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#Bev: (giggling) hi!
sallytwo · 1 year
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The fact that wesley lost the chance to have a relationship with his little brother years before he was even born, while jack has no idea why his brother whose a god hasn't shown up. The tragedy keeps on going.
HI ANON!!!! HI!!! FOR FUCKING REAL. like we see very clearly in when the bough breaks that wes is really good with kids and i’m sure jackie boy couldve used an older brother growing up especially with picard out of the picture. and it gets into this warped tragedy cuz everyone is wondering why wesley wouldn’t come back. but he didn’t even know he had a brother . or even worse if he wanted to come back and saw that HIS MOM LITERALLY REPLACED HIM WITH A NEW SON like… what would you do there.
also with jacks upbringing roaming around on the run from the law i’m sure he was super envious of wesley growing up relatively more “stable” on the enterprise. and for wesley who dealt with the oppressive force of starfleet since he was a kid and never got super close to his mom cuz they both had issues about jack 1 (and she sort of abandoned him for a year when she went to starfleet medical :/ ) (sorry women) he would give anything to have grown up away from starfleet and with his mom. jack growing up in this shadow of the fucking. tragedy of wesley disappearing (which definetly led to bev being more paranoid and cautious) and jack sort of hating him for that but wesley not even being able to come back and not knowing he even had a brother.
and yadda yadda picard being wesley’s surrogate father figure for awhile and jack who’s picards actual son but never had that relationship with him. wes who never got to know his father and jack who chose not to have a relationship with his. JACK BEING NAMED AFTER WESLEYS DEAD DAD THAT HE HAD(HAS?) ISSUES ABOUT.. It’s Clinical . I don’t get why they won’t let these two meet because they’re like designed to play off each other SO WELL!!! star trek picard please it would be geniuenly so narratively interesting to bring wesley into this drama. come on.
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dizzybevvie · 1 year
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reminder that Beverly had a crush on Erdan
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purelyfiction · 2 months
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stars in a line - robert 'bob' floyd x f!reader
Word Count: 1,207 words
Summary: Chicken's in the skillet, ice in the drink, head's in the clouds, diamond's in the rough, he's in a Chevy and I'm in love // Tips in the apron, hair's in a braid, Mercury's all in retrograde // He's in a T-shirt all cleaned up, Good lord almighty, mama don't wait up // Chills down my spine, hearts on the line, He's all mine and I'm in love
Content Warning: fluff!! also note of animal abandonment
Author Note: another round for @ohtobeleah 's galentines writings :))))))
the familiar rumble of the older engine makes your features split with a smile. when bob had told you he was gonna drive his truck from montana to california you thought he was losing his mind.
then he'd explained why he was so insistent.
that he'd taken you out in that '87 Chevy all those years ago. after weeks of coming into the diner you worked in after school, dozens and dozens of milkshake and fry basket combos (and subsequent heartburn) just so he could hang out with you. he'd gotten up the nerve to finally ask you out. that truck had been your front row seats at the drive in watching a rerun of some old army movie his dad had recommended.
he'd taken the two of you to prom in that truck. to high school graduation, your college graduation. when the engine died on you while he was stationed in atlanta he'd taught you how to fix the thing via facetime.
beverly the chevy had been there for so many of your big moments. she'd been the reason why bob ended up buying the house that you stood contently in.
'bev is gonna need a place out of the elements if she's gonna stay top notch.'
this house had been the only one with a two car garage. one side for bev and one side for your car.
now when the engine rumbles echoed in the garage and made the older house vibrate, you couldn't help but grin. the sizzling of chicken in a skillet on the stove greets bob when he steps into the kitchen. he's greeted with the smell and a bottle of wine in a pile of ice in the sink. the door to the garage shuts, and you glance over your shoulder. when you do, you're witnessing the brown paper bouquet in his hands, white t-shirt on his shoulders, levis hugging his waist, trucker cap right where it belongs. he knows what this does to you. it's a simple look, nothing more than the basics but that's what does it. it highlights him. the man you love, bare bones and all.
the same man you fell for in that truck bed all those years ago.
he slides his boots off and wraps his arms around you from behind you, showing off the flowers he carried in. "happy flowers to you," he's humming now, making you giggle as his arms tight around you start bouncing you back and forth as he sings to the tune of 'happy birthday', "happy flowers to you, happy flowers, happy flowers, to my valentine youuuuuu" he punctuates the end of the song with a sloppy kiss to your cheek as you ease the weight of the florals from his hand.
"these are stunning, bo." you grin as he lets go, letting you turn to face him fully as he smiles.
"i know, i picked 'em cause they remind me of you." bob grins before pressing a quick kiss to your lips, barely pulling back when he speaks again, "happy valentines, sweet girl." you repeat the sentiment before he takes the arrangement and starts to get them into water.
you can't help but stare as he begins trimming the ends of each stem, easing them into the vase. you can smell the freshness of his body wash, having showered on base before he came home to you. couldn't waste time on your night together - and he knew it. the combination on him is near lethal to you. if you weren't actively cooking dinner, the counter would have been supplying a different kind of heat to the kitchen.
"i bought you something!" you nearly startle him with your sudden announcement, the reminder of your gift hitting you as you watch him. running down the hall causes the pup in the living room to chase after you, causing you and bob to both laugh.
shadow had been an unplanned addition to your lives because the poor pup appeared on your back deck one night. the collar on his neck held your current address. the previous owners had barely been involved with the process of the sale, so you didn't have their contact information to tell them hey assholes, you left your dog.
so, you and bob joked that the house came with a guardian, a black lab and german shepherd mix (bob got his dna tested out of infuriating curiosity). he quickly clung to the two of you - thus 'shadow'.
you lug the box into the kitchen, where bob has kept an eye on the meal you had recklessly abandoned. looking at you he huffs a gasp. "sweet girl, this is unnecessary." he laughs, taking the wrapped gift from your arms and sliding it onto the counter. still, he tears into it and reveals the milkshake maker, making him laugh, looking over at you with a grin. "that why you got your hair all done like this?" he grins, his fingers moving over the braid you'd plaited this morning.
"maybe." you hum, kissing his cheek as he looks over the box holding the machine. that diner the two of you met in had closed not long after you moved to san diego. you'd spent hours there and he'd once complimented the ribbon in your hair when it was woven into the braid on your head. recently, bob had mentioned how he'd missed those milkshakes they'd always made him.
he grins, before tucking his hand into his pocket. "hold out your hand." you hold it out as he asks, palm up. what he sets into your palm catches you off guard.
you'd been expecting something small, likely a jewelry box or something, like the years before.
instead a little metal circle is dropped into your palm. shining and glimmering. diamonds along it like stars in a line. your spine is electrified with chills, as your jaw drops as you look at him in awe. "bob, what-you-"
"i can get on my knee if you want, i'm just- i'm so in love with you. i'm truly in awe of you and how valid you make me feel. how valued and cherished i feel - how you listen," his head nods to the machine on the counter, "and you care and you never fail to be the best. just simply the best. i hope that i am for you-"
cutting him off you speak, "and you are," he laughs.
"then i wanna continue being that for you. for forever." you're sliding the new piece of jewelry onto your ring finger before he can get the words out, your arms slinking around his shoulders and linking your lips with his.
when you pull back, you grin.
"you're mine. i'm all yours and i'm in love. i'm so in love with you. with our life and the path we're on." you whisper. his hand takes a hold of your arm before the two of you jump at the sound of a smoke detector, both of you scrambling to clear the kitchen of smoke.
when the alarm is off and the burnt chicken is tossed, you smirk as you pull ice cream from the fridge.
"ice cream for dinner?" you try. bob grins.
"how about milkshakes instead?"
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13as07 · 1 month
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Spitting Image Prequel
(Gaara Sabaku Smut)
[Artwork is not mine! Credit to Bev-Nap]
Requested by: Myself
Word Count: 4,240
Warnings and/or Pre-Notes:
Alcohol drinking/Drunk sex
Soft boi virgin Gaara
Praising/“Good Boy”
Hickeys/Scratch Marks
Mommy kink (you can’t convince me that Gaara doesn’t have a mommy kink)
Pleasure kink
Begging
Oral (female receiving)
Creampie
———————————————————————
The neon lights of the bar cut through the darkness, pulling me towards it like a moth. This day has sucked, this week has sucked, this month has sucked. Plus, the promise of cheap margaritas is almost impossible to deny. I'm a sucker for a cheap alcohol-induced night.
     "Welcome in! Margaritas are two hundred yen a glass tonight!" The short-haired bartender calls out, a toothy grin on her face.
     "Start me off with a strawberry margarita," I order, sliding into an empty barstool at the counter. "Then slide me a lime one once it's done."
     "So start your second one as soon as I'm done with your first?" She asks a laugh following her words.
     "Ya, pretty much," I giggle out too, slapping my ID onto the counter before laying six hundred yen on top. "Keep the extra as a tip, love."
     "Damn, already sweet talking me. One strawberry and one lime marg coming up," the bartender says, snatching up my ID and the cash. She glances at my ID, checking my age before sliding it into the tab box alongside another twenty or thirty others.
It doesn’t take long for my drinks to come. As promised, I down the first one before taking my time with the second. As I’m sipping on the lime drink, the taste of it justifying the price, a voice rings out. “Sorry ma’am, but is this seat taken?”
I turn my head towards the voice, a shorter man with a head of shaggy red hair at the end of the sound. His hair interests me, it’s a dark red instead of the normal pale-red gingers tend to be. I wonder if it’s a dye job. “No, it’s not taking, sunshine.”
“O…oh,” the man stutters, slowly sliding into the stool next to me. “Thank you, for the seat,” he mumbles, a hand running through his hair. When his hair flips up because of the movement, a tattooed red mark is exposed on his forehead, only interesting me even more.
“Of course. No lady likes to drink alone,” I answer, the buzz of my margs setting in. “No girl likes to buy her drinks either.”
The man’s eyes blink slowly, exposing the black circles around his eyes. How cute, a hot ginger that’s good at eyeliner. “Would… would you like me to buy you a drink? Is that what you’re asking?”
I let out a deep laugh as a smile cracks across my face. “You don’t get hit on often do you?”
Another round of slow blinking before a soft “no” peeps out.
“Yes, I’m asking you to buy me a drink.”
The man’s face scrunches, nonexistent eyebrows smashed together. The red is totally a dye job. “What would you like to drink?”
“A mango margarita, please, sunshine.”
Mr Sunshine stumbles over his words as he orders a drink for himself and me. His eyes are wide and stuck on me as we wait for our drinks, the intenseness of his stare poking at my nerves. “So… I haven’t seen you around the village before. Are you from the Leaf or just passing through?”
“I am from the Village Hidden in the Sand.”
“Oh, that’s… cool. Whatcha doing here then?”
“I was meeting with your village’s Hokage,” he mutters, eyes flickering down to our drinks being set on the countertop.
“Oh, so you’re a Shinobi then?” I ask, my interest sparked even more. I’ll be the first one to admit I’m a bit of a band chaser. I don’t know what it is, but Shinobis just do it for me. Besides, they’re the best for one-night stands. There’s a million of them and they’re usually too busy for anything more than a rang and bang.
“Um… I guess so.”
“You guess so?” I ask, downing my drink quicker than I probably should. “Well, if I ask if your hair is naturally red are you going to say you guess so?” I add, shifting closer to the man.
“I… um… yes, I’m… I’m naturally a redhead,” the man stutters, his cheeks quickly growing the same shade as his hair. “And you… you’re really close to my face.”
I let out a hum, slowly backing away from the shinobi. “Sorry, I’m coming off a little strong,” I mutter, waving down the bartender, who goes into action starting another drink. What’s that? Number four? Maybe I should slow down. Mr Shinobi is still nursing drink number one. “Not much of a drinker are you?”
“No, I am not. I’m only here because my brother wants to ‘get blasted’ before his wedding,” the man says, the words ‘get blasted’ falling out of his mouth like it left a nasty taste behind. “I am just here because he said I have to be.”
“What is it that you don’t like about drinking?” I ask, trying to push the conversation forward.
“I do not like my senses being unbeneficial. Besides, most alcohol does not taste good.”
“Well duh, you ordered a double shot of whiskey. If you want something that tastes good you need to get something fruity, like my margaritas. Want to try?” I push my untouched glass towards him, encouraging him to try something different.
“My sister says margaritas are girly drinks.”
“So? Who cares what your sister thinks?”
The man’s eyes settle on me again, his eyes round and full of confusion. “Why are you talking to me?”
“Because I’m a little more than buzzed and you’re a little more than hot,” I answer honestly, shifting closer to him. I rest a hand on his knee, resting my head against his so I can whisper in his ear. “Besides, I love the sight of a ginger on his knees.”
“You wish to have sex?” The man asks, his eyes widened again and hands fluttering up and down my arms. “You… you wish for me…. To…?”
I let out a few giggles, pressing a kiss to his cheek before I settle in my seat again. “Yes, but not until I slow down or until you catch up a bit, Sunshine.”
The Shinobi blinks a couple of times before his focus shifts to the drink I pushed toward him. He picks it up, downing it in a few gulps before setting the glass back down. “I do not like mangoes.”
I laugh again, sliding my nails over the inside of his thigh as I do so. “We could have ordered you a different flavor you know. What fruits do you like?”
“Apples.”
“Then let’s get you an apple margarita, ya?”
“Okay,” he mumbles, leaning closer as his eyes glare into mine. The closeness and intensity spook me a bit. “You are a strange person.”
“Why do you say that?”
“People usually don’t enjoy my… company.”
“You’re pretty, I don’t know who wouldn’t enjoy your company. But enough about your looks, you got any hobbies?”
The boy seems even more confused like he’s never given his looks any thought. “Plants,” he races out, eyes glancing at the apple-mixed drink that the bartender has left on the counter.
“Oh ya? I love plants. Willow trees are my favorite though,” I say, going on a ramble about the planet. The man nods along with my rant, his eyes locked on me the whole time. They’re pretty, slit, and a soft opal color. Dear Lord, all I can imagine is those pretty eyes looking up at me as he sits on his knees. “What’s your favorite plant, sunshine?”
“Barrel cactus!” He races out, blinking at me on repeat again. I get the feeling the man has never talked about himself before. “I… I mean, barrel cactus,” he says in a softer tone this time.
“Ya? Why’s that?”
                   ————————————
     The Sand Shinobi clung to me is as red as his hair, cheeks heated as his head presses into my neck. “You are pretty,” he murmurs against my throat, his body weight pressed into me.
“You are hot,” I compliment back, swaying a bit because of the man’s weight and the alcohol flowing through my system.
“No, you are like really pretty and nice and your skin is so soft, and oh my that sounds murderous,” the redhead mumbles on and on, his hands sliding over my bare arms as he nuzzles his nose against me. “You are so nice. Did I tell you that? You have been really nice to me. I want you to feel nice. Let me make you feel nice. Please?”
The high-ranked shinobi’s ‘please’ comes out whiney, turning my gears even more as I unlock my front door. “Ya? You want to make me feel nice?” I mumble, throwing my things onto the table next to the front door.
“Please? I want you to feel nice, so bad. Let me make you feel nice,” the redhead begs, his hands wandering up and down my shirt, gripping the material like he might fall over without me.
While we were at the bar we talked about what he does for work. I don’t know what any of the things he said meant but he kept talking about the Kage palace so he must be some kind of high rank ninja. Having such a highly regarded shinobi begging to go down on me only turns me on more.
“You want to make me feel nice, sunshine?” I ask, shifting in his hold so we’re face-to-face. His head shakes like crazy, and his eyes are soft for the first time tonight but still locked on me like I’m the core of the Earth. “Be a good boy and kneel for me, okay?”
“Okay,” he breathes out, sinking to his knees, his hands sliding down to grip my hips as he moves.
“Dear lord,” I mutter, the sight of the shinobi looking up at me rushing arousal down my body. His head is lead against me, chin gently pressed against the waistband of my pants, eyes locked on me, and hands gripping my love handles. “You look so hot right now.”
“You are beautiful. You are the moon. You are the stars hung in the sky,” he mutters, eyes intensely on my face as he looks up at me. “But I do not know what I’m doing.”
“What?” I ask, toying with the ends of his hair. “Have you never gone down on a girl before?”
“I have never done… anything with… anyone,” he mutters, cheeks heating up again as his eyes flicker around. “But I do wish to make you feel nice. Tell me how to make you feel nice. Please?”
“Ah… are you sure?” I ask, tugging his arms off of me. “We’re both drunk. This isn’t how you want to lose your virginity,” I continue to ramble, walking away from the man kneeling on my floor.
“No, please. Pretty please?” The man begs, crawling across the floor after me. “You’ve made me feel good all night. Let me make you feel nice,” he begs, wrapping his arms around my hips again and burying his head into my stomach. “Please?”
I let out a sigh, toying with his hair again as he nuzzles my stomach. “Alright, sunshine. Let’s go into the bedroom though, okay?”
The Sand Shinobi lights up at my agreement, his hands sliding up, picking me off my feet as he stands up again. He’s a bit wobbly as he adjusts to his drunken balance and my added weight. He’s still a bit unbalanced as he tries the doors, opening the spare room packed full of storage before he opens the door to my room. “You’re really pretty,” he tells me again, settling me on the bed.
I lock my legs around his waist, keeping him stuck on top of me. “You’re really hot,” I echo, shoving my hands into his hair as I tug his face down.
I crash my lips against his, rubbing myself on his growing bulge. “Oh my… you’re… we’re…” the redhead mutters into my mouth, his hands crawling up and down my sides. I let out a giggle, using my hold on his hair to shift his head to the side. “You, you, you… you’re…” The words stumble out of him as I brush my lips across his neck, softly sucking on his skin every couple of kisses.
“Do you want me to stop?” I mumble, working a hand out of his hair to toy with the hem of his shirt.
“No! Please, no. Please keep going,” he gushes out, hands clinging to my hips, pressing me down against him as he takes over our humping. “I want… I want to make you feel good. Tell me… tell me how to make you feel good.”
“Slow down a bit, sunshine,” I hum, tugging his shirt up. My eyes flicker a bit, rolling over the outline of his stomach muscles. “Take your shirt off for me, okay?”
The man moves quickly, sliding his shirt off and tossing it to the ground before settling back in his spot. “Now what do I do?” He asks opal-eyes stuck on me as he waits for his directions.
“Keep moving your hips,” I order, the man going straight to rubbing against me again. I let out steady breaths, trying to keep my mind straight to work our way through this. “That’s it, you’re being such a good boy,” I mumble, tugging my shirt off too.
“I’m… I’m what?” He asks, soft eyes blinking like crazy as his pace picks up. His eyes flicker between my face and my chest, mouth almost watering as he looks at my boobs.
“You’re being a good boy,” I repeat, gripping his hair to tug his face toward my chest. “Keep being a good boy. Kiss and suck on my chest as you hump me, okay?”
“Yes… yes, ma’am,” he whispers, lips brushing against my chest, occasionally testing different ways of sucking on my skin. “It’s… there’s marks,” he whines, nose nuzzling me before he litters my boobs in more kisses. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to leave marks.”
“I like marks,” I coo, raking my fingers through his hair. “You can leave as many marks as you wish.”
“I… I want… take it off,” the Shinobi husks out, a hand sliding under the wire of my bra. “Please take it off. Pretty please? I want… I want to suck on… please?”
A smile slides onto my lips from the sound of the redhead’s desperation. I give into his wants, sliding my hands behind my back to unclasp my bra. An audible whimper spills from the hardass shinobi when my boobs tumble out, his eyes blown out and entangled in my chest. His eyes flicker up to mine, his question stuck on his lips. “Go ahead, sunshine.”
