#and i am at the opposite side of my parents house trying not to get anyone else sick

[silens-oro]

Hold on to the Thread (Well Enough Alone Companion Piece)

Not all fics have adult content, but this blog is 18+. Andrew "Pope" Cody x f!Reader (nicknamed Hawk) Prologue Cut the Loss (companion piece) Part I Part II Chicken Hawk (companion piece) Part III Part IV Trespassing (companion piece) Part V Part VI Slowly We Unfurl (companion piece)

Masterlist Pope Cody Playlist

Title Credit: Oceans by Pearl Jam

General Synopsis: Hawk and Pope have a discussion regarding kids of their own. Word Count: 1.4k Content Warning: talks of having kids & pregnancy. Spoilers for A Cure for Wellness? AN: I am child-free to the bone, but Pope does something to me, man. I'D CONSIDER IT FOR A BRIEF SECOND IS ALL I'M SAYING 🫢 please comment & reblog :)

“She’s seven. You put her in front of a TV all day. Maybe she’s trying to get your attention.” Pope pointed out like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Got any other parenting tips for me, man?” Baz asked rhetorically, but Pope -in Pope fashion- still answered him.

“Yeah, I know kids don’t like it when you scream at them.”

“You know what, Pope? Why don’t you figure out your own shit before telling me how to raise my kid?” Baz snapped.

“Her mother left and you’re banging some woman she’s never seen before in her mother’s bedroom. It’s not Lena’s fault that your girlfriend doesn’t like your kid, Baz.” It was harsh, but it needed to be said.

“You don’t know shit and you never will.” Baz said defensively. “Do you get that? No one's ever gonna have a kid with you. You think Hawk wants that? Give me a break, man. She already raised Julia’s kid. You think she wants to raise yours too?” She’s raising yours, Pope wanted to say, but knew it wouldn’t help anything. If anything, Baz would cut his time with Lena out of spite, so he kept his mouth shut. 

“Come on, Lena. Let’s go.” Was the only thing Pope ground out in response before escorting his niece out to his truck.

Pope would never outright express it to anyone, but what Baz said earlier in the day really bothered him. The thought lingered, burrowing itself in him like a parasite that couldn’t be removed. Hawk could tell Pope was stuck in his head as they lounged on the couch, watching some horror movie where a young stockbroker went to a wellness facility in the Swiss Alps to bring his company’s CEO back to New York. There were eels involved. It was…a lot. 

When he came back to the house with Lena earlier in the afternoon, he was off. He brushed off any of Hawk’s attempts to get him to talk, so she gave him his space. He’d talk to her when he was ready. Now that Lena had been put to bed for the night, they decided to throw a movie on and relax, but Pope was doing the opposite of relaxing and that in itself was not letting Hawk relax.

Pope’s hand had been absentmindedly rubbing Hawk’s waist, then moving over to her stomach where he’d lay his palm flat against it for a while, moving up or down ever so slightly just below her belly button, before going back to her waist. The more she noticed it, the weirder it felt because he kept doing it as the movie went on when that wasn’t something he did previously. 

“You alright?” Hawk tilted her head up from her spot notched in his side as he brought his hand to her stomach once again. This time she raised a brow at him. 

“Fine,” Pope’s voice was clipped and he cleared his throat, breaking free of whatever was going on in his head. He looked down at Hawk then back to the movie. His other hand tapped on the sofa’s armrest, a tick Hawk picked up on that he had when something wasn’t quite right. “Is that an eel?” Pope asked, his face scrunching at the screen.

“There’s been eels, Andy. They’ve been in the water and now they’re growing inside of the patients. Where have you been for the last hour?” She asked with a laugh, not wanting to stir the pot, but definitely wanting to know what was going on with him. He got a pained look on his face and Hawk knew right then that something was bothering him. Hawk grasped the hand on her stomach in hers and held it up to her chest, tenderly kissing his forearm. “Something’s up with you. You can talk to me.” She encouraged softly.

“I don’t want to scare you off.” Hawk wanted to laugh so badly at that, but she knew that if she did -not with the intention of being mean about it- he’d close up like a goddamn clamshell. So she kept it in, biting her lip to ground herself so it didn’t slip out accidentally. 

“You won’t. I promise.” He analyzed Hawk for a moment before nodding to himself. She gave him all the time and patience to gather his thoughts so he could say what he wanted to say and how he wanted to say it. 

“Have you ever thought of…having kids of your own?” He intentionally left the ‘with me’ out of the equation. He didn’t look at Hawk when he asked it, feeling much too vulnerable at the question even leaving the confines of his mind. Hawk blinked, not expecting that to be what was bothering him, but the question combined with his handsy mannerisms that night suddenly made total sense to Hawk. 

“I don’t know,” She shrugged, her fingers playing with Pope’s. “I think at one point maybe I had the urge, ya know? Right after J started going to school. I missed having him with me all the time and the thought did cross my mind, but I was nowhere near a stable enough relationship with anyone to even consider it. But it’s been a long time since I felt that way.” 

“Would you ever reconsider it?” His voice was so quiet, like he was afraid if it was any louder, it would shatter the confines of the conversation. He tried to sound blasé, like her answer wouldn’t bother him one way or the other, but he had to know. Baz’s voice rang over and over in his head and it was eating him alive from the inside out. 

Hawk felt Pope’s stomach clench and the arm he had around her twitched in her hold. She only held onto him tighter to let him know she wasn’t running from the conversation. 

“I feel like I’m a little late in life for that now,” Hawk answered honestly. “-but I’m not completely closed off to it. There are some aspects to pregnancy that scare the shit out of me though. I was there when Julia had J and both pregnancy and childbirth are…traumatizing.” 

“Women your age have kids all the time.” Hawk shifts on the sofa, looking up at Pope with curiosity in her eyes. “You’re not old by any means.” He pushed and winced again when he realized how that sounded. Hawk squeezed his hand to let him know that he was fine.  

“What’s got you so worked up about kids? Do you want them?” She didn’t ask him in a judgmental way, merely out of genuine curiosity. They’ve never broached the subject, but his shift with Lena, and J in more recent times, was noticeable to her. Very much so. 

“I used to think a kid didn’t deserve a father like me and the fucked up life I would give them. They didn’t deserve what I would pass on to them, this shit I have in my head. I don’t wish that on anyone, much less someone who didn’t ask to be here.” Pope spoke from experience, Hawk knew.

“Both of my parents had no business having a kid, not with what they had going on, but maybe…if the kid was only half of me," Half of the crazy, is what he implied, and Hawk didn't care for that one bit. "-then they’d have a better chance, you know? If their mom was normal, then they’d be able to have a normal life.” Hawk felt her heart break at Pope’s admission. She brought his hand up to kiss the back of it affectionately. “I’ve thought about all the things I missed with Lena when I was locked up.” The baby years, Hawk said mentally. “And I think about what it would be like to hold something so small that was a part of me. Something good I’ve given to the world.” And a part of you, he wanted to say. “To love them so much and to watch them grow. Do things with ‘em that my dad never did with me. Give them a life that I never had. Being with you and Lena, it’s opened my eyes to what we could have -what we could’ve had this whole time. If that’s something you’d even want.” We, Hawk’s heart skipped when he finally said it. He tacked on that last bit when the vulnerability became too much and the self consciousness set back in. 

“We’ll, I’ll tell you this -I’m not against it, but we are still in the early stages of this relationship. Let this thing grow some roots, focus on Lena and J for the time being, and then we’ll revisit this conversation, alright?” Pope looked down at her, his eyes a little glassier and his cheeks flushed just enough for Hawk to notice in the dim living room, and he nodded. “Come here,” She pulled him down gently by the front of his shirt so her lips could meet his.

please comment & reblog :)

[leyavo]

| I am my father’s daughter |

💖 Dad!Price x Daughter!reader, eventual Soap x reader

PART FIVE: John Price hasn’t seen or heard from his daughter in over a year, but that changes when she calls him one night asking for help. 2,908words

TW: hurt/angst/mentions of abuse/ complicated father-daughter relationship

Previous parts > [Series Masterlist]

🔈Reader’s view of John is different, he’s come and gone in her life etc so she thinks he’s not that great. So don’t send me hate

The whirring heater on John's desk blew a cloud of dust in his face as he flicked it on. He didn't know when it had last been used, the halogen bulb glowing orange, blinding him. The small cubicle office they'd assigned him looked like it hadn't been touched in over a decade. Thankfully it had been dusted, a little musty, nothing a cracked window couldn't solve.

The autumn weather dropped considerably the past week and John still couldn't wrap his head around the fact that you didn't have a proper coat. His fleece lined and cord jacket weighing you down, but you wore it with no complaints. He tried to search your bag, but you interrupted him before he could figure out what size in clothes you were. Every one needed a thick coat for the autumn, winter. A staple in the wardrobe, something to pull out every year.

Now that he thought about it, you didn't complain about much. Definitely nothing like your mother, she enjoyed picking fights with him over anything and everything. Not that he'd compare you much, you're your own person. You’re an adult now and he’s starting to feel like he isn't needed, but that’s when parents are needed most, right?

Doesn’t matter how old you are, he wants to help.

A knock sounded on the other side of the door, the person however didn't wait for a response to enter. Kyle walked in, dropping to the seat opposite the captain. He winced, shifting in the hard plastic chair trying to get comfy.

"Little early for our meeting later," John grumbled, gaze flitting to the clock on his computer screen. He picked up the chipped mug and sipped the warm coffee.

"Well, Toff passed Si on her way in and gave him a bag of interview clothes. He's been roped into being a fashion advisor," Kyle chuckled, finger prodding Price's name plate back into the centre of the desk.

John eyed the clock again, two hours till your interview and five till the meeting with Laswell. “And you left him?” John’s brow raised, smile tugging his lips.

That John had to see, he logged out of the computer and rose from his seat, tugging the fleece draped over the armrest. He’d woke a few hours earlier to clear some of his work and have the hour to take you to your interview. You were going to take the bus, which took a lot of convincing for you to give in and let him drive you. There was no way he'd leave you waiting around.

“Maybe you should ask him for some pointers too,” Kyle said, dodging the stress ball flying at his head. "Still at the res' house before Laswell's?" He called over his shoulder, chair tipping onto its back legs as he tried to catch John's gaze.

"Yep, don't be late," John snapped, pushing the back of Kyle's head and setting the chair back on the floor with him. "You boys got everything."

"All set Cap."

Nodding, John shrugged on his fleece and readjusted the knitted fisherman's hat under his hood. The rain lashing against the windows didn't deter him as he pushed the emergency doors open. A group of sergeants acknowledged him, but he didn't stop to chat like he usually would. He flashed his military pass at the gate, squeezing through the gap instead of waiting for it to slide open and allow him entry.

The cluster of houses all the same, red brick exterior and dark wood doors. Thick blocked pavement slippery under his boots, he rushed down the pathway and unlocked the front door. Your voice echoed through to the porch, soft and light as you asked questions.

John inched round the corner, hanging back to take in the moment. You were holding up two belts in your hands and asking Simon which one would be better. Simon's head tilted up at the ceiling, his arm hung off the back of the sofa. You might as well have been talking to the void. He was surprised Simon was still there.

"Never mind, the black is the probably the safest. You're not very good at this," you muttered to yourself, too focused on pulling the belt through the loops of your suit trousers. "I should tuck my shirt in, right?" You glanced to Simon, shaking your head as you realised he wouldn't give you any input.

"Tucked in, Kiddo," John said, sitting on the edge of the arm of the sofa. The bag of clothes that Toff had given you were more than enough, four different suit bags filled with matching pieces. You'd chosen the simplest one, navy straight leg trousers and a crisp blue shirt. A blue pin striped blazer slung on the coffee table. He'd have to thank Toff later.

Simon muttered a thank fuck under his breath, his gaze sliding to John's. He stood from the sofa, walking to the kitchen and flicking the kettle on.

John turned back to you. You buttoned up the blazer, only to undo it and throw a satchel over your shoulder. Something Toff said you could keep, the worn leather had seen her through university and she hoped it'd hold out for you too.

"Ready," you said, standing in front him. You glanced at the watch on your wrist, "takes like, twelve minutes to drive there."

The loafers on your feet are shiny, Prada badge telling him that those too were borrowed from Toff. Maybe he'd be able to take you shopping for a few bits, if and when you got the job. Or just give you his credit card and you order it all.

"Thanks Simon," you said as you passed him on the way out, he raised his cup of tea to you and retreated to his bedroom.

John couldn't get over how grown up you looked, he kept glancing at you and you raised a brow at him, as if you thought he was judging your attire. "Come on, let's get a move on," he said, unlocking the trucks door and opening it for you.

You shifted in your seat, smoothing out the creases in your trousers and pulled the seatbelt, clipping it at your side. The satchel on your shoulder rested on your lap, fingers playing with the buckles on the front.

The truck started on the third turn of the key, the colder weather making the engine stutter, but it always started. Your grip on your bag loosened and your eyes flitted to each road sign and street John drove by.

The passenger window rolled down, glass panel screeching as you turned your face towards the rush of wind entering the truck. Your leg bounced up and down, lips moving silently as if you’re practicing a script for the interview.

“You’ll be alright kiddo. A firm handshake and clear speech, all you need.”

Exhaling, you draped your arm out of the open window. "Can we not," You mumbled, hand pushing against the cool breeze. "I don't wanna talk."

He didn't take it to heart, you were always a quiet kid. John would have to sit in silence till you were ready to speak. A little hand holding onto his pointer finger, head leant against his arm as if you didn't want him to leave again. Each time he came back from an op, it was like you knew he needed grounding and the weight of your touch reminded him that he was a father. Sometimes you'd sit beside the couch by his boots and watch tv with him until you warmed up to him again and climbed into his lap.

Never allowed in their bed because of his nightmares, no you self soothed probably as you never knocked on your parents door. The only time you sobbed into his chest was when he had to return to work, his sleeve twisted in your grasp as he tried to climb into his truck. He tried not look in the mirror as he drove away, didn't want to see you still watching him disappear for who knows how long.

Your mother used to make him stay at the base till his wounds had healed, blaming him for scaring you the one time he came home battered and bruised. John hadn't shown up like that ever since, afraid to cause you any harm.

In some ways he can still see that little girl. Hesitant to reach out, as if you're trying to figure out the kind of man he is now. John doesn't blame you for it, not after he picked you up that night. Not after he found out the type of guy you'd been living with. The thought alone is enough to anger him, but he shoves it down. That's the last thing you need, rage and violence.

John parked in the nearest space, cutting the engine and flinging his seatbelt off. "Good luck, Kiddo."

Forty, fucking minutes you were in the building. You jabbed the down button and waited for the lift. The thumping in your head chipped away, eyes squinting as the metal doors opened and your vision flooded with the harsh florescent lights of the lift. You'd spent the last fifteen minutes staring at a computer screen and filling out test spreadsheets and doing bloody maths.

The lady that interviewed you looked like military. Her hair scraped back so tight it gave her facelift, the pant suit she wore tailored to the curves of her body and clung to the defined muscles of her biceps and calves. You found yourself calling her Ma'am, sitting up straight in your seat and looking her in the eye.

You stared out at the carpark, hoping that you'd be using it soon. The wound on your back burnt, your hand patting the area as you tried to stop the itching sensation rubbing against the scab. You shrugged off the pin stripe blazer and draped it over your arm, the cool cotton shirt light against your shoulder blades. The less weight on you the better.

The mirror beside you highlighted every flaw, the yellow lighting drew out the scar above your brow. Deep rims under your eyes as if they'd been carved there and would never go away. You pressed your finger to the spot, nose scrunching up at your reflection. You tried not to look too long, never were one to look in the mirror.

Another reminder of everything. Another mark to remind you.

Stepping out of the lift you're met with the same receptionist, her head nodding and smile pulling her lips. You handed over your guest I.D and signed your name out, waiting for the security guard to buzz you out.

The cold hits you, but you don't bother slipping on your blazer. The drop of temperature soothing your aching body. You preferred the cold, always easier to make yourself warmer. Walking around the side of the building, you had to do a double take. Your dad's brown truck still parked at the side of the road.

You slowly walked to the truck, the captain too engrossed in the newspaper spread across the steering wheel. A take away coffee cup in one hand and a croissant in the other. As you crept closer you could see the flakey crumbs in his moustache, the sports radio a dull hum of presenters talking about some football league. His window rolled half down, he probably smoked whilst he was waiting for you.

"You're still here," You blurted out, "I mean don't you have work or something to do?"

The Captain didn't even flinch, he folded the newspaper and stuffed the half eaten croissant back into the paper bag, dropping it into the centre console. He leant over to unlock the passenger door, pushing it open as you rounded the truck.

"Don't you worry about that, Kiddo," he said, waving his hand in the air and sipping his coffee quickly before placing it back in the cupholder. "Coffee and a pastry there for ya." He dabbed his face with the scratchy tissue, crumbs falling into the newspaper which he tucked into the side of the door.

The interior reeked of tobacco, another pine tree air freshener dangling from the rearview mirror. As if that would make a difference when the Captain smoked like a chimney. There's still an underlying smell of old spice, the same old aftershave that you used to mix in the sink when he was still living with you and your mum.

"Uh, thanks." You're still getting used to the small stuff, the little things your dad gives you without you even asking. You pick up the paper cup and lift the lid, a sweet aroma escaping with it.

The car stuttered to a start, indicator ticking away. The Captain glanced to you, "caramel, you still like that?" He says it like you change your mind weekly, but who are you to turn down a free coffee? Or whatever pastry he's just dumped into your lap.

You don't even know the last time someone had bought you something. It's been ages since you've had the money to buy yourself a coffee let alone be given one.

"Yeah, I still like caramel." Of course you do, he used to bring you caramel chocolates every time he visited when you were a kid, the only reason you liked it so much. It's not till now that you realise it.

The car ride back to base is silent, thankfully the Captain's figured out you aren't one for small talk. Nothing but the football stats blaring through the speakers, the tick of the indicator with each turn. You can't wait to change out of the formal clothes and hide out in your dad's room until the house is empty whilst they're at their meeting.

The Captain swore under his breath as his sacred team's dropped down the league table, finger switching the radio to some classic rock station. You bit your lip trying to muffle the laughter, but his gaze swept to yours, hand squeezing your knee. Another thing he used to do to you as a kid, a yelp leaving your lips. You rubbed the spot, swatting his hand away as he tried to go for another.

You don't wait for the truck to roll to a stop, flinging the door open and slamming it behind you. The Captain calling after you, muffled voice telling you not to slam the bloody door. You're not too bothered though, the safety of the front door in your reach, but it's snatched away as you set foot in the porch.

The guys are all huddled in the kitchen, Simon stirring something in the pot over the cooker. Kyle setting the table and Johnny's leaning against the counter tasting what ever's on the spoon. So much for eating in the canteen.

A hand landed on your shoulder, "Why don't you get changed and we'll have some dinner. The boys made stew," the Captain said, giving you a light push towards his room.

You nod, not quite sure why they're all having dinner so early, but you don't question it. Their laughter and voices echoed down the hallway, Simon asking Johnny to speak English another round of laughter erupting. You shred the suit and chuck on some comfy clothes, slipping back out.

Just like everything else, they move in sync with each other. Like a family would, well that's what you've seen in movies. You sink into the chair beside the Captain, staring at the placemat and cutlery set in front of you. Everything mismatched, the weight of the knife and fork different.

The guys took their seats at the table, Kyle stood over the casserole dish in the middle with a ladle in hand. "Anything you don't like?" Kyle said, ladle paused above your bowl before he adds all of the food to it.

You shook your head, "I'm not fussy." It was food at the end of the day, you weren't going to turn down a warm home cooked meal. Soft beef, carrots, potato and dumplings swimming around the casserole dish. Kyle served up three spoonfuls and placed your bowl in front of you.

Apparently Kyle's the designated person when it comes to dishing up equal proportions, but he gave you extra according to Johnny. Another reason they go to the canteen on base, so they can help themselves to food and not worry about sharing. That and the convenience of going whenever they've got the time.

"So how'd it go?" Johnny asked between bites, he sucked in a breath trying to counter the heat of the food in his mouth. His spoon already digging for the next load.

"I think it went well, won't hear back for a couple days," you replied, pushing the dumplings around in the stew.

Simon's elbow knocked into your arm, your spoon clanging back into your stew. You're squeezed between him and your dad, both of them invading your space. He doesn't say anything, just dropped a dumpling into your bowl instead of an apology. pointing his fork as if to tell you eat up.

“I’m sure you’ll get it,” Johnny said, scraping the last bits of his food off his bowl. “How about you help me clean this up?”

You nodded piling up all the stuff the on the table and dumping it in the sink. Maybe staying here wasn’t so bad after all.

[PART SIX]

✨ Thanks for reading I hope you enjoyed it :) there might be some errors/mistakes as I'm dyslexic, I do check my work a couple times, but I do miss bits and pieces - Leya

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(Some of the tags wouldn't work so sorry if I didn't tag you. If you would like to be added just let me know)

[megs-1800]

hi i love your fics and may i request something angst about mason's family don't like his relationship with y/n and they also dislike y/n because they think she's not good for mason (she's not an influencer, just a private girl and not from a wealthy family). i wanna know how mason react to that, will he decide to break up or keep their relationship

thanks in advance and you don't have to reply to this x 🤍

Getting Them To Like Me

Note: Please keep sending in your requests and hope you like it!

Summary: Mason's family are not your biggest fans. When you go on a family holiday with the, Mason's Ex girlfriend shows up, who Mason's family love. How will Mason react to all the drama? Will this make or break your relationship?

Pairing: Mason Mount x Reader

Word Count: 5.5k

Warnings: Suggestive Themes, Angst, Fluff

“What happens if they don’t like me?” I turn to Mason as he has his eyes on the road. I let myself admire him for a couple of seconds longer then I should. He is just perfect in everyway. He drifts his eyes from the road and meets mine “babe they are going to love you, what isn’t there to love about you?” he gives me a reassuring smile. I can still feel the anxiety overwhelming me. Mason and I have been dating for 6 months, its completely new and being with Mason has turned my whole life upside down. It was a life that I never knew. I just work my boring admin 9-5pm job and had my side hustle as a hair dresser. Me and Mason met in a café opposite my office, he had a hoodie on with his hood up and was one in front of me. He went to pay for his coffee but realised he left his wallet in the car, I have had a bad morning and not in the mood to wait so I just agreed I would pay for it so I could get the line moving. Turned out he was having a meeting using one of the office room downstairs so we got chatting in the hallway, one thing lead to another and here we are. I wasn’t ready to meet Mason’s family yet, he had met mine and of course they loved him but meeting his was a whole other level. It is his sister Jaz’s birthday next week so Mason insisted I attend with him to his parents to have dinner to celebrate. I have never been more nervous.

We pulled up outside their house and I can feel my heart beating in my chest I just want to be sick. Mason can sense my nerves as he rubs his hand into mine as we stand outside trying to calm my nerves. Mason’s mum Debbie opens the door and quickly embracing Mason in a hug “Oh I didn’t realise you were bringing company. Whose this?”  Mason moves out the way to let me inside, Mason rolls his eyes. “I did tell you I will be bringing y/n. I told you about her months ago. But Mum meet y/n. Y/N meet my mum Debbie” he gestures. Debbie remains still and just gives me a smile. “Oh yeah I remember now. Nice to meet you Y/N” it sounded like she didn’t really mean it but I am just putting it down to nerves.

Mason leads me into the living room where Jaz, Mila, Summer, Lewis and his dad Tony are all sitting. They all quickly get up and hug Mason and look awkwardly at me. Mason gestures for me to sit down as all of them sit down and introduces them all to me. Mila and Summer are climbing all over Mason “uncle Masey who is this?” as they point at me. Mason gives them a big grin and says “this is my new girlfriend y/n” it gives me butterflies when he calls me that, we have only just started calling eachother boyfriend/girlfriend. It sounds childish but I love when he calls me his girlfriend. “Hey Y/N!” both Mila and Summer say in unity and wave.

I allow all of them to chat and I am just sat there smiling and engaging in conversation the best I can, I feel invisible though. It feels like I am not even there. Debbie calls to say lunch is ready and we all go sit and begin to eat. I feel extremely uncomfortable as I am picking up the vibe in the room, Mason places his hand on my thigh to try and reassure me, he must sense the vibe too. Tony turns to me “So tell us y/n what do you do?” all eyes are suddenly on me and I can feel myself going red. “I am a manager just for a little admin company in the city. I also have my own little hair dressing business on the side.” They all nod confirming they are listening to what I am saying. Debbie speaks up “so have you had more clients now they know you are dating Mason” I am a bit taken back by the comment and I can see Mason shoot daggers at her which I am quickly to reply for my defence, “Actually Mason and I are keeping our relationship under the radar at the moment so only family and close friends are aware”. Debbie gave me a small scoff in response and we all continued eating.

I whispered to Mason that I needed the loo and he told me where it was, as I escort myself I stand at the entrance and listen to what they have to say. “Why are you all being so rude!” I hear Mason shout but I can tell he is still trying to keep his voice low so I don’t hear. “I don’t know what you are talking Mason. We are just asking her questions to show our involvement?”  Debbie tried to act innocent. That’s when I hear Jaz but in “we are just trying to look at for our baby brother Mase. Come on she is not famous, she doesn’t have a high end job. She is nothing really special Mase are you really trying to tell me she is with you just for love? Like your job and lifestyle had no factor in her getting with you. Come on Mase, you are blind when it comes to love, you cannot generally believe she loves you for you, come on look at this from our side”. Mason doesn’t reply and that’s my queue to come back inside. Its awkward for the rest of the dinner, and not much more is said.

On the way home me and Mason are sat in silence and all that could be heard is the small sound of the radio playing. I look over at Mason “they hate me don’t they?”

“They don’t hate you they just haven’t been given the chance to know you. They are just protective of me that’s all”.

I look at Mason as I know he is just truing to play devils advocate but still “Mason I heard what they said. They don’t want us together.” With this Mason pulled over at the side of the road and took his hand in mine. “Well I want us together and that’s all that matters” and he places a small loving kiss to my lips. I can feel myself smiling into this kiss, I love how he is protecting me.

A couple of weeks have passed since that lunch, Mason has been a little distant but I put it down to us both being busy. Its date night and Mason arranged for me to come round and agreed he would make dinner. I put some flared trousers on and tucked in a nice top so I was casual but still nice enough for the date. As I walk through the door Mason greets me “that smells amazing” I say as he gives me a kiss. “well I got a surprise for you. I wanted to wait until after dinner but I just couldn’t wait” .

I smile at him and bring him closer “oi oi” I wink provocatively. Mason pulls away and giggles “no not like that. That’s for after dinner” he raises his eyebrows teasing. I follow him into the kitchen and perch on one of the stools at his breakfast bar whilst he stands the other side. “Sooo how do you feel about going to Mykonos?” I look at him in disbelief. I jump across the counter and wrap my arms around him “yes yes yes! I would love to go”. Mason leans down and places his lips onto mine. I have never been so excited, going to Mykonos with the love of my life. Life couldn’t get better.

I was on cloud 9 for weeks after that, starting holiday prepping and I was on good vibes. That’s when Mason had to break to me that it wasn’t just us 2 going away and that his whole family would be going away with us. I was now dreading it, I know they don’t like me so its going to be completely awkward. I agreed to meet Mason at the airport as I didn’t want to do the silent car ride with his family. As I arrived I see Mason wave over to me, as I make my over he wraps his arms around me “hey baby” he whispers into my ear. “Hey y/n how you doing?” his mum questions and gives me a small hug. “I am good thank you Mrs Mount how are you? I am excited to go away with you all.” I say nervously. She pulls away “oh please call me Debbie we are all excited to get to know you better”. She winks as she walks away, I look at Mason with a confused look he leans down to my ear as he wraps his arms round my side “I told them to go easy on you”. I gave Mason a massive smile knowing I can try and enjoy the holiday.

The first couple of the days are bliss, Mason’s family are making a complete effort and trying to get to know me. I am having a much needed shower before getting ready for dinner, Mason walks into the bathroom “damn you are beautiful” in which he makes me blush “I might have to join you” which he winks and starts to undress. I quickly turn the shower off and get out “Uh uh we got dinner we haven’t got time for this”. Which I feel Mason pout into the kiss. I decide to wear a long white Maxi Co-Ord which the skirt has a slit up the side showing leg. I look in the mirror and make the final touches to my hair. I feel Mason wrap his arms around my waist “you are the most beautiful girl in the world” I watch in the mirror as he places small open kiss to my neck, I feel myself relax into him as I left out a small moan in response to the kisses. “I’m the luckiest girl in the world” I rely turning around and continue to kiss Mason’s lips. I pull away a let out a small giggle as my lipstick is now smudged over his lips, I use my thumb to wipe it off. “I love you, you know that” I respond. Mason then kisses me again “I love you more”.

We start to walk down the street towards the restaurant for dinner, Mason and I are walking in front of everyone hand in hand. I hear a snap and then Lewis shouts over “you two are so cute!” I can feel myself blush as he shows me the picture he took. “That’s so cute, send that to me!” which Lewis nods in agreement.

We sit down for dinner which overlooks the sea, it looks incredible and looking over at other tables the food looks like its to die for. We are all chatting away when a women walks over to our table, she is wear a tiny mini dress and looks drop dead gorgeous. She looks incredible, she looks like a Victoria secret model, I feel like I have seen her before but I cannot place it.

Tony stands straight up and brings her into a tight hug “Rebecca darling how are you doing?!” I watch as her face lights up as they engage in small conversation and Debbie hugs her and goes to get another chair. I look at Mason and his face drops “who is that?” I ask but he doesn’t respond. The girl now speaks “I am so sorry I am late guys its been one hell of a travel over here, one of my shoots overran so I missed the flight with you guys, then my next flight was cancelled, then they thought I lost my luggage it was such a hell of a ride but I am glad I am here now”. I watch as Debbie reaches over and rubs her wrist. Who is this woman?

Debbie is next to speak “So Becks where are you staying?” I watch as the woman takes a sip of her drink she ordered moments ago. “Oh Debs don’t even get me started! When I arrived at my hotel they said they don’t even have my booking. I guess I wasn’t the best at arranging these, I use to leave that all upto him”. Which they all laugh at, well apart from Mason. I am still looking around confused. “Well we have a spare room in the villa you are more then welcome to stay. I am sure everyone won’t mind one more” Debbie says and looks around for conformation. Jaz then speaks up “it would be amazing for you to stay. We have so much to catch up on”. I look over at Mason who is shooting looks at Lewis which Lewis shrugs in response. I look over at Mason and ask again “Mase who is that?” but again I am met with no response.

Mason is totally quiet over dinner and chit chat is all turned towards that Rebecca, I quickly escort myself to the toilet and once there I google her name which the first news article that came up “Rebecca Green spotted first time since break up with Man United’s Mason Mount” I feel my heart drop. I knew I saw her sometime. She is Mason’s ex. Why is she here? I feel a lump in my throat rising I need to speak to Mason.

Once dinner is finished we all take a walk back to the villa, its not as loving as it was when we were walking to dinner. Everytime I tried to link hands with Mason he would pull away but then give me a loving smile at the same time so my heads is confused. When we arrived everyone agreed that it was late and everyone was going to their respective room. Mason turned to me “I will be up soon I need to have a quick conversation.” I go to kiss him but he turns his head so I only get his cheek, I nod in agreement and then make my way upto our room, I thought I would have a quick bath and by the time I am out Mason should be out, he will probably just ask his parents what they are playing at inviting Rebecca, I have nothing to worry about I keep trying to tell myself. Once I am out the bath Mason is still not up, I look at the time and its been a couple of hours, I didn’t even realise the time as I was engrossed in the book I was reading. I wrap a towel around me, I go to look on the balcony and the side makes me feel sick. Its Mason and Rebecca sat on the table by the fire laughing away. I try to think nothing of it and get into bed hoping Mason will be back soon.

I am woken by the sound of Mason stumbling into the room, he quickly strips and throws himself into bed. “What time is it?” I ask Mason rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. Mason turns his body to me “1ish I think sorry we just got into catching up and didn’t realise the time” Mason pouts and gives me puppy eyes. “don’t be angry at me babyyyyy” he wines. “how can I stay mad at you” I respond giving Mason a little kiss but at the same time my heart still hurting.

I am debating to have the conversation now or in the morning but then I just blurt out “What is she doing her Mase?” I ask sheepishly hoping not to cause an argument. Mason wraps me up “Sorry I really didn’t know she was coming” I nod, it sounds like there is a little bit of a lie in that but right now I am not here to fight. “Don’t you think it will be a little awkward with your ex and your current girlfriend being on the same holiday with you?”

“Only if we make it awkward” in which Mason is quick to reply. I start to kiss Mason as I push my body into his. I pull away and look into his eyes “I was hoping to finish off what we couldn’t earlier in the shower” which I shoot him a wink as I start to kiss his neck. Mason pushes me away “I am knackered baby, its been a long day and I have had a lot to drink. But if you are lucky maybe you will wake up to something jabbing your bum in the morning” which he shoots me a wink. I roll my eyes at his response “how romantic” I giggle and then Mason turns me around as he spoons me and sleeps overwhelms us both.

As I open my eyes I suddenly feel the lack of presence of Masons strong arms around me, I quickly stretch then realise he is not next to me in bed. He cannot have one day off from the gym I thought. I got up and put a bikini on and throw on a dress to cover up as I make my way downstairs. Its quiet and only Lewis is sitting by the pool, I sit next to him. “Where is everyone?” I ask. “Mason and Rebecca are at the gym and the others are by the beach. I told Mason sod the gym in this heat” which we both giggle. “You know that he must be a mad man” I quickly respond trying to hide the twinge of guilt I have.

I didn’t see Mason for the rest of the day, his family are basically acting like I am not there and the only one who is acknowledging me is Lewis. I feel like shit and I just want to go home. I quickly ring my friend Hannah as I sat on the bed. “Hey girlllll! Hows the holiday with lover boy? I am totally jealous and totally hate you right now!” she basically squeals. “Its going alright” I reply looking down trying to hold the tears in. I can see her looking at me trying to figure out whats happened. “Y/N you are literally in Mykonos with The Mason Mount and you are not happy right now whats happened?” as I am explaining everything to her and I can feel the tears running down my face as she tries to reassure me that Mason loves me. I can hear Mason coming back into the villa so I explain to Hannah I gotta go which she understands and we both say our goodbye. I wipe my tears away waiting for Mason to come into the bedroom but nothing is happening. I start scrolling on my phone and I see Mason is tagged on a post:

Rebecca_Green Posted:

The Best Days With You ❤️

I feel myself wanting to be sick as the lump in my throat is formed. At this point Mason now decides to walk into the bedroom. He quickly sees my upset demeanour and runs straight over to me “baby whats wrong?” he asks as he wipes my tears away with his thumb. I show Mason the insta post “you literally went on a date with your ex girlfriend whilst I have been stuck here all day with your family who hate me and haven’t even spoken a word to me! Come on Mason she is wearing your shirt for fucks sake!” I am shouting now as I point at the picture, Mason steps back as he hasn’t been prepared for this argument. “I told her not to post anything!” I get up looking at Mason. “That’s you reply! That you told her not to post anything! So you are not denying you went on a date with her!” I can see Mason started to get fired up and I know he really doesn’t want to right now. “It wasn’t a date, okay, we had a lot to talk about so we did that, I am allowed to have a conversation with her. Also if you want my family to speak to you why not try and put more of an effort into it and they might actually start talking to you” he fired back. I can feel the tears rolling down my face as I leave the bedroom not wanting to ignite the fire more.

As I make my way downstairs the villa is empty and its just Rebecca sitting on her own on the decking. I build up the bravery and I go and sit opposite her. “hey we haven’t had a chance to introduce myself I am y/n” she looks up at me and smiles. “hey y/n! I am Rebecca. So how do you know the Mounts? Are you friend of Lewis’s or Jaz’s?” I look at her confused. Mason didn’t tell her who I am. “I am Mason’s girlfriend” I blurt out with authority. She looks at me with wide eyes like she is shocked at my reply. “I am sorry I didn’t realise Mase had a girlfriend I am so sorry for hogging him since we have been here. We have had so much to speak about” .

“Yeah he said” I scoffed as I replied. She continues to look at me. “I am sorry I am just so shocked that Mase has a girlfriend. He brought me the ticket for this holiday ages ago but then obviously we hadn’t spoken after the breakup, and then Debbie messaged me saying to still come. I wouldn’t think she would do that if you guys were in a relationship and then Mason had to buy another ticket for you”.

I can feel my heart breaking at every word said “I paid for myself I didn’t want anyone thinking I was here for Mason’s money, but also his family are not my biggest fan so that’s probably why they invited you”.

She gives me a smile that I can tell from her eyes is totally fake “sorry I cannot relate on that one! His family have always loved me!” she giggles. I feel the hatred towards her already, and I don’t know why I thought coming down here would make me feel better, if anything it has made me feel worse. I escort myself back to our bedroom which Mason has already disappeared from. I collapse against the door and let my tears fall.

Mason’s POV

I spot Lewis from across the villa “Lew where is she?” Lewis looks at me confused which right now I am not in the mood for this conversation. “Where is who?”  I can tell he generally doesn’t have a clue who I am talking about. “Y/n.. we had a kinda fight last night and I left her to cool down but when I came back this morning she was gone all of her stuff is gone and she won’t answer the phone. I am worried about her Lew whats happened?”

Lewis let out a big sigh “I don’t know where she went mate. We had a chat last night as she was pretty upset and you weren’t around”. I am shocked at this, why would you speak to Lewis and not me. “What was said?”

“She was upset about the post that Rebecca put up and I don’t blame her bro it didn’t look good”

“It was nothing like you think Lew. I promise look the one where I was asleep on the beach she said she was going to take a walk and then I fell asleep on the beach I didn’t even know she was next to me. The one she took in the shadow I didn’t even know she was taking the photo I was looking down at my phone. And then one with her on the beach, she asked me to take for her insta.”

“She has your shirt on tho, it does look bad Mason?”

“She didn’t have anything to cover up with, she said she was getting burnt what was I supposed to say no and let her burn?”

“I think y/n’s reply to that would be yes” in which Lewis laugh “she then said she spoke to Rebecca, apparently Rebecca was saying about how you never mentioned that y/n was your girlfriend and how mum invited Rebecca on the holiday as you had already paid for the ticket”. I cannot keep my expression straight, I am now fuming.

“That’s bullshit Lewis! Come on you know that is! You had to of told her that!”

“I didn’t say anything Mase, I don’t know the truth I don’t even know why Rebecca is here so I just listened to her have her rant. Kind of like what I am doing for you now”.

“I told Rebecca that y/n is my girlfriend. That was the first thing she asked me when she arrived was who she was and I told her straight away I was taken. I went to the gym yesterday morning and she just invited herself, and she did the same on the beach. I wanted to speak to her and ask her why she was here. Mum never invited her, she just had the ticket and thought ‘fuck it’ and thought she could come out and I don’t know, rekindle the relationship or something. She is possessive that’s the whole reason we broke up in the first place. Mum just asked her to stay to be polite as she had no where to stay. You know mum always liked her so I think she was just trying to be nice.”

“Oh right, yeah that came up too. Rebecca said about how our family loved her and then y/n said about how much we hated her apparently. I told her we don’t hate her, its just that we are protective of you as you are the baby of the family that’s all. But I know I have got to know her a lot more during the holiday and she is actually a lovely girl and I am sure the rest of the family agree.”

“I told her that!” Then I realise what I actually said “Well actually I snapped at her, and told her if she makes more of an effort then maybe you guys would like her”.

Lewis rolls his eyes and scoffs “Wow that’s nice!” he said sarcastically.

“I didn’t mean it, I let Rebecca get into my head. We always used to argue as she always thought I was cheating and that argument with y/n brought back memories and I just snapped. I didn’t mean anything I said to her I just got angry. I wanted to explain everything this morning but when I got into our bedroom she was gone. Do you think she has gone home?”

“Maybe.. if I were her Mase, I would already be on the next flight home so she is probably doing the same.”

I feel my chest drop as deep down I know Lewis was right. I didn’t want to leave my family as it’s the first time in ages that I have seen them. I spend the next couple of days fighting with my head and heart. I kept trying to call and text you but you continue to read everything that I write and just not reply.

We are sat over dinner with everyone, I told Rebecca to go home after everything I couldn’t cope with her being here, she caused all of this. As soon as she realised it would never be me and her again she couldn’t wait to leave. I told my family everything yesterday as I was moping around and they couldn’t stand my attitude apparently. My dad turned to me as we were eating “why are you still here? The longer you leave it the longer she has to think about all your flaws” that makes everyone giggle.

“You guys didn’t like her anyway” I was quick to respond. Mum give me a sympathetic look, “Mase its our duty to protect you. No girl will ever be good enough for you. Yes I agree we probably didn’t give her the nicest start and we apologise for that. But with your job and fame there are going to be girls who just use you to be apart of that, its our job to filter them out. From this holiday we can tell that she loves you for you Mason and that’s all we want so she has our approval.” My heart melts at hearing that all I wanted was for my family to like you, as I generally think I am proper falling for you. My mum continues “also Rebecca told me when she was leaving, that y/n told her that she paid for her part of the holiday, so you paid for everyone apart from that poor poor girl and she only stayed for half the holiday. I suggest when you get home you give her a one hell of a sorry”.

“In my defence I did offer to pay, she insisted on paying as she didn’t want you guys to think she was using my money.”

“Well then I suggest you go home and make it right Mase. You can see us anytime go home to her”. I have heard all I need to.

I got on the next flight home, it was the longest hours of my life. All I can think about is you, what are you going to think? Are you going to take me back?

Readers POV

Its been a long couple of days, I have unpacked all my holiday stuff, half of it unworn which brings tears to my eyes. It was childish that I left without a trace but I couldn’t be there, its clear that Mason wants Rebecca, why wouldn’t he, she is stunning and I am just little old me.

I am just starting to cook dinner whilst I have my tunes in the background. I am dancing around when I hear a knock at my door. I quickly open it and I am shocked to see Mason standing there, suitcase and all in trail. I am speechless, out of anyone who could be at my door I did not expect him. “W-What are you doing here?”

Mason looks tired from all the travelling “I have a lot of explaining to do. Please 5 mins that’s all I am asking for”. I nod and let him inside, he came back from the holiday early and clearly come straight from the airport the least I can do is let him explain.

 “I-If I knew you were coming I would of changed?” I quickly look down at my stained PJs, messy bun and glasses. Mason shakes his head as he takes a seat in my living room “I think you still look unreal” I blush at the compliment. “So explain” I say joining him on the sofa.

“It isn’t what you think okay, Rebecca twisted it all. Let me start from the beginning, so firstly-“

“I know Lewis told me”

“He did”

“Yeah yesterday. He said you had a conversation with him and cleared it all out. He said he wanted me know now as he didn’t want me waiting days and hating you more and more each day. He said that he liked me, and he said that he could see that I meant a lot to you so wanted to make things right.”

“Well he kind of ruined my whole speech that I wrote on the plane” he giggles “but I am glad he told you. I couldn’t stand the thought of you hating me.”

“I could never hate you Mase. I love you. I love you more then I have ever loved someone before. But at the same time you hurt me. Especially when you said ‘if I wanted your parents to like me then I need to make more of an effort’ because I spend all that time on holiday trying to get them to like me and that didn’t work.”

“It did, why do you think I am here. They told me to go fight for you because they can tell you are a lovely girl and wanted to see where this relationship could go. I am sorry for how I acted, but I promise you y/n even if my family didn’t approve I don’t care. I want you and only you. Nothing will ever change my mind”.

My heart melts and I jump across the sofa and wrap my arms around Mason. The kiss was passionate and needy. I straddle his hips as we deepen the kiss. “you have a lot of making up to do.” Mason gives me a suggestive smile. “Don’t worry I kinda thought so. Tomorrow we have date night but tonight I will make it up to you in another way”. Mason picks me up as my legs wrap around his waist as we continue the kiss as we make our way to the bedroom. I am in for a night of apologises and I have absolutely no objections.

[sl-newsie]

American Woman (Thomas Shelby x American OC) Ch. 78: Safeguards

Masterlist: https://www.tumblr.com/sl-newsie/739551758747090944/american-woman-thomas-shelby-x-american-oc?source=share

General POV

Last night was one of the toughest moments in Thomas’ life. Only ten doors down is the woman he loves, open and available, and they have to spend the night apart. The driving force inside him is the recollection of their kiss. Verena, looking gorgeous as ever in pure white, agreed to marry him. When he heard that, he knew God had answered. Now he just needs to complete the deal with her father.

The desk clerk alerts him to Verena’s parents’ arrival. Thomas, dressed in a clean, pressed suit, takes one last drink of water before heading down to the lobby while Verena waits upstairs. He descends the steps and hears a loud and cheerful American accent on the other side of the room. One man, who resembles Verena’s blonde hair and blue eyes, is chatting with one of the employees.

“Excuse me.” Thomas walks up and gets the man’s attention. “Would you happen to be Mr. Steenstra?”

The tall man, wearing a simple brown suit, nods. “Ja. Yes, I am.”

“My name is Thomas Shelby. I would like to privately discuss something with you, regarding your daughter.”

Mr. Steenstra’s face lights up at the mention of Verena. He ends his previous conversation and the two men walk off towards a more secluded part of the hotel. Thomas waits for him to sit before taking his own seat. So far so good. He hasn’t dismissed him yet.

“So you’re the Shelby man my dochter speaks so highly of.” He reaches across for a firm handshake. “Christiaan Steenstra, pleased to meet you. My brother-in-law tells me you’re something of a gangster yourself.”

“In a way, yes. But I’ve put part of that aside for now.” Thomas takes a breath. “Mr. Steenstra, I have come to ask for Verena’s hand in marriage.”

Time slows down. Thomas’ pulse thumps through his ears as he watches Mr. Steenstra take in the question. If anything, he looks eerily calm about it.

“You know, I always thought something like this might happen.” He leans forward in his seat. “A literal opposites attract situation. Do you know what Verena said the first time she came home from England? ‘Vader, I’ve met a very odd man. One who knows everything and yet nothing at all.’” Mr. Steenstra lets out a laugh. “Not many men catch my dochter’s eye, Mr. Shelby. I should know. My wife’s been trying to set her up for years. Why show an interest in her now?”

The soft manner surprises Thomas. He’s so used to his own family arguing and clawing at each other, and this is more like a friendly chat instead of a discussion of marriage.

“Because… I’ve always loved her,” he admits sincerely.

Mr. Steenstra shows little reaction to the confession “You must know my dochter is already engaged, Mr. Shelby. What makes you think you are a worthy candidate?"

Thomas swallows. "I have substantial amounts of money that she claims you need. But I know money is not good enough for her. The best I can offer her is everything and anything she wants. I would take my life for her. My life is worth a hundred of her."

Mr. Steenstra stays calm. "I thought you were once married?”

“I’m a widower,” Thomas explains. “I have two sons. My previous wife has divorced me.”

The man's eyes harden. “And Verena will make a good replacement?”

“No. Not that,” Thomas answers quickly. 

“Do not consider me a fool, Thomas Shelby. Your name was cast out from our house on the day of Liam’s funeral. If other circumstances had appeared I would give permission to have you hunted down for pursuing my dochter.” A few seconds of sharp silence go by and his eyes slowly soften with defeat. “However, it was her who decided to go back to you. She is a grown woman. I’m not going to fight her anymore. If being a gangster’s wife is what she chooses, then all I can ask is that you protect her with your life.”

“I love her. I will be good to her, I promise," Thomas vows deeply. "If it’s stability you need then I will not hesitate to supply.”

The man is intrigued. Shelby not only recognizes the personal value of his daughter but also her place in his distillery network as well. However, his mind will not be persuaded so easily.

“What would you have done had I not given my blessing?” Steenstra asks casually.

Thomas catches on and his voice raises. “Does that mean-?”

“Answer the question,” the man demands. “Would you have run off with her anyway?”

Thomas opens and closes his mouth, struggling to find words until he simply nods. “Yes. If she agreed to do so, yes.”

Steenstra leans back and looks down, running a finger along his own wedding band. “It takes a foolish man to disobey a familie's wishes. Either a very stubborn fool or one hopelessly in love.” 

Blunt but honest. Thomas is starting to have doubts-

“You may wed my dochter," Steenstra begins. "However. She is my only dochter. My little meisje.” He narrows his gaze. “Just because I am too Christian to get my hands bloody does not mean I do not have connections to people who will.”

Thomas doesn’t back down. “I understand.”

“Goed. Now, onto business.” Mr. Steenstra gestures to each of them. “You have a shipping company, and I have spirits to sell. Can you fill in the blanks?”

The clouds in Thomas’ mind lift. Mr. Steenstra’s passed the topic of Verena and is referring to business deals, a conversation Thomas knows very well.

“Perfectly,” he answers calmly. “By next year all of Europe will know of your product.”

“Goed, goed!” The Dutch man claps happily and they exchange a firm handshake. “I pray our transaction will be most prosperous, Mr. Shelby. Now let’s go inform Verena of this news before she hurts someone.”

The two men rise and begin walking back. As Thomas follows behind he can’t stop the smile spreading on his face. His prayers really are answered! And now that he’s earned Verena’s love and her family’s blessing he is going to do everything to keep himself worthy of it.

“You were a soldier yourself, ja?” Mr. Steenstra asks.

“Yes. In France.”

“I was stationed in Germany, as a medic. God’s blessings to me were that I could live and never had to kill. I know what kind of a man you are, Mr. Shelby. Your world is far beyond the one that Verena grew up in.” He turns to look at him. “I trust at least one of my zoons has given you a talk as well?”

Thomas freezes and gives a slow nod. “All of them.”

“A vader’s greatest pride is seeing he has taught his kind well. Ah!” The man notices a dark-haired woman walking up to them and gets her attention. “Mr. Shelby, meet my wife, Elowyn.” He points back to Thomas. “Elowyn, this man is the one. Verena’s.”

The woman, who shares Verena’s round nose, looks up at Thomas as if deciding whether or not this is a joke. 

After a while she looks at her husband. “The Gypsy gangster?”

Mr. Steenstra sighs and offers Thomas a look of sympathy. “I apologize for her bluntness. Verena gets her spirit from her moeder. Can you tell?”

Mrs. Steentstra ignores him and keeps watching Thomas. “He is a catch. But can he provide?”

“He’s the founder of Shelby Company Limited,” her husband explains.

“So he can do business,” she states sharply and steps closer. “Can you be a husband?”

Thomas doesn’t look away from her dark eyes. “Yes, ma’am. Yes I can.”

She hums with slight approval. “Verena wouldn’t have picked you out so easily. Although her judgment isn’t always the sharpest-”

“She’s the smartest woman I’ve ever met,” Thomas declares.

Mrs. Steenstra eyes him critically. “It was the involvement of your gang that led to the death of my zoon. Nothing can repay that.”

Thomas knows what she’s thinking. Polly thought the same way when Michael wanted to be involved. Verena’s mother doesn’t accept him. Maybe she never will. 

“There’s no stopping that girl,” Mrs. Steenstra sighs and gives him a narrowed look. “You should be very grateful that she wants you. So, you can begin to earn my blessing by giving me more grandchildren.”

Her husband begins to wave the idea off but Thomas doesn’t let it go. “You’ll get some.”

She points to him. “I’d better.”

“You will,” Thomas promises, already thinking of his and Verena’s own eagerness.

“He claims that he already has two zoons,” Mr. Steenstra adds.

His wife’s eyes widen. “A businessman and a vader? Jesus, Christiaan, why didn’t you tell me sooner? Please tell me you said yes.”

Mr. Steenstra sighs and presses a kiss to her cheek. “I said yes, liefje.”

“Good,” she huffs and starts walking towards the stairs. “I cannot wait another year for Verena to marry. We must have a toast!”

Mr. Steenstra and Thomas exchange surprised looks from her avid response. “Why don’t we tell Verena first? After all she’s the one getting married.”

“Who is?” Another voice asks.

It’s an older woman with short, white hair. She’s wearing a brown dress similar to Mrs. Steenstra. When the couple notices her following them Mr. Steenstra reaches for her hand.

“Mr. Shelby, meet my moeder, Ora.”

“Did I hear that right? Verena is actually getting married?” The woman claps and holds her hands to the air. “Blessed day!”

Thomas grins and tries to decide what to say. “Pleased to meet you-”

“Oh, just call me Grandmother Ora! Or Oma.” 

The old lady takes a spot next to Mr. Steenstra and they resume walking upstairs. Thomas chooses to linger behind and let his breathing steady out. Now he needs to hope that Verena hasn’t worried herself too much. 

Verena’s POV

I have been conducting plans of my own. All morning I put my past skills to work and set to drawing up documents. A kind of prenup, if you will. These will guarantee any doubts I have remaining. I presented them to vader the moment he stepped into my room and both him and moeder agree that I'm doing the right thing. All that’s left to do is make a few phone calls.

Ring. Ring…

“Hello?” Ada answers.

“Hello, Ada. It’s Verena. I have a hypothetical question to ask both you and Arthur.”

The Shelby zuster sounds surprised to hear from me. “Um, alright. What is it?”

Deep breath. “If I were to ever marry into your familie, would you have any objections if I took full reins of Thomas’ financials?”

There’s a long pause. I’m hoping Ada will favor me but it’s Arthur I’m concerned about. We haven’t kept in touch as well and he might think it strange for me to appear after all this time and step in. Technically Thomas is my fiancé now but I am still fully able to back out. If I cannot hold my own in their familie then that changes things. 

“No…” Ada says slowly after a while. “There would be no objections from my end. I’ll ask Arthur as well but more than likely he’ll say that whatever Tommy and his wife do is none of our affair… Even though Tommy’s done more than his fair share of prodding into our own relationships.” Another pause. “Is there something I should know?”

“All hypothetical, Ada. I’m afraid I must keep this short.”

Ada gasps. “Wait! Are you married yet? What happened to-?”

Click.

I’m sorry, Ada. But I’m keeping this under wraps until every detail is wrinkled out. I love Thomas dearly but I am not going to throw away this opportunity. This way there will be no more hesitation, no more skepticism, no more of others’ concern for loyalty.

Now for the last call.

Ring… Ring-

There’s some static on the other end. “Uncle Colon? It’s Verena.”

The Irishman chuckles. “Hello, lass. How’s the cutting?”

I take another deep breath and choose my words carefully. “Quite remarkable, actually. I am about to be married but there’s been a slight change. Could I ask a favor of you?”

“For your wedding? Name it.” He sounds slightly confused but still agrees.

“I am going to make you the witness signature to a document I just typed up. Could you come over later tonight and notarize it?”

“Absolutely,” he replies. “I’ll plan for six o’clock, eh?”

“Perfect. We will discuss more then.” I pause. “I also have news for you to tell your contact I’m supposed to marry.”

A few seconds go by. “I might have an idea of what.”

He already knows. Whether or not it’s through his underworld connections or plain intuition, he must know who I’m marrying now. Whatever is his take on the subject is something his tone refuses to give.

“I’ll see you tonight,” Uncle Colon closes the conversation. “Slán.”

“Tot ziens.”

There. A day from now my future will be secured. A strong marriage… and legal binding to financial benefits. It pains me with slight guilt to do this without informing Thomas first but I am not going to make a fool of myself. If he so much as kisses another woman I will take him up on his promise and empty an entire magazine into his chest, that is if Uncle Colon will not have done it first. This document will also see to it that a good sum of Thomas’ trading benefits will become mine.

But that is hypothetical. Precautionary. I will do my part and stand by Thomas. My real fiancé. 

General POV

At the end of the day Thomas prepares to head back to Birmingham. Despite his and Verena’s opinion, her mother insists that they keep apart before the ceremony. Since he didn’t pack anything he doesn’t need to worry about luggage. He freshens up one final time before heading across the hotel lobby-

“Shelby!” A raging voice barks across the room.

Someone’s arm reaches across his neck and begins dragging him back.

“Bloody Hell-!” Thomas chokes and tries to buck away.

It’s no use. Another two pairs of hands grab both his arms and stretch him out. By the time he’s dragged into an empty conference room he’s realized who they are.

“Shut your trap, Shelby,” Conor orders and tightens his grip on his throat. “Did you really think we’d let this slide?”

“Are you trying to get Verena killed too?!” Eoin hisses and kicks him in the shin.

“Fuck!” Thomas shouts and keeps trying to shake loose, only to be met with a fist to the stomach.

“Boys, boys,” a stern voice calls out, causing them to freeze. 

Everyone turns to look at the figure approaching from the shadows. Uncle Colon takes a slow look at the captured Shelby, his stone-faced eyes piercing into Thomas. He doesn’t look away when he addresses his nephews.

“Settle down. Step back.”

All four men start refusing.

Nicolaas’ grip tightens. “He’s-” 

“You can’t-!” Abel argues.

“Believe me, I have my doubts too,” the Irishman answers too calmly, yet still laced with rejection. “But your dad has given his blessing, on the condition that I keep my eye on him.” 

Thomas catches his breath and tries to reason with him. “Mr. Colon-”

“Did I say you could speak?” Colon questions and keeps talking. “This marriage is to be kept secret, understand? No one outside of our families will know Verena is your wife. That means no parading her around or showing her off. If she is to be kept safe then this is to be kept discreet.”

Deep down Thomas knew that this would come up eventually. Yes, he would love to show everyone how much Verena means to him. How much respect she deserves. But that also means putting her at risk. Like Grace. As much as he wants to display her as the miraculous woman she is, he cannot.

Mr. Colon adds one final remark. “Verena herself has also established safeguards.”

Thomas rethinks that sentence. “What?”

Mr. Colon grins and claps him on the shoulder. “If you even think of betraying her then you can kiss your empire goodbye. Stocks, bonds, everything you own will be decided by her. The only clause she generously left is a statement saying that your song Charlie gets a share as well.”

It’s so… blindsiding. Thomas should have expected something like this. Verena wouldn’t have agreed so easily. At first he feels betrayed that she didn’t tell him. Anger and sadness because of his life having things come to this. On the other hand… Her deception is well earned. Thomas is speechless nonetheless.

“You break your vows and you will have driven the final nail into your coffin,” Mr. Colon concludes darkly and begins walking back to the lobby, patting the gleaming pistol poking out from his coat.

The Steenstra brothers finally release him and give him a final nudge. Thomas stays hunched over, still thinking of what he’s about to get himself into.

“Welcome to the familie, Shelby,” Nicolaas taunts.

Conor gives him a stiff punch on the shoulder. “Better watch your back.”

The brothers follow their uncle up the stairs. Most likely they’re heading for Verena’s room. How should Thomas even react to this? Is she going to tell him eventually? Keep this a secret? Christ, all he’s worked for his whole life is going to be defined by a woman. How ironic. 

He can hear Polly now. 'There's a price to pay for love, Tommy. This one is going to cost you big time.'

Yes. Granted, he would fucking shoot himself instead of hurting her again. Yes, their marriage will put his empire in her hands. She's worth every pound.

If Verena is the mastermind behind his life then would that be so bad?

@sherbitdibdab @meadows5

[nadvs]

rafe x reader meeting eachother’s family ?? love the series !!🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

thank you!! i got a few requests for this one, i hope y’all like it 🥰

based on this fic

» au masterlist

they decided it’s best to meet each other’s families before he moves away to start training and playing basketball professionally. the timing works out well, considering they’ve been together for five months now.

when rafe met her family, she could not believe he was even capable of being so polite. he shook hands. he asked questions. he even fake-laughed at jokes. he was charming as hell. and she teased him mercilessly for it.

“didn’t expect you to call my dad sir,” she mumbled with a small smile as he drove them out onto the street.

“i can’t afford to fuck up,” he replied with a shrug. the fact that he cared so much made her heart flutter.

now, a week later, they’re driving to rafe’s family house and she can’t believe how big the homes in his neighborhood are.

he had told her about how his dad owned a successful business. she knew he was well off based on how carelessly he throws money around, the opposite of most of their friends, who fit the cliche of poor students scraping by. but this? this is ridiculous.

“could’ve told me that you live in a mansion,” she says as the gate at the end of his driveway opens.

“okay. i live in a mansion.”

she nudges his shoulder and huffs a laugh.

when they step through the front door, she can tell rafe didn’t mince his words when he told her about his familial relationships. the way everyone greets him makes it clear he was telling the truth about everything.

his youngest sister, who he said he always had a soft spot for, throws her arms around him. his other sister only offers a nod of her head. apparently all they do is bicker.

his step-mom’s side hug is impersonal but polite. and rafe visibly stiffens when his dad approaches him, pulling him into a hug, patting his son’s back hard.

he told her all about how much he’s always tried to get his dad’s approval. that his sister usually got it without having to try, while rafe always struggled for it. she can tell her boyfriend is tense.

“congratulations are in order,” ward says, diving into conversation about draft night. then, because he just seems to love making his son feel less than, he mentions how the team he was drafted to hasn’t won a championship in a few years.

“but hey, maybe things will change this year,” his father adds.

she can’t hold herself back from interjecting.

“they will. they have a new team of coaches now. they’re making all kinds of improvements, including the rookies they signed,” she says. she forces a smile and offers a handshake, introducing herself.

rafe watches her with a smirk he can’t stifle. he was just about to introduce her, but she couldn’t help herself from butting in to bat for him. they have a lot in common, including how protective she is.

sure enough, after dinner, wheezie quietly mentions to rafe that she’s basically a girl version of him.

“you think so?” he mumbles.

“no kidding,” sarah says, overhearing. “except i actually like her.”

rafe watches his girlfriend drift towards a wall of photos, cocking her head as she looks at the images of him in different stages of his life.

“wow,” she mumbles when he comes up next to her.

“what?”

“you’re playing basketball in like, all of these,” she says with a soft chuckle. “it was meant to be.”

he looks down at her. he know he’s grinning like an idiot because he notices rose close by, smiling at him like a proud parent.

afterwards, she goes to the restroom before they head out, and his step-mom turns to look at rafe the second she’s out of earshot.

“we like her,” rose says, her arm at the crook of ward’s elbow. “you seem happy.”

“i am,” rafe admits. he didn’t need their approval, but it feels really good to have it. it’s not a surprise to him, though. she was talkative and fun. she was likeable. she was herself.

“make good choices when you’re out there, son,” his dad says. “let us know if you need anything for the move.”

rafe nods. it’s bizarre how he’s taking such a big step, moving states away for an nba contract, yet he still feels like a kid when he’s here.

but then she comes back into the room and he feels like the self-assured man he knows he is.

they say their goodbyes and she breathes a breath of relief when she shuts the passenger door of his car.

“you good?” he laughs.

“that was so nerve-racking,” she admits.

“what?” she seemed totally cool and collected the whole time.

“the first thing i did was snap at your dad,” she says nervously. “i thought i blew it.”

“nah, everyone liked you,” rafe says. he turns the car on. “my sisters said that we’re the same person.”

the sentiment warms her heart.

“you’re really sweet with wheezie, by the way,” she says. “the guys would never believe it.”

“and they don’t have to,” he mumbles, feigning irritation. she laughs. he puts up a tough, intimidating front with his teammates. she sees right past it.

she leans over to kiss his cheek. she’s glad it went well. she sees a future with him. he sees one with her, too.

[taintandviolent]

This ain't a thing ; Oz Cobb x Reader

summary: PART TWO TO DADDY'S FRIEND! [PART ONE HERE] [PART THREE HERE] Oz stops by reader's place to return the purse she drunkenly left at the Iceberg Lounge the night before. Reader's father isn't home, so she invites Oz in to see if he's thought about last night.

word count & w a r n i n g s: 3.5K | female reader, older man/younger woman, spoiled bratty reader, mentions of affluence, somewhat established relationship, a sprinkling of plot, lots of teasing and sexual tension, handjobs, blowjobs, brief fingering, masturbation and reader being a manipulative power bottom, I suppose?

a/n: I'm having a little too much fun with this.... for the remaining oz girlies on my page.... kisses to you. banner by @/strangergraphics!

↓ full fic under cut! ↓ / ao3 link here! / I don’t have a taglist anymore, but please turn on post notifications if you’d like to be notified of future fics!

Your hand juts out from underneath the covers, reaching for your phone. There’s nothing but open space as you feel around on your bedside table. You barely remember getting in bed last night, let alone where your phone was. You let out a plaintive groan, and throw the covers off your body. Moaning as you go, you stumble barefoot to your attached bathroom, and fumble in your medicine cabinet for the ibuprofen. You take two with a gulp of sink water, and straighten up, looking at yourself in the mirror. 

Last night, you somehow managed to get yourself into pyjamas, which consisted of a very cheeky pair of silk sleep shorts and a tank top. Ever the fashionista. You look at the clock on the bathroom wall – it’s 9:30. Which means Daddy’s gone to work, and you’re left alone. The child of a divorce, and you’re grateful for it, because you’ve got the hangover from hell. If there’s one thing you’re not in the mood for, it’s anybody’s chastising. 

Begrudgingly, you decide you need some breakfast. And a latte. Definitely a latte, before anything else. Thank god your parents have all the best appliances, because you still haven’t located your phone and while it’s your preferred method, ordering in is out of the question. 

You pad down the plush carpeted steps, and down the hall. The kitchen is on the opposite side of the house, but you’ve got a skip in your step at the thought of hot coffee. Pulling down a mug from the cupboard, you get to work in front of the coffee machine, pouring in milk and letting it froth. The doorbell rings throughout the house. 

The interruption annoys you slightly, considering you’re expecting a mailman or some sort of delivery guy. Once you get to the front door, you stand on your tiptoes and peer through the peephole. Lips parted. Prepped to tell them, ‘Leave it at the door.’

Oh. 

Oh.

You lower down, and open the door gradually, careful to not reveal any of your excitement. He’s dressed a little more casually than last night; wearing black slacks, and a purple shirt that’s unbuttoned at the top, revealing coarse, black hair. He’s still got a wool overcoat on, ever presentable. You smile crookedly, and open the door further, letting the handle slip from your grasp.

“Hi, Ozzy…” you coo. 

Oz looks at you, his eyes skipping quickly down your scantily clad body before returning to your face. There’s something he wants to say, you can tell, but he shakes it off with a shift of his shoulders. 

He clears his throat, his tongue darting across his bottom lip. “You forgot this last night. Thought I’d bring it to ya’.” 

He lifts the purse between you two. With a coy smile, you reach forward, hooking your finger around the handle. He lets it go, and it swings from your outstretched finger. 

“Daddy isn’t home,” you say, leaning seductively against the doorframe. This poor guy, you think, he’s just standing on my doorstep, trying to do something nice and here I am… 

“I know, I uh – called him before I came over.” 

Kiss ass. For a moment, you say nothing, only staring at him. Tension crackles between you two, tangibly. Finally, you press your back against the doorframe, allowing him space to walk past you.

“You wanna’ come in? I’m making coffee…” 

“Nah, doll… I shouldn’t.” He looks up at the security camera in the corner, then back to you. He licks his lips again. 

You scoff, taking note of that. “Oh, stop it. He won’t mind. He’d probably say I was being rude if I didn’t invite you in.” 

“Sweetheart,” he starts, but is immediately cut off by your pouting expression. He sees it, and god, the way you’re lookin’ at him has him crumbling. He clenches his fist at his side, and takes a moment, righting himself. 

“Oz,” you whisper, rolling your head back and forth against the wood. “Come inside.” 

You like how that sounds coming off your lips, and so does he. Maybe a little too much. Just like your father does when he knows he’s lost, he heaves a sigh and steps up onto the front stoop. His arm brushes your breasts as he moves past, and you suppress a shiver. Obsession roils in your stomach like a hungry beast, untameable and feral. You shut the door, twisting the lock into place. You two stand there, silent, for a moment before you finally speak up, rocking back and forth on your bare heels.

“What are you thinking about? Are you upset about last night?” 

He raises his glance to you. The mere mention brings it back like a dirty movie; the way you were grabbing on his dick, forcing your tongue in his mouth, grinding your perfect little body against his big, broad one. 

“Last night? Nah! I ain’t thinkin’ about that.” That’s a lie. He is as much as you are. “I was just thinkin’ about uh, y’know. Coffee. Since you mentioned it n’ all.”

“You want coffee?”

“Sure. I’ll take some.”

You perk up and trot past him, knowing full well that the bottom of your ass cheeks are on display, teasing him, taunting him. You don’t have to hold his hand this time, because he happily follows you into the kitchen. 

With the distraction now behind you, literally, you resume your latte. Every so often, you peek behind you, and Oz is standing at the edge of the island with his hands crossed in front of him, like he’s waiting for orders. Jesus Christ. 

“Oz, will you chill out? The only camera is at the door. Nobody’s going to see anything.”

He shifts and his shoulders relax, some of the tension releasing at your words. Your father seemed like the type to record his entire house, but he furrows his heavy brows, looking at you. What’s there to see? Nothin’.

With two coffee cups in hand and your purse in the crook of your arm, you jerk your head, urging him to follow you once more. “C’mon, it’s comfier in my bedroom.” 

There’s a look in his eye, one that you devour. He seems real uneasy about that as he shuffles forward. 

Once you’re back in your room, at your urging, Oz sits stiffly on the velvet chair in front of your vanity, and after giving him the coffee, you toss the purse on the bed, and perch on the edge of it, which is still unmade from this morning. You tuck one leg underneath you, letting the other hang limply off the edge.

“Have you thought about last night?” You ask, wrapping your fingers around the warm curve of the mug before taking a couple sips. 

“How could I not, huh? You were pretty fuckin’ hammered, sweetheart. You could barely stand. How you feelin’ now?” 

You roll your eyes almost imperceptibly, and take a sip of coffee. “I’m fine. I’m just thinking about what I did in the elevator.”

He chuckles breathily, and shakes his head, reassuring you that he wasn’t upset. “Ah, don’t think about it, sweetheart. You were drunk, and –” 

“What if I want to think ‘bout it?” You set the coffee cup on the small circular table next to you, and get to your feet. One step at a time, you saunter towards him, bare feet digging into the plush carpet. Oz catches your gaze and swallows hard, watching as you close in. He sets the coffee on your vanity and turns back to you, a serious expression etched into his features. 

“Look. Doll. What happened last night is… forget about it. This…” He stammers, gesturing vaguely between the two of you. “This ain’t a thing.” 

“Alright, Ozzy,” you murmur, moving closer. “Then stop me. Stop me, finish your coffee and leave.” 

He wishes you’d stop calling him Ozzy, it makes his dick twitch in his slacks every single time. He looks past you, to your tufted bed frame. Your room oozes opulence, and acts a stark reminder of whose house he’s in. He doesn’t stop you fast enough, because by the time he opens his mouth to speak, you’ve slotted yourself in between his thighs, your body a hair’s breadth away from his. In his sitting position, you’re taller than him, and gaze down at him with an unparalleled hunger. Your breath mingles with his, and his words die in his throat. 

“Yeaaah, I thought so.” You throw your head back in a laugh, and reach forward, sliding your hands in between his broad neck and the collar of his shirt. The contact makes Oz shiver, and you revel in the bloom of power that you feel beneath your fingertips. You trail down into the warmth of his coat, running your fingers underneath his suspenders, following them down to the waistband of his slacks. Oz’s big, strong hand finds one of your smaller ones at the wrist, holding it in place.

“Fuck… you don’t know what you’re doin’ to me, baby.” 

He’s tenting in his slacks. You reach down with your free hand, boldly stroking the outline of his hardening cock with a single manicured nail. “Mm… I think I do.”

At that, Oz lets a groan slip. He can’t fuckin’ help it at this point, and his dick throbs. 

“Touch me, Ozzy…” You pivot your hand in his grasp, latching onto it before yanking it hard to the crotch of your shorts. You press his thick fingers against your core, forcing him to feel the damp heat between your legs. The silk is already soaked through, and you urge more pressure. 

“I said, fucking touch me. I know you want to.” 

His tongue darts out again, wetting his lips. Who is he to deny your command? Oz’s fingers twitch to life between your legs, feeling the slickened fabric. They feel around your clothed slit, curiously, and through the fabric, he finds your swelling clit, running a few wide, soft circles around it. Your hips buck forward, a moan tumbling off your lips. 

After a few moments of letting him touch your clothed cunt, you tug his hand away and kneel in front of him. Oz’s lust-laden gaze follows yours as you lower yourself down. 

“Doll, what’re you doin’, huh? This is crazy.”

You shake your head, ignoring his insecurities and fears. Without a word, you free his cock from his slacks; thick and framed by a thatch of thick, black hair. It’s standing to attention and a perfect bead of precum leaks from the blushing head. 

You reach forward, wrapping your fist around his shaft at the base and begin jerking him off in long, slow strokes. The feeling of it, velvet heat, and heavy in your hand, is enough to make your cunt twinge with heat. Above you, Oz is gripping the edge of your seat, his knuckles turning white. 

“Sweetheart, you shouldn’t be doin’ this, y’know? This is fucked up…” 

“Why?” You ask, coyly. You know. You know the reason that this has Oz twitching in your grip; the fear of getting caught turns him on, and knowing just whose daughter he’s getting a handy from… that turns him on, too. 

“If your dad comes in here right now, I'm cooked.” 

“Ugh, I told you, he’s not home. It’s just you and me, Oz. You like this, don’t you?”

You squeeze his dick at the head, milking some more precum from the tip. It dribbles onto your hand, and you rub it along the length, making it easier to glide up and down. “You liked it when I grabbed your dick in the elevator, didn’t you?” 

“God damn right I did,” Oz chokes out. 

“Why didn’t you kiss me back?” 

Oz barks out a laugh, shifting his hips forward slightly as if he’s pathetically reminding you that his dick is out. You haven’t forgotten, and you shift your wanton gaze back to it. “Ah’cmon, y’know I couldn’t have done anything then! Nothin’ personal.”

His brown eyes glaze over with lust as you continue to stroke him, your thumb swiping over the tip with each pass of your hand. His cock twitches in your grasp as his body tenses, deepening his arousal. You’re doing it so casually, like it’s the most normal thing in the world. Meanwhile, a thin sheen of sweat coats his forehead, and he’s getting hot under the collar.

“You want me to suck it?” You ask, looking up at him with big, bright eyes. 

Flabbergasted by your question, he shrugs a little, and a nervous, breathy laugh tumbles off his scarred lips as your lips near his cock. Testing him. Taunting him. Seeing what he’ll put up with, or if his resolve is already broken. You suspect that it’s already shattered, because when your tongue flops out to trace the veiny underside of his cock, he jerks forward, hand snapping to the back of your head. 

You reach behind your head and pull his hand away, bringing it eyelevel. You hum as you play gently with his fingers, your smaller ones slipping in and out of his thicker ones with ease. You run over his ring, tracing the grooves in the cool metal. Lazily, you lap at his cock again, precum beading up at the tip. 

“How bad do you want it, Ozzy? Hm?” 

You’re close enough that he can feel your breath washing over the head of his dick, and it’s drivin’ him up the fuckin’ wall. He laughs through his nose though, acting tough, and looks from your eyes to your mouth and back again. 

“Pretty fuckin’ bad, sweetheart. I ain’t gonna’ lie to you. I wanna’ know how that mouth of yours feels around my dick.”

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

Abruptly, the sound of your ringtone shatters the silence between you two, filling the room. You scurry over to your bed, pulling the phone from your purse. You’re surprised that it still has a charge– though it isn’t much. You slide the button to the right, and tap the speakerphone. You return to the floor in front of Oz’s legs, resting your chin on his knee.

“Hi daddy,” you say, reaching up to jerk Oz’s dick off centimeters from your mouth. 

“Hi, baby. How are you?” 

As soon as Oz hears your father’s voice, he leans back in the chair, rubbing his big hand over his face. He can’t fuckin’ believe you – putting it on speakerphone just to torture him? Playin’ a real dangerous game. 

“Fine. Little hungover.” You lick at the tip of his cock, smiling proudly to yourself. Despite his feelings, Oz is doing a good job above you to make a single sound. It’s very clear that he wants to. His broad, big chest heaves with silent, laboured breaths as he watches you. 

Your father clears his throat. “Did Oz come by?” 

You look up to Oz’s face, and he swallows hard. 

“Yeah.” You let go of his cock, and tap the tip of it with your finger. “He’s still here. I was making coffee. I invited him in to have some. Wanna’ talk to him?” 

There’s a moment of silence, and Oz looks like he’s gonna’ have an aneurysm. His dark eyes widen angrily and he shakes his head at you, silently pleading for you to not pass the phone his way. You grip his cock again and lick another long line from the base to the tip. Oz’s hips pitch forward and he almost lets out a groan. 

“No, no. That’s alright. I’d better get back to work – tell him I said thank you for stopping by to check on you.” 

“Okay, daddy. I will.” 

“I love you.” 

You echo the sentiment and press the button to end the call. Oz heaves a loud sigh, and looks down at you like he’s got a devil between his legs. 

“The hell d’you think you’re doin’, huh? You’re a real piece of fuckin’ work, y’know that?” 

Your lids flutter as you roll your eyes, uninterested in participating in his nervous bantering. “That’s why you’re so hard, right? Do you want me to suck your cock, or not?” 

“Yeah.” He nods once. “Yeah, suck it, sweetheart.” 

There it is. You waste no time in taking his heavy cock into your mouth, reveling in his personal taste. Slowly, you urge him deeper until the head hits the back of your throat and makes you want to gag. The feeling is warm, and you close your eyes, burying your nose in the hair above his dick. Oz groans above you, and his hand finds the back of your head again, this time, gripping the strands slightly.

“Oh shit,” he stammers out. “Fuck me.” 

You feel his eyes on you as you begin bobbing your head up and down, letting it slide out of your mouth before driving your head back down. Every so often, you feel it twitch against your tongue, and you can’t help but smile when it happens – and silently wonder when the last time he got his dick sucked was. Couldn’t have been recently, he’s practically coming apart already. Hot tears well at the corners of your eyes as your gag reflex is activated over and over again, but you don’t pull back, and power through the movements. Oz notices this though, and he reaches his hand down to your shoulder, where he grips it softly.

He’s breathless when he speaks. “You doin’ okay, doll?” 

You nod your head a few times on his cock, indicating that you’re doing just fine. It’s cute that he’s worried. Worried that maybe if you aren’t doing okay, you might just call your dad back and tell him what you’re doing. 

You reach your hand down between your legs; your silk shorts are soaked through with your arousal. You pull back from Oz’s swollen cock, swallowing the collection of spit and precum, and look him in the eye, your gaze unwavering as you begin to speak. 

“I wonder what your dick would feel like inside me.” Your words are casual, but the hunger that claws your insides is anything but. You want so desperately to get up and turn around, pulling the fabric down over the swell of your ass and slip his thick cock inside, feeling that burning stretch as your slickened walls struggle to accommodate his girth. 

You deepthroat him again, and you feel the muscles in Oz’s big thighs tense up beneath your hands. In fact, you feel everything tense up. You laugh through your nose, unsurprised that he didn’t last very long. That’s cute, too. He’s probably thinking about fucking your tight little cunt. 

When he comes, it’s warm and viscous and coats the inside of your throat in virile pulses. You breathe through your nose as you swallow him down. Once the spurts subside, you back up, letting his cock slide messily from your throat. A heavy string of spit and cum stretches from the tip, and you whisk it away as you wipe your chin, which has accumulated the fluids too. 

“I always get what I want, remember?” 

“Fuck,” Oz says, tucking his fading cock hurriedly back into his slacks. Post-nut clarity has hit and he’s back to his worrying state, looking around your room like your father is going to pop out from the closet and wring his neck. 

“I’m going to fuck you next.” You say it not as a question, or a plea, but a simple fact. The next time you see Oz, you’re going to let him fuck you, because he wants it, and you want it more. 

Oz stands up, looking down at you. You wipe the corner of your mouth with your thumb, gazing up at him with that sweet, falsely innocent gaze of yours. He chuckles, the sound filling your room. 

He takes a long swig of the coffee, now room temperature, and sets the cup back down on your vanity. 

“Thanks for the coffee, doll.” 

“And?” You ask, expectantly. 

“And for suckin’ me off.” 

You nod, satisfied. “You’re welcome.” 

Oz looks at you for a second, really looks at you, like he’s trying to figure out what your game is, what makes you tick. You flash him a bright smile, and nod your head towards the door. His gait isn’t graceful as he moves past you, but there’s something that swells in your core at the way he ambles down the hall, and then the stairs, taking them carefully. 

Once you’re at the front door, you lean against the doorframe again. For the second time in 48 hours, you’re saying goodbye to him. You say his name again, equally as coy, but a little less sloppy than the night before. 

After Oz leaves, you’re immediately racing back up the stairs. You launch yourself onto your bed, and your hand is in your bedside drawer, searching blindly for that satin drawstring bag. It’s in the back of your drawer, nestled amongst lip gloss and hair ties; your pink dildo. You rip it open and immediately twist the base, activating the vibrating function. 

You waste no time in sliding it in. You’re wet, and it’s easy to fuck yourself on it, hard and fast, like you’d want Oz to fuck you. With the heady taste of him still on your tongue, it doesn’t take you long to come, and when you do, you say his name over and over again.

When your father gets home, you think, you’ll have to steal Oz’s number from his phone.

[shanastoryteller]

Its spooky season!!! Any chance for a continuation of the gryfindoor draco?

a continuation of 1 2 3 4

Colin Creevey is an ickle firstie and extremely annoying - no matter what Harry says, he couldn't have been that bad as a first year - and Draco feels sick to his stomach thinking of him lying petrified in the hospital wing.

Of course his house is being targeted. Of course they went for a muggleborn, of course whoever is doing this went after an eleven year old muggleborn who hadn't the first clue on how to defend himself against whatever the hell this asshole thinks he's doing -

"Calm down," Harry says, his grip on his shoulder just a shade away from painful.

"I am calm!" he shouts.

Calmly.

Neville pats his back, apparently less interested in leaving finger shaped bruises on him than Harry is. "It's okay, he's going to be fine."

"He will," Draco says darkly. "And what about the next victim? I am done. Hogwarts doesn't need another student death ruining it's reputation."

"What are you planning to do?" Ron asks, but he sounds more curious than derisive.

"Please let it not be something stupid," Hermione says, the first time she's spoken since they've gathered together.

Draco doesn't blame her. If Gryffindor muggleborns are the targets, she's next on the list, regardless of her friendship with him and Neville. Maybe even because of it. Certain people, like idiotic teenagers emulating Voldemort, consider it a sign of muggleborns not knowing their place when they make connections above their assigned station.

"I'm writing my father," he says. "Kids are in danger, and Dumbledore clearly has no idea how to stop it. So I'm going to do what none of the mugglborns' parents know to do or even can do."

Hermione and Harry just look confused, which is to be expected, but he expected better of Neville. Ron, depressingly, just raises an eyebrow. "You want to get aurors involved?"

"They won't interfere in Hogwarts unless they're requested, Dumbledore's influence and reputation gets in the way. No muggle would know that, so I'm going to have my father push it through instead."

"Dumbledore could still block it," Neville says slowly.

Draco doesn't like to think of himself as having a temper. He decides to blame it on the influence of his house. "Then he should be thrown out of the school! Children are in danger, someone is walking around the halls trying to kill us, the aurors should already be handling it!"

Ron grins at him. "I'll talk to my father too. He might not have the scary reputation of yours, but he is a department head, and he knows a lot of the aurors. Anyone your father can't bribe or intimidate, my father can likely bring around."

Draco looks at him in surprise, but just inclines his head. Ron's probably right - his parents fought in the war, just like his father did, only on the opposite side. They probably do have connections to the entire department between them.

His dad will likely be put in a mood with having to work with a Weasley, but Draco's already gotten over it himself so it's time for his father to do the same.

[tearsaura]

Holding the enemy in my arms // Garrick Tavis x reader

A/N: Based on this request. I hope you like it. I didn't want to take to long on getting this out

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: Iron Flame spoilers, angst, death

Picture is from pinterest: kateslibb

Garrick Tavis has cried twice in his life.

~Basgiath War College, 12 hours ago~

He quickly found her in an abandoned hall, grabbed her by the shoulder, his arm pressing her by the neck to the wall behind them and holding a dagger to her throat with the other.

‘How could you do this?’ Garrick had never shed a tear in front of anyone else before. He hadn't even cried at his parents’ execution, not wanting to give Generals the satisfaction. But right now? Pressing her to the wall, the women whom he loved so dearly, who he had pictured a life with? Getting married, having kids, and living at each other’s side? She looked so much like the y/n he knew, if it wasn't for the bloodshed eyes, she looked just like the girl he fell in love with.

‘You wouldn't understand.’ she gasped, her hands grabbing desperately at his arm. ‘Try me. You had me thinking you were dead. You had your Dragon thinking that you were dead, your friends! Was it worth betraying all of us? Ruining what we had? Answer!’ he shouted. The next moment, his back hit the opposite wall, knocking the air out of his lung and she had disappeared.

~Basgiath War Collage, 6 Months ago~

‘Gods your stance is terrible how did you survive your first year?’ Garrick laughed as he watched her take position. ‘I survived just fine.’ she grinned at him. ‘Well, this won’t last you for long let me show you How you're supposed to do it.’ he said, standing behind her and repositioning her arms. ‘Why Thank you, section leader. Or shall I start calling you Lieutenant?’ ‘Stop teasing, concentrate.’ He tsked, pressing a quick kiss on her temple. ‘Thank you for helping me.’ she whispered in that gentle tone of hers, making Garrick weak in the knees. ‘Of course, my love. You don't have to thank me I am doing this for selfish reasons: I need you to survive what's coming.’ he said, unaware that he was, in fact, holding the enemy in his arms.

‘Can't you be stationed here? I'll miss you.’ she complained. ‘I wish I could stay with you, my love. But you know I can't. I'll write to you all the time I promise. Maybe we'll be able to smuggle out occasionally when Xaden comes to visit.’ ‘Or we could get our dragons to fall for each other and become mates? Then we'd be able to visit each other to! We still have time-‘ ‘I appreciate your effort, but you know this doesn't work that way.’ he replied and Y/N turned around in his arms, putting hers around his neck. ‘Just promise me we'll figure this out.’ she whispered, looking at him through her lashes. ‘We will. I promise.’ he whispered back and interlocked his lips with hers.

~Riorson House, Aretia, four months ago~

Garrick ran through the corridors of the Riorson house, frantically searching for her y/h/c standing out in the massive groups of cadets that stood around all the place, with no success. His frantic search came to a halt when he spotted her friends. She'd have to be here. There was no way she wouldn't have come. Was she okay? Did she survive?

With big steps he approached them, his heart falling when he saw she wasn't among them. ‘Violet? Have you seen y/n?’ he asked the younger Girl, who just shook her head, the worry in her eyes matching Garrick’s. ‘No, I- I'm sorry we didn't see her. She was nowhere to be found.’ she replied. ‘We searched all over.’ If his heart hadn't given out before, it sure did when he heard those words.

Samara is here Chardh echoed in his head and Garrick made haste to get outside, up to where the Dragons stood. Chardh stood next to Samara, whom had her head low to the ground. She cannot get to her.

~Basgiath War Collage, 13 hours ago~

‘According to Barlowes Memories, he planted lures all over the college and up the path to the vale.’ Aetos started explaining. ‘How could he have done it by himself?’ Someone chimed in. ‘He didn't.’ Dain began, hesitating. ‘Which leads me to the next point: He- he had help from Y/L/N. I don't know for how long she has been turned into a venin or where she is right now. We presumed her for dead. I saw where Barlowe put most of the lure boxes but not all of them. And we can't figure out where Y/L/N has put them without finding her...’

Garrick blended the rest of it out. He suddenly felt dizzy, his vision turning black, and his hands started shaking. That couldn't be. She'd never do that. ‘Garrick?’ he turned to his best friend, who looked at him with his usual expressionless stare. Bodhi on the other hand had it written all over his face how sorry he felt.

He ignored their stares, tracking back all the times he shared with her. Was she a venin when he first told her that he loved her, when he helped her train, when they shared their first kiss together? Or was she turned when half of the college left for Aretia? Or was that the reason why she hadn't come at all? How come no one ever noticed her eyes where red? Once the briefing was over, he was the first who left the room, beginning his hunt.

~Basgiath War College, Present~

Garrick shook his head, focusing on the task at his hands, his mission clear: buy time, to get the wards back up. There were a dozen wyvern flying directly towards him and Chradh. There were no other Cadets or Riders near him: leaving him at a clear disadvantage. He threw a dagger towards the first venin, missing the target by mere inches, the metal falling.

‘You should forfeit Rider. Maybe then we will spare your life.’ they said, a disturbing grin spreading across their face. Chradh continued to breath fire, without no luck, and attacked the wyvern at its neck. Just as Garrick stood up on Cradh's back, ready to start another attack. Before he could do anything, a dagger came flying, piercing the Venins, falling off. In mere seconds, the other Venins followed. The Lieutenant turned his head to see the source of the flying dagger, his eyes widening. ‘Are you okay?’ y/n asked, flying closer to him. Chardh growled, ready to attack her but Garrick quickly interfered.

End her. She betrayed you. She betrayed Samara. She betrayed all of us. She will be our downfall.

‘How is it possible that Samara assumed you were dead?’ ‘You clearly don't know enough about Venins. My magic helped me build shields strong enough that she could've never find or get to me.’ ‘Why did you kill them?’ ‘Really? You want to discuss this now? I will explain to you everything once we're done.’ she stated to him and turned then to Chardh.  ‘The lure boxes I put out are very weak but all near the hall.’ And with that, she left them, closely missing the weapon one of the venin had throwed at her.

Garrick couldn't keep the grin off his face. She is helping them. She is fighting against her own to help them. He was overwhelmed with a new burst of energy and ready to take on the venin that came flying directly towards him. He didn't see the other one coming, one hand raised and pulling on of the daggers from Garrick towards him, then aiming it at Garrick. Before he could retrieve another dagger, a dark figure passed by him, taking the dagger at the chest, and plummeting to the ground. Garrick only saw the familiar y/h/c hair, and sped down after her, his heart falling even deeper.

Once Chardh caught up with her, he grabed her carefully by her body and lowered them to the ground, putting her down as gently as possible. Garrick quickly got off, sliding to the girl, grabbing her by the upper body, positioning her head on his lap. She was still breathing, and Garrick held his hand on her chest, desperately trying to put pressure on her wound, tears streaming down his face.

‘How could you do that? We could've gotten you back.’ ‘This is war. I had to do what had to be done. There's no cure.’ she replied. Her breath becoming shallower with every second. The other venins layed around, all dead. They must've raised the wards.

Call for Brennan! Call for Brennan!!

On it.

‘You'll get over me. I promise you. You'll meet someone that doesn't cause you the pain I caused. They're going to make you happy. I promise you'll be fine.’ y/n said, cradling his cheek with a shaking hand giving him a smile. Garrick shook his head violently. ‘You can't cry over me. I am not worth crying over.’ ‘Noone is going to make me happier than you did. I love you and I don't take anything you have done for granted. I could never. None of us do. You can't leave me now that I have you back, please I love you.’ ‘I will watch over you, I promise. I love you too.’ she said, her eyes going blank, as she took her final breath.

As the Cadets and Riders were celebrating inside, there was no sound to be heard outside, other than Garrick’s painful roar, triggering the same one from Chradh.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

wibta if i keep having sex with my friends dad? nsfw warning

i (20s cismale) got invited by my friend (20s nonbinary) to try out some new edibles they made last thursday. this isnt too weird because both of us are unemployed (they get disability, i get money from unemployment, and we both live with our parents) and usually during the day their dad (50s cismale) is at work so we get the house to ourselves. well last thursday was different because i came over late in the night when their dad was home, and he offered to make me some dinner too. i get the munchies really bad so i was immediately like yes please and thank you while i fucked off to my friends room. we played some smash bros while we waited for the cookies to kick in, and when it started to hit his dad called us both out for dinner. dinner was great, and his dad is super chill — so he let us raid his alcohol cabinet. i dont think he knew either of us were stoned for the record (im naturally really quiet/dont make eye contact, my friend sounds high 24/7 naturally) so i dont think he was like trying to get anyone drunk or anything. my tolerance is pretty good but my friends is shit so it didnt take long until they were like blackout drunk and passing out on the couch, while their dad and i were both drunk too (not blackout but pretty drunk, and i was still high) and sitting on the opposite side of the couch next to eachother

important fact about me - i crossdress like femboys or whatever theyre called. i like looking really feminine and cute and confusing people. im not trans or anything like that gender is just a game and i am winning it. but i do tend to dress up in very egirl/goth gf clothes if you know what i mean, and i look pretty convincing ive been told (friend tells me i would pass for ciswoman with the makeup on). i think their dad maybe forgot that i was me (he usually sees me in boy clothes) and he started hitting on me? i didnt think i was gay or bi either until he started doing it and i got really flustered but i didnt stop him? again i was fucked up so the attention felt really nice despite it being my friends dad. but anyways he kept getting closer until he kissed me, and it felt nice so i let it keep going? which was probably super fucked up in retrospect. but anyways stuff gets hot and steamy, their dad doesnt bother lifting up my skirt, one thing leads to another and we have sex. he definitely noticed im not a girl during that (its pretty hard to miss lol) but he didnt stop so we kept going for a while

after we were done he and i passed out on the couch in a kind of awkward position, we both woke up in the morning and i think thats when he realized im me, but he didnt seem to freak out even though hes straight?? or at least i thought he was straight. but we had sex again in the morning and then when my friend woke up we all had breakfast and i went back to my friends room and we hung out more and got high again. while we were though i accidentally spilled the beans to my friend, and they FREAKED out on me and said that i was so gross for doing that, and they cant believe that it happened, stuff like that. they kicked me out of their room and their dad had to drive me home because i was shaking bad from it. but while their dad drove me home i was super pissed and mad and not thinking straight (haha) and so i tried to convince their dad to take a detour so we could fuck again. and he was like, okay sure, so we did?? but now i feel horrible for doing it knowing that it grossed my friend out so much, but i really like their dad and he seems to like me too, and i want to keep banging him :(

What are these acronyms?

[eliotquillon]

sorry if you've answered this before, but what do you think every character's favourite patient was?

OH LORD HAVE MERCY. okay. long post incoming.

(as usual i am disregarding masters, park and adams just because of how limited their runs on the show are. nothing personal i love them i prommy)

FELLOWS 1.0:

CAMERON: my joke answer is the 600lb guy from que sera sera; my actual answer is…hm. maybe the couple from clueless (before it was revealed the wife was poisoning him)? or her clinic patient in acceptance. cameron’s centric episodes either have little to do with the patient or usually hinge on her feeling betrayed by them in some way (kalvin in hunting, the husband in fidelity). even though i am no.1 cameron lover this is really tricky. like the answer feels like it should be the cuban couple from human error but she doesn’t even spend that much time with them! honestly it probably is the guy from que sera sera lmfao

FOREMAN: opposite to cameron’s problem; foreman has almost too many episodes where he bonds with the patient in some way—there’s a whole spate of s3 episodes where the whole deal is him becoming attached to the patient and really believing in them only to be disillusioned. i think is fave is probably the romani kid in needle in a haystack, even though it seems to kill him a little bit to watch the kid embrace his culture over his academic opportunities—they got along really well, and foreman really seemed to see himself in him.

CHASE: there’s a really really obvious answer to this: moira from chase. if we disregard her…lol i’ve joked before about how chase only seems to care about patients when they’re children or nuns, so it’d either be sister constantine from damned if you do or maybe gabe from cursed.

FELLOWS 2 ELECTRIC BOOGALOO:

quick note that it’s a little harder for these three since their introduction marks the show’s gradual shift from ‘case driven’ to ‘character driven’

TAUB: the hasidic woman from don’t ever change. i’m a bit biased for this—i really, really love this episode for several reasons, and i think taub’s…grace? respect? for the patient embracing her religion even though he personally doesn’t see it that way is a really lovely bit of character work for him, and it’s one of the reasons why i’m so fond of him. anyway i’d like to think that this is his favourite patient lol.

THIRTEEN: obvious answer is probably her hookup from lucky thirteen (where she does the whole ‘attaching herself to a dying patient then backing off as soon as they get better’ act that cameron is always falsely accused of lmao), so my second nomination is the intersex kid from the softer side. she spends a lot of time with him, clearly seems to identify in some way with the idea that he has a right to know his own medical history, and they get along well in spite of her crushing guilt that she might have ruined his life by telling him about his being intersex. lmfao.

KUTNER: once again a tricky answer (i know who his least favourite patient is: the girl from emancipation who lied about her parents dying!) but most likely the woman from birthmarks. he really, really goes out to bat for her when it comes to defending her from her parents and clearly related to her in regards to them both being adopted. it’s kind of a shame that the patient is more of a b-plot to the house/wilson relationship drama in that episode, because it would’ve been nice to see more of it. anyway that’s off topic

THE BIG THREE

WILSON: rarely interacts directly with house’s patients, so probably rebecca adler from the pilot? he cared enough to lie about her being her cousin at least (even if he forgot her name). or maybe andie from autopsy. ok final answer andie from autopsy.

CUDDY: brief shoutout to everyone’s favourite pregnant woman EMMA SLOAN from the s3 all timer that is fetal position, since cuddy spends the whole episode ignoring everyone’s advice and trying (and succeeding) to save the pregnancy, but the real answer is likely the girl in joy to the world. not just because cuddy ends up adopting her baby—well before that, cuddy spends most of her time at her bedside and clearly identifies with her.

HOUSE: so there are a ton of options—the obvious one is cate milton from frozen, but i’d be remiss if i didn’t shout out the following: queen emma sloan (once again), the kid (luke) from the socratic method, eve from one day, one room, rebecca adler from the pilot, and andie from autopsy. and probably some more that i’m forgetting. but the real answer probably is cate. he missed the diagnosis because he wanted her to not have cold feet!

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Pretty like the sun

Previous chapter / Next chapter

a/n This is pretty like the wind series spin offs. This can be read as standalone all you need to know is that Azriel has two adoptive kids with OC - Zofie and Axel. Future stories related to them might include stories specifically decided to Azriel hence why I am taging it as Azriel story too. Don't come at me please. ✨

It’s been a hot minute so idk if any of you are still here with me🫣 we do have an Azriel pov here.

warning: nothing major, past trauma.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Zofie’s pov:

She sat at the top of the steps for hours. Long given up on running towards the door with every scratch or creek that she heard. With her head resting against the railing, Zofie couldn’t help but let her mind consume her. Nit-picking at all of her choices. She had done the opposite of being a good daughter. And she too had promised to love Azriel forever, so what was shifting?

Her thoughts slithered towards Nyx, who had been claiming most of her mind now. She could see why Azriel wouldn’t want her with him. And maybe it wasn’t even him trying to protect her; maybe it was him trying to keep the high-fea bloodline clean. What did she have to do with the high lords? Nothing. She saw the high lord and lady from time to time, but she was way closer to Uncle Cassian.

Then her thoughts drifted to the fact that she didn’t know all that much about Nyx either. Zofie didn’t even know his other friends. How many were they? What if all he was doing was just being friendly? He could very well have a lover. A mate. Preppy parents in desperate need to marry off their children to form bonds between courts, Nyx’s voice ran in her ears. Of course, Rhys was no doubt looking for a match for his son. And what was she thinking? Letting herself dream that maybe one day…

The sound of the door clicking open made Zofie shoot up. Just with her lack of focus, the girl ended up hitting her head against the side of the railing. Whining in pain, Zofie quickly reached to press her palms against the aching spot, only to lose her footing as her ankle buckled and the center of gravity shifted. She managed to let out a yelp, but the hard fall never came. Instead, the endlessly soothing smell of night filled her senses.

"Zofie," her father’s worried voice made her look up quickly. “Look at me, hey, did you hit your head hard?" Azriel’s worried golden eyes tore through the last bits of her self-control. Without a second thought, Zofie scrambled to get closer. Hands messily tangling with Azriel’s leathers as she wrapped herself around him. “I’m so sorry," she whimpered, “So sorry." Azriel’s arms wrapped around Zofie’s frame with ease in an instant. “Breathe for me, Zofie; you will make yourself faint, baby girl." The calmness of his voice strangely unsettled her. He was supposed to be mad. Was supposed to be frustrated with her. Angry. “Why aren’t you upset? You should yell," Zofie muttered, pulling back, her black eyes filling up with tears. Azriel frowned for the first time since he walked through the door. “Have I ever raised my voice at you?" the spymaster questioned before sighing, “Well, besides earlier today, it wasn’t even at you. I wasn’t angry with you." He softly wiped the tears from beneath Zofie’s eyes. “I will never do it again. I will never see him, I promise”, she said, feeling her own body start to swirl with emotions flooding from all over the house. Fruition, confusion, pain, sadness, and dread. Gasping for air, Zofie looked back at Azriel, whose shadows quickly drowned out any distractions. Closing the two of them in the safety of cool darkness. “Breathe, little star," Azriel muttered against Zofie’s hair, “Remember how we do it?" His firm gaze met her frantically blinking eyes. One of the shadows settled at the back of her neck; the other two wrapped around her hands, cooling the main point of her anxious spell.

“You’re safe." Azriel slowly ran his hand up and down her back, trying to comfort her the best he could. “I can't," her pained breaths ripped at Azriel, but he knew that now any excess emotions had to be suppressed, “We’re in your safe bubble." With a fluster of his wings, Azriel wrapped them around the two of them. “Press your palms against me; let it out," and she would have, but suddenly it made her stomach twist. Because this man. Man who didn’t have to take her in. Would know that she had all of these thoughts. From hate. To frustration. All directed at him. All because she was being naive. “I can't," she said, pulling back and hitting her father’s leathery wings. “Of course you can; you’ll burn out otherwise," Azriel urged her, “Come on, baby." She knew that he was desperate for a reason. Zofie had sent herself into overdrive once, and it wasn’t pretty. She could barely stand for weeks. No speech. She could barely get food down. That had been the first time she had seen Azriel with a full stubble. He had refused to leave her, even for a minute. He had been there. Always been there looking out for her. Another painful cry slipped past her lips, and everything went black.

Azriel pov:

Azriel’s eyes lingered on Zofie’s limp body lying in bed. He had been fixing the throw covering Zofie for the past hour. One moment it seemed too high up, and so she no doubt had to be too warm, but then the other he feared that she wasn’t warm enough. Azriel knew there was no way to measure the impact of the outburst until morning. Till Zifie opened her eyes. And she would open her eyes because...

“You should get some sleep”, your soft voice made Azriel turn from the bed. Some of the tension eased. It always did when you were around. His beautiful mate. Mother of his children. “I’m not tired," he muttered, fingers lazily running up and down Zofie’s arm. "Azriel, you can’t fool me." The moment your hands touched Azriel’s shoulders, he instantly felt warmth seeping through his aching bones. “How are you doing?", Azriel knew what that question implied because he had a feeling that you were aware of where the roots of all of this were.

“How can she think that I don’t love her?", Azriel shook his head, “Had I seriously been so... shortsighted?” You cupped his face tenderly. “She knows, she’s simply confused. Emotions are running high…”, “That was days of amped-up frustration that I’ve caused, YN”, his tone was much higher, and the moment that hit Azriel, his hand instantly came to clasp his mouth.

“It’s okay. You’re okay," you gently reached for both of his hands, giving them a little squeeze. “She’s growing up, