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xxsabitoxx · 3 months

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Steam Room

Megumi x Female Reader

Warnings: Megumi and reader are around 22-24 in this, public sex, submissive megumi, edging megumi, switch megumi, dominant reader, submissive reader, it’s a whirlwind okay. Blowjobs, handjobs, come eating, rough sex, restraining, humiliation, creampies, possibility of getting walked in on, sweat… yeah

A/N: third scheduled post! Again, you may have already seen this on my ao3 cause I posted it a few weeks back. Still, enjoy!

Word count: 3.5k

The room was thick with steam, your bodies sticky from the sweat clinging to them. “Shit…oh fuck please…” choked and embarrassed, Megumi’s face was flushed red from more than just the sauna. Your head was bobbing steadily along the length of his aching cock, violently twitching in the warm cavern of your mouth every time your tongue passed over the head. Despite the heat of the room, your mouth was somehow hotter.

“Don’t stop, please don’t stop.”

Megumi’s voice was slightly higher in pitch, whiny even, as your tongue slid along the underside of his cock. He was growing desperate at this point, you had led him to the brink of coming three times now, cruelly stopping just before he reached the end. You felt your lips twitching with the urge to smirk, unable to as your head continued to move up and down around him. “S-seriously don’t fucking sto-oh.” You pulled away again, wiping your mouth with a sadistic grin.

Megumi looked pissed, brows creased and lips wobbling as his cock twitched, precum weeping from his tip at yet another failed orgasm. “Stop fucking doing that.” He sounded like he was on the verge of tears. For a moment you actually felt pity, meeting his watery gaze through the steam of the sauna room. “You’ve been such a naughty boy, Megumi.” He looked down at you with a pout on his face, clearly confused and disgruntled. “You don’t even know what you did?”

“What I did–” Megumi rasped out, plump lips hanging open as he stared at you with furrowed brows. “Oh…” It came back to him then, fond memories of him doing the exact same thing to you no less than two days prior. “T-this is my payback for…” he gasped as your fist tightened around his shaft, tugging hard and slow. “Payback for tying me to our bed and edging me for two fucking hours.” Megumi hissed as you tugged particularly rough, pleasure shooting all the way up his spine as your pretty hand toyed with his already too sensitive cock.

“L-Listen I-I…oh fuck…oh…” His head fell back, skin glistening with sweat as his hips nearly jerked off the bench. You watched, fully enthralled by the sight of his throat bobbing and jaw clenching as he tried not to make a complete fool of himself. “Listen to what, Megumi?” again, just as quickly as you started, you stopped. Megumi’s tip was turning an angry shade of pink, irritated from the contant relief being tugged away from him when he least expected it.

“Fuck please… your mouth…” He was whining again, every ounce of respect he had for himself flying out the window at the sight of your swollen lips just inches from his aching cock. Those same lips curled into a cruel smirk, eyes trialing over the dips and plains of the muscles that made up Megumi. “It would be so awkward if someone walked in on us right now, don’t you think? A guy and a girl in the men’s sauna, completely naked, the guy whimpering pathetically while his girlfriend edges him over and over… really awkward, don’t you think Megumi?”

You reached down to cup his balls, mouth watering at the sight of the precum dripping steadily from his tip. You wanted him in your mouth, down your throat, crying and begging you to let him cum. But you loved to taunt him even more, not a single thing was tying Megumi down to the sauna’s bench… but your words had him glued into his space. “It would be so easy for you to take over, Megumi. Pull me up by my hair and throw me on the bench, fuck me stupid until you’ve got what you wanted and then leave me hanging… yet you sit here for me, obedient.”

He only whimpered, pretty lips wobbling as your other hand rested at the base of his shaft. His whole body was flushing a shade of pink at this point, more so from you than the sauna. “Do you want my mouth, Megumi?” you were going to give it to him either way, an absolute sucker even when you were cruel. “Yes… please I want your mouth so bad.” He needed to feel it, your wet tongue lathering his cock in the way that made his fucking toes curl. You knew just how to make him putty in your hands, how to fuck him stupid with out having to do anything at all.

“Then beg for it, better than that.” You smiled up at him, batting your lashes innocently while he squeezed his eyes shut. You would be the death of him, he was absolutely sure of it. “Please… fuck please let me come… mommy please.” It slipped out so naturally you wouldn’t have thought anything of it until Megumi himself froze. Your lips fell open, eyes locking with his as he seemed to turn the deepest shade of red possible. “Mommy, huh? Didn’t think you were into that kinda thing, Megumi…” Your hand had begun to massage the flesh of his balls again, your free hand coming up to wrap around the base of his shaft as you observed him.

“Does my baby boy want mommy to suck his cock?” You purred, eyes narrowing as you gauge his reaction. He twitched, nearly violently, as his lips quivered. “T-this is so embarrassing.” he whined, nodding his head to answer your question. You clicked your tongue “that’s not how mommy likes her answers, use your words like a big boy, Meg.” You tightened your grasp around his base, causing him to jerk forward from the sudden pressure. Hesitantly with a weak voice “Mommy please suck my cock… I want to cum so bad… Mommy please…”

Shiny tears were pricking his eyes, threatening to slide down his reddened cheeks. That was enough for you, your head moving forward and dropping down to encompass him. Megumi’s head fell back, a loud guttural moan leaving his lips as you swallowed around him. Your tongue slid along the underside of his cock, tracing the veins that ran along it as you bobbed your head. You wouldn’t torture him any further, allowing him to cum when he was ready. Based on the way he was gripping the edge of the sauna’s bench, he would fall apart within seconds.

“Gonna… oh fuck m’gonna… mommy please…” he babbled, nearly incoherent as you focused your attention on his leaking tip. His salty precum coated your tongue, increasing in volume with every pass of your fist over his spit-covered shaft. Finally, his hand found its way to your head, gripping your hair so harshly you couldn’t help but whine around him. “Gonna… oh shit… fuck…” a string of profanities left his lips, your name falling in between each one as he came in your mouth. You worked Megumi through it, greedily swallowing his release until you felt him relax.

You pulled off of him as he began to soften, moving to stand and stretch your aching legs. “Who would have thought that Megumi Fushiguro has a mommy kink.” You grinned down at his tired face, voice slightly hoarse from everything you just did. It took you a second too long to process the tired expression morph into annoyance. Even after blowing his load, even though you had his legs feeling like jelly, Megumi managed to move faster than you could think at that moment. “H-hey!” You squeaked, flinching as your back met the hard wooden bench of the sauna.

“You’re so fucking dead, pulling that shit out of me.” Megumi was seething with embarrassment, unable to handle the fact that he had called you mommy willingly. “Oh come off it, Meg. You loved every second of it.” You could feel him twitching back to life, settling his body weight on top of your own. “Doesn’t fucking matter, it’s still embarrassing” His cheeks were permanently stuck on a shade of rosy pink, his hands finding your wrists and pinning them above your head. “You gotta learn some manners, it’s not nice to put people in that kind of vulnerable position.”

Megumi’s voice had dropped into something more sultry, leaving you to feel helpless as he slotted his hips against yours. “Gonna have to fuck some sense into you, mommy.” It was full of sarcasm but you couldn’t deny the way it made your cunt clench around nothing. “Do it, fuck some manners into me, Megumi…” You were panting, the heat of the sauna paired with Megumi’s weight on top of you made you realize how sticky your skin felt. Megumi’s cock was hard again, leaking precum and twitching with need to be inside of you.

“So filthy, you’d probably love it if someone walked in on us right now. Wouldn’t you, mommy?” You nodded, lips parted as you panted. “Yes… fuck yes I would… it would be so humiliating… we’d get kicked out for sure…” you whined, hips jutting upwards to grind against him. That realization had Megumi hesitating a little less, the urge to tease you now replaced with the worry of getting caught. Not that it would be the first time you two had been walked in on… but getting caught in the sauna room would mean removal… he couldn’t bear the thought.

Megumi’s brows furrowed, head moving to look down at your sweaty bodies. “Be good and keep quiet, Mommy. We really don’t want to get kicked out before I can fuck some sense into you.” Your lips trembled before pressing tightly together, nodding obediently as Megumi reached down to guide his tip between your folds. He dragged it slowly, still sticky from his cum and your saliva… and now your own arousal. “Relax.” Was all Megumi said before pushing into you, shivering despite the heat because of the way you inhaled so sharply. The grip he had on your wrists with just one hand kept you from jerking too far from him.

You were soaked, but Megumi was far too big to go in with no prep. You couldn’t help the whine that left you, your ankles locking behind the small of his back to keep him in place despite the ache spreading all the way down to your thighs. He was heavy, splitting you open inch by inch as he engulfed himself in your heat. “M-megumi…” Your hips shifted, trying to alleviate some of the pressure but it only caused him to brush that one particular spot. You swore you saw stars for a moment, a loud cry leaving your lips only to be silenced by Megumi’s free hand slapping over your mouth. “What did I say about being quiet, hmm?”

You didn’t respond, not even a muffled attempt behind his palm. Megumi didn’t move his hand away, glaring down at you “You love to think you can put me in my place, don’t you?” Megumi bottomed out as he spoke, the bulbous head of his cock pressing snuggly to your cervix just because he knew how much it made you squirm. “You’re so cute when you’re naive.” He added softly, carefully moving his hand away from your mouth so he could find better grounding. “This is your last warning, make any noise above a whisper and I’m pulling out.” You nodded, jaw clenched as you tried to remain quiet. You knew Megumi never made empty promises.

Megumi’s head fell forward, catching you off guard as he smashed his lips to yours. Your lips parted shakily, allowing his tongue entrance as the hand he had been using to cover your mouth snaked down to hold your thigh. Megumi’s hips drew back until he was half way out of you, pushing forward again with the same haphazard intent. His only goal was to fuck you until your hips were brusied and he’d likely need to help you walk out of this sauna. You moaned into his mouth, fingers twitching for something to grasp but his grip on your wrists was as strong as iron, you couldn’t move if you wanted to. Every pass of his cock through your velvety walls had you seeing stars, each graze of that one particular spot had your hips jerking into him.

Megumi pulled away, eyes lidded as saliva kept your tongues connected. He was panting, face still stuck in that permanent flush as his hips connected with yours over and over. Sweat was making his skin shine, his usually unruly hair was starting to flatten from the humidity in the room. You had to admit, he never looked more beautiful than he did at that very moment. “Y-You’re so pretty… Megumi!” Your head tilted back, a silent cry leaving your lips as your orgasm brewed deep in your gut. Even with your clit neglected, you swore Megumi would make you cum untouched in that sense. “You’re…fuck you’re gonna cum, aren’t you?”

You nodded, panting heavily but managing to keep yourself quiet for him. “I can feel it… your cunt is clenching so–ha–so fucking tight… so greedy.” Megumi’s jaw was clenching, trying to silence his own noises as if you hadn’t had him on the verge of tears only a few minutes prior. Megumi’s head dipped lower again, lips pressing to your ear as he spoke “Gonna cum without me playing with your clit?” it was nearly a growl, making you whine breathlessly as you uttered out a small “yes.” Megumi huffed out a laugh, rolling his hips into you slowly. He wouldn’t be that cruel to you, especially knowing how hard you came every time he toyed with your cunt.

