#its never going to be enough. I'm never going to be sane | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

i-cant-sing · 3 months ago

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TT AU PART 13

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

"I cant do this."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Silas handed you the invite.

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

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

A pompous ass?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jerk.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Male friends?" She asked.

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

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

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

"Tennis?"

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

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

An idea popped in her head.

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

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

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

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

What is Benny doing here?

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

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

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

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

What the hell is Benny doing here?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lady Scarlett? Fitting name.

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

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

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

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

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

Lady Scarlett is a man.

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

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

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

What? No, no way she knows-

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

She knows!

"How- how did you-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

-the blonde from the club.

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

And then he tipped his hat at you.

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

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

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

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

"I think I saw Jack the Ripper."

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

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

"And who did you think the murderer was?"

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

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

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

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

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

Whats that supposed to mean?

"Did you see anyone familiar there?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You shake your head. "Its too obvious."

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

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

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

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

"Aveline's Asylum"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

How convenient.

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

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

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

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

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

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

And just like that, everything fell into place.

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

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

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

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

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

Benny is such a gentleman.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Like he could tell a difference-”

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

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

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

It was the latter. Always.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What the hell? I wasn’t ready-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

You watched Silas leave you there standing dumbfounded.

Did he really just threaten me?

This bitch.

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

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

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

Jack the Ripper!

Of course, the murder case!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ugh! Stop being so charming, Benny!

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

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

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

Your eyes studied him.

“Did you meet someone new?”

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

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

Stupid Benny. Annoying Benny.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Or?” You sneered at him to continue.

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

I’m going to kill him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What rings?” She asked, feigning innocence.

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

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

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

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

So what?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He lied.

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

Why was he there?

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

Why was he there?

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

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

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

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

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

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

Why did he lie?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

How dare he?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What the hell are you doing here?”

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

“No. Now leave.”

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Because… he’s dead.”

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

God, did he feel like shit now.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Not to let Silas down.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Damn. Thats… dark. And sad.

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

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

Your performance was barely passable.

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

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

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

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

“Okay.”

Okay?

“What?”

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What the hell?

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

What are you doing?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“34- was that 34 turns, Silas?”

Thirty four? Thirty four pirouettes?!

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

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

What the hell just happened?

Its hot. Its hot. I’m burning up!

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

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

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

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

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

And he smiled proudly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Ripper is here.

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

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

Yall better send comment and send ask.

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

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we-fucked-up-evolution · 2 months ago

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being european today is its own kind of hell because it's 2pm and i've already checked us election results 25 times, despite the fact that it's only like 8am in new york and we won't know anything until like 4am my time

some part of my brain is raging against the fact that i know more about us politics than the politics of the country i actually live in, like it's not normal that so many of us not only know what swing states are, but how many there are this election and which states they are when most of us have never set foot in the usa, but that's the way the world rolls i guess

anyway, americans who are just starting their days and those of you still sleeping, i'm not gonna tell you to go out and vote because everyone in the world has been telling you that for days. but i hope that you vote for harris today, and that when i wake up tomorrow morning i won't experience the same feeling i and so many others felt in 2016. the disbelief, the dread, the horror, the sadness and the powerlessness, there's enough of that to go around these days. i hope that i wake up tomorrow to see that your country has elected a woman who is deeply flawed but mostly sane and rational, someone who won't threaten to wage war on countries they couldn't even place on a map just because they can.

#us politics #us elections #election 2024 #presidential election #also fellow europeans #i hope you sleep well tonight #i hope tomorrow brings us all some relief

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hayatoseyepatch · 4 months ago

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Description: Chika never believed in love, he thought it was pointless and only showed weakness. He had always seen it as an utter waste of time. So he never expected you to walk in his life, his world turning on its axis as he had one tought in mind. He needed to make you his. Character: Takiishi Chika Word Count: 2.3k Contains: Fem!Reader x Takiishi Chika. SMUT. cw: obsessive behavior, stalking, mentions of violence, panty stealing, mentions of male masturbation, p in v, fingering, mentions of baby trapping, honestly the sex is pretty vanilla by my standards. (Not proofread, it's me are we surprised?)

Author's Note: This was a request to do a scenario with enamored Chika. I'm still getting the groove for writing for him since there's so little information on him. But I hope you still enjoy! From what we know I can't really picture him being too much of a romantic so I put a little twist on it, I hope that's okay!! (′ꈍᴗꈍ‵)♡

Chika Takiishi wasn’t often excited by anything, something Endo had desperately tried to remedy since he had left Furin. Showering him with anything he could possibly want, need, or desire. But none of it was ever enough, Endo’s excitement as he showered him in affection and gifts only served to annoy him. Often times to the point of infuriation, punctuating his emotions with his fist. His life had lost its spark, nothing filled him with any sort of thrill. He walked aimlessly next to Endo, he was droning on about something that he couldn’t care less about, in truth he had drowned out his voice ages ago. They had walked into the nail salon, waiting for his nail technician to seat him. His ears picked up on a noise, it was sugary sweet and filled his body with a chill. The sound of a woman’s laughter, something so ordinary, so mundane. So why did it make his face hot? Why did he want to hear more of it? His head turned to the side following the sound, his throat tightened, an odd constricting feeling that made it hard to swallow a lump that formed in his throat. Sitting in the station next to the one he usually sat was a woman, perhaps the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

Chika never believed in love, he thought it was pointless and only showed weakness. He had always seen it as an utter waste of time, not like anyone could fall in love with someone like him. Well, no one entirely sane anyway. His heart raced in his chest when he looked at her though, what was happening to him? He didn’t even know this woman's name, and yet she already had this much of an effect on him. He tilted his head, narrowing his eyes as he took her in. The sound of his name being called snapping him out of his daze. His face felt hot once more, for once in his life he felt shameful for staring. Snapping his gaze to the call of his name, he glowered at his companion. “Shut up.” He barked, but unlike every other time he had called for Endo to silence himself, this time lacked the usual cold venom that laced his tone. Even Endo was taken aback by the difference in his tone, already noting that Chika’s attention was already diverted back to the woman. The corners of Endo’s lips curled at the enamored look in his eyes.

It had been a week since that encounter, and for some reason, Chika could not wipe you from his mind. It irritated him, you both had never even so much as exchanged a word. But he was waking in the middle of the night, your face and the sound of your voice in his mind as his hands slipped beneath the covers. Endo had been particularly excited the next day, the was more of a bounce to his step than usual as he all but dragged Chika to a café on the other side of town. He was already annoyed, why were they going so far? This wasn’t the café they usually went to, why were they here? It wasn’t until he heard that voice, your voice, call out a welcome that he had unclenched the fist he was prepared to hit the other man with. His eyes alight with mirth as he took you in. He wouldn’t question how Endo had found out where you worked but seeing you again tugged his lips upward in a foreign expression. From the first moment your voice addressed him directly, he was sure that no matter what it took he would make you his.

The two men had become regulars at your café, you often caught the long-haired man’s eyes on you. It made a shiver course through your spine, his golden eyes were so intense you felt like they were looking into your very soul. What you didn’t know was each night as you walked home those eyes were still locked on your form, following behind at a distance. One night in particular you could swear you heard the anguished sounds of screams no too far behind you, only causing you to quicken your pace. Someone had been following you, and that someone wasn’t Chika. His eyes following the man as he followed your route, ill intent in his eyes. In moments Chika was listening to the sounds of his screams, his knuckles and cheek were decorated with the man’s blood. How dare he try and bruise his beautiful rose’s petals. Nothing would happen to you, he would make sure of it.

The next day, Chika spoke the first words other than his order to you, With a blank expression and a bored tone he began to speak. “You should be more careful walking home alone at night.” You blinked, shocked he was not only speaking to you so casually, but mentioning your night time habits. “Excuse me?” Your words came out stuttered, taken aback by his bluntness. He shrugged as if it were the most plain thing in the world. “Someone was following you last night, you should be more careful. I’ll walk you home tonight.” Chika left no room to argue, turning on his heel with his coffee in his hand as he took his usual seat in a booth in the corner, leaving you dumbfounded at his forwardness. Sure enough though, he waited for you outside that night. Ignoring your protests to walk you home as he just began walking in the direction you normally took.

That night was only the first of many. More often than not, Chika insisted upon walking you home, the two of you in comfortable silence as he escorted you safely to the front door of your apartment building. Eventually, you had grown tired of the silence, filling it with the sound of your voice, telling him about your day. He was an excellent listener, committing every word to memory. Oh, that man who was rude to you because you had gotten his coffee order wrong? He remembered him, distinctly he also remembered the way his nose had let out the most satisfying crunch under his fist as he broke it for daring to speak to you that way.

Eventually, you had invited him inside for something to eat one night. His eyes had scanned your dwelling, the scent of you everywhere, he thought he might go crazy. Taking the opportunity of you cooking to excuse himself to the bathroom. His mouth practically watered as he saw your hamper sitting in the room. Plucking your panties from the top of the bin, the fabric still warm from having been on your body all day. Silently slipping them into his pocket before joining you in his dining room for dinner. That night he had the most intense orgasm he had ever experienced, the scent of your cunt on his nose as he all but suffocated himself in the fabric. His head swimming with the thought of how you would taste on his lips, his hand working over his shaft as he pictured the way you would cry out his name as his greedy tongue lapped at your cunt. His back arched off the bed as he fucked his fist, releasing with a loud call of your name that came out muffled against the fabric that covered his face. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could continue like this, needed desperately to have you.

It was odd for Chika to miss a day, he never missed a day walking you home. You were not sure why, but you were worried about him. Missed his presence. It wasn’t until late that night that there was a knock on your front door. Seeing a glimpse of his brightly colored hair in the peephole you threw the door open. A light gasp falling from your lips as he stood there, face and knuckles covered in blood. You ushered him inside, dragging him to the bathroom. With a damp cloth, you cared for him, wiping the red from his skin. Not asking what happened, only busying yourself with cleaning him. You were so close, his breath caught in his throat. He couldn’t help it any longer. Large hands gripped your waist, standing to his full height as he captured your lips with his own. The kiss was filled with an intense hunger from the start, his tongue bullying its way past your lips. The kiss was forceful, needy, and filled with desperation. Tongues dancing and teeth clashing as he backed you out of the bathroom and into our joining bedroom.