With the permission voiced, his head dips down, his tongue sliding out to cup my nipple before he sucks it into his mouth. My hand searches for his, gripping it and tugging it up to my free boob. “Fuck, sunshine,” I whimper, working my hips against his as he toys with my chest.
“Hey,” I hiss after a couple of minutes, tugging his mouth off of me.
“I’m sorry. Did I hurt you? I’m so sorry,” he rambles, his desperation soaking out from his eyes, quickly coating his face.
“Hey, hey, hey, calm down,” I soothe, gently pushing his head down my body. “You just sucked a little too long, it’s no biggie.”
More sorrys tumble out of him as he kisses down my stomach, both hands on my chest now, squeezing my boobs as his mouth coats my torso. “I… what do…?” A whine falls from him, his inexperience getting to him.
“Sunshine, please calm down. You’re working yourself up. I’ll walk you through it,” I tell him, my fingers sliding under my waistband to tug my pants off. The ginger’s fingers wrap around the band too, quickly tugging my pants down my legs.
Once he’s back between my legs, my hands fall on his hair, slowly shifting his head down. “Can… I want… please?”
“Do whatever you want, sunshine,” I coo, twirling his hair around my fingertips. He jumps right in, coating my thighs in kisses and soft suckles as his hands grip my legs. His fingers dig into my flesh, sifting my legs open and closed around his head.
“I…” he mutters, tapping his nose against my underwear. “I want…”
“What do you want, sunshine?” I ask, toying with him as I grind myself against him. “Use your words like a good boy.”
“I want to go down on you. I want to taste you. I want you to feel good. Please? Mommy please?” I snap his head away from me, the bedroom name ringing in my head. “I’m sorry,” he races out, his opal eyes shiny and wide as he looks at me. “I didn’t… I don’t know why I said that. It won’t happen again.”
“It’s… fine. It just called me off guard is all,” I mumble, shifting his head back into please. I let out a few deep breaths before letting my hands go gentle in his hair again. “You still want to make Mommy feel good?”
“Yes,” he races out, littering kisses across my panties. “Please?”
“Ya… ya, make… make me feel good, baby.”
Another whimper falls from the man between my legs, his lip hungrily kissing my thighs as he tugs my underwear off. “What do I do?” He asks, eyes scanning my exposition before jumping to my face. “I just… lick at you, right?”
“Kind of, ya. You can move your tongue in and out of me too, or if you can find my clit you can suck and lick at that.”
“And your clit does what?” He asks, bending back down to bury his head in my pussy before his tongue starts sliding between my folds.
“My clit is a bundle of nerves that make me feel really good - and that’s it,” I moan out the second half, clinging to the roots of his hair. “Right… right there, baby.”
The Shinobi’s eyes jump up, locking in my face as his tongue swirls around my clit, running over it again and again. After a couple of licks, he changes direction, sucking on the bundle as his eyes scan my face. “Fucking… lord, baby,” I moan out, my back arching as my climax crawls forward. “Don’t, don’t, don’t change anything, you hear me? Keep doing that?” I order, my breath picking up as the edge moves closer.
He does as told, continuing to suck and swirl his tongue around in the way I’m enjoying. “Fuck. God damn it. Baby,” I whine, shoving his head further into me as the band in my stomach snaps.
Once I settle down from my high, the shinobi pops up from between my legs, eyes sparkling, and face covered in my mess. “Did I do good? I did good, right? Mommy, right?”
“Right,” I mumble, trying to steady my breathing. “Come here,” I call, leading him up my body. “You did so good. You’re such a good boy,” I coo, littering his face in kisses. A smile small crosses his face, eyes soft but still intense as he looks at me. What a weird little sandman.
“What do I do now?” He asks, head decking down to cover my chest in kisses. “Can I do it again, Mommy? Can I go down on you again? Please? Mommy please?”
“Not right now, sunshine. I want you to fuck me, okay?”
“Really?” He asks, his breath airy as he asks the question. “Can I? Can I really?”
“Ya. Let me grab a condom first,” I answer, leaning over to snap open my side table drawer. I dig around the drawer, searching for a rubber. “Um… do you have a condom?” I ask, shifting around the drawer some more.
“No, do you not have one?”
I let out a sigh, snapping the drawer closed. “No, I don’t, I’m sorry. Maybe if you’re in the village tomorrow - ”
“No,” he whines, burying his head in my chest, nuzzling my boobs as he whimpers. “I have to leave tomorrow. Please? It’ll be fine, right? One time won’t do anything.”
“You do know that sex leads to - ”
“I know how kids are made. Come on! Please? Pretty please?”
“Alright, okay. Just… don’t finish in me,” I give in, hands dropping down to work him out of his pants. My cheeks heat up as my fingers slide over his length, the soft virgin boy being bigger than I thought he would be. “Lord,” I mutter, working his pants the rest of the way down. Well, he definitely is a natural ginger.
“What? What’s wrong?” The Shinobi starts to panic, his eyes jumping around my body. “What did I do?”
“Hey, calm down. You work yourself up too much. You’re just… bigger than I thought you were going to be,” I mumble, settling my hands on his waist to shift him around.
“Is that a bad thing?” He asks, the opal of his eyes pooling into my view. The shinobi stumbles a bit, finding his balance above me. His hands settle on the sides of my head, nose pressed against mine as he looks down at me.
“No,” I breathe out, slowly using my hold on him to push his penis into me. “It’s… it’s a good thing, baby. A really good thing.” His chest pumps as he slides into me, his eyes fluttering as he looks down at me. “Okay, okay, um… do you think that you can move yourself in and out?” He nods his head quickly, mouth hung open as he sucks in oxygen. “Use your words, baby.”
“Yes, Mommy. Yes, I can. I can… I can move myself,” he mutters, his hips moving back and forth, tugging his dick in and out of me. “Mommy,” he whines, head barring into my neck.
“Sunshine, move a little faster,” I ask, my nails digging into his waist. “Please, baby.”
“Yes, ya, whatever you want,” he races out, his pace picking up. I’m shifted up the bed because of his thrusts, the tip of his dick bullying its way into me. My nails race across his sides, tearing into his skin as I’m forced up the bed, the promise of scratch marks left behind. “Mommy, mommy, mommy, mommy,” he whines, his thrusts getting sloppy.
“Hey,” I call out, digging my nails into him harder. “You should probably…” a moan cuts off my next order, fingers digging deep enough that I can feel his blood trickling onto my fingertips.
“Damn it,” he whines, burying himself into me, his movements stalling as his hands jump down to cling to my sides. “I’m sorry, I didn’t… I didn’t mean to. I’m so sorry,” the redhead whines, head dipped onto my shoulder as he bottoms out in me. “I’m really sorry,” he whines again, the warmth of his cum filling me up.
                   ————————————
     My heart pounds as I push open the door to the convenience store. It's been a month... or two since I've had my period. I'm sure it's nothing, that the stress of life is just getting to me... but you can never be too sure.
     The sound of my blood rushing rings in my ears as I stroll around the store, eyes flickering around for the aisle I need. It doesn't take long for me to find the family planning aisle, only increasing my heartbeat.
     I feel like I'm going to throw up as I settle in front of the wall of pregnancy tests, quickly scanning over the pink boxes. I grab the cheapest one, figuring it’ll work just as well as the rest.
The sound of the test moving as I walk only makes my nausea worse. I’m sure I’m not pregnant, I’m sure it’s just stress. The test will come out negative. It’s just me crossing all my Ts and dotting all my Is.
“Hello! Did you find everything alright?” The cashier asks, an empty smile on her face.
“Ya, I did,” I mutter, placing the box on the counter.
The cashier’s eyes flicker between the box and me for a second before she scans it. “Would you like a bag?” She asks already placing it into one of the propped-up paper bags. “Your total is twenty-three hundred yen.”
I place the money on the counter, snatching the bag and the recite from the lady before turning on my heels. Panic and blood rush through me as I head toward the store bathroom. It’s going to be negative, this is just a precaution.
The lights of the bathroom are so bright that it almost blinds me, only adding to my stress. It’s just to check, it’s not going to be positive, it’s just to cross it off the possibility list.
I repeat the empty promises to myself as I take the test. My anxiety claws at my chest more and more as I wait for the test to process. How could I be so stupid? How could I let a one-night stand not use a condom? I always make them use one and then a hot sand shinobi shows up and all of a sudden my senses go out the window? What the hell? I can’t be a single mom. I can’t do this alone. But it’s fine because I’m not pregnant.
I shake the stick for a second, slowly opening my eyes to look down at it. “Well, shit.”
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revolversandlace · 1 year
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Moonlight on the Lake
Arthur/f!Reader/Charles
Warnings & Tags: Smut, Swearing, M/M/F, f!Reader, Het Threesome, No Y/N, Enthusiastic Consent, Gentle - as gentle as DP can be, There’s too many specifics to tag - a lot happens, Readers a brat but so am I, Minors DNI
Word Count: 9.2k
Summary: After a night of drinking by the campfire with both Arthur and Charles, you convince the men to take a swim with you. It doesn't take long for the alcohol to take hold and to end up in a situation you never imagined was possible. 
a/n: This is how I die. I think I’ve peaked, because I don’t see it getting much better than this. Also my official headcannon for Charles is that he’s a bit of a dog after a few bevs. Thank you imagination for this very vivid dream. 
AO3 Link
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The last of the campfires' heat crackled and spat and the moonlight kissed the ground in silver. 
It had been a long night and even longer day, but after you and most of the boys from the gang made it back to camp with canvas bags stuffed with cash and jewellery, the drinks began to flow.
You had no idea what time it was, nor did you particularly care. The drinks poured, dances were had and now it was just you Arthur and Charles left around the campfire with a bottle of whiskey sharing stories for your earlier lives.
God knows how much you had to drink at this point, but it was certainly enough to give you the warmth behind your eyes and all the giddiness that it usually did. 
'By the time Hosea managed to drag John back to camp, well…' Arthur slurred slightly, lighting another cigarette, 'the boy was cryin', screamin', snottin'.'
'Sounds like he hasn't changed much,' Charles said with a laugh as you threw a smile over your shoulder to him. 
You were in good spirits, you all were. Hell, Arthur had probably laughed more times in the past few hours than he had since you joined the gang.
'You not sharing now cowboy,' you said with a mischievous grin, as you tapped at the side of Arthur's thigh with your boot.
You were stretched out next to him on the log, balancing on the palms of your hands whilst Charles sat on the ground, throwing his head back in submission to the whiskey.
'Ain't I told ya enough times. Get your own damn smokes,' Arthur said, although not unkindly. No matter how rough his words were, you could see that twinkle in his eye, even in the low light.
'Oh hush, Arthur. You know I only smoke when I'm drunk!' 
He was so quick, you didn't even see it coming as the cigarette smacked you square in the face. You let out a small squeal as your hands flayed, trying to catch the white stick as you nearly lost all your balance entirely. It earnt an earthy chuckle from both of the men as you fumbled with the cigarette. 
'Now that wasn't gentlemanly!' You said through your abating giggles, as you swung your legs to the ground and with a slight stumble, made your way over to the campfire. Using the last of the embers, you held the cigarette on the crackling white ash.
'Take my smokes but too proud to ask for a flame?' Arthur teased as he waved his match, killing the fire and throwing it with a simple flick in your direction. 
'Will you quit it!' You exclaimed, once again taking a jesting kick towards him. 
Even with his hat on as he took the bottle from Charles, you could see that shit eating grin of his. 
He didn't wear it often, but goddamn, whenever he did… it made you feel like every single one of your organs rearranged themselves inside of you. 
'Charles tell him, he's been a pain in my ass all night,' you stood there pouting slightly as you folded your arms looking between the two men.
'I ain't getting involved. I mean, you can handle yourself.' Charles said, pushing the sleeves of his shirt up past his elbow. 
Maybe it was the drink, maybe it was just that you hadn't had a man in weeks, but something dark and urgent stirred within you at the sight of his thick forearms.
Swallowing, you tried to shake your thoughts, snatching the bottle from Arthur and taking a healthy gulp.
'So much for chivalry' you huffed, trying to not look at either of them as you tried to quell the intruding desire. Maybe another swing would do the trick.
'You gonna share that?' Charles said, stretching out his hand, beckoning at it with his fingers.
Dear God, you thought to yourself. You knew he was just after another drink but there was a part of you - and not even a small part at this point - that wanted him to do that gesture to you. 
Clearing your throat, you shoved the whiskey towards him as you tried to amble back to your seat on the log. 
'Thought we were a gang boys, thought we were supposed to share,' you said, a wicked tone creeping into your voice. 
You knew you shouldn't have even started on the whiskey. It did always manage to get you in a certain mood. 
'"These be my smokes you here!"' You said, in an attempt to mock Arthur, dropping your voice as low and as moody as you could. 
Although it earnt a laugh from Charles, to the point where his eyes creased at the side, Arthur didn't look so amused. 
'You're drunk,' he said firmly, taking another thick puff on his cigarette.
'Oh and so are the both of you,' you said, shaking your head side to side, stretching your legs out in front of you as you sat down again.
'Besides!' You exclaimed, grabbing your hat and throwing it into the air as high as you could, and calling a 'yeehaw!'
The hat came crashing back to earth as you all followed it with your eyes and Charles scooted to the side and out of the way as it thumped into the dirt. 
'Yer tryin' to wake the whole camp up woman?' Arthur hissed at you, earning him his eighth eye roll of the evening. A gesture he would get from you more frequently than not.
'Ain't none of them sorry fools waking up. And for God's sake Arthur, I'm in a good mood,' you said, stretching your arms behind you prostrating yourself on the log.
You threw your head back, looking up at the beautifully clear summers night sky. The stars twinkled, burning tiny holes of white light into the navy that cloaked your world.
You felt the ends of your hair tickle the ground ever so slightly and you gave a soft sigh of relief. You weren't just in a good mood. You were in a great mood. The alcohol had certainly worked its magic as an impish feeling took over you.
As you looked back down, you could see the men staring at you, but not in the way they usually did. They were looking at all of you. 
You looked at them each in turn, a smirk toying at the corner lips, threatening to break loose. 
'No one ever tell you it's mighty rude to stare at a lady?' You said, internally refusing to move from your stretched out form. 
In your drunken mind, you supposed you looked like one of those stray alley cats, stretching and rolling around for an easy meal. Not that it was far off what you were trying to do. 
For all the months you had been with the gang, joining just before the Blackwater, it had taken a while to really settle in with them. 
Either from spending time with them on jobs or around camp, it wasn't really until after Colter that you began to notice the little quirks of the two men that would make your stomach flip. 
Whether it was the steely blue gaze of Arthur, or that little scar that nestled just beneath his lip or Charles's impossibly thick eyelashes and knuckles covered in tiny, pale scars - you still hadn't decided which of the two was more attractive. 
In that brief moment of silence -an intense silence - you had already decided that you'd be waking up next to one of them.
'I don't even know why they put the damn campfire on,' Arthur said, breaking the void as you tried to hide your grin in your chest. 'It's July for Christ sake!' 
'Well you know…' you said with a small shrug, 'it's pretty. Don't need much of an excuse if somethings pretty.'
You shot Arthur a look, taking the whiskey from the ground and taking another large gulp. Considering the three of you were drinking it, not much had really seemed to go, although it was your third shared bottle of the evening. 
Probably for the best, considering your head was spinning - and not just from the liquor. A pure drunk lust coursed through you, enough to even start that familiar throb between your legs. 
You narrowed your eyes at the men, a terrible, terrible idea forming in your head as you chewed at the inside of your mouth. 
'Well, if you're so warm. Come for a dip, it's a beautiful night for a swim!' you said, slapping your palms on your knees as you stood, 'coming Charles?' 
You widened your eyes in a doleful plea, your lips parted ever so slightly.
'Hell, I'm game,' he said, pushing himself off the ground.
With a satisfied nod, you turned to Arthur, taking the bottle from him. 
'Come on, Arthur!' You said, almost stamping your feet impetuosity.
'I ain't goin' for no swim,' Arthur said, attempting to pull the bottle back from your grip.
You stumbled forward a few paces, enough to nearly crash into Arthur entirely. 
Your stomach turned with excitement, as your heart gave a thump in your chest. You were nervous, excited and God you were turned on. There was no way you were giving up now. 
'Come on, Arthur! It'll be fun!' You said, using the exact same spoilt expression you just gave to Charles. 
Arthur shook his head, but there was stubborn and then there was you. 
You grabbed his hand, tugging at him as he begrudgingly stood up with a slight sway, giving a heavy sigh.
'Besides, the whiskey is coming with us,' you said in a whisper with a sickly giggle. 
'Sure. Why not,' Arthur said, defeated as you gave a little prance and spun on the tips of your toes. 
You almost skipped off, making your way through the tents with a spring in step as you stole another swig. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the men muttering behind you with the expected drunken gestures.  Whatever they were talking about, Arthur seemed to have retreated back to his tightly wound self. 
You smiled at the thought of giving him an excuse to loosen up a bit. 
As you reached the edge of the lake, your lips were beginning to tingle from the whiskey, its heat burning into your bones as you bumbled slightly, placing the bottle on the sandy floor. 
You held your arm out to the side in a weak attempt to keep your balance as you reach for the heel of your boot, pulling it off followed by the other one. Next came your suspenders and belt, and then you took to your blouse, undoing the buttons one by one. 
You faced out to the water, the gentle ripples flowing gently across the horizon and it seemed the entire world, aside from the three of you, was asleep. 
With a happy sigh, you removed your shirt as the warm summers air brushed across your nipples. For the first time in a long time, you felt free. 
You moved to your jeans, unbuttoning them and pulling them and your riding drawers to your ankles as you stood out of them.  You didn't look behind you, but you heard the men approaching, their uneven tread breaking their way across the leaves and sticks. 
You didn't care if they saw you, hell, you wanted them to see you. Like they were sneaking a look that they both knew neither of them should see. You chewed at your thumb coyly and you made your way into the cool water, utterly brazen in your actions. 
The water reached over your breasts, your feet trod lightly on the lake floor as you pushed your arms through the water and kicked your legs slowly behind you.
'Don't go swimming off now!' You heard Charles call from behind you. 
'You should be so lucky!' You shot back, closing your eyes and bobbing in the water as it enveloped the entirety of your body, licking every inch of your skin. 
You thought there would be a chance that the cool water would somehow calm you down, perhaps even sober you a little. But it did nothing of the sort. If anything, the thought of being utterly naked a mere few feet away from Charles and Arthur just fed the exhilaration. 
'Don't forget the whiskey!' You called, looking up at the full moon that hung over your head. It almost seemed close enough to touch, its craters dark across its white glow. 
Eventually you heard the splashes of the men entered the water and you turned yourself around, slowly making your way towards them as your fingertips pushed across the water's surface. 
'I see you both made it,' you smiled at the both of them as they passed the bottle between them and to you. 
'Can't say liquor and swimmin' is usually the best idea,' Arthur said, as you raised your eyebrow to Charles. 
'Oh, Arthur,' you said, shaking your head as you sank into the water, the coolness covering you up to your eyes as you took a mouthful of water. 
Re-emerging, you saw the look in Arthur's eyes - he knew exactly what you were going to do. Just as he raised his finger in no doubt some warning you pursed your lips and shot a stream of water in his direction. 
'For once, Arthur,' you said in a sing-song voice, 'just relax.' 
He sighed at you as you took the whiskey from Charles. You made your way over to Arthur, close enough that you could see the freckles that dotted across his thick, hard shoulders. The twitch of his muscles as he passed his arms through the water. 