The deliberate roll of his hips pressed his pubic bone snuggling to your cunt, rubbing along your clit with each draw back and forth. “O-oh shit… Megumi…. Megumi please…” You wailed softly, voice hoarse and full of need as you strained to keep your cries on the quieter side. “Please what? What does mommy need so badly?” He was hitting deep, kissing your cervix before grinding his hips hard. “To cum… I need to cum, Megumi. Please… oh fuck please let me…” You begged, vision blurring as tears welled in your eyes. It felt like pressure, the kind that made your toes curl but kept your orgasm just out of your reach. Your cunt was aching, pulsing around every inch of his cock that was stuffed inside of you.

“Yeah? You wanna cum? Earn it.” You froze, gasping loudly as Megumi halted all movements. The tingling pressure of your impending orgasm was fizzling away into nothing. Still, you had never felt as full as you did right now. “E-earn it?” you questioned, unintentionally pulling against the restraint that was Megumi’s grasp on your wrists. “Earn it, apologize for humiliating me.” He wasn’t letting it go, that realization made your cunt clench tightly, suctioning to him and pulling a wanton moan from his lips. “M-megumi.” You didn’t want to apologize, your pride wouldn’t allow it. But still… if you wanted to cum. “Say it, Mommy. Apologize for edging me… for making me call you mommy…” Your nose scrunched, “I didn’t make you… you said it your–oh!”

Megumi pushed into you more, not going anywhere since there was nowhere to go but it only made the pressure more intense. “I don’t give a fuck. Apologize or you’re getting nothing.” But even then, you knew Megumi wouldn't be able to pull out and leave you hanging. Still, you were getting impatient, and likely dehydrated with all the sweating you were both doing. The physical activity didn’t help of course. “F-fine… fuck I’m sorry Megumi… I didn’t mean to suck you off so good that you had to call me mommy.” Your tone was full of sarcasm, a devious grin pulling at your lips as Megumi’s cold stare turned into one of shock. “Un-fucking-real.”

You yelped loudly as Megumi drew his hips back completely, leaving you empty as he pushed himself up and off of your body. “Megumi–” you squeaked, thinking you had actually offended him until he was yanking you up with him. “Looks like I forgot my reason for doing this in the first place…” You could only let out a noise of confusion as Megumi’s hands were on your wrists again, pulling them behind your back as he spun you around. You yelped as he pushed you forward, thanks to the sauna set up your knees were digging into the bench you had been sitting on while the top half of you was pressed to the platform of the next.

“You’ve got to watch that filthy mouth of yours.” A hard slap rang through the small space, accompanied by your quiet cry and pain blooming on your ass cheek. Megumi didn’t hesitate, thrusting back into you so quickly it nearly hurt. With your arms restrained, you could do nothing to aid yourself in this new position, having to let Megumi have his way. “Apologize.” Megumi barked, hip snapping into you at a brutal pace, you couldn’t even think straight anymore. Your brain felt like it was melting into mush as Megumi brutally fucked into you. “I’m not hearing–fuck– an apology…” you whimpered in response, trying to pull yourself together to say something–anything– that would satisfy Megumi’s wishes.

“C’mon you can’t be that far gone… or maybe I’m really just that good and fucking you stupid.” he spat, aching to slap your ass again as it jiggled with each snap of his hips. “M-megumi!” you blubbered, tears leaking down your face as every snap of his hips hit that one particular spot. You were going to pass out at this rate, a mix of the steam, your activity, and now your tears were going to do you in before you could even finish. “I’m s-sorry, Megumi.” you wailed, fat globs of tears soiling your pretty face as your cunt sputtered around his cock. “I’m so sorry f-for embarrassing–” you hiccuped, sniffling harshly as you tried to continue.

But that was more than enough for Megumi, his hand sneaking around your front and dipping between your thighs to start rubbing circles on your clit. “Shh… that’s it…” he murmured as you dissolved into tears, he leaned forward to place kisses along your sweat spine as he worked on bringing you over the edge. As much as Megumi liked to be cruel to you, the tears always did him in. He was a sucker for you, especially when you cried too prettily for him. “Gonna make you cum, pretty girl.” he sighed, hips working overtime as he tried to stave off his second orgasm “Your apology is accepted, baby. You’re doing so good.” he praised as you hiccuped.

You whispered his name over and over, his fingers working wonders on your clit as your orgasm quickly built again. “Cum for me, pretty girl. Ruin me.” his voice was low, full of need, making you clench as your orgasm grew nearer. You’d cum any second now, making a mess of yourself, Megumi, and the poor sauna bench below you. It only took a few more snaps of his hips and you were coming hard. A strangled cry of his name left your lips, just loud enough to make Megumi work faster in fear of someone coming to check on the two of you. “Shit… fuck…” more profanties left Megumi’s lips as your cunt covered him in your release, creating a ring around the base of his dick and sending him over the edge. Megumi spilled into you, whining your name just as loud.

Megumi let go of your wrists once he could breathe again, pulling out of you slowly and huffing out a laugh when only a little bit of his cum leaked out. “You okay?” he sat down, carefully grabbing your waist and pulling you down to his level. Sleepily you nodded, pressing your head to his sweaty shoulder. “Thirsty… we gotta get out of here.” You motioned to the towels you had come in wearing, feeling rather than hearing Megumi laugh in response. “I don’t think we raised any suspicions… but they’ll certainly be worried about how long we’ve been in here.” You nodded, trying to will yourself into a sitting position so you could get yourself covered and out of the damned sauna. All you wanted now was water, a bath, and your shared bed.

“C’mon, Meg. Mommy is tired.” You smirked at him as you straightened, watching his shoulders sag as he looked at you. “Was that apology fake?” He chided, getting up to grab his towel as well. “Course it wasn’t… you’re just fun to tease… Daddy.” you glanced over your shoulder at him, mischief glittering in your tired eyes. For the first time that night, Megumi kind of understood why the whole “mommy” thing was appealing to you. “You’re too much.” he sighed, returning your smile as he wrapped the towel around his waist. “You know you love it.” You offered in return, securing the towel in place as you turned to face him. “Yeah… I do.”

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ilyhaitanii · 29 days

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save a horse, ride a cowboy ! ft. boothill

nsfw. you are tasked with the job of investigating a man named boothill who has attracted the attention of the ipc, little did you know, you'd fall for his charms and be caught under his teeth just like those bullets he shot at you a few moments ago

a/n: CLANK CLANK CLANK CLANK YEOOOOOCH!!!!!!!!!!!! i need him so bad it's actually driving me insane. he's all ive been to think about for the past few days

there's no way this is happening right now. you dash down the constracution zone of the city, trying to evade your target. he shoots one bullet at you, barely missing your head. you yelp, your lungs begging for air.

you turn the corner, begging and praying you've finally lost the man. just as you press your back to a wall, an arm slams down beside you

"found ya," he snickers. caught red handed, boothill corners you into an alleyway. he towers over you, the sound of his mechanic limbs slightly squeak, causing you to flinch. his hat covers his eyes, but his sly smirk perfectly teases those razor-sharp teeth of his.

"what do we have here?" boothill leans down, his arms caging you into the corner. under him, you feel so small. his large chest plate covering your entire field of vision. he's so close to you that he can practically feel the anxiety vibrating off your body.

"please don't hurt me! i'm sorry, sir please!!" there's saliva pooling under your tongue as you try your hardest to stammer out an excuse. you're not even an ipc executive-- your just some lowlife who is in debt to them.

"wanna tell me why you're following me all the way out here, dollface? saw you at the entrance of the hotel." his metal thumb making contact with your bitten lower lip. the cold has you trembling under him, fearful for your life. "y'er not that good at tailing," the galaxy ranger chuckles.

"i'm not tailing you, sir. please, i'm sorry," your voice is so low, so timid. you were such a curious little thing when you were tailing him. the contrast has boothill chuckling. he hums, rubbing his thumb across your soft lips.

"we both know that's not the truth, so let's try that again. why's a pretty gem like you tailing a man like me?" his lips curl into a sadistic smile. a shiver crawls up your spine at his expression. there truly is no way of getting out of this, is there?

"i was sent by the ipc...please don't hurt me!" you try your best to squirm in his hold, but boothill's leg between yours keeps your pelvis in place. he lets out a whistle,

"is that so? how sad. what're you look to find?" his thumb does an especially rough drag on your lip, before gently soothing the skin. you wince, eyes screwed shut.

"they want to know why you're here, sir. i'm just an informant, please?" he laughs again before pulling away from you. boothill's fingers are quick to wrap around your wrist as he tugs you along with him.

"mm...well in that case, i'll send you back to the ipc with a little message. how does that sound?" he looks over his shoulder at you, pitying your pathetic expression.

you dumbly nod as the anxiety in your stomach has reached an all time high, sensing this, boothill speaks,

"don't worry, i don't hurt pretty things like you. it'll be quick, yeah?"

he's rough, almost addicting. the pleasure you're receiving from boothill is almost mind numbing. your thighs are thrown around his hips while his cold hands are digging into your hips. he raises your body up his cock before slamming you back down onto him. your jaw is slacked, voice unable to let out a scream.

"poor thing~" he coos, watching the way your brows furrow in ecstasy. he can feel your hips twitching and cunt clenching around him. his head is laid back on the bed with a hand presses against your lower back.

"atta girl, you got it. come on, baby." boothill finds your struggle amusing. you can barely register his voice, not when his thumb is vibrating against your clit and your nipples are so stiff. he leans himself up a bit, swirling the tip of his tongue against your stiffed peaks.

you mangle out a squeal, fingers scratching against boothill armored shoulders. with your head thrown back, you manage to circle your hips around his cock as he bounces you up and down. a series of curses fall from your mouth when boothill bites down on your nipple. the pain mixed with so many different types of stimulation creates pools of tears in your eyes.

"let go, sweetheart." boothill laughs with his pink tongue peaking out from his lips. the knot in your stomach is so overwhelming and your vision is so blurred. the dizzying feeling finally reaches it climax as you clench around boothill for the umpteenth time and gush around his cock. you cum so hard, your body physically jerks, falling flat against him.

as you come down from your high, boothill smoothes his hand over your hair, pressing a kiss to your temple.

"good girl~ make sure to tell your folks about this, alright? and tell 'em i'll be coming to find 'em too," you don't exactly listen to his words, but when you're sipping on a bottle of soda while walking back to your hotel room, you think that boothill may not have been joking...

fuck, there goes your commission check.

#boothill x reader #boothill x you #hsr smut #hsr x reader #boothill smut #boothill honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #i need this man so bad #LEMME HIT BOOTHILL PLS....

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bigfatbimbo · 1 month

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I have a post sex angst idea for you (with Vox ofc !)

Imagine after you’ve been particularly cruel to Vox you get up to get water or something but he stays right where he is, still crying.

You end up having to sit back down, reassuring him that you weren’t being serious and that you do love him.

Giving him all the praise and soft kisses he could ask for.

This might be stupid but due to his huge ego he probably would get a little touchy at being degraded after a while.

thanks for listening to my insane ramblings 🙏😭🫶

warnings —mentions of smut, dom reader implied, hurt/comfort, light angst, kinda just fluffy though

a/n — I’m loosing touch with these characters. I have like one fic left in me, at best.

summary — After being a little too mean to Vox after sex, and making him cry, you have to give him loads of comfort.

Usually, you waited a little longer before getting up and leaving him on the bed. But, tonight specifically, he looked so genuinely worn out you figured it was common curtsy to offer him a glass of water. Especially after how you treated him.

He’d look so pretty, tears still leaking out of his face as he sniffled and fought to calm down from his euphoric headspace. When you kissed him on the head and told him you’d be back, he didn’t really pay attention.