He lifted you by the backs of your knees with ease, walking you to where you both toppled onto your mattress. He was back on you in moments, arms caging you in as he claimed your lips once more. His mouth set off a trail of kisses until his lips pressed against your ear, breaths panting against the sensitive skin as he spoke. “You have no idea how long I’ve been dying to have you.” He groaned “I can't tell you how many times I fucked my fist at the thought of it being your cunt. I can't tell you how many times I would stay up at night wishing it was you that I fucked into the mattress. I don't think you understand how desperate I am for you” His words went straight to your cunt, he pressed his lips against your neck, nipping at the exposed skin. Bringing you close to his chest, giving you no chance for escape. Chika took his time, touching you slowly, building up the already heavy tension even more. He wanted to be impatient, he wanted to be selfish and have you in every single way he wanted, but he wasn't going to do that. He wanted to savor the moment, he wanted to take everything you had to give him.

“Takiishi, please.” Came the saccharine sound of your voice, back arching off the bed. Your hips grinding against his own in a desperate search for friction. Well, Chika thought he was going to take his time, but the desperation in your voice left no room for argument. His hand trailed between your legs, tugging your panties to the side with ease. Running his fingertips up the slick, teasing the sensitive nub. His free hand pushed p the loose fabric of your sleep shirt, exposing your tits to the cold air of the room. Breaking the kiss as he trailed down giving attention to your chest, tongue lolling out of his mouth wrapping around the perked bud keeping eyes trained on your own. The sounds of your moans meeting his ears had his fingers trailing downward, your dripping entrance accommodating two of his long fingers easily as he eased them inside of you. His fingers set a steady pace, the sounds of your squelching heat filling the room, sounds that were just as quickly muffled by the moans that escaped your lips. He continued fingering you, and once he felt if you were prepped enough he pulled back. Relishing in the whine that slips from your lips at the lost of his fingers. Sticking the digits in his mouth he tastes your essence, eyes rolling back as he groaned around his own fingers at your taste.

Chika stands as he strips himself down, eyes locked on you as he watches you admire his form. Crawling back on the bed, his hands coming to your thighs as he nudges the tip of his cock against your entrance. Taking a hold of his length, as he taps your clit a few times with the head of his cock, effectively coating himself in your arousal. His golden eyes bore into your own as his cock probes your entrance. Sinking in, he felt weak, his body shivering harshly at the feeling of your velvety walls suffocating his cock. Groaning out as he tossed his head back, bottoming out. He waited there for a moment, sitting with his cock fully sheathed inside you letting you accommodate his size, resisting the urge to fill you up right then and there. Hands came to your hips as he growled out pulling out to where his tip was just barely visible before slamming right back into you. He sets a rough pace from the start, the feeling of your nails digging into his back mixing pleasure with pain in a way that made his mouth water.

His hand travels between your bodies, his index and middle finger rubbing tight circles as his cock never stops its assault on your cunt, overstimulating you with intense pleasure. He felt your cunt spasm around his cock, his fingers picking up their pace, dropping his mouth to your ear once more. “You gonna come for me bunny? I can feel the way that cute little pussy is strangling my cock, its okay baby go on cum for me wanna feel you camp down on my cock while I fill you to the brim.” He groans, his own coil tightening in his belly. He knew from the moment he sunk into you he wouldn't last long. Having craved this moment for far too long, but he’d hold out, wouldn’t burst until you had. He watched, hovering over you as your eyes rolled back, a loud cry of his name falling from your lips as you were tossed over the edge, walls clamping down on his cock as he fucked you through your orgasm. Your release sends him hurtling toward his own, hips slapping violently against yours as he paints your insides with a loud scream of your name. His thrusts slow making sure he had filled you with every drop he had to offer. Heart racing, as his arms wrap around you and he pulls your trembling form to his chest, as you both lay there catching your breaths he can only hope his seed would stick. Because if you were round with his child there was no escaping him, was there?

Dividers by saradika-graphics & cafekitsune. Writing & character banner by me. If you enjoyed it, consider taking a look at my masterlist: here.

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qqueenofhades · 6 months ago

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I think the Aaron Sorkin fic people are writing about the convention to be extremely silly. It's going to be Biden. And if Biden's health takes a downturn and he feels the need to step down its going tk be Harris. This fantasy where we skip over her to whip up two random white guys(or like maaaybe Witmer) and somehow cruise to victory instead of fragmenting the party months before the election is simply not going to happen.

Look, I'm just saying, I got an email from the Biden campaign this morning where they seemed pretty darn happy with the actual (i.e. not-bloviating media) results of the debate: $38 million raised in 4 days ($30 million from individual small-dollar donors), 10K new volunteers in a week, 3x surge in campaign volunteers for battleground states, essentially no change or even a modest boost in the polls. So I think at this point, we can cautiously conclude the following things:

The debate looked bad for Biden, perhaps, but doesn't seem to have hurt him nearly as much the incredibly bad-faith BIDEN NEEDS TO STEP DOWN NOW takes being pumped out by the NYT and its other compatriots would suggest. Especially when these same media outlets have been gleefully sabotaging Biden at every turn for years already and whose fake-sanctimonious hand-wringing "for the good of the nation" pieces honestly should get them dropped into Superhell for Bad Journalists;

Biden went to Raleigh NC right after the debate and gave a fiery rally speech that was very well received. Now, I don't know why we didn't have that Biden at the debate, but it was the same night and there clearly was not any "cOgnItiVe dEcLinE" happening there (also Biden has a stutter and has for literally his entire life, and had a cold on debate night, so it was just an unfortunate confluence of factors)

There are very few actually undecided voters in this election (once again: HOW???) and those who tuned into the debate were largely already convinced of which candidate they were voting for and this didn't do much to change their minds. Just like, you know, pretty much every other debate in the history of presidential elections.

Ordinary voters, and not mainstream media outlets with BIDEN IZ BAD goggles clamped over their eyes, were able to see Trump's insane Gish gallops, lies, and full-blown dementia; this isn't going to get any better for him when he's already lost 20%-25% of GOP voters in every state primary and still is going to be sentenced in his criminal trial;

The D.C. political elite screaming about how Biden should step down (FOUR MONTHS BEFORE THE ELECTION) and leave the Democrats to start from scratch with some Star Chamber-selected candidate with no money and no incumbency record and no organization apparatus and a divided party are either fucking weapons grade morons or working secretly for Trump, because that IS in fact the best way to lose the election;

Such speculation seems to fall chiefly on Gavin Newsom, who (to his credit) has shut down any and all suggestion that he should try to step in and take the place of an incumbent who has won every state primary with 90% or more, because he's remotely sane and understands that this year is too important to fuck around with;

I've somehow never seen any suggestion that Biden should step aside for the duly elected (brown, female) Vice President, because everyone seems to think some Young Miraculous White Guy is coming and/or should step in;

All this while SCOTUS is clearly so confident of Trump getting back in that it's willing to grant him Absolute God King status pre- and post-emptively;

Yes, Biden needs to up his game before the next debate (though that's on Fox News iirc, blargh), but I think it's far enough post-debate that we can say it was bad but did not sink him, and if anything, reinforced the fact to many ordinary, non-brainwormed voters that Biden is old (which has been the number one chief theme of news coverage for four years and is no surprise to anyone) but is a decent and principled man doing a good job, while Trump is an absolute gibbering insane orange shitmonger fascist. I don't think he did himself any favors in that regard.

....anyway. The point is, do not be fucking insane people, Biden is not going to step down and frankly shouldn't, don't read the NYT (as noted, they've openly admitted to sabotaging him for personal ego reasons so I don't know why the hell anyone would listen to what they have to say about him), this is still an eminently winnable election, and let's go get those motherfucking fascists. I want Trump in jail and all of SCOTUS and the MAGAGOP fucking crying over it because they fucking suck. Let's go.

#anonymous #ask #politics for ts #vote and get off my lawn

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octonerd · 1 month ago

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Two hats swap AU! / Kind of overall swap AU Siffrin the ever-dashing and elusive rogue and their party journey to save the world from an entity known as The Jamboree, who seeks to trap all of Vauguard in an endless dance. The party is comprised of a dorky nerd, a possibly-blasphemous housemaiden and a superstitious archeologist (oh also there's a fisherman..woman?). i will draw the rest of the groups designs soon enough... click read more for more info!!!! GRRRRRRR PLS READ ITTTT

okay so this au just started as a loop human design but like the idea of a whole ass role swap au began to like start spinning around in my head, its all built around Sif's control issues, as the star actor/director, rather than avoidance. This is represented in Loop's more performative getup/look and then reversed for Stardust's (og siffrin) design, with the consequences of stardust's loops being they avoid taking responsibility entirely and hide away.

also for less name confusion: Siffrin = Loop Stardust = Siffrin

oh also the whole group is swapped! including bonnie who just isnt here (Petronille is here instead) Isabeau is a Dork who used to be a rough and tough tomboy as a kid (i can actually relate) Odile is someone who looks to more cultural or spiritual answer's to things and is actually an archeologist! she's fr a researcher and yes its due to backstory reasons. Mirabelle is a housemaiden, who despite growing up in a house (orphaned/didn't really get a choice), She never quite grew to love change as much as the housemaiden's who raised her would've hoped. She wasn't a hero by any means but going from an aimless young adult who was afraid to try new things to having the world's fate sprung upon you changes you whether you like it or not. pls pls if yall have any suggestions/idea just comment/dm them!!! i will bite ya'll i swear I'm very sane and normal pls...

#isat #isat spoilers #in stars and time #isat siffrin #isat loop #two hats ending #two hats spoilers #GUYSSS I MADE A NEW AU...WHAT SHOULD I DO WITH IT #SHAKES YOU GRGRGRGRRRRRR

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travelling-wanderer · 1 year ago

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💜:Hey(I'm new in your blog)

I have a little request about Jax x Reader: What if Reader ignored Jax causing him to get kind of angry about it and Jax goes into Reader's room and finds Reader diary (Reader not being in the room).