'Here,' you said, holding out the bottle as he reached out for it.  However before he could take it from you, you pulled it back, much to his annoyance. 
'Only if you promise to have some fun!' You said with a grin. 
He dipped his head under the water, breaking the surface in the following second as he brushed back his wet hair and wiped the rest of the water from his face. 
God he truly was a sight, it almost caught all words in your throat and before you knew it he had swam close enough to you to snatch the bottle back from you. 
'Fine. S'long as you behave,' he narrowed his eyes at you, almost dangerously. 
No amount of prayers would be enough to save your soul from the look that he gave you, and in turn, the feeling that stirred throughout your entire body. 
'I promise no such thing Mr Morgan,' you said weakley, almost sheepishly as you pushed yourself away, creating a more sensible distance between you. 
'I dunno,' Charles said, a boyish grin playing on his lips, 'I think she's earned it Arthur. She did take out five Pinkertons by herself on the train.' 
You gave Charles a bashful look, not quite used to the praise as it made you even more light headed. 
'Oh well in that case,' Arthur said as he passed the bottle back to Charles. 
For the second time this evening, Arthur managed to make you scream as he smacked the surface of the water at you, covering your entire head in the lake's water. 
'Fuck Arthur!' You cried and both men laughed at you again, as you tried to wipe the liquid from your eyes. 'I was trying to keep my hair dry!'
'Don't seem much good if you're goin' swimmin',' he chuckled. 
You wanted to be mad at him but in reality you just couldn't as you too started laughing. 
'How much whiskey we got left?' You asked Charles as your legs started to grow weary from treading water and after the day's events. 
''Bout half,' he said, raising the bottle giving it a slight shake. 'You want some?' 
'Well, obviously' you said as he kept it up high, 'of for God sake' you muttered. Teasing was one thing, but withholding alcohol was just plain rude. 
You made your way through the water with an attempt to grab the bottle but instead he turned to take a swig and held it out to Arthur. 
'Oh very funny,' you said, 'goddamn cowboys.'
You made your way over to Arthur who you knew would do the exact same and he did not fail to disappoint. The men both stood over you, their torsos glistening with drops of water like tiny crystals and they smirked and drank all the while teasing you. 
'You know full well I can't stand up this close to shore,' you huffed. The water still covering everything from the chest down. 
'Oh, so now you're shy?' Charles said, taking the bottle from Arthur over your head. 
You couldn't say that even if you were sober, you wouldn’t have risen to the challenge but if there's one thing you knew about men, was never to back down. 
'I said, pass it here,' you said, your voice tight as you tried your best to snatch it back. But Charles was too quick, pulling it just out of reach as you stumbled forward. 
Thinking was never your strong suit as you leapt forward, nearly crashing your entire and very naked body into Charles. But for a man who was built like a bison, he could certainly move quickly. You stretched out your arms again, clawing for the bottle. 
You became almost single minded, as Charles turned slowly in the water, taunting you like you were a mouse with a cube of cheese on a string. 
As you tried another feeble drunken attempt, you felt his arm around your waist, holding you with those thick forearms. He pressed into you, his cool skin touching yours. It's a good thing he was holding you otherwise you were sure you would have drowned at the touch. 
You looked up at him, your heart beating so fast it could have caused ripples in the water. But you wanted that damn whiskey, as much as you wanted him. 
His dark brown eyes fell on yours as you threw your arm around his neck, stepping up to his lips as he pulled you closer into him.
His chilled lips touched yours, a passionate, deep kiss that tasted of the earth. He licked his tongue across yours, just for a second as he stepped between your legs, his cock pressing into the place that needed the most release. 
You gave a slight whimper, but with your other hand you pulled the bottle from him and stepped out of his grip. He looked stunned for a second, but only a second as a wide grin spread across his face. 
You chewed your lip at him as you returned a beaming smile drinking greedily at the whiskey. You turned around to see Arthur, a lot closer than he was before, his eyes the colour of the ocean narrowed at you. 
'What?’ You said, placing the bottle back to your lips with a wicked smirk, taking another gulp.
You moved closer to him, an inch away from his chest as you felt yours heaving with adrenaline. 
'Didn't think I'd leave you out, did you cowboy?' You handed the bottle to him, placing it on his chest as he gripped your wrist and then took the bottle from your hand. He took several large drinks from it, nearly finishing the entire thing.
'Think the rest is your Charles,' he said, passing it to his friend, not taking his eyes off of you for a single second.
There was something in his look that almost made you recoil in fear. Almost. As he kept a grip on your wrist you took another step closer, your breast pushing up against him as you parted your lips and looked up at him in a silent plea. 
He dropped his hold on you , his hand snaking to the back of your neck as he pulled you into a kiss. It was hungrier than Charles, desperate and ravenous, his stubble prickling against your cheek as he grabbed a handful of your ass, roughly pulling you up against him.
You gasped into his mouth, almost becoming undone there and then. He had none of the patience of Charles, but all the ferocity that he lacked. 
And then the fingers traced down your back as Charles stopped at your waist, delicately tracing both his hands up each side as his broad chest hovered over you, encasing you in the two men with lust and want and all those things you didn’t dare entertain in your mind. Yet there you were, helpless in the water being kissed, caressed with so many secret promises of pleasure. 
Arthur removed his lips from yours, his grip still firm on the back of your neck, your hair wet dripping across your shoulders as you felt both the men against you. 
‘Yer sure you want this darlin?’ He said, almost whispering in your ear. 
You nodded pathetically, your eyes half closed with near swollen lips from the kissing.
‘If you want to stop,’ Charles said, his hands snaking across your front, cupping at your breasts and gently pulling you back towards him, ‘just say, beautiful.’ 
You looked across your shoulder up at him, his dark eyes soft and welcoming. 
‘Okay,’ you said breathlessly as Arthur moved his hand and his finger under your chin as he lifted your face to his. 
Charles leant down and started to kiss your neck, delicate kisses, kisses of a long lost lover as Arthur stared at you, watching you. His face was only a hair width away from yours as he didn’t even bat an eyelid. Just watching you, your eyes, your mouth as you panted whilst Charles continued to leave a trail of even more wet down the side of your neck and across your shoulders and he softly kneaded as your breasts, almost massaging them as his thumb would flick across your nipple. 
They held you there, working at your pleasure but it wasn’t enough. You weren’t sure if what either of them could give you would be enough. But there in the water, the two of them made all of shit outside of camp make sense. It made the whole damn world slot into place as your whole spine turned soft.
You mewled lightly, trying your best to keep your eyes open, to remain with Arthur in that moment but as the tingles ran up and down you from Charles lips, you closed your eyes, licking at you lips as your hand found the way around the back of his neck, your hips slowly beginning to grind in need.
Charles stepped closer to the back of you, his full hard cock pressing up against your ass, matching your motions. Slow, deliberate and teasing. 
Working his way up to the base of your ear, he continued to work his lips on you, thick and wet with the occasional brush of his tongue. The moan you made sounded so foreign to your ears, almost distant as you felt yourself slowly becoming one with the darkness, with the water… With them. 
Arthur moved his thumb from your chin, wiping it across your parted bottom lips, removing the water left on there from the lake, his rough skin smoothing across the soft texture. You mewled again, willing yourself to open your eyes, to his lustful hooded look as you continued to leisurely grid your ass against Charles’ cock. 
You opened your mouth by the smallest amount, your tongue pushing out to meet with Arthurs thumb as you wrapped your lips around it, and moved up and down it as measured as you could. 
The change in his eye was subtle, but unmistakable as Charles remained utterly lost on your skin, soft growls emitting every now and then. His breath against your wet skin sent shivers down every limb.
You continued to slowly suck at Arthur’s thumb, his eyes almost tensing in a way you’d never seen any many do before as he refused to lower his gaze. Bringing your hand up, you grabbed at his, his strong knuckles and wide palms making your own hands feel so delicate and feeble. 
You pulled his hand away, his thumb giving a slow pop  as it left your mouth. His eyebrows furrowed for just a second as his jaw tensed in silence, making his square jaw even more prominent. 
Even breathing seemed like a struggle with the sensations that were going on, but you were wet, aching and wanting. He let you guide him, as you put his hand into the water, taking his fingers and putting them exactly where you needed. 
Never before had you felt so alive. So desperate and so content with asking for exactly what you craved. Even in your entombed desire, you knew you could trust them, that they would live and die for you. And in that moment you wanted both. 
As soon as Arthurs fingers connected with your clit, you moaned, almost losing balance. He had barely even moved, just pressing into the bud of nerves as all breath had left your lungs. 
For a fleeting moment you all stopped, just still in a perfect statue of yearning. Charles stopped moving up against you, his lips softly peeled away from you, the feeling leaving you near empty. But then Arthur began to move his fingers. Sickening slowly he circled at your clit, the pleasure seeping and invading in equal measures. 
Letting out a long moan, the men gave a breathy laugh as Charles continued to pass his thumb sparingly over your nipples. 
‘Still enjoying yourself, darlin’?’ Arthur said, his voice low and sweet. 
‘God yes,’ was about all you could muster, as you could feel Charles smile into the crook on your neck. 
You continued to cling onto him behind you as those sweet, sweet circles that Arthur continued to make on you nearly made you drop into the water. But then something changed. Arthur moved his fingers down, across the slick of your heat. You didn’t need the water to tell you how wet you were. 
With your free arm you grabbed onto his solid shoulder whilst your other still clung around Charles’ neck. Arthur however, continued to stroke you up to the most delicate part down to your entrance, teasing you as he had done all night. 
But then, after one last final press on your clit, his fingers made their way back down tentatively placing two of them inside you. At first you panted hard but as he pushed them further into you and curved them deep inside, a long moan burst free from you. He held them as deep as he could for a moment and you could feel yourself stretching around him in the most wonderful of ways. 
And then he moved them back out, but not all the way. Just enough for you to stop seeing sparkles in your eyes as he pushed them back into you, right to the knuckle as he earned another whimper from you as your mouth formed a perfect ‘o’. 
Charles moved his hand from your breasts, down to the side of your hips, digging his fingers oh so silkenly into your soft flesh as you slowly bucked your hips onto Arthur’s fingers. 
‘Let go for a second,’ Charles whispered into your ear as he slowly peeled your arm from his neck by the elbow steering it towards Arthur’s shoulders, ‘we got you, okay?’ 
You couldn’t even nod, let alone speak as you just let another guttural sound escape you. Arthur continued to move his fingers in and out of you, the water gently stirring around you with the movements. 
Charles dragged his hands across the front of your hips, just where your hips bone lay and back again across the curve of your ass, palming a handful and giving you a light squeeze. 
‘You ready?’ He whispered into the nape of your neck through your wet hair. 
No. No you weren’t ready. But you were happy to comply. To agree to anything that would give you the release you so desperately needed. 
‘Y…Yes,’ you said, managing to find some sort of voice, although it was a voice so unlike your own. 
His hands travelled further down, to the back of your thighs, grabbing them with the most force he had touched you with tonight as he held you legs up, spread and open. You imagined that the water may have helped, not that it mattered, and you certainly didn’t care as Charles held the underneath of you almost floating as Arthur continued to pump in and out of you. 
You felt Charles' knee underneath the back of your thigh, just enough to hold you in place as your feet dangled and Arthur nestled his strong fingers into the very back of your cunt. 
Digging into his shoulders, you became utterly unable to hold yourself but thankfully, you were in good hands. 
You could feel Charles’ cock pressing against you again, burrowing it between your cheeks as your head fell onto his shoulder. 
Time could have passed a hundred years or more and you would have stayed there. In some fleeting vision, you were sure that’s exactly what had happened as Charles held you there, holding your legs open whilst Arthur did the most gratifying things to your cunt. 
‘Can’t have you come just yet, sweetheart,’ Arthur mused. 
There was some sound, some moan, something that fell from your lips and with every movement you tightened around him, twitching at his knuckles, the coil building and tightening. If he hit just the right spot you would be left screaming and splashing in the water. 
‘Let’s get you in the warm, darlin’,’ Arthur said, as you tried to shake your head. 
No, not yet. But you were beyond the ability to form the words. 
Charles slowly led your legs back down as Arthur removed his fingers. You whined at the utter torture of it all. Unsure of who even still held your weight in the water and your pried your eyes open. 
‘You want to carry on?’ Charles said, planting a kiss on your shoulder as you tried to force the blood back to your head to think straight. 
‘Please,’ you said, or at least think you did. Either way, you saw them smile as you, both of them. For Godless men they certainly did look like something out of the ancient books. But given all that you felt, you wouldn’t be surprised if they were some sort of deities. 
‘C’mon,’ Arthur said, gesturing his head towards the shore as you commanded your legs to move. 
Somehow they did, and by whatever miracle that was, you weren’t sure. Before you knew it you were on land again, pathetically picking up your shirt and throwing your arms through the sleeves and grabbing the rest of your clothing. The simple idea of trying to coordinate yourself back into your jeans was far beyond you. 
There was a part of you that felt this was a dream. Unsure whether it was the alcohol, all the excitement of the day or whatever had just happened in the water was to blame, but you stumbled behind - your gait uneven as your damp toes curled into the grass. 
‘Arthur,’ Charles whispered, his trousers half done up as they hung off his impossibly thick abdomen, ‘take her back to your tent, just grabbing something.’ 
Arthur gave a curt nod, as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder, herding you back to his tent like some orphaned and weak puppy. 
‘Here,’ he gestured to his cot as he closed the flap behind him. He too only had his jeans on loosely, as he turned up the gaslamp to a low heat, the orange flame dancing and licking across the canvas walls. 
Just as you were beginning to think straight again, Arthur put a heavy weight around you, something warm. Something dry. You didn’t realise how cold you had gotten out in the water, but the warmth was welcome. Thank God it was the middle of summer. 
Charles pushed through the tent entrance, his enormous build took up what little room was left in there between you and Arthur. However, it didn’t escape your notice that in his hand was another bottle of whiskey. 
He uncorked it with his teeth, giving you a wink as Arthur knelt on the cot next to you, taking the bottle. 
‘This will certainly help,’ Arthur said, his voice a low drawl as you heard each thick gulp.
‘I mean, we should get you warmed up,’ Charles said to you, crouching before you in the low light. He placed his hands on your knees, still wet and cold from the lake as he slowly pushed them apart and he crawled between them. 
Arthur meanwhile held the whiskey to your lips, pouring in a small amount as you tried your best to not spill it down your chin. Leaning over, he placed the bottle on the floor, tentatively removing the blanket from your shoulders, followed by the damp shirt that clung to your skin. 
As you sat there on the edge of the cot, completely naked and legs spread, you gave a small nod, silently signalling to the men that you were ready to continue from where you left off in the lake. 
Charles kissed the inside of your knee, then the other. Soft little kisses just as he had done before, except now with an unwavering look at you as he stared up at you from the floor. He continued to work up your leg, taking each one in turn as he pressed his teeth into your inner thigh, you gave a whine as you pushed your hips forward closer to him. You were desperate for his mouth to be just where you needed it the most. 
Arthur knelt above you, his thick calloused hand gripping at your cheek, stroking your soft skin with his thumb. 
‘We’ll take good care of you, darlin’,’ he said in his usual gravelly tone. His thumb moved down your cheek and onto your neck tenderly, more tender than a man like him had any right too as a shiver visibly ran over you. 
Your fingers curled gripping tightly in the bedding as your back arched and your head fell back, exposing the column of your neck, allowing Arthur to brush at the fragile bones. 
Then you felt it, the warm velvet flat of Charles’ tongue on your clit, your whole body straining at the touch and your vision blurred behind your eyes. 
‘Oh fuck,’ you managed to keen breathlessly, as Arthur chuckled beside you. 
Charles began swirling his tongue, lightly at first but then became firmer, more confident in the pleasure he was giving you. You can feel your chest rising and falling with each heavy breath as you let out another stifled whimper, your hips moving with each of Charles’ movements as his hands lay flat on your hips in an attempt to keep you still. 
‘Think yer can stay quiet for us, be a good girl?’ You heard Arthur say next to you. 
In all honesty, you don’t think you could. Your mind was awash with everything that had happened that evening, what was happening now and couldn’t even comprehend what would follow. 
You shook your head as you involuntarily grew louder as Charles brought you up higher and higher, the pressure building as your whole body was ablaze. 
‘Was hopin’ yer’d say that,’ Arthur said with a grin, removing his hand from the side of your neck as he reached for his jeans, darkened unevenly by the water. 
His hair had mostly dried but you could still see the odd drop that clung to his skin like morning dew in the spring across the coarse hair that coated his chest and just where his jeans sat. 
Not that they stayed there long, as he pulled them down to his knees, his thick cock springing free as he grasped it, giving it a few sensual strokes. 
He didn’t even need to ask as you grabbed at the back of his thigh, your mouth falling open ready to take as much as you could. Which given what you saw, you wouldn’t be able to take all that much. But God you wanted to try. 
You could already taste the pre-cum as you took him in your mouth, trying to concentrate on doing a good job, but Charles certainly wasn’t making it easy. You wrapped your tongue around Arthur’s tip and you slowly began to move your head up and down as much of the shaft as you could. 
Arthur gave a groan, a sound that would haunt you until your last breath. You could see him straining to keep his hips where they were, to let you do the work with as little or as much as you were comfortable with. 
But as soon as you felt Charles slowly put a finger into your sopping wet cunt, his tongue making a meal out of your clit, you made an animalist cry as you hollowed out your cheeks onto Arthurs cock. And the air around you changed. 
It was as though all three of you suddenly changed under the moon, like those beasts from tales and you all became driven by one primal need. 
You lifted your legs higher, placing your heels on the edge of the cot, as Arthur cupped at the side of your face, although a little rougher than he probably intended. Not that you minded as his cock filled your throat to the point where you tried your best to breathe from your nose. Your mouth was just as wet and as messy as your cunt. 
Charles soon picked up the pace, putting not just two but three fingers inside of you as he drove harder and deeper, his mouth keeping pace as you gripped the top of his hair, the silken locks falling through your fingers. 
You were close, so goddamn close as your scalp grew tight, your stomach and cunt tensing as the coil built up in your spine, all your blood pumping to one place and one place only. 
It hit you sooner than expected. Your whole body turning numb for just a second as the pleasure soon crashed over you, a wave so life threatening you lost all senses. You couldn’t see nor hear, only feel that sweet release as you sobbed onto Arthur’s cock, saliva and pre-cum falling from the edge of your lips as neither man wavered their pace on you. 
After your last spasm, you fell from the clouds. Arthur pulled himself from you with a smile, as did Charles, his lips and chin glistening from your slick. 
‘You good?’ He said, planting one last kiss on your inner thigh, as you nodded, wiping your mouth with the back of your wrists. 
He moved to the other side of you, his frame towering over you even sitting down. 
‘Can you carry on, princess?’ Charles said, stroking your arm with his knuckles as you waited for all good sense to return. 
‘Mmhm,’ you sounded, your vision coming back to you as your legs trembled and shook. ‘Please.’
Arthur leant over, grabbing the whiskey from the floor, keeping up with the night's ceremony of passing it between him and Charles for a moment whilst you regained your composure. What little was left of it anyway. 
You moved yourself, turning to face Arthur, his cock in your eyeline as you put your back against Charles, your body already screaming at you that one orgasm wasn’t going to be enough for you tonight. 
Charles wrapped his arm around the front of your shoulders, the bottle in hand as he placed it to your lips. You took the amber liquid greedily, the burning melding with the prickling that still danced on your skin. 
He pulled it away, careful enough that you didn’t knock your teeth on it as he tilted it again towards you. But this time, instead of your mouth, he poured it all down your front, the alcohol trickling down your breasts and over your nipples as Arthur gave a wolfish grin. 
