#thomas sharpe is In Love with his sister

[marzipanandminutiae]

"Thomas only loves Edith! He doesn't love Lucille!"

shut up shut up shut up

he couldn't leave her even when she was killing another woman he'd fallen for. he found freedom from the hell their lives had been since birth, and wouldn't escape into it without trying to bring her out of the darkness with him. she struck him a killing blow and he died reaching out for her with her name on his lips

oh god the Gothic tragedy of it. I'm chewing drywall

[smolvenger]

The Child Called Sharpe (Thomas Sharpe x fem! Reader Blurb)

Summary: You and Thomas Sharpe welcome your first baby and his second, as Thomas himself faces his own demons regarding his past.

Word Count: 1K (er...blurb or short oneshot, whatever)

Warnings: Mentions of Pregnancy and childbirth, but nothing graphic. In this version, though I try to have a more nuanced take on Lucille, In this fic I choose to portray the Lucille/Thomas relationship as nonconsensual, pedophilic, and abusive so if you don't like that don't read this, so mentions of sexual abuse, death, illness, blood with some of the canon events of Crimson Peak. But it becomes a lot of tooth-rotting fluff.

A/N: I can't please everyone with Crimson Peak on the is Lucille good or bad vrs. is Thomas good or bad discourse, so why bother trying anymore. I just wanna write my stuff. From @holdmytesseract's request!

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

Taglist: @asgards-princess-of-mischief @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @cheekyscamp @mochie85 @fandxmslxt69 @skittslackoffilter @mischief2sarawr

Love for him meant creation. It brought out Thomas’s gift of invention tenfold- for love itself was creation. For the first time in his life, an act of love brought out the child’s creation. So it was natural for Thomas to spend hours inventing more for this little child on their way.

That is, his second child. For he had a child, once, and lost that child, once. 

Yes, it was a child conceived from control rather than consent…but it was still a child in need of care. A hungry baby- a human life crying for milk, and burning with fever. A child “born wrong.” A child Enola swore to fight to keep alive. 

And a child that despite everything died anyway. As did Enola. 

Despite Lucille’s cruelty, he did pity her grief for that child- For it was his grief as well.

Lucille caught ill and died not long after. He at least made sure she died comfortably. Warm beneath blankets on a soft bed. Assured her she was loved and kissed her cheek as she took her last breath.

It was complicated, his feelings about his late sister. He never could decide one thing about her. For everything was true- there was both in her. Lucille, both cruel and misunderstood, powerful and pitiful, villain and victim.

Though he never once forced himself on anyone or took advantage of a child as she did to him…

And yet…

He was still guilty of scheming, of blood, of darkness as she was. Of the invention that he wanted to be funded, that he bought at the price of three women’s lives… 

But… assaulting him when he was little? Using his innocence until when he was grown he knew no other but her? You would tell him that even if the murders were understandable, she did cross a line in that regard.

He still didn’t know if the woman who at once was his partner, his equal, his sister as well as his jailer, his predator, his molester was deserving of it. 

Or not. 

Or both.

Yet, all of that darkness and blood was now in the past. Here you were his current wife. A wife who would never take advantage of him. A wife who listened and respected when he said “no.” A wife who wouldn’t push him. Wouldn’t manipulate him. Wouldn’t control him. A wife who forgave him and saw he was now trying to do right with his life, and his choices and would be there to support him.

 Your pregnancy was poignant.  A reminder that he had a new life now- and a life that was about to expand as your stomach did each month.  A new life was about to come forth literally and figuratively for him. 

In the corner of his workshop in a special box were toys he made once. Toys were made for the first child who died. 

He never prayed, but he did now to whoever listened. For once, those toys would know being loved, being played, and for a baby’s laughter and delight and adoration. They wouldn’t rust from age, but with use. To be worn not with dust, but with love.

He brought out the box one morning and set it in the nursery of his new house. A simpler house compared to Allerdale Hall’s Majesty. Smaller and brighter, made of cherrywood and over earth rather than clay. But cheerful, the warmth bursting in every room.

The toys were cleaned and set ready in that nursery corner. You squeezed his hand after he did so.

When making sure you were comfortable, or when you slept or napped, away he would be in his workshop. He had a special toy shop now next to the house. So in his downtime, he would be found creating little toys that a child of any sex would love. A little teddy bear that twirled on top of a drum. A little cat that lifted to lick its little paw next to a puppy that wagged its tail. 

But…what else would a baby need!? His mind was reeling. It had been too long…

Of course! A place to sleep! You had insisted the old wooden rocker would work…but he still had that itching, the gears in his mind whirring faster than any clay mine.

He took a few weeks to study the designs and then set right to work. He stayed up late, rolling up his sleeves. Working on one where if you pressed a small pedal, it would rock gently, oh so gently, as to not stir a baby to more wailing, but only to sleep.

So when he discovered that Lady Sharpe’s water broke, he insisted on staying by you.

“Thomas! But…husbands don’t..don’t usually stay!” you cried. You clutched his hand as he led you to the bed.

Lucille would urge him to leave when it was time to put a cleaver into one of the wives.

For once, he would look at the blood and the bodily innards spilling from his wife and not turn away.

He shook his head, though his hand was still in yours.

“No- My dear, all of my life, I closed my eyes and ran away. I didn’t look when things happened. Not this time- after I get the midwife, I am staying with you. I will not run away for once. I’m going to stay with my wife and keep my eyes open, no matter what I see. I love you- and for once, I am not leaving.” I will not leave you alone to deal with it now.

You grabbed him and kissed his cheek. Then he ran and fetched the midwife. He held to his word and stayed.

Labor is always long. Labor is always primal. But he waited there. Squeezing your hand, cooling your head for every painful cry and push. 

Then, after the long hours, though he was a man used to blood he turned pale… Then at last there was a cry.

The midwives smiled, bringing out a little baby in their blaket. Declaring, “It’s a girl!”

You let out a smile and then a laugh of relief. Thomas kissed your hand, then looked at her. His blue eyes brimmed with tears, but for once in his life they were happy ones.

The little girl was brought out in her blanket, needing her mother’s touch- being so new to this cold world and wanting the soft embrace of knowing she was loved now that she was here.

“Look at her…look at her- our baby! Our daughter! Oh!” you cried, a mess of crying, swear, and relief—the pain of the last several hours was forgotten for the tiny baby.

“I never could imagine it,” he agreed, he pecked her tiny forehead.

Once she had settled down, you handed her over to Thomas. The warm, living bundle in his arms. Yes, her cry was loud and bright…but it only signaled that she was alive.. He had never known such joy without confinement, without limits.

The midwives and nurses were paid and thanked. They left, but though it was a long day his Daedelian mind was eager to share his gift.

As you sat in the bed after a while, Thomas got up.

“I have a gift now. For her,” he announced.

Setting you in the wheelchair for rest, he led you to the nursery. The little girl in your arms. Inside the little pastel room there was something in the middle that was tall beneath a blanket.

Thomas walked forward and slipped the blanket off. You let out a gasp.

Beneath was the cradle Thomas made. It was stunningly beautiful- a little pedal that when he stepped on it, would make it rock. Over the bed was a music box on the side that trinkled a lullabye. Stars and a crescent moon dangled were placed to spin over the babies head where she would be placed.

You gasped, seeing how ornate it was. Every bit made with love. As you got up and placed her inside, she opened her little eyes and cooed. You made a little gasp as she took in the sight- her parents and her special gift. Music, rocking, and the stars and moon to dance above her.

To think, after all he had seen, experienced, and done…that he would come to know this moment. Here it was…and he didn’t feel worthy of it.

What when she was older? His own father was a monster. And for a while, fatherhood was linked to such things…

“I only hope I shall be a good father for that little girl…” Thomas wondered..

“You already are,” you assured him. You wrapped an arm around him and kissed him on the cheek.

That night, you were set to sleep after the exhaustion of delivery and elation of the baby. Thomas offered to be there in the nursery. For she was crying through that night, as any baby. Not that she was hungry, as he found out, she just needed warmth.

He got her out of the lovely cradle and went to the rocking chair. He wanted to hold her, feel her close. Her warmth and beating heart and life. 

His most precious creation of all…and the one that would survive. He knew she would.

“I promise you, my little love…” Thomas told the baby. “You will not know of attics. Of cold and punishments. Of plotting and murders. Of blood and cruelty…”

He kissed the top of her head.

“No- you will be Protected. Wanted…and loved.”

He would do everything so that his daughter would never have to suffer as he did.

[ugly-pickle]

Good morning, Pickle.

Please kindly consider this Ayato request: Your spoilt and pampered sister who has always destroyed every marriage prospect you have isn't happy that Ayato chose to marry you instead of her. So, on your wedding day, she has her servants destroy your wedding kimono as a fit of petty jealousy.

Please also kindly take as long as you need with this request; I have no qualms in waiting. Furthermore, by no means feel obligated to prioritize this request over your other requests.

lovely ☆ ayato

CHARACTERS: ayato x f!reader

SYNOPSIS: your sister seems to be upset when she finds out that you and ayato are engaged, so she casually ruins your wedding

GENRE: fluff 💿

W/C: 1.4k

C/W: cussing, betrayal, scissors, and physical touch (let me know if ive missed anything!)

A/N: OMG MY FIRST REQUEST AHRGHDSHH im currently working on your other request @sailorstar9 so just hold on tight! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

your sister is your everything, from the moment of her birth, when you held her in your arms you just knew you had to protect her until the sun and the moon collided, no, even after that you have to protect her. you thought all of the compassion youve shown your sister would help her bloom to be an elegant young lady, but has instead grown into a carrion flower.

your sister is certainly a bitch from time to time, but maybe it's because she doesnt have any suitors that truly love her, on the other hand you do. only an imbecile wouldnt want to be your lover, youre charming, funny, loving, intelligent, and beautiful. it could be out of jealousy that your sister had ruined your relationships with men who want your hand in marrige.

one day, you were having a fancy dinner with ayato, his family (plus thoma), you, and your family, when he suddenly got down on one knee and held out a ring with a fat diamond to you. you obviously accepted his proposal, and everyone in the room applauded for the two of you, except your sister.

for the next couple of months of your engagement with ayato, youve noticed that your little sister has become, well, bitter. her state worsens more and more the closer that the date of your wedding day approaches.

the week of your wedding day has finally arrived. the first gift youve received is from ayaka; you open the gift, you laid your eyes on the most beautiful kimono that has ever been made. the embroidery is truly one of a kind, the floral patterns was simply gorgeous, and the hair ornament looks so delicate that even the softest gush of wind could shatter it into pieces.

“oh my— ayaka this is beautiful…” youre at a loss of words, “im glad it’s to your liking,” ayaka responds with a sweet smile gracing her lips. “i will make sure that this kimono will never know what a blemish is,” you tell her solemnly, she giggles, “i wish i could talk to you longer, but im afraid that i have unavoidable duties to attend too,”

you bid ayaka farewell. you close the door behind you, you place the kimono back into its box and store it safely away. oh how you cannot wait to tells your friends and family about this gift, especially your sister.

when she heard about the news of your kimono that descended from celestia she threw an entire fit, one more immature than a toddler’s, but she does have her manners and did it once you had left the estate. her servants were comforting by her and calming her down, until one suggested to, perhaps, ruin the kimono?…

now that this idea has been implemented into your sister’s brain, nothing could lure it out. during the days leading up to your big day your sister has been ordering scissors so sharp that it could leave a scratch on the geo archon’s shield. your sister had selected her most loyal servants fit for the task to to shred your beloved wedding kimono to pieces.

your big wedding day is finally here! your bridesmaids are helping you get ready, they took you to the bath first, leaving your bedroom unattended.

the servants took this opportunity to sneak into your sleeping chambers and rummage through your things, looking for your kimono. after some time, one had found it; calling the others over, they started to get to work.

the embroidery now looks like the handwriting that belongs to a toddler, the floral designs had certainly seen better days, and the ornament is now smashed into pieces. the kimono now looks like the ghost from the ring would wear. your sister’s servants, pleased with their artwork, placed the kimono back into the box and storing it where they first found it.

you hear something scurry away, you open the door to see nothing. you shrug it off, “ladies, would you please bring my kimono? it’s in that box over there,” your bridesmaids nod there head, one of them grabs the box and places it on your bed. you open the box to find your kimono in a strange state.

your eyes widened in horror, you wanted to cry but you were in too much shock to do so. your bridesmaids were just as terrified as you are. the maid of honor instantly sent out two ladies, trying to order another kimono in such short notice. the ceremony is soon, you want someone to comfort you, but not the ladies with you. your sister? not a good idea, ayato? yes. but, hes busy.

you tell everyone to get out of the room, not wanting to shed tears infront of them, "but y/n, the wedding is soon, we cant afford to waste time, especially now." you acknowledge this for a moment, but with no dress you cant have the perfect wedding youve always dreamt of; besides the ladies cant get another kimono in time. "out. i already told you, get out," they cant do anything but put their heads down and listen to you, they exit the room one by one.

after the last one shuts the door, the tears fall down your face, you cant help it, you really cant. who did this? who would be so cruel, so jealous, so petty to do this? not even the tsaritsa would be this evil. the only person you know of who would do this is,

your sister?

how can she be so cruel?… but, jumping to conclusions is never good for anyone, and even if she did do this, it couldve been out of jealously.

.....

oh FUCK THAT SHIT, she just ruined your wedding for archons sake. you look at the clock. oh archons. the ceremony had started, but who cares, even a trash bag looks better than your wedding kimono.

tears are continuously rolling down your face, like a river that will never stop flowing. your sniffles are quiet, but it is the only rolling that can be heard in this room.

…

ayato is standing there at the alter, waiting for the love of his life, but she never shows up. worry suddenly floods his mind, what if something happened? he excuses himself and rushes to find you.

your sister sees him dashing towards her. have the archons finally answered her prayers? “oh ayato! i knew you would come to your senses sooner or later!” she exclaims. ayato, a bit disgusted, brushes her off and says politely, “i love y/n dearly and im currently searching for her, do you have any idea where she might be?”

one of your bridesmaids is running towards ayato, “over there ayato! quickly!” she shouts and points from across the room, unable to catch her breath. ayato nods, running towards where you are.

he slams the door open, “y/n—“ he cuts himself off when he sees your glossy eyes, tears falling down your face, your sniffles and breath trembling. “oh ayato,” you walk to your not-so-soon-to-be-husband and embrace him. the wet stain on his shoulder slowly growing.

for the first time in a while, ayato is genuinely shocked, hes seeing his lover upset, crying, and he cant do anything about it. “my love, whats wrong? what happened?”

you point to your bed, ayato takes a look and sees why— he and ayaka spent hours searching for a dress thats one of a kind and meant for you. his eyes widen a bit then relax again. he places his hand on the small on your back and rubs it in small circles.

he comforts you by saying, “i am beyond lucky to have you as my bride, even the most expensive jewels cannot be compared to your beauty because you outshine all, so please dont be too upset about this matter. i will find a dress made in celestia just to please my wonderful my darling.” he kisses your temple and pulls say, his face looks a bit more eerie now.

“your sister, right?” ayato asks you. “i think so—” ayato cuts you off, “i’ll cut off that bitches head as soon as possible, dont worry y/n.”

:)

A/N: this was VERY rushed but i hope you still enjoyed it ૮ ⸝⸝o̴̶̷᷄ ·̭ o̴̶̷̥᷅⸝⸝ ྀིა

imagine a plot twist where the sister is in love with you lol (i dont write incest)

TAGLIST: @sailorstar9 @gummy-dummy @hopefulceladon @username-try-3

[brokehorrorfan]

Crimson Peak will be released on 4K Ultra HD on May 21 via Arrow Video. Guy Davis, the film’s concept artist, designed the packaging for the 2015 Gothic horror/romance.

Master of horror Guillermo del Toro directs from a script he co-wrote with frequent collaborator Matthew Robbins (Mimic, Pinocchio). Mia Wasikowska, Jessica Chastain, Tom Hiddleston, Charlie Hunnam, and Jim Beaver star.

The limited edition set comes with a double-sided fold-out poster, four double-sided postcards, and an 80-page book featuring writings by David Jenkins and Simon Abrams, an interview with Guillermo del Toro, and conceptual illustrations by Guy Davis and Oscar Chichoni, all housed in a slipcase.

Crimson Peak is presented in 4K with Dolby Vision, approved by del Toro, and original DTS:X Master Audio sound. Special features are listed below, where you can also see the full packaging.

Special features:

Audio commentary by director/co-writer Guillermo Del Toro

The House is Alive: Constructing Crimson Peak - Feature-length documentary with cast and crew interviews and behind the scenes footage

Spanish-language interview with Guillermo Del Toro

The Gothic Corridor; The Scullery; The Red Clay Mines; The Limbo Fog Set - Four featurettes on Allerdale Hall

A Primer on Gothic Romance featurette

The Light and Dark of Crimson Peak featurette

Hand Tailored Gothic featurette

A Living Thing featurette

Crimson Phantoms featurette

Beware of Crimson Peak - Walking tour of Allerdale Hall with Tom Hiddleston

Interview with film historian Kim Newman

Violence and Beauty in Guillermo Del Toro’s Gothic Fairy Tale Films - Video essay by the film historian Kat Ellinger

Deleted scenes

Original trailers and TV spots

Also included:

Double-sided foldout poster

Four double-sided postcards

80-page, hard-bound book with writing by David Jenkins and Simon Abrams, an interview with Guillermo del Toro, and conceptual illustrations by artists Guy Davis and Oscar Chichoni

Beginning in Buffalo, New York, during the 1880s, Crimson Peak follows Edith Cushing (Mia Wasikowska), an aspiring writer who is haunted by the death of her mother. Edith’s falls in love with seductive stranger Thomas Sharpe (Tom Hiddleston), who whisks her off to Allerdale Hall, his baronial, yet dilapidated English mansion built upon a mountain of blood-red clay. Here Edith meets Lucille (Jessica Chastain), Thomas’s sister who at times seems hostile and jealous. As Edith struggles to feel at home in the imposing residence, she gradually uncovers a horrendous family secret and encounters supernatural forces that will help her discover the terrible truth behind Crimson Peak.

Pre-order Crimson Peak.

[andraxicated]

Inazuma drift

Pairings: Itto, Ayato, Kazuha, Thoma, Heizou x f! reader

Synopsis: Inazuma men in the world of racing

Tags: smut | porn with more plot (always!) | oral (m! & f! receiving) | age gap | breeding kink | riding | subby thoma | photocopy machine sex (we have this large ass photocopy machine i swear anyone can sit there and it won't break down.)

a/n: let us say goodbye to inazuma while waiting for the sumeru daddies😗 btw i know nothing about cars.

reblogs are so much appreciated!

reading all of them is not required but they're somehow connected

Itto

got into racing because of him having to pay his fines at the police station. his boys was the one that suggested to try underground racing despite Shinobu's disapproval. do they ever listen to her? no.

Itto wished he did tho. she was right, because on the first night he challenged someone to a race to own their awesome, shiny car...he fucking lost and was dubbed the "newbie with balls". but that was all in the past, because now he was the new DK. from being a newbie with balls, he became the Drift King.

he certainly had come a long way and now practically owns the world of underground racing. but everything just gets a little too tiring when you're not with him. Itto knocks on your door, expecting for you to greet him with a bear hug yet your sour face and cleavage comes to view.

"hey...what's the matter?" "you don't know?" you ask as if he's lost his mind and crossed your arms. turns out he's missed his date with you on your day off and you have work tomorrow; shutting the door in his face yet his bulky figure blocks it from closing. "baby...let me explain!" he shouts and groans in pain from your intentional squeezing of him against the door.

aside from being crazy good at drifting, he's also good at making it up to you! the drift king was humbled to a waiting mess as his cock throbs in his pants from your raised dress, crotchless panty staring right at him. he swears he always makes the wrong decisions when he could've had your pussy earlier than spend hours behind the wheel.

your sharp heel mockingly jabs at his chest, crossed arms and an unsatisfied expression on your face. "go on" you instruct, and that was his cue to press a kiss on your ankle, his hand immediately coming up to your inner thigh to play. "ah..." you let out a breathy moan when his lips slide all the way from your ankle to your thigh, leaving a wet trail on its path. your hole quivers from him being so close to you that it caught Itto's attention, dead-set on giving you the best orgasm of your life.

his head settles properly between your thighs, massaging the flesh while giving you an apologetic smile. "let me make it up to you. later, we'll talk when you're not angry." he says before going down and hiding himself beneath your dress; a wet muscle oh so familiar inside you, wastes no time licking and cleaning your wetness. Itto kisses and eats you out like he's repenting for his sins, his goddess pushing his head deeper for more. "mhmmmhm" you couldn't understand a word he was humming against your folds, yet you knew the vibrations almost brought you to your high; perhaps it was his verbal apology?

Ayato

you bet ayato was one of those rich brats who loved to compete with each other with their fancy cars and drifting skills. he used to be so reckless, worrying his parents, his sister, and you. a mere family friend who would so often trail behind his sister and blush at every smile he throws your way. he thought you were cute like a puppy and so he would often take you to eat afternoon snacks with him after school. but after his father's death, a sudden responsibility fell into his hands that he was simply too busy to acknowledge you. returning to the corporate world meant you had to distance yourself for good, and it was fine. your teenage crush on him was the highlight of those years that passed by.

coming back to inazuma after years had you facing a problem with ayaka. she had a desperate expression on her face, clasping your hands in hers as she says "please convince my brother to stop". stop what? then you're suddenly informed of his reckless hobby coming back. now standing in front of his penthouse, you almost dropped the cookies you brought when he opened the door. wearing only a bathrobe, wet hair looking messy and the sweet smell of soap hitting you like a truck. you're shamelessly staring at him until he recognizes who the fuck was standing at his door. "(y/n)?" he looked surprised that the little friend he had back then was the stunning woman in front of him today.

you exchanged stories until you told him why ayaka sent you there. the mood taking a turn for the worse as he lets out an exasperated sigh. "i understand her concern but please tell her everything is fine. it's a fairly safe sport." he coaxes you with a hand over yours, caressing your knuckles as you feel ticklish uneasiness. and god, ayato felt so fucking perverted! he almost felt guilty for stealing glances at your body and observing you like a feast. but it's not like you didn't do the same...

caught in the middle of an incoming sibling fight, you don't know what to do. and so you take a cab to his apartment, ringing the doorbell and seeing his frustrated face melt away at the sight of you; it makes you wonder if it held any meaning. "you're back here again." his stern voice startled you as his hostility sunk your heart. everything felt heavy that you can't look him in the eye, fearing to see his angry gaze. he must've been annoyed by ayaka's constant attempt of stopping his racing through you. yet what better way to release his frustrations than destroying the messenger? literally.