(Do it if you want)(^w^).

・﹒・ jealousy, jealousy - request

Other Request by anon: **konck** **knock** **knock** Headcanon de Jax the amazing digital circus or jelouse....? Sorry i don't good with inglish :"<

Summary: You had hung out with Kinger quote often, he had become someone who you felt bad for and wanted to make sure he never felt alone. You wound up genuinely enjoying his company and had become good friends with. However- Jax didn't like that. He had found and taken your diary and had read from it just to show how much he wanted your attention.

Warnings: None

Pairing: Jax x GN!reader

Notes: Hello! I got 2 separate requests and combined them into one since it seemed fitting!

The Digital Circus had very few members, yet you always found someone to interact with here, whether it was Gangle or Kinger, but you never felt too lonely. However, you did keep a small diary to keep yourself sane, writing down thoughts and what happened during the "day" helped to keep you grounded here and from truly going insane. But it was private of course, you wanted absolutely nobody to read it under any circumstances. You always kept it in a chest right in front of your bed along with a few other items that you grew close to and wanted to keep.

You especially didn't want one person to read it- Jax. He was someone who would use that shit as blackmail against you and force you to do things you definitely would not prefer to do. Mainly considering you jotted down the possibility of forming a crush on him, it wasn't a sure thing, just a "maybe" thing. He often antagonized everyone and was a huge asshole, but there was just something so tantalizing about him, you couldn't help but want to learn more about him and spend time with him.

So, naturally, you ignored him, in fear of actually crushing on him and making it obvious nonetheless. Nobody could blame you as he was the most deplorable out of everyone. You ignored his taunting, his smug smiles, his pranks, you ignored it all in favor of remaining neutral to his mischievous self. Jax didn't say anything about it, but Ragatha worried that you would eventually break from letting him get to you after a while. It was quick to reassure her that that would not happen, that you were stronger than he was.

However, you were worried when he would eventually break from your lack of reactions to his behavior. Jax was most likely angry from it, but he wasn't acting any more aggressive than how he normally was. He was probably internalizing it until he couldn't one day and you were not looking forward to that day. But that was a later problem as right now, you were helping Kinger build an awesome fort for "protection", making it big enough for the both of you. He was supposedly here the longest, so since he held on this long without being abstracted, he was losing an even bigger grip on himself in this new reality. The chess piece became a good friend to you though, even if his memory and spatial awareness was completely shot.

"Ok let me add one more block here!" You placed a big, yellow block on one side that was open, smiling at how the fort was slowly coming together. Kinger often preferred small pillow forts just for him, but you both occasionally would build larger ones to fit you both.

"Oh that looks wonderful!" He sounded happy as he clapped his not-attached hands in glee, enjoying your presence and "creative mind" as he puts it. He slid over- doesn't have any legs so he just floats- and examined your current area, humming. He then looked over to you, suddenly screaming in fear and fell down on the colorful ground. It was sad, he did this so much because he forgets who he was just talking to and who was right next to him.

"Kinger its alright its just me" You smiled softly as you extended your hand, him grabbing it and you pulling up. You never dared to get mad at him, never allowing any mistreatment of him as his mind was similar to one with Dementia. Unfortunately, the one person here that often didn't enjoy being with anyone was Jax. The amount of times you scolded him for scaring Kinger and he didn't care at all. Went in one ear, out the other as they say.

"Sorry…what were we doing? OH right, the fort!" Chuckling, you looked at the probable old man as he struggled with simply having as normal of a time here as possible. Besides that, everything was going well as you handed him some red blocks to make a chair when the familiar sights of a tall, lanky, purple, red overall wearing rabbit came through and stared at you.

"You, with me, now" Jax spoke and he was absolutely pissed off, his usual expression of a smile was replaced with a serious one. How dare he try to order you around? Stood with your hand on your hip, you raised your eyebrow as he stood there, expecting you to just go with him.

"No" You didn't have time for his shit, you were having such a fun time being with Kinger and he was not going to ruin that for you. Scoffing, he walked closer with arms crossed and stared you down as he was taller than you was. You weren't afraid of him, there were more things to be scared of here than a simple bully that got dealt the same fate as you.

"Yes, now, I mean it" At the same time, the chess piece came back and stared at the current interaction, eyes wide. His posture became curled up as if he was trying to make himself smaller, not enjoying that Jax was in his safe space.

"Am I uh…interrupting something?" He asked nervously, glancing back and forth. You were about to say no and to tell Jax to f off when he spoke first.

"Everything is fine, Ho-ha, now leave since Mx. "I'm staying" won't" One death glare caused Kinger to rush off in fear, causing you to get so angry. Stomping up to the rabbit, you said nothing for a few seconds as you sized him up, staring at him with a scowl.

"Why are you so fricking demanding all the sudden? And stop-"

"Calling him Ho-ha. Yeah I don't care. Stop hanging out with him anyways" The rabbit plucked the teddy bear you placed on a pillow and started to boredly play with it. Ripping it from his hands, you gently placed Mr. Cuddles back on his rightful throne and pushed Jax around towards the exit.

"Ah, now I wouldn't do that Mx." He said, just knowing he was smirking right now.

"And why not?" You stopped right before he would have been pushed through the door when he chuckled and out of nowhere, a very familiar book appeared in his hand. Your diary! Swiping at it, he unfortunately was too tall as he held it above your head, making you jump, curse your height!

"Give it back Jax! Seriously give it back now!" Jumping didn't help at all as he turned around and stared you down, holding it up at its highest point. Growling, you grabbed his arm and pushed it down, earning a "hey!" as you managed to snatch it back from him.

"That's mine thank you very much" You huffed and flipped through the pages, making sure everything was in working order when he said something you would not expect.

""Jax is a rather…interesting fellow. He is rather charming, but also a very rude person, I do not know how to feel about him, yet I want to be close to him"" A large smirk showed on his face with a knowing look, knowing he got you right where he wanted you to be. That bastard quoted from your diary!

"Say, you seem so utterly fascinated by me, why are you hanging out with Kinger instead of me?" He asked with an inflection that was hard to get a read on at first, however, it didn't take long for you to put the pieces together. He was completely jealous. But why? This was Jax you were talking about, who knew anything about him?

"Wait…are you…jealous, Jax?" Hook, line, and sinker. Sputtering, he faltered before a face of anger took place.

"I am absolutely NOT. Don't be delusional" He scoffed, deflecting the fact that he was indeed, very jealous as he crossed his arms and leaned to one side, looking away from you.

"Oh really? Then you wouldn't mind if I brought Kinger back in then! Oh Ki-" Jax covered your mouth, a blessing for him since if you didn't have one, he wouldn't have been able to stop your yelling for the chess piece. You ripped his arm away from you and walked out of the fort, no longer seeming fun to be in anymore, maybe you can build a new one after this asshole leaves.

"Ok I AM jealous. Are you happy now?" You were now outside of the fort, Kinger nowhere to be seen. Jax stood in front of you as he rolled his eyes, not happy with admitting that he was jealous. But why was he so jealous of you just hanging out with Kinger?

"No, because you somehow broke into my room and stole and read my private information!" Huffing, you hid your journal behind your back as you stared him down.

"Why are you so jealous, Jax?" He was the one in control, now it was time for YOU to be in control now. You spoke confidently as you walked closer to him, getting into his personal space.

"Because-" He matched your confidence for a few seconds before pink dusted his cheeks, he went silent for a few seconds, trying to figure out what to say as his eyes drifted everywhere but you. His black eyes finally landed back on yours and he took a deep breath in, and then out.

‘It’s because…I like you ok! That’s…that’s the only reason!” He raised his voice but not to the point of yelling as he curled in on himself, crossing his arms and holding them tighter than usual, he was scared. Slowly walking up to him, you smiled softly as you laid your free hand on top of his.

“It’s ok Jax, I won’t tell anyone. Not unless you want everyone to know you’re a big softie?” You teased, causing the rabbit to grumble as you stood on your tip toes and kissed his cheek. He froze, not expecting it in the slightest as you pulled away. The temptation to be snarky even as a joke crossed your mind, but knew he had issues being vulnerable, so instead, you smiled as you called for Kinger to finish the fort as Jax stood there like a deer in headlights

#jax x reader #jax #tadc #the amazing digital circus #the amazing digital circus jax #tadc jax #request

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roosterforme · 1 year ago

Text

Adult Education Part 5 | Hangman x OC

Summary: Jessica knows she should just head home for the night, but Jake's sincerity keeps her at Chippy's. He tries to secure a second date and her still elusive phone number as he learns bit by bit just how sweet she can be.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, swearing, eventually 18+

Length: 4500 words

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female OC

This story is part of the Beer Boy and Sugar universe but can be read on its own! Adult Education masterlist

Seriously, who let Jake on my masterlist!? Banner by @mak-32

There was a first time for everything. At least that's how the saying went. Jessica had never been stood up before. But it was the fact that she was completely blindsided by it that really got to her.

It was 7:34. Jake was more than thirty minutes late. He wasn't coming. She had been stringing him along for too long without giving him her phone number. Or maybe she really was just as dull as she thought she was. Regardless, she was going to have to stand up from her table and walk back past the bar and out the front door. Alone. She recognized two of her students sitting a few tables over, and she wanted to cry. Doing this pathetic walk of shame out of Chippy's would be enough to have her in tears on the drive home. She just knew it.

"Shit," she muttered to herself as she slid off of her stool so her heels clicked against the dirty floor. She adjusted her glasses with the backs of her fingers and then picked up the journals she brought with her along with her purse. Then she tried to keep her face neutral as she nodded at Chippy who looked extremely displeased behind the bar.

"Night, Reedy," he murmured as she walked past. She wished she could reach the big trash can from this side of the bar, because what sane woman keeps giving a hot man scientific journals all the time? She'd throw them away in the dumpster near where she parked. And then she would go home and reevaluate just how she managed to mess this whole thing up in the analytical way her mind wanted her to.