You barely had time to acknowledge what was happening as Arthur knelt over to you, licking at the whiskey that covered your skin. He kissed at your breasts, taking them with his hands, grabbing, kissing and licking at your pliable flesh and the liquor. 
Finding your nipple, he took it into his mouth, biting down on it carefully, as your body jolted already at the point of over stimulation as he sucked and licked at you. 
‘Lift your hips up, beautiful. Just a bit,’ Charles whispers in your ear, and you did so obligingly pushing yourself up with your knee. 
You felt his hand underneath you, searching for your cunt all over again, as your eyes screwed shut, waiting for the inevidentable. He played with the coated cunt, just as he had done before, nestling his fingers in your puffy warmth and guided your hips back down. 
Tomorrow seemed so far away, and yet impossible at the same time as you could have stayed in the moment for all eternity. A never ending life of torturous teasing and orgasm after orgasm and the men played with you, pleasuring you in ways you couldn’t even do to yourself. 
You held onto Arthur's shoulders, as he continued to nip and suck at your nipples, the whiskey almost steaming off of your body as you rocked yourself up and down on Charles’ fingers. 
Far past the point of making any noise, you ground your hips into the man behind you as he wickedly used your own weight to push deeper into you as his other hand found the small of your back, pushing down on it so he was as deep as could possibly be. 
Arthur broke his lips free from you, looking up at you with those piercing blue eyes that held so much danger and hunger. He watched you as your face contoured, how you moaned in front of him and all the gratification you were receiving. 
‘Come here,’ he whispered at you, as sat back on the bed, the pillow propping his head ever so slightly as you bent over, allowing Charles to continue whatever magic his hands possessed. 
You grabbed Arthur’s cock, it was so hard you thought it might burst and the thought of it inside of you just made you moan harder as Charles found the perfect spot, right at the back of you causing you to whine and whimper all over again. 
You stroked at Arthur playfully as he closed his eyes, his head stretched back. Both of them had been so good to you, not just with what they had done to your body but how tentative they had been. Never had you thought that this is what it would be like. 
You took Arthur’s cock into your mouth again, finding it easier in your new position as you forced it all the way down your throat until your nose met with the base. He let out a growl so predatory, you thought he would lose all control there and then. But he didn’t.
Instead you continued to work at it, just as you had before as Charles seemingly pushed you from the inside, further onto Arthur. 
Perhaps, if it wasn’t for all the alcohol, you would have been untethered all of again, and you suspected so would have the men. However it bought you some time, just enough so the memory would stay with you all forever. 
‘Do you need something more?’ Charles said behind you, as you tried your best to nod with a mouthful of cock, prostrating your ass higher in the air, as Charles shifted behind you, his hands gripped around your ass cheeks. 
You felt the tip of his cock at your entrance, sliding up and down as you gave a stifled moan, feeling every single throat muscle move against Arthur’s twitching cock. And then Charles found himself inside of you, stretching you open as he slid carefully all the way inside of your cunt. 
You were stuff from every end and have never felt better as you began to work harder or Arthur, his abdomen visibly tensing as Charles painstakingly pulled himself from you and right back in again. 
Never had you ever felt anything like it before, as your body moved between them, a perfect momentum between all three of you as Charles started to force himself into you harder. For as much as you wanted to show Arthur all the pleasures you had felt, the moaning and movement made it all the more harder to use your tongue against him. But as you moved your head up and down, Arthur returned his hand to the side of your face, caressingly it softly as you continued to suck and slurp with all your might. 
‘She feels good Arthur,’ Charles said in a tight voice, the sounds of your love making, slowly beginning to fill the tent. His hands dug harder onto your hips, the feeling of ecstasy soon returned to your body as Charles fucked you from behind. 
You slowly moved your lips up Arthur’s cock again, as tight and as firm as you possibly could, as he fell from your mouth as you took a breath, trying your best to not see stars again. But you 
knew that was impossible. 
‘Yer look mighty pretty like this,’ Arthur said with a smile, his chest moving, falling with yours as you grabbed onto Charles’ hand. 
‘One… one second,’ you mumbled, as Charles stopped instantly, pulling himself from you.
‘You hurt?’ He said, the concern as plain as day in his voice as Arthur too, furrowed his eyebrows at you in worry. 
‘No, it's not that… it’s…’ you smiled. Utterly abashed with yourself. You knew what you wanted, what your body craved. But to say it? ‘I want both of you,’ you said, almost hiding behind your hair as the words fell from your lips. 
‘Yer sure?’ Arthur said, moving himself up onto his elbows slightly.
You nodded, with a soft smile. 
‘Please,’ you said, looking between the two men. 
They shared a look and for a moment, you thought they would disagree with you but they both gave you a look of affirmation. 
‘You can have whatever you want, princess’ Charles said behind you, planting a kiss on your lower back. 
You certainly didn’t need to be told twice, as Arthur grabbed for your hand, helping you up the bed as you straddled over him. 
‘Let’s see how good yer feel then, shall we?’ He said, as you smirked down at him, placing your hands either side of his head. 
He reached down between you and with how wet you were, he barely needed any time as he cock slipped straight into you. As you sat on his cock, you pushed your body flush against his as he wrapped his arms around you. 
‘You just tell us if you need us to stop,’ Charles said, his large hand stroking over your ass and hips. 
You started to ride Arthur, his cock hit just all the right spots as your clit was already starting to grow warm and tense again. He lifted his hips up into yours as you ground down, your hips snaking up and down as you could feel him gripping his arms tighter around you.
‘Shit woman, you feel incredible.’ He moaned as Charles gave him an ‘I told you so,’ from behind you. 
You heard Charles spit, his hand finding his way to your tight hole as he moved the spit across your asshole whilst Arthur still fed your cunt with his cock. You began to slow down, more purposeful and exaggerated in your movements as you looked over your shoulder to Charles to give him a nod to tell him it was okay. 
He smiled sweetly at you, even if his eyes had grown black in the low light, like a shark ready to feed. Your nails raked at Arthur's chest, who held tighter onto your hips, your flesh as soft as moss beneath his fingertips. 
You felt Charles adjusting himself on the cot, then you, ensuring he got just the right angle. You felt the warmth of his tip on you, smooth and slick from where it had been inside of you previously, as he teased at the entrance prodding it slightly, careful to not take you there too quickly. 
‘Please,’ you begged again, as a goddamn fell from Arthurs mouth. 
Charles didn’t waste any time as he pushed himself into you, the intrusive stretch filling you up as you gave a throaty cry. He stopped for a moment, just as you supposed he would, letting your asshole settle around him, twitching and clenching. 
You all moved painfully slowly, every ridge and vein catching inside of you and Charles slowly pushed his cock further into you, until he finally bottomed out inside of you. All three of you let out a deep moan, as both men were fully hilted in you, touching the centre of your core. 
They held still, as you started to move your hips again, trying to find the movement, the perfect way to move yourself on their cocks. Arthur dug his hands deeper, his face screwed so tightly you almost laughed as Charles put his hand onto the small of your back again and delicately started to move in and out of you. 
You could barely even remember your own name, waves of pleasure washing over you with every single tiny movement as you all began to find your momentum with the new intense pleasure. 
They both slid in and out of you, their gentle movements giving you everything you needed, and before you knew it, you were ready to cum all over again. 
Sandwiched between the two men, their warm bodies and strong torsoses sheathed you just as much as you sheathed their cocks as all three of you moved as one with one aim in sight. 
You picked up the pace, revelling in the sensation of how utterly filled you were, as the men took your lead and too began to speed up. Arthur’s fingers dug further into you as he bounced you on his cock and Charles continued to fuck you ass. 
‘Shit,’ Arthur grunted, and then you felt it. The thick ropes of cum filling you up as you struggled to keep yourself still enough to ward off your own climax. 
Arthur continued to fuck himself into you and your legs gave way under Charles and before you knew it, you were screaming into the air, a mess of cum, sweat and unbridled ecstasy. 
Charles didn’t last much longer either as you twitched as sobbed, he filled up your ass with a moan and it was as though the whole world turned black. 
You stirred the next morning, the sun breaking through the canvas of the tent as the humidity hung around you. A soft thump began at the side of your head as your stomach gave a turn. But for how hungover you were, you were warm and so very comfortable. 
Taking in a long breath, you tried to stretch but couldn’t quite find the room as you slowly opened your eyes. The smell of whiskey and musk hitting your nostrils. 
‘Shit!’ You cried, springing up, clutching the blanket to your bare breast as you saw Arthur and Charles either side of you. The memories of last night came back to you in an uncoordinated flash as you brushed your hair back from your face. 
‘Morning,’ Charles said, as you looked back behind you to him. 
‘What time is it?’ you croaked, your voice hoarse from a night of smoking, drinking and well… everything else. 
‘Not too late,’ Charles said, smiling, running his hand up and down your back. 
You groaned, pulling your knees up to your chest as Arthur gave a small snore. 
‘We need to get up before everyone else wakes up,’ you said, resting your forehead against your knee. 
‘Good luck with Arthur,’ he said, as Arthur’s mouth hung slightly open, his face the most soft and calm as you’ve ever seen him. 
You tried to not think about last night, about them, about them inside of you. But you couldn’t help a small giggle slipping from your lips. 
‘Thank you for last night,’ you said with a smile that felt as though it reached from ear to ear. 
Charles sat up onto his elbow, placing a soft kiss on your bare back. 
‘Anytime. Come on then,’ he said, reaching over and giving Arthur a smack on the arm. 
He jumped awake, his eyes feverish before settling. 
‘We need to get up,’ you said as he gave a sleepy nod, sitting up and throwing his legs on the side of the bed. 
Charles clambered over you, reaching for his jeans as the men started to get dressed. 
‘You alright?’ Arthur grumbled, shoving his legs into his jean legs before jumping into them. 
‘I could do with a coffee,’ you mused as Charles finished buttoning his shirt as he tied his hair back from his face. 
Charles threw your blouse at you, as you turned the still damp fabric the right way round, the blacket dropping to your lap as you fiddled with the sleeves. 
‘Arthur!’ A voice called from outside of the tent, as all three of your eyes went wide.
‘Arthur are you still…’ The tent flap was pulled back as you screamed and threw the blanket over your head.  Not that it would have concealed you in any capacity. 
‘Ah, Arthur,’ Hosea said, as you scrunched your eyes as tight as possible, wishing the earth would swallow you whole. A silence settled around you as you in hid in your not so subtle cocoon. 
‘What is it Hosea?’ Arthur said, his voice tight. 
‘I… er… Dutch would like to see you,’ he said, the air turning beyond awkward. ‘I’ll see you when you’re decent.’ 
‘And… Miss,’ Hosea called, the humour evident in his voice, ‘Ms Grimshaw would like some help with a few bits.’
‘Okay,’ you said weakley, on the verge of tears and utterly mortified that Hosea, of all people, had caught you. 
After you heard his footfalls retreat, you slowly removed the blanket from your head, your cheeks burning so much that you felt you were being branded. 
‘S’pose that cat’s out the bag then,’ Charles said with a smirk as Arthur just shook his head whilst lighting a smoke. 
After you finished getting dressed, you left Arthur’s tent very sheepishly, your head still basically in your hands as you made your way across camp towards the rest of the woman. 
‘Hosea said you need my help?’ you said, searching the faces to see if there was any sign that your secret had spread around camp. Thankfully, no one gave you any knowing looks as Karen silently dropped a bucket of laundry at your feet. 
Picking it up, you began to make your way over to the lake, your stomach giving a flip of excitement as you remember what happened the last time you were there. 
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asexualasshat · 2 months
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Y’all remember the tiktok trend where grown ups realized that they’d forgotten how to skip. Headcannon that one, a few years after Derry part 2, Richie is being a silly sappy little fellow. Starts skipping while he and Eddie are a park or whatever. He grabs Eddie’s hand to bring him along for the ride. And Eddie??? Understands the hypothetical concept of skipping. And yet his feet? Doing a sort of botched gallop.
And Richie LOSES IT! Starts roasting him. And Eddie is freaking tf out. He’s yelling but also still trying to figure skipping out. You can’t really tell if he’s yelling more at Richie or at himself. And he’s still galloping away. Richie is on the ground, holding his face in his hands to muffle his laughter.
Eventually, Richie gets up and he starts coaching Eddie. Twenty minutes later, they’re hand in hand, skipping down the path.
Richie didn’t have a choice but to tell the losers everything. And the groupchat?? LOSES IT! At first? Just roasts tf out of Eddie at first. Ben comes to his defence pretty quickly. And then asks “when was the last time you guys skipped? Are you sure you remember?”
And the accusations fly right back at Ben. Asking him if he can skip. And Ben??? In his office wearing his fancy designer work clothes???? Takes a video of himself skipping. And he sure can skip! When he’s done showing off he comes close to the camera and says “we just had a daughter. I’ve prepared.”
And again, they’re going wild. Within minutes, videos start pouring in. Bev is first, obviously immediately ready to support her husband. She’s a dazzling skipper. She’d win first prize in a skipping competition. The technique is impeccable.
Stan is next. He gets Patty into it as well, to know one’s surprise. Neither is perfect. Patty’s footwork isn’t perfect but she has pizazz. Stan is pure technique, to the point that it’s awkwardly stiff. But the pair are smiling and skipping so it doesn’t even matter. Their own daughter just toddles around in the background. Kind of embarrassing for her, but she doesn’t know what embarrassment is yet.
Mike is out in a field, phone probably propped up on his water bottle or a log. He’s mostly just frolicking around, but there’s a few solid skips in there. It’s gloriously cinematic.
Audra is on camera next, and bill can be heard saying “show me! I want to see.” She hangs in the air longer than any mortal should be able to. Her flowy dress flounces out. She giggles in response to bill saying “wow!” and “you’re really good!”
But then hepassed the phone to Audra. Of course they don’t think to stop filming in between, so you hear all the shuffling. Audra says “okay, show me!” And Bill?? The bitch can’t get his feet off the ground. There’s no elevation at all. Audra is losing her mind. She’s scream laughing. Bill looks devastated.
A moment after his own roasting begins, bill texts back “so does this mean I’m a bad dad?” And immediately it turns to dad comfort. Ben’s “kids don’t usually start to try skipping until they’re four. You have two years to practice!” And Stan’s “your son is going to see you learn and grow as a man. You’re setting a great example.” Its really quite wholesome.
Obviously someone filmed it in the park. The world sees the graceful pursuit of Eddie learning to skip. Twitter obviously loves it because it so so silly and sweet. Richie tweets something stupid like (and funnier than) “bet your husband can’t skip, either.”
And Bev, because she has notifications on for Richie, immediately replies with Ben’s video and saying “my husband could beat your husband”
More videos start pouring in. Stan keeps their video as a groupchat exclusive, but tweets from his rarely active account “Richie I literally taught you how to skip when you were 6.” Richie responds calling him a bitch.
Bill posts their video saying “watch me realize I can’t skip.”
And later. Hours later. Many. Hours. Later. Audra posts a video to her insta story. She has taught Bill how to skip. Is it graceful? No. Does it have technique? No. Could you call it good? No. But goddamn he skipped.
Eddie holds it over him for weeks that he’s the better beginner skipper
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tropes-and-tales · 1 year
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unintentionally caressing each other with sheriff hassan? i’ve been dying for more of him 🥹
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The very first touch between you and Hassan is a handshake.  When he arrives on Crockett Island, he meets many of the inhabitants.  He shakes a lot of hands.  He notes the tight smiles, the wary eyes.  The lone Muslim on a mostly white, mostly Catholic island.  There’s guardedness there.
When you shake his hand, you look him square in the eyes.  You grin at him, pump his hand.  You make a silly joke about crime in his new jurisdiction, but the atmosphere is so tense that Hassan cracks a smile.
You have that knack, he’ll come to find:  the ability to drain tension from a situation.  The talent to soothe, to give comfort.
-----
You’re a touchy person, Hassan notices.  You hug people, do this thing where you clasp their bicep, high up near the shoulder in greeting.  You’re the type of person to steady yourself on another person if you’re laughing, which is Hassan’s favorite:  he loves startling a laugh out of you, the way you brace yourself against him as you giggle.
You don’t seem to notice you do it.  It’s not intentional, he thinks.  
There’s a moment at a school board meeting when Bev tries to push an agenda of prayers in the morning class.  Hassan prickles at the woman’s prejudice because of course she doesn’t mean any prayers other than Christian ones.  
Back and forth the two of them argue, and Bev is so good at toeing the line of microaggressions.  She doesn’t quite come out and accuse him of terrorism, but she nudges against it.  Hassan feels his blood go hot with anger, but you’re the one who gently interjects that Crockett Island’s school is a public one.  You’re the one that gently points out to Bev that prayer is prohibited, but a moment of silent reflection would be fine.
You’re the one who lays a soft hand on Hassan’s wrist as you speak.  You’re seated beside him, crammed into a tiny school desk, and you reach out to touch him.  You give him a gentle squeeze as if to say, “I’m here.  I’m on your side.”
The warm touch of your fingers encircling his wrist…he swears he can feel his blood pressure ticking back down.  Once the issue is settled and the meeting moves onto the topic of roof repairs to the building, you don’t remove your hand, and Hassan’s pulse thuds slow and steady as you hold him.
She doesn’t even realize she’s touching me, he thinks but he refuses to shift.  He refuses to draw attention to it.  
Hassan can admit it to himself:  he likes the feeling of your hand on him.
-----
He never proactively touches you.  He’ll hug you back, a stiff arm around your shoulders, but he doesn’t initiate.  He’s not a touchy person like you, and what if he’s wrongly interpreting your touch as more than just friendly?
He’s happy with what he gets.  A friendly hug from you can nourish him for an entire week of his usual lonely nights.
-----
You usually stop by the general store on Tuesday afternoons, and you usually stop by his office in the back of the building.  You usually stand in his doorway and shoot the breeze with him, and it makes him feel almost like a native Islander—Crockett Island inhabitants are famous for their ability to stand in doorways (or sit on porches or stand on the sandy pathways) and bullshit with each other.
This Tuesday?  He sees you enter the store, and the glimpse he catches makes him sit forward in his seat. You look…off.  Tired?  A little drawn and wan.  Your bright eyes are missing their usual cheerful gleam.
He’s out of his seat and leaving his office when you crumple and fall.  
He gets to you first.  Karen, the owner of the store, reaches you second, and Hassan is already cupping your face, peering down at you as you slowly wake up.
“Wha—” you start to say, but Karen leans over, tells you that you passed out.
Hassan’s heart is in his throat, but this is well-trod ground for the people of Crockett Island.  Karen knows what the score is—you have a blood sugar issue, and it’s paired with the fact that you often skip lunch.  You’ve been getting dizzy since adolescence, passing out enough that people know what to do.  Erin mentioned it once in passing, and Hassan had filed the fact away but never witnessed it until now.  The older woman chides you gently, asks Hassan to stay with you, then goes to get Doc Gunning.
“Sorry,” you mumble from the floor. 
“Don’t apologize.”  He has one hand still cupping your face, and the other grips your hand.  “Do you want to try to sit up?”
You nod.  He gets an arm under your shoulders and helps you sit up.  You scoot back a little until you’re leaning against the counter and Hassan kneels beside you.
It’s strange that you won’t quite meet his eye now.  You scrub a hand over your face and stare down at your lap. 
“You okay?” he asks.  He squeezes your hand and he’s pleased when you squeeze him back with some strength.
“Embarrassed.”
“Why?”
You glance at him, offer a rueful smile.  “Well, now you won’t think I’m cool.”
