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roosterforme · 1 month ago

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Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 25 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Career Day arrives, and you definitely have the coolest collection of adults visiting your classroom. Bradley orchestrates a surprise, hoping you don't realize it's just a cover for something even bigger.

Warnings: fluff, adult language, 18+

Length: 4200 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

You were up before your alarm, too excited to stay in bed for a minute longer. When you tried to roll away from Bradley, his knee dug into your butt, and you groaned.

"Morning, Gorgeous," he grunted, arm wrapping around you like a boa constrictor until you were snug up against him again.

"Bradley," you whined, trying to squirm away. "I'm sore from being spanked."

You could hear his soft rumble of laughter as he released you, and you dragged yourself out of the other side of the bed. You weren't sure how you were going to make it through the day like this. You didn't even know if you'd be able to sit down. Still, you couldn't stop the smile that bloomed across your face, and soon Bradley was wearing one to match.

"Maybe we should have saved that for tonight," you whispered, gingerly rubbing your butt as you pulled your most capable looking dress from the closet you now shared with Bradley.

"We can revisit that activity tonight if you'd like." Just when you were about to argue there was no way that was going to happen again just yet, he let his hand slip down to the right side of your butt which went untouched last night. He gave you a little squeeze and whispered, "I'll get breakfast ready. I want you one hundred percent ready to go for Career Day, Baby."

The way he strutted around the house naked was highly distracting, but you had so much to do. You wanted to make sure your hair and makeup were perfect, and you wanted to get to your classroom early. So you got started, and at some point when you were in the bathroom, Bradley must have put his flight suit on. He was wearing it when he knocked on the door, and you told him to come in while you rooted around under the sink, trying to find the lotion you wanted to use.

"What are you doing?" he asked, panic lacing his voice as you glanced up at him.

"Looking for my lotion. The stuff in the blue bottle." You turned back to your task, and a second later, Bradley was in front of you, snatching up the exact thing you were looking for.

"This it?" he asked anxiously, nudging the cabinet closed with his knee as he handed it to you.

"Thanks," you muttered, wondering why he was acting strange as you smoothed the lotion all over your hands and arms.

"Let's eat breakfast before you're late for your big day."

You wanted to argue that it was his big day, too. He could do anything for his presentation, and your kids would eat it up. But for you, Career Day was always a chance for the fourth grade teachers to show off who they were able to get in their classroom. Who had the coolest adults. It was ridiculous, but you were still excited about it.

Bradley's idea of breakfast was an enormous bowl of cereal, toast, muffins and a banana. "I don't have time to finish all of this!"

"I'll eat whatever you don't eat," he promised. And he did. You watched him inhale the rest of the food as you double checked that you had everything in your bag, and then the two of you went out to his Bronco with travel mugs of coffee.

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

Bradley was nervous about today. He couldn't pinpoint one reason why, because there were several. First of all, he'd spent so much time in your classroom already, maybe it wasn't the best idea to have him scheduled for last out of all the Career Day participants. The kids were bound to find him stale at some point, and Marty had just scratched the surface of his many talents. He didn't want it to be his fault if things ended on a low note for you today.

Second, he was already hoping and praying that Natasha was going to be able to distract you the way that he wanted. He needed a little bit of help from your students to make this extra special.

And third, just because he thought his mom's retro ring from the early 1980s was cool didn't mean you would. But that was really the least of his concerns. He wanted you to have it if you agreed to marry him, but he'd buy you something else if you so desired.

"You're so quiet," you mused softly, and Bradley almost forgot he was holding your hand while he drove. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," he said before clearing his throat. "Just going over what I want to talk to your kids about."

"What are you going to talk about today?"

He smiled and tilted the sun visor a little bit more. "Remember that video I posted on YouTube before I left in December? When I said there would be a quiz? I'm going to quiz them on everything they've learned with me. Stuff from the video and their field trip. Things I talked about in my letters. I'm going to try to stump them."

"I don't think you'll be able to," you said, lacing your fingers with his. "They hang on your every word. Just like I do."

Oh, he wanted you to have an engagement ring on that hand in the worst way. His life had changed so much since your first letter, but he knew pretty early on that he had feelings for you. And he knew as soon as the first date that he would end up here, completely in love with you.

When he pulled into your school parking lot, Bradley drove past all of the empty spots to drop you off at the front doors. "Aren't you coming with me?" you asked him, but he shook his head.

"I don't want to be a distraction for your morning routine. I'll wait out here for Nat and Marty and come inside with everyone else at nine."

"Okay," you replied, but you were looking straight ahead now. "I'm a little nervous."

"Why?" He shifted into park and reached for you.

You sighed against him. "It's ridiculous, but I want my guests to be the coolest ones. The other fourth grade teachers all rolled their eyes at me for even writing to an aviator in the first place."

"Joke's on them. You can't even get rid of me now," Bradley murmured, making you laugh. "You've got Nat and Marty. And one of your kids' parents owns a pizza shop. You're golden, Baby. Coolest fourth grade teacher ever."

You kind of rolled your eyes at him, but you smiled and kissed him before you climbed out. "I'll see you inside."

Bradley had a while to wait for Nat and Marty to arrive, and he considered running to Starbucks for his newest addiction. Instead he grabbed the bag that was tucked underneath his seat and started to sort through all the notes inside. It was a sizable collection now. All of the letters you and your students wrote to him made a stack a few inches thick. Some of the pages were creased and worn, but they would work perfectly for what he had planned.

When Nat tapped on his window, he jolted, sending pages flying.

"Why are you so jumpy?" she asked, opening his door.

"Jesus, Nat. I already told you I was anxious about this!"

She huffed out a breath. "And I already told you that you could put in literally no effort at all, and she would say yes. You could hand her a ring and grunt, 'Marriage?' and she would start planning a wedding."

Bradley laughed as he organized the pages again. "I want it to be special. Butterflies and all that shit. She makes me feel incredible."

His best friend leaned against the door, crossing her arms over her flight suit, and asked, "You still want Marty and I to help with your distraction scheme?"

"I need you to."

"You got it."

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

Your students were on their best behavior. The guests were all excited to be there. Bradley kept smiling at you. Your rear end was still sore, but it turns out there was no reason to be nervous at all. Even the music teacher and school librarian decided to hang out in your classroom for part of the day, because your kids talked it up so much.

Nia's mom, a pediatrician, gave a presentation about keeping your body healthy. Oliver's dad talked about designing skyscrapers and then let the kids build with Lego blocks. Now you were listening to Natasha talk about the challenges of landing a fighter jet on an aircraft carrier, and even the parents were enthralled.

"What do you think would happen if I flew in too low?" she asked, pointing at Jackie who had her hand up.

"You could like miss the deck?"

"Absolutely," Nat replied. "And what if I came in from too high?"

Jayden's hand shot up this time. "You could crash!"

"I could indeed," Nat answered seriously. Five more hands shot up in the air as she talked about velocity, and Marty, who was standing next to you at the back of the room, leaned in closer to you.

"Why are you making me go after Lieutenant Trace?" he whispered as she engaged with the kids.

You smiled at the older man in his khaki shirt and dark pants. "You can hold your own, Marty. Trust me." You knew for a fact he arrived with two tool boxes and some engine parts you couldn't even identify. You were already excited for what that meant. He would be just fine.

Suddenly the room erupted in applause as Natasha finished up, and you made your way up to the front of the classroom. "Thank you so much, Lieutenant Trace. Next we will hear from our favorite mechanic whom we met on our field trip to North Island. Marty needs a few minutes to set up, so in the meantime, Nia's mom is going to share some healthy snacks that we can enjoy."

You were going to go stand with Bradley while your classroom dissolved into the soft hum of conversation, but Nat cornered you first. "I just got a text from Maverick about something so exciting, but I need to run it past you first. Can we talk in the hallway?"

"Uh, sure."

You looked around the room before deciding on asking Ms. Masters the librarian to help you out. "Would you mind monitoring things for a couple minutes?"

"I'll take care of it," she promised with a nod, and you knew everyone was in good hands as you slipped out into the hallway with your boyfriend's best friend.

"How would you feel about a flyover today?"

You stared at Natasha, blinking silently at her words. "A flyover?"

"Yeah," she replied casually.

"Like over the school?"

"Mmhmm," she hummed, buffing her nails on her flight suit.

"Are you serious right now?"

"Yes."

You felt like she was being kind of purposely slow to give details as your mind swirled. "You're talking actual Naval aircrafts?"

"Of course," she said with a grin. "I mean, once again, it would be Hangman and Coyote flying them, but even those two can handle holding a simple formation."

Now you were really excited. "How is this actually happening?" you whispered.

"Bradley and I asked Mav about it the other day," she said with a shrug. "Any chance we can walk out to the parking lot and make sure there's enough room for everyone to stand safely?"

When you tried to peek through the rectangular window in your classroom door, Natasha slid her body in front of it. When you tried to look over her head, she seemed to grow several inches as she went up on her tiptoes.

"Yeah... we can go look at the parking lot."

You were wearing your key card on your lanyard, and Ms. Masters could probably keep your class under control for an entire day if you needed her to.

"Well then, let's go."

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

As soon as you walked out of the room with Nat, Bradley jumped to action. It wasn't his intention to steamroll Nia's mom or her packs of apple slices, but he had something important he needed the kids to help him with. Marty was setting up some sort of demonstration with tool boxes on the desks in the front row, but Bradley grabbed the stack of papers he brought with him and cleared his throat.

"Do all of you think you can help your pen pal out with something for a few minutes?" Eyes went wide, backs went straight, and Oliver even saluted him as he started handing out the papers. "I brought all of the letters you kiddos sent me last year when I was deployed. There are a lot of them, and I'm going to use them for something special. A surprise for your teacher."

"What kind of surprise?" Henry asked, crunching through a piece of apple.

"I can't tell you that," Bradley replied with a wink. "It's classified."

"Are you really going to marry our teacher someday?" Violet asked as he handed her three of the handwritten notes.

Bradley froze, unsure how to answer. "If she wants to marry me, then I definitely want to marry her."

"She wants to marry you," Violet said easily. "What are we doing with all of these letters?"

"Paper airplanes," Bradley announced, holding up the last sheet of paper. Even the parents and Marty seemed amused now. "We are folding them up into the best looking paper airplanes we can make within the next six minutes or so. Watch how I fold this one, and then work on as many as you can, okay?"

He folded it up using the top of your desk when he needed to smooth the creases, and then he held it up for everyone to see. "Start folding!"

There was a flurry of activity as he walked around helping, and even the librarian and music teacher were getting involved. Bradley whipped through a few himself before walking around the room with an open trash bag.

"When you're done, drop them in here."

"But what are they for?" Oliver asked, dropping three airplanes into the bag. "Are you going to have airplane races with our teacher?"

"Not exactly. All of you are really doing me a favor here though. I promise."

"Do you love our teacher?" Jayden asked. Bradley thought maybe he should have felt silly admitting it in front of all of the adults, but he did it anyway.

"I absolutely do. I'm going to use the paper planes for a little project to show her just how much, okay?" He got several nods in response as he checked the time. You and Nat left seven minutes ago, and he knew he couldn't hope for much more than that. "Time's up! toss everything into the bag. And you can't tell her about any of this!"

You were smiling when you walked back in with Nat. He thought that things must have gone well for everyone as he tied up the bag. Marty was ready to give his presentation, and the kids all scuttled back to their seats.

Now he had everything he needed to make this the best weekend of his life.

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

Marty looked a little nervous as he started out by greeting everyone and telling them a bit about himself. He told your class that he had a lot of fun the last time he saw everyone on the naval base. You already knew about his decades-long Naval career, and your students already thought he was extremely cool, but he was about to get even cooler.

"I brought three identical intake manifold pieces from jets exactly like the ones that Lieutenant Bradshaw and Lieutenant Trace fly. Does anyone know how they work?"

Several of your students raised their hands, and you watched as Marty walked around the room with the engine parts and let them answer his questions to the best of their ability before he took over.

"This is fascinating." You turned to your right where Ms. Masters was watching Marty, completely absorbed. "I can't believe you got military clearance to take your class to visit North Island," she whispered.

You were about to tell her that it was really all thanks to Lieutenant Bradshaw when you realized she was perhaps looking at Marty even more than she was paying attention to the engine parts in his rough hands. You cleared your throat softly and said, "You know, meeting Marty was probably the highlight of that whole day. And that includes touring the air traffic control tower."

"Really?" she murmured.

"Mmhmm. He put on a brilliant workshop for us. And he's just the sweetest man. Really takes the time to connect with the kids."

If you knew one thing about Ruby Masters, you knew she loved it when kids got excited about learning something new. And if you knew one thing about women in general, most of them loved a man in uniform. Right now, Marty was absolutely rocking his ensign khakis and his pins, and Ms. Masters stood up a little straighter when he turned your way with a smile on his face.

"Okay, time for some fun," Marty said as he headed back to the front of the classroom. "One manifold has been put together correctly." He held it up in the air once again. "Two are in pieces on these desks. I'm going to take this one apart and put it back together while you watch. Pay close attention, because after that, we're going to have a race."

Your kids looked absolutely delighted, and you had to ask Oliver not to sit on his desk while he watched the demonstration. Even all of the adults in the room were watching intently as Marty worked with a wrench from one of the toolboxes until he finished reassembling everything.

"Pretty simple, right?" he asked. Your kids all nodded and answered yes. "Who thinks they can race me?" You gasped in delight when a few of your students raised their hands. "What if I made it a little easier? What if I was blindfolded?"

"No way," you whispered, meeting Bradley's eyes across the room where he was holding a garbage bag for some reason. "Is he serious?" you whispered.

"He's so serious," Bradley confirmed, and sure enough, Marty pulled a handkerchief from his pocket.

"I'll let your teacher pick my opponent," Marty said as he tied the square of fabric so it was covering his eyes.

You needed to pick a child who would be a gracious winner or loser, but you were almost convinced Marty was going to be able to beat any of them. "How about... Jayden."

You set him up next to Marty, making sure he had all of the tools he needed lined up. Then you gave them a countdown and stepped away again. The room erupted in cheers as Jayden puzzled his way through the task. Marty seemed to be moving smoothly, using muscle memory to do something he'd done hundreds of times before.

"Oh," Ms. Masters said. "It seems like Marty is... really good with his hands."

Your lips parted in surprise. "I'm sure he must be," you replied, trying not to squeal as she smiled and covered her face in embarrassment.

It turns out Jayden didn't stand a chance. "Marty wins!" boomed Bradley's voice, and you watched as the older man peeked out from his blindfold with a hesitant little smile on his face.

You were still applauding his effort as you thanked him for joining your classroom today. You were almost overwhelmed by how wonderfully the day seemed to be going. Bradley was your last guest, and then there was the flyover that Nat promised.

"Our last guest really doesn't need an introduction," you said with a laugh.

"Is it Lieutenant Bradshaw?" Oliver asked, ready to climb on top of his desk again as your boyfriend strolled up to stand next to you.

"Yes, of course it's Lieutenant Bradshaw." You smiled at him and said, "Take it away, Lieutenant."

There was a little smirk on his lips as he turned away from you to address your kids. "I know you all learned a lot about aviation this year, but right now, we're going to see just how much. I hope you all remembered that I said I was going to give you a quiz."

"Not a quiz!" complained Jackie, but Bradley held up his hands in mock surrender.

"If you pass, I can promise with one hundred percent certainty that you'll love the prize."

"There's a prize?" Violet asked, perking up.

"A secret prize," Bradley confirmed.

"Alright," Oliver said, still a little skeptical. "Let's do it."

Bradley started calling out questions, letting your students deliberate as a group to come up with an answer, and you leaned against the back wall near where Marty was packing up his toolboxes.

"That was absolutely fascinating," you heard Ms. Masters tell him softly. "I'm Ruby Masters, the Mira Mesa Elementary librarian."

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Marty with pink cheeks, wiping his palm on his shirt before shaking her hand. "It's nice to meet you," he whispered while Bradley continued to try to stump your kids. "This is the first time I've ever been to a career day."

"Well, you're a natural with the kids," she replied, still holding his hand. "And obviously very smart. I'm kind of new to the topic of aviation, but always interested in learning more."

"Oh. There's an endless amount to learn," he muttered, staring at Ruby like he couldn't look away.

"If you're ever free and feel like it, maybe you could show me how you rebuilt that manifold so quickly?"

Bradley had your kids taking turns writing at the board now, but you couldn't stop eavesdropping as you witnessed Marty go silent. The crash and burn was painful as he just stood there while Ruby finally extracted her hand. You were silently begging Marty to say something. Anything. But the seconds passed, and Ruby took a step away from him toward the door.

"Okay, no worries. It was nice to meet you." She gave you a forced smile as she slipped out into the hallway, and you rounded on Marty who was standing there like someone just stole his favorite toy at recess.

"I don't mean to overstep, so please feel free to tell me to mind my own business," you whispered.

"Uh. Okay?"

"Marty... Ms. Masters is hot and single, and she was flirting with you. She wanted you to ask for her phone number."

His eyes went wide as he gaped at you. "She did? Are you sure?"

You cradled your forehead and groaned softly. "I'm positive. She can't have gone far. The library is out and to the left, and then another left."

He nodded before dashing out of the room, leaving you alone just as Bradley said, "Are you sure you're all still in fourth grade? Or is this a grad school level physics class? You win. I can't even stump you. Come see me or Lieutenant Trace to get ear plugs for the Super Hornet flyover."

Your classroom was probably louder than the jet engine would be.

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

The whole school was buzzing with excitement as everyone emptied out onto the lawn and the parking lot. Something must have happened earlier, because Marty and the school librarian were standing awfully close together in all the chaos. As far as Bradley could recall, he'd never seen that man smile so much before.

"Ear plugs in! And then hands over your ears!" Natasha shouted, giving a safety demonstration. "Do it just how I do it!"

It was almost time. Bradley tried to keep the hand holding and cheek kisses to a minimum, but it was so hard when you were standing right next to him. You looked tired but happy as you put your orange, industrial ear plugs in place. With a dreamy look on your face, you leaned up and kissed him right on the lips, and that familiar roar of an F/A-18 engine approached.

Bradley put his own earplugs in before the sound of the jet wash hit. You and everyone else stared up at the sky where his colleagues were flying overhead, but he kept his eyes on you. He was in love. He had Carole's ring and the paper planes. He had all of these words that he wanted to say to you, but mostly he wanted to promise that he'd feel the same way about you forever. And he wanted to hear you say the same thing.

As soon as you had your ear plugs out again, you threw your arms around his neck with a huge smile. "Thank you, Bradley."

"For what? I barely did anything."

You laughed and shook your head. "You did everything."

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I love Career Day. Marty is the man. The oblivious man, but the man nonetheless. And our boy Bradley is ready to go! Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 26

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thekadhai · 2 years ago

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i-cant-sing · 1 month ago

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TT AU PART 13

Part 1 is here. Part 2 is here. Part 3 is here. Part 4 is here. Part 5 is here. Part 6 is here. Part 7 is here. Part 8 is here. Part 9 is here. Part 10 is here. Part 11 is here. Part 12 is here. Time Traveller au masterlist is here. Check out my MASTERLIST for more!

"I cant do this."

He rolls his eyes. "Not with that attitude." He runs a hand through his hair before nodding at you to follow him. You both enter the dance studio that his grandfather built for his wife inside the house because he loved her and well, he had the money.

"Silas, no one can learn ballet in a month." You state again and he lets out an exhale while Cadbury is bringing in about a dozen of ballet flats. "Even if your grandmother were to try and teach me, I still wont be good enough to perform in front of the queen-"

"Your voice is shrill and piercing and thoroughly unpleasant."

You blink at him before scowling. "A simple "shut up" would suffice, you know."

Silas glances at you. "What is this really about? Are you pretending to have low self esteem so I could offer you sympathy?"

"Excuse me?" Your tone sharpened. "Not that I like to remind anyone of the favours I do, but maybe you have forgotten that I literally saved your social image and status from being tarnished yesterday? Or did you forget about our Nikkah?"