She skirted past her students and pushed the door open to the cool, evening air and the sounds of traffic. She managed to let out the breath she had been holding, but now the tears were right there, and she was hoping to get home before they spilled over.

"Jessica!"

She knew it was Jake. She knew his voice. She also knew she couldn't run to her car in high heels fast enough before he caught up with her. So she turned toward his voice and waited on the sidewalk as he rushed toward her.

He looked like a mess with grease stains on his jeans. His hair was disheveled, and he was all sweaty. "I'm sorry I'm late," he panted, out of breath with his hands on his hips and his head tipped back as he gasped for air.

She wasn't sure what to make of him like this. She didn't know if she even wanted to try. "I'm just going to head home," she replied softly, taking a step in the opposite direction. "It's already 7:40."

His eyes looked desperate when they met hers. "Fuck!" he grunted under his breath, broad chest rising and falling rapidly. "Stay? Please? Just let me get you one drink? And we can talk?" He was so handsome, she desperately wanted to cave and still spend the rest of the night drinking cheap beers and eating peanuts with him.

"Why are you late?" Jessica asked, adjusting her glasses. "I thought you were looking forward to Chippy's." She kind of shrugged like she was already expecting some stupid excuse, and then Jake brought his hand up to her cheek and brushed her hair back with his fingers.

"My truck was in the shop last week, and it appears to be having problems again. Once it stalled out and I couldn't get it started again, I just left it and ran here. Because I have absolutely been looking forward to Chippy's. And you look beautiful, by the way," he drawled softly, fingers tangled with her hair as his breathing evened out.

"Where did you leave your truck?" she asked, leaning slightly into his touch.

"By the Starbucks on Collier Avenue," he replied softly, green eyes fixed on hers.

Then Jessica gasped. "That's like five miles away!"

"Mmhmm," he hummed. "I should have just left it there as soon as it died, but I tried to mess with it first. That's why I'm so late. I'm sorry."

"Oh." She didn't know what else to say. He ran five miles to get here.

"Yeah. Oh," he said with an edge to his voice. "I emailed your university account, but I figured you don't check it after you're done working for the night. And I still don't have your phone number, or I would have called you immediately."

Jessica felt warmth in her cheeks as Jake closed the distance between them like he was going to kiss her. "If you give me another chance and your phone number, I'll buy a new car before our next date to guarantee I'm on time. Or I can just leave early enough to run the whole way."

She giggled softly. "You're funny, Jake."

He just shook his head and said, "I'm pretty serious right now, Reedy." Then his gaze dipped down to her lips, and Jessica could tell he wanted to kiss her. His fingertips were still gently tangled in some strands of her hair. His body was warm as he crowded her against the outside of the bar, and she was flattered that he ran to get to her.

"You must be thirsty after all that running," she whispered, tugging on the collar of his shirt.

He turned his head so his lips brushed along her knuckles, and she gasped as he said, "I'm thirsty for more than beer or water, Jess. But I'd still love to take you inside and get some drinks and some peanuts."

And then she found herself nodding and leading him toward the door.

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

The bartender was glaring at Jake as soon as he held the door open for Jessica, and it just intensified when he let his hand rest on her lower back. "Reedy?" the other man called out, absolutely scowling as he let his fist rest on the bartop.

"It's okay, Chippy," she replied, glancing up at Jake as she walked toward the only empty table in the dive bar.

"The bartender is actually Chippy himself? The man, the legend?" Jake asked softly as he pulled out one of the stools for Jessica and watched her set her journals and cute little purse on the table.

When she slid onto the seat and crossed her legs, she said, "Yes. Don't mess with Chippy. That man was nice to me when nobody else was."

Jake studied her pretty face as she adjusted her glasses. "Who in their right mind wouldn't be sweet to you?"

She looked down at the journals and pushed them aside like she was suddenly embarrassed. "It's been known to happen."

"Shouldn't though," he replied, brushing her hair behind her ear. "Now let me go mend fences with your main squeeze. I want to be able to show my face in this fine establishment again in the future."

Jessica was smiling brightly at him as he turned toward the bar where Chippy was wiping the same spot with a rag over and over again. "Good evening," Jake said to the older man who still looked like he wanted to snap Jake in half. "Could I get two pints of whichever beer is Reedy's favorite?"

"Sam Adams," he grunted, tossing the rag aside. "And sometimes I get the Sam seasonal kegs for her. When I can."

Jake just nodded. Chippy was a big fan of Jessica's. He really needed to make sure this guy liked him, and he was pretty sure leaving another massive tip was not the answer. "Right. Two Sam Adams pints then, please."

Without another word, Chippy pulled two beers from the tap for Jake, setting them down a little hard in front of him before he scooped a bowl of peanuts.

"Thank you," Jake told him as the bowl of peanuts came thudding down next to the beers.

While Jake dug a ten dollar bill out of his wallet, Chippy grunted again. "She waited a long time for you to show up." His voice was accusatory.

Jake smoothed the bill between his thumb and index finger, stealing a glance at Jessica a few tables away. She was playing with her hair and reading something with a soft smile on her lips. He turned back toward the bar and met Chippy's eyes. "It won't happen again."

"No. It won't. Because next time I'll kick you out permanently," he said, crossing his arms over his chest. "If you can even manage to get a next time, that is."

"That's certainly the goal," Jake informed him.

"Well, a lot of men look, that's for sure. And I think she's oblivious to most of 'em. But not you, for some reason," Chippy said, scowling once again. "Handsome and annoying," he muttered. "Be nice to her or I'll kick you out once and for all." Then he reached for the rag again, completely ignoring Jake.

"Right." Jake picked up both glasses in one hand and grabbed the pretzels, and he headed back to the table and Jessica.

"Did you have a nice conversation?" she asked with an amused expression as Jake slid one of the beers in her direction and sat on the stool opposite her.

He leaned on the table and whispered, "Not particularly. Pretty sure he'd happily kick me out given the opportunity. I had to swear on my life I'd never be late again."

She laughed behind her pint before taking a sip. "His bark is worse than his bite. Mostly. But actually, the head of the chemistry department has a lifetime ban, so maybe not."

"Damn," Jake murmured, taking a sip of his own beer. "Was he late meeting you two times in a row?"

Jessica looked down into her beer, swirling the glass gently, a solemn look on her face. "Something like that...let's just say the fact that Brian Conley isn't allowed in here is just one of the reasons this is my preferred hangout."

"Okay," Jake said softly, wondering if this Conley character had anything to do with the rumors Bradshaw's wife had been telling him about. Regardless, he was going to side with Chippy on this one. Conley could eat shit if Jessica didn't like him. "We hate Brian Conley," Jake told her as they both reached for the peanuts.

For some reason this got Jessica laughing again. "We do," she said as she picked up a few peanuts and held her hand open to him. Jake rubbed his thumb along her palm before selecting one and cracking into it. "Now, did Chippy tell you I like Sam Adams? Or did you guess from last time we were here?"

Jake tossed the shell on the floor and said, "You think I'd leave that up to chance? I one hundred percent asked him just to be sure. And now I know what kind of beer to buy if you agree to come to my place and let me cook dinner for you."

Jessica froze with her hand in the air, ready to throw her peanut shell. "You know how to cook?"

"Yeah," he replied with a smile. "I love it, actually. I usually meal prep on Sundays after I buy all my groceries for the week."

She was gaping at him. "There are two of you with the uniforms and the kitchen skills?"

Jake laughed, realizing she must have been referring to Bradshaw as well. "First of all, he's married. I'm single." She finally tossed her peanut shell and rolled her eyes.

"I finally made a friend at work," she said, cracking another shell and throwing this one at him. "You think I'm going to risk that by even looking at her husband for a second too long? No."

Jake tried to keep a straight face as he said, "Nobody's gonna get mad if you look at me all day long, Reedy."

"Tempting," she said before sipping her drink without meeting his eye.

"And," he added, running his fingers along her palm as she handed him more peanuts, "the kitchen isn't the only room where I have skills."

She met his eyes and adjusted her glasses with a smirk. "Care to tell me more about that, Lieutenant Seresin?"

He nodded and said, "I'm really good in the living room, too. You should see how well I can lay on the couch and watch University of Texas football."

She laughed and said, "I almost forgot for a second that you're from Texas."

"How did you know I'm from Texas? And, oh shit... did all those A&M boys already ruin my chances for me? I almost never wear my boots and hats around, I swear."

Jake grinned as she threw more peanut shells at him. "Stop!" she whispered as she laughed, and Jake loved the sound of it. "The only thing they ruined for me is Lone Star beer and line dancing."

Now he was laughing, because yeah, that made sense. "You're a Yankee, obviously. Don't tell the Texans I've been visiting you at work. They won't stand for it."

"Oh, sounds like Romeo and Juliet," she replied. "Except without the balconies, old English, and hermits giving out free drugs to children."

"Wait," he said, now the one who was laughing too hard. "My condo has a balcony."

"Shiiit," she whispered, eyes wide in feigned shock. "I was hoping this was a comedy, not a tragedy."

"Oh, it's definitely a comedy, Jessica. The audience is in riotous laughter over the fact that I still don't have your phone number."

This time she had to cover her mouth with one hand as she laughed. And when Jake glanced toward the bar, Chippy looked decidedly less aggressive now when he met his gaze.

"You Yankee girls must have a very particular vetting process. You from New York?"

"Massachusetts," she replied, still giggling. "I went to MIT undergrad."

"That explains the Sam Adams. Also, I'm never getting your phone number, am I?" he asked playfully, reaching across the small table and tucking her pretty hair behind her ear again while she laughed. "You've got me showing up to see you at work and running five miles for dates."

"Don't count yourself out quite yet," she said as he stroked her cheek.

"And you got me reading physics journals on my couch while the college games are on," he added softly. "You brought some more for me to take home?" he asked, dropping his hand and tapping the stack on the table next to her elbow.