Instead, he lied there halfheartedly and thought about what you’d said just moments before. You were especially mean tonight. So mean thats he’d forgotten what the initial punishment was for in the first place. But now that the ecstasy wore off, he’d was simply left with all of your cruel words flooding through his brain.

It wasn’t fair, he thought. You’d been so mean, and you’d said so many untrue things! But despite Vox not fully believing your words, the idea that you believed them was far worse. The haunting thought that you hated him, that you pitied him and that’s why you’re still here. He couldn’t stand that.

Maybe it was the mildly incoherent mindset he currently had, or maybe he was overwhelmed, or, fuck, maybe he just missed your warmth. But, for whatever reason, more tears streamed down his screen as he sat there in defeat.

When you arrived back in the room, you simply stared at Vox for a moment, taking in the view. He was still crying. You get during sex, but this long after? Something was wrong.

“Sweetie, are you okay?” You ask gently, setting the water glass down and sitting on the bed, “Did I hurt you?”

It was true, you had been particularly rough with him, but he looked further hurt than a physical sense.

He shook his head, “You, uhm,” he struggled to keep his voice steady, “Called me pathetic. And useless. You don’t really mean—“

He cuts himself off by a loud buffer and then an even louder sob. You don’t respond at first, just quietly tutting and pulling him into your chest.

“My baby,” you coo sadly, rubbing your hands up his shoulders comfortingly as he buries his screen in the space under your neck and clings onto your side, “My sweet boy, of course not. I didn’t mean any of that. You’re amazing.”

He sobbed harder at that, the shock of praise getting to him obviously. You continued to rub his aching body softly, pressing down on his tense shoulders and scratching his back.

“You took it all so well, i’m so proud of you, Vox” You pressed your lips onto the top of his screen and he looked up at you, letting out a watery whimper.

“You said you hated me,” Vox’s eyes darted down and his mouth curled back to let out another chocked sob. “You sounded like you meant it. You don’t hate me, right? Not like—“

Not like everyone else, he meant to say. Instead, he cut himself off and glanced up at you awaiting your reassurance.

Your hands fell on either side of his screen and you pressed your lips against his. “I love you more than anything in the world.” You moved to kiss his cheek, and then his chin, and then his other cheek, purposely making the kisses as unbearably wet as possible.

He let out small giggles at the sensation, “Stop it, stop it!” He pulls his face away to hide it in your chest, his tears finally slowing down.

“Well, I mean it, sweetheart. I think you’re the prettiest, smartest, most amazing, beautiful, boy on the world. I love you,” You feel his screen heat up on your collarbone and you rub his back some more.

“Thank you,” Vox spoke uncharacteristically soft, probably embarrassed from his outburst now that his mindset was clearer.

“Of course, baby,” You said, noting to go easy on him the next time you fucked. Maybe you’d be more praising too. After all, it was true. You meant it.

a/n — I think this is officially one of my last posts in this fandom. Or at least full drabbles.

I know that i’m still going to do a power bottom Velvette fic, but after that, I think i might be done!

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel smut #dom reader #inbox open #hazbin hotel vox #vox x reader #hazbin hotel fluff #vox smut #vox x you #sub vox

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fettuccin-e · 7 months

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Angel Incarnate

Kinktober Day 7: Soft and Slow

Tags: Javier Peña x Reader, afab!fem!reader, unprotected piv, slight breeding kink, really really light angst, domesticity, javi is finally happy guys okay (w/c: 1K)

A/N: Alright so this is so fluffy it hardly even feels like a kinktober prompt but y'know what javi has his dick out so it counts okay. anyway i had a really fun time writing this because i love it when sad characters are happy it brings me insurmountable joy (For the month I've been using these prompts from flightlessangelwings!)

Everything around him has always been so violent. His world has always been bloody and bruised and chaotic, and Javier had always supposed that it was just meant to be that way.

He didn’t deserve anything better than the angry pain of Bogatá. He’d hurt too many people, ripped apart too many lives to be redeemed, to deserve any kind of sweetness. His life boiled down to blood and tears, the endless race against the narcos too much to take anything slow. The only sex he had was rough and violent, just like his life, just like his soul.

Getting back to Laredo, to his father’s ranch, had been a kind of culture shock that he didn’t think he could experience anymore. The lack of gunfire, the lack of violence, day in and day out, had him reeling.

He’d tried burying himself in the work, fixing up his childhood home and tending to the cattle and the horses, hardly venturing into town at all. The people who knew Javi, the young man who left Laredo with a bride at the altar for a life as an agent, did not need to know Javier, the broken, hollow, shell of a man. He didn’t need their pity, their looks of confusion mixed with sympathy.

He regrets those first few months now, the ones that he spent hiding from the rest of the world. After all, the first time he went out into town, went into the only little library for miles, he found you.

And you, God, you’re so different. So kind and patient, even when he’s rough with you, even when he tries to push you away. It’s a kind of slow, soft sweetness that sings through his bones, that makes him feel human again.

You’re slow with him, gentle in a way that he hasn’t been treated in years. He feels precious here, with you, between the soft sheets of your shared bed, as you roll your hips on top of him, taking him slow and so deep inside of you.

He wants to grip your hips so hard they bruise, roll you over and slam into you until you’re sobbing and writhing from the pleasure of it. He wants to press your face into the pillows and fuck you hard into the mattress.

But he holds back, just like you want him to. Let yourself just feel, Javi, you had told him one day, after he’d taken control from you, just like he wants to right now. We don’t have to rush.

So he doesn’t. He brushes his hands along your waist, relishing in your soft skin as you drop yourself down on his cock, over and over again. You gasp as he stretches you apart.

“That’s it, baby, so beautiful for me,” Javier murmurs. “That feel good, sweetheart?”

You nod, whining as he guides you down to grind deep into your g-spot. “It’s so- it’s so good, Javi. You feel so big like this.”

Javier groans as you clench around him, tight and wet and fucking perfect. The soft morning light filters through the curtains you put up last week, illuminating your skin and enshrining you like an angel. You are an angel, he thinks, as close to heaven as he’ll ever get.

He leans up, searching for a kiss that you gladly grant him. He loves kissing you, licking into your mouth and tasting you as you moan for him.

You curl your hands into his hair, grown longer with his time away from the DEA. The one time he’d asked you about cutting it, you’d protested so hard he’d laughed for thirty minutes straight. He’d started letting it grow after that.

You lean back up, undulating your hips in a way that has him groaning, pulling on your hips to help you along.

“You want to cum, Javi?” you murmur, pulling him in so fucking deep his eyes roll to the back of his head.

“Por favor, nena, si,” he gasps, and God, you’re the only one that can make him beg like this. To make him desperate like this.

“Come on, honey, fill me up,” you coo, and Javi is lost to it. His hips jerk up of their own accord, pumping into you involuntarily with his orgasm. He spills into you without the fear of knocking you up, knowing that there’s no violence, no uncertainty with you. A small, not-so-secret part of him actually hopes it’ll take.

You whine above him, pushing your hips down on him over and over, frantic for your climax. He reaches a hand between you both and rubs slow, hard circles into your clit, and fuck, the way you cum will always steal the breath from his lungs. Your eyes clench shut, your mouth exhaling a beautiful, melodic little moan as you rock yourself on his cock, working yourself through it.

“That’s it, beautiful, so fucking good to me, so pretty for me,” he husks, and you curl yourself over him, meeting his lips in a sticky-wet kiss that has you both desperate for more. He palms his hands over your back, pulling you down to rest on top of him as you both breathe through the aftershocks of your orgasms.

You both don’t move for a long time, content to bask in each other’s warmth as the morning sun rises, bringing another day to spend together. It’s a kind of peace, a kind of contentment, he’d thought was a pipe dream for so, so long.

“How did I ever find you?” He murmurs into the quiet of the room. You tilt your head up from where it rests on his chest to smile softly at him. He feels like he could drown in your gaze.

“I think we were always meant to find each other,” you whisper, and like always, he knows you’re right.

#oh sweet javi love of my life #let me fix you #and also fuck you #javier pena x you #javier pena x reader #javier peña x reader #javier pena smut #javi pena x reader #javi pena x you #narcos fanfiction #narcos smut

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ja3hwa · 6 months

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♡ 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟐𝟑: 𝐏𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞/𝐁𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 - 𝐂.𝐉𝐇 ♡

Godess Amongst Commoner

【Synopsis】 : Overhearing for so-called friends make fun of your "failures" in life made your loving mobboss boyfriend very unhappy. No one makes his Honey cry.

『Word count』 : 1.67k

-> Genre: Mafia Au. Suggestive. Sweet Love.

Paring: MobBoss!Jongho x Chubby!Reader

[Warnings] : Shitty Friends. Mention about putting on weight (which is normal). Mention of a standard. Dark thoughts. Reader hates herself. (I love you all so much.) Jongho wants to lowkey kill your friends. Pet names. Swearing. Crying. Kisses. Hickeys. Little bit of man handling. Fingering.

Thank you, @abby-grace, for requesting Jongho for this day. ♡♡♡

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It was supposed to be a calm day hanging out with your friends but it got turned on its head when you got the the place you were going to meet them and you overheard them talking about your ‘failure’ in life. God, it hurt hearing them explain it like that. It wasn’t like it was your fault that your life came to a crashing stop. It’s not like you asked to get a back injury and gain some weight over the healing time.

It crushed you, trying so hard to lose the weight was no easy task. It was like it stuck to you. You became so insecure about it and you thought your so-called friends were supportive and loved you no matter what but it turns out they now looked at you like an outsider. All because you were a few sizes bigger than them.

You felt the restaurant, not even taking the corner to where they were sat. Knowing that if you saw you they would stop you. They would have most likely say ‘oh why are you leaving babe, don’t go’ but in reality, you now know, it was just pity. That’s how they looked at you. Like a puppy, they had no choice but to look after.

You spent the next hour walking home instead of calling for a ride, punishing yourself in a way. When you saw the gate to your front lawn you sighed feeling relief. It wasn’t that the walking was hard or anything. But you wanted nothing more than to curl up in a ball on your soft bed. What you didn’t expect was for a motorbike parked discreetly in your driveway. ‘wonder who that could be’ you thought sarcastically.

Opening the door to your house you notice the front door was unlocked, along with a pair of nice dress shoes sitting on the shoe rack. You took your own shoes off, hissing at the pain of walking for so long on small platforms. “Jong?”

You called, voice echoing in the silent home. He didn’t normally show up unannounced let alone on his bike, given he worried so much about your safety. But when you entered the lounge room and spotted him lying on your soft sofa with one of your plushies tight in his grasp that you keep nearby so you could cuddle it while sitting on the couch alone. You had to smile at him. For a roughed-up mob boss, he sure looks like such an innocent baby right now.

“You better be laughing at yourself doll.” his deep grumble caught your laughter in your throat. He didn’t even open his eyes, just twitching slightly. He knew it was you the moment he heard the pitter-patter of your socked feet padding around the small home. He was, after all, in a line of work where he needed to be vigilant. “Why are you home anyway?”

You were hoping he wasn’t going to ask you that question 'cause he knew you were going out with your friends―that he frankly didn’t like―today. Sighing, you took a set on the lone loveseat against the other wall. you knew you would have to tell him cause if you didn’t he would just come up with his own answer. “I left 'cause I overheard….uh….” Fuck you didn’t even want to talk about what went down in fear that if you saw it aloud it would be real.