Hassan laughs.  He eases his arm out from behind your shoulders, and he reaches out and brushes a bit of hair back from your face before his palm returns to cup your face.  He isn’t aware he’s doing it; it’s second-nature, unintentional.  
“Oh, I never thought you were cool,” he teases.  He draws his thumb over your cheekbone, feels the flush his touch raises. 
“Liar,” you reply, but your smile is more you now, less sheepish.    
He could ask why you care what he thinks, but he doesn’t.  He thinks he might know.  He thinks that maybe his nights needn’t be lonely forever.
Hassan shifts until he’s sitting beside you, and he eases his arm back over your shoulders.  He draws you against him, braces you against him.  He bends his head close to your ear and chides you gently as Karen had:  admonishes you to take care of yourself, to be more mindful of how you’re feeling.  He sees you nodding, hears you promise that you will.
“Good girl,” he murmurs, and he holds you tight until the doctor arrives. 
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myveryownfanfiction · 6 months
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18+ MINORS AND THOSE WITHOUT AGE IN BIO DNI
tags: @salemwitch96, @eclecticwildflowers, @illiana-mystery
warnings: swearing, mention of blood
part one
The door opened and I heard keys on the end table. I ventured out from the bedroom to see chucky leaning against the door, a haunted look in his eyes.
“everything ok?” I asked, slowly making my way over to him. Chuckys eyes jumped up from the floor. He let me wrap my arms around his waist, his settling around me as he continued to stare into oblivion.
“Covers fucking blown.” He whispered. Chucky closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against mine. “Two teens came in…” I nodded slowly and pulled him flush against me. Burying my hand in his hair, I breathed out a sigh.
“need to watch your language this weekend.” I whispered. Chucky pulled back and narrowed his eyes at me. “Talk a little louder and you’ll see.” I whispered back with a smile.
“what’s that supposed to mean?” He asked, his voice going back to normal. I pulled away from him at the sound of little feet running down the hallway. Chucky took his eyes off me long enough to see Beverly running towards him. His face completely changed and he knelt down in time to hug her. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes kiddo!” He exclaimed as he stood up, holding her tight to him.
“she’s staying here this weekend while her mom takes care of some things.” Chucky smiled as Beverly pulled back and put her hands on his cheeks.
“hi chucky!” Beverly exclaimed. “We’re carving pumpkins!” Chucky put her down and took her hand as Beverly tried to pull him to the kitchen.
“you left her in the kitchen alone with a knife?” Chucky asked me, a smirk on his face. I laughed and shook my hand.
“you got a little paint on your cheek chuck.” I laughed again and chucky looked down at Beverly’s hands.
“bev, you’re covered in paint!” He laughed.
“I was painting a pumpkin.” She explained. “(Y/N/N) wouldn’t let me carve one.” Beverly pouted and chucky laughed.
“rightly so.” He agreed, smiling down at her. “Show me what you painted.” I leaned against the door as chucky sat down with Beverly in his lap. As they worked on the pumpkin together, I set about getting our pumpkins ready. Chucky would look at me from time to time, clearly feeling better than from when he walked in the door. “I think you’re done kid.” Chucky laughed, gently prying the paintbrush away from Beverly when the pumpkin had been coated in paint.
“but chucky.” Beverly whined as chucky slipped his hands under her armpits and carried her to the sink. Setting her on the counter, chucky pulled her hands under the water to wash off the paint. “Can I help carve the pumpkins?” Beverly stuck her bottom lip out and tried to make her eyes look as big as possible. Chucky kept his focus on the running water in front of him. I started to giggle, knowing he’d cave if he took one look at her.
“nope.” He said, voice wavering. “Not going to let you do that. Or look at you for that matter.” Beverly stuck her lip out further and chucky closed his eyes, a smile playing on his lips. Picking Beverly up, he set her on the floor and patted her head. “Now run off and watch some tv.” Beverly looked at me and I shrugged.
“I have Charlie Brown if you want to watch that.” I offered, knowing how close chucky was to caving. Beverly’s face lit up and I nodded. “Go turn on the tv and I’ll be there in a minute.” Beverly nodded before running out of the room.
“ok now spill. What’s Beverly doing here?” Chucky asked, opening his eyes when he heard the tv turn on. “And why the whole weekend? Not that I’m complaining. I love her here. It’s just…” I nodded as I leaned out of the door to check on her quickly before hugging chucky.
“Sidney’s dad is in the hospital. She doesn’t think he’ll make it. After last year, Sidney didn’t want Beverly up there. Asked if we’d watch her for a bit.” I explained and chucky sighed. He nodded as he squeezed my waist. “I didn’t ask you since I figured you’d be ok with it. She couldn’t get a sitter on such short notice for an indefinite amount of time so…”
“She knew we’d be more than happy to do it. Yeah.” Chucky finished. “Beverly doesn’t know?” I shook my head. “Then we keep it that way.” Chucky kissed my forehead. “You know this is the one thing you never have to ask me about first. I’m always happy to spend time with her.” We stood there for a second before I heard Beverly call for me. “Better go set it up before she comes back and I let her wield a knife.” He teased as he gently patted me on the ass. I smirked at him before going and setting up the special for Beverly. “What’s the plan for Halloween then? Isn’t that tomorrow?” I nodded when I came back into the kitchen.
“I can take her out. It’s no big deal.” I shrugged as we started to carve the pumpkins. Chucky gave me a look and I started laughing. “Our we can take her.”
“we’ll take her.” He said with a smile. “She have a costume?” I nodded.
“Yeah some cartoon character she’s really into right now. And we’ve got the costumes from last year still. We can double up.” I suggested.
“that sounds fine.” He agreed. We fell into a comfortable silence as we continued to work on our pumpkins. “Feels awfully domestic doesn’t it?” Chucky looked up at me and smiled softly.
“Yeah it does.” I agreed. “Will feel even more so tomorrow.” Chucky nodded.
“probably will be the best Halloween we’ve had in a while.” Chucky smiled at me before we went about finishing the pumpkins.
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drewsbuzzcut · 1 year
Text
My Dear Devoted Delicate
mat barzal x model!fem!reader
a visceral in doses fic
Italics are flashbacks! The orange text are the words embroidered in the veil!
warnings: mentions of sex, mentions of being high and drugs but not actually taking drugs, alcohol consumption, being drunk, marriage
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Everyone from your bridal party left you alone in your changing room, wanting to grant your wish of having time to yourself before marrying the love of your life. You took the time to write, not your vows, though. You had written your vows in one go about 3 months ago, it was easy to pour your heart out whenever it came to Mat. Therefore, you just wanted to write your overall feelings about the day. Nothing bad, of course.
Excitement rushed through your body, stimulating your heart and supplying you a high like no other drug could. Your fingers clenched into fists every now and then, wanting to have Mat or Nolan in your grasp. God, you couldn’t wait to see Nolan in his little outfit.
You look at yourself in the mirror, smiling at your reflection. You love the way your wedding dress clings to your body. The corseted, backless dress was crafted by you and the most amazing fashion designers, bringing your vision to life and tears to your eyes. The day you tried it on for the first time is never far away in your memory. You were a crying mess. Your best friend, Beverly, was the only one with you, having to wipe away both of your tears. The fabric was perfect as was the fit and the feeling it gave you.
The dress was paired with a beautiful, vintage pearl necklace, gifted to you by Mat’s mom. It was her necklace that she used to wear all the time. It was your “something old.”
Your “something blue” was not for everyone’s eyes. You had a blue 13 embroidered into the back of your panties from your wedding lingerie set. You picked out your lingerie set a while ago, with some help from Mat. He didn’t know about the 13, though. It’d be a pleasant surprise for tonight.
The “something new” and “something borrowed” belonged to Mat. Traditionally, the bride will have all of them, but this is Mat’s day, too, so you wanted him to take part in the little tradition. You gifted Mat a signet ring with an N engraved- standing for Nolan- as his “something new.” Mat’s father let him borrow his pocket square from his and Mat’s mother’s wedding day as his “something borrowed.” You smile giddily, thinking about how eager Mat was to participate.
“Wait… you want me to do what?” Mat asks, confused about what you were talking about.
“It’s an old tradition that’s usually for the bride only, but I think it’d be nice for you to do it with me,” you explain, watching his eyes light up and mouth twitching into a shy smile.
“I want to do it, yeah!”
You throw your body into his, hugging him around his neck. You can feel his laugh vibrating in his chest.
“Baby, really? I don’t want to force you to do it,” you mumble into his neck, suddenly feeling shy.
“Of course I want to do it. I’ve heard stories of the husband barely being involved, and I know for sure that I want to be involved because I want to marry you just as much as you want to marry me,” he states.
You melt instantly. You grab both his cheeks and bring his lips to yours. One of his hands goes to the back of your neck while his other lays on the small of your back. You’re so into the kiss, you didn’t even realize you were moving until you’re on your back and Mat is on top of you. He’s pressing kiss after kiss into your neck, making your back arch into him. You giggle and direct his lips back onto yours, getting interrupted by Nolan’s cry coming from the baby monitor.
Your face flushes at the sweet memory, accompanied by a few tears daring to fall from your eyes.
A knock on the door, signals the time winding down. You were 5 minutes away from becoming a married woman.
“Y/n/n?”
“Hey, Bev.”
“It’s time to put your veil on. Then we have to go line up. Are you ready?”
“I’ve been ready!”
Beverly grabs your veil. Your very very special veil. It is your favorite thing about your outfit. It is long and made of lace, and embroidered at the end of the train. Not just any embroidery, but Mat’s words he spoke to you when he proposed.
“I want you forever. I want to love you when you feel like you can’t be loved. I want to kiss you, knowing that we’re sharing each other's air. My love for you knows no limits.”
You were shaking from nerves and excitement. You had no idea Mat was going to propose to you. It was just a planned date night at your favorite restaurant in New York. When you got there, you did find it strange that you both had the entire place to yourself. But when Mat led you to a different area filled with your favorite flowers and candles, you just knew. Your thoughts were confirmed when he got down on one knee.
“Y/n, will you marry me?”
He had tears brimming his eyes and his heart was beating fast. He was afraid you could feel the vibrations travel from his fingertips to yours.
“Mathew, of course I’ll marry you. Oh my god! I love you so much, baby. So much!” You exclaim, dropping to your knees so you can kiss your fiancé.
“Y/n, you look so beautiful!”
You smile bright, smoothing down your dress and tousling your hair.
“Bev, let’s get this show on the road!” You didn’t want to waste any more time.
You take multiple deep breaths, you were nervous about walking in front of so many people. You are a model, it’s your job, but this was different. It wasn’t a job. It was the start of your forever with your small family.
You watch all the bridesmaids and groomsmen walk down the aisle, trying to get a glance of Mat without him seeing you. Once you hear the instrumental opening of “Lover” by Taylor Swift, you make your way down to Mat. Mat who’s taking deep breaths, trying to control the tears spilling from his eyes. Mat who’s smiling so wide his jaw probably hurts. Mat who’s holding onto Nolan’s hand while Nolan smiles at you when he sees you moving towards him. He gives you a little wave with his smile that looks just like Mat’s. You love your boys.
As you get to the end of the aisle, Mat reaches his hand out for you. You take it without hesitation, dying to touch him in any way after spending the night away from each other.
“You’re gorgeous,” he whispers to you, lifting your veil over your head.
“You look so handsome. So does Nolan. I can’t wait to be your wife,” you say trying to not get emotional, but you couldn’t help it.
As the officiant welcomes everyone, your and Mat’s eyes remain in contact. You’re both conversing without even speaking. It’s something you’ve become accustomed to, knowing just what the other is thinking or feeling, and knowing how to be there for them mentally and emotionally in times when you can’t physically.
The officiant continues with a short story of your relationship. Everything from when you both first met to small anecdotes of you and Mat becoming parents. You and Mat have to stifle snickers at certain moments and there’s one story that makes you cry, and Mat is quick to wipe away your tears. It’s the story of Nolan’s first night home. It was crazy to hear that night from someone else’s point of view as you asked Mat’s parents if they could provide stories for the officiant, and they were with you that crazy night.
After laughs and awes from the audience, you’re led into the vows. You going first.
“Mat, I remember the first time I met you; we bumped into each other outside a bar that I shouldn’t have even been at. You followed after me when my embarrassment got the best of me and I walked away. Well, I’m so glad you did. We had so many problems at the start. I thought that maybe we weren’t meant to be together, but then things just started falling into place. We found a rhythm that worked for our crazy lives. We proved a lot of people wrong, too,” you speak your thoughts, winking at Mat after your previous sentence and earning a blush and chuckle from him.
“I never knew a love so powerful could exist. Every time I stare into your beautiful eyes, I see our future. I see the never ending love that pumps through your veins. I feel it when you touch me. Any simple touch: you kissing my neck tattoo, or you tracing the tattoo that goes down my spine. I feel that warmth. It’s so invasive, in the best way. From witnessing you achieve great accomplishments in hockey to witnessing you become a father, I have never appreciated someone so much. No one tells you how special it is to see the man you love become a father. Mat, you’re the best father ever. I have no doubts that you’ll be the best husband ever. I cannot wait to love you for the rest of my life; I’m glad I’m the one that gets to love you for the rest of your life,” you finish through tears, hands squeezing Mat’s.
He lifts your hand to place it over his heart, knowing that the thumping will soothe you.
“Y/n, you’re the love of my life. You always will be. There’s not a day that goes by, a second even, when I’m not thinking about you and our life together. And now, our family together. You’re the strongest person I know. You’ve put up with me and hockey, you’ve worked with me through our challenging times, and you’ve never given up on me, on us. When you brought Nolan into our lives, you also brought out a new side of yourself that I got to love. The intimacy of being understood is complicated, but you, my love, have figured it out. You know me and you understand me. Y/n, you’re the best person that there is. You’re the best mother, and you’re my best friend. I love you. I promise to always love you,” Mat says his vows.
He’s crying and you’re crying. Even the audience is shedding some tears.
You lay the palm of your hand on his cheek, wiping away his tears. He just turns his head and kisses the inside of your wrist. Butterflies spread throughout your entire body at the small action.
“And now, Y/n, do you take Mat to be your husband? Do you promise to love, honor, and cherish him for as long as you shall live? To stay faithful and in love through good times and in bad; in sickness and in health?” The officiant asks.
“I do!” You state, no hesitation.
“Mat, do you take Y/n to be your wife? Do you promise to love, honor, and cherish her for as long as you shall live? To stay faithful and in love through good times and in bad; in sickness and in health?”
“I do!” Mat commits and you hake in giddiness, ready to leap into his arms and kiss the life out of him.
“Y/n and Mat will now exchange rings as a symbol of love and commitment.”
Mat softly grabs your left hand, tingles spreading like wildfire. He slides on the ring, mouthing “I love you,” right after. You bat your eyelashes at him, willing him to just kiss you. The cold, gold ring: a reminder of forever being wrapped around your finger. After you slide his ring on his finger, Mat steps a bit closer to you. He ever so gently and discreetly, brings his hand to wrap around your waist.
“Y/n and Mat, by the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss your bride!”
Mat closes all remaining space between the two of you, lips pressed to yours, earning cheers and hollers from everyone. His hands are placed on the small of your back while yours are wrapped around his neck, and when you feel him start to dip you, you hold on even tighter.
“Mama, kith,” you hear Nolan mumble with his cute lisp as he tugs on your dress.
“Hi, my baby! I will give you all the kisses you want. You look so handsome!” You quickly pick him up and shower his face with kisses, making him squeal.
“Like daddy?” He shyly asks. Nolan always loved matching with his dad, and he loved when you’d say that he looked just like him.
“Just like daddy, baby,” you assure him. He smiles and nuzzles his face into your neck, clutching onto your body.
Mat hugs the both of you, overjoyed and needing you in his arms.
The three of you walk back down the aisle in your own worlds. You’re too thrilled and filled with love to pay attention to anything else besides Mat’s large hand pressed on your bare back, and Nolan’s warm body in your arms.
Before you and Mat part ways with everyone, you hand Nolan to his grandparents so that you can have privacy on your way to the reception venue. You were very thankful for Mat’s parents and Liana as they all agreed to watch over Nolan during your wedding night and honeymoon.
When you’ve entered the small, but quiet space of your limo, you immediately pull Mat in for a kiss. Kicking off your heels, carding your fingers through his hair, you swipe your tongue along his bottom lip and thrust your tongue into his mouth when it opens just for you.
“You smoke show. You’re sexy,” he whispers into your lips, making you whimper. You’re doused in need.
“I can’t wait to fuck my husband,” you moan.
“I can’t wait to make love to my wife,” he says back, making you blush.
“Tonight. When we get to the reception, I need to change into my other dress,” you explain, playing with the ends of his hair.
He kisses you in response. He stares into your eyes, brushing your hair behind your ears. You lean your body more into his, head resting over his heart and his hands rub your arms.
“I love you.”
“I love you.”
You were so glad the venue had a private room. It saved you from having to change in a stall, and allowed for Mat to unzip your wedding dress in a private, intimate matter.
Your second dress was a white, silk slip dress. It was perfect for dancing and walking around while you greeted your guests. Plus, it is backless just like your wedding dress, and Mat loves whenever you wear something backless.
“We’re married, barzy!” You squeal as you finish changing.
“We are! God, I love that you’re my wife. My wife! Mrs. Barzal, that’s hot,” Mat blurts out, pulling you into his arms.
“Ughhh… you’re hot. My hotshot, nhl superstar, sexy ass husband. I fucking love you,” you whisper in his ear, nipping his lobe for good measure.
“Baby, thank you,” it’s his turn to whisper in your ear.
“For what?”
“Loving me. Giving me Nolan. Being you. Everything,” Mat explains.
“Baby, maty, I love you and I’d do anything for you,” you kiss him again before he can respond.
“I think it’s time to have our first dance, wife.”
Everyone takes their seats, clapping when you and Mat are announced to the dance floor for your first dance as a married couple. The melodious sounds of the piano fill the room as the song you both picked starts playing. He pulls you in by your hands and then moves his to rest on the small of your back. You wrap your arms around his neck, loving the close contact. You sway your bodies to the soft beat. Mat’s finger is tracing your divine feminine tattoo that’s inked into the skin of your spine.
One of Mat’s hands moves to settle on your waist, his other holding your hand as you start to waltz around the dance floor. As you’re spinning around, you feel yourself letting the world slip away. You stare up at Mat, eyes full of stars. His eyes are just as lovestruck, gazed over with wonder. As the song winds down, Mat spins you out and the spins you back in, so your back is pressed to his front. He has a hand resting on your lower stomach, and you swear you can feel how fast his heart is beating. Who knew two imperfect souls were destined to come together and make something so beautiful out of life.
The song ends, resulting in everyone cheering and Mat kissing you on the lips, shoulder, and side of your neck. Everything feels so fuzzy; you’re high on just emotions. You and Mat parade each other around the room, visiting with guests and laughing at different stories. His hand doesn’t leave your waist for one second. He needed to be touching you in some way.
You try to eat, but the flurry of excitement and happiness distract you many times. For a good part of the party, you spend it dancing around with everyone anyways. Mat was also very tipsy, so he for sure wasn’t leaving your side.
After a couple hours of dancing and drinking, the DJ announces a mother and son dance. It was your idea to show thanks to Mat’s mom for raising such an amazing person. You watch from the sideline, with tears filling your eyes, how Mat laughs and talks with his mom. Her eyes are joyful and she looks so proud. You can only hope you will be as good of a mom as she is.
You carry Nolan from where he was seated, to the dance floor. You twirl around with him in your arms. His head is resting on your shoulder with his arms wrapped around your neck, and he’s staring up at you with tired eyes, but his smile is content. Your poor baby boy, he has had a long day. His little hand is rubbing your neck, something he does when he’s on the verge of falling asleep.