But now she had a dreamy look in her eyes. "You really read them instead of watching the game?"

"Mmhmm." He nodded and said, "Picked one up at halftime and realized I missed the entire third quarter before I was done reading it."

Her lips were softly parted as she blinked at him. "Yeah. I brought you some more. But you have to promise you'll read them all cover to cover."

"I always do."

"Good. You won't be disappointed."

Jake laughed and looked down at the peanut shell in his hand before he tossed it over his shoulder just to make her smile. "I doubt you could ever disappoint me, Jessica."

God, the way she looked at him when he dished out something sweet could probably bring him to his knees. And the thing was, it was never a line. He wasn't throwing out bullshit to see if landed. He meant every word of it. Her eyes were unguarded as they always seemed to be with him now, and he couldn't believe he almost completely blew this evening with his fucking truck.

It was getting a little late now, and he needed to try to secure the next date while she was still looking at him with those dreamy eyes. He just didn't want her to think he had any certain set of expectations but suggesting his place.

"You know," he started, "my couch is big enough for both of us to watch some football and read some journals together. I could buy some Sam Adams, and we could make dinner together on Saturday night."

He watched her front teeth sink into her lip. She was hesitating. And it was killing him a little bit. "I think I can make that work," she said slowly, sliding the journals across the table as his heart pounded.

"Gonna need your phone number so I can text you my address," he whispered, reaching for her hand before she pulled it away. "Please?"

He drew a little heart on her palm with the tip of his index finger, and a smile bloomed across her face. "You'll find it, Jake. I know you will." And then she slowly closed her hand and stood, leaving him to pick up the journals. "But it's getting late, and Thursdays are early for me."

"Right." He followed her past the bar and watched her wave to Chippy who looked at her with a very kind smile before giving Jake a look of warning. And maybe he needed that warning, because he was looking at the gorgeous swell of her ass and enjoying the way she walked in high heels a little too much. So he nodded at Chippy, and kept his eyes on her wavy hair instead.

Once they were outside, Jessica dragged the toe of one of her shoe a few inches along the sidewalk as she leaned against the building. "Thanks for the three dollar beer," she said with a smile.

"You know, I'm pretty sure Chippy would give them to you for free if you were alone."

Her smile turned into another pretty laugh. "You're not wrong. Do you need a ride back to your truck?"

"Wouldn't mind one since I need to get it towed," he murmured, not quite ready to move from this spot where her face looked so perfect in the dim light. "But I'd be more than happy to run the five miles back."

And then her right hand reached up to tug on his shirt collar, and she didn't look so hesitant now as he eased himself closer, letting his hand rest on the wall next to her. "You have a peanut shell in your hair," she whispered, releasing his collar and brushing her fingers along his temple.

Jake swallowed hard. His lips were just a few inches from hers as he softly said, "That's probably because a beautiful woman was throwing them at me."

Her laugh was quiet and breathy, and then the space between their lips was negligible. And then she was kissing him with her small hand wrapped gently around his neck. Jessica was smiling against his lips, and he wasn't used to it being this sweet. He didn't kiss the girls from the bar like this, and they never teased his cheek with the tip of their nose or ran their thumb delicately behind his ear.

Oh, he was going to crave this now. Soft, exploratory kisses that tasted like beer and peanuts. And the sound of her soft moan as he let his hand trail from the wall near her shoulder down along her side to her waist. Yeah, this was going to become a necessity for Jake.

She brushed her lips along his again before looking up at him with surprised eyes as he held her a little tighter. And then six more little kisses while her hand trailed down his neck. "I was really afraid you stood me up earlier," she whispered, trailing some kisses along his chin.

"I wouldn't do that, Baby. You have any idea how much I wanted tonight to happen?" Jake had one hand full of physics journals and one hand full of Jessica, and he was already thinking about what he might cook for dinner on Saturday night.

With a soft laugh, she started to lead him down the sidewalk to her car. And he got to do even more things he never really did. Like open her car door instead of call her a cab at two in the morning. And lean over from the passenger seat and kiss her cheek gently as she started the engine.

"What's your day looking like tomorrow, Dr. Reed?" he asked, linking his fingers loosly with hers for the short drive to his truck.

"Department meeting, lectures, more lectures, a lab, and then my office hours."

Jake's mind was already working on a plan. "I have a long day ahead of me, too. There's my truck," he said, pointing to the piece of shit he was afraid he was going to have to replace.

Jessica pulled up next to it and put her car in park, but when she reached for the key, he covered her hand with his. "Just leave me here. I'll get it towed to the garage again and then get Bradshaw to drive me home from there. I want you to go right home. It's late and it's dark out."

Jake wrapped her hand around the steering wheel again as she said, "Okay." But the single word was muffled by his lips crashing against hers. He kissed her long and hard one time, and her glasses were a little crooked when he was done. He straightened them out before he reached for the door handle.

"I had a great time tonight. I'm sorry I almost ruined it by being late."

"You made up for it by running five miles," she whispered. "Night, Jake."

And then he was watching her pull back into traffic as he called for a tow truck, keeping his eyes on her brake lights until they were out of sight. Just for good measure he looked up some new trucks for sale as he sat behind his steering wheel, but that got boring after a few minutes. And then he thought about the way Jessica told him she was confident he would find her number.

He lunged for the journals sitting on the seat next to him, and he spread them out to read all the covers. His eyes caught on an edition of Applied Physics from late last year that said Jessica Reed, PhD. on the cover under an article title about combustion in jets.

"It's gotta be," he whispered as the tow truck arrived, and he frantically flipped to the page where her article had been printed. He would read the whole thing later. He wanted to read the whole thing later. But right now his eyes settled on a small, handwritten note. He recognized her writing from the mini lecture he'd accidentally attended, and a smile crept along his lips.

Jake,

If you made it this far, you can call or text me anytime.

Her number was written beneath it, and he was entering her as a contact in his phone when he got out to talk to the tow truck driver. He felt like he just won the lottery as he added the picture of her he had saved from the San Diego State University website as her contact photo.

Jessica, I'm sending you my address for Saturday. You and me, my couch, physics journals, college football and dinner? Please say yes.

It was getting very late now, and maybe she wouldn't respond until tomorrow, but Jake felt like he was on cloud nine. He just kept thinking about how sweet Jessica was. About how he wouldn't mind wrapping her up in his arms for some more soft kisses on his couch.

Once the driver was unloading his truck at the garage, Jake opened a different contact on his phone and made a quick call.

"It's 10:30, Hangman. This better be important."

"Bradshaw. I need a ride home from the garage. My truck is acting up again," Jake replied, trying not to smile at how annoyed Rooster sounded.

An exasperated sigh carried through the phone, and then Jake could hear his wife in the background asking, "Who is it?"

"It's Hangman. He needs a ride."

"Oh, well we can always finish this later, Beer Boy." His wife sounded less annoyed than him, thankfully.

After a brief pause, Bradshaw said, "Give me twenty minutes. I need to get dressed."

"Thanks. Much appreciated," Jake replied. He dropped his keys into the overnight box with a note telling the mechanic he was having the same issues as last week. And then he waited for that blue Bronco to pull into the lot, and when Jake climbed in, Bradshaw looked pissed as hell.

"Do you have any idea what my wife was about to do to me when you called?" he growled, shifting into reverse before Jake even had the door closed.

"Come on, man. Your wife's hot, but I don't want to be imagining what the two of you get up to."

"She was about to reprimand me for turning in sloppy math homework," he said, completely disregarding Jake. "And I'm virtually sure she will no longer be in the mood for that when I get back at 11:30. So you owe me. I don't even know what you owe me yet, but it's going to be big. Because I'm assuming you expect me to give you a ride to work in the morning, too."

Jake cleared his throat and said, "If you wouldn't mind."

"Fuck," Rooster growled as he pulled up to Jake's condo building. "I'll pick you up at 7:30. Get the fuck out."

"Thanks," Jake said, trying to keep his face as neutral as possible. Jessica had just texted him back, and he was all smiles even as the Bronco peeled away. He was in.

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

As Jessica undressed in her bedroom, she ran her fingers along her lace bra. She wondered what Jake's favorite color was, because she probably owned a pretty matching set that she would love to wear for him. She should have known this was going to happen; one kiss from him, and she was thinking about spending a lazy Sunday in bed with her fingers tangled in his hair.

"Stop," she told herself half heartedly with a dreamy smile in the mirror. She'd given him the journal with her number inside, and now she just had to wait. He'd probably find it by tomorrow. Maybe she would see him at her office hours again. Her whole body was tingling with excitement as she unclasped her bra, and then she heard the ping of her phone notifications.

She tossed her bra and bounded across the room in just her panties and saw a text from an unknown number.

Jessica, I'm sending you my address for Saturday. You and me, my couch, physics journals, college football and dinner? Please say yes.

She squealed as she flopped down onto her bed. He was good. It took him almost no time to find her phone number. She typed back a message as she thought about his big hands and his southern drawl. After she hit send, she closed her eyes and imagined everything she wanted to do to him in her office as she let her fingers glide along her body.

Don't forget the Sam Adams. See you on Saturday.

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

Yes! You run those five miles, Jake! Anyone else just love Chippy? Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 6

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itoshiexx · 1 year ago

Text

scraps

synopsis: you give him all you have. it's time to collect the scraps before there is nothing left.

pairing: itoshi sae x gn!reader | words: 797 | warnings: established relationship, angst

notes: do u guys remember the sae drabble i told y'all about some time ago? well, my depressive ass decided to post it now. i'm sorry in advance.

masterlist

the silence is deafening. it lingers thick and heavy in the air, nearly making you choke on nothing — or perhaps you’re choking on all the things you want to say that are stuck in your throat. you can feel your whole body trembling as the anxiety creeps further in, and you wrap your arms around yourself to try and bring some comfort.

before, it was someone else’s arms that gave you peace, but lately, it has only been torment.

it is why you’re standing in the living room of your shared apartment, staring at the teal eyes of itoshi sae while trying to hold back your own tears. it hurts. it hurts to look at him and remember the way he used one of your weaknesses against you in the argument you had minutes before, as if stabbing a wound that didn’t quite close properly, tearing the skin at the seams and turning it into a bigger, uglier, messier scar.

you feel violated.

perhaps you should have known better. maybe, if you listened to your mother, you wouldn’t have shown so much of yourself to sae, basking in a vulnerability that could only come back to bite you in the end. you gave him all the tools to hurt you where it stings most, and there was no one to blame but yourself for that.

love made you foolish. you were tired.