He noticed your shift in demeanour instantly, sitting up he shuffled along the couch until he was leaning against the arm. The plushie still nestled in his lap as his harsh grip squeezed its poor head. “What did they say?”

"Nothing important… it was um…” You began to panic, maybe lying would have been the better option now. Jongho goes up from the couch, moving to sit next to you, pulling your legs up to rest them over his lap. You felt a sudden feeling of disgust as he lifted your figure. How could someone like Jongho be in love with someone like you? He was toned, rugged. A handsome bachelor that could have women falling at his feet. But yet here he was. Staring at you with devotion and full of love. You were the only one in his heart… why?

“I swear if you don’t tell me right now.” He sounded threatening but in truth, you know he wouldn’t do anything to hurt you or others, without knowing you were completely okay with it. You sucked in a sharp breath, feeling a tear fall down your hot cheek. You didn’t even know when you started crying but it was like it was out of your control. You were useless, worthless, a failure and everyone's eyes. So why not he as well? Why didn’t he not leave for someone else when he clearly deserved better?

He rushed to you without a second thought, holding you close as he hushed you softly. His hand raked through your hair, soothing you while his other hand found your thigh making shapes in your plump flesh. You were so perfect to him and seeing you cry broke his heart and when you finally were able to tell him exactly what your so-called friends had said, he lost it. Sitting up he cupped your face slowly wiping your tears away as he spoke tenderly. “Honey, you are perfect no matter what anyone says. Including me. Your own opinion about yourself is all that truly matters. You are such a powerful woman and I wouldn’t be here today if it was not for you.”

You hiccuped, sobbing quietly as he rambled about how much he was devoted to you. His lips found the corner of your wobbling mouth. His hand that once cupped your face now dared to hold the back of your neck while the other perched itself on your hips. He knelt between your legs, locking his lips while mumbling ‘I love you’ over and over through shaken kisses. He needed you to understand how beautiful you are in his eyes. His queen. Without another word, he pressed you gently on the couch, man-handling you until your boy was lying flat on the soft cushioning.

His lips danced down your jaw and neck. “My pretty angel. Perfect like honey. My everything.” his hands played with the buttons of your jeans, popping them open before drawing a hand down your panties. You tried to stop him, feeling you were too ugly for him to touch you. But he protested, smacking your thigh with his free hand. “I’m going to touch you. Pleasure you like the queen you are and you are going to lay here and scream my name like a good girl.”

You whimpered, still crying but you nodded, whispering a quick “Yes..Sorry.” but he stopped your whines with his fingers gripping your chin so you’d gaze right into his intense stare.

“Don’t you ever apologize for something you never did. You aren't the reason for these tears.” He wiped one away with his thumb. “The only time you cry is when I’m pleasuring you so good. You got that Honey?”

“Yes, Sir…”

“Repeat.” He growled slipping his fingers inside your soaked cunt.

“YES Sir…Fuck…” You moaned bucking your hips up, spreading your legs without thinking. He hummed in approval, fucking you slowly with his fingers. His lips attached onto your neck, sucking a few harsh marks making sure to put them in places where he’d know people would look. Where your ‘friends’ would see. You see, your lover was an honest man. A fair man. And he had already made plans in his mind of what exactly to do with these so-called friends of yours and once he was down worshipping you as you deserved he was going to have fun…talking… with those disgusting women.

He pulled up your top, tugging down your bra so your breasts would pop out. He wasted no time in littering your gorgeous tits with kisses, licks and bites. “Mine. You got that darling. You’re all mine. My good girl.” his fingers got faster placing his thumb on your clit making you scream out his name over and over. His chuckle vibrated on your nipples making you shiver in pleasure. His praises booted an ego you thought was on the ground and his lips helped wash away any negativity you mind portrayed towards your lover. “you gonna cum baby? Make a mess on my fingers?”

“Yes, Jongho. Pleaasee.” your hands flew to his hair, tugging sharply making him groan from the painful pleasure. He rubbed sharp circles on your clit helping you tip over the edge squirting all over his hands your jeans.

“Such a good girl.” you tried to sit up to inspect the damage but Jongho placed a firm hand on your shoulder, effectively pushing you back down onto the couch. “I’m going to strip you naked okay and then you are going to go have a bath while I take a call. And then I'll join you. How does that sound?”

You know all too well that bath means he wants to fuck you in the tub. One of his favourite places to fuck you since he was surrounded by your scent and sweet candles. But the phone call scared you. Jongho is a dangerous man and a cruel and mean one. One work is going well and he wants updates or… he wants someone dead. And from what you told him prior you know he's planning the second option. Cause in the end, Jongho was willing to kill for you. Protecting you, if that means wiping an entire continent out. You were his everything and he plans to show you that every day at every hour and every minute.

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luveline · 10 months

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Hi lovely!! Are you taking requests atm? If so, would it be okay if you wrote something where Eddie takes care of sick reader? I’ve been in bed the whole week with a cold, and I would love some loving right about now. If not, that’s totally okay! I hope you have a great rest of your day 🩷

thank you angel! boyfriend!eddie x fem!reader

Eddie slides his hand under your sleeping face carefully. He only wears one ring, now, the ring you'd given him. It's plain platinum and it cost a pretty penny, and it looks right at home pressed lovingly to your cheek.

Your skin is hot as an open flame. Eddie tries not to wake you up as he lays the cold press he prepared over your forehead, lips pursed in an adoring pity. He loves you, and you're so, so sick. Perturbed by your chills that persevere despite the heat emanating from your skin, Eddie pulls the thin blanket he'd brought for you up to your neck. It was his mom's, and then it was his. He doesn't mind sharing it with you.

A rivulet of cold water slinks down your head and soaks into your hair. It must tickle. You mumble under your breath, your sticky lashes pulling apart slowly.

"Eddie?" you ask, your hand sliding up to his elbow. "What is that?"

"Cold press," he says.

"It's in my hair," you whine quietly.

Your eyes finally struggle open, tracking across each of his features in turn. Visibly, you fluster at his proximity. He doesn't mean to do it, you're not so easily flushed usually. Being sick makes you lots of things, shy and clingy, sweet and cranky.

"Hello, pretty girl," he whispers teasingly.

You scrunch your eyes closed and turn your chin up at him. "Oh, don't," you laugh, your laugh then phasing into a crackling couch. "Ouch, my throat hurts."

He follows your head with his hand to make sure the cold press doesn't fall into your sweaty pillows. "I know, babe. Don't move around too much, okay? You'll agitate your chest. I have everything you need right here."

You settle down, smiling at him with eyes barely opened. "Everything?" you ask.

Eddie rubs your cheek with his thumb. "I don't like seeing you sick," he confesses, his voice taking on a roughness akin to hewn stone. "I'll do anything you want, just promise to get better, cool?"

You nod enough to disorient yourself. Eddie sighs, his exhale kissing your chapped lips, and sets about setting you right. He helps you up enough to drink a half a glass of water, hands roving wherever they can, your arms, your legs, your complaining stomach. Concerned, he sells a hot bowl of tomato soup and grilled cheese to you like he would a show, or an album, or a new movie from the store, Come on, baby, you'll love it. If you don't love it, I'll make it up to you…

You perk up after your soup, enough to let him help you shower and change into new clothes, every brush of his hand over your skin loving and brimmed with an easy promise: I'm not going anywhere.

You climb into bed together, slotting your head into the crook of his neck, his arm wrapped around your elbow and hugging it to his chest to draw shooting stars down the length of your clammy skin.

"That feels nice," you murmur sleepily, head heavy against him.

"Yeah?" he asks. He pinches a curl between his fingers and pulls your arm up enough to tickle you with it. Your giggles are slow and thick and sweet, honey spun into sound. "How are you feeling?"

"I feel good, baby. I feel much better," you say. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it. Actually don't."

"You're good at looking after me," you say warmly.

"I love doing it," he says.

You steal your arm from his grasp to fold it over his chest in as tight a hug as you can manage, which isn't tight at all. Lips against his neck, you murmur something hard to hear. He knows without clue that it's loving and far too thankful.

"You're good, sweet thing," he says nonchalantly. "I love you, too. Get better quickly, okay? This two man band is kind of lame without you."

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson scenario #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things 4

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starcrossedxwriter · 10 days

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Wicked Fantasies Part 11.1 (MBJ x OC)

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

TW: grief

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

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

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

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

“Rough night, dear?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He did what??

“Are you alright, dear??”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Raven: I don’t want that.

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

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

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

Michael: So let me fix that for you.

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

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

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

Raven: It doesn’t change anything

Michael: I know… didn’t expect it to.

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

“Thanks, appreciate that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I hear you. I just don’t wann-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

“Rae? You busy?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“She is… and I hope she knows that.”

“So tell me about…”

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

There has to be more than this, right?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Too many…”

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

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

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

“Tiff…”

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

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

“Damn… tell me how you really feel.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

To Raven on your 18th birthday

To Raven on high school graduation

To Raven after your first love

To Raven after your first heartbreak

To Raven on college graduation

To Raven on your wedding day

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

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

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

To my sweet darling girl,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Happy Birthday.

Love,

Mom

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I always wondered that. But reading those letters… I finally got it. Because even as a failed author and prostitute, I’m everything she was. Grandma used to always say I had her personality… her talent. I always thought she was lying to make me feel better. But you knew she wasn’t and you could never stand it. Couldn’t stand that I was more like her than you.” For the first time, her sister was speechless. A good look on her in Raven’s opinion. “Mom wanted so much better for me than this and I’m gonna go and find it. Because I’ve wasted too much energy trying to earn the love of people who don’t deserve it. So if you want to go to your graves hating me, making me the scapegoat for every problem in your miserable lives, have at it. But know that I don’t hate you even after all this. I won’t be weighed down anymore by any feelings toward either of you ever again. You aren’t worth it.”

Raven pulled herself to full height and rolled her shoulder back as she scooped up the box and folder she had taken from her grandmother’s stuff.

“Now I’m gonna go and have that long… rich and happy life mom wanted for me. And I hope you two do the same.”

She did not look behind her as she walked away, a soft smile on her face as she walked out of her family’s house for the last time.

She let out a long laugh as she sat in her car, so much of the weight she had been carrying around gone. It did not feel sad like when she cut off her family at Thanksgiving. She finally felt as if she had cut the anchor away and she could float away, she could move forward and heal all the broken pieces of herself that they had gleefully chipped away at.

When she got back to her hotel room, she just kept rereading her mom’s words. She would memorize each letter at this point. A part of her desperately wanted to open the other ones but she had not reached those milestones just yet so she left them where they were. For some reason, she worried her mother would disapprove of her breaking into them early.

One line of five letters she read and reread stuck to her bones above all else. And of course, as if her mother had known, it was embedded in the letter for her first love. Love… the thing that had cracked her wide open and brought her to this moment in the first place.

You’d be surprised to know that this was the hardest of the letters to write. Because everyone has some prolific idea of what love is and feels like. And I realized I don’t… because I don’t think I’ve ever experienced the love I pray you are as you read this. That’s not to say I don’t love your father, I do. But I want something different than convenience for you. I hope that the love you feel is safe, allows you to feel the full spectrum of what it means to be human - strong and vulnerable, insecure and confident, boisterous and timid. I hope it feels like stepping out of the cold air and into a warm embrace. I hope it is loud and unapologetic because you deserve nothing less. And I hope it makes you feel so enraptured that everything else in the world goes quiet. And lastly, I hope, more than anything, that it feels like home. That when you’re in this person’s embrace, you feel as if your soul finally landed right where it is supposed to be.

