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ursuburbanmother · 1 month

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I’m On Fire, But I’m Trying Not to Show It || Chapter Two

Pairing: Angus Tully x fem!reader

a/n: Hi guys! Back with chapter two!! Thank you for all the love last chapter! You guys are too sweet! I hope you like this chapter as well, although we get a little angsty in this one oops. Also author note at the end!

Word count: 5k.

Find: Part 1 Part 3 Part 4

Enjoy!

December 17, 1970. Still.

Paul Hunham didn’t think his luck could get any worse but then that moron at the Janie Patrick's Girl School had to go make his problems, his. Then at the young lady’s arrival Angus Tully practically had hearts popping out his eyes like those cartoon characters on TV. That would be an issue. An issue he had to deal with at once.

As the boys grumbled and moaned on their way to the infirmary, as if they were the Athenians sent to march to Marathon in 490 BC, he made his way to the kitchen, looking for a certain cook.

“Hello, Mary,” he greets. She sits at her desk with a cigarette between two fingers, writing something down in her notebook.

“Mr. Hunham. I heard you got stuck with babysitting duty this year. How’d you manage that?” Her tone tiptoes on the edge of teasing.

“Oh, I don’t know. I suppose I failed someone who richly deserved it.”

“The Osgood kid? Yeah, he was a real asshole. Rich and dumb. Popular combination around here.”

“It’s a plague. Uh, and you? You’ll be here, too?” God, he hopes she is. He doesn’t think he will be able to survive as the only adult on the school grounds.

To his relief she nods her head, “All by my lonesome. My little sister Peggy and her husband invited me to go visit them in Roxbury, but I feel like it’s too soon. Like Curtis will think that I’m abandoning him, you know. This is the last place my baby and I were together, not including the bus station.”

Paul pursues his lips, unsure of what to say. “Well, maybe you won't be completely alone. How would you feel about letting a female student sleep in the staff common room? We could push some couches together, I'm sure. Make a nice bed that way.”

“Female student? What do you mean?”

“I’m unsure about the exact details, but I have been entrusted by the idiots across the lake with taking care of one of their students.”

“Ahh,” Mary is beginning to understand.

He nods, “Her name is Y/n L/n, I think she and Tully are in cahoots somehow. You should've seen the way he looked at her.”

“Oh no, don't do that though. You can’t have that poor girl sleep on a lumpy couch all break. She needs a bed.”

“I just want this whole ordeal to go smoothly. If I can keep those two as far away as possible, I believe all will be well.”

“Please that Tully boy wouldn't try anything. Sometimes he is the only one to say thank you when we place the food down on the lunch tables.”

Paul mulls it over for a second. “I suppose I could give it a try. Not that I think it is wise.”

Mary smiles slightly, “I know those kids are hard to handle but hold out hope for them. Some trust too. It's not too late yet. Their brains are still moldable or whatever corny crap you teachers say.”

Paul smiles slightly, his attention pulled to the bottle of bourbon on her desk, “You mind if I uh…”

“You want some of that? All right.”

“Thank you.”

“You know this is a necessity,” Mary says as she pours the liquid into a mug for him.

“Oh yes,” for life, love, pain or the next two weeks. Paul understands too well.

…

“Put the bed farther away Angus,” you say, your arms on your hips and you watch him struggle to drag his bed closer to yours.

“Why? Do I smell or something?”

“It's already a stretch to think he might let us sleep in the same room, he's definitely not going to let your bed be that close to mine.”

Huffing he begins to scoot it back to its original place, “Fine.”

Music has started blaring loudly from where Teddy and Jason are bunking in. Park and Ollerman are minding their business in their own space. You are across, what you think will be the place Mr. Hunham will stay in. Your hope is that him having an accessible view will make him more lenient towards you and Angus, despite his earlier warning of having you be on your own.

You situate your lavender near the window and begin to unpack your things. Angus does the same and you can hear his rustling get faster.

“What's wrong?” You ask.

“My…” He trails off. Suddenly he storms off like a man on a mission. You ignore the magazine you were flipping through and let it fall on the floor as you get up to follow him.

You see him head directly towards Kountze. “Where’s my photo?”

“What photo?”

“I think you know what photo, and you stole it.”

“I resent that baseless accusation.”

“Give me my goddamn picture!” Angus shouts.

“Hey man, if you took the photo just give it back,” you plead exasperatedly to Teddy, already tired of his whole innocent act.

“Stay out of it Y/n, it's alright,” Angus assures you and you move back to lean against the doorway. You sort of hope Angus socks him.

Kountze leaps to his feet and stalks towards him, “You need your girlfriend to defend you now? Seriously, what's your problem, Tully? Homesick? Maybe the little boy misses his mommy?”

“Fuck you, Kountze. Leave her out of it. And hey, why are you even here anyway? Where’s your family?”

“We’re renovating our house. It’s all torn up. They’re storing the tools and stuff in my room.” “That’s what they told you? It’s winter, idiot. Nobody renovates their house in the winter. Your parents don’t want you around because you’re a fucking insecure sociopath.”

“Hey, take it easy, guys.”

You can see Angus getting angrier. His shoulders are tense and in a last ditch effort you go up to him and whisper in his ear, “Punch him later. In private. Hunham won’t even hear our reasoning for rooming together. He’ll punish you by punishing me.”

Misery loves company, right? That was the saying at least. In your mind, suffering with Angus was better than the alternative. You didn’t want to spend these two weeks inside a glass case. From what you had seen, Hunham would have no problem in making you sit at your own lunch table or study in a separate classroom. You know that is what Ms. Orchard would have done if she was forced to take in the boys. She would have locked you in your dorm and insisted it was because you would “distract” them.

You can see the gears turning in Angus’s mind. He bites the inside of his cheek and finally nods before turning back to glare at Kountze. “You’re an asshole. I just needed you to know that.”

He turns around to retreat back to the room only to run straight into Mr. Hunhams chest. Angus leaps off and leans his back against the wall. Your own eyes widened, you hadn’t even heard the man's footsteps.

He surveys the room and notes all your disheveledness. Teddy's face looks flushed while Angus is still trying to control his heavy breathing. Everyone is completely silent and too scared to even make a move.

“What is going on here?”

“They weren’t fighting,” Alex squeaked. Mr. Hunham only seems to grow more suspicious. He shifted his sights to you and his eyebrow begins to raise, “They weren’t bothering you were they.”

“No. We were just talking,” you swallow the lump in your throat.

“What about?”

“Hmm?” You hum, straightening up.

“What were you all discussing mere seconds before I barged in on what, I am sure, was a highly intellectual conversation.”

“Shocking Blue,” you blurt out and Hunham turns his head as if asking for clarification. “The band that was on the radio.”

“Yeah, we love Shocking Blue,” Angus nods. The rest of the boys chime in, faking their agreement.

“They’re so good.”

“I listen to them all the time.”

Mr. Hunham continues to look unconvinced. Without a word he walks out, and you all collectively let out a sigh of relief. For a moment, you all stare at each other with giddiness. Like when you're a kid and get away with stealing a cookie from the cooling tray. You let yourself relax but shrivel back up upon the echo of Mr. Hunham's haunting voice, “Mr. Tully, Ms. L/n, in here. NOW.”

You frown, gazing up at Angus, “I think he found the room.”

…

After a stern talking to, Mr. Hunham begrudgingly agreed to let you and Angus sleep in the same room. He took a string of jingle bells that hung from a nearby Christmas decoration and tied it around Angus’s bedpost so that if he dared to move, he would hear it. You two were just fine with that.

Later you were escorted to the large dining hall. Mr. Hunham sat at the head of the table as the rest of you indulged in mindless chatter. You and Angus were on your third round of rock, paper, scissors, competing for nothing, when a lady came in to set down a platter of chicken, potatoes and asparagus.

“Lovely. Thank you, Mary.” the older man says.

You wait for the initial rush of grubby hands and pushing elbows to pass before you serve yourself, when you find that Angus already did it for you. He sets down the plate in front of you and then gets himself a serving of the green vegetable on his own dish.

“Didn’t we already have this for lunch?” Jason asks.

“And it was crappy then,” Teddy says through his eager chewing. You gag at the scene.

“Consider yourselves lucky. During the third Punic campaign, 149-146 B.C., the Romans laid siege to Carthage for three entire years. By the time it ended, the Carthaginians were reduced to eating sand and drinking their own urine. Hence the term punitive.”

The woman from earlier, that you now know is Mary, returns with some water. You give her a passing smile which she returns.

“Mary, maybe you’d, um, maybe you would care to join us,” Hunham stumbles through his words.

Kountze looks up from his food then glances at you with alarm. Like he can't fathom the idea of sitting with the cook.

You think Mary can sense his disdain when you notice her demeanor sour after a glimpse in his direction. “No, I’m all right. Thank you.” She escapes through the kitchen doors.

Teddy pipes up, “I mean, I know she’s sad about her son and everything, but still, she’s getting paid to do a job. And she should do it well, right?”

The chewing and scraping of silverware halts. You and Angus gauge each other's reaction, both of you completely shocked and slightly horrified. That boy for some reason just never knows when to shut up and continues, “But I guess no matter how bad a cook she is, now they can never fire her.”

“Will you shut up!” Mr. Hunham yells loud enough for you to flinch. He slams his fork and knife down. “You have no idea what that woman has… For most people, Mr. Kountze, life is like a henhouse ladder -- shitty and short. You were born lucky. Maybe someday you entitled little degenerates will appreciate that. If you don’t, I feel sorry for you, and we will not have done our jobs. Now eat!”

…

You're on your bed and catching up on some reading and soaking in the orange hue that the bedside lamp offers you. The boys are still getting ready for bed, and you were graciously offered the first shift in the showers. You’re waiting for your hair to dry when Angus walks in with his pajamas on, and a towel draped over his shoulders.

“You look very dapper,” You smirk.

“Thank you,” he plops down into his mattress. “You think Walleye is still mad?”

“Probably. I don’t blame him.”

“It made for a pretty awkward evening though.”

“Not one of the worst dinners I ever had. I’d rather endure another night like this than any dinner with my parents.”

“Oh yeah,” he sighs, “Your parents... You never did tell me the reason why you’re here holding over.”

You shuffle around in your bed and bring your blanket up to your neck, “Doesn’t matter.”

“Come on, it's just me now. Tell me. I told you!”

“It's no big reason, just small ones. They didn’t specify. I didn’t want to go home. It's complicated.”

“Okay you just gave like four different excuses right there. What happened? Is it super embarrassing? Did they forget about you or something,” he laughs.

You wince at his words and pray that the world opens up and swallows you whole. Realization dawns on his face, “Oh shit. Did they?”

You nod solemnly and begin picking on the thread of the blanket, trying to make the threading come undone.

“How could they do that? The same assholes who always make a huge deal about RSVPs and invitations. Seriously?”

“It’s alright. I’ll live. I mean what would I have done if I was there? I’d be in my room and waiting for them to drag me out so they could introduce me to people. They’d act like doting parents, ditching me a second later to play blackjack with their friends.”

“I’m sorry. I wish you would have told me, we could’ve… I could have done something.”

You smile, “I didn’t tell you cause I know you. You would’ve cursed them out the minute you had hold of them. Anyways, maybe it was faith to get stranded at Barton.”

“Or bad luck,” he quips, “maybe the universe wants us to die of mundanity together.”

“Either or,” you grin. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore. Let's go to bed.”

Angus nods and spreads his long limbs across the bed exaggeratingly before turning to face the wall. “Whatever you want. Goodnight, Y/n.”

“Goodnight,” you go to turn off the lamp, wondering if you're being paranoid in sensing something off in the way he says your name.

…

December 20, 1970

The last few days had been the same grueling routine. Mr. Hunham would wake you up with the banging of bedpans and you would groan and try to shove yourself deep into your pillows.

“All right, you fetid layabouts,” he would say, “It’s daylight in the swamp. Arise!”

In the quad you were all forced to run laps. You hadn’t anticipated doing exercise, so you were forced to wear some joggers from the lost and found. You had been able to convince him that walking would be better suited for you and your imaginary cramps. His face had completely paled, and he hadn’t even let you finish speaking when he said you walking would be just fine. Men and their immaturity, you think.

When Angus and the rest of the boys would pass by you, he would glare jokingly at you while you would stick your tongue out and wave him goodbye as he flew past you.

During study hall, you would read some more and ignore the ongoing feud between Kountze and Angus. In the span of the last few days, you must have read three entire books. There was a lot of downtime in between recreational time with Mr. Hunham and dinner.

Today you had all decided to walk along the river. You can hear the church bells in the distance signaling the fact that it is the afternoon. Angus is swinging around a branch while Teddy and Jason pass around a football. You steer clear of both. You walk in sync with Alex and Ye-Joon. You’ve taken a liking to them. They remind you of the little sibling you always wanted but never got.

“What about your car?” Angus suggests, “We could take it, go somewhere. Boston maybe.” Jason shakes his head, “Nah, we’d get in so much trouble. Face it. We’re stuck.”

“If we just had some way to get out of here. Just split,” Angus kicks a pile of snow.

“Well, you could put a chopper down right in the Quad.”

“A what?”

“A helicopter, dumb ass,” Teddy snaps, “His old man’s CEO of Pratt & Whitney.”

“Got his own bird,” Jason confirms, “Takes it from Stamford to the city every morning. Lands right in our backyard. Pilot’s name, Wild Bill.”

“Wild Bill?” Ye-Joon awes.

“Yeah. Flew up to Haystack with it. Took the presents and everything. Minus me,” he shrugs.

“Flying with presents, like Santa Claus,” Alex comments with glee.

“Yeah. Just like Santa Claus.”

Jason whistles and tilts his head for Teddy to “go long.” They play catch, getting farther from the group as they go.

“If I was back home right now back in Provo, it would be really warm inside, and my mom would be making baked apples, and the whole house would smell like cinnamon and brown sugar,” Alex reminisces. You smile sadly at the boy.

“That sounds so nice,” Ye-Joon agrees.

Kountze runs back suddenly and grabs one of Alex’s gloves and throws it into the river.

“What's wrong with you?” You intervene.

“Hey!” Alex says simultaneously.

“That’s what you get for ratting me out, little Mormon,” Teddy laughs, not an ounce of regret at what he just did. You tap Angus’s shoulder as you go trailing after the young boy, “I’m going to go help.”

“It’s gone! My glove’s gone!” Ollerman shouts. You continue searching for it through the clearing.

“Twisted fucker orphaned that glove on purpose. Left you with one so the loss would sting that much more,” Angus shouts back.

Ollerman looks to be on the verge of tears. He stares down at his hands and starts walking down a snowy ramp. He throws the other glove before you can do anything to stop it. He watches it disappear downstream as you make your own way down.

“Did your mother make you that?”

He nods. “It’s alright. I know where he keeps his wallet. We’ll steal it and buy a new one.”

You manage to bring out a muffled laugh from him. You consider it a win.

…

Angus wakes up in the middle of the night to see you knitting. He gets up from the bed to see your progress.

“Oh hello, grandma,” he scoffs. “When did you learn to do that?”

“Girl scouts before I quit. You guys had a bunch of yarn just rotting behind your auditorium stage. Did you know that?”

“No? Are you making that for the kid?”

“Yeah, I feel bad.”

“That looks like crap,” Angus chuckles as he messes around with the gloves fingers. You swat his hand away.

“I never said I earned the badge. Besides, it's the thought that counts.”

