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i-cant-sing · 2 months ago

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Time Traveller AU part 12

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. Time Traveller au masterlist is here. Check out my MASTERLIST for more!

You and Silas stared at each other.

"What do you mean "okay"?"

You nod. "Okay, I'll marry you."

He looked at you suspiciously. "Why?"

"Why not?"

"That is not an answer." He frowned, making you sigh as you turned your body to face him completely. "Look, you're going to pay me anyways right?" He nodded. "So, I need the money, and well... lets just say I have nothing else left to lose. Maybe I'm just bored."

Bored? More like pissed at the universe and I will not let it beat me to the ground anymore. I wont go out without causing chaos and maybe if someone tries to kill me again, I will perhaps consider disrupting the historical timeline to make the universe itself combust and unravel. If I'm suffering, I'm taking the universe along!

Silas gave you an incredulous look, before shrugging in defeat. "Very well, then."

"Wait-" You stop him from getting up. "Why did you choose me? Actually, why do you need a wife?"

He rolled his eyes, standing up, you following along. "Come on, Silas. Tell me. Is it cause I'm pretty? Smart-"

"You dressed as a man."

What?

"What?"

He looked down at you. "What? You didnt think I'd spot you in that poor disguise at the newspaper office that day?"

Silas saw me that day? He recognised me?

"How did you even-" He scoffed. "I'm intelligent. And I have eyes. I notice everyone and everything." He turned around and began walking away.

"Wait!" You ran after him. "That still doesnt answer my question! You're marrying me because I dressed like a man? What- you're attracted by that-"

"Stop talking." Silas cut you off abruptly. "I chose you because you work at the newspaper, not because you're a man."

"Oh. So you need someone to write out articles singing your praises?Cant you just pay someone to do that?"

He rolled his eyes. "No. I dont need someone to sing my praises. I need you to be the mole there. I want you to report everything that happens at the paper, specifically about the murders thats been on going these days."

Murders? Murders-

"The White Chapel murders?" He nodded. "I need the papers to focus on them, not on me or who I am marrying. I need them to put the pressure on the cops to catch that sick bastard! Not idolise him with that stupid alias-"

"Jack the Ripper." You finish for him. He breathes heavily, anger radiating off him. "Yes, that. Because its only causing people to either admire him for killing off those prostitutes or fear him, letting the idea of them terrorise them!"

"I see. But... why do you need to get married to me for that? I mean, if you pay me, I could just report to you everything from there, including his letters."

Silas looked at you in slight annoyance, as if mad that you couldnt figure out his motives.

"The papers are focusing on me and my marriage. If I get married, the news will only run for a week or two before diverting their attention to the papers. And before you ask why I'm marrying you specifically instead of someone much better suited to my tastes-" okay, not gonna take that insult to heart. "- I told you, you work at the paper, which means you'll report everything to me. And if I were to marry someone more influential, the papers will continue to write about us for longer. But you? You're a nobody- believe me, I checked. You have no family, dont come from nobility, so no one will talk about you. "

Great. "Wow, you do know how to flatter a woman."

Silas smirked. "Trust me, "a woman" would be flattered-" You shot him a glare before he could finish off his joke.

Silas and you got married later that night. He arranged an out-of-town priest, some official documents, and two witnesses for the vows, which were his butler Cadbury and his wife, Erin, who acted as the best man and maid-of-honor. It was obvious that Silas wanted to keep this ceremony a secret, and he told you that the time will come to break the news.

When the priest asked him to kiss you, SIias pulled a face and said to skip over that part because you had bad breath. You did not. Jerk.

But you were glad you didnt had to kiss him, so you didnt bother kicking his shin. Maybe nearly dying so many times has made you grow a pair, or maybe its the fact that you dont actually consider this a real marriage because a Nikkah (an Islamic wedding) ceremony did not happen, so technically, you're still single, but you're surprised at how... calmly you've come to terms with everything.

Silas let you go back to you house, because the marriage was the still a secret so there's no use keeping you around at his place. Besides, he needs you to continue working on the murders.

Honestly, you do kind of want to find out who Jack the Ripper is. Any historian worth his salt, dreams of this very opportunity you've been given- to find out the man behind all the horrendous, gut wrenching murders.

Colin watched you get up from your desk and go to the corner office where Will was working on the murders. Poor Will. Colin pitied the lad- he had to deal with the gruesome details of the murders, write out the articles in details that are just pallatable enough for the readers, only to be rejected by the editor who wanted the front page news to be about Silas FitzGeorge.

What were you doing there? Colin didnt think it was best for you to go in there, after the depressing weeks you'd barely pulled yourself through. Grisly details of a killing spree might not be what you need at the moment.

"Hey Will!" You walk in his office, changing your voice to that of a man.

"Holmes." He acknowledged you briefly, his hair a mess as well his desk. If anyone knew how giddy you were everytime someone in the office called you Sherlock Holmes, you'd be labelled a loser for sure.

"Still working on those murders, eh?" You walk closer to his desk. "Any leads on who the mystery man might be?"

"No." He glared at you. "I would, if the coppers were to do their job and the editor published my work, but noooo. God forbid we miss any details on that FitzGeorge fella and his tragic life. Cry me a fucking river-" Ah, a fellow Silas hater. You can work with that.

"Let me help you." You offer him. Will raises his brow, before scoffing. "Unless you can somehow have the editor publish my articles, I dont think you can help me. Besides, I dont need an amateur disturbing me because he's just wants to see a dead body."

Amateur? Pfft, I'll have you know I was a minor celebrity on Wattpad at just age 11 when I wrote Sherlock Holmes fanfics-

"How about this? If I can convince the editor to post your work, will you let me help?"

Will stares at you, studying you for a moment.

"Fine."

You walk out of his office and go to your desk where Colin is already waiting for you.

"Hey, Colin." You greet him, sitting down as you pull a blank sheet of paper from your drawer and start writing on it.

"Hey... Sherlock. What were you doing in-" He leans down to read what you're writing. "Jack The Ripper- why are you writing about him?"

You shrug. "Why not? He's an important figure to talk about and needs to be caught. If the papers bring enough attention to him, it'll put pressure on the authorities to work harder to catch him."

"I get that, but- I mean, you already have the FitzGeorges to write about and what about other douches in high society?" Colin tried to persuade you.

"I'll write about them too, in fact. Dont worry about it. I'm going to bring you some real dirt soon." You tell him before picking up the pen again, but Colin grasps your wrist, stopping you.

"Y/n, I just dont think that you should be working on this right now-"

"Colin." You cut him off, freeing your wrist. "I'm grateful for your concern for my well being, but I assure you- I am not made of glass. I can handle my business. Besides, this is something that has intrigued me. Let me work on it, please." You say before returning to writing down your points on the homicidal maniac.

After work, you changed out of your disguise and went to the antique store on Regent street, or what was left of it.

You knew there was no chance, but something inside you hoped that your time machine had survived.

The store was burnt down, and since the interior was mainly made of wood, most of the antiques had burnt to ashes or at least, damaged beyond repair and could not be sold.

You stood outside the ruins off the store, the property was sealed off and guards stood outside it, not letting you in.

"Please, I just need to-"

"Like I said, miss. We were given specific instructions not to let anyone in." The guard cut you off, annoyed by your insistence.

Before you could argue again, someone walked up behind you.

"Y/n." Henry looked at you. He was dressed well, his hair combed and face shaved, well kept as he usually was but his eyes.... he had bags under his eyes. Like he hadnt slept in days.

"What are you doing here?"

"Oh, um- I just wanted to see if my stuff is still there."

He nodded at his guards to step aside, leading you inside the shop.

"Look around. See if you can find it." Henry's tone was flat, as if he already knew.

Still, you looked around. You searched the whole place, not even finding the remains off your machine. And how could you? It was made of mostly plastic and very cheap metal, its not like you had funds to make it indestructible.

Or incombustible.

"Satisfied?" He asked you when you finally stopped looking for it.

You huff. "If you'd just given it to me before-"

"Y/n." He cut you off. "I lost my store. I lost my employee who was working in here, who was blasted to pieces. I lost more money than you can ever imagine and you have the nerve to stand there and try to blame it on me? After I'd given you the courtesy to look through my property to put your mind to ease?"

He admonished you, all while barely letting his rage slip through his voice. He was holding back from blowing up on you, but it did not help because you still felt small.

Because he is right. He lost an employee. He lost money. He lost too, and yet you have the audacity to complain to him like he was somehow at fault.

And he wasnt. Its not like he bombed his store.

"Do you know who did it?" You ask, diverting your eyes to avoid his piercing gaze.

"No one "did" it. It was an accident." Henry looked at the floorboard. "Apparently, there was gunpowder in some of the artefacts that came from China that day. The employee probably didnt check it when he put it on the table, next to a candle. Then one got lit up and it set off all the others, blowing up the whole store."

That... sounds like a big coincidence.

"Henry, are you sure someone wasnt behind this-"

"Y/n, I dont have time to entertain your wild theories right now. I have to deal with insurance and other things. Please leave." He cut you off abruptly.

Without giving him another moment to bruise your self esteem, you stormed out of his store. By the time you reached home, it was dark, which wasnt the best idea with a murderer on the loose- as the boys made it clear.

"Do you have any idea what he's capable of?! Have you seen the crime scenes?!" Liam yelled at you.

"No. But its not like I'm a prostitute, so he wont hurt me." You answer from your seat between Benjamin's legs, who insisted on brushing the knots out of your hair and placing some essential oils in your hair.

Liam looked at you like you'd grown two heads. "How would he know that?!"

You leaned forward, frowning. "Okay if you're saying that you cant the difference between a prostitute and me, then thats just insulting to me and to you as a police officer!"

Shepherd suppressed a chuckle as he handed a drink to Liam to calm him down. As they continued to joke around, you mind went to your time machine.

Sure, you could try making it from scratch again. It'll be difficult, and not just because there isnt enough technology to make the whole thing by yourself, but also because the mere idea of building a time machine could have you lobotomised.

So yes, one of the reasons why you agreed to marry Silas was because of his money that would not only let you buy expensive raw materials but also allow you to have a space to make the machine in secret.

Suddenly there was a knock on the door. Colin left to see who it was, returning moments later with a huge box in his hand.

"Its for you." He set the box down and handed you the letter that came with it. You read the letter while the boys opened the box-

"Tomorrow. 7:30 pm sharp.

Dont be late, missus."

The "missus" part gave away that it was from Silas. What was he planning? Were you supposed to go to his place or was he going to pick you up? What was going to happen tomorrow?

"Woah! Who is this from?" Shepherd asked as he looked at the fancy dress in the box. He pulled it out of the box, the gown flowing down effortlessly. "It looks expensive- this is expensive, right? Its expensive." He stated before repeating his question to you. "Who is it from, Y/n?"

You folded the letter as you saw them all looking at you. "I... I might have a date-"

"With who?" Benjamin asked sharply.

"I-" You sigh. "I'll let you know after the date. Lets see how it goes first."

"Oh, come on! Just tell us!" Liam probed, but you took the dress from him, putting it back in the box and taking it to your room, not noticing how silent Colin had went.

You stood in front of the mirror, looking at your reflection while Ben did your hair. Wearing the black velvet gown that had a white blouse and long skirt underneath, puffy regency era sleeves and a belt at the bust, you looked elegant.

Seeing as you had no jewellery to pair the outfit with, Ben styled your hair down, curling the locks and putting a dainty black silk bow on the back, trimming the front of your hair so that they framed your face.

"There's a carriage waiting for you!" Shepherd informed you before going back to gushing about the rich fella you'd managed to bag.

You turned around for Ben for the finishing touches. He smiled softly at you, taking your hands in his and squeezed them gently.

"Dont force yourself to do anything you're not comfortable with, hm? Just because he gave you this dress doesnt mean he can do anything he wishes." You nodded, returning his smile. "And remember, you have me and the boys to beat anyone who upsets you, Y/n." He winked making you giggle.

Standing outside the carriage, you looked up and waved to the 3 boys standing in the window before getting inside.

"Ah, I hope she knows how to use that knife I gave her." Liam mumbled, making Shepherd yell at him.

"You gave her a knife?!"

"What? She needs to protect herself when there's a murderer on the lose-"

As the two continued to bicker, Benjamin went to his room and packed some scissors and razors in a small bag, before leaving the room.

"Where are you going?" Colin asked, finally speaking for the first time that evening. Sitting on the sofa chair, he'd been nursing on a drink the entire time you were getting ready for your drink. He kept quiet, pretending to be to engrossed with reading the paper to notice you getting dressed for your date night.

"I... have a client." Ben said, putting on his top hat and leather gloves before wearing his coat.

"This late?" Colin raised a brow.

Ben gave a nod.

"He... he needs a haircut urgently."

Colin stared at him before sighing, picking up his drink.

"Alright. Be careful. Its foggy out there."

Sitting inside the carriage alone, you wondered where the buttler was taking you. Since Silas isnt here with you, then its likely that you're being taken to him at the FitzGeorge estate.

You take a deep breath, fiddling with the velvet of your dress. So tonight will be the night he announces his marriage to you. Or maybe not. I mean, if he did plan on doing that then perhaps he'd be giving you some pointers on how to win over his family? To get their approval? It was a big thing for high society, if not for someone who is loosely attached to royalty.

Maybe thats why he called you over tonight. To soft launch you to his family, something like- "hey, this is Y/n, a girl I fancy. I think she might be the one." so that it seems a lot more believable when he does introduce himself as your husband, probably a few weeks or a month from now.

Yes. Silas doesnt seem like the type to just spring up the union on his family out of nowhere. He is English, he is noble, he wouldnt be one to cause a scene.

The carriage stopped after sometime, and you could hear people chattering outside. Your door suddenly opened, but before you could step out, someone stepped in.

It was Silas.

He sat across from you, wearing a formal dress black suit, his hair styled properly. If your dressing didnt give it away, then his did- it was definitely a black-tie event.

He gave you a nod of acknowledgement, looking you up and down.

"Here, wear this." He handed you a velvet lined box. Opening it, you saw a beautiful pearl necklace and matching tear drop earrings.

"Oh, this is... beautiful." You said in awe. "You could've sent this along with the dress, I would've worn my hair differently-"

"No, I didnt want to risk you running off with it." Silas casually insulted you as he began opening the door. "Wear this and dont talk to me or approach me in there."

"Wait, what?" You looked at him confusion.

Silas huffed in irritation. "I'm going to go back inside. You'll walk in after five minutes, and when you do, you will not talk to me, or approach me or do anything that gives away that you know me."

"Silas-" But he left before you could question what he was on about.

So... he wasnt planning on announcing his marriage to you tonight? Wearing the jewellery, you followed his instructions and exited the carriage exactly five minutes later.

But instead of seeing the FitzGeorge house, you were standing in front of a... palace.

A palace you're seen quite a few times.

Buckingham palace.

"What am I...?" You whispered to yourself before composing yourself as other guests began walking past you.

As you ascended the stairs to the entrance where guards stood, you wondered if they'd let you in. Surely, without Silas by your side or an official invitation, they wouldnt let you in. You watched a few guests holding an envelope with a royal seal, an invitation they showed to the guards before being let in.

Heart pounding as you feared the embarrassment you're about to face, you reached the guards who looked at you for a few moments, trying to recognise you before their eyes fell on your necklace and they let you pass.

Ah, so thats why he gave you the jewellery. If you looked like you belonged there, then you probably did.

Why am I here though?

You looked around and saw many people inside, all belonging from high society. This definitely wasnt the place where Silas was going to announce his marriage. So why did he invite you here?

Maybe he wants me to use this as an opportunity to get dirt on high society?

Yes, perhaps, but how would this serve him? Is there a specific person he wants me to get dirt on? Someone I need to write about in the papers?

Silas, what game are you playing?

You spotted him standing in the corner, talking with his cousins and uncles, though you noticed many girls looking at him. Of course, he still is the "most eligible bachelor" to them. If they knew how rude he was, maybe they'd change their opinion.

Walking through the crowd, you began listening on conversations, trying to pick up on interesting bits. It was the usual obnoxious bragging about their wealth, some scandals here and there, disturbing comments about women, etc. Nothing particularly interesting.

Fortunately, you werent bored for long as the royal butler announced the arrival of the hosts. It hadnt truly hit you where you were standing until you heard her name-

"Her Majesty, Queen Victoria-"

Queen Victoria. The Queen Victoria.

You could feel goosebumps raising on your skin, your eyes widening as you realised you're looking at one of the most iconic figures in history. Alive. She's alive and she's walking right in front of you-

She's short. They were right about that. Standing next to her husband, Prince Albert, she looked even shorter. But she looked incredibly happy, full of youth as she stood next to him, unlike all the paintings who depicted her as this angry old widow.

She looked absolutely beautiful.

Her children stood behind her in order, all smiling at their mother. Her daughters, you recognised them all, looked just as beautiful. You recognised her eldest, Edward VII, a 20-something old boy who would end up being hated by his mother and blamed for his father's death. He looked nervous, standing beside her and you could see he was just itching to leave her side and avoid any more scrutiny.

The Queen began speaking.

"Thank you everyone for joining us on this pleasent occasion." She looked around. "Tonight, we are going to welcome a member to our family, even though he has always been a part of us. But now, we will make things official."

"Silas FitzGeorge." She called suddenly. You saw Silas step forward in front of the queen, bowing his head curtly before looking at her confidently.

"You're my cousin Georgie's grandson, and I have no doubt when I say that if he were here tonight, he'd be just as proud of the young man you've become as I am. Our families may have had some issues in the past, but I have always accepted you as a part of me. Over the years, you've only proven me right with how capable you've become on your own, without seeking a helping hand in your adversities. You have made us all immensely proud, as well as your predecessors for being the first man in our family to attend Oxford university. Watching you start businesses and expand your empire, I have no doubt that you will only continue to make the royal family and Britian proud. Therefore, I would like to offer my support and make good on my promise that I made to you when you were a child."

She turned around and a servant handed her a document.

"I hereby make Silas FitzGeorge, the Duke of Westminster."

Oh. Ohhhhh. Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh-

This was Silas's dukedom ceremony. Why is this a huge deal? Because his grandfather, Prince George was once estranged from the royal family and stripped off his royal duties and benefits when he married Sarah Fairbrother, which meant their descendents were all illegitimate and not recognised by the crown.

But tonight, with Silas becoming a duke, its like a welcome back to the family. That too, by the same woman who had in essence- ostracised his family.

And with Dukedom comes other benefits, money, property, influence. Not to mention that Silas has become the duke of Westminster, as in THE WESTMINSTER! One of the wealthiest dukedoms to get, and also where Westminster palace is, the place which is the meeting place for the Parliament of United Kingdom. It'll allows Silas to have a say and play around with politics.

This is a huge gesture by the queen, and if Silas wasnt the most eligible bachelor before, then he definitely is one.

You watched the queen sign the documents first, before giving it to Silas who signed it. Everyone cheered and clapped for the young duke before stopping as Victoria began speaking again.

"Now, I would like to share more good news." She smiled at Silas, who stood beside her now. "I would like to announce the new duke's betrothal to my daughter, Helena."

What?

The guests clapped again as you saw Silas looking ahead, purposely avoiding your gaze. The queen beamed as she looked back at Helena, who was blushing.

So this is why Silas didnt want you to talking to him. He knew he was going to marry Helena, and he didnt want anyone to even doubt that he's associated with you in any way. Is this his way of telling you that the sham marriage between you two has ended?

Victoria encouraged Silas to say a few words.

Silas looked down briefly, a small smile playing on his lips. "Oh, wow. I am grateful that her majesty has awarded me dukedom. I dont have enough words to express how thankful I am to you." He looked up and you saw a mischievous glint in his eyes. "However, I was only informed of this ceremony and not of my betrothal beforehand."

