#just gotta wallow in it and pull back

[cinnabuntastic]

Ever feel like you could just. Straight up stop saying anything in a community you're in and nobody would even blink. Because boy am I feeling it hard tonight.

[lalalunel]

Balcony Debauchery

idk, needy Leon is a plague

wc: 1277

cw: begging, mild dirty talk, p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap that thing yall!), creampie, sneaky sex but not well executed, first time writing correct straight smut in ever pls don't bully me

enjoy?

“C’mon...” Leon complained, egging you on like he had been the entire night. He had a mission to accomplish: get you to be a bit dirtier than you would ever be. “It won’t kill you baby.” 

Together at a friend’s place for dinner, Leon seemed to be in a mood entirely inappropriate for what the setting was. From his hand on your thigh under the table at dinner, to his hand drifting way too far down while standing and mingling. It was obvious what he was after, and you made it even more obvious that you weren’t going to entertain it. 

It had gotten to a point where you had to drag him outside, afraid that he would all but start fucking you right in front of all of your friends without a lick of shame. You brought him out to the balcony of your friend’s place, the area fairly secluded. That was your first mistake. 

“It won’t kill me, you’re right, but it also won’t kill you to wait until we get home,” You returned, which was simply just common sense. If Leon waited until you got back to your place, you’d let him do whatever he wanted. Even butt stuff. 

“Except it will kill me, baby,” He groans, getting close and hugging you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder. He wraps his arms tight around your waist, pressing himself completely flush against you. “I’ve never wanted you so badly. I can’t wait however long you plan to stay here.” 

He groans lowly against your ear, absolutely adoring the feel of your body against his. The plush of your ass up against his aching cock almost has his head spinning. He’s been hard for far longer than any man should be at this point. “You look so damn pretty tonight too. What’s wrong with wanting to appreciate my baby?” 

You’re about to reply when you feel one hand drifting down from your waist, trailing down your front until his hand is palming at your thigh, far too close to your pussy. That was his real goal. “C’mon…” 

You huff, wanting to say no. It was so damn risky. It’s not like the balcony was completely private. If anyone were to open the door, they’d see you in an instant. But damn did his hand feel good against your thigh, and you’d be lying if you said all his efforts from the night to try and get you in a similar mood did nothing to you. 

“Fine,” You conceded, rolling your eyes. You could sense him perking up behind you, happy to have won you over. You don’t have time to further wallow in your weakness when he’s abruptly slipping his hand under your dress, tugging the panties you were wearing to the side with one hand. You feel his lips against your neck as his other hand works deftly to undo his slacks. He wasted no time.

“Gotta make this quick...” he mumbles under his breath, huffing lightly as he frees his cock, the cool night air ghosting his leaking tip. He presses you up against the balcony railing, bending you over it ever so slightly so he can notch his head against your hole, pushing into you with a low groan. “Fuuuck, I love this pussy.” His words are almost a whine, needy in every sense of the word. 

His words pool heat deep in your stomach, making you clench around him involuntarily with a bitten down moan from you, only pulling more groans from his lips. “Don’t tighten up on me like that, baby. I’ll come in seconds.” His words are followed by an experimental thrust of his hips, one that he seems to find much joy in because he then sets a steady pace. 

He rocks forward smoothly in a short thrust, pushing your hips up against the railing as his pelvis presses against your ass, his cock nudging nice and deep inside of you before he’s pulling back and repeating the motion all over again. 

“Told me you didn’t want it,” he grunts, one hand gripping your waist while the other palms at your ass under your dress. “Told me you wanted to wait until we got home but look how fucking wet you were for me this whole time.” Corroborating his claim, a wet squelching sound followed every time he pulled back and pushed in, your arousal effortlessly coating his cock and making his thrusts even smoother. 

The more he thrusts into you, the less you seem to worry about whether or not someone’s going to catch you, instead you seem a lot more concerned about Leon’s cock and the way it's just barely nudging that sweet spot in your pussy, and how you need it to get there. You’re too deep into it and too impatient to use words, instead pushing your hips back against his when he thrusts in, your eyes rolling back when he hits exactly where you wanted him to. You clench around him again, tighter this time and his hips stutter. 

“Fuck, baby, what did I say? You keep clenching like that, and I won't last,” He groans softly, his grip on your waist tightening as he speeds up his thrusts, seemingly remembering that you were on a time crunch here. There’s no way your friends haven’t noticed you two missing. 

He works with a scary amount of precision, drilling into you with short, deep thrusts that have you clenching rapidly around his cock, sucking him back in every time he pulls back. “Leon-” You don’t have to say anything else for him to know what you mean, for him to know what’s coming. His hand on your ass comes forward, his middle and ring finger finding your clit and rubbing in tight circles. 

“C’mon baby, gonna come on my cock for me, right? Gonna give me what I want?” He taunts, coaxing you into coming. He wants it, he wants to feel the way you tighten around him, the way your body stiffens before melting into the bliss of an orgasm. The mere thought of it almost has him coming before you do, but he’s too much of a gentleman to do that. “Come, baby. Need it. Need to feel you come.” 

His words spark your orgasm to life, your body stiffening as your eyes roll back, a high-pitched sound leaving your mouth despite your best efforts to stamp down all your noises. You clench unbelievably tight around him, and he can’t take it anymore, his hips stuttering as he pushes deep into you, his cock twitching and jumping as he spills ropes of hot cum straight into you, burying his face into your hair as he does. “F-fuck, you’re so good for me. Fucking love you. L-love you coming for me.” 

With a few slow rolls of his hips to completely ride out his orgasm and yours he pulls out of you, wincing sharply when he catches a glimpse of his cum dripping down your thigh. He can feel his cock kick again at the sight and he can already feel the scolding he’s going to get later about how his cum leaked all over your panties. “Maybe... We should just go home…” 

You throw him a slightly fucked out glare over your shoulder.

What only made it worse was the look your friends gave you when you and Leon rejoined the group and announced you were leaving early. It wasn't hard to tell from the flushed look on both of your faces what had happened on the balcony. 

