#and if you wanted to try something on the ladies just held a curtain while you changed since there was no changing rooms

[ayakashibackstreet]

I miss going to that one big indoor market, where you could get everything from handmade sweaters and Modern Talking cassette tapes to shady perfume and pirated video games :(

[eddiemunsonw]

Snow Storm

Steve Harrington x Fem!reader

Summary: You're on a 'date'. Sort of. You're really not feeling it, especially when you realize that the guy has been lying. Steve, witnessing it all during his shift at Family Video, is more than happy to meddle a little.

CW/Disclaimer: Hmmmm things start to get a little heated and sexy but nothing too dramatic. So... idk. Mention of porn?

Author's note: I have a tendency to post fics out of their season, it seems

Words: 3435

Steve’s POV

He watched as your eyes followed the section of horror movies slowly, scanning each title to try and remember if you had seen them before. Next to you, a guy stood impatiently as he eyed the curtain that separated the adult section. Steve watched with interest, as it was all that was currently happening in the store apart from a regular who looked into the slapstick classics on the other side.

“Come on, I just wanna see.”

The guy sighed, nudged you with his arm. You were having none of it and Steve couldn’t help but wear an amused smile. Eventually, when you had picked out two movies, you followed him towards the curtain. Steve, feeling particularly menacing today, quickly left the counter and approached the curtain just in time.

“Hello there! ID’s please.”

He held his hand open and you took it out immediately, showing that you were 23, a year younger than he was. When the guy handed it over with some reluctance, his curiosity piqued.

“Oof, sorry dude, can’t let you in. It’s 21+”

“What? Since when?” the guy responded, but Steve clocked something much more interesting.

“Clark… You said you were 24. Jesus this is why I never wanna say my age first,” you groaned and rolled your eyes. Steve bit down on his lip to stop himself from smiling, but it was too hard not to.

“Damn, why’d you have to lie to the lady? That’s not cool,” Steve added on.

Your POV

“You weren’t supposed to know. Now come on,” Clark mumbled and attempted to pass the curtain but Steve quickly moved in between, the smooth glide of his body grabbing your attention.

“Still a no, Bud.”

You were already tired of his pushy behavior earlier, so while Steve had him occupied, you entered the adult section. You didn’t even want to go in there, but it was better than staying.

“Grab some deepthroating! And some lesbian porn?”

Steve’s POV

Steve shook his head at him as he leaned against the wall right next to the curtain.

“Jesus, dude. Are you trying to make her run away from you even harder?”

“Shut up,” Clark grumbled, side eyeing him with annoyance.

“Hm, no,” Steve said, a small smile on his face. “Not for a pipsqueak like you.”

“Oh fuck off, says the failed jock whose daddy no longer funds him so he has to do a shitty job like this one, the highlight of his day being to be a total asshole to a guy trying to have sex with a girl.”

Steve stared ahead of him, taking a deep inhale before replying.

“Yeah. Sure. That’s a neat description of you and me both. Emphasis on the trying.”

“The day’s not over yet.”

“Oh but it is, pipsqueak. Cause you’re gonna turn around and leave now.”

They looked at each other, eyes dark and challenging. Steve wasn’t sure what came over him. He just knew that he needed to do you the favor of getting rid of him.

“The hell I am,” Clark bristled.

Steve chuckled darkly. Woah, when did he become this super villain huh? Hmm. Interesting.

“Oh you are. She wants you gone and so do I.”

“You don’t know shit about what she wants.”

“Let me go ask,” Steve said as his hand lazily slid the curtain aside. “What’s her name again?” he asked, pretending like he hadn’t checked your name on your ID. He didn’t wait for his answer and walked behind the curtain despite his protests. This, however, made him miss out on the emergency alert on the radio.

“We interrupt your favorite tunes for an important message. The blizzard is getting worse. If you haven’t yet, go home. Chances are you won’t be able to if you wait much longer.”

Clark, however, did. Besides, he wasn’t that much of an idiot. He knew he had lost his chances with you the moment he tried to get you to grab his favorite porn videos. Whatever.

Your POV

“So… see anything you like?”

His voice startled you, but at the same time it was met with relief from your end that it wasn’t Clark. Steve slowly walked closer and quickly noticed you didn’t seem interested in any of it in the slightest and chuckled.

“Or are you just planning to stay here forever until he leaves?”

You shrugged.

“Something like that. Also, you don’t just ask a lady about her favorite porn, Harrington.”

Delighted by your response, he cocked his hip against the wall as he crossed his arms with a grin.

“I mean… we both already know Clark’s…” Steve said jokingly, earning a smile from you.

“All men are the same,” you sighed. Steve pouted and scanned the titles for something interesting.

“You say that now but… wait until you find out that my favorite is actually… Granny getting a— nope, nope, forget I started that sentence,” Steve said quickly as he put back the tape he just had in his hands.

“All the grannies over the world are crying right now,” you said sadly, a smile on your lips.

“Too bad, I’ve set my eye on girls who actually are the age they say they are.”

“I’ll admit that’s the most interesting belated opening line I’ve ever heard,” you said dryly.

“As long as it catches your intrigue, I’m satisfied,” Steve said with a playful, cocky grin.

You grabbed a tape and smirked, holding it out for him.

“So I’m guessing you don’t need yourself a… Satisfyer 2.0, then?” You asked, holding up the tape which had sensual “instructions” for a vibrator.

Steve laughed and shook his head.

“These satisfy just fine,” Steve said, holding up his hands. Your mind drifted off to what he could do with those big hands. Not just to himself but to—

“… left?”

Steve had apparently just asked you a question.

“Huh?”

He smirked and nodded towards the curtain.

“I think he left. Just heard the bell above the door.”

“Maybe someone came in though…” you wondered out loud.

“Maybe. I’ll go check.” He spun on his heel and approached the curtain when—

“Wait—” It was out before you knew it. Steve halted, turned back around and looked at you patiently.

“Yeah?”

“If he is in fact not gone, can you… get rid of him somehow? I normally wouldn’t ask but he’s just such a—”

“Dick.”

“Yeah…” You smiled a small smile and watched as he approached you again. His eyes were on you, taking in even the smallest changes in your expression.

“So is he like… your boyfriend?” Steve asked softly. “Or uh, was?”

You chuckled and shook your head.

“Nah, this was the second date which I had reluctantly agreed to.”

“Why’d you say yes?” Steve asked curiously. He followed your movement as you skimmed some more tapes and smiled at the playfully quipped corner of your mouth. “I mean, it didn’t look like you wanted to be here.”

“I didn’t. I just… I kind of never said yes but he just showed up on my doorstep and then I felt too bad to not go with him, so… yeah. Didn’t know he had plans to rent some porn and spend the second date in his bedroom or whatever.”

Steve crossed his arms and nodded thoughtfully.

“Hmmh… yeah that sucks. Well, I’ll make sure there won’t be a next time,” he said as he shortly winked at you and once again turned on his heel, this time actually continuing his walk through the curtain. He was out there for a few minutes when he turned back with a frown.

“Uh… Y/N? We’ve got a little… hiccup.”

You approached him with a frown of your own and followed him to the front, unsure what to expect. What you certainly didn’t expect, was to see a snow storm going on outside.

“Apparently there’s a code red. Just heard a repeat of it on the radio but it keeps breaking up. They urge everyone to stay inside until it’s over.”

Steve stuffed his hands into his pockets and stared ahead. It was the worst storm he had ever witnessed and the fact that nothing had seemed to be going on apart from some gentle snowfall surprised him.

“Stay… here?” you asked eventually.

“I mean, yeah? You can’t drive in this weather, it’s too dangerous. So is walking. So…”

“But I can’t just…”

“Hey, I don’t bite,” Steve said softly, nudging your arm with his own. “Besides, Clark seems to have left after all. Maybe he heard the warning and decided to bolt? If so, very nice to let us know as well but I will say that I wasn’t nice to him, so…”

You smirked.

“What did you say to him?”

“Nothing, nothing. I mean, genuinely, I didn’t say much. Just that he had to fuck off, using different wording. He didn’t seem all that ready to leave when I went to look for you though.”

“Oh well, good riddance.”

“Agreed.”

Steve walked forward and locked the door, putting the closed sign up front just in case.

“Let’s go to the back, it’s warmer there. And there’s a coffee machine.”

And so your “Stuck at Family Video with heartthrob Steve Harrington” began.

Once you were settled around the table in the break room, Steve gave you an odd glance. It was hard to figure out what he meant by it, although his frown disappeared the moment he got up from his chair.

“Coffee? Tea? I think we even got a few of those instant hot choc packages,” he offered, his back already turned to you as he searched the cabinets.

“Oh, hot chocolate sounds nice actually. Is it just me or is it… still kinda cold, even here?” you asked hesitantly. Steve nodded ruefully and grabbed two mugs from the cabinet he was currently facing.

“Ah, yeah… it looks like the heating is struggling again. I could kick it to see if it helps but… chances are it’ll get worse.”

“How could it get worse?”

Steve shrugged.

“Beats me, but I’m speaking from experience. Sometimes it does the trick and other times it really, really doesn’t.”

“Let’s not risk it then. At least we have a warm drink, right?”

Steve nodded and grabbed the kettle. You watched him busy himself with putting it on, emptying the hot chocolate powder and grabbing two spoons. He was humming along softly to whichever song he seemed to have stuck in his head and shot you a smile when he caught you looking.

“So what do you usually—”

Suddenly, the room turned pitch dark. You heard Steve swear softly when he shuffled back towards the table and bumped into a chair.

“Uh… okay. That’s… kind of a problem,” he mumbled as he managed to sit back down. “No hot choc I guess, sorry. No… heating either. Maybe we should check how the weather’s doing?” he opted.

“Yeah, sure.”

There was a small strip of light seeping in from the doorway, slowly turning brighter as you adjusted to your surroundings again. Warm fingers teased your arm before your wrist was grabbed and Steve helped you up. As he opened the door, the brightness of the snow outside was almost blinding. The thin windows made it a lot colder at the front, making you shiver as you watched the outside. It wasn’t just snow anymore, as heavy hail rained down, large enough to leave dents into cars. Steve groaned and let go of your wrist.

“Let me check if I can get the power back on,” he mumbled, more to himself than to you. He grabbed a flashlight from below the counter and went to the back again. After a few minutes, he returned, looking apologetic.

“Sorry, nothing. I guess it’s my fault you’re stuck here, huh?” he sighed. “If I hadn’t bothered Clark as much you’d be on your way already. Or if I just… I don’t know. Sorry, I guess.”

“It’s not your fault the weather decided to fuck us over, Steve,” you said with a soft smile which he returned with some hesitance. “What do you usually do for fun around here?”

Steve gave you a wry smile.

“Watch movies?”

“Ah, yeah.”

There was a short silence until Steve clapped in his hands and rubbed them together. “I’ve got this huge blanket in the back, brought it here once because Rob, Robin, my colleague, gets very cold easily so sometimes we’d just huddle under the blanket during breaks and stuff. I think we might as well sit out here, at least it’s light… for now.”

You nodded, smiling as you thought of Robin Buckley. You knew her of course. Not super well, but well enough to know she was nice.

“Yeah, it’s already getting dark, huh? A blanket sounds good though.”

Steve nodded and once again disappeared for a short moment, until he returned with a bright blue blanket, which he partially draped on the floor in front of the counter before he motioned for you to sit down and wrapped it around your shoulders. He joined you after grabbing you both some water and put the other end around his shoulders once he settled down.

“How’s this?”

You were really trying not to let it get to you that you were cozying up to Steve right now. Heat was radiating off of him and it made you wonder if he was actually cold, or if he was basically doing the whole “it’s better to stick together for body warmth” kind of thing. With the addition of clothes, of course.

“It’s nice. Better than without for sure,” you told him softly. Steve’s shoulder brushed yours and soon enough you felt the pressure build up until he was actually resting against you. Not in an uncomfortable way at all. It was really… nice, actually.

“Your parents? Do you think they’ll worry?”

“Ah, no. My mom’s visiting my grandma in another state actually and my dad’s no longer around, so. Doubt he can worry,” you joked lightly. “What about yours?”

Steve snorted, then realized it probably wasn’t all that funny and shrugged.

“Dunno, they’re somewhere in Europe now, I think? So no.”

Another silence. It was by that point that you remembered how little you actually knew about Steve Harrington. Sure, he had been popular in school for some time, and then he wasn’t, and then he graduated. But you had never really talked to him other than giving him a pen or two in English class. You were from different social ladders, really. Although, right now you felt quite equal to him, somehow. Which felt weird, considering he looked like a freshly cut out of a painting model and you were… you. Mr handsome decided to steal you away from your brain, which honestly, was a good thing.

“Hey, wanna play a game?” he asked, peering into your eyes as he leaned forward a little. You watched him with newfound curiosity.

“What kind of game?”

“I spy with my little eye.”

“Isn’t that just called “I spy”?” you wondered aloud.

“Dunno. So. Yes?”

“What else is there, right?”

Steve grinned and rested his head against the counter.

“That’s right. Okay. I spy with my little eye… something green.”

“That tape,” you said as you pointed. Steve leaned into your space, following your hand.

“Which one?”

“The green one.”

“There are maaaany green ones.”

“The green one with… Fuck I can’t read,” you sighed as you tried to squint. Steve laughed warmly, which you could feel the tremble of against your shoulder. “Okay so. The sci-fi shelf, yes? Fifth on the second row.”

“Aaaah, I see it now. Nope!”

“You knew that wasn’t it from the start.”

“I had to make sure.”

“Mhm, sure.”

Steve grinned and nudged you with his shoulder before tapping your thigh with his hand.

“Your turn, your turn!”

He left his hand on your thigh. Oh shit. Yeah, you were totally normal about that. You could still think. You could definitely still find some kind of object that you could use—

“Wait, I didn’t even guess it, how is it my turn?!” you questioned. Steve, who had been looking at… somewhere that wasn’t your eyes, quickly lifted his eyes to meet yours and grinned.

“Right. Guess!” “Your vest?”

“You are absolutely right. See? Your turn.”

“It wasn’t— okay. Hm… I spy with my little eye… something red.”

“Your cheeks.”

“Shut up, my cheeks aren’t red.”

“They are a little.”

“If you keep talking about it, yes, they will turn red.”

“Oh? Is that so?”

Once again Steve leaned forward to look you straight in the eye, this time lifting a hand to cup your cheek gently. “Hm, they’re a little pink at the very least.”

You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks and took his hand off your cheek as you looked away. Steve chuckled softly and turned his hand around so he could grab yours.

“Fine, then… the bike outside?”

“Nope.”

“Damn, I thought that was it for sure. That red blob of paint that Keith never managed to get off the ceiling?”

“That’s it!”

Steve grinned at you and gave your hand a squeeze. For a moment you had forgotten about his hand, too drunk on his animated face. Fuck.

“I spy with my little eye…” Steve turned his head to look at you and smiled. “Something pretty.”

“What?”

“Purple! Purple.”

“My shirt.”

“So clever.”

It was getting darker rapidly and soon enough, even your little game became harder to play. You did some other ones, word games, guessing games, whatever you could think of. The blanket was wrapped closer around you both now, as the store became colder without the heating. You sat hip to hip, your arms a little awkward sometimes although neither of you really minded.

“Would you have stayed here if I hadn’t been around?” you asked softly.

“Hmm, nah, I don’t think so.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t really care if— I mean, I’d only be risking myself in that case.”

“That’s a bad reason. You’re just as important.”

“Am I?” Steve asked, and for some reason you felt like he needed an honest answer.

“Yeah, you are, Steve.”

“Hm…” A beat of silence. “I spy with my little eye… someone pretty.”

“You can’t even see.”

“I’ve memorized her by now.”

“Is it the blonde babe cardboard cutout?”

Steve, not expecting that answer at all, burst out laughing.

“Fuck, no,” a giggle, “it wasn’t.”

“Oh… hm. What about that girl from the ring? Samara?”

“Shush.”

“Or the woman from that movie where—” “Ssshh.”

You felt his hand cup your cheek and it was as if your heart was gonna jump out of your chest at any moment now. His breath tickled your cheek, warm and comfortable against your cold nose. Your lips parted on their own, eyes closing even though there was only an outline of his face to see.

“You sure it’s not the blond babe?” you murmured teasingly.

Steve giggled softly and shook his head, causing the stray strands of his hair to tickle you a little.

“Positive.”

A faint sound of lips being licked, and then his lips brushed against yours. Soft and pliable, eager to taste yours. He hummed softly, pleased, as he pulled you closer. You were easily pulled into his lap as his tongue teased your bottom lip for access. Hands smoothed up and down your waist, the blanket forgotten as your kiss provided enough heat between the two of you. It was silent, save from the gasps and soft, pleasant hums leaving you both. He gently moved his hips while simultaneously guiding yours, a gentle moan leaving him as he found a rhythm. His lips found your neck and your hand made its way into his hair to have something to grasp onto. One hand found the hem of your shirt and he was about to lift it up when—

Brightness. Light. The electricity was back on. Meaning… everyone outside could see you. If there had been anyone, that is. Still, it broke the moment instantly as Steve dropped his hand to your thigh and looked up at you.

“Shit,” he murmured, a lopsided grin on his face. “They really know how to spoil the fun today, huh?”

You smiled down at him and turned around to look outside, one hand resting on his chest for balance.

“Hm… I don’t know. It seems safe to go back home.”

Steve dug his fingers into your hips with eagerness before leaving a soft kiss on your lips.

“Your place or mine?”

end.

If you enjoyed reading this, please know that comments and reblogs are highly appreciated :) Likes are lovely but sadly do nothing to spread the fics around! Help your favorite writers (not saying me - in general) out like that so you can continue to enjoy consuming the free work they put out, it's a win-win.

[eufezco]

Could you do Benedict Bridgerton with wife pregnant!reader? She had gone to the modiste and Ben was with her. (Not Madam Delacroix and they never do the deed💀) Ben was looking on something until hq notice her and just sort of speechless. She was glowing in the dress and with her pregnant state, Ben thanked whoever made him her husband. Just something fluff and maybe a little suggestive 👀. You decide how it goes. Thanks!! :))

Your body was changing.

Your beautiful and expensive dresses didn't fit you anymore, you had had to buy new shoes because your ankles were so swollen and, on your way to the modiste, you had had to stop for a rest a couple of times because you were short of breath. Your husband, Benedict, walked by your side holding your arm under his, checking up on you every minute in case you needed anything or were feeling unwell.

You would never admit it to him but you hated all of those things. Even though you loved being pregnant with his child, you hated every single change that was happening to your body. You didn't find yourself attractive anymore but he always made sure you knew that he saw you as beautiful as the day he fell in love with you.

Benedict held the door for you and you pressed your lips together into a smile when you walked into the little shop.

—Mister and Miss Bridgerton, how nice it is to see you here —.The modiste greeted you with a smile and quickly stopped what she was doing to give you a hug. —You look wonderful today, dear. How is the baby?

You rubbed your big belly. —She is quite calm today but she is hungry all the time.

—Then you shall eat for both, my Lady.

You sighed. —I know but...

Benedict threw an arm over your shoulders and hugged you against him. He kissed your temple, he knew he had to step in at that moment. —You are taking excellent care of our daughter, my love. She's going to be a strong and healthy girl thanks to you.

You sighed again and allowed Benedict to hug you. He always had the right words for every moment.

—I cannot agree more with Mr. Bridgerton. —Your modiste said and grabbed both of your hands. —And you look radiant, my Lady, and will look even better in your two new dresses.

Your face brightened and you squeezed her hands. —Are both of them already finished? —The modiste nodded, smiling. You broke away from Benedict to hug her tightly. —You are the best. How did you make them so fast?

—Well, you are not going to be pregnant forever and I wanted my favorite client to have her dresses as soon as possible.