The queen's head snapped in his direction, as did all of the royals, but Silas continued speaking unfazed.

"I wish I had been told about this earlier to avoid this awkward situation uhhh..." he chuckled nervously, but you could see he was anything but nervous. "I am honoured to be even considered for the princess's hand, your majesty, but I'm afraid I am already married." He announced, looking straight at you.

The hall interrupted into gasps and whispers before they parted the way to let Silas make his walk to you.

With a charming smile, a dimple on his left cheek, he approached you, pulling you into his arms as he leaned down to press a kiss to your temple.

"Hi, sweetheart." He whispered loud enough for the onlookers to hear. Your eyes widened, your face flushed at the feeling of everyone's eyes and at his word.

"Si-" The words died down your throat as he placed an arm around your back and pulled you close to his side, showing you off.

"This is Y/n, my darling wife."

With Silas's announcement, the hall went silent once again. Your throat went dry at being put in the spotlight, and your eyes flickered from one guest to another, until finally falling on the queen's, who looked... pissed.

Finally, it was Prince Albert who broke the silence and announced dinner had been served. As the guests began walking out of the hall, Silas lead you out of the palace and to the carriage where his grandmother was waiting for you.

"Go home, now. I'll see you soon." Was all Silas said to you before whispering something to his grandmother, who beamed and nodded, patting his cheek.

"Come on, Y/n. Its getting late, now." Sarah said as she lead you into the carriage, taking her seat next to you, completely unaware of the eyes that had been following you since the moment you'd left home.

Silas returned inside, seeing his uncles smirking with pride at the game he'd just played but instead of going to them to celebrate his victory, he went to Prince Albert and Queen Victoria who seemed to be arguing in a low tone in the corner while the guests were being seated in the dining hall.

Clearing his throat, he got their attention.

"Your majesties, I am so sorry for not informing you about my union with Y/n. Its just my wife is terribly shy and we wanted to keep this marriage a secret. But I understand how this creates an embarrassing situation for the crown, and I would like to humbly turn down my dukedom-"

"No." The queen cut him off, her eyes void of any emotion. "The dukedom was awarded to you for your achievements, not because you were asked to marry my daughter. Helena is not something to pawn off to just anyone."

Silas offered a sympathetic smile. "Of course, your majesty. I'm sure you'll find a better suitor for the princess." He took his bow before turning around to enter the dining hall while Victoria stared at his back.

"Are you really still going to keep him as the duke of Westminster?" Albert asked his wife.

She was fuming. But only Albert could tell.

"What choice did I have?" Victoria asked, still glaring at the young boy who dared to play her. "If I took the dukedom away after announcing it publicly, it would've been a far more embarrassment for the crown. They would call us "cheap"."

"We cant let him get away with it." Albert whispered. "Its Westminster. We may rule it, but the duke will still be able to influence the government."

"You think I'm not aware he wants to play politics?" Victoria snapped, before softening her tone. "I wont let him get away with it, Albert. He's just a boy. I am a queen. I wont let him or anyone humiliate us."

Silas sat down besides his cousins as his uncles raised their glasses to him. He sipped his drink, a satisfied grin resting on his face. He knew exactly what he did. Even though no one actually told him that the dukedom came with marriage to the princess, because how callous would it be to ask him to marry her when no one would give up the opportunity of becoming the queen's son-in-law, Silas knew he was expected to marry Helena.

But no one said it. No one asked him. Its the English, they never say what they mean outright, choosing to read between the lines and do what is expected of them, because its more artful, more honourable this way.

Not that Silas could care about traditions. Why would he, when he planned on exacting his revenge?

The queen only came to offer her support when he became successful enough on his own. Where was she when his parents died and his sister was left to take care of him? Sure, Victoria attended the funeral and "promised" to take care of him. But she also said she'd only do that if he proved himself. His grandmother and his sister, Daisy were the ones who raised him.

And now, years later when he got into Oxford without using his family name, without saying "I am related to the queen", when he used his skills to create a powerful business empire that has the potential to influence the British industries, she wants him?

Sure, Westminster has its benefits, but Silas doesnt need Westminster. Westminster needs Silas. He could topple over the government and even shut down Britain herself with just his influence alone. Being a duke just has given him a public platform, an acknowledgement and most importantly, backing from the crown.

And you? Marrying you wasnt just because you happened to be around. Oh no. Silas has plans for you, plans to use you and further his revenge. This is just the beginning.

Sarah dropped you back at your place after you insisted that you needed to inform your flatmates of your departure. She gave you a disapproving look when she found out you were living with 4 men and was very determined to have you move in with her and Silas at the FitzGeorge estate, but you were able to persuade her to let you stay the night at home one last time.

"There's something I need to tell you guys." You fiddled with your thumbs as they all sat down in front of you.

"I um... I'm married."

"What?" Shepherd asked. "And you still went on a date?"

"I went on a date with my husband-"

"And who is that?"

You took a deep breath.

"Silas FitzGeorge."

Everyone except for Benjamin broke into laughter.

"Yeah, good one. Seriously, who is it?"

You frowned. "Seriously. Its Silas FitzGeorge."

As you began explaining your situation, even showing them the jewellery that you definitely werent wearing before you left, they started to believe you.

"Y/n- you cant- you cant marry Silas. You cant just marry someone you barely know!" Colin argued.

"What? Havent you heard of "love at first sight"?" You ask but he was unamused. Sighing, you shrugged. "Look, its a marriage that will benefit us both mutually. He gets people nagging him to get married off his back and I get to use his money and influence to get dirt on high society! Besides, I can leave him anytime I want."

"Then leave him now, before its too late." Ben said, standing up as he approached you. He took your shoulders and gave them a firm squeeze. "If its money you're worried about, I'll help you. I can provide for you, Y/n. Dont get into bed with these rich bastards, you dont know how selfish they can be. I- I- dont want you to get hurt-"

"I wont, Benny." You grab his arms, assuring him. "Silas and I are working together. If I go down, so will he. He wont hurt me, he cant. Its too risky for him now, you know? He announced our marriage tonight in front of the queen!"

As you began telling him about how you met the queen and all, Colin quietly left the living room to pour himself another drink, something to knock his brain out so he doesnt have to think about you and Silas.

Next day, before the sun even rose, you had packed up a few of your things to go live with the FitzGeorges. All the boys were awake at that time, though Colin's eyes were bloodshot from apparently drinking the wrong liqour, so he sat quietly on the sofa, watching you.

Liam and Shepherd took your bags to put it in the carriage waiting outside, while Ben pulled you in for a hug.

"I'm just moving out, Benny! I'll still see you guys." You laugh, patting his back.

Ben kissed the crown of your head before tucking it under his chin, arms tightening around you. "Just know that you will always have a home here, with us. Dont hesitate to reach out for help. And if Silas or anyone every hurts you, I dont care how rich they are, Y/n. I will take care of them. You just- just come back to us, hm?"

You pulled away from him, wiping a lone tear from your eye. "You're the best, Benny." You whisper before going to Colin, who just stared at you with red eyes.

Leaning down, you poked his cheek. "Kinda wish you werent drunk when I said goodbye, but I guess it makes it easier." Colin continued to stare at you. You grabbed his hand, smiling gratefully at him. "Thank you for everything, Colin. You saved me. Truly." You gave his hand a firm squeeze before leaving, missing him mumble something under his breath.

The carriage took you to the FitzGeorge estate and you were a little disappointed to see only Sarah waiting to welcome you. Its not like you wanted Silas to make a grand gesture to welcome his bride, but you were kinda hoping he was going to ease you into his world while explaining the events of the previous night.

Sarah showed you around the house before leading you to Silas bedroom.

"Cadbury has already placed your bags in there." She turned to you. "This will be your space too, so do make changes to the place as you please."

You smiled shyly at her. Honestly, you dont know whether Sarah knows that Silas only married you for personal agenda, but she wasnt surprised when Silas announced you were his wife.

Sarah looked at you and she placed a hand on her chest, touched.

"Oh, I am so glad you're Silas's girl."

Silas's girl?

"When Silas told me he married you, I was only mad that he did it behind my back! But I suppose it is understandable... these FitzGeorge men always liked to make a statement when it came to love." Sarah said, fondly remembering her late husband.

Sarah continued to gush about you enough for you to know that you dont need to kiss her ass. You have her approval.

When she left, you looked around the large bedroom, Victorian and dark academia was the aesthetic. Wooden panels lined the room, the shelves were stocked with thick books, a study table in one corner, an ottoman chest seat in front of the bed. The entire room was illuminated by the large windows that opened into the balcony, overlooking the large gardens and the cold air of London.

Standing at his balcony, you couldnt help but wonder...

Silas definitely has to HAVE a mega douchebag personality if this was where he was raised.

I mean who wouldnt have an ego trip if they woke up to a view like this, a butler named CADBURY who probably brings him his bland tea and tells him about all the proposals he had, and Silas would just wave a hand in dismissal, telling his butler to reject them all on his behalf.

Silas lived like a king. Or at the very least, lived like the 1% of Britain.

Returning back into the room, you looked at the interior before a grin formed on your face.

Time to snoop around, Y/n. You made your way to his desk.

Lets see what secrets you're hiding, husband.

Silas walked in on you folding your clothes and placing them in his closet.

"What do you think you're doing?" He huffed, loosening his tie. He was still in his clothes from last night, having just returned home after celebrating with his uncles and cousins.

You turned to him, faking enthusiasm. "Hello to you too."

Silas rolled his eyes, sitting on his bed. "Dont touch my things." He began untying his shoes.

"Why? You worried my poverty would taint them?"

He looked you dead in the eyes.

"Yes."

"Haha." You close the closet and turn to him. "We need to talk."

He looked at you miserably. "Cant it wait-" "No."

"Fine, then. Go on, I'm listening." He leaned against the headboard while you took your place on the foot of the bed.

"Why didn't you tell me last night that we were going to the palace? Or that you were going to announce our marriage?"

Tired eyes looked at you. "I didnt want to risk you getting cold feet."

Okay. Fair enough.

You gave him a nod. "Fine. Still would've liked a heads-up." "I'll keep that in mind for next time. Good night-" He began closing his eyes when you spoke again.

"No. We still need to talk about our situation." You looked at your lap, smoothing your dress before looking at him again, only to find his tired eyes studying you.

"Silas, who knows that our marriage is not... real?"

"It is a real marriage. We signed proper documents and all." He told you. "What you mean to ask is who knows our marriage is like mutually beneficial business deal? The answer is- no one, except for my butler and his wife, who wont say a word. And I want it to stay that way."

You raised a brow. "So... what exactly is the image you're trying to sell to the world? That we're a young couple, madly in love?"

He shrugged. "Sure."

"Silas." Your tone turned serious. "If you want people to believe this fairytale you're creating, then you need to get your stories straight. And involve me in it too!"

He tilted his head at you before sighing. "Fine. Lets say... we met two months ago."

"Where?"

He grinned. "Ballet theatre. Near Oxford university."

"Ballet theatre- are you trying to use your grandparents story?"

He shrugged. "So what if I am? Besides, people will love it."

You glared at him, but he continued on with his story. "So we met at the ballet theatre, you fell madly in love with me the first time you saw me. Your exact words were- "Jesus Christ and Heavenly Father, have I died and went to heaven to witness the utter beauty of an angel-"

"I have seen rodents looking better than you." You cut him off.

"You're ruining my story." He scolded you. "Fine, we can say that after you were mesmerised by my beauty, you stalked me for a few weeks until I finally said yes out of pity-"

"Silas."

He raised his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright. I'll leave the details to you, just remember- we met at the theatre. Thats the most important part of the story."

"Okay, I'll add my version of the events, which you can read in the papers in a day or two." You stood up, walking over to the vanity. "I will be going to work from tomorrow. I'll tell your grandmother I'm going to visit some friends, and you'll drop me off at my old place where I'll change my clothes and then I'll go to the office."

"Very well." He turned his head to look at you. "But after you're done writing about us, continue working on the White Chapel murders."

You hummed, turning around. "Dont worry, I should be able to get access to the letters in a few days. Wait- Silas, didnt you say your friend owned the paper I worked for?" He nodded. "Well, can you ask him if he could let me, I mean- assign Sherlock Holmes to work on the case? You could bribe him with giving an exclusive interview about your marriage for the papers, in return, he has to let me work the murder story."

"Consider it done." Silas said, putting his arm over his eyes.

"Um, Silas?"

"What?" He asked, annoyed.

"Where am I to sleep?" With Sarah in the house, its not like you can occupy another room. It'll raise suspicion.

Silas removed his arm to look at you, before looking at his large bed.

You shake your head. "I am not sleeping in the same bed with you-"

"I wouldnt want that either." He said, grabbing a pillow. Your heart warmed at the gesture. He really was going to leave his bed for you, like the true gentleman-

Thud.

You looked at the pillow he'd thrown on the floor.

"There." He pointed before returning to bed.

"You want me to sleep on the floor?"

With his eyes closed, he replied. "You say that like you expected me to sleep on the floor."

"Well-"

"Its my room, my bed. Why would I sleep on the floor?"

"I dont know, whats the word- chivalry?!" You huffed, grabbing the pillow and walking near the closed balcony window. It was cold but you'd rather sleep with a pretty view than to wake up to Silas feet landing on your face.

Muttering curses under your breath, you soon fell asleep with your back turned to Silas. A few minutes later, he got off the bed and dropped a blanket on your sleeping body.

And they say chivalry is dead. He thought to himself, returning to his bed.

The next day, while dropping you off to work, you brought up the previous day's convo.

"I need something." Silas's gaze flickered from the window of the carriage to you. "What do you know about Henry Blackwood?"

Silas' looked bored again. "He's a fellow businessman, invests in people rather than companies, likes to keep his operations in the dark, which means he has secrets. His shop blew up some time ago, allegedly a "technical failure" but... I think someone did it."

"You think so too?" You asked, hopeful. "Do you know who?"

Silas shook his head. "No. His enemies, like his operations are secret. All I know is someone did it to send a message to him, blew up the shop deliberately while he was out."

A message?

"I want to get dirt on him." You watch Silas raise a brow at you. "Just... get me close to him, or to his people. I saw him talking to your uncles, maybe they know something?"

Silas shakes his head again. "My uncles talk to anyone who has money. Henry wouldnt ever invest in them, they couldnt manage a business for the life of them."

"And you? Would Henry invest in you?"

Silas nodded. "He's tried. I wasnt interested." He cut you off before you could even suggest the idea. "And I'm still not interested. But I'll get you close to him."

"Thank you." You settled back in your seat before remembering another request. "Silas?"

"What now?"

"Can I have some money?"

"Here's a pound-" You glared at him, making him sigh. "How much?"

"Mmhm, oh I dont know... just enough to buy a small house-"

"And why do you need a house?"

You looked at him dumbfounded. "Well, when our marriage goes to the sewers, I would like to have a roof over my head."

"And what if I say I dont intend on ending this marriage?" Your blood ran cold at his words.

"What?"

Silas tilted his head at you before chuckling. "Why have you turned pale? If anyone should be horrified at the prospect of staying married in this mismatch, completely unbalanced relationship, it should be me. Struck down, caught out of the lake in his prime, of both beauty and brain-"

"Oh God, please stop talking before blood starts pouring out of my ears."

"So you agree your voice is irritating enough to do that?" Silas remarked smirking.

"Shut up." You flared your nostrils at him. Why does he have to ruin my mood this early in the day?

He chuckled victoriously, looking out the window. "I'll get you the house. You dont need money for it." He looked at you, already knowing you'd be confused. He grinned, pointing to himself. "Duke of Westminster-" he then points at you. "Duchess of Westminster."

Of course. Now that you're married to the duke, you have a whole lot of land in your hands. You really can have a house anywhere you'd like.

The carriage stopped. "Off you go now, wife."

Entering the office, you were first greeted by Will, the man in charge on working on the White Chapel murders.

"Holmes! How did you do it?" He shook you by the shoulder gleefully. "How did you convince the boss to post my story next?!"

I married his friend. "Oh, I just... promised him an article. Once I give him that, we can work together on the murder story."

He nodded, ushering you to finish off your article first before helping him.

Making your way to your desk, you spotted Colin. "Hey, Colin-" But he walked right past you, as if he didnt hear you.

Maybe he didnt. You shrugged, sitting down at your desk as you began writing down the news about you and Silas.

"Oh, Mr Holmes has definitely written most accurately about you Y/n!" Sarah said as she read the papers at the breakfast table. "He calls you the "fairest maiden in town" and "beauty with brains"- oh, I couldnt agree more!"

You smiled, sipping your tea sheepishly while Silas rolled his eyes. Its been 3 days since you wrote an article announcing your marriage to the world, and the editor decided to post it on Sunday, when you and most of London had off from work, all tuning in to read "how the most eligible bachelor bagged the fairest maiden in town."

Sarah ate some of the dishes you'd prepared today. "These are absolutely delicious, Y/n! Silas, your wife-" A maid came in to inform her that there's someone at the door to meet her. As Sarah excused herself, you got up from your seat to serve Silas the food you'd made on Sarah's request.

Silas picked up his fork and took a bite, a smile forming on his lips.

"Have I ever told you how good of a cook you are?"

You blushed, looking down. "No-"

"Then why do you keep cooking?" He dropped his fork on the plate, pushing it aside. "Stop using my kitchen." He smirked as he drank his tea, watching rage take over your face.

"Listen you twat-"

Sarah came back rushing in, a worried look on her face. Silas immediately sat up. "What is it, nana?"

"The- there was someone here from the palace." She gulped. "They sent flowers and a letter congratulating you two on the marriage. They... they said they'd like to meet Y/n and- and welcome the new couple officially."

Silas understood Sarah's worry. The palace never writes to them. In fact, the last time they did, it was years ago when his parents had died.

Getting up from his seat, Silas wiped his face with a napkin before dropping it on the table. "Then we'll let them. We shall host the Queen."

"Si-" But he took her by the shoulders, easing Sarah's worry.

"Dont worry. This is our home, nana." We have the advantage.

Silas left to start making arrangements for hosting the queen at the estate, while Sarah ran around the house with the staff to prepare for the event that is a week from now. Seeing as you couldnt be of use there and everyone was too busy to give you any pointers on what to say or act when the queen arrives, you left the estate to explore the town. Or more specifically, return to the blown up vintage store.

Yep, you're still hoping your time machine survived.

When you arrived on Regent street, you saw the same men still guarding the store, so they probably still wouldn't have let you in. But you also saw Henry, who was leaving the store and in his carriage.

Deciding to follow him, you sneaked into the back of someone's carriage and rode it before jumping off it when it got near Henry's carriage. Fortunately, you didnt have to follow him for long as he got off on Piccadilly street soon and strolled into a place called "The Gentlemen's Club" and from the looks of the daunting bouncers standing outside, you knew you couldnt just stroll in like Henry.

You watched the people who seemed to walk into the club, mostly men, all dressed formally and looked like they were a part of the high society. You saw some women too, though most of them dressed scandalously, so you assume they were there to provide entertainment.

As the sun began setting, more and more people started entering the club and just when you were about to leave, you saw Henry walk out of the club, a frown settled on his face. You werent expecting him to leave the club so soon, not when more people had started going in there, to rave or whatever. If Henry was here for pleasure, then he came out too early. If he was here for business, then most of the club goers have just begun entering, which means that whoever he wanted to conduct business with was already in there. Someone who works at the club... maybe even owns it?

As you turned to leave, you felt someone bump into you.

"Watch where you're going!" The blonde haired woman shrieked at you before crossing the street to go to the club.