You made damn sure that Leon paid for that when you got home.

~~~

can't tell if this feels rushed or not, the horny started taking over

[g0dlyunsub]

prove it.

you confront spencer about a broken promise on his day off from work, and he’s determined to make it up to you.

pairing :: spencer x gn!reader 

warnings :: established relationship, some intimacy (a shower scene), use of pet names (once), fluff and some angst

word count :: 1.6k

author’s note :: originally an anonymous request, it took me forever to write the ending but it’s finished!! anyways, soft spencer >>>

accompanying song ::  i don't want to talk by wallows

“sorry baby, give me five minutes to look at this. they just found another cipher.”

“any chance you could force the gears in your head to move faster?”

you clap your hand over your mouth right after you say those words, but you’ve already set the wheels in motion.

spencer chuckles as if amused by your comment, still not looking up from the printed sheet, and begins to twirl the pen around his fingers. he looks so attractive whenever he performs the maneuver, you unconsciously bite down on your bottom lip.

“mm… combined cipher with the first being a simple vigenere…” he trails off, scratching the paper with multiple pen strokes.

you pout and make your way over to his desk. your boyfriend had told you that today was going to be your day, that he’d be ready to do whatever you wanted. anything, he said. 

but if there’s anything you should conclude, it’s that the man will never fail to occupy his brain with something to solve, like it’s a necessity for survival. despite his team insisting that he take the day off, you know that even they won’t interfere when it comes to the laborious task of decrypting ciphers. 

still, you think it won’t hurt to try.

you lift his left arm over your head so you can move in and slowly slide onto his lap. as you settle down, you wrap your arms around his neck and lower your head on his shoulder. you feel spencer lean into the back of his chair ever so slightly, but he doesn’t return the embrace. instead, he continues to write on his paper wordlessly.

not even a minute passes when a vibration spreads across spencer’s lap. with a light grunt, his hand grips the flesh of your thigh and moves it lower on his lap, and he reaches into his pocket. you let out a disgruntled sigh as he accepts the phone call.

“hey garcia, what is it?”

as spencer listens to the tech analyst on the other side of the line, you start to run your hands along the fabric of his cardigan. he told you that he was keeping the professional attire on “just in case they wanted to video call”, but everything you wanted to do with him was anything but professional. 

you move your hands to his hair that’s been recently trimmed, following the trail until it thins out at the nape of his neck. 

“that’s fine, i’ll check it when you send it over. i think i solved the cipher by the way, it’s a combined-“ 

his breath hitches when you start to kiss the side of his neck that’s angled perfectly for your lips, and he taps at your thigh warningly. 

“-cipher that uses a vigenere for the first part and a phillips system for the second. using a hill climbing search for the rest of the ciphers might help,” he tries again, releasing a shaky exhale.

you ignore his signal and continue to explore lower, littering kisses all over his collarbone.

“i uh, i gotta go. let me know if you find anything else.”

you smile as spencer hastily cuts the call and returns the phone into his pocket. 

“now’s not a good time.”

you pull away from his skin at the sudden comment, raising your brows in surprise. “but you said five minutes-”

“i can’t focus when you’re here,” he interrupts, gaze lingering on your smooth lips.

“i’m just too distracting?”

“yeah, no- yes. at least when i’m at work i’m not in the same room as you, but at home, when you’re doing this, it’s just… i can’t think about anything else.”

“you should do something about it then.”

spencer narrows his eyes, looking at you questioningly. it’s at this moment when all signs of your boldness dissipate into the air, and you swallow hard.

“maybe… maybe it isn’t necessarily a bad thing to be distracted. i mean what if it’s just mentally torturing you because you’re not doing anything about it?” 

for a moment, spencer seems deep in thought, like he’s contemplating every implication, every untold possibility embedded in your proposal. but he doesn’t deliberate for long, because he lifts you by the back of your knees and sets you on your feet again, further away from his desk. he then gestures at the door.

you stand crestfallen, like you’ve just been deeply humbled, unable to move or react. but when he simply reverts his attention back to his sheet of code, you know that he’s making it clear he doesn’t want to entertain your thoughts any longer.

“fine,” you mutter at last, angrily walking out the door without exchanging another look.

you’re lying in spencer’s bed when you hear the knock at the bedroom door, and before you can say anything, your boyfriend walks in.

“i just finished. are you-”

you lie still, tears welling in your eyes as you refuse to acknowledge his presence. 

maybe if you play pretend and make him think you’re asleep, he’ll leave you alone. you suppose then he’ll occupy himself with even more work.

you hear his footsteps thud louder as he approaches you. when he stops, you can practically feel him, standing just a few inches from your face. 

you then feel him stoop slightly and lower his fingers to comb through your hair. he sweeps your strands slowly, like applying any more force would harm you.

“i know you’re awake.” 

you don’t respond.

“hm. maybe not.”

you hear the sound of receding footsteps and when you think you’re safe, you open your eyes.

only to lock eyes with spencer. his mouth widens into a cheeky grin, and his soft hair falls over his eyes as he takes in your flushed expression.

“got you.”

“that is so unfair!” you pout, pushing your palms against the bed to sit up. you hug your knees to your chest and look down, trying to save yourself the embarrassment of showing him your reddening cheeks.

his chuckles fill the silence for a second before he clears his throat, and he slowly sinks into the bed beside you. the air suddenly feels ten times heavier, weighed down with the unresolved incident from earlier.

“i owe you an apology,” spencer starts as he inhales, “i couldn’t keep a simple promise and i just… i told you to leave.”

“you can save it, it doesn’t matter anymore,” you return, tears muddling your voice.

“yes, yes it does. i know that saying sorry doesn’t change what i did, and you have every right to be mad at me. i deserve it.”

you look up at him, and his broken expression immediately shatters your heart into fragments. you can’t really stay mad at him, at the man who saves lives without asking for anything in return. he’s never held a single malicious thought towards anyone; he’s pure kindness personified.

you just wish he could feel at peace with you and not constantly worry about work.

you lower your head against his chest and listen to the soft palpitations of his heart, while he wraps an arm around you. 

“you can choose not to accept my apology,” spencer utters with a plaintive voice, “but i’ll do everything to prove how sorry i am.”

“everything?” you ask, lifting your head and slowly standing back on your feet. you wrap your hand around his tie, looping one finger at a time, and he watches you with curious eyes.

you lightly tug at the fabric, urging him to stand, and walk backwards until your feet knock into the bathroom door. you fiddle with the wooden frame and when you find the knob, you step inside without breaking eye contact.

spencer raises his brows, a soft chuckle exiting his upturned lips as he closes the door behind him without looking back. “if you’ll let me, i can try.”

you clench your jaw, taking great interest in the way he eyes your lips. “show me,” you utter, your voice an alluring mix of sweet and spicy.

with one hand, he removes his tie, while with the other, he traces your lips and slides his thumb down to your chin.

“mm,” you hum and pull away from him teasingly. “you need to work harder than that.”

just then, his phone rings again, high-pitched beeps sounding from his pants pocket.

your expression falls when he holds the phone against his ear. but this time, he looks at you with a straight face when he speaks into the mic: “sorry jj, now’s not a good time.” 

your eyes immediately widen at his response, the same words that made you upset just a few hours earlier now filling you with irrepressible desire. 

spencer seems to reciprocate the urge, because he ends the call, tosses his phone to the side, and wraps his hands around your waist. without another moment of hesitation, your lips ram onto his with such force that everything meshes into a blur. his face, his hair, his clothes — his everything intertwines with yours. 

“i’m sorry,” he whispers as his palms slide under your shirt and massage your sides in circles.

it doesn’t take long for your back to bump against the slippery walls of the shower, for the water to tangle your hair around spencer’s fingers as he grips the back of your head. 

if you thought he was just going to plant a few kisses here and there, you were deeply mistaken. he works his tongue like a starved man, hungrily pushing past your teeth to leave his taste inside.

“i’m sorry,” he murmurs as you gasp for air and claw at his back from the heavenly sensation.

“i’m sorry,” he pants as his tongue falls onto the expanse of your neck, popping the soapy bubbles lathering your skin one by one. he peppers you with kisses wetter than the drops of water spraying you from the showerhead.

there’s nothing but the sounds of gushing water to drown out his whispers and your soft whimpers of his name.

[steddieas-shegoes]

never gonna give you up

for @steddiemicrofic "fake" prompt that needed to include the words: and, around, desert, down, give, gonna, let, never, run, up, you

1987 words | rated e | no cw | tags: modern au, flirting, bisexual steve harrington, handjobs, some platonic stobin, ridiculous and unserious

😎😎😎😎😎😎😎😎😎😎😎😎😎

"This might be the first time someone's deserted me in the middle of a date," Steve said into the phone.

"You aren't counting that one time Sarah left during the movie?" Robin asked.

"She had a family emergency!" Steve exclaimed.

"Right, and I'm definitely going on a date with a dude later."

"You're saying she didn't have a family emergency?"

Steve remembered that date, remembered how she'd even had tears in her eyes when she said her mom called and she had to run home.

"You're gonna unpack that all night, aren't you?" Robin sighed on the other end. "Steve, just go home. Take a week off from trying to get into some poor woman's pants. Leave some of them for me to get into. I beg you."

"What makes you think they'd come running to you?" Steve looked over at a guy standing at the counter of the diner, clearly trying to pick up his order. From the back, he seemed tall, but that could be the black skinny jeans and boots combo.

"Let me talk to them for one minute and I'll have them convinced."

The guy turned as the woman behind the counter walked to the kitchen, his eyes settling on Steve talking on his cell phone at the table in the corner. It's not like there were many people here on a Monday night, nothing else to look at but Steve awkwardly sitting by himself with two glasses on the table.

The guy started to walk over, and Steve recognized him immediately.

"Gotta go, Robs."

"What? How are you done wallowing already?"

He hung up before she could continue, putting his phone face down on the table.

"Well, well, well. Never thought I'd see the day where Steve Harrington shows back up in Hawkins."

Eddie Munson didn't know shit about Steve, never really had. He thought he did, just like everyone else in high school, but the gossip that followed him around never had much truth to it. He really only had two girlfriends for most of high school, and only one of them was serious enough for him to sleep with.

The sleeping around came after his move to Chicago, when he was constantly surrounded by women who would give him all the attention he wanted.

"Never really thought I'd be back," he said with a genuine smile. Kill them with kindness or whatever his grandmother used to say.

It seemed to throw Eddie off at least, his mouth opening and closing around whatever rebuttal he planned.

"So why are you here? Visiting the parents?" Eddie crossed his arms, leaned his hip against the edge of the table.

"Nah, came to visit Dustin Henderson. Staying for a few more days and thought it would be nice to take someone out. I guess she didn't agree," Steve shrugged.

Eddie glanced down at the empty spot across from him, the glass on the table with half of the drink missing. He looked back at Steve's face.

He sat down across from him and smirked.

"So. Come here often, sunshine?"

Steve snorted, shaking his head as he looked up at Eddie.

"Not as often as I would if I was coming to see you," Steve replied, taking a sip of his drink.

Eddie clearly wasn't expecting him to flirt back. He recovered quickly, though.

"I suppose we could fix that, then, huh?"

Steve looked him up and down, taking in the messy bun his curly hair was pulled into, the pen mark on his cheek, tattoos up and down his arm.

"I suppose we could."

Waking up in Eddie Munson's bed was definitely not what he expected when he arrived in Hawkins two days ago, but stranger things had happened.

He opened his eyes to sunlight streaming in through the curtains and Eddie's warm body pressed against his back.

Neither of them had gotten dressed after their shower last night, too tired to do anything more than rinse off the sweat and cum from hours of making each other come undone.

Steve let himself have this. Eddie would kick him out when he woke up, kindly of course, but he'd make it clear to Steve that this was a one night thing. No matter how good it was, Steve wasn't an idiot. He knew Eddie would never actually be interested in a guy like him.

"Mmm. Stop thinkin' s' loud," Eddie's lips brushed against the back of Steve's neck in a half-kiss, sending a shiver down his spine. "'s too early."

Steve smiled to himself, let Eddie's arms tighten around him and hold him close for a bit longer.

"I should probably head back to the Henderson's. Claudia will be worried if I'm not there for lunch," Steve said quietly.

"Just text Dustin, tell him your date went well."

Steve shouldn't get his hopes up. It's not like he was gonna do long distance, and even if he would be willing, there was no way Eddie would.

"I can't lie to him," Steve felt his heart flip flop in his chest at the admission.

Eddie's head lifted and his breath hit the side of Steve's face instead of his shoulder. "Did it not go well? I thought it- well, I thought it went great, actually."

Steve turned in Eddie's arms, facing him, placing his hands on his chest. "It did go well! It did."

"Okay, then…"

"It's just this wasn't exactly a date, was it? You just felt bad for me, probably wanted to see if the rumors were true."

"What rumors?"

"You know. The ones about me sleeping around, being good with my mouth." Steve's eyes searched Eddie's, looking for any hint of recognition. When none came, he continued. "How I let anyone fuck me on the first date?"

Eddie's brows furrowed. "Is that what people say about you?"

"You don't have to act dumb, Eddie. Some of it's true."

Eddie's hands were rubbing up and down his back, making goosebumps appear on his skin. "You are good with your mouth. That one’s true. The rest though? I never believed any of that shit.”

“Really? Why not?”

Eddie’s hand traced along Steve’s only tattoo, a robin placed just under his collarbone. “Because I never gave much thought to rumors. Lord knows most of the ones about me weren’t true.”

Steve thought about all the rumors he’d heard about Eddie in high school.

Back then, he may have believed some of them, but he had firsthand experience with things getting out of hand.

“You can think what you want, but I brought you back here because I genuinely enjoyed talking to you at the diner. I wouldn’t have slept with you if I wanted to get rid of you. Trust me. I’m not really a one and done guy,” Eddie’s hand cupped his cheek, thumb rubbing along his cheekbone. “If you’re in a rush to go, I can’t stop you. But I think staying in bed with you all morning sounds pretty fuckin’ good.”

Steve’s breath hitched, his heart kicked up in his chest. “You know, I’ve actually never bottomed before last night.”

Eddie’s eyes widened. “Seriously? Never?”

Steve shook his head. “Never found anyone I could trust to be gentle.”

“Was I gentle enough? Shit, you should’ve told me. I used spit as lube, Steve! That couldn’t have been comfortable.” Eddie pulled away a few inches, mumbling to himself in a panic.

“Eddie.” Steve tried to get his attention back on him. “Eds.”

Steve shifted forward, his front pressing against Eddie’s, his half-hard cock finding friction against Eddie’s thigh.

They both groaned as Steve rocked against him again.

“Everything was perfect, Eds. Only thing that would make it better is if I get to watch you come again right now," Steve said against his lips, pushing his hips forward so their cocks brushed against each other.

"Fuck, keep doing that and you'll get your wish, sweetheart."

He was sensitive, worked up from the hot breath against his mouth, the tongue brushing against his bottom lip. Steve couldn't remember the last time he'd been this wrapped up in someone, this attentive to the sounds they made, this focused on making sure they both felt good.

The friction was enough on its own to get Steve to the edge, and if Eddie's moans were anything to go off of, he was right there with him.

Steve never felt safe enough to be loud, not until he had Eddie begging him to make noise.

"C'mon, Stevie. Wanna hear how good you feel. Sounds so good when you can't hold it back," Eddie's hand gripped his hip, tugging him closer. They were both leaking precum, dripping down each other's lengths and losing track of where one of them ended and the other began.

Steve couldn't hold it back, didn't want to anyway. Letting Eddie hear how good he felt was a need.

"You gonna come with me, sweetheart?" Eddie gasped out as he wrapped his hand around both of them, slowing his hips to focus on moving his hand, finding the perfect angle and pace to get them both over the edge.

Steve bit his lip and nodded, barely holding back a whimper as Eddie's grip tightened around them.

"Come for me, Stevie."

Eddie's voice had a direct link to Steve's cock, maybe through the hand wrapped around him. Steve came with a shout, curling forward so his forehead fell against Eddie's shoulder.

He was overstimulated, fighting the urge to buck into his hand and pull away at the same time.

Steve pulled his head back to watch as Eddie groaned, cum hitting both of their stomachs as he worked himself through his orgasm.

They both lay there in silence, Eddie's grip loose around them as they both softened. They'd need to clean up before the cum dried in Steve's chest hairs and made them sticky, but moving seemed like an impossible task.

"You live in Chicago now?" Eddie asked suddenly, making Steve jump. He rubbed his cleaner hand on his back in silent apology.

"Yeah," Steve breathed out. "With Robin Buckley. From band?"

"I know Robin. She used to come to my shows before she moved."

"Small world."