Silas suddenly leaned down, bringing his face close to yours. You backed away, and he tilted his head slightly. "And I'm eternally grateful for that, missus, but the Nikkah saved your image too. Must I remind you that I converted to Islam too?"

"Because it benefitted you, not me." You spat out, only to inhale sharply as he gripped your chin firmly.

"As is the stipend I've been paying you, yet you fail to write a single article on the murders."

He pouted, feigning hurt. "Besides, are you saying I am not a real Muslim? That I have malicious intentions? Doesnt that go against your teachings- what is it? Not to judge someone?"

"I dont need to judge when its all so apparent-"

"Ah, good to see the love birds again!" Sarah's voice made you two pull away from each other. She clasped her hands as she made her way towards you two.

"Nana." Silas greeted her and kissed her cheeks. "Thank God you're here. My sweetheart is so concerned over this performance, even though I've assured her many times that she will be learning from the best. There's just no way she would mess this up!"

Sarah laughed heartily. "Stop buttering me up! And she is right to be concerned. Anyone would be nervous to perform in front of an audience, especially the queen!"

Silas wrapped one arm each around your and Sarah's shoulders, pulling you two close to him. "I only see a queen and a princess here. There's no need to be nervous. Just have fun!"

Just have fun? What kind of bullshit motivation is that-

Sarah smiled and nodded. "He's right, Y/n. As long as you're having fun, you're going to be just fine darling!"

Colin never thought he'd have to resort to day drinking.

And yet here he is, adding whatever he could grab his hands on and fill the flask with and mixing it in his coffee.

I need this. He reasoned with himself. Its not that much, just small doses to keep me sane when Y/n comes.

And then you do, in your Sherlock Holmes disguise, cheerfully greeting him before going to Will's office to work on the murder story.

He takes another sip of his coffee as he tries to process... well, everything.

Why was I attracted to you? Why am I still attracted to you even though I acted as a witness to your wedding with that rich bastard-

Another sip. He scowled before adding some more liquour, then he sipped it. Better.

Whats the best way to get over a crush? Crush? Is that what you were? An infatuation, a passing by fancy? So, how do I get over-

Wait. He set his mug down. You know that he and the boys all know that your marriage to Silas is a sham. You never really hid the fact but now they had all witnessed that it was just a rushed, possibly contractual marriage that Silas wants to save his ass.

So the marriage is bound to end. He doesnt have to get over you. No, not really. If anything, I should be spending more time with you. Yes. Yes! This way, when you and Silas end things, Colin will be right there to comfort you and support you! He needs to be the first man there after you dump Silas, lest anyone else gets ideas and wants to marry you as well.

Colin got up and managed to make his way to his boss's office without bumping into anyone. He's going to ask to work on the murder story and then you two will spend time-

"No. Keep working on the asylum story. We have enough people on the murder case." His boss dismissed him.

Colin slumped in his desk as he looked at the coffee mug. Eh, what the hell? He took another sip and another solution popped in his head.

If he cant help you with the murder story, then perhaps you can help him with the asylum story!

Silas handed you the invite.

"How did you get it so fast?" You asked, examining the small paper with elegant writing. It was the invite to the Gentleman's club, the one Henry owns. You'd asked Silas to get you an invite to what was an exclusive, members only club (when you tried entering the club, the men at the front laughed you out.)

Silas looked at you unamused, with his arms crossed over his chest. "Must I remind you who I am?"

A pompous ass?

"Of course not, my duke." You said mockingly, before raising a brow at him. "I suppose it would make sense for you to get easy access to shady places like this. You might be their popular customer."

"Oh darling, I'm popular everywhere." Silas shot back before dismissing you with his hand. "You can go now."

"What? You arent going to ask me why I'm going there?" You asked him. "Maybe you dont care that I am going there, but arent you worried about Mrs Fitzgerald or Duchess Y/n being in a place like that?"

Silas shrugged nonchalantly. "No." He leaned back in his chair. "I trust you not to screw up or entangle yourself in scandals. But even if you do end up in trouble, I will stand by you."

"You will?" You couldn’t hide the disbelief in your tone.

He nodded. "Of course. Look, I know we are in this... unconventional relationship and it appears that I couldnt care less about your existence, but you still carry my surname next to yours. And I wont allow anyone to disrespect what or who is associated with me. So, rest assured-" He leans forward, resting his arms on the mahogany desk and clasped his hands. "you have my support in all your endeavours, Mrs Silas."

A small smile formed on your lips. Maybe he's not so bad.

"Thank you, Silas- oh, can you drop me off there?" You knew he was going to leave in the carriage soon.

"No, I dont want my beautiful, pure bred stallions to go through those dirty streets. You can walk."

Jerk.

You stomped out of his study, not noticing the butler going in after you with the dessert you'd made for yourself last night.

"And what's this?" Silas asked him as he took a bite of the decadent, gooey chocolatey dessert.

"Uh, the duchess called it "brown-ies", but I've never heard of it before." Cadburry watched Silas ate it and sighed dreamily. "Do you like it, sir?"

"No." Silas pushed the empty plate towards him. "But I'd rather not have grandmother eat her cooking and say something. Bring me the leftovers."

"Y/n- oh, are you going somewhere?" Sarah asked just as you were about to leave.

"Yes, um- I'm going to meet my friends." Its not like you could tell her that you worked in the paper disguised as a man.

"Male friends?" She asked.

"Yes. My old flatmates." You watched her smile falter. "What?"

"Nothing, dearie. Enjoy your time with them! I hope you'll join us for dinner." You nodded and left while Sarah looked for her grandson.

"Where's Silas? I must speak to him this instant." She asked the maid, who informed her that the duke had went to play tennis just moments ago.

"Tennis?"

The maid nodded. "Yes. With his uncles."

Sarah was a little surprised to hear that. Not the tennis part, no. Silas is extremely well at any sport he plays, but she knows her sons arent ones who are good at athletics, let alone at a sport as strenuous as tennis.

An idea popped in her head.

You stood outside the Gentleman's club, watching people go in. Smoothing your hands over your black velvet dress, you made your way to the door.

After handing them your invitation, they let you inside and you saw a waiter handing everyone masquerade masks from a silver tray. Perhaps it was the theme for the club tonight, or maybe the club just gave masks to everyone to conceal their identities.

You were given a black and gold mask that covered the upper half of your face. As you adjusted the mask over your face, you heard a familiar voice.

"I need to see her. Now." You looked over your shoulder and saw Benjamin harshly whisper to one of the waiters. "She told me to come and I'm late as it is. Dont make her wait any longer!" You turned your head away as the waiter lead Benjamin into the club, all while Benjamin yanked a mask off the tray and pulled it over his head.

What is Benny doing here?

You quickly followed him inside, lest you lost sight of him, which you did as soon as you stepped into the main hall and were immediately stunned to your place at the sight.

Loud jazz music played by a band live, smell of smoke and alcohol filled the air and people. There were so many people, despite the club being "exclusive". And as your eyes scanned them, trying to spot familiar faces, your heart dropped at the realisation of what they were doing.

This was... an adult club. That kind of adult club, the one where there are absolutely no limitations on who is doing what with whom, all drunk on pleasure and drugs of course, no inhibitions. You spotted men with men, women with men, and more than one person pleasing another man.

Thats why this is an exclusive club, why they gave everyone masks. Because if word got out that a someone was here doing.... something that was generally a taboo and even punishable by both God and the law, well it would put them in huge trouble. People came here to let loose, to give in to their darkest desires.

What the hell is Benny doing here?

Averting your eyes, you looked for Benjamin and spotted him from afar, going into a room.

Oh God, please dont let it be a- please dont let sweet Benny be a depraved creep.

You waited for him to come out and after about 20 minutes, the door finally opened.

Benny walked out first, adjusting his mask again and then leaving. You're about to follow him, perhaps even confront him for being here when someone else walks out of the room as well.

A tall woman wearing a bright red, backless dress and a golden mask concealing her identity. But what really stood out were two things- first, her fiery red-orange hair that was styled into voluminous Hollywood waves. And second was her figure, her athletic built, or more specifically her broad shoulders and muscled arms.

Everything about this woman screamed important. And if it werent for her looks that demanded attention, then it was certainly her aura. People parted the way when she walked past them, all looking at her as if she was their saviour, an angel or divinity among men, which is ironic considering where you were.

You jumped as you felt an arm snake around your waist.

"What the hell?!" You looked at the culprit, who turned out to be a blonde woman drunk off her head.

"Oh dont be like that! Come on, love, let me show you a good time-" She tried to touch you again but you backed away before she could.

"No, thank you." You dismissed her, going back to looking at the red head.

"Prude." The blonde muttered before following your gaze. "Oh so thats what you're into? Well, put me in a red wig and we can play like that!"

"No, thanks." You huffed, eyes still trained on the woman in red.

The blonde scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "Well, its not like you'd be able to sleep with the club owner."

"She's the club owner? I thought Mr Blackwood owned this place."

"He does, but Lady Scarlett there runs this place, from entertainment to management. She does it all!"

Lady Scarlett? Fitting name.

Pushing away the blonde one more time, you looked for Lady Scarlett, except you lost sight of her now. You scanned the entire ballroom, but she was nowhere in sight.

"Shit." You mumbled, turning around only to stumble back as you came face-to-face with her, or well... face-to-chest. She towered over you.

Her bright red lips smiled knowingly at you. "Looking for me?" She asked in a sultry voice, stalking towards you until you were backed up against the wall.

"N-no-" You yelped as she suddenly grabbed both of your wrists in one hand and pinned them above your head.

You stared at her wide eyed as she leaned down, hovering inches away from your face and thats when it hit you-

Lady Scarlett is a man.

Of course! The muscled arms, the manly built, and now on close inspection, you saw the clean shave under the makeup too.

"Y-you're a man." You stated in disbelief, hoping to catch her or him, off guard. What even is he? A drag queen? A trans? You dont know if they existed in victorian era.

Scarlett tilted her head. "So? Are you the only one who is allowed to cross dress as the other gender?"

What? No, no way she knows-

She leaned in closer, whispering in your ear. "Did I catch you off guard, Mr Holmes?"

She knows!

"How- how did you-"

She smirked. "I know everyone that is associated with Mr Blackwood." She brought a hand up to your face, and you noticed a golden ring on her ring finger. She cupped your face. "And I know for a fact Henry wouldnt like his latest infatuation snooping around in a place like this. So..." She leaned into you again, staring into your eyes. "Leave."

You didnt have to be told twice. Lady Scarlett, that cross dresser creeped you out, even more so when she already knew you.

Stumbling out of the club, you removed your mask, dropping it to the ground. The fresh night air filled your lungs and cleared out the smokey air from the club. It was quiet outside, considering it was way past midnight and everyone was home now.

And I have to walk all the way home. You huffed, rubbing your arms. Because my husband would rather I get hypothermia than let his precious ponies walk through these streets.

You turn around, walking away from the club to see if there was a carriage available at this time, when you hear a shrill scream from the alleyway you're walking past.

And there it is- a woman lying in a puddle of her own blood as huge, dark figure slashed her face over and over again. The moonlight hit the woman's face- a blonde woman-

-the blonde from the club.

Frozen in your place, the figure stood up and looked at you, not at all looking startled at being caught mutiliating someone. It was definitely a man, huge stature, and he stared at you, the dark night concealing his identity. He slowly bent down to pick something up, a top hat, dusting it off before placing it on his head.

And then he tipped his hat at you.

What the fuck? What the fuck? What the fuck-

It wasnt until he took a step towards you that you finally broke out of your trance and ran. You ran and ran, not even risking a look back, not realising where you were running off to until you burst through their door, out of breath and paler than white paint.

"Y/n?" Colin rushed towards you, the Shepherd and Liam rushing into the living room as Colin helped you inside. "What happened? What's wrong?" He feared, as did all the boys, that Silas had done something to you.

"I- I- I-" You shake your head, the image of the dark figure running through your mind, the hat, the long cloak, the knife- it finally pieced together.

"I think I saw Jack the Ripper."

You sat at the police station with Colin. After explaining everything, he'd convinced you to report the murder.

The detective lead you inside the interrogation room, motioning for you to sit down as you began giving your statement.

"And who did you think the murderer was?"

"Jack the Ripper." Your answer made him roll his eyes. "And who might that be, miss?"

"I dont know." The investigator shook his head exasperated. "Of course you dont." He muttered, then sighed.

"So, what were you doing at this club?"

"Me?" You didnt pause for long. "I was invited there. My- my husband wanted me to attend on his behalf."

"Your husband-" he paused, reading your surname on the paper. "Fitzgerald? Wait, you're Mrs Silas Fitzgerald?" You nodded, making him sigh. "Guess it makes sense for you to be there..."

Whats that supposed to mean?

"Did you see anyone familiar there?"

"No." You answered curtly, before adding another detail. "Everyone was wearing masks. Couldnt recognise anyone even if I wanted to."

What? I'm not gonna rat out Benjamin and make him the prime suspect without gathering all the facts before.

It's definitely not because I have a soft spot for him since he reminds me of Qasim so much. Nope.

The door suddenly swung open and in walked what you assumed was the detectives superior since the man got up.

"Is this the witness for club murder?" The higher up asked him.

"Yes sir, she was just giving her statement-"

"No need. Dismiss the witness and the case. It's been handled." He told the detective who only nodded.

"Handled by who? You can't just dismiss the case!" You exclaimed getting up. But before he could reply, someone walked in from behind him.

"You can go now, Smith. I'll see Miss Y/n gets home safely." Henry patted the higher ups shoulder who left with the detective.

"What are you doing, Henry?" You crossed your arms.

"I could ask you the same." He leaned against the doorway, crossing his arms as well.

"I'm reporting a murder that happened outside your club! I saw him-"

"Saw who? Jack the Ripper?" He scoffed. "You think you saw him, but all you really saw was a dark shadow."

You shake your head. "I did see him-!"

"And how do you know that he's Jack the Ripper?" He pushed himself off the door frame, walking closer to you. "How do you know that he's the Ripper when no one knows who the man is?!"

You pursed your lips. You could argue that the victim profile and post mortem show a matching pattern but you doubt Henry is going to listen to reason.

"Even so, you should still let me give my statement. Why are you adamant on me not giving one? A woman was murdered for God's sake!" You try to walk past him, but he grabs your arm and yanks you back, making your chest collide with his.

"She was my employee. She worked for the club. And you-" his face hardened. "-you are insulting her death by making it a public frenzy. By stating that some sick nobody, someone who was nicknamed by the papers just to strike fear in people's hearts, killed her. I will not let you use her death so that your paper could make a quick buck! Jack the Ripper is a nobody!"

"Why do you think Blackwood's trying to cover up the murder?" Colin asked you as you two made your way towards your next destination.

"I dont know." You huffed. "Maybe he knows who the murderer is? Maybe he's protecting his business? Surely, if people were to hear that a serial killer made an appearance near his club, he'd lose clients."

"Or maybe he's the killer." You stopped and looked at him. Colin looked at you knowingly. "It would make sense for him to be Jack the Ripper, or at least the man who murdered that woman. It is very suspicious of him to probably bribing the coppers to drop the case."

You shake your head. "Its too obvious."

He rolled his eyes. "What? So Henry cant be the murderer because its “too obvious?” People make mistakes-"

"Not Henry." You cut him off. "He's too smart, calculating. There's got to be another reason for him to be sweeping this all under the carpet."

Colin shakes his head in disbelief, shoving his hands in his pockets as he looked ahead. "We're here."

You followed his gaze and saw the building. The sign on the gate read-

"Aveline's Asylum"

"Really? Right now?" You asked Colin, who just smiled cheekily.

"It'll take your mind off things. Just take a break and help me on this assignment and we can go back to speculating what Blackwood's motives are." He raised his brows. "Plus, I think you'll enjoy this one."

You followed him inside the asylum, walking through the lush green gardens and seeing the pristine white building ahead, you wondered how this would help Colin's "exposing horrendous hospital environments and patient care" article when all of this reall just screamed "rehab for the rich".

"Shouldnt we go to an asylum that is in much worse conditions than this? Possibly next to a workhouse?" You asked him, but Colin just smiled. "Why did you choose this place, Colin?”

"You'll see." He says before whispering to you. "Remember your script. And... action!”

While pretending to be insane (which was easy because all you had to say was that you don’t think being a mom or stay-at-home wife is your life’s purpose), you saw a familiar figure there. And he saw you too.

“Y/n? Colin?” Benjamin looked surprised. “What are you two doing here?”

“Working on an article.” Colin replied, glancing at the way you’d gotten quiet, staring at Benjamin.

“Oh. Right, the horrible healthcare environment. But why this place? Its practically one of the finest asylums, housing mostly the wealthy of London.”

Colin nodded. “I know! But I have a hunch about this place-”

“What are you doing here?” You cut him off.

“Me? Oh, I’m here to give haircuts.” Ben chuckled nervously. “Its not a noble cause, but the wealthy unwell patients do pay a lot.”

“Mmhm, where’s your hair kit?” You remember distinctly that Ben was very particular about using his own scissors, so he often carried his own.

Ben looked caught off-guard by your question, but he quickly recovered. “The nurses provided me with their own. Cant carry scissors around an asylum now, can I?”

How convenient.

Colin continued to make small talk with Ben, while you studied him. Even if you didn’t tell anyone that you saw Ben at the club the night of the murder, doesn’t mean that you didn’t suspect him. For all you know, appearances can be deceiving and this sweet man may just be the infamous Jack the Ripper.

Blonde haired, the kindest eyes, the sweetest smile, a golden retriever in human form- could Benjamin really have killed all those women so brutally? Then again, Ted Bundy was also known for his good looks and superficial charm.

Am I really comparing Benny to Ted Bundy? God, I hope I’m wrong.

“I should go now. See you at home?” Ben asked you, hopeful.

“Maybe.” You shrugged, Ben’s smile faltering at your answer. He then raised his hand to shake Colin’s and thats when you noticed a distinctly familiar golden ring on his hand.

The same one you’d seen on Lady Scarlett’s hand.

And just like that, everything fell into place.

By the time you’d reached home, you’d pieced out the story. Ben being at the exclusive club and being discrete about it, seen in a room with Lady Scarlett, both wearing the same rings-

He’s in a relationship with her. Or him.

Thats why Ben was at that club! Homosexuality or anything else that isn’t heterosexuality was simply not accepted in Victorian England, and was possibly punishable by law! Just look at Oscar Wilde! Ben is dating Scarlett, keeping it discrete, he never committed any murders because he’s not Jack the Ripper. He’s just not straight!

Oh, I’m so glad you’re not the Ripper, Benny. I knew you weren’t capable of committing such heinous crimes.

As for why he was at the asylum, maybe he’s telling the truth. He did come to give the rich patients a haircut because he needs the money to maintain Scarlett’s lifestyle or maybe be rich enough to whisk her/him away from the club.

Benny is such a gentleman.

Now that Benny is no longer a suspect, that leaves Henry to be the main suspect. Maybe he’s not the one killed the woman, maybe he hired someone? Or maybe Henry’s not the killer either, its just too- obvious.

“Why do you think Henry stopped me from reporting the murder?” You asked Silas as you whisked the eggs before adding them to the pan. Silas had entered the kitchen the moment he heard you were cooking, though he did shoot you a weird look for making scrambled eggs at 11 pm. With you running around London all day, you hadn’t found time to eat until now, and you were just looking for a quick meal really.

“He probably doesn’t want you scaring off his customers. If word gets out that a murderer, or as you claim- “The Ripper” was seen near the club, then people wont be frequenting the place. Or perhaps he’s protecting the murderer?” Silas suggests, swallowing as the smell of butter wafts through the kitchen.

You add cubes of cold butter in, then look at him. “What? You don’t believe that I saw the Ripper?”

“I believe that if you really saw the Ripper, then you wouldn’t still be alive. He had the time and the opportunity to get rid of you.Why else would the notorious killer would let a witness get away?” Silas crosses his arms over his chest, leaning against the kitchen counter near the stove.

“Maybe because he targets prostitutes? All of his previous victims match that profile.”