You huffed. Everyone's got a giant stick up their-

You whipped your head around, feeling someone watching you. And thats when you spot it- a shadowy figure of a man, standing in the window of the club, on the second floor. Henry? No, he left. Then...?

The shadow didnt move, staring at you until it creeped you enough to make you leave.

Silas finally sat down after working all day. Cadbury brought him his evening tea.

"How are the preparations coming along?" He asked his butler. Cadbury informed him of the arrangements he's made and the guest list he's written down that needs his approval before he sends out the invitations.

"And the seamstress will come tomorrow to make a gown for Miss Y/n-"

Silas cut him off. "No need. Send the seamstress to me first. I'll let her know what kind of clothes need to be made for the event, then she can take Y/n's measurements."

"As you wish, sir." Cadbury said, but Silas could see something troubling the young butler. They werent that apart in age, and both of them had practically grown together, each reading the other person well.

"What's the matter, Cadbury?" Silas set his teacup down.

Cadbury took a deep breath. "Its just- I dont understand why the palace is suddenly coming to visit you, after what happened at the dukedom ceremony. It was certainly... humiliating for them, so why would they be coming to welcome Miss Y/n into the family?"

Silas grinned. "They're coming to see who I replaced the princess with." He picked up his cup. "They couldnt break me down, so they're going to try their luck with the missus. There's another reason why the queen is coming, but you let me worry about that."

Cadbury looked concerned. "Then we should prepare Miss Y/n to make no mistakes."

"Dont worry, she wont." Silas smiled, making his butler even more confused. "Speaking of, did you observe her when she was cooking in the kitchen today?"

Cadbury nodded. "Yes. And as you'd said, she didnt touch, let alone cook with bacon or wine despite my insistence that its your favourite. She replaced the meats, and didnt use any alcohol at all!"

Silas chuckled, his eyes gleaming with intent. "Perfect. Just as I'd suspected." He looked at Cadbury again. "Are there any leftovers from the food she'd made?"

"Yes. I was about to throw it out-"

"No. Bring them to me. I'll eat them. If Y/n asks, tell her you fed it to the dogs and then they got violently sick." Cadbury was confused as he left to bring him the food. He thought that Silas didnt like your cooking, at least from what he'd heard him say to you.

Oh. Maybe the young duke just doesnt want to acknowledge that he enjoyed your food.

A week passed by quickly and the day of the royal dinner came. You were freaking out because Silas had barely spoken two words to you about how to act or what to say, just telling you to act as yourself and he'll take care of the rest.

"What the hell...?" You muttered, watching your reflection in the mirror. Okay, you're not a conservative, but even you knew that this plunging neckline was a little too much skin for this time period, especially in front of the queen!

You were wearing a white satin and lace gown- wedding gown, if you were being honest. All that was missing was a veil, but you guess that would be a little too much on the nose. The dress was beautiful, no doubt, but it was missing a whole lot of cloth around the neckline, the tight corset making your chest puff out slightly more with a snatched waist. Your collar bones looked prominent, but you would credit that to the bland food served in London. Seriously, why do they act like vampires when it comes to adding garlic?

"Your husband had this dress designed specifically for you, madame!" The seamstress told you as she added her finishing touches. "He must love you a lot!" You resisted the urge to roll your eyes as you wore the jewellery he'd sent for you.

Yes. Thats why I sleep on the floor while he sleeps in his bed. Hope he suffocates under those plush sheets. My backache is the sign of our true love.

"Oh, who did that to your hair?" You heard a voice behind you and you turned around quickly.

"Benny!" You squealed, watching Ben, Liam, Shepherd and Colin enter your room. "Ah, I'm so glad you all came."

"Of course we did. There's free booze-" Shepherd smacked Liam on the back of his head. "We're here because we're happy for you."

"And because they wanted to see the queen." Colin said, rolling his eyes, making the other two bicker with him.

"How's Silas treating you? Are you happy?" Ben asked in a low tone as he fixes your hair.

Oh Ben. He reminds you so much of Qasim. "Yes, Benny. Silas is very good to me. I couldnt be happier."

Ben had a sad smile on his face as he nodded.

Just a few minutes later, Silas entered your room. "Y/n. Gentlemen." He nodded to them, before pulling you aside. "I need to talk to you."

You looked at him surprised. Silas was concerned. He was nervous about something. You've never seen him break a sweat.

"What is it, Silas?"

"The queen is onto us."

"What?"

Silas looked at you exasperated. "She knows about our sham marriage." He casted a look to the boys, who were pretending like they werent trying to hear what he was whispering to you. Silas pulled you close by your elbow to whisper. "I have a source telling me that the queen knows you... you're not a Christian. That you're a Muslim."

You pull back to look at him wide eyed. "How- how did she- how did you-?"

"I suspected, you confirmed it now. But she knows. And she's coming here tonight to expose us. If she tells everyone tonight, then she'll be able to take away my dukedom and she will make our lives hell!"

Your throat went dry. "What- what do we do?"

"There's a way." Silas grip on your arm tightened. "We get married for real."

You tilted your head in confusion before shaking your head at what he was implying. "Silas, no-"

"We get a Nikkah."

A Nikkah? If... if you get a Nikkah with him, an Islamic wedding ceremony, then you'll be married to him for real. No- no, the only reason you'd agreed to his proposal was because you knew it was a fake marriage, it didnt really affect your conscious because it was a sham! But-

"No. Silas-"

"Y/n, please." Silas pleaded. "Dont make me beg. If the queen finds out, everything I've worked so hard for, it'll be for naught. She'll take it all away. Dont you- dont you want to help catch the lunatic behind those murders? Dont you want to make a difference by writing? If you dont do this, if you dont stand by me, we'll both be done for!"

You looked at him conflicted, your resolve starting to break as he continued to talk. "My sister, my parents, my grandfather... my family... they need me, Y/n. They need me to pull this off, for me to reinstate our honour, for me to remove the stain and stigma from my family's name. Please, I'm asking you to do this for me... for my family." He swallowed thickly, his eyes boring into you with intensity. "You once told me you lost everything. I'm telling you now that I'll lose everything if we dont do this. Will you let me lose everything, Y/n?"

Lose everything? Everything?

You shake your head. "No, Silas. I... I wont let you lose everything."

10 minutes later, there was an imam in your room. Silas had somehow managed to find an imam in London to marry you two off. But you suppose when you're so rich and well connected, you can find anyone.

This is happening. This is really happening.

With Ben, Colin, Liam and Shepherd as your witnesses and Cadbury and his wife as Silas's witnesses, the imam began the Nikkah ceremony.

Am I really getting married?

You watched the imam ask Silas some questions, and you tuned them out except for one.

"Are you a Muslim?"

You looked up. A flicker of hope! Yes! If Silas isnt a Muslim, he cant marry you! The Nikkah wont happen, or at the very least wont be real because he's not Muslim! He cant marry you, this will still be a sham marriage, a paper marriage and your conscious will be clear and you wont feel like throwing up-

"Yes. I converted an hour ago." Silas informed the imam. "I took my shahada, in sound mind and state, of my own will without any pressure or coercion."

No. Oh no-

"Do you take Y/n to be your wife?"

"I do."

"Do you take Y/n to be your wife?" The imam repeated.

"I do."

"Do you take Y/n to be your wife?" He asked again.

"I do." And with that, Silas signed the Nikkah contract. The officiant then turned to you.

"With the agreed mahr, do you take Silas to be your husband?"

"Mahr?" You whisper in a daze. The officiant looks confused. "Do you not know what your mahr is?"

Mahr is a gift to the bride given by the groom. It is a symbol of the groom's promise to care and provide for the bride. You're more surprised that Silas even knew what Mahr is.

"It must've slipped my mind to tell you." Silas looked at Cadbury, who handed him a document. "For your Mahr, I give you Westminster palace." You looked at the document, he really had signed it over to you!

"Silas..." You say in disbelief, your hands trembling a bit. He smiled reassuringly at you. "You wanted a house. Here's one."

House? He gave me a palace!

"Do you take Silas to be your husband?" The imam asked you. You stared at Silas, at his content face. He didnt have to sign over a whole palace to you, much less one which he'd just gotten from the queen!

And he looked perfectly content with his decision. Not a shadow of doubt. He... he trusts you? Trusts that you'll maintain this union? Wont run out on him- wont betray him?

"I do."

Does he believe that this marriage will last?

"I do."

Does he trust you?

"I do."

You signed the papers, your eyes still in a daze as Silas smiles charmingly at you before pulling you close to hug you. You hear everyone clap around you as he leans down to whisper in your ear.

"Thank you."

Silas escorted you to the dining room where all the guests were waiting. You were still quiet and in a trance as you walked by him, with your hand around his arm.

He's surprised it didnt make you suspicious with how quickly he'd found an imam. Truthfully speaking, Silas knew you were a Muslim when he first proposed to you. He had his doubts, which were confirmed by his observations especially with your aversion to foods that were forbidden for Muslims. And yes, the queen had also found out about you being a Muslim, but only because he spread the rumour to them.

The Nikkah documents, the ceremony, the Mahr, he had already planned it the moment he found out that the queen was coming over. And the reason why he waited until the last minute to spring this out on you was so that you would be pressured into saying yes. He just couldnt risk you taking time to think this through.

You may still be under the impression that Silas chose you because it was circumstantial or whatever, but he chose you to be his wife precisely because you were a Muslim. Oh he has plans to use you.

You're everything the English monarchy hates, what it stands for. You're not prim and proper, despite your best attempts. You work, that too disguised as a man, and you're far too strong willed and determined to prove yourself unlike the British high society women.

He knows the crown wont be happy to have Muslim bride in the family, much less a Muslim duke who just so happily signed off Westminster palace to his wife.

A Cheshire grin graced his lips, which people mistook for glee for being with his blushing bride. He's going to have fun ruffling the queen's feathers. He's going to tilt the palace upside down.

Curtsying to the queen, Silas immediately noticed and took great pleasure in the queen's displeasure at your dress. Yes, he specifically chose a wedding gown that showed too much skin for the conservative monarch.

"Your majesty, this is Y/n, my sweetheart." Silas introduced you so lovingly, you couldnt help but be flustered as you avert your eyes to the ground.

"Its an honour to meet you, your majesty." You manage to say without throwing up.

Victoria casted one unamused look to you. "Very interesting choice for clothing."

Oh shit. Shit. Shit. She hates it. I knew it-

Silas's hand gently grasped yours. "Thank you, your majesty. I chose it for her after being inspired by a painting my love gifted me. Ah, let me show it to you."

You already knew it was the stupid portrait he was talking about, and you wanted to hide away into a corner as you saw the disapproval on the queen's face- God, she doesnt mask any emotion, does she?

The queen turned to Silas. "I have heard a rumour and I would like you to address it now." She said, glancing at you.

Silas nodded, leaning down to press a kiss to your temple. "Why dont you go and help nana with the guests? I'll be right with you."

Sarah was introducing to the guests, but your head was preoccupied with Silas and the queen. They are definitely talking about me-

"Y/n, this is Mr Blackwood." You stared at the familiar face. "Oh please, Sarah. No need to be formal with me." He smiled charmingly. "Besides, miss Y/n and I have met before."

"Well, thats wonderful! You two talk- I have to find my troublesome grandsons before they embarrass me!" Sarah left you with Henry.

"Congratulations on your wedding." He said with exaggerated joy, though his eyes expressed anything but that. "I'm sure he offered you a lot of money for putting up a show. I just wish you'd told me about it before."

"Excuse me?" You frowned. "I'm not putting up a show."

He raised a brow. "Really? You expect me to believe that a FitzGeorge wants to marry you? Out of the blue?" He throws a look to your gown. "That this wedding dress wasnt him trying to just convince the world that you're his wife?"

Your jaw ticked. "You're right. This dress is Silas's way telling everyone we're married. Because we were married on paper before, but I have an imam, 4 witnesses and a Nikkah document stating that Silas and I are married, both in the eyes of the law and God." You watched Henry's face fall. What use was it lying when he already heard of the rumours. Rolling your eyes, you turned to leave, only for him to reach out and grab your arm.

"Why are you doing this?" Henry asked you, looking for any signs of you lying. He didnt find any. "You know you dont belong with him-"

"Oh? I dont?" You snapped. "Who do I belong with? No, go on. Tell me."

He pulled you close, looking into your eyes. "Me. You belong to me. You know it, you felt it- we have something. We have-" He lowered his voice. "I can give you everything you want. Whatever you'd lost in my shop, I'll find it again. I'll travel the world for it, just- come to me. Leave Silas."

"That is the most pathetic thing I've heard come out of a man's mouth." You yanked your hand out of his grasp, walking away from him. The next time you saw him, he was busy talking with Victoria's heir- Prince Edward VII.

"Sweetheart, there you are!" Silas grabbed you, pulling you along. "I was just telling her majesty about how we met. You remember, love?" He shot you a knowing look.

You nodded, remembering what you two had practised. "Yes. We met at the ballet theatre near Oxford. It was love at first sight-"

"Ballet theatre?" Victoria's voice was sharp. Your heart dropped as you tried to follow up on your lie. See, this is why you two should've discussed this because its hard to lie on the spot!

"She's an amazing ballerina! Ah! I was immediately charmed by her art! She bewitched me!" Silas said cheekily and you wanted to smack him for saying "bewitched" because this is still Victorian era and sure, they dont have witch trials anymore, but why would he risk even the accusation when it is literally the queen's ancestors who had a major part in burning up "witches" in the 1600s!

Look, people back then were dumb and evil, which is a really bad combination.

"Is she now?" Victoria looked at you now, with those piercing eyes. "I would love to attend a show of yours. See what these FitzGeorges fancy so much."

Oh she knows. You can see it, hear it in her monotonous voice that she knows Silas is lying.

And yet this dumbass continues to lie. "Of course! We'll host you for... Christmas eve?"

As Victoria left, you glared at Silas. "Why would you say that?! I'm not a ballerina and you invited her to watch me dance? Do you want to get caught?!"

Silas tutted at you. "You worry too much. Its not that hard, you know. Besides, you have my grandmother to teach you. Ah yes, nana will love it-"

"Silas!" You stopped him. "I cant learn ballet in a month!"

"Not with that attitude-"

"We will get caught. You will be caught, and I will be embarrassed and- and- I wont let anyone make a fool out of me, Silas!" He pulled you into his chest, shushing you.

"I wont let anyone make a fool out of you either, Y/n." He pulled your head back to look at you with those deceptively charming eyes. "You carry my name next to yours now. You're my wife now, and by association, your dignity is my dignity now. I wont let anyone make a mockery of us, Y/n."

You looked up at him and you believed him. How could you not, when lying comes so easily to Silas?

He watched Sarah console you, promising to help you learn. Silas his his smile as he picked up his glass, enjoying his plan falling into place.

Ah, it would be a pity to see your heart break when the entire theatre laughs at you.

Thoughts????

#time traveller au #yandere x darling #yandere #yandere male #male yandere #yandere boyfriend #soft yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x y/n #silas my oc

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adorsturns · 2 months ago

Text

𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐎𝐎 𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐓!𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓 𝐇𝐂'𝐒

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : tattoo artist!matt × reader

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : curse words, oral (fem receiving), unprotected sex (wrap b4 u tap kids!!), degrading, marking, fingering.

𝐚/𝐧 : dare i say tattoo artist!matt> fratboy!chris :0

×××

NOT PROOF READ!!!

SFW

ᡴꫂ

tattoo artist!matt who assigned you a nickname based on your first design with him...

matt greets you as you walk in, “rose! y’ready for your next session?”

you roll your eyes smirking, “guess I’m stuck with this nickname now.”

“wouldn’t have it any other way,” he replies,

tattoo artist!matt who gives you deliberate touches...

matt’s touch is steady and careful while tatting you up, but there’s a subtle warmth in the way his fingers graze your skin. he doesn’t hide the fact that he enjoys the closeness, his hands lingering just a bit longer than necessary.

“you’ve got such soft skin. makes me want to take my time with this tattoo.”

you smile knowingly, “just the tattoo?”

he chuckles softly, his eyes not leaving your skin “for now atleast”

tattoo artist!matt who offers constant reassurance...

when you start to tense up, matt leans in close, softly and reassuringly. he only wants for you to be comfortable.

you wince at the inking machine “i know, i know. relax, you’re doing great. just breathe.”

“easier said than done,” you reply, trying to steady your breath.

“don’t worry, I’ve got you,” he says, his voice calm, almost protective.

tattoo artist!matt who loves to tease you...

matt can’t resist throwing in some light, flirty comments while he works. his teasing is so natural, and lightens the mood when youre on the verge of tears from the pain of the tattoo gun.

“you’re handling this like a badass. i knew you’d be tough.”

“tougher than I look?” you question, raising an eyebrow.

“for sure,” he grins, “but youre definitely tougher than you think you are”

tattoo artist!matt who showers you in compliments...

matt doesn’t shy away from complimenting you, but his words are genuine and gentlemanly. he makes it clear that he finds you attractive in a way that feels flattering rather than awkward.

“this design looks amazing on you. but I’m not surprised —you pull it off effortlessly”

you laugh, “y’think?”

“yeah,” he replies with a wink that sends butterflies to your stomach.

tattoo artist!matt who stays comfortably close to you...

matt stands close enough that you can feel his presence without it being overwhelming. you find comfort in how he invades your space, making it feel more intimate.

“i need to get in close for this part. let me know if you get uncomfortable.”

“you’re fine,” you assure him, trying to ignore the flutter in your chest.

“good,” he says, his voice low, “because i wasn't planning on going anywhere.”

tattoo artist!matt who admires his work...

after finishing the tattoo, matt takes a moment to admire his work on your skin. his compliments are genuine, and he makes you feel appreciated.

“its perfect, you're perfect”

you blush, brushing off his comment “yeah it stings like a bitch though”

tattoo artist!matt who hints at his interest in you...

when discussing how to take care of your new ink, matt casually hints that he wouldn’t mind seeing you again. you think hes joking, but theres a part of you that thinks he isnt.

“take good care of it, and let me know if you need any help with the healing.”

“i think i got it, but I’ll keep your offer in mind,” you reply, meeting his eyes.

“i wouldn’t mind checking in on it... and you,” he says with a playful look on his face.

tattoo artist!matt who will always return your eye contact...

matt holds your gaze whenever he talks to you, his eyes full of warmth. it’s like he’s trying to see how long you can hold his eyes before you look away.

“you keep looking at me like that, and I might start thinking you enjoy this a little too much,” you tease

he laughs, shrugging “maybe I do”

“in that case, i’ll make sure it’s worth your while,” you say, biting your bottom lip.

NSFW

ᡴꫂ

tattoo artist!matt who takes you to his loft above his tattoo salon...

matt takes you by the hand, upstairs to what seems like a loft. as soon as he closes the door behind him matt leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was both hungry and passionate. you could feel the heat of his body against yours,

“so do you bring all your clients up here?” you manage to get out between the heated kiss.

“only the cute ones” matt teases, pushing you up against the wall and having your legs wrap around him.

tattoo artist!matt who eats you out like theres no tomorrow...

your pussy throbs against matts toungue as he holds you still by your thighs. he kitten licks your cunt, biting your clit which made you jolt your hips upwards in both pain and pleasure. it hadnt even been a minute till you came all over his toungue. matt didnt care though, in fact, he degraded you for it,

“you are such a little slut, i just started and you're already a mess for me arent you rose?” he said in a faux sympathetic tone.

tattoo artist!matt who loves watching his fingers slide in and out of you...

you lay flat on your back, matt between your thighs with two of his digits in your walls. his mouth hung open as he watched them slip in and out with ease, and how your face contorted each time he curled them upwards, grazing your g-spot. matt couldnt help but smile at how pretty you looked, all dumb on his fingers.

tattoo artist!matt who marks your body...

matts lips connect to your silky skin at the side of your hips, leaving a mark similar to the other ones near the crook of your neck that he made earlier. he stares at the bruises proudly as he caresses them softly,

“what do you say we get these tatted hm?”

tattoo artist!matt who makes sure his work is always on full display while he fucks you...