Her eyes scanned that passage over and over again, realizing that she had found the exact love her mother described. She had come back here thinking she was coming home. But this wasn’t home at all. Home was where he was. And he was back in LA, about to prepare for the biggest night of his life in 24 hours. And regardless of whatever trust needed to be rebuilt and conversations needed to be had, she could not allow herself to miss it. She could not allow herself to not show up for him.

Raven scrambled to find her phone as it was hidden beneath sheets of paper. She scrolled through, praying she had not deleted a long forgotten group thread that housed one number she had once thought she would never need but now was the most important phone number in the world.

She almost shouted praises to God when she found it, clicking the call button on the unsaved number. She paced up and down beside her bed as every agonizing ring dragged on.

“Didn’t think I’d see your name pop up on my phone ever again.”

Raven let out a sigh of relief as her voice filled her ears. “I know… me either. But I need a favor.”

“Does it involve a certain award show tomorrow night?”

“Yes. Is it too late?”

“Yea it is.” she knew Alex could hear the tiny sigh of sadness she let out. “For anyone but me. I’ve earned enough favors around here to create a miracle or two.”

“Really?? Cause I need like more than one or two miracles… a dress, hair, makeup… hell a flight from Charlotte to make it back in time. Without him knowing?”

“Consider all of it done. Hope you don’t mind getting up at the ass crack of dawn though.” Alex asked, Raven hearing the smile in her tone.

“For him… I’ll get up anytime.”

“Good. Then I'll take care of everything... I'll have to tell his mom but she'll love this. And probably be happy as hell that she doesn't have to go anymore. I'll text you details in an hour."

"An hour?? That's all you need??"

"You're new here so I'm gonna choose to not be offended by that."

"Noted." She was about to hang up when she stopped herself. “Hey… Alex? Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. Seriously. Just make sure your ass is on that plane and in LAX tomorrow when Allen picks you up, got it?”

Raven chuckled. “Yea I got it. See you tomorrow.”

Tag List: @readinghere2023 @blackerthings @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @physicxal @purplehairgawdess @miyuhpapayuh @rueruesclues @geemamii @certifiedlesbianbaddie @pipsqueak-98 @nyifly22 @destinio1 @twocentaur @gopaperless @musicisme333 @roguekiki @majesticbrownjawn @taurusqueen83 @mysteryuz @miamormilan @itsknor-thedeep @naj-ay444 @mads-grace4 @nayaesworld @kholdkill @msniaimani @nccu-rnc @apenasumlug4r @dezzy154

***

A/N: So now will y'all stop yelling at me LOLOL our good sis is going back to her man! We love to see it! How surprised do we think Michael's going to be? Part 11.2 will be the Oscars! Drop a comment and let me know what you thought! And as always, thanks for reading!

#black writers #michael b jordan #michael b jordan x oc #mbjordanedit #black panther #michael b jordan fanfic #michael b jordan x reader #creed 3 #adonis creed #creed iii

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riconas · 8 months

Note

Is Aeon going to get anything gentle from Rain? I'm sorry that just felt uncomfortable at the end I didn't expect it I'm sorry

Please don't be sorry, it's alright. I am sorry for not tagging better - I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable! I hope this makes up for it, and if you wanna talk to me you can always send me more anon asks, or chat to me in dms. 🧡

cw: a safeword, a splash of angst, and a very loving handjob

He doesn’t remember what it is that Rain says, but he does remember how it makes him feel. Something derogatory, something cruel, a word that Aeon would have begged for in different circumstances, but can’t stand the sound of now. Slut, maybe. Or whore. Point is, it rolled off Rain’s tongue so easily, but went to Aeon’s head like a knife.

“Yellow,” Aeon says brokenly. “Please don’t call me that.”

He still can’t see very clearly, not with his vision wet and blurry, but he feels Rain pause in his tracks. The pressure around his throat disappears all at once, as does the discomfort of Rain’s hand on his cock. Relieved, Aeon lets out a shaky exhale, and turns his head away as he tries not to sob.

And then: Rain’s hand on his cheek, gentle and painfully familiar. “I’m sorry,” he says softly, guiltily. “Are you okay?”

Aeon looks into Rain’s eyes, heedless of the tears filling his own. “I just wanted to be good.”

Without warning, Rain’s getting off of him, kneeling beside him, not touching him anywhere anymore. Aeon grabs his hand before he can go any further. He doesn’t want to be left like this.

“I know,” Rain says, and Aeon thinks he detects fear in Rain’s voice, cold and dark and oily in the aether. “I shouldn’t have said that, baby. I’m sorry.”

Rain shouldn’t have. Aeon agrees. Doesn’t change the fact that he did.

“I just want you to touch me,” he says quietly. “I don’t want the—I don’t want the rough… shit, and all that.” He sniffles, holding back tears. He doesn’t understand why it’s different today. He doesn’t want to cry.

“Okay,” Rain replies. “I understand, sweetheart.”

Rough shit be damned, Aeon’s still hard. He hoists himself up on shaky arms, shuffling back to lean against the headboard, and pointedly avoids eye contact with Rain, even when Rain grabs a pillow and tucks it behind his back. He doesn’t want to face Rain’s pity while he’s jerking him off.

“What would you like me to do?” Rain asks kindly, placing a hand on his knee as he kneels between Aeon’s legs. “We don’t have to keep going. You want to clean up? Go to bed?”

“Use your hand,” Aeon says without hesitation. Then, more demandingly: “Make me cum.” He looks up at Rain, into his lovely blue eyes, and feels a little bad. “Please.”

Rain can be so gentle when he wants to be. Aeon closes his eyes and tips his head back as Rain starts to stroke him, not too fast, not too hard. He’s getting better at asking for what he wants, getting better at saying no, and he is terribly grateful for Dew, who chewed him out non-stop until he’d dropped the people-pleasing. After all the prior meanness, he’d nearly forgotten how it felt to be pampered. He’d missed this.

“Thank you for telling me,” Rain murmurs, squeezing his hand reassuringly, working Aeon’s cock like it’s his life’s goal to make Aeon feel good. “I’m sorry I didn’t see it sooner." He thumbs over the head, just how Aeon likes it, exactly how Aeon taught him. The thought makes Aeon want to curl up into a tiny ball forever.

Carefully, he cradles Rain’s hand in both of his hands and holds it to his chest, so that Rain can feel the way his chest heaves as he gets close, the way his heart is pounding. All because of him.

“I wanted this,” Aeon says, tremulous, his head lolling to the side. “Not the choking, and the teasing. Wanted you to treat me like—like you loved me, or something.”

“I do love you,” Rain says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Aeon cums with his mouth pressed to Rain’s, lips parted, Rain’s tongue against his teeth. He’s quiet about it, groaning softly as he shoots all over Rain’s fingers, dribbles onto his own stomach. It feels like a big weight being lifted off his shoulders, the first breath after diving into the water, and when Rain noses gently into his hair, murmuring praise long overdue, Aeon forgets what he meant to say.

“There you go,” Rain murmurs, as Aeon shudders against him, burying his face in the crook of Rain’s shoulder. He digs his nails into Rain’s wrist, but Rain doesn’t complain. He stops jerking when Aeon starts to whimper, instead of dragging him into a second, more painful orgasm, and wipes his hand on the sheets instead of Aeon’s thigh.

Unfamiliar concepts to Aeon, but not unwelcome. He smiles drunkenly, gratefully, kissing Rain’s knuckles, nuzzling his hand. He’s got nothing to say, really. Nothing more he wants Rain to know, and he doesn’t want to waste his hard-earned breath on meaningless words. He kicks up a purr, groping clumsily at Rain’s waist, until Rain scoots in nice and close and presses their bodies together.

“Was that okay?” Rain asks, concerned. He puts his palm to Aeon’s cheek. “It felt alright?”

“Yeah,” Aeon mumbles tiredly. “You’re very good to me.” He pokes Rain’s chest until he detaches himself from Aeon, and then he dips a finger into the little droplets of cum on his stomach, swirling them around. So much angst, just for that. He should bring Rain a gift basket. He should return the favour.

“Should’ve told me you didn’t like it rough,” Rain says despondently, as he swipes at Aeon’s tummy in a sad attempt to clean him up. “All this time I’ve been making you feel terrible.”

“I do like it rough,” Aeon says, emphatic. “Just not today. Needed you to pretend.”

Rain kisses his forehead. “I wasn’t pretending.”

Aeon will unpack that later. He’s very tired now, and he deserves a break. He rests his head on the pillow and closes his eyes.

#anon please don't hesitate to talk to me!#i enjoyed writing this and i hope it made you feel a little better <3 #rico's ficlets #rico writes #the band ghost fanfiction #hurt/comfort #hell yeah

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brewstersbru · 3 months

Text

Uh-oh have some more; i have a problem ! Huskerdust pt. 2 🕸️❤️‍🩹

It’s stupid. Really, it’s fucking insane, nonsensical, and the worst goddamn idea Angel’s had since he sold his soul. Still, though, he can’t stop humming the song.

“I’m a loser, baby…” He sings to himself, curled around Nug as he stares out his window into the neon lights and building fires that ever burn throughout the city. One thing he likes about the hotel- aside from actually having people who care about what happens to him, and a safe (and free!) place to sleep- is that he can’t see Val’s from his room's window. He can fall asleep without his sword hanging over his neck, without the constant reminder of what he’s allowed himself to become.

Before tonight, before Husk’s surprisingly uplifting little song and dance number, Angel hated most of what he was. Yeah he likes sex, but he doesn’t like being a whore. Doesn’t like being Val’s whore, especially.

And it didn’t make anything better, not really. Not in any way that matters. But it was nice to smile at Husk and not be expected to put out for it. To dance and sing without a leash, and instead gentle fleeting touches to guide him through the steps.

Angel curls further into himself, Nug makes a soft squealing noise at the jostling.

Husk was so careful with him. They were on the side of the goddamn street, next to a puddle of bum-puke (which Husk had prevented from getting on him!!) and Husk chose to be kind with Angel. What an idiot. What a gentleman.

They’d never work out, Angel has to remind himself of that when a shiver of a feeling he’d thought had long been fucked or beaten out of him by now works its way through his body. Warm and sugary.

Both beholden to contracts they’d signed, pets to egotistic psychopaths entirely too eager to make them suffer. What now feels so comforting could very quickly turn into something agonizing and painful. Plus, Husk doesn’t want him. He’s made that abundantly clear by now. Sure he’s being nice now that Angel’s ‘respecting his boundaries’ or whatever but the boundaries are there for a reason. He doesn’t want Angel. So much that it makes him uncomfortable if he gets too close.

Angel can feel his eyelids getting heavy, but there’s a jittering in his chest that signals a rough night. Shit, even with a night as good as this one, he can’t sleep in peace?

He’s a loser. Damaged goods. Maybe he’s not alone, but fuck if he doesn’t feel it right now.

Nug wriggles out from the lax cage of his arms and jumps off the bed.

***

There are texts from Val waiting on Angel’s phone when he wakes up.

He was right, it was a rough night. Only managed a cool three hours of fitful tossing before his alarm rang for the hotel’s ‘daily activities’. Say what you will about him, he’s nothing if not punctual (and Charlie had looked real pitiful when she asked him to come down in the mornings more, it’s really impossible to say no to her face).

