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lustfulslxt · 7 months

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Sweet Nothings - Matt Sturniolo

summary : as matt’s girlfriend, you feel very insecure being plus size. he assures you he loves every bit of you.

warnings : insecurities and sex.

—

Matt and I had been out at some pool party for a few hours, and quite frankly, I was beyond ready to go. I’m not really a people’s person, much less when I’m surrounded by people who make me feel self conscious.

Being bigger, I’ve always struggled with loving myself. And sometimes I do well with it, but then there’s times like these; when everybody surrounding us is small and beautiful, and I can feel their judgmental stares.

Sometimes, I wonder if Matt sees it too. Surely, he does. He could be with literally anybody he wanted, why would he settle for me?

“What’s the matter, princess?” His voice cuts me from my thoughts.

I turn my head, only to be met with his concerned face staring down at me. I give him a slight smile and shake my head a bit, causing him to wrap his arm around me.

“Do you want to leave? Say the word and we’re gone.”

I pondered for a moment, before ultimately nodding, “Please.”

He brings me in closer, hooking his arm around my shoulders and planting a kiss on my temple. With that, we were finally exiting the party.

Upon making it to his car, he opens the door for me. Once I get in, he stands there looking at me with a thoughtful expression on his face.

“What?” I ask him, feeling a little self conscious at the moment.

“You know, you might not want to talk to me, and that’s fine, I won’t force you to. But if you change your mind, just know that I’m here for you. Whatever it may be, I’m always here.” He says, staring me into my eyes.

My lips grow into a smile as butterflies dance in my stomach. I lean forward and plant a soft and gentle kiss on his lips, which he passionately returns.

“Thank you.” I whisper.

He gives me another small kiss and a slight nod, then makes his way over to the driver side of the car. He gets in and we’re on our way.

Throughout the whole ride, I couldn’t help but let my thoughts wonder again. I couldn’t shake my insecurities this time, and it was forming an uncomfortable pit at the bottom of my stomach. I think Matt could sense I was anxious, because he reached over and placed his hand on my thigh, rubbing circles into it.

I truly love this man. He’s everything to me. He’s so funny, so kind, so caring, so charming, so pretty. He’s everything I’ve ever wanted. I couldn’t help but wonder if I was the same for him.

“What on your mind, princess?” Matt asks, sparing me a quick glance.

A frown immediately made its way to my face. I wanted to talk to him about this, but I was also scared. I didn’t want to feel stupid, and I really didn’t want to humiliate myself.

Sighing, I ask, “Are you attracted to me?”

Chuckles continuously fell from his mouth, him supposedly finding my question very amusing. Once he took in my serious expression, his face fell.

“What? Are you serious?” He asks, bewildered. “Of course, I find you attractive. You’re the most beautiful girl in the world.”

“You’re not just saying that?”

He frowns, “No! Why? You are perfect to me. Where is this coming from?”

I looked away from him, avoiding his gaze. I could feel a lump forming in my throat and I hate that I just want to cry. I’m always so sensitive sometimes, I just can’t help it.

“I don’t know. Sometimes, I just think.. Like, maybe, you’d rather be with someone else. Someone prettier… Smaller.”

Realization dawned on him, having known about my struggles with myself. He’s always been supportive, caring, and encouraging. It’s just hard to love yourself sometimes.

He doesn’t say a thing, only pulls into a vacant parking lot on the side of the road. Once he’s parked, he stops and stares at me, again, not saying anything.

I began to feel a little nervous under his stare, fidgeting in my seat. Just as I’m about to open my mouth to say something, he swiftly lifts me up and places me on his lap. My cheeks heat up and I immediately try to lighten my weight for him. However, he notices and pulls me back down against him.

“You are beautiful.” He says, giving me a kiss. “You are amazing. You are phenomenal. You are perfect. I’m in love with you and everything about you.”

As he’s talking, his lips are going from my own to around my face and neck. His hands are grabbing all over me, hugging me and pulling me flush against him. I could feel him growing underneath me, and it only made my cheeks turn darker.

"I don't want some scrawny little girl, I want you. You may not like yourself, but I'm going to do everything I can to teach how to love yourself as much as I do. You’re perfect to me, princess.” He tells me, nothing but genuine love and adoration in his eyes.

I can't help but ask, "Why are you so nice?"

"I'm not nice. I'm honest, and you're deserving of it."

I only give him a small smile, then capture his lips in mine. His hands run from my waist, down to my thighs and around to cup my ass. My hands hooked around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer.

After just a moment of kissing, Matt pulls away. “Can you feel what you do to me?”

As he asks that, he repositions me, so I was now sitting on his full erection. His hard on was directly beneath my core, poking up into me through my shorts, the pressure feeling good on my clit.

"Let me show you." He speaks again, his mouth meeting my neck once more.

My head tilted to the side, giving him more access as he licked and nibbled on my skin. His hands continued to knead my ass, softly grinding me against his groin, soft whimpers leaving my mouth.

"You're so beautiful, baby. Even just the sound of you makes me want to cum." He whispers into my ear, goosebumps spreading across my skin.

"I love you." I whisper back, taking his lips in mine.

It was a sweet yet passionate kiss. We moved perfectly in sync, becoming one with each other. It was like we put every unsaid emotion and feeling into it, figuratively speaking through tongues. I was telling him he was everything and more to me. He was telling me he does and always will love everything about me.

Once we pulled away to catch our breath, he cupped the side of my face with his hand. I leaned into it as he stared into my eyes, both of us taking in each other's features. He leaned forward and placed another gentle kiss on my lips.

"Can I take this off?" He questions me, grabbing the hem of my shirt.

Instead of answering, I just swiftly pulled it over my head and tossed it onto my seat. Out of habit, I covered my stomach with my arms, already feeling a bit self-conscious.

With a frown on his face, he softly grabbed my wrists and pulled them away from me, revealing my stomach. His hands grabbed at my bare skin, fondling me sweetly. He slightly tossed his head back, groaning as he grinded me against him again. Looking back up, his arms reached around my bikini top and tugged the strings, untying them and letting it fall in between us.

"Fuck, you're so beautiful." He says, his hands cupping each boob and squeezing them.

My hands reached the bottom of his shirt, tugging at it so he could take it off. He does, then immediately pulls me against him, our warm skin flushing together. He places his left hand on my hip, his right hand going behind my head and bringing me closer.

"I wanna make love to you.” He whispers, his voice husky yet soft.

I couldn’t help the heat that spread across my cheeks, my stomach twisting and my core throbbing. Hearing him say that lit a fire in me that only he could put out.

I slightly lifted off of him as he scooted the seat back, and removed my bottoms after struggling a bit from the awkward position. We couldn’t help but laugh with one another, amused from our predicament. As I was adjusting myself, Matt pulled his swim trunks down to his knees, revealing his throbbing cock.

Once we both got settled, his dick was right under my pussy, begging to enter. Matt connects his lips with mine, and one of his hands finds it’s way between my legs while the other goes back and forth from teasing each nipple. His slender fingers poke and prod at my slit, slicking them with my arousal.

“Mm, so wet for me, princess.” He groans, tossing his head back.

“Feels good, baby.” I moaned back.

He slightly lifts me up and lines himself up with my entrance, letting me sink down on him as he rubs my clit with his thumb. Soft whimpers and moans leaving both of our moans at the feeling of each other.

One of his hands wraps itself in my hair, bringing my face closer to his so he could leave a trail of wet kisses down my jaw and neck. His other hand was rubbing up and down my back, before both of them ultimately landed on my ass as he helped me grind against him.

My hands hooked around his neck, my mouth meeting his as he guided me on his dick. Our tongues worked together, exploring each other so deliciously. I was in heaven right now, and from his heavy breathing and slight moans, so was he.

“You feel so good. I love you so fucking much.” He moans into my ear.

He held me so tightly, pulling my body impossibly closer as he thrusted up into me, soft and hard. I couldn’t help the lewd moans that poured out of me, feeling nothing but euphoric. He was fucking me so good, but it felt different than usual.

His hands continued to roam my body, grabbing at every roll and crevice, as if he couldn’t get enough of me. Seeing him indulge in my entire being made me feel so good about myself.

“I swear to god, I love every single thing about you. I could spend the rest of my life like this.” He says, his voice strained from pleasure.

“I love you so much, Matthew.” I moan out, clenching around him.

I could feel him twitching inside of me, indicating he was close. Our bodies were hot, glistening with sweat as we made love. The sounds of our heavy breathing and moans filling the atmosphere. It was all so sexy, I couldn’t help but feel even more turned on. And the fact that Matt was truly showing me he loved every part of me, made it a million times better.

“You’re so good to me, princess.” He moans out.

My face scrunches in pleasure, his praising sending me over the edge as I convulsed above him. My legs were shaking as I fell into him, my orgasm pushing through as I climaxed with a loud pornographic moan.

My finishing pushed Matt to his, his stomach tightening as his hips sputtered. He released his hot load into me, still continuing to push it deeper, filling me up. His voice cracked as he let out a string of moans, his forehead falling to my shoulder.

“Fuck. That was so good.” I gasped, trying to catch my breath.

“I just wanted to show you that I love you. All of you.” He tells me, his hands once again grabbing at every part of me.

“I love you so much, baby.” I respond, pulling him into me.

He peppered kisses all over my damp skin, from my shoulders, up my neck, and to my cheeks.

“Mine forever.”

—

a/n : yuhh, mid :( i just need some matt love idkidk. enjoy, send requests 🫶🏼 not proofread btw

#lustfulslxt #joss speaks #sturniolo triplets #the sturniolos #sturniolos #matt sturniolo #imagine #sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo #matthew sturniolo x you #matthew sturniolo x reader #fluff turned smut #one shot #requests open

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outlaw-apologist · 1 year

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How The Gang Comforts You After a Nightmare - (RDR2 HCs)

The gang comforting their S/O after they have a gruesome nightmare Characters: Arthur, Charles, Javier, Dutch, Hosea For @gonefiishiing 💕 Note: I’m SO sorry it took me forever to write this. I wrote half of this while I was sick so I hope it makes sense. If not I’ll happily re-write it 💕 AO3 Link Arthur: - When Arthur wakes up to your nightmares they trigger some nasty anxiety in him. He shoots awake, eyes darting around camp while his hand reaches for his gun. - When he realizes there’s no real danger he gently pets your hair in an attempt to calm you while also trying to settle his own beating heart. “Shhh sweetheart, there’s nothin’ to worry about.” - If you need to cry, Arthur will hold you and shield you from any of the gang members who might be looking your way. He rubs your back, drawing circles on your skin. He’s patient and gentle with you. - “Look at me. Hey, look.” He places your hand on his scarred face. “See? I’m the most real thing here. You ain’t got nothin to fear while I’m here, okay? I’ll beat up those nasty dreams for you. Just keep your eyes on me and breathe. There you go, that’s it.” Arthur talks you through breathing techniques, helping to ground you in reality. - Once you’re calm He’ll silently climb out of bed, grabbing something from his satchel. With a mischievous look on his face he climbs back into your shared cot and shows you two chocolate bars. “Look what I got.” He looks like a kid sneaking candy. Arthur didn’t eat candy often, so it amuses you that he looks thrilled. He pushes the chocolate into your hand and snuggles with you as you both indulge in your treats.

- “We can talk about it if you want?” If you decide to tell him about it he’ll listen to you patiently. If not, that’s okay. Arthur is perfectly happy cuddling and eating chocolate with you. - After awhile if you become tired again Arthur will move so that he’s laying on his back inviting you to sleep on his chest. “I’ll hold you so those nasty nightmares know they can’t fuck with you anymore. If they want to they need to go through me first.” He says playfully. He’ll even hum a tune for you. You can feel the vibration in his chest as you drift off. ____ Charles: - “Hey, hey it’s okay.” Charles approaches you the same way he would approach a spooked horse. Because… well he doesn’t have much experience with this kind of thing so he doesn’t really know how to react. - He offers you a cup of tea to calm your nerves. He doesn’t say much at first, allowing you to enjoy his company. Especially if you need time to wake up and process your nightmares. -After awhile Charles invites you on a walk. “The moon is full and the night is beautiful. Come walk with me. It might help your nightmares clear off.” He offers you his hand, carefully helping you out of bed. - “You know, I used to have night terrors too.” He’ll speak after awhile as you both admire the stars on your walk. “Long ago after I lost my mother. I felt helpless. As time went on I found strength within myself and they slowly went away. I know… It probably doesn’t help hearing that. But, uh, I want you to know you have strength. And when you don’t feel strong enough I hope you’ll turn to me so that I can be your strength in those moments. Maybe that will help.” He smiles gently. You can almost make out his blush in the soft midnight light. It was hard for Charles to summon the courage to say something so borderline romantic but you’re the one person who’s always worth the effort. - Despite this Charles is nervous you’ll have another bad dream. After returning to bed he stays up for the rest of the night to keep an eye on you. Maybe it was because of the hurt his own dreams used to cause, he doesn’t know. What Charles does know is that it breaks his heart to see you suffering so. ____ Javier: - You feel gentle rocking as Javier takes you into his arms. “Oh, mi amor, only good dreams.” He cooes, kissing your hair. - He nuzzled you, holding you while he lets you wake up. - “Tell me what frightened you.” His deep eyes search your face. Javier is an excellent listener. He’ll even ask for clarification on a few details. “I don’t know if this is helpful or not, but I too struggle with these things. I often see the man I killed back in Mexico. I don’t regret my decision and… I guess he’s trying to haunt me… I don’t know. But, every time I see him I simply take out my knife and threaten to do it again. It works every time. Maybe you can do that in your dream too?” - Javier will tuck you back into your bed roll then will get out his guitar. Softly he will sing you back to sleep - Even after you fall asleep he’ll pay with your hair. He’s afraid you’ll wake up scared again so he doesn’t take his eyes off of you until the sun comes up. ____ Dutch: - When you start having night terrors Dutch feels responsible for your comfort. He knows he’s the reason you’re waking up terrified at night. Reaching for him or screaming out. He pulled you into this life and now it’s weighing heavy on your mind. Dutch knows he should at least take responsibility for this. - “Darling-” He caresses your cheek with the back of his fingers, carefully waking you as gently as possible. “You poor thing. It’s alright, it’s only a dream.” Surprisingly tender he collects you into his arms. - If you want to talk about it he’ll listen carefully and deconstruct your dream for you in hopes that it’ll help you feel better. - “Nightmares are a way into our mind. They’re fears beyond our control, or so we think. We cannot fight nature, and we cannot fight life, but nightmares we can. You faced them bravely, my love. The only true fear that comes from our nightmares are the fear that we aren’t strong enough to prevail. Yet, here you are. You prevailed. And you’ll continue to do so.” He’ll be on that Evelyn Miller type beat. - After his very cool philosophical speech it’ll hit Dutch just how sleepy he is. Now that little bit of exhausted annoyance sets in. “Now, go back to sleep!” He huffs a little. Despite this he still holds onto you lovingly as he buries his face into your hair to honk mimimi for the rest of the night. _____ Hosea: - He’s no stranger to nightmares. Especially after all he’s seen and done. -Hosea gently plays with your hair to wake you, making sure the area is lit enough so you can recognize his face immediately. “It’s alright my sweet. I’m right here with you, okay?” - He simply lays with you as you try to gain your bearings. He doesn’t dare crowd you in case you prefer to have some space. Once Hosea has your permission he’ll gently move you to lay on his chest. - Reading to you in a soft voice, his tired eyes will wander to your face every few pages to make sure you’re doing alright. - He pays special attention to your breathing. If you’re breathing hard or fast he’ll whisper sweet nothings to calm you down. But if your breaths are slow as you fall back asleep he’ll become quiet, wanting you to rest as much as possible. - In the morning Hosea asks everyone to let you sleep in. He’ll make sure to ready a healthy breakfast and some coffee. - Sitting with you as you eat in bed, Hosea asks you if you want to talk about your dream. - “When my Bessie passed, I was terrified to sleep. I would dream of her. Horrible horrible dreams. Sometimes our minds create the greatest horrors. I just wanna let you know, if you ever need me it’s okay to wake me up. I’ll hold you, or get you anything you need. There’s not much I can do, but I’ll do what I can.”

#Arthur Morgan #Arthur Morgan x Reader #Charles Smith #Charles Smith x reader #dutch van der linde #Dutch van der linde x reader #javier escuella #javier escuella x reader #Hosea Matthews x reader #hosea matthews #rdr2 #RDR2 Headcanons #my writing

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mdr-writings · 7 months

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Streamer!Eren x reader pt.2

A/n: I'm sorry I took so long to get this part out. I was very busy with my classes, I had relationship problems, family issues, I was a hot mess. But after rewrite after rewrite I can finally put this out. How convenient that its on Final Aot day. Honestly, I'm also glad that I am putting it out today bc I'd rather be hot and bothered rather than sad and sobbing. Btw I am gonna fix the first part because I feel like it lacks a lot of things. If you still want to read it, it’s linked below

wc:4.3k

Part One

Cw: slight teasing of weight, oral ( fem receiving), overstimulation, heavy kissing

” So does Eren behave himself when he talks to you guys,” you ask the chat as you sat down on his lap.

“What? you know I always behave myself,” he cocks his head towards you grinning. “Sure you do,” you said rolling your eyes. You know that he rarely behaves himself when it comes to you. So, you could assume he’s the same in front of an audience. You point your finger towards the camera. “Look, seems like the chat knows you better than yourself.”

Eren’s attention shifts to the screen to see the chat flooding with comments siding with you. “It’ll be your own people huh?” you let out a quick chuckle while picking at your nails.

“Do you guys have anything you wanna ask her,” he questioned.

You speak up, “Yeah, you guys can ask me anything “. You didn't know where this sense of comfortability came from. Maybe it was Eren's aura or the way he communicates with his audience. It’s a possible reason as to why he has such a big following.

Eren has always been transparent about how he feels whether it’s about something or someone. The guy has a hard-on for conflict, but the way he is authentic with himself is admirable. “Anything?” Eren raises his eyebrows in amusement. The sound of a notification alert pops up on the monitor. A monotone robotic voice booms from the computer’s speaker” what is the freakiest thing you've done?”