“I’m going to get a glass of water. You want some?”

“No thanks.”

Angus leaves the room, only to return a couple seconds later.

“Ye-Joon is crying,” he whispers. You furrow your eyebrows and get up to follow him. His cries become louder, and you turn the corner to see the poor boy shivering.

“Are you all right?” You ask.

“I had a nightmare,” You crouch down so you can hear him better.

“Don’t worry we get nightmares too. Right Angus?”

“Yeah, I’m always falling. Or drowning.”

“Also, I had an accident,” he weeps.

You motion for Angus to check. He doesn't have to look far.

“Yeah, you did. Shhh. Stop crying. If they hear you, they’ll crucify you. Which would be ironic, since you’re Buddhist.”

“I know it’s an excellent school, and my brothers went here. But I miss my family, and I have no friends,” he sobs full-on. You hush him gently.

“You have plenty of time to make friends. You’re like a freshman, right? I would start worrying when you're fifty and living vicariously through your kids.”

“Yeah man. You could have a thousand friends and not like any of them. What would be the point of having them then,” Angus adds.

“We’ll help you hide the sheets in the morning, all right?” You wipe his tears with a tissue from a Kleenex box nearby. “Find a dry spot and try to get some sleep.”

“Thank you,” Park smiles consoled. Before going back to bed you ask him one last thing, “Hey do you like gloves?”

Ye-Joon gives you a quizzical look. …

December 22, 1970

Once again, you’re all studying in silence in a fancy room with portraits of dead white guys on the wall.

Mr. Hunham clears his throat loudly and Jason leans in to mutter in disgust, “Are you kidding me? It’s only eleven and he’s already lit. I can smell the whiskey on him.”

“Can you blame him? It’s freezing in here. It’s fucking Greenland in here,” Angus retorts.

From outside you hear the faint whirring of a machine. Not a car but something else. You all approach the window and spot the helicopter flying above the trees. It lands in the quad just like Jason had said it could. An older man steps out and he looks like one of the men you imagine roam Wall Street.

“He finally caved, the big softie!” Smith exclaims. He all but skips to the door and turns to you all, “Hey, any of you guys like to ski?”

You and Hunham stay behind as the rest go racing after him, filled with hope for what must be the first time in days. He goes to subdue the riot they make as they whoop down the hall, but you stop him by grabbing a hold of the end of his sleeve.

“Uh, sir? If Jason is inviting us, would you have to call our parents?”

“That would be proper protocol, yes.”

“Oh. Is there a way I could stay here then? I never cared for skiing and my parents would say no anyway.”

“Let's not get ahead of ourselves. I’d have to ask Woodrup about this first. Come on along,” he clears the path for you.

Grumbling, you find your way to the administrative offices. Hunham, Jason and his father shut themselves in a room. The boys along with Angus all try to listen in on the conversation by pressing their face as close as humanly possible against the glass. You watch from the sideline as Jason gives you guys a thumbs up. The hallway erupts in cheers and a minute later Mr. Hunham steps out with an announcement, “Gentlemen, good news. I was able to reach Dr. Woodrup and your parents. Most of them, anyway.”

Paul glances at Angus and you. Angus expression falters.

As the rest pack, you find refuge in your room. You can, however, hear Angus’s pleads.

“Try calling again. Just one more time. Please.”

“There’s no point. The desk clerk said no one’s answering. He says they’re away on some excursion.”

“Excursion,” he repeats.

Mr. Hunham scoffs, “I’m as disappointed as you are, if not more so. I could be spending the rest of my vacation reading mystery novels.”

“Maybe they’re back by now. Just call again.”

“Okay,” he gives in and marches down the corridor.

Ye-Joon had wished you goodbye a moment ago and now does the same for Angus, “Happy Holidays.”

“Same to you.”

“Take care, Tully.” Smith follows Park, giving him a pitiful pat on the arm.

You catch Alex as he is about to exit. You’ve wrapped the gloves you worked on endless last night in newspapers. “This is for you. Try not to get them stolen by Teddy again. I don’t think my fingers can handle another round of knitting.”

Ollerman smiles genuinely, giving you a hug you didn’t expect. You’re unable to return it as he has your stiff arms completely glued to your side. You follow him out, and Angus scowls in your direction.

“Why aren’t you more upset about this? That was our only way out and we blew it.”

“Don’t be so dramatic. Did you really want to go skiing with Kountze that badly?”

“No, I wanted to get out of here badly. Your parents seriously didn’t answer either?”

“Um-.”

“Hey, you know what! Maybe Hunham can call them again and they can take us both in!”

“Angus no-,”

“Yeah, come on! Let's go ask,” he tugs at your hand to get you through the corridor.

“No Angus. I don’t want to.”

“What, why?”

You run your hand through your hair, “I asked Mr. Hunham not to ring them.”

“Wait. So, you didn’t even try to leave!”

“No! I thought I was clear the night we talked about why I didn’t want to go back to that house. If they answer they’ll pull the victim card and be all ‘I can’t believe you guys kept my child from me! Who do I sue?’ before coming to fetch me and berating me all the way back.”

“Listen, I wasn’t going to say anything because I could tell you were upset but you could have at least let them know for both our sakes. Then we could have spent the holidays in a hotel in Boston or something! We didn’t have to stay with them.”

“I knew you were off that night!” You curse the way you’ve managed to read him. “Anyways, with what money? To do what?”

“I don’t-, I don’t know… we could have figured it out.”

“I can’t believe you're getting mad at my decision.”

“It’s a pretty selfish one,” his eyes widened like he couldn't believe the words that came out of his mouth.

You gasp and hit him harshly at his side. “Ow!” he yelps.

“You’re being an asshole right now. I’ve never been madder at you in my entire life.”

“Really? What about that time I spilled mashed potatoes all over your dress? Your face was beet red,” he mocks.

You go to swat at him again only for him to dodge you. You try once more and fail, almost falling onto the floor but stopping yourself by putting your hand on the nearest wall. If you weren’t so angry this would have reminded you of the times you would wrestle when you were eight. Especially now and the way he holds you back by putting his hand on your forehead to keep you at arm's length. You give up with a huff and you b-line to your room.

“Tell Mr. Hunham I won't be at dinner tonight!”

You hear him groan behind the door you slammed shut and then the sound of his footsteps fading. In your solitude you collapse on the bed, letting out a scream into your pillow. Even though it's muffled, you hope Angus can feel it from where he is. That it reaches him and causes goosebumps to arise all over his stupidly long arms. …

You had skipped out on dinner like you said you would. Although Mr. Hunham had been polite enough to bring a plate down to the infirmary. As he handed it to you, he said lowly, “I’m not sure what that little deviant did, but I’m sure it's related to his foul mood and your absence tonight. Let me know if I can do anything.”

You almost wanted to cry at his politeness. Later he invited you to the kitchen common room and claimed there was a TV there. Considering you had only stared at words on a page for the last few days, you jumped at the offer. You saw Mary there and to your displeasure Angus had been forced to tag along so that Mr. Hunham could supervise him.

Your eyes were glued to the television, not letting Angus’s burning stare get the best of you. They were watching “The Newlywed Game” and drinking from mugs. It was not half-bad. In fact, it was starting to get pretty good to see these couples have their relationship crushed within a thirty-minute runtime with ad breaks in between.

The boy had begun throwing pieces of balled up paper at you and you picked them off your hair and tried your damnedest to not pay him any mind. You could hear him tear a new page from that magazine of his and finally you snapped at him. “Will you stop it? You’re wasting paper.”

“Thank God. You’re talking to me,” he stood straighter in his seat. “Here's the thing, I'm sorry. I should have never said that you were selfish. Cause you’re like, not. You’re honestly the most unselfish person I know.”

“I don’t want your apology right now. I’m watching TV.”

“I just got caught up in the moment is all. The truth is that-.”

“Angus, I said I don’t want to hear it!” You raised your voice loud enough to catch the attention of both Mr. Hunham and Mary.

“Everything alright back there?” Hunham takes the pipe out of his mouth to ask.

You get up, brushing invisible dust off your skirt. “Can I be excused. I’m pretty tired.”

“That’ll be fine.”

“Thank you,” You pick up your discarded book from the nearby coffee table before leaning down and whispering in Angus' ear, “Don't follow me.”

As you stomp away you hear Mary say, “We need to get those two onto this program. Win us a trip to Bermuda.”

Mr. Hunham lets out a suppressed chuckle, embracing it soon after along with Mary. You roll your eyes at the pair and their drunkenness. You’re comforted by the fact that they’ll have a big headache tomorrow. …

You’re shaken at a frantic rate. You went to sleep early but were awoken now by a mischievous looking Angus. He dangles a set of keys right in front of your face.

“What are you doing?” You squint under the harsh glare of the flashlight.

“Inviting you on a night of adventure. Walleye is completely blacked out. He won’t even notice us gone.”

“No thank you,” you turn away from him and drape your blanket over your head. He tugs it back down.

“Come on. Please?”

“I’m still not in the mood. Plus, now I’m tired.”

“Y/n,” he whines.

“If you find a cookie in a pantry somewhere you know what to do,” you murmur, already being lulled back to sleep by the warmth you feel under the covers.

“Y/n,” he says more seriously, “I am sorry.”

“I know,” you sigh. Maybe you had been too harsh. You prop yourself up on your elbows, “It’ll be better tomorrow. We will talk then.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

He embraces you tightly in a hug. As he parts away, you two are face to face. You’re able to notice his eyes gleam under the light of the moon. You wonder when his eyes got to be that dark of a brown. Those same eyes flicker to your lips. You stare at him wearily as he clears his throat, scratching the back of his neck. He walks backwards to leave, his back bumping into a nearby lamp. “Shit. Sorry. Uh, goodnight. Bye.”

You were probably disorientated. Sleep deprived most definitely. Or maybe that secondhand smoke finally got to you. Surely you were just seeing things. Because surely, your best friend hadn’t just looked at you the way songs and books always seemed to describe love.

a/n: Thanks again for reading! Just to clarify some things, obviously Y/n knows about Angus’s dad, but just like in the movie, he doesn’t let it show how much it affects him. That’s why Y/n is unaware of why Boston is such a big deal. Anyways bye :)) until next time. Let me know your thoughts.

#angus tully x reader #angus tully #the holdovers

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chubbyreaderchan · 1 year

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Fight | Poly!Lost boys x GN!reader

Warnings: Canon typical violence, reader gets touched by a rando, fighting, first time writing a fic for the Lost Boys.

Summary: An outsider thinks the reader is selling themselves to the Boys and thinks it’s okay to harass her, right in front of them!

Music blared through the boardwalk; the boys surrounded you, their human mate enjoying the show. Paul was dancing and laughing with Mark, David was smoking leaning against a railing eyeing the crowd for their dinner, and you were leaning against the chest of Dwayne. His hands rested on your hips as you moved to the music.

You couldn’t help but laugh watching your boys just be that your boys. Paul swaggered up to you, a big goofy grin on his face, and pressed a tongue and teeth-filled kiss against your lips. You laughed again as he pulled away mouthing the words to the song being sung before practically tackling Marko. The cute cherub was one wrong move from a fight constantly, and Paul almost got decked, almost. Only stopped because Marko realized who it was. You couldn’t help but shake your head at the antics of your boyfriends.

You pat at your jacket pockets and count to see how much cash you had before deciding to break off to get overly expensive concert water.

“I’m gonna be back,” you pulled slightly from Dwayne, who gently held your wrist as you pulled back.

“What’s up, sweetheart,” he asked.

“Just thirsty, I’ll be back,” You gave him a quick peck on his lips weaving a bit.

You gently lay a hand on David’s shoulder; his crystal blue eyes stare up at you his hand touching yours.

“Water,” you respond to his look. “I’ll be fine you keep thinking about dinner, okay?”

David didn’t say anything, just gave you a mildly annoyed look before scoping the crowd letting your hand slip through his.

It was a surprisingly short line, most likely due to the booth running out of alcohol and everyone moving on to a different one. Yet it seemed to take a lot longer for the attendant to get your water, you didn’t mind waiting. It was nice to step away from the crowd a bit, and take a breath of… not exactly fresh air but air not suffocating from the stench of body odor and general wet-butt-concert smell.

It was a wonder your boys could stand the stench.

You leaned against the counter of the booth, back turned slightly from the crowd, tapping on the wood to the drum beat as best as you were able. Two cold and thin hands ran over your ass, a smile on your face assuming it was Paul or Marko only to turn and be shocked to see… some guy.

Great. “How much do they pay you,”

“What?”

“To have all of them all over you, they gotta pay good to gang bang you, eh?” He grabbed at your face, but you pushed him off.

“What the fuck do you think you are doing?” David’s voice was loud.

Relief of not needing to fight some asshole washed over you.

“C’mere kitten,” He called you, and you morphed into the group of biker punks.

Marko looked like a ticking time bomb about to explode on the guy. He thought he was being slick. Smooth. Trying to get on their mate.

That wouldn’t happen.

Ever.

“Oh, you who I talk to about how much a fuck with them is?” he said right to David’s face.

The platinum blonde sneered, tossing his cigarette to the ground. But Marko was quicker. His fists flew hard, potentially breaking the bone of the man.

They were crowding around ready to tear him apart, Dwayne the only one holding back to keep you from getting involved.

They only stopped when security arrived, throwing the whole fighting group out of the venue.

“You guys don’t have to do that,” you tell them, walking back to their bikes.

You mount Marko’s feeling like you need to hold onto him the most. He joins you on his bike, allowing you to wrap your arms around his middle.

“Doll, we won't let you be disrespected like that,” David said, lifting your chin with his gloved finger to face him.

His touch elicited a happier feeling than that of the groping bastard. A smile cracks on your lips, and David presses a quick kiss to them.

“At least we have dinner now,” Paul said, pinching your cheek playfully before mounting his bike.

You lean against Marko, cheek against his patterned jacket. “Thanks for defending my honor, Marko,”

“Of course, dove. What kind of mate would I be if I let someone treat you like that,”

With that, they kicked off their bikes and recklessly took you back to the cave.

#poly lost boys x reader #the lost boys x reader #dwayne x reader #marko x reader #paul x reader #david x reader #tlb x reader #tlb #the lost boys imagine #fanon #poly #idk tbh #something i think about #cuz it was the 80s #also i head canon if their mate is chubby that paul loves pinching their cheeks

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britany1997 · 1 year

Text

Let’s Motor

I genuinely wasn’t expecting the response to Rev Your Engines that I got, I was feeling very insecure about my writing when I posted it and I’m crying that y’all loved it so much😭 (read part one here)

I’ve also decided on subsequent fics to indicate when I won’t be writing any more parts, so this will be the final part to this series:) hope y’all love it!

Pre-read by my motorcycle expert adopted brother @pixielostboy 🥰

Poly! Lost boys x GN motor expert reader

🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇

You rolled out from under your 1953 Buick wildcat, smearing your hand across your face as you attempted to wipe it clean of oil.

When you’d finished your shift for the night, your boss was kind enough to let you use the shop’s tools to fix up your own ride.

The tune ups were going well, but you still took your Harley to work instead, hopeful you’d run into the strange group of rockers from a few days ago.

You checked your watch and sighed. Lately you’d tended to drag your feet, just in case the biker boys did drop by, but after days of waiting, you’d finally decided they weren’t coming.

That is until you heard the familiar mumbling of four motors pulling up behind you. You chuckled to yourself as you pulled a bandana from your back pocket to wipe your brow and turned around.