“Momma pretty. Love you,” you have to hold in your tears at his sweet voice and sweet words.
“Thank you, baby. Mommy loves you, too. You can go to sleep if you want,” you whisper into his skin as you kiss his cheek.
During your little moment, you didn’t notice the song ending, so Mat was quick to come over to you to see what was wrong.
“Babe?” He questions, brows furrowed and a hand on your back.
“Yeah?”
“Is everything ok?”
“Yeah? Nolie is just tired,” You point out, Nolan already asleep.
Mat takes him from your arms into his, patting his back to keep him relaxed and asleep. You both finally take this moment to sit down. Mat’s hair is sweaty and a little wavy, he’s only wearing his button up with the sleeves rolled up. He looks extra sexy. Plus, Nolan is laid across his large upper body, making him even more attractive. As said before, there’s just something so attractive about your man being a father.
Even as the night continues to dwindle down, it’s still full of dancing and laughing. You and Mat are still glued together. At one point, you stuff yourselves in a secluded corner and make out like horny teenagers. It’s hot and touchy until Liana had to interrupt you because she was taking Nolan up to her hotel room to sleep.
Once the majority of people left around midnight and it was just some of yours and Mat’s friends, you started another round of drinking and dancing.
“Maty,” you whine, buzzing on the Vin Santo Di Carmignano Riserva wine that you both requested for the event. Your body is practically wrapped around his and his strong arms are holding you up even though he has had a lot more to drink than you.
“Yes, baby?”
“Take me upstairs and love on me,” you whisper in his ear, not drunk enough to not know what is going on and what you want.
“Not everyone has left yet.” Mat has an amused look on his face, even though he knew damn well that he wanted to take you up to the hotel suite just as much.
“So? I’m sure they can find their way out. I need you, please,” you beg, kissing his sweet spot on his neck.
“You win, let’s go!”
Hook, line, and sinker.
You perk up, wrapping your legs around his waist, earning whistles from whoever was around still, but you were in your own world where just you and Mat existed.
“Happy wife, happy life,” you muse cheekily, earning a breathtaking kiss and laugh from Mat.
a/n: It’s finally here! I hope you all enjoy. I am going to do a separate piece of their wedding night, and I might do a piece or a few small pieces on their honeymoon!
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eastend-if · 3 months
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Hello!! Okay so ROs reaction to MC being asked out in front of them..? (crushing stage vs. relationship stage)
Hope this kind of ask is okay!! Have a great week 💜
Aina would be sooooo excited for MC (esp if it's someone she knows). She's the type to go a bit overboard and wants to help MC with prep :] She'd be squeeling, jumping around and giggling until she tackles MC in a hug with how happy she is for them.
Aina with a crush would still be happy bjt her happiness is dimmed. She wants the best for MC so she'll smile and nods but she will be eating a lot of sweets when she gets home. She'd also let MC know abt her feelings before they get in a proper couple 🤭 She thinks it'll help her move on !
Unlike, Aina, Beverly is pretty quiet but she's protective. She'd be glaring at whoever is asking MC out but also trying to see if she could sense anything about them. I think if it was someone "normal" She'd even advise MC against that. All in all would still be happy for a friend even if it's not the most sound decision.
Now, a crushing Beverly? She's someone who struggles a lot with her feelings so when she tugs MC away from whomever asked them out, she doesn’t quite realize it. I think it could easily lead to one of their first fights with Bev saying shes the one who understands MC best! If MC refused to hear her out, she'd stomp away. But if they stay, they'd get Bev opening up about her own feelings ask them to wait for her.
Benji would be happy for a friend MC to be asked out if a little embarrassed because that should probably not be his business 😳 He'd wish them good luck with a smile and that'd be that. He's very easy-going.
If he was crushing on MC, well unfortunately Benji is used to make himself past last, but shouldn't he have a right to fight for what he wants also? And with this question in mind, He'd watch the scene. As soon as he can, he'd ask MC if that's what they want, much more concerned abt them than he is of himself. He'd leave them with a kiss on the forehead, a little good bye to his own love.
Hez is a little shithead and would start to tease MC endlessly. He'd be happy for them but he's obviously not telling them that now. Later when they're alone and sharing a lil moment.
For a crushing Hez, it'd start about the same, teasing but it's more like barbs than it is playful. It's directed at both MC and the person that's asking them out. He's mean like a bad dog when he's nervous or whatever<3 He's liable to grab MC wrist to drag them a few ways away to ask if they like him and will grin smugly should the answer be in his favor.
Thank you for the ask☺️ Have a great week too!!
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acesofspadess · 4 months
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And We're Live!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Worth The Risk Masterlist
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You still couldn't believe that you had all made it to the live shows. You were excited to see Beverly and Bentley again as you hadn't spoken to them in a while.
"Making their debut performance, and the last of the groups, Simon." Dermot briefly introduced giving the floor to Simon. 
"Last act up tonight. Get ready. Its One Direction." The cheers were loud as your video played. 
“Being through to the live shows is absolutely incredible.” Harry started and you all agreed. 
“Im Louis. Im 18 and I'm from doncaster.”
“Im Harry, Im 16 and I'm from Cheshire.”
“Im Niall. Im 17 and I'm from Mullingar in Ireland”
“Im Liam. Im 17 and I'm from Wolverhapmton.”
“Im Zayn. Im 17 and I'm from Bradford.”
“Im Autumn. Im 15 and I'm from Hazel Grove.”
~~~~~
“You wouldn't connect this band with song normally… but it works.” 
~~~~~
As the screens opened you were standing next to Louis and Liam as the song started and Liam took his solo.
All of your solos, and choreo ran as best as they could. The chorus was the best as you all got to sing with each other. And you got the last line for your solo which you nailed if you say so yourself.
The cheers were loud as you all hugged shakily, the adrenaline still rushing through you. “When I heard you were gonna do Coldplay I thought it was a big big risk, but I love what you did with the song. You totally did it your own and I love that the band is working cause even though Simon is gonna say he put this band together, it was my idea originally Simon. It was. It was my idea and it worked.” Louis and Simon argued as you stood next to Louis who rubbed your shoulder happily. “I believe you could be the next big boy band… with a girl.” You laughed at that knowing you were in fact a boy band with one girl. “You have a lot of work to do with- Simon do you have a stylist? Or is it you?” the audience booed as you guys looked at each other slightly off put.
“I dont know who put you together because I wasn't there but you guys fit together so well.” You all jumped around at her words. “The song was great. You truly did make it your own. I wasn’t thinking of Cold Play then. Perfect pop band performance.”
The audience cheered and Danii’s words. “I have to agree with Danii, you look like you were meant to be together and in a group. You look fantastic. You've got all the ingredients for the perfect pop band. The girls and boys at home are going crazy for you, but you've got to take a little bit more time to develop as a group. That's all, just a little bit.” You grabbed Nialls hand after that and he squeezed it tightly. 
“As far you go in creating the group Louis lets rewind the tapes.” Simon fired back and everyone laughed. “Essentially you guys came together because your bootcamp auditions were not good enough, but you were too good to throw away. We took a risk. I’ve got to tell you what was so impressive about that- because its a big leap going on that stage- is when one of you started to screw up at the end Autumn and Liam stepped in and you brought it back together. Thats what bands do.” You and Liam- who was behind you- looked at each other and smiled as you rested your head against him briefly in gratitude. 
“And regarding the whole style issue, Louis… I don't want to style this band because I don't know how to style a band like this. We want the band to do whatever they wanted to do. I'm not gonna interfere, they're gonna do it their way. It was brilliant guys.” 
As Dermot came on stage you all got closer and saw Harry wink at someone in the crowd and you giggled at him making him look toward you and smile. You still held Niall's hand in yours and you let go of it only to wave as you walked off stage before everyone was wrapped in a giant hug by Louis. “Tommo!” you screamed laughing as it was your back he jumped on in the hug. Everyone laughed as you pulled apart and you saw Bev and Bentely. 
You ran to them giving them both hugs. “You did so well!” they cheered you on and you laughed anxiously. “We’re so proud of you, you know? We might not be able to make it to any more shows, but we want you to know that.” Bev told you and you shook your head knowingly. “Yeah I know. School and the drive must be really hard to balance. But I'm so glad you came when you could.” Bentely handed you a box without saying anything. “Man of many words.” you joked as open the box to see a new Blackberry. “No way you didnt.” you gasped as you jumped at him and he hugged you laughing. “First performance gift.” you laughed knowing how he would spoil you whenever he could. “Thank you Meadow.” he hugged you again. “Always Fall. Your Nan and Pap would kill me if I forgot but they said they'll try to get her soon. With the bakery being busy and the distance.” You understood and knew they wouldn't want you to think they didnt care. “I'll call them later and tell them its all alright.”
“Hey Autumn! We're going out to eat.” Harry called from a little ways back. “You gonna join?” you faced back to them. “Gotta get miss studious back to school. Sorry Fall.” you laughed it off because Beverly was the least studious person you knew, but school came easy to her. “Autumn!” Louis called.
“Okay I'll see you guys later.” You gave them another hug before running off and jumping on Zayn's back. “Ride like the wind.” you spoke mockingly until he actually started running and you couldn't help but laugh hysterically as all the boys chased you both through the stadium and to the car park. “Where are we eating?”
“KFC.”
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Worth The Risk Masterlist
tags:
@youcan-nolonger-run @ravenclawdirectioner
@luxiorchive @maeflowers653  @purple9950 @forkmeniall @nathalielovesonedirection @hopsydaisy @shortie-niya 
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chezzywezzy · 2 years
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Yandere Pennywise (2/2)
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Word count ; 3.6k
‘ROBERT ‘BOB’ GRAY, FORMER VICTIM AND CURRENT ASSAILANT, BURNS LOCAL SCHOOLHOUSE DOWN’
‘Mid-afternoon, many students were inside the classroom learning. Robert ‘Bob’ Gray, a man who was once pitied for losing everything in a fire, was found setting the entire school ground ablaze. It is hypothesized that he first poured gasoline around the outside before setting it on fire, successfully trapping all the children inside to burn. 
‘Families are outraged, but it seemed that he trapped himself inside, as well. Some of the corpses were found with other wounds aside from burning. Some were stabbed and slaughtered by hand. His body wasn’t found, but with the entire building turned to ashes, officials are skeptical that he escaped and it assumed that he intended to commit suicide…’
I blinked. Something was so very eery about the article. My eyes flitted up to the photo itself. It showed but a pile of ash and degraded stone where a schoolhouse once towered. The woodlands surrounding it were untouched and the photo seemed to be taken in the middle of the day.
And that’s when I noticed it. Standing amongst the pile, frozen in time, was that damned clown. I gulped, wanting nothing more than to shove the paper in because I finally had some insight to it all. However, I was seemingly entranced, leaning closer to the photo.
The clown tilted its head and waved.
I blinked, thinking of it to be nothing. But even when my eyes opened once more, it was still waving. A shriek of fear escaped as I pushed it back into the folder. I was panting profusely from the sight and put it away. Or, planned to, but was cut short.
I heard the familiar grunts and giggles I turned, and in the dim lighting, I saw an entire line of my former classmates emerge from behind one of the shelves.They were just as distraught and disgusting as usual. I didn’t have a gun on me, so all I knew to do was grasp the keys tightly, painfully, and dash past them.
I panted as I tried to shove past the various archives. I felt terrible as I knocked over several of the boxes, but they got in the path of the makeshift zombies. I was truly about to pass out from fear. I didn’t even bother flicking off the light, racing up the stairs.
I threw the door open. I slammed against the silent library wall. I was panicked, and it was clear as Beverly emerged from one of the shelves, clearly bewildered. She gasped in concern, noticing my disheveled appearance. I slammed the door behind me and pressed my back to it.
“What happened? Are you alright?”
I shook my head. I was about to blabber about the evil clown and the walking dead, but I caught myself. Instead, I stuttered,” Spiders. There are really, really big spiders down there.”
She froze in place clearly not expecting me to have reacted so strongly to the small critters. And I wouldn’t have. But what I saw down there was far more frightening that giant spiders. It was my past, being controlled by some evil clown.
“Only spiders?”
“Yep. Thanks for the help, Bev.”
I shoved the key into her chest. He caught it, although was still clearly shocked. I began speed-walking away, not giving the woman the chance to reprimand or question me further. I needed sustenance, sleep, and general mental recovery.
Immediately.
~~~
“You don’t look like you’ve been sleeping well, honey.”
No shit, dad. I was either going insane or this town was haunted by some revenge-bound clown ghost. Either possibility had driven me to nightmares last night. All I could see were glowing red eyes in a dark cave. And I knew that the beast had to have some sort of headquarters where I could kill it.
How I could kill it was the only remaining question.
The first thing that came to mind was shotguns and fire. If fire killed the monster once, it would sure as hell do it again, right?
So, after making another pitstop at the gun store, I got gasoline and a lighter, and many, many bottles. The cash register recognized me and was clearly questioning what the hell I needed it all for, but I played it off. That everything was for general recreational use.
So, I was driving around the town. I knew that, whatever that house meant, it had to be where the root of the problem started. And I was led to believe that the house that burned down was just it. I was driving down a backwoods road, and it opened up to a hidden countryside. The pale yellow grass covered both sides of the road. There was a distant forest, but it was a nice field in the meantime.
There wasn’t a house in the area, it seemed, so I sped up ever so slightly. I kept my eyes trained on the road ahead, but one glance to the side made me recognize the semi-rebuilt and abandoned house from the fire so very long ago. I gasped quietly.
Just as I turned my attention back to the road, I recognized the clown. He was standing in the center of the road, waving eagerly. A scream escaped, and as badly as I wanted to have mown down the asshole, I swerved the steering wheel out of habit.
My scream echoed in the tiny car as I crashed through the weak white picket fence. My foot was slamming onto the breaks desperately and my life flashed in front of my eyes. But then, all at once, it came to a screeching halt as I slammed right into a small, yet firm tree.
Sparks flew from the engine. I panted profusely, my grip on the steering wheel tight and deadly. Some of my items had rolled off the seat beside me. They clanked against the gasoline canister. I was still preparing myself, stunned and frozen in place.
Suddenly, a knock came from the passenger window. I turned, gasping as I saw the clown there, crouching down. It was so human-like. Its movements, when its head wasn’t rolling away from the body, was so normal. If I didn’t know better and if he had disguised himself any better, I would’ve thought it was just some guy.
But it wasn’t. It was a murderous clown that was holding my dear brother captive.
I grit my teeth and grabbed my stuff. I moved quickly, undoing my seatbelt. My gaze didn’t leave the clown and I reached for the door. I swung it open and ducked my body out of the crushed vehicle. However, as I peered over the car the clown had seemingly disappeared.
Shivers rolled down my spine. I turned, marching right up the steps. The building had seemingly been remade but was abandoned regardless. The right of the building was rather tilted and the wood was rotted and broken. The windows were shattered and covered in newspapers.
I peered over my shoulder one last time. My heart thudded erratically in my chest. I was ready, and as I saw the clown standing in the road, still waving and grinning. I knew Robert ‘Bob’ Gray was, too, or whatever remnants remained from the possessed demon clown.
The front door opened with ease. I bit my lip and went inside. I scanned the area. To my left was a burnt crisp of a living room, and to my right was a fairly average extension of that plus a kitchen. I didn’t dare look out the window to see if the clown was still there; I knew he wouldn’t be.
And clearly, as I looked over the area, the devil spawn’s house wasn’t downstairs.
I began walking up some steps. I gulped as they creaked loudly beneath my weight. Some of the steps were broken and cracked in half. The house was eerily silent for something that was supposed to be possessed. And one supposed that the clown was trying to prevent me from reaching its secret hideaway. 
But it wanted me to find him. That much was clear.
He wanted to see me try and kill him.
And kill him I would.
I made it to the top. I noticed many closed doors, but there was one in front of me cracked open ever so slightly. With the tip of my flame thrower, I pushed it open. The shotgun was strapped over my back and the rope tied around my shoulders. The first aid kit was tied to a belt loop, tapping against my upper thigh with each step I took.
Inside the room were many, many things. But, most noticeable, was a well. I furrowed my brows and checked the room for any signs of enemies to fight, but it was still empty. And yet, as I inched forward, the door slammed behind me.
I stood in front of the well. I wanted to back down. But I was fucked if I did and so was my dear brother, Mike. This was for him. And clearly, this clown had a knack for fighting kids. Not a grown-ass adult. That gave me the upper hand in this situation.
I crouched down and began lowering the rope. I couldn’t see into the darkness below, but I trusted that there was something. After that, I attached it to the side. I tested the rope, hoping it was sturdy enough to hold my weight plus a large gun plus a flame thrower plus other miscellaneous objects.
It seemed to hold. 
And so, I took the next step to the terrifying adventure. I lowered my body into the well. The rope swung and it was hard to climb down, so very tempted to just slide all the way. And yet, the adrenaline gave me strength. One step at a time, I lowered myself. 
I was completely submerged in darkness, except for the entrance to the well above me. It grew distant, but from the bottom, I heard dripping water. It echoed loudly. It sounded like some sort of cavern.
And then, suddenly, my body tensed. From above, I heard howling, high-pitched laughter. I tilted my head up as the rope started tilting. A scream seized in my throat in horror as I realized the clown was above, and in his claws fingers, he held the rope. He was grinning, taunting me.
“Fuck you!” I shouted angrily.
“Wrong answer, pal.”
With his other finger, he sliced the rope. The scream finally escaped as my body tumbled into the darkness. The rope had been cut, yet I gripped it so tightly in hopes it would magically reconnect. It didn’t, but not even a few seconds later, my body collided with the ground.
My head had hit a spiky rock. My vision spun and I saw stars. My body was contorted strangely and everything ached. My fingers itched to be ready to kill a bitch, but I had to recuperate. As I grew conscious again, I realized I was in a cave. It was dimly lit by oddly modern and romantic candles with a scent of lavender, stuck into the wall.
As I sat up, I realized the only path to go was straight. The terrain was rocky and there was a thin layer of water, shimmering menacingly. I pushed myself to my feet, panting slightly. I began walking, although I had a prominent limp.
It took a solid ten minutes - or, it felt like it, at least - before I ended up anywhere. The path began to widen and the light became more natural. As I stepped out into an open room, horror dawned on me. There was a large, tall entrance, and at the top of the ‘ceiling’, there was another well. Hanging from balloons, in the middle of the room, were dozens of children. Each of them were sad and unmoving, their corpses swinging to even the slightest breeze.
A scream echoed from my lips. I took in every detail. Some weren’t wearing the most modern of clothing, while others could’ve been swiped off the street just yesterday. My eyes searched desperately for my brother, Mike, but my attention flitted elsewhere.
Lining the opposite cave walls were various newspapers, photos, and journals. I made my way over, flame thrower poised and prepared. I gulped at the intensity of the tiny room, even though it was currently deserted. With squinted eyes, I took in the details of the articles.
One I recognized instantly. I was taken aback by how preserved it was. The same exact article, with the wife’s face scratched out, was preserved. A thumb tack hung it up, but because of the sheer hoard of documents, I had to pluck it free.
It was the same article. But, as I scanned it further, the woman, Y/n Gray, looked exactly like me. A slightly older version, probably around the age of twenty-five like Robert Gray, though. I let it float to the ground as horror dawned on me. Photo after photo was on the wall, and most uncanny of all, they all looked like me.