“What do you mean?” you furrowed your eyebrows together. Of course, you were not going to show that side of you. Who do they think they were trying to ask a question like that? Perhaps you do tell them, then what? You become the biggest streamer’s slut? Smart remarks filled your head ready to be spat at the viewers. Though, integrity got the best of you and decided to remain quiet.

“Aww come on, you can’t let the audience down now” he teases. Eren begins soothingly stroking your thigh. As he strokes, he draws patterns of circles, leaving you to accidentally shudder in his grasp. He then intriguingly raises his eyebrows.

“Oh my god, I'm literally slipping off of you” you grab on both sides of his thighs to try to push yourself up. “Geez you’re like a fucking slip and slide, what did you do bath in, butter?” you mumbled. Eren looks down to your bottom half and notices your butt touching his knees. “It’s okay, I got you,” he murmured.

“Goddamn, you’re heavy as fuck.” You whipped your head to face him to strike him a glare. He then adjusts himself with you on top, making your bottom rub against his crotch. A low groan escaped his mouth. You felt heat brewing on your face.

“Uhhh let’s see, is there any more questions?” you ask desperately looking at the screen. “Y/n you didn't even answer the first one” he raised one eyebrow and lowered the other. You stop your internal thoughts as you once again feel a hot sensation on your thigh moving. You try not to acknowledge the hand with clear intentions of riling you up.

“You gotta toughen it out y/n.”

“Actually,” you start. Eren eyes shot up in interest. “I can recall, the time I... you know... to a professor in a class,” you stammer over your words. Instantly, a wave of regret crashes into you. Somehow you forgot Eren attends this same college and classes you take. You silently cursed at yourself.

“Oh?” Eren’s lips curled up into a smirk. “And who might that professor be?” he questioned. Learning this fun fact about your sexual deviances aroused Eren's curiosity. In a millisecond, your ear is set ablaze as pressed his Eren's lips against it. “Would that be Professor Erwin or Miche?” His warm breath brazes your ears which ignites a fire in your stomach. “Or maybe Professor Levi?” his hand slithered its way towards your inner thigh. Your legs quickly squeeze together in hopes to stop the throbbing that started between them. Luckily, Eren was just in time to snatch his hand away from the trap. Your face was twisted up in frustration.

This hasn’t been the first time that Eren has teased you. But this felt different, it’s almost as if you don’t want it to stop. The words he’s throwing at you don’t feel like feathers this time around. His hands on your thighs feel like it’s burning through your skin. The heartbeat in your core seems to pulsate harder and faster. You didn’t want it to stop but you were fighting to not look desperate.

Satisfied in your response, Eren clasped his hands together. “Alright I'm gonna end it right here make sure you share the stream with your friends, follow Y/n on her socials and repent, toodles” he sings. Eren leans over to hit a hotkey on his keyboard which he assumes ends his streams. He then swivels the knobs on the computer’s speaker on mute. He once again lays a hand on your thigh. You let out a short hum clearing your throat. He then leans back to take notice of your stiff position in his lap. Eren lightly squeezes your arm,” You, okay?”

“I’m fine,” you pull away from his grip. Eren can tell when he goes overboard. He could just make it up to you by buying your favorite food like he always does. But for once in his life, he would rather be mature and talk it through.

“Hey, I know this was your first time on here and I know it was a bit overwhelming,” he breathed. “I do apologize if I made you uncomfortable.”

“I said I’m fine Eren,” you raised your voice. Eren was taken aback by your sudden attitude towards him. His once loud and lively room was now clouded with silence. “I think we should head down now,” he placed his hands upon your plush waist. Gripping the chair handles, you turn around allowing your legs to lay against Eren’s waist. “I lost my appetite,” you whispered in monotone.

You couldn’t understand yourself as to why you suddenly opposed his suggestion. Wasn’t your main objection being to take him downstairs? You could just walk away from him and have that same gut-wrenching feeling in your stomach. But your body wouldn’t allow you to move. Something snapped, those times of playful bickering started to build a form of lust and desire. Maybe now was the time to reveal the real reason behind the constant squabbles.

“Y/n, I said I’m s-”

“You know,” you started. “Our little fights always end up leaving me confused,” your gaze pandered between his dark forest green eyes and plump lips.

From what you could remember, Eren constantly had some girl hooked up on him. Hell, he even got Mikasa wanting to try him out. But for some reason he could never really settle. His mind always seemed to wander to the same person, you. The squabbles could be played off as friendly but the feeling of wanting it to go further lingered. But as a result, it left you reaching for more, wanting him more.

Eren’s heart pounds loud against his chest. He always felt as if going further wasn’t an option. He had his moments where he just wanted to hold you so close, as if he would die if he let go. Moments where he wanted to make you his. Perhaps if he did the things he thought of doing to you, how would he face the friend group, what about his fans, and Mikasa? He decided that acting upon his true feelings towards you was too risky.

“We’re friends Y/N” he confirms, his eyes soften under your gaze. Your eyes then pondered around his room. “Is that all you want to be?”

He huffs out an air of defeat. The sound of the ventilation buzzing was consuming the room.

“I-I” he stuttered as the pounding of his heart was breaking his sternum. He raises a hand to cover his rose-colored face.” Y/n what’s the point of this,” he audibly muffles. You reach up to pry his hand away from himself and hold it in your palms.

“I’m doing what I feel is right to me,” you reply with reason.

As corny as it felt, you no longer had interest in letting the feeling of desire leave you again.

“So, antagonizing me is what feels right to you? “Yup, that sounds just like you,” he speculated. Your face drops into a frown,” No dumbass.” Your fingers hook in the crevasses of his. Eren scrunches his eyebrows together in uncertainty. “Then what?” You place your intertwined hands over your heart that was protected by your flesh. “Us” you replied in a hush tone. It seems like Eren’s face couldn’t get any redder. Your hands enclosed over his, touching your chest, it felt as if he were in his recurring dream. This time, he was hoping there would be no interruptions to wake him.

“Are you fucking with me,” Eren interrogated in disbelief. Your skin began to spread warmth to your face. “Yes, I mean... no but I want to- if you know what I mean,” you ran over your words frantically. Still not connecting the dots, Eren’s head cranks his head to the side. You inhale a shaky breath” I can’t believe I’m saying this but…”

“Eren, I like you,” you sheepishly state. It was as if you could hear a needle drop on the floor. To make matters worse, the screaming vents were now hushed. “Well?” you quizzed. His eyes darkened as he stared through your soul. Your heart tanked to the lowest part of your stomach. Your confession has left you embarrassed and empty handed with no response.

That same damn feeling.

Your frustration grew as you started to pull your legs away from his waist. A hand jumped out to grasp at your thigh pulling you closer. You jump at the sudden movement. “I want you to say it again.” You could feel your blood pressure rising by the second. He got some nerve to try to humiliate you. “Hey, I finally have the courage to tell you- “

“Y/n, I want you to say it again,” he repeats while his eyes were capturing your psyche. You silence yourself as you can sense his serious demeanor. His eyes were dissecting every part of your face.

“I like you,” you whispered.

Suddenly, you felt your lower half become weightless. Your arms quickly wrapped around his neck for security. Eren’s arms gripped the back of your thighs as he moved towards his bed. It was like time was strolling through Molasses. You begin to study his face. So, tense and stern as if it was in concentration to finish a task. Just minutes ago, you were just stopping by to send a message from your friends. Now you were in his bed waiting for his next move.

Dropping you onto the bed, he stands in front of you, sighing while his eye sweeps over your face. You bite your lips anxiously not wanting to make any other part of your body move. Once again, the room continues its loud humming.

“I try so hard to resist, but you always seem to reel me back in.” You remain still as your thoughts race in your head. “Do you not care about what people will say,” He harshly grips his biceps.

“No”

His jaw clenches tightly. Why couldn’t you understand how risky it is for the both of you? The possible backlash of his viewers that was also used to seeing Mikasa on the stream. Mikasa possibly being jealous that the two of best friends are entangled in each other’s arms. He thought of the many outcomes of the situation which were all negative.

“Why can’t we keep it a secret, nobody has to know,” you crossed your arms against your chest. Eren walks towards you, stopping close as your legs almost touched. He leans over, his face nearing to yours. His minted breath tickles your nose.

“Because Y/n, being around you, I can’t be secretive.” His closeness has you yearning, you crave him. Your eyes frantically search his, you could almost feel your heart jumping out your chest. Not waiting a second more, you crash your lips into his. Releasing years of tension and desire, you melt as your lips mesh together.

He loses balance as you pull him on top of you. Regaining his composure, he leans in closer to your face. You hastily reach up to grab a hand full of his locks, enclosing his hair in your fingers. Eren groans as your grip tightens. His groan sends millions of nerve shocks to your core. You let out a soft moan into his mouth. A sudden wave of clarity hits you as it feels like you haven’t gotten his full approval. A quick smack could be heard as you pulled away from his lips.

“Are you okay with this, we can stop,” you inquire trying to steady your breathing. Eren chuckles as if your question were nothing but a joke. “I don’t think now is the right time to start asking questions.” You smile brightly leading him back to your lips. He then pushes harder into the kiss making you needlingly whine.

He begins tugging at your bottom lip with his teeth. He sweeps his tongue in between your lips, exploring your warm mouth. You lower your hands towards his pants, rubbing his hard print. Eren quickly pulls away from your mouth while pushing you back flat against his bed.

He now feels the temperature of the room increasing by the minute. He pulls the hem of his shirt over his head. Your eyes scan his toned body as he studies yours. He decides he wasn’t going to be the only one shirtless. “Arms up,” he commands you. You lift your arms over your head as he pulls your shift off. Now bare breasted you cover yourself up. “Don’t be shy now, should I cover mine too,” he joked covering his tanned nipples. You let out a short giggle, rolling your eyes revealing your chest. Eren smiles as he trails his lips down towards your breast.

You shiver as you feel his tongue leave hot kisses on its journey down south. He latches on to your hardened nipple, sucking and licking as he flicks the other in his hand. You jolt up panting from his touch. The sounds of you moaning tighten the grip of print in his pants. “Eren” you whimpered; your core was leaking more of your slick.

“Feels good?” he asked with a labored breath. “Mmhm,” you moaned. His fingers began to run up and down the sides of your legs. Your head grew hot and dazed, the warmth of his touch scorched your skin. He then lowers his head to peck your thighs leading down to your heated core. Your heart rate spiked as you knew these course of events officially change everything about your relationship with him. Eren’s eyes reach yours to ask to continue. You harshly swallow the hard ball of saliva stuck in your throat.

You then nod your head while swiping your tongue on your lips as the heat made them chapped. Your legs felt a strong pull as thighs were raised to the sides of your stomach. Swiftly, your panties were snatched away from your body. Then you look down to see his head ducked below your thighs. A wet long stripe swiped across your lower lips. Your legs quickly try to shut but eren’s reaction time was faster, catching them in his hands.

“You want me to stop?” He asks. You shook your head side to side in desperation for him to continue. “Then keep still, ‘kay?”

“Okay,” you responded.

Settling back in between your thighs, you felt another long stripe now on your folds. “Oh fuck,” you cried. Your breath was hitching, you felt air being sucked out of your lungs. Eren could felt his cock get more sensitive as he rubs it against his pants. He towards the top of your pussy and puckered his lips around your needy bud, giving it several pecks.

“Oh my god, “ you moaned loudly. Your hands were clawing at your chest not having another place to settle. The sensation was overwhelming your body, the heat from the room and his mouth set you aflame. You felt a long intrusion prodded at your sopping hole, entering you slowly. You let a high-pitched squeal as you squeeze your eyes shut. Eren gazed up at your face turning in satisfaction. He lets out groan around your hard bud buzzing it into more pleasure.

“Yes, right there,” you screamed out. Eren works his fingers harder and deeper into your hole. Stretching and curling his long digits. The squelching of your dripping core and screams echoed around the room. Eren began to feel the grip of your walls tighten and loosening, letting him know you were close to your speedy climax.

“Eren, more please,” you needily whined pushing yourself closer to his face. He then removed his fingers and plunged his tongue into your hot core, swirling it around. Once again glancing up, he peeks at your pleasured face, lips falling into a perfect “o”. His fingers start to circle around your clit. Your feet curl up and down over his broad shoulders. While soaking and scavenging your hole, he brushed over a small plush button. Your thick arousal dripped on to his black satin sheets leaving a damp puddle underneath you.

You gasp hard as you arched your back off the bed. He smirks as he hits the sensitive spot over and over. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as your stomach clenched. “I’m gonna cum,” you panted wearily. You felt his pace on your bud and hole quicken faster than before. He presses deep into you, numbing the spot that weakened your senses.

“Ahhh, yess” you hiss in despair. The band in your stomach begins to ripple harshly. He pinches your clit tightly in between his fingers, yanking the nerves upwards. In an instant, your walls clench and stutter profusely. Panting and crying out, as Eren decides to rub you through your orgasm making you whine in pain.

“Eren, no more, please!”

He shushes you while enthusiastically applying more pressure on your bud. The sensation of you needing to release again ached you. Fluids suddenly began spurting from your overstimulated cunt. You cry out as drool seeping out your gaping mouth.

“goooood girl,” he praises you, slowly drawing circles on your clit. As your breath settles, he slowly removes his fingers from you. Looking over, he presents his dampen fingers to you. “You might wanna get a- “

Eren slipped the wet digits into his mouth, licking and slurping your juices from his hand. Blood drained from your face as you watched him pop his fingers out of his mouth. He smiles at your astonished reaction.

“You taste good,” he smirked. “Shut up!” you angrily yelled. He then began moving closer towards you.

“Wanna try?”

“Eren, I swear to god, get away from me,” you shouted grabbing the covers from underneath to protect you. “Come here~” he teases. He quickly makes his way to your side while cackling. You shriek, a gasp of wind grazes you as he rips the blankets away from your bare body.

“NO,” you scream out as his face is inches away from yours. Eren halted his body from moving further. “You actually don’t want to try it?” he questions. You slightly turn your head away from his deep green eyes.

“Well, I- uhm”, you nervously stammer out. Eren softly smiles at your demeanor in enjoyment, “it’s embarrassing,” he finishes for you.

“It’s embarrassing,” you shyly confirm while nodding your head. His fingertips rest at the bottom of your face, tenderly pushing it back to face him. Your eyes attach to his, occasionally shifting to his plump lips. “Listen, I’m not gonna force you,” he assures.” But it was funny watching you scream,” his dimple forms on his cheeks as he breaks out in laughter. You frown in humiliation but soon, bits of giggles spill from your mouth. Your joined laughter filled your bodies with happiness, neither you nor he wanted it to fade into the abyss.

Eren laughter dies out as he focuses once again on your face. His thumb reaches your lips, gently brushing over them. Your eyes saturated with temptation, inching closer to his warm lips. He understood your command, closing the thin gap between the both of you, your mouths gracefully settled on each other. You could feel your chest twist and twirl in excitement.

Could it be love? No, no, that’s a tad bit heavy to use the L word on the same day of your confession. It felt too light label it as a crush. Whatever it was, bonded the cracks of your heart that formed each day that came before this one.

Letting the kiss linger a second longer, you could taste a reminisce of a sweet and tangy flavor on his mouth. You pulled back from him allowing a sigh to slip out, “I wanna try it,” you confessed. Eren’s eyebrows slanted in confusion, “You already did”.

“No, I did- OH!” You shouted covering your mouth. You jokingly smacked your lips together to taste yourself again, “you’re right I don’t taste bad”. Eren smiles at your blatant wittiness, it’s one of the things he most admires about you. The quick jabs you throw at him and the rest of the group, it seems he’s the only one who manages to keep up.

The mention of the group assisted in his daze to drift to the main purpose of you being here. “Y/n, we should probably head down now, it’s been while since you left them”. You slid your shirt over your head as you hummed in agreement. He follows your lead and begins to put his shirt on.

Time seems to pass on fast, in a span of minutes you were introduced and teased on his stream, let out your confession and allowed the man you have been eyeing out on for years to devour you.

“Dammit,” you stoop down to look under his bed. “What are you looking for”, he inquires also tilting his head down. Your hands blindly wander under his bed frame, “I can’t find my underwear”. The constant slapping of your hand against his floor was tiring and the lack of light in his room didn’t help with your searching.

“Oh, you mean these”, your head turns up towards the brunette boy. His hands hold the panties, balled up and enclosed under his fingers. You stride towards him quickly as he grins, eyeing your exposed lower parts.

“Eren, give it to me,” you warned sternly. He backs up raising the panties behind his head, “it was so good you’re begging for more huh?” he taunts.

You angrily step closer to him, “Eren!” you gritted your teeth. “I don’t know I think it’ll kind of be exciting to free ball it, don’t you think”, he laughs still steps backwards.

“Fuck you,” you angrily retort.

“Ah, we’ll get to that another time, don’t wanna be too needy”.

Finally reaching him, you stare with dagger in your pupils. Not a peep could be heard as he stares back with levity, seeing this as nothing but fun. Your eyes shift between the parallel green ones, fury congests your stomach. Eren fights the urge to grab your face and push your soft lips on his.

“Whatever”, you huffed out in defeat, going to put your shorts back on. He smiles lightly, retreating his prize into his top dresser drawer. You make your way towards his door ready to exit but something still nagged at your thoughts.

“Eren, what is this now”, you questioned in concern. He slides the band out of his hair, making the brown locks frame his face and shoulders. “You mean, what’s going on between us,” he asks with vagueness. “Mmhm” You hummed wanting him to continue.

“Oh yeah, your mine for sure”, he carelessly raked his fingers through his tresses. You felt heat flash across your cheeks, flustered by the fact that you were now in his possession.

Eren then bites the band while gathering his hair into one fist in the back of his head. The back side of his biceps strained; veins flexed as his grip tightened on his hair. You stare at the voluptuous muscles that fought against his flesh. The boy finally places the band in his other hand then ties it into a somewhat presentable bun.

“Even in front of them”, you questioned referring to your joined friend group. The door was now ajar, the light of the hallway bled into his room making the luminesce shine on your body. “We’ll talk more later, let’s eat,” he mumbled nodding his head into the lit-up hall. You whispered a quick “okay” as you made your way out and soon, he follows right after.