Your face fell as you realized the sight in front of you was not the four weirdos you were hoping to meet again, but another group of leather clad bikers.

You sighed and turned back to pack up your things.

“Expectin’ someone?”

You whipped your head around to lock eyes with a smirking Paul, leaning against a broken down truck one of your coworkers had been fixing up.

“Hello again,” you raised an eyebrow as you wiped down your tools, “where ya been?”

“Been busy sugar,” he explained, “didn’t mean we didn’t wanna come.”

Your lips turned up against your will as you shrugged in reply, “maybe I wanted to see you guys too.”

Paul’s face lit up at your words.

“Why didn’t I hear your bike pull up?” you asked.

“Got one of those silent mufflers, bike don’t make a sound,” he told you.

Your brow furrowed in confusion. Silent mufflers? “What?”

“Kidding babe, just didn’t wanna move the bikes from the boardwalk, I uh walked over.”

You scoffed, “isn’t it like a five mile walk?”

Paul rubbed the back of his neck nervously, “yeah I uh, I walk fast.”

You snorted, “whatever Paulie, you want a ride back on my bike?”

“Yes please,” he sing-songed as he practically skipped over to your side.

You mounted your Harley before Paul slid in behind you. “Hold on tight yeah?” you told him.

“Don’t gotta tell me twice sugar,” he said as his arms slid around your middle. He squeezed your sides gently causing you to flinch.

“Maybe not that tight,” you laughed.

Paul moved his hands to rest on your hips as you nudged up your kickstand with your heel before reving your engine and taking off down the road.

The short drive to the boardwalk gave Paul’s hands many opportunities to wander from your hips, but luckily for him you didn’t mind too much.

You parked your bike to the side of Max’s video as both you and Paul slid off and walked toward the three other boys loitering near the pier.

“Well, well, well,” David smirked as he took a drag, “just couldn’t stay away could ya?”

You scoffed in mock offense, “excuse me, but this one,” you jerked your thumb towards Paul, “tracked me down at work for you idiots.”

David threw his cigarette to the ground and stomped it out, “maybe we needed you to fix up one of our bikes again.”

You snorted, “they look fine to me.”

Dwayne rolled his eyes, “sorry about him, we really did just want to see you.”

You blushed as your gaze fell to the gorgeous brunette man’s shoes, “I kinda wanted to see you guys again too.”

“Wanna race?” Marko blurted out, bouncing on his heels in excitement.

Your head snapped up, “race? Race where?” you asked.

“Hudson’s bluff,” David spoke up, “you know it?”

“Yeah I know it,” you paused for a second, “what does the winner get?”

“A kiss from you,” Paul said smirking, as he leaned an elbow on your shoulder.

You rolled your shoulder, causing his elbow to slide right off you, “and what do I get if I win?” you asked.

“Four kisses,” Paul winked.

You rolled your eyes, “if I win I want…” you trailed off as you thought to yourself.

A lightbulb went off in your head, “I want that,” you decided as you pointed at David’s long black trenchcoat.

David’s jaw dropped, not usually one to be caught off guard, “…you want my coat?”

He regained his senses, “absolutely not, no.”

You pouted in mock sympathy, “scared you’re gonna lose Davey?”

He scoffed, “never.”

You shrugged, “then you’ve got nothing to worry about right?”

David bit his lip and weighed his options. There were four of them and only one of you. How could one little human beat four vicious vampires? You didn’t stand a chance.

David smirked and stuck out his hand, “deal.”

You smiled as you shook his hand, “alright then.”

It didn’t take the five of you long to clamor onto your bikes and line up parallel to each other.

“You’re going down,” Marko whispered from the left of you as Dwayne counted down.

You smirked, “we’ll see.”

As soon as Dwayne bellowed “go,” you were off.

You whipped through the beach, kicking up sand as you rode and making a mental note to clean your wheels later. Paul and David had an early lead, with you and Marko not far behind.

Dwayne trailed behind the four of you, but you suspected it wasn’t for lack of ability but more to teach David a lesson. Either way, you appreciated it.

As you turned off into the forest you pulled past Paul, flicking a wave in his direction as you left him in the dust. You smiled as you heard a soft gasp behind you from the shocked blond boy.

You leaned forward, your brow furrowing as you accelerated until you were neck and neck with David.

“Give up? You could still keep your coat,” you taunted him, keeping your eyes trained on the road.

“Not on your life.” he spit through gritted teeth.

“Suit yourself,” you replied as you pushed forward on the throttle, weaving in front of David and pulling up at the edge of the cliff.

David pulled to a stop in disbelief, “you…how did you…” he sputtered as he tried to make sense of what had just happened.

You smiled, “increased the size of my rear sprocket by two teeth awhile back, helps the bike accelerate quicker,” you explained.

“Why didn’t you say anything babe?” Paul inquired as he parked next to the two of you.

You shrugged, “you never asked,”

“Pretty smart if you ask me,” Marko admitted as he joined as well, “I woulda done that too.”

“Looks like you’ve got a jacket to hand over huh David?” Dwayne teased as he came around to David’s side, playing with the hem of the coat.

David’s face flushed red as he realized. He moved to take the coat off when you stopped him, placing a hand on his.

“No need,” you assured him, “the look on your face is a good enough prize for me.”

David grumbled as the other boys dissolved into fits of laughter.

“You’re a good time babe,” Paul nudged you with his elbow, “we live just down there if you’d like to come in for a drink,” he offered smoothly as the others exchanged knowing glances.

“Sure,” you smiled, “I could go for a drink.”

🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇

Taglist❤️:

@pixielostboy @bloodywickedvamp @6lostgirl6 @anna1306 @misslavenderlady @sidefanficaccounttohidemyshame @paulxbathbomd @peachpixiesstuff @ria-coolgirl @flower-crowned-lady @lostboys1987girl @ghoulgeousimmaculate @feardot-com @softchonk @gothamslostboy @arenpath @bitchyexpertprincess @memphiscity69 @kurt-nightcrawler @solobagginses @mickkmaiden333 @arbesa-mind @warrior-616 @consuming-karma @dwaynedelight @vampirefilmlover @its-freaking-bats @dwaynesluscioushair @hallotonia

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kurt-nightcrawler · 1 year

Text

Phone Calls

David x Female Reader

Summary: David is a lover. Paul is... Paul.

Warnings: swearing and smoking

Word Count: 1.1k

“I should call her,” David huffed as his hand ghosted over the phone.

“Then why aren’t you?” Paul asked, smoking a cigarette.

“I should call her…” He repeated. “I should call her… but it’s past seven o’clock. What if she’s asleep?”

“Do you hear yourself?” Paul asked. “It’s seven! There’s no way she’s asleep.” Paul inhaled smoke.

“Yeah, but (Y/N) doesn’t seem like the type of girl to sit around and wait for a guy to call. She probably won’t be there to answer.”

“Then leave a message.” Paul took a drag and blew out smoke. “Or go give her a visit, I dunno.”

“Paul!” David practically gasped. “I can’t just go over to a girl’s house uninvited. I'm not a heathen!”

Paul snorted. “Dude, we eat people.”

“So? You know I once scored a princess with my charms and good manners—“

Paul quickly cut him off before David could go on a long ramble. One Paul had definitely heard before. “—Yeah, yeah, the Russian chick, I know. I know.” David rolled his eyes.

“Look,” Paul took another drag. “All I’m saying is, it isn’t 1954 anymore, man! You don’t have to be begging for this girl’s attention. Trying to act all innocent and impress her folks and befriend her father. You can just, call and leave a message saying you want her to come over to fuck.”

David frowned, “You don’t get it… I knew I should have brought Dwayne with me. He’s a romantic. He would understand.”

Paul threw his cigarette butt on the ground and stomped it out. “Hey, man! Out of the two of us, I’ve gotten more pussy this week than Dwayne. Dude’s been bitchless lately!”

“Yet you’re being useless right now,” David complained. “So shut up.”

“Fine, fine whatever. Call your girlfriend or whatever. When you freeze up after two words I won’t be here to help you ‘woo her’ or whatever.” Paul stepped away to smoke more, while David made his phone call.

He slowly spun the wheel of the rotary dial, each number going in one at a time. He was nervous and didn’t want to mess up.

David brought the phone up to his ear and listened to the ringing as he waited for her to pick up.

Ring.

David thought about what she might be doing. Maybe she was reading one of her little romance novels that got her all flustered when he walked into the room.

Ring.

Maybe she ran a bubble bath and was using an expensive soap. Rubbing it all over her body… she would smell nice, and David would have to try his hardest to not try and immediately sink his teeth into her skin.

Ring.

Maybe she was watching an old movie. One about some poor little Maiden being snatched up by a handsome monster of some kind. Maybe she was—

Ri—Beep! Beep! Beep!

The loud beeps of the receiver brought David out of his daydreams. He huffed and hung up the phone.

“She didn’t answer.”

“Okay?” Paul was unsure what David wanted from him.

“What do I do?”

“I dunno, man,” Paul shrugged. “Did she say she’d be busy tonight?”

“No.”

“Okay…” Paul tried really hard to think of something. “Maybe she’s working… we could go visit her.”

“She’s not. She told me she was off tonight.”

“Well, I dunno. If you don’t want to go to her house and see if she’s home, we can’t really do anything. Maybe call again.”

“I can’t seem needy!” David whined.

“Literally, dude, what do you want from me?”

“Some help,” David stated like it was the most obvious thing ever. “But clearly you don’t know what to do.”

“Sorry. Soulmates and serious shit aren’t my strong suit. You know that.”

“Yeah, but I figured you would know something. You flirt with everyone you see.”

Paul shook his head, weakly denying David’s claims. “This girl has got you practically wrapped around her finger! This is embarrassing for you.”

David crossed his arms and glared at Paul. “At least I’m not saying the wrong name during sex!”

Paul put his hands on his hips, “It was an accident!”

David stole the cigarette right from Paul’s fingers and took a drag. “It was embarrassing. That’s what it was.”

“I don’t care. Marko ate them a week later anyways.”

“Yeah, 'cause you begged him too.”

“Shut up!” Paul tried to grab the cigarette back from David, but he swatted him off.

“You shut up!”

“No, you shut up!”

“Paul!”

“David! Hi!” Both the blondes froze and looked at the person who walked over.

David quickly regained composure and pretended as if nothing happened. Paul did the same, coughing, trying to clear his throat.

“Hey, sweetheart,” David was playing it cool as if his last twenty minutes of mooning over this woman didn’t just happen. “What are you doing here?”

“I had to stop by the video store and return my movies. I spotted Dwayne, and he said you were over here.”

David could not focus on a thing she said. Instead, he just stared at her. His eyes turned into little hearts, his mind focusing on how the moonlight and the neon signs of the boardwalk made her glow. How her big smile made his dead heart beat again, and how she spoke with such kindness to him. David was a killer, and as pretty as he was, people were not nice to him.

“Dude,” Paul elbowed him.

“Sorry, what? I zoned out,” David lied.

“I just asked if you wanted to go get something to eat,” (Y/N) said.

“The lady is telling me to get lost!” Paul jokingly put his hands on his chest and faked disgust.

(Y/N) laughed, “I am not! Go and find your other boyfriends and see what they’re doing. I’m sure you’ll have fun. Come on, David,” She held out her hand for him to take.

David dropped his cigarette and stomped it out with his boot, quickly taking (Y/N)’s hand and letting her drag him off further on the boardwalk.

“So what have you been up to tonight, Princess?” David asked, wrapping an arm around (Y/N) as they walked off.

“Okay, leave without saying goodbye,” Paul said to himself, somewhat joking. “I see how it is!” He eyed his cigarette, the one David threw on the ground.

“Can I…” He squinted his eyes at the butt. “Nah...” He deemed it unsalvageable. “I’ll just have another one.”

Paul patted his pockets trying to find his pack of cigarettes. “Ugh, come on–” He pulled it out and opened it up. “Are you serious?!”

There were none left.

#the lost boys #david the lost boys #the lost boys 1987 #lost boys #tlb #lost boys imagine #the lost boys x reader #lost boys David #tlb David #David tlb #tlb 1987

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got-ticket-to-ride · 6 months

Note

hi sorry but do you have any soft mclennon moments to share too :') the post you made about 22 seconds of longing hurt oh my god

Sorry for the delay in reply anon. I'm actually just a corporate collar acting my way as a temporary secretary every hard day's night, jobbing like a dog, 8 days a week in an English garden to afford a tan in the rain.

Hope this finds you well! Here are 22 McLennon moments as compensation for Johnny's 22 agonizing seconds in the pining video.

1.) "I'm Happy Just to Dance with You" scene when they both looked at each other at the same time. And the director had to pan out the scene because it would've been too straight. I know dilated pupils when I see it.

2.) Inviting your favorite boy to a solo trip to Spain but you stayed in Paris because it was so romantic, sharing a bed, picking out clothes for each other, slurping all the banana shakes, you know normal roommate things according to historians.

3.) Getting a solo invitation from a hot photographer and bringing along your best boy because you are attached to the hip and can't be separated.

4.) Their need to constantly touch each other

5.) Scene in Help (1965), where John is using all his strength to carry George and Ringo's weight and not crush Paul (because boyfriend things)

6.) Holding hands for mental support during a recording. (John is needy, please forgive him)

7.) Walking Martha like a couple in 1967 - outfits coordinated and all

8.) Impressions by people who met them:

"[John and Paul] sort of had their own way of communicating. Hardly anything was spoken, they just knew what the other wanted or was getting at and they had the most amazing talent."

"He was like a different animal with Lennon. When they were together they became something else, more than just the two of them together. That communication was incredible. It was like two high-speed computers just fizzing between each other."

9.) John is hiding his cigarette behind him, because he doesn't want to bother Paul with the smoke. (You know, boyfriend things).

10.) A portrait, king and princess up front. John's thigh just casually resting on Paul's (yet again).

11.) The spider fingers during a press conference, because they are actually both 12

12.) That very flirty jam session in Austria in 1965 that was cut short, but they probably continued after anyway

13.) The way they talk about the day they met sounds like "how I met the love of my life" Happy Honeymoon <3

14.) Quote from Emerick

The lights in the studio were turned off to set the mood; the sole source of illumination was a table lamp next to the wall. The two beatles, lifelong friends and collaborators, sat on high stools, facing each other, studying each other’s lips intently for phrasing.

15.) When they answer each other's songs

Paul in Can't Buy Me Love: "If it makes you feel alright?"

John: "I Feel Fine"

17.) “I could even hear what they were saying off-mike; ‘Oh Paul, you’re so cute tonight’ was met with the reply, ‘Sod off, Lennon.’” — Joan Baez on accompanying the Beatles to their concert in Red Rocks Amphitheatre, Denver. 26 August 1964

18.) Paul looking at John like he wants to eat him later after finishing with "I'm a Loser"

19.) Giving instructions on how John's hair needs to "look"

20.) Paul acting as John's walking stick

21.) Paul's heart eyes during this 1966 conference (also that lip bite... eat you later?):

22.) John the worried boyfriend who checks on Paul in the middle of an interview and doesn't believe him when he just says : "oh, yeah..."

John internally: "come on now, why aren't you laughing at my joke babe? You're unwell!!!"

The Bottles over and out.