The texts are a long eternity of scrolling pink. Angel sighs at the few words he manages to catch as he makes his way to the top, “whore” (unoriginal), “bitch” (overdone), “ungrateful” (points for accuracy), and a whole myriad of other demeaning things that his exhaustion addled mind can’t be assed to fully compartmentalize.

He didn’t know how much he’d miss being called “baby” in that smooth low baritone until now; being called all the regular stuff makes his stomach churn in comparison. Or maybe it’s just who’s calling him what. He’d let Husk call him whatever he wanted if he kept being all gentle with him. Shit, it hasn’t even been a day and he’s already mooning like a whiny romance protagonist. Eugh.

Looks like he’s got another long shoot today. He’s expected over in an hour or so, and Val had signed off with an “xoxo” which really means “or else”. God, he’s really punishing him for stepping out of line this time. Angel can feel a twinge of something in his back as he stands from his bed. Even with an enhanced body, fourteen hours nonstop took it’s toll, and it’s just going to get worse from here. He winces to himself and moves to rub at the sore spot. “Fuck.” He mutters, casting around for a decently sexy outfit so Val doesn’t have another thing to nitpick about.

It doesn’t take long, after the first several years of coming home sticky and itchy Angel had curated his closet to be both sexy and comfortable. Every piece strikes that balance perfectly and nothing clashes when combined. He’s quite proud of it actually, but it’s not something that comes up often in conversation so he doesn’t really ever have the occasion to brag.

Husk is- as he always is- shining glasses behind the bar when Angel makes his way down. One has to wonder if the dishes he’s cleaning are actually dirty, or if he just needs something to do with his hands. Angel would put a lot of money on the latter, no one here- even with all the alcoholics- could possibly go through glasses that fast.

Husk’s eyes dart up to his when the stairs let out a sharp creak, announcing his presence. With a small, private smile he waves him over.

“Mornin’ Angel. Fancy a drink?”

It’s really pathetic how much Angel has to fight to not give in. Not to walk over and settle at the bar, letting that warm, even voice soothe all his decades old aches and pains. He smiles, but it’s tight and untrue. Husk glances down at his lips for a moment, frowns, then goes back to shining.

“Sorry, Kitty, got a shoot. Raincheck?” He hopes he says yes. What he would give to be able to see Husk at the end of the- long, painful and entirely exhausting- day and share a drink. He’s never been to heaven, never even tried thinking about what might be up there because, well, look at him. It’s not really his kind of place, is it?

Still, though, a drink with Husk at the end of today’s misery has got to be pretty damn close. As close as Angel can ever hope to get, anyways. Husk sets the newly polished glass down, and leans against the countertop.

“Sure thing. I’ll have a cosmo waiting.” Angel can tell he wants to ask, that he wants to say something about Val and the fact that this is the second day in a row Angel is going in for a long shoot. About the bruises that are still visible, having just started purpling against Angel’s skin. But he doesn’t, he bites his tongue and offers what solace he can. The feeling that bubbles beneath Angel’s skin at this realization is hot and dangerous.

He nods, curt and with another stiff smile before scurrying off. He hates that Husk has seen him like this.

“I can’t wait.” Angel mutters- more to himself than anything- at the cusp of the doorway.

And it’s the gospel goddamned truth.

***

It’s late, definitely later than whatever ballpark time Husk had in mind when he accepted the raincheck for tonight and though Angel knows Husk’s not really one to give much of a shit about punctuality- when you have eternity ahead of you, ‘on time’ becomes pretty damned relative- he still feels like shit for keeping him waiting.

He’s fidgeting in the back of a sleek, pink limo Val had been kind enough to provide him when, at the end of today’s shoot, Angel had found himself frighteningly unable to walk. Of course, nothing is ever free in this unlife, so Val had taken a cut of his earnings to ‘compensate himself’ for having to cart Angel around, when, if he’d just done as he was told, he wouldn’t have gotten himself hurt enough to need it.

Angel doesn’t want to buy into the idea, but Val has a point. He needs to be more careful if he’s going to continue being of any use to the hotel. As much as he pretends to be an uncaring freeloader, something itches beneath his skin at the thought of actually becoming one. He can pull his weight. He can pull his goddamned weight.

The limo swerves in front of the hotel and lets him off with little fanfare; Angel gingerly picks his way up the hill to the large front doors, wincing and trying to ignore the stabbing agony going on below his waist with each step.

He doesn’t expect to see anyone when he walks in, it’s late, and they have ‘redemption’ exercises to do in the morning; even Husk has to have a bedtime and it’s late enough that Angel assumes the time has already passed. Hell, if Angel didn’t have work today he’d probably be asleep by now.

And yet- as he tiptoes past the threshold, gently pulling the door closed behind him- Angel hears a low rumbling sound. The lights in the lobby are off, as expected, but there’s just enough ambient light to reveal a small lump curled up on the couch. Upon closer inspection, Angel realizes that the sound is purring, and the lump is Husk.

“What the fuck…” He mutters to himself, as Husk’s purring is interrupted by what Angel can only describe as a hitching snore before resuming with even more force. His wings, which have been wrapped around himself in a facsimile of a blanket, tremble and shudder with the power of the vibrations. Angel has to strangle the coo that tries to escape his lips at the sight.

Fuck, that’s adorable. He really is just a kitty underneath all that jaded bullshit, huh. Unwitting, Angel’s hand reaches out to coast over the fur on his head. Not quite touching, but close enough to feel the warm shudder of contented purring. It’s enough to make Angel forget about his injuries for the moment, too enamored with the rare sight of a pleasantly sated Husk in the throes of sleep.

Alas, the bliss of the moment is short-lived, and before Angel can tug his hand away, Husk snatches it out of the air, scrambling up into a sitting position to glare at him and hiss. Okay, even his hissing is kind of cute, but that might just be Angel’s fucked up-ness talking.

“Hey… Huskie…” Angel eeks, trying to pull his hand away from Husk’s bruising grip. His body’s already got its work cut out with his other injuries, it doesn’t need more paltry bruises to expend its energy on.

Husk shakes his head and, after a moment, his eyes clear of the film of sleep. Once he recognizes Angel in front of him, he drops his arm, as if burned.

“Fuck, Angel. Y’can’t sneak up on me like that.” Having regained his senses, he takes a moment to apprise himself of the state of Angel, eyes roving critically over each exposed patch of skin in the dim light. His expression gradually hardens as he becomes more and more aware of just how much damage there is to contend with. Angel, desperate to talk about literally anything but his bleeding body laughs hollowly.

“Yeah, sorry man. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you sleep before, though, did you know you purr?” Husk gives him a blank look at the obvious attempt at deflection but, after a moment, shrugs and scoots over, patting the space beside him on the couch. “I was aware. Must’ve passed out waiting for you.” He scratches at the chops of fur just below his chin as he speaks, seemingly unconcerned with what he’s just said. That he waited for Angel to come back so they could have their raincheck; that he waited up and Angel was late.

Angel feels a little sick, the mixture of butterflies and sinking despair in his gut creating something entirely new, and entirely nauseating. He winces, but settles on the couch, curling into himself. “Sorry about that, Tuts. Got a little caught up at the studio… Y’know you didn’t have to wait up, right? We can always raincheck another day.”

It’s quiet for a long, excruciating moment, before Angel feels Husk’s eyes on him again. He can’t bring himself to meet them, instead staring further into the relative safety of the knotted wooden floor. Husk sighs.

“I know. I wanted to.”

Oh. Oh, fuck. Angel is infinitely thankful for the fact that the lights are off because he can feel the aggressive flush working its way up his cheeks and knows it would be incredibly obvious, if it isn’t already. He coughs into one of his hands.

“But… I was late…? It’s- it’s like four AM. I wouldn't blame you for just going to bed.” Angel isn’t really sure why he’s arguing with Husk about this, all he knows is that none of what has happened since he walked into the hotel has made any goddamn sense, and it’s making his stomach churn. Husk’s tail swishes, hovering lightly over the span of Angel’s hunched shoulders, not touching, but close enough to feel.

Finally, after another long minute of silence, Husk speaks.

“I just wanted to make sure you got back okay.” Part of Angel swoons at the gentlemanly sentiment, the rest of him bristles at the implication that he needs that. That he can’t make sure he gets back okay on his own. That he’s weak. He whips around to glare at a startled Husk.

“And you don’t think I can get myself back safely? Fuck you, man, I’m not some weak little damsel in need of saving.” He spits. Husk shakes his head, eyes wide at the vehemence in Angel’s words. His hand raises from his lap- perhaps to reach out, to comfort- but at Angel’s expression, he brings it to his own arm to rub at his tricep sheepishly.

“Stop putting words in my mouth, Angel.” He scolds, brows furrowed, “I don’t think you’re weak, I just don’t want you to feel like you’re facing this alone.”

Angel scoffs and turns away. Evidently, that’s the breaking point for Husk, because he huffs and snarls, “What? I can’t care about you?” There’s a static to his movements, a ruffling to his fur that indicates real irritation. For some reason, that makes Angel angrier.

“Not if you’re not fucking me! Not if you don’t get any fucking thing out of it! Fuck!” His wounds give a valiant, biting twinge at the end of his sentence, causing Angel to hunch over himself and press a hand against his side while he struggles to catch his breath. Through the haze of agony, he hears shuffling, and feels the couch straighten as Husk rises to leave.

Good fucking riddance. Angel knew it was all talk. He knew it.

His breaths remain ragged for a long time while he tries to get ahold of himself again. Enough, at least, that he can drag himself back to his room. He curses Husk, but more so he curses himself for getting himself into this situation in the first place. What was his one rule? Don’t get attached, don’t let them lure you into thinking they care because they never do, and you’re just going to end up getting your feelings hurt if you keep being stupid about it.

The pain does not abate, even as his thoughts spiral ever downwards into despair.

After an excruciating, indeterminate amount of time, he feels the couch dip again and, unwilling to face whatever well-meaning do-gooder it is this time, Angel shakes his head.

“Leave. Me. Alone.” he grits, each word more painful than the last. The person does not leave.

“Are you gonna let me help you now, or is it going to be another fight?” It’s Husk’s voice. He’s back. Fuck, why is he back? The noise of confusion that bursts from Angel’s lips is entirely unwitting. He opens his mouth to offer a scathing rebuttal, but can only manage a soft groan. Husk scoots closer. He’s warm. Fuzzy.

“Just nod or shake your head. Can I touch you?” Angel takes a moment to think about it, but has to acquiesce to himself that if he doesn’t let Husk touch him, he’s going to be in agony for the rest of the night. With great effort, he nods. A heavy breath punches itself from Husk’s lips, fanning warmly across Angel’s head.

“Okay. Good. I’m gonna lay you down so I can get a better look.” Angel desperately wants to make a joke about the phrasing of that, but doesn’t get the chance before he's being manhandled onto his back. It’s a familiar situation, but the usual spike of fear in his throat is noticeably absent this time. Angel doesn’t dwell on what that might mean.

Husk works quickly and efficiently on Angel’s wounds, soothing him with a warm hand through Angel’s hair whenever the pain gets to be too much- punching miserable little sounds from him- and keeping his touches strictly clinical. When he finishes, he sits back on his heels with a sigh. Settling back at the other end of the couch and allowing Angel his personal space again. Angel’s eyes feel surprisingly heavy. He catches a soft look from Husk before they flutter closed.

Husk chuckles, soft and low.

“See? Doesn’t always have to be a fight.”