Darkness had absorbed every spec of light in the room, except one blinking spot of red on Eren’s desktop.

⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢୨୧⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢ ⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢୨୧⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢

“And I even got the chance to hold one”, Armin boasted proudly. The other remaining friends gathered around the table excited to hear about Armin’s oceanic studies. Food was placed on the counter waiting to be consumed, mainly waiting to be consumed by Sasha as she anxiously stared at the thinning steam that rose from the pot.

“Don’t you think that’s a bit dangerous to only be for a general research assignment”, Jean asks in genuine concern for the blond. “No, not at all”, Armin answers while swiping between photos on his phone of the sea animal he held. Jean sighs in defeat, what a way to be reckless for an extracurricular class.

Mikasa sat in between the 2 blondes, patiently waiting for you and eren’s arrival. She pondered at clock resting against the wall. It’s ticking reminding her every second and minute goes by without the appearance of her 2 friends up the stairs.

“It’s going on fifteen minutes now”, she informs the group. “I'm sure they’ll be down in a sec”, armin reassured while glancing at the time on his phone.

“Yeah whatever, who’s idea was to wait for him anyway”, the food fiend groaned. Armin and Mikasa accusingly pointed their fingers towards Jean. “ I thought it would be a nice way of gathering together”, his face painted in pink.” “Mama’s boy”, Sasha muttered under her breath.

“ Hey, I heard that! ”

Connie, too consumed by his phone to engage in conversation decided to do a check up on his socials. Twitter was the first choice, he laughed obnoxiously at a couple of tweets from people he followed closely. Afterwards, he viewed the current top 10 trending topics.

Elon Musk, a copycat.

Megan thee Stallion, she can step on me.

One Piece Live action, mid.

Jaegermeister exposed, about damn time.

It wouldn’t be surprising if eren did a tip slip, that wouldn’t be the worst thing he could’ve done. Connie, not anticipating the unexpected, lazily pressed the bolded subhead. Automatically, the top video began to play out, his breathing came to a sudden pause; pupils dilated in shock.

“No way”

Tagged:

@sofamochi @bootlegroach @nafi-2004

#eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader #aot x reader #mdrwritings #eren jaeger #eren yeager #eren aot

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laithraihan · 7 days

Note

now i’m kinda curious to hear what you think of proshipping.. if you don’t mind of course

I'll share my thoughts, and if theres anything I say that doesnt make sense feel free to point it out to me because I mostly write with the help of a translator. Under the cut because I wrote too much stuff.

TLDR: proshippers hate me because I dont want to look at glorified depictions of pedophilia/incest/etc, antis hate me because my content isnt 100% sanitized. I stay around anti circles because I find it slightly easier for me to talk about my headcanons with them even though I think they can be insufferable.

So the thing about proshipping. From what I've seen it means being "anti-harassment" and being in support of curating your online experience, which sounds great on paper and that's practically what I do. I have over 3k accounts blocked on my personal twitter to navigate the website more easily and I also dont care if someone blocks me if they dont like my stuff.

Except proshippers never consider me a proshipper because I am uncomfortable with viewing glorified depictions of topics like pedophilia, incest, rape, all that stuff. The same way people are uncomfortable with excessive blood and gore (which I also can't really handle seeing). Whether or not it's always easy to tell if it's glorified is an entirely different topic, which is precisely why I stay away from all depictions in general to avoid being intrusive.

And what's interesting is that I do not label myself an "anti". Mainly because I don't even know what the term "anti" is supposed to mean ("anti-" what exactly. Genuinely please tell me because I actually dont know) But the ones who label themselves "proship" always call me an anti, because again I do not wish to engage with content related to pedophilia etc, and that alone apparently enough to be considered "a person who harasses others over fiction" even if I mind my own business and have no interest in forcing my personal tastes on others, especially if they make it clear that they wont change their mind. Which makes me believe that for a lot of self-identified proshippers, the definition of being "proship" would be more similar to "I love fucked up stuff and if you dont then youre lame and it obviously means you can't tell the difference between fiction and reality" which honestly seems like insecurity to me.

Forgive me for bringing up this up once again but I want to mention an example to make it easier for me to explain: yknow the whole thing with me drawing Minori and Reigen and labelling it "non-cp" which caused a wave of both self-identified antis and proshippers harassing me over that (I'll say that proshippers were more bold about it since the antis harassing me were all anonymous). Proshippers saw me saying "I dont ship that" and interpreted it as me being defensive and in denial, as if I said "guys I swear Im an anti !!! please dont think im a proshipper !!! ", when I meant "I dont want to discuss this with others in a shipping manner because thats not how I see it and I dont want to enter a space Im not comfortable with"

I admit I responded to this situation in a petty manner, but this was after several days of harassment done directly in my inbox and publicly (sometimes I wish yall remembered that group chats and priv accounts exist). My point is that simply saying you don't like seeing pedophilia in fiction is enough for proshippers to believe it's justified for them to harass you over it (and I'm fully aware they'll say it's not harassment, only when antis and "puriteens" do this to them then it's harassment)

Now about the anti side. Don't get me started on them either. If proshippers see me as an enemy then this must mean that I always get along with the ones who call themselves "antis" (I do not). Note that Im only talking about adults here, I dislike beefing with children and I think their feelings about this are entirely reasonable (I'll elaborate on this when talking about internet safety)

But anyways. I think a lot of adults are discourse-brained and do way too much. Im thinking of nonsense like "this ship is problematic because they are 'sibling-coded' so thats basically incest" "siblings giving each other a hug gives me proship vibes" things of that nature. And you're not allowed to do anything that even has the smallest possibility of being interpreted as "problematic", because then they'll harass you for it, and if you clarify your intentions, they expect you to apologize for "misleading" them because clearly they didnt do anything wrong by making assumptions about you.

There's almost no room allowed for creativity with them, everyone has to follow fanon because they consider it canon, if you ever want to try something other than the same boring domestic fluff then it's "too much" (and not even platonic affection is acceptable to draw in certain cases). Which is incredibly fucking boring to me who wants to see different types of content. People even said I was enjoying incest for drawing Reigen selfcest, and that I was "making others uncomfortable" by drawing it. Genuinely seems to me that they only care about moral superiority, that they never think about anything in depth, and I dont think they realize that it also shows in what they create: boring and repeated fanart and headcanons where the only thing you can say about it is "thats cute", nothing more because you saw it ten billion times already. You cant draw two people showing platonic affection that absolutely nobody would bat an eye if it happened in real life, you cant discuss something specific in more depth without people saying you have a fetish for it, and then they'll harass you based on their speculation that it's a fetish. I dont think many realize this, but fandoms are full of autistic people, so it's normal to see people who are interested in very specific things that dont make sense to others! I wish people were less judgmental, but at the same time I dont care if people think Im weird. I think what I mean is theres no reason to mistreat weird people who do no harm to others.

So yeah if you call yourself an "anti" I'll assume youre spend too much time engaging in fandom discourse and you're the type of person to believe that fanart where two people are holding hands is the equivalent to drawing them fucking each other. Which I think is a very childish mindset to have and it's worrying that many adults think this way. I also think that as an adult they should be capable of blocking stuff they hate instead of constantly arguing with people online because at this point it's just mental torture.

The thing about internet safety I mentioned earlier, I'd say this is the one thing that I'll always prioritize discussing whenever proship discourse comes up.... To put it simply: filter and limit the visibility of your content, do not put triggering stuff in the main tags, stay in your own circles. Whether or not you believe fictional rape/pedophilia/etc is bad is irrelevant, my point is that these are objectively triggering topics and should be filtered just like how there are warnings for violence and blood even if it's not real.

"But it's the parents' responsibility to control what kids look at online, this has nothing to do with me!" and I agree with the parents being the ones Primarily responsible. However the reality is that children are online and there's nothing you can do to stop it from happening. Kids will also enter spaces theyre not allowed in, theyre children and children are rebellious especially teenagers, I was like this as a teenager too. You'd be lying if you said you were always obedient since childhood and never did anything you were told Not to do. And you can't really expect teenagers to always block and not interact if they see something triggering. It's your responsibility to block them if they interact with you, because what I see most of the time is adults bickering with teenagers who are uncomfortable, calling them "puriteens", putting them on blast and allowing other adults including NSFW accounts to dunk on them.

Humiliating and degrading teenagers does not "teach them a lesson", it only makes the teenager more stubborn and reactive. Adults must accept that kids will always find their way in there even if your content isnt easily accessible. So I think it's stupid to feel offended at a child because they got upset when they found upsetting content like how any normal child would react. Which is why I wish more adults would keep blocking without saying anything petty to provoke teenagers.

Before someone pancake-waffles me and says "so youre fine with antis doxxing people" no I do not support doxxing. Ive been doxxed so I know it sucks. However the only times Ive seen it go this far is after continuous arguing because nobody knows when to stop. Im not saying this applies all the time nor am I saying doxxing is fine, but there are ways to minimize this sort of outcome as much as possible. Both sides have doxxed people over petty arguments that couldve easily been avoided if they just blocked each other and moved on.

The topic above (internet safety) is probably the only thing related to this where Im actively telling others what they should be doing. It's not only teenagers who are triggered by depictions of pedophilia etc but also adults like myself. In my case Im old enough to block content I dislike without saying a word, however I cant help but think that there's not enough being done about filtering especially when I do not search for this type of content and I still see it all the time.

I also think it's important for me to mention that I have a very poor sense of morality. I do not have a personal moral code that I adhere to, and I mostly stick to the basic universal ones that make sense to me. So I will not discuss the "morals" of consuming this stuff because I am not adequate to share an opinion on this, and I know the most popular topic of discussion related to proship discourse is morality which I frankly find counterproductive. I dont understand why people should care so much if I find something morally correct or not, unless it's to make themselves feel better about having a "superior opinion" to mine. Though I will say that if a man tells me he's into rape "but only in fiction!" then I dont think it will stop me of imagining myself bashing his skull repeatedly with large rocks. Maybe Im too mistrustful of men in general.

Final point I want to clarify is that I am not trying to assert some sort of superiority over people by disliking both sides, like saying "Im not an anti or a proshipper Im a Normal person" or something like that, and Im not expressing a "neutral" stance on the topic of fiction's influence on reality either. There are topics like racism and orientalism in fiction that Im vocal about (which is expected since Im Algerian). I genuinely believe there are many things that are interesting to discuss and should be prioritized, but too many people are chronically online, subjective and defensive, at this point I dont even think it's accurate to say that disliking one side automatically means you support the other side regarding fiction. To me, "proship discourse" is not about the debate of the effects of fiction on reality, censorship in media, etc. It's about everything I described earlier that happens online.

#asks #hopefully this doesnt start anything bad

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thebiggerbear · 2 months

Text

i need your hand but i don't want to burn it part 1 - Beau Arlen x Reader

A/N: Not going to lie, this past month has been a tough one for me. I recently lost someone and it just sucked all of the energy out of me for writing or anything else. I started this back on Feb 16th, within hours of receiving the news, because I was trying to process it as well as my feelings on it all. Beau was in my mind from the very beginning because like I mentioned before, I literally had the thought "Man, I could go for a Beau hug right about now." So this took form and even though I was blocked on everything else, this became a sort of tool of processing for me. I was going to keep this just for myself because I found it to be deeply personal, but then I thought, well, what if someone out there is also currently grieving someone they lost and a little Beau comfort might make them feel better, too? Even in this scenario? So that's why I'm sharing it.

While it is personal what I go into, I changed up things to keep it fictional and sort of tell a story. So the characters and dynamics are fictional, just not the feelings of the reader and the emotional journey/grieving process she goes through if that makes sense.

Unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine. I attempted the graphics.

Please do not do any of the above. Thank you for your understanding.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Song that randomly came out of nowhere and strangely worked was "broken" by Jonah Kagen. The lyrics just really hit home for me.

Warnings: mention of death; death notification

Word Count: 8587

Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187; @rieleatiel

Beau Taglist: @deans-spinster-witch; @birdiellie; @heartlessdelusions; @nancymcl; @illicithallways; @muhahaha303

It was a bright, sunny day when you got the news. The sky was this unimaginable shade of blue, not a cloud in the sky, and the temperature was a comfortable one. You were on the job and the slight breeze ruffled through your hair when you saw that your aunt was calling you. A knot immediately formed in your stomach; if she was calling you, that couldn’t be good. And sure enough, it wasn’t.

“She’s gone,” she informed you matter-of-factly.

It took a moment for your brain to catch up to what she was telling you. “What?”

“She’s gone, Y/N. Happened this morning.” Again, her tone was bland, as if she was simply telling you a package had been delivered to your home.

“How?” Your mind felt as if it was running in circles but also slowing down at the same time.

Poppernak’s head snapped in your direction but you immediately walked away from the scene. You didn’t notice the deputy watch after you and then head in Hoyt’s direction.

“Stroke.” Your aunt was only willing to give you one word but that one word changed your entire world. It altered the landscape of your universe in a big way.

You nodded, forgetting that the woman couldn’t see you, and you felt a lump start to form in your throat. You forced your gaze onto some trees ahead and mentally told yourself that you would not cry. “Oh,” you choked out. So much for not allowing any emotion to bleed through.

“Yep.”

Once again, very bland, almost dry. You weren’t surprised, though. It had always been like this between you. “Um…did they say when the services will—”

“Nothing’s set in stone yet but the information will be on the obituary online. It’ll probably tell people who can’t make it where to send flowers.” And just like that, the digs began.

You ignored her attitude and quietly cleared your throat. “Okay,” you attempted to smooth over. “I’m so sorry, Aunt Ida. If there’s anything you need, please call m—”

“Oh, I’ll call you, don’t you worry. But right now, as it stands, we’re good. I have to get going. I still have to get to the funeral home and make all the arrangements. I’ll be talking to you soon.” Before you could say goodbye, she hung up.

You let out a heavy sigh before lowering your phone from your ear. You focused on the trees once more, pushing any thoughts away and stuffing your emotions back down. When you felt confident enough that you wouldn’t break, you turned to find Hoyt and Poppernak watching you worriedly from near the crime scene tape. You sighed once more and then began your walk over to answer the burning questions they appeared to have.

You were driving back home on autopilot, lost in a sea of memories that forced a single tear out onto your cheek every now and then, prompting you to wipe each one away quickly. Your phone began to ring and as you expected, Beau’s name popped up. Well, that had to be some kind of record for Hoyt. Though, you supposed in these circumstances, you couldn’t blame her and you could appreciate her difficult position. She was only supposed to call Beau if there was an emergency but if she didn’t let him know that she sent you home for the rest of the day after receiving the news of a loved one’s passing, then she’d most likely be in hot water. In trouble with you or in trouble with Beau? It wasn’t hard to see why she made the choice she did.

Beau was on vacation and you hated for that to be interrupted, especially due to this. He worked his ass off every single day and he deserved this time. He had offered to take Cassie and Kai fishing and camping, after the date passed that the two were supposed to have gone with her dad who had been killed. Kai was excited and Cassie was grateful when Beau made the offer. You and Hoyt were happy for them. Beau had even tried to entice Emily to fly up for a visit and go with them, but Carla put a quick stop to that with the mention of school and it being Emily’s senior year. To say Beau had been disappointed was a massive understatement.

And now, he was most likely spending his time worrying about you alongside teaching Kai how to catch trout and attempting to keep Cassie laughing and her spirits high. You almost didn’t answer, because you didn’t want to be one more thing he had to worry about and also because you didn’t feel like talking, but in the end you did. To reassure him if for nothing else.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” he greeted back, sounding worried just like you had predicted. “You okay?”

You briefly closed your eyes in annoyance at Hoyt. Despite your initial understanding, this really wasn’t something she needed to call him about. Someone else, yes, but for you, no. “Yeah, I’m okay,” you reassured him. “Hoyt just thought it best that I take the rest of the day, clear my head, and come back fresh tomorrow. That’s all.”

A moment of quiet passed between you as he likely mulled over your answer. Accepting it, he then offered, “Do you need anything?”

You cleared your throat to keep the lump at bay. “Nope. Thanks, though.”

“If you don’t mind my asking, who passed?”

You pressed your lips together, not really wanting to answer, but he’d find out eventually. “My grandmother.”

Sure enough, his tone softened. “I’m so sorry, Y/N.” He knew how deeply this one would cut.

You swallowed past the lump again and forced out quietly, “Thanks, but it’s fine. It was expected at some point, you know?”

“Yeah. Doesn’t make it any easier though, does it?” Beau lost his parents back when you had worked together in Houston. His dad had passed unexpectedly due to a heart attack. Everyone had been shocked, of course, but it hit Beau’s mom the hardest. It wasn’t too long after that when she started developing her own health issues and began declining. Beau’s father had only been gone for a year and a half when he lost his mom as well. You and your unit were there for him, giving him your unending support, and half of the department had showed up to the funeral, just as they had the senior Mr. Arlen’s. Not only was Beau well liked and respected but his family were no strangers to law enforcement; his dad had served on the force for decades before he finally retired.

What you were feeling now in no way rivaled the loss he had endured back then. He not only had lost a parent, but he lost both in a short time frame. You couldn’t imagine how you would be feeling had that been you. You doubted you would be able to stand up much less continue to function day to day like he had. You wished you could borrow some of his strength, something you could use right about now.

“True.”

Another moment of quiet filled the car tainted by uncertainty and an almost alien awkwardness. That wasn’t the norm for the two of you but this situation also wasn’t the norm. Being your best friend and having known you for a long time, Beau knew some of your history but not all of it. What little you had told him had been enough for him to know this wasn’t a topic you liked to revisit and he needed to leave well enough alone. So he’d happily compensate and regale you with funny stories of the hijinks he and his brother used to get up to when they were younger instead. He didn’t push for more than you were willing to give and that was something you deeply appreciated about him.