"i was right that you wear this kind of panties". his finger bottomed inside you flicking, while the other hand pinned both of your wrists, brushing your hair against your face. your lace panty with the little ribbon was pushed to the side, and your best friend's brother pressed kisses against your neck that was sure to bruise. "ayato stoppp." you whine mindlessly, half of your working brain remembering that those hickeys will be very evident in the morning. "you sure?" his tone was condescending as he inserted another finger stuffing you full. some of your juices squelching lewdly as you could only bite your lip while he smirks.

all the frustrations in life were released on you as ayato pinned you against the bed in a mating press. your thighs against your chest as he kept on thrusting from above. his cock was sore but he couldn't stop from gliding against your delicious heat, fully willing to release inside you and trap you with a child. "it isn't your first time huh? then quit being shy you whore." ayato was soo mad when you admitted to having someone else touch you before :(( he knew you first and so he should have been the one to claim you! he sighs as he keeps on entering your tired body, listless eyes below him and he keeps on thinking if somebody else saw you debauched like that.

"i'm not gonna stop if you let one drop out of you" he commands and you instinctively clench your walls, trying to keep his cum inside even if some of it spills from his continuous thrusting. the sensation of your pussy sucking him further has him hovering over you and kissing you silly, and his cock twitched, exploding its warmth inside you for the umpteenth time that night. ayato stays for a while plugged inside you, bringing your spent body over his for a cuddle. "do you think a niece or nephew will help her anger?"

Kazuha

you would think he's a pen-and-paper type of guy. Poetry incarnate as people sneakily take pictures of him and his book on campus. Yet what people don't know is that behind those cute and soft sweatshirts of his, he trades them for leather jackets at midnight.

kazuha doesn't actually enjoy racing, sure it's fun to beat people who arrogantly challenge him but he'd prefer to coop up in the warmth of your bed and the intimate silence of your room. you were all he could think about as he sits on the hood of the car, swatting touchy hands as his friends converse with fellow enthusiasts. and after spacing out for a few minutes, there it is...his challenge for the night.

a shout of his name arrogantly rings from the opposing side, kazuha then matches the cocky energy while jumping off the hood, a smirk etched on his lips. kazuha swears after he beats this guy's ass, he'll head straight for your house. and there he finds himself panting, fumbling with the keys you gave him for your door.

yet before he could find out which key was right, the door opens to you engulfing him in a bear hug. " 'zuha!" your voice was muffled against his jacket and he chuckles while embracing you with the same enthusiasm. "(y/n)!" he drawls out your name playfully while you two sway each other in a blissful embrace, resting his head on your shoulder with his hand stroking your hair.

"you've been so busy lately..." "i told you you can hang around while i'm reviewing but you didn't even come" you whine while kazuha's deft hands slowly pull up your sweater past your raised arms, revealing your black bra and the sight of your mounds. you thought you would be more into rough handling but you can't deny the effect kazuha has when he's softly tracing his hands all over your body. glancing at you from below to gauge your reactions.

"kazuha—ah!" you could only moan with your jaw slack as you sink down on his cock, his pants zipper open and the clothing hanging low, he didn't even bother to take it off! but the sight of your breasts bouncing even covered was enough to get him riled up for more. kazuha bit his lip and hissed, thrusting faster into your cervix from the sweet expression on your face. "fucking hell (y/n), why are you so damn tight..." he groaned, gripping your waist to meet him halfway in shaky motions.

it was tiring to be constantly on top, your thighs were burning and pools of cum felt sticky and hot on your center. yet the boy below doesn't have any plans to stop any time now. you took a glance at him and saw the fire in his eyes and felt the sly twitching of his member. "why are you so worked up?" you couldn't help but ask since he normally would stop when you're tired, opting to cuddle and bathe you. but have you seen yourself through his eyes? you looked so damn good above him! even in the afterglow of sex where your hair was messy, beads of sweat on your face, and absent-mindedly tilting your head while asking him. yeah, he'd definitely want more if his girlfriend was this hot.

Thoma

he wandered around inazuma for god knows how long, picking up odd jobs here and there just to sustain his pitiful attempt at starting over. it wasn't until the son of the restaurant owner he's working for felt bad about thoma's life story. and then on one rowdy night with an arm slung over his back, he's suddenly thrown into the world of racing just as he's playfully shoved behind the wheels. "wait i can't drive!" "dude, you're going to be fine!"

thoma was forced to risk his life and the borrowed car all for that 1% chance of winning the race. god, he felt so humiliated after but the boys who brought him there just patted his back rather harshly. they kept on saying it's fine but thoma knows it wasn't. he's prepared for the things coming his way from falling in with the wrong crowd.

juggling restaurant work and housework for that family was tiring yet he stayed. perhaps it was destiny working for him that he got to meet you while thinking about turning in his resignation. "excuse me, is there anyone home right now?" your sudden voice had goosebumps rising, his shoulders flinching as a painful shock was sent straight to his heart. thoma turned around to see who it was and he swore his breath hitched—like he can't breathe.

aside from your pretty face, his eyes naturally darted over your body; top that's barely holding your boobs, your cute tummy exposed by the crop top, and the absurdly tight miniskirt that left no room for imagination. thoma's a man, after all, his shorts pathetically tightened with one glance at you because you looked insanely good! the type he wants to bend over—" um excuse me?" you raised your voice a bit to garner his attention, eyes squinting as the man scratches his neck and nodded. "yes, young master is over there. let me lead you." a lustful scan of your body would have earned a slap but this one's an exception...he's just too hot! you can't deny the forming patch of wetness as you kept on admiring from behind.

you were just a classmate who went once for a project but seeing their cute housekeeper had you faking friendships just to get closer to thoma. now you're getting dragged to underground races that were too rowdy for your liking, yet you had to keep up and act like it wasn't boring you out. but when it was thoma's turn who seriously sat behind the wheel, you can't help the cheshire grin forming on your lips.—the race was upsettingly dirty:(( the opponent kept on colliding purposely into thoma's car while your man still chose to play nice. even though he expectedly lost, his good boy act tugged at your heartstrings and you simply decided to reward him for being so good♥︎you can't stand the sight of him being down.

"(y/n)!" he looked shocked to see you that he stood up and cans of beer fell along. to say he's embarrassed from the race and you seeing him drinking his ass off near a river was an understatement. he was beyond humiliated. and you know what could cheer him up as his sticky gazes didn't go unnoticed. "you did well." your sweet voice made blood rush to his cock as quickly as he forgot his somber. what was he sad about? coz this little display of you slowly kneeling in front of him had his eyes zeroed in on you. nothing else mattered but the sound of his zipper and the freeing of his huge member. "let me make you feel good...my champion." you coo before going down his cock and thoma throwing his head back in delight.

you sucked him off so good that tears edged on his eyes. his bulbous tip deliciously filling your mouth, prodding on your throat as you go down and try to take him in. teeth lightly grazing against the skin brought shudders to thoma's body as he instinctively caught your hair and pushed you closer to his waist. "f-fuck, i'm so sensitive" he breathed out as your tongue slid from the base to the tip, obscenely engulfing the rest of his cock while staring up at him. he felt so wanted by your moans, your warm cavern, and your glossy gaze. he already forgot what happened earlier but you had to jab it in him and destroy his fantasy. "you always looked so cute losing." you say while in between his cock, pulling off with a pop when he's red and ready to release. "but i want you to cum inside me not my mouth."

Heizou

currently in the middle of a chase was not how you expected your night to go. during lunch break where he chanced upon you alone in the pantry, he sheepishly asked you if you wanted to go out tonight. you almost dropped the coffee bun out of your mouth if not for the teeth that held onto the bread, saving you the embarrassment in front of your workplace crush. heizou was perfect in your eyes, his handsome looks added on top of his strong pursuit for justice. but that same thing you loved about him ended up being the one you hate. he was an avid pursuer of justice even on your date. so when his eyes notice something wrong, you could only tighten your hold on your coat for you know what's going to happen.

this was going to be a failed night as your eyes gloom and your heart sinks. forcing yourself to stand behind heizou as he questions the troubled citizen. you wished he would've noticed how down you were or how good you looked. "(y/n) hurry up! we can't let them escape!" he says while running through alleyways both crowded and empty. has it ever occurred to him that you're wearing heels? your blood is boiling amidst the cold air that you stop running and just watch him turn into a tiny dot. you sigh and pull out your phone, clicking heizou's name and dialing him.

in the same area somewhere, heizou keeps running while fumbling his jacket for his phone. he answers and asks "who is this?" and his voice was breathy on your side, making you roll your eyes. "check the name." your voice stung that he suddenly slowed down and looked at his phone, looked behind him, and gulped before nervously saying "(y/n) where are you?" "i know where they are headed, i'll send the location." "okay, where should we meet?" "we won't. i'll go there first." "wait!-" and you hung up and left a bitter feeling in his stomach. heizou groans to the sky before slamming his head to his hands.

he's welcomed by the rowdy and noisy venue of underground racing in inazuma. he wanted to question how you know this place but judging from how people waved when you passed by, you were a frequenter of the sport. "there. those guys are the ones you're looking for." you pointed at the glee ones with their friends, and heizou comes in being a party pooper just as you expected. his ask for the cooperation of a complaint made by a citizen was met with hostile refusal by the guy. they were now at each other's throats with a crowd forming around them as you stood watching them.

yet this guy suddenly called attention to you by shouting your name, everyone's gaze transferring to you. "hey (y/n)? this your boyfriend?" "no." you reply. "then he must be a coworker. did you snitch on us you bitch?" underground racing wasn't illegal in inazuma. as long as no damage to property was made and no harm was done. but there had been a complaint about his actions that caused heizou to step up. yet an insult to your face was not one you tolerated, nor did heizou. "what did you say you asshole?" your eyes almost popped out of their sockets when you heard heizou's voice loud and clear, cursing; and the guy dared to reply. "i said what i said, she's a sneaky little bitch!" heizou won't resort to violence even at the point of anger. he'll abide by the rules of the underground and say "if i win a race, i'll cuff your mouth and take you to the station with me."

he's crazy! but your heart was pounding crazier, both from his stupid choice and his defense for you. "heizou, i have a friend who's one of the best. let him race for you." "no thanks. besides i'll be fine, heard the best players left earlier." he says before going to a car that a tall blonde guy lent. "please do us all a favor of removing that insect. he's pretty annoying." he bowed playfully before guiding you to the area where the crowd will be. you mouthed a goodluck before heizou smiled and settled himself in the seat. the race was intensely close yet with an unexpected twist, heizou won against the chosen representative. he had some officers take the guy away while he waited for you to finish talking with your friends. "shall we go now?" he suddenly asked, bringing your attention to him. "where?" "to our date."

oh. he still remembered yet the magic of a romantic atmosphere was gone. "i'm really tired, let's call it a day." you were too tired to be with him and so you left without sparing a glance. on the next day of work that you overtimed, heizou approached while you were busy using the photocopy, standing without speaking until your empty gaze fell on him. "i'm really sorry about yesterday." "it's fine." the shuffle of papers and your curt response was making him uneasy. he knew he had to mend this now. as you're arranging and waiting for the papers, you feel the sudden press of warmth against your back, and your stomach against the machine. "heizou?" your voice heightened as his hand slides from your arms to your waist, inching closer to your center. "(y/n) 'm really sorry. but i want to talk with you. please."

wait. how did a supposed talk go to kisses and messy removal of clothes? moaning wantonly with heizou between your legs was not how you expected your overtime to go, but you gladly welcomed it just like how your hole flutters for his thick fingers. "loose up for me baby" he groans against your skin as you tighten and throb, skirt against the glass of the photocopy. "heizou—we can't!" your words were useless when you kept on moaning like a whore, nails clumping his shirt when he enters a third digit inside your pussy. he unclasps your bra and takes them off your shoulder, lips latching quickly on the hardened nub.

he flicks with his tongue, lolling around while massaging the soft flesh. blessing you with amazing foreplay before you go and beg him to fuck you. then you suddenly enclose his face between your hands, sultry voice purring "heizou 'want you now", there he swore something inside him snapped. he took you off the copy machine, making your back face him as he unzips the skirt harshly and lets it fall while letting out his cock. "don't worry bou't making a noise. we have the whole office to ourselves." he reassures with a sticky kiss to your neck before lining up with your hole, pushing inside as you gasp, hand gripping whatever you could grab.

what's more obscene was your face contorted with pleasure, reflected against the glass surface of the photocopy machine, and the tuft of wine-red hair thrusting behind. signifying that it was your dear heizou fucking you and making up for the lost time.

[jokeringcutio]

I see you have Crimson Peak listed for fics 👀

Picture this: Sir Thomas Sharpe doesn't have a sister and was never abused, therefore never got into the black widower routine. He's just a struggling inventor in London to wrangle investors for his machine because he's the last of his crumbling family line.

Reader is an heiress who rarely gets out because she's anxious and prone to panic attacks. Quite a sweet and pretty girl, but her parents are ashamed of her and hide her away.

Anyway there's a Halloween masquerade being held in town and both reader and Thomas attend (whether they sneak in or not is up to you) and they meet. They both feel more at home with each other than anyone else in the city, and start seeing each other secretly and fall in love.

Up to you if he asks permission to marry her or they elope and the parents pay to cover it up, but they get married and use her money to fund his inventions and fix up crimson peak. And have kid(s) to continue the family line.

A happy romantic story for two sweet and ignored people 🥰 (smut scene if you wanna, but it should be romantic)

-🐀

AN: Follow me for more Halloween Reader Inserts. More stories will follow this month.

Sir Thomas Sharpe x Reader – Halloween (Sweet AU) Fandom: Crimson Peak Pairing: Sir Thomas Sharpe x Reader Rating: Teen Summary:  AU in which Sir Thomas Sharpe never had his sister corrupt him and meets Reader at a Halloween masquerade.

Warnings: None Really. Romance. Talk about marriage and kids. Drama. Tiny bit of Angst? Sorry it was written in a rush. Possible Cameo for Albert Shaw.

Charity

In the comfort of your tower chamber, you stood, gazing out of the circle-top window at the people who passed in the streets below. You didn’t feel the need to be among them, content to be up here by yourself in a room full of comfort and little knick-knacks. You had your peace and quiet and you were content with it.

The wealth you had been born in, and the hefty salary that your parents paid you each month, was enough to ensure you wouldn’t have to lift a finger for the entirety of your life. Rich, others would call you. But if they could see your bedroom they might doubt that you were.

You didn’t feel the need for all the lavishness that money could grant you. You hardly spent a dime other than the usual necessities. Material possessions had little interest for you. Instead, you found solace in spending your money on charity, giving away some of your income to charities on a steady base.

It was almost fitting, then, that your heart would be captured by a man who was once a charity case himself.

You met him during one of the few occasions where you were allowed to venture out of your tower where your parents usually kept you locked away… like a secret. They were ashamed because you were still a spinster in your twenties. And you could not blame them. People looked at you oddly and whispered behind your back in the streets. And so you didn’t want to go out and be among them any longer, hiding yourself much to your parents’ relief.

But there were such occasions where you would go out. Usually small balls or events with family and close friends. Sometimes, to bigger events where you knew that people would not be able to recognize you.

You feared their reactions if they saw you, feared what they would say or do.

The yearly Halloween Masquerade was an event you dreaded. The stuffy ballroom, the leering gazes, the suffocating press of bodies all around - it threatened to bring forth the panic attacks that plagued your life. Yet tonight, as you stood at the edge of the dance floor, your eyes took in the beautiful sight of the latest fashion dresses and suits. Beautiful women and men danced together, their masks hiding their faces, yet they grew intimate in their dance. You wondered how it felt, had done so for a while, but at the same time weren’t keen to experience it yourself.

You tried to hide away, to not be noticed, despite the dress you wore; the silken emerald fabric hugged your curves and cascaded down to the floor, shimmering with each movement. The intricate golden mask on your face only partially concealed your identity, but it was enough to give you a fleeting sense of anonymity. People still stopped to ask you for a dance. Men still stopped.

You disliked their leering gazes, the way their eyes seemed to undress you from behind the masks. And so you tried your best to avoid dancing with them. Their intentions were clear, and you were not interested in any of them. Your heart raced, anxiety clawing its way up your throat. If only this evening could come to an end.

And then, a familiar face appeared among the crowd. Your savior. Giselle, one of the few friends you had, came rushing towards you in a gown matching your own. Her wide smile a beacon of relief.

"Would you care to dance?" she asked, her eyes twinkling behind her mask. Finally, you were rescued.

Gratitude surged through you, and a genuine smile bloomed on your face. "I'd love to."

As you danced with Giselle, the familiar pressure in your chest began to dissipate. Her laughter, light and carefree, seemed to chase away the shadows that clung to your heart. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, you allowed yourself to enjoy the sensation of being alive. And you laughed; a pure, wholehearted smile.

Your joy was noted.

As you and Giselle danced, you felt the burning gaze of someone on your form. You carefully started to glance around.

“What are you doing?” Giselle asked, having noticed how your eyes traced the room.

“Someone’s watching me,” you mumbled, just loud enough for your voice to be carried over the tones of the music.

Giselle chuckled as she spun you around gracefully. “Of course, people are watching us,” she said, a sneer appeared on her face. “The Duke of Sparington has been trying to get my attention all evening. I’m so glad to get away. The guy’s in his forties and already has two kids and a tummy like a barrel. If I were to marry him he’d kill me in his sleep just by rolling over and ending on top of me.”

At this, you couldn’t help but laugh again, even though Giselle seemed to be grimacing at your reaction. It was obvious that she was repulsed by the man who had decided to chase her.

“Tell me, for the love of God,” you started, “That your parents won’t allow the match.”

But Giselle sighed deeply. “They’re much like yours,” she muttered, squeezing your hand a little too tightly as you continued the dance. “Eager to have me wed, even though they said to have given up on me already.”

Your eyes turned wide. “Well, you must convince them to hand you to another. If not younger, then at least thinner so you won’t be suffocated during your night’s rest.”

Giselle grinned at this, appreciating the joke. But you knew her situation was slightly different than yours. Albeit having been born in money pretty much like you had, Giselle’s dowry wasn’t nearly as large as yours. And her parents could not hide her away like yours had with you. The day for her to marry seemed to be closing in with each passing year.

You dreaded the thought.

If only we could marry for love, you thought solemnly. You held Giselle’s hand in your own as you spun around the room. And as the music swelled, your eyes drifted across the ballroom, settling on a figure who stood in stark contrast to the colorful array of masks and costumes. He was tall, slender yet muscular, clad in black as though he were an ethereal shadow amidst the sea of gaiety. His piercing blue eyes seemed to draw you in, ensnaring you with their intensity.

You couldn't look away. It was as if an invisible thread connected you both, pulling tighter with each passing second. Desire coursed through your veins, leaving you breathless. The world around you blurred, leaving only the two of you locked in this magnetic dance of longing.

This was the man who had been watching you. This was the gaze you had felt all along.

"Your turn," Giselle whispered, releasing your hand. It was then that the dark stranger approached, his movements fluid and graceful as he closed the distance between you.

"May I have this dance?" His voice was soft, yet carried an undertone of command.

"Of course," you breathed, entranced by the mysterious man before you. As he took your hand, electricity sparked between you, igniting a fire deep within your soul.

"Thomas Sharpe," he introduced himself as the two of you began to sway to the music. His low voice sent a shiver of pleasure down your spine.

Your bodies moved in perfect harmony as if you'd danced together countless times before. He was good, you noticed. Kept his rhythm well and moved fluently, despite his tall height and rather stiff appearance. This mysterious man took you by surprise completely.

You whispered your name and gazed up at the masked stranger. His blue eyes seemed warm as they lay upon you, peering through the holes of the black and blue mask. The silver lines only emphasized the blue of his eyes, making him seem more like a spirit than a man. Could he be real?

“I haven’t seen you here before,” you murmured, weakly, as you tried to focus on the steps you took with your feet. Focusing was hard, because Thomas’s scent and warmth distracted you, and brought your mind to places your mother would describe as the gutter.

How did this man manage to bring about such wicked thoughts, you wondered? Especially now that you could not even see his full face?

“Ah, yes. That is because I am not from around here,” Thomas replied, and that would explain it all. During your years living here, you’d become familiar with most faces of the high society. And many of them you wished you’d never seen. “I’m only visiting shortly in an attempt to raise sponsors willing to support my cause.”

“And what cause is that?” you asked, eyes meeting his as the two of you swayed gently from side to side.

Something in Thomas’s eyes lit up, like the subject you allowed him to talk about brought him real joy. Joy, and something else. Hope, you wondered?

"I'm working on a machine to mine red clay from the earth surrounding my family's estate," Thomas explained, his eyes burning with passion. "I believe it has the potential to bring great wealth, but I'm in desperate need of funding."

Red bells went off inside your mind. Another gold digger, you thought. You’d seen them before, met them before, although they never had such a great impact as Thomas had.

"Red clay?" You frowned, intrigued by the man and his ambitions. Was he not just another suitor seeking your fortune, but someone fueled by dreams and desires much like your own?

"Indeed, it's a valuable resource with numerous applications," he continued, his grip on your hand tightening ever so slightly. "But my family's fortune has dwindled, and our estate is crumbling,” here he paused, giving you time to think. “I'm determined to restore it to its former glory."