The truth was that Benedict paid her a little more without your knowledge so that she would have them ready before the next ball. He didn't want to repeat what happened at the last ball. The pregnancy dresses were not made of particularly beautiful fabrics so when you saw the rest of the girls in lovely dresses, you couldn't help but feel bad about yourself.

—Can I try them on?

—Of course! I would love to see that.

You were ready to enter the small curtained space to try on the first dress when Benedict approached you. —Let me help you —. But the modiste stood in his way and shook her head. He raised his eyebrows in surprise.

—Stay here, Mr. Bridgerton. I will help her.

Benedict looked at you, waiting for you to defend him, but you shook your head. —You heard her, love.

He acted hurt but understood that you wanted it to be a surprise.

While Benedict inspected everything in the shop, touched all the fabrics, and even poked his fingers with a few pins for being too curious, your modiste helped you to slip into the dress she sewed for you. She was very careful with your body, your big belly did not allow you to make many movements to put on the dress but she was prepared for that.

—Oh my dear, you look gorgeous —. The modiste took a step back to admire her work.

—Really? I don't know, I— You ran your hands over your big belly. Did your body looked weird? The dress was beautiful and the fabric was very soft and comfortable, the color was also perfect, but you were worried about how it would look on you.

—Every girl on the ton will want to get pregnant just so they can look like you.

You huffed a laugh and rolled your eyes. At least she knew how to make you laugh. —Do not say such things.

—Oh, I am being serious. Why don't we ask someone else? —The modiste opened the curtain. Benedict had his back turned to you, distracted by anything while waiting to see you.

—Ben? —You called his name and he immediatly turned to you.

Benedict gasped and had to fight not to fall on his knees before you even though he would have gladly done so. His face lit up, his eyes widened, his lips curved in a smile.

—Do you like it? —You played with your hands nervously. The modiste also waited for Benedict's answer although by his reaction, she knew that he was not only in love with the dress but deeply in love with you.

—Do you think they would let me marry you a second time?

You and the modiste shared a laugh.

—My love, you are dazzling. Let me see —. He approached you and took one of your hands so you could spin around. Benedict shook his head as you did so, how could a human being be so beautiful? Then you stood in front of him, he kissed your knuckle and then grabbed your cheeks to plant a quick kiss on your lips. Benedict kept his hands on your cheeks, caressing them with his thumbs.

—Okay, lovebirds. I will go get the other dress.

Your modiste left and you gave Benedict another quick kiss. Then, you turned around to look at yourself in the mirror. He hugged you from behind, his hands rested carefully on your big belly while he rested his chin on your shoulder and admired your reflection in the mirror.

—I love the dress but I cannot wait to get home and take it off you —. His lips kissed the crook of your neck.

—Benedict! —You giggled. —Do I even turn you on like this? —You put your hands over his on your belly.

—Oh, you have no idea.

[lanadelray-gurl]

“Can’t fix something that doesn’t want fixing.”

Warnings!!!: Smut,use of a mirror during sex?(idk if that counts) p n v,oral f and m receiving,cheating,no condom during sex(wrap before you tap) choking,hair pulling,slapping and scratching,Elvis cheating on Priscilla. Let me know if I missed any<3

Pairing: Elvis Presley x fem!reader

Plot: Elvis was always smooth with the ladies. But when he met a girl he wasn’t able to drive crazy he’s gotta know what he’s doing wrong.

It was pretty much your dream to go to an Elvis show,maybe even see if you could sleep with Elvis. You knew well he was with a new girl every night and you wanted a chance,you were also known to get around or to put it into better words no one was able to tie you down. You never liked staying with people very long,you liked to be free. Everyone in your family hated it,your mother disowned you and your father sent you packin’.

You weren’t going to complain,there was no point in doing so. What is done is done,you made it on your own. You worked your ass off and made your own money,you moved from your small town and went off to LA. At first it was tough living out there,barely scraping by due to the ‘luxury’ lifestyle. You started modeling just to make enough cash and it worked! You made it in the work of modeling,and you were well known around town.

You noticed how frowned upon it was for a lady to be interested in more than one man. But when it came to the men in your line of work..it was just “oh boys will be boys!” And “men have needs!” Well you weren’t having it! You took what you wanted from any man that would offer,you’d take someone new to your luxury apartment almost every other week. Yeah so what you liked sex? A girl has needs too. But during all this time you still haven’t seen an Elvis show or even seen Elvis! But tonight that was gonna change,you made sure once you knew tickets where available you bought them. You booked a room in the international hotel on the top floor,trying to up your chances to get close to Elvis.

You were finally escorted by your own personal security to the stage room,this was your chance. You made sure you were sitting up front,very close to the stage. Making sure he could see you,your (h/c) hair was pinned up nicely and you had on your best dress and heels. He was gonna see you tonight. He had to! Suddenly the lights dimmed,pulling you out of your thoughts. People were shuffling around to get to their seats as the show began to start,the curtains lifted slowly. You watched as Elvis walked onto the stage,guitar in his arms. He was wearing his glamorous white suit,he basically glimmered in the bright lights that shined towards the stage. He waved to his fans,smiling that beautiful smile. It made something inside of you twist and turn,your body started to feel warm and fuzzy. You heard everyone around you clap,whistle and shout. You couldn’t help but clap with them giving him your support.

He walked to the microphone,adjusted it and smirked shaking his head slightly while laughing to himself. The band started playing,that’s all right. He began to sing,his booming voice sending out chills in your body.

“Well that’s alright momma..”

You felt something inside you throb,you couldn’t tell if it was your heart or somewhere a bit lower..

“That’s all right for you..”

God you were going crazy,you sat there in your seat. Gripping onto the fabric of your dress,your breath was quick,your heart was racing. You had to have him.

As the show continued,you couldn’t control your arousal. You felt the wetness pour out of you and into your pretty pink panties. Your pussy clenched around nothing as he moved his hips and basically flayed around the stage. Soon the show came to an end,Elvis walked off the stage hugging and kissing the woman who came through his path. You stood right in front of Elvis,your heart raced in your chest.

He gently held your face,his strong hands made you shiver. His cold rings made your hot skin sting,he looked into your eyes the vibrate blue color was beautiful. He leaned in,pressing his pillowy lips into yours it felt like heaven,you kissed back deepening it. It surprised him normally with his fans it was quick and gentle but now with you..it felt hot and sensual. He pulled away and stared into your eyes..why was his heart racing? He felt hot all over maybe it was from his performance or maybe it was you…

You smiled at him,your hands lingering on top of his. He gave you a half smirk before walking off and going to his other fans. Elvis soon went with his Memphis mafia up to his lavish hotel room. You followed after them,they walked towards the elevator watching them enter and then once the door closed you watched the light above the door flicker as it went up each floor. You watched it stop at the very top floor and you smiled,he was on the same floor you were how lucky! You entered the elevator and pressed the bottom to the top floor,your heart racing praying you’d be able to get there in time to see Elvis.

Once the elevator stopped at the top floor you rushed out of the door. You felt desperate but who wouldn’t chase the opportunity to say they got to fuck Elvis! You weren’t missing this moment,you didn’t see him the hallway but you did see a door close just as you entered the hallway. You walked towards the door,noticing how it looked a bit more decorative than any of the other doors. Thats gotta be his room,you walked towards the door and with a shaking hand and a heavy sigh you knocked on the door,you heard heavy steps walking towards the door. You were quick to smooth out your dress and slick back any stray hairs,you leaned against the door frame popping out your curvy hips. Once the door opened you were face to face with Elvis but instead of his jumpsuit he was wearing a black and burgundy silk robe.

“Hey there darlin’..you lost little lady?”

He tilted his head slightly,a cigar hung between his teeth,with his silk robe he wore sunglasses with gold rims. He had a slight smirk,he remembered you from the show. You were the girl who made his heart race.

“I’m awfully lonely tonight..and by the looks of it..”you glanced around his room,it was empty but well decorated. His wife was no where to be seen. “You seem pretty lonely too..” you giggled softly. Elvis took the cigar from his teeth and held it between two ringed figures,he suddenly moved from in front of the door and let you inside..who was he to deny a girl some company?

You walked into the room,taking in the loud and elaborate colors and decorations,taking note of each detail. Your hips swayed as you walked which caught his eye,he rested that cigar on a nearby ashtray and followed behind you. His hand made its way around your waist,you of course smiled eating up all of his attention. You were guided into his room,you dropped you purse on the floor and kicked off your heels while biting your bottom lip. You sat back on his big,plush bed. Lifting up one of your feet and pressing it against his chest. He gently held onto your calf,pressing kisses against the top of your foot and down to your knee.

God you were intoxicating,you weren’t like the other girls who came and went..no you were like fresh air. You knew what you wanted and you weren’t gonna leave until you got it. You were like him..that’s what it was. He pulled down the straps of your dress before sitting on his knees between your legs and reaching behind you,unzipping your pretty dress. You allowed it,tilted your head and smiling smug down at him. You stood up letting the dress fall of your beautiful body,he stared up at you from the floor,kissing you thighs and admiring you pink lace panties and matching bra. He worshiped your body,your soft skin driving him crazy..he finally stood up,but slowly making sure to kiss your thighs up your stomach and then stopping at the top of your breast once he stood up fully,towering over you.

He gently caressed you arm up to your cheek. He gently held your face and you leaned into the gentle touch. Enjoying it while it lasted,before he leaned forward to kiss you,but you pressed a finger against his lips. You shook your head and reached up and took off his sunglasses.

“I wanna see those pretty blues honey..”

You spoke gently before you finally pressed your lips against his. You tossed his glasses off to the side,your hands now working on untying the silk robe,once the front of the robe opened you pulled away and looked down at his slightly toned but still soft and plush body. You ran your hand over the exposed skin and stop and the band of his black briefs,you smiled and glanced up at him.

“We’re gonna take care of little Elvis..can I?”

You questioned,he of course nodded “I’d like that very much momma..” he spoke gently and watched as you dropped to your knees,you slowly pulled down the briefs. His cock was half hard,bouncing slightly as it twitched from the sudden chill of the cold air,you parted your plump pink lips and wrapped it around the uncut head. You swirled your skillful tongue around the salty flesh,he gently gripped onto your hair messing it up,not that you cared..you felt as his cock twitched once more as it got fully hard. You couldn’t fit all of it down your throat,you used your hands and stroke the rest of the shaft down to the base.

You bobbed your head skillfully “fuck— god that mouth is so good honey,don’t stop that babydoll..” He moaned loudly and started to thrust into your mouth making you gag,spit dripping down your chin onto his full balls. He continued to thrust down your throat pulling your hair forcefully,making you whimper around his cock. This made his breath hitch in his throat,he finally slammed your head into his pelvis,your nose buried deep into his light colored pubes. You always forgot he used to be a blond. You slapped his thigh before he released your head,you fell back onto your ass trying to catch your breath,one had held you up and one wiped you slobbering mouth.

His cock twitched wildly,he looked up at the ceiling before closing his eyes and catching his breath,he looked down at you and smirked tilted his head towards the bed. “Up on the bed..lay on your back momma.” He demanded and you obliged. You got up,crawled onto the bed. You laid on your back,Elvis stood at the end of the bed after kicking off his briefs he got onto the bed sitting on his knees in front of you. He yanked off your panties and put them into the pocket of the silk robe. You bit your bottom lip and squirmed,he grabbed the bottom of your thighs and putting them on either side of his hips,he put his middle and ring finger in his mouth,wetting them.

Elvis gently pressed his wet digits against your tight hole,you arched your back as you felt the pressure. The two fingers finally pressed into your wet pussy,curling up and pumping into you slowly. You moaned loudly and gripped into the sheets “Elvis! F—fuu-!!” You clapped a hand over your mouth and tried to hide your moans,he quickly gripped your wrist with his free hand and uncovered your mouth. “No no no baby..I need to what this pretty moans babydoll..” he growled and pumped into your tight,wet cunt faster

“A-ah! P-please Elvis s-slow down!”

You started to whimper and beg,your already messed up makeup just getting worse from your ongoing tears. Her firmly but gently pressed his thumb against your neglected clit,you started to curl up into yourself and you squirmed and moaned. It felt like hot lightning was running through your body as you rocked into his hand,his thumb making swift and quick circles against your now throbbing clit. You let your eyes roll back into your head your mouth hung open and you whimpered loudly as your eyes fluttered shut as you came on his fingers.

Your back arched off the bed for a few moments,your legs twitched and started shaking. He pulled his fingers away with a smile,he leaned over you as you came down from your orgasm. You felt him press hot wet kisses against your skin,he gently rocked his hips against you,his leaking tip rubbed against your tip. This made you cry out “hmm baby..so wet and so pretty oh honey I’m gonna fuck you senseless..” he whispered in your ear before pressing more kissing against your neck and collarbone,he reached behind you and unclipped your bra revealing you basically perfect breast. He left a trail of open mouth kisses against down to your left breast,he took the hardened nipple between his lips before gently biting on it and sucking,his other hand gently grabbed onto your right breast and he started to gun it softly.

With his other hand he held onto his shaft and slowly pressed Into your warm pussy. He let out a shuddered gasp,his mouth hung open and his eyes shut. You grabbed onto him,one hand scratching his back from over the silk robe and the other pulling his hair. He groaned loudly,his held you close to his body and thrusted into you. He pushed you back down into the bed and looked down at you he was growling and grunting like an animal. “So fucking tight— such a good girl coming to my room and basically begging me to f-fuck that tight pussy ah fuck” he tried to catch his breath. He picked you up,moving you with him.

He sat at the edge of the bed making you ride him ,a mirror facing the both of you. He watched as your pussy took his cock so good,he rocked your hips sloppily. “Look at me fuck you honey..l-look how good y-your pussy take my lil Elvis..” You looked over your shoulder and watched yourself in the mirror. “Fuck Elvis..your cock feels so g-good! Fuck!” You moaned loudly and arched your back,you let out loud soft whimpers. He slapped your ass as hard as he could the rings on his fingers making large marks against the already large handprint. You felt a turning sensation start in your stomach,you knew you were about to cum. You grabbed onto his shoulders erratically,trying to reach your climax.

“You gonna cum? My babydoll wanna cum? Come on go ahead cum all over daddy’s cock darlin’…”

he moaned into your ear,he watched your rockin’ hips in the mirror and scratched your soft gentle skin. You cried out,tears flooding your eyes and the rest of the already running mascara dripped down your cheeks. You finally started to sloppily and erratically rock and shake your hips down into his cock. Your climax hit you like a truck,you slumped over on his shoulder and continued to let him fuck your swollen and puffy pussy,causing you to become overstimulated. You continued to twitch and shake on his cock. He grabbed onto your hips with all the strength he had left,definitely gonna leave bruises on that pretty skin.

Elvis was reaching his orgasm and he started to twitch crazily,he made you looked at him while he smirked “Make daddy cum baby,make daddy cum..—“ He moans loudly and he started to thrust up into your abused and sore cunt,he watched as your face twisted and turned. Finally you felt the warm squirts of his hot cum feeling you up,he groaned loudly and slammed you down on his cock. Before you knew it,you were being laid down back onto the bed. Elvis settled his face between your legs,your legs behind placed over his shoulders. You started whimpering and squirming trying to get away from him “E-Elvis..it’s too sensitive!—“ you were cut off by Elvis gently sucking your swollen clit,you cried out and sobbed into your hand. You couldnt handle it,his tongue traced over your hot slit,licking up his and your cum. His tongue prodded at your hole,it made you crazy you couldn’t help it but you gripped onto his hair and pressed his perfect face into your slit. You came all over his face,rocking your hips against his nose before finally letting him go. He lifted up his face,his perfectly sculpted face was glistening from your sweet cum,you looked down at him and watched him smirk before plopping your head back down onto the pillow.

Once you plopped you head back down on the pillow you passed out,only waking up hours later into the night. You were cleaned and wearing a nice silk robe..he must’ve cleaned you off and gotten you covered up. You sat up and looked around,you were then face to face with a sleeping Elvis..you needed to leave. You slowly got out of the bed,grabbing your clothes and your heels. You tried to find your underwear but remembered Elvis took them,you decided to let him keep them,you wouldn’t miss them too much..

You creeped out of the bedroom and then you looked around making sure no one was there,you saw one the members of the Memphis mafia laying and sleeping on the couch. You tried to be extra quiet,you then walked out of the front door and leaned up against the now shut front door,you sighed heavily before rushing down the hallway and into your hotel room. You slammed your door and sat down on the floor against the door “I just fucked Elvis Presley..” you whispered to yourself,you smiled and laughed while combing you hands through your messy hair.

Elvis woke up that morning,expecting to see the beautiful woman from the night before. “Shit..” he looked around frantically and confused. He got out of bed and put on his robe,checking the whole room. You were gone..you didn’t even bother to say goodbye..normally he was the one doing the running after a night of fuckin’. He shook his head and laughed to himself while holding his forehead,what did he do to run you off? He had to find out..he called his buddy

“hey..yeah it’s me E..I need you to figure something out for me..Yeah I need you to find someone for me..”

This was gonna haunt him for as long as he lived..he needed to find out who you were..you were who he wanted.

Okay! That’s the fanfic! I kinda left it on a cliffhanger incase I wanted to make this a story I’m no totally sure so let me know what you think! Don’t forget that request are open<3

[the-froschamethyst4]

Who’s he dating?

𖤐Pairing: Actor! Alejandro x F! Reader

𖤐Pronouns: She/Her

𖤐Warnings: Fluff, emotional, drama, language, kissing, jealously, groping, ass smacking, worrying,

𖤐Summary: Alejandro is a famous actor, being a bunch of movies where he plays villains or Mafia bosses, and the ladies LOVED HIM and men wanted to be him but what they didn't know is that Alejandro is married, and no one knew about it till they saw his ring

——————

——————

Alejandro was pacing behind Jimmy Fallon's dark navy-blue curtain as he started to introduce Alejandro.

"And now introducing the face of his new movie If Death was my Lover, Alejandro Vargas," Alejandro heard his name and put on a smile as the curtains opened for him.

He walks out waving to the crowd, bro-hugging Jimmy and Jimmy showed him to the famous couch letting Alejandro have a seat.

"Alejandro, it is amazing to have you on the show."

"Thanks for having me," Alejandro said with a smile.

At the Hotel room Alejandro had rented out, his wife Y/n sat on the black couch watching the TV specifically watching The Tonight Show. She crossed her legs with a bowl of popcorn on her lap, she smiled seeing her husband on TV.

Alejandro's handsome smile on his face as he answered Jimmy's questions and then Jimmy wanted to do a game with Alejandro, Y/n smiled when her husband was winning against Jimmy.

"EVERYONE ALEJANDRO VARGAS DON'T GO ANYWHERE WE'LL BE RIGHT BACK!!" Jimmy yells.

Alejandro shook Jimmy's hand as he walked off the stage. Alejandro got backstage and immediately rubbed his head, he was getting a massive headache, he asked around for some ibuprofen which he finally found someone with it.

He took about 2 with some water and went back to his dressing room waiting for his headache to disappeared. He's been getting them for a while and is too afraid to tell Y/n that he's been getting migraines from stress on working.

He felt his headache slowly go away and he headed to his blacked-out Audi and headed to the hotel.

---------

Y/n was getting her pajamas on, and she heard her hotel room door open, and slam shut. She turned and smiled seeing her husband.

"Alejandro," she coos, she walks up to him and wraps her arms around his neck. He held her waist and bent down kissing her lips with a smile on his face.

"Did you have fun?"

"I did...but I was missing you the whole time," he said, kissing her temple.

"Did you?"

"Yes, I don't know what's going on, but I've been getting nervous now, I was pacing backstage and was just nervous," he said, holding her close to his chest.

"It's okay, baby, but it went away, right?" She asked, looking up at him.

"Of course, amor," he kissed her lips.

---------

4:00AM

Alejandro had woken up before the sun, he sat at the edge of the bed, rubbing the back of his neck and the sheets just covering his lower half.