And right now, you appreciated him even more for not pressing you for details or trying to make small talk around the huge elephant that was currently sitting on top of you. An elephant in the form of your grandmother, an elderly woman who helped raise you who you had a…complicated relationship with to say the least. You tried to think back to one of the last times you had seen her but you really couldn’t remember. The memory was there somewhere, on the edge of your mind, just out of reach. Instead, a memory resurfaced of a younger you holding onto her hand as you crossed a busy crosswalk in the city, wearing one of your best dresses with tights, shoes, a very proper coat with gold buttons done up, and a ribbon in your long hair. You had been on your way to see a play that she managed to get tickets for and you remembered that moment of her immediately shielding you as a car nearly hit you both, ignoring the traffic light as well as all of the pedestrians crossing. You couldn’t remember the heated exchange between her and the driver of the yellow cab, but you did remember her hurrying you to safety and then kneeling down to check that you were okay. You could see the determination in her light eyes shadowed by a layer of fear as she did up the top two buttons of your fancy coat and smoothed a hand down your hair. She had protected you and basically saved your life. The memory shocked you with its reappearance; you hadn’t thought about that one in a long time. You had to have been around six years old when that happened.

Beau cleared his throat quietly. “Listen, I’m on my way back.”

That jerked you out of your reverie. “What? No, Beau, don’t. I’m fine. You’re on vacation and so is Cassie. Kai was excited to go on this trip, don’t cut it short. I appreciate it but I’d rather your plans didn’t get interrupted.”

“I already talked to Cassie and she’s in agreement. We’re heading back. She talked to Kai and he understands. We’re going to try this again next month.”

The guilt was thick inside your chest. He had been trying for a while now to get Cassie to agree to a fishing trip with him, and he’d only just convinced her. “Beau…”

“Already done,” he assured you. “We’re packing up now actually. Besides, you’re going to need some time and Hoyt’s going to need backup.”

“I told you, I’m fine and I’ll be back to work tomorrow. You don’t have to—”

“You’re going to need the time for the services. Any idea on when they might be yet?”

You pressed your lips together and glanced in your rearview mirror. “Not yet.”

He heard what you weren’t saying. “Well, it just happened. Give ‘em some time and they’ll sort it out,” he offered gently.

“Yeah,” you muttered.

“You set up a flight yet?”

You shook your head, forgetting for a moment that he couldn’t see you. “No.”

“I should be back later tonight. I’ll come over and help you sort all of that out.”

It hit you in that moment that Beau was going to be seeing you in a few hours’ time. A part of you was relieved but another part of you wasn’t ready to let him in just yet. Not that you didn’t trust him (he was the person you trusted most actually) and not that he didn’t know how to be there for you, but something was stopping you from letting him.

“You’re going to be back late. How about you just stop by in the morning on your way to the office?”

You didn’t need to see Beau to know he was taken aback at your suggestion. “It’s not going to be that late,” he tried again. “I was thinking, if you didn’t mind, I could just stay at your place for the night. It’d be a shorter drive for me to the station tomorrow.”

You knew it would be and you knew he was just looking out for you, being there for you should you need him, but weirdly, that was the last thing you wanted right now. “I appreciate it, but it’s going to be a long drive and you still need to drop Cassie off. I’ll look up flights when I get home. You just focus on driving and let me know when you made it back okay.”

“Y/N—”

“Someone is calling me from a New York number. It could be important. I have to go. Drive safe, alright?”

“Darlin’, just—”

“Thank you for calling, Beau. It means a lot.” You meant that last part, you really did. You quickly disconnected the call before he could speak again. There was no call from New York, of course, and you know he knew that, but you just needed a second to think. You put your phone on silent and continued the drive to the small house you had put a down payment on when Beau had convinced you to move here to join him about a year or so before.

You ran a hand through your hair and sighed, feeling majorly conflicted. You wanted nothing more than one of Beau’s comforting hugs but at the same time, you didn’t want to be touched or comforted. You didn’t want anyone’s awkward condolences like Hoyt had offered you earlier after Poppernak told her you might have received some kind of bad news. You didn’t want to talk or cry or try to distract yourself from reality in any way, shape, or form. You wanted to just be.

And considering where you would be flying to in the next twenty four hours, you needed as much time to process and compartmentalize as you could get.

There was no processing or compartmentalizing happening. Your brain was a chaotic mess at best. Your thoughts were all over the place, same with your emotions, and yet somehow you still felt numb and in shock.

Not only did memories play on a loop inside your head but you could not form one single coherent thought. You had walked past your full sink of dishes at least four times before you remembered you were going to stack them in the dishwasher. You had to remind yourself that you hadn’t eaten breakfast that morning, preferring your usual coffee, and you had to eat something now that it was late afternoon so you could satiate the loudly rumbling hungry beast known as your stomach. You barely tasted the food or the beer you chose to wash it down with.

At some point, you had pulled out a shoebox you kept carefully hidden away in a closet and began to go through old photos you kept stashed alongside a few Christmas and birthday cards over the years. You studied your grandmother in each photo and whether it was a blessing or a curse, you weren’t sure which yet, you could hear her voice and even her laughter in your mind. You could hear her yelling, too, but your brain pushed those memories away, knowing you weren’t ready to deal with that just yet.

You came across one picture of the two of you. You were in high school and had just received an award. You two were standing outside of the school and neither of you were embracing or smiling too widely. One of your aunts had asked you both to take the picture, to mark the special occasion, but the truth was, you two had been arguing most of the day, practically up until the ceremony. Just one of the many arguments you both had over the years where you didn’t see eye to eye.

You dug deeper into the box until you pulled out a special group of photos in an envelope. You took a sip of beer, a deep breath, and then opened it. These were pictures of your parents, gone in a freak accident when you were barely kindergarten age. You smiled down at the photos of the two of them with a baby version of you. No matter where you were or who took the picture, all of you appeared to be happy. Sadly, you didn’t remember those times too much, the memories too hazy and existing on that fine line between reality and fantasy. You only remembered the sorrow, the pain, and the devastation their sudden absence left.

You came across a photo of you and your mother, but this time, your grandmother was also included. You must have been two years old and you were grinning widely from your mother’s lap at the older woman who smiled brightly back at you. You had even reached out your hands to her, almost as if you had been asking her to pick you up. You stared hard at the picture, almost as if trying to remember that exact moment in time so you could then remember the feeling.

Your phone ringing loudly made you jump and jerked you out of your concentration. You placed the photo down and sighed. You had put your phone back on when you arrived home a few hours ago and though he hadn’t called, Beau had sent you a few texts. It was more of him offering to come over, to be there for you, and to help with anything you needed. You had immediately swiped the notifications off of your screen; you couldn’t deal with that or anything else right now. You appreciated it but you just needed some time…some space actually. Just until you could get your head on straight.

You picked your phone up and glanced at the screen, surprised to see your cousin’s name flashing back at you.

Your brows furrowed and you immediately picked up the call. “Lucy? What’s wrong?”

“Hey,” she greeted you though her usual cheery voice lacked its usual enthusiasm. While you didn’t keep in touch with most of your family, Lucy had been the exception. You weren’t close by any means but her texts and calls didn’t always go ignored. “Aunt Ida said she called you today to tell you about Gran. How are you holding up?”

You shrugged. “As well as can be expected, I guess. How are you doing?” Lucy had been just as close with the grandmother you shared while growing up but she had also stayed within the family unit while you bolted. She and her husband, John, even purchased a home two blocks away from where your grandmother lived.

“Um, I’m okay,” she sighed into the phone. “It’s sad and not the way we expected but we all kind of knew it was coming.”

“Yeah,” you whispered, taking another sip of beer.

“I know it might sound horrible to say but it’s kind of a relief. For Gran, I mean. She’s no longer suffering. You know, after the past couple of years…”

You felt a familiar surge of guilt start up in your chest again, and a burning feeling began in the corners of your eyes. “Yeah,” you repeated. You both stayed quiet for a moment, each thinking back to Gran’s initial diagnosis of Alzheimer’s more than five years ago and how it had quickly progressed, especially during the pandemic years.

Lucy finally broke the silence. “So, um, I was just wondering if you were going to be flying in tomorrow.”

Your brows mashed together again. “Tomorrow?”

“Yeah. For the visitation the next day.”

Your head began to whirl. Perhaps it was the beer and you had misheard her. Though, you had only had two, maybe in conjunction with what you were feeling, you weren’t thinking straight. “Wait, wait. The visitation is the day after tomorrow?”

“Yes,” Luy sounded unsure why you were asking. “And the funeral will be the next morning. That’s why I was thinking you would probably be flying in tomorrow.”

“Aunt Ida told me that she had no idea when the services would be yet but she would let me know.”

“Oh.”

You could practically hear her nerves through the phone. “Lucy,” you warned. “When were the plans finalized?”

“Um…”

“Lucy.”

“Yesterday?” She nearly squeaked out.

That hit you like a gut punch. “Yesterday? I thought Gran just died this morning!”

Now you could really hear the nervousness in Lucy’s voice. “She, um, she passed on Monday morning.”

The fury working its way through your veins felt like molten fire. “Today is Wednesday!”

Lucy knew better than to answer that. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I thought Aunt Ida explained when she said she spoke to you this morning. She was dealing with a lot and—”

“--couldn’t be bothered to tell me, I get it. But why didn’t you call me?” The tears building were practically burning your pupils. Your grandmother had passed away two days ago and no one could be bothered to tell you.

“I-I wanted to, Y/N. I really did but, Aunt Ida said—”

Your jaw tensed and you nearly slammed your bottle down on the floor next to you as you got to your feet, all too certain what Aunt Ida had said. While Lucy was a kinder soul than most in your biological family, she also lacked a backbone when it came to your older female relatives.

“Forget it,” you hissed, roughly wiping away tears that had escaped down your cheeks. “I’ll be arriving tomorrow. Is the obituary up or was she bullshitting me on that one, too?”

“N-No, they just posted it today. It’s actually quite nice. I think you’ll—”

“Send me the link,” you ordered before you hung up and quickly began scanning available flights as you hurried into your bedroom to begin packing.

It was late when you landed, your flight having been slightly delayed. Not that it mattered to you; if you could have delayed the flight altogether, you would have. But that wasn’t possible and neither was you staying in Helena. As angry as you were, you refused to let it keep you from doing the right thing. Plus, when you called the station earlier to tell Hoyt you wouldn’t be back until Monday, she had insisted you take the bereavement time available to you (more like ordered you) and see to your family, wishing you well. Normally, you would have put your foot down and flat out refused, content to hole up in a corner of the office and burrow yourself into work, but you knew she was right. You had to attend the services; you owed Gran that much at least.

You nodded a thanks to the cheery but tired flight attendant as she thanked you for flying with their airlines, and ambled down the bridge towards the airport. Thankfully, due to the late hour, there weren’t many people milling about and you were unencumbered from making your way down the escalator towards Baggage Claim.

While waiting for the carousel to start up, your phone started vibrating. You glanced at the screen, sighing when you saw the name pop up that had been popping up on and off all day.

You immediately rejected the call and slipped your phone back into silent mode. But before you could hit the button, a text snuck its way through to display on your screen.

You felt bad reading the message previews and you certainly weren’t trying to ignore your best friend but you just needed some time to process all of this on your own. You had sent him one quick text earlier telling him not to come by since you wouldn’t be home. You also told him you would call him as soon as you were able. Apparently, he was ignoring that last text going by his several attempts to make contact. You weren’t trying to stonewall him, you really weren’t, but you had to go into this with a clear head. Or as clear a head as you could have in these circumstances. Wasn’t that something he always said before you two went into anything dangerous on the job?

Speaking of the job, it wasn’t that you hadn’t seen your fair share of death, mostly in ghoulish evil ways that people had come up with in order to hurt each other, and it’s not that your grandmother’s passing wasn’t expected to happen at some point like Lucy had said. But you hadn’t been prepared for how you would feel when it did and you certainly hadn’t been prepared for it to happen now.

Conflicting emotions roiled in your head and churned in your stomach. Your empty stomach from that all-too familiar discomfort you’d gotten frequently during your career. The lunch you’d eaten earlier had made a reappearance after Lucy’s phone call. You would have to get some food and soon, but where you would get that at this late hour except a greasy diner, you couldn’t even begin to imagine. Not that it mattered, either. The very thought of food made an altogether different unpleasant sensation roll in your stomach. Emptiness versus nausea…fun.

Eventually, your other suitcase made its way to you and you quickly scooped it up. You ordered a Lyft, scoffing when you noticed the wait time was a half hour, possibly more, for a pickup. How was that even possible? This was an airport! At this rate, you’d be better off taking a cab but that was bound to be pricier than the Lyft. You heaved a great sigh and plopped down on your larger suitcase, resting your chin in your hand as you waited. Eventually, you whipped out your phone and decided to mindlessly scroll through your Instagram. You weren’t a fan of the app or any social media really but Em had made an account for you one day when you had unwisely left your phone sitting on one of Beau’s deck chairs while helping him pack Pedro for a camping trip he was taking her on. You quickly got bored of any new content on your feed, since there weren't any updates from anyone you actually cared about, and swiped over to your profile.

A glimmer of a smile appeared on your face when you saw the picture Em had taken of herself and her dad, posting it for you after she saw your Houston photo and labeled it a semi-pathetic attempt at a first post. Your eyes scanned through your meager posting and the picture of Poppernak that you had taken one day near the end of your shift reminded you why you wouldn’t be working with your beloved partner the next few days. Your smile immediately disappeared and you clicked out of the app, powered down the screen, and slipped the phone into your jacket pocket.

Luckily, only a little while later, your Lyft finally arrived. After loading your suitcases into the back with the driver’s help, you were on your way to the only hotel in town. You stared out the window as the scenery passed by. Your driver, Antonio, had tried to make small talk but thankfully begged off when he noticed you weren’t too talkative, most likely chalking it up to the late flight and you being tired. Familiar landmarks came into view as he turned onto another street and memories started to flood your mind. You shut your eyes, as if to keep them out, and it miraculously held them at bay a little longer. You then settled your gaze on the back of the driver seat, refusing to look out the windows until you arrived at your destination.

You’d have time enough to wallow in memories and regret the next few days. No reason to rush it.

As soon as you checked into your hotel room, you immediately jumped in the shower. It always made you feel better after traveling and the flight had felt excruciatingly long this go around. That could have had something to do with you coming from Montana, though. The few flights you’d taken from Texas back in the day had definitely been shorter.

You wrapped yourself in a towel, your damp hair spilling down your back, and started going through one of your suitcases to find body lotion. Once you found the bottle, before you could begin lathering it up in your hands, your phone vibrated on your night stand.

You heaved a sigh and glanced over, seeing you had another missed call from Beau, and yet another text.

You nearly rolled your eyes, knowing he would make good on this threat if you didn’t check in with him at least once before you went to sleep. And that was the last thing you needed right now.

You slipped in your earbuds, hit his name, then the phone icon, and switched it over to bluetooth as you began to moisturize your skin. He answered it in two rings.

“Hey,” he gruffed out before clearing his throat. “About time you called me back.”

You ignored how hearing his voice immediately made your chest feel that little bit lighter and your shoulders release some of the tension you’d been carrying around the past day. “Yeah, well, when someone threatened to put a BOLO on my ass, I responded real quick. That’s all I need, this town’s cops pounding on my door, in addition to everything else.” You had meant it to come out teasingly but your voice had betrayed your aggravation. You regretted it the moment the words were out of your mouth. You knew Beau was just worried about you, that he cared about you, and wanted to make sure you were alright. In all fairness, you could have at least sent him a text to let him know you landed but you were tired and didn’t feel like talking. He would have understood. He wasn’t the asshole in this scenario; you were.

“I’m sorry about that,” he offered gently and you could hear the genuine remorse in his tone. “I wasn’t trying to give you a hard time but damn, Y/N, not one single text to let me know you’re still alive?”

You flinched at the last word and started applying the lotion more aggressively. You were eager to be done with this call, with everything, so you could crash and finally get some much needed shut-eye. You hadn’t slept much in the past forty eight hours, probably stress from the job (it happened sometimes), and you were feeling it.

“Sorry,” he murmured. “I shouldn’t have said that.” More remorse.

“It’s fine,” you muttered, popping the cap on the bottle closed and placing it on the nightstand. “Well, now that you know that I’m fine, no BOLO’s are necessary.”

“Y/N, I didn’t—”

You knew you didn’t really have a right to be angry with him but you also didn’t have the bandwidth for dealing with anyone or anything right now. You appreciated his concern and him checking on you, but all you wanted to do was hit the sack and evade consciousness for a few hours. “Listen, it’s super late, I just got in because it was a late flight and delayed at that. I’m exhausted. So if we could…” You left it open-ended, hoping he’d just take the hint and say goodnight.

You heard some rustling on the other end and you realized he must have been in bed already when you called. You quickly glanced at the alarm clock and thought over the time difference. It wasn’t even 10:30 yet back in Helena and Beau was already going to sleep for the night? That was odd. Then again, he was now a deputy sheriff down and Hoyt would need the backup in case something came up. Plus, you knew he had cut his vacation short to rush back to Helena. He was probably just as exhausted as you were, possibly more so. “Y/N… You’re not shutting down on me, are you?”

You practically did a double take at the question. “What? No! I’m not. What, I’m tired and want to go to sleep after the long day I’ve had and that’s suddenly me shutting down on you? Seriously? All because I didn’t answer a few texts or pick up one of your many phone calls?” You had no idea why but that question majorly pissed you off. The logical part of you knew you were overreacting to a genuinely concerned question from your best friend but your temper seemed to be off to the races; you couldn’t stop it if you tried. “I get that you’re a grade A worry-er and everything but I’m not some goddamn child you need to check up on every ten minutes for Christ’s sake!” In your rush of anger, you hadn’t even realized just how much your voice had raised. Not until there was a deafening silence in the room and on the other end once you finished your little tirade.

“I wasn’t trying to insinuate that you were, darlin’,” he spoke calmly.

“Don’t you darlin’ me. Don’t you dare patronize me with that shit, Arlen. Do you hear me? Don’t you dare.” Your chest felt immediately tight again and tension filled your body once more. You huffed out an angry breath and decided the best thing for you to do in this situation was to end the call as soon as possible. “Look, you wanted to know I’m still alive, now you know. I would appreciate it if you would stop calling me and texting me all the time while I’m here and threatening me when you don’t hear back from me right away. That’s the last fucking thing I need on top of everything else,” you snapped.

Beau remained quiet but you could still hear his breathing on the other end so you knew he was listening to your ranting.