“fuck, turn around f’me” matt pants as he pulls out of your soaking cunt, you comply, turning around with your hands and knees on his bed.

your fresh bow tattoo on your lower back was now visible to him. he stared in awe at your red skin, running a finger over it that sent chills down your spine.

tattoo artist!matt who comes on your back...

“shit- m’close-” matt drills his cock into you faster. your eyes roll to the back of your head as his pelvis slams into your ass. matt pulls out as thick, hot, spurts of cum squirt onto your back, just above your tattoo.

“so... pretty” he sighs stroking your hair as your legs shake, begging to collapse. “you did so good” matt praises.

ᡴꫂ

#matt sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo fluff #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt x y/n #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo smut #matt stuniolo fanfic

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kentopedia · 10 months ago

Note

I loooveee the way u write nanami 🥺🥺 was wondering if u could do a mini fic on nanami x reader but when they were in high school :O I feel reader would constantly flirt with him but he stays unbothered until she stops 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 thank uuuu

౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ HIGH SCHOOL SWEETHEARTS — nanami kento

omg thank u so so much, you're very sweet <3 i think i was taking requests when you asked this, so im so so so sorry i took forever to answer :( this isn't exactly what you said but i hope it's close to what you had in mind <3

contents: sfw, high school nanami & reader, mutual pining, silly teenage emotions, fluff, it's not even really romantic but they're best friends that won't admit they have a crush on each other, reader is shorter than him, gn!reader — 1.2k

“you can’t stay mad at me forever, kento.”

your best friend — or so you thought — stayed silent as you walked through the abandoned warehouse, searching for the curses that needed exorcising. so far, they’d evaded you, just as kento had all of your questions.

he glanced over at you, mouth drawn into its usual line. “i can if i want.”

“oh really?” you huffed, crossing your arms over your chest as you continued forward, following him through the building. “are you fifteen or five? you’re supposed to be the mature one!”

kento rolled his eyes, but didn’t dignify that with a verbal response, letting his blade dangle loosely at his side. an odd sound echoed through the hallways, but it wasn’t quite menacing enough to be a curse.

you groaned. “don’t you know everyone will just keep pairing us up on missions until we work this out?” if kento was going to continue to be a pain, you wouldn’t allow him the silence he wanted so desperately. he’d been ignoring you for over a week. “haibara’s lucky. he gets to go with the second years.”

nanami glanced over his shoulder, raising his eyebrow, before looking ahead once more. “you mean he’s lucky he gets to go with gojo.”

though you weren’t sure if it was supposed to be an insult to you or not, you laughed. “maybe.”

“yeah,” kento scoffed. “i thought so.”

the tone was flatter than usual, even for someone like kento, and you raised your eyebrows, letting the words settle between you.

“you’re being so sour. you know, you never even told me what i did wrong. you’re so mad at me, kento, and i don’t even really know why.”

kento watched his feet take one step, then another, the opposite ones moving ahead. he’d grown a lot over the summer — a fact you’d somehow only realized. since when had he been that much taller than you?

“i’m not mad,” he finally settled on. a weak argument as to why he’d been ignoring you for the duration of your mission, and the week before.

you frowned, chewing the inside of your mouth. although kento had a kind heart, you knew how nasty he could be to people he didn’t like. you didn’t want to be one of those on the list. “kento… i really am sorry. if i’ve done something wrong.”

the tension drained from his shoulders. he sighed. “you haven’t.”

despite wanting to push the issue further, you let it die, deciding to listen to the silence in case of any curses. though, it had been nearly half an hour, and you hadn’t found any yet. you were beginning to think that maybe your teacher had led you astray.

“can i ask you something?” kento, after ten minutes, finally interrupted the quiet again. and though that sort of phrase was never a good sign, you would’ve taken anything to get him talking to you again.

“of course, kento.”

he sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, seeming shy, almost. had it not been so dark, you would have seen the slight tint of pink on his cheeks, that you only assumed was there to begin with.

“what is it about gojo that you like so much?”

you blinked. “what do you mean?”

“you’re… interested in him, aren’t you? like that?” kento shifted awkwardly, holding his body as if it wasn’t quite his own. “i mean, i just assumed…”

all over, you great hot, your cheeks burning with embarrassment, a wave of dread heaping onto your stomach. “you think i have a crush on gojo?”

“don’t you?”

you thought about it for a moment, staring at the ceiling. “i don’t know. maybe.”

“maybe?” kento pinched his eyebrows together. “what the hell kind of answer is that? you either do or you don’t.”

“i think he’s...” you stumbled over the words, not really sure when you’d started talking to nanami kento about these sorts of things. the words tasted sour in your mouth. “well, i suppose he’s attractive, isn’t he? he’s certainly charming. he makes me laugh.”

“you’re always flirting with him," kento said skeptically.

you shrugged. "i'm just teasing. if you consider that flirting, then i guess i am."

“hm. you sound like you think you’re supposed to be interested in him, just because he’s gojo.”

that raised a small laugh out of you. “maybe you’re right. i think i might just be interested in people i know won’t ever like me back.” kento’s eyes flashed, and before he could say anything, lips parted, you continued. “but what do i know about anything, anyway? teenagers are supposed to be dumb like that, aren’t they?”

kento frowned, brown eyes softer than you’d seen in awhile. “i don’t think you’re dumb.”

“thanks.” for some reason, that made you bashful, darting your eyes away as you smiled at the ground. “have you ever had a crush on anyone, kento?”

he gave you a tiny little smile, poking you in the temple, before repeating your words from earlier. “i don’t know. maybe.”

“you’re so stupid.”

kento laughed, then, a light noise that was more familiar to you than it was to a lot of others. “you know, if it makes you feel better, i think gojo likes you. really, i do. he thinks you’re pretty. he likes when you laugh at his jokes. geto told us. he talks about you to him all the time.”

and though you’d expected the words to send a wave of glee over you, the sort of silly emotion that came with a teenage crush, you didn’t feel excited as you should've. perhaps because satoru had never been the one you wanted.

“gojo just likes to be admired. besides, everyone likes when people laugh at their jokes. that's not special.” you kicked at the floor. “anyway, geto’s probably just telling you all that so you’ll tell me and i’ll make a fool of myself in front of them. that would really make them laugh.”

kento frowned, contemplative. “i don’t think he would do that.”

he wouldn’t. it just seemed the only good way to diverge the conversation.

you threw your hands up, expelling a loud sigh. “well… whatever. honestly, it doesn't matter. i don’t think i even want a boyfriend.”

kento gawked at you for a moment, lips slightly parted, before he shook his head, another snort of a laugh leaving him. “you’re so confusing.”

“you should be relieved. wouldn’t you be miserable if i started dating gojo?” you were only teasing him, bumping his shoulder with your own, a playful grin on your face.

but kento’s voice was gentle when he returned his answer, and the relief was evident on his face. “i would.”

whether you knew it then, or not, that little confession had changed the course of your life. you brushed it off easily, gripping your cursed tool tightly as you turned the corner again.

“hey kento?”

“what? the curses are going to sneak up on us if—”

“you’re my best friend, by the way. even if i was dating gojo, you’d still be my best friend. you’ll always be my best friend.” you stopped him, serious now. “no matter what happens.”

kento smiled softly, barely there at all. he squeezed your hand in return. “i hope so.”

#kento nanami x reader #jjk x reader #nanami fluff #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami kento x y/n #kento nanami x you #nanami x reader #jjk x fem!reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #xoxo rylie 💌 ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆#xoxo rylie 💌 ⋆ ˚｡⋆

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livelaughlovesubs · 2 months ago

Note

Omg omg for the prompt thing making Fyodor and/or Sukuna beg and kneel pls 🙏

KEKEKEKEKE YES YES YES one fedya and one sukuna right away! (Edit: I really like how fedya’s turned out?)

Dom!reader x sub!fyodor/ sub!sukuna (separate)

Warning: begging & kneeling (both) ~light size kink, monster fucker (sukuna’s true form hehe), marking, biting, nipple play, groping, teasing~ (sukuna)

Anniversary event

Fyodor

“What a pleasant surprise, the demon Dostoyevsky is looking for my humble self?” You sat back and got into a comfortable position, voice dripping with fake politeness as you sneakily eyed him up and down. It was well-known that he’s a dangerous individual, you had to be careful. “Oh please, no need to use such flattering words. I’m here to ask for a favour after all.” Fyodor smiled gently, if you didn’t know better you’d think he was a kind and innocent man.

“A favour? I’m not sure I have anything worthy of your standard.” How you wished he’d just leave and never come back, you didn’t like this pressure one bit. “You are too modest, y/n. I’m aware of how knowledgeable you actually are.” He commented. On the surface it looked like a compliment, yet you understood the implications behind it. “Is that so? Because I’m not sure what you are talking about.” You continued playing the naive card, it was the safest bet for now.

The male chuckled, his posture was straight as he stared right into your eyes, maintaining eye contact. “Then, I’ll get straight to the point,” he said, his tone shifting from a distinct softness to a rather serious one. “I want information about the book.” You knew about his ambitions, and his goals, which is why you knew what he wanted from you. As such, his request didn’t come off as a surprise, and it didn’t show on your face neither. But fyodor already took that into account, he knew it as well.

Someone with infinit information and someone smart enough to predict the future, what a match.

You had to think carefully, even if you weren’t as intelligent as this genius in front of you, you had an advantage. Because it’s him who’s asking for a favour. “What will I gain out of telling you?” For a split second, his dead eyes lit up, as if you peaked his curiosity. “A future rid of sinners, mankind in its most glorious form. One where order and harmony spreads across the world.” What grand endeavours he had, but it didn’t concern you in the slightest.

“How do I put it, your offer isn’t enticing enough.” You thought you had won, keeping a collected face to mask your small victory. Though it seems it wasn’t over yet, since his next words send a chill down your spine. “I expected so, that’s why that’s not everything.” He then got up from his seat, getting dangerously close to you. His eyes bore a determined and prideful look, one that pierced your soul, that made him seem all knowing.

“You aren’t the only one who did a background check.” Fyodor sneered, now standing right in front of you, staring down at you with those violet eyes. “I wonder if you’ll still refuse me if I do this?” Somehow, you had a bad feeling about this, your stomach curled as you hesitated. Each movement seemed so difficult due to the pressure, it was suffocating. You knew he was great at manipulation, at using others, especially their desires, and he understood human emotions so well it was terrifying.

Since you knew all of that, you were prepared, no?

Nothing could have prepared you for what happened next.

He dropped onto his knees, the gaze in his eyes shifted, though still prideful, it was more.. docile now. As gracefully as ever, he placed his hands on his lap, staring up at you with the same tender expression as before. Meek smile and big, carefully planned puppy eyes, though you knew it was an act, it stirred emotions you didn’t want to feel. It made your heart soft.

If you were still resolute, hanging onto your willpower, then you were gone after the next sentence from the male. Fyodor did his homework very throughly. That sickly sweet and addicting voice, laced with a hint of need, whispering in a tone that made your insides tingle, “please fulfil my little request, I’d do anything for it. I… beg of you? Moya lyubov?” A faint blush crept up his pale cheeks, adding even more flavour to the already fantasy-like show laid out before you. Now, you couldn’t help but grin all sadistic, for you have fallen into the temptation of the devil itself.

Sukuna

Oh how he treasured you, it was beyond the grasp of his other supporters.

With how things stand, you were his only weakness, and they couldn’t let that be. Yet, their lord, the king of curses, was too smitten with you to care. All they wanted was a reason, an answer to their question: why?

It goes all the way back to when he was like any other human. Not with four arms, and four eyes, not even when he was the strongest sorcerer. No, back in time where he was simply human. From that point onwards, you’ve always accompanied him, stayed by his side and cheered him on. It was only a matter of time until he’d eventually become soft with you. And now, even after his body mutated into his current state, you stayed by his side with the same conviction like decades ago.

But due to him being used to killing, and him just being so much stronger than you, a part of him was afraid of crushing your delicate body into pieces. That’s why he refused to touch you until he was sure he had full control over his strength. What if a simple hug ended with you dying in his arms? He couldn’t let that happen now could he.

Even so that didn’t hold you back, rather, you were amused by his dedication. At times it was annoying how he saw you as a frail porcelain doll, though you were mostly enjoying this peculiar circumstance. Especially when you are sitting behind his massive form, kissing his neck and leaving hickeys while your hands trail around his body, exploring every single inch. And he couldn’t stop you at all.

You pulled back to admire your own work, then made yourself bigger and leaned over his shoulder, “you don’t mind if I continue, right?” He didn’t answer you, only giving you a half-assed glare as he stayed put. You took it as a yes, since, if he didn’t want to, he could always just standup and leave. That’s why your eager hands wandered to his full breasts, cupping them with your palm as you smirked perversely. Wasn’t it just so much fun? Doing whatever you wanted to the strongest men alive?

After squeezing them to your hearts content, you used your fingertips to circle around his pink nipples. He had such a tough body, and high pain resistance, so it’s the gentle touches that make him lose his mind. “…really? You like my chest that much?” Sukuna sighed, despite how much he’d complain, he never objected to your antics. “Yep, they are awesome.” You answered almost immediately, he was almost impressed by how shameless you were.

“Huh, I don’t get the appeal.” He said, though he liked having your attention on him. “I just like feeling you up with my hands.” You admitted, and, as if to prove your point, slid one hand down to his mouth-tummy. “Mhm..” The male coughed, acting as if he was clearing his throat. Seeing as you finally drew a reaction out of him, you began to fondle his body again. One hand stayed around his pecs, rubbing his hardened bud, the other one jumping from one place to another. As of now, you were using it to grope his inner thighs.

“Hmmm- haaah, y/n, you really are something.” He panted, closing his eyes, immersing himself in the sensations you gifted him. “No need to hold back, we are by ourselves.” You whispered, before going back to sucking and biting his shoulder blades. Even though that’s what you said, he didn’t need your words, until you began tugging on his sensitive nipple. “Nghh, ah… damn it.” When he realised what noise just slipped from his lips, he cursed under his breath, an almost invisible blush covering his cheeks and shoulders. It was the most noticeable around his ears.

When you glanced over his shoulder again, you noticed the growing bulge in his pants. Now you really couldn’t hide your grinning anymore, stopping whatever you were doing with your hands and instead hugging him from behind. He didn’t object at first, but got annoyed after a while, taunting you, “..aren’t you going to continue? What, suddenly feeling embarrassed?” To which you replied, “it seems like you don’t enjoy what I’m doing, so, of course, I stopped.” Liar, that’s what you say whenever you want something from him.

“And how can I prove you otherwise?” Sukuna feigned a groan, though you saw how the corners of his mouth twitched. “Get on your knees and beg, then I’ll believe you ♡.”

You must be the luckiest human on earth, for surviving after asking him to do something like that, and that he’s into this power tipping thing as long as he gets to do it with you. So, without much delay, he popped down from the bed and smiled confidently, as he basically demanded, “touch me more,,, please?”

“…”

you had to teach him how to really beg

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cutebat · 3 months ago

Text

Yandere Batfam x Neglected, but Defiant Reader

What's Next?

Warning(s): Yandere themes, past neglect, a lot of swearing, stealing, violence, mentions of bribery

(This is where now you can pick your own choices in this series, so this isn't technically a chapter)

~~~~~

Two weeks went by quickly, thank God.

You arrived at school as how you could have if it wasn't for Bruce ruining your fucking break by making you spend time with the rest of the family.

You were forced to watch movies that made no sense due to its plot or whatever and went shopping, only for them to buy you things that you didn't like that all. Like, who still buys and wears things that could cause a whole closet clutter.

The worst part of all this is that Damian has to walk you everywhere around the school, except for using the restroom. Even worse is that Bruce changed your entire schedule to you having teachers who love to fuck you over. Because of this, you can't skip anymore!

Anyway, the day quickly went by, and now it was break time. As you two walked into the cafeteria, you spot your two basically only normal and only friends, Noelle and Sasha.

"(name)! There you are...-"

Noelle calls out to you before her smile slowly flattered when she spots Damian beside you.

"What is he doing here?"

She whispers to you that made you roll your eyes.

This made Damian narrow his eyes down at the two of them.

"Do you have a problem with me being here?"

He asks with a snarl that made your friends cringe a bit.

"(name)..."

Sasha mutters out to you that made you sigh.

"No, no... Damian, they're cool, don't worry."

You reassure him that luckily made him calm down.

"Oh, alright then. Come now, sister. We need to find a table."

Damian tells you which made you feel annoyed.

"Oh, uh, actually. I need to get my water bottle. I left it in my locker, so..."

You try to make an excuse to get out of here.

"No worries, I can go get it for you."

Damian said as he turns around.

"Wait, you don't know my combination!"

You call out of realization.

"I'll figure it out."

He calls back as he leaves the cafeteria.

You and your friends stayed where you were in silence.

"Isn't this great?"

You speak up out of sarcastically as you sit down with them.

"(name), what are you doing with that guy?"

Sasha asks as she takes a bite of her pudding.

"Being stuck by his side for the whole day and the entire Christmas break?"

"No, why are you hanging out with him?"

"Oh, god, don't be a bitch over this. I know he's such a pain in the ass, but I can tolerate him, okay?"

"No, we're not jealous or anything, he's actually fucking insane, (name)!"

Noelle tells you

"Insane like how?"

You ask as you cross your arms.

"Sent many guys to the infirmary, punched a guy in the throat earlier, nearly set a teacher's car on fire."

Noelle said as she started to list down all the things that Damian did.

"Wait, so all of this happened in one day?"

You ask with your eyes wide a little.

"Yeah."

"How do you know all of this?"

"I have two classes and a passing period with him."

At that moment, a guy with a neck cast walked up to your table.

"Were you guys just talking to Damian?"

He asks the three of you.

"Yeah."

Sasha mutters out.

"I hate him. He literally punched me in the throat during gym and didn't even apologize to me or get expelled. I'm pretty sure he paid off the headmaster or something."

He said with his eyes furrowed that meant he was pissed.

"See?"

Noelle mutters to you.

"Hold on, why did he exactly punch you for?"

You ask out of curiosity.

"Cause I said that you were pretty hot and told him that he was a wimp about it or something."

He said as he rubs his cast.

"Still sound normal to you?"

Noelle asks you.

"Oh, come on. That's like one of the things that's like the less worse things."

You tell her.

"'Less worse'?! I was passed out for like half an hour!"

The guy said in a defensive tone.

"Dude, that sounds like a you problem."

You tell him with a bored expression.

"Oh... Shit hurts."

Sasha said with a chuckle.

"Fuck you, guys... Stupid bitches..."

The guy mutters out as he walks away from you and your friends.

"Anyway, what can I do about all of this?"

You ask as you place your chin on the palm of your hand.

"Honestly, I don't know. You're pretty much on your own, (name)."

Noelle said as she takes a sip of her honey milk.

"What? You guys aren't going to help me?"

"We want to, but we don't know how."

"Please? Like actually, please. I have no idea what to do and I don't even know how to get away from all this."

You tell your friends in a slight pleading tone.

Noelle and Sasha gave each other a glance before they stare back at you.

"Okay, fine. As much as we don't know either, we'll try whatever we can, okay?"

Sasha said as she sets her pudding cup down.

"What are you exactly going to do now, (name)?"

Noelle asks in a soft tone with a soft gaze on her face

~~~~~

Go to your next class (Coming soon)

Skip until the end of the day with your friends (Coming soon)

Go home with your friends

•

Taglist: @somebodyrandom-613 @delias-stuff @endism @ragdol-666 @snowy-violet @sleepydhanie @missikkj @k1ttys-w0rld @box-of-kinderjoy @thetreefairypersonalblog @thelibraryofdeez @animegoddess15 @lilyalone @seraph101 @lain3iwakura @tacodeemon @whiterabbitxxx @yuyuzi-ling @lilithquillete @amisupposedtomakesenserightnow @una1002289 @spacetravelr @luckyangelballoon @illytian @ghostdoodlen @imaginarydreams @flyingpansaurus @wrenbirde @kimzzz18 @ohnoivefallen @ferakillia @f1lover4ever @asahi20789 @livingforloves @moonieper @rosecentury @waitingforanarchicaddiction @missmannequin @mischiefmanaged124 @hanselate @doli09 @chocolatemoose26 @enjisthings @stitchtheseconde @purple-lemon-8 @milliu @blublock404 @kimzzz18 @jsprien213 @bluemidnightmelodies @enter-sandmann @tdickensstuff4 @couldeatthatgirlforlunch @starsdotalk @sumikosasaki @erikasurfer @h0rr0r-10ver-69 @0lshadyl0

(If you want to be in the taglist, let me know!)