Y/n was asleep next to him, he grabbed his phone and headed to the balcony to see what's new.

He opened his social media and then saw.

OMG ALEJANDRO VARGAS IS MARRIED!!

Some screenshotted Alejandro from last night on The Tonight Show, and then the other photo showed Alejandro's hand with his black wedding ring on.

"Shit," he mumbled. He's been great at keeping his marriage a secret, but he slipped up and forgot to take his ring off before the interview.

"Alejandro?" He looked up hearing his name and the sliding door open.

"Mi amor, I am so sorry."

"Huh? Why?" She asked as Alejandro pulled her to his lap.

"People saw my ring from the interview and now-"

"Alejandro it's okay...people know you're married they don't know to who."

"And I rather keep it that way, no one knowing who I am married to, it's no one's business and I don't want people hurting you or trying to threaten you...I'll make a statement about the ring and just say it was a ring I found not a wedding ring or something like that."

"That's fine, baby," she kissed his lips and headed back inside the hotel. "Come to bed, I know you're tired," she said as he smiled and followed her inside.

---------

6:30AM

Alejandro really couldn't go back to sleep, he held Y/n to his chest and looked at the ceiling taking in her scent as well. She let out a soft yawn and rolled over on the other side cuddling the pillow.

He got up and opened the curtains just barely and saw that the sun was up now. He rubbed the back of his neck, he closed them and turned on the little lamp next to the big bed and got his clothes ready for a shower.

He turned the water on and started to get ready, they had to leave to go back to LA to go over a new movie with Netflix. Alejandro has been stressed out with new movies and new TV series, which is due to his headaches.

Y/n heard the water running in the bathroom. She opened the bathroom door and could see his outline in the shower.

"Alejandro?"

"Good morning, amor," he says.

"Good morning," she said, grabbing her hairbrush and brushing her hair and then her teeth. Alejandro stopped the shower and got out with a towel around his waist.

He kissed her temple. "We've got to get going soon," he said, holding her waist now watching her in the mirror brushing her teeth and then her mumbling in response.

"What was that?" He teased.

"I mow (I know)," she said, placing her hand under her chin trying to not let the toothpaste fall out of her mouth. He kissed her temple and smacked her butt before walking out of the bathroom and grabbing some comfortable clothes to wear to the airport.

He even goes ahead and picks out Y/n's outfits when she gets out of the shower.

Alejandro got his clean boxers on and started to rub his towel on his hair drying it the best he could. Y/n saw her husband in his boxers bent over just a little bit drying his hair. She smiled and smacked his butt; he smacked her away as she laughed at him.

"Really?" He said as Y/n cornered herself.

"Yes," she laughs.

He grabs her wrist pulling her close to his chest and groped her ass making her moan just a little.

"Thought we had to get going," she teased.

He let go of her and grabbed his jeans and a lose t-shirt.

"Get dressed, so we can head out," he smirked and walked to the bathroom to brush his teeth. She unwrapped her body from the towel and then grabbed the clothes, she had an oversized t-shirt and some shorts.

-----------

At The Airport

Alejandro went in first to get the swarming paparazzi away from the car to see Y/n sitting in the car waiting. Alejandro just lazily smiles and awkwardly smile at the cameras.

The car circled the parking lot and Y/n changed cars. She got in a yellow cab and was taken back to the front; it was so much work just to hide from the flashing cameras.

As she exits the car and went through all the security, she tried to find the exit to get to the private area to get on Alejandro's private jet. As she saw the exit and she grabbed her pass to show to the lady.

"Hi, miss, what can I help you with?" She asked.

"Hi, umm~ this is my pass," she looked at it and let Y/n through. Alejandro stood by the door waiting for her.

He grabs her hand, and she jumped thinking it was someone else.

"Jesus, you scared me," she said.

"Sorry, mi amor," he laughs. "Did everything go, alright?"

"Yes, no problems," she smiled at they got on the private jet. Alejandro picked a seat and Y/n sat next to him and his manager and assistant sat in front of them.

"So, we will land in LA in 5 hours and 23 minutes, so we should get there on time, see Netflix and go over the new movie you'll shoot for them and then you should have a break in between to go back home and relax till a new movie or deal," his manager Xavier said as his assistant Dillon was taking notes.

"Great," Alejandro said, sounding annoyed and then the jet started, immediately Alejandro's head started to pound.

"Alejandro?" Y/n cooed, placing her hand on his.

"Sorry...I've got a headache," he said as Dillon grabbed some headache medicine.

Y/n's eyes screamed that she was worried as Alejandro took the medicine. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, his manager and assistant left Y/n and Alejandro alone.

"Alejandro," Y/n cupped his face.

"Mi amor, please, I'm fine."

"No, you're not. How long have you been getting headaches?"

"....A few weeks," he confesses.

"Alejandro-"

"Please, don't yell....it's not gone yet..." he says, placing his hand behind her head. “I’m sorry I haven’t told you, I’ve just been busy…”

“And you being busy makes you have headaches…Alejandro it’d probably be best if you took at least a few weeks off, you’re stressing yourself out,” she says.

"I'm fine-"

"You're not, Xavier, Alejandro needs to take some days off from working-"

"Amor, no."

"Don't you 'no' me, Alejandro. Xavier, please," Y/n begged.

"Y/n he's signed a contract to work at least 4 weeks a month and a 2-week break...we can't just stop now."

"Why not, he's getting headaches and next thing you know he's losing his hair, Xavier, we're taking a break and that's final."

The jet ride was silent as the destination was getting changed around, Y/n knows Alejandro is probably upset with her right now, but someone had to make the calls around here. Y/n played with her fingers as the jet landed. Everyone gathered their things.

Alejandro got off the jet leaving Y/n behind, she knew she messed up, but she did what she had to do so her husband could rest.

Alejandro got in a black unmark Audi and Y/n opened the back seat, but Alejandro snapped his fingers pointing to the passenger seat, she thought Alejandro may not want to speak to her, so she wanted to ride in the back.

She sat in the passenger side and looked down at her legs, she felt bad, and she could feel the tension in the car, it was strong and felt like he was going to yell at any moment, but he didn't say anything as he drove off to their home.

Alejandro's knuckles were white, and his gaze was on the road, not a word was spoken, nothing, hardly any music played as well.

"A-Alejandro, I am so sorry, I said something like that, but I can't watch you drag yourself into the ground, and almost kill yourself, I just can't see that happen to you," she said, looking at him.

He didn't say anything till he pulled up into their driveway. She got out first and grabbed her things, Alejandro walked into his home as Y/n opened the door and saw his shoes and coat by the front door and he is talking, probably on the phone with Xavier or someone.

"God, I am such an idiot," she said to herself.

She goes into her bedroom and changes out of her clothes into sweatpants and a crewneck. She went to the living room and looked down at her phone seeing her social media.

Fans were still blowing up about Alejandro being married. Y/n rolled her eyes at the hate comments saying she's probably ugly and smiled at the ones telling off the haters because he didn't look at them first.

Alejandro came downstairs seeing his wife and just stared at her, she looks up and saw him.

"What?"

"I understand you were probably just helping....and I'm sorry for getting all pissy for no reason," he says. He walks towards her and lays on the couch and used her thighs as his own personal pillow.

"Okay, okay, it's okay, Alejandro. I should have just left it alone..." she says, patting his head and running her fingers through his soft hair.

"It's okay," he says, kissing her thigh making her shiver down her spine and she squeezed her thighs just a little bit. Alejandro smirked knowing what he is doing. He turns his head his mouth just grazing her thighs again and just gently biting her leaving a bite mark on her thigh.

"A-Alejandro!"

"What? Mi amor?" He coos, sitting up and cupping her face and kissing her lips.

"Don't 'what, mi amor' me," she says.

He just chuckles and picks her up off the couch and took her to the bedroom, he places her on the bed and crawled on top of her and kissed her lips again.

[artiststarme]

Burning Down The House

Well, this turned out to be a little angstier than I anticipated but I hope you guys like it! I'm thinking there will probably be a part 2, maybe a part 3 as well. As always, please leave your thoughts in the comments and if you have any title ideas, send them my way!

~*~*~*~

Eddie was used to people hating him. He was long accustomed to the insults, points, and glares that came from being different in a small town. As sad as it was, it was a constant in Eddie’s life. No matter what, he could always count on people to despise him for being himself. It didn’t matter if he was a scared little kid moving in with his uncle to escape his father’s abuse or if he was a grown man trying to move on after a traumatizing experience, the people of Hawkins were never going to show him any respect.

Every time he left his house after the Spring Break from hell and his subsequent recovery period in the hospital, the fellow people of Hawkins made sure to show him how much they didn’t want him there. Andy and his other jockey goons would corner him to give him flurries of punches that would leave his ears ringing for days. Principal Higgins had gifted him his high school diploma through the mail on the condition that ‘he just stay away’. Even the little old ladies that were once enamored by his politeness glared at him now on the street. 

But Eddie could handle it, he’d long given up on winning everyone over. Years ago, he’d built his armor into impenetrable walls of steel that hadn’t failed him yet. He’d grown his hair out into a dark curtain to use as a shroud, he’d wrestled into a battle jacket, and covered his vulnerabilities with patches for metal bands. The people of Hawkins couldn’t get to him now. 

They could get to Wayne though, and they did. Eddie came home one too many times to Wayne scrubbing spray paint off the sides of the trailer, arthritic fingers cramping as he tried to spare Eddie’s feelings from the harsh words scrawled in paint. He’d see Wayne’s old friends avoiding him downtown, not wanting to associate with the guy related to a murderer. But Eddie’s breaking point was when he stumbled upon Steve helping Wayne into the trailer one day. 

Steve wasn’t supposed to come over that day so Eddie had taken a nap instead. But when he heard loud voices coming from the kitchen, Eddie climbed out of bed to investigate. What he saw though was something he wished he’d never seen. Steve was holding one of Wayne’s arms, guiding him to the couch in the living room while Wayne held a bag of frozen peas against his eye. His face was bruised and he was limping as if his body was battered.

“What the fuck? What’s going on? Uncle Wayne, are you okay?” Eddie asked them frantically. Uncle Wayne just eased back onto the couch with one hand on his ribs and the other still holding the frozen peas. 

“I’m alright, kid. It ain’t nothing I can’t handle,” Wayne comforted him. 

“‘Nothing you can’t handle?’ What the fuck was it that you had to handle, Uncle Wayne?” Eddie desperately asked again. 

“Look Eds-”

“I caught some of the old basketball team beating on him. I managed to chase them off but not before they got in a few punches. Nothing too serious though, I’m almost positive he just has a shiner and some bruised ribs. No concussion,” Steve assured him. 

“You didn’t have to tell him that. Snitches get stitches, Harrington,” Wayne hissed at him.

Eddie couldn’t get over the fact that Wayne had gotten hurt at all. Hawkins was his home, Wayne had lived there his entire life and now the community that he’d grown up with was turning on him? Just because Eddie was accused of some murders that he didn’t even commit? It was such… bullshit. 

“Uncle Wayne, I’m so sorry! This is all my fault. You don’t deserve this, I should- I’m just so sorry.” Eddie felt tears build up in his eyes. There was no one less deserving of a beating than Wayne. He was the saint that took Eddie in when no one else wanted him so for him to take the brunt of Eddie’s actions, it made him feel terrible. 

“Boy, this ain’t yer fault. You didn’t do nothing and you don’t deserve this either. I’m fine, everything’s gonna be alright. We just gotta wait for this to blow over,” Wayne told him calmly. He could tell that Eddie was on the verge of a panic attack but he knew that words always calmed him down. 

Steve just shook his head at them both and handed Wayne some more ice. “I don’t think this is going to blow over. I heard some of my neighbors are trying to get the cops to arrest Eddie again even though we already got his name cleared. And I guess some of the guys on the basketball team with Lucas are trying to scare you guys off. It might be time for you guys to move somewhere else.”

Eddie just looked at him blankly. “And go where? With what money? We can’t afford to leave.”

Wayne hummed, “Nah, I don’t want to leave here. Hawkins is home whether they like us here or not. We’re staying until we can’t no more.”

Steve and Eddie made eye contact over Wayne’s head and shared a heavy look. That day was approaching faster than anyone was comfortable with. The town had always hated Eddie but Wayne now too? Things were escalating and it would only be a matter of time before the choice was taken from them. 

Later that night, Eddie was wrapped like an octopus around Steve in his bedroom when he heard glass breaking. His head shot up in tandem with Steve’s and they both hurried to get out of bed. Steve grabbed his nail studded bat that he’d taken to storing next to the bed and made his way down the hallway. They didn’t see an intruder but what they found was so much worse. 

The entire kitchen was engulfed in flames. The fire was creeping along the walls of the living room and the charring was reminiscent of that of the Upside Down. Thick, black smoke threatened to suffocate anyone that tried to combat it.

“Fuck Eddie, get Wayne! Get as much shit as you can and get out!” Steve yelled at him as he dropped the bat and hurried to fill a mixing bowl with water. “Eddie, go!”

Eddie spun around and bolted to Wayne’s room. His uncle was sleeping soundly on the bed, the bruising along his face darkened further with the light of the fire illuminating it. 

“Wayne! Get up, the trailer is on fire!” He shook his uncle’s shoulders until his eyes squinted open. “Uncle Wayne, the house is on fire, we have to go!”

They made it outside before any real damage could be done. Wayne and Eddie were fine, no burns or smoke inhalation. Steve, the glorious and idiotic bastard that he was, contained the fire to the kitchen until the fire department got there and refused to leave the trailer until he’d secured Wayne’s favorite Garfield coffee mug. Wayne couldn’t even yell at him when he showed him, just pulled him into a long hug and nestled the mug close to his chest. 

It seemed that their prior conversation had tempted the universe because they couldn’t stay in Hawkins after that. Even with little damage occurring to the bedrooms, the fire damage to the kitchen and living room areas made the trailer uninhabitable. 

After packing what they could into the cars, they made their way to the Harrington’s house to spend the night. Eddie couldn’t stop shaking during the drive and long after Steve had pulled him into his own bedroom. 

“Eds, it’s okay. Everything is fine, we all got out safe and Wayne got to keep his favorite mugs and caps. Win-win, everything will be okay.”

Eddie just looked at him in shock. “Everything is not okay, Steve! Someone tried to murder us in our sleep and then ruined our trailer by setting it on fire. That’s not okay! And now we have to find a new place to live and after this, it’s definitely not going to be in Hawkins which means I’ll have to leave you and the kids. Nothing about this is okay!”

Steve pulled Eddie into his arms and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Eddie, we’ll find a new place for you guys and we’ll make sure you’re safe. And you don’t need to worry about me. I love you so I’m going to follow you wherever you go.”

“What about Wayne?”

“He’s probably going to throw more of a fit if I don’t go. I’ve heard him telling you to buy me a ring, I don’t think he’ll let you leave me here if you tried,” Steve chuckled. 

That was true, Wayne had been threatening to propose on his behalf if he didn’t get a move on even though gay marriage wasn’t legal yet in the first place. Regardless, Steve wasn’t getting away from the Munsons anytime soon. 

Steve brushed his hair off his face as he thought and whispered, “get some sleep, Eds. We’ll worry about it in the morning. You’re safe here, I got you.”

And with that, Eddie fell asleep feeling safer and more secure than he had in months, maybe ever. Nothing was alright right now but they would be eventually. Especially if he had Wayne and Steve to count on, which he would for a long time coming.

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[midwestmade29]

Highest Bidder 💸

I wrote this one because I'm missing a certain cowboy and I'm anxiously awaiting his return 🥺 I am considering writing a continuation, but I'd love to know what you guys think! If you'd like more with this story, please let me know 🖤

Word count: 1.9k Divider by: @firefly-graphics GIF credit: @lonelyvampx

Disclaimers: None! Pure fiction, pure fluff! 🙂

This story is written from the POV of Hangman Adam Page 🤠

When Hangman's original arrangement changes, it ends up working out for the better...

I’m not totally sure how I let the chairman of the AEW charity foundation talk me into doing this, but here I am. Pacing back and forth behind the curtain waiting for the emcee to call us all out on stage, trying to down my glass of whiskey in hopes it’ll calm my nerves. When they first asked me to be a part of this live charity auction, I laughed in their face before realizing they were serious. 

“All you have to do is show up, look handsome and stand on stage while we auction off a one-time date night with you. All the money will go to our foundation. Come on Page, one night with some young lady in exchange for money for charity! Please say you’ll do it,”

Loud applause and high-pitched whistling brought me out of my thoughts, a voice speaking entirely too loudly blasting through the speakers as they introduced the auction.

“And now, the moment you’ve all been waiting for! Our live auction! Trust me, you’re not going to want to miss the lineup we have for you all tonight. Let’s bring em’ out,”

All 13 of us walked on stage in a single file line, every pair of eyes from the audience on us as we took our seats. I had been given the number 7, so there were 6 others ahead of me which meant I had to sit and be patient until it was my turn to get this over with. 

Each of the guys before me were getting decent bids from pretty nice-looking ladies. That is, everyone except for Austin Gunn. Poor sap ended up with a 70 something year old lady on his arm! She did seem spunky and fun despite her age. There were still a couple of guys ahead of me when my mind started to drift onto other things like whiskey and where I could get some. I must’ve zoned out longer than I thought when I heard the emcee make a joke at my expense.

“Well, it would appear that our cowboy is a little hard of hearing, but don’t let that stop you from bidding!” he teased. Seriously, where did they find this guy? “Come on up lucky number 7 and introduce yourself to everyone,”

I begrudgingly put one boot in front of the other until I was at the end of the catwalk standing next to the jackass emcee. I gave him a glare before taking the microphone from him and turning on my charm. 

“Good evening, everyone,” I greeted into the microphone.

A wave of flirty giggles and whispers went through the crowd before I continued my introduction.

“I’m Hangman Adam Page. An anxious millennial cowboy that likes whiskey and horses. I can’t do a cartwheel for shit, and I once tried to buy an upside-down frozen yogurt shop. Please be kind with your bids, remember this is all for charity,” 

All eyes were on me as some waited on the auctioneer to start and others trying to figure out if what I just said was true or not. The ones that really know anything about me got the joke.

The auctioneer started the opening bid at $50 causing the entire room to hold up their auction paddles. My eyes grew large as he continued raising the amount, more than half the room was still bidding even when he got up to $1,000. Not to toot my own horn or anything, but so far, I’m bringing in the biggest amount of the evening.

When the auctioneer slammed his gavel down, a date night with me had officially been sold for $1,300! I was handed a rose to give to the winner after they walked up on stage. Loud applause roared through the room as a tall blonde woman walked up the steps and embraced me tightly, making me stumble backwards a little from the sudden impact.

She held me close for entirely too long, whispering in my ear, “Hi cowboy, it’s nice to meet you. We’re going to have fun together; I just know it. One of my favorite songs is Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy after all,”

I cringed and handed her the rose, the woman then kissed my cheek and winked before making her way back to her table. At this point I’d gladly trade this lady for Austin’s 70-year-old date.

As I walked backstage, I repeated, “This is for charity. This is for charity,” in my head several times while my eyes searched the area for the cocktail cart. No bottle of whiskey was going to be safe from me tonight.

It was now Friday, the day I had been wishing that time would somehow forget, but no such luck. I was sitting at the table AEW had reserved for myself and the auction winner, swirling the ice around in my whiskey glass while I waited on my date to show up.

She was able to pick the location for our date after offering the chairman of the foundation an extra $300 to do so. Apparently, money was her thing but punctuality was not when I looked at my watch and noticed she was 10 minutes late. Although, I can’t say I’d be too upset if she forgot about it or changed her mind.

Just as I placed another drink order with the waiter, I noticed the hostess walking towards the table with some girl I’d never seen before trailing behind her.

“Here you go miss,” the hostess smiled as she pulled out the girl’s chair for her. “Enjoy,” She walked away before I could say anything. 