“Now, I’m going to bed. I appreciate the check in but it’s unnecessary. When the services are over and I’m going to head back, I’ll let you know.”

Still nothing.

“Good night, Beau.” You hung up and angrily tossed your phone onto the bed with your earbuds before heading back to the bathroom so you could blow dry your hair.

You thought over the entire conversation. You felt slightly bad that you had lost your temper with him when he was just making sure you were okay but God, you didn’t need that right now. What you needed was to get through the next few days so you could return to your life, your normal routine, as fast as possible. The best way you could do that was to keep going, not allowing yourself time to think, and get this done.

A twinge of guilt surged in your chest when you had that thought. You hadn’t meant anything disrespectful towards your grandmother or to insinuate that you didn’t care that she had died when you were thinking that. It was just…things were already going to be difficult, if your Aunt Ida’s attitude on the phone had been any indication as well as her behavior so far. If it hadn’t been for Lucy’s call earlier and the obituary link she texted you, you wouldn’t have even known when the services were going to be so you could grab the first flight out. Yes, things were bound to be difficult and tense until this was over.

You unplugged your hair dryer in a huff and finished getting ready to go to sleep. Beau just needed to give you space. Your life in Montana had nothing to do with anyone or anything here and you were determined to keep it that way. Texas never did despite your few trips back over the years; Big Sky Country wasn’t going to either.

You supposed you shouldn’t have been surprised at the text message notification on your screen when you lit up your phone.

You felt that twinge of guilt again but this time in your heart. Beau hadn’t deserved what you had unleashed on him before. He was a good man and he hadn’t done anything wrong. You were mentally kicking yourself as you hurriedly dressed for bed and snuggled under the sheets. You stared at your screen, your thumb hovering over his name, the desire strong within you to call him and apologize. You yearned to hear his voice one more time, even if it was just him talking and you listening, him giving you hell for the things you had said in anger earlier. Hell, you almost wished he was here with you so you could fold yourself into his arms and burrow into his chest, letting his Texan drawl wash over your ear as he assured you everything would be alright. And you could stay there as long as you wanted, safe and comforted, not having to face the world or how it had changed so drastically for you with one phone call.

After a minute of indecision, you decided to let things be, get some rest, and then call him tomorrow to apologize when you were a little more clear-headed. And God, you hoped you would be more clear-headed. You powered down your screen and turned the light off, getting into a more comfortable position. You closed your eyes and tried to let the silence settle over you to start lulling you into sleep.

A few minutes passed by of you unsuccessfully getting your mind to stop racing, constantly replaying your phone call with Beau, the phone call from your aunt, what Lucy’s call revealed (though you shouldn’t have been surprised), what you would be facing come tomorrow, and everything that entailed. Almost as if it was a track on repeat. Finally, you let out a loud huff and reached for the TV remote, turning the television on. You channel surfed until you landed on a rerun of The Golden Girls. You tried to get into the episode; the series was an old favorite that you loved. But when you saw Sophia talking to her granddaughter, you winced and decided that the show wasn’t for you right now. You continued to click through channels until you found an episode of Everybody Loves Raymond. The minute Marie walked through the youngest Barone’s household, giving her daughter-in-law a glare, you let out another wince. You finally settled on The Weather Channel and stared at the screen while the woman talked about the highs and lows expected for the next week in the area. You noticed that rain showers were being forecast for the day of the burial. How apt. And just like that, you knew your brain wasn't going to let you get any rest.

You sighed and tossed the remote away from you and rubbed your hands down your tired face. So much for sleeping.

The next day, you arrived at a familiar red-colored house with white trim, stepping up onto the old wooden porch. You could already hear a low buzz coming from inside as voices batted back and forth in conversation mixed with the sounds of young children running around and playing. One voice stuck out to you from all the rest and it made you tense up. A part of you wanted to turn around and retreat back to your hotel room.

You briefly closed your eyes and took a deep breath. No. You were not going to avoid this. You couldn’t. You wouldn’t. You could do this. You would do this. You were an adult now, you had your own life, and you were a deputy sheriff for Christ’s sake. You dealt with dead bodies, assaults, and much scarier criminals every single day. You refused to turn around and leave with your head hanging down.

As if to ensure you wouldn’t be able to leave, without your permission, your hand lifted and gave two confident raps on the front door. You could hear the chatter pause long enough that you knew they had heard the sounds. You straightened up and squared your shoulders, making sure you were holding your head high just like you did during work hours. It was a silly fleeting thought but you almost wished you were wearing your badge on your belt, having it near as some layer of invisible protection.

Before you could scoff internally at yourself, the door yanked open and there stood the older woman you hadn’t wanted to deal with. You hadn’t seen her in years and while her sandy hair was mixed with more gray and her face sported a few more lines resulting in an even harsher scowl than you remembered, the dark eyes full of contempt whenever they focused on you remained the same.

You didn’t smile, tear up, or surge forward for a hug, and neither did she. “Aunt Ida,” you greeted.

“Y/N,” she replied icily. “So you decided to show up for the services after all?”

You could feel your teeth set on edge but you schooled your features. You weren’t going to let her little digs get at you and you would be damned to let her see it if they somehow did. You weren’t fourteen anymore. “I did. Mind if I come in?”

Her beady eyes gave you a once over and she practically sneered before stepping back and opening the door a little wider. Not exactly a warm invitation but an invitation nonetheless. You gave her a nod and took it, ignoring the tiny snort of derision she let out as you did.

You sat uncomfortably on the old couch that you had hated as a kid. Aunt Ida had insisted this couch was for entertaining, not for young children to watch television on or jump on or do anything on really. The seat was practically as rigid as your aunt.

You silently wondered what Beau was up to now as a temporary means of mentally escaping this situation. You had tried to call him before you came over here but his phone had gone straight to voicemail. You would be lying if you said you weren’t a little hurt and a little let down that you hadn’t been able to speak with him. He had told you to call him anytime, that he was there for you despite the harsh words you had launched at him the previous night, but the one time you actually tried to reach out, he hadn’t been available. You hadn’t been prepared for the beep of the voicemail, signaling you to talk, and you ended up leaving him the most awkward message you had ever left someone. “Hey. It’s me. …I’m sorry. Call me back when you get this, okay? Or if you don’t want to, you don’t have to. I’ll understand, but…it would be really nice to hear your voice. Well…you know what I mean. Anyway, just call me back…if you want.” That had been four hours ago. And granted, he was three hours behind you now, but you knew he would already be up, getting ready for the day. So why was his phone off?

You had chastised yourself out loud after hanging up the phone, telling yourself that he was probably in the middle of something for a case that he got called in on overnight and couldn’t be disturbed. How many times did you have to do the same? You had scowled at yourself in the bathroom mirror while putting the finishing touches on your foundation. “What the hell is wrong with you, Y/N? You need to get a fucking grip.” In perhaps an immature move that you were glad no one else was around to witness, you stuck your tongue out at yourself and shook your head, muttering “Stop being such an asshole already”, and walked out the door.

And now you were here, in the house you didn’t really want to be in, surrounded by people that you didn’t really want to be around. Well, perhaps that last thought was harsh. There was really only one person you didn’t really want to see and she had been the one to let you in the door.

You quickly glanced around the room you were in, noting not much had changed since you had been here last, when you had left this town in your rearview mirror and didn’t look back. Even the scent you hated as a child was still the same: a mix of old lady perfume and stale cookies. You could feel nausea starting up in your stomach but thankfully you hadn’t eaten anything before you came here.

Your Uncle Mason, who sat on your right, gave you a tight smile when he noticed you surveying the room.

“Still looks the same, huh?” He offered.

“Exactly the same,” you agreed without looking at him.

Your cousin, Lucy, sat in the stiff armchair on your left and looked around as well, smiling. “I like that it hasn’t changed since we were kids. A lot of good memories happened here.”

Your gaze dropped to the oak coffee table that still had the scratch in it from when you were a child and didn’t know any better. That was one of your countless infractions your aunt had held against you. “Yeah, good memories,” you muttered. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Mason tense a little and Lucy fidgeting nervously.

You all heard Aunt Ida finish up her conversation and hang up the old handset before she made her way into the room. “That was the funeral home. There was an issue with the plot next to Dad but it’s been resolved.”

“What kind of issue?” Uncle Mason asked.

“Payment,” Aunt Ida spat out as she sat down before turning a fresh glare on you. “I hope you’re not here thinking there’s any money waiting for you and that’s why you decided to show up.”

You nearly ground your teeth together but forced yourself to remain calm. “Of course not. I’m here for Gran.”

She scoffed and shook her head. “Only took her dying, right?”

Lucy struggled to her feet, her round belly acting as an obstacle, but she managed. “You know, I don’t hear the kids anymore. I’m going to go check on them and be right back.” She then hurried out of the room; if she could have run, you bet she would be sprinting towards the backyard her kids had been urged out into when you had arrived. You couldn’t blame her. You would be, too.

“Ida,” Mason attempted to admonish his sister. “Now is not the time.”

“Then when is it?” She snapped, making Mason shrink back, before she turned her scowl back onto you. “Why else would you show up? It’s not like you came when she needed help, when we all needed help with her. You didn’t visit her once while she was in the nursing home. Not once when she was in the hospital.”

Your jaw tensed and you felt the familiar twinge of guilt deep within. “You told me not to come, Aunt Ida,” you reminded her.

She barked out a laugh. “Is that how you heard it?”

“That’s how I heard it because that’s exactly how you said it.” You didn’t look away when she was slightly taken aback by your reply. You refused to back down from this one. You reminded yourself that you were no longer a child; you were a grown woman who didn’t have to take her shit anymore. You were no longer dependent on her or anyone else in this family for anything though when you were, she had only been too happy to make you feel like crap for it every single day of your existence.

The woman shook her head, laughing at you. “Right. You’re some big shot cop now, right? Too good for us lowly citizens.” She smirked over at Mason in collusion, though her brother was shaking his head, refusing to meet her gaze. That angered her further and the glare she settled on you was worse than before. “It’s obvious why you’re really here. Like I said, there’s no money for you. Anything she had left went to the payments for the nursing home and her funeral. And what she had left was pretty much nothing. So if you came here expecting a payout from her will, you’re going to be sorely disappointed.”

You lifted your chin slightly higher in defiance of her accusations. “And like I said, Aunt Ida, I didn’t come here for anything other than to pay my respects to Gran, and to help where I can.” Your voice softened a little at the thought of your grandmother. “She would have wanted that.”

The other woman scoffed once more but didn’t say more due to the doorbell ringing.

“I’ll get it,” Mason hurried to offer and then nearly rushed from the room, leaving you and Ida in one hell of a glaring contest.

“I’m only trying to do right by Gran,” you assured her.

“Too little, too late,” she hissed.

You unclenched your jaw and took a quiet breath. “Yeah,” you reluctantly agreed. “Suppose you’re right.” Right then and there you decided that once you were back in Montana, you would sever all ties, this time permanently. You owed nothing to this woman or to any of them, regardless of any blood you shared. The one person you might have owed something to once upon a time was no longer alive. If anything, you were being quickly reminded why you had left this house all those years ago and hadn’t come back.

Ida harrumphed and continued to shake her head.

You were about to stand and leave, having had more than enough in this one little exchange with your aunt, and tell her to call you if she or anyone needed anything before the wake, when Mason returned and a familiar figure filled the entryway to the room. Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped.

There stood the very man you had been trying to get a hold of earlier, giving you one of his warm smiles. You could see slight rings of shadow underneath his eyes that were similar to yours that you had been sporting this morning before using concealer. Exhaustion lined his face but so did relief. His green eyes that were centered on you softened slightly and in that moment, you knew everything that had happened the night before had been forgiven. He was here, for you.

You didn’t remember making the decision to move when you hurried over to him, Mason barely able to get out of your way before you launched yourself at Beau who immediately wrapped his arms around you, practically picking you up off the floor. You squeezed your eyes shut to keep any tears from coming out and burrowed into his neck, happy to breathe in the familiar scent of his cologne. No one said anything and for that you were grateful. You didn’t want anything to shatter the one good moment you’d had in the past two days.

Eventually, when you felt like you wouldn’t break down in tears and you had yourself under pretty good control, you choked out in a whisper, “You’re here.”

“Damn right I am, darlin’,” he confirmed into your ear, making you smile as you heard that Texan drawl you loved so much. The tension in his body relaxed though his hold on you did not. You felt him press a kiss to your hair before hugging you even tighter. “I’m here.”

A/N: Please let me know what you think. 👉👈

#beau arlen x reader #beau arlen x female reader #beau arlen x you #beau arlen x y/n #beau arlen #beau arlen fanfiction #big sky fandom #i need your hand but i don't want to burn it part 1

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abiiors · 9 months

Text

2. sincerity is scary // george daniel x oc

a/n: 2 chapters in 2 days simply because i had them ready. like i said—the posting schedule is erratic. reblogs and comments are always appreciated <3 cw: weed, alcohol, mentions of w**dy a**en wc: 3.7k masterlist

“cleo!” there’s a finger on my face, a bony and sharp finger. “cleeeooooooo.”

it pokes at my nose first, then my cheek—anything soft and squishy it can find really. sleep weighs on me like a tonne of bricks, sleep and the exhaustion that’s becoming a permanent fixture.

“go away,” i grumble into the pillow and curl up tighter.

in this one blissful moment, i have no recollection of the past or any worries of the future. there’s only me, now and this bed.

and a body that suddenly plops onto me.

“ow!” i yell, well and truly annoyed now, and flail my arm vaguely in its direction. it finds its mark, and seconds later, someone hisses in my ear.

“what the fuck!” it’s matty’s voice. it’s him. suddenly all of it comes rushing back. london, matty’s house, his bed. matty.

i scramble to sit up and rub my eyes to get rid of the last traces of sleep. his whole bedroom is bathed in golden light, the same light that forms an angelic halo around his head. and matty grins his signature devilish grin right at me.

my first instinct is to slap my hand on my mouth to keep myself from squealing. all emotion hits me all at once—i’m seeing him after years. years!!! sure we kept in regular contact through texts and phone calls and stupid facebook posts. but seeing him in the flesh after almost four years has me tearing up.

before i know it, i’m being engulfed into the hug i had been waiting for all day. matty, ever surrounded by the smell of weed and cigarettes and everchanging perfumes, holds onto me tightly as we melt into each other’s arms.

“you look like shit,” he laughs, sounding suspiciously wobbly. moments later, a tiny, quiet sniffle follows.

“you abandoned me!” i smack the back of his head lightly, “can’t believe after four years you didn’t pick me up at the airport.” my voice is thick with tears as i try to make a lame joke. but i am not angry at him, far from it actually. i am just grateful that he’s willing to help so much when i asked him at such short notice.

i tighten my arms around him. “i missed you, matty, so much. and…thank you.”

matty pulls back, holding me at arm’s length and inspecting my face. “you know i would have always come through, right?” he asks. his thumb rolls soft circles on my shoulder and the golden sunlight turns his eyes into pools of honey.

“what happened, cleo?” he asks softly. “your voice on the phone…it scared me.”

my mind flashes back to the day i called him while on the verge of a panic attack and surrounded by the remnants of my shattered life. how i could barely string together a sentence through the gasps and hiccups. how in the end i’d only managed to tell him two things.

i’m coming back to london tomorrow. i need a place to stay.

i look back up at him, at his searching gaze. he’s expecting an answer. of course, he is. i’m in his house and currently in his bed without even asking, of course, he wants an answer.

“i—” my throat closes up and tears prick at the corner of my eyes.

“it was—” i try again. i choke up again.

the words are there on the tip of my tongue. i want to tell him about everything, about the mess i made. he would understand even if no one else did. matty would. but i can’t get myself to spill my heart out.

not when everything is still so fresh.

“hey…” matty wipes away the one stray tear that’s managed to escape. “it’s alright, love. we can talk about it when you’re ready.”

when i’m ready…

i nod and smile weakly, grateful for everything. but most of all i feel grateful for matty—this boy who’s been my best friend through all of it in every sense of the word. looking at him now makes a tiny seed of hope bloom in my chest. i have him in my corner. it won’t be so difficult with him at my side.

“alright,” he claps his hands together, smiling brightly, “no more crying! we have some catching up to do!”

i smack him again, laughing at his offended face. “and you have some making up to do dickhead, don’t think i’ve forgotten.”

fifteen minutes and a frankly worrying amount of bickering later, we settle on having a movie night. matty whines about going out on town—it’s a lovely night, he says, tells me that i need to get reacquainted with the “london nightlife” but i moan about severe jet lag.

truth is, it’s the thought of going out to party and being carefree is what makes my stomach turn. and i know if i have enough alcohol in me right now, all the words will come out in a sloppy and messy word vomit that won’t make sense to anyone.

“how was george, by the way?” matty asks. it’s an innocent question; my best friend wanting to know if i got along with his friend but i still have to carefully rearrange my features into neutrality.

“he was fine.”

what i really want to say is, i don’t know how you’re friends with that bastard. he’s an utter piece shit and should be kicked out of this house right now. but i smile and hold two thumbs up. as far as matty is concerned—george was fine, we drove home in silence, i said thanks, he nodded and left.

but that isn’t the reality. and he hasn’t left. in fact, i have a dooming sensation that he is somewhere in the house right now, probably indulging in routine animal sacrifice or bullying kids online or whatever else guys like him do in their spare time.

i wrinkle my nose and matty laughs.

“did you go all awkward and shy on him? come on, i’ll introduce you properly.”

a stone settles in the pit of my stomach because that is the last fucking thing i want right now. i can keep my mouth shut, i can be civilised and cordial. but george is a heathen with zero manners.

“no, no it’s fine,” i respond hastily, “we talked, it was great.”

i am sure my eyes are wide in an effort to not avoid eye contact with him. if there’s one thing matty can do well, is tell when i’m being skittish.

“come on, cleo.” matty pulls on my arm, “you guys are housemates now, i can’t have you awkwardly existing around each other.”

i almost scoff at him for reminding me of the unfortunate reality. ideally i do not want to exist around george at all but for matty’s sake i would stick to being cordial. clearly, he has a whole different plan for us—he wants all three of us to be best friends. one big happy family. i can see that glint in his eyes.