Thank you for this ask. This was quite fun! Would love to hear your thoughts too <3

#Asks #Mclennon #John and Paul #John Lennon #Paul Mccartney #funny #The Beatles #gttr-beatles

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happilyhertale · 8 months

Text

A spark of hope – Tom Bennett x female!reader

Pairing: Tom Bennett x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ NSFW, Misogyny

Author’s note: Your life is always the same - you help your mother out in the pub and earn money from other activities on the side. But at some point, you reach a point where maybe you don't want to do all that anymore.

English is my second language, please forgive me if I made any mistakes (: Word count: 3.9k

Other stories of mine

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Cigarette smoke envelops you, but you move through it almost elegantly, empty glasses in your hand. Tonight is busy, but that also means there will be a lot of tipping. Music blares from the jukebox as you're back in the safety of your counter. You stand behind it and start cleaning the glasses you just collected. As the door to the pub swings open and more drunk young guys stumble in. They laugh and you don't really understand what they are saying before they burst out laughing again. When the blond one of the guys comes towards you.

"Good evening, milady," he says, visibly drunk. You can already tell how annoyed you are, but you smile nonetheless.

"What can I do for you?" you ask with feigned friendliness.

He grins, "Well... First, I'd settle for a beer," he slurs. You turn away smiling, but sigh as you draw his beer. You ignore his next attempts to make you laugh. Practiced by all the other guys who keep trying to get your attention, you have no problem with it. Besides, your end of the day is approaching and that clearly depresses your mood, but distracts you. Your colleague comes in and you sigh, but you nod at her and smile. Maria walks past tables on her way to the counter, taking away empty glasses as she goes. But before you can have a conversation with her, the door opens again. The blond guy is still watching you. But now you have work to do. You grab your stuff and walk up to the man who has just entered the pub. He puts his arm around your waist almost naturally and leads you out.

He lies on top of you, his hips thrusting into you again and again. His deep moans don't make it any better. But you're moaning too, trying to spur him on so he can finish. When he looks into your face, you close your eyes with passion and moan loudly, showing him how good he is. He moans loudly and grunts as he reaches his climax. He breathes heavily but rolls off you. He lies next to you, his eyes closed as he tries to catch his breath again. Your gaze is fixed on the ceiling, trying to feel a comforting sensation inside you, or at least push away the shame. When you hear a soft snore, you slowly stand up. You don't look back and quickly disappear into the bathroom to freshen up. Even faster you get dressed and take the money from the table. Quietly you leave the flat. You walk through the dark streets. It is warm and a gentle breeze blows around you as you look up. You see individual windows that are brightly lit. The lights have an almost calming effect on you. As you reach your house, you open the door. Your eyes fall into the kitchen, where your mother is sitting at the kitchen table. She is drinking a cup of tea and almost relaxed, smoking a cigarette.

"Oh, you're still awake?" you ask your mother. You put the money on the table.

"Yeah, I couldn't sleep," she says to you. She crosses her legs slightly and lets one leg bob.

"Oh, is that your tip? Keep that to yourself... You earned it," your mom says to you, looking up at you.

You hesitate, but then smile, "Nah, that's the leftover money from babysitting," you lie to your mom.

"Met Paul on the way home and he gave it to me" you say and slowly walk out of the kitchen.

"Oh well... All right... sleep well, little one," your mother calls after you.

You give her a gentle smile before retreating into the cosy confines of your room. As you prepare to lie down in your warm bed, your thoughts inexplicably drift to the memory of the forward and somewhat annoying person you met earlier in the pub. Although you cannot explain why he is so preoccupying you at this moment, you simply roll onto your side and surrender to the soothing call of sleep.

The next evening, you're back in the pub. You hang around for a while and serve the usual guests. But the conversations and loud laughter that fill the pub don't really pull you out of your thoughts.

Until the guy from yesterday enters the pub again and you sigh slightly. He walks up to you and grins.

"Hello my beautiful," he says.

You look at him wordlessly. Out of sheer habit, you try to read from his gaze what he really wants from you. Does he just want to be nice or does he want to become a next customer?

"What can I do for you?" you ask him with feigned friendliness.

"Well, that depends on what ya can give me," he says cheekily. You look at him slightly irritated, but before you can answer, he interrupts you.

"Ah, just give me a Guinness," he says. This clear and unintentional answer leaves you speechless for a moment. But you clear your throat and comply with his request.

„A pint of Guinness? On the way“, you say and turn around.

You serve him a Guinness and watch as he hesitantly clasps the glass with his hand.

"My name's Tom, by the way," he says with a smile.

"Well, hello Tom," you say, watching his face contort as he drinks his Guinness. You have to laugh slightly, "Don't you like Guinness?" you ask.

"Not really," he says and bravely takes another sip

"Then why are you ordering it?" you ask with a laugh, wanting to put him out of his misery. But as you reach for the beer, he playfully pushes your hand away.

"Hands off," he says with a smile.

"This will ensure that I don't finish the beer so quickly and stay sitting here longer," he says with a slight wink.

You blush slightly but laugh lightly anyway.

"You're silly," you say, but have to smile slightly.

"I never said otherwise," Tom says, drinking again with a disgusted look on his face.

You have to laugh again and Tom smiles at you. A hint of joy is written on his face as he hears you laugh.

"Do you have a name too?" he asks you after taking another sip.

You smile at him, "Y/n," you tell him.

"Hello y/n," Tom says, "Have a drink with me," he says.

But you shake your head slightly, "No... Not while I'm working," you say with a smile.

And tonight you have a lot to do. Almost countless guests are pouring into the pub and the prospect of making it alone seems almost impossible. But with unwavering determination, you dance back and forth between the tables, deftly noting the orders and clearing away the empty glasses. In the midst of this hustle and bustle, Tom remains steadfast, his fingers holding the glass of Guinness, and his eyes never taking his eyes off your tireless performance.

As the evening draws to a close and the tide of guests gradually ebbs, a palpable sigh of relief escapes your lips. But just as you toy with the idea of locking up, the door swings open again, announcing the arrival of an unexpected guest. Instinctively, you consider simply saying you were about to close up, but as you turn around, you find yourself frozen in shock for a moment.

‚Not him again...‘ you think.

The guy smiles at you, "Hi sweetie..." he just says and you sigh.

You turn around to Tom, who is still sitting there, and try to smile slightly.

"I have to go, Tom…," you say quietly.

Tom's gaze lingers on you and finally settles on the man who has just entered the pub. But you see Tom nod slightly. But still, you recognize the subtle nuances in Tom's facial expression that betray an unmistakable dislike, a deep lack of trust toward the guy.

Tom rises slowly and leans forward slightly. He presses a tender kiss to your cheek. In that fleeting moment, you feel the gentle caress of his breath, causing a subtle tingling sensation. It's such a tender sensation that you instinctively bite your lip, an intimate reaction hidden from all but the keenest observers.

"Until next time," he says softly.

You nod slightly as he walks past you and the guy and leaves the pub.

The guy grins at you, "Another customer?" he says to you.

"I don't talk about my business," is all you say to him.

You leave the pub and follow the guy to his flat. And again, the time with him is just uncomfortable. He is just disgusting and manages to make you feel disgusted with yourself. He never shows any consideration for you and this time is no different. You lie on the bed and he lies on top of you with his heavy body. He thrusts hard into you and grunts to himself, but not in a way that would increase your arousal. You bite your lip to keep from crying out, but you have a feeling that's exactly what he wants. When he suddenly leans back slightly and looks you in the face, you don't know at first what he wants from you. Until he slaps you across the face and you are sure that is exactly what he wants - to make you scream. You gasp, your face hurts, but you don't give him the satisfaction.

"Don't slap me," you hiss back at him. But he only grabs your throat in response and grunts again. Your eyes grow wide as he squeezes and thrusts into you like crazy. Breathing becomes difficult and you feel panic rising in you, but you can't scream. The hand on your throat makes it impossible for you to let anything but a whimper come out of you. Your hand finally reaches for his, you try to pull it away from your neck. But you seem powerless. Distantly you perceive his light laughter, his thrusts don't let up and you notice how you become sore.

Suddenly you hear him moan loudly and climax. He breathes heavily and you notice how his thrusts subside and his hand around your neck loosens slightly. While he is overwhelmed by his feelings, you don't hesitate for long and push him off you.

"Hey...", he says still breathing heavily. But you hurriedly get dressed as tears come to your eyes. You take the money from the table and leave the flat.

You hurry home and pass your mother without a word. You can't even tell if she spoke to you.

Without a moment's hesitation, you are drawn to the bathroom and the urge for a shower overcomes you. The night hangs on you like a shroud, and you had hoped that the warm stream of water would wash away the burden weighing on your soul. As you surrender to the water's gentle embrace, however, you quickly realize that the longed-for soothing effect fails to materialize. With your eyes closed, you lean against the cool, unyielding tiles of the shower, and your body slowly sinks to the floor. Tears bubble up, mirroring the gentle surge of water that envelops you. At this vulnerable moment, you can no longer bear the weight of your existence and silently plead for release.

The water has grown cold by now, and your tears are also beginning to stop. You muster the strength to reach up and turn off the water. You step out of the shower and wrap your body in the comforting embrace of a soft towel.

As you finally snuggle into the warm sanctuary of your bed, enveloped, your thoughts are still spinning. But the embrace of sleep, hopefully giving you comfort in the quiet of the night, soon envelops you.

The next evening you are again behind the bar of the pub. The absence of Tom casts a shadow over your heart, a faint hint of melancholy. But duty calls, and you resolve to excel once again, if only to escape for a moment the burden of your overwhelming thoughts. Your gaze, however, inevitably wanders to the spot where Tom sat the night before.

As you say goodbye to the last of your guests after hours of work and walk back to the counter, a sigh of relief escapes your lips. You begin to tend to the few remaining glasses, seeking solace in the mundane rhythm. But then the door swings open again, and you instinctively glance over your shoulder. There he stands, the obnoxious guy, and an unsettling sense of panic spreads through you.

"Today I have no time for you," you say immediately, without waiting to see what he even wants.

But he just smiles, "Oh come on... Yesterday was good, wasn’t it? I enjoyed it..," he says.

"And I don't care, I don't have time today," you say simply. You go behind the counter and start washing the glasses.

He comes closer. Very close. "Oh come on... I could tell you liked it," he says quietly, grinning at you with his crooked smile

You look at him angrily, "I don't know what kind of world you live in. But certainly not one where you could say what pleases a woman," you say.

He slaps you again. You gasp as your face flies to the side. The pain from last night is palpable in your face again.

"You like that, don't you, you whore," he just hisses, "You can't do more than spread your thighs."

"Get the fuck out of here, you bastard," you suddenly hear another voice say.

You look at the door, startled, breathing heavily. The pain has brought tears to your eyes. Your vision is blurred, but Tom is standing there and he doesn't look pleased at all.

The guy turns around, "Get out of here, kid. Wait your turn," he just says unimpressed.

"Oh I think it's my turn," Tom says even louder. He walks up to the guy and grabs him by the collar. The guy turns and gives Tom a swinging punch. You gasp and yell out slightly. Tom stumbles back a little, looking even angrier. His nose is bleeding slightly, but he walks back up to the guy and headbutts him. You hear it crack and slap your hand over your mouth.

"Don't ever touch her again," Tom hisses. He rams his knee into his soft parts so that the guy goes down. He only gasps and cries out slightly. He holds his balls and whimpers.

Tom grabs him by the collar and drags him towards the exit. He gives him another kick and thus transports him outside. You hear him breathing heavily and he closes the door.

He turns to you and sees the look on your face.

"Are ya okay?" he asks you. You nod slightly and reply, "I should be asking you that," you whisper. You take a dish towel and walk towards him. Carefully you dab away the blood, he smiles sheepishly.

"It's nothing," he says softly.

You take his hand and lead him behind the counter. He sits down on a chair and lets you treat him. He watches you closely.

"Who was that," he finally asks. You hesitate at first, afraid he'll find out what you're doing. That he might see you through different eyes.

"Just someone I know," you say quietly, avoiding his gaze. He nods, barely noticeable. When the blood is wiped from his face, you look at him. He grins slightly again.

"What is it?" you ask

"Let me take ya out," he says cheekily.

You laugh lightly.

"No Tom. You don't want that," you say to him. You try to avoid his gaze and feel your chest tighten slightly. As his voice rings out, your gaze meets his blue eyes.

"Why wouldn't I want that?" he whispers, sounding curiously.

"Because... that wouldn't work Tom," you simply say and throw the bloody dish towel into the next corner. But you can still feel his gaze on you.

"Well, as long as I don't have to drink any more Guinness, I don't see why it wouldn't work," he says.

You just look at him, but the smile does not disappear from his face, "That would be the least of your problems," you say quietly.

Tom scrutinises your face for a moment. The way you avoid his gaze and your eyebrows draw together slightly for a brief moment and your brow furrows briefly.

He clears his throat slightly.

"You slept with him, didn't you?" he asks quietly, "For money?" he adds quietly, watching your reaction closely. His gaze does not leave you. Your breath catches in your throat, leaving you wordless for a moment. A blush of shame turns your cheeks scarlet.

"What..? Tom... it's not like that" you stammer.

Tom says nothing for a moment and you fear that he is already judging you.

"You don't know what it's like," you say suddenly.

"When my father died and left me and my mother with this pub.... We have trouble paying all the bills and my mom does so much for me... She gave up so much just to be able to give me a good life..." you say justifying

"And so the least I can do is try to give her something back... Earn some money and..." but you can't continue. Tom silences you with his lips.

You are startled at first, but surrender to his soft lips. Suddenly you feel so close to him as he gets up from the chair and wraps his arms around you. The way your mouths meet is electrifying, his tongue touches yours and makes you whimper slightly. You don't want to miss those lips any more.

"It's okay..." he whispers against your lips after some time.

You look him in the eyes and breathe a little heavily. You cannot believe his words. You need a little time to process his words.

"It's okay...?" you say quietly.

He nods, "It's okay..." he says softly.

He gently caresses your cheek, "And to me, you are so much more than a lady who can spread her thighs," he says softly, smiling slightly.

His slight smile is reflected on your lips. Again, he kisses you. His hand slides into your hair, holding your head gently. "So much more..." he whispers against your lips.

You feel his other hand slide to your hip. He presses you against his body. Your arms slide around his neck as his other hand finds your hip as well. With one movement, he sets you on your counter and you gasp slightly.

"Tom," you gasp, but he silences you with his lips again.

You wrap your legs around his waist as his hands slide along your thighs. His fingertips leave a trail of heat on your soft skin. You gasp slightly as his hands slide under your dress. He looks at you, his lips slightly parted, almost as if he is asking your permission. But instead of answering, you let your lips meet his.

Your breathing becomes heavier and suddenly it seems infinitely hot behind the counter. You feel his hand slide to the inside of your thigh and you whimper lightly against his lips. He grips lightly and you feel the pulsation between your legs.

"Tom..." you whimper lightly and you feel a grin forming on his lips. But he doesn't hesitate for long and reaches your wet panties. He presses his fingers against them and you cannot suppress a moan. You squeeze your eyes shut and try to press your hips further against his hand.

"Hmhm, a little needy, eh?" you hear him whisper. A hiss from him follows as you bite his lip lightly.

And suddenly he pushes your panties aside and lets his fingers slide inside you.

"Well, I shouldn't keep ya waiting then," he murmurs as you moan again.