#yandere #yandere batfam #yandere batfamily #batfam #batfamily #yandere x reader #yandere platonic #neglected reader #platonic #yandere dc

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st4rfckerz · 1 year ago

Text

car troubles | james kelly x reader

word count: 2.6k

warnings: MDNI 18+, unprotected sex, breeding, praise, age gap, pet names (baby, sweetheart, pretty girl etc), very brief dry humping, a lottt of banter, mention of masturbation, cockwarming (?), afab reader

summary: your neighbor james kelly fixes your car for you while you're home alone.

a/n: i lowkey don't like this fic 😭 but it's probably not as bad as i think it is, BUT hopefully you guys enjoy it more than me :)

it was a blessing and a curse for owning an old car. it was a curse since issues flared up so frequently, but it was also a blessing because it prompted your neighbor, james kelly, to fix it for free.

james was hunched over your car's hood, with a number of tools arranged next to him.

"i doubt this'll take long at all. you just have a dead battery, and maybe a few other mishaps but other than that your car is fine." james explains.

"sounds great. thanks again for fixing my car." you give him a friendly smile. james quickly returns the smile, followed by a small laugh.

"of course, you can always count on me for these kinds of things."

"noted." I fiddle with my fingers nervously before turning away.

"i'll just be inside so just come get me if you need anything."

"alright, will do"

he gives a small nod as he watches you disappear inside. his attention turns back to the vehicle.

ever since your family moved into your home when you were 15 years old, you'd always had a small crush on james. but after you entered college and spent so much time away from home, he had aimlessly plagued your thoughts.

you didn't mean for it to happen, but he just always managed to be the only person you'd think about when you're in bed by yourself. thinking about his tall frame, his long, slender fingers, and the way his arms would shine with sweat from fixing cars all day long always sent a flash of heat through your body.

some time passes and you hear a faint knocking at your back window, followed by the door creaking open just a tad.

"hey, she should be good to go now." he spoke to you as you sit at your kitchen island.

"that was quick, usually the shop takes like, 2 hours. i'm impressed." you chuckle. james gives you a smile and a shrug.

"no need to flatter me sweetheart, I've been doin' this forever."

a shortly lived tinge of arousal goes straight to your core after hearing the sudden petname. it always surprises you when he calls you something other than your name because he rarely ever does.

"if you want you could stay and rest for a little while." you had articulated the plan earlier that day of keeping him in your home while your parents were out, just to see where it would go.

"You wouldn't mind?" james' tired, weary expression lit up and he seemed more hopeful than he had in a while.

"I wouldn't be intruding on anything?" he nervously asked.

"not at all, it's just me here anyways. my dad's at work," you explain, flashing him an innocent smile.

"there's fresh lemonade in the fridge, and if you'd like you can use the shower, i know how hot it is outside."

james cleared his throat and looked over towards you.

"that'd be really nice, actually."

you didn't think it would be so easy to have such a smart man like james fall into your trap, but somehow it worked perfectly. he was in your house, and was about to use your shower. the only thing that was on your mind was simply how much of a genius you are.

"the bathroom's right upstairs, here i'll take you," he follows you upstairs and you lead him to the bathroom.

"there's the shower, soap, shampoo all that stuff." you explain as james stands awkwardly beside you.

"sounds good, thank you i really appreciate it." his voice sounds sincere and soft.

"its no problem really, take as long as you need, i'll just be in my room." you walk out the door before closing it behind you. soon, you hear the sounds of water running from the showerhead.

eventually, you hear the bathroom door open and a small cloud of steam escaping the doorway.

james spots you laying on your bed wearing tiny blue shorts, and a small white tee.

his mouth suddenly goes dry and millions of thoughts begin to swarm around in his mind.

how could you just lay there and look so perfect?

james has been a nervous wreck ever since he arrived at your house. he knew it was wrong to be so attracted to you because of the obvious age gap, but he just couldn't help himself.

he's seen you in so many ways, so many times; outside in the pool wearing nothing but a bikini, laying in the grass wearing your skimpy shorts and tank top casually trying to get a tan, he's even watched you change your clothes right in front of your bedroom window.

he always saved those mental images of you so he could fuck his fist later on.

james clears his throat and looks over at you, standing awkwardly at your doorway.

"oh hey." you smile. james glances over your room and notices your college flag plastered on your wall.

"college huh?" he points at the flag and begins walking towards your bed.

"yeah, I'm almost done actually." you reply sitting up and swinging your legs across the side of your bed.

"how much longer do you have?" he crosses his arms and leans against the wall.

"about 6 months? i'm so ready for it to be over," you sigh heavily.

"did you go to college?" you ask him.

"trade school." james nods

"i figured, you don't seem like you were the frat boy type." you joke.

james' face lights up in amusement as he laughs a little walking over to you. he decides to take a seat right next to you on your bed

"yeah... no. definitely not the frat boy type. never saw the appeal in them."

"me neither they can be obnoxious, can't stand them." you explain. an awkward silence stills before you both.

he looks at you, the corner of his mouth curling slightly in anticipation.

"you must have boyfriends back at college, don't you?" his slight change in tone and lift in confidence makes you a little nervous.

"oh no, i-i don't, college guys aren't really my...thing." you stutter. your gaze lingers on james, drinking his presence in.

his hair, still wet from the shower, glistened in the sunlight coming through the window. you could drool on the spot at the sight of his broad shoulders, muscles barely peeking out of from under his gray t-shirt.

"then what is your 'thing'." james shifts his body to face you more.

you shrug and shake your head.

"i don't know, i guess i just always went for older guys." you confess. you knew it was slightly obvious what you were suggesting but it was now or never.

a sly smirk appears on james' face before speaking again.

"really?"

"always have." you look down at your legs quickly. the way james was staring at made you feel like you were on fire.

"do you like anyone in particular?" james was itching at some kind of answer that could miraculously allude to himself.

"that's confidential." you try to avoid looking at him so he doesn't see the obvious blush spread across your cheeks.

"right, right." james had a small grin on his face as you revealed the answer.

he was almost giddy with joy. he knew what he wanted to hear, but he never expected you still had feelings for him.

"it's dumb, i know," a wave of embarrassment rushes through your body and you immediately regret admitting something so elementary.

"i'm sorry if it bothers you i don't-" james cuts you off

"it doesn't bother me."

"it doesn't?" james shakes his head and smiles slightly.

"no, does it bother you?"

"no." he begins leaning towards you slowly and your brain shuts down completely.

james was close enough to feel your breath as you spoke. his face was a few inches away from yours, and he was looking straight into your eyes.

there was a long pause for a moment. It was as if james thought you were gonna do something.

his voice was a little quiet as he spoke his next words.

"good."

james finally closes the gap between you and presses his lips softly against yours.

a tingle went up his spine as your lips came into contact with his. he had never anticipated this, but it felt different. it felt right.

his hand reached to touch your face and he pulled you in closer slowly, your bodies connecting more and more as he leaned into you.

the kiss deepens and a small whimper erupts in your throat.

james noticed the noise you made and smiles against your lips. his big hands grab your thighs and pulls you onto his lap.

he gently pulled you closer to his body again, his arm wrapped around your waist, and his other arm reached to caress your body as both of your lips touched.

james' lips connect to your neck, nipping at the skin along your jawline.

you moan slightly and subconsciously rut your hips against his.

he let out a groan as he gently broke the embrace to look at you.

"needy girl." he teases.

james grabs your hips and moves them harder against his center. he began kissing your neck as you rested in the position he held you in.

you feel his hand suddenly slip into your underwear.

"oh, sweetheart," james breathes out. he could feel how wet and needy you were for him

a pathetic whine escapes your lips as his finger draws antagonizingly slow circles around your clit.

"james please, i need you." the words that escaped your lips sent a jolt of electricity through his body.

he kept kissing your neck, his hand slither up your shirt, caressing and pinching at your nipples.

your words sent him over the edge and he let out a soft groan.

you needed so much more than his single finger. you mindlessly began to toy with the waistband of his pants, itching to just rip them off of him completely.

james was more than ready to let your hands do there work, as he lifted up his hips slightly.

"can i take these off?" james asks you softly, he begins pushing your shorts down your thighs.

you nod your head quickly and discard your shorts along with your shirt leaving you only in your underwear.

james' eyes shoot straight down to your chest.

"so perfect for me," he coos as he quickly latches his mouth onto one of your nipples, soon leaving little purple bruises on them. your eyes squeeze shut as you feel his tongue flicking against the bud.

the sound of a belt hitting the ground makes you jump slightly.

"i can't wait any longer." james mutters against your lips before pressing his mouth against yours.

his fast hands move your underwear to the side.

the feeling of his cock finally entering your dripping hole made your head fall onto his shoulder and a long breathy moan fall from your lips.

you can feel james' body shudders under you.

"oh, fuck," james waits a few seconds before finally thrusting upwards, moving your hips to meet his simultaneously.

the sound of yours and james' moans followed by the slight slapping of skin filled the air of your bedroom.

"you feel so good baby, so good for me."

if james kept speaking to you in that velvety tone you were sure that you were gonna cum a lot quicker than expected.

your mind was completely empty, not a single thought popped into your brain.

that was soon interrupted by the sound of your cellphone.

"it's my dad." you tell james urgently but he continues to litter your neck with small kisses and bites.

"answer it."

you stare at him blankly, the annoying ringtone still erupting from your phone.

your fingers hesitate for a moment before accepting the call and pressing your phone up to your ear.

"hey dad." you try to stiffle a moan as james begins thrusting up into you again.

it was so difficult trying to contain your moans while still trying to have a conversation with your dad.

"yeah, james came over mm-" your hand flies to your mouth.

you could feel james smirk against your neck as he continues to thrust into you at a faster pace.

"no-sorry, it was a cough."

he was relentless with his hunger for you, and didn't want to keep it at bay.

"be quiet baby, we don't need daddy hearing how good i'm making you feel hm?"

his voice was suddenly filled with a deep and lustful tone, but you loved it.

james heard the talking from your phone but it didn't distract him, it only sent a tinge of excitement in his heart.

he let his hands to roam all over your body, causing goosebumps to spread all over your body.

"he did a great job, the car...the car should be ok now."

your dad just kept talking. completely oblivious to what was happening on the other side of the phone.

james grins widely and let out a quiet moan, feeling your pussy squeeze around him.

his lips left your neck and he let his head lean back on the headboard. he didn't even stop his advances as he heard your dad talking. he just enjoyed seeing you try your hardest to stay quiet as he abused your cunt.

your dad finally says his goodbyes after asking a million questions regarding james' visit and you have never felt so relieved.

"that was a close one." james chuckled.

you let out an exasperated laugh, still not able to fully function. especially now that his fingers begin rubbing furiously at your clit, causing you to moan louder and buck your hips harder against his.

"j-james..." your body was shaking uncontrollably. that familiar not began to form in your stomach and fiery heat began to spread through your legs.

"you gonna cum for me pretty girl?" he taunts.

your face contorts in pleasure as you try to muster up any words that come to mind.

"m'so close-"

"i know baby i know, me too." the grip he has on your thighs grows firmer and his nails begin to dig harshly into your skin.

"come on sweetheart, give it to me." james thrusts harder into you, swiftly hitting your sweet spot everytime.

your walls clench around his cock as you cum, earning a loud, throaty groan from james. his warm seed coats your insides, leaving you feeling full and absolutely satisfied.

"there you go," james coaxes you through your orgasm.

james felt your sweat covered body collapse onto his and he kissed your forehead softly.

he kept his arms wrapped around your back, holding you close to him.

"are you okay?" was the first thing that came out of his mouth after a moment.

"mhm, m'ok" you flash james a tired smile.

he slowly opened his eyes as well and kissed your forehead. he let out another sigh as his arms were still wrapped around you.

then he spoke again, his voice filled with curiosity.

"so...what did your dad want to talk about?" he asked softly, still laying back on the bed with you on top of him.

"he was just asking if you had already come over and everything," you let out a snort.

"i definitely came." you look up at james to see a cocky smile across his face.

"stop," you giggle and slap his arm playfully.

"he also mentioned that he would be staying an extra hour at work."

james' demeanor shifted once you told him the good news of your dad staying longer at work.

"good," james leaned forward and kissed you again, grabbing your hand and pulled you down to the bed.

his hands slowly traveled down to your thighs, and he caressed it slightly before pulling your legs apart and situating himself in between them.

"because i'm not done with you yet."

#nai writes ୨୧ #james kelly #james kelly x reader #hayden christensen #hayden christensen x reader #anakin skywalker

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ashthemadwriter-archived · 2 years ago

Text

Me & my hubby!

—When you accidentally introduce your boyfriend as your husband

Fandom: Bungou Stray Dogs

Pairings: Dazai, Chuuya, Fyodor, Ranpo, Akutagawa, Jouno X Fem!Reader

Genre: Fluff, Humor

Format: Drabble

Warnings: Suggestive content in Dazai's

Word Count: 1.6K

A/n: This is very rushed so sorry if its not well written

↳Osamu Dazai

As the door of the fitting room opened, your boyfriend came into sight. The white tuxedo hugged his slim frame perfectly, making his tall figure stand out even more. The color had given him an elegant look, which nearly made you wonder if he was the playful guy you were dating.

Dazai smirked as he picked up on your stun and flashed you a cheeky smirk. "Like what you see, Bella? You're staring a little too hard you know~"

Suddenly the fitting room seemed like the perfect place to show him how much you actually liked his new look. It didn't matter if you made a mess out of the tux, since you were about to buy it anyway.

"Oh Osamu... You should wear white more often"

"Everything alright here?"

The salesclerk was checking up on you with a warm smile.

"Ah yes! We would like to buy this one. It looks gorgeous on my husband"

You didn't exactly pay attention to your words, but seeing Dazai's eyebrows jump in surprise made you question your statement, and...

Oh.

Anxiety washed over you as you weren't exactly unfamiliar with your partner's commitment issues, but much to your surprise, Dazai wasn't upset nor terrified; his huge ass grin was showing off his joy and flatter.

"I'm her husband!"

For god's sake.

The salesclerk on the other hand was looking at you oddly, probably questioning her life choices.

"Ah, ok. Well then would you mind taking the tuxedo off? I'll wrap it up for you"

A snicker left your boyfriend's lips as he pulled you close by your waist. "Sure, but I might need my wife's help to take my clothes off. Will you be kind enough to help me out, Anata?"

"Oh shut up already!"

↳Chuuya Nakahara

One of the benefits of working at the same organization was that when your boyfriend had a mission overseas, you could go with him.

You had just arrived to your hotel after a five hour flight, which made you tired as hell since you couldn't sleep on the airplane. Although that wasn't enough to lessen your excitement for going on what could be some kind of a trip after you finish the job.

"Have you made a reservation beforehand ma'am?"

"No, it was kind of rushed. Would that be a problem?"

The receptionist shook his head to the side. "Not at all. Lucky for you, we still have some rooms available"

The door of the hotel opened and Chuuya came in, approaching you with your luggage in his hand. You looked back at the receptionist. "Great! Then I'd like a room for two people. We're going to be here for a while since my husband needs to take care of some stuff from work; right, honey?"

Chuuya froze in the spot and a light shade of crimson appeared on his cheeks. This was definitely unexpected. It made him feel butterflies in his stomach in a good way and somehow questioned all the logic that made him avoid thinking about the future of your relationship.

"Well your husband doesn't seem to be sure" The receptionist commented in a humorous way. "Alright then, here's your key"

On the way to your room there was a silence that couldn't exactly be marked as "uncomfortable". Chuuya was wearing a warm smile yet so drowned in his thoughts that you refused to take him out of his zone. However, when you reached the door, he suddenly lifted you up, making you suddenly gasp and gaze at him with astonishment.

"What are you doing?"

"What a good husband is supposed to do"

The familiar beam was back on his face.

"I'm carrying my wife to our shared hotel room"

↳Ranpo Edogawa

"Ranpo! You can't eat this whole cake!"

Going to the bakery had become some sort of tradition since you and your boyfriend started dating. You went there every afternoon, tasted the new pastries, you lectured him to not get carried away and he stopped you by shoving a cookie in your mouth. That was pretty much repetitive, except that something extra was coming along today.

"I can and I will. That's why it's called sample y/n" He munched on his cheesecake, delighted by the sweet taste lingering in his mouth.

"Well Mr. detective, It's a sample so you should just take one bite and then move on! If you like it then just buy one!"

The baker chuckled and walked toward you. She knew you since you were regulars there, and she had enough respect for the president to not throw a tantrum over a few pieces of cake. "It's alright Miss y/n. Let the man eat his sweets"

"You don't understand ma'am! My husband eats way too much sweets and that's not healthy at all! What if he comes down with diabetes or something?!"

Ranpo stopped chewing for a brief second and looked at you from the corner of his eye. The lady on the other hand, was more excited than shocked. "You got married? Oh! Congratulations! It's nice to know that Mr. Ranpo has finally settled down!"

You didn't know if you should correct yourself or hide your red cheeks. "I— I meant that— " "Please have some more cake! They're on the house. Consider them a gift from me"

As she left you alone, you finally turned to your boyfriend to see his reaction, which was exactly the way you expected it to be; smug and playful. "Ah, I went into this marriage with so much hope"

"Oh grow up!"

↳Fyodor Dostoevsky

"How's your steak honey?" You asked, looking at your boyfriend with curiosity. He had been taking bites reluctantly, swallowing without actually tasting the meat.

"It's burnt to a crisp, even though I ordered it medium rare" He gently wiped his mouth with the napkin, placing the cutlery on the table. You gave the dish a once over and flagged the waiter down. After a while he approached your table. "Is there a problem, ma'am?"

"Yes. My husband ordered his steak medium rare and as you can see, this is not what he asked for"

My... Husband?

"Eh, so... He'd like his steak... Medium rare... Please?" Awkwardness was hitting you and you really didn't want to be alone with Fyodor right now, but unfortunately, you were on a date and there were no way to escape from it.

The waiter excused himself after apologizing and taking the plate back to the kitchen. He did find your sudden change of expression odd, but he didn't say anything since he wasn't asking for less tip. However, Fyodor was completely ready to bring it up. You could tell that based on his grin, but you were doing your best not to face him at that moment.

Not that it was enough to stop him.

"How's your pasta Mrs. Dostoevsky?" "Fedya! Stop!"

↳Ryuunosuke Akutagawa

Getting sick on valentine's day was not originally your plan, but at least you got to visit the doctor together. You were now waiting for the secretary to call your names.

"How long should we wait?"