"Tell me more," you urged, your heart pounding as power and desire mingled within you. He was a man of ambition, and you felt drawn to him like a moth to a flame.

As the music played on and the dance floor spun around you, Thomas spoke of his dreams, his lips brushing against your ear with each whispered word. The world outside ceased to exist - it was just you and Thomas, bound together by shared passions and undeniable attraction.

"Thomas," you breathed, feeling as if you were on the brink of something dangerous, yet incredibly thrilling. Your fingers intertwined, creating a bond that seemed unbreakable.

"Time seems to stand still with you," he murmured, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made your heart race.

And in that moment, you knew that your life would never be the same.

Perhaps the decision you took was rash. But you had thought about it, had done so for years before this moment had come. You had refused every man who had come to your door simply because you hadn’t felt that spark. You even had started to think you were incapable of feeling such feelings at all. But then Thomas came onto the scene, and he rose feelings inside of you that you had never felt before.

Love. Lust.

Both feelings combined made you feel powerful and strong. If you could feel this for a man, then surely, you would have to chase the chance to be with him. If he wouldn’t want to have you, then so be it, but you at least had to try. You had always been honest about your feelings and had always listened to your heart when you made decisions.

Your heart raced as you pulled Thomas closer, your fingers entwined like tendrils of ivy. The music swelled around you, a wild torrent that threatened to drown out everything else.

"Thomas," you whispered, voice trembling with emotion. "I... I like you."

The words hung in the air between you, a fragile confession that could shatter at any moment. He looked both elated and afraid, his blue eyes wide and vulnerable. What an odd reaction, you thought, alarmed by the fear you saw in his eyes. Did he not want you? You knew it was only one meeting that you had, a few dances that you shared, but there was that spark. That moment when the two of you had gazed into each other’s eyes and had forgotten the world.

Surely, that must have meant something to him, right?

"Truly?" His voice cracked, and he swallowed hard. But then his grip on you faltered and you whimpered sadly when his arms fell away. A rejection, you thought upset.

"Sweet girl of mine,” Thomas whispered, the affection making you flinch because it felt so right – but you feared that in a moment he would be gone.

“I can’t give you what you need,” Thomas continued, voice laced with pain. As if admitting this hurt him more than you could possibly imagine. His hand reached for yours again, gently holding it.

“I haven't much to offer. My family's fortune is nearly gone, our estate in ruins...You’d be cold and far away from your family, living with a man who is hardly more than a bagger, trying to scrape back his family’s fortune and bringing back some lost glory to the Sharpe’s name."

"None of that matters to me," you assured him, feeling a strange mixture of fear and exhilaration. It was as if you were free-falling, the ground rushing towards you at breakneck speed. “I would like to explore the possibilities of there being an us. Of you being with me.”

But before he could respond, the music screeched to a halt, leaving you breathless and off-balance. Thomas' grip on your hand loosened, and he looked away, his eyes flicking towards the shadows that lingered at the edge of the ballroom.

"Please excuse me," he muttered, slipping away from you like water through your fingers. You watched him go, feeling bereft and adrift in the suddenly too-large room.

"Who was that?" Giselle asked, appearing at your side with a concerned frown. "You look... shaken."

"Thomas Sharpe," you murmured, still searching for him among the swirling throng of dancers. "He just... left."

"Perhaps it's for the best," she suggested, her gaze following yours. "Forget about him, darling. Dance the night away with me instead."

2.

The next day, you found yourself holed up in your tower chamber, the memory of your dance with Thomas haunting your every waking moment. You had inquired after him, researched him, desperate for any scrap of information that might help you understand the man who had so thoroughly captivated you. Luckily, your parents and their servants could provide you with all the information you might need.

"Sir Thomas Sharpe," you whispered to yourself, tracing the letters on the page with your fingertips. "Baronet and engineer."

You learned that his family line was dwindling. He was the last alive, with no heir to carry on the name. His house, once grand and imposing, now lay in ruins - a testament to the passage of time and the ravages of decay. But despite it all, Thomas still dreamed of resurrecting his family's fortune with his ambitious red clay mining project.

And you thought he might be onto something.

With renewed vigor, you set about drawing up plans for his machine, inspired by the conversation you'd shared while dancing. The hours slipped away as you sketched and calculated, determined to lend your own talents to his cause.

Your heart hammered in your chest as you spread the blueprints across the table, studying them with a critical eye. This was something real, something tangible that could bring you closer to the man who had stolen your heart in one dizzying waltz.

"Thomas Sharpe," you murmured again, feeling the name curl around your tongue like a secret. "I'll find you... I promise."

3.

A new day dawned, and you found yourself summoned to the drawing room. The request, although not unusual, surprised you, because your mother demanded you’d be presentable. Fear gripped your heart at that because it could only mean one thing.

A suitor.

And how you dreaded to come face to face with a man whose visage or demeanor repulsed you. Especially now that your mind was set on only one man in the entire universe.

The door creaked open to reveal Thomas standing there in front of your parents, hat in hand, his black coat clinging to his slender frame. His gaze met yours, a piercing blue that sent a shiver down your spine and weakened your knees. This was the first time you properly saw his face and oh-my! He was handsome. More so than you had envisaged him to be in your dreams. It felt as if your heart stopped beating entirely and as if the world froze in a blizzard of roses and butterflies. This man.

But wait, had he come looking for you?

"Miss," he began, his voice soft as silk, "I must confess that ever since our encounter at the masquerade, I have been unable to forget you." There was something gritty about his voice that betrayed the truth of his words. As if he had tried his best to put you out of his mind and had failed.

You liked that, though. You liked the thought of him being unable to forget you. It meant he was as much on your mind as you were on his. Your heart raced at his admission, but you fought to maintain your composure.

Your parents, who had been watching the exchange with keen interest, seemed to light up at the whole display. Your father spoke with enthusiasm, "Sir Thomas Sharpe here asked for your hand in marriage,” he said to you. “I think it would be a wonderful match.”

Your heart skipped a beat as your mother turned to Thomas with a smile. “Sir Thomas, we would be honored to welcome you into our family."

Thomas stood rigidly, and you could have missed the relief that flooded his eyes entirely had you not been looking at them. There was a sudden warmth to his gaze that told you that this was what he had come for.

But at the same time, you felt doubt cling to your heart. You wanted him, but… he stood so rigid, so unmoving. Like a true gentleman, you thought. But were your parents aware of his misfortune, you wondered? Or had he tricked them into making a match? The rich spinster whose parents feel embarrassed, eager to marry her off to a man with a pretty title who seems to have captured their daughter’s heart. The first to have achieved this.

"Mother," you whispered, pulling her aside, and out of the drawing room where you would have a bit of privacy and the men couldn’t hear. "I don't understand. He is poor, why are you encouraging this?"

"Darling," she replied in a hushed tone, her breath warm against your ear, "you have the funds, he has the need. It's your duty to marry and secure our family's future.”

“His house is in shambles, you told me yourself,” you whispered. “Aren’t you afraid he will usurp all of my resources? Have you considered he might only want to marry me because of my wealth?”

But your mother shook her head and smiled. “Listen, dear, Thomas seems to behave like a true gentleman. You could do worse. Besides,” here she paused and you waited full of anticipation to hear what argument she was going to use next, “even if he is poor, he needs an heir. And it is your duty as a woman to continue the line of our family. And quite frankly, I haven’t seen you as interested in a man in all of my life. Just take this opportunity and don’t ruin it. You’re going to be a good mom, give birth to a son to ensure a safe future for yourself and our family, and I will finally have the grandchildren I so desire."

Anger bubbled within you, hot and fierce. You wanted to marry for love, not obligation. And you decided to tell your mother as much.

“I won’t marry just to be a breeding mare,” you hissed. “If I marry it’ll be out of love. Not out of obligation.”

The creaking of the floorboards made you look up in shock to meet deep blue eyes of Thomas as he rounded the corner. How much had he heard? There was a sadness in his eyes that quickly melted into a fierce determination. Oh no, your heart raced as your mind clouded with disastrous scenarios. His face was pale - paler than before - and his eyes widened in shock.

"Thomas," you tried to reach out to him, but he stepped back, the hurt in his eyes unmistakable.

"Forgive me, Miss. Coming here was a mistake. I must take my leave," he said, his voice barely a whisper. And without another word, he left the room, leaving you standing there, heart pounding and mind racing.

“Sir Thomas!” Your mother called out, running after him as fast as her skirts would allow. You knew you’d be in trouble now.

Don’t ruin it, your mother had said, only milliseconds before you’d done just that.  

You watched Thomas go, a flurry of black coat and wounded pride. The memory of his touch, his scent, and his voice haunted you, taunting you with the promise of what could have been. But as the door closed behind him, a cold, hard truth settled in your bones. You had lost him, and it was unlikely you would ever find him again.

4.

Days had passed since your last encounter with Thomas, and the ache in your chest grew stronger. The walls of your chamber felt suffocating, so you defied your parents' wishes and ventured outside into the bustling streets. Your reappearance caused whispers to spread like wildfire; some marveled at your beauty and kindness despite your reclusive nature, while others gossiped about your unmarried status.

Returning home, cheeks flushed from the cool air, your heart sank as you found a man you had known all of your life as Uncle Al - one of your neighbors – speaking to your father in hushed tones. It was apparent he was asking for your hand in marriage.

"Please, sir," the man said, desperation lacing his voice, "I can provide for her."

"Give me away?" You scoffed, anger boiling inside you. "To him?"

The man had known you from when you were a little child and was older than you by far.  You had been shocked by the amount of men at your parents’ door recently, but to see him. The neighbor who had always been so kind to you… It was unsettling.

“You can’t be serious,” you said, uncaring if it hurt the man’s feelings. “He’s nearly as old as you!”

Your father's eyes narrowed, clearly displeased by your outburst. “Nearly as old, perhaps,” he said, voice low like a warning. “But he is a good friend of our family and he deserves a bit of happiness.”

Your neighbor stood up a little straighter, a lustful gleam in his eye as his gaze fell upon you. You felt a shiver run down your spine. No, you thought. No way you’d give him the heirs your mother so wanted. Your heart already belonged to another and you had made up your mind a little while ago.

“And a bit more respect as well, don’t you agree?” The hiss made it clear that your father was not to be argued with, and so you directed your gaze down at the ground and muttered a brief apology.

Al seemed to accept it, for a smile took possession of his lips and he turned back to your father again. “Such an endearing creature,” you heard him say, voice like silk. “Whyever have you kept her away from us for so long?”

Because of this, you thought, sadly. Your parents might have feared this. And with a start, you realized how you had set your own demise into motion. That they hadn’t as much locked you away out of shame as well as to protect you from all the unwanted gazes and proposals of men twice your age or more. They knew you hadn’t wanted to marry and had given you the space. But now, society demands them to hand you over to someone. And who better than a family friend they had known all of their lives?

“It is settled then,” you heard Al say and lifted your gaze to see him shake your father’s hand. Your father forced a smile, though you recognized by now that it did not reach his eyes.

A measurement out of necessity. A must. You thought with a shock. Unable to look at the two men any longer, you turned on your heels and ran away. Your bedroom felt safe, for now, high up in your tower, as you threw yourself upon the bed and clutched your pillows tight.

“Not him,” you breathed through tears. “Not Al.” No matter how kind your neighbor had been when you were smaller, he was old and started to grey. He wasn’t nearly as tall as Thomas and didn’t have the same voice or scent.

And there he was again. Thomas never seemed to leave your mind.

After you calmed down enough, you pushed yourself off the bed. Your chest heaved with fury as you went to stare out the window, your breath fogging the cold glass.

You weren’t looking at anything in particular when your gaze fell upon the familiar figure of Thomas across the street. You’d been occupied with your own thoughts, and it took you a few seconds before you realized that your gazes had crossed. All this time you had been searching for him. You knew he was still in the area, knew he had made visits to unsuccessfully gain sponsors to fund his work. But you’d never been able to catch sight of him. And here he was, underneath your window, staring at you from across the street with silent admiration.

How long had he been there?

Your heart leaped. Not wasting another second, you rushed down the stairs and outside, the door slamming behind you.

"Thomas!" You called, seeing how he had turned and was walking away from you. Despite the street being busy this time of the day, you followed his tall shape, running past people and making your way zigzagging through the crowd. The top hat he wore indicated where he went. “Thomas, wait!”

But he kept walking. And just when you started to get out of breath, you saw him come to a standstill. Relieved, you caught your breath and ran towards him. It was as if he waited for you, standing tall and proud, his back still turned towards you. Then he slowly turned around to face you, a sad expression marred his features. His blue eyes were full of turmoil.

"Dear girl,” he murmured, his blue eyes shimmering with unspoken emotions. "I know you must think me a monster, standing underneath your window like I have…”

You shook your head fiercely. “No, not at all,” you breathed.

“I must confess, I have been watching you more frequently these days. I tried to forget, but… I felt drawn to your window more and more, just to catch a glimpse of you,” Thomas admitted, silently. He hung his head in shame. But his blue eyes were kept firmly upon you. “My heart still beats for you."

His admission sent shivers down your spine, your desire for him growing stronger like a moth drawn to a flame.

Without hesitation, you wrapped your arms around him and pulled him into a hug. Surprise was visible on his face, but only for a moment. Then, he carefully wrapped his arms around you, holding you in an embrace.

“When I said I would not marry out of obligation, I also said I wanted to marry out of love,” you whispered, aware that Thomas could hear. “It is you I have always been waiting for. I want no other.”

Thomas pulled away from the embrace and looked deep into your eyes, searching for any hint of hesitation or doubt. He found none.

He slowly leaned in and pressed his lips against yours, his hands gently caressing your face. The kiss was soft and tender but quickly intensified. As you pulled away, the hunger in your eyes was evident. Without saying a word, you grabbed Thomas's hand, the warmth of his touch igniting a fire within you.

You led Thomas back to your home. “You must talk to my father again,” you said, still holding his hand in your own. You could feel his eyes upon you, burning with desire. “He just gave me away to another.”

“Another?” Thomas sounded as if he hardly could believe his ears, and you felt how his grip on your hand inadvertently intensified. Once he noticed his bodily reaction, he looked ashamed at your joined hands and relieved some of the pressure, holding your hand gently again.

“I said I wouldn’t, but,” you hesitated, chewing your lip pensively as the both of you stood in front of your parents’ home, glancing up at the tower that you slept in. “Since I have been going out, people have started to notice me.”

You turned to Thomas, eyes locking, and found a look of wonder in his. “A spinster,” you clarified, gently squeezing his hand. “Society has been building up pressure until my father had to relent. I need to be married for the honor of the family name.”

“Then lead me inside,” Thomas said, voice hoarse, almost as if there was a hidden second layer to his words. Inside, it purred inside your mind. Yes, that was where you wanted him. In you, around you, part of you. And so, you led him inside, determined to make your parents see reason. As you entered the parlor, their disapproving eyes bore into you.

"Father, Mother, look who I have brought home," you said, their heads turning to look at the two of you in wonder. There you stood, hand in hand with the man of your dreams. Thomas’s eyes were glinting, a tremble to his smile. Hope, that was the right word. He radiated hope.

"Thomas?" Your father sounded surprised. "The struggling inventor?"

“Sir Thomas Sharpe,” Thomas said firmly, taking you and your parents by surprise. “I might lack the funds for the comfort your daughter deserves, but I have an abundance of love for her. I asked you before and I beg you to consider me again. Annul the agreement with the other suitor to her hand. Your daughter and I are in love. And I will pledge to keep her safe and care for your daughter and our children, if we are blessed to have any, until the end of my days.”

The speech was long, heart-warming, and rendered you speechless. As you watched Thomas he seemed to transform into something else, something ethereal. A glowing creature, full of power and passion. It only confirmed the choice you had made.

Your parents stood there, silently, But you could tell by their faces that they were deep in thought.

"His heart is true, and he loves me," you insisted, gripping Thomas's hand even tighter. "Do you not wish for my happiness?"

A tense silence filled the room until your mother finally spoke, her voice barely audible. "Very well, we shall accept his proposal."

Relief washed over Thomas's face, his eyes brimming with gratitude and love. The weight of your decision hung in the air, heavy but necessary. And that night you had your first meal together. The next morning was spent walking and chatting, getting to know each other a little better.

And as the days passed by, you had no regrets.

Months later, with your dowry spent on tools and materials, you watched as Thomas began to build his machines according to a combination of your designs and his own. His hands, once soft and delicate, grew calloused as he toiled away in his workshop. You watched from the shadows, pride swelling in your chest as his dreams slowly came to life.

Life in your new home wasn't easy; the roof leaked, the walls were damp, and the cold seeped through every crack. But together, you made it work. When you discovered you were pregnant, the hardships only intensified. You were sick quite often and with no servants to tend to your needs, you had to do everything around the house yourself. You fell ill during pregnancy, running a fever that made Thomas fear for both your life as well as that of your unborn child. But you survived and got better. And despite the challenges, love kept you warm. Your shared passion was like an inferno against the bitterness of the world.

By the time your child arrived, a fragile, wailing bundle, Thomas's business had begun to flourish. You supported him unwaveringly, standing by his side as he navigated the treacherous waters of entrepreneurship.

"Thank you, my love," he murmured one night as you lay entwined beneath threadbare blankets, your child nestled between you. "Without you, none of this would be possible."

"Thank you," you whispered back, tears glistening in the moonlight. "For giving me a life worth living."

Slowly but surely, Thomas's business continued to grow, allowing you to repair your home and provide for your growing family. Life was still tough, but it was a life filled with love, laughter, and the knowledge that you had chosen the right path.

And so, with your children surrounding you, you lived out your days as a happy family, bound together by the unyielding force of love, triumphing against all odds.

~ Fin ~

AN: Liked my work? :) ♡ Support me on Ko-Fi ♡ Love you all

[muddyorbsblr]

the final Lady Sharpe part 1: across the threshold

Series Masterlist See my full list of works here!

Part of the 500 Follower Celebration Requested by: @ellooo0ooo

Summary: To say your first day in Allerdale Hall with your new husband Sir Thomas Sharpe was "eventful" would be a gross understatement. Downright absurd would be a better descriptor.

Pairing: Thomas Sharpe x Reader

Warnings: ghosts; Lucille; murder attempt via poisoning; mentions of the "relationship" between Lucille & Thomas; steamy moment between the newlyweds

Things to be aware of: Reader & Thomas are newlyweds

"Save yourself."

You stiffened in Thomas' arms as the soft spoken tone reached your ears, eyeing your new husband with rapidly increasing worry. "Did you hear that?" 

His eyes held a touch of concern, the smile he gave you -- while breathtaking as it always was -- not quite reaching his eyes as he gave you words of reassurance. "Must simply be the wind, darling. At times it blows so harshly through the piping of the house that it feels as if the halls themselves are whispering to you. It's ghastly, I know, but it's home." 

The words sounded perfectly crafted, as if practiced and corrected many times before, doing nothing to ease the tension that had spread throughout your body as he carried you across the threshold. You made a show of giving him a reassured smile, consciously widening your eyes in an attempt to convince him that you doubted no portion of his answer. "Just the wind," you said softly when he set you back down on your feet. 

"Just the wind," he echoed, placing his hat down on a nearby table before framing your face in large gloved hands and touching the tip of his cold nose to your own, the chill making you break out into a fit of giggles. "There's that sound I absolutely adore from you, my dear wife." Your giggles melded into a weakened sigh once he leaned in closer and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. 

"Ah. There you are," a stern voice spoke from the other side of the floor, the sound bouncing off the walls as footsteps struck against tile then hardwood, the figure of Lucille Sharpe, your new sister-in-law, striding towards you. "You're finally home." 

"Lucille," your husband breathed out, walking towards her and meeting his sister halfway and pulling her into a tight embrace. 

Something in the sight immediately put you off, as if you sensed an intimacy between them that crossed the lines of familial love. Namely the way that she wrapped long fingers around his upper arm and leaned against his shoulder with her eyes closed, as if she was pressing a kiss on the spot. 

"Welcome, Y/N," she finally spoke to you. "How have you been faring with the cold thus far?" 

"Quite different from what I'm accustomed to but I can get used to just about anything," you answered her with a warm smile, subtly tilting your head at how she'd shaped her fingers like claws and dug the tips into Thomas' arm before releasing him from her hold. 

"You're not imagining it. She abuses him. Makes him sleep with her," the same voice from earlier spoke. "Every night. He won't be laying with you later."

"Well you cannot possibly have adjusted so quickly. Why don't I fix us all some tea and, Thomas you can draw your bride a bath and start a fire? Give her a semblance of home to help her adjust a touch quicker?" The words seemed welcoming enough; her smile, however, made you wish to go back out into the biting winter cold instead. You might fare better against nature than against Lucille. 

"Truly, Lucille? Tea this early? We'd just gotten home, we've not had the chance to even begin to unpack our belongings." You began to eye your husband with the same suspicion now, narrowing your eyes at his question that seemed as if they were speaking of more than just 'tea'.

"It will help warm her up," she insisted. "All of us, really."

His sharp exhale filled the room, his arm reaching out towards you when you began to walk further into the house and wrapping around your shoulders. "Very well then." His tone towards her had grown more formal, dismissive even. "Shall I show you to our room, Lady Sharpe?" He gave you a warm smile, this time the kind that reached his eyes as you nodded your assent. 

A mixture of your giggles and his filled the house as he scooped you up into his arms once more and carried you up the stairs. 

You tried to suppress your blush as you were treated to the view of your husband busying himself in your bedroom, insisting you 'sit back and not worry a single hair on that pretty head' while he prepped the fireplace. Of course, who were you to refuse a comfortable room with a view, especially when said view came in the form of Thomas Sharpe, coats shrugged off and sleeves rolled up to his elbows starting a fire to keep you warm?

The orange light of the kindling fire began to wash over the room, already making you feel as if you could breathe easier as your husband gave you an adorably triumphant smile. "Oh my word," he breathed out, rising to his feet and slowly making his way to you. 