“don’t make me manhandle you,” he warns and i hiss at him like a feral cat.

“matty, i’m fine here. stop!”

“so you don’t wanna see your room? hmm? you’re not taking over my room, you know that right? wouldn’t want you finding the magazines under the bed—”

“ew, matthew!” i wiggle away and out of his grip, squealing. “ew, don’t touch me!”

but he’s faster and before i know it, i’m being lifted off the bed and into his arms like i am nothing but a ragdoll. he laughs maniacally, twirling me around until i’m dizzy and he’s stumbling, knocking us both into the wall.

“i told you,” he speaks in a sing-song voice, sounding more like a horror movie witch than a person, “i warned you.”

“i am going to smack you so hard,” i threaten but it’s overshadowed by my breathless laughter. my ribs hurt, so does my stomach. my head spins as i gasp for air between fits of giggles but it feels good.

laughing with matty as if we’re 14 again and back in my childhood bedroom feels good.

until we collide into something and i hear a yelp.

matty stops in his tracks, trying and failing to control his giggles, and i already know what—who—we collided into.

“oops,” he grins, clearly unfazed by the fact that i’m grimacing, still held up in his arms and looking over his shoulder so i won’t have to look at george, who is undoubtedly glaring at us (me) right now. seriously, i can feel his burning stare on the back of my head.

“matty,” he sighs, and then in a low voice, almost spit out like a curse, “cleo.”

“this is her,” my friend introduces and finally sets me down.

“you’re making a racket.”

i want to mimic him in a really childish way—you’re making a racket. instead, i stick to glaring up at him from matty’s side. which, it turns out, is a big fucking mistake.

because in front of me, stands a very shirtless george, wearing nothing but black basketball shorts that sit low on his hips. like before, i notice all the tattoos on his arms again, colourful and stark against the sweaty skin. his chest glistens with sweat too—a direct result of the hot summer day and the lack of an ac. my eyes roam over his body, unable to look away, unable to do much of anything else other than feel the heat creeping up my neck. burning my face.

“are you done?” george asks right as my eyes dip to the beginning of his happy trail.

his voice is a shock enough that my gaze instantly snaps back to his face.

george is staring at matty, pretending like i’m not even in the room, but something tells me the question is directed at me. and something tells me that the pink tinge on his face is from more than just summer heat.

“i am not watching another tarantino!” i cross my arms in front of chest indignantly and challenge matty with a raised eyebrow.

for fuck sake, this argument has been going on for fifteen minutes now. behind us, the popcorn has long finished popping and the laptop has gone back to screensaver mode but we simply can’t seem to agree upon a film to watch.

“and i am not watching legally blonde for the tenth time,” matty retorts, mimicking my stance.

this is a stalemate situation. both of our nostrils are flared—a mirror image of each other just as matty and i have always been.

“how dare you? elle woods has more talent in her little finger that you will have in your entire stupid—”

a loud crunch interrupts followed by the unmistakable smell popcorn. matty and i whip our heads simultaneously, eyes narrowed and trained on george who holds the giant bowl all to himself, another handful of popcorn almost to his mouth while he swallows his first mouthful.

“no, go on,” he drawls, stuffing the popcorn in his mouth and going back to looking bored as ever. “this is better than movie night.”

mercifully, he’s wearing a t-shirt now on top of the basketball shorts. his hair is wet and curling on his forehead, some strands almost falling into his eyes that i have the uncontrollable urge to brush away. so fine, he’s not ugly to look at. but his dark, depraved, blackened heart makes up for it. his voice comes out muffled from the popcorn and i have dark thoughts about him choking on a stray kernel. i reign them in and focus on matty.

“come on, cleoooo,” he pleads. “it will be fun. he makes art, you know? you’ll like it.”

“weren’t you supposed to make it up to me?” i point out, walking up to george and grabbing a handful of the popcorn. he sneers, looking like he wants to slap my hand away. i sneer back.

matty is too busy groaning into his hands to notice this exchange.

“fine,” he sighs, “fine you’re right. you pick the movie. and the pizza. but please let me pick the weed. don’t want more bad trips.” that last part is more of a grumble to himself. i huff, contemplating bickering with him further but matty looks like a puppy, all big eyes and a pouty mouth crumbling away my resolve.

“emma’s for pizza, obviously,” i mumble, about to make my way to the stack of dvds when a tendril of horror snakes down my spine. “emma’s is still around isn’t it? say yes matty or i’ll cry!” and i know how true that statement is.

emma’s isn’t just a pizza place, it’s an institution! a tiny kitchen on a small corner in east london, emma’s holds countless memories that are so near and dear to me—satisfying my munchies after being high for the first time. stumbling inside drunk and giggling after my first clubbling night. celebrating with matty the night i got my acceptance for new york. big and small moments all celebrated over an uneven pepperoni pizza and an off brand beer that only they stocked.

i could feel my lip wobble simply at the thought of it being gone.

“matty…” my voice goes whispery when he doesn’t answer immediately and his eyes widen.

“no, fucking hell, it’s still there! christ cleo i didn’t think that would actually make you cry.”

i contemplate hitting him on the head then, contemplate snatching the big glass bowl from george just so i could bonk it on my best friend’s head but matty raises his hands in surrender.

“the menu is on the fridge,” he says, “and before you declare that you don’t need to see it. they updated it.”

with a chill creeping down my neck i run to it. hitting matty can wait. right now my body craves the taste of familiarity. if there’s anything that can make me feel like i’m home, it’s that damn pizza.

i only breathe a sigh of relief when i see that they haven’t made any cuts to the menu, only additions that i do not care about. by the time i’m back, george has left the room, the bowl of popcorn half-finished and matty is on the phone, presumably making sure emma’s is delivering. i start making my way through the stack of dvds, waiting for him to finish.

pulp fiction. meh, watched it enough times. frozen? absolutely fucking not, don’t need matty humming let it go in my ear all night. i eliminate them one by one for seemingly arbitrary reasons—too long, too short, didn’t pass the vibe check before my fingers still on a dvd with a familiar cover.

annie hall. the case as old as our friendship.

i remember watching it with matty for the first time back when we used to sneak out and get high. i remember romanticising new york, how it had made a permanent mark on my weed addled, pubescent brain.

i trace the flimsy plastic, lost in memories.

“cleo?” matty’s hand is on my shoulder, bringing me back to reality. his brows are bunched, a look of confusion settled onto his face. “you alright? i asked if you wanted your usual.”

i nod in a daze, clearing my throat and his gaze shifts to the dvd in my hands.

matty smiles. “annie hall! oh, that’s your favourite, let’s watch that!”

the words curdle in my stomach. yes it is my favourite, yes i practically know every scene, every frame by heart. i even know the exact expression matty has on his face during truman capote’s cameo, how he points at the screen every time.

i know he will ask me if i saw all those places for real. i know he will want me to talk about my life back in new york. my stomach churns.

“no, let’s not…” i tell him, trying to keep my voice as normal as possible, trying to hide the cracks. “watched it a million times now, it’s boring.”

his mouth twists into a frown but thankfully matty doesn’t push it, he just shrugs.

“pulp fiction sounds good, actually,” i say, giggling in earnest when he groans. matty takes the stack from my hands, placing the rest of them aside while he opens the one i picked.

i settle onto the sofa, snuggled under the blanket and waiting for him to turn the tv on. matty smiles when he sees his spot is empty—“his” spot… right next to a small coffee table where he can pile on half-empty mugs with stale, cold tea or coffee still inside that he never finished. it’s infuriating. it’s also familiar.

i sigh, happy to spend time with my best friend, about to say a thanks to the forces of the universe that george has left, when, like an omen, he slinks back into the room, holding three joints in his hand.

a sense of calm descends over me, something i haven’t felt in a long time, so long in fact that i try to count in on my fingers, running out and starting again in confusion. the joint smoulders in the ashtray, only half-smoked.

matty prattles on about something, but i’m not entirely paying attention. i’m more focused on the pizza, the way the cheese melts in my mouth, the burn of the spicy pepperoni—everything is exactly how i remember.

everything feels wonderful—eating the food i love, being with someone who cares about me. the warmth of the blanket that george has tried to steal from me twice now.

every time i feel a tug, i glare at him.

“go get your own,” i snap through a mouthful of pizza.

george makes a disgusted face. “this is my blanket.”

that makes me throw it off of my lap. “ugh, shoulda told me that before. don’t want your disgusting germs on me.”

george gapes at me. his pupils are wide, the smell of weed clings to him along with the sweet, earthy perfume i smelled earlier and the joint dangles carelessly between his long fingers. my brain chooses to hyperfocus on his full pink mouth every time he takes a drag of it, inhaling the smoke and holding it in his lungs, letting it get to his head.

his voice comes out low, much deeper than it usually is. it does something funny to my stomach—probably making it flip with disgust.

he takes a drag of the joint again, leaning in unexpectedly to blow the smoke all over my face. “there,” he smirks, “more ‘germs’. what are you gonna do? cry about it?”

“real mature, george,” i scoff, hurrying to grab my own joint, taking a hasty drag. i realise my mistake too late as the smoke lodges itself in my throat, making me cough and splutter, gasping for air as my eyes water.

george laughs then. he actually laughs. i didn’t know his facial muscles could even do that. my insides burn from embarrassment and then anger.

“i could have died,” i mutter between more coughs and gasps. “that would work out great for you, wouldn’t it, you… you pig!”

“oh how creative, cleo…” he spits my name again like a curse, letting his eyes roam all over my angry face. a slow, insufferable smirk makes its way onto his mouth and i have the intense urge to smack it right off, so much so that i clench my hands into fists, turning away and facing matty who’s watching us with an indescribable expression—almost as if he’s watchin two animals fighting in a cage.

no one pays attention to the movie as vincent and mia start dancing.

“what…” matty splutters, opening his mouth and closing it again. then shakes his head in confusion.

i have had enough. enough of being right next to george who reeks of smugness, enough of his stupid weed and this stupid movie. i huff, picking up the remaining slice of my pizza.

“tell this idiot to never breathe in my direction again,” i pretend that george is not even in the room, glaring at the back of my head.

“tell her not to steal my blanket then,” he retorts. matty looks like a deer caught in headlights.

“and tell him i hope he chokes in his sleep.” indignation burns bright through me as i turn to george without even realising it.

we are so close now, noses almost touching. his angry eyes burn into mine, his mouth is twisted in a grimace.

“and tell her i hope she—”

“alright! alright!” matty springs up from where he’s sitting, physically pulling me back with enough force that i’m wrenched from my sit and into his corner of the settee.

“i don’t know what the fuck you’re on about,” he slurs his words sightly, an effect of the beer and the weed, “but george, you’re in timeout.”

i feel a rush of vindication as george sqwaks in protest. it doesn’t last long.

“so are you, cleo! fucking hell…” he sighs, rubbing a hand over his face, “acting like children, making me act like the adult…” and muttering some more that i tune out in favour of glaring at george once again.

my whole body buzzes in anger, so much so that i almost miss it when my actual phone buzzes in my pocket. once, then once again.

two text messages in a row. two distinct pings that i set for one specific person. nate.

i know i shouldn’t look at it, i know it’s a bad idea even before the anger in my body is replaced with dread. and yet i’m like the cat willingly walking to its demise just to satisfy some curiosity.

with shaky fingers, i swipe my phone open, trying to burn holes into it by staring alone.

no such thing happens. instead, two text messages stare right back at me.

hi baby

don’t think i’m giving up on us just yet.

just as i’m about to delete the two, a third pops up, chilling me to my very core. every other thought disappears, george and his protests fade away in the background as my entire body vibrates with…i don’t even know how i feel. i don’t even know what to make of the message in front of me.

i’m going to find you, cleo. i’m going to make it right.

lemme know what you think <33

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cherrys-writings · 9 months

Text

Exhaustion

Just something a litte short and fluffy

slight angst, reader is overwhelmed

Your heart sank with every ring. He’s not gonna hear it. You shouldn’t have bothered, all grown up and you can’t handle these days on your own.

You pull the phone away from your ear, tossing it onto the empty part of the couch. You try to calm down, telling yourself to power through it and things will slow down again soon. Soft footsteps sound behind you and the knot in your throat tightens, Grayson leans over the back of the couch to kiss the top of your head. You manage all of three words, “I can’t Gray,” before sobs wrack your body.

Grayson was immediately beside you, “talk to me.”

He didn’t force you to look at him when you started rambling, “There’s all these expectations from my family and projects they want my input on. I’m finally leading a project at the company and I get…..I don’t know, bombarded by everyone just wanting to help. A-and then there’s family obligations and helping my sibling plan their wedding and spending all my free time with everyone, so no one thinks I don’t love them.” Grayson pets your hair, pulling you closer on the couch. Ignoring how wet his shirt is.

“I can’t be this talkative with them all the time, Grayson. They need to know I want to be around them, but I’m exhausted. Being this, this,” I wipe at my cheeks, gesturing in search of the word, “This….out with everyone all the time. Before I say anything I have to make sure it's not too blunt, that it makes sense in context of the conversation, my tone doesn’t sound condescending. It’s so much work just to hold a conversation. No matter how much sleep I get, I’m always tired.”

Gray rubs circles on your back, pulling you tightly against him, as if he could will the emptiness away. He sighs, “I’m proud of you darling. Your family shouldn’t push you to be a certain way. I love you. I love your straightforwardness, the unique connections you make between things when we talk. And I love quiet times with you. Right now, it sounds like you need some quiet. Can you take some deep breaths with me?”

You nod and focus on matching your breath with his. Grayson’s steady heartbeat slows your mind, his presence an anchor. Hitching breaths eventually turn into a massive yawn and you feel the rumble of Grayson chuckling.

Gray leans back to look at you, “How about you come with me and get some genuine rest.”

You’re too drained to protest when he stands, lifting you with him and carrying you to your room. Gray sets you on the bed, walking to fill the bathtub, jasmine scent floating out. He returns to grab your pajamas and lead you to the tub.

“It’s nothing you haven’t seen before,” you say watching him turn as you remove your clothes and step into the steaming water, “you can join me if you like.”

Grayson turns back, making almost no effort to hide his lingering gaze, “You’re supposed to relax. Besides, I’d rather not boil myself alive tonight.”

You flicked water at him while he retreats from the room.

Grayson was already in bed, stretching his arms towards you and making grabby hands when he saw you step out. You pull the blankets over you both and rest your head on his chest.

“Tell me a story,” you whisper.

“I don’t know any.”

“Please, Gray.”

“Fine.” You don’t need to see his face to know he’s rolling his eyes and smirking. “Once upon a time, there was a fairy. Now this fairy wasn’t like the ones in old tales who stole children and trapped people in impossible deals.”

“Let me guess, they’re not like other fairies,” you mime tucking your hair behind your ear

“Hey, this is my story,” he chided, “As I was saying. No this fairy wasn’t like the fairies of old tales or even like the new tales. He didn’t have a scarred face with a metal eye, or arms covered in tattooed symbols that flowed over his chest and back. Some might say he was better than all these fairies because he didn’t have bat wings or violet eyes flecked with star light.”

You lightly smack his shoulder, laughing, “Leave my book boyfriends alone.”

Grayson turns, both of you on your sides. His hand drags up your arm, coming to gently tilt your chin up and presses a kiss between your brows.He rests his chin on the top of your head, rubbing slow circles on your back, the feeling pulls your mind away from the earlier worries. Your eyelids grow heavy and almost miss when Gray says, “I promise I’ll always help you through the hard days.”

**************************

A friend convinced me to give ACOTAR a second chance....new thing to obsess over

#grayson hawthorne fluff #grayson hawthorne x reader #grayson hawthorne fic #the inheritance games fic #the inheritance games #the hawthorne legacy #grayson x reader #grayson hawthorne #libby grambs #jameson hawthorne #avery grambs #the hawthorne brothers #nash hawthorne #the final gambit #the brothers hawthorne #grayson hawthorne needs hugs #hurt/comfort #fluff

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desultory-novice · 1 year

Text

CW: Serious but vague talk about the complex feelings associated with the loss of a loved one and mourning - both in Kirby and in real life. Some personal stuff and once more for good measure mentions of death and mourning.

I know I don't owe anyone an excuse for my brief absence, but I was completely caught off guard this year when I realized the anniversary of Planet Robobot fell just days before the passing of my own father last year. No surprise I didn't make the connection last year, but it hit me this year and it hit hard.

I know that they're not the fandom's most popular characters ("most hated" may be more like it?) but I feel almost painfully close to the story of Susanna Patrya Haltmann and Max Profitt Haltmann. For I was also a child who was torn between being really mad at my father for his flaws and mistakes while also pining for this idealized parent-child relationship we didn't have, to the point of often spurning the bond we did have because it wasn't going the way I imagined it. I also had to watch close up as he wasted away, his senses going one by one, till he looked more and more like a fading shell of a person.

...You know, I didn't even finish playing PR until last year or maybe the year before? Of course I knew the story spoilers. But I couldn't make myself play it. I finally did because I felt I had to. And I'm glad, even if finishing it left me with a weird sense of sadness. A sense of sadness that finally came full circle a few months later...

I thought I would draw something for the anniversary this year. Something sad, bittersweet, poignant, meaningful. Something akin to a tribute. But my pen just wouldn't move. I don't think I have the words or the visuals to fully express what I felt about it right now. It's why, even though I really do like these two characters, I hardly ever draw them.

It's this closeness that renders them blurry in my vision.

...I suppose I might as well talk about this while I'm here, but I have this ask in my inbox about the Merry Magoland Branch AU. About Joronia and Max and what happens to them after their souls are freed.

'Do they come back to life?'

...God, I've written one thousand answers to that post in my head.

Part of my brain says the "right" answer to give - here on my Kirby blog where every story has a happy ending or at least a chance at salvation no matter how grim - is "of course they come back to life!" The Merry Magoland Branch AU is a sad but cutesy fractured fairy tale of a story where everyone ends up better than they started! Besides, they’re already souls. What else would happen to them? Just quietly go off to rest? That wouldn’t be satisfying!

...