As I scooted down to find one that clearly wasn’t, I realized. I recognized several college photos of me, somehow plucked from frames at home. I tugged the free in terror before crumpling them in my fists angrily. I continued to do that, because whatever this freak clown was on, he mistook whatever preexisting lover he had for me.
And, because of that, Mike was paying the price.
“Now that’s not very nice.”
I swerved, automatically pulling the trigger. However, the voice echoed, and as the smoke cleared, there was no sign of the horrible demon. It was so silent, in fact, that I heard birds chirping from overhead. 
I gulped. My eyes continued to scan the floating children for my brother, but I couldn’t. That had hope flourish within me that Mike was somehow alive. And that idea was reinforced further when I heard a struggling cough from a dark corner.
I froze in place. Crawling from an unknown area was my brother. He was coxed in blood and dirt and looked so very hungry. He was weak. He’d been trapped far too long. He reached a hand out toward me as he stumbled, and my heart melted.
“Y/n, help me!”
I surveyed the room. It was so suspicious. The little boy was trotting eagerly toward me, arms outstretched. My eyes scanned the floating children, searching for any blotches of bright orange that could be him. My heart thudded anxiously in my chest.
I couldn’t find Mike. But I also sure as hell didn’t trust the tiny child a few feet away from me. I gulped, tears threatening to spill. And then, I pressed the ignition, pointing the flamethrower at the kid.
For a moment, regret washed over me as the boy lit up into flames. He flailed and screamed at the top of his lungs, but remained in the spot he was. I took a few steps back, tears sliding down my cheeks. I fucked up. I fucked up. I fucked up —
And suddenly, the scream became something angrier. Far more high-pitched. Although the skin was flaky and ashen, it all started to morph and reform, the fire extinguishing. From the ashes, that damned clown… no. I realized it was still that horrible monster. 
And yet, it was taking the form of something far more human. The same man from the photographs. Robert ‘Bob’ Gray.
He looked pissed, though. As he completely formed, I went to get him ablaze once more. And yet, the flame thrower was null and empty. After one final spurt of fire, it died down. And, as the demon watched this, he grinned. Widely, and then even wider. His fists unclenched and one hand raised toward me.
An amused grin stretched onto the monster’s face. He took a step closer. I took one back. He took another step closer. And I,  another one back.
I shrieked out of frustration. All at once, the truth of the situation hit me like a freight train. Mike was dead. This demon tricked me. And now, I was dead, too.
I pulled the strap over my shoulder. I threw the flame thrower right at him, but he stood strong. It fell to his feet, and he let out an amused, bellowing laugh. Far deeper in tone than it had ever been before. And then, stepping over the machinery, he kept backing me up toward the corner.
I lifted the shotgun. I was hyper-focused, doing everything I needed to in a millisecond. And the moment everything was set, I shot.
The man only stumbled back somewhat. But the bullet was absorbed nonetheless. The grin continued to wide, unnaturally so. I shot again, but the gun yielded no results. I was fucked. It was impossible to kill.
 After one final step, I felt the cave wall behind me. I pressed myself against it, fingers digging into the dirt. As a last resort, I burst into tears on the spot. The demon’s smile stretched and circled the entirety of his face. And then, it all caved in. He was right in front of me, tearing the gun from my grip in one fell swoop.
Underneath the facade was teeth. So many teeth. There were rows upon rows, like a shark about to devour its prey. A roar escaped, causing the entire cavern to shake and tremble. I shrunk my body as much as humanly possible. I was utterly frightened to the core, and tilted my head away.
I wasn’t sure how long I was exposed to the teeth. I squeezed my eyes shut, expecting to be eaten then and there. I wasn’t dumb. I realized the implications the minute I walked in here. The clown ate the children, and I was surely next. I was going to die because I stupidly thought I had an ounce of strength within me —
Everything fell silent. But I didn’t trust it. For a while, I stay there, frozen. And then, I felt it. A soft, human hand gliding across my skin and cupping my cheek. I dared to open one eye. It was Robert ‘Bob’ Gray, in the flesh, and any anger had seemingly dissolved into what I could only describe as a lovesick madness.
I squeaked fearfully. “Please. Y - you don’t have to do this! I don’t know what you want from me, b - but I’m not who you’re looking for!”
A smile twitched and tugged at the manic demon’s lips. He tilted his head ever so slightly. There was almost a fond look in his eyes. “Oh, but I do. And you are.”
He tilted my head. His thumb drifted underneath my eye, swiping away the onslaught of tears. I bit my lip, not daring to move. His yellow-slitted eyes were unnatural. A stark reminder of the horrifying clown it tended to take its appearance as.
“Returned to me at last…” he hummed fondly. “Just as it should be.”
“I’m not her. It’s all coincidence!”
“You sure seem like her to me.”
Silence fell between us. His eyes scanned every inch of me, as though he were doing a double-take. I gulped, waiting for anything. I’d rather die than be a captive and starve to death in a cave. This was never supposed to happen. How had things gone so terribly wrong?
“Your fear amuses me. You don’t remember. But you will.”
I squeezed my eyes shut. It was so odd to have such a demonic creature kiss my forehead so gently. It was positive I was its old lover, even though all we shared was the same appearance. Everything was wrong, so very wrong.
“Now… you’ll float too, my love.”
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luvrlou · 1 year
Text
Drunk on Cam
Pairing: CalFreezy x fem!reader
Warnings: Drinking, Sexual References, Swearing
Summary: Cal and his girlfriend have a bit too much fun helping Tobi film his video.
A/N: Sidemen + Cal imagines?
Word Count: 1.0k
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"Who's ready to get their stomach pumped?" Harry teased, shaking Tobi's shoulder lightly, causing Ethan to giggle and Tobi to shoot him an odd yet frightened look.
You looked up at Cal from your seat on the couch in the corner of the room, hoping you had the same idea as him. He looked down at you, "we're tanning this bev after, yeah?"
"Fuck yeah!" You whisper-yelled back, hoping not to gain attention from the three boys sitting and talking to the camera.
Tobi had invited Ethan and Harry to make a video of his first time drinking alcohol, which caused Harry to drag you and Cal around Poundland and Asda looking for the cheapest booze you could find since it was being filmed in the flat you, Cal and Harry shared.
Originally, it was only going to be Harry, Ethan and Tobi but the two boys thought Tobi would benefit from some moral support.
You both watched in silence on the couch, Cal's arm slung over your shoulder, directing your body into his side. For the majority of the filming, you watched Tobi getting fed more and more drinks, occasionally saying the odd word to Cal.
"Y/N! I think Tobi's going to need some support!" Ethan shouted over to you, his voice uneven from laughter.
You went to stand up before Cal interrupted, "How come I can't come?"
"It's Glens Cal, I know what you would do to poor Tobi, believe it or not Y/N is the nicer one in your relationship."
You smiled tauntingly at Cal and walked to the couch, Ethan making room for you between him and the terrified man next to him.
"Okay so you're either a Vodka or a Sambuca person, never both." Harry explained, reaching over to get the shot glass. He filled it to the brim, poor Tobi looked absolutely mortified.
"Don't worry Tobi, I can have a shot too if you want!" You suggest, looking to Harry for approval.
"Oh yeah! Y/N! Feeling Brave!" Harry cheered, grabbing another shot glass and filling it up. "You will take your shots in," he paused, "3.. 2.. 1!" You tipped the burning liquid down your throat, giving your head a shake after.
"Holy shit! Pass me the Sambuca!" You dramatically announced. As soon as Ethan gave it over you snatched it, popping off the lid and pouring it directly in your mouth.
"Y/N! Stop getting gassed on our bev!" Ethan shouted, snatching the bottle out of your hands.
"I didn't see you slaving away after Harry all morning looking for all the bloody booze did I?" You snapped back, reaching for Tobi's carton of apple juice.
"See people! This is why I don't drink!" Tobi said to the camera, "it gets you all pissy."
"It was a rough night last night Tobi, I was wrongfully convinced to go to a rave, with that prick over there!" You groaned, pointing to Cal.
"Anyway! Back to the drinks!" Ethan grinned.
"It's time to pick your mixers-" Harry was cut off by Ethan hyena cackle, "shit you already did that. It's time to pick your poison!"
Harry set out all three liquors out in a row, letting Tobi pick one, he ends up picking Wray and Nephews. You and Ethan burst out laughing as Harry pours way too much into the cup, Tobi sits there dreading what is to come.
The rest of the cup is filled up with Sprite and pushed towards Tobi, "Drink up before I do," You smiled teasingly.
He reluctantly grabbed the cup and took a sip before slamming it to the table, "how can people drank that!"
"If you won't have it I will!" You grinned, reaching over Tobi and taking the glass, letting the cool liquid flow smoothly down my throat.
"Can we not get my girlfriend drunk! She has a hangover!" Cal can be heard shouting from the couch in the corner of the room.
"The best way to cure a hangover is more bev!" Harry shouts back, "and on that note," the proclaimed 'Sambuca' alarm goes off.
"I'm not doing it this time if no one else is." Tobi stated.
"Fine, we'll all do it! Even Cal," Ethan answered, grabbing four shot glasses, each one getting filled with the sweet liquor.
Cal trudged over as everyone got situated with their shots, we all clinked glasses and downed them, "my body hated that." Ethan mumbled.
"Same here!" Cal added.
"You know I think it's time to end the video," Tobi started.
Cal mouthed to Ethan for him to move so he could sit with you. Ethan obviously complied, claiming he would 'never stand in the way of love.' You got situated, comfily leaning into Cal, his hand slowly gliding over your hip.
You both knew fine this was going to be posted somewhere by a fan, but at this point, you couldn't care less. It was like a game, sometimes you wouldn't even glance at one another in videos, and others you would be all over one another. Just like this one.
When Tobi finished up his video, throwing himself back into the couch.
"Me and Cal are necking all this tonight, " you announced, indicating to all the opened bottles of alcohol.
"That's fine, don't have too much fun, I would like to have an undisturbed sleep tonight," Harry answered, narrowing his eyes at the last part.
"No promises!" You jokingly answered.
Tobi, Ethan and Harry said they were going out for an early dinner since it was about half-four. Which meant you and Cal were left alone with all the booze.
When Harry returned home about six hours later he saw that the bottles of Wray and Nephews, Glens and Rose Wine had been left empty on the couch.
"I should've sated over at Tobi's tonight!" He whispered full of regret.
"Hey Harry!" You slurred, hanging onto Cal's arm, the bottle of Sambuca near empty in your grasp.
"Y/N, Cal." He responded slightly concerned before turning and walking into his bedroom, "please, no shagging tonight!"
"Aw! That's what we were about to go do!" Cal shouted, leaning down to kiss my jawline.
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sisosign2 · 10 months
Text
Teenage Dirtbags 👊 || Richie Toizer
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Warnings: Drug use, Alcohol use, Drug dealing, Mentions of Neglecting/Abuse, Bullying, Cheating, Fighting and Implied sex
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||Little backstory, skip down if you don't want to read though it may get confusing if you don't.||
Y/n is a drug dealer, only a certain few people know she is because she's good at hiding it with her daddy's little princess persona, although there's more than meets the eye to this drug dealing princess.
She gives Richie discount deals varying from making out to hooking up, Richie uses it his advantage since he has no problem doing this with her.
ꕥ Story Starts Here ↴ ꕥ
Richie walked down the hall looking for Y/n, he stopped at he locker and waited for her to arrive. "What are you doing here?" He heard her say, he looked up at saw her opening her locker. "I'm out." He told her, looking up at her with a desperate look. "Already? I gave you a whole bunch three days ago." She said confused by how he could smoke that much in such a short amount of time. "Well, to be fair, I had to share with six other losers." He said standing up, she looked at him with a grumpy look. "This is totally unfair! I undersell you, I give you a massive discount and you've been sharing my product?!" She complained, placing her hands on her hips, he smirked. "To be fair, you were the one who came up with the discount deal." He said shrugging slyly, as if he didn't enjoy it himself, she rolled her eyes. "Fine. How much do you want?" She asked, reaching into her locker. "How much can ya do for... twenty bucks plus the discount deal?" He asked, handing her the cash, she handed him about thirty grams of weed in a little bag, all ground down and ready to go. "Thank you~" he said sing-songily, kissing her cheek. "Yeah, yeah, whatever, I'll see you after school." She said, shooing him away before her boyfriend comes over, Richie chuckled and left with the weed in his pocket.
ꕥ After School ꕥ
Richie waited at his car, lighting one of his cigarettes while he waited, He looked over at Y/n with her boyfriend, he had walked her to the bus stop that she'd 'catch the bus' from, her boyfriend walked back Richie and glared at him. "Fuckin' loser." Her boyfriend said, Richie chuckled and watched him get in his car and drive off, he looked over where Y/n was and saw her running over. "Hey dollface..." He said softly, opening the car door for her. "God I hate him." She said, talking about her boyfriend, Richie laughed as he got in offering her the rest of his cigarette, she took it gratefully. "Why are you dating him?" He asked as he pulled out of the car park, she groaned and put the cigarette butt in the ashtray in his car. "It's all apart of the persona my friend." She said giggling as he placed his hand on her thigh. "So tell me, who are the other six people you share your stash with?" She asked, looking at him. "Oh hmm, Bill, Ben, Eds, Bev, Stan and Mike." He said, rubbing her thigh softly as he drove, she hummed in response leaning back in her seat.
They got to his house and went inside, his parents weren't there like always, they headed upstairs and hung out for a bit before they began making out, it lasted a good twenty minutes before things started to go further at they stopped. He started to roll the weed into joints for later, making one for himself to have know. "Y'know, you should learn to roll joints, that way you could have an option to have ready made joints or just ground up weed." He said as he took a long hit of his joint, offering it to her, she took a hit too, exhaling hers before him. "How the fuck did you even learn, isn't it illegal to post shit about how?" She asked, choking slightly, he chuckled and pet her head. "I have my ways." He said sluggishly, she rested her head on his shoulder. "Teach me then." She said quietly, watching him roll the joints, he taught her how and got her to make one, she did pretty good for her first try, his room was pretty smoky by the time they finished, he got up to open a window when there was a knock on his door.
She stood up and went into his bathroom, spraying herself with perfume and putting mints in her mouth, he opened the window and went downstairs to answer the door, it was his friends, he had forgotten that he had invited them over to smoke, Y/n stood at the stairs with her backpack, ready to leave when Beverly stopped her. "You didn't tell us you were friends with daddy's little girl." Beverly said smirking, Y/n rolled her eyes, readjusting the strap of her bag on her shoulder. "Y/n's cool, you just don't know her how I do." Richie said, wrapping his arm around her shoulder while Beverly laughed. "W-w-why don't you s-s-stay? You c-could hang o-out w-with us i-if you want." Bill said, smiling softly, Y/n looked at Richie who nodded. "Y-yeah, sure." Y/n said quietly, they all went into the living room, Richie brought the joints in and sat next to Y/n, sharing one with her again. "Wait, so are you two hooking up or something?" Mike asked, he wasn't smoking since he was the designated driver for everyone. "Well, let's just say, Y/n and I are close." Richie said chuckling, wrapping an arm around her.
"Dude, where do you get this shit, it's so good." Beverly asked, taking a long drag, Richie laughed softly. "Like I said last time, my secret seller." He said shrugging, Y/n giggled. "Hey dollface, why don't you go get the rest of the weed up in my room and roll them for me." He said to her, slipping a 20 bill in her pocket, meaning he wanted to buy more, she nodded and took a little baggie from her bag, going upstairs and grabbing the paper he uses made of hemp, she brought them down and started rolling them. "Thanks toots~" He said teasingly, chuckling as he played with her hair, after he smoked some more and he began to get higher than he could handle. "Oi, Oi, sweet cheeks!" He called out to Y/n, chuckling as she blushed. "How strong is this stuff?" He asked, whispering it in her ear. "I dunno, pretty strong." She said shrugging, he pulled her close and sighed "I don't think I can drive you home, you should just stay over." He said, being way too dramatic. "Oh please, you're not that high." She said, squishing his cheeks softly, he chuckled and leaned over to kiss her but stopped when he remembered his friends were here so he pretended she had an eyelash on her cheek.
"Oh hey guys, there's a party tonight later at like nine, should we go check it out?" Eddie asked, everyone nodded, Y/n looked at the time and got up to call her parents, she told them she was staying at her friends house to work on a school project. "Ohhh~ lying to the parents?" Beverly said from behind her, Y/n smiled nervously. "So what? She does it all the time, you should heard the lie she told when we-" Richie started, getting cut off by Y/n covering his mouth. "I'm gonna go change." Y/n said quickly, walking upstairs to Richie's room, she had extra clothes in his closet in case she needed them. She put on a white sundress with pink flowers and a pink cardigan, fixing her frilly socks and buckling up her Mary Janes, she stood up and looked over at the door, seeing Richie smirking. "You nearly exposed us." She said quietly, he shrugged and grabbed her hips. "I don't mind." He said, kissing her softly, the group left and went to the party.
ꕥ At the party ꕥ
They all walked in and split up Y/n ended up getting lost in the crowd of people and went to get a drink finding Richie at the table. "There you are, I thought I lost you." He said chuckling, she smiled shyly and got herself a drink, she chose a nonalcoholic drink since she didn't want to get drunk like most of the people at the party. There was a loud crash and someone grabbed her waist, she turned around to see her boyfriend. "Hey baby~" He slurred, clearly drunk. "Oh uh, hey babe..." She said quietly, her boyfriend looked between her and Richie. "What are you doing with this loser?" He slurred, pulling her towards himself while Richie looked at him slyly. "Richie? Oh uh, he's my partner in the science project so I was talking to him about the project." She lied, Richie smirked, she was such a pretty liar. "Okay, well here, have some of my drink." Her boyfriend said smirking, Y/n had an off feeling about it but she didn't want to upset him so she drank it, it was horribly bitter and terribly strong.
"It's good." She lied again, taking a sip of the much sweeter drink she had. After a while she started getting dizzy, she thought it was just because of her drink being too sweet, she went to get water but passed out before she could. Her boyfriend picked her up and went to take her upstairs when Richie stopped him. "What did you do to her?!" He shouted, trying to get Y/n away from him. "It's none of your business, get out of the fucking way." Her boyfriend said, shoving him, Richie ended up punching him and Y/n was put down while the two boy fought. They both got all bloody and bruised but Richie was losing, her boyfriend was much larger since he was a stupid jock. The fight was still going when Y/n finally woke up, she got in between the boys, ending in her getting hit by her boyfriend, Richie instantly punch her boyfriend square in the nose before helping her up. They went back to his house and she began to tend to his cuts, scrapes and bruises. "He drugged you Y/n..." Richie mumbled, not making eye contact, she smiled softly and kissed his forehead. "Thank you, for keeping me safe." She said softly, hugging him gently.
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sunshinereddie · 1 year
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beverly meeting mrs tozier for the first time after the pennywise summer. she’s a little nervous, especially considering how mrs. kaspbrak had acted towards her when they had met for the first time. stan, bill, and eddie reassure her that mrs tozier is the nicest woman bev will ever meet, but she’s still nervous. after all, they aren’t the ones with those... rumors being spread about them by all the gossipers in town. 
but when she goes over to richie’s house with the rest of the losers and mrs tozier opens up the door, beverly thinks that she at least looks a lot friendlier than mrs. kaspbrak. she has a warm smile on her face, her hair is curly and messy just like richie’s, and she greets each and every one of the losers with a big hug, asking them how they’re doing. 
beverly is standing at the back of the group. after mrs tozier gives stan a hug and comments on how tall he’s getting and makes him promise to tell his mother hello for her, her eyes fall on the final friend of the group, to beverly. bev is expecting her friendliness to fade when it’s her turn... but it doesn’t. 
instead... it only seems to grow. all the boys head inside, and maggie tozier extends her arms outwards for a hug. “and you must be beverly,” she says. “it’s so nice to finally meet you, i’ve heard all about you from richie.” (queue richie’s embarrassed “MOOOM” from inside the house). beverly isn’t big on hugs, especially from adults, and mrs tozier seems to pick up on her uneasiness rather quickly. without a change in her expression, mrs tozier lowers her arms and instead gently places a hand on beverly’s shoulder. 