You let your lips collide with his again and your tongues dance wildly around each other. His fingers work their way into you faster as your fingers work their way around his belt. You try to undo his belt, despite the distraction, and finally manage it. Without hesitation you open his trousers and they slide down his legs. A deep rumble rises in his chest as you slide your hand into his pants. You feel his hard member twitch as you embrace it. Your hand slides up and down as if by itself.

His breathing quickens and you feel the precum already gathering at the tip of his cock. You rub it gently and hear him growl again. Your kiss becomes a little more aggressive and he pulls you closer to him. His fingers don't let up in their thrusts and you feel your thighs begin to tremble as his thumb rubs your sensitive pearl.

But then he pulls his fingers out of you and replaces them with his hot length. Slowly he penetrates you and stretches you bit by bit. You press your face into the crook of his neck as the almost painful feeling turns into pure pleasure. You gasp and moan slightly. Your teeth find their way to his neck and you bite lightly.

Tom's hands slide to your bottom, pressing you further against him as his hips slam against yours.

You are completely in sync, the only sound in the pub is your breathing and the sounds you create together. You are both panting now as your movements become faster and more animalistic.

He hits the sweet spot inside your depths and you moan out. You lean back slightly and watch him thrust into you again and again. His face contorts into a mixture of effort and lust. You hear his heavy breathing and grunts leave him.

You hear every sound, every gasp, every slap of your skin against each other. In the depths of this moment, Tom fixes his gaze with yours, an unspoken declaration that in this fleeting moment his entire universe is focused on a single point: you. The woman who embodies his deepest desires - who he wants more than anything.

But this moment is interrupted when his hands suddenly leave your bottom and slide onto your knees. He moves one of your legs to the side while he brings the other to his shoulder.

"God, Tom!" you moan as you feel his thrusts even deeper. But you only hear his grunts, which never fade.

You brace yourself against the counter with your arms as he penetrates you deeper and deeper.

"Fuck, yea," Tom growls as he feels your pussy begin to clench around his cock. You can't help but whimper and moan and give in to the sensation.

You cry out a little as he pushes you over the edge and the warmth floods you. Your torso falls back a little and his hand slides to your back to hold you in place. He fucks you through your orgasm, pursuing his own climax. When suddenly he groans and squints his eyes. His thrusts become more sloppy as he coats your walls with his seed.

He gasps and thrusts as his thrusts slowly subside. You look at each other, heavily atment. Until you giggle lightly. You lean forward again and kiss him, feeling the light film of sweat over his lip.

"You’re so much more to me…", he whispers against your lips as he pulls you closer again.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

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#tom bennett #tom bennett x you #tom bennett x y/n #tom bennett imagine #tom bennett fanfiction #tom bennett fanfic #tom bennett smut #tom bennett fluff #world on fire #lois bennett #ewan mitchell #tom bennett x reader #tom bennet x reader #tom bennett world on fire #ewan mitchell characters #ewan nation #tom bennett fic #tom bennett x ofc #tom bennett x female reader

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consuming-karma · 1 year

Text

BABY’S FIRST EARRINGS.

buwan’s notes: usually I’d say smth about not being able to have a baby in this economy but I have severe baby fever this week teehee— apologies for the rlly bad writing also- this kinda sucked because I only rlly managed to work on this when I wasn’t working on my papers or my artwork sighh.

episode summary: it’s time for your baby bat’s first piercings! During your trip, you realize why it may not be such a good idea to bring the boys with you.

content warnings: might bring you baby fever as well, piercing a baby’s ears, emotional vamps.

taglist: @britany1997

[poly!the lost boys x mama!reader.]

“Wait, what do you mean you wanna pierce her ears?” Marko looked at you with a bewildered expression, staring at you as if you had two heads.

You bounced your baby on your hip, her giggles intensifying as the little jumps seemed to amuse her. “I think our baby bat would look adorable with earrings, hun!” You tensed your shoulders to show your baby bat to your husbands who all sat unconvinced.

“babe, she’s a baby bat, she doesn’t need piercings right away.” Paul pointed out confusingly. Marko nodded his head along, agreeing with his terror twin.

“I agree pretty, our baby can get her piercings when she’s older,” Marko walked up to you, his hands tucking themselves into yours to move Darlene into his arms.

“She is! Darlene’s turning one!” You argued, looking at Marko with a pout, letting the curly blonde take your baby from your arms.

“She’s still a babe! Besides she’s got her teens.” Marko grinned and gave her a small rub on the nose with his, making her squeal.

“It’s a norm, hun. She won’t feel a thing, promise!” You crossed your fingers on your undead chest, smiling innocently as the boys all looked at each other for further action.

“I mean..” Dwayne didn’t finish his sentence after that, only shrugging as he looked towards David who seemed to be thinking. “it wouldn’t be so bad.” David looked at you, as if saying ‘it better won’t hurt, he’s an asshole, but he will cry if his baby girl cries’.

You grinned, happy with the outcome of the conversation. “Hear that, baby bat? You’re gonna get earrings like your mama!” You giggled, pulling her from out of Marko’s arms and snuggling her to your chest, obviously excited.

“Is this really a good idea?” Paul looked at David, the platinum blonde shrugged before lighting another one of his cigarettes, the whole other side of the room away from his baby. “It’s an idea, that’s for sure.” David answered between gritted teeth, his cigarette between it as he opened his Zippo lighter.

The rest of the boys shrugged and focused their attention on you, where they saw you coddling their only offspring, making blabbering sounds and squealing at how cute your little bat was.

In their heads, all they thought was that it was going to be a-okay, and that their Darlene wouldn’t notice and would handle the pain.

They didn’t know how bad of an idea it was until they had arrived at the overnight mall to the local medical clinic.

“Ok Darlene, ready to be the cutest bling baby in the world?” You asked in a baby voice, Darlene could barely reply to you as she was only five months old, her vocabulary consisting of ‘wahs’ and ‘woos’.

“So where are we getting her pierced?” Dwayne walked up to the two of you, his hands instantly grabbing hold of your waist and under your sweater as his fingers connected with your soft skin.

You smiled at the comforting gesture, before pointing to the seemingly squeaky clean clinic at the mall. “There, the clinic.” Dwayne glanced at you with an unreadable expression before giving his baby, Darlene, a strained smile. “Why not Claire’s, babe?” Paul pointed to the purple and pink glittery store of girlishness.

“No! Claire’s doesn’t even clean their needles, my baby deserves the cleanest out there.” You stated, determined to not spend another sleepless night because your baby got a sickness.

Paul let out a scoff, looking off to the side, mumbling. “I got pierced there just fine..”

You blew a raspberry into her chubby cheeks, making her squeal and grab onto your hair, making you laugh. The group of you walked to the clinic, Marko and Paul bumping into people half of the way since they kept making funny faces at Darlene, instead of looking ahead of them.

“I know a doctor here, so she’ll be fine, isn’t that right baby bat?” You smiled in relief as Darlene grabbed onto your finger. “Oooh~ I can’t wait until you’re all blinged up and matching earrings with me, baby bat!” You felt yourself shake with glee, excited to see your baby get her first piercings.

“Why do I feel like this isn’t gonna be so great?” Paul looked at Dwayne, who seemed to think the same thing, watching you walk up to the front desk.

“Nah, I get you bud, I’ve got the bad kind of butterflies in my tummy right now.” Marko agreed, patting his tummy as if it would help with the feeling.

“Now boys, we gotta trust our girl, I’m sure she’s got it under control.” See, now David’s lying to himself, he’s got the shivers, but he doesn’t want to be an ass in front of his little girl.

“David! I need your signature!” You called out, ripping the platinum blonde away from his boys. Your arms held your baby girl to your chest, she was busy babbling and grabbing onto your shirt, unaware of her surroundings.

You cooed, kissing your baby’s forehead before looking up, David looked at you with a look, before looking down at the clipboard that held a document, you walked to his side, your finger pointing to the blank form.

“Here, sign.” You brought the pen close to him, David glanced at you, you glanced back, before looking down at the document. The platinum blonde picked up the pen and signed, unsure what the paper was for.

“What’s taking so long? Thought we’re getting her pierced?” Paul walked up, looking down at the paper. “Might as well get her checked out, just in case.” You shrugged, passing the finished clipboard to the nurse, who checked out the paper.

“Alright, you can wait for a bit, I’ll get you and your baby ready.” The nurse smiled, pointing to the direction of the waiting room. “I still don’t get why this mall has a clinic.” Marko looked around the clean and dull room.

“Don’t know, but I’ll say it’s convenient.” Paul shrugged, happily taking a seat at one of the many plastic chairs. You followed suit, sitting beside Paul, the blonde instinctively placed his arm around your shoulders, his gaze instantly locking onto his baby girl.

“Hi buttercup, ready for your piercings? Gonna look cool as your daddies!” Paul’s free hand reached across to squeeze your baby’s chubby cheeks, she happily cooed, grabbing against the blonde’s big hands.

Paul couldn’t help but grin at the small gesture, seeing both of his chubby baby’s palms not even be able to cover his one hand. Darlene reached up to tug at his bracelets, in awe of one of her dad’s jewelry.

The rest of the boys looked on in amusement, absolutely adoring their little baby in your lap. They hoped that their baby bat wouldn’t grow up too soon, it felt like you popped her out not even a week ago!

“Darlene Powers?” You jumped at the sudden calling of your baby, looking up to see your friend. You waved excitedly, she was one of your mom friends, spending the third trimester of your baby with her as she was also pregnant with her own son.

“Abby! Hi!” You greeted, gently sitting up and walking towards the doctor, who smiled and greeted your baby with a gentle wave. “Nice seeing you here, (Y/N)! You too, baby Darlene!” She giggled, pinching your baby’s cheeks.

The boys followed with you, walking further and further into the bright halls of the clinic as Abby ushered you into a vacant room. “When do you think we could get our babies together for a play date? I think Darlene would get along with Avery.” You giggled, gushing with Abby with her baby.

“Soon enough, girl! we could leave them with my husband, and maybe treat our selves because god knows we need it.” Abby joked, pointing to her eye bags.

“Oh my god, yes! I need a break!” You laughed, sitting down at one of the chairs in the room.

Paul whispered to you, looking at Abby with a confused expression, “is Avery a girl or boy?” You looked at Paul mirroring his own expression. “Why does it matter?” You replied.

“well, don’t want our little girl already meeting some dude when she hasn’t even been on earth for long..” Paul shrugged, leaning back. You smacked his arm for thinking like that, you were definitely annoyed.

The boys seemed to quiet down, only mumbling at each other. David leaned against the wall as Marko and Paul opted to sit on the examination bed in the room. Dwayne sat in the extra chair in the room with his arms crossed.

“Okay, so I’m hearing that you’re getting this little cutie her first piercings?” Abby pinched Darlene’s cheeks once again, obviously falling victim to the baby fat.

“That’s right, want her to be matching me and her daddies, isn’t that right, baby bat?” Darlene seemed to babble, as if answering your question. “She’s a gem.” Abby awed at Darlene before looking off to her papers.

“Do you want to get her checked out first, or should we get it over with?” Abby asked, looking at the boys for clarification. David and the boys looked at her with blank expressions, unsure. They looked off to you, they were only greeted with an expectant look from you.

“You’re the dads, not me.” You jogged your knee, calming Darlene down as you waited for their answer.

“I guess, uh check her out first?” Dwayne answered for his brothers, looking at you reluctantly before watching Abby nod and grab another sheet of paper. “Alright then, let‘a see if this pretty cutie has anything.” Abby cooed, grabbing her stethoscope.

“Seems like Darlene doesn’t have anything bad, she’s perfectly healthy, good for you dads!” Abby gave the boys a closed smile, before pulling out the equipment for your baby’s piercings.

“I suggest one of your husbands hold Darlene, (Y/N). Babies can get pretty squirmy when the gun’s in the ear.” Paul suddenly shot up in alarm. “Gun?” Paul asked, looking at you with furrowed eyebrows. “It’s a piercing gun.” You nonchalantly replied, watching your friend sterilize her equipment before looking at you expectantly.

Paul looked at Marko with genuine fear, Marko shrugged as well, looking at David, who didn’t bother to continue eye contact.

“Oh? Oh! Dwayne, switch with me, you gotta hold her.” You stood up with your baby, waiting for your dark-haired boyfriend to move. “Why me?” Dwayne looked at you with confusion.

“Okay don’t switch with me, don’t hold your baby ever again.” You looked at him with a deadpanned expression, Dwayne jumped out of his seat and switched with you. “Okay! Okay.” He felt himself break into a cold sweat as you smiled and placed his baby on his lap.

“Okay, I need you to hold her to your chest, put your hand on her forehead like this.” Abby gently placed her hand on Darlene’s head, her palm curling around your baby’s forehead.

Dwayne did as he was told, holding Darlene to his chest confusingly. The boys watched on looking relaxed, you watched as Abby readied the needle of the gun, you handed her the bat studs you had picked out the night before as she loaded the gun.

“Alright, don’t flinch, she’ll feel it too.” Abby warned Dwayne before gently placing your baby’s earlobe into the gun, getting ready to pierce.

Dwayne held Abby’s forehead firmly yet gently, trying to keep his baby still, he felt anxious at the piercing gun in his daughter’s ear. Abby softly counted down from three before quickly pushing on the trigger, a small click being heard.

Paul flinched at the sound of the piercing gun while Marko bit his thumb from to keep him screaming out, even David couldn’t get his eyes off the gun. As soon as the piercing gun retreated for the next earring, the boys turned to Darlene.

What the boys were expecting was a small whimper or a surprised coo from the sudden pierce, but what they got instead is a heartbreaking wail.

You couldn’t help but pout and coo at your baby. “Oh darlie, it’s okay hun,” you gently patted your baby’s thigh as she let out wails and tears rand down her rosy cheeks.

Dwayne looked in pain at Darlene’s wails, feeling the vibrations of his baby crying in his chest as he grunted in guilt, he cringed at Darlene’s squirming as she cried, looking up at you with a glare.

You couldn’t help but laugh at the boys’ reaction, snickering in your seat at they all glared at you as if you had personally pierced their baby girl.

“Why are you all looking at me like that?” You managed to spit out between laughs, looking around the room to see Dwayne and David burning the hardest holes into your face. “You said it wouldn’t be bad.” Dwayne spoke in gritted teeth.

“I never said it wouldn’t be bad, but I didn’t say it would feel nice either.” You scoffed playfully, your dark-haired boyfriend clenching his jaw in guilt and obviously upset that he was tricked into making his baby cry.

“Babe, I don’t think I’d ever say this but I really truly hate you.” Paul shook his head, using his wrist to cover his eyes. “Are you crying?! Paul?!” You spoke, appalled at Paul’s behaviour.

“My baby girl is crying! Why the fuck wouldn’t I!” Paul cried out, his sniffles melding with your baby girl’s wails. Dwayne let out a guilty sigh, bouncing his knee to soothe their baby girl.

“She’s almost done, c’mon guys!” You looked around the boys, seeing Marko biting his thumb and looking away, Paul gently looking over your baby’s ear and Dwayne pinching the bridge of his nose.

You looked over to David, who seemed to stare at the wall and wipe his cheek before he sniffled loudly. “David? You too? Really?” You turned to the platinum blonde, who just glared at you.

His loss for words only made you laugh harder as you held your stomach. Abby giggled, before asking Dwayne to turn their baby bat’s head to the side for the second ear.

Dwayne looked up at David with a ‘do I really have to?’ Look, refusing to hear his baby’s heartbreaking wails once again. David just gritted his teeth and gave him a look that told the dark-haired man to just do it.