Eddie snorted. "Just Hawkins." Eddie sat up, pulling Steve with him. "You know, the guys in my band have been considering moving to Chicago. Think it's a good place for a metal band?"

Steve searched his face for any clues as to what he was really asking. Certainly he didn't expect Steve to know if a metal band would feel at home somewhere.

"I…guess?" Steve answered.

"I'll just text Robin," Eddie wiped his hand on the sheets and reached over to the bedside table to grab his phone.

"Wait. You keep in touch with Robin?" Steve felt like he was being pranked.

"Not as much as I should, but yeah. We caught up last time she visited her parents." Eddie typed on his phone for a moment, then looked up at Steve with a smirk. "Problem with that?"

"No, I'm just kinda shocked she's never really mentioned it." Steve stood up with shaking legs. "I should probably grab a shower and go."

"You normally a runner?" Eddie asked, amused.

"No? Why do you ask?"

"It's just the second time you've been rushing to leave. Thought I told you I wanted you here."

Steve knew what he wanted, and he knew it was too much, too fast, too ridiculous for Eddie to even consider it.

But maybe, if he played his cards right, maybe he could have Eddie for more than today.

"Shower with me?" Steve settled on, pouting his bottom lip out.

"And then?" Eddie pushed.

Steve didn't know what to do, but he knew what he wanted.

"And then we'll go back to the diner and actually eat something together." Eddie nodded, encouraging him to continue. "And then you give me your number."

"For?"

"Planning our next date."

[featherandferns]

daylight - one

jj maybank x fem!reader | part 1 of the daylight series | read prologue here

content warnings: none

word count: 3.5k.

blurb: when your car breaks down in the middle of nowhere, a stranger stops to help. It isn't until later that you realise why he seems so familiar.

It’s dusk, around eight at night, when you’re driving home. The dying sunlight is compensated by sparse street lamps. There weren’t many people in this area: houses or shops or anything of the sort. You glance down at your satnav. Still new to the area, all the streets look the same. All the houses do too, for that matter - at least those on the Cut. You’d ventured into Figure Eight last week on foot, camera in hand, and promptly turned back around. The Kooks were far from inviting; eyed you up like bait, practically snarling under breath at the sight of you. The houses were huge, stupid things compared to the two bedroom shack you and your parents had moved into. No, the Cut felt more welcoming. The people were genuine and real. Friendly and helpful, even if they had an edge.

“So…” Your friend Mimsy’s voice through the hands-free speakerphone brings you out of your daydreams. “How is it? Found any hot surfer bros yet?”

You laugh. “Sorry to break your heart but no, not yet.”

“Girl! What the hell have you been doing?” Mimsy scolds. 

“I’ve been busy!”

“With what? Wallowing in self pity? Pining after my company?”

“Oh my God, how did you know?” you sarcastically return. “My life is just empty without you around, Mimsy.”

“Damn straight it is,” she mumbles. 

Rolling your eyes, you continue down the street. “I’m looking for a side hustle to get some extra cash.”

“God, you’re so boring sometimes, you know that?”

You snigger. “How else do you want me to afford flights to Vancouver? It’s my only way to get back there and see you again. Unless you want me to hitchhike.”

“Nuh-uh! I just listened to the craziest story about hitchhiking! It's this guy called the ‘Glove Guy’ who roams Halifax and–”

“Mimsy,” you interrupt, “what’s our agreement?”

She’s quiet a moment, sighs and says, “one true crime story a day.”

“Mhm. And didn’t we already talk about Ted Bundy?”

“...yes.”

“I rest my case,” you say. 

“Look, I’m just saying that if you have to get a job, maybe try and be the official photographer for the lifeguards or something.”

“Mimsy…”

“Then you can ogle at hot guys all day, catch a tan and get paid for it!”

Through Mimsy’s chatter and your stifled laughter, the engine makes a troubling rumble. With that, the whole car shudders. The steering wheel shivers in your grip and your stomach drops, panic rising. Smoke pummels out the hood. Clouds your vision. 

“Oh fuck!”

“What? What is it?”

“I gotta call you back!” you blurt, hanging up in a hurry.

You take a fleeting glance in the mirrors and swerve off the road, shutting off the engine. The smoke makes you cough, catching in your lungs. 

“Oh shit! Oh shit!” you continue to cuss, grabbing your phone, scrambling to get your keys out the ignition. Swinging the door open, you throw yourself out of the car and run away, scared it might catch on fire or even explode. 

As you gape at it, chest heaving, you’re relieved to see the smoke is dying down with the engine shut off. Sighing, you plant your hands on your hips and look up and down. Nobody. Nothing. Not a gas station or a shop you can dash in for help. Hell, any shops would probably be closed either way. You reply to Mimsy’s frantic texts with a brief explanation and then contemplate calling your parents. Before you can, the sound of another car approaching catches your attention. It’s a campervan. Brown paint which is mostly chipped and peeling; stickers decorate the sides and windows. It’s well-loved and well-worn. There’s a guy driving, about your age from the looks, and he’s slowing down at the sight of you and your abandoned car.

He pulls up. Your skin prickles nervously. It’s lonely around here. The engine shuts off and you watch as he jumps out the car and saunters over, hands in his short pockets. 

“You a’right?”

“Yeah,” you lie.

He quirks a brow and glances at your still steaming vehicle. “You sure ‘bout that?”

“I, uh,” you follow his line of sight and flail your arm uselessly at it. “Well, no. I kinda broke down.”

“Ah.” He wanders over to your car and whistles. “She’s smokin’, huh?”

“Yeah,” you nervously laugh, following. You keep a comfortable distance between the two of you. 

He heads to the car hood. Glancing at you, he asks, “you mind?” whilst gesturing down to it. You shrug yes. He pops the hood and laughs through his coughs, fanning his face free of the smoke. 

“Goddamn. The hell happened?”

“I don’t know. It just blew up on me out of nowhere,” you reply, coming over. 

He pulls a rag out of one of his pockets and wafts it over the engine. As he checks out the engine, you do the same to him.

Donned in a grey t-shirt, graphic decal on the back mostly faded, and a pair of black cargo shorts and boots, he looks the image of Kildare County. His dark blonde hair is kept under a red cap. It’s fraying on the lip. A shark tooth necklace hangs around his neck, rings decorate a few of his fingers, and several string and beaded bracelets adorn his left hand. He’s good looking, even in the low visibility of the night. There’s also something strangely familiar about him. Almost like you’ve seen him before. 

He meddles with something, nodding. You snap your eyes back up to his face from his well-kept figure just in time as he looks at you. “It’s the radiator. Seems to have overheated or detached or some shit. I mean, whatever happened has completely busted the thing.”

You raise your brows. “That supposed to mean something to me?”

Laughing, he shrugs and gestures at the mechanics. “In simple terms? The thing’s a goner. You’re gonna need a new part on it.”

“So I can’t drive it?”

“Nope. Not ‘til you get it fixed,” he replies. 

You pinch the bridge of your nose and exhale deeply. “Fucking great.”

“I mean, there’s a garage not far from here. They’ll probably fix her up for you no problem. Have her good to go for Tuesday.”

“Tuesday!? I thought you said it just needs a new part?”

He takes off his cap, revealing a head of messy hair. Raking a hand through it, he says, “well, yeah, but you’re gonna need the part first. They might have to order it in and stuff.”

“Well, great,” you grumble. You pace away from the car and take your frustrations out by kicking the tyre. “That’s just great.”

“Look, if you want I can give you a tow.” Looking at him, he shrugs. “The garage ain’t far so it’ll be fine to take it using the Twinkie.”

“The who?”

He laughs at himself, shaking his head. “Sorry, uh, that’s what we call the campervan.”

“Oh. Right.”

You look around and take in the situation. It’s dark, isolated, and your phone is on 5% (thanks for that, Mimsy). Calling insurance and a tow company is only going to bump up your bill. Besides, this guy seems genuine. Non-threatening. You can practically hear Mimsy screaming at you from across the continent: so was Ted Bundy! Eyeing him up, you assure yourself you could probably take him if you really had to, and trust your female intuition and gut. 

“Alright. Only if it’s close.”

“It is, I swear. I know the owner, Barry," he says. He pulls out his phone and types something on the screen. Then, he approaches with maps open, showing the garage. It’s true: it is nearby. Ten minutes max. “I mean, if you prefer I can just call you a tow or a cab or something.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” you say. You close the hood shut and shake your head, laughing. “Can’t believe my Goddamn luck.”

The guy laughs too. In your peripheral, you see him extend a hand to you. “I’m JJ.”

Shaking his hand, you introduce yourself. Then the two of you spend the next five or so minutes sorting out attaching your car to his van. He does most of the heavy lifting, almost jumping at the chance to flex his strength (not that you were complaining) and you do as he asks. Fasten this here; steer this whilst I push. Eventually, you’re good to go. He offers you the front or the back and you opt for the front. Mimsy is probably having an aneurysm about now. 

The campervan smells of weed, damp and a dying air freshener. The front seats are red leather. It’s soft and supple and comfortable, and you hitch a leg up and rest one arm on the window ledge, watching the world pass by as JJ drives. The radio is humming out a Mac Miller song and it fills the semi-awkward silence. 

“So, what’s with the accent?” JJ asks. 

“What’d you mean?”

“I mean, you ain’t from round here, right?” JJ asks, glancing between yourself and the road. 

Smiling, you reply, “Yeah, I’m not.”

“Where you from then? Midwest? East Coast?”

“Vancouver.”

“Vancouver? As in Canada Vancouver?” JJ checks, eyes growing wide. 

You laugh quietly and nod. “Yep. As in Canada Vancouver.”

“God damn. You’re pretty far from home,” he laughs. 

“Well, not anymore,” you reply, voice turning sombre. “We moved here.”

“In May? Pretty shitty time to move.”

“Tell me about it,” you mumble, looking back out the window. It hadn’t been your idea. In fact, you’d protested loudly against it. 

“So, how you finding Kildare so far? Wait, scratch that - how you finding North Carolina?”

“Um…alright. You guys have pretty good waves here and the weed’s pretty good so at least there’s that.”

“Now you’re speaking my language,” JJ grins.

You laugh at that, feeling yourself relax more and more as the conversation continues. “Yeah, I think it’s the only thing getting me through.”

Love Lost fills the quiet that comes. You glance at JJ. He drives with one hand on the wheel, holding it by the top in his fist. The streetlamps sneak through the windows and highlight his features in flashes. And it’s in one of those flashes, when his handsome profile is illuminated, that you suddenly realise why you recognise him. 

The kegger. 

You quickly look away. Your eyes grow wide. Did he recognise you? Did he even remember that? 

“I heard Vancouver’s pretty as fuck though,” JJ says, unaware of your quiet panic. “Pretty gorgeous scenery and shit, right?”

“Mhm,” you hum, heart ticking nervously. “You ever been?”

“Nah. Never left the States before.”

“Not even Canada?”

“Too far,” he shrugs. “Couldn’t dish out that kinda cash.”

“I hear you,” you say. “My friend Mimsy really wants me to go back this summer but I don’t know if I’m gonna be able to make enough in time to afford flights and stuff.”

“That blows,” JJ mumbles. 

The conversation comes to a natural close when the garage comes into sight. Its neon sign shines bright in the dark like the beacon of a lighthouse. JJ pulls in and shuts off the engine. You linger in the car a moment to catch your breath whilst he looks at unhooking the tow gear. 

It doesn’t seem he remembered you or that mortifying moment at the kegger. At least, if he did, he’s acting like he didn’t. So…That’s good, right? You can just move past the whole thing. Besides, it’s not like you were doing anything that weird. You took plenty of pictures that night (though everyone else was in pairs or groups) and it was a public get-together. It wasn’t like you were halfway up a tree and peeping through his window. 

You jump at the sound of rapping on the passenger window. JJ’s stood there, frowning in confusion. 

“You comin’?”

“Oh, yeah. Yeah,” you mumble, unbuckling your seatbelt and climbing out the van. You follow him into the shop. 

A burly man sits behind the counter. He’s watching a sports game on a crackling television, drinking a beer shamelessly on the job. At the sound of the bell chiming above the door, he glances over. He seems to recognise JJ. 

“Hey, Barry,” JJ grins. 

“Hey there, kid,” Barry's gruff voice returns. 

They share a bro-style hug and you awkwardly side by him near the counter. JJ plants a friendly hand on your shoulder.

“My friend here had her radiator blow-up on her just now. She needs it fixing up stat. Any chance you could get a push on it?”

“Just the radiator?” Barry checks, glancing between yourself and JJ. 

JJ nods. “Yes, sir. I checked it out and it’s just overheated or some crap. A new one and I swear it’ll be good as new.”

“Hm…” Barry contemplates. He glances at the clock and the sports game and cringes. “I don’t know, kid. It’s late and I’ve had a long day. It’s a lot of extra work that I could just get done tomorrow.”

“Oh, come on, Barry,” JJ argues cordially. “How many times have me and my old man helped you out?”

“Your old man stole fifty bucks from me,” Barry grunts. 

Your eyes dart down to the floor, lips pursing. Yikes. 

JJ falters for only a moment. “Alright, well, forget that then. How many times have I helped out? I mean, I’ll pick up a shift or two if you want? Get you some new parts or something?”

Barry sighs. He looks to you again and you smile politely, hoping your nerves don’t show. He’s a scary looking guy. He could probably crush you with one fist. Both his arms are covered in sleeves of tattoos. He’s missing several teeth and there’s a teardrop tattooed below his left eye. 

“She’s new to the County,” JJ feels the need to add. “Gotta show some good hospitality, right?”

With that, Barry relents. He gets to his feet and trudges to the window to eye up your car. 

“What kinda car is it?”

You tell him, reeling off as much information as you can recall. He nods, back to you, and sighs again. 

“Well, I think I do got a part back here for that, actually. I ain’t making any promises though,” Barry says. He heads into the back with that, leaving you and JJ in the store. The moment the older man is out of sight, JJ grins at you. 

“Am I good or what?”

“Why are you helping me so much?” you find yourself asking. 

JJ seems surprised by the question but not offended. “Dunno, really. You seem nice. And I always kinda wanted to be a knight in shining armour.”

“So that makes me, what? The damsel in distress?” you joke. 

He paces the store leisurely, eyeing up car parts and accessories. “Suppose so. You’re from a far away land so you’re already half way there.”

You laugh. Glancing around the store, you find yourself drawn to the pinboard behind the counter. It’s cluttered with posters, deals, business cards, receipts, reminders and a calendar. Amidst it is pictures and thank you notes from children. One picture catches your eye. It’s of Barry, a few years younger, with a little girl. 

“She’s cute,” you smile. 

JJ joins you and follows your gaze. He smiles too, though it seems sad. “Yeah, that was his kid. She died about a year back now.”

“Wait, really?” you frown. 

Sighing, JJ nods and looks to you. “Freak car accident. Poor kid drowned. Her mom too. Lost his wife and kid in the same day.”

“Shit,” you whisper, looking back at the photo. Your heart tugs at the thought and you feel guilty for judging him by his cover. You had your problems with your parents but you couldn’t imagine them gone from your life. 

Barry returns to the store, car part in hand. JJ clasps his hands and tosses them above his head. 

“Barry, you fucking g.”

“Alright. Alright, don’t kiss my ass too much, Maybank,” Barry quips. He heads for the door. “There’s soda in the fridge. You kids help yourself.”

With that, he grabs his toolkit and heads out to your car. JJ doesn’t need to be told twice. Whilst you feel rude for intruding on this man’s evening, JJ is happy to revel in the hospitality. He tosses a can at you before grabbing one for himself. You follow him out the back. The light from the store overflows onto the sheltered concrete. There’s two plastic garden chairs back here with a busy ashtray on the floor. JJ relaxes in one of the seats and you copy. 

“You known Barry long?”

“Him and my dad go way back,” JJ replies, sipping his soda. “I used to come here all the time as a kid.”

“Sounds like they’re not on great terms right now, huh?” you say. 

JJ sips his drink and shrugs, looking out to the abyss of greenery surrounding the garage. “Pretty standard for my dad. Kinda his M.O.”

You get the feeling that you hit a sensitive spot. Sipping your soda, you switch topics. 

“So what do you guys do for fun around here, then?”

“Surf. Fish. Smoke,” JJ lists. “Sometimes we go to a kegger at the beach and stuff. You been to one yet?”

You wonder if he’s trying to rat you out but when you look at him, you see no sign. “Yeah, I went to one. I didn’t stick around very long though. Didn’t know anyone and felt kinda awkward.”

“That’s fair,” JJ says. He pulls a vape out of his pocket and takes a hit, and it’s like the nicotine gives him an idea. He turns to you, renewed energy. “Oh shit! You should come with my lot!”

“Hm?”

“My friends. You’d get along great with them, swear down,” JJ tells you. “You fish?”

“I can but I don’t exactly relish the opportunity.”

“Alright, well, that’s gonna change,” JJ says, making you laugh. “You surf too, right?”

“Mhm,” you nod. Vancouver had a good surf scene. You and Mimsy used to spend hours on the beach and in the waves, although part of the appeal for your friend was the surfer bros. They were her kryptonite. 

“Well, it’s settled. You’re coming to the next hang we have,” JJ tells you with a grin.

He relaxes back in his chair and takes another hit of his vape. It smells like blue raspberry. As you watch him, you find yourself laughing. 

“Alright, seriously,” you say. “Why the hell are you being so nice to me?”

“I told you: you seem nice.”

“Okay, but seriously,” you repeat. 

JJ studies his vape for a moment and a knowing smile comes to his face. Chuckling, he sighs and relents, looking back to you. “Alright. You’re fuckin' hot. Sue me.”

You bark out a laugh. JJ cracks up too. 

“What!? You asked!”

“No, no, I did,” you laugh, catching your breath. “That’s fair. I had that coming.”

“It’s just like you’re exactly my type. Kinda freaky really,” JJ continues. It seems that now the cat is out of the bag, he might as well let it roam free. “Like you’re smokin' hot and you surf and shit. And you got a dope accent, it's kinda exotic.”

“Since when was Canada exotic?” you laugh, rolling your eyes. 

JJ shrugs with a boyish grin. His eyes stay trained on you. “I dunno. Since I met you, I guess.”