Covering your mouth with a tissue, you lightly coughed. "Anytime now. All the people ahead of us went inside"

Akutagawa glanced at the door of the doctor's office and nodded. He had made a reservation at your favorite restaurant today and was planning to take you to some place nice afterwards, get on one knee and ask you to spend the rest of your life with him, but you suddenly got sick. It's not like he could be mad at you. It was not your fault, but... It seemed like the perfect opportunity. The perfect day for a memorable gesture...

"Mrs. Akutagawa! You're up"

Akutagawa.

She was referring to you, with his last name.

You had introduced yourself as Akutagawa. He was sure you did it accidentally since your face was redder than a tomato now, but still, he never thought hearing it would feel so... special.

The raven-haired man held your hand and leaded you to the doctors office, a ghost of a smile spread on his face. He might've lost the chance to propose now, but it's not the end of the world. You're stuck with him and not going anywhere, so he would try to make the perfect plan for a perfect proposal, for the perfect girl.

↳Saigiku Jouno

"Are you sure this is the store?" Your boyfriend crossed his arms.

"For the thousandth time! Yes!" "Well, you were also sure that you knew my size but it turns out you were wrong" "Ugh! Let's just get inside!"

Thanks to his job, Jouno was always on endless missions and barely had time to rest, let alone go shopping. You this T-shirt when you were walking by and you just couldn't help but to imagine your boyfriend in it. It might've cheered him up if it was his size.

The clerk recognized you the second you set foot in the store. "Oh hi ma'am! Welcome back!"

"Hi Amaya. Thank you. So, remember how I was not sure if the T-shirt was my boyfriend's size?"

She only nodded with a forced smile, because how could she forgot? You spent fifteen minutes staring at the T-shirt, wondering if it would fit him.

"Well, it wasn't" Jouno's smile got wider and you sighed. "Yeah yeah, I admit it. I don't know what size is suitable for my husband. I'm the worst partner ever. Can we please change this one and leave?"

"I don't understand ma'am"

For real? You just can't take a break.

"I'm saying that the T-shirt was too big for him!" "Yeah I got that, but I thought he was your boyfriend?" "What do you mean you— oh!"

No.

No no no no no no no no.

Jouno's smirk was still on, and now with a little smugness. He was clearly enjoying himself.

"If this is your way of proposing, it's really lame" "Oh shut up you big jerk!"

Tag List:

@pussydrunkfyodor @silverbladexyz @h8kolya @gettinshiggywithit @exhausted-doll @echo28 @rosasensibles @nekokinax @paperllama @the-foreigner @arsonklee @fayenfim @circinuus @c4xcocoa @asqmi @blueberry-writer @ryokuryuu @ayladove @sinfullysophiastrange @sugarcherryemo @whossuzy @sigmazcasino @linn-a-a @uottani @spiritis-rambles @glitch-karma @ilovechuuyaa

Want to be added to my bsd tag list?

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lilac-5ky · 1 year ago

Text

Holed Up (Husband!Toji x Fem!Reader)

mini kinktober tribute: stuck in a wall/hole

plot: you should've known that asking Toji to help you out of a hole would lead him inside another—or that time you got stuck in the dog house and he bailed on you for KFC.

tags: MDNI, stuck in a wall/hole, pet play (kinda), breeding, doggy style, fingering, oral sex (f. receiving), spanking, pet names (bitch, baby), established relationship, crack plot, unsolicited kfc orders, i promise toji loves reader, he's just joking guys.

wc: 2.2k

Masterlist | Kinktober Masterlist | AO3

“Whatcha doing?”

Sarcasm rolls from your husband’s tongue as he stares down at you. Back arched, knees bent, and head encased by wooden planks. Not the most flattering position to be found in, especially with how the light autumn breeze blows at your dress and parts its layers, opening a window to the pink panties of your choice.

His question feels excessive. He knows exactly what you are doing. It was only this morning that you asked him to dig poor ol’ Mister Stinky’s remains from the dog house and he claimed he’d rather buy his son a replacement. No arguing there, but should Megumi see what became of his favored stuffed animal—fuzzy entrails gutted out of the frog’s shredded belly in a path initiating from his bedroom—he’ll be having nightmares for weeks to come.

Besides, you doubt synthetic is the kind of fiber your vet prescribed for your puppy's diet.

“What you should’ve done instead.” You finally spit out, contempt over what Toji’s long fingers could’ve accomplished without him needing to stick half his body into a hole like your, admittedly, dumbass self did.

“For thirty minutes straight? Damn, seems I overestimated ya.”

Even though your view of him is limited to a pair of overworn black slippers, you can vividly picture his scarred lips pulling over his teeth in another of his complacent smirks that scream I told you so.

“Don’t have anything better to do than time me?”

“Nah,” Toji drawls. “Grew tired of waiting on ya, so I thought I’d come see how it’s going.”

“It’s going great!” You lie through your teeth. Anyone with a functioning pair of eyes could see how non-great this is going. “Anything else you need?”

“Well it is noon.” He points out.

“And?”

“And my darling wife’s out ‘ere, rolling in the mud when she should be having lunch with me.”

A snort flares in your nostrils. He is unbelievable.

“What a cute way of letting me know you’re hungry, Toji. You know, if you’d actually helped, I would’ve had the time to set the table and give Mister Stinky a proper burial, but I can’t do both at the same time, can I?”

“Mhm, so how ‘bout we help each other?” He suggests, undeterred. “I get your ass out, and you cook us somethin’ tasty real quick.”

“Wh-who said I was stuck? I can get out whenever I want.”

“Really, huh? What keeps ya from getting out this instant, then?”

“I don’t want to.” You answer wryly. “I like it here. It’s quiet, and I could use some time for myself.”

“In the dog house.” His tongue clicks against the roof of his mouth. He’s not buying an ounce of what you’re selling. “C’mon, don’t be stubborn. You’ll end up reeking of dung if ya stay here a minute longer. Lemme give ya a hand.”

You know that accepting his help comes at the exorbitant price of utter humiliation, but he’s got a point. Last night’s downpour emanates strongly from the saturated wood, a dizzying smell that turns overwhelming when combined with the strong odor of what you sincerely hope is not piss. Your knees are on the verge of collapsing, and there’s more dirt in your nails than if you dug a grave barehanded. Right now, a day in the bathtub seems like a panacea for your every issue.

Almost.

Kissing your teeth, you resign with a long-drawn sigh that’s barely audible over the rumble in your stomach. You shouldn’t have skipped breakfast.

A moment passes before you hear the crunch of leaves as they rustle beneath his feet; see a second pair of knees take place between your own. Then it’s two hands gripping at your hips, and eventually, a face—your husband’s handsome face that beams with a smug smile and eyes of mischief.

“Lookin’ good, sweetheart.” He greets, though you doubt he sees your face with all the hair that’s curtaining over your eyes while you hang upside down.

“What are you doing, Toji?” You recycle his question in an aggravated tone that fizzles out the second you feel his thumb press against your panties and tug the fabric to the side.

“Nothin’. Just curbing my hunger.” His finger teasingly glides across your nether lips and lands at your clit, while a palm large enough to envelope both your ass and cunt kneads at the tender flesh he’s offered. “Fridge’s empty, so.”

“This isn’t funny!”

“‘m not laughing, but c’mon. You hafta admit it’s pretty damn funny.” Warm air wafts from Toji’s mouth as he inches closer to your thighs. “Y’always whine when I fuck you from behind, but now? Look at you. Bent on all four like a real bitch.”

“T-Toji!”

Your breath hitches in your throat as he slides two fingers in your hole, languidly scissoring them in and out until there’s enough slick to lather your clit with. He circles around the nub while his fingers prod deeper inside, the icy touch of his wedding band clashing with the heat that sparks through your body when he bottoms out. A smothered moan gains echo as it bounces off the walls and into his ears.

“Such a well-trained pup,” Toji praises, retrieving his palm to lick his fingers. “Might win yourself a collar at this rate.”

You bite back your tongue before it can react to his backhanded comment, reminding yourself that you’re still outside, right where your neighbors can peek over the white picket fence for a quick hello and catch you slutting yourself out on your husband’s fingers.

“Can’t we continue this inside? Mrs. Honda is right next door, and M-Megumi—” You stutter when his palm returns to your body, its twin joining in spreading your cheeks further apart.

“Kid’s at school for another hour,” Toji mumbles, his hot tongue parting your folds with a long stroke that has your knees buckling. “So fuckin’ good,” he groans, his nose buried between your two holes while he lazily laps at your juices. “That sweet cunt is the reason why I married ya.”

You keen to his touch, hips bucking into his mouth, and walls clenching for more. “Only reason?”

“Nah. Consider that tight little ass as the second.”

His fingers burrow into the supple skin to squeeze at it, only lifting to deliver playful smacks that cause your ass to jiggle against his face. He growls into your pussy, mouthing all sorts of filth that gets drowned by your moans. It feels so good when he eats you out—it always does—but the probability of being caught in such a compromising position adds to the excitement.

The hand that’s trapped with you inside your pet’s house scratches at the wood, while the other rakes at the soil for grounding. Your orgasm creeps up on you, turning your vision blurry and tinting the darkness of space with colored specks. You are so close; all he needs to do is keep swirling at your clit, swallowing the entire bundle of nerves in his mouth, and sucking hard until—

“Ah, right.” He stops, words slurring from the threads of saliva that link his mouth with your cunt. “You said ya wanted time with yourself.”

Anger washes over you in place of the orgasm you were robbed of, the pleasurable fireworks traded for the obnoxious red alarm that goes off in your brain. “Toji, I swear to God, if you don’t fuck me right fucking now, the only lunch you’ll be seeing is KFC buckets for the rest of your life!”

A low chuckle falls flat from his lips. “Three. I love that snappy mouth ‘f yours.”

In an attempt to meet his eyes, you duck between your legs. Your hair mops the floor as you watch him pull down his pants and boxers, the last thing you see before blood shoots up in your head being the hard cock that dangles out of reach. The heat in your stomach stirs at the sight, anticipation building rapidly when you feel him run the reddened tip between your puffy folds.

“Sure you don’t want it here?” Toji taps his cock against your ass hole and your entire body jolts in response, a loud Toji amusing rather than deterring him. “A’right, a’right! Gotcha the first time.”

His profound dream of burying himself nine inches deep into your ass crumbles as he aligns his cock with the entrance of your pussy. You brace yourself, patiently awaiting that initial sting that never goes away; no matter how many times he fucks you or how diligently he preps you, the thickness of his girth always threatens to split you in half.

But now he’s stalling, a complacent smile sitting on his lips while he contemplates your silence. “Bet you’re red as a beet in there, aren’t ya?”

He plunges himself inside before you are given the chance to either prove or disprove him, a silent scream punched from your throat as his cock rams straight into your g-spot. He huffs a deep breath, barely keeping a groan bottled, when he feels your walls tighten around him. It’s suffocating. Wet, and tight—a little similar to what being stuck in that small space feels like for you, but infinitely more pleasurable for him.

"Mm, such a sloppy little cunt. Got yourself stuck in there for this, didn't ya?"

His fingers latch onto your hips, bruising you as his nails dig meanly into your skin. He drags his cock halfway out of your cunt only to snap his hips back in, picking up a pace that ramps up over time. His quick thrusts fuck you further into that hole, your tits bouncing and slapping against the hard wooden planks while your dress rides higher to expose your back.

Toji bends your body into an arch, a heavy palm situated on your stomach until you’re able to hold the position on your own.

“Like it when your husband fucks ya like a bitch?” He grunts, catching the hand that’s squirming on the grass beside him and twisting it behind your back. “Pounded in broad daylight f'everyone to see how dumb you get over my dick, huh?"

Your whimpers don’t go unnoticed by him. He laughs at the high pitch your voice has assumed, babbling his name an incomprehensible amount of times that exceeds the frequency with which his swollen cock head kisses your pulsing core. You can't think enough to reply, and you can't bring yourself to ask him to stop.

He smacks your ass loud enough for you to whine, alerting every last neighbor in the block to what is happening in their quaint suburban neighborhood. “Answer me.”

“Yes, Toji—fuck, love how big it feels.” Your thoughts stem from your pussy without being filtered by your brain. All your body knows is how badly it needs to be pushed over the edge, disregarding the scornful looks you’ll definitely be receiving at the next neighborhood watch assembly.

“That’s not what I asked.” Toji smacks your ass again, softer this time—or so it feels because of your numbing skin. “I asked, Who owns this pussy, mm?”

“That’s not what you asked at all!” Your talking back earns you a third spank. You realize you’ve got no agency of your own.

“Won’t ask again. Who. Owns. This. Pussy?” He punctuates each word with a thrust sharper than the one before, his cock twitching when he hears you screaming your answer at the top of your lungs.

“You do, T-Toji. My pussy is yours—ngh!”

“And who’s bitch are you, baby?”

“Your bitch!” You answer willingly, your mind clouded, and your logic dulled. “Fuck, Toji, you know I’m all yours.”

“Damn right, y’are.” He hums in response, hunching over your body to rub tight circles around your clit, jerking the nub up and down, round and round.

You’re almost there, and when he asks you whether you wanna be bred like one, the tension in your gut finally snaps, eyes involuntary crossing as white waves of pleasure overtake you.

He fucks you through your high at an animalistic pace, the thought of filling your belly with a baby that’s half his and half yours flooding his brain before your answer registers, his cum spilling deep within your pussy with a few sloppy pumps that squelch to the sound of your mixed fluids.

His moans mingle with yours, the rough sound of his voice raising goosebumps from where he kisses your back to the resounding ringing in your ears. He wraps his arms around you almost tenderly, peppering your back with kisses that almost convince you he’ll finally pull you out of that miserable hell hole but that’s not his intention. It never was.

A final smack meets with your ass right before he rolls his pants back up and walks toward the house, undisturbed by the screams that follow close on his trail.

“You said you’d get me out of here!” Your fist hits the ground, finges clenching around a tuft of grass blades that you violently root out.

“And you said you can get out whenever ya want. That you needed time for yourself, ‘member?”

“I didn’t mean that!” You object, your tone too squeaky to be taken seriously. “Toji, you’d better help me or else—”

“Or else what? KFC until I die?” He snorts. “Relax, I’ll come back before Megumi gets ‘ere.” You hear his phone buzzing as he—presumably—punches something in his search bar. Hot wings don’t sound too bad; he whispers for himself to hear, speaking up only when he asks you if you want him to order you a twister wrap or something before he closes his order.

a/n: the episode excited me too much, apologies. i was gonna post this later asdfghjkl but toji is back and we cum.

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inuyashaluver · 4 months ago

Note

MORE MAYA PLEASE 🙏🙏

handsy - maya le tissier

maya le tissier x reader

description: in which your best friend is an extremely handsy defender, completely testing the limits of your friendship when you contemplate if it really is platonic

warnings: nothing really!

a/n: you do not have to tell me twice. maya le tissier has my heart. thank you and please enjoy! ❤️ i haven't written for maya dearest in soooooo long, it was much needed!!

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

maya le tissier has a problem, and it was a problem she didn't even know she had.

she’d been told by countless people that this problem was going to lead her into trouble, but how was she supposed to fix it if she didn't know what the problem was?

this problem that maya had, you were no stranger to, in fact you were the one always caught in the crossfire of it. and this was your best friend’s incredibly handsy self.

maya le tissier was extremely touchy and affectionate with everyone, but mainly you, and it was starting to drive you insane.

—

it’s always been like this, being best friends with maya and then questioning your whole relationship with how touchy she was.

whether it was a simple touch on the arm or a prolonged hug that had your heart beating out of your chest, you were confused. she was confusing you. heavily.

you both met in the youth england teams, bonding because you were the same age. both similar yet different, a perfect balance that had many people envious of the relationship you had carefully constructed with each other.

ever since you were both 15, you've pulled your hair out in frustration over the brunette, something she wasn't even aware of.

“hey, babe” maya flopped down next to you in your cubby at the u17’s lionesses, she placed a warm hand on your thigh, kissing your cheek gently.

your cheek filled with pink from the contact of her lips against your skin, desperately hoping she doesn't point out how flushed you looked right now.

“hi, may” you chuckle, feeling maya’s arm slip behind you around your back, pulling you directly into her side. “you look gorgeous, as usual” she smiles, gently budging your shoulder with hers.

you look over at her in surprise, flattered by her words but also incredibly shy about them.

“i’m wearing the same thing as you” you point out, a hint of teasing laced in your words. “yeah but you always look way better” she winks, her arm moving from your back to rest on your thigh, fiddling with the end of your shorts.

your breath hitched a little, was she clueless or was she strategic?

“you okay?” she asks, handing your your water bottle, “you look a little flushed” she said with genuine concern, answering your earlier question, the girl was clueless.

“i'm all good! just a little warm” you excused, fanning your hands for added effect, maya’s eyebrows quirk but she chose to believe you.

the brunette grabbed a random paper from the cubby next to yours, fanning you down diligently, asking you constantly if you were okay. and if this doesn't sum up your ultimate confusion with your best friend, you don't know what will.

—

you were both signed to manchester united as well as the senior england team so that bond between the both of you only grew tenfold.

it was impossible for the two of you to be apart, mainly because you now lived together and that was an ultimate struggle.

each and every moment of your lives were together, it was a rare occasion to see the two of you separated, and thus, the rumours surrounding your relationship only grew larger, it was really taking its toll on you.

the thing is, there were numerous moments where you truly thought maya liked you back, how could you not?

there were occasions where she looked at you in a way that made your heart flutter, the petnames, the acts of service, and especially the way she would talk about you in interviews.

—

“yeah, thats a great question! i definitely think my biggest form of motivation is my (y/n), shes absolutely amazing inside and out and i just love her. to be honest, i don’t think i would be where i am without her and i know it's the same for her, well i hope” she laughs, thanking the interviewer again for the question.

ella and alessia, the ones that had to see everything under the magnifying glass knew this would drive you insane.

they sent you the video before having a group facetime call where they intricately analysed each word, each facial expression and they concluded the girl was in love with you.

and you concluded that you were in love with her, and something needed to happen, immediately.

—

you were at camp with england, mary begging you and maya to join alessia and her in a tiktok video, something about hot shots?

you weren't really listening, maya was drawing shapes on your back and therefore no coherent thoughts were present in your mind, and so here you all were, set up in a line in front of mary’s phone.

you and maya couldn’t stop giggling in the corner, making mary and alessia stare at you both with amused smiles until you nudged maya’s thigh with your own, hushing your giggles as best as you could.

“now that they're done, hello everyone, we’ve got a challenge for, me, alessia, maya and little (y/n) today” mary snickers, you scoff after she finishes her sentence.

“alright?” alessia chuckles, “what did you call me little for?” you point at mary, making her press her finger against yours that you couldn't help but laugh at.

“you’re the youngest” mary teases, “maya is three months older than me?” you exclaim, nudging maya for backup but the girl only gave you a cheeky smile back.

“oh whatever, go on” you roll your eyes, maya grins at you, squeezing your hand quickly before letting it go.

“we’ve got, hotshots, like the hotshots we are” everyone giggles, mary ripping them out of the package and giving one out to each of you.

“here, babe” maya grabs yours out of your hand, smiling at you before shaking both of your little bottles.

“she can’t shake her own bottle?” alessia teases, making maya giggle shyly while shaking her head, “nah, she gets princess treatment from me” maya winks, making you slap maya’s thigh with utters of “i do not!”.

maya puts one in between her thighs and opens yours, giving it to you before she opens her own. “i can smell it from here” alessia grimaces, “yeah, alessia eats with her nose” mary teases, maya smells it herself and coughs a little, pushing your hand down when you went to smell it yourself.