"What is it?" A warmth bloomed inside you, his fingertips lightly tracing your features with one hand while the other began to undo the bun in your hair. If only that warmth wasn't accompanied by the pit forming in your stomach as you remembered what that voice whispered in your ear downstairs. 

"You are breathtaking in this light, darling." He ran his fingers through your hair, touching your chin with his free hand and tilting your head upward as he leaned down to press his lips to yours. The feel of him groaning against your skin sent your heart into a frenzy and your stomach fluttering like a dozen butterflies had just taken residence inside.

Every touch of your lips seemed more frantic than the last, feeling yourself getting more and more lost in him. Almost to the point that you forgot where you were. In a gloomy creepy near-derelict mansion that was potentially filled with ghosts that were talking to you confirming your intuition about Lucille and your husband having a debauched relationship in a secret held within the decaying walls. And so far away from the city where if you were to meet an untimely demise it would take days, maybe even weeks, before anyone at home was informed of your passing.

All of that seemed to fade away while you stayed in his arms. 

"What if I drew us both a bath?" he murmured against your lips, giving you one more lingering kiss before pulling away, his expression darkened with such explicit lust that it had you struggling to breathe. 

"How scandalous," you teased, your breath  hitching in the back of your throat when you felt his fingers playing with the buttons securing the collar of your dress behind your neck. 

The corner of his mouth upturned in a smirk once he worked the buttons undone and his fingertips met the skin of your  neck, a whimper slipping from your lips as he slipped the piece of fabric off of you. "My darling, we are husband and wife." You bit your lips to muffle a moan when he leaned in to press a kiss to the newly exposed skin. "There is nothingscandalous about us sharing a bath, if you're willing." 

He continued to press kiss after kiss along the column of your neck, and you suddenly felt a heat spreading throughout your body that had nothing to do with the fire steadily crackling on a few feet away from you. "Well in that case, dear husband, I think that's a wonderful--"

The sharp sound of knuckles rapping on the door broke the heady spell you were under, both of you  suddenly standing upright, Thomas' arm now wrapped around you with his hand splayed on the side of your waist as he pulled you to his side. "Is everyone decent?" you heard Lucille's voice clear and piercing through the door.

"Decent enough," your husband called out, chuckling as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. 

"Thomas what on Earth could you possibly mean by--Oh…" The look on her face may as well have dropped to the ground when her eyes befell the sight before her. Your now exposed neck, hair flowing down your back, Thomas' own overcoat and waistcoat draped haphazardly over the tall armchair, shirt wrinkled from where your hands clutched at him from moments earlier, the first few buttons undone and exposing his defined chest. "Seems I interrupted a private moment." 

"Oh it's no trouble really--" you started just as Thomas said, "Yes, you did." 

You did what you could to stifle your smile, giving way to him continuing his sentiment instead. "I was just about to draw a bath for my wife. And myself." Once more you fought to keep your expression unchanged as her neck so visibly twitched at the lurid implications of his words. 

The voice from earlier was back. But she wasn't talking to you, rather she was talking to…another voice. You could barely make out names in the conversation. Edith. Enola. Talking about how Thomas was different with you, how he seemed to be protecting you almost. 

"I'm sure the bath can wait, dear husband," you said, plastering on a warm smile you strived to reach your eyes. 

"But I'm not quite sure that I can," he shot back with a chuckle, pulling you closer to him. 

"Come on, sweetheart, Lucille made us tea. It'd be a shame for it to go cold." You looked to him with wide eyes, seeing how his jaw clenched for a moment before he briefly narrowed his eyes at his sister. And she was looking to you with a conspiratorial smirk, as if she felt the satisfaction of finding in you some ally. But you knew that look for what it really was; you'd seen it enough times throughout your ventures in London.

It was the look of an assumed mastermind pleased to see that a pawn was carrying out a leg of a plan on their own volition. And thus playing into their own trap. Run, little mouse, run, her eyes seemed to say. Right into my snare. 

"You have your sensibilities about you, Y/N. I like you already." 

"I've been around London enough times to know how you get with your tea," you joked, your cheeks aching from the smile you were trying to keep up. It seemed worth the dull ache, though, with the single nod she gave you as she poured out the hot beverage in two of the cups on the tray. The third one, however, had already been filled. And that was the cup she held out to you.

"I wasn't sure how you preferred it, so I took a guess on somewhere between lukewarm and fresh off the kettle. I hope it is to your liking, my new sister." 

"You're very kind, Lucille. Thank you." You brought the cup up to your nose, taking in the aroma. "This…smells quite different from the teas I've had in London. What is it?" 

"Firethorn berries," your husband answered. "Lucille picks them out in the garden and crushes them herself." 

So cyanide, you thought to yourself, wondering if Thomas' omission of whether the crushed berries had been washed was intentional or simply an oversight on his part. They're trying to kill me. 

You could feel your heart sinking from the realization that you'd married in such a rush and now you were to face the consequences. Your rational mind screaming obscenities at you for being so foolish to fall for the words of an angelic face and a devilish voice, and another voice trying to scream louder that you had to think of something quick lest one of them shove the drink down your throat and start the poisonous process.

"Don't drink it! The poison is in the tea!" one of the voices screamed.

"She has to. Lucille will kill her if she doesn't," the first voice, the guiding voice, answered her. 

You took a breath, mustering all your confidence as you hoped that the wayward idea that flew through your mind in the last few moments would work convincingly enough. Raising the cup to your lips, the moderately hot liquid slipped past your lips, and you let it stay there a second before breaking out into a fit of coughs and spitting out majority of the drink, blindly looking for a place to set down the cup and doubling over and arching your back with each cough. 

"Y/N!" The cup was taken out of your hand, Thomas pulling you close to him, moving your hair out of your face and running his hand up and down your back, trying to calm the fit. "Darling what happened?"

"I'm not quite sure," you answered through heaving breaths, both of you having sunk to the floor on your knees in the midst of your show. You fought against your instinct to stiffen in his hold as he pulled you to him, cradling you against his chest. "I suppose it was foolish of me to think firethorn berries was an exception to my allergies."

"Allergies?!" Lucille snapped. "Thomas, you never mentioned anything about your new wife's allergies when you wrote to me about her."

"It's my fault," you answered her. "Honestly it was such a whirlwind romance and the wedding happened so fast there was so much we didn't get to know about each other." You gave a regretful look to your husband. "I'm sorry."

He gave you this sorrowful look, complete with teary eyes, furrowed upturned brows, and quivering lip, before pulling you closer again and resting your head on his shoulder. "This isn't your fault, darling. None of this is your fault. I'm just glad you're alright." You kept at it with your heaving breaths, gradually easing yourself back to a regular rhythm. "How about I fix us something to eat after we freshen up?" 

You gave him a weak nod, inwardly hissing that you'd rather starve than let them have another attempt at your life like that. Letting out a few more weak coughs and making sure to cover your mouth lest Lucille or Thomas know what an allergic reaction ideally looked like and realize that you'd been putting on a show, you turned your gaze to Lucille. "I'm so sorry you went through all this trouble--"

"It's no trouble at all, dear sister," she cut you off, the icy rage poorly veiled in her eyes despite the smile she was clearly straining to give you. "As Thomas said, what matters is that you're alright." Her eyes flickered to her brother one last time before she turned and left your bedroom, shutting the door behind her.

"Let me go get you some water, darling." Thomas held your hands as you both stood, holding you close to him again when you were both up on your feet. "I could have sworn I felt my heart drop to the ground when you seemed about to hack out your lung from those heaves." 

He'd led you to the ensuite and turned on the tap. Once the water began to run you straightened your stance and stepped out of his hold, your coughs suddenly -- suspiciously -- a thing of the past. "It's so sweet of you to be so concerned, Thomas." The furrow between his brows deepened, the water overflowing from the glass and onto his hand. "Now tell me. Whose idea was it to poison me, dear husband?" You sneered the words now, as if they themselves were poison to even utter. "Was it yours? Or your sister's?" 

A/N: Welcome to…the series that I didn't actually intend to be a series 😅 When I was planning out this request I only intended for it to be 3 parts, and then I started writing it 2 days ago I realized that I'd be cramming way too much into one part if I wrote it the way I first planned, so it became 4 parts…and then 5…and now it's 8.

But I honestly look forward to diving into this story and sharing it with you all, and I just hope y'all like it, too 💖💛

‘everything’ taglist: @sailorholly @loopsisloops @unlucky-number-13 @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @sarahscribbles @kats72 @kikster606 @evelyn-kingsley @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @peaches1958 @lovingchoices14 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th @lovelysizzlingbluebird @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @dangertoozmanykids101 @elizabethmidnight2017 @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina

[asgards-princess-of-mischief]

Last Updated: 2024-03-05

Disclaimer: I am not the author of these stories, just sharing my favourite Sir Thomas Sharpe stories. Find the authors' links below. If you want your work removed, message me privately.

Legend: 〔E〕 ⇢ Erotic/Steamy | 〔F〕 ⇢ Fluff | 〔A〕 ⇢ Angst/Hurt 〔M〕 ⇢ Minor Angst/Hurt | 〔C〕 ⇢ Comfort | ♥︎ ⇢ Established Relationship | 𑁍 ⇢ Pregnancy/Children | 🚫 ⇢ Content Warning

✑ Wedded￨Prt. II￨Prt. III by yespolkadotkitty • 18+ • ��E᜶F〕 •

Summary: You and Thomas spend your wedding night exploring each other in every way possible.

✑ Child Named Sharpe, the by smolvenger • 〔F᜶A〕 • ♥︎ • 𑁍 •

Summary: "You and Thomas Sharpe welcome your first baby and his second, as Thomas himself faces his own demons regarding his past."

✑ Corsets and Courtship by babybluebex • 18+ • 〔E᜶A〕 •

Summary: "Your father's business partner comes to your home in hopes of discussing the future, and you both get more than you bargained for."

✑ Fill You by just-the-hiddles • 18+ • 〔E〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary:  "Now that you and Thomas have married, he is determined to have you with child come hell or high water."

✑ It's Something Special by lady-rose-moon • 18+ • 〔E〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: "Even though you had been married to the Baronet for three months now, you hadn't been touched by him. Until today..."

✑ My Sweet Baronet by lady-rose-moon • 18+ • 〔E᜶A〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: "Being married to Sir Thomas Sharpe had some... inconvenient setbacks but you are sure to worth through them with your husband."

✑ Ocean Eyes by andsheloved • 〔C〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: "When your own mind seems shattered, you're reminded of who will always be there to pick up the pieces."

✑ Please Forgive Me by just-the-hiddles • 18+ • 〔F᜶A〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: "After nearly being killed by Lucille and discovering Thomas'... role in the whole affair, the two of you [move] to Paris [for] a fresh start... unsure if you [can] forgive [him]..., you agree to attend the Paris Exposition with Thomas [to begin] moving forward."

✑ Secret Affair by sserpente • 〔E᜶F〕 •

Summary: "Imagine [Sir Thomas Sharpe falling in love with you, a maid]. He invites you to live at Allerdale Hall, to serve him and his sister Lucille... All you have to do is keep the affair a secret from her."

✑ To Escape by lady-rose-moon • 〔F᜶A〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: "After [discovering] the dark truth about Allerdale Hall, you confront Thomas. [Over] time, you [and your husband plan your escape]."

✑ A Definite Answer by laufeyamp • 〔F〕 •

✑ A Favour by just-the-hiddles • 18+ • 〔F〕 •

✑ Are You Sure? by tomhiddleston-is-mischief • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ • 𑁍 •

✑ Buried by colorsunimaginable • 〔A〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ Desperate by lady-rose-moon • 18+ • 〔E〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ Family by ladyfluff • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ • 𑁍 •

✑ His Happiness by ladyfluff • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ Indulge Me by ladyfluff • 〔F〕 •

✑ Kiss Me by ladyfluff • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ Memories by tomhiddleston-is-mischief • 〔F᜶A〕 •

✑ No. by ladyfluff • 〔A〕 • ♥︎ • 𑁍 •

✑ Not Stopoing by just-the-hiddles • 18+ • 〔E〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ Reading While He Works by foxgloveprincess • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ Reading with Sir Sharpe by wanna-rock-n-roll-in80s • 18+ • 〔E〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ Trapped by ladyfluff • 〔A〕 •

✑ Straight Through the Heart by the--blackdahlia • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ Sweet Tooth by ladyfluff • 〔F〕 •

✑ Within the Strongbox of My Heart by frostbitten-written • 〔A〕 • ♡ •

See Also: Navigation || Thomas Sharpe Master Index

Authors: @andsheloved || @babybluebex || @colorsunimaginable || @foxgloveprincess || @frostbitten-written || @just-the-hiddles || @lady-rose-moon || @ladyfluff || @laufeyamp || @smolvenger || @sserpente || @the--blackdahlia || @tomhiddleston-is-mischief || @wanna-rock-n-roll-in80s || @yespolkadotkitty ||

[emmaiooo]

realization.

ayato ignored you after you got married to him out of love. so when he comes up to you with a package, things get out of hand.

(Not proofread 😭😭)

Part 2 !!

Ayato never paid attention to you. He wouldn't look you in the eye, he wouldn't even try to spark a conversation when you sat together for dinner. Dinner with ayato is very rare, he is so busy that he can't even stop and chat with anyone. Working himself until he fainted on that desk. so, you, his wife he used to cherish so dearly, got ignored. But that doesn't bother you right? You got Ayaka and thoma to spend time with you so you shouldn't feel lonely at all! But you can't help but feel a little bit lonely whenever you spend time with Ayaka and thoma.

For the first time in forever, he came up to you. “dear, can you please deliver something for me?” he said. oh so it’s just some delivery. “Sure ayato.” you took the package and looked at the tag. It was for lumine. The word lumine wrote on the tag made your stomach turn upside down. Was he seeing someone else behind your back? Is that why he had no time for you?

But you still went to deliver the package when you would have thrown it in the lake and confronted ayato.

“Hm there seems to be no address on this tag.” you looked bringing it up. “Hey, pretty lady.” you heard someone behind you. You turn around quickly alarmed. The fatui agent chuckled, “why don't you show me what's in the package?” he said, bringing his hands toward you. “Stay away,” you said, bringing your package close to your chest. Why are you refusing? This is a good chance to throw away the package once and for all! Why are you still protecting it? “Give it to me, woman. I don't have all day,” he said, taking out his weapon. “No! Leave me alone!” you tried to run away, but the agent was much faster. “Give it to me!” he said, pushing you down. “Ah!” you fell to the ground, “i will never give you this package!” Why are you protecting this package? Why? “Don’t make me force you!” he yelled.

It has been an hour, and you never let go of the package. You got beaten up badly, and the agent is still going. “Why aren’t you giving up?” he said, in frustration. “HEY. WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO HER.” a familiar woman yelled. It was lumine. “Crap.” the fatui agent gave you one last beating and you accidentally let go of the package for lumine. “h-HEY!” you tried to yell out but a sharp pain hit you. “Hey are you ok?” lumine asked, looking concerned. “T-that package was for you-he got away-” you started to lose your conscience, blacking out before you got back up. “H-hey!” lumine said, trying to shake you. “Paimon thinks you should take y/n back to the kamisato estate!” paimon said as lumine hunched you over behind her back. “Yea we gotta get her treated immediately, look at her! She's full of wounds.” Paimon nodded in agreement.

You woke up to see Ayato's face, clearly angry. “A-ayato?” you looked at him, wondering why he looks so mad. “ugh, what the hell y/n! I trusted you with one package. ONE. and you still managed to lose it to some low fatui agent! And look at you, all beaten up. This could've been avoided if you paid attention to your surroundings!” he said, looking more angry. Why is he so angry? It's just a package..right? “Brother-you shouldn’t be too harsh with y/n, she just recovered. “But that package had our plans to invade the fatui site! She completely threw it into jeopardy! She messed up all our plans and revealed it to the fatui!” he argued back to his sister. So that's what it was about. The reason why he was so mad. “I-i'm sorry- '' you said struggling to find your words. “You’re not. Stop acting pitiful when it is all your fault. You caused this.” he spit out. He exited out the door.

you started sobbing and letting everything out. You just couldn’t stop. He put all the blame on you. He knew you were visionless and powerless but still gave you this extremely important package. “Hey y/n, are you ok?” Ayaka rubbed your back as you let it all out. “The lord didn't mean it, please don't take it too seriously.” thoma tried to comfort you. “I'm so done with this, i'm so sick of all of this. It's so pressuring and upsetting. I just want to spend time with my husband. I don't even know why I married him!” you said crying. “y/n..don’t say that.” Ayaka said, shocked by your words. “No ayaka, I need to say this. I’m going to file for divorce. I’m done with this life, I won't cause any misfortune anymore to the kamisato clan.” you sobbed, trying to control your tears only to be met with more.

Little do you know, ayato was right out of the door, shocked by what you said. He was silent. He didn't know what to say. He just left you and ignored you when you needed him the most. He walked back to his room in silence.

The next day, he sees the maids cleaning up and packing up your room. He regularly sees lawyers coming into your half empty room and talking to you about the divorce. “Are you sure my lady? After this divorce you will be nothing but a commoner!” the lawyer said. “It's ok...I would rather be nothing than live this life.” you said sadly. You planned to live in Mondstadt, the city of freedom. You’ve got beidou already preparing the ship for your departure.

Day by day, he sees your room become more empty. Ayato was later presented with the divorce papers. He reluctantly signed, seeing your pained expression, looking at him, begging to be set free from his grip. When he signed, he saw your face in relief. But he could never tell you how much pain this divorce will bring him.

When you walked out of the kamisato estate, he realized everything he’d done wrong. He neglected you, said hurtful words to you, and put the blame on you. He realized it was his fault for the package, knowing that you were visionless and couldn’t defend yourself, he still gave you this important package. Putting you in danger and the whole plan too. He felt regret, he could’ve treated you so much better. At least giving some presents to remind you that he still cares. He even forgot about your birthday and missed it. Everything came to him in a flash. He tried to run after you, trying to find you everywhere. He came to his last realization. He was too late to save the relationship between you and him. You were already on your way to Mondstadt, talking with your new found friend, kazuha.

end.

[loving-family-poll]

Ultimate Incest Tournament - Round 2

Propaganda under the cut:

Lucille/Thomas:

i'm So insane about their dynamic how about you take a dyke in victorian england unable to come to terms with her own sexuality and forced by the negligence and abuse of her family to protect her baby brother at all costs and she falls in love with him. and him with her. and they spend their time scheming and fucking in their crumbling house like the gothic icons they are. i would let them wife me up. are you kidding.

IT'S A MONSTROUS LOVE AND IT MAKES MONSTERS OF US ALL

"You're not his sister." "That's the best part! I am."

Antonio/Ignacio:

I mean its THE gay incest novel🙏gay incestual brothers where the incest is a symbol of anarchism in the face of fascist oppression. Ignacio is ALSO weird about his mother and father, so bonus points. They also get married!

Every moment of that book is about crazy, hot, heretical, subversive, taboo brother-lovin. ignacio and antonio are brothers and lovers and married and anarchists and dirty reds and everything to me

"Mon freramour."

"Slowly my brother’s face split into a smile like a burst of sunlight—a sun that would warm me for many long years, until the day of our last farewell, when the cold that has now dried out my soul suddenly gripped me."

"Whether you come as a lover or an executioner, I am ready to receive you. More ready than ever. With all the obligations that waiting for you imposes on me. But don’t come as a brother, to profane me in the family blasphemy; if you do, my waiting for you will assert its rights."

"Listen to me, wise guy. The whole world can rot in shit before I drop you. Understand?"

"At night, my body felt so cut off from my brother’s I was sure it would stop working."

"The family sickness: Born dead."

"Do you take your younger brother in marriage?"

[marzipanandminutiae]

I just think Sir Thomas Sharpe, Brt. fucks his emotionally abusive sister nasty every day and enjoys it, and only gives Une Damn about murder victims if he happens to fall in love with them, and knows how to charm people- including large swaths of the movie's audience; love some fourth-wall-breaking -into thinking him a blameless innocent

and that's so meow meow of him

[bruciemilf]

i just want u to know that the thomas and martha lore with them fighting joe chill is everything to me. so is like everything else u post. brainrot is so fun i love it

After watching some old movies, I really want Bruce to interact with Martha's family more. The Kanes in my mind are stern, cut-throat, and ruthless in a very graceful way.

Phillip Kane (played by Charles Dance) is like that one relative from vintage Hollywood films that you have to deep clean the whole house for when they visit.

Bruce cleans it, thought. Alfred couldn't give two fucks. The poor boy is stressed though, " Yes, it's not you he scolds for a single grain of dust on the furniture."

"Self preservation is an acquired skill, sir."

Dick's never seen Bruce like that. Frantic, moving from one place to another, energised by sheer stress. He also doesn't understand what's with all these rules! "But I wanna show Tim how to play on the chandelier!"

"Not this week, darlings, please," Bruce is constantly on high alert, "Uncle Philip doesn't,--"

"Doesn't forgive lack of manners."

Philip Kane marches through the manor, sharp as ever in his military suit, bedazzled in shiny medals. He's aged both roughly and like wine, blessed with the ability to own the whole air. " And in my day, we obeyed our parents without question."

Alfred merely steps in front of Dick, Tim, and Jason, "In your day we discovered fire. Mr. Kane. Forgive us for not being interested in outdated customs."

"Alfred. Transparent as always, I see. The bald spots are new."

" The stress of unwanted guests. What's your excuse?"

Philip scoffs, merely raising an eyebrow, but somewhere under that grey titan there's a glimpse of amusement. Bruce thinks he can breathe freely, for a second, but his uncle drags a white gloved finger on the piano.

It's slightly gray, and he's rendered with a classic look of disapproval. "I take it your education isn't the only thing you've abandoned?"

"I-I tried, Uncle Philip, but,--"

"Try? You either fail, or you don't." Bruce's faces collapses with shame and Philip sighs, as if he's seen all this before,

" Just like your father. I've told my sister this is what happens with Wayne men. They always pick the easy way. What a waste of greatness."