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t affected. JJ’s attraction hadn’t passed you by and, in truth, he was just your type as well. Confidence that borders on cocky: handy and hunky, but not in a steroid-style way…Maybe Mimsy wasn’t the only one who had a thing for surfer boys. To cool yourself from the intensity of his gaze, you take a sip of your soda. 

“I just weren’t gonna say anything cause, you know, I didn’t wanna freak you out,” JJ admits. 

“Freak me out? How so?”

“Random guy, random area. Alone?” he replies. Sheepish, he shrugs. “Might be kinda creepy.”

You catch his drift. Shrugging, you flash him a smile. “Nah, you didn’t freak me out. You’re not too bad to look at yourself.”

“Gee, don’t hold back,” JJ sarcastically returns. You laugh. “Look, you ain’t gotta say anythin' about it. I think you should still come hang with me and my friends, whether you’re madly in love with me or not.”

“Wow, are you confident?” you chuckle incredulously. 

JJ grins. “Charming, ain’t it?”

“One word for it,” you return. You debate his offer and come to a conclusion pretty quick. Lord knows you could do with some friends, and if his gang were anything like himself, you could see yourself getting along just fine. “But yeah, I’d be down to hang with you and your friends.”

“Sweet.” JJ holds his can out for a toast. “Then let me be the first to say, welcome to Kildare.”

You clink your can against his with a small laugh and the two of you drink. Maybe your new life won’t be as boring as you first thought. 

read part two here!

taglist:

princesssuki21 |

[lix1nyu]

when tartaglia confronts you about a drunken conversation

part 2 to this

tartaglia x gn!reader

mentions of alcohol, bad past relationships, angst, fluff, established relationship, swearing, not proofread

a/n: struggling sm on this

@redninjakitty14rp @indarius @numberonefanfury thought maybe ygs would wanna see this, hope it's up to standards ⁉️

the first thing you notice when you wake up is a warmth along your side, an arm draped over you. your forehead is tucked into the crook of his neck.

the second thing is surprisingly, no pounding headache. what the hell happened last night? you don't want to disturb the peace, but you have to.

the hot mess you were lying on stirs immediately when you shift off of him. the bed creaking when you stand up gives you away even more.

"hey," tartaglia's morning voice mumbles, "come back." half asleep, his arm pats the space beside him, looking for you. "love, where are you going?"

"just to get something to drink, baby," you reply with a twinge of guilt.

he mumbles something along the lines of "wake me up... when... done..." and falls asleep again.

tartaglia must be tired, you realize, he stayed up to pick you up from hu tao's at 2. so you ignore what he said and let him sleep.

the coffee you'd brewed did nothing to help you remember what happened last night. it probably ended with your sweet boyfriend carrying you home.

you sip from your mug slowly, lost in thought.

"morning, bird's nest," you greet him affectionately, standing at the kitchen island.

to get things off your mind, you almost entirely subconsciously made him breakfast, his favorite.

tartaglia runs a hand through his messy ginger hair, making his way to you. "morning, beautiful," he beams, an arm already around your waist.

peppering your cheek and neck with kisses, he says into your skin, "i could've sworn i told you to wake me up. smells amazing, by the way."

you give a laugh and say, "sorry, i thought you deserved to sleep in. you did take me home at an ungodly hour, after all." you take his face in your hands and press your lips to his.

tartaglia can taste the coffee on your tongue, the exact recipe he knows you love. you think he tastes like unbrushed teeth.

when you pull away gently, he chases your lips with his, soft smile guiding his cheeks.

there's something in his eyes, some unfamiliar uncertainty.

"what?" you ask, wallowing in the deep blue.

"i think we should talk. nothing bad!" he says hastily at your quick expression change. "just... some things i'm curious about from last night."

racing thoughts ensue. did you say something stupid? is he mad about you staying too late, who was there at the party, the fact that you went at all? is he finally sick of your shit?

you figured he would be at some point.

"i'm sorry," you blurt, "for whatever-"

"stop," he squeezes his eyes shut, "yn, it's okay. i'm just... curious. basically, i went to pick you up and you didn't recognize me because you were drunk. you accidentally called me gorgeous and wouldn't let me take you home.

"and then you felt bad for calling me gorgeous, because you were worried your boyfriend, me, wouldn't- wouldn't 'allow' that."

"oh."

"i just-" he sighs. "you know there's no such thing as being allowed in this relationship, right? we should've set this straight when we started dating."

"yeah, i- i know that. we did set it straight, i understand. and i-" you cup his cheeks again, "and i love you for that, tag. it's not your fault i get scared."

"yn, why do you keep saying you're scared? you're not supposed to be afraid of something in our relationship." his panicky voice makes you start to panic.

"keep-?"

"yes, last night. said you were scared to ask me if you do something that actually bothers me. and i tried telling you, you don't!"

"okay, tag, we both know that's bullshit," you start shaking your head, "there's gotta be something-"

"okay, yeah, there is." your heart stops as he gestures between the two of you, continuing, "this conversation makes me disgusted, at myself and all your shitty exes."

"they weren't bad people, we were just bad together-"

"and we're not like that," tartaglia cuts in, almost desperate. "you're perfect, and i swear on my life, yn, i'm not like that. please don't be scared of me."

he is so adorable when he is so in love, you think.

"'m not scared of you," you whisper, pressing your foreheads together. "sometimes i get all in my head, and worry you'll leave."

"i'm not gonna leave," your lover says firmly, and he pulls you in to prove it.

"i know," you say, rubbing circles on his neck when he slowly pulls away. "i love you."

he proceeds to absolutely chow down breakfast, giving you two thumbs-ups and a glowing smile. you have no idea why he scarfs it down with so much enthusiasm, but maybe you should make that meal more.

[mooki3-bear]

I Need You pt.2 (paige bueckers x black!reader

Part one <3

Summary: You and Paige finally unite

Warning: Just cursing

word count: 1757

Three months. It’s been three months since me and Paige went on our “break”. 

The first month was the hardest. Just a lot of crying, bargaining, rants, and Chipotle. I sat in my puddle of despair, wondering what Paige was doing.

What she was thinking, hoping the thoughts were about me.

My worst thought was thinking that she had moved on to someone new, or someone that has always been there.

The second month was the month that I told myself to stand the fuck up.

This month had its ups and downs. I moved in with my best friend who welcomed me with open arms. She’s been more than supportive since the very beginning. She comforted me, fed me when I didn’t feel like eating, and took the remote from my hands every time I felt like turning on a UConn game (I'm healing slowly but surely).

I even picked up a hobby! I started taking a ballet class to keep my mind off of things! My bleeding feet are a VERY good distraction.

The third month is when I felt like a new and healed me. My skin was clear, my curls were popping, my body was giving. I felt better.

However, no matter what I did or how much better I thought I was…I can’t get her out of my mind.

“Come on! You’ve been stuck in this house all day! It’s getting sad Mookie” my bestie, Quenlin, says while ripping the blanket from my body.

“My dance class got canceled today and new episodes of my show came out. I just thought I could lay here and wallow all day” I moan while pulling my hoodie over my face. I turn my head to see Quenlin shaking her head.

“Girl, you smell like ten cans of ass and your hair looks a mess. You cannot let this girl get to you like this” She turns to open the curtains.

The blinding light burns my eyes as I wince and pull a pillow over my face. She rolls her eyes as she lays next to me on the bed.

“Let’s go bar hopping tonight! You love that shit” she yells as she shakes my aching body! She wasn’t wrong, bar hopping was probably my favorite activity. I lay there and contemplate whether I should get cute and have fun or lay in the imprint I have made in the bed and cry.

“I’ll buy you Chipotle” and with those four words, I hopped in the shower, got dressed, and was ready to head out the door.

9:30 Pm

Me and quen were on our second bar of the night and I felt alive again. I had flashes of images of Paige in my mind throughout the night but I decided I would deal with that issue when I went home. 

“Girl, can you go order us some drinks? I gotta piss real bad” Quenlin said, doing the potty dance at her grown age. 

“Go ahead, and stop doing that shit” I laugh as she waddles off to the bathroom. I make my way up to the bar and order me and my friend vodka cranberries. 

I twiddled my thumbs waiting for the drinks, when I finally heard it.

“Hey beautiful” My body froze when I heard the voice I had longed for so much but also dreaded hearing. I slowly turned my head to see the beautiful blonde that had been occupying my mind for months.

She looked so good, but also drained.

Words tried so hard to leave my mouth but nothing came out.

“You look good. Like, good. Guess the break up was good to you” She lets out an awkward laugh as I am still in shock but gain the ability to speak.

“Eh. It was ok for me. A lot of crying hehe” I mentally slap myself, who the fuck says that. 

“Yeah, same” She looks down at her feet trying to figure out what to say next.

“Listen, can we talk, please? I wanna fix this. I-”

“Unh Unh! What are you doing here” Quenlin appears from thin air as she jumps in front of me to confront Paige. This breaks me out of my trance as I jump to defend Paige. 

“No, Quen! It’s ok! Me and her are just going to talk outside” I put my hands on my best friend's shoulders to calm her down. She turns to look at me and then back at Paige.

“Fine, but if you try some manipulative shit, it’s me and you” she pokes piage with her finger before walking away. Paige looks back at me “I never liked her. I just want you to know that.”

I laughed as I walked to the door, Paige following close behind. When we get a good distance away from the bar we stop and just look at each other.

I can tell she’s trying to find words to say, I couldn’t find any either.

We stood in silence for a few more minutes before one of us finally spoke.

“I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I made you feel like shit for so many months. You should have been my priority and I didn’t do that” Paige let out a shaky breath before looking down at the ground. I waited for her to continue but….she just stopped.

“Paige…that's not the only reason why I wanted to take a break. Yes, you ignoring me was a big part of it but there was so much more” She finally raises her head to look me timidly in the eyes.

I take a shaky breath before continuing. “It was the petty comments, the constant arguing, and the insecure feeling I always felt” I started choking up on my words, and the memories of me and the girl I love screaming at each other came flooding back.

“I'm sorry! I was just so stressed with basketball, the interviews, and the constant attention that I guess I got stressed” She quickly tried to defend herself, flailing her arms in the air.

“I understand how stressful that could be but…I would've been there for you. I could've listened to your rants, helped you during solo practice, and helped you calm down when you were nervous about an interview…but you shut me out and started bullshit arguments for no reason. I love you so much. I just wanted to help you” I felt a tear roll down my face.

I saw Paige’s face change from defensive to vulnerable in the middle of the conversation.

I let out a sigh as Paige drops her head, tears falling down her pretty face. “Paige, I love you so much. You’re probably the best thing that has happened to me in a long time” I take her hands in mine “but when we have an issue, you can’t just shut me out or brush it off. We need to talk. We need to express ourselves or else it’s just gonna get worse.”

Paige raises her head once more, looking into my brown eyes with her bloodshot blue eyes. “I know…I wanna be better for you baby. I will do anything to make it up to you. I just want things to go back to the way they were” She brings my hand to her lips, placing a tender kiss upon them.

I felt my skin turn hot as her lips connected to my skin, it’s kind of funny how we were together for so long and she still managed to make me nervous.

“I know it seems like an empty promise but I swear I will do everything that I can to make it up to you. I’ll communicate better and I will make sure to do everything that I can to remind you that you're the love of my…I can’t fucking lose you again y/n” she wraps her arms around my body, leaving another kiss on the top of my head.

On instinct, I wrap my arms around her to as I close my eyes to breathe in her perfume.

I was still angry with her but somehow I knew deep down that she was serious about wanting to be better for me. 

She pulls back to look into my eyes before she places an unexpected but loving kiss on my lips. I felt like I was floating on air as my lips touched the ones that they have been craving for three months. With this simple act, she knew that I forgave her 

As we pull away she rests her forehead on mine. 

“Can we just start over please, I miss you so much” Paige giggles while also sniffling. 

I let out a snort as I placed my hand on her cheek “Well we got a long way to go until we are back to the same place but, I think we’ll be ok”.

2 days later

“Ok! I think that’s the last of my shit” I let out a sigh of relief placing the last bit of my clothes back into me and Paige’s shared closet. I fell back into our bed, missing the smell of our sheets. 

I let out a grunt as Paige ran into the room and jumped on top of me. “Jesus Paige! I think you broke one of my ribs” I try to push her off of me as I let out a laugh.

Paige keeps her position on top of me as she puts her face into the crook of my neck. “I'm sorry, baby. I'm just happy you're back” she sighs as she kisses my neck.

“Ew, can yall wait to fuck until after I leave,” Quenlin says as she brings me some more of my stuff in from the car. I laugh as Paige finally rolls off me with a dramatic groan.

I walk over to Quenlin take the box of stuff from her hands and place it on the floor. “Thank you for letting me stay with you,” I say as I hug her.

“Of course, anytime! However, if this shit happens another time me and Paige are gonna have to tussle. You hear me” she yells towards Paige.

“I love you too, Quen” Paige blew a kiss to her.

Quen rolls her eyes before giving me a kiss on the cheek and leaving. 

“Why must y’all fight over me”

“Because you’re the most important thing to us, baby” Paige leaves another kiss on my lips before hopping back onto the shared bed that I will never leave again.

Y'all I am so fuckin sorry this came out so late! But here yall go <3

[senditcolton]

Can I please request some soft smut with William Nylander? I know you don’t write for him that much, but I love your writing so much!!

Finally, Finally, Finally

a/n: my dear anon!! thank you for requesting this because it is true, I don't write much for William but I do love him. so this is a wonderful push for me to write some more Willy Styles content. (I know I do at least have one other fic planned out with him, courtesy of my Mamma Mia series [gotta have the Swedes represented for obvious reasons]).

Word Count: 3.4k Warnings: smut! heavy makeout session, fingering, handjob, unprotected penetrative sex. but very sweet and loving smut, as requested!!

You gaze, peaceful, from your spot on the couch at your boyfriend William across the living room. The beer bottle in your hands still cool to touch as you watch him move around your space, vinyl record in his hand. It’s a simple beautiful moment to observe; how he carefully removes the pressing from its sleeve and places it on the turn table. His elegant fingers drop the needle precisely and the small scratch of static hits your ears before the sound of mellow guitars fills the air.

There was a part of you that still didn’t believe this was your life. You certainly didn’t expect it a year ago.

One year to the date, you were sitting in this same living room, playing guitar and trying to take your mind off of the fact that you were alone. Again. Another breakup, another night of wallowing in self-pity. That is, until your friend Stephanie called, inviting you to a local bar with her, Mitch, and a few of their friends. You almost said no. Now, you’re glad you didn’t. Because that was where you met William.

He was charming, sweet, kind. A night you had originally thought would include one or two drinks in one or two hours ended up lasting until last call. That night Will pulled you out to the makeshift dancefloor, spun you in time with the music from the jukebox. He ran through the streets with you in the rain to get to his car. He drove you home and you left him with a kiss on the cheek and your number in his pocket.  

A year. An entire year since that first night and even back then, both of you knew that you shared some special connection, as if the universe planned for you all to meet in that specific moment at that specific place. That’s why earlier tonight, you went to that same bar for the anniversary of the night you met – the night things changed.

Those memories fill you with happiness and contentment, a gentle smile playing at your lips as you watch William turn back to you, a similar expression on his face. He doesn’t say anything, choosing instead to walk over to you sprawled out on the couch before coming to a stop in front of you.

Your head tilts in a silent question, one that is answered by Will holding out his hand to you, upturned palm warm and inviting.

“Dance with me?”

The answer is an obvious one, so blatant that you don’t bother giving a verbal reply. You simply take a final sip of your beer and place it on the coffee table before reaching out to him. Your hand slips into his, your skin brushing against the callouses and William’s fingers tighten around you. He helps lift you up onto your feet before guiding you to the empty space of your living room.

Everything about being with William is easy, so it’s no surprise how easy it is to fall into his hold, your arms lifting up to rest on his shoulders as his wrap around your waist. Your eyes take in the sight of him; his bright blue irises, his blonde hair even more golden in the low lamplight of the room, the gentle rise and fall of his chest.

“What are you thinking about?” he whispers, slowly swaying you as the music continues.

“Nothing really,” you reply with a gentle shrug. “Just thinking about how lucky I am. How handsome you are. The usual things.”

Your gentle joke pulls a chuckle from William’s chest, his body moving closer to you. You let yourself sink deeper into his hold, your head coming to rest on his chest, breathing in the scent of his cologne, matching your heartbeat to his.

“We are pretty lucky,” he muses, the sound of his voice vibrating through his chest. “I sometimes still can’t believe I was lucky enough to meet you. And that you took an interest in me.”