“Like he could tell a difference-”

“Are you saying I look like a prostitute?” You dished out the eggs. “No, you’re saying that. I’m saying that the man you saw kill that woman was just an amateur who was caught offguard by you, otherwise he would’ve attacked you too.” Silas states before grabbing the plate of buttery scrambled eggs on toast from your hands.

“Hey! Thats mine-” “My kitchen, my eggs.” He smirked before walking off. “You can make yourself more, I need to feed my dogs first.”

You glared at him until he left the kitchen, not knowing whether he really was going to feed it to the dogs or it was just a lie disguised as an insult so that he could eat it himself.

It was the latter. Always.

The next day, after you’d taken another ballet lesson from Sarah, you were about to go out to investigate the club again but Sarah had other plans for you.

“Y/n, I need you to stay at home today.”

“Oh, is everything alright?” You ask. She never made you stay home before. “Are we having company?”

“No. I think that you should play some sports to keep yourself fit. As a ballerina, it is important to keep both the mind and the body sound, and what better way to achieve that than by playing in the sun!” She lead you outside towards the tennis court, hidden by the huge bushes for privacy from outsiders.

“Tennis?” You ask her, and she confirms it. “Yes. Do you know how to play?”

Do I know how to- if I wasn’t so obsessed with history and sciences (and my mom scared that me wearing a skirt would attract predators), I had plans on playing professionally. Qasim and I used to play tennis at the club he’d won a membership in. We were both very competitive but he was just always a little better than me. He always knew my moves, he read me like an open book.

I was second only to Qasim though. Everyone else? They ate dust.

“Yes, I do.” You smiled at her. “Who am I playing with?”

“Me.” Silas spoke from behind you, dressed in all-white tennis wear. He looked at Sarah unamused. “Nana, I thought you said you had a worthy opponent for me.”

You shot him a glare, but Sarah came to your defense. “Now, now. You don’t know how capable your wife is. And I’m willing to bet that she’d make you run out of breath, Silas.”

You smiled cheekily as Silas scoffed. “We’ll see.” Sarah places a hand on your back. “Why don’t you go get changed, dear? I had the maids prepare an outfit for you.” When you left, Sarah looked at Silas. “Now Silas, I know you play exceptionally well but you must remember that this match is more of a way to spend time with your wife. Not a way to show off. So, be a gentleman, hm?”

You huffed as you returned to the tennis court. What the hell is this? Silas gets to wear a shirt and pants and I have to wear a full length dress with a corset and a hat?!

Mom would probably have let me gone pro if this was the official tennis wear for women.

Sarah sat on the side lines and watched you two play. Silas let you serve first and after a couple of back-and-forth, you won the first point. And then the next. And the next.

“Ah, you’re doing fantastic, Y/n!” Sarah cheered before standing up when the butler informed her that a guest has come to see her. “I’ll be back! You two keep playing!”

As Sarah left, you couldn’t help but tease Silas. What? He still makes you sleep on the floor! “So, how does it feel to lose to a girl?”

“I wouldn’t know.” And with that, Silas threw the ball in the air and served.

The ball shot past your head, just centimetres away from hitting you.

“What the hell? I wasn’t ready-”

“Lame excuses dont work on me.” He pulled out another ball and bounced it. “Are you ready now, duchess?”

You scowled at him before getting in position. “I’m ready, jerk.”

You lost two of the three matches. The first match you almost won was because Sarah was there and Silas was going easy on you, but when Sarah left, Silas regained all those points by serving topspin and slice serves. By the second match, you were finally able to return his fast serves, but now Silas used his speed and your lack of because of your heavy dress and made you run around all over the court trying to return his fast shots. By the third match, you were all out of breath but not out of determination. So, Silas decided that now would be the time to use your body as target practise and he hit the ball over your legs and arms, only stopping when one shot hit you in the head and made you fall on the ground.

“Are you okay?” He asked, barely suppressing the glee in his voice. He held out a hand to help you up, but you swatted it away and got up on your own.

“Finish the game.” You growled and he raised his hands in surrender before returning to his side of the court. For the rest of the third match, he missed all the shots you served and let you win. And he did it so openly, not even being courteous enough to hide his intentions.

Sarah watched you return inside the house, looking all sweaty and angry as you stomped unto your room. Silas trailed in behind, a satisfied grin on his face and Sarah shook her head at him disappointedly. “What did you do, Silas?”

“Nothing. I even let her win the last round, but she’s still angry.” Sarah looked at him admonishingly, making him sigh. “Fine, fine. I’ll go talk to her. The things I do for you, Nana.”

“The things you do for love, Silas.” She corrected him.

Sure. Silas rolled his eyes mentally. I “love” Y/n.

Silas entered the bedroom and saw you had showered and changed into new clothes. “Going somewhere? Perhaps to get some handkerchiefs to wipe all the sweat and tears?” He watched you glare at him through the mirror and he chuckled, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, I’m sorry. I’m just teasing. But seriously, where are you going? I could give you a ride.”

“I’m going to an asylum with Colin.” You huff, packing some things in your small purse. Silas nodded. “Good idea to get yourself finally checked-” He dodged the hairbrush you threw at his head, chuckling. “Now now, duchess. It isn’t exactly speaking much for your mental health for you to be chucking things at your dear husband.”

Ignoring his antics, you slipped on your shoes, walking out of the room. He trailed behind you. “Dont be mad. I’m just playing around. Come on, I’ll drop you off at Saint Peters asylum. Its on my way to work.”

“I’m not going to Saint Peters. I’m going to Aveline’s.” You stated, ready to walk off but he grabbed your arm.

“What?” You looked at his shocked face. “What?” You repeated his question. Why did he suddenly look so pale.

“Where are you going?” He asked, his grip tightening when you tried to move. “Which asylum?”

“Aveline’s.” You frowned, grabbing his hand and removing it from your arm. Silas expression paled further.

“Why?”

You shrugged. “Colin wants to do an article on horrible asylum conditions and treatment of patients-”

“Dont.” Silas ordered more than he suggested. “That place- don’t go there.”

“And why not?” You looked at him skeptically. “Colin wants to do a piece on the place-”

“Pick another asylum. I can get you access to any other.” Silas ignored your question, averting his eyes. “You will not go there, and you will not write a piece on that asylum.”

You grabbed his arm to make him look at you. “What are you hiding, Silas?”

Silas stared at you before yanking his arm out of your grasp. “I don’t have to explain myself to you. Just- do as I say.” He raised finger, wagging it at your warningly. “I’m telling you- you will not go there again, Y/n. And if I find out that you or Colin or anyone else tried to write about that place, I will shut down that paper and make sure none of them find a job ever.”

You watched Silas leave you there standing dumbfounded.

Did he really just threaten me?

This bitch.

Silas watched you leave from the window. He knows you wont listen to him, knows that its inevitable to try to stop you from going to Aveline, so he already sent someone to bribe the staff to not let you on the asylum premises. He’s not worried about who you’re meeting or where you’re going, just as long as its not Aveline.

No. He closed his eyes, painful memories flashing through his mind. You cant know. You cant know.

He sat down on his chair, trying to think of ways to divert your attention from the asylum. You’re as stubborn as a mule, you wont listen to him. So he has to create distractions for you.

Jack the Ripper!

Of course, the murder case!

“Cadburry!” He called his butler. “Arrange me an invite for the Gentleman’s club. Now.”

You were sitting in the boys apartment, Benjamin playing with your hair out of habit, braiding it, unbraiding it, then braiding it again. Colin sat confused. “Why cant we go to the asylum today?”

“I’m not in the mood to see depressing white halls today. Besides, I have an errand to run.” You lean your head further back for Benny.

“And what that might be?” Colin was intrigued.

“Girly errand. You wont understand.” You dismiss him. “But we’ll go to Aveline’s again, thats for sure.” You felt Benny tug your hair at that statement.

“Ow! Benny!” You glare at him. Ben shakes out of his daze, apologising profusely. “Sorry, sorry! I was just lost in my thoughts.”

A coy smile formed on your lips. Lost in thought? Oh, I know exactly what kind of thoughts you’re having, Benny.

Colin stood up with a sigh. “Alright then. I’ll go to office and start writing down a draft.” You nodded as he left you alone with Ben.

Once you heard the door click, you immediately turned around. “Hey, Benny.”

He gave you a gentle smile. “Hey, Y/n.”

“So…” you wiggled your brows at him. “What’s going on with you?”

“Hmm… nothing much really. I got a new customer who wanted a toupee. Apparently word got around that I’m a very skilled barber, no matter how much hair one has or lack of, I can make it work!”

“Yes, thats lovely Benny, but-” you cleared your throat. “I meant, whats going on with you, personally. You look happier, livelier these days.”

He shrugged, offering you another sweet smile. “I guess that’s just the effect you have on people around you.”

Ugh! Stop being so charming, Benny!

“Thanks, Benny. But… I don’t know, I feel like there’s something different about you.” You tried another approach. “You know you can tell me anything, right? I wont ever judge you or anything.”

Though he was smiling, you saw something flicker in his eyes. Doubt? Fear?

“What do you mean, Y/n?” He asked, his voice stable as usual.

Your eyes studied him.

“Did you meet someone new?”

There it is! That flicker in his eyes. His face didn’t let anything away but his eyes, you saw it.

“Yes.” Finally, we’re getting somewhere. “I met you.”

Stupid Benny. Annoying Benny.

Sighing, you realise that maybe he’s just not ready to come out yet. And that I shouldn’t take it personally because I am close with him and he could tell me anything, just like Qasim would. It would be unfair to force Ben to tell you about Lady Scarlett before he’s ready.

“Thanks, Benny.” You said, hiding your disappointment. “I have to go now. Have to go… run that errand.”

“Oh, need me to come?” He got up with you. You shake your head. “No, I’ll manage on my own.”

Why would I tell you when you wont tell me about your love?

You were now standing outside the club again. You had initially returned to the back alley to investigate the crime scene again but it had been scrubbed clean and Henry had somehow managed to get a permit to start construction to expand the club further.

He was erasing the crime scene. Henry was trying to hide something.

Speak of the devil, you saw Henry exit the club and get in his carriage. Once you were sure he’d left, you made your way towards the club entrance, still having the invite from last time, only for the guards to stop you.

“I’m sorry but Mr Blackwood has forbidden you from entering the club, Miss Y/n.” One guard said, holding a hand up to halt you.

“Mrs Fitzgerald.” You corrected him, hoping to use the name to get by. “I am the duchess of Westminster!”

“Forgives us, Miss Y/n, but Mr Blackwood specifically instructed us to not let you in and he also instructed us not to address you by anything but Miss Y/n or- um…” The other guard trailed off, making you narrow your eyes at him.

“Or?” You sneered at him to continue.

“Or… future-Mrs Blackwood.” He mumbled but you heard him loud and clear.

I’m going to kill him.

“Listen here and listen clear!” Your voice took a threatening tone, though you’re sure it would look comical to an outsider seeing a woman of your stature trying to intimidate men who were towering over you with their buff physiques.

“I am going to only be addressed as MRS FITZGERALD and you will let me in this club right now or I will have my husband, the duke of Westminster, shut this place down before your twat boss would dare to associate his name with me again!” You yelled with your nostrils flared. “Now, you will march in and inform Lady Scarlett that I’m here to see her. And if she says no, tell her I know about the rings!”

The guards shared a look, probably trying to communicate telepathically whether to let you in or not.

Fortunately for you, your huffing and puffing seemed to work and one of them walked in before returning moments later.

“Please wait for a short while Lady Scarlett entertains some guests.”

After about 20 long minutes, during which you were sure Henry would turn up and have you carried off the premises, the guards finally lead you inside.

“This way, future Mrs Blackwood.” You shot him a glare but didn’t say anything since you were inside the club anyways. They lead you up the stairs towards the room that you had seen Ben go into the last time you were here.

The door opened and you saw a large bed on one side, silk sheets and plush cushions adorning it, and a huge vanity in the other corner, full of makeup and expensive jewels, all arranged in an orderly manner. Then there was a table next to the vanity on which sat a variety of beautiful red haired wigs.

“They’re made from real hair.” A voice said from behind you. You turned to see Lady Scarlett, wearing a maroon robe and a black mask covering her identity. Her trademark red hair, still styled as beautifully as the first time you saw it and that bright red lipstick on her lips. “Benjamin was sweet enough to get them for me.”

She walked past you and sat down on a couch next to the window that opened to the balcony outside, and then she lit up a cigarette, holding it in a vintage cigarette holder.

Not that I would ever condone a nasty habit such as smoking, but she looked absolutely badass in that moment.

“What do you want, Mrs Blackwood?” Scarlett let out a huge exhale of smoke.

“Fitzgerald. I know about the rings.” You state, watching her take another drag.

“What rings?” She asked, feigning innocence.

“The golden rings.” You narrow your eyes. “I saw it on your hand that night and I saw it on Benjamin’s hand as well. I know whats going on, and I’m here to talk about that.” Taking a deep breath, you blurted out your suspicions.

“I know you and Benjamin are in a relationship.”

She looked up at you expectedly, not at all alarmed at being caught. Then again, why would she be caught off guard? Considering the line of business she’s in, she probably has practiced her poker face.

“Is that so, Mrs Blackwood?” Scarlett’s lip’s curled up. “So what?”

So what?

“Look, I mean no harm, but I- I care about Benjamin a lot. He’s like family to me, and I know its not my place but I am very protective of him and I just… I’m just here to make sure that this is not some sort of game for you. I don’t want you playing with his feelings, so if you’re not serious about him then I suggest you end things with him now before it gets too messy.”

Scarlett looked at you before chuckling. “As you wish, Mrs Blackwood.” He stood up with a click of his tongue. “Now, is that all or do you have any more shocking news to pass on to me, Mrs Blackwood? I suggest you do it now because you wont be stepping a foot in this club again.”

“Its Mrs Fitzgerald. And I don’t plan on returning to this depraved scum either.”

“Depraved scum, huh?” Scarlett tilted her head slightly in a mocking manner. “Since you insist on calling yourself Mrs Fitzgerald so proudly, let me show you something as well.” He opened the door and lead you towards the top of the stairwell, from where you could see everyone and everything down below on the dance floor.

She nodded her head to the far right corner and your heart dropped for a second. Is that-

“Mr Fitzgerald seems to be enjoying himself. Though not all that much.” Scarlett said as your eyes remained focused on Silas who was sitting on a chair, looking uninterested by the different women who surrounded him. “Maybe he likes boys. I’ll send some his way-” You rushed out of the club, not able to hear another word or see Silas for another moment longer.

Its been a couple of days since you went to the club. Of course, when you arrived home and waited for Silas to return, who upon your questioning about his whereabouts claimed he was meeting a businessman.

He lied.

You tried to distract yourself by taking more ballet lessons from Sarah, but still your attention lingered on him.

Why was he there?

You then tried to divert your mind towards work, and then here you are, sitting on your desk with a blank paper, ready to be filled with words.

Why was he there?

Dropping your pen because you knew you weren’t going to be able to get anything done until you processed your feelings about this.

What feelings? Certainly not jealousy because I am far more mature than this. Its just-

I thought he had standards. Taste. Sure I might not be fine wine, but I’m certainly better than those skank-

Nope. I am a woman. I will not be bringing other women down because of a man.

But Silas… how dare he? Yes, how dare he?! I am not jealous, I am insulted! How dare he act like he’s a polished aristocrat and I’m just ditzy, poorer than a church mouse, a NOBODY, when he goes around prancing his repute and himself in the utter gutters of London?

Maybe he’s just hypersexual. Yes, he’s a depraved, disgusting individual and I married him. Great. So the first man I married, had a NIKKAH with, turned out to be lying, cheating, piece of-

Why did he lie?

Its not like he expects me to sleep with him. If he did, why would he still make me sleep on the floor?

Baldwin would’ve never made me sleep on the floor, always covered me with his cloak because he knew how much the cold bothered me.

And he’s always so rude to me! He beat me at tennis, quite literally!

Salauddin always lost to me in chess. And he let me rub my wins in his face too!

Not to mention, how uncaring he is to my feelings!

Ibrahim always put my happiness above everything. He chose to wait for me, until I was safe- felt safe.

And of all of them, I ended up marrying Silas.

How dare he?

Pushing yourself back into your desk, you began writing down furiously. Fuck Silas, fuck Henry, and fuck Lady Scarlett! I WILL go back to Aveline Asylum, I WILL expose the the Ripper and- if I have time, maybe find Benny a better significant other!

“Woah there- what are you writing?” Colin came up behind you, frowning at the title he read.

“The Ripper strikes again! Murder outside the exclusive club for the wealthy freaks!” Colin looked at you. “Have you gone bonkers?”

“Yes.” You snapped. “You cant talk me out of it, so why don’t you go and get us access into Aveline asylum again. Discreetly, this time.”

By the time everyone was going home, you had finished your article and dropped it on the editor’s desk just as he was about to leave.

“Read this. Trust me, its worth it.” You look over your shoulder. “And I have a witness ready to go public- Mrs Fitzgerald.” Of course, the editor wouldn’t ever figure out that you are Mrs Fitzgerald, not Mr Holmes.

However, you were a little surprised to see that he hadn’t published your article in the paper the next morning. Storming to work, you quickly made your way towards the editor’s office, barging in without knocking.

“Hello there, love.” He smiled cheekily. Instead of your editor, Henry Blackwood sat in his chair, his legs propped up on the desk. “I was waiting for you.”

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“What? You can barge into my business, but I can’t swing by yours?” He asked, feigning hurt.

“No. Now leave.”

“Well then its a good thing that this is also my business now.” Henry grinned, removing his feet from the desk and replacing them with his arms, resting his head in his hand as he stared at your fuming self.

“What?”

“Oh love, you’re looking at your new boss. I just bought the paper this morning.” He winked, standing up and making his way to you. “See, I told you not to come by the club again, I told you to drop the Ripper case, and you didn’t listen either time. So, I’ve come here to tame you. Personally. Seems like you need my undivided attention, kitten-”

“I did drop the Ripper case. I didn’t give my statement to the police!” You exclaimed.

He tutted, wagging his finger at you. “No, but you did write an article. You’re lucky I was here before it got published.”

You frowned. “How- how did you know about the article? I wrote it yesterday, I gave it to the editor at the last moment-”

“I have eyes everywhere, Y/n.” He smirked, leaning down to whisper. “Especially on you, naughty kitten.”

Henry chuckled as he looked at your flushed face, mistaking your anger for bashfulness. He walked out of the door but not before passing another comment to tick you off.

“Nice moustache. Or shall I say… whiskers, kitten?”

For the next 3 days, you didn’t leave the house. You didn’t even leave your room. It seemed like all your previous pettiness-driven motivation had run out and dropped you into the well of depression. And here you wallowed in your sadness, taking Silas’s bed even when he was away and looking like a pitiful lump of sadness under the covers.

“What is wrong with you?” Silas asked, exasperated as he sat down on the bed to tie his shoes. “How long will this go on? You have missed your ballet classes and you are worrying grandmother.”

“I’m just sleepy, okay?” You mumbled from under the sheets. “Its not like sleeping on the cold, hard floor is helping me.”

“And it seems like sleeping in my bed hasn’t helped either.” He raised a brow. “Its been 3 days already. This has gone long enough. Now you can either tell me what is wrong or I will have Cadbury drag you out and hose you down in the gardens.”

You shoved the covers down to glare at him. Asshole. You don’t doubt that he would have his butler hose you down.

“I miss… I miss my brother.” You mumbled as you averted your eyes. “Qasim would fix everything for me. He always had a solution, always. And I- I need him right now. To guide me, to handle things for me.”

“So… why don’t you ask for his help?” Silas asked, fixing his tie.

You stared at his back before looking down at your lap. “We’re not on speaking terms… I’m mad at him.”

Silas rolled his eyes. “Well he’s your family, isn’t he? I’m sure you can still talk to him.”

“Cant.” You muttered gloomily, making Silas’s annoyance trigger off.

“And why the bloody hell not?” He turned to glare at you. “You cant get out of my bed! You cant attend work! You cant take your classes! You cant tell me what’s bothering you! And you cant talk to your own brother! Why!? Why?! WHY?!”