#hazbin hotel #huskerdust #angel dust #husker hazbin hotel #husker x angel dust #i imagine angel would get aggressive when he feels weird #like why does this mf care?? suspicious #had a lot of fun writing this #still learning their characters tho #can u tell im a sucker for wound tending #husk is a kitty #pls enjoyyyy #brublurbs #cross posted on ao3 as always bc i crave attention

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joels6string · 1 year

Text

Carnal Reflections

Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: No Cordyceps AU: Joel walks in on you getting ready for a night out.

Rating: E

Word Count: 1.1k

Content: smut, unprotected p-in-v, mirror sex, fingering, dirty talk, creampie, cum play, depraved porn without plot

You were late. Par for the course, but this time you’d really tried to be ready on time. It just didn’t work out that way.

The dress you wanted to wear had turned out to be too tight over your hips, a lovely reminder of the extra pounds you’d put on since the last time you wore it…five years ago. A pile of other ruled out choices lay around it on the bed, your shoulders slumped as you stared at yourself in the mirror in nothing but a thong and thigh-highs, inventorying what was even left to attempt at this point that wasn’t leggings and one of Joel’s shirts.

“Honey,” he called with an air of agitation, his boots thudding on the creaking stairs as he made his way up to you, “We are already late-”

As the door creaked open, his scolding was immediately cut short, and you prepared yourself for the stern annoyance his tone was about to take on. It was Tommy’s birthday and the party had been planned for months, and now you’d be missing the surprise element of it all which was what Joel was looking forward to the most.

“I know,” you preemptively defended, “My dress didn’t fit.”

“For good damn reason,” he responded in a huff, his gruff voice already an octave lower.

When his calloused hands slid across the sensitive skin around your waist, a shock traveled down your spine and settled between your thighs, his beard grazing over your bare shoulder as his breath fanned over the shell of your ear, heat building in your lower belly faster than you could try and control. The gentle scrap of his teeth tugging your earlobe had a traitorous whine slipping free, your back pressing into his chest as your body begged for his hands to slip lower and swipe through the dampness that had already begun to accumulate.

He chuckled when you pressed your bare ass against the rough denim of his jeans, the stiff bulge making you whine again, his fingers drifting higher and tugging on your pebbling nipples. Blood rushed downwards again, your body twitching this time in response as he rolled your pert little bud, his teeth nipping once again, this time at the curve of your neck and shoulder.

“How soaked are you?” he growled against your prickling skin, one of his hands undoing his belt as the other tearing your panties clean off, sliding his fingers through your slit and groaning in appreciation, “God damn. Doesn’t take much, does it?”

“No…” you sputtered, uncaring of how desperate you sounded.

The lazy circles over your clit he began to work you up with were enough to have your knees buckling, his arm keeping you upright with a tight hold beneath your breasts. Your legs spread wider, his middle digit sinking into your soaked hole and pumping in and out roughly, curling to press against that rough patch on your inner wall with pinpointed accuracy. It was easy to get lost in him, your head dizzying at the first hint of the cologne he wore only on special occasions mingling with the sawdust and leather aroma that clung to his skin. He was solid behind you, keeping you steady, buoying you in the storm of his own creation, and when you fell victim to the waves rolling through you he whispered gentle praises as you carnally cried out into the moonlight filtering in through the window.

“That’s it,” he cooed, “Open your eyes, sweetheart. Open ‘em and see how pretty you look.”

Your mascara was smudged, your mouth hanging open, and when his cock breached your entrance and slipped in to the base with ease there was no denying how utterly depraved and pitiful you looked as your eyes rolled into the back of your head.

“Focus,” he instructed, sliding out and slamming back in as his hand gripped your chin, directing your gaze back to the reflections in front of you, “Look at yourself.”

How could you focus on yourself when he was right there? He was gripping your hips now, slamming into your ass hard enough to have it shaking against his forceful thrusts. His lips were parted, eyes fixated on where your bodies met, his face freed of the tension he carried in the fine lines and sun-darkened features. You were whining, the sound barely audibly over the sound of skin slapping against skin, your body so willingly taking him it took all his focus to keep himself from slipping out of your slick channel.

Hazel eyes met yours when a hand around your throat pulled you flush against his chest, squeezing enough to cut off your airflow slightly. It was effortless the way he lifted your leg and hung it in the bend of his elbow, the sight of his cock disappearing into your swollen folds on blatant display. You could see the way you stretched around his girth, his shaft flushed red and glistening with your juices that coated your inner thighs.

“Fuck…” you whimpered, eyes transfixed as he fucked up into you, his face buried in the crook of your neck as he panted, his control faltering.

“Touch yourself,” he commanded, “Lemme see.”

There was nothing slow or gentle about the way you rubbed at your buzzing bundle of nerves. Every inch of you was electrified, his grip around your windpipe robbing you of your last ounce of coherency. As you succumbed to him the second time, white heat searing over your sweat-soaked skin, he captured your lips with his, your tongues drunkenly dancing as you felt him spilling hot and deep inside of you.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he sighed as he pulled himself free, keeping your leg slung up in his hold as you both watched his spendings leaking free of your gaping hole, “Ain’t you a mess?”

All you could do was nod, your fingers sliding down to push what was dripping back into your pussy, his groan of appreciation vibrating through you. You were quivering, still suffering from the aftershocks, autopilot bringing your drenched two middle digits to your lips and sucking them clean.

“You know what?” he snarled, turning your lips back to his, “I think I’m sick. Caught that nasty bug goin’ around. I’d hate to pass it along. Now. Get on that bed.”

The text to Maria apologizing for his absence was barely legible, his hands too eager to unbutton his shirt as he kicked his jeans further down his legs with every step, his body hovering over yours as he notched himself between your thighs. The night was only just beginning now.

Joel Miller Masterlist

#joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fic #the last of us fanfic #tlou fanfiction #tlou fanfic #tlou fic

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thesmokingguns · 1 year

Text

Accidents Happen

Rewrite of Kitten

Warning: Minors DNI 18+ Sex, cum play, breeding kink, dirty talk, possession kink, degradation, rough sex

“That’s my girl. Fuck kitten.” Nikki had you riding on his lap, one arm around your waist to squeeze your pinned arms in place and help keep you steady as your thighs and hips controlled the movements. Forced to ride his cock, up and down in a steady motion he had you doing. Your body aching as it moved for him. Needing him to tell you what to do so you could please him. Knowing better than to stop.

He was pushing up into you, fast and deep thrusts as you lost all train of thought and just let him fuck you. The way you moved sloppier as he took over, the wetness of your pussy creaming over his shaft as the wet sounds of your pleasure and him filling you echoed through the bedroom. Your nipples were taunt, dragging across his chest into erotic points of pleasure that were stimulated by you riding him.

He flipped you, pressing your knees into the mattress, taking your hands behind your lower back and holding you in position as he smacked your ass, watching it turn bright pink and bounce back to meet his thrusts. He was so deep inside of you, your toes curling with pleasure from the feeling of him filling you. Deeper and deeper with each needy thrust.

It wasn’t until he warned you, in that deep grumble of a voice, that he was going to cum that something snapped in your brain and you thought of the tin foil packet still filled with little pills.

“Don’t. No. Nikki STOP!” Your words fell on deaf ears as you tried to wiggle off him but his other arm wrapped around you, sealing you in place as he pressed himself deeper into you, cock letting out spurts of hot cum as your body yearned to cum around him, “I forgot my birth control,” and at that he released you, letting you fall back into the bed, seeing the fierce anger in his eyes as he looked at the pitiful display of your used body.

“You have one job and you can’t even fucking do that.” He sneered it out, wiping his wet cock against the back of your thighs. Reducing your body to a nothing object. You were his cum rag, used to clean his spent cock.

Nikki could turn and be mean when he felt like things were out of his control. You usually took things and made him feel better and he would repay you tenfold. But when his eyes darkened like they had now you knew that it wasn’t going to be an easy punishment.

Cum dripped down your thighs as you literally drooled on the sheets so fucked out that you were mindless and thinking of yourself as an object for the man and no longer a person, groaned as you felt Nikki’s finger slide inside of your used cunt. You ached around him, raw from the rough drawn out sex. Tender cunt throbbing around his fingers and clamping down from habit around him. Pulling more of his cum out with his two fingers, curling them in a come here motion tha had your over stimulated g-spot sending signals to your brain that had your eyes crossing, pulling from you what he had left behind moments before.

The cum was wiped on your thighs, sticky and wet. Sore form hom Nikki was scratching across the backs of them as he used your body like a towel. He was taking his cum from you and using it as a punishment. You wondered if he would let it dry there, like stains serving as a warning for what a dirty girl you were.

“I’m sorry daddy.” You said with a sob as he prodded your sore walls with his fingers and caused another whimper of pain and shame from your lips. He wasn’t taking it easy on you and the frustration he had for you was rolling out of him and was causing this tension in the bedroom. And you wanted to go back, do anything to make him happy.

Nikki just clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he looked at you, the way you were pressed against the sheets and being still, afraid to move because he was furious at you. Pussy achy and leaking cum as his fingers left you, a few globs of his cum coming out and making the wet spot grow underneath you as the cum that missed the skin of your thighs fell to the sheets. Or the cum dripped down, over your thighs and past the back of your knees, wetting the sheets you were kneeling on.

“So pathetic.” He muttered, finally speaking as you feared the aftermath of your mistake, “You forget your birth control today and now I have to clean your filthy pussy for you after you take all my cum like a good girl?” he paused for a second and it was so quiet you knew only something bad could happen from him. How mad was he for you forgetting?, “You know what, no. You want to be a bad girl? I’ll treat you like that” You sniffled a sob out, hating when he was mad at you and wanting to go back to him taking pleasure from your body. Be his good little girl taking his cock again..

The head of Nikki’s cock was at your entrance pressing inside of you as he once more started to fuck you. The soreness from his fingers, inside of your body stretched raw and painful around the girth of his cock, whimpering at the full stretch of him once more filling you with his body. Your body was already clutching around him and squeezing as you got used to him fucking you again. No time to recover and just used up like his personal sex toy. Your favorite thing to be.

“We’re not going to clean up your dirty little pussy anymore. You want to forget your birth control? Daddy is going to put a baby inside of you and show you there are consequences for your actions.” You whimpered as he slammed into you, not taking it easy on you like you wanted him to do. This wasn’t love making but this was a punishment fuck and you were very aware that this was to show you how easily he could use you.

Hard fast fucking where he didn’t care about your orgasm and slapped your hands away when you tried to touch the spot between your legs to give yourself a bit of pleasure if he wasn’t going to make the effort on it. This fuck wasn’t for you but this was for him to take out his frustration on you. Using you as he wanted to; you were just a hole at the moment to him. He had you bent, folded like a throw blanket on the bed as he thrust so deep inside of you your stomach hurt from the impact.

His cum once more filled you as he slapped inside of you, cock draining into you as you wondered how he managed to cum so much and if you were going to be forced to clean him out of you yourself.

“What do you say?” Nikki asked, pulling out as you whimpered at the burn of him moving out of you. Your body is so used to his by now that the sore skin didn’t know what to do without some part of his body pressed against it. His fingers now pushing the cum he had been taking out of you now being pushed back inside, making sure you were stuffed with it.

“Thank you daddy.” The words managed to squeak out from between your lips and you felt his smile without seeing it. Knowing he was smiling at you eased your worrying.

Something about breeding you softened Nikki and he was laying beside you, stroking your hips with the tips of his fingers, fingers brushing over your belly as he laid beside you, holding your knees to your chest so that he gave his swimmers time to swim up and do what he wanted them to do..