Bruce's mouth burns with defenses for his father. It's no secret Philip never approved of Thomas. He made it abundantly clear when he didn't attend the wedding or funeral.

Right when Alfred is about to say something, Dick charges forward, little fists striking Philip's knees, '' Don't you talk about my Tati that way! He's strong, and brave, and gives great kisses!"

Little of course joins his big brother, " Meanie!"

"You'll sleep in the attic if you're not nice! That's where I put Tim when B isn't home!"

Bruce is overwhelmed with the love his children have for him. He gathers them up in his arms and gives them each a storm of kisses. Philip hums, examining the scene.

" ...Acceptable. We'll have to improve on those punches. Pennyworth, do your job for once and fetch my bags."

" Oh, fetch them yourself, you bloody cunt."

"Hn."

[anxiousstark]

THE BANISHED KING | EDDIE MUNSON

Bastard King! Eddie x Princess!Reader

Word Count: 14K (worth it, I think).

Warnings: Mentions of sexism, homophobic comments/ideology, abuse from a parental figure, mentions of sexual abuse (not explicit and not regarding Eddie or the Reader), dirty talk, mention of objects being inserted in v, masturbation (mutual or solo), unprotected sex (this is a fic, be safe), blowj!ob, cum play, caught having s€x, breed!ng kink, filthy, public sex, Eddie is teasing and a kinky b!tch. This is filthy. DNI NEEDED. THOSE YOUNGER THAN 18, LEAVE!

Didn't finish proofreading it. I was exhausted.

A/N: Hi there, it's finally here! Enjoy it and please reblog or like if you enjoyed it. It means a lot to all of us who write here.

All Rights Reserved. The author, me, does not allow any type of copy or adaption.

BIG MASTERLIST

Words you must know for the fic:

Setsunai: something once bright, now faded. It is the painful twinge at the edge of a memory, the joy in the knowledge that everything is temporary.

"We made a pledge." Thomas' voice rang out, sharp and unconcerned. He appeared too calm for how fast your heart was racing at the time. How dare he make such promises?

"With all due respect," your father's piercing eyes shot in your direction, causing you to shudder as you strove not to meet his powerful gaze. "I did not promise such a thing." Your brother scoffed, appearing irritated by your remark.

You both used to be pretty close as children, but the power that had infiltrated his body as a result of your father reminding him that he would one day be king had utterly transformed him. Thomas was no longer the lovely young boy who used to defend his younger sister with all his might.

"They saved me." One of his responsibilities as a future King was to visit other places and assess the reality of how his people lived. However, you had learned a long time ago that they never did anything about the appalling conditions under which your people were forced to live.

During one of these trips, some anti-Crown individuals decided to assault him and his personnel, putting everyone's lives in peril and nearly murdering your brother if it hadn't been for King Fareq and King Munson. Your brother had pledged to thank them for saving his life by giving them a gift.

One of the most precious assets in your kingdom was one of the presents he offered. A chest that had belonged to your family for centuries and had remained untouched in the palace, guarded by hundreds of guards. You thought the chest would be fantastic to sell and utilise the proceeds to benefit your people. Elders and children were both dying before their time. It was a frightening situation. A situation that their King should have resolved long ago.

The other gift? Your brother had offered your hand in marriage.

You could marry King Fareq, a 63-year-old nobleman known for being involved in highly dark business. A man who was uninvolved with his Kingdom. A self-centred individual.

Aside from that, King Fareq was well-known for his 'adoration' for women. He'd been married seven times, and each of them had vanished without a trace. Nothing further was ever known about those women.

Then, King Munson, your second choice. There was so little known about him. Yet, you had heard so many different descriptions of him, making it impossible for you to imagine what he looked like.

It was unbelievable how many individuals feared him while not knowing anything about his character, whereas they feared fewer others whose dark secrets were always visible. It astonished you how much stronger the fear of the unknown was.

"They saved my life. We must be thankful and provide something of significant worth." When did you start being something rather than someone?

"You said it, brother." You didn't say anything else till you took a big breath, trying to stop your body from quivering. "It was your life that was saved, not mine."

He sneered once again, something he seemed to do quite a lot. "What exactly are you implying?" He sneered.

"They saved your life; marry them if you wish to repay them." Your mother exclaimed, bringing her hand to her chest. She despised every time you responded, fearful that your father's wrath would fall on you.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me." As he stood from his brown throne and marched towards you, your father's fury became too much to bear. "What did you say?" You had to look up. He'd always been a giant. Tall and broad. He became one of your worst nightmares  — particularly when he was enraged, which was most of the time.

Your first mistake was to glance to the side to escape his gaze, knowing how much he loathed not being looked at while being spoken to. But you had to peek in the direction of your mother to see her reaction, hoping that your brain and mouth would agree to remain silent.

They didn't, though.

Your eyes followed your head movement, eventually settling on the man standing too close to your face. "My life has not been threatened, and no one has come to my aid." How did your mum end up marrying such a man? He wasn't a decent one, and he wasn't handsome. His arched nose and dull dark eyes were both acute. His long brown beard nearly covered his entire face, making him even more frightening. Your mother was not at all like that. He was a beast, and she was soft and kind. "I'm not sure why I have to endure the repercussions of his conduct."

It occurred suddenly.

His palm struck your cheek, forcing your head to the side where your mother stood, breathless and unable to go to you. If she did, she'd suffer the same fate as you. "You will do as I say." He exploded. "You will also obey your future King." You blinked hastily, clenching your jaw, regretting your previous action as your cheek and mouth ached much more. "We fulfil our pledges."

"Where are the clean water and supplies that you promised your people?" You stood firm, staring at him, challenging his might. But, before he could strike you again, your mother screamed out his name.

She'd pay for it later.

"You're going to marry." Your fists clenched the skirts of your dress as you peered about, looking for a way out. So vain. No one has ever fled this prison, especially not you. "My son." Thomas sprang up, terrifyingly staring at your father. It made you want to laugh. He pretended to be powerful, but he was just as frail as your mother and you. Gerald Y/L/N was dreaded by everybody. "We shall inform King Fareq that he has a new wife. King Munson should be aware that a magnificent treasure is on its way to him."

"No." Once again, heads turned to you. Your mother begged with her face. You exhaled a sigh. "King Fareq gets the riches." You took a step forward, ignoring them as you approached one of the tall white doors, which opened for you as soon as you were near enough. "I'm marrying King Munson."

"It is preferable that you marry King Fareq. He is one of our loyalists and-." Your brother appeared to be anxious. "King Munson was kicked out of the Kings assembly. We do not make judgments based on his Kingdom. He is impractical. He is a-."

"A bastard?" You aided him.

Edward Munson Jr. ascended to the throne after his father murdered every single person in a nearby realm. He was perhaps the most dreaded man in the world. A position presently inhabited by your father.

Of course, when the previous King was assassinated for his crimes, only two individuals were granted access to the throne. The next one would have been Wayne, the King's brother. But he had done everything he could to avoid being in that predicament. He did everything he could to ensure that his nephew became King, knowing that his brother would be writhing in hell, driven by the wrath of watching his bastard son, whom he despised, govern.

"I'm marrying King Munson…The Banished."

As you stood in front of the castle, your jaw dropped open. It was a dark gothic fortress with towers that seemed to pierce the sky. Since the sky was grey, it appeared much more ominous and even eerie.

"Don't those look like bats?" A voice spoke alongside you. You nodded in response, not daring to turn away from the piece of architecture that had piqued your interest. "Gosh." Following your father and sibling into the castle, your mother shrieked. "Y/N!" You turned your gaze her way, recognising her distress. What you were most afraid of was not marrying King Munson but leaving your mother alone.

"King Munson will arrive shortly." You were still perplexed by the youngster guiding you into a massive and spacious room with a black medieval table in the centre covered with dinnerware. "Would you please have a seat?" Said youngster made a motion with his hand, directing you to the table. As usual, you attempted to sit near your mother. Yet, the boy, whose name you had discovered was Dustin, halted you. "King Munson wishes his future wife to sit by him. "

As your father growled, you had trouble swallowing. "Since when did a King seat beside his wife?" He attempted to occupy the seat next to the throne but was again stopped.

"My King certainly does." He looked to have a lot of courage for such a young child, speaking openly. "Please, allow me." He approached you, extending his arm for you to hold and escorting you to the chair just next to the throne.

Your father growled once more and slapped your mother's hand when she had attempted to calm him down. You were about to say something until you were startled by a horn. "King Munson has arrived!" A young girl declared. Because her hair was so short, you initially mistook her for a boy. Why were there so many children here? You'd also observed the redhead female dressed in what appeared to be an antique knight's armour.

Your mother gently patted your leg, urging you to rise and greet the King. You did it swiftly, your chest heaving with anxiety. "My King," Dustin said quietly, not looking your way. "Is a genuine King." You just disregarded his comments, returning your gaze to the entrance through which you had entered.

Gradually, a figure entered and it wasn't until he took a few steps that the darkness stopped swallowing him. He was clothed entirely in black, from head to toe, and was wrapped in thick, warm clothing. Your gaze travelled up quickly, but you were distracted by the bat resting on his shoulder. Except for you, everyone in your family gasped.

Then your gaze wandered over his face. His skin was fair. His eyes were dark and round, which appeared to defy each other. His nose was pretty, as were his full lips. A shadow adorned his jaw, indicating that he had most likely not shaven. Most notably, he had luscious chocolate brown hair. Curly and long…never seen on a King before.

"I've been expecting you." As he got closer, you realized his eyes weren't as dark. They appeared to have golden specks. "To be honest, I was quite thrilled to meet you." Your father took a step forward, ready to be presented. To your astonishment, King Munson was speaking to you, not him. He towered over you slightly, but his piercing look made you feel much shorter than him. For his eyes never left yours. "I've always longed to see your Kingdom's two outstanding beauties." He addressed you, but at the latter, his eyes shifted to your mother as he offered a smile and a light bow. "It gives me great joy to meet you, Princess." You shivered, mouth gaping as a breath left your body.

"Likewise, my King." One of his warm and rough hands took yours, bringing it to his lips, depositing a kiss on the back.

"New Kings must not be aware of the regulations." Your father spoke out, averting his gaze. "It is of crucial courtesy to address the King of another Kingdom first, followed by those who accompany him."

You flinched, and King Munson noticed, not pleased with your reaction. "If you honour your pledge, she will be the one sharing this castle, her life, and my bed." Your skin burned. "I do not really understand how addressing someone else when she is present is more important."

"It is significant because I am the King." Your brother attempted but failed to silence him. "As her father, it also is." Edward assisted you in sitting down by holding the chair for you and pushing it closer to the table. He then sat on his throne.

"As a man of my word, I am allowing you to marry my daughter in compensation for saving the man who will replace me on the throne when I die. This does not imply that I like you, King Munson." Your father eventually sat down. "I am not thrilled that my daughter will be sucking a bastard's dick." You exclaimed, your eyes wide with surprise.

"If she pleases," you were taken aback when the King spoke up, unfazed by your father's comments. "She'll be doing more than just a little sucking." He had stated it with such a solemn expression. "Plus, if she is to be my Queen. She does not follow your rules, but rather her own."

"She is not yours yet." Your brother spoke out, but he appeared to be afraid as King Munson glared at him.

"You would be rather ungrateful if you went back on your promises and did not provide me what you had promised me." He stated. "You would not only be untrustworthy but also a man who does not keep his promise." Eddie motioned for Dustin to cease serving him alcohol. "If you are concerned about your lovely sister marrying the banished King…" He paused in his speech to take a sip of his wine. "Then you should not have offered her hand so hastily as if you were trying to get rid of her." Your gaze had been resting on your lap, but as soon as you heard his words, you shifted it to him. He extended his cup when he noticed your staring.

You shook your head. "That is not acceptable to me, my King."

"How come, my Princess?" The pet name came out in a deep tone that caused you to shudder. You cast a peek at your father. "You are free to communicate with me, Princess Y/N. There is no need to get authorisation." He cleared his throat. "Your word is as important as mine from now on. That is how it is in my Kingdom. Do you understand?" His gaze never left yours as if you were the finest thing to look at.

In answer, you nodded your head. "We, women, must abstain from drinking since we risk doing dumb things that will tarnish our reputation." You'd grown up hearing those words. Words told to your mum by your father and later transmitted to you. "That's what we were taught, King Edward."

"Call me Eddie." He scoffed, shaking his head and casting a peek at your father. "She just said something ridiculous."

"My Kingdom, my rules, King Eddie."

"Do not address me as such. Except for her, I am King Munson to you and everyone else at this table." His gaze returned to you. "Do you want to try?" You gulped. You were intrigued, but drinking from it would get you in trouble. "You are now free to do anything you choose. You're marrying me, therefore you'll be staying in my castle, far away from them." Something told you he wasn't talking about your mother but about your father and brother, who were glaring at him.

"I'm curious."

He grinned, bringing the cup from which he had been sipping to your lips. "Don't take a huge sip; you'll regret it." You followed his instructions. Your hands brushed against his as he never released the grip on the cup, assisting you. "Good girl." You almost choked, withdrawing the cup from your lips and coughing loudly. He smirked. "How did you find it?"

"It's rather strong," You said, making him laugh as you scrunched your face. "I always imagined it would be sweeter."

"I have some that are sweeter. We'll give them a go the next time."

The remainder of the night progressed in silence, with everyone engrossed in their own dishes and hesitant to speak up. Normally, such a situation would make you exceedingly anxious but because you were seated next to King Munson, you didn't feel that way. He would sometimes ask whether you were enjoying your food, and he would take your honest responses into consideration, not wanting to offer you something you didn't like.

After supper, King Munson and you accompanied your family to the front door, where he only bowed to your father and brother but reassured your mother that she could visit anytime she wished. You'd miss her terribly.

"I'm sure you're fatigued, my Princess." You nodded shyly now that you were on your own. "This castle is large, but you will soon figure out where everything is. I'll give you a tour tomorrow after you've rested and eaten." You nodded your head again and accepted the arm he offered. You linked it with his as he led you to the second floor of his palace. A red rug adorned the stairs.

You two approached a black door, admiring its numerous intricacies. "I assume you like bats, my King." The one that had been perched on his shoulder had long since vanished.

He laughed. "I love them." He extended his free arm, opening the door and making you gasp. There was a large king-sized bed in the centre of the room, covered with black satin sheets that looked warm and inviting, as well as translucent drapes that gave the bed a more intimate appearance. Two massive wardrobes were situated on the right side of the room and were embellished with large tall mirrors that ran from top to bottom.

"That's the bathroom." He pointed to his left side. "If you need help bathing, I have female staff who will happily assist their future Queen."

"I usually bathe by myself." You valued your own space and intimacy.

"I hope our room meets your expectations. Notwithstanding, if you want to change any of the decorations...that is fine with me."

You had turned on your side to gaze at him, ignoring his last remarks. "Ours? I-I assumed we would…" You took a breather. "I thought we were supposed to sleep in separate chambers."

He rubbed his chin and shook his head. "Do your parents sleep in separate bedrooms?"

After nodding, you swallowed. "My parents' rooms are fairly apart from one another." He scowled as if he didn't like the idea. "My father believes that a wife should be in another chamber so that a husband may freely interact with other women."

King Munson sneered, disgusted by all he'd discovered about your father. "Well, Princess. Apart from you, I do not intend to sleep with anybody else. I will not share my bed or my body with a woman who is not you, and I hope you will desire to do the same." You simply nodded. "We'll be sharing a room and a bed, but I won't touch you without your permission." You breathed a sigh of relief. "My hands will only probe your body if you ask them to." His stare was usually so piercing that it made your legs shake and wonder if you were capable of standing. He must have noticed as he smirked and squeezed the flesh of your arm. "Come on, Princess. I'll let you change into your nightgown and then return to your bedside to sleep next to you." You lowered your head slightly as he did. His lips landed on your forehead, pressing a light and short kiss just beneath your hairline.

The night before had been pleasant. You had assumed that falling asleep in a strange place would be difficult. Nevertheless, you were totally wrong. As soon as your head struck the pillow, your eyes began to feel heavy, and your blinking became slower and lengthier.

King Munson was lying on his side of the bed, looking at you and speaking quietly to you about his Kingdom. He was undoubtedly attempting to lull you into absolute relaxation so that you could fall asleep. And you'd done it.

As a result, you awoke this morning well-rested and with a growling stomach.

Eddie had not been there in the morning, much to your dismay, but Nancy, one of his employees, had reassured you by explaining that King Munson had a meeting early in the morning and had decided not to wake you up. Then she gave you time to wash and dress before guiding you into the same dining room as last night. 

With a handful of sunshine streams coming in through the window, you were able to enjoy the palace's magnificence even more.

"Is it good?" Dustin inquired, nodding his head and smiling broadly.

You nodded rapidly, attempting to swallow your food as soon as possible. "Will King Munson join me?"

Dustin shook his head, a remorseful expression on his face. "I'm sorry to inform you that Edd-." He coughed to restrain himself. "As you are aware, King Munson is attending an important conference. He will be unable to meet you for breakfast today, but he wanted me to let you know that this is a one-time incident." That sentence brought you joy. If you were to marry someone you didn't know, you hoped that both of you could live comfortably and without tension. "You will be escorted back to your room after breakfast. Nancy has prepared three lovely and unique gowns for you." You nodded, checking to see whether Nancy was present to thank her. "You may pick the one you like most." His brightness was contagious. "You will then be escorted to the carriage that is waiting outside the palace. King Munson will be there to receive you." You nodded and sipped the tea that had been particularly made for you. "You will both have a short tour of the city. It is customary for our people to view their new Queen-to-be."

You swallowed, tentatively. "Is it…are the people alright with having a Queen…daughter of Gerald?"

He gave a strained smile. "Do you want total transparency, ma'am?" You nodded immediately. "They are afraid of Gerald of Y/L/N, but they are open-minded. I know terrible things have been said about my King, but I can promise you that no one is better than him." You paid great attention to what he was saying. "The people adore him, and he puts forth every effort to listen to them as frequently as possible."

"That's fantastic." It really was.

"Have you noticed, my lady, how many children live in this castle?" He laughed, as did you. "King Munson does not want upper-class individuals to work for him, believing that they do not need the money as much as others do. The majority of us were orphans, and King Munson permitted us to live and work here." Your heart began to beat rapidly. "We will be eternally thankful to him. Please forgive us if we ever refer to him as Eddie. We address him as King Munson in public, but he has allowed being addressed as Eddie when important figures are not around. Also, please let us know if our presence ever makes you uncomfortable." You grimaced. "As previously said, we reside in this castle. We have access to every room on floor three, so we may be noisy and act like kids from time to time." He sheepishly looked at the ground, as did the knight-dressed girl named Max and the boy who constantly followed her around; Lucas.

"I believe that will be fun" You responded truthfully, making him grin in response.

"Do you have any children in your castle?"

You tilted your head. "Just extremely elderly and wealthy people…quite frightening ones as well." You trembled as you remembered some of the people your father kept around the residence. There was a man whose name you couldn't recall but whose visage you would always remember. He had abused some of the castle's workers, both men and women, and your father had still allowed him to live and work there. It was frightening to think that he may have tried to do something to you if you hadn't been the princess…but something told you that it wouldn't deter him from trying.

"King Munson looks after everyone here." He may have noticed the difference in your expression. "In fact, we all look out for each other."

"It appears to be a large family."

"Very much like that."

After breakfast, you were given a quick tour of the palace by a girl named Robin, who appeared to be laid back and made you feel at ease. She had raised expectations for a few of the rooms by suggesting that King Munson was disappointed as he couldn't give you the tour himself.

The palace was stunning.

Without a question, your favourite room was the library. It was a huge chamber with white shelves that spanned the entire length of the walls. They had no vacant space since they were crammed with novels. Plus, there were scarlet chairs that looked ideal for a reading frenzy. You were eager to put them to use.

After the tour and changing into a delightful bluish gown, you were led by Nancy and Dustin to the palace's entrance, where a pumpkin-like black carriage with silver ornaments awaited you.

"King Munson is already there." Dustin approached the chariot, and when someone opened the door for you, the lad gave his hand, assisting you in climbing the steps while your other hand grasped your skirts, not wanting to tumble down.

You'd crept inside, disregarding the door closing behind you as you sat down, your gaze fixed on the man sitting next to you. He looked stunning in a dark suit. "My future Queen," He pulled your glove off one of your hands so he could kiss the back of it. His gaze roamed over your face and body, making you flush. "May I say that you look fantastic?" As you told him how nice he looked, a hesitant crooked grin on your face. "I apologise for not being present this morning. I am sure everyone helped you feel at ease." You nodded, allowing him to continue holding your hand on top of his lap. "This will never happen again."

"It is fine." You gave him one of your brightest grins. "They took excellent care of me. I felt quite protected and at ease." Your comments had brought him comfort. He had spent the whole conference hoping you would be well without his presence, and he was relieved to learn that the treatment you received was what he had expected. "I was concerned about this part." You took a look around the carriage. "I wasn't sure if your folks would welcome me, but Dustin reassured me right away."

Eddie made a mental point to thank a favourite. "Whatever people believe has no bearing on who will spend the rest of their life with me." His thumb brushed against the back of your hand. "I care what people think about how I treat them, how they live, and everything else…but, as I previously stated, not in terms of who will spend the rest of their life with me. So don't let such thoughts into your head." You simply nodded. "Nonetheless, I believe they will like you. The only thing we can do right now is; grin and wave out the window. They only want to glimpse the face of their new, upcoming Queen." You hadn't realised you were already in the city, and people were crowding around you. Eddie leaned in and slid the curtain open.

"Wow." You were shocked to see so many people of all ages, all happy and chanting for their new Queen as their eyes landed on you. They greeted you warmly as if they already knew you. "Wow." You waved at them again, a genuine and thankful grin on your face.

"I told you." His voice was quite close to your ear, caressing it with his breath. "My people trust who I choose." 

You did not look away from the gathering. "You saved my brother, and I was just a mere compensation."