The girl and I sat in silence for a few moments just looking back and forth at each other. I decided to speak up after the waiter brought me my drink. 

“Um, I don’t mean to sound rude, but you have the wrong table. I’m actually waiting for someone else to arrive, so before this gets any more awkward, let me flag the hostess down,”

“That won’t be necessary, because I am your date,” the girl replied, absolutely certain of herself. 

I scoffed slightly at her remark before offering my rebuttal, “No, the woman I’m expecting is tall, blonde, and far older than either of us. She won an auction and if I remember correctly, she doesn’t look a thing like you,”

My poor choice of words made the girl’s face fall, but she recovered quickly. 

“Well, Mr. Page, while I may not be the blonde you were expecting, I am indeed your date for tonight. The auction winner is a friend of my mother’s, and she came down with the flu, so she had me come in her place. I’m starting to question her sanity though for having bid so much money to spend an evening with you and your silver tongue. I’m Y/N by the way. It’s lovely to meet you,” 

It's been a long time since someone has put me in my place like this, and that’s exactly what the little spitfire sitting across from me did. I can’t say that I’m mad about it either. 

“I’m sorry, I was raised better than to treat a lady like that. If I can be honest with you, I really wasn’t looking forward to having this date with your mother’s friend. She’s rather-”

“Flirty? Promiscuous? Bold?” Y/N interrupted.

“Yes, definitely,” I chuckled. “I only did the auction because it was for a good cause. Your mom’s friend got to choose the location of our date, and this isn’t really my scene. I don’t think her and I would’ve had much in common anyways,”

Y/N sat and thought over my confession for a moment, and I took the time to sit and get a good look at her. She had dark hair with light eyes, I could tell she was on the shorter side when she walked up with the hostess. She had to be about my age, possibly a year or two younger but something about her told me that she has an old soul. My attention was focused on her full, pink lips when she started to speak again.

“I see. And what exactly is your scene, cowboy? The rodeo? Or perhaps sitting around a campfire and howling at the moon?” she teased. After my little mistake earlier, she knew she had the upper hand here and was taking full advantage of it.

“A rodeo? Never been to one. Howling at the moon? Now that’s actually therapeutic,” I quipped, earning a bright smile from Y/N in return.

The sound of her laugh made me feel like a million bucks, something inside of me urged me to make her do it again. Before I had the chance, our waiter came to the table to check in. Y/N surprised me when she told them that we wouldn’t be placing an order, and we were ready for the check. 

While we sat and waited for the waiter to return with my credit card, I was a little sad that Y/N was cutting the evening short. She surprised me again when she asked her next question.

“Do you um, want to go get a burger or something? Fancy places like this aren’t really my scene either. I know a great place not far from here if you’d like to go. I’ll even throw in a howl or two at the moon if that’ll help seal the deal,”

“Okay, you weren’t kidding. This really is a great burger,” I praised as I took another bite.

Y/N really knows her stuff! When we were both finished, it was my turn to show off a little bit too. The last time AEW was here for Dynamite, I needed a quiet place to get away and breathe. The hustle and bustle at the arena had really gotten to me that night, so I was on the hunt for some place I could think and clear my head, and that lead me here. A small park on the outskirts of town where the only thing around was the blanket of stars above and the sound of nature in the background. 

For the third time tonight Y/N surprised me when she agreed to come here with me. She doesn’t know me and got thrown into this date mess just like I did, but she still wanted to come. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen this many stars around here before! It’s amazing how many there really are when you’re not surrounded by city lights,” Y/N said in awe as she looked up at the sky. 

“It’s good to step away from all the noise and brightness from time to time. Back home I like to saddle up and ride a horse out to the meadow and stargaze there. Talk about amazing,” I gushed.

We fell into a comfortable silence until I saw Y/N shiver. “You cold? Here, you can have my jacket,” 

Y/N stopped me before I had it all the way off. “Um, actually we should probably get going. I believe my mom’s friend only paid for a couple hours with you at the auction, I’d hate to take up any more of your time,” she suggested as she stood up. “If you tell me where you’re staying, I can give you a ride there if you’d like,”

I felt a tinge of something when I saw Y/N walk back to her car. Oddly enough, the night that I was dreading all along actually turned out to be pretty amazing. I hated to see it end. There was something about this girl that captivated me in the short amount of time we had spent together, so I had to think fast and figure out a way to see her again.

[thosefuzzywordfeelings]

Did you get a request for fluffy Baron? Cause if not... May I request something just really cute and fluffy? Like maybe reader and Baron all cosy on his couch (like we see him in the movie) and they are eating ice cream, and drinking soda and just giggling about silly things, and he keeps stealing kisses from you?

hi hi! I did not and i’m so happy you did 🥹 ugh i love baron so much bye.

Cooldown Kisses

“I done watched all of these before, there’s a guy with a funny hat and he takes the kids up the mountain. I don’t know what he does with ‘em up there but -“

He rambled on, ice cream coating the entire lower half of his face as he looked at the tv screen. As he spoke, the cartoon played a rickety old man in a cowboy hat taking a mining cart of wailing children up to the top of a canyon. I’d tuned out a while ago, more fascinated by the man cross-legged on the couch next to me. The curtains were drawn, but there was still a hazy orange glow around the room from the sunset outside, paired with a dim glow of the table lamp.

It had been a long day, I’d been doing voluntary work around town; crocheting with some of the old ladies on the street and keeping them company. On my way to the next residents home, I felt somebody poke my shoulder. Spinning round to see who it was, I saw Baron smiling widely on his bicycle as he held out a small package. “It’s for 5175, know you’re going there next.”

I took the package from him, his hand gripping my wrist and pulling me towards the handlebars. He’d leant over them to kiss me, almost falling off as he put one leg out to balance himself. “That’s better, I can work harder now.” He’d said with a grin as he pedalled away.

It was boiling hot, sweat forming on my brow as the crochet hook kept slipping from everyone’s clammy palms. But I’d made some kind of small crocheted coaster regardless, little lady Pat complimenting me on the needlework. I’d given her a sticky hug before telling her I’d see her tomorrow, desperate to get home to the goofy postal boy I’d only seen for a minute.

Here we were, a junky metal fan doing reverse psychology on the two of us as it blew hot air around the room, sitting on either end of the couch to try and get cool as the sun set. Ice cream was the only suggestion left as we gathered scoops and scoops into bowls, but mine had melted.

“You just wasted a good four dollars o’ strawberry swirl, hon.” Baron said suddenly, drawing me out of the trance I’d had on him. I looked down at the pink soup I’d unintentionally made in my bowl before looking up at him with a smile.

“Could say the same for you, darlin’, you’re wearing about two dollars of vanilla around your face.” His tongue darted out around his mouth, searching for any leftovers. But he was missing tragically. I shuffled over on my knees, sitting back on them next to him on the couch as he looked up at me with his silly big brown eyes.

“Want me to help you save money?” I giggled down at him, stroking his hair away behind his ears. He nodded, his mouth dropping open in that cute, dumbfounded way. Eda coughed a little, drawing both of our attention until she sighed and stopped. Turning back to each other, Baron’s hands gripped my hips, pulling me onto his lap before very quickly pecking my lips and taking me by surprise.

“You done got a pink nose now. Like ice-cream Rudolph.” He mumbled, looking over my face and then back up to my eyes. I giggled at his comment, my thumbs running over his sticky cheeks gently. I pulled his face closer to mine, but just as his eyes fluttered closed I stuck my tongue out, messily licking ice cream from across his chin and nose. He fought me off, chuckling and trying to hide his face from the attack.

“Problem solved, no more wasting that strawberry swirl.” I said proudly, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. Those twinkling eyes looked at me with awe, though I didn’t know what was so entrancing about the blob of strawberry ice cream sitting on the tip of my nose.

With gentle hands, he pulled my face down closer to his before kissing the strawberry ice cream off softly. “See. Don’t have to be so goddamn violent about it.” He grinned, pressing his lips to mine.

“I was not violent. I’m just trying to get cool and save dollars, Baron.” I chuckled against his mouth, as his arms wrapped around my waist. The humidity of the room suddenly didn’t exist, just the taste of strawberry and the feeling of him. Minutes of kisses passed by, before he pulled away and looked me in the eyes.

“Yeah so, now the funny old man pushes the cart back down the mountain but the kids ain’t in there no more. Somethin’ ‘bout the silence used to give me the jeebies.” He spoke out of nowhere. I looked over my shoulder to see exactly what he was describing on the TV, rolling my eyes as I pulled his attention back to the cooldown kisses again.

[holybatgirlz]

going to the chapel | chapter 1

read on ao3 (next chapter)

Summary:

“Three days?” she yelped. “I thought you said next week.” “Three days is next week.” Sophie frowned. “Oh. You’re right. Monday, then?” (An Offer from a Gentleman by Julia Quinn, Chapter 23) What happened in the days leading up to Benedict and Sophie’s wedding.

Word Count: 8.3k

--

Friday

Benedict was in a perpetual state of joy and bliss from the moment he woke up.

The morning after freeing his fiancee – his Lady in Silver, the wonderful, beautiful, kind, lovely, stunning Sophie Beckett – from a jail cell she’d been whisked away to while his back was turned and a near sentence of penal transportation to Australia, the bliss he felt was one he’d never experienced before. And one he only prayed would continue. 

The woman of his dreams, a woman he’d thought lost, one he hadn’t even realized had been standing before him for close to a month until a few days ago, was currently held protectively in his arms. Snoozing peacefully, with her mouth open slightly as she slept with her head against his chest, her golden curls tickling his chin and jaw. Her smooth, unblemished skin almost glowed in the sunlight peeking through the curtains in thin slivers.

She slept without a care for the world, still sleeping off their exploits from the night before. Benedict could only lay there and stare, watching as her chest gently rose and fell. The only thing covering her modesty right now was a thin blanket covering the two of them. 

He could spend the rest of eternity like this. And he wanted to. He wanted to stay here, forever. Undisturbed. 

“Good morning, Benedict,” a familiar, maternal voice suddenly says behind him.

Fuck.

Benedict froze, recognizing the voice immediately. And she certainly could not have interrupted him at the worst moment. 

When he had placated Sophie during her mid-night panic, assuring her his mother would not mind she’d spent the night with him, he had not been expecting said mother to just show up in his lodgings the next morning. He’d hoped she’d remain at Number 5, silently judging him over her morning cup of tea after he returned Sophie and joined them for breakfast. 

But his darling mother was in fact standing next to the bed as he turned to look over his shoulders, staring down at him with an arched brow and her hands holding her small purse in front of her. An unimpressed expression sat on her face, one that made it evident she was not pleased by his actions. 

How long had she been standing there? Watching him and Sophie sleeping. Not to mention, how the hell did she get into his lodgings? Lord above, Benedict was going to need to speak to his valet of who was allowed into his home while he slept (and certainly if Graves wanted to keep his job for the foreseeable future).

But he’d deal with Graves later. He had his mother to deal with currently. 

“Good morning, mother,” he slowly replied, finding courage quickly as he carefully rolled towards her and untangled himself from Sophie, trying not to disturb her as he moved. “Whatever are you doing here?”

“Well,” she began, voice raising in the sing-song way his mother usually used was partially irked by him or his brothers. Or others. Benedict could feel the sarcasm coming on. “When I realized Sophie had not returned last night, I grew concerned that something may have happened. I thought it best to come check that you were both alright,” she told him flatly.

Benedict coughed, awkwardly, clearing his throat. “Well, as you can see, mother, we are both perfectly fine,” he said.

“And in the nude,” she pointed out simply, cocking her head to the side. “When I promised you a letter from the Archbishop for you to marry Sophie, which I’d like to inform you your brother received this morning, I at least hoped you’d be able to control yourself till then,” she then shook her head in disappointment, tutting to herself. “Three days, Benedict. Could you have not waited?” 

It was already a little late for that.

But Benedict was not about to tell her about that little incident.

Next to him, Sophie shifted suddenly, a soft moan escaping from her lips as she moved, making Benedict jerk with panic. If she woke up and found his mother in the room with them, she’d be mortified. Panicked. That was the last thing he needed. 

“You need to leave,” he told his mother, shooing her towards the door.

“Benedict–” she started. 

“Mother, can you please leave?” he hissed at her quietly, trying to still be polite but an aggressive edge leaked into his tone. 

Sophie rolled on to her back next to him, her eyes still thankfully closed as she settled again, letting out a soft, airy sigh. It appeared they had not fully woken her yet. Her breathing was still calm and steady. It was a miracle she hadn’t already awakened from her peaceful slumber, Benedict knew she was a light sleeper, but that could change soon. She could open her eyes at any moment. 

His mother rolled her eyes at him. “I expect you both dressed and downstairs in the next hour, Benedict. There is much to do if you two are to be married on Monday.” 

“Yes, yes, of course, now go,” he ordered hastily. 

His mother only scoffed at him, shaking her head at him, before making her way out of the room, the sounds of her footsteps as she headed down the stairs echoed through the home. 

And the moment she disappeared, the door clicking shut behind her, Sophie woke up.

She shifted again, moving her arms above her to stretch, the blanket slipping down and exposing her lovely chest as she did. 

“Good morning,” she mumbled happily, a beautiful smile gracing her lips as she blinked the sleep from her eyes and looked up at him.

“Good morning,” Benedict returned and he couldn’t help himself. He leaned down and kissed her soft, plump lips.

And Sophie reciprocated with ease, her hand drifting up to cup his face, her thumb rubbing over his jaw sending sparks through him. He’d only wanted to give her a quick peck, but the feel of her against him, the taste of her, was intoxicating, making him deepen the kiss as he pushed Sophie down against the bed. His hands finding her hips, then her thighs and then–

The realization his mother was currently mere feet away downstairs snapped him back to his senses. She’d come right back up here if they took too long and Benedict did not want to be caught destroying Sophie’s virtue by her. 

Sophie gave him a disappointed pout when he pulled away, one that quickly turned back into a smile. She looked even more beautiful somehow. Her golden curls sprayed out around her head on the pillow like a radiant halo. The sunlight made the honey colored strands shine. She practically glowed. 

Then she yawned. “I should get back to Number 5,” she told him, voice still laced with sleep. “Your mother must be worried about when I’m returning.” 

Right.

“About that…” 

—

“She saw us in bed?”

Sophie had been up and moving the moment Benedict informed her his mother was waiting for them downstairs, hastily throwing on the dress Violet had been kind enough to bring over with her. Another one of his sister’s old gowns. This one was one of Daphne’s, a soft baby blue with silver embroidered leaves wrapping around the skirt and on the tulle sleeves. With a matching silk capelet in the same color. 

Baby blue, the Bridgerton colors. His mother was dressing her as if she was already a member. Frankly, she had been since Sophie arrived. She’d never been made to wear any maid’s uniform. As if his mother somehow knew she would inevitably join their family before one could be made.

God, Benedict would forever be grateful to his mother, who had accepted Sophie as one of her own and treated her as if she was another Bridgerton daughter. 

Benedict watched as Sophie pulled her loose, messy curls up and into a bun, pacing back and forth in her panic.

“Sophie, it’s fine–” he started, trying to calm her down.

“She saw us in bed! Together!” Sophie repeated, a loud whispered hiss.

“There isn’t much she can do about it now,” Benedict returned with a laid back shrug, which only made Sophie spiral faster. Pushing off the bed and up to his feet, he came to her side, gently resting his hands on her shoulders, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “Sophie, we’re going to be married in a few days. It’s not like we’ll be sharing a bed for the foreseeable future.” 

“Your mother just saw me in bed, naked, laying next to you!” Sophie quietly hissed again.

“You were completely covered. She saw nothing,” he assured her with a light, playful tone, rubbing his hands up and down her arms. 

Sophie gave him a look, one that only made him chuckle as he moved in to kiss her gently on the lips this time. She let him, relaxing a little against his body, although her lips were still pursed with discomfort and embarrassment when he pulled away.

“Come on,” he told her, retying the capelet ribbons for her.

She followed him without argument, still nervous as they made their way down to where his mother was waiting for them. 

But Violet Bridgerton only acted like nothing had happened, smiling warmly at Sophie as she greeted her, embracing her in a quick, maternal hug. One that allowed her to shoot Benedict a disapproving look over Sophie’s shoulder, as if he was at fault for Sophie’s spending the night.

Well, he was, but Benedict felt no shame or guilt over it. Only flashing his mother a mischievous, proud smile. 

“I’ve already called for the modiste now that we have the Archbishop’s approval. Madame Delacroix was kind enough to come to us to get your measurements. You’ve had such a hectic last few days it may be easier she come to us so you can take it easy today. I have a few ideas for floral arrangements that we can go over and the cook will need to know your favorite meals so we can have them for the reception. But first, let's get you back to Number 5 so you can eat something.” 

“Oh?” Sophie blinked in surprise, her mind seemed to have stalled as she tried processing all the information his mother had just given her. The realization hit her that there was much to do if they were to be married on Monday. 

“Is everything alright dear?” his mother asked.

Sophie looked between the two of them, nervously. “I only thought it would be a simple wedding. What with the rush.” 

Violet frowned. “Why ever would we do that? We can keep the ceremony and reception small, if that's what you want, but that doesn't mean you don't deserve a full celebration."

Seeing the wide eyed, nervous expression Sophie gave her back, Violet gave a small chuckle.

“You’ll be fine,” she assured her, smiling fondly. “I’ve been through this process before. You have nothing to worry about.” 

“If anyone knows how to plan a wedding, it’s my mother,” Benedict added, coming up behind Sophie.

“Which reminds me. You–” Violet said, pointing a finger at her second born. “–are going with your brother to the tailor. Today. I don’t want you anywhere near Number 5 until dinner.” 

Benedict’s smile dropped. He still wasn’t ready to part from Sophie, not after everything they’d gone through yesterday. The past few days. He still had much he wanted to speak with her about, and he’d hoped to be able to spend more time with her, even if it meant suffering through discussions on flower arrangements and wedding preparations. For Sophie, Benedict would endure anything. He wanted her to have everything and anything she wished. 

And he wouldn’t deny he had every desire to see her in her gown before the ceremony. Something he knew his mother and sisters would make sure did not happen. 

“Can it not wait till this afternoon?” he asked his mother. “I have more than enough suits the tailor can work off. I’m more than welcome to assist you two with the other preparations.” 

Violet only raised a brow at him. “I do believe your brother has some matters to discuss with you now that you are to be married. Regarding your inheritance. Besides, I think you two will be alright spending time apart for the next few days. Don’t you?” 

Sophie's cheeks went pink as she stood between them, no doubt reminded about what Violet had discovered her doing with her son.

Benedict groaned, shoulders slumping as he whined. “Mother–”

Violet only held up a hand, silencing him. “Come. Sophie needs her breakfast and Miss Delacroix will be arriving before noon. No point standing here discussing matters so let us go.” 

Linking her arm with Sophie’s, Violet then began leading her from the room. Sophie flashed Benedict a worried look over her shoulder as she was taken away, but Benedict could do nothing to stop.

Had he been smarter, he could have departed to Gretna Green this very morning, before his mother arrived, but there was nothing that could be done about it now. His mother wanted to see him married, and to Sophie there was no doubt about it, and now that she had her chance, she was going to make sure he got the exact same treatment Anthony and Daphne had gotten when they tied the knot. 

Christ, it was going to be a long weekend.

Sophie, never the one to believe she would one day marry (let alone have the money to afford more then a small service), had been unaware up to this moment exactly how many different shades of white a bridal gown could come in. 

Ivory, champagne, off-white, cream, pearl, seashell, diamond, porcelain. It was all beginning to make her head spin. 

She was beginning to believe it was nothing but a scam.

(Not that she thought it appropriate to be wearing white to her wedding in the first place, given her virtue had flown out the widow quite quickly when she found herself alone with Benedict. Twice now.) 