“i don’t think i can do this anymore, sae.” your voice is meek and hollow. only a shell of the person you used to be — the one that bled through its heart until all the life was drained.

“what’s that supposed to mean?” he asks, brow arched. defensive. ready to hurt you some more in case he became slightly uncomfortable.

you breathe. in and out. in and out. rubbing your arm with your own hand, whispering to yourself under your breath that everything was going to be alright. even if it felt like nothing but that.

“you… you’re hurting me, sae,” you manage to say with the lump in your throat. “you have been for a while. and i try to be better, but i… i can’t do this alone. and you’re not even trying.”

the tears welled up in your lash line start to fall again, and at this point, you know it’s useless to try and stop them. you also know they are the only thing that keep you sane, even if it feels like you’re losing your mind at every breath you take.

sae doesn’t say anything, and you actually consider that a blessing. you don’t know how much more of his venomous words you can take before it destroys you completely from the inside out. something tells you his toxin has been spreading through your body for a while, although you only started to notice recently, when the fights got worse.

how long has he been killing you?

the weight of this question is enough to spike your anxiety once again, and you dig your nails on the skin of your arms to try to detain these overwhelming feelings, squeezing your eyes shut.

you nearly jump when you feel his strong arms circling your shoulders, bringing your head to his chest. you squirm and try to fight it — fight him —, but sae is stronger and more stubborn than you could ever be, and all you can do is cry harder and blow weak punches to his torso.

“i’m sorry,” he says. it’s not the first time. the words make your stupid heart flutter with hope, but the hurt brings you back to reality. it’s not the first time, and he has done nothing to change for the better. he never fucking listens.

“you’re so mean,” you cry, ceasing the punches due to your lack of strength. you can barely keep standing, and you’re sure that his hold is the only thing keeping you from falling. “why are you so mean to me, sae?”

he’s silent again. you keep going. “i gave you my everything. i loved you with all i had. i-i opened up to you like never before, and you… you just…”

your stomach sinks. there aren’t even words to express what you’re feeling nor what he’s doing to you — the many ways he has been destroying what you spent years trying to put back together.

you were tired.

in a final attempt to save what’s left of you, you raise your head from his chest to look deep into his aquamarine eyes. you want him to look at yours, too.

“sae,” your voice is nothing more than a hollow whisper. you take a deep breath, garning all the strength and courage you can.

and then, you plea for the last time:

“please, give back what’s left of my heart.”

#bllk imagines #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #blue lock #blue lock fanfiction #blue lock drabbles #blue lock x y/n #blue lock x you #itoshi sae #sae itoshi #itoshi sae x reader #itoshi sae x y/n #itoshi sae x you #sae itoshi x you #sae itoshi x y/n #sae itoshi x reader #sae imagines #bllk angst #sae angst

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transformers-spike · 2 months ago

Note

Either Jazzxreader knife play/blood play or Prowlxreader petplay or both(up 2 u)?

Btw your work is great!

0w0 aww thank you

Have some TFA Prowl. I'm into a very specific part of said k1nk, so please enjoy.

Prowl’s spark beams with pride when he looks at you. Eyes wide, gazing up at him with as much trust as you can give. It was your idea, of course, but he’s glad you’ve presented it to him. Humanity sure is strange, but the more he observes its inner workings the more he understands where you’re coming from. By all technicality, you are an animal. A sentient one, of course, and he naturally respects you despite your differences. Although he will like to find his own peace with your short lifespan… He tries not to dwell on it. He’s put you in distress more times than he wants to admit, which must have inadvertently led to your proposal. Over his time on Earth, he’s come to observe and occasionally read up on humanity’s relationship to its bare instincts. From the bottom of their hearts, all humans want to be cared for. As a social species, they crave contact in all its forms and will often support each other during and after having experienced damaging situations. From the dread and solitude one may feel after experiencing a house fire once the adrenaline settles, to the repeated trauma of everyday dangers. They are not made to suffer the same anxieties over a long period of time, else that may lead to irritation and a deteriorating mental state. Many of them tend to lash out, either at themselves or those around them. The bonds humans forge are to keep each other sane, unwinding together and taking care of each other as best they can. From blood relations to friends to lovers, their walls come down just enough to show them at their most vulnerable. It is in this state they crave the security others may offer, baring their necks and sinking their shoulders as they can finally unwind in peace and quiet, often through physical acts of affection. Through this newfound lens, Prowl observes you. You’ve told him it has nothing to do with the danger he brings into your everyday life, but he doubts it – although he doesn’t blame you for denying it, if you even realize how much it’s been impacting your mental well-being. Your eyes are warm and steady on his visor, the collar around your neck carefully set to squeeze as little as possible. Despite this, he can see the soft curvature of your skin where the leather starts and ends. Why humans have collars specifically made for their own kind puzzles him, but he’ll be sure to look into it once Bumblebee relinquishes “the google”. Settled in his lap, he reaches a hand out to stroke your face, and much like what he’s experienced with earth felines, you lean into his touch and close your eyes. You do not purr, but he is sure if he listens closely he can hear the slightest growl of content – he has to stop himself from gushing over his newfound discovery. He gives you a few under chin scritches which have you showing him your entire throat. Ah, the jugular. From what he’s read, great predators often aim for it while lunging at their prey. Yet here you are, showing it to him with wild abandon. He tries to sedate the spark building in his chamber. Clothless on his lap, he’s sure humans have their own connotations for it. After all, he’s only watched you take off your clothes before interface, never while conversing casually or watching the doves build their nests in the park trees. But it’s not until you start subtly rubbing up against his panel that it hits him. Ah. Interface as a form of comfort. Fascinating. Releasing his rapidly pressurizing spike, he leans in to press you up against him, head tucked under his chin, fingers subtly grazing down your back and between your legs. You whine and buck into him, ever eager to take him in, human transfluid dripping in copious amounts for your species. It’s going to be a long solar cycle.

#transformers x human #transformers x reader #transformers animated #tfa prowl #tfa prowl x reader #petpl4y #exactly one bumblebee mention #valveplug

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adventuringblind · 10 months ago

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Don't Lie to Me, Darling

Oscar Piastri x Reader

Genre: Ghoulverse smut,

Summary: Its nerve wracking being a virgin, even more so when your boyfriend is a ghoul and could eat you if he wanted. She tries to lie to him about it and Oscar takes that personally.

Warnings: Corruption, overstimulation, talks of eating people, minor blood, restraint via Oscar's tail, PinV, monster fucking (technically speaking)

Notes: This... is unholy. Bless whoever requested this!!!

Side Note: You can explore the ghoulverse by searching the ghoulverse tag or a specific driver by driversname.ghoulverse the tag

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

It's not like she was expecting to feel aroused from something as small as Oscar's tongue. Which, objectively speaking, is longer than any human tongue. Short for a ghoul, however.

She's been watching him lick his lips in concentration while playing COD for an hour now. It's driving her insane with need.

A need she doesn't know what to do with. She's never done this before. Acting on her sexual needs is a foreign concept.

Oscar keeps eyeing her suggestively and shifting around on the couch. He's purposely making his lap inviting and she hates it. Is this an invitation? She can't tell and doesn't want to embarrass herself either, so she refrains.

Oscar puts the controller down and stares at her. Eyes dark, intense, and staring into her soul. "Darling, anything you want to tell me?"

"I'm fine, Osc, really." She throws him a smile, but Oscar only furrows his eyebrows. He crawls over her body, pushing her onto her back.

"Are you sure about that?" She nods, blushing furiously. "Nice try love but Lying gets you nowhere. I can smell the slick leaking from you. I can see you staring at me from over there."

She can't breathe. The air from her lungs is stripped away as Oscar runs his tongue across her neck. She whimpers underneath him. Unsure of what too do in the scenario.

"I can smell your fear."

"I've - I've never done this before..."

Oscar gets off the couch and hoists her up with no effort. He carries her to his bedroom and tosses her onto the bed. It's annoying how effortless it is for him.

He crawls over her and licks another stripe from her shoulder to her ear. "Tell me to stop and I will, but darling-" Oscar presses his nose to her the nape of her neck and inhales. "You smell so good."

She writhes beneath him. Her body aches for him. "Need you, please."

The verbal confirmation gives Oscar the room he needs to let go of whatever was holding him back. He rips he clothes off her body. Too impatient to undress her sanely.

His lips find hers while he does so. His tongue forces its way into her mouth, long enough to reach the back of her throat. She's choking on it, unable to breathe anything else but Oscar.

He only pulls back when he's got her in just her under garments. Oscar's dark eyes trail her body. He looks like he might literally eat her. The fear only stays for a second when gentle and nimble fingers unclasp her bra and toss it away. "Fucking hell love, how did I get so lucky? You are the prettiest thing I've ever seen." Oscar moans in a breathless manner that makes her own breath catch in her throat.

Oscar notices her mild apprehension. The fear tinging her addictive scent confuses him. "Do you want to stop?"

His gentleness nearly makes her cry. The rapid shake of denial, however, makes her dizzy. "But can you - maybe..." She fiddles with the hem of his shirt. He throws her a playful smirk. Skilled hands manage to get his shirt around his horns and is thrown onto the floor.

She ogles his body. To distracted by his toned abdomen and skin dotted with the constellation of moles to notice the fact she's drooling.

"Oh love, I'm going to ruin you. Make you mine and make sure everybody knows it." She squeaks at him and tries to cover the blush spreading across her cheeks. Oscar pins her before her hands can even touch her face. He tuts at her disapprovingly. "I want to see how good I make you feel."