Abby readied the gun once again, counting down. Marko couldn’t watch again as he had turned completely around, his eyes shut and his thumb in his mouth. If Marko still didn’t have the instincts to stop before he could’ve made a mark in his thumb, he’d have lost it biting it hard.

The rest of the boys were all dreading it, the trigger of the gun as it pierced through their sweet Darlene’s earlobes.

Abby gently placed her finger on the trigger before finishing her countdown, “one, two, three!—“ the trigger was pulled back as everyone besides you and Abby jumped in their spots, another round of wails and cries left your baby as you cooed, trying to soothe your baby girl.

“Oh, poor baby! It’s over, honey! No more!” You pouted, instantly taking your baby girl out of Dwayne’s arms, the dark-haired boy leaned back and closed his eyes, gulping anxiously.

“Don’t say that, babe! You’re the one who wanted her ears pierced!” Paul cried out, obviously as upset as his baby bat.

You looked around once more at the boys, David was no longer on the wall, his hands were on his hips like an old dad, looking down at the ground.

Marko had quickly walked up to his baby, looking at the earrings with a weak smile, “you look so pretty bubba, the prettiest baby out there.” He spoke, obviously shaken by their baby’s cries.

Paul had no longer leaned against the examination bed but had somewhat crouched down, his hands on his knees as if he ran a marathon.

“Oh my god, guys! Grow up, you’re acting like big babies and you weren’t even the ones who got pierced.” You rolled your eyes, thanking your friend for making a better earring than the sixteen year old workers at Claire’s.

Your friend laughed as she watched the boys maintain their posture, obviously amused by their reactions.

“I never wanna hear her cry like that again..” Paul said into his hands as you guys walked out of the clinic. You giggled, patting the boy’s back as he walked beside you and Darlene, gently pinching her cheeks.

“girl, give me my baby!” Marko spat out, reaching for his baby and taking her from your arms, you let out a small hey before Marko walked away from you, looking down at his baby bat.

“Oh bubba, they didn’t hurt you too bad, did they? You look so pretty,” Marko cooed, rubbing the back of his hand on your daughter’s baby cheeks.

“when you grow up, you can take dada’s other earring and wear it as well.” Marko softly grinned, bouncing Darlene in his arms as your baby had stopped crying and was now cooing.

“Maybe next time I won’t bring you guys, you four cried more than she did.” You teased, watching Marko make funny faces at Darlene in hopes of trying to get her to laugh.

“There’s a next time?!”

“Babe, you’re evil!”

“Like hell!”

“there’s no next time after that!”

The boys all yelled out in unison, looking at you with glared that could burn a hole into your head. “I’m kidding! Well, half- if Darlene wants any more in the future, then I wouldn’t stop her.” You giggled, the boys visibly relaxed at your words, two of your boys putting a hand on their chests.

“We love you mamas, but no, I think seeing my baby bat cry like that felt like a stake to the heart.” Dwayne kissed your temple as he walked past you with David, who kissed you on the lips.

The boys started to head towards the exit of the overnight mall, huddling around Marko, who held your baby girl in his arms. They all cooed and pinched her cheeks, a look of adoration and love all their faces.

You watched Dwayne gently hold your baby’s ears, looking at the pretty silver studs in her ears. You can see Dwayne whisper something to your baby before pulling back, a soft smile on his face.

David seemed to give a look to Marko, which made the curly-headed blonde hand Darlene to him. David gently held your baby in his arms, a rare smile painting his face.

Marko and Paul wouldn’t seem to leave your baby alone as the continued to dote on her, you felt your heart warm at the fact that your baby bat would have such loving boys as fathers.

“What a bunch of babies.” You softly laughed, before catching up to your family and getting ready to retreat back to the cave, something tells you that piercing your baby’s ears was an event enough for the night.

#the lost boys #the lost boys 1987 #✦ paul’s karma.#the lost boys x reader #✦ marko’s karma.#✦ david’s karma.#✦ dwayne’s karma.#✦ the lost boys’ karma.#the lost boys x you #tlb #tlb x you #tlb x reader #tlb imagine #the lost boys imagines #poly lost boys x reader #poly lost boys

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remuslupinbutcooler · 1 year

Text

The Deal

( No given pronouns for reader but nicknames such as “mamas” and “babygirl” used , Poly! lost boys x reader)

You sighed , walking towards their usual meeting spot . Star would kill you if she knew what your intentions were right now.

Star had practically begged you to stay away last night but you couldn’t help it, you were curious. By nature or by force, something had caught your mind you weren’t going to leave without finding the truth.

“Y/N I thought I told you to-“ You glared at Star, causing her to end her sentence and move out of your way.

“What the hell happened? What did you do?” You stomped your way over to David, his usual smirk clouded over his face. One of his hands held a cigarette while his other lay on the wall behind him.

“I have no clue what you’re on about Doll~” He smirked before dropping his cigarette and putting it out, his eyes never left your figure. He knew exactly what you were on about .

“Don’t act stupid.” You rolled your eyes before looking around , you didn’t want to shout incase others heard and made a fuss. “ You killed them .”

“ Woah woah… It wasn’t just me “ He laughed before pointing at his brothers. Star had vanished by now, probably to find Michael and Laddie.

“Didn’t you want us to get rid of them,mamas ?” Paul hands found their way to your hips,his nose burried itself into your neck. His chest lay against your back. “ Don’t act like this wasn’t your idea…”

“Maybe next time you should be more specific with what you want us to do babygirl..” Dwaynes usual tone of voice stayed soft , condescending yet soft. He usually used this tone when addressing you or whatever mess you created.

“Yeah you can’t just expect us to not kill them. “ Marko sounded worried , his usual dramatic expression wiped completely off his face. “ we were only protecting you and feeding ourselves while we did it…” He moved towards you slightly, Marko seemed to be the only one right now that understood your feelings.

“ I guess I should be more specific sometimes… I do appreciate it but ..” You sighed before looking back at David.

“ We had a deal.. We kill assholes who bother you and you don’t mention it, you just accept this .“ He rolled his eyes before moving towards you, “ why are you so upset about this kill?”

“I’m not upset, i’m just mad. You almost got caught . Do you think I want my boys being captured and hunted ??” Your eyes filled over with tears. You weren’t turned yet and you hated how much fear and worry you had in you.

“ We’ll be more careful next time..ok mamas?” Paul’s lip pressed against your neck before his hands pulled you closer, he planted a small kiss on your neck before planting more.

“Mhm..” You sighed before reaching for David. “I’m sorry..”

“It’s fine baby, it’s fine . Just stop worrying ok? We’ve survived more than a silly little newspaper, we’ll be fine “ His hands reached for your face, holding it while your arms wrapped against his frame.

“ I know i know, I’d worry less if I was one of you.. Everything would feel less.. you know..”

“Soon baby soon” Marko cooed before placing his hand on the small of your back.

Dwayne had soon joined the small circle, one of his hands placed itself on your face, stroking it slightly.

#slashers #poly lost boys x reader #tlb #the lost boys marko #the lost boys david #the lost boys dwayne #paul lost boys #the lost boys x reader #the lost boys

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smilingformoney · 5 months

Text

Rickmas 2023: Day 15. Cards and Coals | PL/Reader

AN: This one dedicated to @serenanight87 who keeps begging for more smut and is definitely getting coal in her stocking this year 😏

Content warning: set in a rehab clinic, mentions of suicide

Read now on Ao3 or below the cut:

You had been in the rehab clinic for a little over three months now, and it was starting to look like you were going to be there over Christmas too. You could always discharge yourself, of course, as you were there voluntarily, but really you knew it was the right thing to stick around.

You were alone in the rec room, writing out a Christmas card to your family with a cigarette between your lips, when you heard the voice of one of the orderlies showing a new patient around.

“Oh, and there’s [Y/n]! Her room is right across from yours. [Y/n], you’ve got a new neighbour! This is Paul.”

You looked up to see that your new neighbour was a man in his late forties and strikingly handsome with a mop of blonde hair.

“Everyone calls me PL,” the handsome man said. He seemed stable enough, but then again so did a lot of people in this place until something went wrong.

“Well, how about I leave you two to get to know each other?” the orderly said before scurrying off, leaving you alone with PL.

You leaned back and looked him up and down as he sat down across the table from you with a sigh.

“Let’s see…” you said thoughtfully. “Suicide attempt?”

PL raised an eyebrow at you. “What makes you think that?”

“I have a radar for these sorts of things,” you grinned. “What’d you do?”

“Would you believe me if I said I was innocent?”

You laughed.

“Go on, you can tell me, it gets out eventually. I’ll show you mine, look.”

You pushed back your hair slightly to show him an angry red mark on the side of your head.

“My mam always did say I had a thick skull. Can’t even shoot myself right.”

PL stared at you, flabbergasted. “You shot yourself and survived?”

“Bullet couldn’t get past my skull. Rubbish bullet, if you ask me. Go on, then. I showed you mine, you show me yours.”

“I really didn’t try to kill myself,” PL insisted. “I slipped and fell into the bay. Doctors wouldn’t listen when I said it was an accident.”

“Ah… so you’re here involuntarily. Good luck with that! You’ll never get out.” You took a last puff from your cigarette and stumped it out. You glanced down at his hands, which were fidgeting slightly on the table. “Got a wife outside?” you asked.

“No. Got a husband?”

You scoffed. “Nope. Wanna fuck?”

“Do you proposition every newcomer here?”

“Nah. Just the hot ones. How about it? It has been a very long three months.”

PL looked you up and down, then shrugged. “Alright.”

***

A few minutes later, having dodged being spotted going back to the same room by an orderly, the door to your room closed behind you as PL pushed you up against it and locked his lips against yours. You opened your lips to let his tongue slip past, and already his hands were on your body, grabbing hungrily at you. You were horny and lonely, and he was hot, so you grabbed at him too, your lips separating briefly as you both pulled your tops off.

PL hesitated, staring at your body, one hand on your hip while the other caressed your breast through your bra.

“How old are you?” he asked quietly.

“Twenty-five. You?”

“Forty-nine. That alright?”

“Fine.”

“Good.”

He bent down on one knee and began nuzzling at your breasts, his nose caressing your skin as his tongue teased along the edge of your bra. He unzipped your trousers and pulled them down to your knees, causing you to gasp as the cold air hit your skin. His fingers danced along the edge of your knickers, then slid past to caress your lower lips.

Not having had sex in three months, you hadn’t groomed in all that time, but that didn’t seem to bother him. PL pulled down the cup of your bra and attached his lips to your nipple, at the same time pushing a finger up into you, easily aided by the liquid that had been pooling down there since you’d first laid eyes on him.

“Oh, fuck - PL…” you gasped, surprised that he was taking his time to explore you before even unzipping his trousers. You’d expected him to just ram it in as soon as he could, like every guy you’d ever been with before, but he seemed to be actually enjoying exploring your body.

Another finger joined the first, and you let out an embarrassing little whine when he scissored open his fingers, stretching your walls out. He let out a satisfied hum when he heard how much you were enjoying it, then with his spare hand he reached around your chest to unclasp your bra, which you promptly tossed aside.

PL released your breast from his mouth with a pop, leaving a shiny red mark behind around your nipple. He looked up at you, his amber eyes alight with mischief, and began thrusting his fingers up into you rapidly.

You cried out, and he had the nerve to shush you.

“Don’t want anyone to hear us, do we?” he said quietly, nodding at the door you were currently pressed up against.

“Bed,” you managed to say.

“If you insist.”

He withdrew his fingers from inside you, helped you step out of your trousers, and chuckled when you eagerly scurried over to your bed, which was hopefully far enough away that any orderlies walking by wouldn’t hear you. They never heard you touching yourself, or if they did they ignored it, but by the size of the bulge in PL’s trousers, you suspected you were going to be feeling a lot more pleasure today.

You sat on the side of the bed, and as soon as he got close enough, you hooked your finger under his waistband and pulled him closer.

“Someone’s eager,” he chuckled.

“Someone hasn’t been fucked in three months,” you replied with a grumble.

“Is that what you want?”

PL grabbed your wrists in his hands, stilling your fumbling attempts to get his trousers off.

“Do you want me to fuck you, [Y/n]?”

You looked up at him, and your cross expression only made him laugh.

“Yes. I think I made that pretty clear. Fucking ruin me, PL.”

“And you’re just across the hall from me…” PL said thoughtfully. He released your wrists from his grip, only to squeeze your cheeks to open your mouth, and he slid his fingers past your lips, and you tasted yourself on him.

“Suck me clean,” he growled. “Go on, I want to see how skilled you are with those lips of yours.”

You obeyed, wrapping your lips around his fingers entirely, your tongue running up and down his digits to lick your juices from his fingers. He watched you with a burning desire in his eyes while you took the opportunity while he was distracted to pull his trousers down, and you couldn’t help gasping around his fingers when his cock bounced out of his boxers. You could tell from his bulge that he was big, but you hadn’t realised he was that big.

PL chuckled and withdrew his fingers from your mouth. You reached for his cock, your mouth already open to take him, but he pulled your head back.

“Ah-ah,” he said, shaking his head. “If you do that, I might well finish before we get started. You said you wanted to fuck, and fuck we shall. Get on your back.”

“Yes, Daddy,” you said obediently, pushing yourself up the bed to lay your head on the pillows.

A strange look crossed PL’s face. “Don’t call me that.”

“Oh, sorry. Just slipped out.”

“It’s alright.” He pulled the rest of his clothes off until he was as naked as you, then climbed on top of you, crushing you beneath him with his weight, and you felt the tickle of his cockhead brushing against your thigh. His lips grazed against your neck, and he held your body flush against his, as if he knew how much the pressure of lying underneath him turned you on.

“Twenty-five, you say?” he mumbled as he raised his head to look at you.

“Yes,” you replied breathily, wondering why he was age checking you again.

“And you… know your parents?”

“God, I talk about them enough during therapy every week, I don’t want to talk about them now,” you complained, your hips wriggling underneath him as your cunt tried desperately to seek him out.

“But you do know them?”

You frowned at him. He was being completely bloody serious.

Well, maybe he was nuts enough to be here after all.

“Yeah, yeah, I know them. They’re paying for me to be here.”

“Alright.”

He slowly thrust his hips forward, his cock sliding against you, just missing where you wanted him, and you whined in frustration.

“PL, please, please, oh my god, I fucking need you to fuck me. Please, please…” You begged, almost crying with need, and PL sighed.

“Alright, alright! Jesus.”

He reached down between you and took his cock in his hand to guide it to your entrance.

“Yes, yes, PL, please, fuck - fuck!” You gasped as he finally, finally entered you, his girth stretching you out so sweetly as he sheathed himself inside you.

PL let out a long moan of satisfaction when he bottomed out inside you.

“Oh, that feels so good,” you sighed with relief, feeling that sweet burn you’d missed so much. And was it just because you’d gone so long without sex, or was the stretch even better than you remembered? Then again, PL was definitely the biggest cock you’d ever taken, and it felt fucking fantastic.

He began thrusting inside you, slowly, and he pushed himself up so that he was looking down at you, and all you could see above you was him, his gorgeous hairless chest and his pleasure-addled expression.

“Faster,” you begged, your hips trying fruitlessly to thrust up against him from below, but he had you too trapped to give you any space to move. “Please, faster, faster…”

“Hungry little thing, aren’t you?” PL smirked.