His statement causes you to pull your head back, looking at him with a confused expression on your face. It sounded odd, coming from his mouth: the doubt. William sees your bewilderment, offering a gentle smile before he continues.

“Steph told me that you had recently broke up with your ex. That you might not show up. That you weren’t really looking for anything serious. Imagine how it felt, starting the night with that information. Imagine my bewilderment with how the night ended.”

He grins at you, those memories running through his head with the same crystal-clear vision that they had been playing in yours. You return his smile, your hand coming up to cradle his jawline, your thumb gently brushing over the stubble on his cheek.

“It was hard to resist you. Even if I wanted to.”

Your quiet confession dances through the air, mixing with the acoustic guitar still pouring from the speakers. The sound of it hits William’s eardrums and the look he directs your way tells you that it’s the sweetest melody that he has ever heard.

There is no stopping it, the way the two of you lean into each other, your lips meeting in a gentle kiss.

Even though you had shared many kisses in the year you had been dating, you knew that you would never get tired of kissing William. He tasted like summer; like green apples and the promise of something more.

Will’s hands tighten around your body, pulling you impossibly closer to him. Your mouth opens in a sigh and he takes the initiative to kiss you deeper, his tongue dancing against yours. It was always impossible to stop the gravity of him, to resist the temptation of falling into his orbit. Not that you ever wanted to.

It is almost blind, the way that William and you stumble back to the couch, lips and bodies still pressed against one another. You only separate when the back of his calves hit the couch cushions, his body sinking onto the sofa while you remain standing. His eyes look up at you, staring at you like you were the most exquisite human in the world. Which, to him, was the truth.

You offer him a slightly mischievous smirk as your hands drop to the hem of your shirt, slowly peeling the fabric from your frame, exposing more of your skin to him. He keeps his gaze locked onto you, the only evident indication of his desire being the way his irises darken when you throw your shirt to the side. You are tempted to kiss him again; to climb into his lap and have him hold you close but you push against that need for a moment. Instead of your hands falling to William like you want them to, they find the button of your jeans, undoing the clasp and zipper before you push them down your thighs.

Finally, you lean forward, your hands resting on Will’s shoulders as you step completely out of your jeans. Will steadies you, his strong hands holding onto your hips, preventing you from tripping on the discarded fabric until you are completely settled in his lap, your legs resting on the outside of his thighs, knees digging into the couch cushions. You smile at him again, your hands drifting up to gently play with the long strands of his hair.

“You’re absolutely gorgeous,” he whispers, his eyes still staring into yours. You weren’t planning on stopping the smile that appears on your face at his words, but even if you were, it would have been in vain. This is the way William loved you; he always stated it as a fact. The sky is blue, the earth is round, you are beautiful, and he loves you.

It was just a list of undeniable truths.

“You’re pretty stunning yourself,” you giggle, leaning in to kiss him again, relishing the way you could feel his smile through the kiss.

The hands that were on your hips start to wander, first moving down to trace over the curve of your ass and down your thighs before retracing their path and continuing upwards. His thumbs caress the cut of your ribcage, the curve of the bone guiding his touch up to your breasts. You can’t help but whimper into the kiss when he traces the outline of your bra, each new edge his fingertips encounter pulling him in a different direction. It’s the most exquisite form of torture, his hands all over your body but never truly touching you.

His fingers move towards your back, tracing up and down your spine once – twice – before he finally grips your bra and effortlessly unclasps it, the fabric loosening. The two of you break away just long enough for you to let the garment fall away. William doesn’t hesitate to lean in, kissing you only once before his lips descend down the column of your throat, across your collarbones and decolletage. You sigh, leaning your head back as he slowly marks you, claiming you as his; a fact that you had never refuted.

One of your hands tangles deeper in his hair, keeping him close to you while the other descends, crossing the planes of his back, gliding over the ridges of his shoulder blades and the cut of his muscles. It’s when Will takes one of your nipples into his mouth that your fingers twist into the fabric of his shirt, a soft whisper of a moan escaping you.

Through the haze of your pleasure, it slowly dawns on you at how unfair the current situation is: you, sitting on William’s lap with your underwear being the only thing preventing you from being completely naked while he was still fully clothed. You start to tug at the fabric of his shirt, slowly inching it up his back until he eventually registers your movements and tears his mouth away from your body. He grins at you, one of his eyebrows raised in a teasing silent question.

“You’re wearing too many clothes,” you pout, continuing to pull at his t-shirt. Will simply chuckles at your words before his hands fall from yours and grip the cotton, pulling his shirt off his body.

“Better?”

“Much,” you reply, capturing his lips in a kiss again as your hands now dance across the newly exposed skin. William’s own hands come to rest at your hips, content to switch roles and let you explore his body, which you gladly do.

Your fingers trace his chest, pausing briefly to play with the golden chains still hanging from his neck, before dropping down. The kisses you give move from his lips to his neck as your hands continue to dip lower, nails gently tracing over his abs, his stomach tightening in response. It isn’t long until your fingers find the waistband of his own jeans, tracing over the edge before gliding over the bulge of him, palming the stiff outline of his cock through the denim. You can feel the vibrations of a groan that rises from his chest as you continue your movements, your own hips rolling in response.

“Baby… älskling… please.”

The gentle whines that escape from William’s throat are enough for you to return to the waistline of his jeans, your fingers deftly undoing the button and the zipper. You slip you hand underneath the fabric covering him, finally contacting his silken skin. Another moan emulates from his chest, his own grip tightening against your hips as you curl your fingers around his length, gently stroking him.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he praises, the words just making the fire inside you roar even brighter. You continue your languid movements against his cock, your lips retracing up the curve of his throat before hovering against the shell of his ear.

“I feel even better wrapped around you.”

You pull your face away, your sultry whisper still lingering in his ears as your eyes connect with his, a playful spark in your irises. William is simply staring at you as if he couldn’t believe you were real – a statement that he had said to you, multiple times before. You grin, your hand stroking him once again. It’s as if that sensation brings him back to the moment, his head falling against the couch cushions briefly before his eyes reconnect with yours, your grin now reflected on his lips.

“Show me,” he dares and that’s all it takes for you to lean in and kiss him once more. William’s hands rest gently on your thighs while your hands move away from his skin to grip at the waistband of his jeans and underwear, tugging both downward.

Underneath your body, you feel his hips lift, his hands and lips falling from you as he assists you in removing the remaining material from him. You busy yourself by reattaching your own lips to his neck, gently sucking and nipping at the skin, impatiently waiting for him to kick away the denim and cotton. Your actions partially distract Will but also spur him on and it isn’t long before his hands find your waist once more, holding you tight and guiding your hips down to meet his.

A mutual groan escapes both of you at the feeling of him pressed against your hot core, one of his hands lifting to cradle your head and pull you back to his lips. His other hand, still steady on your waist, gently tugs you forward and you oblige is silent request, rolling your hips against his. Every gasp and moan you utter is swallowed by him as you continue to gently rock back and forth on his lap, the fabric of your now soaked underwear creating a beautiful friction.

“I can feel how wet you are älskling,” Will whispers against your lips, his statement as staccato as your breathing, his need clearly as powerful as yours. “Already ruined, always so needy.”

“It’s all because of you,” you whine, your forehead pressed against his as your hips continue to move. “Always make me feel so good.”

“Wanna make you feel better,” he groans, his hands tightening to still your movements. You whimper at the loss of sensation but William doesn’t leave you hanging long as he lifts your hips off of his.

One of his hands glides down your leg before curling around to the inside of your thigh, tracing upwards before connecting with your core. You gasp, your eyes flying open to connect to his when you feel his fingers hook around the damp fabric, pulling it sharply to the side and exposing your slit to the cool air. Will just shoots you a grin as his fingers move again, the rough calloused skin finally connecting to your soaked folds.

You can’t stop the way your eyelids flutter shut as his fingers glide over you, meeting no resistance as they move up before connecting with your clit. You whine, your hands tightening on his shoulders as he rubs his fingertips against the bundle of nerves, every movement making your cunt pulse with need.

“William, please – I want you. Wanna feel you, please,” you beg, every ministration of his hand pulling you closer to that edge but never quite far enough. The sound of his quiet hum hits your ears before his hand falls away from your core. You open your eyes and lock gaze with him, seeing that pure admiration in his own pupils – admiration that would normally have you melting right then and there if you weren’t already so high-strung.

“Anything for you, min käraste,” he replies, the hand still on your body gently urging you to sink down onto him.

It is all encompassing, the feeling of him pressing into you, filling you up. Your mouth drops in a silent moan at the sensation. The sound that falls from William is more audible but just as satisfied as his grip tightens around you, the heat of his breath fanning across your cheekbones. You blindly chase his lips, capturing his mouth in yours and swallowing his moans, your hands tangling in his hair.

You feel his fingers flex against your skin – a silent demand that you are all too willing to obey – and you start to move your hips, slowing finding a gentle rhythm. Each roll of your body shoots another blaze of fire up your spine as you and Will messily kiss, the pleasure almost too overwhelming for you both.

A gasp falls from you as Will moves his hips up to meet yours, grazing that damnable spot within you that has you seeing stars. There is no stopping how your head falls back, lifting up towards the ceiling. Never deterred, William reattaches his lips to your collarbones, shoulders, and breasts as you two continue to move against each other.

It’s intoxicating: how he makes you feel, every movement of him inside you, every touch of his hands, every kiss he presses against your skin. That delectable pleasure builds within you, your movements faltering as Will continues to bring you to that peak.

“Let go, älskling. Let me feel you,” he whispers, the sentence punctuated by his hand slipping back between your thighs, pressing against your clit once more. The sensation has your head snapping back to look down at him, your chest and face surely flushed, your eyes filled with desire and pleasure and absolute love for the man in front of you.

It is a perfectly timed thrust combined with a skilled stroke of his fingers against you that has you coming undone, your body stilling as your orgasm thrums through you. Your head falls further down, burying itself into the juncture of his neck and shoulder, your teeth gently grazing the strong muscle there as William continues to move, prolonging your release.

He soon stills, always the attentive lover, letting you recover even though you can still feel him painfully hard within you. You sigh into his skin, kissing his neck before your hips roll again. A sharp gasp falls from him in response to your movements, the pleasurable sensation of you warm and wet around him somehow ratcheted up even more after you’ve come.

“Please, William,” you purr into his ear as your hips continue to roll, albeit less steady than before, your muscles feeling weak thanks to your prior motions and resulting orgasm. You mouth soft kisses against his jawline, your hands still tangled in his blond hair, nails gently scraping against his scalp. “I want to feel you come inside me. Please, min kärlek.”

The sound of those syllables, the sound of you speaking his native tongue, especially when coupled with your gentle pleas has his body stiffening beneath you, his own orgasm crashing into him. You moan at the sensation of him spilling within you, a newer feeling but one you knew you would never tire of as William wraps his arms around you, holding you close, his own moans hot against your ear.

The two of you stay there for a moment in the afterglow, bodies pressed against one another. You can feel Will’s fingers gently tracing up and down your spine while your own fiddle with the hair at the nape of his neck. You slowly lift yourself up, a small smile tugging at the corner of your mouth when you spy the darkening love bites scattered across his skin, William shooting a similar smirk, no doubt at the matching evidence on your decolletage.

Your hand falls from his hair to cup his jaw, thumb gently running over his cheek as you take in the sight of him, practically golden and glowing beneath you.

“I love you,” you whisper.

“I love you too, min käraste,” Will replies, bringing his own hand up to gently grasp your chin, pulling your lips to his in a tender kiss.

While the vocalization of those words may have been somewhat recent, it felt as if you and William had exchanged them long ago: before this moment, before the first time you said them to each other, even before the two of you became exclusive. Those words sang their truth from both of your hearts on that very first night you met.

You knew you would be forever thankful for the universe for sending him to you a year ago. He was everything you wanted – everything you never knew you needed. But now, one thing was for certain; you had finally found that one person that made it safe for you to fall.

tagging: @thewintersoldierdisaster because I know you are in your Nylander era and @laurenairay who signed up with my new taglist... which you can SIGN UP FOR HERE!!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Stolen Goods 3

Warnings: noncon and other dark elements. As usual, be mindful of your content consumption.

Ft. Lloyd Hansen, petite!pregnant reader

I also beg of you to leave me some tuppence in the form of a comment and/or reblog. You are cherished!

Enjoy, my loverlies.

You hit the back of the trunk with your fist, the tires put to the limit as the man drives without caution. He's honked several times and screeched to many jarring halts. You're trapped in more than just that compartment, bouncing around with the groceries, you're enshrined in a fervour of fear and despair. 

Why is this happening to you? Who is this man? What is he going to do to you? 

Well, what has he already done? 

“Please, sir, I won't tell anyone,” you beg through the back seat, "please. Just take me back--" 

"Do you like classic rock? Jazz?" He asks as the car swerves and he switches lanes. Holy shoot, is he on the highway?  

"What? Please, I promise--" 

"You're distracting me, sweet stuff, you're gonna get us both pancaked by a sixteen-wheeler," he clucks, "just calm down and enjoy the music." 

He flips on the stereo and the local pop station plays. He hums along for a moment, "Ariana, nice." He turns up the familiar top ten and you whimper. 

This is surreal. You really can't believe it. It all happened so quickly. The way he touched you, the way you just stood there and let it happen, then how he just locked you in here! Who does that? Who lets someone do that? Who doesn't raise her voice and tell him to stop? Or ignore him and get in the car and drive away? 

You. You're stupid. You should have been patient and waited for Jake. You should have done so much differently.  

Your tears spring as easily as ever. Your hormones have you always ready to overflow and now seems as suiting as that cat food commercial. You crumble completely, giving up on begging, and bawl. You're going to die, your baby too. 

Maybe that's your fault too. You were so scared when you saw the positive. When you realised the condom broke. There was that split second you wished it wasn't true. When you hoped that it might undo itself. Then you wanted it. You still do. Your baby. Things aren't perfect but you can make them better. 

You jostle with the paper bags, wallowing in your resignation and dread. Time throttles you until it feels like the whole world is on your chest. You hug your belly and apologise to your child. You're supposed to take care of them. 

When the car stops, the sudden dearth of sound slaps you in the face. You sniffle and listen with breath bated. The driver's side opens and dips. He stands and his footfalls stride undaunted towards the trunk. 

You brace yourself. You can't give up yet. The lock clicks and the lid lifts. You push it up before he can open it all the way but he has his hand on your neck before you can leap out. 

"Oh, baby cakes," he squeezes and you cough, "you don't think I'm that stupid, do you?" 

The dimming sky shrouds his figure and he puts cold metal to your cheek, "you don't wanna get yourself hurt. Or the kid, huh?" He presses the metal barrel firmly to your temple, "I don't wanna hurt you either but you gotta give a little." 

"S-sorry," you choke out and latch onto his thick wrist, teetering on your knees as the rest against the edge of the trunk, "I---I--" 

"I know, baby. You're scared. Change is terrifying but I heard you talking to the deadbeat," he pulls the gun away and holsters it. He eases you forward and helps you put your feet to the ground. He keeps a strong hold on you, "you can do better." He smirks, "hi, I'm better, but you can call me Lloyd." 

You gape at him. Is that a joke? 

“And you are...” he enunciates your name. “Sorry about your purse, I tossed it some ditch, but I got the important shit out of it.” 

“Huh?” You blink at him dumbly. 

“Phone’s wiped too. So, I’ll probably just break that down for parts--” 

“Wait, what? Why—please, why are you doing this?” 

“I’m not too sure myself, shortcake, but we’ll figure it out.”  