Oscar kisses his way down her body, biting occasionally to mark her untouched skin. He licks over her clothed heat and pulls another embarrassing whine from her.

How he, once again, literally rips her panties with merely his teeth, alludes her. She doesn't have time to think about it. Not when his tongue is finally where she needs it to be.

Oscar dips his abnormally long tongue into her. Her back arches as the muscle travels deeper than any human could go, lapping at her from the inside. She grips the sheets underneath her as her buries himself inside of her cunt.

The noise is obscene. She's not sure how long she is going to last like this. Not with his tongue flicking her g-spot and nose smothering her clit. He's inhaling her, the wild way he grips at her thighs and drags her ever close can attest to that.

She's toeing the line between coherency and giving into whatever this feeling is. As her release gets closer, the only thought she can piece together is his name. Until finally, he has her screaming it.

Jumping to the other side of that line feels too easy as she loses herself to the intense pleasure. Her spin arches off the bed as Oscar demolishes her from the inside. His tail wrapping around her waist to pull her back down and hold her where he wants her.

He, ever so slowly, retracts himself from her. Licking his mess clean as he goes. She tastes so good like this that Oscar could die a sated ghoul.

But god, does he want to taste her for real. "Do you trust me darling? Will you be good for me? Let me make you feel good?"

She strings together pleads between his name being chanted. Oscar takes the que that she's still coming down from her previous high. He makes his way up to her hips. Sharp, elongated canines slip into the supple flesh.

The initial sting causes her to shriek. It's gone a mere second later and is replaced by the wonderful sensation of Oscar licking at the would he'd put there.

A massive show of trust on her end that doesn't go unnoticed by Oscar. That being said, she wants more and the Aussie, intent on not actually hurting her, tightens the grip he has on her with his tail.

This shouldn't make her feel as good as it is, but Oscar is going feral with whatever he can get of her. Her hands, the part Oscar is not restraining, instinctively grab at the rough surface of her horns.

She feels like the two of them in their own world. With the way Oscar is pressed against her with lust filled dark eyes and vibrating. "Shit, love, you taste heavenly."

Oscar, on the verge of losing all his sanity, switches their bodies around so he can straddle her. The devastated tears and whined please escape her like Oscar is going to just leave her with nothing. He kisses the tears away, her desperate eyes bore into her soul, reading every little twitch her body makes. "I know, darling. I'll give you what you need."

He keeps a hand on her as he rids himself of the rest of his clothes. And - christ - There is that tinge of fear again. The fact Oscar looks scarily... large? She's nothing to compare it to aside from maybe some sketchy porn.

"Do you want to stop? We don't have to go any farther." Always so considerate. Frankly, she'd rather him just decide for her and take the stress of thing away. In her uncoherent state of mind and willing Oscar to just touch her in some way, she mumbles out a verbal response.

The tearing of a package can be heard from somewhere in the room. Dread, arousal, and Oscar's name are the only things filling her mind as she stares at him.

Until he's back over the top of her.

Until he's lining up to take her.

Until... Until... "Do you want this?"

She settles for throwing herself upwards, meeting his lips with her own. She's wrapped up in his arms enough for him to steadily, and with complete control over, get inside her body.

The tears of pain are nothing compared to the other whirlwind of emotions. The closeness of Oscar as he takes her, slowly at first. Then he's toppling over her again and snapping his hips at an angle that has her body going staticky.

He licks and sucks at the sensitive spot on her clavicle. But he doesn't bite down, not yet.

Its rhythmic and calculated despite the fact he is growling in her ear. She adds animalistic to the list.

"All mine~" Is said against the all-important spot on her neck. "Gonna claim you, mark you up."

The line between anything remotely a sane thought and the overwhelming pleasure is becoming progressively blurred. She can only see, hear, feel, and taste, nothing except Oscar. Everything is him and it's all consuming.

"Osc - I'm-" The feeling she's only ever brought herself is seconds away from dragging her under.

"Shh darling, you're so good. Let go for me, yeah?"

Despite Oscar's growls growing in volume, he doesn't falter. Which makes her feel a bit silly considering she is a mess in his arms. Her fingernails claw at his skin. She is wailing his name because it's the only thing her mind can muster up at the moment.

The layer of sweat and Oscar's breathe hitting her skin is the first thing to register. He's stopped moving, fingers caressing her trembling body with car.

"Did I - was that... good?" Oscar can smell the hits of insecurity. A scent he doesn't want to ever smell on her again.

"Perfect. Heaven. Amazing. I'm ruined for life and addicted to you alone - I could go on for ages, but we might want to consider cleaning up."

She hums, still latched onto him. "Did you mean what you said?"

"Every last word."

"Even the part about - marking me?" The last part comes out as a squeak.

"Love, I would do anything you asked. If you want it, I'm here. But I'm not leaving unless you tell me to." Oscar holds her closer. His nose once again finding his favorite spot in the crook of her neck. "For now, though, did you enjoy yourself? I didn't hurt you at all, did I?"

"The scary human eating ghoul who is caressing me like I'm a porcelain doll after making me cry for him, is asking if I'm okay?" She pulls his head up to make him see how elated she is at the moment. "Best possible way to lose my virginity."

"Can't say I'm sad you lost it since it's mine now."

"All yours~"

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andreafmn · 4 months ago

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Collision | Chapter 27

Word Count: 3.2K

Story Description: (Y/N) Uley is back home after being away for four years. Her life is at its first standstill and she is taking this time to find out who she is without school. But she never thought that coming back to the reservation would turn her whole life around. In the midst of secrets and mystery, a man crashes into (Y/N)’s and her life will never be the same.

A/N: omg, this one is also coming to an end very soon 🫣🫣

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The longer (Y/N) remained in the Cullen house, the more she felt the walls closing in on her. For a moment, she couldn't distinguish the difference between dreams and reality. It all seemed like a horrible nightmare she couldn't shock herself awake from.

As soon as the tickets were bought and a plan was laid out, the girl ran outside. The smell of pine and wet dirt filled her nose, and for the first time in hours, she felt like she could breathe. The house taunted her as she leaned against her truck, trying to fill her lungs with air, tears burning the back of her eyes.

(Y/N) wanted to be strong. She wanted the vampires in the house to believe nothing they had done had affected her. Her heart had been shattered, but she had persevered. In fact, she had come out of the other end better than she had been left.

But she had been strong for long enough. She had swallowed her tears, and she had slipped on a mask. She had been pretending to be strong long before she knew that's what she was doing. Pretending to be okay had become her second nature.

Yet, everything breaks at some point. All the pressure—years and years of suppression—is bound to make even the strongest diamond break.

A tightness spread through (Y/N)'s chest, stopping her lungs from receiving oxygen. It had her gasping for air, taking as many breaths as her body allowed her. But it hazed her sight and numbed her limbs, pulling her to the ground as she tried to regain her composure. Still, try as she might, her body betrayed her. It raced her heart and forced tears to fall from her eyes, making her ache for air like a fish out of water.

"Hey, hey, (Y/N)," she heard distantly. "You need to focus on your breathing, okay?"

"I-I-I c-can't," the girl stammered.

"Yes, you can, (Y/N)," Theo said as she placed her cold hand on her cheeks, snapping her eyes to the vampire. "Focus on me. Copy what I'm doing."

Though she didn't need it, Theo took in deep breaths through her nose and exhaled through her mouth, keeping her gaze firmly on (Y/N). She took her friend's hands in hers and tried her best to keep her focus. She spoke slowly and calmly, instructing the girl's breaths and pulling her attention from the attack.

It was almost a play-by-play of the day the two had met.

(Y/N) hadn't realized just how scary it would be to find herself alone in a new school with faces she didn't recognize. The moment Sam and her mother moved her into her room, she found herself so alone. Her roommate had not shown up, and she'd been informed moments after that she had been unenrolled from the school. Without a roommate and without her family for the first time, the girl felt truly and completely alone.

She had been able to go on for almost a month. Classes kept her distracted enough during the day, and all students were forced to eat breakfast together, but at night, she still had to go back to an empty room, and she still sat by herself every lunchtime and dinnertime. The only thing that kept her sane was the picture of Sam and Allison on her last birthday by her bed. She didn't want to call and worry them. She'd already written to them every two weeks like she had promised, and even then, she felt she was bothering them too much.

The girl had just finished an English class when suddenly, her books flew everywhere, and her knees scraped against the hardwood floor. People around her laughed at their teenage insensitivity, but it was the words of one particular girl that struck her the hardest.

"I think it's better that you go back where you came from," she had spat. "Although I guess some scholarship girl should be used to being at our feet."

(Y/N) hadn't been able to look into the girl's eyes before she felt her chest wrenching from lack of air. Students lost interest in her seconds later, leaving her to scramble for her things as she fought against her own body. One more minute, and she was left alone in the seemingly never-ending hallway.

The lockers around inched closer to her as the seconds ticked by, taking over the little air that remained for her. Her eyes blurred, and her skin pebbled with sweat, all while her lungs screamed at her to breathe.

The tingling started at the tops of her fingers, like ants eating at her veins, and spread to her legs. She was numb and oversensitive all at once, yet she had no control over it. Her body was going crazy, and she had no control over it.

"Hey, hey," she heard a voice call out from a distance. "You need to focus on your breathing, okay? You're having a panic attack."

(Y/N) felt cold hands against her arms, and her eyes snapped back into focus. Before her stood a black-haired girl with striking blue eyes. She wore a burgundy polo, letting her know she was a junior.

"I-I-I c-can't b-breathe."

"I know, honey," the girl said. "Just do what I do, alright? Focus on me."

The older girl took deep breaths through her nose and exhaled through her mouth, telling (Y/N) to do the same. She didn't let go of her hands at any moment, instead keeping her centered with her touch and soft words. Her voice lulled her into a rare sense of calm she had not felt in a while and helped even out her racing heartbeat.

(Y/N) couldn't understand how this girl who knew nothing about her had stopped to help her, even after the tardy bell had rung. Unlike the peers she had shared for four weeks who had laughed at her and walked away without sparing her a second glance.