“Yes! Yes, I’m fucking desperate, PL, please. You can fuck me slowly some other time, we’ve got months, but I really need to be railed, please.”

“Alright, then.”

You groaned in relief as his hips snapped faster against yours, finally bringing you the pleasure you’d been craving so desperately. He felt so damn good inside you, just big enough to stretch you out without hurting, and when he sat up on his knees a little more, his angle changed and his cockhead found your G-spot, causing you to cry out in pleasure.

“Thought we didn’t want to get caught?” PL smirked.

“Don’t - care - fuck, that’s so good - god, you’re gonna make me cum so hard, PL…”

“Is that a promise?”

“Yes!”

PL grinned and threw his head back, his eyes closed, and you both lost yourselves in the ecstasy of your violent pleasure. There was nothing else in the world, nothing at all, just you and him and the smacking of his skin against yours, your groans and breathy mutterings of yes and please and so good.

Your groans peaked into a cry of pleasure when you felt PL’s thumb pressing at your clit, rubbing around the juices that were leaking from where the two of you joined. You grabbed at his thighs, desperate for more of him, and your nails dug into his skin as you felt an explosion of pleasure within you, causing your entire body to violently shake as you came harder than you had in what felt like an age.

With a gorgeous girl underneath him, screaming his name as she writhed in pleasure, what else could PL do but cum? Your channel clenched around him as he shot his seed inside you and you milked him dry for all he had. His groan was deep, guttural, animalistic and absolutely fucking beautiful.

He dropped your legs, his energy spent, and had to stop himself from collapsing on top of you, as much as you wanted his body weight on you.

“Fucking hell, [Y/n],” he panted. “I’d have gone to rehab a lot earlier if I’d known this was what it was like.”

You laughed. “A bunch of sad, isolated fucked up people confined to one building - what did you think was gonna happen?”

PL pulled out of you and rolled over to prop himself up on his elbow next to you. “And you say you’ve not fucked since you got here?”

You shrugged. “Doesn’t feel right… like I’m taking advantage of their vulnerability, y’know? But you’re hot, and you’re not supposed to be here either, so I figured it’s alright. Hang on, I gotta go to the bathroom.”

When you returned, PL was unfortunately now wearing his boxer shorts again, but he was still on your bed, so you took that as a win.

“What do you mean, I’m not supposed to be here either?” he asked curiously.

You froze in the middle of climbing underneath the blanket. Oh, damn. You hadn’t meant to say that.

Your hand flew to your scar instinctively, and you sighed.

“I didn’t shoot myself,” you admitted. “I said I did it myself to cover for the person who did.” You looked up at him urgently. “Don’t tell anyone, please. I don’t want him to go to prison.”

“Him?”

“Not the kind of him you’re thinking. We’re related, let’s leave it at that.”

PL glanced away, his eyes looking distant for a brief moment, then he shook his head as if to shake off whatever thought had crossed his mind.

“I should be ready to go again in about ten minutes if you like,” he suggested. “Since you’re so determined to set the speed, maybe you can take charge this time.”

“Are you asking me to ride you, PL?” you asked flirtatiously. “You are a naughty one, aren’t you?”

“Santa’s definitely bringing me coal for my stocking this year.”

You laughed. “Alright. You know, I think we’re going to have a lot of fun here.”

#rickmas2023 #alan rickman #pl o’hara #an awfully big adventure #pl x reader

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aesopsharpmybeloved · 1 year

Text

Of Starlight And Cigarettes

The potions master finds you indulging in a nasty habit after a fight.

I have four WIPs of both father Paul and Sharp, but I wrote this ficlet in a single sitting yesterday, so here it is. Gif was amateurly made by yours truly.

tw: tobacco usage

Aesop Sharp was no longer surprised to find you lurking about on school grounds after curfew. He wasn't pleased, far from it, actually, but he wasn't surprised. And his displeasure was greatly outweighed by relief that you were alive. He almost wouldn't notice you were it not for the smoke coming from your vicinity, nearly sparkling in the moonlight. He traced it to its origin and found a little orange dot there. The professor neared closer.

You were standing with your back leaned against one of the castle walls, dressed in one of your Highlands ensembles of trousers, blouse and a leather coat. Once he came even closer, he noticed the clothes bore signs of damage. Your right sleeve was terribly charred and the coat and blouse were cut just above your left hip. Dried blood lingered on them. He saw your face now, also finding some dried blood here and there, mixed with dirt and grime, but no actual damage to your person. Must've gulped down some Wiggenwelds before.

In your hand was a lit cigarette. Aesop saw them a few times in London, thin sticks of paper with tobacco within, the ones who wielded them filling the surrounding air with smoke. Smoking was rather popular within the wizarding community as well, but he really only ever saw wizards and witches use pipes. Used one on a few occasions himself, too.

"Isn't this more of a Muggle thing?" he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper. While he disagreed with many things you were doing - mainly putting yourself in danger, your slight savior complex and currently, smoking on school grounds - he still was inexplicably fond of you. He was especially fond of how you seemed to come to a deeper understanding. You probably knew he was there long before he noticed you, yet you stayed. You waited for him. You were very aware he could bring all of his concerns to the Headmaster, most likely resulting in your expulsion, yet you always let him see you. He appreciated that more than he'd ever suspect he would.

It felt very deep and very complex, and Aesop was glad for it, though he didn't really understand why.

"Yes, I suppose. Wouldn't have enough patience for a pipe," you replied, your voice as neutral as if you were talking about the weather, "it doesn't matter that much anyway, I rarely smoke as it is." He leaned against the same wall while you were talking, grateful to be able to take some weight off his bad leg. "I got these from some Frenchman as a gift almost a year ago, the summer between my fifth and sixth year," you continued, "this is my fifth one since. It's quite disgusting really… However, well, there are times when one seems to be exactly what I need at the moment. If you understand."

The potions master didn't say anything for a while. Then, however, his hand moved towards your own, and two long digits took the cigarette out of your hand. Aesop lifted it to his face, closed his lips around it and inhaled. He felt his throat burn, but didn't stop pulling at the smoke. Once his lips parted, he breathed the rest of the way in, before releasing the smoke again in one fluent exhale. He felt the nicotine entering his nervous system and immediately setting off chemical reactions there.

He could feel you staring the entire time, at his hands and fingers first, then moving to his lips.

Wordlessly, he offered the cigarette back to you. You took it, connecting your hands as you too closed your index and middle fingers around it. You then took a drag, closing your eyes as the little orange dot got closer to your fingers.

After that, you wandlessly cast levioso on the remains, before making them burn into ashes with a small incendio. The small amount of dust that remained scattered below into the grass beneath your feet.

"I certainly hope this will not become a habit, Miss (L/N)," Aesop spoke at last. You gave him a lopsided grin, your eyes sparkling at him. "The smoking? I don't think it will, professor. As I said, it really is quite ghastly. As for standing under the stars with my dear potions master, well, that is quite pleasant."

Sharp snorted. "Get yourself cleaned up and go to your dorm, before you spend a month with 'your dear' potions master in his classroom, counting the ingredients stock in Latin, as detention."

It was your turn to let out an amused sound. Yours was a deep chuckle: "Now, that'd be a new one. I better hurry before that potions master actually drags me to my dorm by his teeth."

To both his satisfaction and horror, you actually kissed him on the cheek before swiftly scrambling away.

"Don't kiss me when you smell like tobacco," he mutters just loud enough for you to hear. One more chuckle is his only answer, before he stands on the school grounds alone, the sky above him for once clear of any clouds. Aesop studies the stars above - he was never any good in Astronomy, but still found the stars rather beautiful to look at.

You really were going to be the death of him someday.

What a nice way to go, though.

I hope you enjoyed reading. You can find this work and everything else I've written on AO3. I'm always grateful for feedback <3

#aesop sharp #professor sharp #aesop sharp x reader #aesop sharp x you #professor sharp x reader #pre relationship #teacher student friendship #hogwarts legacy #fanfiction #reader insert #video game fanfic #ficlet #we all know sharp would look breathtaking taking a drag out of a cigarette

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the-faceless-bride · 2 years

Text

Love Me, love me not...

This is the third chapter before the big and final chapter!! This one will show some more light on how relationships were with the boys... Well, the good times at least... This chapter has some Micheal!!!

Tags: @thelostboysbutterfly @thelostone91 @charlizekkelly @star583 @poketnife69 @pinkchocolatcat @p1×1ebby @yor72 @mushrooms444 @bespinnn @patient1666074 @sharksarebeautiful @iloveslasher @shiningdyingmoon @vixen2383 @star583 @poisonprincess82

<- part 2

The last few days have been hell, you've done nothing but lay in bed and cry... You just wanted to wake up and this all be a bad dream.

You walked down the light-up boardwalk looking for the man you've been distracting yourself with...

You missed them...

You missed Paul and the silly jokes he would make when you both danced and laughed...

You laughed as Paul jumped up onto the dried-out fountain as he dramatically lip-syncs to the words.

You smile up at him from your spot on a blanket next to the boombox that loudly played his favorite song, he puts his hands out toward you but you can only bashfully turn away from him,

"What's the matter babe? Can't dance?!" He jokingly yells to you over the echoing music, he hops down before launching himself over you he pulled your head to him until your nose was touching his, still whispering the words, the both of you now giggling before sharing a sweet kiss...

You missed Marko and the way he somehow always pulled you into his mischief...

You didn't have time to process what was happening, all you knew was yelling and hurried footsteps before you felt two glove-covered yet rather chilly hands land on your shoulder before jotting down your arms to you hands and pulling you along, "com'on baby! Run!"

You let Marko drag you down the boardwalk and through alleyways.

The sound of a large group of angry and loud surfers yelling and cursing at Marko, but Marko only laughed.

He looked back to you with his round for-like eyes, a smile across his face as he laughed at what he had gotten the both of you into.

It wasn't until he had cut a corner and picked you up, you both levitated and were shrouded in shadows as the group ran past you both ranting about finding you both.

After a few more moments he let you both drop, he looked around your shoulder and behind him before looking back to you.

He pressed a quick and nippy kiss to your lips before pulling back and finally pulling a stuffed animal from nowhere and handing it to you.

Seems you found out why they were chasing him...

You looked around, the loud music playing and dancing crowed only making it more difficult to find who you were looking for in the crowd...

You missed your quiet nights or endless chatter with Dwayne under the boardwalk...

You laid on the sandy beach, your body on top of Dwaynes' you couldn't hear any heartbeat but you could feel the vibrations of his voice as you listened to him endlessly rant about the thing the terror twins did that put David in a pissy mood that night.

"I swear, sometimes those two make me want to walk out into the sun." He huffs in amusement and you giggle, looking up at the handsome brunette.

"Don't worry princex you won't have to worry about the sun for a while."

You hummed at the thought, you had thought about becoming one of them. To never grow old, to party all night and sleep all day, to spend the rest of eternity with them.

They never offered to turn you- Dwayne lifted himself, being sure to hold you up to not end up in an awkward position before leaning down and giving you a slow and loving kiss- but if they did, you would say yes...

Finally, you spotted him. The black curls that sat on his head always made you want to run your fingers through his hair...

You missed David...

You sat on the bike facing David practically in his lap, his left hand on your hip and the other holding his cigarette.

"Those are bad for you, y'know?" You teased the bleach blonde and he rolls his eyes.

"Thanks, Dollface but I'm not too concerned." He smirks before he buries his face in your neck giving you a small nip.

You let out a small squeal and hit his shoulder before he pulled back and placed a kiss on your forehead...

You loved when he was in a good mood.

You had made your way to Micheal only getting halfway before your heart skipped a beat, and not in the good way you had grown addicted to feeling...

There he was, the one thing you were holding onto. Practically drooling over the same girl your- err, the boys had been suddenly interested in...

Why. Why was this happening to you? Were you really that bad of a person that the universe felt the need to torture you?

You just wanted to love and be loved, the boys didn't like that and left you for this girl. You are trying again and now he is leaving you for the same girl... What did she have you didn't?

It wasn't Micheal who noticed your presence it was the girl, she looked at you and then Micheal before switching back to you.

"Hi, i- I'm Star." She said with an awkward smile holding out he hand for you to take, you took her hand... But didn't smile back.

You told her your name, nothing more.

And it didn't take long for your night to go from bad to worse.

The boys had shown up, making a show of not only Micheal but also of flirting with Star...

You didn't notice but they were looking at you.

When they touched Star, held her, laughed with her when David challenged Micheal, and held his hand for Star to take, they were all looking at you.

Wishing for a sign, a look, a movement, a comment.

Anything!

Anything that could tell them, you wanted them.

You hadn't just forgotten about them being with Micheal...

That you felt something for them...

But you had only looked at Micheal...

Not because you loved him, not because he was looking at only Star... But because you know if you looked anywhere else you would cry.

You didn't want Micheal to go so you wouldn't have to go home and lay with your thoughts of rejection and sorrow.

But all the boys saw was a statement of loyalty to Micheal... That's who you wanted now. And Marko wanted nothing more than to rip his head off so you would only look at them... At him...

But Micheal wanted Star, that's all he could think about.

He took to David's challenge and while the boys didn't want you and Micheal together it pissed them off that it took something so small and easy to get him to ditch you... If it were them they would've spent all night with you even if it meant missing out on hunting that night.

But the boys couldn't dwell on it for too long, for they had a job to do.

And just like that; Star, The boys, and Micheal had driven away leaving you on the boardwalk, with nothing to do but go home, take a bath, and lay in bed with nothing but your thoughts...

Alone again.

Final part ->

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warnersister · 9 months

Text

Gonna give you a baby (smut)

The Beatles x Reader, Paul McCartney x Wife! Reader

Summary: you and Paul have fertility issues, the three men with a thing for you see this as a great opportunity to lend a helping hand. -> hate this one didn’t write it well🤧

Warnings: mentions of infertility, pregnancy, filthy smut, five-some, degrading (slut, whore, etc), hand-jobs, oral (f+m receiving), just a lot.

Requested by: @jill-smith-123

You and Paul had met in the early 50’s. Your family had moved in just down the street from him and the 10 year old McCartney was awestruck from the moment he laid eyes on you. The next day, he’d showed up at your house, to which your less-than-pleased father had answered the door, with a bow-tie and bouquets of flowers he’d taken from your mother’s new garden, to ask you to accompany him to the local youth centre for disco night.

He’d bought you a sherbet straw while he puffed on candy cigarettes before pecking your lips with tight-shut eyes mid way through you dining along to The Andrews Sisters’ song your mother had on vinyl.

When you were each a bit older, you’d accompanied Paul to the cavern club sitting in the front row as you’d hummed along with him, his eyes never drawing away from your own. Then he’d take you for dinner, a real fancy restaurant that his uncle owned, and he said that he’d pay - but it was always on the house.

Eventually, another three boys had somehow weaselled their way into your life and the product was an up and coming band: The Beatles. John Lennon, George Harrison, Pete- (scratch that) Richard Starkey and your boy Paul McCartney. And it was no secret that the three also had a thing for you - between the constant bickering and playful flirtations, Paul brushed it off because he always knew in the end that you were always his, and he was always yours.

Especially when he proposed on your twentieth birthday in 1962. Beatlemania crazed the nation and it wasn’t long before scandalous magazines began to accuse the boys of unruly acts and Paul was no different. And realistically, Paul saw the only way fit to prove his innocence to you was to ask for your hand in marriage. With your father’s approval of course… (?)