But Violet and the modiste were still debating which shade of white her gown would be, all while Sophie stood between them wearing nothing but a simple cotton shift, with a million little silver pins sticking in it, one Madame Delacroix had her wear so she could better gauge her measurements. Sophie was certain this was how dolls felt. 

Violet held up another swatch of white fabric next to Sophie’s face and hummed. 

“The silk you have in pearl does make her look quite heavenly, but the diamond white one makes her hair almost glow,” she said to Madame Delacroix as she held the fabric swatch next to another one, seeming utterly confounded by the two fabrics. “What do you think, Sophie?”

If she was honest, they looked exactly the same. They all did.

“I like them both,” she supplied, weakly, frankly unsure which was which.

“You said that about the last two fabrics,” Hyacinth called out from the settee, where she and her sisters had all been watching and commenting from afar. 

The youngest Bridgerton and her elder sister Eloise seemed to be utterly bored by the conversation at this point, while Posy and Francesca, who was newly engaged just like Sophie, were completely enraptured by what was happening. No doubt Francesca was planning on how her own wedding gown would look. Madame Delacroix had brought with her a book of new designs she was working on, which Francesca had slowly been going through as the modiste tended to Sophie, studying each drawing as if looking at the layout of a battlefield map and going through the same batch of white fabric swatches her mother had been going through for Sophie’s dress.  

“I think they're both lovely,” Posy added sweetly. 

While still a little nervous, Posy seemed to already be adapting well to her new life living with the Bridgertons. Her items had been unceremoniously dropped at the doorsteps of Number 5 by a carriage from Penwood House, which Sophie and Benedict had witnessed when they arrived at Number 5 that morning. The Penwood carriage was already departing down the road as the Bridgerton one pulled up.

And while there was some skepticism from Eloise and Hyacinth towards their new ward and roommate, that Sophie had noted when she arrived, no doubt confused as to how Posy Reiling had ended up coming to stay with them, they’d softened somewhat upon the realization that Sophie was quite happy to see her. 

Her future sisters-in-law still did not know the full story of Sophie’s background, that was still only between Sophie, Violet, Benedict and Anthony for now (although Sophie had a suspicion Francesca may have already caught on and that the viscountess Kate probably knew as well), but none of them objected to the news Sophie and Benedict were to be married. Hyacinth especially was ecstatic at the news Sophie would now be her sister and had already declared herself the flower girl for the ceremony, without Benedict or Sophie’s asking her. 

“They look the same if you asked me,” Eloise remarked flatly, not even looking up from the book she was reading as she lay slumped against the settee.

Violet’s lips pressed into a tight line as she regarded her daughter. The older woman appeared to be trying not to lecture her daughter on the obvious differences between the two fabrics and was so far successful at holding her tongue. 

“I think we’re getting a bit too caught up on the details, mother,” Francesca, ever the mediator, added kindly. “Sophie will look beautiful in whatever gown she wears, but maybe she should be the one deciding that.”

“Oh, I really don’t mind,” Sophie told them all. 

“No, no, Francesca’s right,” Violet replied, giving her a warm smile. “My apologies, I’m getting a bit too excited aren’t I? Why don’t you and Madame Delacroix discuss while Hyacinth and I decide on her outfit for Monday?”

Behind her Hyacinth immediately perked up. The young girl jumped to her feet and speedily raced towards the more colorful and bold fabric swatches the modiste had also brought with her, all laying on the nearby table, snatching up a few she’d been eying from afar. 

“Of course, Lady Bridgerton,” Madame Delacroix said with a polite nod.  

As Violet practically glided to where Hyacinth was standing, the two beginning to discuss her flower girl dress, Sophie was left awkwardly standing with Madame Delacroix, who had also seemed equally uncomfortable at the idea of being left alone with her and had been since their introductions. 

But the modiste quickly plastered on a cheerful smile, one Sophie recognized as a laborer’s smile. Put on to placate employers and customers no doubt. “Now, Miss Beckett, what did you have in mind?” she asked.

“Um…” Sophie hesitated. “I’m not quite sure.”

“Are there fabrics you prefer? A style sleeve or cut you like? Lace or frills? Details? With the time constraints we’re under, I’ll be limited to what fabrics I have in my shop currently. I won’t be able to get a custom embroidery for you I’m afraid,” the modiste explained. 

“Oh, that’s alright,” Sophie told her, feeling utterly out of her depth and overwhelmed. 

Madame Delacroix seemed to notice her discomfort. “Why don’t we start with colors? Something simple maybe? White?”

She gave her a soft smile as she spoke, one which assured Sophie she would be perfectly fine with whatever she chose.

Sophie nodded. “Yes, I think plain old white is fine with me.”

“Now, do you prefer silk or cotton? Velvet will be a little too warm with the summer weather we are having but cotton or linen will breathe a little better. Linen breathes the best and will keep you cool, but silk is light too and has the added bonus making the gown look more regal and expensive. Because it is,” the modiste added with a wink.

“Oh, I think linen will be fine. I don’t want to be spending too much–” Sophie quickly started.

“Anthony asked me to inform you not to worry about cost so you can pick whatever you please,” Violet called out from across the room, not looking up from the designs she was reviewing with Hyacinth. “And silk will feel much softer than linen.” 

“As long as it does not rain, you will look incroyable ,” Madame Delacroix told her.

Sophie frowned, noting once again that something was off about the modiste’s french. While Sophie’s father had been rather hands off in her care growing up, he had gotten her a French tutor straight from Paris, one who had made sure Sophie’s accent and pronunciation of the French language was not one of a lowly peasant but one that matched with the educated and wealthy nobles. Something Sophie had always found funny given her tutor was an old revolutionary, who’d been more than welcomed to explain to her his experiences in Paris during the revolution and the bloody Reign of Terror which had followed (and in gruesome detail) without her even requesting him to, which had been quite a lot for the then seven year old Sophie to take in. But while he would philosophize to her about the rights of the people to live freely without a monarchy and his beliefs about how laborers should be treated, he was an educated man who cherished his language and was particular about the way it should be spoken. 

But it wasn’t the accent that had caught Sophie’s attention, it was that Madame Delacroix seemed to only use a small set list of words, mainly compliments, simple words too like 'hello' and 'goodbye,' while also writing all of her notes and measurements in English. Which was odd, given Sophie assumed all of the modiste’s personal matters would be written in her native language. It had been the same with her old tutor. 

She was beginning to wonder if Madame Delacroix was truly the French Parisian she claimed to be.

“I suppose silk will be fine,” she told her with a small nod. She’d probably look quite nice in silk and a soft fabric would be more comfortable, even if she was certain she would be sweating buckets due to her nerves.

“And while I would recommend you add gold details, I believe silver would be Mr. Bridgerton’s preference?” Madame Delacroix said somewhat knowingly. 

Sophie found herself nervously nodding in agreement. She wouldn’t deny she enjoyed the idea of calling back to their first meeting. Benedict would certainly enjoy it. 

Madame Delacroix smiled as she pulled at the fabric of the pinned dress Sophie was in, eyeing it as if she was imagining the finished product in her mind. 

“I have a few embroidery fabrics I can show you that I think will go nicely. And I know Mr. Bridgerton enjoys a lower neckline versus a cinched waist. He always says it's because of the detail in the embroidery of the fabrics, but that’s never where his eyes truly look. But he does find simplicity to be quite pretty too. And I think you’ll look good in a low square cut or maybe a sweetheart with a tulle or chiffon overlay. Like a Grecian goddess. I have a nice silver white with some lace doves I think will look good. He’ll certainly enjoy it,” Madame Delacroix continued with a fond chuckle.

Sophie nodded along, but found herself momentarily surprised and confused by some of the words she was using. “I’m sorry? He’ll enjoy what?”

Which is when Sophie also realized the modiste somehow knew about Benedict’s searches for the Lady in Silver. That had never been in a Whistledown Report, and Benedict told her he’d limited his conversations to family and a few close friends. 

Madame Delacroix's smile faltered for a moment, her eyes widening as if she’d been caught before she laughed and waved her hand flippantly at her. “I mean men are so easily distracted, no? From how his sisters speak he sounds to be so blinded by your beauty and charm all we can do is amplify it. And with Mr. Bridgerton being an artist, should detail not reflect in his bride’s gown?” 

“Um, I…I suppose,” Sophie replied, still feeling a little confused. 

The modiste had sounded so familiar with Benedict, as if speaking of an old friend-an old flame, that Sophie was momentarily thrown by it, but she supposed Madame Delacroix, one of the most popular modistes in all of London, was so used to dressing the nobles and wealthy women of society she’d come to learn quite a lot about what man liked and did not like.

And, Sophie couldn’t ignore that the Bridgertons typically had their gowns all done by her, she’d probably overheard something during a fitting. Violet might have spoken to her about her sons for all she knew. 

“When I’m done with your gown you look as though you came out of one of his paintings. And he certainly won’t be able to keep his hands off you,” Madame Delacroix added. Then, a little louder, she announced. “Well, I believe I have everything I need for your gown, Miss Beckett. Lady Bridgerton, have you and Miss Hyacinth decided on her gown?”

“Yes, I believe Hyacinth knows exactly what she wants,” Violet replied, sounding somewhat exasperated, as she sat next to a very excited, vibrating Hyacinth. 

“Let me help you get out of this first so you can change,” Madame Delacroix told Sophie as she began plucking some of the pins from the fabric wrapped around her. “I’m certain you are tired of standing around like a stiff mannequin.” 

Sophie nodded her understanding, still processing their interaction, but she found it best to just shrug it off. It was easily explainable, nothing she needed to worry about.

And, if anything, she could probably talk to Benedict about it. If it truly was still bothering her.

“How the hell were you able to stay so calm when you were getting married?” Benedict called out as he slumped into a chair in his brother’s office, while Anthony bee-lined for the whiskey the moment behind him. 

The pair of them had just returned from a visit with the tailor, one where Benedict thought his head was going to explode from how many unnecessary suggestions the owner had kept making. Just make a simple wedding suit, in black, there was no need for anything extra. The damn man should already have his measurements. It shouldn’t be so difficult. 

And the longer they had stayed there, the longer he was kept from reuniting with Sophie.

Anthony downed the large glass he’d poured, personally at his wits end with his brother after their adventure at the tailor, then poured two more. He brought both over with him as he headed to his desk and handed one to Benedict as he passed. 

“Because I’m an incredibly patient man, who knew that I had not only fulfilled my duties to this family but was marrying the woman I loved,” his brother informed. “It was worth the wait.” 

“Are you referencing the first or second one when you say that?” Benedict mockingly asked, getting a sharp glare for it in return.

“The second,” Anthony deadpanned. “Obviously.” 

Benedict snickered as he took a sip of his glass. “I’m still surprised you and Kate didn’t pressure the Archbishop for permission to marry earlier.”

“We certainly thought about it, but there was enough going on that a three week wait would give the ton enough time to move on. And Whistledown gave us the added blessing by barely writing about it,” Anthony returned as he took a seat, slumping into his chair in a similar manner to Benedict yet somehow still rigid and with a noble ease becoming of a viscount.

“She’ll certainly have something to say when she hears about this,” Benedict remarked. 

“As will the rest of the ton no doubt,” Anthony added.

Benedict felt his gut twist inside him at the thought, but in all honesty it was something he had no interest in discussing right now. No matter how much he tried to ignore it, the way the ton would react to his choice in a wife would happen. And in the way he knew it would. 

But while he could care less about what the ton thought about him, he was more worried about Sophie. She was no doubt about to get wicked assumptions and cruel opinions made about her by people who’d only just learned she existed. She didn’t deserve that.

“Mother said you wished to speak of my inheritance,” he said to his brother, wanting to move the conversation along so his mind would not seize with panic over Sophie’s well being. He needed a distraction. And fast.  

Anthony nodded, grabbing a stack of papers and handing them over to Benedict. “There are a few final pieces of father’s will, which I know you already are aware of. Some paperwork you’ll have to sign. There are all matters that would be handed to you once you were married, including your inheritance. Along with a few final items father left to you. Are you and Sophie planning to remain in London?”

Benedict shook his head as he scanned the documents. “Sophie prefers the country. And I don’t want her anywhere near the talk I know is about to start come Monday.”

His brother nodded. “The ton will certainly be interested in how a Bridgerton came to have a rushed marriage with a country maid.” 

There was nothing rude or snide in his tone, just a direct truthful remark of their situation, but only reminded Benedict of the precarious situation he was still in with Sophie. His anxiety, still trying to worm its way through his body, continued its slow progression towards his thoughts.

They may have prevented Araminta from informing the entire city the circumstances of Sophie’s birth, but she was still considered of the lower class. And marrying up no less. Everyone and their mother was about to have an opinion on this, regardless of how much social standing his family had. 

But Anthony didn’t seem interested in lingering on that matter either. Besides, he knew their mother, Kate and Daphne were all working on it behind the scenes. Implementing a plan to help manage the rumors and whispers that would no doubt reach a fever pitch once someone discovered the Archbishop acceptance. 

“There are a few estates in Kent if you wish to remain near Aubrey Hall.”

“My Cottage is fine enough for the both of us,” Benedict replied.

Anthony raised a brow in surprise. “She doesn’t find it too small?”

Benedict chuckled. “She thinks it's huge. And it's only a little smaller than this place,” he told him, motioning to their surroundings. 

The Bridgerton House fit his entire family and then some. My Cottage was roughly the same square footage, but with a few less rooms. It was the land that was far more expansive than the home. 

“And you forget. Sophie grew up in a far grander home than we did,” he added. 

“Hence my inquiry. Gunningworth was quite wealthy and the Penwood estate is an incredible sight I’ve been told,” Anthony said with a hum as Benedict took the quill and ink and began signing the documents. “Which reminds me, the new Earl of Penwood has made an appearance in the city.” 

“All of the sudden?” Benedict said with a frown.

The eighth Earl of Penwood, a distant Gunningworth cousin from the north who inherited after Sophie’s father died without a male heir, had followed in his predecessor's footsteps. Remaining as far away from society as he could and as much as possible, even more than the late earl had. He was pretty much an enigma. 

“His most likely here for the vote the House of Lords has coming up, but my concern is that he’ll be at Penwood House with a certain dowager countess during this time,” Anthony informed him. 

“You think Araminta will try to sway him to her side?” Benedict asked, growing concern. 

“If he’s smart he will know that revealing Sophie’s true heritage will cause him more problems than solutions. And if he was aware of what the real will said regarding Sophie’s dowry and that he did nothing to guarantee that she received it, it would make him look as though he cannot control his own house. He’ll look weak in the eyes of other noblemen. And we can also threaten him with financial ruin if it comes to it given the fraud that occurred,” Anthony replied. 

“But that won’t stop him ruining Sophie’s reputation in the process,” he returned.

“I don’t know much about him to gauge what kind of man he is, or what he’ll do,” Anthony told him. “Has Sophie ever mentioned him? His character?”

Benedict thought it over for a moment. “She was quite certain he was a drunkard. Said she realized it later. He spent most of the funeral and the reading of the will, red-faced and drinking from a flask. But other than that, she hardly interacted with him. She’d never met him until the funeral and she never saw him again after Araminta moved to Penwood House.”

“A drunk means a potential issue with impulse while in public,” Anthony commented, making Benedict only tense more. “I’ll keep an eye on it. There is a meeting tomorrow morning at the House of Lords. One he’ll be expected to show his face at. Simon and I will try to seek him out. See if we can get an idea what kind of man he is.”

“Don’t tell Sophie,” Benedict blurted out suddenly. “Sorry, I…I don’t want her worrying. She’s dealt with enough this week already.”

Anthony nodded. “I won’t. But I’ll let you know what I find out.”

“Thank you,” Benedict told him, rising from his feet. He now more than ever wanted to get to Number 5. “I’m going to head over and check on her. See how she’s fairing with our dear mother.”

“Kate and I will be over with the boys in an hour for tea,” Anthony replied. “I have some matters to attend to first, but I’ll see you then. And Benedict?”

“Yes?”

“I haven’t been able to say it yet, but congratulations. Sophie’s a welcomed addition to the family. I wish you both nothing but happiness,” Anthony told him sincerely. “You both deserve it.”

“Thank you brother,” Benedict replied with a small smile. 

“You ready?” his brother added.

“Completely,” Benedict answered without hesitating. 

Anthony gave him a small, proud smile as he quietly regarded him, before it vanished and he waved him along, back to business. “Go. I’ll see you later.”

While Sophie had thought the visit with the modiste had left her with her head spinning, the meetings with the florist and the cook had been equally overwhelming. 

And exhausting.

She found herself all but collapsing on the settee. After the florist had left and Violet and Sophie had met with the cook, Francesca had suggested to Posy a trip to the market, so that she and her sisters could get to know her better.

(And also so that Sophie would have a chance to breathe.)

They’d all just departed with a few lady’s maids, leaving Sophie and Violet as the only ones in Number 5. It was the first time Sophie had felt silence descend in the home since she’d arrived that morning. Both her and Violet seemed ready to take a break. Violet had already asked Mrs. Wilson to fetch them some tea so they could take a few moments to relax before Anthony and his family arrived. 

“Mother,” Benedict announced cheerfully as he suddenly entered the room. “Don’t you look radiant as ever.”

Violet, who’d been sitting in the settee across from Sophie and was about to ask her something, stopped, whipping around to look over her shoulder at where her son had suddenly materialized in the doorway behind her. She looked surprised to see him here so early. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be at the tailor?” she told him, flatly, watching him as he immediately crossed the room to where Sophie was, bypassing her completely. 

“Already finished,” Benedict replied as he took a seat next to his fiancee, pressing a kiss to Sophie’s cheek. “How are you?” he whispered in her ear.

“Good,” Sophie replied. “Tired.”

“Has my mother driven you mad yet?” he asked mischievously, his arm slithered around the back of the sofa, behind Sophie’s head, his hand coming to rest on her shoulder. “She certainly had that effect when she’s in planning mode.” 

“I am sitting right here, Benedict,” Violet informed her son curtly. 

“How are you mother? How goes the wedding planning?” Benedict asked, as if he hadn’t said anything to Sophie. 

Violet's first response was to take a deep breath. “Well. Madame Delacroix should have the gown ready by Sunday and Sophie and I picked out some lovely arrangements. The cook also will want your input–”

“I’m fine with whatever Sophie picked. I trust her judgement completely,” Benedict assured her. 

“She wanted pickle herring,” Violet deadpanned.

Sophie gave her a bewildered look. She most certainly had not picked that. 

But, she quickly realized that was the point. That Violet was merely lying in an attempt to fool her son, who was momentarily stunned by her statement. 

“Well…that is…” Benedict stumbled to find the words. It took a few moments of uncomfortable silence before he did. “That’s fine. I love pickle herring.” 

“You hate pickle herring,” his mother informed him.

Benedict bristled. “I do not.”

Violet appeared to be fighting with herself not to roll her eyes at him. “Benedict, you hate pickled anything. Have hated it since you were a child.”

“I do not,” he argued back.

She couldn’t help it. Sophie started chuckling, catching Benedict’s attention and revealing the ruse. 

“I didn’t pick pickle herring,” she whispered, coming to his rescue. “I don’t like pickle herring either.” 

Benedict blinked at her in surprise, before looking over at his mother, mouth open and aghast. Almost wounded like.

“Mother,” he gasped. “How could you?”

But Violet only shrugged.

“You’re allowed to have differences, Benedict. And you should,” she told him. “It’s a good thing. It means you're honest with one another. For years, I told your father I liked the way the cook made lemon tarts when in actuality I thought they were far too sour,” she then let out a sigh, shaking her head as she recalled the matter. “Your father. Good lord. He couldn’t stop asking the cook to make them for me. I thought I was going to be stuck eating those awful tarts forever.” 

“And yet father kept tight-lipped for most of his life about how awful you were at the pianoforte,” Benedict said with a sly smile. 

Violet gave him a small glower for that remark. “Well, that’s different,” she told them. 