"An immense compensation." He continued. "However, in some ways, I had chosen you." You frowned again, this time while looking at him. "I was already smitten by you."

"Until yesterday, we didn't know each other."

He grinned, his gaze moving from your eyes to your mouth. "We did." When you frowned, he chuckled. "You've formerly danced with me, my Princess." You struggled to recollect such an event, but you were certain you would remember if it had occurred. "On your 18th birthday. The palace was open to all Kings and Princes. Except for you, everyone had to wear a mask." You had despised the idea of not knowing who you were dancing with, whereas they knew who they were dancing with. "I danced with you twice and assisted you in leaving the ballroom before midnight." You exclaimed. He had been a pleasant individual with a gentle and polite grip. The one who had kept silent throughout the night. "Wearing the-."

"The raven's mask."

He nodded and smiled. "The one and only." Why hadn't he told you who he was that night? You had inquired, but he had merely bowed, feigning to kiss your hand, leaving you with wonder and a tingling body.

"I asked for your name that night, but you didn't reply." A sigh escaped from between your lips. That mystery man had had quite an influence on you that night. You couldn't help but wonder who he was.

Every other person who had danced with you had used the chance to touch you more than you had desired, making you extremely uncomfortable. He was the only one who hadn't done such a thing. Such a simple and expected thing. "The ball was intended for Kings and Princes." And he was one of them. "But…" He moved in closer. "Do you think The Banished King was invited?" You winced, shaking your head. Edward Munson Sr had been a cruel man, yet why should King Munson have to pay for his father's sins or be mistreated since the King's only son was a bastard? Why was it his fault rather than his father's? "I'm pleased you were as intrigued about me as I was about you."

You were hesitant. "I had been thinking about you that night." He smirked at your linked hands now on your lap instead of his. "I was quite interested in learning who you were."

"Oh, you thought about me?" As he talked, his big, innocent eyes appeared to narrow and darken. "What kind of thoughts?"

You tensed your body, attempting to keep it from twitching. "I was only wondering who was hiding behind the raven's mask." You coughed, trying not to keep your voice from cracking. "It was a magnificent one, and…you were the only one who displayed even the tiniest regard for me."

He paused for a moment. "I'm sorry you had to position yourself throughout that situation. It will never happen again to you."

Turning your head toward the window, you continued to smile and wave with your free hand, your cheeks flushed. "My entire body tingled." You soon regretted uttering such embarrassing things.

"Raise your voice, sweetheart." He squeezed your hand. "And be sure to look at me when you do." His statements made it plain that he had heard you and merely wanted you to repeat what he had said.

Your stare met his once again. Your heart seemed to be attempting to flee from your chest, thumping furiously. "That night, my body felt odd." He hummed as he transferred his sight from your eyes to your mouth. "It felt tingly."

"Does that happen frequently?" You shrugged, not knowing how to respond to his query, feeling very ashamed for having revealed such information. "Do you do anything when this happens?" He enquired about what you did to stop the sensation after you nodded your head.

"I take care of it."

He hummed again, a grin on his face and a curious sparkle in his eyes. "How do you look after it?"

You took a deep breath that made your chest tremble. "Hands." Eddie was able to hear a whisper.

"Hands?" You simply nodded. His hand dropped from yours, his finger gently touching your cheek. "Do you rub yourself?" You swallowed. "Does that ease the ache?"

"Sometimes." He cocked one of his brows. "Aside from that…" It was terrible for a woman to enjoy herself without a male; you had always been told. "Aside from that…" You shook your head, too ashamed to say anything else.

"Do you insert them in?" You gasped, staring deep into his eyes, only to see the amusement on his face.

"Do not make fun of me." You were nearly succeeded in returning your gaze to the window when King Munson's delicate touch under your chin stopped you.

"I'm not mocking you." He reassured. "I'm wondering if you did similar things when you were thinking about me. Women are entitled to more pleasure than men, I believe." Your pulse was descending to other regions of your body as you chewed your bottom lip.

"Yes, my King." He grumbled and closed his eyes for a few seconds.

"Please tell me, Y/N." His pause was brief. "May I touch you? This very moment."

You wanted that. For some reason, you wanted to feel his touch even more now that you knew he was the raven. You'd met the man the day before and were already interested in him, eager to get to know the person about whom others had spread rumours…and wanted to discover if his rugged hands would be soft when caressing you.

"People will notice."

His head jerked. "They are not going to. If I thought you would be seen in such a position, I would never have asked." Your heart was pounding furiously. "May I? You should not feel pressed. You certainly can-."

"I want to." You said. His lips twitched.

"Good." The way his voice darkened had your heart racing. "Look at your people. Smile and wave." His fingers left your cheeks and took off down the side of your neck, brushing up against the curvature of your chest. Your nipples stiffened instantaneously as they felt constrained by the clothing. "Show them how lovely their new Queen is." Your lips twitched, making it impossible for you to deliver a flawless grin. "Just like that." You heard him shift around and sensed movement close to you. King Munson had seized your skirts and lifted them to your lap, sliding his hands against your thighs.

"W-what." Your voice and body shook as a result of the predicament you were in. His fingertips massaged the inner of your thigh, causing goosebumps all over.

He hushed you softly, his finger moving farther and farther as the seconds flew, until it reached the place between your legs, causing you to yelp. One finger travelled up and down the centre of your underwear. "How did it get so wet?" He hummed in satisfaction, his finger again repeating the same motion.

His fingers performed the very same pattern numerous times, seeking to gently explore your body. As his fingers crept into your underpants, anxious to touch your flesh, King Munson caused you to gasp and close your eyes for a few seconds. "Oh, my gosh." Your voice was trembling, and you couldn't conceal it as the pads of two of his fingers parted your lips, trailing up and down and rising the temperature of your body.

"You are soft and warm." He muttered, and you fought the urge to turn around and examine what he looked like at this minute since he sounded to be having a great time. "Is this all for me?" You nodded briefly, still concerned the people of your soon-to-be Kingdom could perceive anything odd or unusual in your expressions. "Use your words, Princess."

"Yes, my King." He groaned, pleased with your response and how attentively you listened to him.

His fingers ascended after a few strokes, settling on your bundle of nerves. You shuddered with excitement, and he chuckled, appreciating every reaction your body could muster. "How adorable." His fingers massaged it in circles. The pressure was appropriate, and his motions were neither forceful nor mild. "I cannot wait to see how it looks." You gasped, leaning backwards as your back connected with his chest, unable to sit upright on your own. You simply wanted to open your legs and offer him the most access to your core. "I'm curious how big or small it is. My fingers are not enough to guess, but I'm confident I'll adore every part of you." His voice was closer than it had been, and his breath tickled your left ear. "I'm curious about how you taste." A moan from your lips as his fingers ran in circles at breakneck speed, causing your hips to buckle against his hand. "Are you trying to fuck my hand?" How could he speak such things freely while making you feel as if you were in heaven? "I can feel you getting closer and closer." Your hips began to move by themselves, attempting to meet his hand in sharper strokes. You had to use all of your strength to keep your lips from opening as your forced grin and wave faltered.

King Munson waved with the hand that wasn't between your legs before closing the curtains and leaning forward, giving you privacy and permission to recline backwards. Your eyes closed and your mouth opened, accompanied by your body arching. "Oh my god."

"Not your God, Princess." He began to place open kisses on your neck. "Your King." His fingers moved even quicker, allowing your hips to connect with the rest of his hand, providing you with even more pleasure. "Your fiance." Whimpers left your lips as your hand rested on his thigh, clutching his suit pants. Simultaneously, his free hand explored your chest. You nearly moaned, wanting to feel his skin against yours rather than simply his hands squeezing and pinching your breasts through your clothes. "Your future husband." His mouth went in closer, biting your elbow, while the hand on your breasts travelled to your neck, circling and clutching it like a necklace. "Give it to me, Princess. Wet my fingers and make a great deal of noise while doing so." He didn't need to ask for the remaining bit since your whimpers grew louder.

"My King," you wailed, as he pinched your clit. "Oh, my g-. Oh, my King." You groaned a few times.

"Y/N, let it go." You shuddered. "Do not be greedy," His fingers tightened around your neck. "Now it's my time to enjoy some of you." That was enough to make you moan loudly, cumming and coating his fingers with your juice. Your clit beat at the same rate as your chest strained.

You quivered as his fingers brushed you for the last time, and when you heard an unusual sound, you glanced up, twisting your head backwards, seeing King Munson licking his fingers, which were coated by your slick. "W-what."

"I'd like to claim this is the best meal I've ever had." His chin gleamed. "But it was just the appetiser." His hand reached into one of his coat pockets, pulling out a white silk handkerchief with his initials embroidered on it. He then lifted your skirts again, wiping your core. He folded the same item and placed it back in his pocket after delicately cleaning the dampness between your legs, much to your surprise. "Let's return home." Your chest expanded. "You must be hungry, and we have our wedding announcement dinner tonight." His lips found your brow and kissed it. Then he directed the carriage driver to return home. Eddie chuckled as your cheeks reddened, believing he must have listened to your moans. "Don't worry, he didn't."

The day had flown by in the company of King Munson. However, your gaze had remained fixed on him throughout the remainder of the day, while your thoughts seemed to be preoccupied with what had occurred in the carriage. You wished to feel his hands on you once more. You wanted his fingers to explore regions of your body that he hadn't had the opportunity to pursue, and…you wanted to explore his body as well and understand all he was hiding underneath his garments. Simultaneously, you were experiencing feelings of humiliation. You had already let him touch you shortly after meeting him. Did he believe you were easy?

A harsh grip on your forearm yanked you away from the evil notion that invaded your mind, causing you to yelp as a result of the unusually forceful grip.

"I need to speak with you." Your brother snarled, dragging you away from the centre of the room and concealing you both close to a wall where no one could see you.

The ceremony for your wedding announcement was underway, and your family, as well as several significant figures from neighbouring Kingdoms, had been invited. Everyone was eating and drinking and conversing at the same time.

"What exactly do you want?" You tried to wrest your arm from his grasp, but it simply tightened more.

"To speak with you." He looked around to make sure your fiance wasn't nearby. "I need you to cancel it all." His hand eventually left your arm as he signalled what was going on at the time. "You are not allowed to marry King Munson. I've been thinking about it, and it would be horrible for me as King if our people found out that I had permitted you to marry a bastard." He snapped, looking you in the eyes.

"You should have considered that before promising two unknown and random men that they could marry me in exchange for rescuing your ass." You cried. "I will not marry a man who is notorious for making his wives disappear." You shook your head and attempted to move away. He kept staring at you. "You're more concerned with what other people think of your decisions than with me. You are more concerned with what could happen to you than with what might happen to me." Your breathing was unsteady. "And recently, it's all been about you. Me listening to you. I'm weary of living for your benefit. I'm exhausted, and I'm going to marry King Munson." You attempted to reduce the loudness of your voice. "At the very least, he appears to care about me."

"Do you believe marrying this man will make others respect you?"

"You are not the person to speak, Thomas."

"I'll do all I can to shatter this." He spat on you unintentionally.

"Do it!" You retaliated with a spit. "I dare you, Thomas Y/L/N. I dare you to do anything about it, and I will tell everything." His brow creased. "If you do something about it…Father will find out about Steve." He flinched. You would never harm your brother or Steve, but you needed to intimidate him because you were afraid of being removed from Eddie and thrown into the hands of a disgusting old man. "I will tell father how much you have loved him since you were children, how you have promised him the best of lives, how you have told him that you would never touch the lady who will be chosen as your future bride." He exclaimed, his eyes welling up with tears. "I'll do it, Thomas. He'll be aware of every location Steve and you have-." His jaw tightened, as did his hold.

Someone coughed, drawing your attention in that direction. "Is there an issue here?" King Munson stood there with a stern expression on his face, looking between you two until his eyes settled on your brother's grip. "I'd prefer the only markings on your sister's body to be love marks done by me, therefore I'd really appreciate it if you could remove your hands off her." Your brother turned around and let you go, his sad eyes looking deep into yours, filling your own with tears. "Come on, princess."

You rushed to your fiance, who warmly wrapped his arm around you, attempting to soothe your trembling body while still staring deeply into your brother's eyes. "How did you find out?" Thomas' voice trembled.

"The walls can see and hear." You responded before turning around. Indeed, the walls did. And you did as well.

Perhaps they felt a love for each other that you had never known. One of those loves that will destroy you from within if you let it go. You had noticed their stares, the not-so-subtle touches, and you had seen them hide and try to consume their love.

You felt terrible for threatening him in such a way, not comprehending how difficult it must have been for him to know that he might someday marry a woman he did not love or even feel attracted to. Even if he had told Steve he would never touch her…he would have to give a new King to the Kingdom. What was he thinking at the time? Would he spend his entire life hiding, keeping Steve near and forcing him to hide with him?

"What was the meaning of that?" Eddie muttered as he led you to another part of the room. "Should I have someone evict him? I'll do it if he is bothering you. I do not care if he is the King of Setsunai." It made you pleased to know that he cared about you and did not like how your brother had treated you. It made you feel safe, which you had not felt in your house. Your mother had attempted to protect you as much as she could, but you both knew that there would come a moment when she would be unable to shelter you under her wing. Where your father will not hold back and will determine everything for you.

"It's fine." You took a deep breath and spun to stare into his eyes. "I was just taken aback." Your gaze darted across the room, surprising yourself when you noticed Steve in a corner, eyes wide open as he peered in your direction. Perhaps he had witnessed your interaction with your brother. That's what you thought until you realised he wasn't looking at you but at something happening behind you: your father was introducing your brother to Princess Everleigh, and Steve was staring at them with the greatest pain he'd ever felt.

"Are they together?" King Munson inquired, his voice just above a whisper so that only you could hear.

"I think so." He'd noticed the concern lines on your face as you continued to stare at Steve. "They're both future Kings; why cannot they do whatever they desire?"

Eddie gazed at you, eager to hear what you had to say. He admired the fact that your ideas were so different from your father's and that you felt everyone should be free to do anything they chose. "Unfortunately," he gripped your hand as it rested on his elbow. "Whether you are a King or not, you must constantly follow someone else's desire or you will be rejected by everyone else." He cast a glance towards Steve, who turned around and left the room. Your brother saw him leave, and although taking a step forward, he ended up shaking his head and remaining with princess Everleigh. "Some would rather live an endless life of pain and comfort than endure the repercussions of seeking to live the life they dream of with the one for whom they bleed."

As you looked at him, your eyes welled up with tears. "That's awful."

He nodded, dreading the tears welling up in your eyes. "Such is life."

You offered a teary chuckle. "Life is hell then."

He returned the chuckle. "I believe life is awful in and of itself, but it is up to you whether you want to look at it that way or not."

You scowled. "I do not really think it's that simple."

"Not always, but most of the time." He proceeded despite your perplexed look. "If you dwell on your flaws and the awful things that have occurred to you, you are just throwing yourself in the hands of similar things happening again. Of course, life has its ups and downs, but focusing solely on one would cause more harm than good." You took a big breath. "I can think of how horrific my life had been: my father was a murderer and I am a bastard, or I can think of me being a King today, even though it is a stressful task. My people trust me and approve of my judgments." His fingertips massaged your skin. "And I now have you."

You felt a tremor sweep through your body. "Is this going to last a long time? Crowds irritate me."

"Then we're two." His response made you smile. "However, I bet no one will notice if we leave. He'd leaned in closer, whispering in your ear.

"This is our wedding announcement." You giggled, covering your mouth with your hand, which he swiftly withdrew, yearning to see your smile. "I think they'll notice if the future husband and bride vanish."

He hummed. "I believe the food and beverages will keep them occupied. We've already spoken to everyone and made our presence known." He appeared to be looking for someone, and when he did, he raised his arm in the air. Dustin arrived not long after, dressed in a suit that appeared to be too large for him. He smiled in your direction, and you reciprocated. He was your personal favourite. "The future Queen is exhausted, as am I. Do you think you could make an excuse for us if someone asked about us?" Dustin gave a brief nod of his head. "Good. Tell Eleven and Mike to keep an eye out for anyone removing anything of value from the castle." Yet another nod. "And instruct Max and Lucas to make certain that no one goes anywhere they should not." You had discovered that several people had attempted to enter King Munson's castle without his consent.

"Good night." You spoke to the youngster, who grinned broadly. King Munson escorted you two out of the chamber, and your ears appeared to relax after not hearing hundreds of voices from every direction.

"He seems to like you a lot."

"I like him a lot as well." You replied with a smile on your face, but you suddenly hissed, preventing Eddie from guiding you upstairs. "May I remove my heels?" He frowned. "I'm not used to wearing such high heels…my feet hurt." He kneeled in front of you after your words, letting his fingertips brush your ankles and part of your legs as he removed your heels.

"Done." He grasped your heels in one of his hands, and before you could say thank you and proceed up the steps, your body floated as he scooped you, carrying you in bridal style. "Perfect." He grinned down at you, who was staring at him with amazement on your face. "I heard through Robin that you had never read The Lord of the Rings, and I was hoping that was not the case." You remembered when Robin showed you the library and you fell head over heels in love with it. She had inquired whether you had read TLOTR, only for you to respond that it was not the sort of book you preferred to read since you were drawn to romance. "So it must be true!" He exclaimed, a terrific expression on his face as if he had written TLOTR himself and been informed it was a terrible book. "I seriously can not believe my future bride and Queen has not yet read these amazing novels. That must be changed, my Princess." You laughed at his offended expression. He came to a halt and placed you on the ground in front of the bedroom you both shared. "This is the plan," he said, perplexing you. "We change into comfortable clothing and then head to the library to read The Lord of the Rings together." He grinned, and for some reason, spending that quality time with him made your pulse race wildly. "Is that okay with you?"

You nodded, trying to disguise your excitement as you swiftly unlocked the door, stepped into the room, and rushed to your bed, pulling your nightgown from beneath the pillow.

Eddie laughed as you walked into the bathroom to change clothes as he changed in the room.

Eddie and you were sitting across from one other, his gaze fixed on you.

He made you read the book aloud, and to be honest, you were nervous about it, afraid of tripping over the words since you were anxious and intimidated by his presence, but not in a bad way.

"On September 20th two covered carts went off laden to Buckland, conveying the furniture and goods that Frodo had not sold to his new home..."

Eddie rose up from his seat, his eyes fixated on you in a manner that prompted you to shudder. "Keep reading." When he realised your silence, he was ready to speak.

You nodded as you gulped. "...by way of the Brandywine Bridge." He was now quite close to your body, and you could feel the warmth emanating from his skin even though he wasn't touching you. As he kneeled on the ground in front of you, your voice trembled. "T-The next day," You coughed. "F-Frodo became really anxious, and kept a constant look-out for Gandalf."

His gaze shifted to your lap, and he gently parted your legs, exposing them. "Open them." Your pupils dilated.

"That's not very ladylike." You responded.

"What I want to do is also not very genteel." As your body trembled once again, he grinned. "Y/N, open your legs." You listened to him and opened them further for him. You were tiptoeing since the only portion of your feet that came into contact with the frigid ground were your toes. "And I said to keep reading."

His fingers gradually tugged your nightgown upwards, revealing most of your naked legs to him. His breathing was uneven, but he was fast to control it, which you did not appear to be capable of. His fingertips brushed over your flesh, causing goosebumps. "Thursday," you tried to continue, your gaze darting from between the pages to the man in front of you. "His birthday morning," Eddie's face moved closer to your legs, and you could feel his breath tenderly tickling your legs. "…dawned as fair and clear as it had long ago for Bilbo's great party. Still-." You shrieked. He was kissing your legs tenderly, around your ankles and calves. "Gandalf did not appear." You had to pause once more, your mouth opening as his kisses grew more intense, open kisses in which his mouth stroked and nibbled your skin. "I cannot think clearly." His fiery eyes just returned your gaze, pushing you to continue. "In the evening F-Frodo gave his farewell feast: i-it was-." As his lips brushed over your flesh and bit the inside of your thighs, a whimper escaped from between your lips.

"Go on." You shuddered as his lips slipped away from your body simply to utter such a thing.

You exhaled, straining to concentrate. "It was quite small, j-just a dinner for himself and his f-four helpers." His bites were drawing closer and closer, causing your body to respond by dampening your undies. You'd stopped again without realising it, prompting King Munson to slap the side of your right leg as a warning. "But he was t-t-troubled and felt in no m-mood for it." His hands moved higher, clutching your hips and dragging your body closer to the edge of the couch so he could get to the centre of your core effortlessly. He pressed his nose on your underpants, inhaling. Such dirty behaviour made you exclaim and become flustered. "The t-thought that he would so soon have to part with his y-young friends…" As he reached beneath your panties, his hands touched your lips. He growled, ripping your underwear, shocking you. "…w-w-weighed on his heart." The book then fell from your hands, bouncing on the couch before landing on the ground.

His mouth had begun to devour you. Not gently. Not slowly. He acted fast and hungrily as if he had been anticipating this moment his entire life. As though he'd been trying to restrain himself since the night you walked into his castle, or even since the night you both danced with each other.

"Oh my goodness," You sobbed, seizing his long curls as his hands penetrated the flesh of your thighs and his mouth and tongue fought with your core.

He didn't appear to require oxygen.

He continued to devour you in ways you never imagined conceivable. And when he paused, peering deep into your eyes with a glistening nose and chin covered in your slick, he made you whine. 

He brought his hand up to your face, displaying three of his fingers. "Suck them." Your eyes widened, and he had to tap your lips to shake you out of your reverie. "Go ahead, Y/N." You opened your mouth and let him shove his fingers inside it, sucking and twisting your tongue around the digits.

You almost closed your eyes. But before you could, his fingers left your mouth, slipping between your lower lips and quickly pushing themselves within you.

"Ahh." A gasp rang out once again in the room.

"You are trusting my fingers to enter you." The heat assaulting your body was unbearable. "I can feel you clamping around my fingers." He began thrusting gently, making you whimper and long for more. "You're very warm and inviting." His fingers and your fluids made a slapping sound as the action grew faster. "That sounds fantastic." As his thumb circled your clitoris, his movement grew frantic. You tightened your walls.