He slips his hand down to your wrist and pulls you away from the car. He shuts the trunk and the noise echoes off the high ceiling. You look up at the interior of the garage. Several cars are parked in the space. What kind of place is this? 

“Come on, you don’t wanna hang out in here,” he snorts and tugs you to follow him. 

All you can do is let him guide you. You keep your free hand on your stomach as your eyes burn. You can’t give up. You have to keep going for your baby. 

He takes you up a short set of steps and into a house just as colossal as the garage. He looks down at your feet as you stand on the mat. He tuts. Your slides were lost somewhere in your struggle. Your feet are cold and dirty. 

“Hm, well... what now?” He asks. 

“What now?” You squeak. “What do you--” 

“Look, honey buns, I’m not asking you,” he turns and keeps his hand around your wrist, walking you forward as if you’re on a leash. 

You’re confused. What does he mean? He doesn’t even know what he’s doing. What kind of man just does this spontaneously? 

“Erm, Lloyd,” you say softly, “it’s... not too late to take me back.” 

“Ah, but you’re wrong, sweet stuff. It’s way too late,” he snickers. “I scrubbed the traffic cams and the surveillance at the grocery store. It’s all gone. You’re gone.” He stops you in a bright foyer and faces you, “I don’t give my toys back.” 

[devils-dares]

Super self indulgent buttt could I get some Carmy Fluff ! Maybe reader calls Carmy over for help with cleaning their apartment/needing help cooking due to executive function issues !! Or vise verse :)

thanks for getting me out of my slump, wrote this in one night :)

wordcount: 721

-----

You looked at the pile of laundry in the corner of your bedroom. Blinds closed, dirty sheets, cups and plates stacked in haphazard piles.

You haven’t taken care of yourself in days, evidence of it lay in the pimples that mar your face, and the smell of the perfume you wore into the office going rotten on your skin.

It’s time to call in the big guns, you think.

A phone call and fifteen minutes later, you hear clattering around your apartment. You sink further into your bed, embarrassment heating your cheeks, turning you red. A few windows open, and the chime of the washer rings across the apartment. You hear grumbling and movement in your kitchen, he’s looking for the lighter, the starter went out in the stove and you didn’t call to get it fixed yet. The pot scrapes against the metal grates of your stove, and you hear ingredients plonk into the water, he must be making a stew. The floor creaks under the weight of his steps, and he knocks on the door before he enters.

“Hey, Birdie.” Carmy says softly, seeing your back to the door. He straightens out piles of laundry and opens the shades just a little so he can get some light in. “Gonna warm the shower, then I’ll come get ya.” He leaves, and the pipes creak loudly before the showerhead shoots hot water.

He walks over to the kitchen to check the stew before coming to get you. He comes around the other side of the bed and smiles at you, brushing your matted hair out of your face. Extending his hand, Carmy waits for you to take it. The smile grows into a soft grin as your fingers tangle with his, and he pulls you out of bed.

“Look at ya, Birdie. So pretty.” You know he’s a liar, and he’s probably fighting off the recoil from your stench, but he lets nothing slip. You don’t speak, even as he strips you and puts you in the shower himself, or when he sits on the closed toilet lid instead of leaving the bathroom. You don’t dare speak when he tells you about the restaurant, and how he and Syd finally perfected that damn recipe. He doesn’t say anything when you shampoo thrice, or scrub til your body turns red. He doesn’t flinch when you sit under the stream of hot water for a while. He simply grabs your towel from the dryer and wraps you in it before wrapping your wet hair for you. He rubs lotion on your flaky skin and dresses you in soft clothes.

Carmy takes you to the couch, and you notice the first load in the washer is done, the blankets and pillow covers on the couch smelling like clean laundry and scent beads. He stirs the stew and then starts on your bedroom, stripping the mattress of your sheets before throwing those in the washer.

“Stew smells delicious.” You say, breaking your bout of silence since he’s been here. It’s a soft smile you get in return.

“Yeah? Michael’s recipe, called it ‘everything and the kitchen sink’.”

“Thank you, Carm.”

“Always, Birdie.” He clicks on your favorite movie, letting it distract you as he empties the dirty dishes from your room. You’re completely encapsulated in the film when he sits down next to you again, right in time for the ending. You lean forward in your seat, moving your mouth to the words said on-screen.

Carmy smiles. Your sheets were clean, clothes were in the wash. You’d showered and now you’d be eating soon. He did his job, and now he was going to dote on you relentlessly.

“You gotta go back?” You ask quietly, and he shakes his head.

“Syd and Richie can handle it. Marcus made these beautiful cakes, said he wants you ‘round to taste ‘em soon.” He says, making sure you’re thinking about the future and not wallowing in your current thoughts.

“I’ll be by.” You smile, and he can finally have some relief, you’re back in some capacity.

“I’ll tell him. Stew?” He asks, and you shake your head.

“Here, just a little longer.” You say, shifting to lay against him. The tips of his fingers get that excited tingle in them.

“Long as you need, Birdie. I’m here.”

[thezombieprostitute]

Lloyd Hanson - Soulmate AU

A/N: I swear, I tried to ignore him but that only made things worse. @alicedopey didn't help!

Word Count: ~1.8k

Warnings: Reader is kidnapped. Smut. Sub/Dom dynamics vs Dub Con?

The bag is removed from your head and you're finally able to get a look at your surroundings. It's a dark room with one light above the table. It looks like one of those police interrogation rooms in TV shows. The duct tape is ripped from your mouth and you hiss from the pain. You test the bonds around your wrists, tied behind your back, but they're too secure to wiggle out of.

The chair across from you is abruptly pulled back and you're face to face with a tall, broad, blue eyed man with a porn mustache. He's smiling at you. You say nothing, letting your confusion show on your face. He rolls up his shirt sleeve and you see his soulmate tattoo. It's an exact match for yours.

"You couldn't have just bought me a coffee," you ask, trying to keep from snapping.

"Sweetheart," he coos, "you're my soulmate. I have to get you used to what the rest of your life is going to be."

You raise an eyebrow at that, "I'm going to constantly be kidnapped and talk with over-the-top idiots?"

He laughs at your comeback, "not quite. But I do have a lot of enemies and I gotta make sure my soulmate doesn't panic, cry and rat me out if they get picked up." He leans forward and rests his arms on the table. "And I gotta say, you are a champ!"

"I'm good at getting kidnapped," you deadpan. "What a wonderful compliment."

"Not easily scared, sassy and sarcastic," he croons. "You really are my soulmate." He winks and you roll your eyes.

"How did you find me," you ask. "I rarely, if ever, let my soulmate tattoo show."

"Someone used a rare photo of your mark to draw me in," he admits. "Imagine my surprise when it was someone trying to kill me."

"And from there you were able to find me," you nod. "Any chance of untying me, now that you know I'm not trying to kill you?"

"I dunno," he leers, "I'm kinda getting hard at the thought of you being so helpless to stop me."

"I swear to whatever deity will listen, I can and will bite you. Literally and metaphorically."

"Metaphorically?"

"The reason you like me being tied up is because your limp dick needs to feel like it's actually capable of leaving some kind of imprint."

"Ouch!" He moves his hand over his heart, "you weren't kidding, Sunshine. That really hurt!" He leaned forward even more, grinning like a Cheshire cat, "do it again."

"The only reason you don't shave your mustache is because you enjoy getting looks from people because you're a needy man-baby who needs the attention."

"Ooooh, that feels so good," he leans back, chuckling. He makes a motion and someone comes up behind you and undoes your bindings.

"Thank you," you nod, rubbing your wrists.

"Ah, I was wondering where the niceness was." You raise your eyebrow again, silently asking him what he meant. "You work with people a lot and always get such glowing customer service reviews. That means you can at least pretend to be nice. But when I dig further, I find that you're a good neighbor who helps the old lady carry in her groceries. Helps the kiddies with their homework. All that wholesome stuff."

"I have social skills," you retort. "Kinda required for the job."

"You don't have a job anymore." You don't try to hide your surprise at that statement. His tone goes stern for the first time, "I can't have my soulmate wasting her time on other people. All of that goodness you do for others? You're gonna do it for me and only me from now on. I get to be the only outlet for your kindness and you're gonna pamper me every time I'm home."

“No I'm not.”

“Excuse you? I don’t see that you have much of a choice here Sweetie.”

“Not my fault you lack the imagination to see my options.” 

“Your options are to either tend to my every want and need or wallow in a basement on starvation rations.” You smile at him and enjoy the momentary drop in his confidence. “You will give me everything I want. In return, I’ll give you everything money can buy.” You throw your head back and laugh at that. He’s squirming a little, wondering what the hell is going on.

“You can have my submission when you earn it,” you coo. “And you don’t earn it by buying it.” You lean forward, putting yourself in his personal space. 

“What the hell is going on?”

You roll up your sleeve to show Lloyd the matching soulmate tattoo and put your arm next to his. At the first touch of your hand, you both feel the electricity that confirms the two halves have met. You reach out and gently rub his cheek with your hand and he leans into it, gently moaning before he catches himself. 

“You see, even though I don’t know your name, I can see right through you. Your reactions to my snipes and my politeness were quite telling. You do crave attention but you’ve only ever been good at getting negative attention. A soulmate could give you that positive attention you long for. Why else would you actually come looking for me? You could keep up that attention seeking behaviour without involving me but you put yourself at risk for the chance at meeting someone who might be kind to you. Who might like you, if only because they have to.”

“My name is Lloyd,” he grumbles.

“Thank you, Lloyd. I’d say it’s nice to meet you, but you definitely started on the wrong foot.” 

He goes silent but he doesn’t stop your hand rubbing his cheek. He wants to be angry at you. He wants to follow through on his display of force. But he can’t do that. He makes another hand motion and a door opens. He stands up, comes around the table and lifts you up out of your chair. 

“I don’t appreciate not being in control, Sweetheart,” he growls at you. “I may want all of your affection but I will not hesitate to use force if you try to take control from me ever again.”

“As I said, you can have my submission when you’ve earned it.”

“And how do I do that? You turned down my offer of everything money can buy.”

“Treat me like a queen or goddess, not a pet.”

Lloyd takes a deep breath and starts walking towards the door, taking you with him. You manage to keep pace as he leads you through several hallways, up some stairs and finally emerging into, what you can easily assume to be, a mansion. He doesn’t stop to let you take too close of a look. He leads up the wide staircase, to a set of double doors. He pushes them open and you see a giant, canopy bed. You also see things that, while you can’t name them, you're pretty sure they’re meant for BDSM activities. 

He pulls you towards him, wrapping you in his arms, and forces your face up to look at him. “You’re not the only one who can read people, Sweetheart,” he purrs. “You enjoy being a bratty, submissive slut. You want someone who can properly dominate you, satisfy that craving your cunt aches for.”

He walks you to the bed as he keeps talking, “you always tried to hide your tattoo because it was your one rebellion against a world that makes you feel helpless. You are kind to your neighbors because you’re too stubborn to let your customer service job kill your soul.”

He pushes you onto all fours on the bed and smacks your ass. “And your unusual calm at being kidnapped? You expect the world to fuck you over.” He smacks your ass again and you bite back a moan. “You expect things to be out of your control so you don’t sweat it when you’re proven right.” He smacks your ass a few more times and you can’t stop the moan that escapes you. As soon as he hears it he chuckles. “You don’t want to be treated like a pet? Fine.” He spanks you again. “But I won’t treat you like a goddess or a queen.” Another slap. “I’m gonna treat you like the dirty slut you’ve always wanted to be.” Another slap. “And I’ll make sure you never feel you have to be more than just the cock hungry whore you really are.” 

The spanking continues, hard, fast and painful, until your arms give out. Lloyd reaches his arms around you and pulls you up so that your back is flush against his muscular chest. One hand holds you up by your neck. His other hand reaches under your clothes and smirks at how wet you are. He gathers up some of the slick and starts rubbing circles over your clit. You start whining and gasping at the sensations but you don’t dare move your hips. You’re certain he’ll stop if you do anything he doesn’t tell you to and you don’t want this to stop. 

He whispers in your ear, “so long as you never try to wrestle control from me again, I’ll treat how you really want to be treated.” His fingers move faster and you whimper from how close you are. “Not like a queen or a goddess, no. Not a pet, either.” You’re focused on not moving, trying to make sure that his fingers continue to work their magic. “I’ll treat you like my dirty little slut who will do anything so long as I let her cum.” 

His grip on your neck tightens and he whispers, “cum for me.” Your orgasm hits you harder than you ever thought possible. He keeps his fingers moving as he whispers “such a good slut.” As the ecstasy ebbs your legs start shaking and he lays you down on your back. 

Lloyd licks his fingers and moans appreciatively. He pulls off your pants and underwear, whistling appreciatively at the mess you’ve made of your panties. You try to lift yourself on your elbows but he pushes you back down. “You move when I tell you to, Sweetheart,” he orders, his tone making you whimper. He winks at you, “now let me show you the real reason I keep this mustache.”

[ornii]

Yoo can i request a wenclair x male reader who is a streamer but no one knows about it in the school until Enid saw a fan of reader ask him for a picture

Tier 3 Sub!

Enid Stares hard and intently at the Computer screen as she watches a streamer who rarely shows his face, Wednesday peers into the room.

“You’ve been staring at that computer screen for four hours, as little as I care about your wellbeing it is.. odd for you.” Wednesday started. Enid turned to her, smiling.

“This guys voice is, so beautiful! I can’t see his face though..” Wednesday shook her head.

“I never understood the obsession of others though a screen, and his voice most likely isn’t even—“ Wednesday droned on, until the Streamer saw a request.

“What songs can you mimic?” Good question, I’ve been working on the pitch for d4vd, like this” he clears his throat and effortlessly hits the right notes.

“Watch the sunrise along the coast / As we're both getting old / I can't describe what I'm feeling / And all I know is we're going home / So, please don't let me go / Don't let me go~

And if it's right, I don't care how long it takes / As long as I'm with you, I've got a smile on my face / Save your tears, it'll be okay / All I know is you're here with me~ “

“I still gotta work on the pitch.” He awkwardly laughs, Wednesday and Enid are both now staring at the screen. He gets another request from Enid this time.

“Oh, WolfiutUwU2012. Asks if I play and instruments, I do! Let me show if I can.” He adjusts his camera to focus on the wall, as a black guitar was on the shelf, Wednesday noticed the wall and door nearby. It was a boys dorm, and the window showed the Quad at a downward angle.

“I know that room..”

“You know his room?!”

(Y/n) was enjoying his stream as per usual, until there was a scary and frantic knock at his door, “sorry guys gimmie a sec.” He stood up and walked to the door, but not before muting the stream. He opened the door and Wednesday stood there, he tilted his head a bit. “Uh.. Hello?” He said.

“Sing for me again.” She spoke so calmly, which just made (Y/n) uncomfortable. “I-I’m sorry?..”

“Save your tears, I don’t know how but your infectious voice wracked my brain..” Wednesday stepped closer, making (Y/n) retreat back. Enid finally catches up to Wednesday and grabbed her friend by the shoulder

“I am so sorry about—“ Enid looks (Y/n) in the eyes and immediately stopped talking, he looked was carved out of marble by a sculptor, a god.

“My.. friend..” Enid blinked a few times and (Y/n) gave an awkward smile.

“So.. you guys like the stream.”

“Very much.” Wednesday said, “your voice is like a soothing poison in my ears, wallowing me into a enteral slumber.”

“…” (y/n) looked at Enid for help.

“She means she likes it.. sorry for bursting in your room! We’ll leave you alone now! Btw gonna be a tier three sub!” Enid pulls Wednesday out and slams the door shut. (Y/n) shook off his creepy and unironically hilarious that interaction was, he went back to his chair and sat down, the camera aimed slightly down to his chest.

“Sorry about that…” he said, many question marks and “what happened” floods his stream and he laughs. “I met.. two really cool people. Both of them were really cute too..”

He didn’t have to hide his smile, and was having the time of his life, maybe this new streaming thing does have more benefits than he expected.

[size0forhollywood]

Metafiction

Pt 5

Content Warning: NSFW, 21+, Smut, Angry Sylus, makeup sex, this chapter is just one giant sex scene.

A/N: Well that took a turn we weren’t expecting..or deep down did we know that that’s how things were going to go? And was that Xavier? Hmm, who knows..guess we just gotta keep reading then hey?

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

“They were after you…and your evol.”

~

Sylus’ words stuck in your mind over the next several days.

What the hell does this all mean? Why do you have an Evol? None of this makes sense. None of this made sense in the first place but this? This was just getting too strange for you.

But you can’t deny what happened. What you saw. Everything just feels like its collapsing around you.

The worst part was you’re not even that sad that you almost died.

Right now you were curled up in bed crying again because you felt betrayed. You felt used and stupid for letting yourself enjoy your day with him.

You were just starting to accept that maybe you did have feelings other than hatred towards Sylus.

But now you’re back to square one.

The door to the bedroom opens and Sylus walks in, he approaches the bed and is standing next to you.

“Time to get up.”