“She’s truly dreadful,” Benedict told Sophie. “That’s why Daphne was made to learn at such a young age. My father was trying to make sure my mother could no longer play because Daphne was using it to practice.” 

“Because that was any better,” Violet said with a scoff. 

“And none of us could tell her,” he continued. “I asked my father once why we couldn’t and he said,” Benedict then cleared his throat, before deepening his voice into an utterly inaccurate imitation of his late father as he spoke. “Son, when a woman asks you for your opinion on her talents, and if you love her very dearly, your safest bet is to always tell her she’s an expert at it.”

“Your father did not say that,” Violet chided with a gasp. 

“My father was a smart man who loved you and knew how to keep you happy,” Benedict returned.

Violet gave him a look that said she still disagreed, but said nothing against it. Behind her, Mrs. Wilson entered carrying a tray, which she brought over towards the table nearby. Seeing the housekeeper, Violet rose to assist her, taking over the pouring and preparing of the cups. 

While she may no longer have been a maid, Sophie, instinctually, got up to go and help her future mother-in-law. But she was prevented from assisting her the moment she moved past Benedict. 

Because she felt a hand come to rest on her behind, which caused her to momentarily tense up, before the hand gathered up a handful of her skirt and tugged sharply back, pulling her backwards and making her lose her footing.

And causing her to land directly on Benedict’s waiting lap. 

It was almost instantaneous. As if she’d been burned, Sophie was immediately pushing herself back up to stand. The thought of being caught being improper, in front of Benedict’s family – his mother (again!) – had her adamant to escape from him as fast as possible. Only Benedict’s arm had already snaked around her waist, pulling her back and keeping her pinned against him as she heard him chuckle in her ear. All while Violet had her back still turned to them as she continued to pour her cup, unaware of what was transpiring behind her.

“Let go,” Sophie hissed quietly as she wiggled. 

“No,” Benedict whispered into her, she could hear the smile on his face as he spoke. Then she felt his lips gently press a kiss on the back of her neck, making her tense up. 

“Stop it,” she ordered quietly. 

Benedict hummed as he thought it over. Then she felt another soft kiss. “No.”

“Benedict–” she started quietly, but he only chuckled lightly, his breaths tickling her neck and making her shiver. 

His hands roaming over her sides and towards her inner thighs. Even with the fabric covering her, Sophie felt exposed, as if his fingers were touching skin. Warmth began pooling below her stomach. A familiar tight feeling following, one which she couldn’t tell was desire or anxiety.

“Might you both please save it for the honeymoon?” Anthony’s voice suddenly interrupted them with a sigh. 

They both glanced over and found him, with Miles held comfortably in his arms, standing in the doorway. Behind him was Kate and little Edmund, who had rushed ahead of his parents after Newton and into the room to greet his grandmother, yelling his greeting loudly as he rushed to her side. 

Violet turned, right as her grandson impacted with her to give her a big hug, and spotted the pair immediately. Her light blue eyes widening in shock before she shot Benedict a harsh look. Sophie’s cheeks burned as she shifted her hips and rolled off his lap and onto the settee next to him, but Benedict still kept one arm protectively around her, his hand resting on her thigh. And unlike her, he was not at all embarrassed by being caught by his family. He only smiled sharply at his brother, a mischievous glint still lingering in his eyes.

“As if you and Kate were any better. If the desk in your office had any semblance of sentience it would be traumatized by what it's seen you two do on it,” he shot back, which made Kate let out a loud laugh as she entered the room. Anthony only shook his head at him in disgust as he followed his wife. 

“Benedict. Behave,” Violet admonished. Sophie was beginning to wonder if it was possible for someone to just melt into a puddle due to sheer embarrassment. 

“You’re disgusting,” Anthony remarked. “And for that, you can take your nephew.” 

Antony then handed over his youngest. The little baby happily squealed as he was taken into his uncle’s arms, reaching out to grab Benedict’s face. Benedict returned the squeal by blowing a big raspberry at his nephew, poking his tongue out at him, which only made Mile’s descend into a greater fit of laughter. 

“Hello Miss Sophie,” Edmund greeted her suddenly by wrapping his arms around her legs.

“Hello Edmund. How are you?” Sophie asked. 

The young boy looked up and gave her a bright smile, his round cheeks going pink. In the very brief time Edmund had known his aunts’ new lady’s maid it had become quite apparent that he liked her. As if she’d become a new toy, Edmund had spent most of his visits to Number 5 chatting happily with her and telling her just how much he liked her. 

“How have you been, Sophie?” Kate asked as she came to sit next to her.

“I’m doing well,” Sophie replied.

Kate gave her a smile. “Well, congratulations. We’re all incredibly happy for both of you.”

“Why congratulations?” Edmund asked his mother curiously.

“Oh, that’s right. Remember how I told you on the way here that you’re uncle had some big news,” Kate told her son sweetly, as her husband took a seat on the settee across from them and Violet came over and took Miles from Benedict. 

Edmund nodded. “Uh-huh.”

“Well, your uncle is getting married. To Miss Sophie,” Kate cheerfully told him. 

Edmund blinked up at her. “What?” he asked.

“Didn’t you hear that, Edmund?” Violet said happily. “Miss Sophie is going to be your aunt.”

The little boy’s head whipped towards her at the news. Dark eyes wide with surprise. 

Edmund blinked slowly at them, glancing between his uncle and future aunt, then to his grandmother, and then back to Sophie with an increasing alarm and distressed look as he took in the news. His eyes went bigger and rounder as they suddenly started to fill with watery tears and he began to sniffle. Something had apparently upset him greatly. 

“Edmund, sweetheart. Whatever is the matter?” Kate asked, growing concerned.

The little boy took a deep, shaking breath. Then another. And then another. All while his relatives carefully watched him with mixed expressions of worry and concern, waiting for him to explain himself. But he just kept taking deep breath after deep breath, before letting his head fall back, his mouth opening wide, as he began to wail. Startling Newton, who trotted over quickly to check on him, and also little Miles, who began to get fussy in Violet’s arms from the loud noise. 

“I want to marry Sophie!” Edmund cried out loudly. 

His parents and relatives all immediately sagged with relief as they realized it was not something truly horrible that had pushed the young boy to tears. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” Kate leaned forward to grab him. She had a look of sympathy as she reached out to comfort her son, but there was still a small smile on her face she’d been unable to hold back, finding the reason for her son’s tears utterly adorable.

“Edmund, you cannot marry Sophie,” Violet gently told him with a soft chuckle.

“Why?” Edmund cried back, turning towards his grandmother.

“Because you're too little to be getting married,” Anthony told him, but it only made the boy cry harder. It was as if Edmund had just received the worst news imaginable. 

Benedict had a fist pressed against his mouth as he looked away, focusing on the window behind him, his body shaking as he tried to hold back his laughter. He did not want his poor nephew to see him. 

But Edmund could have cared less about him right now, turning towards Sophie, who seemed to be the only one still concerned about his crying. Mossy eyes wide with surprise and concern as she watched him.

“You can’t marry uncle Ben,” he told her stubbornly, sniffling. 

“Miss Sophie has already said yes to marrying your uncle,” Anthony informed his son, before Sophie had a chance to say anything. 

“But she can’t!” he shouted back dramatically, rubbing his palms over his eyes as he tried to wipe away the tears. A rather sweet and sad sight as the boy practically was smacking his eyes in his attempts. 

“There, there,” Kate cooed as she chuckled, gently laughing as she rubbed her son’s back.

“I was going to marry Miss Sophie,” Edmund repeated as he cried.

While the rest of his family seemed to find his reaction sweet, Sophie was feeling rather guilty over causing the young boy’s tears. Even though Kate was already rubbing his back, gently shushing him and telling him he was alright.

“Would you like a hug, Edmund?” she inquired gently.

Edmund obliged instantly, nodding his head furiously as he rushed over and started climbing up the settee as if he was scaling the Alps. Sophie got her hands under his armpits, helping to pull him up so he sat between her and Kate, after which Edmund threw his arms around her, pressing his face into her side. No doubt leaving a few wet marks on her gown. Sophie gave him a quick, comforting squeeze before letting his sag down into the settee and relax next to her.

“Edmund, I’m very sorry I upset you,” Sophie gently told him, rubbing her hand up and down his back as she comforted him, while Edmund's cries slowly subsided. 

The small boy took a few big gulps of air as he tried to calm himself. Sniffling, he moved his head to keep it rested against her side, his ear pressed right against her lower ribs. 

“It’s alright. I don’t blame you Miss Sophie,” he told her.

But he was looking right at Benedict as he spoke, with a little frown on his typically sweet face. His brows pinched together and his lips pursed into a tight pout as he glared at his uncle. He was the picture of his father suddenly, with the very same expression Benedict recalled Anthony having when they were little and arguing over their toys. Like he expected to be told that Sophie was no longer his and that he’d have to share. 

But Benedict could only chuckled back at his nephew fondly, knowing he was already victorious. 

Finding himself unable to intimidate his uncle, Edmund turned his attention back to Sophie. 

“You’ll live here, right? I’ll still be able to see you?” he quietly inquired, voice tired from all the dramatics but filled with gentle hope that Sophie marrying his uncle meant he would still see her. And more regularly. 

But the answer to that question did not please the young boy at all. 

[yourforeverokay]

"Home" (Elvis Presley x Reader)

word count: 1k

warnings: none

a/n: hey guys! I wanted to start off slow again. I will continue writing What happens in Vegas doesn't stay in Vegas soon but I wanted to give you a little something while waiting for part 3! Thank you for being patient with me and my writing schedule. Hope you enjoy this one! Love you <3

"But Mama!" You whined at your mother, her eyes still focusing on the pot on the stove. "I said no Y/N, now stop whining. You're making a fool out of yourself." You felt tiny under her demanding demeanor.

You and your mother had argued the whole day about a certain "bad boy" as your mother called him. Elvis Aaron Presley...the love of your life. Even though you were young, you weren't dumb and you knew what you wanted. Your mother on the other hand though she knew what was the best for you. Trying to keep you away from all the sins and troubles the boy might cause you to do. He wasn't like that, you knew it. Elvis was a good boy and despite his reputation as a ladies man, you knew he was what you wanted and what you needed.

"Mother, please. I'm begging you to let me go." You went down on your knees in front of your mother, your hands gripping her long skirt. Your mother tried to lift you up but you just sat down, almost feeling defeated. "I don't even know why you like this boy this much? He will only bring problems into our family. And that name Presley, what kind of a name even is that?" Your mother scoffed, turning her back towards you. You had asked your mother to let you leave for a week with Elvis for his new tour. You lived in Tennessee and the tour would include visiting 5 different states, but in your mother's opinion "just one night with that boy is too much for a girl like you". Hearing something like that coming out of your mother's mouth broke your heart into pieces.

"I will leave, now." You wiped away the single tear on your cheek and got up from the kitchen floor. You walked towards the rotary phone which was placed on a table in your long hallway. You dialed Elvis's number and waited for him to pick up.

"Hey baby. How are you?" He picked up in the matter of seconds. "Elvis, I need you now. Please pick me up soon, okay?" You said nervously. "Of course honey, I'll be there in 10." He said with his sweet, sweet voice. Oh god, he was dreamy.

You ran quickly to your bedroom and took a suitcase which you stuffed with all your clothes and books. Taking your diary and the picture of you and your father together when you were a child. You ran back downstairs and as you were changing your shoes you felt your mother grab your elbow. "Young lady, where do you think you're going?" She was eyeing your suitcase, looking furious. "To be with him." You said with confidence and faced your mother.

"Mother, you have always been against us. For ages I let you make fun of him, of me!" You lifted your arms and pointed at yourself. Raising your voice you yelled: "I LOVE HIM." Your mother looked disappointed. "You must think I'm stupid for falling this hard over a singing boy with unknown future but I believe in him. He will make it. I will not tolerate your hatred towards our relationship anymore."

You heard a car pull up in front of your parent's mansion. Your mother let go of your arm and walked towards the front door. She peeked through the curtains and saw a trashy car with Elvis inside it, chewing gum.

She turned around to face you. "If you leave now, you have no reason to come back to this house ever again." She raised her index finger at you. You took your suitcase, put your lipstick on and walked right past her closing the door with a simple: "Goodbye."

Elvis noticed you walking towards his car with tears pooling up in your eyes. He immediately stood up and went to hug you. "Oh honey, what happened?" He looked at you with soft eyes. He held you close and let you ruin his brand new shirt with your lipstick and mascara stains. He stroked your hair and you closed your eyes. "I hate her." Was all you said to him. He kept quiet for a minute.

"Let's go baby. You can explain everything to me later. I'll take you home." He took a hold of your hand as you walked towards the car. He opened the door for you and gave you a kiss on your forehead. Minutes later you were far away from the place you used to call your home. Elvis was now taking you to your real home.

"Home." You said with a quiet voice, smiling slightly to yourself.

"What was that honey?" He asked looking at you while his hands were carefully placed on the steering wheel.

"Nothing." You kissed his cheek.

You were finally going home.

[mushroom-bunn0]

you can run away with me (anytime you want)

servant! Scaramouche x fem! reader

this is my first time writing an x reader so please don't mind the mediocre writing. this was inspired by a character AI chat I've had, so I guess credit to @/lumrine on there for making this AI

summary: Y/N was born into a wealthy family which took people in to work for them as servants. Scaramouche was born into one of the servant families and was appointed as your personal servant. the thing is, neither of you wanted to be born into this life, so how will your relationship change when you both realize that?

Scaramouche was born into a servant family and worked for the wealthy L/N family ever since he was little. At a younger age, he used to help the gardeners and the chefs with some small tasks, but as he grew up he started working as a personal servant for the family's youngest child, Y/N. Your relationship wasn't exactly the usual "servant/master" relationship, due to your relatively small age gap. Because of this, it felt more like when two children are forced to play together, just because their parents were friends.

Despite this, Scaramouche still took his work as a servant seriously, and was currently heading towards your room to wake you up for the day. He reached the room and quietly opened the door. Though the curtains were drawn and the room was shrouded in darkness, he could still see your sleeping form.

He made his way towards the bed and layed his hand on your shoulder and shook you gently. "Good morning, lady Y/N." He waited patiently for the sleeping girl to stir and turn her body towards him.

"Go away, I'm still asleep", the girl said while turning her back to him.

He scoffed at this. So typical. You were always a nuisance in the mornings. He sat down on the bed and sighed. "You know I can't just leave you unsupervised, get up."

You sat up and rubbed her eyes, complaining every step of the way about how it was "too early", even when he was given a clear schedule on when to wake you up.

"What kind of a 'princess' are you, that you don't even get up at the time you've set for yourself" He complained right back while removing the covers from your body.

"A bad one apparently," Y/N chuckled dryly "not like I've ever asked to be born into this stupid family..." your voice fell in volume. The boy looked up to see you swinging your legs over the edge of the bed. He wanted to say something snarky, but then something clicked for him. Y/N didn't want this?

He couldn't understand why. I mean, you would get anything you would ever want, while he had to follow you around all day and barely having time for himself, just so you could get what you needed.

"...I should let you know that your hand maiden is sick, which means I would need to help you get ready" he stood up from where he sat on the bed, his face dusted lightly pink, as he walked over to the big wardrobe.

This isn't the first time he would be helping you get dressed, but recently as the two of you have been growing up together it had made things slightly uncomfortable. I mean, he'd be lying if he said he never thought of how your lips would feel on his.

He was brought back to reality when he heard you saying his name. "Yes, my lady?" He said in a low tone, trying his best to keep it formal and 'servant-like'. "I asked if you could find me a dress to wear" you stated as you walked past him and sat at your vanity while you brushed your hair. "O-Of course", he stuttered out as he got to searching for something for you to wear.

He stuttered? You never really heard him stutter before... almost like he's trying to hide something from you. and was this the first time you saw him blush? He pulled a dress out and held it out for you to see with a questioning look. After you nodded and let him know you approve of his choice you stood up and asked him to turn around while you took your sleeping gown off and the dress on.

After you were done putting it on, you've asked him to help you tie the corset. You can almost hear his heart pounding as his hands brush up against you, and he is quiet as he is tying the corset shut. he moves in front of you to adjust the dress a bit better and looks into your eyes as he finishes fixing it up.

"You look lovely today, my lady. I hope my choice is to your liking" he says quietly as he looks away from you. "I suppose..." you say softly, which makes him question if everything is alright.

"It's just...I hate having to constantly look perfect and being held to a high regard just because I was born into this stupid family. Sometimes I wish I could just have been born as one of the common folk and just...live how I want to" you laughed dryly at that. "Does that sound silly, Scaramouche?"

He shakes his head at that. "No, not at all, my lady...I think that..." He stops himself, trying to find the right words. "I too sometimes wish I wasn't born into my family. Don't get me wrong, your family is incredibly kind to mine and to the other servants, but sometimes I just wish I could have had a normal childhood. I often think of how it would be to live a different life" he says, sounding serious for a moment, although his voice sounded a little shaky.

Y/N laughs bitterly at this. "So you too are sick of my family's nonsense?" a chuckle slips pass your lips. "Perhaps the two of us should run away together" you smile up at him before turning your back to him.

"R-Run away? My lady, that would be against-... What would happen if we got caught?" he sounds panicked, but the thought of running away with you obviously enticing as his face flushes a deep shade of red. "Who cares? You want a different life, and I want nothing to do with this family. It won't be against the rules if I just stopped being your 'master'...". Scaramouche shook his head. "I....what are you saying? "

You walk over to him and grab his face in your hands, slowly pulling your face closer to his, your lips almost touching but never quite connecting. "I want you to run away with me"

Scaramouche feels the warmth of your touch as you hold his face, then feels the soft, gentle lips that are oh so close to his. He's never been this close to you and it's oh so intoxicating. "Run away?" he is completely at your mercy, there is no way he'd say no to you. For a few moments, you see the arrogant Scaramouche you've known all your life break. All that's left in front of you is a poor boy, who's being offered a way out of the life of serving others, by the one person he's promised to serve. You, his beloved mistress. He slowly nodds and let's out a barely audible "I wish to run away with you, my lady".

In this moment, you see that the person you knew him as all your life, was nothing but a mask, a coping mechanism to deal with the harsh life of being a servant. This...This right here is the real Scaramouche. You didn't even have to do anything except to show him any sort of kindness, and he fell head over heels for you. He could never imagine, someone of your high status to be kind, let alone offer to help him run away from his life as a servant, but here you were. It broke your heart to realize just how poorly you treated him, if this was all it took to get him to open up.

You kiss his forehead before sliding your hand down to his and asking him to follow you to the kitchen. As soon as you left your room, you had to take your hand away, our of fear of people finding out. Luckily, you only passed a few servants, and by the time you were in the kitchen, no one was really around.

"Scaramouche... what would you like to eat?"

"Anything you want, my lady."

"No. I'm asking you what you want." you chuckled at his confused expression "I mean... we are running away soon, don't you think it's time we remove this whole 'servant-master' relationship?"

Scaramouche looks at you with wonder, his eyes shining brightly. He's clearly never been spoken to this gently. When you mention removing the 'servant-master' relationship, his mouth gapes. "R-really?", his face is a deep shade of red again.

You smile at him before slowly pressing your soft lips to his. He kisses you back, you feel his hands shake as he cups your face. Now that your servant-master relationship is gone, this is what he'd wanted for so long now. The moment gets cut short with the sound of footsteps nearing the kitchen and it is only now that he's realized it would be bad if the two of you got caught kissing. But the footprints never entered the kitchen.

The both of you laugh softly as the feeling of adrenaline washed over you. You give him one last kiss before leaning towards him and whispering out the time and place of where you two will meet to finally run away from the lives you didn't wish to lead.

I'm sorry for cutting it here but I really didn't know how else to finnish this ahhhh.

idk if anyone even read this, but if you did, you're cool and please give any feedback you have. that's all, okay byee

[sm-baby]

My lil silly brainy brain had a split screen vision and I just had to write it out. Have a ficlet of Bernard and Silvia stuff<3 because beloved.

Word count: 1,491 words 8,354 characters

By bye!! enjoy the thingy (⁠ ⁠´⁠◡⁠‿⁠ゝ⁠◡⁠`⁠)

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In a place far and white, a castle floating in the sky. There worked gifts, bows of many talents, serving an angel with white and gold. But this is not fiction of labour, but a fiction of sleep and chatter.

The rain lightly came to greet the castle and the servants' hall hidden within. Droplets raced down the windows while a maid shut the curtain in its face.

There between the wood and quartz walls were the gifts and presents, servants, with their hair untied and their uniforms off. The men had a room filled with beds on the right half of the building, while women had theirs on the left.

It was almost like children the way they prepared for bed. Women gossiped their hearts out, and the men joked with each other inside the walls.

Oh what could they possibly be saying?

“ Tell us, head butler, what is it about that dim darn housekeeper that irks you so much?” Chuckled the men in the servant's hall. Those who were done with their chores gathered around the head butler, Bernard Fitzgerald, almost as if he was being interviewed.

The snark and chatter in their voices weren’t lost on them, they found the quarrelling between the heads funny and entertaining at times, but they must know! What is all this infighting about?

“ Oh, I’m glad you asked, disgusting peasant.” Bernard played along with the arrogant snark the men held. “ Maybe it’s because she-”

“--’s repulsive, lazy, and annoying!”

And on the other side of the servants’ hall was almost like a mirrored reflection. The maids were not all that different. The giggling women gathered around their senior lady, Silvia Blanca, sharing beds to sit on like she was being interviewed. “And another thing! He-”

“-- never lets me have fun! I mean, come on, I’m a grown man, I didn’t know my mother sent a babysitter out for me. ” Bernard said with a mocking snicker.

The men laughed at his reply and nodded along, he heard some agreeing hums and elbow batting. “ I mean look at how she treats her maids! She just--”

“--Lets them loaf around the moment the queen is out of sight! Really! He’s still working, but he wouldn’t know that considering his crippling lack of object permanence.”

Gasped the maids! They laughed in shock! The head butler really knew how to bring out the madame’s audacity!

Bernard scoffed “ If she worked alone, the maids would be stiff as a board! Machines to serve, I tell you!”

“ He’s childish,”

“ She’s annoying,”

“ A grub,”

“ A goody-two-shoes!”

“ A dimwit!”

“ A know-it-all,”

“ He’s just a man who has no respect for others' time and responsibility.”

“ —And she’s a woman who’d probably wear her own uniform to her funeral. ”

“ Yes, but madame!” spoke up a maid.

“ Sir-- I mean-” cleared the throat of a manservant.

The maid continued. “ The head butler does have a point…! In fact, his antics look sort of fun!”

The manservant spoke. “ You do go a little overboard with what you do sometimes… I mean, it is a job. You can’t argue that her scolding was always unfounded. And--”

“ --have you considered that... Perhaps, him just wanting his men to lounge is-- his way of telling them to care for themselves?”

The two heads blinked over at their junior servants. The juniors clarified:

“ I’m just saying,”

“ That maybe…”

“ Perhaps…”

“ Possibly…”

“ She’s-”

“ --Not as bad as he seems?”

“ And is just-- equally looking out for us the same way you do?”

Silvia blinked to think to herself, while Bernard frowned staring off to try and think of something to say.

“ I suppose he… makes a good host whenever the servants have a get-together..” Silvia looks up at the maids, who can admit, that she was right. They can observe that the head butler could hold his own when introducing a guest.

“ She…” Bernard clicked his teeth, annoyed to admit,“ …is pretty patient with me when I really don’t deserve it.”

some of the butlers shamelessly nodded along, admitting that, yes, the woman does put up with his antics a lot.

“ He convinces the queen to grant you rest days occasionally.”

It was almost like half the building sighed in remembrance of one of said rest days. Oh, sweet heaven. “ You are a little more giggly when he enters the room and tells his jokes.”

“ Hey, who am I to criticize her maids huh? Had it been for her, this site would be more akin to a jungle than a castle .”

some of the men scoffed and flicked their wrists at him, whispering their nooo’s and get outta here’s “ Hey, I’m right, and you know it.”

“ I suppose that I respect the fact that he can be tidy when he wants to…”

“ I guess I like that she can do dirty work around the castle.”

“ He cheers you up after a tiring day.”

“ She defends you when you get yourselves into trouble.”

The two sighed.

“ Oh, you scoundrels.” Bernard groaned annoyed. “ Nice try, you almost had me appreciating her there for a second.”

The men groaned “ Oh come on!”

“ What?? You don’t dictate my emotions. ”

Meanwhile, the women were just smiley, giving eachother advice while they wiped off each other’s makeup.

“ Don’t you get it though? The competition. Is that not at least a little motivating?”

Silvia felt a smile forming on her lips “ … it is very satisfying to prove him wrong a lot. I never considered that he’d see it that way as well.”

A maid gasped! “It’s a bonding thing!”

Ohhh

“ What-” Silvia squinted.

A manservant raised a brow. “ So It’s a sort of power thing? You like being the man of the house?”

“ It’s not fun if she doesn’t put up a fight though.” Bernard replied unsure of himself.

The men went silent, and just raised their brows at the senior butler. Their senior was akin to a boy annoying a girl for her attention, and he couldn't even see it.

“ What!”

“ You like her attention do you, YOU LIKE IT CUZ ITS YOUR WAY OF HAVING FUN WITH HER-”

“ I DON’T KNOW-” Bernard said!

Ding! Dong! Ding, dong..

" Sleep, ladies! We don't want to wake up groggy. "

" Yes, Silvia..." they hummed, putting away their combs and rags.

Silvia felt a soft smile across her lips. What a lovely bunch of ladies she stays with. Yes, they should be off to bed. No crew of hers shall be lacking beauty sleep…

Men and women alike slumbered for a few hours just to serve before the sun rises. Despite their separation, they don't know how similar yet different they are from each other. Both beautiful but in different ways.

Jeremy wouldn't understand how happy Chloe is with her makeup,

Sarah doesn't understand how proud William is of his moustache.

The night brings a breeze that can freeze a teardrop, with blankets warming their wearers just right.

Sleep for the servants, sleep for the bows, sleep for what the queen calls her gifts.

The butler and housekeeper, all with the mannerisms of a parent, were turning off the last lamps. In their eyes, the mother held pride at her hard working women, and the father held joy to see his men sleep well.

As they got into bed, The moon sang a song.

Goodnight, Silvia.

Goodnight, Bernard.

Woosh! Goes the last lantern.

The maids woke up, got dressed, ready to do early work only to spot a silent gathering near the balcony. A number of servants, men and women alike, peeked over from the entrance.

What they were expecting to be the morning alarm, which was the housekeeper and butler's squabbles, became a pleasant and mature conversation at the balcony.

Their higher-ups were still in their morning robes. The junior servants couldn't tell what they were saying, something about a cleaning product they were fond of or what not-- it wasn't important.

What took them off guard was how calm they were-- almost like they enjoyed each other's company. That was what the gathering was about. A chuckle from the butler and a playful groan from the housekeeper. It was as if, for a brief moment, their masks were off, and they were able to find comfort from each other's company.

The bunch shushed each other as they left them to their devices.

A sweet and surprising sight, truly, but there was no doubt in the servants' heads that this was a one-time event. There was a slight thought that they would stay that way, but it's only a matter of time until they'd fight over the same toys all over again...

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[oliverreedmasterass]

Words: 3.8K

Synopsis: Jake and Josh can be such Tauruses sometimes. Jake picks a pointless fight with Josh and it takes them one week to finally let it go (oddly enough, based on the Barenaked Ladies song, One Week) 

Warnings: Language, mentions of drinking, rough housing

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7 Days

Josh laid in his bunk on their tour bus, bumping up and down with every pothole the driver seemed to be hitting on purpose, leafing through one of Sam’s books that he had left sitting around. It was some kind of sci-fi story about machines becoming sentient or something and, as gripping as the story probably was, Josh could feel his eyes starting to droop. He would have been out within the next few minutes if it wasn’t for Jake tearing the curtain back from his bunk and thrusting his head inside. 

“Woah!” Josh called out, juggling the book in his hands and losing his page. He met Jake’s eyes and saw that his face looked placid, although pensive, as if something was on his mind. “Can’t a guy get some peace and quiet?” he decided it was safe to ask. Jake met his eyes and cocked his head to the side. 

“I’m angry,” he stated flatly, as if he was giving someone his sandwich order. 

“Okay?” Josh guessed. Sometimes it was hard to read exactly what was going through his twin’s head; the guy was like an enigma half the time. 

“At you,” Jake finally finished his sentence, as if he had just decided that fact in the moment. 

“At me?” Josh was growing wary. “What did I do?”

“You know what you did,” Jake’s tone was disturbingly level. Josh decided it was best to hide behind the hardcover of Sam’s book as an extra layer of protection in case Jake started to get physical. He was acting like a ticking time bomb, and it made Josh’s skin crawl. 

“I don’t think I do,” Josh responded, his face shoved in the book. “I think you’re probably mad at Sam instead.” 

“No, it’s you,” Jake retorted. Josh snuck a peek at his brother and saw that he was gazing at Josh in interest, as if challenging him. 

“I feel like you’re just trying to get a rise out of me. We’ve been on this bus long enough, you’re bored and want something exciting to do.” 

“You’re crazy,” Jake stepped away from Josh’s bunk to throw his hands up in the air. Josh heard him stomp to the back of the bus where he started to violently thrash away on his acoustic guitar. That seemed to settle that. Josh knew Jake well enough: he had nailed it on the head and Jake was upset that he saw through his bullshit. He’d have to try a lot harder to get Josh riled up for his own entertainment. 

Josh flipped through the pages of the book, trying to find where he had left off while listening to Jake’s rapid strumming patterns echoing through the bus over Danny and Sam’s chatter. They were in the front of the bus playing cards, keeping out of Jake and Josh’s business: they knew better than to get involved in any of their irrational arguments. Josh was certain that they had listened to everything though. Things could get really boring on the bus. 

He finally found where he had left off and started to read a few more sentences that flew straight over his head when he heard Jake’s guitar playing come to a stop and his footsteps approaching his bunk once more. Josh said a silent prayer, hoping that Jake’s fury wasn’t returning for a second round. He heard Jake knock on the wood outside his bunk and cautiously peeled the curtain back so he was eye to eye with his brother. Jake dropped the hand he had used to knock back to his side and held both his hands in tight fists. 

“I’m sorry,” he said down to the ground. Josh studied him and knew deep in his gut that he should accept his apology and move on, but Josh was a Taurus. He wasn’t built that way. 

“I don’t accept your apology,” he said, closing the curtain on Jake’s face. Josh wished he could have taken a photo of the look Jake made as he did that: he looked as though he had just walked in on Dave Grohl in the bathroom. 

“Really?” he called from the other side of the curtain. 

“Really,” Josh calmly replied back, opening his book once more. He heard Jake huff and trudge to the front of the bus, where he was sure to be complaining to Sam and Danny. Josh couldn’t help but grin. 

5 Days

For the most part, things remained civil between the two brothers, albeit tense. They had a show the next day, so Josh spent the majority of the day in solitude on vocal rest like he always did, meaning Jake couldn’t bother him too much. He had received a pretty gnarly glare from Jake across the table during breakfast, but that was to be expected. Being on stage with him wasn’t an issue: the adrenaline of playing in front of a crowd allowed them to forget their turmoil for a couple of hours. Josh even gave Jake a playful slap on the ass after his Broken Bells solo, which he returned with a full on body check. The audience loved it. 

It was good timing that Jita was in town for the show, since Jake got a hotel room for them both to enjoy. Josh was glad he didn’t have to worry about Jake slamming his feet into the bottom of his bunk for the second night in a row. So, after a restful night’s sleep, he woke up bright eyed and bushy tailed, eager to explore around Orlando on their day off. He had an elaborate plan for the day to try and find some gators out in the wild, but that was put on hold when he received an off putting text from Jake. 

Come to my hotel room. Now. 

Josh knew that it was about the argument Jake had tried to start the night prior, and that it had probably kept him up all night because he couldn’t handle Josh not accepting his apology. As much as Josh wanted to ignore his message, he was too curious not to comply. That’s why, twenty minutes later, Josh exited his Uber ride and made his way up to Jake’s hotel room. It was on the top floor (Jake liked to splurge as much as he could to feel more like a rockstar) and Josh was surprised to see that Jake had even gone out of his way to book an executive suite. Without thinking twice, Josh rapped on the mahogany door loudly. He could hear Jake coming on the other side of the door and then, within seconds, they were facing one another. 

“Come in,” Jake broke the silence, opening the door wider. Josh entered the hotel room slowly, keeping an eye out for any traps Jake might have set (again, he had done it before). “There’s no booby traps,” Jake sighed, taking a seat on the edge of his bed. 

“You said that last time and yet I still wound up with a tranquilizer dart in my neck,” Josh begged to differ. 

“I swear on our mom’s life,” Jake said. Josh knew he was telling the truth if he was swearing on their mom. He made his way deeper into the room and scanned around. 

“Where’s Jita?” 

“She went down to get some breakfast.”

“Oh. Is she doing okay?” 

“Yeah, she’s good.” 

They both studied the ground as the silence consumed them. Josh started to regret coming over; it was obvious that Jake wasn’t entirely sure what he wanted to happen. Josh was contemplating whether or not he should prompt Jake to say something when Jake finally cleared his throat. 

“Why didn’t you accept my apology?” he finally asked. 

“Because you tried to start a fight with me,” Josh replied, taking a seat on the nice leather loveseat in the corner of the room. 

“But I apologized,” Jake leaned closer to Josh, trying to search his eyes to see where he had gone wrong. “What more do you want?” 

Josh could only shrug. He knew that he would be better off telling Jake that he did forgive him since it was plain as day that it was eating the poor guy alive, but a part of him was still pissed that Jake had even thought to argue with him, entirely unprompted. He felt it was justified that he give Jake a few more days to drown in concern and confusion. 

“Come on,” Jake groaned, “you have to tell me.” 

“No I don’t,” Josh replied. He could see that Jake’s eyes were starting to turn red as his frustration simmered to the surface. 

“Josh.” His voice was rock hard. Josh closed his eyes and sealed his mouth shut, shaking his head back and forth like a toddler. What came next, he probably should have seen coming, but it still threw him off nonetheless. “You little shit,” Jake hissed. With his eyes still closed, Josh felt Jake’s body slam into his, knocking him onto the carpet so Josh’s bare knees slid across the carpet until he was sprawled on the floor. Jake laid on top of him, heaving breaths in and out, and Josh tried to shove him off. Jake started to shove back but Josh got a good elbow in, catching him in the jaw so he cried out in pain, giving Josh the exit to tear him off. He rolled away from Jake, who was now also laying on the floor clutching at his face, and pushed himself upright. To his surprise, he found that he was laughing. Jake took a pause from wiping at his face and leaned up to look at his brother in confusion. 

“I knew you were going to do that,” Josh explained in between his hearty laughs. There was still a trace of anger left in Jake’s face but, the longer Josh laughed, the more the lines in his brow lessened. 

“You made me do it,” he softly murmured as he brushed his hair out of his face with a small grin peeking from his pursed lips. Josh continued to laugh and, pretty soon, Jake was smiling alongside him. 

“Does this mean you forgive me?” he asked with hope glimmering in his eyes. 

Josh immediately stopped laughing. 

“No.” 

3 Days

After Josh shot him down, Jake was quick to hop to his feet and threatened to tackle Josh again. Josh had never left a room faster in his life, mostly because he didn’t want his knees to get anymore battered from the carpet than they already were. For the next two days, Josh knew that, for his safety, he needed to keep a safe distance between him and Jake. They had gotten into arguments over stupider things that had lasted longer, so it didn’t bother him, but he also knew that Jake’s buttons could only be pressed so much. 

As it always happened when they got into an argument, Sam and Danny went to their designated twin to try and get information out of them to see if they could reach a peace agreement. Danny was always assigned to Jake because he could usually rationalize with him while Sam gladly took Josh since it gave them the opportunity to gossip. 

Sam and Josh were sitting in the green room, waiting for their turn to do soundcheck when Sam looked up from his phone and raised an eyebrow at Josh. 

“You wanna explain what’s going on between you and Jake?” 

“Yes,” Josh quickly replied, making Sam break out into a smile. 

“Spill.” 

“I was minding my business and he came up out of nowhere and was all in my face for no reason. So, of course I’m gonna be pissed at him and not forgive him immediately, right?” 

“Why was he mad at you in the first place?”

“I didn’t do anything!” Josh wasn’t sure he liked how exasperated he sounded. Maybe the whole thing was starting to take a toll on him. “He was just being an ass.” 

Josh threw himself back in his seat and let out a loud groan to try and earn some pity points. Sam was usually more than willing to take Josh’s side in arguments, mostly because they both agreed that it was fun to see how crimson Jake’s face could get when he was angry. He looked back at his younger brother and realized that his face was scrunched in thought. 

“Well, you actually did do something,” Sam carefully sounded out his words. It took a lot of courage for him to stand up to Josh. Josh racked his brain to think of what he could have possibly done that Sam also knew about. 

“Oh,” Josh’s face fell. 

Earlier that week, while they were driving from Nashville down to Florida, Josh had downed one too many drinks and thought it would be funny to open the tour bus window and serenade those around them who were equally stuck in traffic by playing Jake’s harmonica. The booze gave him liquid courage which meant he thought he was playing on a level that would make Phil Wiggins drop to his knees in defeat. Everyone else on the bus would tell you that he sounded like he was having a squeaky asthma attack, but they let him have his fun. That is, until his fingers, slicked in sweat from overexerting himself, lost hold of the harmonica so it clamored out the window and was promptly run over by an 18-wheeler. Jake hadn’t attacked him after he did that (probably because he was at the front of the bus with a bottle of bud in his hand, somehow gazing at nothing and everything at once) so Josh assumed he was off the hook. Apparently he wasn't. 

“Yeah,” Sam looked at Josh. “Oh.” 

Josh started to uncomfortably squirm around in his seat. So he had done something wrong, and Jake had every right to confront him about it, even if he wasn’t upfront about what the matter was. Josh had to admit that made him feel a level of guilt that he didn’t like. But he also knew that he was in too deep and couldn’t tap out. 

“You’re not going to apologize to him, are you?” Sam decided after reading Josh’s twisted expression. Josh let out a short exhale and shook his head. 

“I can’t do it.” 

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

Outside the venue, Jake and Danny were hanging around near where the trucks were being unloaded. Danny watched as Jake made a pretty impressive show of kicking a rock around and then, when he had seen enough, reached down to grab the rock and chucked it off into the distance. 

“Hey!” Jake complained as he watched the rock soar out of view. 

“Have you and Josh made up yet?” Danny asked since he knew that he had Jake’s full attention. 

“No,” Jake frowned, kicking around at nothing since all the good rocks were gone. “I’m not even upset about the harmonica anymore, I just wish we could move on.” 

“You know, it wasn’t even really Josh’s fault that he dropped the harmonica,” Danny pointed out. Jake snapped his head back up to look at the drummer, arching an inquisitive eyebrow. “I don’t know if you remember, but Sam bumped into him while he was playing,” Danny continued. “That’s how the harmonica got knocked out of his hands.” 

“Leave it to clumsy Sam,” Jake mumbled. 

“He was trying to dance to Josh’s music,” Danny looked like he was reliving the scene in his head. “I think we should keep him off the tequila moving forward.” 

“That’s probably for the best,” Jake agreed. “Man, now I feel bad for being so harsh with Josh.” 

“I mean, he was touching your harmonica,” Danny pointed out. 

“I’ve let him play it before, it’s not like it’s off limits.” 

“It probably should be. He’s really bad at playing it.” 

“He’s no Papa Kiszka, that’s for sure.” 

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

Josh had left Sam in the greenroom to try and get some air to clear his head. The whole thing was so juvenile. He really missed spending time with his brother, writing music and playing impromptu games of punch buggy so their arms were constantly bruised. He was the one prolonging things, which meant that he was in the driver’s seat when it came to moving forward. As Josh opened the doors to the side of the arena and felt the sun greet him, he let out a huff. The problem was, admitting to Jake that he was wrong was like a form of torture that Jigsaw could only dream of. He knew that Jake would hold it over him for the rest of his life. 

Oh wow, that’s a really nice harmonica, it reminds me of the one you dropped out our tour bus window, Josh. 

This song would sound really good with a harmonica. Too bad I don’t have one anymore. 

Congrats to my brother for marrying the love of his life. If only my harmonica could have been here to witness this beautiful matrimony as well. 

Josh couldn’t bear the thought. He could buy Jake a thousand harmonicas and it would still never be enough. He hated himself for it, but Josh rationalized that the best thing he could do was ignore the situation outright. Maybe it would fade away. 

Yesterday

Jake and Josh both had to bite the bullet and get on their tour bus so they could head up to South Carolina for their next show. They didn’t say a word to each other and Josh could see that Sam and Danny were cautiously watching them from a distance, but not intervening. It was a pleasant surprise that Jake didn’t kick the shit out of the bottom of Josh’s bed or purposefully make groaning noises all night, so he woke up in a good mood. 

While he made a strong pot of coffee, he gazed out the window at the passing trees and ruminated on the dream that had woken him up. He and Jake were both filling in for Scully and Mulder in an X-files episode and they had been tasked with solving the mystery of a man named Harrison Ford (who wasn’t the Harrison Ford) who had an unfathomable amount of chicken in his stomach. Upon reflection, the dream made no sense, but he was comforted by it in the sense that he and Jake were working closely together and, most importantly, talking to each other. 

The coffee maker started to beep and he removed the pot to fill himself a tall mug, the potent smell immediately waking him up. He turned on his heel to move to the couch in the back of the bus but stopped when he saw Jake slowly crawl out from his bed and let out a deep yawn. For a second Josh considered diving out the window to avoid his brother, but ultimately decided to turn away, looking like he was preoccupied with something. He could hear Jake’s knees pop as he stood upright and shuffled to the bathroom and slowly turned away from the wall when it seemed like the coast was clear. With Jake out of the way, it seemed like he had a clear shot to the solitude of his bunk. 

He nearly made it, but bumped straight into Jake as he walked out of the bathroom. Both of them made the same grunting noise at the contact and hopped away from one another. They both started to say sorry, but then stopped themselves. Josh studied the ground for a second, but then looked back up at his brother and was surprised to see that he was smiling. Josh couldn’t help but smile back. 

“Where’s the fire?” Jake joked in his groggy morning voice. 

“Fire? Where?” Josh pretended to look around in a frenzy. At that, Danny’s head jerked out from his bunk, his eyes wide and scanning the bus.

“There’s a fire?” His voice was shrill. 

“No, go back to sleep,” Jake gave him an apologetic smile. Danny stared between the two brothers for an awkward length of silence and then swung his curtain back shut and threw himself back against his pillows. 

“Are you feeling good about Greenville?” Josh tried to make conversation. Jake seemed caught off guard by Josh’s question and gave a half-shrug. 

“It’s been fun to play live again, I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve for the rest of the show.” 

“That’s what I like to hear.” 

“How about you?” 

“I have to agree with you there, I’m feeling good.”

Their eyes met again and Jake made a small motion towards the back of the bus. 

“I was going to head back and watch some Kurosawa, wanna come?”  

“Kurosawa? Since when do you watch Kurosawa?” Josh was surprised. 

“Since I want to impress you and convince you to spend time with me,” Jake shrugged. Josh, for the life of him, couldn’t argue with that. Jake knew exactly how to get him to come back around. 

Today

Since they had a free day, the tour bus took a detour to Atlanta so the guys could check out the botanical garden and Olympic Park. Josh could tell that Sam and Danny were still being cautious around them, most likely because they had slept in so late the day before, they completely missed Jake and Josh sitting together on the back couch, enjoying Rashomon. Sure, they spent the rest of the day apart, but being close to his twin in that moment brought Josh a level of comfort that was hard to find anywhere else. 

That was why, as they stepped off the bus and started to walk towards the entrance to the gardens, Josh grabbed onto Jake’s shoulder. Jake whirled around to face him, his eyes just barely visible beneath his sunglasses, looking surprised. 

“What?” he asked. 

Josh noted that Sam and Danny were far enough ahead that they were out of earshot, and sucked in a deep breath. It was going to be hard to say, but he had to let it out. 

“Um,” he found himself stalling. 

“I’m sorry,” Jake said it before he could. 

“What?” Josh couldn’t believe his ears. “What are you sorry about?” 

“I don’t know, I’m just sorry,” Jake shrugged. 

“Well, I’m sorry too,” Josh finally felt the confidence he needed to get it out. “Your harmonica didn’t deserve to go out that way.” 

“Picking a fight with you wasn’t cool,” Jake spoke over Josh. “I should have done it to Sam, he was the one who bumped into you and caused you to drop the harmonica.” 

“Wait, Sam did that?” Josh stopped in his tracks. 

“Uh huh,” Jake said. “Danny was a narc and told me everything.” 

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Josh wiggled his eyebrows first at Jake, and then ahead at Sam. Jake followed his line of sight and was quickly nodding his head. 

“Oh yeah,” he said. 

“Let’s pick a fight with Sam,” they both decided at the same time. 

Sam was about to feel the wrath of the Tauruses.

[ashtonisvibing]

dancing with old friends

OKAY, third time's the charm with trying to post this! maybe tumblr's trying to tell me something-

ship: darkstache/damien x wilford (if not outright shown it's heavily implied. also obviously there's wilford x celine, but that's just canon so-)

notes: i originally wrote... a lot for this- i've now tried to post this twice before, so i'm not writing that all again. just be aware that this oneshot is a few years old and so it probably isn't good. i mean i think it's pretty alright, but maybe my taste is shit lol

don't expect me to write other oneshots after posting this, i haven't written stories since i wrote this, so they'd probably all be shit-

The Manor held several rooms that were unknown to many of the egos that lived there; each of them locked away for... reasons. They held old memories that did not want to be resurfaced. And no one questioned it. After all, the request of them never being opened came from both Wilford Warfstache & Darkiplier. Although it was more of an order than a request with Dark, who had pretty much threatened Yandere when he asked why.

There was one room in particular that was locked up. It was a gorgeous ballroom, one that looked like it had come out of a fairy tale. Many dances used to be held there back in the day with various friends. It was once filled with laughter & joy; now it only contained dust & cobwebs.

For whatever reason, Wilford had decided to open the room again. No one else was around to question why. He honestly didn't know himself. He had just been wandering around the manor when he came across the old oak doors. Both him & Dark held a skeleton key that could open any in the house, which The Host was gracious enough to make.

Wiford took his out from under his shirt; he had hung it on a piece of string so he would always have it with him. He took it off from around his neck, inserted it into the lock, & turned the key. A clicking sound echoed slightly down both ends of the hall. The interviewer glanced around to make sure no one else was around before entering the room.

It wasn't as grand as he remembered, but perhaps that was just because everything was covered in dust. There were windows across the opposite wall, which each had red silk curtains draped over them, blocking out any sunlight that could enter. Around the room were white marble columns connecting the ceiling to the floor. Off to the side was a piano, which clearly had not been used in forever.

Wilford walked across the floor, hearing his footsteps echo in the quiet room. Truly Mark, his old friend, had decided to splurge with this room, seeing as it was more castle like than the other rooms. And of course he always insisted his guests move to this room so they could dance at least once during the party.

The interviewer remembered many dances he shared with Celine. The lady could definitely dance, he knew that. Those were truly wonderful nights they shared together.

He hadn't noticed he was starting to cry until he felt a teardrop fall down his cheek. He quickly wiped the tears away & shook the memories from his head. No need for troubling himself with the past like that. Those were happy times. That's all they were. Happy times...

"So, you've finally decided to enter here." Wilford turned around to see the body behind the voice. Dark was standing a few feet away. How he got in so quietly wasn't that big of a concern; Dark always had a flair for mystery.

"Just wanted to relive some old memories, I guess." Wilford chuckled. The demon across from him hummed in response, conveying no emotion. While yes Dark had the memories of both Celine & Damien in him, he never bothered with being so sentimental about them, his focus always landing on taking control of the YouTube channel he was practically adored on.

"If I recall correctly, you & Celine shared many dances in this room." Dark walked closer to the other man.

Wilford nodded his head in response. "Yes, we did. I remember how much fun we had, being the most lively dancers in the whole room. Everyone would clear the floor just to watch us." He chuckled & gave a sad smile. These were memories he had not touched in a long time, & while it was nice to revisit them, it brought a pain in his heart to think of his lost love. And yet he knew, in some crazy & messed up way, she was right next to him, along with his best friend Damien, all wrapped together with some strange... entity in one of his old friend's body.

They were both silent for a bit, just basking in the feeling of being in a room they had both sworn they would never open. And neither man knew why they were even in there.

After some time Wilford saw Dark offer his hand from the corner of his eye. He gave the demon a confused look, questioning what he was suggesting. Dark merely scoffed but kept his hand where it was.

"Dance with me."

The interviewer was a bit taken back by what Dark had asked. He was always extremely reserved, keeping to himself with his emotions in every way possible. He never talked with anyone else, unless it was about something that person was doing. Even Wilford, whom he considered a close colleague, barely knew anything about what went on inside that mind of his. And yet here he was, asking Wilford to dance.

Of course he didn't refuse. Once he fully processed the situation, which took mere seconds to be processed, he took Dark's hand & let himself be led to the middle of the dance floor. This was going to be strange for him; he was always the one to lead the dance, but the demon automatically assumed the lead position & placed a hand on the other man's waist, Wilford placing his free hand on Dark's shoulder. A smirk flashed onto Dark's face, but the interviewer did not know why. That is, until he noticed his cheeks felt a bit hotter than usual, indicating he was blushing. He tried to push it away, but to no avail.

"I do believe that to dance you need music along with it." Wilford suggested a bit quietly. If he had to admit it he did feel a bit nervous about doing this. He didn't know if he would trip up, or if Dark would trip up, or if something happened that would cause this to become a wreck.

"Don't worry, I'll be sure to guide you completely, since it seems you can't dance without the aid of something else." Dark chuckled, causing Wilford to merely roll his eyes at the joke.

"Don't worry, I'll be sure to guide you completely, since it seems you can't dance without the aid of something else." Dark chuckled, causing Wilford to merely roll his eyes at the joke.

"Then let us dance, my friend." With that Dark started to slowly spin with Wilford, stepping in time to invisible music. It was definitely strange, being lead around the room instead of himself leading, & the demon was a bit slower than he was used to, but the interviewer eventually got the rhythm of the dance & stepped in perfect time. After a few moments Wilford started to notice the blue shadow behind Dark glow brighter, almost drowning out the red shadow. Wilford smiled at this, something Dark didn't see with his eyes closed.

'Hello, old friend.' Wilford thought to himself. Dark smiled, a genuine smile, & opened his eyes, which were now a dark brown instead of their usual black & red.

"Hello, William. It's been a while, hasn't it?" William let out a soft chuckle.

"Yes it has. Far too long in my opinion, old friend." Damien gave a small smile, one that held both joy at seeing his friend, & sadness at how they departed, & their current situation. One was trapped in an old friend's body with a demon & a vengeful spirit, the other had slowly but surely lost his mind. This was not how the two men thought they would end up.

The both of them continued to spin in a small circle, William's head resting against Damien's chest. Neither cared if this seemed strange. Or, perhaps, even scandalous. They just needed to feel the comforting warmth of a friend. And it seemed a dance had been needed as well.

[aquato-family-circus]

I miss Harvey so uh

*sits down in your inbox* tell me about Compton's family other than Dogen and Sam? I want to know your headcanons. Any of them.

context for harvey

eeeeyyyyy its been a while since i talked abt him or the boole family let's go

Like I said in the P7 family post I was typing up, Compton's parents were the wealthiest of all the 7's parents. I don't know if they run/own a fancy resturaunt brand or something to do with animals or what but they're like fanciful edwardian non-psychics who care a lot about their Image and how other people See Them. this certainly had no adverse affects on their child whatsoever

I mused a bit about Compton having a sibling or two, but still not sure about exactly how that manifests in the broader scope of things. it just ""sounds right"" whatever that really means

Harvey, my friend Harvey, met Compton in their young adult years because Harvey's family runs some kind of rustic ranch that the Booles held a fancy little charity event at and Compton was like "wow... you like horses....... this must be Romantic Love"

whether it actually was Romantic or just Compton and Harvey being very close i don't know. i like aroace compton and also gay compton. both can hold hands bc orientation is silly like that

the important part is they liked each other enough to get married. or like domestic partners at least. they move in. oh my god they were roommates.

their daughter, dont worry about how they had a kid, i never have a name for her. I'll call her Suzy just to have a name.

but i think Suzy's not psychic and takes after harvey a little more than compton, which was ok for a long while. compton actually raised her with harvey at least up into her teens, because I think she was 16-19 years old when the Incident Happened.

i think this bc i feel like Suzy and Truman have to be around the same age? it makes sense in my head for that to be the case at least. Don't worry about it.

Sam's prison/mom line in the diner gives me a couple options. either Suzy went to prison, works at a prison, or Sam's just being a little sillay.

I tend to gravitate toward "works at a prison" or "sam is being sillay". I saw a headcanon once that the noodle bowl chef lady is Sam & Dogen's mom, which is cute, I think about it sometimes, but i also dont rly think she feels like their mom. to me at least. but it was interesting to bring up.

what headcanons I actually have abt Suzy amount to thinking she's... well meaning but maybe the worst parent out of the Truman/Augustus&Donatella "second gen" of psychonauts folks.

to say the subtext as text, Dogen being cut to when Raz says "your mother is afriad of you", it always gives me autism mommy vibes. like Suzy goes oh my poor little dogen and sam are so Strange, just like my Father. I don't want them to become Criminals, Also Just Like My Father. and she maybe makes some poor decisions because of it. Not as awful as say Loboto's parents. but not great.

Their Dad I think is the most guy ever. just a real nobody kinda dude. he carries a briefcase. works a nine to five. loves to talk about the Big Game. has kind of a minnasota accent when I try to imagine him talking. car grill mustache.

Compton has a weird, awkward relationship with Suzy & her husband bc of all this. He had kind of lost contact with her and Harvey after moving to GNG, and didn't hear from them again until well after the Psychonauts became a government agency because that's when he learned 1) he's a grandparent and 2) little baby Sam is burning the curtains oh god what do i do . I imagine Suzy made a panicked call to the Psychonauts one day and it got redirected to Compton once the family name came up and it was the most awkward phone call in the history of man kind.

Compton does love his grandkids though. And he's tried a lot of times to let his own kid and his ex-husband that they are welcome at the Psychonauts. he might not be available but yknow the other agents here are more capable anyways have you met Truman he's also a dad.

I think that's all I got for now cheif, though if you have more specific questions abt Boole or the other families I'm sure my brain will mix something together once prompted ✌️ it's always fun to answer these kinds of questions

[a-trench-coat-of-confused-worms]

Chapter 2  

The woman of night

She stared up at the white ceiling while the sun gently cascaded through the sheer floral curtain, bathing her motionless body in a beautiful light, almost ethereal the irony of which would not be lost on her if she could she herself, the idea that the light shining through could give a look of divine peace in this cage of hers, as beautiful as the lighting, the paintings even the music they play on the intercom to keep the more “unruly” patients subdued it was still her purgatory nonetheless, her battle to fight even if she doesn't have the energy or the confidence to do so it must be done for she is a mere pawn in this game that has been set before her whether she can see the board or not is of no consequence to the game masters. 

The door creaked open the door still in impossible pain from a lack of love and care her eyes floated towards the door, she has learned it is better to be compliant to whatever twisted wish may come from these ghouls, but this woman is new, at least she thinks she’s new she’s never been great with faces and it’s even worse with whatever they pump into her blood to keep her bed ridden. This one seems frantic. Her hair seems like it was once in a neat little bun and is now half way out of its original place. Her eyes darted from corner to corner till they landed on her, her eyes widened, the nurse stepped closer, her hand gently reached out and touched her arm “is it really you? You are Evera right?” Evera looked at her clearly confused and her mouth slowly opened a bit “yes?” the strange woman's eyes lit up like a child witnessing snow for the first time, the strange woman glided her hand over her arm and into Evera’s hand and grabbed it gently Evera had just noticed it seemed this woman was….crying? “How strange” Evera thought to herself it wasn’t like this woman knew her…right? Everyone that knew Evera had long passed away, leaving her alone in this world thrusting her into the arms of the monsters that lurk under every bed,round every corner, deep in every closet lurking waiting for someone like her. She knows because this place is full of them.

The lady had untied Evera letting her sit up for the first time in only the universe knows how long since the last time she has been able to move freely, she’s obviously been able to get up but she was always tied to some point to stop her from running away (Evera isn’t the only one capable of learning) “how and why do you act like you know me?” she asked the lady who was now lounging about in an armchair across the room, she had since removed her face mask revealing the lower half of her face the unknown lady had deep toned skin it reminded Evera of the night sky of her dream she had little white freckles that sat softly on her round face like stars and her eyes were round like a full moon, she just kept staring at Evera her eyes almost never lingered on anything else long until they returned “that’s not really important” she uttered with a sigh “what’s important is getting you out of her ms. Moore, they need you.”

Evera was about to respond asking who “they” are when she awoke again staring straight up at the white ceiling, she tried to sit up but she felt something hugging her ribs trying to hold her down, she was still tied down so she resigned to laying back down onto the bed and simply laid there for awhile till her eyes grew heavy once again and went back to sleep.

Evera has since then thought about the experience with the woman who held the night. That's how it went day in and day out the woman would meet Evera in her dreams and sometimes reveal things or merely talk to her or sometimes she would simply stare at the sky light sky with almost a look of longing in her eye, since the first visit she has revealed her name to be Esmeray, meaning dark moon, it fit her Evera thought to herself. Often Evera would ask questions of what Esmeray could possibly want from the husk that she is now but Esmeray would merely look at Evera with a look that could be construed as a look of pity, almost remorse, eventually Evera stopped asking questions and just enjoyed the company it has been years since Evera has had a visitor dream or not before Esmeray came along. Evera enjoyed it she did, but her visits merely eased the pain of her reality and every time her eyes opened to the sterile walls to the eerie classic music to the same soulless paintings to the cold crisp hospital air she wanted to cry but she knew it wouldn't do anything but anger the nurses so she held it in. yet again after Esmeray’s visit Evera opened her eyes to the cold soulless room, it was a stark contrast to how she felt in the room when Esmeray was visiting Esmeray made Evera feel at home, like the scent of chocolate chip cookies on a cold winter day like the feeling of the teacher rolling out the t.v. on a rainy day to watch a cheesy but good cartoon like the calming sound of rain as you slowly slip into a dreamless slumber like the feeling of a hug from a long distance friend Evera hasn’t known her long but it was hard to stop herself from trusting Esmeray she was just so calm and patient and she was the first person to listen to her without a look of judgment in her eyes instead her eyes were full of wonder of anticipation of…excitement like she wanted to know more about her about her stories and what she has seen and what is to be seen, Evera would be lying to herself if she said it didn't scare her but fear could be good, it was healthy to be afraid kept Evera on her toes, she preferred to being afraid than….beige. Evera preferred having a distinct emotion, something she could name something with a face but this hollow empty feeling she’s had since coming to this cage with the other song birds has left her without song without a voice without emotion with a face. It left her without her soul.

@waitingforthesunrise