The fame never concerned you, nor did it necessarily appeal to you either - so you’d had a small ceremony in the local church, doors locked for a healthy gathering of your closest family and friends and an after party conjoined with a reception in the Cavern Club into the early hours of the morning.

“Y’know love, I never read a rule that said your first night had to be with your actual husband.” George had whispered into your ear, smirking at you after seeing the look on your face. “Not her first night.” Paul responded, hints of jealously in his tone as he threw you over his shoulder and off to his car.

That was also the night you’d discovered Paul’s intense breeding kink. His hips pushing into you at a bruising rate, lips failing him as he stuttered out his desire to see you full with his children.

But that was the problem.

“Am I the problem?” You’d asked Paul as you buried your face in his neck, crying after umpteen times, you still weren’t pregnant. “No, no, not at all dove.” He caressed your back gently. “We’re just going to have to be moved patient and keep trying. You’re perfect.” He said softy, cupping your puffy face between his hands, looking you over with a concerned gaze.

“Hey, woah woah woah what’s up lovey?” John asked as the other band members entered the room. They all ran to your side, helplessly watching the tears roll down your cheeks. “I can’t get pregnant.” You sniffed, hiccuping as the tears continued to flow. Ringo’s hands cupped yours as his sad eyes looked into yours. “Maybe there’s just not enough.” He said and your brows creased.

“Y’know our offer is always on the table.” George’s continued. “What offer?” You asked, confused. “Y’ mean you never told her, paulie boy?” John cocked his head. “No, cause I know what you lot are like.” “What y’ on about?” You ask again. “All of us.” George said. “Y’ mean-” “all of us at once.” John took your chin between his fingers and squatted down to where you were sat. “Wrecking y’ can handle us, dovey?” Shocked, you look from John to Paul who had a knowing smirk frowning on his lips. Without thinking, you nod at them. Suddenly, you were swept off of your feet and into the arms of John. “Let’s make you a baby.”

A king size bed was certainly not big enough to support the five of you, but in the boys’ desperation, you certainly managed. You were placed down gently on the bed, soft covers enveloping you as the four starved men looked down at you with lustful eyes. Your clothes were practically torn from your body, apparently them being to impatient to allow you to get undressed properly.

Paul caressed your hair gently before leaning into kiss you, as you begin to feel light kisses and licks on your breasts. You look down to see John staring back at you, a cheeky grin on his lips. He bit your nipple harshly and you hissed, screwing your eyes tight and throwing your head back. “Better get used to that if y’ want a baby.” George said, tracing his hand up and down the sensitive skin on your inner thigh.

Then all the delicious contact went again and you groaned, searching for the friction they were giving you. “Y’ want a baby? Y’ gonna have to let us get undressed first.” George chuckled. When they were undressed, John situated himself between your legs. “Oi, shift she’s my missus I’m having the first go.” Paul grumbled. “And the reason she can’t get pregnant.” John replied smugly, but was shoved out of the way by your husband. “Y’ gonna show em what a good slut y’ are for me, hmm?” He asked, fingers wandering down your thigh and towards your heat, beginning to pump them at an agonisingly slow pace.

George yanked your hair back and forced you to look at him, your mouth falling agape in the process. “Y’ gonna be good for us? Gonna give old Paulie a baby?” He taunted, rubbing himself a few times before forcing his length into your mouth. Gagging slightly, you tried your best to open your throat in the position you were in.

A heat built up inside of you, warmth rushing as you chased your high but it was soon stripped from you. Unable to complain, the disheartenment was soon replaced by something much larger - you and Paul groaned simultaneously, George doing the same as you sent vibrations flying through his cock.

After a while of Paul’s bruising pace, you rest his unwavering hips stutter as he released into you, you doing the same and realising all over him. George pulled out of your mouth and thrust himself into his hand a few times before also cumming. “Such a filthy whore.” Paul taunted, enamoured by the drool leaking from your lips.

“My turn now, birdie?” Ringo asked and you hummed, still dazed and coming off of your high. “He asked you a question. You being a disobedient slut for him?” John asked and you shook your head no. “Y-yes, your turn Richie.” You managed to stutter out.

His dick hardened at his routine nickname, needing no time to prepare you so without warning, sliding himself straight in. He let out a big breath of air at the feeling of your soft wall enveloping him. He began thrusting at an agonisingly slow pace, you in turn, crying out in desperation. “Patience now, doll.” Ringo told you. “Good things come to those who wait.” He took his time with you, not knowing when an opportunity like this one would come again.

Your head fell to the side and your eyes connected with John’s, who looked down at you with a small shit-eating grin. He leant down and licked your ear love, whispering gently “gonna give me a hand job while you let your husband’s friend take you?” You moaned at his question but nodded at him, raising your hand to rub up and down his hardening cock, swiping the tip a few times to use his pre-cum as some sort of lubricant. You pulled away and spat saliva into your palm, beginning to jerk him off at a faster rare. “Isn’t your first rodeo, is it dove?” John asked with a chuckle. “Got you well trained, haven’t I chick?” Paul said, leaning down to latch his lips onto yours.

Your high came excruciatingly slow, Richard building up the pace to the point he could no longer take it and took you animalistically, only stopping to release his seed deep into your womb and felt you cum over him. Waiting long enough for some of it to sink in, he slowly pulled out and kissed at the cold air attaching his sensitive member.

John released into your hand and felt his cock re-stiffen at the sight of you licking your hand clean. “Fuck. Me next.” He said, walking around the bed to your feet and positioning himself between your legs, feeling yourself being manoeuvred like some inhuman marionette. He moved you until your face was in the sheets and back arched for him, arse and sweet warmth on display for him. “Can’t let any of their cum get out, can we love?” He’d asked tauntingly, nails digging painfully rough into your hips.

He slipped in quickly, cock twitching at the sound you made, sensitive from the numerous rounds you had been put through. “Can’t believe Paul gets to keep you all to himself. A little slut all for him.” He said, staring to pepper kissed down your back while his hands found your breasts. Your arse was unquestionably bruised, as was your neck from the way Ringo and George were sucking at either side of it. John let out his load deep inside of you, full ovaries feeling themself being stuffed by the liquid trickling down into them.

George had waited so patiently for his turn, so patient with a so painful hard-on that he was going to make you regret giving him. Seeing himself torture you would be enough of a reason to make himself wait a few more moments. He spun you around and returned you into your back, kneeling down to kiss and worship the skin of your inner thighs, yet never close enough to provide the friction you so-desperately needed.

He kissed and sucked at your clit, thumb coming up to rub it as his tongue delved deep into your walls, making you cry out at the sight of their cum on his tongue. He thrust it into you a half a dozen more times before standing up and forcing his elongated cock into you. You hissed, pained by the repetitive beatings your intestines were receiving.

“Such a good little brat for us aren’t you?’ Paul asked, staring down at you as if a predator staring at its helpless pray. “Yes, ‘m good.” You repeated, doing as you were told as he tapped your chin to tell you to open it. You parted your lips and allowed your husband to force his dick into your already sore and throbbing throat.

George’s hips snapped at a consistent and quick pace, eyes not deferring from yours as he watched you take his bandmate’s cock so well. “Take him so well, don’t you dove?” He asked, praising you as you hummed and Macca moaned. George put his thumb onto your overstimulated clit and pressed down harshly. You cried out but tried your best to keep your throat open. “That’s if, keep it open.” Your husband taunted. And with a few more final thrusts, George cummed inside of you as you did the same, Paul releasing deep down your throat and you refrained from coughing - instead harshly swallowing and wiping the remaining resales from your mouth with your tongue and the back of your head.

“You were such a good girl.” John said, petting your hair gently and pecking your forehead. “Y’ alright, princess?” Ringo asked and you looked up at him and smiled with a nod. “Definitely gonna give Paulie boy a baby for being so good.” George added as he strolled your leg comfortingly. You enjoyed the praise you were receiving, letting the men manoeuvre you so you were in Paul’s lap. With your eyes shut, you felt yourself being lowered onto his cock and you hissed in both oversensitivity and surprise. You looked at your husband with tired eyes. “Don’t want any of it to go to waste.” He said with a wink and cheeky little smile. “Thank you.” You mumbled, drifting to sleep on his chest their quiet conversation turning into distant white noise.

A week or two later, your head was in the toilet bowl as Paul pulled your hair back into a make-shift pony tail and caressed your back at seven in the morning to let you be sick. “It’s alright love, think you’re coming down with something.” He said, pressing the back of his hand against your forehead to check for a fever. It was winter after all and your unreliable immune system was no match for England winters. “I’ll take you to the pharmacy, yeah?” And you’d nodded, wiping your mouth and letting him lead you out to the car.

You weren’t sick, unless your count baby fever. You were pregnant. Pregnant with a child. Pregnant with Paul’s(?) baby. The two of you were overjoyed and as were the rest of the boys when they found out, although offering if you wanted to have two in there just to ask, not minding the sight of you naked and belly swelling with a child.

And eight and a half months later, two weeks premature, your water broke at midnight. Paul sped to the hospital, mentally timing the distance between your contractions to tell the midwife when you got there. After a while of pushing, swearing, breaking Paul’s fingers, and him nearly dainton at the sight of the head coming out of such a small area, at seven minutes past 8, your son was born.

The boys all crowed around, in awe at the new baby in your arms. “He has his mother’s chin.” Paul notes, grinning from ear to ear. “And his fathers face.” The lads then piped up. “And Ringo’s droopy eyes-” George stated but was Vito off by the man himself “oi, oh yeah actually he does. And John’s nose.” John hummed. “And George’s eye colour and ears.” You all began laughing.

Whoever’s paternal child this may be, he was certainly a gift you yourself, your husband, and the three men who tagged along with you.

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danosrosegarden · 11 months

Text

Angel (Part One) - Edward Nashton x GN!Reader

Contains: mentions/descriptions of sex work (reader is a sex worker), toxic relationships, and smoking. Also, reader's gender is never mentioned, but they are bisexual (it is a very minor detail).

Note: this is my big series I've had planned out for a long time, and I'm so excited to finally release chapter one! A disclaimer: I do not intend to disrespect sex work with the reader's situation here. They are unhappy with their work and have had negative experiences in the past. This is not the experience of all sex workers, simply just one fictional story. I also want to make it clear: Angel Eddie is based off Paul Dano's 2022 interpretation of The Riddler, but will have minor differences.

It was the sort of bleak, frosty rain that splashed through your skin and absorbed into your bones, the bitterly icy water leaking drop by drop into your marrow. Your skin was prickled with goosebumps as you shivered through the cloud-soaked night.

He was just another client. God, how you tried to convince yourself Marshall was just another client. It broiled in your brain and screamed in your blood...he was just another client. But what other client had you lived with for five months? What other client held you ever so gently when the dark void of night fell and you felt the festering handprints of the past gripping your hips? There would never be another one like him.

You forgot how long you had been wandering the streets after Marshall kicked you out. There were times before when he would come home drunk and angry, yelling at you to get the fuck out of his sight. He would remember how used you were and want you gone. But there was a feeling burning inside of your gut, the flames licking the flesh of your stomach. The burning feeling this was the final time. He wouldn't have you back. You weren't sure what you expected, exactly...tears? A screaming match? Shattered glass? Tearing through his apartment and your shared memories, eyes scorching red with searing hot acrimony? You weren't sure. What ended up being was the rain-slicked streets of Gotham and the air around you soaked with a thick sheet of silence.

You searched the roads for an awning...any swath of dryness would do. You just wanted a cigarette, that's all. You adjusted your bag's strap on your shoulder and thought about the contents as the frigid rain continued to slice into your skin. Three packs of menthol cigarettes, your ID and debit card, and a couple hundred dollars in twenties. You couldn't remember if the money was yours or Marshall's. You couldn't be asked to give a fuck. You had grabbed it off the kitchen counter as Marshall screamed and tore the place apart. So what, you had seen a different client while staying with him? You didn't know things were so official that he would get so upset. You needed the money. You had to pay half the bills somehow, after all. Who cared now? You were out and on your own. That's all that mattered.

You spotted the car from across the street in the empty parking lot of Josephine's. God, you hadn't been to Josephine's in years. You wondered if she still had a special original pastry of the month. You wondered how disappointed she would be if she saw how far you had fallen away from yourself.

You felt as if you were morphing back into yourself when you had first started as you made your way across the street. Back when you would approach men in cars, girls at clubs, people anywhere, any time. You were hungry for experience, determined to scratch an abundance of notches on your bedpost. Maybe through taking on more and more clients, you could find something resembling self-worth if you held it in a certain light. It never did work, but that wouldn't stop you from trying again.

You knocked on the car window and waited.

It didn't roll down. You tried again.

The man sitting inside was startled by the noise, jumping in his seat and staring at you with wide, bloodshot eyes. His hair reached past his ears and was frazzled at the ends. He stared at you for a few more seconds before a gravelly bark came from him.

"What."

"Roll your window down."

Reluctantly, the man rolled down his window, continuing to peer deep into your eyes as you bent down to his window's height.

"Can I get in?" you tried. You knew you were being stupid, but you were past the point of caring about much of anything anymore.

"I'm not letting you in," the man said curtly.

For God's sake, could you catch any kind of break tonight?

"Please. It's raining hard, and I was just kicked out of my apartment. I have nowhere to go," you begged.

The man rolled his window up, and you felt the stitches of your heart tear apart. You felt as though you had run out of chances. A street cat who had run out of lives. With your heart split into two, your blood running rimy, and your bones shaking in your skin, you knelt down next to the strangers car and cried. You had never felt more lost in the wind than now, with even the sounds of your broken snivels drowned out by the pouring rain.

The sound of the car door opening and slamming shut made you jump. The man from inside the car popped the trunk and rifled through it for a moment before pulling out a clear umbrella. He shut the trunk and walked over to you, opening the umbrella and kneeling beside you.

"Here."

It was small enough to where only one person would fit under it. With a trembling hand, you took it from him. An instantaneous burst of laughter exploded from your chest as you felt the relief from the rain. The man jumped again at the sound of your laugh.

"What?"

You shook your head, coughing and strangling your laughter. "I'm very happy to not get rained on anymore, I guess. I've been out here for awhile."

The man nodded and ran a hand through his hair. You sat in silence for a moment before a wave of newfound warmth and confidence crashed over you.

"My name is Y/N."

The man looked down at his shoes.

"You don't have to tell me your name. But I wanted to say thank you for the umbrella. And for sitting here with me, I guess. Tonight has been...rough. It's nice to have a little bit of company."

"My name is Edward."

You peered at his features: the strong bump of his nose, the freckles dotting his cheeks, the violet bags tugging at the skin underneath his eyes, the pout of his thin lips. He was interesting to view.

"Hi, Edward."

He said nothing.

In the middle of this downcast, hopeless evening, something inside you was whispering that you had found peace. And maybe it was just for tonight. Maybe it was just for as long as Edward would stay with you beside his car in Josephine's parking lot. But it felt warmer than Marshall's touch. It felt safer than having to sit through his drunken outbursts. It was quiet, which you weren't used to in your life, but it was warm. Safe. Good.

You rested your chin on your knees and closed your eyes, letting the last drops of rain fall from your soaked clothes as Edward sat up and opened the car door for you.

"You can get in, if you'd like."

#Eli's writing #Danonation #Paul Dano #Edward Nashton #The Riddler #The Batman #Edward Nashton x reader #The Riddler x reader #Edward Nashton x you #The Riddler x you #Edward Nashton x Y/N #The Riddler x Y/N

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