“Stop taking your birth control, okay? I want to put a baby in you. I’ll take care of you both, you just worry about staying healthy. Okay, darling?” You nodded, tired and needing him to love you, he could sense that, “Close your eyes and get some rest, we’re going to be very busy.” He warned, knowing that now that he had the idea of breeding you in his mind he wasn’t going to be able to stop until it was done..

#Nikki Sixx #Nikki Sixx fanfic #Nikki Sixx fan fic #Nikki Sixx Motley Crue #nikki sixx fan fiction #nikki sixx fanfiction #Nikki sixx imagine #nikki sixxx #siXXX #Daddy Sixx #motley crue fic #Motley Crue fan fic #Motley Crue fanfic #Motley Crue fan fiction #80s rock #80s rock fan fic

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sweet-lover-girl · 1 year

Text

Feeling Sick

This is just about how the reader is having a rough time with her anxiety and has a tummy ache.

Reader also has OCD and is slightly autistic.

PLEASE DO NOT READ if it may cause you to panic, this does involve reader having a small panic attack and it talks about having OCD. This is okay, I saw it in my drafts and decided to post it. Honestly I'm nervous to post this not gonna lie, just because it does talk about mental health, I wrote this based off of how my OCD is, I'm not saying this is how OCD is for anyone who suffers it. This is just how mine sometimes fucks with me. So with that begin said...

I hope y'all enjoy this!

(Not proofread..)

You laid in yours and Abby’s shared bed, wallowing in self pity as your tummy ached and felt sour. Wrapping your arms around your self and cradling your stomach, you wait impatiently for Abby to walk through the door.

Your tummy has been hurting for some time now and you already got some medicine from Nora plus some advice on things that might help you feel better, sadly though all you’ve been able to do was lay in bed with a heating pad that Abby had snagged on a patrol mission three weeks ago on your stomach and wait for it to soothe.

You finally hear the door open and Abby’s heavy industrial boots hit the floor with her step. You hear her drop her heavy bag on the ground and her sigh softly and some shuffling before there was a pause,”Baby? Are you awake?” Abby whispered, in case you were indeed asleep. No wonder way she did ask though, as you were covered in blankets and turned to lay on your right side facing away from her, curled up into a fetal position.

“I’m awake.” You say still laying there.

You hear Abby’s footfall as she makes her way across the room and comes to stand in front of you, she pushes your hair back softly from your forehead before her hand comes to a rest on your cheek, her thumb rubbing over the swell of it slowly. You sigh as she does this, feeling better now that she’s here with you.

“Are you okay pumpkin?” Abby asked.

“No, I’ve felt bad all day.”

“Where do you feel bad at?” She asked as she kneeled down in front of you and placed her lips softly on your forehead to see if you where running a fever.

You let out a huff before ranting,”I felt faint so I came and laid down, that and my tummy had been hurting and I feel sick, plus I have a headache and-“ you abruptly stop talking because you remembered she’s the one who just got back from running around and fighting all day, and here you were complaining about feeling bad. You suddenly felt very guilty.

“Honey, do you need the bin?” Abby began to reach for the bin next to the bed but you stopped her.

“No, no I’m okay, I just..” you stopped talking.

“What is is love, do I need to go get Nora or Mel real quick?” Abby was so sweet it made your heart physically ache, she was so worried about you not feeling good she forgot how tired she had felt from her long day. Now focused on taking care of you instead.

You were quick to grab Abby’s hand as she stood up, getting ready to leave and go to medical to get you some medicine. Stopping her and saying,”No! Please don’t leave.”

Abby paused looking down at your pitiful form with a confused look.

“Just—stay please. Don’t leave..” You begged her.

“Okay love, it’s okay. I won’t leave.” She replied. Still holding your hand, she lifted your hand up and kissed your knuckles.

“How was your day?” You asked, trying to pull the subject off of you, still feeling guilty.

“It’s was surprisingly good today. Manny and I didn’t run into any Scars and only a few infected. We even found an old store that looked like it hadn’t been looted so we marked the map for the scouts to go look at tomorrow.”

You smiled at the information she gave you, happy that she had such a good day. Lately she’s been over worked by Isaac, he was putting her on more missions and even had her do night watch just a few days ago. He was feeling Paranoid about something but wouldn’t say what, won’t even tell Abby. So she’s been stressed about this and has been pretty restless as well.

“I’m so glad you had a good day Abs.”

“Yeah, it was a pretty damn good day.” Abby smiled down at you.

“Now, tell me what I can do to help you feel better.” She said kneeling in the floor once more.

You lay there not really sure on what to say. You didn’t want to make her do anything, you just wanted her, just wanted her near you or hold you but you were afraid it was to self centered to ask, even though you genuinely felt like shit, you already feel bad for venting to her about how you feel.

“Baby?” Abby asked as you stayed quite for to long.

“Huh? Oh sorry, no there’s nothing you have to do.” You say quickly, rubbing your eye with your blanket covered hand.

Abby hummed softly at the reply you gave her, not really liking how you were neglecting your needs. She stood up and went to get you some water and more stomach medication. She also had picked up dinner on the way up to your room, it was soup with some bread.

She walked back over to you with a tray that had a cup of water, a bottle of medicine, and a bowl with broth soup and bread on the side next to it. Abby placed the tray down onto the side bed table and gentle helped you sit up and propped a pillow behind your back, keeping the heating pad on your aching stomach.

“There, think you can eat something for me love?” Abby said as she softly creases your cheek in her large warm hand. You nodded and she smiled, picking up the tray and placing it in your lap.

You honestly didn’t want to—you felt almost to sick, but maybe some warm soup would help. So with a heavy heart you picked up the spoon and lifted it to your mouth. Slurping up the warm broth—the taste was overwhelming to you, making your tummy feel funny, you just held the soup in your mouth, looking up to Abby and shook your head.

She gave a soft sigh, she hated when you felt sick, knowing you usually suffer from stomach cramps on a regular basis because of your anxiety, but she wasn’t going to focus you to eat, not right now anyways, she’ll just trying again later with crackers or something like that.

She picks up the trash bin and lets you spit the soup into the trash bag before placing it back down, then picking up the tray and placing it back on the side table, she turned to you before saying. “Is it okay if I go shower really quick? I really wanna cuddle but I refuse to do so while this dirty.” She was indeed dirty, though it was mostly mud from the rainy day.

“Yeah, of course you don’t have to ask Abs..”

You really didn’t wanna be left alone with your anxiety of being sick, but you knew she needed to shower.

“Okay, I’ll be right back love.” She then kissed your forehead and went around the room grabbing her clothes and towel, plus her special bar of pine soap before walking to the door, looking back at you to make sure you were still okay, and walked out.

You sigh as the doors closed, suddenly feeling very anxious. You lay back down slowly as to disturb your upset stomach even more. Grabbing the pillow that was Abby’s, you cuddled it to your chest as you felt tears begin to swell in your waterlines. Stop it, you though.

You’re fine, she’ll be back in like ten minutes. You nuzzle your face into her pillow, smelling the scent of her still on it, Dewy earth and pine, it was so comforting to you. You didn’t really realize it but you began to doze off with your face buried in her pillow.

Then suddenly—your tummy turned and you sat up quickly with wide eyes. You breath picked up as you felt sick again. No please just, stop it. You though. Not tonight please.

You were use to stomach aches as you get them when your anxiety is bad, and lately your anxiety has been pretty bad, no really specific thing you were thinking about but just feeling anxious. That’s just how it worked for you.

You throw your legs over the side of the bed as you felt a lump in your throat, quickly grabbing the bin and holding it to your chest as you let out a cry. You hate feeling like this, anxious and sick. You began to tremble as you try and take deep breaths like Abby taught you too.

Where was Abby? It feels like it’s been forever since she went to shower, she should her been back by now.

Tears falling from your eyes as you finally hear the door open and hearing a gasp as Abby’s footsteps hitting the ground, your eyes were closed as you felt two warm large hands grab your cheeks. “It’s okay baby, it’s okay.” Abby also know how much you hated being sick like this. She hated seeing you like this—so miserable with nothing for her to do to make you feel better.

“Abby,” you cry out.

“I’m here pumpkin.”

She begins to rub your back and you follow the slow movement, matching your breath to it. After about a minute of this your breathing was back to normal and your tummy felt a little better. “Can I take this baby?” Abby asked grabbing the lip of the bin, you squeeze it tighter to your chest—afraid that if you let go you’ll get sick. You start to tap your foot, repeating the rhythm and number counting in your head. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, nine, nine, nin—

“Baby,” Abby stopped the cycle,“Come back to me.”

You sigh out of frustration as your relief was short lived. People at the WLF didn’t really understand your mental disorders, having OCD and being autistic, well you were slight autistic, but it was still autism never the less. Abby, bless her heart, she tried her hardest to understand and to help you however she could; when she saw you doing a repetitive act she knew that was your OCD in play, and you were just doing what it told you to do. Even if that was knocking on your forehead seven times with both hands. She knew that you hated how it was a form of relief to do this actions, your OCD would tell you, You will get sick if you don’t step on the same rock three times with your right foot, you tried your hardest not to listen to it, to not do the movements—but sometimes it would bring Abby into the mix.

Hold your breath till you cross that line, or Abby will get bit, but don’t step on it. It would whisper nastily into your ear, echoing in your mind—so you would hold your breath till you’ve crossed that random line, taking a large step as to make sure you don’t touch said line, people looking at you funny, making you blush with embarrassment. You knew it was all just lies and intrusive thoughts at play, fucking with your mind and trying to make you feel fear—as that’s what it wanted, it wanted you to be afraid and to hide. To be it’s fucking prisoner.

Abby could see you were in your thoughts, so she gently grabbed the bin and placed it near the bed in case you needed it, before walking around to the other side of the bed quickly and got into bed slowly, once she was in bed she had realized her pillow was gone, noticing you had it on your lap. She sighed softly at the cute sight, her heart melting at the thought of you needing it to help you calm down. She rubbed at your back—pulling you from your mind.

You look over your shoulder and see that Abby is in bed, the lamp on her side still on, she knew that having light helped calm you down as well. You hadn’t realized how late it has become. You slowly lay back down once more now that your tummy felt a little more at ease, giving Abby her pillow back as you curled up against her chest, almost in a fetal position, subconsciously protecting your stomach.

She placed her arm under you head, you using it as a pillow, it was somehow more comfortable then your actual pillow. She then placed her other hand over you hip, rubbing it softly with her thumb.

“Where were you?” You asked quietly as your eyes began to close, feeling tired after such a quick and sudden panic episode.

“I was with Manny, he wanted to know if I was on the same patrol with him tomorrow.”

“Are you?” You yawned.

“No pumpkin, I’m off tomorrow, it’s just you and me, okay?” Abby said and she brushed her lips against your forehead to give you a small sweet kiss.

You hummed at the good information you just got and nuzzles your face into her arm, despite it being pure muscle, it was soft to lay on, that and her smell was so much stronger now that you were in her arms.

Abby could see you fading, falling into a hopefully good slumber, so she said her good nights quietly and a little, I love you.

You were already asleep at this point in time, and Abby could feel her eyes begin to close as well now that she was finally in bed with her baby girl, her favorite place to be.

It fell quite in the softly lit dim room of yours as you both finally fell asleep in each other’s arms.

#abby anderson/reader #abby anderson fan fiction #abby tlou #abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson x you #abby x reader #abby the last of us

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