You flinched at his harsh town before tears filled your eyes.

“Because… he’s dead.”

Your statement rung in Silas’s ears like a daunting bell. Dead. Dead. Dead.

God, did he feel like shit now.

You threw the covers off you, getting out of bed as you fixed his sheets.

“Sorry for hogging your bed.” You sniffled, using your sleeve to wipe your tears as you walked past him, only for Silas to catch your wrist. With a gentle tug, he had you sitting back down on the bed.

“I’m sorry.” He said, sincerely. “I was just… frustrated due to things at work. I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”

“Its fine, whatever. You’re right, I’ll go to work and classes-” He tightened his grip on your wrist when you tried to leave.

“No.” He tilted your chin towards him. “You’re not going anywhere until you tell me what’s wrong. I may not be your brother, but I am your husband.”

You stared at him conflicted. Did he really mean it?

He answered your silent question with a gentle squeeze of your hand. “I will fix your problems, Y/n.” He offered a smile. “Your duke is at your service.”

After you told Silas your work situation with Henry and how he’s stopping you from writing anything about Jack the Ripper, how you cant get anything done with his shadow looming over you and monitoring everything you do, Silas explained that solution to it was all simple.

“I will buy the paper from Henry.” He stated nonchalantly, as if he was talking about buying eggs not a newspaper company.

“I dont think he will give you the company. He wont put it up for sale-”

“Everything is for sale, Y/n. You just need to find the right price.” He stood up, assuring you he will buy the company. “I’ll get the company, if you promise to put on a great show. You focus on the ballet classes. After all, the show is only a week from now.”

The following seven days were filled with you doing ballet for hours and hours, all with one motivation.

Not to let Silas down.

Because if I let him down, if I embarrass him, then he wont get the paper from Henry. And I wont be able to find Jack the Ripper or help Colin with the asylum! And Silas will lose trust in me and wont let me have my space at the Westminster palace or wherever so that I can work on my time machine-

Time machine! You face palmed. I’ve been so busy with the murders and shitty men that I forgot to build my machine! My way home!

No, after the show, I’m- I’m demanding- I’m moving out. I don’t care if I get the paper or not, I need to build my machine.

“Oh Y/n, what are you doing in the storage- honey, are you alright? You look like you’re about to pass out! Cadbury! Hurry and open the windows!” Sarah guided you out of the dusty store to sit down, fanning you with her hands. “Oh dear, do you hate confined spaces like Silas too?”

You took deep breaths as fresh air flooded in through the windows, furrowing your brows. “What?”

“Nothing dear, I just thought you felt suffocated in closed spaces, like Silas!” She explained. “He cant stay in a room with closed windows for too long, you know.”

Now that she mentions it, she’s right. You don’t remember Silas being in a room without at least a window open, even as winter rolled around. Hell, he still opens the balcony windows in the bedroom as soon as he wakes up, but you thought that was because he hated your guts and wanted to give you an early wake up call by letting the cold air slap your face and rattle your bones.

“Why does he hate confined spaces?” You ask, letting her loosen your corset.

Sarah looked a little hesitant to tell you, but then relented when you asked her again. “He never told me the reason, but I figured it was the night when his mother passed away. Silas… he was just a young boy, he was hiding in his closet. He liked to scare his mother when she came to check on him, and so he often hid in the closet to give her a fright. He saw his mother get murdered while he was in the closet.” She looked down sadly. “Unfortunately, the killer’s identity was hidden by the dark night. Silas wasn’t able to identify who killed his mother, and I suppose he’s blamed himself a little for that incident.”

Damn. Thats… dark. And sad.

Maybe I can excuse Silas for being rude to me at times. Maybe. Just a tad.

The night of the ballet show rolled around quicker than you’d expected. And despite all the hours of practice and Sarah’s countless assurances that you’d be amazing, you knew the reality.

Your performance was barely passable.

From a young age, you were able to critique yourself very well. As Qasim said- “Only you know yourself the best!” And you knew right now, as you stood backstage, peeking through the curtains at the audience and spotting the queen and her family, you were utterly, truly set up for failure.

NO ONE CAN LEARN BALLET IN 2 MONTHS! AT LEAST NOT ENOUGH TO IMPRESS THE QUEEN!

Your stomach churned, you felt bile rise up your throat, your legs wobbled as you backed away from the curtain, stumbling away, right into Silas’s arms.

“Silas- Silas, I cant do this! I can’t! I can’t!” You cried out and Silas tightened his grip on your arms.

“Okay.”

Okay?

“What?”

“Okay. You cant do it.” He squeezes your shoulders. “I guess I’ll just tell everyone to go home. I’ll apologise to the queen and make up an excuse as to why she wont be seeing a performance by my wife tonight. But hey, she’s family. She’ll understand, right?”

You stared at him in confusion. Silas ran a hand through his fingers. “As for all the journalist who came here to write about you, and all the influential people I’ve invited over because this was your formal introduction into high society, I guess I’ll just have to make something up. But you-“ he gave you a warm smile that didn’t meet his eyes. “-you don’t worry your pretty little head over this. Its okay, I… well, if I’m being honest, I never really expected you to perform.”

“What?”

He shrugged. “I knew you’d back out at the last second. Oh well, what can we do. Now-” he rubbed his chin in thought. “Should I tell the guests that you’ve broken your leg? Or perhaps you cant perform because you’re with child? If we go with the first excuse, people may call you a ditz, maybe unprofessional. And they might come to check on you. But if we go with the second excuse, people will talk about- well, it has been only a month into our marriage-”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Is he… did he set you up?

“You expected me to not perform?” You asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“No, Y/n. I expected you to fail to deliver what I require of you. I expected you to perform in front of an audience, and that was all I asked. I didn’t ask you to become a prima donna, I just wanted you to be good enough. Which you are in my opinion. But your doubt in yourself right now is only because you clearly haven’t spent enough time practising because you were too busy running around town, going to clubs and asylums and chasing after a murderer when all of your attention should’ve been on becoming a competent wife!” Silas fumed, tightening his grip on your shoulders. “I asked you again and again to focus on the ballet lessons, and you ignored my advice repeatedly and for what? Because you wanted to prove yourself? Because you wanted to play detective and solve murders? When you cant even do a simple job as putting on a show? And I knew- I knew you would abandon me like this, so you know what, Y/n? While I keep my end of the bargain, while I invited Henry tonight to talk him into selling the paper to me, you continue to let me down. So go on stage or don’t, I really don’t give a shit now. I can’t take your word ever again.”

Silas stormed off, leaving you shell shocked backstage. You sat down on the steps, trying to control your breathing. How could he- how can he say all that to you?

Does he not understand the pressure you’re under? Does he not understand how hard all of this is for you?

You really thought that after you told him about Qasim, after he assured he that he would help you out, that he would fix your problems-

I thought he understood. I thought he had my back.

You let out a shaky exhale, rubbing your chest to ease your ache. Why is it so hard to breathe all of a second?

Tonight, you didn’t invite Colin or Benny or any of the boys, and it only hit you now how truly lonely you were. There’s no Colin. No Benny. No friends. No family. No Qasim. No… Silas.

“Ma’am? Ma’am, are you alright?” Cadbury looked alarmed as he spotted you looking shell shocked, struggling to breathe.

“I… I cant-” You couldn’t speak, and the butler quickly took your nervous, trembling form in and sprung into action.

“Here, duchess- ma’am, drink this.” He brought you a cup of tea. “It’ll calm the nerves, ma’am. Drink it.”

You let the bitter, warm liquid slide down your throat without a second thought.

“You’ll be alright now, ma’am. You’ll be all… right.” The butler assured you kindly, helping you stand up. In just a matter of seconds, your anxiety had melted away and was replaced with… unbridled confidence.

“What did I just drink?” The words slipped out as you felt your heart beat faster. Your eyes snapped towards Cadbury. “What did you give me?” The words came out quickly.

“Nothing special. Its just tea to calm you.” He said, ushering you up the steps towards the stage curtains. “Are you ready now, ma’am?”

Your eyes zeroed in on the white particles on his collar. Like powder.

“Is that snow?” If you weren’t so hyper focused on his collar, it would concern you how fast you were talking. “Is it snowing outside already?”

Cadbury looked down on his collar and suppressed a smile. “Yes, duchess. You could say that. Now- please return your attention to your performance. We are all rooting for you.”

“Not Silas.” You snapped again, your eyes looking at the dark curtains as you take your position. “Not that twat.”

Cadbury’s brows shot up in shock. “Ma’am-”

“I’ll show that twat.” And then the curtains opened.

Silas sat down in his seat with a satisfied sigh. Everything is going according to plan. You’re nervous and he just chewed you out so the stage will now be empty because you’ve ran off to cry a river, the royal family will once again be embarrassed as they happily welcomed Silas and his Muslim wife into the family (by making them the duke and duchess) and with all the journalists he invited, the news will now spread like wildfire that Silas rejected a princess, Queen Victoria’s daughter to marry an embarrasment.

The princess was one upped by a fool. A commoner. A failed ballerina.

Did Silas feel bad for you? Just a little, because he didnt like the way you looked at him, hoping for support, maybe even motivation, only for him to break your heart. Broken hearts can be mended, but broken reputations? Nope.

Besides, he’s sure that when he buys the company from Henry and give it to you, you’ll forget all about it! Everything will work out just as he’d planned-

What the hell?

The curtain opened and instead of being met with an empty stage like he’d planned, there you stood in your white tutu skirt, face completely devoid of any expression.

What are you doing?

The pianist began playing a tune he didn’t recognise. Sarah did tell him that of the three songs you had chosen, there was one she hadn’t heard ever before. You’d worked with the pianist to get the tune right, and at that time, he was impressed at how much work you were putting into this.

As the music played, you began dancing. From what his grandmother had told him, he was expecting soft, gentle, shy dance.

And yet you were doing anything but that. Your movements were strong, powerful, determined. You were nothing like the woman whose hope he’d crushed just moments ago. You were all alone on that big stage, but you practically leaped from one side of the stage to the other, your legs faster than lightening.

By no means did you look like a mess, or that you didn’t know what your were doing. Your eyes were wide open, as if hyper aware of your surroundings and your audience. From beside him, Silas could hear his grandmother whispering the choreography.

“En pointe. En pointe. En pointe.” You were now dancing on the tip of your toes, and Silas could only imagine how painful, if not destructive this could be to your feet.

“Tendu. Chaine turn. Chaine turn. Pique manege.” Now, you were moving across the stage while making turns.

And finally, the big ending. “Pirouette. Pirouette. Keep spotting, Y/n. Pirouette.” Silas knew about the pirouettes. He watched you spin around your own axis, in a fixed position on a ground, your body moving first, your head later, your eyes focused on a spot in the dark so that you don’t lose your balance. You turned- 1,2,3, he lost count because you were turning too fast.

“34- was that 34 turns, Silas?”

Thirty four? Thirty four pirouettes?!

The performance ended with fouetté turns, which according to Sarah were about 28 and you exited the stage dancing en pointe, on the tip of your toes.

The ballet hall erupted in applause and cheers, and Silas stood up with everyone else to give a standing ovation to a now empty stage.

What the hell just happened?

Its hot. Its hot. I’m burning up!

As soon as you were off stage, of which you have no memory of your performance, you almost fell to the ground if it weren’t for strong arms catching you. And the moment your eyes caught sight of the broad shoulders, you instantly pushed yourself away, throwing yourself against the wall to support yourself.

“Careful there, love.” Henry grinned, clapping his hands in mocking manner. “That was quite the performance you gave, kitten. I’m very impressed.”

“What are you doing here?” You spat out, wiping the sweat off your forehead with the back of your hand. He tilted his head, amused at the sight of your flushed cheeks. “Silas invited me. He wanted to discuss business. I wonder if the little kitten went to her owner for help because she couldn’t scratch me with her tiny paws?”

“Owner?” You heaved a shaky breath. His smirk widened. “What else would you name it? He bought you to be his wife, because you know and I know that there isn’t and there never will be love between you two. He’s just using you. So drop the charade and come to me-” Henry caught your wrist before you could slap him, and while he may have stopped your physical assault, he wasn’t able to stop your verbal one.

“What would you know about love? You’re here, pursuing a married woman who has insulted you from the very first moment. Those skanks at your disgusting club have more self esteem than you do right now. You’re fucking pathetic and I’d rather eat a cactus and shit it out before I marry an entitled, emasculated prick like you. Fuck off!” You shoved him away and stormed out of there, unaware of just how much Henry wanted to wring your neck (just for a moment) and how a certain someone had overheard this little spat.

And he smiled proudly.

Good job, Y/n. He thought to himself.

“Fuck!” You screamed as you burst through the doors and landed out in the gardens, falling to the snowy ground, letting the ice cool your burning temperature.

How the hell am I burning up when its literally snowing?!

You grabbed a fistful of snow and threw it to your face, trying to cool down your body temperature. When that didnt work, you dove face first into the ground, before flipping on your back, letting the snow engulf your body from all sides. Your ballerina costume was thin and sheer as it could be, finally allowing the cold to creep into your skin and slowly into your bones.

Now that the adrenaline rush and whatever the hell was in that tea wore off, your body immediately went into fatigue and became aware of all the aches in your body, especially the pain in your feet. You tried to move, but your muscles didn’t budge. They were tired out, strained beyond their limits.

The cold suddenly became too unbearable and your teeth rattled. You tried to lift your head, tried to yell for help but it was like your mind had suddenly went autopilot and decided to shut down to let your body recover from its fatigue.

“No…” You whispered, as tears slipped out of your eyes. Everyone was inside, the party was loud, no one would even hear you scream for help even if you tried, no one would come to your aid. The realisation that you would freeze to death had you panicking, but alas, your brain refused to cooperate with you.

You heard the sound of footsteps and a glimmer of hope rose in you. Turning your head to the side took the last bit of energy, and your brain put you out of your misery when you saw the daunting shadowy figure that imprinted itself in your mind from the night of the murder.

The cloak, the top hat, a golden ring on his hand and the shiny glint of the knife.

The Ripper is here.

Your mouth fell open in a silent scream before you blacked out.

So??? Thoughts??? Also nobody @ me for not putting a "keep reading" button because I had to edit 12k words TWICE on mobile, I have pulled an all nighters for yall. I have to go to clinic in loke 2 hours.

Yall better send comment and send ask.

#time traveller au #male yandere #yandere x you #yandere x #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere male #yandere #silas Fitzgerald #yandere oc #jack the ripper

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dannygordonart · 2 years ago

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Personalized Coffee Mugs For Dog Lovers

When you have a pet, you often feel the need to shower them with gifts. This may include a new collar, leash, or even a personalized coffee mug! But what about the people who don't have pets? Why not get a personalized coffee mug for them too? They are a fun gift to give and don't take up much space in your home. Plus, they make a great conversation starter. Here are some ideas for personalized dog coffee mugs.

1. What are personalized coffee mugs?

Personalized coffee mugs are a great way to show your love for your dog. They are a fun way to keep your coffee warm and your hands dry. The best part is that they are affordable, especially when you purchase them in bulk. You should be aware that there are a few different types of personalized coffee mugs. Some are just simple mugs with your dog’s name on them. Others are more intricate and have more features, such as paw prints. They are also available in a wide variety of colors and designs.

2. Examples of personalized coffee mugs

Personalized coffee mugs are a great way to show your love for your furry friends. You can create a unique coffee mug for each of your dogs and make them feel special. This can also help you remember your furry friends as they get older and you'll be able to reminisce about the good times you shared with them. You can also give a personalized coffee mug as a gift to someone who you know loves their dog.

3. What to put on your personalized coffee mug

It is often difficult to find the perfect gift for a dog lover. This is because a lot of the gift items for dogs are really for the people that love their dogs. If you know someone who loves their dog, you should make that person a personalized coffee mug. There are a lot of different things you can put on the personalized coffee mug, including the name of their dog, their favorite breed, and their favorite photo of their dog. You can also do some fun things with the design of the mug. For example, you could put a picture of a bone or the paw print of the dog on the mug. You could also put the name of their dog on one side of the mug and their favorite quote on the other. Personalized coffee mugs are a fun, inexpensive gift idea that will be loved by the dog lover in your life.

4. Conclusion.

Coffee mugs make great gifts for any occasion. If you're looking for a unique gift for a dog lover, consider making a personalized coffee mug for them. This gift is perfect for anyone who enjoys coffee or tea and loves their dog. You can personalize the mug with the dog's name, breed, and even their favorite photo. You can also add a message that they can read before their coffee or tea.

#coffeetumblers #best coffee travel mug #coffe tumbler

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vivwritesfics · 10 months ago

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Hooked On A Feeling

Chapter Nine - Flying

Daniel is a Formula One driver, but, more importantly, he was a single dad to a wonderful little girl. He wants her to be a normal little girl, to have a normal social life, so he sends her to daycare. That was where she met Milo, her future best friend.

Milo's mother was incredibly stressed. She worked so hard to provide a good life for her son. But then he makes a new friend, a friend who has a hot dad (ofc they fall in love)

1.3K

Single Dad!Daniel x Single Mum!Reader

Series Masterlist

Y/N and Milo arrived at Daniel's house in the early hours of the morning. She had a small suitcase, lightly packed with her clothes, and an even smaller one for Milo.

Milo wore the AlphaTauri hat as they waited outside of the house. He was jumping on the spot, one hand held in his mothers and the other holding his small suitcase. "Momma, I can't wait!" He cheered and Y/N squeezed his hands.

It was a hard decision. Y/N hadn't agreed to this while completely sober. But Y/N spoke to her boss about taking a few vacation days and left everything for Daniel to organise (per his request).

It was the Miami Grand Prix. Daniel had spoken to somebody to get Y/N a pass and somewhere for her and Milo to sleep. She hadn't told anybody that they were coming with him; it was going to be a surprise.

Dressed comfortably for travelling, Daniel pulled open the door. This time he wasn't wearing a cap, and Y/N could see his curls. His lovely curls. "Hi Milo," he said and held out his fist.

Milo bumped his fist against his as he walked past him, into the house. "Olivia's in her bedroom!" Daniel called after him. Milo dropped his hold of his bag and started up the stairs, heading towards Olivia's bedroom.

Y/N followed Milo inside. "Hey," she said and greeted Daniel with a hug. "Are we heading off soon?"

"Just having a coffee and then yeah," he said and pushed the door shut behind her.

She left her suitcase by the door (dragging Milo's back over to hers) and followed Daniel into the kitchen. He used his coffee machine to make Y/N a drink and leaned against the island as they drank. "Thank you so much for this," she said as she held the mug in both hands. "Milo is so excited that he might literally explode."

Daniel smiled. That was why he was doing this, because Milo would love it. Sure, it was going to be so freaking cool to have Y/N there, but that would have been selfish of him.

They made idle conversation as they drank their coffees. As soon as they were finished, Y/N and Daniel loaded their bags into the car. They went upstairs to grab the kids, Daniel helping Olivia finish with packing her bags as Y/N adjusted Milo's cap on his head and picked him up.

Before they knew it they were on the road, Daniel singing along to his music as Y/N bounced her leg nervously. In the back of the car, Milo and Olivia watched a movie on an iPad.

Y/N knew Daniel was rich. She knew he was famous, too, had seen the crowds at the race that she'd watched on the television. But she'd never expected him to be private jet rich and famous.

It wasn't his private jet, instead one he rented from a company. But he didn't fail to inform her that his friend Max had his own.

It was Milo's first time flying, and he was terrified. Olivia had been telling him all about take off, and that was enough to have him crawling into his mothers lap the moment they were sat on the plane.

"Oh Munchkin," she whispered as she smoothed down his hair. She would have gone to get his favourite teddy bear for him, to try and comfort him, but the bear was stuff down into the deep recesses of her bag, inaccessible for the time being. "It's okay. Momma's got you."

Olivia had been flying for her entire life. She was used to it; it no longer phased her. For this flight, she'd been looking forward to sitting beside her best friend, watching movies with him as they took off across the world. But she couldn't do that for the time being, so she sat in her fathers lap, holding onto Snuffles, her bunny teddy.