"Eddie." You whimpered, tears welling up in your eyes as a result of the incredible pleasure caused by his fingers inside you and his thumb still kneading your bud. "Oh, my gosh." His fingers curled. You shrieked. You'd never felt anything like what you were feeling at the time…he…his fingers were striking a certain part of your insides, causing you to feel some type of delightful pressure. "Oh, fuck." The big eyes of King Munson met yours. He was taken aback by the fact that you had cursed.

"Is that it, sweetheart?" You couldn't respond since you were too engrossed in the sensation. He didn't need to know the answer anyhow. He knew he was about to reach the area that had you screaming your lungs out. "Is it here?" He began to strike it harder.

"I am going to-." Your hands sought to grab the couch as if you needed to squeeze something.

"Come on. I can tell you're coming closer." He bit his bottom lip, repositioning himself to pound harder into you. Sweat beads poured down his brow. "Come on. I want to lick you clean." That made it for you as you groaned loudly, hips rising as you came. 

The waves in your body caused you to tumble off the sofa, and even if you had cum, King Munson continued to thrust his fingers. "I can't. I can't." You were being overstimulated by him. "Please stop. Something is going on." You swiftly grabbed his wrist, but he was stronger than you and kept going. "Please." You sobbed.

Something bizarre and awkward was going on with your body. It vibrated and twitched on its own, and you felt like you were about to wet yourself, which was quite humiliating.

"Fuck, that's tight."

"Oh, Eddie, please." Of course, he did not pay attention, continuing to twirl his fingers. Then you sensed it. Eddie's lap got moist from the satisfying dripping. You'd seen a flow emerge from your pussy. "W-what?" Eddie's motions had paused as he glanced at his soaking lap and arm. "I am so sorry. I am very sor-."

You were interrupted by the collision of lips. "Fuck, you squirted." Was that what happened? "If I couldn't imagine you being any more captivating…"

After those words, his mouth met yours again, and he kissed you fervently, permitting your tongues to dance seductively against each other. You could taste him as well as yourself.

Your hands were pushing against his chest. "That is not fair. You've already pleased me twice, yet I have not done anything for you."

"I am a giver, Princess." He said, biting your lower lip, drawing blood, and sucking it. "But if I had your hands wrapped around me or that lovely mouth of yours." He wiped more of the blood off your lip with his thumb. "I would not be able to stop myself."

"Then don't."

He groaned. "I want to truly commit to you when we marry." You tugged his bottom lip into your mouth, feeling more daring, causing him to groan. Eddie Munson kept his eyes open the entire time, desiring to see every emotion you could muster. "But tomorrow night…you are entirely mine, and I am entirely yours." His brow rested against yours. "I swear I'm doing everything I can not to get you naked right now and bury myself deep in you." You closed your eyes, envisioning it and longing for tomorrow night. "I realise it's far too soon, Princess." His hand ran over your hair. "But I've loved you ever since that night we danced." You gulped. "I will do all in my power to provide you a life you will adore because I love you." You hesitated before your mouth opened. "You do not have to respond if you do not really feel it." He chuckled. "I am confident that you will ultimately fall in love with me."

After a few more kisses and fondling, King Munson and you returned to your room at night, taking turns bathing and falling asleep with intertwined hands.

The same chamber as the day before was, again, filled with hundreds of people who had been invited to your wedding. Even if you wished for fewer guests, you understood that Eddie, as King, had to invite those with whom maintaining a connection would benefit his Kingdom and people. Of course, many of the guests you did not even know and others you had only met the previous night when you and Eddie had stunned everyone by announcing your wedding the day before your formal wedding.

A platinum ring with a ruby now encircled your finger. It was exceptionally lovely and classy. You could detect King Munson…your husband's taste just by looking at it.

"It's a lovely gown, my Queen." A woman, whose name you could not recall, congratulated you. You could not even tell if she was the wife of the older or younger politician. Although, what you grasped was the way her eyes were fixed all the time on another lady who flashed her winks from another part of the room. "Did you choose it yourself?"

You promptly nodded your head, a grin on your face, thanking her for her compliment. Then you excused yourself and went in search of your husband, who had gone in pursuit of one of your favourite cocktails. Your heart started racing as soon as you saw him, and it continued to do so as he steadily approached you. A grin, of course, adorned his face as his gaze wandered all over your body and appearance. His eyes usually spent more time on your face than any other area of your body.

"You look stunning." You cracked a grin. "I absolutely can not wait till tonight." His forehead leaned against yours as you grabbed the cup from him.

You were overjoyed to finally be able to be with him. While at the same time, you were nervous since you had no prior experience with another person. You were familiar with your own body, but you had never had someone else explore every curve and weak spot.

You brought the cup up to your lips. Edie moaned as he took a step closer to you, his protecting arm wrapped around your shoulders. "Here we go again."

"You look stunning." Your mother smiled at you, her sparkling eyes signalling she was crying. Your heart ached as you hugged her and smiled. She profited from the chance to whisper in your ear. "I'm delighted you disobeyed our rule."

It was customary in your Kingdom for the bride to wear all white, with globes and a veil concealing her face. It was a symbol that a lady was pure for her spouse. You've always despised it. The women had to be pure, and the men…it didn't matter what they were.

Eddie was aware of the custom and had expressed his displeasure with it, proposing to wear one of the colours that symbolised his Kingdom. So, you were dressed in a dark purple bridal gown that looked stunning on you. You had never felt this attractive or lovely in a dress before.

"Thank you, mom." You squeezed her one final time, your gaze meeting that of your father and brother, who were plainly dissatisfied with your colour choice.

"I must admit that I am perplexed by the need to demonstrate that you are not pure." Snorting, your father commented.

"As much as I don't see why others need to know if a lady is pure or not." King Munson responded by mimicking your father's snort. "As I do not see how you can openly speak or express your view about a Queen in a position higher than yours." My eyes, like my father's, expanded. But, although I was trying not to laugh, my father was visibly enraged. "The amount of people available for you to control is dwindling, and I will happily urge you to refrain from making comments about my wife and Queen." He moved his fingers around your cup as he gripped it. He sipped from the same place that had been smeared by your lipstick. "I don't take it lightly when people make disparaging remarks about my wife." He looked over at your brother. "Neither when they attempt to do something else." He was referring to the previous night when your brother had tightly grasped your wrist. "Whether she is pure or not is irrelevant to any of you." Your father said something. "Were you, Gerald, pure when you married?" He cocked his brow.

"A man needs experience."

Eddie scoffed, shaking his head. "For his wife's or his own pleasure?" 

"As I previously stated," Your father had a firm grasp on his drink. "A man needs experience."

"And, in most cases, a muzzle too."

"It is not wise of you to offend another King from another Kingdom, regardless of your position." Thomas stepped in, his jaw clenched.

"Please tell me, Y/N." You stared at your spouse, but he didn't look at you. "Do your Kingdom's men have every type of experience?" You wrinkled your brows, unable to grasp what he was saying. "Because I'm aware that certain ministers from your former Kingdom were banished for…interacting with other males." His gaze was fixed on Thomas, nearly searing him. "It's too bad people can't freely love or do whatever they want." You were now listening carefully to what he was saying. "But were those gents practising for their wives? I have no idea how fucking…" Your mother's eyes were wide open, and your father was visibly agitated. He'd be much furious if he knew about Thomas. "How can fucking another man be preparation for their future wife?" He sipped yet again. "It is broadly acknowledged that men and women have different s-."

"Father," your brother stepped in once again. "There is no benefit in remaining in his presence. Let's go engage with individuals who can benefit us." Your brother stared at him before shifting his focus to you. "Queen." He snarled and bowed.

"You're making a mistake, girl." Your father seized your mother's arm, yanking her away from you.

"I wish there was something I could do for her."

"You certainly can." Why did he constantly appear to stare deep into your eyes? "You are now a Queen. What I have is yours as well. Your mother is entitled to leave your father and migrate to our Kingdom." He looked up to find your mother standing next to your father, who didn't look her way. "My money is now yours. Your mother could rebuild her life." His gaze shifted elsewhere. "Who really can say? Maybe she'll meet someone else." You followed his eyes until you noticed a broad man with a beard. He was fixated on your mother.

"Who is he?"

He grinned, placing the cup on a nearby table. "Hopper, one of my most loyal guards." He twirled the rings that adorned his fingers. "If I may say so myself, he is my favourite."

You burst out laughing. "Everyone is your favourite."

"No." His voice had warmed. "They are favourites, but you prevail over all of them." He took a step closer, unconcerned that others might see both of you as he dropped his head, lips connecting with yours. And it wasn't an innocent one. His hand was wrapped around your throat as his mouth pushed wide, his tongue quickly entering your mouth.

"Stop." You licked your bottom lip, your hands on his chest. "Everyone is watching."

"If that's what they're interested in." He grinned as he attempted another kiss, but you were swift to step back.

Fuck. He stared you in the eyes with those huge, dazzling pupils. Eyes that made him appear innocent even though you knew he wasn't. His energy validated your ideas.

And how could he seem so intimidating and domineering yet his hands were always soft, seeking whatever portion of your unprotected flesh to caress?

"I love you." Before you could think about it, the words had left your mouth. You'd only known him for a few days, but you'd never felt this way before. This was not a crush. You've had a crush before. For a long time, Arthur was your biggest infatuation. He was the baker's son who provided for the castle. He used to accompany his father, and you had heart eyes for him since you were a teenager. But what you felt for him was curiosity, excitement, and lust. Those were sensations you had for Eddie as well, but they were far stronger and mixed with love.

"Fuck." Eddie moaned, capturing your hand and guiding you out of the room, taking full advantage of everyone else being preoccupied with dancing and conversing. You attempted to inquire as to where he was taking you, but he remained silent, wordlessly guiding you to a chamber. His office.

The door slammed shut behind you.

Before you could ask what was going on, his mouth was locked on yours. As he kissed you, his hands again encircled your throat.  Kisses that were too sloppy, revealing his desperation to feel you against his body and mouth.  His hips were constantly slamming into your lower abdomen, and you responded by awkwardly rotating yours against his.

Your hands, which had been resting on his chest, chose to explore, prompting you to drop them to his tummy. You were curious to see how he looked without those garments. If he looked like a God when dressed, imagine what he looked like nude. Perhaps Death himself. Your demise.

Eddie stopped, attempting to regain his breath so he could linger kissing you for a longer period. Nevertheless, you had spoken before he could do so, causing him to blink incredulously. "W-what exactly did you say?" He sought proof that he had correctly heard you.

"I'd want to suck you." Everything was said hurriedly. You needed to know as if it were a matter of life or death. You plainly couldn't wait for him to sober up as your hands slid down, pressing against his already firm member. Both of your eyes followed your hand as you stroked it, highlighting the shape through his suit pants with a finger. "Teach me."

"Oh my God, Jesus Christ H." Eddie exhaled. Was this real?

It was. Even though you appeared surreal lowering yourself to the ground and kneeling…everything was real.

Eddie looked at you, recognising a surprising glint in your eyes. The same one you got every time you were intrigued or thrilled about something. And this time, that something was him.

"Guide me." Your words made him throb, his cock pounding on his pants and hardening painfully. "Please, I really want to do it." Those remarks led him to drop his pantsuits as quickly as possible, practically tearing them and allowing his member to be free. He hadn't been wearing underwear so it slapped against his stomach as it stood tall and firm.

King Munson leaned against the office door, allowing you full access to his member, who was in your line of sight. Before he could speak, he had to clear his throat. "First, use your hands." His voice had broken with anticipation of what was to come. "Wrap your delicate fingers around my cock. Encircle it." He shuddered as your hands neared his member, and when he felt your fingers and palm around him, he nearly passed out. "Fuck." He closed his eyes for a few seconds and whispered,  "Up and down, move." Eddie felt his legs shake a little when you started doing so. "Sweetheart, twist your wrist. It will be more pleasurable." You nodded, your gaze fixed on his dick. You looked like you were ready to take him into your mouth, and he was as ready to be in there.

"Is this all right?" Alright? Eddie was fighting with every fibre of his being not to pass out or to fuck you like an eager rabbit.

"It's flawless. You are flawless." Your hand had come to a halt while you awaited his response. "Sweetheart, don't stop." You proceeded. "Use your other hand for my balls." You flushed, raising your eyebrows. "They should be stroked. They should be massaged."

"Like you did with my chest?" He muttered, tightening his jaw and allowing his hips to come into contact with your hand.

"Just like that."

"When am I supposed to put it in my mouth?"

Maybe he had a fever and you were some kind of demon convincing him to go to Hell. But if Hell felt this way, he didn't need convincing.

"Come closer." He made a hand motion, asking you to hurry, and as you got closer, his hands rested on your head, fingers intertwining with strands of your gorgeous and silky hair, bringing you farther closer. "Begin with the tip gently. Suck it, kiss it. Then try to take everything. No teeth, okay?" You licked your bottom lip as you nodded, your thighs twitching. You were ecstatic and drenched from just seeing and touching him.

You had paid close attention to him.  Eddie's palm tightened in your hair, your tongue probing his tip and encircling part of his head a couple of times. You licked strips along his dick, following one particular vein that appeared to pulse in your mouth, becoming more daring. Then you began to take him in, inadvertently grazing him with your teeth but rapidly using your lips and tongue.

His other hand brushed your cheek as he fixated to see his cock enter and exit your mouth. Even in that state, you were stunning. 

As your hand wrapped the bit of his member that you couldn't get in your mouth, your eyes squinted in delight. When you whimpered around him and Eddie noticed you rocking against your heel, he slapped your hand away. His hands, now, on the back of your head, thrusting his full member into your mouth and causing you to choke. Eddie began fucking your mouth. Teary eyes met his and nails piercing his thighs. You were no longer in command. He was. "Oh, heck yeah." He thrust aggressively, a handful of times scraping the back of your throat. Even though you were in astonishment, your hands stroked his balls. "You're taking me so well." You groaned again, choking around him. "Gagging around me…fuck, you look wonderful even like that." Your hair was stuck to your brow, and your cheeks were flushed. "Is this your drunk-cock face, sweetheart?" He went even deeper, grunting and moaning and not caring whether he was heard. "That's right. That look will haunt me for the rest of my life…divine." He shifted his posture, going deeper. His sack slapped against your chin, which had a trail of saliva running down. "Good, uh?" You whined, nodding. "Fuck, I'm going to cum." He, like you, was growing restless. "I'm coming in your mouth." You made him moan by hallowing your cheeks. You could taste hot sperm spurts on your tongue. "Swallow." He smacked your face lightly, dick still in. "Swallow it, don't waste it." He thrust three more times, following his high. Then your mouth was released from his cock, allowing you to swallow the rest of his cum, which was quite a load.

A smear of saliva connected the tip of his member and your mouth.

"Salty." Your words were opposed by your tongue, which came out of your mouth to lick the drop that tried to fall down your chin.

"Sweetheart, get up." You did as you were ordered, but Eddie had to grasp your elbows since your legs were wobbling. How would you feel after taking him nice and deep if you were only like that by sucking him? "Come on, let's go to our room." He'd barely gotten the door halfway open when your palm slammed against it, shutting it.

"No, I need you right now." He loved how you responded with words rather than just nods and smiles or soft eyes. Words. "I need you right now."

"I, too, need you." He pecked your lips, his hands grasping your thighs, and he despised the fact that you were covered. "But I want our first time to be memorable. I-."

"It's special because it's with you, Eddie." It may have sounded corny, but it was precisely how you felt. "And I don't believe I'll be able to wait till we get to our room. I desperately need you right now." Your chest was pumping and your body was beginning to burn from the heat. "Please. I'll beg."

Eddie could feel every muscle in his body quiver and twist. "Go to the desk." He smacked your buttocks again, angered by the garments you were wearing. "Quick." He trailed close behind.

You both rounded it, and Eddie plopped on his desk chair, which resembled a throne, reminding you that you were now a Queen, married to King Edward Munson.

You gulped, seeing his confident posture, hand resting under his chin as he stared at you, unconcerned with his dick still standing stiff and exposed. "What should I do?"

"You should go nude right now." He demanded, his voice hard and stern. He removed his jacket and tossed it to the ground, followed by his white shirt. Eddie wasn't extremely fit. Even so, there was a slight tightness of his arm muscles. His chest was covered in hair, and his belly did unusual things to your body. "Screw it." He grabbed your skirts, dragging you closer to him. "I can't handle it any longer." Your skirts were torn off your body in an instant, and you had no time to complain about how lovely your wedding gown was as you found yourself practically naked in front of your spouse. Only wearing a corset and undies. Eddie, on the other hand, was quick to stick his fingers inside your underwear. "Drenched, as expected," and ripped once again. "I don't believe I need to prepare you. You're wet enough to welcome me." He drew you onto his lap, kissed your lips, and let you sit on his dick. He felt firm against your sensitive core, yet you both shared the same fire.

"Oh gosh."

"Doesn't it feel amazing? Imagine when  I'm inside." He bit your lower lip. "Up." A slap on the side of your hip.  "My Queen, you're going to ride me." He grasped the base of his member and guided it towards your entrance, causing you to moan as the tip brushed against your lips. "It'll hurt a little bit at first, but it'll feel so much better after a couple of minutes, okay?" Your gleaming eyes locked on his. He really wanted to corrupt you. He was going to love and please you for the rest of his life.  His other hand assisted you in lowering yourself.

As the tip penetrated you, you exhaled a nervous breath and hissed. Eddie was long and quite thick. Besides that, he wasn't entirely groomed. Some black curls curled above his member.

"Stings." You huffed, hands on Eddie's shoulders. He kissed your forehead instantly, delivering soothing words and placing his hands on your hips to lower you fully on him.

As motions came to a halt, you both gasped, mouths wide and breaths mingling. While Eddie felt the constriction around his cock, you felt full in ways you had never felt before. He was on the edge of bursting if he didn't settle down.

King Munson's gaze dropped from your mouth to your bosom. Eddie found your breasts so appealing that he nibbled on the skin as the corset pushed them upwards. "You're a fucking goddess." Moving forward caused him to jerk within you. "You're taking me so well." He urged you to move, which you did, causing both of you to whimper. Eddie kept nipping your breasts, sick of the corset, forcing it down so he could attach his lips on your left nipple, paying it attention before letting it go and loving on the other. While doing so, his hips clashed with yours, luring you to move faster. "It's so fucking wonderful. I swear you were created for me." His lips were tickling your chin as he spoke, his face incredibly near to yours. "You tighten around me so well and take every inch like the good girl you are."

You groaned aloud. How could he make you feel this way? You didn't appear to mind that hundreds of people were gathered in the castle to celebrate the fact that you two were now married. You didn't care, so you let Eddie take you into his office, sucking him in and burying himself in you. "This is surreal." You bounced on him, your chest bobbing up and down, hypnotising him.

"I'll fuck you like this every day, sweetheart." You cried so loudly. "When you wake up every morning," Thrust. "This is how I'm going to put you to sleep every night." Hickey on the side of your neck. "I'm going to fill you up and keep you warm." Pecks to the collarbone. "Make your little bud tingle." He squeezed your hips. "I'm going to bury myself deep in you in every corner of this palace and on every surface." He came to a halt by kissing you. Because of all the groans coming out of it, your mouth was already open, making it easy for him to slip his tongue into it. Tongues dance seductively against each other once more. Trying each other out. "How many babies do you believe you can give me?" You shivered at the thought of a huge belly and Eddie repeatedly fucking you. "Will you be able to take everything I give you?"

"Fuck yes, I will." You were on fire.

King Munson reclined in his chair. "You look gorgeous, sweetheart." Hips began to move erratically. Eddie's finger caressed your clit.

"Is this a dream?  I'm on my throne, and my Queen is on hers." A pinch on your clit had you groaning, gasping, and clawing him until you came undone.

"I'm going to cum, Eddie."

"Go, my Queen." He massaged your clit vigorously. "Cum." And you certainly did. Soaking wet all over your body, cloudy eyesight, and every muscle spamming. "Was it good?"

You nodded, attempting to catch your breath. "Didn't you cum?"

His head shook. "Y/N, get up." You grimaced but swiftly followed his instructions. "Chest against the desk. I'm going to fuck you and fill you from behind." You didn't have enough time to drop entirely against it when you felt his cock penetrate you, leaving you no time to adjust as he began hammering you, being close due to the previous session. "I'm not going to make it." He smacked you in the ass, leaving a mark from how hard he whacked it. He grunted and nibbled your neck as his chest leaned against your back. "You want it?" You whimpered and immediately nodded. "I'm going to fill you, my Queen. I wish you could view yourself from this angle." He was smirking. "I slipped a ring on your finger, and you slipped a ring on my cock." The combination of your fluids created a ring around his manhood. "Fuck." His thrusts grew lengthier and harder as he pulled your hair, and you felt the warm spurts filling you and driving you to your high once again.

The office door clicked at the same time, and Eddie, mercifully, was quick enough to throw your shredded skirts over you, hiding your entire body and face from whoever was about to enter. You couldn't see anything and couldn't be seen, but it was clear what Eddie was doing and with whom (you both had left the party).

Steve and Thomas stood at the entrance, their eyes wide open as they assessed the situation. Eddie, on the other hand, didn't appear to mind as he resumed plunging into you.

Steve's shirt was unbuttoned, and Thomas' pants were drooping. "Sorry, gentlemen, filled room; please find another." Steve tried to yank your brother away, but he was stunned, staring at Eddie, who merely grinned. "Are you planning on staying? Maybe we'll have twins. One for our Kingdom, and the other for Setsunai."

"You are a fucking bastard." Yes, and?  "Fuck you."

"I'm more into your sister: my wife and Queen, and I'm not sure I'm your type."

Taglist: @og-baby-ob14 @seaweedthewhale @spookeybabey @yuninha2004 @munsonology @bluegalaxyprime @qardasngan @juny567 @apolixyan @1-fuzzy-squirrels @impliedpetewentz @theawkwardbutterfly @chrisevansmarvelmcu @bakugous-babie @mlktea13 @tlclick73 @mikiepeach @d64d-n0t-sl66p1ng @lady-jane3

Those in bold; I cannot tag you.