But another part of me looks at "Kirby," a series that has characters who have "died" and come back to life and characters who have died and stayed dead and I feel like, as painful as it is to those such as the Sectaranza shippers and the other fans of of the implied dead cast members...

...they're not coming back. They can't come back. They shouldn't come back. Even in a completely fictional setting, even in a silly AU, it is hard for me, personally, to make myself change what has happened. What has been done.

Don't get me wrong, I've even scribbled out a few "everyone lives!" scenarios but I've never been able to draw a single one... I tell myself that if a miracle happens and one day I'm scouted to make a Kirby comic or animated series or movie, something where I get to retell the world from the beginning, I would not have it so the "dead" characters die, if only because they are unique enough that I would want them around to use for future stories. Like Moretsu Pupupu Hour, with its funny Sectonia who is literally allergic to peace. Or that one manga I haven't read where Susie and her father run some kind of puzzle store??

But again, that would be a Kirby I had control of from the beginning.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm proud of Kirby the series for not being so grimdark “realism” that Marx, upon blowing up, turns into meat pasta and instead comes back with a smile and laugh to kick exploding jester balls at people all because you waved a magic heart-shaped wand.

And I'm absolutely content with letting spunky wizard Magolor mercilessly fight his way back through some sort of purgatory dimension and start life over as a medieval salesperson, building up good karma one microtransaction at a time. I think that stuff is important. (Well, not so much the microstransactions.) But I'm also proud of it for letting some characters... not come back.

Dark Matter Blade is both a badass and strangely attractive (...just me?) for an eyeball made of dark matter but despite the fact that maybe all he wanted was friends, despite the fact that it's implied he rescued Gooey from Dark Matter and hid him on Popstar to protect him from Zero, despite the fact that he should have become a good guy and was instead used heartlessly by Zero like ammunition, losing the few marks of individuality he'd been able to keep thus far (his hair and armor and cape) he's just gone. He'll never join the others on Popstar. Never enjoy the warmth of a spring day or get to be a sibling to Gooey. He'll never even get to explain things to poor Gooey that they ought to know, and he was probably the only one who could.

It's tragic. It's upsetting. It's unfair.

And it's...important, much as I hate to say it.

Dess secret... but I actually get a little mad when people want Taranza to "...hurry up and find a new girlfriend and stop being in mourning all the time" because... I think it's okay for Kirby to have "a character who is in mourning." I suppose there's no real reason he can't be "character who was in mourning who was able to find love again" but I also kind of like that he's THERE as a character for anyone who has lost a loved one and is still sad about it. For those who haven't begun rebuilding their life just yet.

Gooey is the one who lost someone without every really knowing what he had/could have had. Susie is the one who lost someone and also has to get back to work because that's a real thing too.

I didn't really mean to talk about death and mourning in Kirby (for a second time) but I think part of me had to as well. At least if I was ever going to go back to regular posting. I don't even really feel as if I even captured everything there was to say. Like I said, I don't really have the words.

But, yeah, anyway, if you've ever seen me politely push back when someone brings up Susie or Max discourse of the negative variety on my blog, hopefully you have a slightly better understanding as to why I respond the way I do.

#Kirby #Susanna Patrya Haltmann #max profitt haltmann #sectaranza mention #Dess Text Post #Taranza #Gooey Kirby #Dark Matter Blade #cw death #cw personal #cw illness #I left Elfy and Fecty out of this because that was too much speculation #But you could see them as something similiar

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smidgen-of-hotboy · 2 months

Text

Our Angel of Brahma, pt. x

This is my second time trying to post this, and I think- I think this may the point where I draw the line with the weird fucked formatting Travelers. Hellsite does not like it when I reach the character limit (and I'm tired of fighting it, curses...) CW for: mentioned animal abuse, mentioned assault towards a disabled character, genocide, homelessness. if there is something else you would like warned for, please reach out to me.

@ceaseless-watchers-special-girl @ananxiousgenz @demonic-panini @the-private-eye @gwenlena

SOUND: COMMS BEEPS. RECORDING BEGINS.

BAIRD (REVOLUTIONARY):

I apologized to Iris for my outburst a few days ago. They accepted it without any questions. I still feel guilty, but they aren't willing to drag this out any longer.

The twins are off probation but they still need supervision. Talia goes out with them most days as part of her physical therapy. It's good for her. But she always comes back so tired and wiped out from just walking that she takes days to recover. We don't get days though. We don't know when New Kinshasa is going to change its mind on us again. Today they can give us an early curfew, and the next they can turn the Guardian Angel System on to target everyone old enough to remember the Angel. We don't have a damn clue what they're planning or going to do next...

Uh- this week on Brahma: the Rats gang in the north and the Rats gang in the south are at odds with each other. If the situation escalates any further there's going to a be a damn turf war. Ten years of relative peace and now they're at a tipping point?

(BAIRD SIGHS)

I remember when a mischief of Rats scurried on to our block a few years ago. Charlie, Talia, and I had run a couple of them off years and years prior. And most knew better than to come looking for trouble down our block. Most everyone that was taken care of by Mrs. Darius or taught under Mr. Eber at some point or another knew not to come poking their nose around looking for trouble. But this mischief was new. They didn't know who's grounds they were stepping on or what apartments they were looking to squat in.

When those new kids started making a mess of the streets and tried running circles around the market, I went and took care of them myself. Josie and Hank were so worried for me, but when I got back I just told them that it was no big deal. Just a bunch of homeless kids that needed a place to stay. I wrangled them into place and got them all sorted and now they’re running chores for old-timers like Hank and slipping messages to the other Revolutionaries across Brahma.

Yesterday’s Rats weren’t those same kids though. The twins complained about a group of teenagers mucking around the old daycare. Josie and Iris couldn’t parse much of what they said so they’ve asked me to try talking to them and Talia one on one. And from what I understand, the girls were upset because the Rats kept calling them “Goodies”, and Talia was mostly ignoring them pretty well until one of them chucked a rock at her and Mischa. So now I gotta get involved in another rat problem and either rough ‘em up and shoo ‘em out, or knock enough sense into them they start behaving better.

(BAIRD GROANS)

And honestly, I wanna do neither. I told Hank and Josie back then that I wasn’t scared but really. I was scared shitless. Those kids were easy to talk to though once they realized I’m like them. I’m not a fighter. I don’t go in fists-a-swinging right off the bat. That was always more Talia and Charlie then me… but, Talia can hardly walk most days, and Charlie’s gone. Josie is too busy distributing aid at the rec center, Hank is retired, the twins are afraid of them, and Iris is coordinating with the Old-Timers. Everyone’s either too old, too busy, or too young to deal with problems like these.

(BAIRD TAKES A DEEP BREATH AND LETS IT OUT SLOWLY. HE STRUGGLES TO CLEAR THEIR THROAT)

In other news on Brahma: Ester is now taller than I was at ten. Meaning that I really was just short for being a ten-year-old. Hallie is as tall are Charlie was, but they’ll both probably need another year before they’re as tall as Talia was at their age. I don’t know much about Hank and his life before the Galatic Civil War, but I’m almost certain he came from one of the Solar Planets. Why in any Goddess good name he chose to stay in the Outer Rim and chose to stay on Brahma of all places, I don’t think I’ll ever understand.

(BAIRD COUGHS, BEATS THEIR CHEST, AND COUGHS SOME MORE)

Good grief… I need to ask Iris about something to soothe my throat. Debris keeps falling from New Kinshasa. It burns up before it hits the Dome and can do any real damage, but when I was last in the market, I was talking with one of the vendors and she said her neighborhood was afraid of another Cleansing. The last one was… six years ago? That sounds about right. And the one before that was when New Kinshasa leveled a quarter of Brahma in one day. It still gives me chills just thinking about it.

SOUND: COMMS BEEPS. RECORDING ENDS.

SOUND: COMMS BEEPS AGAIN. NEW RECORDING BEGINS.

BAIRD (REVOLUTIONARY):

Well, that went better than expected.

I paid a visit to the squatters at the old daycare. The youngest looked to be about nine, the oldest gave me a black eye–

IRIS:

They did a lot more than that, now hold still while I stitch your face back together.

BAIRD (REVOLUTIONARY):

Oh c’mon Iris– can’t a guy catch a break? Do you think it’s gonna scar at least?

IRIS:

If it does, no one will notice unless they look for it.

(IRIS GETS LOUDER, AS IF THEY PULLED THE COMMS CLOSER)

For the record: Baird’s brow split open because the Brat was wearing a ring. Baird does have a black eye, but that’s nothing a bit of pain meds can’t help him cope with.

(BAIRD GAGS)

BAIRD (REVOLUTIONARY):

No thanks, I’ll pass. I can cope with the pain.

(IRIS SNORTS)

IRIS:

And… There. All done.

(MOMENTS PAUSE)

BAIRD (REVOLUTIONARY):

You can let go of my face now.

IRIS:

Right, sorry. You look so much like your parents and I just– I miss them.

BAIRD (REVOLUTIONARY):

Well it would kind of be a weird if I didn’t look a little bit like them…

IRIS:

Har-har– think you’re so fucking clever… you were saying though? About how it went better than you expected?

BAIRD (REVOLUTIONARY):

Oh yeah. It did. I got punched in the face and the others got freaked out when I fell backwards because they didn’t know how to get rid of a dead body. One of them came over to check on me and I was mostly fine after they helped me sit up.

The one who punched me didn’t apologize and I don’t need ‘em to. I asked them why they were squatting in the daycare and they said that they didn’t feel safe anymore at their old spot. Apparently the Rats North and South from here drove them out and they each found one another looking for some place to go. I talked to them and they agreed to pack their shit up and get out of the daycare, but they want my help finding someplace they can stay.

(IRIS HUMS)

IRIS:

It sounds like to me, that we’re past a plausible turf war, and are stuck smack dab in the middle of it. I’ll have to bring this up at the next Meeting you know… How do you feel about going to your first Meeting with the others?

BAIRD (REVOLUTIONARY):

Really! You mean that?

IRIS:

Yes. You’re an adult, I trust your decisions, and you have some experience from back when you helped run Talia’s little book club. Plus those meetings are so boring without someone there to keep you company. It’d be nice to have you around to take notes while I nap.

BAIRD (REVOLUTIONARY):

You’re such an ass, you know that?

(IRIS LAUGHS)

SOUND: COMMS BEEPS. RECORDING ENDS.

SOUND: COMMS BEEPS AGAIN. NEW RECORDING BEGINS.

BAIRD (REVOLUTIONARY):

What the fuck!

(IRIS LAUGHS)

No I’m serious! What the fuck was that for the last hour and a half! What the fuck!

IRIS:

Welcome to my world, Baird. I’ve been fighting those ding-bats for the last decade all on my own. They refuse to give me supplies to restock the only functioning Hanataba Clinic left because you live across town now, how are you supposed to take care everyone when you're all the way over in the Est Quarter? I would move back someplace closer if only you would fucking give me what I need! But no! Instead we run circles around and around, have the same passing contests between North and South, East and West, downtown and uptown, and no body fucking wins!

(IRIS PANTS)

BAIRD (REVOLUTIONARY):

Oh. I… had no idea. Really? It's been like this this whole time?

IRIS:

Yes! Baird what’s wrong?

BAIRD (REVOLUTIONARY):

Nothing it’s just… you would move back if they put effort into stocking the Hanataba clinic? You really would?

(A LASPE OF SILENCE. IRIS GASPS)

IRIS:

Oh no no no– no. Baird. Look at me. I would not leave you just like that. You’re my family. I gave up my dream to keep the clinic stocked because I wanted to be there for you and Cyrus. When Hanataba built the clinics, they left each one with a massive handbook covering all sorts of procedures. If the clinic was ever back to half functioning, I’d go back only to show someone else how to keep the lights on.

(IRIS SIGHS)

But there isn’t anyone else, there aren’t more supplies, and the clinic’s generator was probably been siphoned for fuel years ago.

(BAIRD MUMBLES SOMETHING INAUDIBLE)

BAIRD (REVOLUTIONARY):

What if… you weren’t the only Hanataba Clinician the Revolution had to rely on though? What if there was at least one other one?

IRIS:

Come again?

BAIRD (REVOLUTIONARY):

Quid pro quo. You help me get the Rats off the street, out of the daycare, and I help you find someone else to train to run the clinic and justify getting it operating again.

IRIS:

You want to use the Brats?

BAIRD (REVOLUTIONARY):

Just the mischief that got ran off by the bigger gangs. I bet I could even talk them into running messages across the planet. Helping us organize a bit better. Make getting the word out easier… what’s wrong?

IRIS:

Nothing, it’s a great idea Baird…

BAIRD (REVOLUTIONARY):

But?

IRIS:

…but I think the Old-Timers won’t like it. They don’t like the Pests to begin with.

BAIRD (REVOLUTIONARY):

Oh yeah no, they’ll hate this idea. But… I have to try. Right?

(FOOTSTEPS THROUGH AN EMPTY STREET. A FULL MINUTE PASSES)

IRIS:

Yeah. You have to try. I trust your decisions, and I trust you.

BAIRD (REVOLUTIONARY):

So, lets try together.

IRIS:

Yeah… we’ll try together.

SOUND: COMMS BEEPS. RECORDING ENDS.

- This recording takes place a few days after “Decade”. - Baird has mentioned Talia a lot and based off their descriptions it’s likely the neglect and abuse she took from the Constables 10 years prior left her disabled. If not that, in lasting chronic pain. - Baird’s cough does sound very concerning. They sounded awful in the first one (“Belief”). Dust that settles in the lungs can cause scarring. It must have progressively worsened over the years. If they’re alive today I would be shocked. - “Talia’s Book Club” whatever happened to it after Charlie was executed? - Baird’s reaction after attending his first Meeting with other Revolutionary organizers is so much like Eevees’. - Est Quarter: the East Quarter of Brahma. - Baird and Iris’ relationship has changed and improved so much since they were a kid. They’ve clearly grown a lot closer and have a lot of a love for one another. Did Baird’s plan ever get off the ground? Was there another Cleansing? -Frannie’s friend (Ms. Rita) messaged me back with an update on her search for Eevee Bell and Baird Bell. She recommended that I look back through her list for Baird since she said it would take her a week at most to gather everything she could on Eevee Bell. Doing a preliminary search on my own turns up nothing. I don’t know how or where Ms. Rita is getting her information from, and I don’t think I want to know either. The less I know the better (I think). - Though now that I’ve had time to think about it, I could ask her to look into the name Peter Nureyev. I’ve tried searching myself and I haven’t really found anything. Even with the information I’ve gleamed from Camilla and Eevee’s recordings, I haven’t found dick anything. Whoever he is (was?), he very effectively disappeared.

#our angel of brahma #long live the fucked formatting #sigh. oh well.#i will inevitably someday post this on ao3 and put all ~fancy~ formatting from my google doc into the ao3 posting #ask to be tagged or removed #the penumbra podcast #the penumbra fanfic #a hotboy's writing #private eye's keys go jingle jangle #i am also now working on the next installment and strap in folks we are going back into angst hurt no comfort territory. it'll be a doozy

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forensicheart · 11 months

Note

Hi. Can you write a smut scene that starts with love at first sight between the female reader and my favorite Disney villain, Captain James Hook from the original animated Disney Peter Pan 1953 film please? I would appreciate it if you can because I have a serious fan girl crush on him.

Love To Lust

Captain Hook (1953 Film) x Fem Reader

Summary: Love at first sight turns into something more...

Warnings: Oral and vaginal sex (female x male), dirty talk, unprotected sex

A/N: Hey! Thank you so much for the request! The 1953 film has to be one of my favourite versions and I hope I've done it and your request justice <3

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

Neverland had been your home for years, it was peaceful on the island, full of fun and laughter between you and the Lost Boys. It had always been that way, until one day it wasn't. One day, you fell in love and the boys, Peter, wasn't too happy with that.

"I don't think it's right how you feel for him Y/n, I'm sorry but that's how I feel" Peter was very gentle as he spoke, he always was with people, it's one of the reasons you loved him so much. He was like a brother to you and he wanted to protect you but you couldn't let him this time.

"But Peter, he was- he gave me this feeling that I've never felt before, this spark inside of me, this- this sense of adventure, an adventure I have to pursue" You knew what you were saying may have been crazy but as the interaction with this man kept running through your mind your desire to see him again only grew larger.

“He’s the villain Y/n, he’s not a good person and definitely not someone you should be falling in love with” Peter looked desperate as he tried to convince you, he couldn’t have you get hurt.

“Well I’m sorry but you can’t stop me this time Peter, I need to see him again” And without waiting to hear another word from Peter you walked away taking bag you had packed with you from your bed and closing the door to your hut behind you, leaving Peter standing and staring at where you had just stood in defeat.

As you walked you pulled a note out of your pocket and opened it up reading the words written for the 100th time making sure you were heading to the right place. At the end of your interaction the man had slipped you a note, one that told you to meet him at night fall by the shore line where you’d first met.

There was no sign of him once you reached the shore line, you looked around you, turning in circles until you heard a voice coming from the sea. This confused you until you saw his boat, him standing on his boat, lowering an anchor into the water and putting down a ramp that would allow anyone to enter or exit.

“You coming or what?” He spoke, his voice just how you remembered it, it had only been a few hours but it felt like a life time since you had seen him, a lifetime you never wanted to wait before seeing him again. So of course you hurried towards the boat, your shoes getting wet as you walked through the water to reach the ramp. Carefully walking up the ramp and onto the boat, he was waiting for you there, his hand stretched out for you to take, which of course you did.

He led you across the deck of the ship, into the captains cabin and over to the bed where you both sat down.

“I don’t believe I ever formally introduced myself” He spoke looking into your eyes. You smiled at him as you replied.

“No I don’t believe so”

“Captain Hook at your service my dear, but you can call me James” He spoke with a slight bow and you giggled as bowed back introducing yourself.

“Y/n L/n”

“What a beautiful name for such a beautiful girl” A blush formed on your cheek as James compliment you, his hand coming up to tuck your hair behind your ear and you took the opportunity to speak.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you after our first meeting, you’re so handsome and I just felt this feeling that I had never felt before. I knew I had to see you again, I knew I wanted to get to know you more, I had to get to know you more”

“Well aren’t you a sweet thing. Don’t worry darling I felt the exact same way for you. I don’t ever want to let you go now that I’ve got you this close to me. I think I’m falling for you” James confessed and he moved his face closer to yours, one hand cupping your face and the other holding your hand.

“Are you falling for me too?” Your could merely nod, flustered by his words and actions as you swallowed the lump in your throat. With your confirmation James closed the gap between you two kissing you slowly. Your lips moved in a smooth and gentle rhythm together for a few moments because the kisses became for harsh, faster and more desperate. Your hands making there way to his hair as his made their way to your shirt. His actions were skilful as he began to take your clothes off, throwing them to the floor and pushing you to lie down as he removed his clothing discarding them to the floor also.

You both lay naked on the bed now, wasting no time in reattaching your lips in a desperate manner. Your emotions were running wild, your head spinning as James’ lips moved to your neck, sucking and biting, leaving marks in its path. You had barely spoken to him but god had you fallen and fallen hard at that.

“You’re gorgeous my dear, so fucking gorgeous” James spoke lowly, his eyes roaming your body and his hands reached for your breasts, fondling and pinching the hard nipple making you let out a quiet moan. James chucked at your response, continuing his actions as his lips made their way back to your neck as quiet moans continued to spill from your mouth.

“Please” Your words came out quiet as you spoke. James’ actions stopped as you spoke and he looked up at your raising an eyebrow.

“Speak up dear”

“Please James, I want more” James smirked at your words.

“And what exactly is more darling?” You gulped nervously.

“I- I want-“ You turned your head to the side avoiding James’ eyes but he merely grabbed your chin making you look at him once more.

“No need to be nervous, tell me what you want Y/n” You took a breath before speaking.

“I want you to fuck me James” James’ smirk returned at your words.

“Such bold words for such a small girl” His hands ran down your body sending shivers down your back and making you close your eyes. This made you unaware of his next movement, his finger swiping at your entrance making you gasp with shock and delight.

“So wet for me Y/n, but will I fit inside of you?” This was the first time you’d looked down at his body, you looked him up and down, his was handsome beyond belief, like nothing you’d ever seen before and fuck- he was huge. Your eyes widened at the sight making James laugh, he found joy in your reactions, your nerves and your flustered stutters.

“You still want me to fuck you darling?” He asked, your eyes still wide as they looked into his. You didn’t hesitate to nod.

“Yes, please James, stretch me out and fuck me”

“As you wish” He wasted no time in slamming two fingers into you, they were long and slim, quickly moving in and out of you. Your head thrown back at the feeling, your mouth open as your moans grew louder. Adding two more finger James sped his pace, separating his fingers inside of you and stretching you nice and wide for his cock to fit. And that’s exactly what he tested next. Removing his fingers from inside of you he placed his cock at your entrance, pushing slowly inside of you, feeling your wall as stretch around him, still tight but wet making it easy to slide inside of you.

Your head was throw back, your jaw dropped and loud moans of delight spilling from your lips. James took this as an insensitive to keep going. He thrusted in and out of you. Hard and fast, his cock slamming against you, your walls stretching every thrust, quickly adjusting to the size inside of you. Your moans very only increasing in volume by the minute, your hands reaching to grab at James’ arms which were place either side of your head keeping himself up as he pleasured you. Your head reached up to kiss James passionately, as if it was the last thing you’d ever do because your eyes began to roll back into your head, your moans turning into screams and gasps as you squeezed James’ arms tightly, your head dropping back down onto the bed.

“Faster, oh god faster James!” You cried out and James complied right away, grunting as his pace quicken, his thrusts becoming more powerful and pleasurable.

“How’s that feel baby? You feel good?” He asked you, one of his hands moving to your breast as the other kept him hovering above you.

“So fucking good, please don’t stop, you’re amazing” Your words were breathless as you became distracted by every feeling, every emotion, that James was giving you. You were in love and you felt amazing. He knew exactly what he was doing, like he had done it 100 times before, and well he probably had. But the way he he moved inside of you, the way his hands held you in a way that felt so good and so special, you wanted more of him.

“I think I’m going to to cum” You admitted, you felt yourself begin to pulse, tightening even more around James’ cock, squeezing it in a way that made James groan deeply.

“Me too darling, go ahead” And with his permission and one last thrust your toes curled in as you came, one last moan spilling from you as your eyes rolled back and you felt James pull out and finish on your stomach. You breathed heavily as James collapsed besides you making you turn your head to look at him.

“I love you James”

“I love you too Y/n”

#characters #imagines #love #writing #smut #captain james hook #captian hook #james hook #peter pan #the lost boys #love at first sight

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djservo · 8 months

Note

HELLO 😁🤭😋 in my being young hot and sexy moment i almost forgot and checking the calendar was a jumpscare! but i’m here, once again asking for your book wrap up. how was your september reading? (spoiler: mine was awful) horror on the horizon for october? awaiting the deets

always with the end-of-month jumpscares!! I feel like I've only just processed the ending of august, probably bc it was packed to the brim but STILL! crazy!! very solid reads this month, I'll give her (september) that

Cool For You by Eileen Myles

got deja vu while reading and bc it reminded me of Eileen by Ottessa Moshfegh bc they both work in medical institutions and have this similar demeanor towards work so i was like? is Eileen based on Eileen Myles?? but I enjoyed this one far more, really dug her style of writing and generally autofiction as a genre lately. it's like the best of both worlds of more intimate-feeling fiction and memoir without this fragile energy an author sometimes carries when trying to frame their life as accurately as possible. I like how experimental it can get with the form of a novel in a way I thought Myles did seamlessly like all the jumping around different stages of her life really worked for me because there was a nice rhythm to it all. plus her writing voice is just so effortlessly charming + funny + playful, she could make anything sound interesting I'm sure. one of my favorite lines:

“I was a funny and stupid girl—Jesus sliding on a banana peel in the temple."

little silly tidbits like that, I can't not smile!

I Wished by Dennis Cooper

it's crazy to me that I've only started Cooper this year because his writing is so ridiculously special to me now. I was gonna hold off on this one til I've read more of his early poetry, but I think it was actually fitting to follow up my journey with the George Miles cycle with this as it was kinda like a self-reflection on the cycle. now having read several books by him, I realize the necessity of the digesting period each one needs because of how much more I get out of them the longer I ruminate, far removed from a freshly-read state to fully comprehend the piece as a whole if that makes sense. I don't even wanna read my previous blurbs about the cycle books because, though I remember loving them instantly, I'm sure my interpretations were barely scratching the surface of what/how I feel about them now,.... I feel like i've just talked myself into a circle/I've totally lost my grip LMAO but this was very sweet and sad and funny and sad again and it's just a miracle to me how striking his writing is even with how succinct it can be. absolutely beautiful!!

Quarry by Jane White

damn these boys are fucked up !!! I won't get too deep bc a lot of my thoughts come from the climax/ending of this book and I don't wanna spoil in case you ever read, but there's a funny formality running through it all that becomes funnier with every unfolding + atrocious act. surprisingly a lot of gay + incestuous subtext going on that my friend and I kept texting each other during reading like "did I really just read that ..." there were so many layers and dynamics to pick apart, far more than either of us were expecting I think. twas a fun and twisted time and makes me excited to continue on with this theme!!

I think I mentioned before that Quarry was the start of a planned trio, so Lord of the Flies is next which I guess is sorta fitting for October. I was just remembering how I read Jekyll & Hyde last October and am debating if I wanna do another classic (eyeing Frankenstein) or maybe American Psycho finally to dip my toes into Bret Easton Ellis... unsure if I wanna be simply entertained or wholly unsettled, will maybe try and find a perfect in-between balance ⚖️

#asks #cheesehair #reads

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moonstruckme · 4 months

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okay I’m sorry love but I have to rant and didn’t know who to rant to so I hope you don’t mind😭

so Valentine’s Day is coming up and all my friends are talking about their Valentines and it’s kind of upsetting knowing I won’t have one (and haven’t had one in years but this year it hit me hard for some reason, which seems dumb to me. Maybe bc I’ve never made a big deal out of Valentine’s Day like ever) and I like this guy who seems out of my league even though he’s a bit of a nerd (really knows his random history facts) but it’s so cute to me. He’s just total opposite of me, tall, skinny, really pretty, pretty much a god. I know I’m not that ugly but I’ve never seen myself as attractive or anything like that. But I feel like since he’s a twig and I’m a bit thick I would totally get into my head about it 24/7. I’ve only known him this year and it would be weird to even think that anything could happen since I don’t know him as well as I do my other friends but I want something to happen, you know? Like for once I want a relationship with a guy who I think could actually make me happy if it were to ever happen. And I feel miserable when I think about all this stuff. I guess I just kind of need some encouragement maybe? I don’t even know what to do about any of this and it’s hurting me a bit.

Once again, sorry for the rant. Your stories are the best, keep it up darling! love you <3

Hi gorgeous, I don't mind at all!

Maybe it's because I've been single for so many years, but I think we should ban romance from valentine's day! Fuck the original intent, valentine's is for the girlies so we can wear pink and worship heart-shaped things and enjoy little treats. I think it sucks big time that vday is a sad day for so many single people, and that society seems to be saying we should take this time to mourn the relationships we don't have. But! That's just my rant and not at all a reflection on you sweetheart. It makes total sense to feel bummed and a bit lonely if all your friends are celebrating in a way you can't really particpate in! I hope there's a way for you to enjoy the day (even getting yourself some discount chocolate when it all goes on sale)

About this boy: I highly doubt he's out of your league, babe. I mean, I don't know him, but I think to call anyone "pretty much a god" is probably giving them a bit too much credit. And from the sound of it, you're way underestimating yourself. I'm kind of going on the assumption that he's part of your friend group but not one of your closer friends, which I would assume means that on some level, he already likes you enough to be in the same social circle as you and hang out around you. Having a crush like that can be so thrilling and torturous at the same time, don't get me wrong, but I think there's definitely room for possibility there! Maybe you could try getting to know him better within your group? Maybe if you guys start talking more and become more familiar with each other, something will start to spark there? And in the meantime, try to remember how lovely you are. I'm positive you're doing yourself a disservice here.

Update me if you feel like it, love you <33

#mae's asks

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moondancediner · 2 years

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I’m seriously obsessed with Steve and Eddie and I’m totally okay with it

sorry this took so long to respond, i read your message and it inspired something in me

Daylight

summary: Hawkins has gone to hell but Steve and Eddie still find the good in you

Steve Harrington x Reader

Eddie Munson x Reader

gender neutral reader! no y/n

word count: 1.6k

warnings: little mentions of blood, minor editing

This is half Steve, half Eddie falling in love with you while at Skull Rock (both in the regular world and in the Upside-Down) and you being an oblivious idiot. The first half is Steve, the second half is Eddie, you can read them as if they're one story, or two separate ones :)

This is also part of a challenge I've made up myself (maybe, I haven't seen anyone else do it) inspired by Harry Styles' new album Harry's House, where I'll be writing one blurb/one-shot for each song on the album in hopes that it gets me back in the writing groove

masterlist

If I was a bluebird, I would fly to you

You’d be the spoon

Dip you in honey so I could be sticking to you

It was a wonder, really. Steve was amazed by you. This was, what, the fourth time some shit went and threatened the lives of everyone in this damn town and you still managed to hold it all together, keep everyone in check and not have a total mental breakdown.

You stood over by Dustin, body turned so you were half facing the boy and half facing the circle, watching him pace back and forth with general curiosity. Head tilted ever so slightly to the right, eyes following him as he made tracks in the leaves, pausing every couple seconds. Your head would perk up an inch every time he stopped, and Steve thought that you knew something that the rest of them didn't but he was too distracted by the slope of your nose, the fluttering of your eyelashes and the way you fiddled with your hair to say anything about it.

And it turns out, he wasn't wrong.

But he was merely following you, you had this innate sense about trusting people. Your gut never steered you wrong and you always listened to it. Steve could see it on your face the second you thought something was off. It always took you a minute to admit that you knew something wasn't right, you would fidget with your fingers, your brows would nearly touch, and sometimes you would even bite on your thumb nail, but it never failed that you were right on the money. You were even right about Eddie, who Steve was apprehensive to trust, but not you. You sailed right in, distracting the curly haired super senior who was holding something sharp to his neck, talked him off the ledge and it made him jealous that you saved him by being so nice to the freak.

Not that Steve really thought he was a freak anymore.

Steve watched you watch Dustin and Max and Lucas, your eyes bouncing between the kids you and him had somehow become babysitters for. The kids you loved and would protect with your own life.

The thought made Steve's chest tighten.

"Hey, uh, Henderson's not, uh, cursed is he?" Munson asked from his perch on the ground. To be fair, Eddie was taking this all fairly well. Steve was sure he would've run for the hills if a group of kids started telling him that the reason the whole town was out for his blood was because of some freak game character from an alternate dimension.

"Cursed? No, no, he's fine," Steve glanced at Henderson, who was still pacing, but his eyes moved to yours immediately, drawn to you like a magnet. "Mental? Absolutely." Drawn to your lips as he was reminded once again how badly he wanted to press his own to them.

"Boom!" Dustin exploded, making you jump a little. Steve wanted to rush to your side. "Bada... Bada... Boom! I was right!"

And Henderson was right, the little shit. Your body turned towards Steve, eyes lit up with amusement while Dustin explained how, yeah, Steve was right, he knew where all the good make-out spots in Hawkins were - he invented all of them for crying out loud - but Dustin was right too, something that made you smile when you saw how it irked Steve right to his core.

"He's got an attitude problem," Steve complained to you while you all walked to wherever the compass said the baby gate was.

"I know," you smiled, though it was a teasing kind, "he's kinda the worst," but you didn't mean it, and neither did he.

And Steve really thought he was about to have a chance - his big moment - when you were separated enough from the group and you tripped a little over a hidden branch and he reached out to grab your hand, to steady you, and when you squeezed tight and didn’t let go he thought this is it. This is my chance.

"Dustin, slow down!" Someone yelled ahead of you guys and Steve had to fight the urge not to run away with you, to turn around, go back to Skull Rock, take you with him kicking and screaming if he had to because something bad was about to go down at Lover's Lake. He just knew it.

What he didn't expect was for you to dive head first into a pitch black lake to look for a gate to a hell dimension.

Steve's heart almost dropped out of his ass when you took the lead, popping off your shoes and sweater, revealing the undershirt you had on underneath, momentarily distracting him so he couldn't stop you from plunging into the water before he could even get his mustard yellow sweater off his own body.

You didn't even have the flashlight with you.

Steve let out a string of curse words that probably would've made you laugh, had you not already been gone and by the time he caught up with you, you found the gate and was exactly as they had hypothesized, a snack-sized gate compared to the one El closed.

You reached forward, poking at the skin that covered the glowing red portal but Steve grabbed your hand and pushed off the ground, pulling you to the surface as quickly as possible.

"Are you crazy!?" He didn't mean to yell, really, it just... came out. You grabbed onto the side of the boat at the same time as him, taking a second to cast him an unreadable glance before completely ignoring him. Again.

"We found it."

Infuriating. You were infuriating.

And beautiful.

And amazing.

And getting pulled under the water.

And this time, Steve's heart really did fall out of his ass.

Eddie Munson didn’t think anyone in this town was cool enough for him to be into.

Sure, his D&D friends were cool, how could they not be? But that was a different kind of cool, and after years and years he was pretty damn sure nobody was metal enough for him to like like that.

Until he met you.

He didn’t even really know you - a few passing glances in the halls, a shared class or two - you stayed within your group of friends, not bothering to venture too far out. But you managed to talk him off the ledge while he had a piece of shattered glass pressed to The Hairs neck, and your general calmness in the face of danger kept him nearly glued to your side. There was several times where he felt himself gravitating towards you without noticing, having to consciously distance himself so you wouldn’t get weirded out by the freak.

But you never did.

And here you were, arms raised over your head, getting bandaged up by Steve and Nancy because you decided to dive into a dark lake and got yourself nearby eaten alive by daemon bats in a place Henderson called The Upside Down. And when you ripped one of those demobats nearly in half, Eddie almost proposed right then and there.

You were cool. You were metal. You were fuckin’ Hard. Rock.

Even as you bit back tears while Harrington tightened Nancy’s scrap of shirt around your exposed abdomen.

He wanted to hold your hand and kiss your pain away. Make you laugh so he could see that smile that belonged on the cover of every magazine in the country. Which was stupid, because, again, he didn’t even know you.

And he wanted to punch Harrington for hurting you. Which wasn’t a new feeling because Steve was always a capital D, Dick in school.

“You okay?” You appeared next to him while everyone high tailed it to the Wheeler house in search of the girls guns and another way out of here.

“Me? Shit, shouldn’t I be asking you that?“

You laughed a little and Eddie wondered what your lips tasted like.

“Honestly? I’ve been worse, you just found out about all this like, what, a couple hours ago? I’d be losing my shit if I were you,” you were wearing his denim vest to cover up what the bats had torn apart, the now tattered shirt you had been wearing under your sweater only covered the upper part of your body and Eddie was only being polite when he offered it to you. "Thanks for saving my ass back there by the way."

"Me? Shit, you saved your own ass. Very Ozzy of you." Eddie leaned closer to you as walked side by side, one of his feet lifted in the air to counter his balance and you smiled at him and didn't push him away when he got too close.

"You think so?"

Eddie watched the smile take over your cheeks and felt that all was right in the world again.

"Hell yeah, you're a total badass. The way you just dove into that water," Eddie just shook his head, still walking close enough that his arm would bump your own every couple steps, but you didn't move away and you didn't seem to mind and he couldn't find it in himself to stop, "shit, I could never do something like that."

"I think you'd be surprised by what you would do for the people you love... those people, those kids... that's my family and I'm not gonna let anybody hurt them again."

"That's pretty metal," was all Eddie could think to say. Was all he could say, because if he let his mouth just... go, he was afraid he might say too much.

And you smiled and laughed and Eddie promised himself he would get you out of here without another scratch.

Want more? All you gotta do is ask babes

#fanfic friday #mine #steve harrinton #eddie munson #stranger things #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson x reader #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things x reader #steve harrington x y/n #eddie munson x y/n #fluff #cuteness #christel tag #crescentwolf

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