“please, come inside,” she says gently. “i’ve just made a batch of cookies, and if you want any you’ll need to hurry before my son gets to them.” beverly nods, and with a smile she walks into the house. 
beverly’s never felt safe in a home that she’s lived in before. for as long as she can remember, she’s always felt fear when at home, always on edge, always prepared for something to go wrong. but now, when she’s sitting in the tozier’s living room with all her friends, being served cookies and hot chocolate by mrs tozier, who doesn’t get mad when beverly makes a small spill on the carpet, who doesn’t get mad when richie laughs loudly, who doesn’t get mad when eddie asks for seconds of his hot chocolate... beverly thinks maybe this could be a place where she could feel safe. in a warm home, with her friends, with an adult who doesn’t want to hurt her. 
the losers hang out at richie’s house a lot more often after that summer.
___
of course maggie tozier knows the rumors. it’s hard not to, in a town like derry, where the women can’t help themselves from gossiping in line at the grocery store or over coffee or while waiting to pick their kids up from school. 
of course maggie has heard the rumors of beverly marsh... and it makes her sick. it makes her sick to think that these grown adults have nothing better to do with their time than to whisper these stories about a little girl, instead of doing something about it. that they’d all rather gossip and giggle to themselves like they’re in high school, than do something to help. 
and so when she sees beverly marsh on her doorstep for the first time, her offers all of her love and her comfort and her protection, hoping that maybe she can be the one to help save this child from all of the horrible things this town and its people have done to her. 
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No More Hiding
Things get a little uncertain for Father Paul and you, after you are caught red handed by no one other than Beverly Keane.
Requested by anonymous
I'm back and I am healthy (almost). I got a bit out of practice, so this may be a little wonky, but I hope you'll forgive me :) Also, please check out this post, I am open to some nsft Father Paul content, teehee.
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No More Hiding - 3.7K
tw: suggestive themes (mention), humanising Beverly Keane, cheesy as heck, a lot of triple dots
What is it with priests on Crockett Island? Beverly thought, gravel crunching underneath her feet as she walked away from Saint Patrick’s church hastily. Bev Keane was a lot of things, but stupid wasn’t one of them - she was aware there was some funny business going on with the young priest who arrived on Crockett almost a year ago and that writer lady, but she could never be entirely sure. Until today, that is. Bev felt a fresh wave of anger as she remembered the scene she witnessed no more than ten minutes ago.
How could she have forgotten her bag? Bev shook her head at herself. She went home after wrapping up the daily mass on Saturday, and when she tried to reach into her handbag to pull out the keys to her home, she froze. There was nothing hanging on her shoulder. How did she not notice? In her head she suddenly saw the image of her bag, sitting on a table in the back of the church, entirely forgotten. With a sigh and an eye roll, Bev turned around and began walking towards Saint Patrick’s again.
She entered through the back door, and immediately saw her canvas bag, exactly where she’d left it. After grabbing it, Beverly was just about to go home again, but then:
A giggle.
A soft, feminine giggle sounded from the main room of Saint Patrick’s. Curious as to what’s going on there, The teacher crept towards the door leading to the front and put her hand against the handle. Very, very slowly, she pushed it and pulled the door open, just a little. She peeked out. The sight before her shook her to the core and Bev felt fury immediately settling in.
Sitting in a pew closest to the altar was Father Paul, still in his green chasuble, and next to him was (F/N)(L/N). Which, Beverly supposed, would be fine, if the priest (the PRIEST for goodness sake!) wasn’t currently pushing his tongue into her mouth and her hands weren’t messing up his raven hair. The teacher was frozen to the spot as she watched the two people exchanging passionate kisses, sometimes producing soft pleasured hums. What finally snapped Bev out of her shock was the sight of Father Paul’s hand settling on (F/N)’s knee, before pushing her skirt up as it moved forward onto her thigh.
Beverly pushed the door open all the way and coughed loudly. With malicious satisfaction she watched the couple practically jump away from each other and turn their heads in her direction, their eyes widening in horror. “B-Bev?!” yelped the priest, his face turning red, as did the young woman’s. “T-this- this isn’t what it looks like!” his hand, which left the girl’s thigh was now outstretched towards Beverly in a surrendering manner. Despite the furious storm within her, the teacher felt strangely calm as she took calculated steps towards the couple.
“Father, if you insist on indulging yourself in breaking your holy vows, it’d be nice if you had at least enough respect not to do so in God’s house,” she said, her voice cold as ice, her expression stony. The priest coughed: “Bev I-...W-we were just-” “ Don’t! Don’t… ” the teacher hissed and began walking off through the front of the church,clutching her bag in a vice grip. She shut the door with a bang.
Father Paul watched Beverly leave and winced as the old wooden doors banged shut. You then saw him wilt before your eyes. He put his elbows on his knees and placed his face in his hands. Your own hand found his shoulder and began stroking it, trying to comfort him, despite knowing that not even your touch would be able to comfort him now. Still, the priest leaned into your hand and soon raised his head to hide his face in your neck instead. You slowly stroked the hair at the nape of his neck.
“We’re screwed,” said Paul against your skin, his voice soft and tired. “Yeah,” you whispered back.
Bev’s idea of going home was long forgotten as she stalked across Crockett Island, glaring daggers at everyone who dared as much as acknowledge her, the teacher was seething with rage. What was it with priests on Crockett Island? She knew the old Monsignor Pruitt hadn’t exactly been celibate either, and that the island’s doctor Sarah Gunning had been the result. She found out during one of Monsignor’s episodes, when he’d weep softly and call for Mildred, apologising for not having been there for her. For their daughter.
Back then, she acknowledged this, not knowing how she felt about it. On one hand, the Monsignor went against his vows, sired a child who was then raised by a different man, and obviously never stopped lusting for said man’s wife. On the other hand, what was there to be done now? The Monsignor was old and frail, dementia claiming his mind little by little, and Mildred Gunning? Well, she was in no better state. George Gunning was long gone and Sarah was a grown woman, who grew up in a happy family with a loving mother and father, blissfully oblivious she was the illegitimate child of their local priest.
However, it was different now. God, Bev wished she hadn’t forgotten her bag in the morning. Suspecting something fishy is going on is better than actually knowing it - makes it easier to ignore. But now she knew. She knew Father Paul, a priest who was supposed to be Crockett Island’s spiritual leader, image of morality and virtue, was fornicating with a heathen, a faithless woman, who like a succubus seduced the holy man to sin.
Bev was already forming a plan in her head, a plan to inform the dioceses about the blasphemy happening right there in God’s house, if not to outright get the priest excommunicated, to at least stop this illicit affair. But then she heard a sound behind her, a girl’s high-pitched laughter. She turned around.
What she saw made her stop. It was Leeza Scarborough, laughing and squealing as she drove circles around Warren Flynn on his own bicycle. The youngest Flynn was looking at her fondly, his gaze filled with pride: “I told you you could do it!” Oh… Leeza regained the feeling in her legs during one of Father Paul’s sermons. Since then, she came out of her shell so much, yet she still remained a good, devoted Christian, never missing a single daily mass. She was smiling and laughing more, but still she prayed harder than anyone else. She even found it in her heart to forgive Joe Collie, the man who crippled her in the first place! Beverly would never!
Speaking of Joe Collie, Bev only now realised she was standing a short distance away from the general store, where said man was currently chatting up their Muslim sheriff. After Leeza forgave the town drunk, he… he actually stopped drinking. He began attending the AA sessions Father Paul started, along with Riley Flynn, and while Bev was sure he was bound to relapse, to her utmost surprise he actually stayed sober since then. He looked a little different, his clothes were cleaner, his hair and beard neater. He even started working again, on one of the fishing boats. He looked like he dropped a few pounds too. The biggest change was his face. He too was smiling more.
Bev bit her lip, deep in thought, reminiscing of the past year. Since Father Paul came to the Island, there was a change in atmosphere. After Leeza’s recovery, it was like a religious renaissance had happened. The church was usually nearly full on Sundays and more people started attending daily mass as well, Bev had to start ordering more than double the usual amount of communion wine and hosts, and even had to get some low-gluten wafers after several inquiries. Some of the people who moved away after the spill actually came back to their old homes, because the fishermen began returning from the sea with full nets of fish and crabs, just like they used to many years ago. The community was blooming.
The teacher looked around. In the gazebo of Crockett Island’s little park sat Riley Flynn with Erin Greene and her daughter… Their daughter, essentially. The child wasn’t Riley’s, yet he treated her as his own, loved her as his own blood. He moved into the Greene home and Annie even mentioned once that Erin was in the middle of divorcing her ‘nasty work of a husband’ so she could marry Riley instead, so they could become a proper family once and for all. The little girl, whom Riley Flynn was currently bouncing on his knee, had two godparents, and since only one of them had to be a practising catholic, it was Ed Flynn and the other was nobody else than (F/N)(L/N).
(F/N) had also started to help out in the school, taking upon herself some of Erin’s classes so the woman could focus on her little girl. The children actually really liked her. Bev would often hear laughter from the other classroom and most of the kids left it with a smile on their faces. When she wasn’t helping Erin, she was usually helping someone else, assisting Sturge in some maintenance work, helping Annie with inventory in the general store, even joining the Flynn men for a few fishing trips! Bev saw her once at the docks, and had to admit the young woman looked quite the natural in her work clothes.
Her previously malevolent intentions turned into conflicting thoughts. Beverly had to sit down. In a much slower pace, she finally walked home. Bev’s home wasn’t exactly filled with many decorations or personal effects. There were a few photos here and there, of her parents and her, when she was a little girl. There was a photo with Monsignor Pruitt, where she was bracing him by the arm, smiling into the camera. The older priest had his hand gently placed against hers, a kind smile on his own face. Bev rather missed the old man.
Despite the fact that the Monsignor too succumbed to the temptation of flesh, he never stopped being a good priest. And a good man. He never once refused to offer a helping hand, he was always ready to be of support. He was a rock for Beverly when she lost her parents, much too early. She could rely on him when she was all alone, when she had nobody else. Maybe that’s what really drove her to church so much… Most things in her house were of religious theme, verses were framed on her walls, there were crucifixes placed throughout the entire home, Bev only had records of gospel music laid by the old record player which belonged to her mother.
Beverly sat down in her armchair, the room so quiet  one could hear a pin drop. The truth was that Father Paul, despite his immoral indulgence in carnal desires, was still a good priest. He took care of his parish, took care of his flock. Always ready to help and provide support… just like the Monsignor.
And (F/N)? Beverly scoffed unhappily. As much as she wasn’t fond of the girl and the fact she seduced a holy man, she had to admit that (F/N) was… a part of Crockett Island now. She came when everyone else left, this was her home, and the people accepted her as their own. She was popular. Beverly was not, she was aware of that. She knew that most people only tolerated her because she played such a big part in the church, and because she taught their children. She didn’t have friends, or a family, but she had this. And that was good enough for her.
However, if she were to… if she were to report Father Paul Hill to the dioceses, if she managed to actually get him out of Crockett Island… She probably wouldn’t be tolerated anymore… No, Beverly would be hated . There was a big possibility the people would be more willing to accept an uncelibate priest whom they adored, rather than have this beloved priest taken away. And God knows who’d take his place then? If it came down to taking sides, Bev had no qualms that people would actually take hers and not Father Paul’s. She’d then drop lower than Joe Collie, who was slowly but surely gaining more sympathy ever since he became sober. She’d be the town pariah. Not Joe, not Riley, but Beverly .
She put her face into her hands. Was she going to actually ignore this? Was she really just going to let them continue committing sins? Then again… everyone sinned, didn’t they? To sin was human after all, and the heavenly father forgives all those who try to make amends. And Father Paul and (F/N)(L/N)... they made amends constantly by all the work they put into this small community… The teacher sighed deeply. She supposed she could try to just … ignore it. She didn’t agree with what they were doing, but she could ignore it, for the sake of everyone else… Speaking of everyone else, Beverly wondered who else knew of this little affair. Erin Greene? Possibly, her and (F/N) were joined at the hip. And if Erin knew, then Riley Flynn maybe knew as well. Who else?
It was decided then. Bev looked up and released another deep sigh. In a way, she felt… lighter? Calmer? What was with this feeling of acceptance? She should still be angry, she should be hating every moment she allows this to continue, but she just wasn’t. In a way, she was… content. It was better for Crockett Island if Father Paul stayed, and, well, Bev reluctantly supposed it was better if (F/N) stayed too. She didn’t even realise the corners of her lips were turning up slightly. Sighing for the last time, she got up from her chair and walked to the record player. Maybe there were still some of her mother's old records somewhere, Bev thought, maybe she could use some non-gospel music for a little change.
Any day now, you and Paul expected some nasty letter from the dioceses, or maybe a surprise visit from the bishop. Or a phone call, inquiring whether it was true that the priest was in a forbidden affair with a woman.. But nothing happened. You haven’t really discussed what would happen to your relationship, because the thought was too terrifying, but you became so much more careful about it. You didn’t dare to touch one another unless you were in the rectory or your house, doors locked and curtains closed. You wouldn’t hold each other’s hand during walks, you didn’t feel safe expressing any physical affection even in front of the friends who knew of your relationship.
It sucked, not being able to snuggle up to the priest when you were outside in the woods, definitely alone, but unwilling to take any risks. You missed his warmth, the smell of him when he held you close, you missed the stolen kisses. You wouldn't even go to the Uppards, even though you’d never be caught there, especially by Beverly. It sucked.
On the other hand, you learned how to show affection in public through other ways. Like a deep look into each other’s eyes and a single slow blink - like a quick peck on the lips. A smile and head slightly cocked to the side - an ‘I love you’. It wasn’t the real thing, but it was lovely nonetheless. A week passed, then two and… nothing. No letters, no phone calls, no visits. In fact, it was very quiet. The priest served his homilies as usual, Bev helped him as she always did. She talked to him and treated him the same as ever, as if she never caught the two of you, as if it had all been a bad dream.
Yet, the two of you remained cautious, always checking over your shoulder. By the third week, you were going mad. As you lay in your bed, mind for once calm and quiet after a tender lovemaking, with Paul drawing little patterns on your bare back with his fingertips, you suddenly spoke: “We should talk to her.” “Hm?” asked Paul, and turned his head a little to look at you. “To Bev,” you clarified. Paul sighed and closed his arms around you. “Why?” he asked finally. You adjusted yourself in his hold and rested your chin on his collarbone to look into his eyes: “Well, it’s been a while. If she told someone, the dioceses… they would’ve been here by now, wouldn’t they? Or call, at least? She’d be smug about it, I think. But she’s, you know… normal. Well Bev-normal anyway.”
Paul nodded and closed his eyes. “Hm… That’s going to be very uncomfortable,” he said at last. You pulled yourself up to press a kiss against his perfect mouth, making him smile softly. “Yeah… but we’ll face it together.”
It was… very very awkward. You were sitting on the uncomfortable metal chairs in the recreation centre, you and Paul next to each other, Beverly Keane opposite of you. You were so nervous. The priest grabbed your hand, which was gripping your knee painfully, in silent support. Bev frowned for a bit, but didn’t say anything. You took a deep breath, it was now or never. “Miss Keane, we wanted to talk to you about what you saw in Saint Patrick’s some time ago. There’s no point in lying. What you saw was exactly what it looked like, Father Paul and I, we… we’re lovers. And have for a long time.” Paul nodded next to you and squeezed your hand tighter.
Beverly nodded as well: “I’ve gathered as much. Why are we here?” You swallowed in nervousness and took a breath to answer, but Paul beat you to it: “You are a very devout woman, Beverly. I am breaking my vows. Yet, you still… help me in church, you treat the two of us the same… You didn’t tell anyone?” Bev’s eyes were piercing, you felt quite tiny under her scrutinising gaze. Finally, she looked down at her hands which were neatly folded in her lap: “No, I didn’t… Not really for your sake, though. I don’t approve of this. I didn’t tell anyone because… Crockett Island relies on you, Father. And, to a certain amount, on you as well (F/N)(L/N). I will keep quiet about this… However, you must know that if I… caught you, someone else will too, eventually. So you may, at the very least, attempt to be… decent.”
You bit your lip. Bev was right, it was only a matter of time before the relationship would be found out. But then again, you didn’t think there were that many people left to find out. Over the months, you received more and more knowing looks, from both friends and acquaintances. One time a woman named Betty, who ran the island’s teeny-tiny beauty salon and attended Sunday masses pulled you aside to tell you what a lucky woman you were, having a good looking man like that. In fact, the only person you were seriously hiding your love from was currently promising she’ll keep her mouth shut about it. It was nearly surreal.
After some more awkward and uncomfortable talking, during which you revealed to Beverly that your relationship began after the Easter vigil (by which she was surprised, since she suspected something was going on much earlier), you parted ways in a rather civil manner. As you left the rec centre, Paul took your hand in his right away, leading you to the woods for a stroll. You smiled and leaned into him, thankful to feel his warmth again.
Over the following weeks, you settled back into your routine, except you were way more relaxed. Someone saw you holding hands, or sharing an embrace and a kiss from time to time, but they never once commented on it. Well, most of the time. One time you pressed a kiss to Paul’s cheek when you thought you were alone, in front of the general store, just to hear a wolf-whistle behind you. “Knew it,” came Joe Collie’s voice, as he left the shop and walked away jovially, Pike following behind him with a wagging tail. “He didn’t know shit,” said sheriff Hassan, leaning against the doorframe, “I knew, though.” You stuck your tongue out at him, making Paul chuckle.
Hard to believe it had been a year already, you thought as you stood by the gazebo, a sooty cross drawn on your forehead. There were more people attending the Crock Pot Luck this year, as the town’s population grew slightly. You observed them fondly, feeling at peace. Feeling utterly home. One year ago exactly, you were sitting at one of the tables, sipping wine and chatting with Father Paul. Back then, you only ever allowed yourself to think of him in secret, today he lived in your mind rent-free and you were far from being mad about it.
Speaking of Father Paul, a pair of long arms wrapped themselves around your waist from behind and soft lips brushed against the back of your neck. You smiled and put your hands over his. He came around, keeping one arm around you and pulled you close for a real kiss. And what a kiss it was, sweet and passionate at the same time, and it filled your heart with utmost joy. When you pulled back, you noticed a number of people looking at the two of you. Some of them had a knowing expression and a smile on their faces, some were wide eyed, but said nothing. Others simply returned to minding their own business. Bev Keane was one of the latter. You smiled at your lover and he mirrored you.
“No more hiding, huh? You asked quietly. His smile grew: “No more hiding.” You stroked his smooth cheek. “The secrecy was kind of thrilling though,” you teased. The priest chuckled, “we can do a little bit of hiding, as a treat,” he promised. You giggled airily and pressed one more kiss to his lips before grabbing his hand and leading him to one of the tables.
No more hiding.
Hello again! Hope it wasn’t that horrible lol. You can check out this story and the entire series on AO3. Thank you for being patient with me <3 
Tagged: @i-was-ok-then-i-saw-hamish​
I will feed you a sugarcube and scratch your head for feedback ;-;
Also, please, if you're on insta, go and report account named 32181045, who hacked Hamish's account, got Hamish deleted and gloats about it in their stories.
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