[lady-of-the-spirit]

Thomas Sharpe is a great character because he sucks but also he's great and he's an abuse victim but also a perpetrator and he loved Edith but he was killing her and he felt guilt for what he did but not in time to save anyone else and if Edith stabbed him he would have deserved it but he did not deserve to be stabbed by his sister and he is trapped in a cycle of abuse and regret but he is also an active part in keeping the cycle turning

[lady-rose-moon]

My sweet Baronet

Summary: being married to Sir Thomas Sharpe had some... inconvenient setbacks but you are sure to worth through them with your husband.

Warnings: smut, mentioned incest, Lucille Sharpe, angst, mentions of grooming 🤢

A/N: come on, I love writing for Thomas, gimme a break!!

Allerdale was colder at night. You had to pull up the blankets to your chin to even feel a semblance of warmth. The house was falling apart and yet neither Thomas nor Lucille had paid for someone to repair it. You had offered to get the finest builders on the job but both had vehemently ordered that you not hire anyone. Then there were the ghosts that you kept seeing, they were always in your peripheral vision or disappeared just as you realised they were there. 

Thomas had always insisted that the ghosts were just your imagination but you knew that you saw them and you could see in your husband’s eye that he believed you. On the subject of your husband, he was once again not in your bed tonight. It was saddening that you were becoming used to being alone in the King sized bed when you fell asleep and awoke. 

You were fully awake tonight and decided that you would explore the crumbling mansion with your candelabra, the stray dog at your feet. Your bare feet pattered against the rotting floorboards as you walked along the floor that you were on. Thomas’s grand bedroom seemed to take up most of the floor but the other side was unfurnished as if all the furniture had been sold because of lack of use. 

Something urged you up the stairs, the hairs on your arm rising as you came up into the attic, hearing the soft song of a woman; Lucille. Dread pooled in your stomach as you edged closer to Lucille’s bedroom door and when you turned the knob and the door swung open, you were greeted with the sight of Lucille on Thomas’s lap, her hand down the front of his trousers and his mouth locked on her neck. 

You were so tempted to say something but before they could register that you had been there, you had closed the door again and swept down the stairs back into Thomas’s spacious bedroom. 

You began to pace the floor as you nibbled on one of your nails. They slept together. They loved each other. Thomas doesn’t love you. The recording tubes that you listened to, the photo of a baby, you realised now that the baby wasn’t Thomas’s with Enola, it was Lucille’s baby.

Nausea rose in your throat but you swallowed it down as you moved to sit on the windowsill and watch the snow fall. You were in a one-sided marriage. You loved Thomas more than anything, he had been there for you endlessly when your brother died, leaving you the heir to your family's fortune. 

You didn’t realise how long you were sitting on the sill until a soft pair of lips pressed to your forehead. Your eyes shifted from the freshly fallen snow to the alluring blue of your husband's eye, the eyes that had only been for Lucille all this time. 

“How long?” you whispered, feeling your husband falter in his stance, staring at you with a look of confusion.

“How long, what, my darling?” Thomas whispered, sitting on the sill in front of you, a frown playing at his lips when he saw how distraught you looked and he noted how you looked as if you hadn’t gotten a speck of sleep last night. 

You scoffed and looked back out of the window to the fallen snow, wishing you were as free as the snowflakes elegantly falling from the clouds. Instead, you felt like a wealthy caged bird inside the crumbling mansion belonging to your husband and his sister/mistress. “How long have you been fucking Lucille, Thomas?” you spat, meeting his gaze head on and you watched his eyes widen comically and his breath hitch, “how long?!”

Thomas released a breathy chuckle and stood from the sill, knowing you still had your eyes on him as he walked to his wardrobe and pulled out the day’s outfit. “I have no idea what you are talking about, dearest, Lucille is my sister,” the Baronet returned eventually, buttoning his shirt and looking over at you, registering the cold look in your eye and flinching away from it.

“Don’t play with pretty words, Baronet,” you sneered, rising from your seat and ignoring the ache in your rear from sitting as you approached your cheater of a husband, “I saw you in the early hours of this morning, her hand down your pants, you openly appreciating her neck. Don’t bullshit me, Thomas.”

“Such words, my love!” Thomas protested, his brows furrowing with worry.

“The Gods will pardon my words to you, husband! Avoiding my question will only prolong my blasphemy! Admit it and God shall forgive,” you countered, your arms crossing over your nightgown as you held his gaze. You weren’t afraid of the man before you even though you knew he had the power to kill you with his bare hands.

Thomas lowered his head and sighed, tears forming in his oceanic eyes as he whispered, “since I was young.”

The words struck you immediately and you stared at your husband incredulously, “since… since you were how young, Thomas?”

“Since I was a boy,” the Baronet whispered, raising his head to meet yours as his eyes glimmered with confusion, “don’t tell me you and your brother didn’t…”

You realised his implication and you were sickened by it. Not him, never him, but you were sickened of Lucille for manipulating the Baronet into thinking that incest was the done thing when children were young. “God no!” you protested quickly, watching Thomas’s eyes widen in surprise, “that is wrong, Thomas, sex between siblings is so very wrong indeed!”

“But… Lucille said…” Thomas trailed off, his eyes becoming distant as tears formed again and dripped down his cheeks. “Lucille said that it was how I showed my love for her,” he whispered at last, watching your face fall.

You stepped closer to your husband and cupped his cheek, watching him instantly lean into the warmth of your palm. “This is love,” you whispered, watching as his eyes struggled to meet your own, “my love for you is the real love here. Lucille was manipulating you for her own gain. If she slept with you, lost her flower then she would never have to marry.”

Thomas tensed and shook his head quickly as tears brimmed in his beautiful eyes. You hated watching him cry. He rarely did but after a night of running experiments on his machine and failing to get it running, he would seek you out and rant until he was in tears. In a reflex that you knew you would never get rid of, you reached up and wiped away his tears, watching the muscles in his face relax as he leaned into the contact. 

“What you have with her isn’t love,” you whispered, watching Thomas’s eyes flutter open to meet yours. You offered him a soft smile as you edged him backwards to the bed and smiled as he fell back onto the sheets, his eyes never leaving your own. “Let me show you what love is,” you pleaded, noticing how his breath hitched and felt as his cock took an interest.

You leaned your body down and began to pepper kisses down from behind his ear to the top of his half-buttoned shirt. The chest hair that was visible teased your lips as you pulled away.

“This isn’t love, either,” Thomas whispered, a frown playing on his thin lip.

“How can you be sure?” you whispered, your hand grazing over his trousers just enough for him to hiss from the contact. “Can you look me in the eye and tell me you don’t love me?” you questioned, fully prepared for his rejection. He loved Lucille. This was never to be.

Thomas hesitated before bringing your face to his gently and pressing a loving kiss to your lips. Your eyes fluttered closed and he followed quickly after. You quickly unbuttoned his shirt, your hands roaming over his chest and down his abdomen as you sat on his hips. The kiss was passionate and full of lust, unlike the sparse and quick pecks that he had given to you before. 

Thomas was breathless beneath you as you both devoured the taste of each other. You had missed feeling this electric excitement when you were near him, he had been so distant lately that you felt as if you would soon fall out of love with him too. You pulled away from his lips and whispered a faint, “please don’t divorce me.”

Thomas’s eyes slowly opened and met your own quickly in confusion. “Divorce you?” he whispered brokenly, his soft hands climbing up your thighs on either side of his lap, “why, by God, would I do that?”

“To resume your tryst with Lucille,” you replied simply, disgust lacing your tone as you spoke but you watched as Thomas quickly shook his head and captured your lips in his again. This kiss was slow, trusting and understanding. Thomas needed you to know that he loved you, depended on your love for him, obsessed over seeing your smile, needy to feel your bare skin against his own.

“No,” he murmured against your lips, his hands continuing their journey exploring your clothed body before he pulled the sleeping gown from your body and admired the body beneath. “No, I would never continue my tryst with Lucille,” he continued, his eyes locked with yours as his hands hesitantly explored, “not after you have opened my eyes.”

The Baronet’s hands held your waist and flipped you over onto the mattress, his strong body leaning over you as he heaved breaths, his pupils dilated and the evident arousal pressing against his trousers. “I crave you, sweet one,” Thomas whispered, one of his hands roaming over your body, cupping your breast and gently playing with one of your nipples with his thumb, “I crave to know how it feels to bring you into womanhood, to watch your face contort in such beautiful expressions of pleasure, to hear you scream to Heaven above that I am your husband, that I am yours, as I always should have been.”

You nodded eagerly and he smirked as he lowered his lips onto yours once more. You sighed between his lips and bit back playfully, your chest pressing up against his own, now naked, torso. Your fingers slithered up the sides of his neck and your nails wrapped themselves in the beautiful curls that surrounded his head like a halo. You pulled away for breath but didn’t let anything more than a second pass before you captured his lips again, one of your hands disentangling from his hair to slide down to his trousers, aiding him in pulling them off. 

Thomas groaned against your lips as he was now freed from the confinement of his pants. His hardened length was already swollen and red, greedily anticipating breaching you and claiming you. Before you could pull him closer, Thomas pulled himself from you and smirked as he whispered, “allow me to do something for us both, darling.”

You nodded shakily and watched as he left the bed, grabbed a cloth and covered the door handle and keyhole with it, nodding with satisfaction to himself before returning to you. Once he was back on top of you, he grabbed one of your legs and began to press open-mouthed kisses to your bare skin and he revelled in the way that you whined and arched up for him. He was so patient, so gentle, sucking marks into your skin all over and allowing you to feel so perfect.

“Are you ready?” he whispered gently, watching as your eyes met his and you nodded eagerly, your eyes fluttering shut when Thomas’s lips met yours. You had almost forgotten what was happening before you felt the hot tip of his cock press against your entrance and you whined into the kiss but Thomas pulled from your lips and pressed gentle kisses down your neck as he whispered, “it’s okay, I have you, baby,” and his cock gradually slipped inside. 

Once he was fully seated inside you, Thomas threw his head back in pleasure and released a throaty groan. He wasn’t surprised at your tightness, he fully enjoyed your nervous whimper and gasps, craving for him to move with half of your body but the other half needed a wait. Thomas slowly eased out of you and kissed away the pained expression that drew your brow together before he slowly thrust forward and savoured your pleasure-filled moan.

Minutes passed with him performing these small motions, of you keening beneath him and your legs beginning to wrap around his middle before you were ready and his thrusts increased. 

The feeling of his cock slowly increasing in speed made your heart flutter and electricity run throughout your body. You had needed this ever since you had first signed that marriage certificate. 

“Thomas,” you whined against him as the raven-haired Baronet cradled your head and his hips increased in their speed, his cock continuing to fuck you so deliciously well. He felt so perfect inside you and you knew that you needed this immediately, you couldn’t go another day without this. “I love you, mmnn, I love you, husband,” you whispered, feeling his cock twitch inside you at your confession.

Thomas pulled back and studied your eyes, trying to find the lie but when he found nothing but love, trust and lust, he smiled and pressed his lips quickly to yours before pulling back and whispering, “I love you too.”

Groaning, he pulled out to the tip before sinking back in and listening to your delighted moan at the motion so he proceeded to do it again and again, increasing the pace until he was pounding into you and bringing out feral moans from the back of your throat.

Your hands left his hair to grip at the sheets beside your head as your filter for noise was destroyed by the intoxicating feel of his cock bruising your insides repeatedly. The Baronet had to be carved by a sulptor, you thought as pleasure filled your mind, he was covered with a thin sheen of sweat and yet he still looked utterly handsome. 

Thomas’s hand fell to your eager clit and began to massage it slowly before gradually matching the pace to his thrusts, pushing you over the edge into utter oblivion. He didn’t leave you waiting long, however, as he came quickly behind you and moaned your name into the quiet air of the grand bedroom. 

Silence reigned in the room as you both came down from your highs and as Thomas cleaned you up, pressing light kisses to your legs as he cleaned your cunt of any of his seed that leaked out and your natural juices. 

When Thomas finally slipped into bed minutes later, you rolled over and draped your arm over his chest, your head fitting snugly in the crook of his neck. The sound of his heart pounding below his skin was oddly comforting and reassured you that he was your husband and you were his wife. 

“Thomas?” you whispered into the dark, earning a drowsy hum in reply, “what do we do about your sister?”

“What do you mean?” Thomas asked, his head shifting so he could easily look down at your head on his shoulder.

Your cheeks flushed and you looked away from him, “well, she probably heard all of this, what do we do?”

“I don’t care,” Thomas replied, pulling you into another soft kiss before rolling on top of you and claiming your lips. 

You eagerly accepted his kiss before his hand began to slip between your legs and you pulled away with a laugh, “Thomas, we just got clean!”

“Then I shall clean you again and again, my love, you shall never feel deprived of my love,” Thomas answered smugly, spreading kisses down your neck that turned your laughter into moans.

Just outside the door, Lucille Sharpe had planned 14,785,435 ways to kill you for stealing Thomas from her.

~~~~~~~~~~~

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[spiriteddreams]

Late Spring

Pairing: Kamisato Ayato x f!Reader Warnings: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort Word Count: ~2k A/N: ok so i wasn't planning on writing a part 2 but then i started writing this piece and i was like actually it kinda fits with "first loves" so i made it an unexpected part 2!

He had warned you that falling in love with him was a risk, that there would be nights he wouldn’t return and there would be days when clouds shifted over his features, darkening his eyes, pulling a scowl on his lips as he turns you away with sharp words. He had warned you with soft smiles and peeling laughter as you took his words as an empty warning, heeding no mind to the warning bells that had rung in the back of your mind. Because to you, at such a young age, love was real. And perhaps to him, it was real too.

It was sneaking you out of your home, laughter carried in the night breeze as you climbed down the peach tree that grew just outside of your window. The sticky sap that fell onto the branches would become glued to both of your hands as you rushed to the nearest stream to wash it off. It was two teenagers, blissfully caught in what one might call an innocent love as you shared secrets beneath the full moon and tucked plucked flower petals into each other’s hair. 

It was a first love, washed away through the seasons.

Now, locked away in his room, Kamisato Ayato pours over legal documents and correspondences with a straight face, unfazed by the list of items he needs to attend to, and the empty threats of men who are scrambling to cover up their wrongdoings. In the safety of his office, dimly lit by the candles that are quickly flickering out of life and the bright light of the moon, he finds himself staying up late, accompanied by no one other than his selfish pride and blanket that Thoma had offered to him hours ago, with tea that has now gone cold, half full and mocking from his desk.

He thumbs through the letters, eyes flicking past the scrawled handwriting of his name. He looks at the names of the senders, trying to find one of interest for him to look at for the rest of the night. Vendors, merchants, nobles—

To Kamisato Ayato

He recognizes your handwriting anywhere, can pick it out in a stack of letters as he imagines your shaky hands writing out his name. They wouldn’t be shaking if it was anyone else’s name, but he chooses to ignore that thought. Instead he runs his thumb over the parchment, dried ink brushed under his fingers, but he can still feel the indent of your pen pressing down on the paper. He’s careful to tear it open, his stare lingering on the imprinted wax seal of the Feiyun Commerce Guild. It stares up at him in mocking navy blue, a reminder of your departure just one year prior. The paper tucked within, clearly of Liyue origin, feels unnaturally smooth under his touch. Your handwriting starts neat at the top, his name, just his birth name, etched in pen so beautifully he wishes that you would write his name like that forever.

Ayato,

I hope this finds you in good health and that your sister and Thoma are free from your foolish antics. I am reaching out to you now to inform you that I will be returning to Inazuma in two months, just in time for the Irodori festival. I did receive your invitation and I apologize for such a late reply, but in a change of circumstances, I will be returning as an acquaintance of the author Zhenyu. As his friend, I will be taking it upon myself to see his smooth travels to Inazuma as well as ensure he is comfortable. I am hoping that you may be able to help with this.

I would also like to take this as an opportunity to reach out as an old acquaintance. I realize that this message may come at a time of stress and I sincerely hope that you will not be reading this in the middle of the night. Hopefully Thoma is keeping good on the promise he made when we were younger to ensure that you weren’t overworking yourself. All that aside, if you are not too busy, I hope to see you again at the festival when you will not be working. I trust that you will not be taking on the entirety of the planning by yourself, and perhaps this letter will encourage you to allow some others to take the burden off of your shoulders. 

There are some minor details I would like to discuss with you about the state of Inazuma, and my possible return. After all, my parents have been badgering me with responsibilities as the first daughter of the clan. Perhaps my time in Liyue will be coming to an end, or my sister will assume said responsibilities. Whatever it may be, I hope to speak with you before I come to make a decision.

I hope to see you soon.

Regards, (y/n)

Ayato allows himself to reread your words once more, suddenly aware of the exhaustion that has been creeping upon him. Yet he doesn’t want to put your letter down, as if he was afraid that it would burn up in front of his eyes, and the offer that you’ve made to him will be gone in an instant. One hand runs over his eyes, dragging down his face as he folds the paper back up and places it on the corner of his desk, opposite of the dying candle that’s begging to be blown out. He thinks of your words, thinks of the thoughtful expression that might’ve painted your face as you wrote the words in the middle of the night, just like him, accompanied with nothing but a dying candle, the moon, and a multitude of thoughts begging to be written down.

He shakes his head sharply, momentarily clearing his head of previous exhaustion and immediately sets to writing a response. He’ll be sly, of course, it’s in his nature to be, but sly enough to get his point across. That yes, he’d be delighted (moreso then he’ll let on in paper) to accompany you at the Irodori Festival. 

---------

“You look good.” Ayato gets whiplash at the words. Surprise momentarily flickers across his face as he’s suddenly brought back to the party he had hosted just a year prior, when he had approached you with high hopes, only to realize you had no intention to stay.

He clears his throat and offers you a charming smile, “How eloquent of you.” Your lips twitch at his words and he watches the way your eyes dim slightly. So you remember it too, the same night he had let himself be filled with hopes, only to realize that the time you had spent in Liyue was more fulfilling. You don’t let yourself become caught up in the memory, instead shaking your head and smiling at him. Formalities be damned, you think to yourself as you wrap your arms around him. Ayato stiffens for a moment, surprised by your sudden actions, but he finds that his body quickly melts into yours, arms finding solace wrapped around your frame. You’re wearing blue, the same blue of the Kamisato Clan, wrapped in a silky kimono that’s perfect for the occasion. He ignores the delicately embroidered crest of the Feiyun Commerce guild that decorates the silk, reminding himself that you’re not only here to visit him, but also on behalf of the young author, who he’s rather pleasantly surprised to find shares a sibling-like relationship with you.

“Liyue has been treating you well, no?” He pulls away first, hating that he’s always been the one to be putting distance between the two of you, after all, his stubbornness and unrelenting pride was the reason for you both to end up going separate ways, was it not? He ignores the thoughts, knowing if he brought it up you’d snap at him to stop and try to claim some responsibility.

You smile, bigger than he’s ever seen you smile and he hates that he feels butterflies erupt in his chest. “Oh it’s wonderful, it’s so beautiful and everyone is so nice!” He stays quiet as you ramble on about your adventures and the work you’ve been doing, trying to push away the thought you might really be leaving him for good.

“And what about you?” You tilt your head, casting a glance towards the crowd of people that have come to admire what the festival has to offer. “It looks as if Inazuma is slowly rebuilding herself, after a year of finally being open. I’m happy to see it again.” The Yashiro Commissioner takes a glance at the lively scene, but finds himself being drawn back to you. He can’t help but let his mind scream out that you’re different. Not in a bad way, but he’s afraid he doesn’t quite recognize you. You stand taller, shoulders pulled back and hands clasped over one another, as if you’d continued practicing such mannerisms of politeness all while in Liyue. And yet there’s an air to relaxation around you as you offer him such warm smiles and poke at his arm when he doesn’t answer.

“With collaboration from the Tri-Commission, everything, for the most part, has been going smoothly.” He nods, “Your family has been a great help, offering to help whenever they can.” You roll your eyes, a fond smile crossing your features as you turn to face him once more.

“You do know why they’re so eager to help, right?” Ayato wishes he could cockily say he does, but in all honesty, he hadn’t even batted an eye to your family’s offer to help. Your families had always been rather close, so it wasn’t unusual for one another to lend a hand, and yet you seemed to find the whole ordeal rather amusing.

He clears his throat, “I can’t say I do.”

You look at him with raised brows as if you’re surprised that he, Kamisato Ayato, can’t figure out someone’s scheming. He resists the urge to pinch your cheeks at your silly expression. “They hope that you’ll convince me to stay.” Reality hits him in the face. Right. You might be leaving. 

“Let me court you,” Ayato breathes out, heart pounding in his chest. You lean back slightly at his sudden words, blinking rapidly as if trying to process what he had said. “Let me court you, please. Give me one more chance to convince you to stay in Inazuma, to stay with me.” He doesn’t care how desperate he may sound at the moment, all he wants is for you to stay. 

You stare at him. And he feels his heart might break.

“Okay.” Such a small response, so simple and fragile that it might break in front of the two of you if you made any sudden movements. You’re not quite sure what to say, taken aback by his sudden confession as you watch his shoulders drop and his face fall into relief, even if he’ll cockily deny it in the future. You won’t tell him that you’ve already made the decision to stay, that when you first saw him again for the first time in a year, matured after more time away and having come to a better understanding of the storm that had brewed over his family that left him scrambling, that you’ve chosen to stay. Liyue might be beautiful, with towering mountains and melodies sung amongst flower fields, but to you, it’ll never compare to Inazuma. With her sakura scented breeze and childhood memories, first loves and plucked flower petals in blue hair, the midnight breeze and sweet peach tree that bloomed in late spring, along with the rebuilding of a first love between you and Kamisato Ayato.

reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! <3 a/n: literally so stressed rn and yet i'm writing fanfics bc i desperately needed a break from school work yayyy