As they got onto the runway, and Milo was in near hysterics, Daniel whispered something in Olivia's ear. "But daddy," she mumbled and Daniel held his finger to his lip. Olivia let out a little huff and adjusted how she was sitting to be facing Milo.

She leaned over and tapped on his shoulder. Milo didn't pull his face away from his mothers shoulder, but he turned to face her, ears staining his cheeks. "Here," Olivia said, handing Snuffles to him.

Hesitantly, Milo reached for Snuffles. He took him from Olivia and pulled him into his chest. "What do we say, Milo?" Y/N asked gently.

"Thank you," Milo whispered, squeezing Snuffles even tighter.

They took off and Milo continued to cry, but he kept squeezing Snuffles. Before he knew it they were in the air, flying smoothly. Milo pulled away from his mother and Olivia hopped out of her fathers lap. They found their own seats and Daniel brought over Olivia's iPad for the two of them to watch a movie.

"I can't believe Milo's never flown before," Daniel said to Y/N as they sipped their drinks.

Y/N looked past him, her guilty face turned towards the window of the sleek private plane. "Yeah? Well, we've never been able to afford it before. But that was really kind of Olivia to give up her teddy."

Daniel smiled at that. His little girl really was special. "Now, you've got this entire journal to tell me everything about Formula One," she said as she leaned back in her seat.

It was a challenge, one Daniel happily took on. He didn't explain everything, of course - there wasn't enough time for that. He told her as much as she could, and only as much as she needed to know.

"Make sure you're rooting for the number three car, because that's me," he said.

She knew that one, knew she was supposed to be rooting for Daniels car.

"It's a street circuit," he explained. "Which means it uses public roads. But this one is a little different. It is a street circuit, but it uses roads from around the stadium in Miami. I'll take you and Milo to a real street circuit one day," he said, but that last part was rather quiet.

"Okay so I know about the track, I know what the teams are, kind of, and I know who to root for. Who are Milo and I not supposed to root for?" She asked, stretching her legs out in front of her.

"Everybody else," Daniel answered, but he had an inflection to his voice, signalling it was a joke.

Y/N just laughed along with him. He launched into telling her all about the Grand Prix that the USA hosted, from the Miami Grand Prix, to the Vegas Grand Prix and the Circuit of the Americas. "That's my favourite of them all," he said. "I have a house out there, but I haven't been in a while," he explained. "It's hard when Olivia's mother refuses to let me have more than a week with her."

"Hang on," Y/N began. "How many houses do you have?"

Daniel launched into another explanation. And then he promised to take her to his place in Monaco at some point.

"That would be lovely," she said as she sipped her drink.

She looked past him again, looking towards the window. Around them was clouds, but they were beautiful. Y/N couldn't stop herself from getting out of her chair and walking over to the window, getting onto her knees to look out of it.

"Here," Daniel said as he scooted over in his seat, leaving a space for her.

Y/N gladly took the seat. She was half on the seat and half on his lap, but neither of them seemed to mind. Daniel had his arm wrapped around her, but only because that was the most comfortable way for him to sit.

"Thank you for this," she muttered once again as she leaned back, resting against his shoulder.

Taglist (CLOSED): @biancathecool @rewmuslupin @prettiest-at-the-party @hellowgoodbye @cassie0sstuff @spideybv28 @andydrysdalerogers @aundercover @lou-bean28 @landossainz @purplephantomwolf @ggaslyp1 @layazul @phantomxoxo @minkyungseokie @gills-lounge @hollie911 @annispamz @lillians-world-is-f1 @cixrosie @notyouraveragemochii @charli123456789 @amalialeclerc @teamnovalak @tallrock35 @teenwolf01 @chiliwhore @darleneslane @sava207 @thatsusbitch @formulaal @leptitlu @angiesw0rld @yunakynn @landosgirlxoxo @msolbesg @cherry-piee @catmouseggy @bathedinheat @chanshintien @ilove-tswizzle @woozarts @evie-119 @trouble-sistar @mysticalnightenthusiast @lewisvinga @spilled-coffee-cup @starkeyellow @fxrmuladaydreams @viennakarma @radiator101 @lightdragonrayne @angelxxrose @millinorrizz @xemiefx @ellies-world61 @the-depressed-fellow

#daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo smut #daniel ricciardo x reader smut #daniel ricciardo fluff #daniel ricciardo x you #f1 #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula one #formula one imagine #formula one x reader #formula 1 #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #dr3 #dr3 imagine #dr3 x reader

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gguk-n · 2 months ago

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Chapter 3- Heartfelt confession

Accelerating Emotions (Oscar Piastri x Reader)

Series Masterlist

Summary- Oscar decides he wants to spend time with Y/N. The more time he spends, the more his feelings solidify. He likes her a lot. He just hopes she likes him too.

Lando was the happiest person when summer break began since he would no longer have to hear his teammate pine over his best friend's sister. Oscar was a quite and stoic man and nothing could elicit a response from him except Y/N. Even the thought of her getting hurt would make Oscar worry to no end; so he would resort to stealthy pestering Ansel while away for races on what was going on with his sister who honestly was of no help since he lived in another city. So, Oscar now depended on his mother and he would be lucky to catch glimpses of Y/N behind his mom on rare occasions. Nicole was happy her son was calling way more often then usual and she wasn't about to complain. Oscar had ulterior motives and would ask about everyone in hopes of finding out what Y/N was up too. He was sure his sisters could take care of themselves.

Summer break couldn't come any sooner for Oscar either. Oscar was back in Australia enjoying the cooler weather especially after he found out Y/N would also have July off from school when he over heard his mother talking to Y/N about her plans for July. Even Oscar wasn't sure if he ever booked plane tickets any faster than he did in that moment. Oscar decided to 'surprise' his family or another way to talk to Y/N. He texted her asking her to pick her up from the airport since he wanted to surprise everyone. That's how Y/N found herself awake at the crack ass of dawn since Oscar doesn't seem to understand timezones or so it seems and was landing in Melbourne at 5 am. Y/N would rather be asleep on the rare few days she got off from school without having to plan for the next year or make up a teaching plan for the next week. But here she was driving to the airport with the largest coffee mug she could find and a hoodie with Oscar's number on it. It was the warmest hoodie she owned and she had forgotten it was Oscar merchandise that she had stolen from her sibling.

Oscar was stood at the airport arrival terminal when Y/N drove her car to him. She rolled the window down, "You should be grateful I've known you for years because I was ready to leave you stranded at the airport when my alarm rang" she called out and popped her trunk open. Oscar placed his bags in and climbed into the passenger seat. "Thanks for picking me up" Oscar said. "I love you guys too much to explain to Nicole how I lost her son" Y/N replied after taking a sip of her once hot coffee. Oscar didn't really hear anything after 'i love you' honestly you wouldn't either if your crush directed those 3 words at you in any context. He gathered himself, "Take me to your place" Oscar asked rather commanded but who's asking. "What? Why?" Y/N asked now fully looking at Oscar who's eyes had travelled down to the hoodie Y/N was wearing and you could clearly see OP81 plastered all over it if you looked carefully enough since the hoodie looked like it was Y/N's favourite in her collection of clothes. "You're wearing my hoodie" Oscar pointed out. "What? This is my hoodie" she corrected. "It has my name and number on it" he corrected. And for the first time since she woke up she looked at herself and realised that she left the house in the hoodie she slept in which just happened to be Oscar's merchandise. "You support my merchandise" Oscar gleamed. "Ansel bought it, I stole it from him" she commented. Nothing was dimming Oscar's shine. He was just winning, in his eyes, since he landed.

"Why do you wanna come to my place?" she asked getting back to the topic. "I'm planning a surprise and I need to look prepared for it" he said while stealing glances at Y/N in his hoodie. "Since when do you plan surprises?" she asked. Oscar just shrugged and they drove to her apartment. Y/N helped Oscar grab his stuff from the trunk and brought him to her flat. The house was a mess but Oscar had seen worse. "There's coffee in the kitchen. The bathroom's that way. The guest bedroom is to your left. If you need anything, I'll be asleep in my room that's in front of you." she pointed around. "Are you going back to sleep?" Oscar asked with his puppy eyes. "I was going too, but you look like you want something. So spill" she stated. "Can we have breakfast together? I miss your pancakes, like the Japanese style one's you tried to make" Oscar pouted. "Those abominations can't be called pancakes. Now, I do make a really good pancake. So, for the flattery I will fulfill your wish" she offered.

Oscar got changed from the jeans he was wearing to a sweatshirt and joggers. Y/N had ditched the OP81 hoodie much to Oscar's dismay to wear another sweatshirt and joggers. He was hovering around her as she tried to make the pancakes, making her snap. "Okay, Osc, sweetheart, can you stop moving around so much. I can't work when people are in my space." she reprimanded him in the nicest way possible. Oscar took his place on the breakfast bar like a child that had been told off. Y/N served the pancakes with fresh fruits and maple syrup. "I didn't think those pancakes could get any better" Oscar moaned after taking one bite. Y/N smiled at him, "You flatter me" she smiled back. "Can you help me decide how to surprise my family?" Oscar asked. "I knew those weren't empty praises" she laughed.

Y/N was sat thinking while munching on her pancakes all the while Oscar would steal glances at her. "You should turn up to the house with flowers. I think they would like that" Y/N said after much deliberation on her part. "That doesn't sound grand" Oscar pointed out. "They are your family. IDK how to make it grand" she retorted. "Maybe you should take your time. It's like you want to get rid of me as soon as possible" Oscar pouted. This boy needs to stop pouting because for some reason his puppy eyes are working on her and she doesn't know how to get out of here, she thought. "Oscar, baby, I have holidays for the next few days before school and I would like to do stuff I can't when I'm busy" she said. Oscar lost his train of thought when she called him baby. "We can do stuff together" Oscar stammered, "As a thank you for helping me surprise my family" he finished. Y/N wasn't winning today, or ever again with Oscar for that matter. "Please" Oscar begged now holding on to both of her hands. Y/N for the first time since he became friend's with her brother looked at him, like really looked at him, his chocolate brown eyes or his cute little freckles that littered his face or the moles that were splattered across his face and neck; this stay wasn't going to end well for her she thought. She couldn't think straight when his warm hands were holding her's like they were the most fragile thing. She just nodded to him, pulling her hands away with a slight blush that was starting to form on her cheeks to put the dishes away.

Y/N and Oscar were sat on the sofa while Y/N was flipping through movies to watch on Netflix. "I thought you were sleepy" Oscar voiced. "I'm not anymore, someone wanted to have pancakes" she chided. Oscar just smiled and he looked like the cutest cat making her smile. She realised what she was doing so she quickly handed the remote to Oscar, "Watch whatever you want, I'm gonna get some stuff done around the house" she said walking to her room. Oscar switched the TV off and followed her into her room. "I can help" he offered, making Y/N jump. "Oscar, you scared me" she said. "Sorry" he apologised with a small smile. "You should get some sleep, you must be jet lagged. I'll wake you up for lunch" she said now pushing Oscar towards the guest room. "Try to get some sleep" she reiterated, closing the door behind her. That's how Oscar found himself lying on the bed while staring at the ceiling, imagining what it would be like to enjoy domestic bliss with her.

At some point in his daydreaming, Oscar fell asleep and only woke up at around 5 pm. He stumbled out of the room to a much cleaner flat and Y/N making dinner. "You're up" she said. "You didn't wake me up" he asked. "You looked so cute sleeping, I couldn't" she cooed. She thought I was cute, Oscar thought. "Cute in a OMG!! baby is cute way or cute in a damn that boy cute way" he asked. "Who's teaching you this stuff?" she laughed. Oscar just shrugged; "Obviously, OMG!! baby is cute way" she laughed. Oscar's shoulders seem to fall. "Dinner's almost done" she said getting ready to serve the food. Y/N and Oscar sat on the table with their plate of food. Oscar was playing around with his food; "Is it not good?" she asked. "No, no it's delicious." he replied. "But you haven't touched your plate" she pointed out. "I...do you still see me as the kid that your brother befriended?" Oscar mumbled. "Oscar, you are the kid my brother befriended" she highlighted. "But, do you see me as you know, someone who is older and more mature?" he questioned. "You are older now Oscar, and more mature too. You drive a Formula One car now, you have a life and career and we are all so proud of you." she said. Oscar hummed, "Are you proud of me?" he asked. "So proud. If you are worried about the season, it's your first season. You'll get better with time. The cars getting used to you, you're getting used to it. I'm sure next year will be the best ever. Mark my words" she reassured. Y/N thought Oscar was having anxiety with his career when he asked her that, but that was far from the truth.

"I know how to surprise everyone" she announced after dinner. "How?" Oscar asked. "We could throw a party at my place and then invite everyone. I think Ansel's visiting soon too. And surprise, you're here." she explained. "When will we do that?" Oscar asked. "Ansel is coming in 2 days, on Friday night we can have everyone come in. I'll send out the invites and you can greet everyone once they come in. I think they'll love it" she elaborated further. Oscar liked that he could stay here for a couple more days. "You're gonna have to help me" she said. "I will" Oscar agreed.

The next few days were spent cleaning the place, planning a menu out for the dinner, wrapping up the presents Oscar got everyone. They sent out the invites and everyone agreed to meet her at 7 pm on Friday. The two of them spent all of Friday decorating the place. You would find the two laughing along or having fun through out the whole planning. Oscar hoped that she would see him as more than just a kid. The time they spent together was precious for Oscar. He had bought her a necklace which he asked her to wear on Friday. "Oscar, this is beautiful. But it must be expensive" she said handing it back. "You should wear it today" he said placing it in her hands once again. "I can't take this. It looks so expensive" she mentioned admiring the necklace. "Please, it took me forever to pick out" Oscar begged. Y/N conceded.

They got dressed for the party. Y/N was wearing a navy blue midi dress, to highlight the necklace. She was struggling to zip up her dress which Oscar saw when he came to check up on Y/N. He quietly walked in and zipped up the dress; "Let me" he said. "Thanks" she whispered, her breath stuck in her throat as she felt his finger hover over her lower back. Before she could take the necklace out of the box, Oscar beat her to it, moving her hair aside, his fingers brushed past the small exposed area on her neck, bringing the necklace around and hooking it up. "Done" he mentioned. Y/N was looking at herself in the mirror with Oscar standing behind her, a small smile on his face. She turned around, "how does it look?" she asked. "Gorgeous" Oscar replied. Y/N was blushing and for the first time Oscar saw it. He felt his chest swell up at the thought of making her blush.

Everyone showed up almost at the same time, Oscar was waiting for everyone in the living room. The house was a bit cramped with everyone present but the laughter that could be heard echoing through the house was well worth it. Nicole almost cried when she saw her son and Chris gave him the biggest hug. Both of Y/N's parents hugged and greeted Oscar like their own son was visiting. Oscar brought out all the presents he had bought and you could hear everyone chatting away about the presents while Ansel and Oscar stood a little further away from the group; "You didn't even tell me" Ansel said skeptically. "It was supposed to be a surprise" Oscar reasoned. "Sure" Ansel replied sounding not so sure of Oscar's answer. "Don't you like the present I got you" Oscar quizzed. "Yeah yeah, I know you're trying to bribe me. Just don't take too long." Ansel said. "What do you mean by that?" Oscar asked and Ansel just shrugged his shoulders while walking away to help his sister set up the dinner.

Everyone had taken a plate and were sat where ever they could find a place. Y/N was playing with her necklace every chance she got; "Where did you get the necklace from? It is beautiful" Y/N's mother asked her. "You should ask Oscar, he got it for me" she replied after quickly swallowing the food in her mouth. "Now did he" Oscar's mother asked looking at him. "I just saw it while passing and got it" Oscar dismissed everyone. Lando will tell you, and I quote, "He sent me links to multiple luxury brand's necklaces which he vetoed within minutes of staring at them since they weren't good enough for his Y/N. Then he started dragging me around to a new shop in every city we visited and made the employee of the shop show him their entire inventory. It took him months to decide on the damn necklace. I thought I would have to get some one to craft him one" end quote. But Lando wasn't here and no one was about to know.

Oscar offered to stay back after the party even though Y/N insisted that he leave with his family. "I'm the one that wanted to surprise them. I should help you clean up." he stated. "The party was my idea" she retorted. "Let him help you Y/N. Come home early tomorrow Oscar" his father called out as everyone filed out. "Good luck" Ansel and Aldric called out simultaneously as they bid them good bye.

The house wasn't as destroyed and they were done with cleaning the place up in a few hours. It was almost 2 AM when Oscar finally sat, sprawled out on the sofa. Y/N was putting the last of the dishes away. She walked towards the sofa when her toe got caught on the mat on the floor and she extended her arms to brace herself from the fall. Oscar with his quick reflexes caught hold of her extended arms, stopping her mid-way. "You haven't outgrown your clumsiness" Oscar stated, his face inches away from hers. "I have" she whispered. "What would you do if I wasn't there to save you?" Oscar asked now pushing her back on her feet and placing her arms on her side. "I'm perfectly capable of saving myself" she retorted. "Never said you weren't. But I wouldn't mind being there for you" he retorted back. "Why would you be there for me?" she asked. "Because I like you" he said. There he said it, the words that he wanted to say for years. "Oscar" she began, this didn't sound good to Oscar. "You're my brother's best friend. I can't" she began. "But you would if I wasn't" he interrupted. "No, I wouldn't. You're younger than me" she said. "By a year, it doesn't even matter honestly" Oscar reasoned. "You probably feel this way since we've been spending a lot of time together lately" she said. "I've felt this way for years. Don't demean my feelings for you, Y/N. Do you know what you do to me?" he asked. "Oscar, you're ugh...you're you and it would never work out" she said. "You've thought about me" Oscar asked hopefully. "That's not the point" she said. "It is" Oscar pointed out. "I like you Y/N, I have for as long as I've known you. This isn't some silly crush I had when I was 12 or because of the close proximity. You make my heart beat fast and my tongue doesn't know how to speak around you. I've repressed my feelings for you for far too long. I just don't know if I've ever felt this way about anyone." Oscar said. "Oscar, you're" she began but was cut off; "I'm not acting impulsively. Take your time. I'm here for a couple more weeks. I'll leave tomorrow morning but I'll be at my house. Just think about it. Think about us, think about me. For Once" Oscar begged walking towards the guest room. While Y/N was stood there shocked, in her living room.

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likirahub99outfitstees · 8 months ago

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Bonjour Skyline Marathon Paris Crewneck Sweatshirts, Pillows, Kids Hoodies, Travel Mugs, Baby Bodysuits, Magnets, Long Sleeve T-Shirt, Posters, Tapestries, T-shirts, iPhone Cases, and Many More visit the shop now.

Make yourself happy by visiting the store and shopping at - likirahub99

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munson-blurbs · 1 year ago

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Escaped Convict!Eddie Munson x Innocent!Reader

Summary: a peaceful morning of reading and coffee is interrupted when you stumble upon convicted murderer and prison escapee Eddie Munson, and your kindness towards him does not go unrewarded.

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI!), unprotected p in v (wrap it up), oral (f! receiving), fingering, corruption kink, 'sir' kink, spitting, biting, mention of blood, mention of assault/murder

WC: 2.6k

A/N: in this fic, "innocent" refers to some sexual inexperience. Eddie and Reader are both in their mid-20s and neither are portrayed as childlike.

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At first, you don’t think anything of the slight rustling noise coming from the trees. It’s been a windy morning, the leaves swaying in the breeze since you’d first sat down at your favorite picnic bench, book in one hand and travel mug full of coffee in the other.

Now, you’re several chapters in, coffee long gone, the air warming as the sun reaches its peak in the sky. It’s almost time for you to head back home and get some lunch, and you begrudgingly tuck a bookmark into your tattered copy of To Kill a Mockingbird.

You hear the noise again; this time, it’s not accompanied with a gust of wind, and it draws your attention to an overgrown shrub in the near distance. Curiosity gets the best of you as you peer over it, but nothing could have prepared you for what you find.