What she hadn't known was that those few minutes had been excruciating for the girl helping her. (Y/N)'s knees had been spilling small droplets of blood and had been testing the vampire's resolve. It had taken everything in her not to pounce on the girl's neck and expose her identity. But for some reason, she hadn't been able to just walk away.

"How're you feeling now?" the girl asked as (Y/N)'s breathing evened out. "Any better?"

"Y-yes," (Y/N) croaked. "Thank you."

"No need to thank me. Some kids here don't understand common decency," she chuckled. "I'm Theo, by the way. Well, Theodora, but my friends call me Theo."

"I'm (Y/N)," the young girl responded.

"Well, nice to meet you, (Y/N)," Theo smiled. "How are you finding Greenfield?"

"Lonelier than I was expecting," she admitted with a dry chuckle. "I don't even have a roommate, and clearly, I'm not doing good at making friends."

"Then consider me your first official friend."

"Don't take this in a bad way, but why?" (Y/N)questioned. "I mean, you're a junior. I'm just a freshman."

"Eh, I don't really care about those things," she shrugged. "We all need someone, (Y/N). I'm good with being someone for you."

Theo had become the someone (Y/N) had needed for the next two years. She'd encouraged her to meet new people, she guided her in the direction of a few internships. Theo had even been the one to guide her through a dual-enrollment and started her on her path to medicine. She had been everything she had ever wanted in a friend. Except honest.

As the girl calmed, that realization dawned upon her. The Theo she had met in Greenfield had only been the vampire's mask. The girl that was standing before her was the real one, all golden eyes and perfect skin. She had pretended to be her friend for years, but she had disappeared the moment she needed her the most.

Everyone needs someone. That much she knew was true. However, Theo clearly was not the right person for (Y/N).

"How are you feeling?" Theo asked. "Any better?"

"I'm fine," she croaked, pulling her hand from the girl's grasp. "I can handle things by myself."

"I don't doubt that, (Y/N)," the vampire said. "But we all need someone, (Y/N)."

"Why do you care?" she spat. "After all this time of silence and no contact, why do you care now?"

Theo's expression twisted in confusion, clearly unaware of what the Uley girl spoke of. "What do you mean, (Y/N)?" she questioned. "Did you not get my letters?"

"What letters?"

"I've been sending letters to your home since I left for New York, (Y/N). Since I never heard back, I assumed you just didn't want to talk to me anymore," Theo confessed. "I stopped for some time, trying to give you some space. But when I saw what you were going through after... well, you know, I couldn't help but reach out. And yet again, I never got a response."

"I... I've never gotten a letter from you, Theo," the girl muttered. "Are you sure you sent them to the correct address?"

"I didn't break into the school and look at your personal file to get things wrong," she chuckled. "I'm a hundred percent sure I sent them to your mom's house. And I never got a return to sender post, so I just assumed you threw them away."

Suddenly, a thought popped into (Y/N)'s head. "Sam always gets the mail for mom and I," she mumbled under her breath. "And when he didn't, Paul was the one that got it. But... no. They wouldn't..."

"I don't know what they would or wouldn't do, but I did send those letters," Theo said. "I wished there was more that I could have done for you, but I couldn't without revealing what I really am and crossing into enemy territory. I tried to reach out the only way I thought I could."

"I just thought you'd forgotten about me after you left for New York," she muttered. "I even tried to email you, but the school deactivated your school email after you graduated. I felt like an idiot for trying to contact you when I thought you didn't want anything to do with me. I mean, you were a college student, and I was just a junior in high school."

"Well, a junior in high school and college," Theo teased as she bumped her shoulder softly into (Y/N)'s. "I didn't want to lose contact with you, (Y/N). But I always knew it was something that had to happen at some point—back when you didn't know everything, of course. Humans and vampires, it's just something that isn't meant to last."

"Yeah," (Y/N) scoffed defeatedly. "That's something I learned the hard way."

Theo remained quiet for a second, pondering over her next words carefully. "Would you have allowed him to turn you, then?" she asked tentatively. "Would you really have become one of us?"

"If he had asked me, I think I would have," (Y/N) admitted. "Now, I'm not even sure I want to be in the same state as him."

"You still love him, don't you?"

"I don't want to."

"But you do," Theo stated. "Which is why you agreed to get him home. Which is why you're helping him and his family even after all they did. But you must know you don't have to do this if you don't want to."

"W-what?" (Y/N) questioned in disbelief. "After all that begging, you're telling me there's another way?"

"Not exactly another way, but Esme and I will find a way to get him back," she said. "I didn't want to mention anything in front of her because she's already so distraught from losing her best friend, but you have a choice here, (Y/N). You don't owe them anything, okay? Not even me."

(Y/N) took a moment to ruminate on Theo's words. She'd known deep inside that she could deny them help, but she hadn't felt like it was a real option. The guilt alone would have consumed her, taking her body hostage from the inside out. Even if Carlisle couldn't die, he was doing the closest thing to it. "No, I want to help," she replied. "Regardless of everything that has happened, I want to help."

"Only if you're sure, (Y/N)."

"I am," she smiled. "I'll see you tonight, Theo."

"(Y/N)..."

"I'm okay, Theo," she said. "I'll see you soon."

The ride back home filled (Y/N) with anger and uncertainty. She had carried some buried resentment toward Theo since the girl had left the boarding school. The one girl that had gone out of her way to build her up into who she was had disappeared as quickly as she had come to her life. And she never got a reason why.

She had spent years thinking she was disposable, that she had lost the only friend she had made at school to distance and disinterest. Instead, someone had decided to try their hand at playing god and had believed they knew more than the universe's will. The only culprits he could think that would do that were the very ones who had been tasked to keep others like Theo away from their land. But she couldn't believe they would do something like that for years. Not to her.

Still, she had no time to ponder over the betrayal as she searched her room for a duffel bag to fill with the first clothes she could find. The girl ran from corner to corner, packing essentials and some non-essentials as well. It was her first time flying across the country to save her vampire ex-boyfriend from eternal hunger and punishment after he had shattered her heart—she didn't know what to pack.

All she knew was that she had very little time before she had to drive all the way back to the Cullen's land.

"What are you doing?" Paul's voice suddenly filled her room. "You smell like them."

"I'm going to New York with Esme and a friend to save Carlisle," she responded without taking her gaze off the clothes she was folding. "We leave as soon as I'm done here."

"So you decided to help," Sam interjected. "I thought seeing the bloodsuckers again would make you hate them. Serves me right for believing their charms wouldn't work again on my sister."

The spite in her brother's voice pierced her heart with calculated precision. He had only spoken with kind and supportive words while the vampires were away, and there was no sign they would come back. He had stood by his sister's side and told her what she wanted to hear, except when she needed him the most—except when she had finally made a decision he did not like. "You always knew there was a possibility I would go," she said through gritted teeth. "And they didn't work any charms on me. My mind had been made up before I even got there."

"We have enough with the ones that came back," Sam said. "Why do you have to bring another one?"

"Because his family deserves to have him here. He's not just your enemy, Sam. He's also a father and a friend, and they miss him. It is not my place to keep him away."

"After all we did to keep them from you," Paul mumbled under his breath, thinking she couldn't hear him.

But she did. "Oh, I know all about what you've done," (Y/N) spat. "Like keeping letters from me sent by the only friend I had in school. Where are they, huh, Sam? Did you chase the mailman until you got them?"

"How did you...?"

"That friend I'm going to New York with? Turns out she's a vampire, and she's the one that had sent those letters," she said. "Letters I didn't even catch a glance of since you and Paul had always been so kind to bring our mail in."

"I was trying to protect you, (Y/N)," her brother argued. "Those things have no place here."

"They are your enemies, Sam! Not mine," she exclaimed. "I thought she hated me. I thought the one friend I had made outside of the reservation hated me because she hadn't reached out. Come to find out, it was you that had been keeping her away."

"Those letters reeked of leech," he scoffed. "I was doing you a favor. Those things are poison, (Y/N)."

"That should be my decision to make! You took that from me, Sam. Both of you," she fumed. "People have always looked down on me. Whether it be for where I was born, how much money I have, or who my father is. I can count on one hand the people who wanted to be my friends without you intervening. Theo was the only person in that school who saw me as a person. I wasn't Sam's little sister or the smartest person in class. I was simply a person. And you made me think all of that had been a lie. You made me feel unlovable, replaceable."

"She's a vampire."

"She's my friend!" (Y/N) yelled. "Look, I don't need to explain why or why those letters mattered to me. What I care about is that you took away my choice to decide on the matter. I'm not a child anymore, Sam. I do not need you to make decisions for me."

"Are you sure about that, (Y/N)?" Sam fumed. "You fall for one leech, he breaks your heart, and you turn into a depressed alcoholic. I missed one delivery from those bloodsuckers on your birthday, and it sent you down a spiral that had you in bed for days. From where I'm standing, I did you a favor by burning those letters."

Tears threatened to spill from the girl's eyes as anger bubbled inside her. She wanted to believe her brother's ire was misdirected, that his poignant words were jabbing at marble skin. But it was her he was speaking them to, and she wasn't made of impenetrable skin. "If that's what you believe," she said in a scary and calm tone. "But we'll need to table discussion for later. I can't be late."

(Y/N) walked past her brother and her friend, her bag in tow and her anger boiling in her veins. She knew the longer she stayed, the more likely she'd say something she regretted. Unlike the wolves, she couldn't let her ire consume her—there was no telling when she'd come out once she allowed the darkness to take over.

She was in her truck and ready to go when a knock at her side startled her. "What do you want, Paul?"

"Don't go, (Y/N)," he said. "He's not good for you."

"No one will ever be. Not to you. Not to Sam," she scoffed. "But it doesn't matter because I'm not getting back together with him. I'm only returning him where he belongs—to his family."

"We have enough leeches across the pond. We don't need one more."

"This is not about you or the wolves, Paul," she argued. "This is about a family that is shattered."

"They didn't care when you were the one that was broken."

"Lucky I'm not them," she said. "Now, go away unless you want me to run you over."

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