“love, it’s gross, don’t” maya says protectively, leaning forward to adjust herself, she placed her hand on your knee and as she sat back properly, her hand slid up from your knee all the way to your thigh, making you freeze in your spot.

maya looks at you questioningly, “i’m fine, i can just smell it” you lie, maya smiles at you, “gross, right?” she smiles, making you nod along with her.

“(y/n), i know exactly how it's gonna taste and i don't want it” alessia shivers, making you giggle at her. maya stares at you while you giggle, grinning brightly at seeing you so happy.

“less, if i do it, you do it” you laugh, making the blonde groan but agree.

“my god, we need (y/n/n) around more, look how fast lessi agrees and how excited maya is” mary says to the camera. “right, let's go!” mary demands.

you all grimace but begin to drink the shot, maya drinks it quickly and begins to laugh, coughing as she got up from the frame.

mary and alessia begin to laugh, promptly making you laugh as you watch maya. maya scrambles to get her bottle of juice from your bag, continuing to cough.

“you okay?” you grimace, the ginger burning the back of your throat, maya nods, “it got up my nose” maya chokes out, drinking the juice.

you finish your shot as maya comes back to sit next to you on the bed, “god, you're like a baby” you scold, lifting your hands up to cup maya’s face, wiping off the remaining shot and juice off her nose and her lips.

maya lets you do it with no complaints, watching you with a smile as you still taste the shot in your mouth.

when you drop your hands, maya lifts up her own, squeezing your cheeks together teasingly before putting the bottle of juice in your mouth.

her arm coming around your back to draw comforting circles on your back as you had the juice, passing it to alessia when you were done.

maya giggles as she makes fun of mary, drawing you closer every couple of seconds. “lessi, you need to finish it” you say to her, alessia shakes her head.

“no, i don't want it” alessia says with disgust, “come on, less, please” maya says, joining you in convincing the blonde, alessia rolls her eyes but does it anyone, getting a cheer from the three of you when she finished it.

“i’m so proud of all of you for that” mary mocks, ending the video with goodbyes and maya tackling you to the bed, claiming that now she was traumatised from the shot and needed comforting.

mary hops on both of you while filming it while alessia laughs in the back, distantly saying “such a third wheel!” making mary laugh when maya pressed a firm kiss to your cheek.

let’s just say you replayed each and every interaction that night before you went to bed. maya liked you back and you needed to do something about it.

—

a couple months later, you were back in manchester with maya, waking up early for training to make you both some breakfast.

“good morning” maya yawns, placing a hand on your hip with a kiss to your cheek, you let out a shaky breath before replying.

“morning, love, breakfast is there” you nod your head to the kitchen island, maya gasps in appreciation, thanking you and kissing your cheek repeatedly, pulling giggles out of you.

after you both finished eating, she just answered some texts on her phone as you stared at her, “you okay?” maya chuckles, glancing over at you, turning her phone off and swivelling her chair to face you, prompting you to do the same.

you don’t know where the surge of confidence came from but something came over you in that moment.

“can i try something?” you ask slowly, maya nods without hesitation, “whatever you like” she says sweetly, slightly moving closer to you.

you let out a quick exhale, swallowing the lump in your throat. there was so much riding on this, you could lose her forever or you could have her forever, and it was all on this.

but you couldn’t back down now, you owe it to yourself to do this. “if you hate me forever after this, i’m sorry for it now” you say wearily,

“babe, i could never hate you, it’s literally impossible” you says with full confidence. you nod at her, your eyes flickering between her eyes before quickly dropping to her lips and then back up.

she gives you a soft smile, you’re both on the same page. she wants you to make the first move.

you bite the bullet, surging forward to press your lips against hers, feeling them move together in sync without an ounce of hesitation. you both wanted this.

her hand cupped your chin and she stood from her chair, standing between your legs as she continued to kiss you. she places a hand gently on your thigh, your own arms wrapping around her neck softly.

she hums against you, kissing you sweetly with a smile lightly playing at her lips, making you chuckle against her.

she pulls away softly, bumping your nose cutely with yours as she giggles to face you. “you finally caught on, huh?” she teases, you roll your eyes, making maya pull you into another kiss, this one more purposeful and passionate before she pulled away again.

“you could’ve said something” you mock, maya interlaces your hands together, kissing the back of it gently.

“i said it everyday, i just wanted you to come to me in your own time” maya smiles, pushing a stray hair off your forehead.

you smile at her but almost sadly, the thought of both you and maya’s pushing your feelings away for so long.

“but what if i didn’t say anything?” you frown, gently caressing her face with the pad of your thumb, tracing over her cheek, maya smiles at you, moving closer to you.

“but you did, baby” she says softly, pecking your lips gently, “and it’s okay if you didn’t, i would just be your best friend and that’s it” she says earnestly, you pull her in for a hug, a tight one.

she gently sways you side to side as your legs slightly wrap around her waist. “i love you” you sniffle, maya tears up herself, kissing your cheek as she moved back.

“i love you” she says looking right into your eyes, kissing all over your face before settling on your lips, kissing them a couple of times before hugging you again.

“as much as i would love to kiss you all day, we have training” maya groans, grabbing both of your hands to help you down off the chair.

“so you wouldn’t kiss me all day?” you gasp mockingly, giving her a teasing smile, maya rolls her eyes affectionately, pinching your hip warningly.

“i would love nothing more, but we have a job to do, we can kiss all night” she winks, pecking your lips before ushering you out the door.

—

you’ve now been dating for over a year and have never been happier. the amount of relief everyone felt when they found out you were now dating was quite funny.

now everyone just had to get used to more flirting then usual but it was worth it, especially since you and maya were so happy.

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you know the drill, just pretend it’s you! ily lessi x

liked by alessia and 44,232 others

mayaletissier: i know im supposed to watch the game but she’s incredibly distracting

view all comments

yourname: yeah sure, IM the distraction

↳ mayaletissier: you are, my love

↳ yourname: so sweet you are

alessia: they grow up so fast

↳ maryearps: our kids are big girls now 🥺

↳ mayaletissier: adults but okay xx

#woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso one shot #woso imagine #maya le tissier #maya le tissier x reader

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andy-wm · 3 months ago

Note

i'm wondering how your thesis of "idols will come out when they want" fits into your insane shadow analysis attempting to prove jimin and jungkook fucked in the middle of their travel show (amongst other things)? like do you get joy out or trying to drag someone out of a closet they might not be in? or is it something else? just curious! 😀

Hey wdcmaxy

Since you have the guts to use your name I'll respond :)

So, you read my thesis?

*Sips whisky*

Cool. And you read my insane shadow analysis too?

Hmmm... do you come here often?

Let me answer your question then.

I think we both know the shadows analysis isn't really insane - it's based on very basic earth science. Shadows grow longer as the day progresses because of the rotation of the earth on its axis. You sound reasonably literate so i assume you know this already.

I guess your description of my shadow analysis ( I think I'll name my next racehorse 'Shadow Analysis') as insane is an attempt to discredit the idea that a fair bit of time passed while Tae was out of the house? But that was kinda silly on your part. Even children know that shadows change as the day passes.

Nothing insane about it.

He was gone for hours, no debate.

Now let's move on to the fucking part, and when and how idols choose to come out.

This is actually worth discussing.

As flattered as i am that you think my tiny insignificant blog could be a game changer for anyone, let's be real.

How many people, besides yourself, do you think read my blog?

Serious question.

I'm estimating maybe 100. Double that on a good day. Maybe 300 if i write something REALLY profound which doesn't happen often.

I am way less excited about my impact on the world than you are, because I'm a realist.

BUT if by some strange twist of fate my blog came to the attention of someone whose opinion mattered (I'm not counting you, don't worry) do you think they would take it seriously? Do you REALLY imagine a random tumblr post about shadows could make someone believe that an idol was gay if they didn't already believe it?

Here's a great example of how that wouldn't happen:

You, dear reader.

You're my example.

You came here to tell me I'm speaking shit and that I should pull my head in, correct? My insane shadow analysis hasn't changed your beliefs at all. You're here, throwing a tantrum on my page, because you don't agree with what I'm saying, not because you suddenly believe it.

Or ...

Perhaps you suspect it's true and that scares you. Maybe you can't be absolutely sure I'm wrong and that's why you need to yell at me? Could that be it? Time for a bit of self reflection?

Either way, it's not going to make an iota of difference in the grand scheme of things.

We are all just dust motes floating through time and space, my friend. You dont need to worry so much. The universe is unfolding exactly as intended.

However... There are a couple of things we should agree on:

The fact is that the shadows grew long and therefore, time passed. And Tae was out for several hours. Maybe he went out for a bit of afternoon delight himself? Maybe Jimin and Jungkook played Pokemon Go all afternoon, or prayed, or practiced their English, or braided each other's hair.

Regardless of whether they did or didn't fuck, or how many times, or on what surfaces, the time still passed.

And whether I write my blog or not, people will believe what they believe. And they will be gay or they won't be gay.

And even though I never mentioned anything about them fucking in that post, whether you like it or not Jimin and Jungkook might be fucking right now, as you read this.

One last thing...

Please bear in mind, through all of this, that fucking is not the be all and end all of life. Sure its a lot of fun if you do it right but the notion that it's more meaningful than sharing your innermost thoughts and feelings, or giving someone your time and energy, is bullshit.

You can have a roots-deep love for someone and never even think of fucking them. Or you can meet someone in a public toilet and have at it, and leave without even knowing their name.

Sex does not equal love. Fucking is not that big of a big deal.

Unless...

Unless you're fucking someone the patriarchy doesn't want you to fuck. Then its a major issue.

Hear me out.

The need to control who we fuck is based a patriarchal need to control material wealth.

To control material wealth, the patriarchy needs to control reproduction (so they can be sure their wealth stays with their bloodline, because wealth is built over many generations) and to do THAT they need to control womens' bodies.... and to do that, of course they need to control who women fuck. And who men fuck too!

Do you know what the ACTUAL issue is with men who like dick? They don't automatically buy into the patriarchal way of life. (where's the solidarity, lads?)

Why don't they?

Because lifelong monogamy and marriage and nuclear families don't matter as much when you're not equating love with sex, and sex with reproduction. When your goal isn't to accumulate wealth and pass it down to your children.

Same thing applies to women who love women. They aren't focused on being demure and pleasing the men in power. They aren't focused on making themselves wife material. They will challenge the status quo and maybe even (shock! horror!) decide not to have children. How the heck do you make sure your money and power stays in the family, how do you build an empire, when the women are perfectly happy having sex with each other and don't want to love, honour and obey??

And whose fault is all this?

Its got to be the damned queers, right? They're making people think there might be other ways to share your life with those you care about! That's why its important to squash down gayness whenever you can, right, wdcmaxy?

Look at them destroying the fabric of society!

If Jimin and Jungkook ARE fucking every chance they get, good for them. I hope they're balls deep and breathless, hitting all those sweet spots for each other having a really good time.

And if they're not fucking, it actually doesn't matter to me because the way they support each other and share their hearts is beautiful. (I do think they are fucking though)

Truthfully, whatever they're doing, as long as they're happy I'm happy.

Can you say the same, wdcmaxy?

Peace.

#answered asks #fuck the patriarchy #do you #shadow analysis is my new user name

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munson-blurbs · 5 months ago

Text

Living After Midnight (Failed Rockstar!Eddie x Motel Worker!Reader)

♫ Summary: Eddie asked you on a date. Maybe. Possibly. But you definitely accepted. (5.6k words)

♫ CW: slowburn, strangers-to-lovers, angst, anxiety, parental conflict, poverty, mentions of sex, Reader wears a miniskirt, drinking, tipsiness, idiots in love, eventual smut (18+ only, minors DNI)

♫ Divider credit to @hellfire--cult

chapter ten: this foolish lover's game

“I’m telling you: it’s a date.”

Nora flicked through the items on the clearance rack, searching for something in your size. She pulled out a floral shirt, wrinkled her nose, and promptly put it back.

“It’s 1993. A guy and a girl can hang out without it being something romantic,” you retorted, trying to ignore the fuzziness that filled your head at the potential classification of your upcoming night out with Eddie as a ‘date.’

“Very true. But that’s not the case here.” Nora sighed at the limited clothing choices and at your stubbornness. She stalked over to a rack of regularly-priced skirts, evidently on a mission. “And you know it, too, which is why you asked me to help you choose a new outfit.”

You had done that, though you definitely regretted it now. It had been so long since you’d actually gone out with friends that you really did need new clothes, but you had no idea where to start.

Enter Nora: best friend extraordinaire. She was just as great at finding clothes that flatter your figure as she was at being a study buddy. Her opinion mattered to you; it was necessary, especially considering the way you currently teemed with self-doubt.

She plucked a denim miniskirt from the lineup and held it against your waist. “Go try this on,” she said. You reached for the price tag, almost certain that it was out of budget, but she clamped her hand over yours. “My treat. Now, go.”

There was no arguing with her, not while she was shooing you into the dressing room. She clasped your shoulders as she steered you towards a curtain, yanked it open, and shoved you inside. “I’ll wait here,” she said.

You closed the curtain once again, unbuttoning your shorts and letting them fall to the thin carpet below you.

The skirt hung on its hanger, buttons all along the front, and it was impossible not to imagine Eddie being the one undoing them. His nimble fingers would dance across the seam as he positioned himself between your legs. You could practically feel his hands as they crept further upwards towards that dangerously sensitive part of you—

“Can we stop by the food court when you’re done? I’m dying for one of those cinnamon pretzels.”

The sound of Nora’s voice instantly cooled your heating skin. “Y-Yeah, sure,” you stammered.

Focus on that, you silently reprimanded yourself. Focus on Auntie Anne’s or Orange Julius or Panda Express—not Eddie tracing his tongue along your inner thighs.

You stepped into the skirt, warding off any lingering Eddie-related thoughts. Monday night would be like hanging out with Nora or Ben. There was no need to worry about your hair, or your clothes, or your makeup. Eddie was a friend, and only a friend, despite what absurdities your other friends planted in your head.

With the last button fastened, you allowed yourself to glance at your reflection in the mirror. The denim hugged your curves delicately, providing just a hint of what laid beneath without giving too much away. It looked odd paired with the old t-shirt you’d thrown on this morning, but the right top would make a world of difference.

Nora clapped her hands together the moment you opened the curtain. Her brown eyes lit up, and a soft squeal of excitement emanated from her throat.

“You’re gonna have Eddie eating out the palm of your hand,” she declared, reaching out to give you a little spin.

You gently pulled away from her as though it would offset the fluttering low in your stomach. “I told you, it’s—”

“Yeah, I know. Just two friends going to the bar, pretending they don’t wanna bone each other.” Nora rolled her eyes, already sick of the will they-won’t they song-and-dance.

You ducked back into the fitting room to change out of the skirt. “He doesn’t wanna bone me.”

“But you wanna bone him?”

It came out as a question, but you knew she meant as a statement.

“First of all, stop saying ‘bone.’” You hissed, tugging your shorts back over your legs. “Second, Eddie and I are friends, and he’s taking me out for graduation. End of story.”

Nora’s sigh was audible from the other side of the curtain. “Not ‘end of story.’ You didn’t answer my question. Do you wanna b—have sex with Eddie?”

Your hesitation was enough of an answer for her, and though you couldn’t see her face, you were certain she was grinning when she announced, “I knew it!”

“It’s not like that,” you protested. The fitting room was suddenly far too crowded and depleted of oxygen despite you being its only occupant. You threaded the teeth into your shorts zipper and grabbed the skirt, now heavy in your hand. “Yeah, he’s pretty cute, but—”

“But nothing. C’mon, just admit it: you like Eddie.” You could detect a hint of exasperation in her tone. Frustration, even, or confusion as to why you continually denied yourself life’s small pleasures.

You couldn’t answer that, either.

Protest died with the subtle twitch of your lips that gave away the truth. You hated your tells, the ones that swiftly uncovered the feelings you worked diligently to stifle. And you knew that if Nora kept pressing you about this crush, you would eventually break down and divulge it all.

Not just your burgeoning romantic feelings towards Eddie. Not the way you told bad jokes just to see his lopsided smile and the nose crinkle that often accompanied it. Not the multiple occasions when you caught yourself staring at the muscles in his arms and ached to kiss right along the hardened edge of his biceps.

Once you said those thoughts out loud, gave them the weight of spoken words, they became real. Able to hurt you when he inevitably didn’t reciprocate them.

And that terrified you.

“You have a big ol’ crush on him,” Nora continued, “and he has one on you.”

“He doesn’t have a crush on me,” you mumbled, purposely averting your gaze from hers.

Through peripheral vision, you could see her raise one brow. “Says who?”

Says the song lyrics about his ex-girlfriend. But that was too much to explain, so you slapped on a tight smile and shook the thought away. “Never mind. Let’s just pay for this.”

Nora swiped her credit card with an ease that only comes with the luxury of not having to worry about paying the water bill. She never had to dip into her own savings to keep the lights on. Buying her friend a miniskirt for a maybe-date wasn’t going to affect her grocery budget.

“I have the perfect pair of Docs to go with this. You can borrow them,” she said, pointedly adding “for your date.” She was either oblivious or didn’t care that the cashier was eavesdropping on your conversation.

“Not a date.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Nora plucked the bagged skirt from the cashier, flashed her a grateful smile, and shoved it in your direction. “Just answer one question for me—are you gonna wear lace panties underneath this, or cotton?”

When you once again failed to look at her, her grin widened.

“That’s what I thought.”

On Monday evening, you found yourself poised in front of the mirror, still fogged from your shower. The inky blue sky leaked into your room through the time-worn blinds, the sun almost fully faded into nighttime, which meant that Eddie would be knocking on your door at any moment.

The hem of your black fitted t-shirt met the waist of your skirt, the slightest gap between the two fabrics. It wasn’t scandalous by any stretch of the imagination, but it still conveyed one message: you wanted Eddie to look at you. Wanted him to notice your soft skin the way you noticed his flexing muscles, with awe and more lust than you cared to admit.

Did it all reek of desperation? What if Eddie was wearing the sweatpants he’d donned to remove the wallpaper? Just the possibility of him looking at your own outfit, at the effort you put into your appearance, and realizing you’d interpreted a friendly gesture as a date had you cringing.

No, this was a bad idea. You had to back out, now. Claim that you weren’t feeling well, maybe even take some ibuprofen in front of him, and promise a raincheck. You did feel the familiar throbbing that accompanied a tension headache, so it wasn’t a total lie—

Knock knock.

Sweat overrode the antiperspirant you’d lathered on, flooding you with a nervous heat. You frantically wiped your slick palms on the bed sheet like a cat at its scratching post and opened the door.

Eddie's eyes widened and his tongue brushed over his lower lip. There was no hiding the way his gaze dropped to your exposed thighs, drinking in every ounce of visible skin as though it was the only sustenance he’d ever need. His stare was hungry, if only for a moment, before his words broke the trance.

“You look…good. Pretty.” He swallowed thickly and forced himself to meet your eyes. “Sorry…just not used to seeing you all dressed up.”

Pretty. Eddie Munson thought you were pretty. The notion sent serotonin surging through you, a soft giggle passing through your lips. It was embarrassing, this schoolgirl crush, the way a simple word from him rendered you pathetically speechless.

A barrage of compliments perched themselves on your tongue, waiting to be untethered. He looked good, too; beyond that, he looked handsome. His cream colored shirt was baggy around his torso but clung to his biceps, drawing your attention to the vein that ran up his forearm.

You willed yourself to say something, anything, to reciprocate his kind words.

He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans, mirroring your nervous energy as he gently rocked from the heel to the toe of his Reeboks. “We should get going,” he said.

Opportunity slipped from your grasp; anything you said now would seem like pity. Your only response was a nod as you locked the door and started towards the lobby.