One hand shoots out from behind the bush, yanking your wrist and pulling you down. Your jean-clad knees scrape against the cold ground, grass stains seeping into the fabric. A terrified squeal remains trapped in your throat, but you’ve gone completely silent in horror. Before you can process what’s happening, you feel a palm against your mouth.

“Don’t move,” a voice growls, low and slow against the shell of your ear. You keep your eyes staring straight ahead, unwilling to make contact with your captor. “You work with the cops? Hmm?” When you shake your head, his grip loosens slightly. Maybe it’s also because he can feel you trembling within his grasp, not even contemplating fighting back. “If I let you go, you promise you won’t tell a soul?”

You nod against his hand, taking a gasping breath when he hesitantly breaks contact, still unsure about trusting you. You try to scramble to your feet, but your body betrays you; every bone is gelatinous. Falling back with a pathetic whine, the adrenaline fades and the emotions it had been staving off comes flooding in. Tears fall from your eyes, hot as they slide down your cheeks in heaving sobs. The man swears under his breath, evidently distressed that you’ll give away his hiding spot with your crying.

“‘M sorry, ‘m sorry,” you apologize weakly, wiping at your face haphazardly and trying once again to stand. You’re successful this time, but before you can run away, you get a glimpse of him.

He’s absolutely filthy; a mixture of blood and dirt covers his hands and bare feet. A formerly starch-white undershirt is caked in the same grime, bright orange jumpsuit tied around his waist. His hair is matted in several places, though you can see a semblance of curls amongst the knots. And the expression on his face is not one of anger or violence, but of fear. The same fear that wraps around you like a boa constrictor, squeezing and choking until there’s nothing left to feel.

It’s his eyes, the deep brown windows to his soul, that give away his identity. And though his current get-up is a stark contrast from the ill-fitted suit he’d worn to his televised court appearances, you know who he is.

Eddie Munson: murderer, prisoner, and now, escapee.

Your own eyes widen, and you take a staggering step back. You’d seen on the news that he’d broken out of Indiana State prison three days ago, but you’d never imagined that you would be the one to find him.

“What the fuck are you waiting for?” he snarls, snapping you from your stupor. “Just go!” He scoffs disbelievingly, not understanding why you haven’t taken off bolting back through the forest.

To be honest, you’re also unsure why you remain in place. You’d followed Eddie’s case since the moment it had first broken: a man leaving a bar in the strange hours that are past the night but not quite morning, plans of trekking home derailed by the sound of a woman’s frantic scream. Without thinking, Eddie ran towards it, fingers digging into a man’s throat to pull him off of her. He could have stopped there, the jury argued; he should have stopped there, but he didn’t. His fist connected with the offender’s cheek, delivering one punch after the other until his own fists were battered and bloodied.

Eddie might have been hailed a hero if the perpetrator hadn’t been Jason Carver: All-American basketball player, a senator’s son, and most importantly, a man whose family had access to the best lawyers money could buy. The court overlooked Eddie’s act of courage in favor of the murder he’d committed and sentenced him to twenty years behind bars.

Was he innocent? Technically, no. But he also wasn’t the cold-blooded killer the media portrayed him to be.

You extend your hand, wincing at the way it shakes in front of you. “Let me help you, Eddie.” He flinches at his name, pulling back from you. “I…I can hide you, if you want.”

“Wh…what?” There’s no way he heard you correctly. You, the young woman in the soft sweater and frightened but kind eyes, just willingly offered to harbor a fugitive? “I’m not gonna hurt you,” he says gently, pinning his hopes on you recognizing his authenticity, “you don’t have to do anything for me.”

“I know.” You keep your hand out, biting your lower lip with so much force that you could draw blood. “I want to.”

With a plethora of reservations, he accepts your proposal as you discreetly lead him to your car. You naively expect him to sit next to you, but he opts to lay down in the backseat where nosy drivers are less likely to spot him. He pulls his knees to his chest, hugging them tight to shrink himself even further.

“If we get caught,” he whispers as you turn the key in the ignition, “tell them I made you do this, okay? Promise me.”

“Y-Yes. I promise.”

At your apartment, you point Eddie in the direction of the shower while you start on lunch. There isn’t much to choose from, but you crack open a can of Campbell’s tomato soup and make three grilled cheese sandwiches: two for him, one for you. You pour the soup into two bowls just as you hear the water turn off.

“Um, Sweetheart?” The nickname sets off a flurry of butterflies in your abdomen. “Do you have anything for me to wear?” He steps out of the bathroom, just a towel slung low on his waist. Droplets fall from his hair down his chest, blurring the lines of his tattoos. A dusting of brown hair trails from his navel and disappears below the towel. “I could put my own stuff back on, I guess, if you don’t.”

You will yourself to look away from the living, breathing artwork standing before you. “Y-Yeah, give me a sec.” Your arm grazes his torso as you walk past him towards your room, goosebumps appearing on your skin, and not just from the cooling water. Digging through your drawers, you manage to find a pair of sweatpants and an old t-shirt that your ex-boyfriend had left behind, never bothering to return to collect it. “Here,” you say; he doesn’t question why you have men’s clothes at the ready, just takes them gratefully and pads back into the bathroom to change.

You’re left breathless again when he walks out again, fully clothed. His biceps strain against the cotton material, filling it out better than your ex ever could. And his lack of underwear is evident, the outline just visible through his sweats.

He’s gorgeous.

Eddie devours the food like it’s a delicacy, rather than canned soup and some Kraft slices on Wonder Bread. Perhaps, after years in prison and an undisclosed amount of days on the run, it is. He brushes the crumbs from his hands into his empty bowl and leans back with a small stretch. “Thank you,” he mumbles with a small smile, leaning over to take your own used utensils. “I’ll wash these. ‘S the least I can do.”

You nod, not wanting to protest and risk making him feel like he’s a burden. “How long can you stay?” you ask softly, nervously picking at your fingernails. “I mean, you’re welcome to stay as long as you need, but I know you probably shouldn’t stick around in one place for long…” You feel silly saying it, like you have any idea of what the protocol is for running away from prison.

“Not long,” Eddie admits, wiping the sponge over a spoon before rinsing it and placing it in the dishrack. “Probably should head back out as soon as it gets dark again. But, really, I can’t thank you enough. The warm shower, the food, the clean clothes…just wish I could repay you somehow.”

You don’t miss the way his eyes flick across your body, soaking in the sight of you. The ache between your legs pulses now, desperate for him to fill the space. You’ve only ever slept with people you’ve been in relationships with; certainly never with escaped convicts who you’d found hiding in the woods.

“What…what did you have in mind?” Your voice is small, barely above a whisper as you stand up and walk towards him.

“Don’t…don’t do this,” he hisses, raking his fingers through his hair. “Please. It’s been fuckin’ forever, I can’t…” He bites the inside of his cheek and shakes his head. “I haven’t touched someone like I want to touch you in so fucking long, sweet girl.”

“You want to touch me?” You’re shocked at his candor, the way he readily confesses his needs. “W-Where?”

Eddie exhales, gliding his forefinger down your cheek. “Everywhere. I can’t get enough of you. Pretty little bookworm just begging to be corrupted, yeah?”

“Mhm,” you squeak, letting your palm fall to his bicep.

“Need to hear you say it,” Eddie urges, for your sake and his. His breath tickles below your ear. “Say it for me, sweet girl.”

“Corrupt me, Eddie.”

His hands are on you in an instant, pinning you against the countertop. Your lips find each other with the force of magnets, a clashing of teeth and tongues more fervent than you’ve ever experienced. He hoists you on top of it, tugging on your jeans and panties until they’re on the ground.

“‘M gonna taste you. See if you’re as sweet as you look,” he murmurs, crouching so he’s got a perfect view of your glistening folds. Broad arms wrap around your thighs to pull you close and he dives in, nose nudging your clit as his tongue broaches your hole. Your toes instinctively curl, back arching as he feeds off of your pleasure and gradually quickens his pace. One thick finger slides inside you, making you moan. “Goddamn, even your sounds are sweet.” He continues licking and sucking, adding another finger as you get wetter. “‘M sorry, I wanna keep eating you out, but I gotta…” His lips latch onto one nipple, giving it the tiniest bite that draws a whimper from you.

You’re surprised to find that you’re enjoying the pinch of pain, lacing your fingers through his curls and holding his face to your chest. You allow your senses to be overwhelmed, drowning them in the sensation of his mouth on your upper body and his fingers within you.

You rock yourself into him, desperately chasing the release that he’s inching you towards. It allows him even deeper, impossibly so, and you tighten around him.

Eddie lets go of your breast, focusing all of his attention on your pussy. His fingers plunge in and out as he looks deep into your eyes, not daring to break any contact. “Thassit, sweet girl,” he says in a cross between a hiss and a coo, “come f’me.”

And you do, relinquishing whatever semblance of control you’d tried to hold on to. You soak his fingers with a cry of his name. There’s no mistaking the proud grin that sweeps over his face, knowing that he was the one bringing you this pleasure. “You’re ready for my cock now, aren’t you?” He laughs when you nod, helping you off of the countertop. He tugs his pants down, exposing his hard length. He’s big, already leaking pre-cum, and you’re salivating at the anticipation of him stretching you delectably. “Bend over for me, honey. You’re gonna take it from behind today.”

“Yes, sir.” You turn around, bracing your forearms on the Formica while he delivers a harsh slap to your ass.

“Fuck, say that again.”

“Yes, sir. Whatever you want, sir.”

He groans, throwing his head back as he runs his tip along your folds. “Such a good girl, knowing her place. Gonna take whatever I give you, s’fucking good for me.” He pushes inside you, little by little until he bottoms out. “So warm, so wet, holy shit.” Calloused palms grip your hips as he thrusts into you. “Take it, sweet girl. Mmm, jus’ like that.” Each snap of his hips is punctuated with a wanton groan. “I’ve barely fucked you and you’re already cock drunk. No one ever fucked you this good, huh?”

“N-No, never. Only you, Eddie.”

You feel your chin being pulled so your head faces sideways, his thumb ghosting over your kiss-swollen lips. “Open wide, pretty little thing.” You do as he orders, his saliva coating your tongue as he spits into your mouth. “Mine,” he declares possessively, eyes widening as you swallow what he’s given you without even being asked.

He pushes down on your back, your breasts pressed against the counter while he thrusts faster and faster, no longer concerned about holding back. “‘M gonna come on your ass.” He squeezes there, turning himself on further just having your supple skin in his grasp.

And because you know how wild it drives him, you consent with a, “yes, sir.”

Eddie pulls out just in time, his hot spend spilling out of him and onto your flesh. You wish you could see the way he’s adorned you, but you’ll have to settle for the feeling of him dripping down your curves. He stands behind you, panting heavily, holding his softening cock in one hand.

“God fuckin’ damn, sweet girl,” he mutters, reaching over you to grab a paper towel. It’s scratchy as he cleans you up, then takes another and wipes the residual cum from his tip. “You really are perfect.”

You face him and gingerly kiss his lips, probably too intimate for the utter filth you’d just engaged in. Still, he returns it, hands roaming your body with intent but no real destination.

“Mind if we get some rest?” he asks, poorly stifling a yawn. “You, uh, kinda wore me out just now.”

You lead him to your bedroom, both of you climbing under the covers wordlessly, heads barely hitting the pillow before you’re each sound asleep.

When you wake up hours later, you’re alone in the dark. At first, you wonder if it’s all been a dream, but when you click on your bedside lamp, there’s a handwritten note hastily scrawled on some scrap paper:

My sweet girl,

I had to go and didn’t want to wake you. I knew that if I did, you’d convince me to stay longer, and I can’t put you in any more danger than I already have.

I hope that fate will allow us to meet again, maybe if I’m ever truly a free man. ’ll be thinking of you until then.

Yours,

Eddie

P.S. burn this note and flush the ashes after reading

You do as he asked, heart sinking as the flames swallow his words. Maybe he’s written the same ones to dozens of different lovers, or maybe you’re the only recipient. It doesn’t matter anymore. All that fills your memory is the way he felt inside you earlier today.

You will it to live there forever.

#eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #fanfic #eddie x you #eddie x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson stranger things #smut

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callsign-dexter · 9 months ago

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Forever Yours 18+

Request: How are we feeling about Tim Bradford meeting his high school girlfriend again as he's on patrol with Lucy and gets all flustered again cause you're the one for him (like you separated ways as he went to the police and you did something else but are back now) and you just feel the same old feelings. Later Lucy won't stop making fun of him cause he's always badass and now you seem to be his weak spot. Next day you visit him at the department with his favorite food and he asks you out on a date which you gladly accept. Just some fluffy cute Tim, with maaaaaybe smut at the end of their date and he won't let her leave him ever again? 😊

Next week is my bday, so I thought some Tim would be adorable !

Pairings: Tim Bradford x Teacher!Reader

Warnings: fluff, smut, swearing, pregnancy

Masterlist

A/N: Happy birthday or belated birthday to the anon that sent this in!

A/N 2: @talesofreading and @imagine-all-the-fandoms some steamy Tim smut for you!

Los Angeles. You never thought you would come back here but after being away for so long you were itching to come back. Most importantly you were missing your high school crush and boyfriend, Tim Bradford. You two only split when he decided to go into the military and you wanted to become a teacher. It was a mutual break up but man did it still hurt. You two had lost contact and both of you had been too busy to try and reconnect with each other but now you were back having gotten your teaching degree and took the position as a first-grade teacher. You loved kids and they seemed to be drawn to you. It was really your true calling.

Last you heard of Tim was that he had gotten out of the military and had gone to the police academy, was married but then got divorced and he was working as a TO for LAPD. You heard all of this through his sister that you were best friends with. You had wanted to get in contact with him but school and kids kept you busy so you just let it go.

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The new school year was just about to start and you were excited. A few weeks before you had gone in and set up the classroom how you wanted and then started to figure out teaching material. A week before school actually starts you would be meeting the students and their parents for the first time. Overall, you were excited and couldn’t wait.

There was one week before school and you had gotten there early to start meeting the students and parents. The time had started and the students and parents started to slowly trickle in. Everyone you met were friendly and some of the dads even tried to flirt with you but you just smiled and continued on. You had your mind on one person and that was Tim Bradford.

It was finally the end of the day and you were exhausted but you had a lot of fun and loved seeing the kids. You made sure everything was in order and everything was cleaned then you were walking you out of the classroom and locking the door behind you. You left the school with a smile on your face. You couldn’t wait for Friday next week.

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Your alarm on Friday went off early and you were getting up with a smile on your face. You turned it off and got in the shower and brushed your teeth. You walked out into your room in just a towel and started to get dressed. As you were doing so your cat, Biscuit, walked in and jumped on the bed and meowed at you, you turned and gave him some love and then you were back to getting ready. When you were done in there you walked out of the bedroom and into the kitchen where your German Shepherd, Steel, greeted you. You gave Steel his food and then fed Biscuit and now you were getting yourself coffee as it was brewing you let Steel out and then when he was done, he was at the door wanting back in. You finished getting ready to leave the house. The coffee chimed when it was done and you grabbed the travel mug and headed out to your blue Toyota Tacoma.

It was a quick drive to the school and you got there with no trouble. As you were driving you looked like Tim but you were too busy paying attention to the road. You pulled into the parking lot and into the parking lot for the teachers. You parked and turned the engine off and then you were getting out and grabbing your bag. As you were walking into the building you greeted some of the other staff who were all so friendly and that made you smile.

You walked to your room and unlocked it and started to get everything ready for the day. About 7:50 AM students started to trickle in and you were at the door greeting everyone. Once everyone was in you closed the door and walked to the front of the classroom smiling and made sure everyone was sitting down. “Good morning, kiddos. My name is Ms. Y/L/N and I’m gonna be your teacher for this year. I’m excited to learn about each and every one of you and I can’t wait for the fun things I have planned for you all. It’s going to be a fun year. Now does anyone have questions for me or about me?” You asked and a few raised their hands. You looked over at them and smiled “Benson, what is your question?” You asked.

“Do you have any animals?” He asked with sweet innocent eyes and you smiled.

“I do, I have a dog named Steel and a cat named Biscuit.” You said

“Do you have pictures?” He asked and you smiled and pulled up a picture of your animals.

The rest of the morning went without a hitch. When they were at lunch you smiled and sat in your room thinking about what the plan was for the second half of the day. You were scrolling through your email and noticed there was going to be a fire drill and that they were going to bring the fire trucks, ambulances, and police in.

All the kids were back and you let them know what was going to be happening and you assured them that there was nothing to be afraid of and it was all a drill. Some still seemed scared so you said that they could come to you if they got too scared and that seemed like that helped ease them up a little bit. For now, the day went like normal and it would be happening close to the end of the day.

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“Did you hear that we have to go to the elementary school for a fire drill?” Lucy said as she and Tim were driving around making calls and making sure everything was good to go.

“Yes, I did.” Tim said, making his response short.

“How do you feel about that?” She asked

“I’m fine with it. It lets kids see the importance of what we do.” He said and she nodded seeing that he wasn’t up for any more discussing it. While they were waiting to be called to the school Tim was thinking about you and where you were. You were his high school love and he never stopped loving you even when he was married, he wanted to get back into contact with you but never seemed able to find the time but boy was he in or a surprise today. The time came and they were heading to the school along with the ambulance, firefighters, and two other shops. The point of this was to first have a fire drill and then show the importance of the first responders. Tim parked next to Talia and Nolan’s car and they headed over to the kids. Everyone was answering questions and then something, more like someone, caught Tim’s eye. He looked closer and it was you. You were bent down talking to a kid who was crying and you were trying to console them but it wasn’t working and so you picked the kid up and let them cry into your neck. He needed to see you and talk to you. “I’ll be right back.” He told Lucy and then was gone before she could say anything.

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“Hey, shhhhhh. You’re ok.” You said consoling the little boy. You were bouncing them around trying to soothe him. You didn’t even know Tim was walking up to you. “It’s nothing to be scared about. It just means that it helps on the way and they save people.” You said and he came out from your neck and sniffled.

“Really?” He asked and you smiled and were about to answer but a familiar male voice answered before for you.

“Absolutely. It means that we are on our way to save you.” Tim said and you looked up and saw him and the little boy looked at him.

“Really?” He asked and Tim smiled.

“Yup, my fellow officer John Nolan will be happy to show you and talk to you about it.” He said and then pointed over to him “He is right over there.” Tim said and the boy sniffled and nodded and you sat him down and watched him scamper off to John. Making sure he was safe before turning to Tim smiling. “You've always been so good with kids.” He said and you chuckled.

“You have too. One of the many reasons I fell in love with you.” You said and he smiled and looked down.

“It's been a while.” He said looking up at you and you nodded agreeing.

“Too long and that is my fault.” You said and his smile turned into a frown and he shook his head.

“No. That is not true. I'm the one that took off and didn't even try to contact.” He said and you shook your head.

“I'm to blame too.” You said and once again he was denying it.

“We can discuss this over dinner.” He said and you looked at him.

“Like a date?” You asked

“Exactly like that. My number is the same if you wanted to text me anytime.” He said and you smiled and nodded.

“Mine is too.” You said

“Ms. Y/L/N! She hit me!” Your student, Amber, said pointing to another student, Emma, as they ran up to you. You looked at Tim and he smiled and nodded. You bent down to the two girls. You walked back over to Lucy and the others watching you handle the situation with a smile. All he could think about was how you would deal with your and his kids and that put a smile on his face.

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Tim walked back over to the group smiling. “Is The Tim Bradford actually smiling?” Lucy asked and everyone turned to see and he actually started to blush.

“He's blushing!” Angela said with a smile.

“I am not.” He said and tried to stop but he just saw the love of his life again.

“You so are! Is it because of that teacher you were flirting with?” Lucy asked and he didn't say anything and then the radio saved him and then he was quick to answer it.

“Come on Boot. We have work to do.” Tim said and walked over to his shop and she quickly followed behind him. When they got back to the shop his phone dinged and he was quick to pull it out and smiled when he saw it was you. Lucy took notice of this and she smirked.

“Is that her?” Lucy asked and Tim was quick to drop the smile and look at her.

“It’s none of your business.” He said and she rolled her eyes but smirked when she looked away, he was smiling and was quick to send a reply back and it was back to work for the both of you.

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You and Tim had been talking all week and the same old feelings were coming back. Saturday rolled around and you found out he was working and you decided to bring him and his coworkers. You loved baking and Tim knew this. You parked in a parking spot and then walked into the police station smiling. You greeted the front desk person and they smiled. “What can I do for you?” She asked.

“I’m here to see Tim Bradford.” You said and she smiled and then she paged him and he was coming down in time.

“Y/N, what are you doing here?” He asked and you smiled and turned to him.

“Well, you mentioned you were working today and thought you and your coworkers could use some baked goods.” You said and he smiled.

“Come on.” He said and you walked with him into where everyone was. It looked like they were just in for lunch. “Guys, this is Y/N. Y/N this is Angela, Talia, Lucy, Jackson, and Nolan.” He said and everyone waved as they were introduced.

“Nice to meet you all.” You said “I figured you all could use some goodies.” You said you waved your basket.

“Her cookies are to die for. They are my favorite” Tim said as you set the basket down in the break room. Tim wasn’t looking at anyone but you, everyone was smiling and looking at how lovesick he was and they were happy for him. Everyone got a cookie and they absolutely fell in love with them and they voiced this and that made you smile. “Hey, would you follow me?” He asked you and you nodded and he took your hand and led you to the briefing room.

“What’s up?” You asked as you sat on the edge of one of the tables.

“Will you go on a date with me?” He asked and you smiled and nodded.

“I would love to go on a date with you.” You said and that made him smile.

“Great! I’ll pick you up at 7 tonight?” He asked and you once again smiled.

“That sounds perfect.” You said and then you both continued to talk until he had to leave and that was cue now you had to go home and get ready for your date.

7 PM rolled around quickly and before you knew it you were opening the door to a smiling and well-dressed Timothy Bradford. “Wow.” He said and you blushed but Steel was quick to rush the door.

“Steel, off.” You said and he backed up and moved away from the door and that made Tim fall in love with you even more. You made sure to grab your keys, locking the door behind you, and the both of you headed to his truck where he helped you in and then closed the door and walked to the other side and got in and headed to the restaurant that he had picked out that he knew you would love. “So where are we going?” You asked and he smiled.

“It's a surprise but you’re going to love it. They have sushi.” He said when he looked over and saw you were about to say something and then your smile came back. “I’ve missed you. I’m sorry that I didn’t stay in contact.” He said and you shook your head.

“Nonsense. It was my fault too.” You said

“I guess it is both of our faults.” He said and you chuckled but agreed. You both were quick to get to the restaurant and he was quick to park and then was getting out and helping you out. You both walked into the restaurant and he walked up to the receptionist and he was quick to get you seated. You two talked and caught up and just had a delightful time, it was just like old times. You both ordered and now the wait for food has started.

“I missed you.” You said and he smiled and nodded.

“I missed you too. It was hard to go on not knowing how you were but I was too selfish to actually text you.” He said and you nodded looking at him.

“It was hard finding out through your sister about what you were doing but it helped.” You said and he nodded and just then the food came and you both started eating and finished the date and now you were back at your house inviting him. Steel greeted you and so did Biscuit and they immediately fell in love with him and you fell back in love with him, though you never truly fell out of love with him.

You sat on the couch with a glass of wine, both of your animals had left the room so it was just the both of you, and you both leaned in and now you were kissing him and he was kissing back and neither of you were stopping each other. “Tell me to stop if you want me to stop.” He said when he pulled away and you looked him in the eye.

“I don’t want you to stop.” You said and he smiled.

“I was hoping you were going to say that.” He said and crashed his lips back into yours and he laid you down on the couch. He started to kiss your neck and then got to your sweet spot and gently bit it and that made you moan.

“Tim.” You moaned and he smirked and did it again. You clenched around nothing. You both worked on getting each other clothes off and everything was off in no time in a pile on the floor beside the couch. “I love you.” You said and he trailed down your body peppering it.

“I love you too.” He said in between kisses. He ghosted over nipples giving them equal attention but he knew where you needed him the most. This was not the first time you had sex with this man, he was your first in high school, sure you had sex with other men but nothing compared to him. He still knew how you liked it and knew all the right places to please you. He trailed down to your heated core and was quick to dive in and you moaned out throwing your head back and hands going to his head. He let up for just a second. “We can take this to the bedroom if you want.” He said and you shook your head.

“No, it's perfect here.” You said and he nodded and he was diving back into your pussy licking and sucking on your clit knowing exactly where to use his tongue to please you. “Tim.” You moaned out and bucked your hips towards him and he was quick to hold you down. Your hands left his head and they came up to clutch the couch cushions and your legs spread wider. He started swirling his tongue around your entrance and was tongue fucking you and you felt that rubber band feeling starting to tighten. “‘M close.” You moaned out but he stopped just as soon as you were about to cum. “Tim.” You moaned out in frustration but he was moving up to be face to face with you.

“What?” He asked his breath fanning you and you could smell the wine on this breath.

“I was about to cum.” You said and he smirked.

“You’ll get what you want soon.” He said and kissed you as he rubbed his cock up and down your wet folds and then let up on the kiss as he pushed into you and you both moaned. “See? I told you.” He said and all you did was moan. He stretched you in all the right places and it was like you were back in high school with him all over again.

“Tim.” You moaned and he smirked, loving the way he made you moan and the way you were gripping him. He started to move and you both moaned out.

“You’re still as tight as ever.” He said and attacked your neck with more kisses and love bites.

“You ruined all the other guys for me.” You moaned out and he gave a sharp thrust that hit your g-spot perfectly.

“Good.” He said

“You’re the only one for me.” You said and he gave another sharp thrust and then he started to go faster and you didn’t even have to ask for it. You both wanted this and you both needed it. Everything was perfect. Ever since he started to go faster it was making that rubber band feeling coming back. Each thrust was like heaven and you never wanted it to end. “I’m about to cum.” You moaned out.

“Me too.” He moaned out and picked up his pace and trailed one hand, leaving the other to keep his weight off of you, down to your body to your clit and he started to rub it, flick it, and pinch it all it was doing was making you come closer to the edge. Your orgasm was just right there and so was his.

“Tim!” You yelled out not caring who heard you.

“Cum for me.” He said and sent a flick to your clit and leaned down to bite your nipple and then you were seeing stars. Not a few seconds later his thrusts were getting sloppy “I’m gonna cum.” He said and then his hips stilled and he painted your walls right. It was a good thing you were on birth control, you thought as you and Tim came down from your highs. Tim slowly slipped out of you and then got behind you and threw an arm around you. He grabbed the blanket from off the back of the couch and threw it over you both. “I’m never gonna let you leave again.” He said and you smiled and nodded and turned to look at him.

“I’m never going to leave. Ever.” You said and he smiled and leaned down to kiss you.

“I love you.” He said

“I love you too.” You replied

You wanted this. You wanted forever with him and he wanted that with you too. You both wanted to marry each other and start a family with each other. Neither of you could wait to finally be with each other forever. You both wanted this since high school and nothing is going to get in the way of you both being together forever, not again.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

2 years later………

You and Tim had been married for 2 years now and had a 2-year-old son, Dakota. Your son was conceived on the last day of your honeymoon. Now you are 6 months pregnant with your second child, this one being a girl. Your jobs were going great and Tim had just been promoted to Sergeant which meant a bigger paycheck. Now you and Dakota were walking into the precinct to meet with your husband. You had just parked the car and got out and got Dakota out. “Kota, hold my hand when crossing the street.” You said and he nodded.

“Otay momma.” He said and you smiled and ran a hand through his hair, he was the exact copy of his father. You grabbed his hand and the both of you walked across the street and into the precinct.

“Good morning, Mrs. Bradford and Dakota.” The receptionist said and you smiled.

“Good morning, Veronica.” You said “Tim in?” You asked and she nodded.

“Yup, you know where to find him.” She said and you nodded and then you were heading to him with a hand on your sons and one on your stomach.

“Y/N! Dakota!” Lucy said and you smiled.

“Hello, Lucy.” You said and your son waved at her.

“Tim is in his office.” She said and you smiled and walked to his office. You looked into the room and saw him focusing on his work and you looked down at Dakota.

“Knock, Baby.” You said and he smiled and did so.

“Come in.” He said and you opened the door and you both stepped in.

“Daddy!” Dakota said and he looked up and smiled and walked around his desk and scooped his son up.

“Hello there, handsome. Have you been good for mommy?” He asked and he nodded.

“We went to the store, I helped!” Dakota rambled on and Tim smiled.

“You helped mommy?” He asked and looked at you and you nodded.

“Uh huh. I helped carry!” He said and he smiled.

“That’s my boy.” He said and kissed his cheek and then walked over and kissed you. “How is our little girl doing?” He asked.

“Currently being still for once but using my bladder as a soccer ball a lot.” You said and he chuckled. He put Dakota down and he walked over to the table with toys and coloring books that Tim kept for him. Tim put his hand on your stomach and immediately the baby kicked. “She must know that she has her daddy here.” You said and he chuckled and leaned down to kiss you.

“Mommy! Daddy! Come help!” Dakota all but shouted and you two broke apart.

“Ok, we’re coming.” Tim said and you followed him over there and he sat down on the ground and you sat in a chair which he helped you sit in. Tim got into helping Dakota so that you were able to lean back and watch with a smile on your face. This was the dream you always wanted with him and you got it finally after so long. You were married to the man of your dreams, had a son together, and have a daughter on the way. You rubbed your stomach as she kicked and that made you smile.

You were finally happy and couldn’t wait to spend the rest of your years with the man of your dreams since high school. They were your world and you wouldn’t trade anything for it. You loved your growing family and you knew Tim did and that made you happy. Tim looked over at you and smiled. “I love you.” You mouthed and he smiled.

“I love you too.” He mouthed and then Dakota was grabbing his attention again and you chuckled, yup you loved little growing family.

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thewintersoldierdisaster · 10 months ago

Text

a/n: i played myself on this one. posted that little barzy blanket thief headcanon post a million years ago and then i had to write this! the pro shop doesn’t sell the themed comfy, which i think it should but whatever. couldn’t resist writing this one and it just got away from me. full disclosure this was written before christmas but i didn’t want to post it in the middle of posting the other christmas fics so i held it back for a little bit! enjoy!!

word count: 6.2k

tw: brief unprotected sex, fingering, dirty talk, protected sex

summary: mat’s a blanket thief and tries to make it up to you

In theory, the king sized mattress that you’d bought for the new house was meant to stop Mat from stealing all of your blankets in the middle of the night. What with king sized sheets and blankets and comforters to go along with the king sized mattress, the thought was that Mat would have more than enough of his own coverings without having to take yours too.

Wrong. So wrong.

Every night for the first week in the new house, Mat rolls himself into a little burrito of blankets, cocooned up in the warmth that you’re missing. He’s oblivious to it too, which is extra annoying for some reason. It’s not even like he normally sleeps all rolled up in the covers. Usually Mat’s a restless sleeper, all that energy trying to escape even when he’s asleep, and he’s starfished on the mattress or rolling from one side to the other. Only after games or travel days does he pass out like the dead, after, of course, working you into the mattress and making sure you both have at least one orgasm.

For whatever reason lately, even when he’s got an off day, he’s been sleeping like a log, moving only to pull the covers over his shoulders and rolling them around his body.

“Mat,” you hiss his name, pulling at the comforter. He doesn’t budge at all. “Mat!”

If anything, he wraps himself tighter in the blankets.

You let out a frustrated little growl and pull harder, planting your foot flat against his outer thigh, or where you assume his outer thigh is, and kick a little, trying to get some leverage. Mat grunts a little in his sleep and shifts his lower body away from you, taking the blankets with him.

You flop back against your side of the bed, exposed to the elements and freezing. Stupid fucking Mat and his “the bedroom has to be at sixty-five degrees so we get the best possible sleep” arguments. A chill runs down your spine and you scowl to yourself, yanking at the little bit of sheet you managed to keep him from taking, wrapping it around yourself and snuggling up close against his back for a little warmth.

The next morning, as usual, Mat’s awake before you and you’ve got the covers back, having subconsciously pulled them over your body when he left the bed. Groaning at the thought of having to leave the warm bed, you drag a hand over your face before slowly getting up and padding to the bathroom to brush your teeth and wash your face. Feet shoved into Ugg slippers that have seen better days and pulling a sweatshirt over your head, you make your way down to the kitchen where you find Mat making himself eggs at the stove. You lean a hip against the kitchen island, watching him for a few minutes, the way his muscles work as he’s cooking, bare back displayed just for you. His sweats hang low on his hips and you want to press your hands against his lower back.

“Staring’s rude, Squeaks,” he says on a laugh. Without turning from the stove, he gestures to the counter with the spatula in his hand, “coffee’s hot.”

“Stealing all the blankets from your poor frozen girlfriend is also rude,” you reply deadpan, reaching up for your favorite mug and pouring yourself a generous serving of coffee. You doctor it up with sugar cookie flavored creamer and wrap your hands around the ceramic to warm them up before taking a sip.

Now he turns to face you and his eyes go wide and his eyebrows lift up his forehead. “Ah, shit. I’m still doing that even with the bigger bed?”

“Mhm,” you confirm with a roll of your eyes. “I’d say we should upgrade to a California King, but you’d probably keep doing it.” An amused smirk plays on your lips and Mat grimaces.

He sets the spatula down and flips off the burner before coming over to stand in between your legs. You keep your mug held up by your chest as a barrier. “I’m sorry, babe,” he brushes the tip of his nose against yours. His hands fall to your hips, sliding up underneath the fabric of your sweatshirt. His palms are warm and rough against your skin and you shiver a little. His hands slide up your sides, thumbs brushing the undersides of your breasts and you can’t help yourself from pushing your chest further into his hands. “You should’ve woken me up, I would’ve given you the blankets back.”

A startled laugh bursts out of your mouth and Mat looks briefly offended. The pads of his thumbs freeze on your nipples.

“What?” He asks, flicking a nipple with his fingernail. You press your thighs together. “I can share.”

“If you,” you start, stuttering a little as Mat’s fingers roll over your nipples, “think that it’s just that easy to wake you up, you’re delusional.”

Mat huffs a laugh and you yelp when he pinches down hard. The menace. He knows he’s a heavy sleeper. You reach behind you to set your coffee mug down on the counter, afraid that the hot brew is going to spill everywhere. “Aw, come on,” he teases, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek, “it’s so easy to wake me up.” His hands continue their work under your sweatshirt and you feel your panties growing damp.

“Mmm?” You hum, letting your knee rub up against the outside of Mat’s thigh slowly, opening yourself up to him. “I kicked you twice and not even a peep.” Your hands come up to lock around Mat’s neck. Your fingers play in the shirt bristles of Mat’s hair and you wish, not for the first time in months, that he would let his hair grow in again.

He lets his hands slide down your sides again, one over your stomach and one around your back. “Your mistake,” he says, pulling you closer so your core is flush up against the hard ridge of his erection. You grind against him mindlessly, tension building low in your stomach, already forgetting why you were annoyed. “I don’t respond to kicking,” his hand works its way underneath your sweats and grabs a palmful of your ass. The other hand remains frustratingly warm against your lower stomach, the tips of his fingers just barely brushing against the elastic of your panties. “Gotta be nicer to me, baby.”

“Oh yeah?” You breathe, wiggling against him, scratching your nails absently against his scalp. “What do you suggest?”

“I dunno,” he shrugs, kneading your ass with one hand. “Could’ve wrapped that pretty mouth around my dick.”

Fire pools in your stomach even as you giggle. “And how would I have penetrated that cocoon of blankets you stole?” You ask tartly, raising an eyebrow. Before Mat can answer, you continue, “besides, blow jobs are a reward for good boys.”

Mat’s ears go pink, but he smirks at you. “Just like getting your pussy licked is for good girls?”

Your cheeks heat and arousal floods between your legs, a little gasp punching from your lungs. You try to press your thighs together, but Mat’s hand is lightning fast, sliding under the band of your panties and cupping you in one warm, broad palm. You squeal at the sudden contact, grinding down onto his hand. “Maaat,” you whine his name, his fingers stroking gently between your folds, teasing at your entrance. He uses his grip on your ass to drag you closer to his chest and you allow him, knees feeling weak as his fingers play with you.

Your hands drift down to his biceps, gripping them for dear life to keep you upright. “Stop teasing,” you hiss, the tip of his middle finger sliding inside of you. You clench around him, chasing his hand and your pleasure.

“So fucking wet, babe,” Mat grins, dropping his forehead to yours. His hand never stops moving, drawing you closer to the peak of your pleasure. “So good for me.”

All the blood in your body rushes to your cunt at the praise and your back is arching, pressing Mat’s fingers deeper. He holds the pad of his thumb firmly over your clit and squeezes your ass, slanting his mouth over yours to muffle the moan that escapes when he rubs against your clit. Your toes curl in your slippers and your head falls back, legs trembling with the force of your orgasm as it washes over you. Mat’s fingers guide you through the aftershocks for a few lazy moments and you drop your chin to your chest, breathing hard.

“Why was I mad at you?” You mumble, laughing breathlessly. You wiggle your hips, starting to get overstimulated and uncomfortable with Mat’s hand still down the front of your panties. He takes the hint and pulls his hand out of your pants. His fingers are wet with your arousal as they brush against your lower stomach and you shiver happily.

Casually, he sticks his middle and ring fingers in his mouth to suck them clean, releasing them with a wet pop. “‘Cause I steal blankets,” he replies, without really thinking. He realizes his mistake a beat later, hazel eyes going wide and jaw dropping open. “Aw, fuck. If I haul you up on the counter and eat you out will you forget I said that?”

“Nope!” Your giggle turns into a shriek as you try to escape Mat’s lunging hands. He digs his fingers into your sides, tickling you mercilessly. “Nooo! Mat! Stop! No tickling-“

“Gonna make you forget about the blankets one way or another,” Mat laughs, holding your squirming body tightly. Your ass presses against his crotch and he hisses, biting gently on your shoulder.

“Never! If I forget, you’ll just steal them again,” your words are stuttered from laughter and you fight Mat’s hands. He’s stronger and manages to wrestle you to the kitchen floor, pinning your wrists above your head, straddling your lap, knees on either side of your hips. His sweats ride low and the chain around his neck sways with the momentum. His cock bobs behind his sweats and you swallow harshly. Mat grins down at you, flattening his body to yours, his cock pressing insistently against your stomach. He kisses the edge of your jaw as you wiggle under him.

“You look pretty warm to me,” Mat teases, rolling his hips against yours. The hard heat of his erection makes your thighs tremble.

You wrinkle your nose at him, fully aware that he has the upper hand in your positioning. “You’re going to be late to practice,” you say, even as your hips lift to his subconsciously.

“Always plenty of time to fuck my girl silly,” he says lightly, bumping his cock against your cunt again. “As long as she forgives me for being a blanket thief.”

“Mmm,” you whine, heat prickling up your spine, “you’re forgiven. Just…I need you.”

Mat’s teeth scrape at your jaw and one hand lets go of your wrists, moving between your bodies and tugging your sweats and panties down in one swift move. The cold kitchen tile against your bare ass has you yelping and instinctively bucking your hips off the ground, up into Mat’s hips. He soothes a hand over your inner thigh before pulling his sweats down enough to free his cock. You crane your neck to look down at him, grinning when you see the tip of him, groaning when he bumps it against your clit. Shocks of pleasure ripple through your body and you whine again, heels kicking against the floor, dripping for him.

“Gonna give you everything, ‘kay?” Mat mumbles, gripping the base of his cock and guiding it to your entrance, letting the tip slip inside of you. His head falls forward on a groan and you grind down on him, trying to get more.

“Just not - can’t come inside,” you babble, bucking your hips up into his. “Not without a condom.”

“I’ll pull out,” he promises and you know he means it. You’re on birth control and neither of you is ready for kids. “Gotta fuck you good. Make you come on my cock and gonna finish in your mouth.”