You don’t move, don’t even look at him.

“No.” You say softly.

“Get up.” He pulls the blanket off you.

You still don’t react.

“No.”

Sylus’ jaw clenches.

“You’ve been wallowing in this bed for a week now. Get up.”

“How about you just fuck off and leave me alone?”

Sylus grabs your arm and pulls you up.

“Let go!” You start hitting at his arm.

“Look at me!” Sylus commands.

You shake your head and grab at his arm and start digging your nails in trying to break the skin.

“What are you a cat?”

“Let me go!”

Sylus starts pulling you to the bedroom door.

“Sylus let go!”

A teal light shines and Sylus is flung out of the room.

You stand there horrified looking at your trembling hands..

what..the..fuck?

Black red mist starts seeping in and before you can react your hands are bound together.

Sylus steps through the door rubbing his shoulder.

“Seems you need a lesson on how to control that thing.”

“Sylus! Release me!” You try wriggling your wrists free but you can’t.

Sylus just grabs your bound wrists and takes you through the compound.

You protested every step of the way. You even drop to the floor but Sylus just picks you up and throws you over his shoulder.

You try to punch at his back but with how your hands are bound you just can’t get the force you need.

He takes you to a room that has a massive table in the middle, food was placed all around the table. A couch was off to the side and more books were placed on shelves on all the walls.

He sits you down at the table. Keeping your hands bound.

“What are you doing Sylus?!”

Sylus pulls up a seat and sits next to you. He grabs a fork and puts a bit of pasta on it. He holds it up near your face.

“Open up.”

That’s when you do something you never thought you would. You spat. You spat at Sylus.

For a moment he’s stunned. But that faded quick as his eyes glowed a dangerous red. His brows furrowed.

His hand goes to the back of you head and pulls your hair.

“Are you really this stupid?!”

“For trusting you? Yes!”

Sylus swipes at the table sending all the plates of food flying off.

“Don’t you see we’re one step closer to having all the answers?!” He forces you bent over the table. Pressing his body against yours.

“Why are you being so hostile towards me?!” He yelled.

“You used me! You tricked me!”

He scowls. Pulling you back to sit you down on your chair.

“How? Hmm? I never said why we were going out! You assumed it was something more!”

You can’t help it but a mixture of frustrated, angry and broken tears start falling down your face.

“Fuck you!” You sob.

“Fuck me huh?!”

Sylus pulls you so that you’re sitting on the chair with him straddling him.

He forces your head down and captures you in a kiss, you try to pull away but his grip on your hair is keeping you in place.

He keeps kissing you, his free hand holding onto your hip tightly. You start hitting his chest but he wasn’t relenting.

You start sobbing again in between kisses. The hand pulling on your hair comes down to your cheek and starts wiping away the tears.

“Why don’t you show a little gratitude hm?”

Sylus keeps his hand on your face, keeping you close to his.

“For what?!”

“I have been trying to help you this entire time. Trying to find a way to get you back home.”

You feel a pang in your chest and try to pull away but Sylus keeps you steady and flush ontop of him.

“You’ve done nothing but keep me captive, manipulate me and assault me since I’ve been here!”

Sylus frowns, a dangerous look on his face…mixed with a bit of..guilt? Pain? You weren’t quite sure..

His grip on your hip tightens and a heavy silence falls between you.

His glistening red orbs glare into yours and you feel a shiver creep down your spine. What was he going to do to you?

He lets out a heavy sigh and rests his forehead on your shoulder. Both hands on your hips and you just listen to him breathing against you.

After a moment his arms wrap around you and presses your bodies together in a hug.

Your body stiffens and you hold your breath. This was not what you expected.

“You make me so fucking angry.” He finally murmurs. His voice low and you can feel his chest rumble.

You can feel his erection starting to grow between your legs. His hands go back to your hips as he sits back and pulls your pelvis tight against his, grinding you against his hardening length.

You look away trying so hard not to give away how fucking good that felt. How it was making your cunt ache with need. But Sylus can feel it. He can feel the heat radiating there.

The red and black tendrils that were binding your wrists together vanish. Sylus’ hands grab your bottom as he stands up. The sudden movement forces you to hold onto his shoulders for support. You still refuse to look at him though.

He starts walking over to the couch.

“You literally come crashing into my world, my life..”

He sits down on the couch. Keeping you on top of him. His hands pulling at the hem of your nightgown and sliding it up your body.

“Challenging me, defying me..” he secures a hand on your hip again while the other travels up your back and grabs the back of your neck.

Forcing you to turn your gaze back to him. Your faces so close you can feel his breath on your lips.

“Making me burn for you…”

Your breath quickens, your hands still holding onto his shoulders. He captures your lips with his again but you don’t fight it this time, you lean into it. Accepting his tongue into your mouth, enjoying the way he gently bites at your bottom lip. A sweet melody of breathy moans escape you and you start rolling your hips slowly. Feeling Sylus’ restrained erection slowly rubbing against your aching, needy pussy.

Sylus lets out a deep groan and holds you tighter. His mouth starts trailing down your jaw line and neck, kissing nibbling, licking, tasting your sweet salty skin.

You should stop this. Stop this cycle of arguing which leads to fucking. You know deep down none of this is going to be a happy ending for either of you y/n.

You tilt your head to the side, giving him more of your neck. Your eyes squeezed shut, your mouth forming a small ‘o’ as more sweet moans leave your lips.

But you don’t stop it. You can’t. You need this. You need him. In every possible way.

“I’ve ached for you.. ever since I first touched you..” you feel him murmur against your neck. He drags his tongue up your neck till he gets to a spot just under your ear lobe and gently bites you.

“Ngh..” that made your whole body quiver. Especially your cunt and you can’t help yourself grinding against him again.

“Stand up.”

He releases his hold on you and you pull yourself off him. Standing between his legs.

“Take off your clothes..” he whispers.

His own hands starting to unbutton his shirt. You pull your night gown off over your body and let it fall to the floor next to you.

Sylus’ eyes look you up and down as he discards his shirt. Now unbuckling his belt so that he can get rid of his restricting pants.

“Panties too..” he commands and you oblige. Pulling them slowly down your thighs while he pulls his own pants and boxers down and kicks them off from around his ankles.

Your breath hitches in your throat. You’re seeing Sylus completely naked for the first time. You take in the glorious sight. His hard muscles and tan skin, broad shoulders and chest. You can feel your arousal starting to leak out of you as you finally take in the sight of his large throbbing cock. Erect for you.

“Come here..”

You mount Sylus, thighs spread either side of him. His hands on your waist holding you up. Your hands gripping his shoulders.

He’s looking up at you, his breath heavy but you’re the same. Searching his eyes, for something.

“It’s an ache I can’t seem to resist…” he kisses you once more and at the same time he’s rubbing your slick folds on the head of his cock. Teasing your entrance.

“Sylus..” you moan against his lips.

Why was he saying all this? Why doesn’t he just throw you down and take you like he usually does?

“Fuck.. the way you moan my name..” he slowly starts to press himself into you. Your hole still tight from the lack of foreplay.

Your fingers dig into his shoulders and you whimper at the feeling of him stretching you.

“I think about that sweet sound every second… every day.” He groans out.

Sliding deeper into you, feeling your hot, wet walls relaxing the deeper he goes.

Once he’s all the way in he pauses, just letting his cock throb inside you, feeling your muscles quiver momentarily around him.

He pulls his face back, looking into your eyes.

“I want to watch you fuck me.”

Your face goes red. “What?” You whisper.

He slides his hands down from waist to your hips. Gripping you tightly. He slowly rolls his hips and the pressure it puts deep inside you makes you moan out.

“I want to look at your face while you fuck me.” He repeats. His voice low and dripping with lust.

You bite your lip and look into his red lust filled eyes. You move your hands to the side of his neck and start with rolling your hips up and down, side to side.. trying to loosen yourself up around him.

Sylus’ face twists in pleasure and he lets out a breathy moan. You felt exquisite doing that.

You start lifting yourself up and down nice and slowly until you find a steady rhythm.

“F-fuck..” you whisper. His cock just feels so perfect in you. The way your pussy drags up and down his girthy length just makes you want to scream in pleasure. Sylus feels the same way. He grips your hips even tighter now. Definitely going to leave bruises.

The wet noises and squelching of your pussy fill the room. Combined with the sounds of yours and his moans and grunts. It creates a filthy symphony of pleasure and desire.

Sylus starts to match your rhythm, bucking his hips up.

“Hah.. tell me..” his eyes still very much on yours.

“Do you still..hate me..?” His voice breathless.

You feel yourself moving faster, desperate..

“Mn..y-yes..” you moan.

A small smirk appears on Sylus’ face. He starts thrusting up into you, harder, faster.

“F-fuck..yes!yes! I still hate you!”

You’re trying desperately to match his impressive speed. Slamming yourself down on him. Sylus growls and moans.

“You look so beautiful like this..!”

Your hands grip the back of his head pulling his hair. You come crashing down on his lips. Swallowing each others moans.

“Are you gonna fucking cum for me?” He growls against your lips.

Just when you thought he couldn’t get any faster, he does, slamming himself into you. Reaching that precious spot that will be your undoing.

“F..yes! I’m…gonna cum!” You cry out struggling to speak.

That familiar fluttering feeling builds in your core.

He bites your bottom lip. “Fuck you’re getting so tight..”

“Oh god..S.Sylus!” You scream out. Your whole body tightens. Your grip on his hair so tightly, threatening to rip chunks out.

“I’m cumming !” He holds you tighter against him but he doesn’t stop thrusting into you. Your hot wet walls gushing around him, vibrating and squeezing him.

“Fuck!”

Before you can comprehend anything Sylus has flipped your positions. He’s laid you down on the couch and threw your legs over his shoulders. You didn’t even feel his cock leave you.

He fucks into you deeper than before sending you into over stimulation.

“S-sylus..stop..” you whimper. Your legs shaking.

But he doesn’t, he can’t. Wet slapping noises driving him into an erotic frenzy.

Tears spilling down your cheeks as you’re filled with a pleasurable pain from his raw, animalistic fucking.

Sylus slows down for a moment and wipes the tears off your cheek?

“Are you okay?” He breathes heavily.

The show of concern melts your heart and you nod.

He picks up his speed and roughness again, enjoying the way you’re absolutely wrecked under him.

You feel it again, you’re approaching the edge of having another fucking orgasm.

Sylus feels it. Your hot, wet walls constricting him, sucking him in. He moans so loud for you.

You throw your head back, your eyes rolling back into your head. Mouth open. Your whole body trembles as wave after wave hits you. You’re screaming out Sylus’ name repeatedly.

“Fuccckkk!” Sylus stills as he cums hard and deep in you.

His thick seed coating your insides. He shudders with every spurt of cum that gets released.

You think you hear him whimper for a second but honestly you can’t tell. Your mind is in a fucking state of total euphoria that you can’t even remember your own name.

Sylus pulls his spent cock out of your wrecked, tender pussy. He eases your legs down and collapses beside you on the couch.

Both of you breathing so heavy as if you’ve run a marathon.

He gathers you up in his arms, holding you as close as possible to him, despite being drenched in sweat. Your legs tangled together in a sticky mess. You can feel the mixture of his cum and your pussy juices seeping out of you, dripping onto the couch.

But you two don’t move, you stay in this embrace.

Sylus is absentmindedly drawing shapes on your arm. His eyes closed and he’s humming a soft tune.

“Sylus..?” You call to him softly.

“Hmm?” His hum was so low and filled with bass.

He doesn’t stop his little humming tune as he waits for you to keep speaking.

You nestle in closer to him and decide you just want to stay in this moment a little longer. He gives you a little comforting squeeze. And not before long you hear his breathing steady.

He’s fallen asleep. You can’t help but smile a little.

And as if his sleeping form was contagious, you feel your own eyes growing heavy. You fall asleep listening to the sounds of his breathing.

I think we need a cold shower after this one y/n…

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

[angelsnkisses]

Study Break - Dalton Lambert x fem!reader <3

💟 nsfw - mdni 💟

A/N: there's not nearly enough stuff on here for dalton, so of course, i had to assist! i mean, the movie is still pretty new.. so that's probably why but whatevs :).

warnings: softdom!dalton, sub!fem!reader, oral (fem receiving), unprotected sex, creampie

Quiet, slow music hummed in your ears, flowing through your headphones as you tapped your pen against your lower lip. You stared down at your nearly blank journal page, brows furrowed and mouth turned in a scowl. You couldn't think of anything, not one idea for your paper, and it was bugging the hell out of you. You groaned after a hot minute of practically boring holes into the paper with your gaze, yanking out your headphones and laying your head on the desk.

"The universe is against me, I know it," you huffed, whiny and defeated. Dalton, who had been sketching and watching you work for the better part of two hours, looked up from his own book. He chuckled, but still smiled apologetically, getting up off the bed and walking over to stand beside you. He looked down at your paper, one of his hands rubbing your back with a gentle touch. "No it isn't, you've never done anything to the universe," he argued lightheartedly, crouching down next to the chair and tapping your back gently. You didn't respond, still wallowing in your own little vat of self pity.

"Hey, come on. You're gonna figure it out," he reassured, reading what you had so far before turning to you. He couldn't see your face, but he knew you probably had on that frustrated pout of yours, the one he secretly loved so much. You peeked down at him, sighing when you saw his face. Those eyes always pulled you in, took your mind off whatever it was you were even upset about it the first place. You rotated the chair to face him, leaning down and putting your hands on the sides of his face.

He was so sweet, so supportive despite you being just a little dramatic about your project. It wasn't due for a week, and your partner was doing half of it anyways. Your tense expression relaxed as you brushed his hair out of his face, cracking a small smile. "You're right, you're right. I'm being ridiculous, aren't I?" you asked, earning a little laugh. He shook his head in your hold, resting his hands on your knees and leaning up.

"Not ridiculous, you just worry too much," he teased, gaze flicking between your eyes and lips. You frowned a bit, still messing with his hair as you felt your face heat up. He was right, you did worry quite a bit. About your classes, him, work.. you couldn't help it. You moved your hand to cover his mouth when you saw him start to lean in, pushing his head away with a playful scoff.

"Better watch yourself, Lambert. I still gotta focus," you said, trying to sound annoyed. Really, you just sounded amused.. which you were. He groaned against your palm, his hand darting up to grab your wrist. He kept your hand against his face, turning it a bit and pressing a small kiss to the skin. "I'll help you de-stress," he said, his words a whisper between his kisses. He trailed the kisses up your arm, listening to your hesitant sigh.

"My roommate will be back soon," you reminded him, trying to ignore how good his lips felt. It was hard to say no to him, but your poor roommate had been traumatized enough times. She had already caught you twice, once being on her birthday. She always insisted it was fine and she should've knocked, but you always insisted it was your fault, and she shouldn't have to knock to get into her own dorm. Still, you really needed to start shooting them a warning text..

"I'll be quick. I swear," he vowed, his gaze longing and fervent. You couldn't help but get deja vu everytime you saw him between your legs, always remembering the first time he'd ever settled himself down there. That was over a year ago, when he was far more inexperienced and you had to teach him what you liked, etc. Now, he knows exactly how to get you to cum on his tongue over and over, and it's one of his favorite things to do. He watched you get lost in thought, that familiar look in your eyes telling him you were starting to give in.

"Yeah, that's it," he mumbled, his free hand squeezing your knee. He pushed lightly against it, trying to get you to open up your legs for him with encouraging hands. Your stomach did backflips when you saw how worked up he was getting, heat pooling between your thighs. Biting down on your lower lip and peeking at the small alarm clock on your desk, you hesitated, glancing between him and the paper.

"Just for a little while, then I'll let you work," he promised, thumbs rubbing anxious circles on your skin. You gaged his pleading gaze, warmth spreading over your skin where he touched you. You looked down at his hands, biting back a quiet noise. You always forgot how big they were, how long the fingers stretched.. you didn't stop him when they hooked into the waistband of both your shorts and underwear.

"Lift your hips for me," he murmured, the subtle dominance in his voice making your knees weak. You did as he said, heart pounding as you watched him peel them off your legs with ease. You slowly started to spread your legs apart once the fabric was discarded, feeling even more vulnerable when he inhaled sharply at the sight. Just the thought of him touching you more was enough to get you soaked, arousal glistening for him to see. You watched his eyes light up, legs shifting underneath him so he was on his knees as his hands gripped your thighs. He tugged you closer to the edge of the chair, a seemingly pleased hum emitting from his throat.

"Knew you'd like it," was the last thing he muttered before pushing his face forward, pressing his tongue flat out to lick a slow, greedy strip up your dripping cunt. The suddenness made you gasp, the warmth pulling a mewl from you as one of your hands laced into his hair. His name rolled off your tongue when he pressed a kiss to your clit, his lips soft and welcoming. Dalton peered up at you through dark lashes, one hand releasing your thigh. You squirmed under his stare, about to whine for more when he started gently sucking your clit between his lips. The moan you produced was intoxicating, filling his ears and egging him on.

You were too caught up in the feeling of his mouth to notice his hand moving just below his chin, index finger prodding at your sopping hole and catching you off guard. He was quick to smack one of your thighs upon them tightening around his head, a wordless warning that left your skin stinging. You pushed your legs back open shakily, fingers tightening as you pulled at his hair. The action instantly enticed a heavy moan, vibrating through your swollen clit and making you buck your hips involuntarily. The deep, muffled chuckle he released against you was unreasonably sexy, reminding you how desperate you were already acting for him.

You were about to apologize quietly, when his finger abruptly moved into the comfort of your warm walls, pumping slowly and clearing any considerations of speaking. Instead, you leaned against the back of the chair, breathing shallow and quick. "Dalton," you whimpered, the closeness making your whole body ignite with need. You were sure he could feel you practically throbbing against his lips, even more so when his middle finger joined the index. You almost felt guilty pulling at his pretty hair, the brown strands soft and silky between your fingers. You loosened them, carding through his hair instead in an attempt to taciturnly make up for the rough grip.

His fingers picked up speed when he felt you clench around them subtly, unable to help the proud feeling he was consumed with. He loved that despite his unruly life, nothing could affect his ability to make you feel good. Nothing could stop him from loving and caring for you, and that was good enough for him. He tried not to get all sappy, focusing on your trembling figure instead. He ignored the painfully hard bulge in his jeans, craving your release almost as much as you were. He longed to feel your slick coat his fingers, his movements picking up a bit. When his fingers started to curl, you just about lost it, heels digging into the ground as you tried to stabilize yourself.

"Mmh, don't stop," you begged, knowing damn well it wouldn't be the first time he took away your orgasm at the last minute. He had no ulterior motives tonight, however. He just kept up what he was doing, darkened eyes staying on you nearly the whole time. His cock ached at the sight of your face contorting in pleasure, that familiar little 'o' forming on your face as you cried out. His lips twitched up when you came undone on his face, his eyes rolling back just a bit as your familiar taste invaded his tongue. The majority collected on his fingers as he licked and tortured your overstimulated clit, your orgasm slowly beginning to subside as he helped you ride it out.

He pulled his fingers out, pulling back and inspecting them. He grinned at the sight of the sticky, pale substance, catching your tired eyes before pushing them past his lips. He groaned softly around the digits, sucking them completely clean. It wasn't enough, his greed getting the best of him as he leaned back in. You borderline yelped when he started sloppily lapping up the leftover arousal soaking your cunt, your eyes brimming with tears as his nose rutted against your clit.

"W-wait.." you begged softly, your legs twitching everytime he bumped into the sensitive spot. He pulled away when he was satisfied, shifting himself onto his feet and standing up. He leaned down to put his hands on the arms of your chair, caging you in with a sweet, yet heated gaze. You couldn't help but shudder when he got a bit closer, your body buzzing as you caught your breath. He tilted his head, closing the space between you and pressing his lips to yours. You involuntarily moaned against him, hands grabbing at his shirt and tugging him closer. Your eyes blinked shut when you tasted yourself on him, cheeks burning with the realization.

Dalton was starting to get needy himself, kissing you with affectionate, hungry lips. You made a surprised little noise when he slipped his tongue into your mouth, the kind of noise that made him yearn for you like no other. He felt a little guilty, especially since he'd promised you to be quick, but god, he couldn't stop thinking about how good you felt around him, how perfectly he filled you.. it was driving him insane.

"I wanna feel you," he practically moaned against your lips, his voice pleading and breathless. The blunt words made you wet all over again, a borderline inaudible sound leaving you as you forced yourself to shake your head. He broke the kiss, trailing smaller ones to your jaw. One of his hands moved to the side of your neck, holding you still so he could start nipping at the soft skin. Your pulse thrummed against his palm quickly, which he allowed to flatter him just a little.

"C'mon, she won't come home," he murmured, as if he could read your mind and tell exactly what was making you anxious. He wasn't actually sure when she'd be back.. but he didn't mention that part. He was about 70% sure he had enough time, and that was good enough for him. He waited while you pondered it, his lips pressing into the space where your jaw met your neck. You groaned, mentally cursing yourself before lacing your fingers back into his hair. He hummed at his little victory, hands beginning to wander your figure.

You knew you shouldn't, it was unfair to your roommate.. and the neighboring dorms that could probably hear you if they listened hard enough. You just couldn't help yourself, you rarely could around him. Your hands were shaking slightly in his hair when he lifted you off the now wet chair, crossing the small room to get back to your bed. He pushed his sketchbook off the comforter and onto the floor, setting you down on the mattress before standing. You felt exposed, reaching down and trying to shove your shirt over your bare bottom half while he stood over you.

The way he chuckled had your arousal leaking onto the bed beneath you, his hands moving to start undoing his belt. He watched you, taking his sweet time, tilting his head just a bit when you whined beneath him. "Don't be embarrassed, I've seen it all before," he reminded you, as if you had somehow forgotten how he was practically making out with your pussy not 5 minutes earlier. Your face got hot all over again, thighs clenching together at the sound of his voice. You always got so desperate after your first release, craving more of that syrupy sweet pleasure that only he could provide.

The way he was affecting you didn't go unnoticed by him, his teeth flashing in a grin as he tugged the belt from the waistband of his jeans. He began undoing the button and zip with one hand, the other gesturing toward your half naked body. "You're gonna keep that on for me, hm?" he mumbled, his eyes swimming with lust as they raked over every inch of your form. The shirt was his, otherwise it would have been on the floor in seconds. His favorite thing in the world was fucking you while you wore his clothes, and he did it every chance he got (which was a lot, since you were almost always in one of his shirts or jackets).

You nodded shyly in response to his question, not trusting your voice. You bit down on your tongue when he started tugging his jeans down, eyes greedily lingering on the front of his black boxers. He felt his cheeks heat up just a little at your attention, tilting his head down and pretending to mess with the hem so you wouldn't see his reddened cheeks. You watched his hands carefully, rubbing your thighs together when he continued to take his time.

"Please, I need you so bad," you whimpered, catching his attention. You didn't usually say stuff like that, claiming it sounded silly coming from you. The simple sentence sent a throb through his already aching abdomen, his hands pushing down the fabric without any more hesitation. You could have cum just from the sight, abdomen tensing with need. "Yeah? Need me to make you feel good?" he cooed, cocky now that he'd gotten the reaction out of you. He didn't wait for your answer, climbing over you and putting his big hands on your thighs. He tugged you closer, pushing your legs open with his eyes pinned down. He could have wept at the sight of you all wet for him again, making a small mess on your sheets and covering your inner thighs with the shiny, translucent slick.

"You're so pretty," he half-moaned, one of his hands leaving your thighs. The compliment had you reaching up, hands roaming his chest needily. He gave no warning before he dragged his index up your slit, collecting some of the liquid desire on his fingertip and slipping it past his lips. Your whole body warmed at the sight, butterflies fluttering around in your stomach. You watched him lean down more, positioning himself between your legs and lining his swollen, eager tip up with your dripping hole. His eyes flickered up to yours when you gasped quietly, the hand on your thigh slipping up to grasp your hip soothingly.

"You ready?" he asked, his tip already wet from nuzzling into your folds. You whispered a deprived, desperate 'yes,' so clearly craving him. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, trying to somewhat distract you with the gesture while he started to push himself inside your tight, wet heat. You both gasped in unison, yours shakier than his due to the stinging stretch between your legs. He kissed all over your face, mumbling quiet apologies as you winced and huffed with every inch he gave you. No matter how many times you did this, he always had to start slow with you. The initial stretch was always the hardest part, but after that, it was typically smooth sailing.

By the time he had bottomed out, you were already pretty much used to it, lips catching his as soon as you were given the chance. You whimpered when he started pulling back again, the drag of him along your walls stirring up pleasure in your abdomen. You could hear him groan into your mouth, hand slipping under your shirt as he moved. He palmed at your right tit, squeezing the soft mound of flesh gently. His slightly rough hands were warm and comforting, touching you just right as his hips started moving at a steady, slow pace.

The moan you produced was heavenly, louder than before as pleasure trickled across your body. Dalton found himself disappointed that he didn't get to truly appreciate the sounds you were making, breaking the sloppy kiss so he could hear you properly. His pace was gradually increasing, his own quiet moans giving you all sorts of funny feelings in your belly. He leaned up a little more so he could look down at what he was doing, groaning at the sight. You peeked down, too, biting your lower lip when you realized how wet you were getting him. His dick was partially covered in a creamy white, making a wet, almost squelching sound with every thrust. You released an embarrassed whine, the lewd sounds making you feel ten times more exposed.

Dalton didn't share your feelings of embarrassment at all. In fact, he was going fucking nuts about the fact that he could literally hear how soaked he made you. His thrusts started to get harder, the sound of skin on skin mixing in with your whiny moans as he continued watching himself fuck you. The way his big cock disappeared, reappeared, disappeared, reappeared over and over was fucking hypnotizing. The only thing that could tear his gaze away was the sound of you gasping, hands dropping down to grip the sheets as your back arched up a bit.

"Oh, right there," you pleaded, eyes fluttering shut as your head fell back into the pillows. Dalton quickly realized what he was doing to you, a proud little smile on his face as he chuckled breathily. "Mmh, feels good, huh?" he cooed, knowing you couldn't answer as his hips pushed against you to deliver a particularly hard thrust. Your legs started to tremble, a loud, desperate cry escaping your lungs when he started intentionally pushing against that perfect spot over and over. Your toes curled, legs wrapping loosely around his waist as you tried to get him closer, deeper. Something must of been in the air today, because you couldn't remember the last time you were this frantic for him.

You were wrapped around him just right, snug and warm and wet. He felt his tip kiss your cervix, shushing you softly when you whimpered and squirmed under him, not knowing what to do with yourself. His libidinous sounds encouraged you, the noise coaxing you closer and closer to your second release. One of your hands moved from the sheets, trying to pry his from your hip so you could interlock your fingers. He noticed right away, releasing his bruising grip and taking your hand, pushing it against the bed as he fucked you harder.

"Dalton, 'm gonna cum," you managed to warn softly, a choked whine following quickly after. He hummed, an adoring smile pulling at his lips as he gazed at you. He didn't take his eyes off you once, just rubbing an encouraging thumb across the back of the hand he held. "That's it, cum on my dick," he purred, the filthy words catching you off guard. Your legs tightened around his waist when you felt it all wash over you, shaking and crying as he fucked you through it. You heard a raspy 'fuck' over the roaring in your ears, a whimper sneaking it's way into your boyfriend's moans as he felt his own orgasm snap. He pushed himself as deep as he could manage, head falling on your shoulder as he filled you up with warm, thick cum. It was mind numbing, your pussy still twitching and fluttering around him as his thrusts continued. You were overstimulated, but you wanted to let him ride it out.

"Atta girl," he mumbled, his thrusts slowing to a stop as he panted heavily. He pressed a sweet, gentle kiss to your shoulder before he pulled back, blue eyes meeting yours. His heart swelled when you gave him those loving, hooded eyes, unable to stop himself from smiling subtly. His hair stuck to his forehead, face flushed and chest heaving with his deep breaths. You couldn't help but stare, the hand that wasn't in his shakily reaching for his face. You brushed the damp hair from his face as best as you could, tired and lovesick in your peaceful afterglow. He pushed his cheek into your palm, sighing contently through his breaths.

After a few moments of the two of you catching your breath, he leaned down, pressing his lips to yours once more. This kiss was different than the other ones, gentle and caring instead of sloppy and desperate. Taking his opportunity, he slipped himself out of you, the sudden emptiness eliciting a gentle moan from you. He whined dramatically when you broke the kiss, your teeth flashing as you grinned, amused. You looked over his shoulder at your alarm while he started kissing your neck, craving aftercare just as much as you were. Sadly, it was already 9, and your roommate rarely stayed out very long after that. You mentally cursed your predicament, giving Dalton apologetic eyes. "She's probably on her way now," you mumbled, and he knew exactly what you were talking about. He groaned against your neck, clearly disappointed, but still pulled away. He thought about it for a second, before scoffing when he realized how obvious the solution was.

"Oh wait- duh, I live here too. We can walk over to my dorm," he recalled, making you laugh; a genuine, almost musical sound that had Dalton folding for you all over again. He pressed one more kiss to your forehead before gently pulling your legs off his waist and standing. "What about Chris?" you asked, wincing softly as you sat up. The space between your legs ached, and when you moved, you could feel cum start to leak out of you. It made you blush, remembering just how exposed you were. You watched Dalton pull on his boxers as he shrugged. "She's with a friend tonight," he responded, like it was common knowledge.

"You're telling me I risked my roommate getting an eyeful of us.. you know, when we could have been in your empty, risk-free dorm?" you gasped, mocking betrayal. He laughed at that, throaty and low as he lifted his hands in defeat. He grinned sheepishly, walking over to the desk chair where this whole situation began. "Yeah, maybe," he admitted, earning a playful eye roll from you (you would never admit it, but part of you loved the risk). He picked up your shorts and underwear, walking over and offering them to you.

"Here, we'll get you all cleaned up when we get there. I have some clean clothes you can wear," he promised, pressing a sweet kiss to your temple before turning to hunt down the rest of his clothes..

**

A/N: this is.. something. i never know how to end fics, that's why its always so abrupt 😭. anyways, i finally finished this one! i wanna write another one with a gn!reader :). work and classes have kept me so busy, but i'm gonna try to post a bit more frequently 🫶 hope you enjoyed <3! (not proofread yet)

[starcrossedxwriter]

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!

[kaziwi]

aghhh hello!!!! can i have zoro with 15🤭? take your time and take breaks <3

HELLOOOOO i’m sorry this event is taking so long lol school has been so rough but I LOVE UR WRITING and I hope u enjoy!

"Just play along"

Character(s): Zoro

WC: 416

The music in the bar was louder than your ears could handle but at this point you didn’t care.

You wanted to go back to the Sunny as soon as possible.

Everyone wanted to go out to eat and drink but you were just not in the mood. You sat at the bar slowly sipping your drink while watching Usopp and Franky dance. You'd normally be dancing with them, but you just weren’t feeling it today. Maybe it was the fact that it was Valentine’s day and EVERYONE in the bar seemed to have a date…except you.

You were wallowing in your own self pity till two big tan hands were placed on your shoulders.

“Come with me,” a deep, husky, slightly slurred voice whispered in your ear. Before you could protest the voice in question, who you assumed to be Zoro, lifted you off your seat and slung you over his shoulder.

You tried to get him to put you down and kept asking where you were going, but he only grunted in reply.

He dragged you across the bar and plopped you in front of a few guys. You assumed they worked at the bar since they all were wearing similar uniforms.

“Here they are, my date for the night.”

HIS WHATTTT WHAT DID HE SAY HE SAID YOU WERE HIS WHAT HELLOOOOOOO

You, understandably, looked SHOCKED at his statement which got some questioning looks from the workers.

“You gotta prove it,” one of the workers said.

“What??? Why do I gotta do that?” Zoro questioned angrily.

“Come on if you guys are really a couple it shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Okay what is going on??” You asked, confused on WHY ZORO OF ALL PEOPLE is declaring that you are a couple.

Zoro got close to your ear and whispered. “Just play along,” before pulling you into the deepest sloppiest most messy kiss of your life. He tasted like sake and salt, but you didn’t really notice because you were busy freaking out that ZORO WAS KISSING YOU????

“Fine fine here you go enjoy,” the workers handed Zoro a big jug of sake and walked away.

Zoro had a big triumphant grin on his face while you were frozen in shock.

When you finally broke out of your shocked form you freaked out.

“WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT???”

“They said that couples get a free jug of sake as a Valentine’s day special.”

“SO YOU KISSED ME????”

“I HAD TO PROVE IT SOMEHOW!!”

~~~

The night ended with you and Zoro sharing the sake you earned and you feeling a little happy that of all the people in the bar, he picked you to be his fake date.