Pretty. Pretty. Pretty.

Mom stood behind the desk, flipping through the check-in sheets with the cap end of a pen clenched between her teeth. She looked up, blinking in rapid succession when she saw you and Eddie approaching. You weren’t sure what surprised her more: you going out, or the man accompanying you.

“Well, don’t you two look nice!” She grinned, though the smile didn’t quite reach her tired eyes. “What’s the occasion?”

“Just getting a drink,” you said as casually as you could. “Celebrating my—the wallpaper.” It was a lame finish, one that Mom didn’t quite believe, but she lacked the energy to push further.

Guilt panged in your chest, not just at the lie, but because part of you felt like you were taking advantage of her exhaustion. You couldn’t tell her the real reason for the celebration; bile rose in your throat at the thought. Instead, you smiled and promised to be home before the start of your shift.

“I’ll make sure she behaves,” Eddie added with a mischievous edge, not sexual in nature but still had your stomach doing somersaults. “I know she can be quite the troublemaker.”

Mom laughed at this, so pure and genuine that you were half-tempted to ask Eddie if you could stay here and talk with her all night. Maybe he could break the news to her, since they seemed to get on well enough.

You felt her watch as Eddie opened the door for you and gave the tiniest bow to let you pass, though you didn’t dare look back at her. Not because she wouldn’t approve—just the opposite. Looking at your mother would confirm what you already knew deep down: she’d be beaming at the sight of you going on a date.

If that’s what this was.

Eddie shuffled to walk right by your side, sneakers scuffing against the broken pavement. A flicker of hope ignited within you that he would do something to confirm that this was, in fact, a romantic endeavor and not just two friends getting a drink. Perhaps an arm slung over your shoulder or a hand laced with yours.

There was only the gentle brush of his fingers against yours, knuckles grazing one another as they nearly slotted together. It was taunting, the way they could be a perfect fit if given the chance.

You almost went for it, almost grabbed hold of his hand yourself, but fear had you in its own grasp. Even if the benefit outweighed the risk, you couldn’t stop picturing him tugging his hand away from yours in a humiliating show of rejection.

“You okay? You’re not, like, mad at me again, are you?” Concern creased Eddie’s brows, and your heavy heart realized that the last time you were this quiet around him was after the argument.

“Not at all. Sorry.” You shot him a reassuring smile. “Just lost in my own thoughts.” You sent up a silent prayer that he wouldn’t ask you to elaborate on those thoughts.

Luckily, he just tilted his head towards you, his eyes taking on an even more doe-like quality than usual. “That’s the problem with you smart people: you’re always thinking too much.”

You laughed as you nudged him, your right shoulder colliding with his left. He stumbled slightly, quickly catching himself before he could fully lose his balance.

“Hey!” He yelped, rubbing his upper arm. The muscles beneath it flexed at his touch. “Don’t damage the merchandise.”

“I wouldn’t dare. I…” You shook your nerves loose and faced him, speaking before you fully lost yourself in his full, waiting lips. “I’d never damage merchandise as priceless as you.”

Eddie stopped in his tracks, the compliment seemingly rebooting his brain. Was it too forward? No, it couldn’t have been; he’d called you pretty just moments before. And it wasn’t as if you’d been forward enough to say he was sexy (though he was) or accidentally emasculated him by pointing out how adorable his soft dimples were (another fact).

His exhale was a disbelieving chuckle. “I, uh, don’t think anyone’s called me ‘priceless’ before. ‘Worthless,’ maybe, but…” He trailed off in an attempt to contain it as a lighthearted joke, but it was anchored by an undeniable truth.

If you could, you would wash away the ego-marring stains left behind by those who hurt him. Scrub and scrub until it was once again pristine as though they’d never been tarnished by self-doubt.

“Priceless.” You said it definitively, leaving no room for further argument.

Eddie ducked behind his hair, letting the curly locks dangle over his mouth to mask his flustered smile. You were willing to bet that a blush was spreading across the apples of his cheeks.

Curiosity loosened your inhibitions enough for you to reach out and tuck a few strands behind his ear. Sure enough, a delicate pink tinged his skin. You wanted to kiss it until your lips grew swollen from where his stubble scratched them raw.

Doing that would require something far more potent than inquisitiveness.

There was a decent crowd that night, not as packed as the weekend would have been, but there were enough people that only one empty stool remained in front of the bar. Eddie gestured to it, offering you the seat just as he had on the subway last week.

You tucked the denim fabric of your skirt behind your thighs as you sat. Eddie watched every movement, an unreadable desire darkening his expression, as if he wished it were his fingers on your skin.

Your smile seemed to snap him from his trance. He waved down the bartender, who held up her forefinger to signal she would be right over.

A shadow draped over you as you scanned the liquor-cluttered shelves, bathing you in a welcoming darkness. Protection. Eddie’s arms framed your torso, his hands planted firmly on the bartop. And when you lightly grasped his wrist, your thumb rubbing against the soft hairs on his arm, you could have sworn you felt the tension leave his body in one swift exhale.

“What are you gonna get?” The grainy pop music playing from the speakers and a cacophony of neighboring conversations muffled his voice, and he had to shout just to be heard.

“A vodka tonic.” Simple, classic, and most importantly—not expensive. Though you probably should let him be the judge of that, considering it was his treat. “If that’s okay?”

Eddie laughed softly and nodded. “It’s your night, Heiress.” The tip of his tongue swiped over his lower lip.

He ordered your drink first, then placed his order for whatever beer was on tap before declining to open a tab. Your chest went slightly concave; you should have followed his lead and ordered the cheaper option.

As if sensing your guilt, Eddie pulled back enough to look you in the eye. “It’s your night,” he repeated, grabbing your short, stout glass and placing it in your hand. He raised his own taller mug, proposing a toast. “To a badass future social worker and all of the lives she’s gonna change. For the better,” he added quickly.

Before he could clink his glass to yours, you locked eyes with him. The brown eyes that steeled themselves against you the night he first checked into the motel were now pillow-soft, beckoning you to fall. He may not have even been aware of it himself.

“To the coolest rockstar I know,” you said, allowing the lips of your glasses to touch. “And the second-coolest guest to ever stay at the motel.”

Eddie raised a brow. “Second?”

“You really think you’re cooler than Phyllis?”

“Touché.” He relented with a smirk, taking a swig of his drink that left a foamy mustache on his upper lip. Without a second thought, he licked it away.

The movement enraptured you: his tongue swiping over his skin, leaving no residue in its wake. That same tongue that peeked out from his mouth when he was focused, a simple muscle, but it held your attention for a beat too long.

“Are you…” Eddie gestured towards your vodka tonic, and you realized you hadn’t even taken a sip.

Cheers to embarrassing yourself ten minutes into the date. Non-date. Whatever it was.

The vodka’s bitterness and the bubbles from the tonic water seeped into your tongue. You savored the burn as you swallowed. It had been so long since you’d had a drink, and just the first taste had you buzzing. If you didn’t pace yourself properly, you’d be tipsy far too soon.

The sound system crackled and microphone feedback shot through the bar. You and Eddie winced in unison, each taking a gulp of your drinks.

A man in his mid-thirties, balding with a goatee, stood at a makeshift stage at the back of the bar. “Welcome to Music Mondays here at The Brink. That’s right…it’s karaoke night!”

There was a smattering of applause that didn’t match the emcee’s enthusiasm, but he remained undeterred.

“Sign up here with your name and your song, and we’ll get started in a few minutes. Drink that liquid courage and come on down!” The microphone screeched once more as he slid it back into the stand.

You turned to Eddie, your eyes wide with mischief. “You’re gonna do it, right?”

Eddie scoffed. “Fuck, no. I’m not getting up there and making a fool of myself.”

“But it’s my night,” you reminded him. “You said so yourself.”

He looked poised to argue, one hand gripped tightly around the mug’s handle, his mouth ready to say no. But then you batted your eyelashes and pouted, all in jest. A dramatic showing that you didn’t expect would convince him.

A wry smile betrayed his tough exterior as his thumb ghosted your lower lip. Lightning crackled at his touch, soft as it was, illuminating your bones and surging through your veins. When he pulled back, Adam's apple bobbing in his throat, a light red stain tinged his skin. If he noticed it, he made no attempt to wipe it off.

“It is your night,” he mused, gaze flickering to your mouth before promptly returning to your eyes. When you lit up in anticipation of him conceding, he couldn’t help but grin back. “One song. And I’m choosing it.”

You couldn’t argue with him, not when his touch still lingered on your lip. He disappeared for a moment to add his name to the list. As soon as he was out of sight, you took a much larger gulp of your drink. A trickle escaped out of the corner of your mouth, and you haphazardly swiped at it with the back of your hand, lest it ruin the shirt you’d picked out especially for the date.

This isn’t a date. The reminder was as harsh as the vodka itself. You lifted the glass once more and drained it until the half-melted ice cubes clicked against your teeth. Whatever this evening was, you needed to relax. Enjoy Eddie’s company without reading too much into his every move.

You turned your attention to the TV mounted above the shelves, engrossing yourself in the scrolling closed captions. A weatherman announced that this summer was going to be a ‘scorcher,’ and though he said it with a plastic grin, you inwardly cringed at the impact the air conditioning would have on the electric bill.

“I’m up third.” Eddie’s voice broke in, turning the upcoming weather into a distant memory. He raised his brows when he saw your glass, now empty on the sticky bartop. “You finished that already?”

“Mhm.” Your smile was sloppier than you intended, your head starting to float from your neck as tipsiness crept in.

Eddie breathed out, shaking his head with a glimmer of a smirk. You couldn’t tell if he was annoyed or impressed, and you didn’t have time to ask before he waved over the bartender. “Just water, please.” He nodded his thanks when she slid it over. “Drink,” he said to you, and you dutifully obliged.

“What song did you pick out?” Something that is supposed to be screamed more than sung, you assumed.

He just shook his head again and swallowed more beer. “It’s a surprise.” His eyes twinkled when he said it, and you wondered if his choice erred more on the side of Madonna than Metallica.

A woman got up on stage and began her rousing rendition of Girls Just Wanna Have Fun.

Peppy? Upbeat? A great way to kick off karaoke night? Absolutely.

On-key? Not even close.

“If you ever start a new band, you should ask her to join.” You chinpointed towards the woman currently butchering the Cyndi Lauper classic. “She’s got that star power, I think.”

Eddie snorted but composed himself quickly to play into your joke. “I’m worried she’d outshine me.” He widened his eyes in faux concern. “Go solo and leave me behind, y’know?”

“She’ll probably steal all of your groupies, too,” you added, tutting as if to say, what a shame.

“Even you?”

You cocked your brow. “Who said I’m your groupie?”

He leaned his elbow against the bar, mouth slackjaw at your rejection. Disbelieving laughter left his throat in a huff.

“I take you out, treat you to the best watered-down drink this city has to offer, and this is the thanks I get?” His curls brushed against his cheeks when he shook his head. “Who would you be a groupie for? Wait, no; lemme guess.” He tapped his finger to his chin. “New Kids on the Block? Boyz II Men?”

“I think I’d die if Joey McIntyre so much as looked at me.” You hadn’t meant to say that aloud. The watered-down or not, the alcohol was certainly turning sober thoughts into tipsy words.

Eddie chugged half of the beer, watching as the woman on stage finished her song and left with a triumphant bow. “Pretty sure your shitty taste in music is what plays at the gates of Hell,” he said to you.

Your response was a mere flick of your middle finger.

A man in a suit took the stage next, loosening his tie as he positioned himself behind the microphone. A group of similarly-dressed men started hooting and hollering obnoxiously the moment the opening chords to Don’t Stop Believin’ blared through the sound system.

You looked back to Eddie. If he was nervous about singing karaoke, he didn’t show it. His shoulders were relaxed, his posture much less tense than on the walk to the bar. Maybe the alcohol loosened him up as it had you.

“What about you?” You asked. “Whose groupie would you be?”

“Easy,” he said, not missing a beat. “Joan Jett. Total badass, killer musician, and hot as hell.” He nodded to confirm his choice before leaning in and loudly whispering. “Bad Reputation was basically my secret anthem in high school.”

You laughed. “Did you imagine it playing in the background when you walked down the halls?”

“Oh, absolutely.” Eddie grinned and polished off his beer.

His confession warmed you—or maybe that was just the vodka working its way through your bloodstream. Regardless, you were intrigued by the glimpse into his past and found yourself hungry for more.

“Can I ask you a non-groupie related question?”

“Shoot.”

Your tongue was heavy, the resulting slurring softening your words. “If your hometown is so shitty, why are you trying to go back?”

He loosened a chuckle, glancing at the shelves of booze before looking back to you. “My uncle still lives there. He, ah, he raised me after my dad split and my mom…y’know.” Eddie cleared his throat and managed a small smile. “Why? You want me to stick around?”

The hair on his forearm tickled when he slid it over to nudge you, his pinky finger overlapping yours.

Of course you wanted him to stick around. You’d smear honey all over the motel’s siding to lure more bees, tempt them to build their nests among the sticky sweetness, just so he would have a reason to stay.

The man on stage belted out his final “don’t stop believin’” as his buddies enveloped him in drunken hugs.

“All right!” The emcee bleated into the microphone. “Next up, we have…” He checked the sign-up sheet. “…Eddie! Let’s give him a hand, folks.”

A smattering of applause echoed throughout the room, the excitement of karaoke night already dwindling. If Eddie noticed, he didn’t show it.

“This one’s for you, Heiress.” He winked and sprinted towards the stage.

Eddie pressed his foot on the microphone stand, adjusting it so it was level with his lips. His fingers curled around its neck, dramatically tugging it closer as the instrumentals piped through the sound system.

Well, since my baby left me Well, I found a new place to dwell Well, it's down at the end of Lonely Street At Heartbreak Hotel

His hips swung back and forth, the gyrations not quite as precise as Elvis’s, but he still snapped them in time with the staccato guitar chords. The right heel of his sneakers tapped the floor as he continued, voice dipping into his lower register.

Where I'll be, I'll be so lonely, baby Well, I'm so lonely I'll be so lonely, I could die

Free hand pressed to his heart, Eddie leaned in your direction and tilted the mic stand while he sang. The movements were reminiscent of how a man would dance with someone he loved, impassioned yet graceful. Charisma oozed from every pore, his natural command of the stage an enduring reminder of his brief foray into rock stardom.

The other patrons faded into the background as his eyes fixed on you, a personal serenade rather than karaoke night amongst a sea of drunks. Easiness weaved through each note he sang, his body loosening and his lips curving into a smile when you let out a vodka-fueled whoop of admiration.

Now, the bellhop's tears keep flowin' And the desk clerk's dressed in black Well, they've been so long on Lonely Street Well, they'll never, they'll never look back

Eddie pointed to you when he referenced the desk clerk, the crowd following his every move. The heat of their stares only exacerbated the warmth that the alcohol already sent coursing through you, but you felt no need to hide. The rich timbre of his voice was a magnetic pull, drawing you in until it echoed deep in your bones.

Although it's always crowded But you still can find some room For broken hearted lovers To cry there in their gloom Where they get so, they get so lonely, baby Well, they're so lonely They'll be so lonely, they could die

He ended the song with one final swing of his hips, one foot turned inward in an Elvis-esque pose. If anyone else applauded for him, it couldn’t be heard over the sound of your cheers.

He made a beeline for you. “Did that live up to your expectations?” Sweat dripped from his flushed forehead and down his temples.

“Exceeded them, actually.”

The bartender slid over two shot glasses filled with amber liquid. “On the house,” she explained when you and Eddie looked at her in confusion.

You shouldn’t. The TV set that broadcasted the news showed that it was nearly nine o’clock and you were already tipsy from the one drink. Adding a shot—and subsequently mixing liquor—was a recipe for disaster.

“You don’t have to drink it if you don’t wanna,” Eddie said. “I’ll take them both.”

With a shake of your head, you took the glass nearest you and downed it, the whiskey burning stronger than you had anticipated. Tears reflexively welled in your eyes, leaving you clinging to the hope that you had blinked them away before Eddie could notice.

He let out a soft, low whistle. “Well, okay then.” His own shot disappeared past his grimacing lips.

A familiar synthesized beat replaced the idle hum of conversation as a middle-aged woman began her song. Eddie threw back his head when he heard it, groaning as though the ‘80s hit left him in agony.

“You’re such a music snob,” you lamented, reaching out with both of your hands to grab onto his. If this is what liquid courage felt like, you were more than happy to ride that wave. “There’s more to life than heavy metal.”

“I just sang Elvis!” He protested, but his efforts were all in vain as you hopped off of the barstool and led him away from your empty shot glasses. “Heiress…” His tone was a warning, one that you promptly ignored.

You let your gaze meet his, the vodka-and-whiskey combination working overtime to stifle your nerves.

“Dance with me.”

Eddie laughed. “You’re tipsy.”

“I’m tipsy and I want you to dance with me.”

“You wanna dance, huh?” He laughed again when you nodded. “All right; let’s dance.”

Eddie’s hands slid down to your wrists and adjusted your arms so they draped over his shoulders, his curls tickling your fingers when they clasped behind his neck. He hesitated for a second before letting his own fingertips rest on your waist, careful to avoid dipping below the small of your back.

Watching, I keep waiting, still anticipating love Never hesitating to become the fated ones

The current performer was marginally better than the first two, but her voice wasn’t nearly as polished as Eddie’s. She kept getting too close to the mic, the lyrics muffled each time her purple-lipsticked mouth grazed the cover.

You inched forward, your chest against Eddie’s as the two of you swayed in tandem. His fingers flexed before tugging you closer, evidence that you weren’t the only one affected by the shot.

“Can’t remember the last time I heard this song,” he mused wistfully. “Probably my senior prom. The last one, anyway.”

“You had more than one senior prom?”

His cheeks, already pinkened from the liquor, flushed a deeper shade of red. “Yeah, it, uh, took me a few tries to graduate,” Eddie admitted. “But I did it.” A sheepish smile still held a twinge of pride.

“You did it.”

“Yeah.” One arm reached back to grasp your hand and twirl you around, and you breathed an audible sigh of relief when the room didn’t spin with you. “But tonight,” he grinned, “is all about you.”

You. Not the motel or its crumbling financial infrastructure. Not the guests or your parents. Not school or exams or term papers. Just you.

An involuntary giggle wriggled its way up and you ducked your head to hide it, your forehead brushing against Eddie’s lips. Did he purse them slightly in a hint of a kiss, or was that a figment of your imagination?

Turning and returning to some secret place inside Watching in slow motion as you turn my way and say Take my breath away

“You okay?” Eddie asked, a smile in his voice.

“Mhm. Just happy.”

“Yeah? Good.” His forefinger tucked under your chin and tilted it upwards, granting him a better look at you. The tip of his tongue parted his lips and swiped over the whiskey-scented residue. “You deserve to be happy.”

You did deserve to be happy. You deserved joyful moments in your life, people who surrounded you in sunshine even when rain poured.

My love, take my breath away My love, take my breath away

You deserved Eddie.

Standing before you, his eyes never strayed from your form, flicking from your face to where his hands gripped your waist. His chest rose and fell in time with the music.

“I…” You swallowed your fear, already tempered by tipsiness, curling your fingers into the back of his ribbed t-shirt collar.

Desire rippled down your spine and you leaned in to close that godforsaken gap, already tasting him on your tongue.

But not before he pulled away.

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@sidthedollface2 @eddies-stinky-battle-jacket @mysteris-things @mrsjellymunson @josephquinnsfreckles

@the-disaster-in-waiting @eddielowe @hugdealer @rip-quizilla @munson-girl

@fishwithtitz @costellation-hunter @cloudroomblog @emsgoodthinkin

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