His words are punctuated with harsh thrusts that have your back sliding against the floor. Your free hand roams Mat’s body, scratching against his chest and arm, fingers tangling briefly in the chain around his neck. You egg him on, reaching down to dig your nails into his hips. “C’mon, Mat. Harder, please!” You beg, meeting him thrust for thrust.

“Fuck. Fuck, so good. You’re so perfect, baby,” Mat grunts, leaning down to kiss you and changing the angle so he hits harder and deeper inside of you. “Gonna fuck you everywhere in this house. Every wall, every floor.”

Your body tenses up with pleasure, gasps and moans leaving your lips along with Mat’s name. Your orgasm builds heavy and fast in your stomach, clit throbbing from the drag of Mat’s pelvis against the swollen, sensitive nub. “Gonna - Mat, please!” You cut off in a wail when his free hand finds your clit and pinches it, sending you over the edge of pleasure, sparks dancing in your vision, arousal leaking from your cunt down the curve of your ass. Your hand slaps against the floor, fingers scrabbling for purchase as he continues fucking into you, the hard, hot drag of his bare cock making you stupid.

Mat’s hips continue pistoning into yours and you’re faintly aware of the slapping of skin against skin underneath his babbling. “Jesus, so fucking pretty when you come. Love that face, love that I made you make that face,” the words fall from his mouth without him even focusing on them, too busy working his cock in and out of you.

You watch his shoulders tense up, feel his thrusts falter a little and you know he’s close. “Mat, not - no baby,” you remind him, pushing at his shoulder, hand slipping down to his chest, stomach, hip.

“Fuck,” he groans, pumping into you once more before pulling out completely, the sudden loss of him inside of you leaving you feeling too empty. You slide your own hand from his hip and let your fingers skate over your clit lazily, not really working yourself towards another orgasm, but just easing the empty feeling. Mat’s hand grips the base of his cock, jacking himself once, twice, three times before his entire body goes taut and he comes all over your sweatshirt covered chest, too far gone to even give you a chance to try and get your mouth on him. “Sorry, baby, sorry. I’ll buy you a new one. I couldn’t—“ he mutters around the groans and slick sounds of his palm sliding over his cock.

When he’s done, the hand holding yours above your head loosens and Mat flops down onto his back next to you. His cock is softening against his thigh and you have a literal puddle of his cum warming your skin through the material of your sweatshirt. Your ass is cold against the tile, wet where your arousal had dripped down the curve. You roll your neck and look at Mat, watching his chest heave while he catches his breath. His cheeks are pink from exertion and his limbs are completely limp.

“We’re disgusting,” you comment on a laugh, afraid to move.

“Why didn’t you say the tile was so cold on your ass?” Mat replies, lifting his hips so he can pull his sweats back up. You watch with a little pout as his cock disappears under the sweats, a little wet spot forming and turning the fabric a darker grey.

“I was a little busy getting railed on the kitchen floor,” you deadpan. “That I’m going to have to clean with, like, bleach now.”

Mat rolls onto his side, props his head up on his elbow, and gives you such a mischievous, shit-eating grin that you kick out your foot to make contact with his shin. “What’s with that look?” You comment, wiggling your sweats back up over your lower body. He whines a little.

“Just thinking about how hard up we were that I had to fuck you on the floor,” he laughs, his fingers coming over to tug on a piece of your hair.

“If anyone hears about this,” you warn, half-joking, half-serious, “I swear to God that I will never give you a blowjob again.”

A laugh startles out of his chest and Mat promises he won’t say anything, defends himself that he doesn’t usually talk about your sex life with the guys anyway.

“That includes Beau,” you warn him, carefully wiggling into a sitting position, wincing when Mat’s cum slides down your chest and pools in the fabric of gathered on your lap. “This is so gross, Mat.”

“He’s my best friend!” Mat yelps. “I tell him everything.” You whip your head in his direction, eyes wide and mouth dropped open a bit. There is no way Beau knows everything about sex life. Mat backtracks, his hands up in surrender, “not everything. I didn’t mean everything. He knows a lot, but not about the time we almost killed each other in the shower or the time I almost —“

You clap a hand over his mouth, muffling his ramble. “Enough. Oh my god. You seriously need to get a filter,” you can’t help the little disbelieving laugh that works its way out of your mouth. Shaking your head, you mutter to yourself, “to think this all started because you’re a fucking blanket thief.”

Mat opens his mouth under your hand to defend himself and you can physically see him gearing up for a long ramble, so you shake your head. “No, nope. Go get yourself cleaned up for practice. I need to get myself in a completely different headspace for the day,” you laugh. “Fucked on the kitchen floor was not how I pictured my week starting.”

Mat licks your palm so you’ll pull it away from his face. You grimace at him and wipe your hand on his bare chest, the faint smattering of dark hair over his chest tickling your skin. “Don’t say that’s gross, Squeaks,” he teases, leaning in to kiss you, “I’ve had my tongue all over that body.”

You narrow your eyes at him, “it’s the principle of the licking. Now leave me, I have to figure out how to get this sweatshirt off without making more of a mess and it’s not going to be cute.”

He laughs at you and gets to his feet, dropping a kiss to the top of your head. “Whatever you want, babe. I’ll be back down in a few to finish making breakfast.”

You’d almost forgotten that Mat had been cooking when you came downstairs. Thank God he’d turned off the stove. As he heads back upstairs, you drop back onto your back, arms spread out to your sides. What a fucking morning.

——-

Mat’s out of town for a few days, a mini road trip that has him gone from your bed for nearly a week, and so you get the bed and blankets all to yourself. You’ve more or less forgotten about Mat’s thieving habits when you have the thick comforters wrapped securely around your body.

So when Mat comes home on a Saturday afternoon, lugging a giant shopping bag along with his suitcase and duffel bag, you’re a little curious and a lot confused.

“Plane snacks?” You tease after accepting a hello kiss from him.

“Those didn’t even make it out of the Tampa airport,” he grins, setting the bag on the couch. “This is even better.”

You lean over the back of the couch and watch as Mat pulls a blue and orange something out of the bag. He shakes it out and you recognize it as the extra long Islanders-logo patterned, hooded Comfy that’s being sold in the pro shop at the Northwell rink. Mat holds it out in front of him with a little “ta-dah!” and a big, cheesy grin on his face.

“What is that?” You ask rhetorically, hand reaching out of its own accord to touch the fleecy fabric. It’s soft, you’ll give him that.

“It’s one of those Comfy things, for you to wear when I steal blankets,” he laughs. “I haven’t forgotten what happened last week.”

Instinctively, your gaze cuts to the spot on the kitchen floor that you’d scrubbed three times with bleach. Mat’s eyes follow yours and his grin turns into a feral little smirk. “Haven’t forgotten that either,” he continues. “But try it on.”

“This is ridiculous,” you say, grabbing for the hooded blanket. Pulling it over your jeans and t-shift, your voice is muffled, “you could always just stop making a cocoon out of the blankets - oh!”

It’s extremely soft, the Comfy. The hood is oversized enough that the hem of it flops over your eyes, obscuring your view of Mat, and keeping your head nice and warm. The sleeves hang a few inches past your hands and the bottom of it comes to your mid-shin. It’s like wearing a space heater. You wrap your arms around yourself and sway a little, giggling.

“I actually love this?” You can’t believe it. There’s so much room and you know that if you were sitting on the couch you could tuck your legs up under the fabric and still have plenty of space. “Okay, we still have to train you not to steal blankets, but this is a nice temporary solution.”

Mat’s laugh is delighted and you flip back the hood to look at him. “You’re adorable in that,” he says, coming around the back of the couch to get into your personal space. “Gonna share with me?”

“Absolutely fucking not,” you giggle, dancing away from him, the fleece swishing around your legs. “This is my reward!”

“For what?” Mat cocks an eyebrow at you.

“Putting up with you,” you retort, hands on your hips, knowing you look insane in your new getup.

Mat grabs for the fabric, snagging it between two long fingers and pulling you into him. “Babe,” he kisses your cheek, “you give just as good as you get.”

You cuddle up against his chest, head tucked under his chin and arms wrapped around his waist. “Missed you,” you mumble into his shirt.

“Missed you too,” his arms tighten around your back. “How about we do something fun tonight? I’ll take you out for dinner too.”

——-

The Comfy works wonders even though Mat continues to steal the blankets. More often than not, you’re wearing the giant hoodie to bed, tucking your legs up underneath and curling up in a little ball.

Mat loves the stupid thing too - if you’re wearing it while laying on the couch, he’ll crawl up underneath it too, laying on top of you, chest to chest, like a giant weighted blanket. The head hole isn’t quite big enough for both of you, so usually the top of Mat’s head is bumping up against your chin while he rests his cheek against your chest, groping and mouthing at your breasts.

“It’s hot under here,” he complains, voice muffled. He’s kneading one of your breasts in his giant hand, lazily grinding his half-hard cock against your thigh.

“The Comfy is only meant for one person,” you sigh. You’re getting sweaty and worked up from Mat’s body heat. “It’s a giant fleece blanket, what did you expect?”

“Dunno,” Mat says against your shirt, licking your nipple through the thin cotton. You arch your back, pressing your breast into his mouth. “Wasn’t really thinking.”

He bites the underside of your breast and you wince, even as a spark of pleasure fires low in your stomach. You’re surprised that you don’t have a permanent mark there - Mat’s a biter.

“Story of your life, Mathew,” you murmur affectionately. “How about I take the portable sauna off and you fuck me into the couch properly?”

Still under the Comfy, Mat tries to sit up, gets tangled in the fabric and before you know it, you’re both falling off the couch and landing on the floor in a pile. Your knee drives into Mat’s thigh, your elbow in his stomach and he grunts with pain. Your head takes a glancing hit to the edge of the coffee table and you see stars briefly. “Fuck,” you drag the curse out for a few extra seconds. Mat’s wiggling underneath you, trying to get out from the confines of the fabric.

“Are you okay?” You ask, trying to roll off of him and help pull the fabric away from his body. Mat’s face is bright red, but he looks okay.

“No one can ever know about that,” he says seriously.

You laugh and he breaks, cracking up too. “How about we never discuss our sex life outside of the relationship cone of silence?” You hold out your hand for him to shake.

“Deal,” he shakes your hand once, snorting a laugh. He leans up into a sitting position. “Can I still fuck you into the couch?”

“I think I’d be kind of insulted if you didn’t,” you pull the Comfy over your head and toss it off to the side before crawling into Mat’s lap so you can wind your arms around his neck and kiss him deeply. Mat’s hands roam up your back, under your shirt, pulling you closer to him. You rock your hips, grinding down over his cock and Mat moans into your mouth. He braces one arm around your lower back and gets up on his knees to lift you onto the couch, pressing you back into the cushions. He settles into the cradle of your hips, your thighs coming up to wrap around his waist, ankles crossing at his lower back.

He grinds his cock against your cunt and you whine into his mouth, breaking the kiss to say, “want it hard and fast, Mat. Don’t be sweet, just fuck me hard, okay?”

Mat’s pupils are blow so wide you can’t see any of his hazel irises. He nods like a bobble head, “yeah, fuck yeah, baby. Whatever you need.”

He makes quick work of your pants, leaning back on his knees to get both of you bare from the waist down. His jaw goes slack when he sees just how wet you are for him, his hands holding your thighs open so he can just stare for a bit. “Jesus,” he mutters and your cheeks warm. You kick at the back of his thigh, startling Mat.

“If you don’t get a condom on in the next thirty seconds,” you say, fighting past the blush that’s heating your entire body, “I can’t guarantee that I won’t just take matters into my own hands.”

Mat laughs hoarsely and springs into action, reaching for one of the little side drawers on the coffee table. A strip of condoms is hidden away there just for times like these. Your hands are already sliding down your stomach to tease at your throbbing clit. Mat catches sight of you and smacks your hands away, the condoms in his other hand. “Oh no way,” he growls. “I still have twenty seconds.”

You laugh and start a little countdown, making Mat’s fingers fumble on the foil wrappings. He scowls at you and shifts so one knee is pressed firmly against your cunt. You break off into a surprised moan, head thrown back against the couch cushion, “Mat!”

He shifts his knee, moving it slightly so your throbbing clit catches against his leg hair and you whine, grinding down harder on him. “You’re not gonna touch yourself,” he warns, finally getting the condom open and rolled down his straining erection, “are you, baby?”

“No, no,” the words stutter out of your chest as Mat keeps moving his knee against you. Your hands fly out to clutch the couch cushions and Mat grins down at you.

“This pussy’s mine,” he says, planting one foot on the floor and keeping one knee bent on the couch so he can stabilize himself. You whine at the loss of contact from your cunt, but the noise gets choked off in the next second when Mat grabs your hips and thrusts into you in one swift punch of his hips. His hips smack against yours as he bottoms out and you cry his name in a babble of breathless chants.

“Told you,” he grunts, pumping into you and using his grip on your hips to push and pull you closer, your ass hitting high up on his thighs. “Mine, fucking mine.”

Your legs lock around his hips, thighs trembling, heels pushing against the top of his ass. “Oh - god, more! Mat!” Your fingertips turn white from how hard you’re grabbing at the couch cushions, your body sliding up with the force of Mat’s thrusts. Your breath hiccups out of your lungs, fire burning in your veins. Every hit of his cock against your g-spot has you screaming his name.

“Fucking -“ Mat grunts, jaw slack as he watches where his cock splits you open, disappearing into your soaked cunt. “Gorgeous. Fucking all for me, baby.”

You need more, just a little more to push you over the edge. Mat usually pays attention to your clit, helping you finish, but he’s pounding into you hard and fast, just like you asked, so you reach a shaking hand down and circle your fingertips around your clit, arching your back with the added stimulation. Mat growls over you and bats your hand away, not stopping his pace.

“Told you no touching,” he huffs, pulling your hips flush against his and holding you there, his cock throbbing inside of your cunt. “Ask for it, baby.”

Tears slip out of the corners of your eyes and trail down your temples. You whine, “wanna touch my clit, Mat. Need it.”

Instead of touching you, Mat’s hands tighten on your hips and circle them slowly over his cock, your clit pressed tightly against the dark hair at his base, making you moan, eyes squeezed shut hard enough for you to see stars.

“Come on, baby,” Mat mumbles, watching you fall apart. “Come for me, gonna make you cum. Right here on my cock.” He pulls his hips back, all but the tip of him leaving your body and you babble at him, trying to grab at his wrists to pull him back in. “Who’s gonna make you cum?” He asks, snapping his hips back against yours, harsh and fast.

“You!” You wail, dragging out the word for several seconds, barely breathing as Mat bullies the orgasm from your body, holding your hips to his as you clench around him, shaking in his grip. Pleasure loosens all of your limbs as you gush around Mat, crying his name.

He strokes his thumbs over your hipbones and pumps into you a handful more times, but you’re barely aware of him filling the condom with a shout of your name, your head fuzzy with post-orgasm haze. Mat breathes heavily over you, slumping slightly to the side as he finishes, loosening his grip on you. You blink sleepily up at him, a lazy, satisfied smile forming on your lips. “What?” He asks, voice raspy and smoky.

“Just really like your face,” your smile turns a little wicked, “‘specially when you’re cumming.” You wrangle your features into a caricature of his orgasm face. “Looks like this.”

Mat pinches your hip and pulls out of you, wincing when he takes the condom off and ties off the end. “Yeah? Yours looks like this,” he throws his head back dramatically, squeezes his eyes shut, and drops his mouth open, letting his tongue flop out like he’s a corpse on a terrible soap opera.

You bark a laugh, kicking at him. “I do not!”

“Do too,” Mat grins, leaning down to cup your jaw and kiss you with tongue and teeth. “Good thing I think you’re the fucking hottest woman on the planet.” He climbs off the couch to toss the condom and you watch his ass as he walks away. It should literally be a crime to have an ass that tight. Your clit gives a pathetic little throb as you watch him, used and abused but so ready to go another round. You slip a hand between your legs, rolling the swollen nub between your fingers gently.

“Can we implement like naked weekends around here?” You ask, popping your head over the back of the couch. Mat’s laughter echoes through the kitchen.

“You know I’m never gonna say no to that,” he replies, and then in the next second, his t-shirt is flying through the air and landing on your head. “In fact, let’s start now.”

——-

You get in late from girls’ night - it’s close to one in the morning - and you know Mat’s asleep. He’d texted you around midnight, a typo-filled message that essentially said he was going to bed, but if you wanted to wake him with a blow job he wouldn’t be opposed to it. You’d snorted a laugh at the message, hiding your screen from the other girls while you typed back a definitive no. He’d replied with a pouting selfie that you ignored. You figure he’d gone to bed shortly after that since the boys have a game later in the day.

The house is dark when you get home, just a few of the under cabinet lights on in the kitchen so you don’t trip on anything.

You make your way slowly up to your bedroom, unsteady on your feet, discarding your shoes and clothes as you go. All you want to do is curl up in bed and pass out.

There’s a lump of blankets on one side of the bed that tells you Mat is passed out under there. Sure enough, when you get closer, you can see one of his bare feet poking out from the bottom of the covers. You smile faintly to yourself, getting rid of the last of your clothes and rummaging around in a drawer for a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. The alcohol has your body feeling overly warm so you don’t bother with retrieving your Comfy from the closet. You’ll manage with whatever blankets you can wrestle away from Mat.

The bed is nice and warm from Mat’s body heat and you settle happily on your side of the bed, cricketing your feet a little to really warm things up. Mat hasn’t wrapped himself all up yet, so you scoot closer to him, planning on pressing your chest against his back and spooning him, but instead of feeling bare skin or the cotton of a t-shirt, your fingers are met with a familiar fleecy material.

“What the fuck?” you forget to whisper and your voice is loud and echoes around the room. You squint and pull back the blankets that are partially covering Mat’s head.

The royal blue and orange of the Islanders’ logo comes into view and your jaw drops when it finally clicks that Mat’s wearing your Comfy to bed. The hood is secured over his head and his hands are tucked into the sleeves.

“Oh my god!” You shove at Mat’s shoulder and he startles.

“Hnghh?” He grunts, rolling onto his back, yawning.

“You took my Comfy!” You jab at his arm and Mat’s eyes crack open.

A faint, sleepy smile curves his lips. “Hey, babe,” he mumbles, reaching a hand out for you. “Have fun with the girls?” He stretches, blankets shifting around.

“Don’t ’hey, babe’ me!” You grumble, pulling at the blankets. “You literally gave me that because you take my blankets. Now you take my Comfy?”

Mat yawns again, jaw cracking. He doesn’t look apologetic at all. “It’s warm,” he whines, grabbing your hand to pull you closer. “And it smells like you.”

You go to him despite yourself, scooting over and curling up against his side, tucking your shoulder under his armpit. Your legs brush against his and you frown. “Are you naked in my Comfy, Mathew?” You yelp, pulling at the fleece fabric. “You cannot be serious!”

“I have boxers on!” He laughs in protest, swatting your hands away from him. “I’m not gross.”

“Yes, you are,” you grumble, growing sleepy again. “I want a new one now that you’ve taken this one.”

He slings his legs over yours, arms holding you close as he kisses your forehead. “I can share, Squeaks. I’m a generous boyfriend,” he laughs against your hair. You press closer to his warmth, burying your face in his chest.

“You failed sharing in kindergarten, Mat,” you tease quietly. He slaps your ass gently and you giggle, curling up closer to him.

“So mean to me,” you can hear the pout in his voice. “Definitely not sharing now. Gonna buy my own Comfy.”

——

When Mat comes home from practice three days later, he’s toting another giant bag that he hadn’t left the house with.

You eye it suspiciously and he’s laughing like a lunatic as he pulls out another Comfy, declaring, “we match, Squeaks.”

“Oh my god,” you laugh. You didn’t think he was actually serious about getting his own.

Mat pulls the fabric over his head and does a little twirl for you, holding his arms out. “How do I look?” He asks, striking a dramatic pose, pushing his lips out in an exaggerated duck face.

“Like the hottest oversized fleece hoodie model in the world,” you reply, reaching out to grab the fabric and pull him in for a kiss.

#mat barzal #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal x you #mat barzal fic #mat barzal imagine

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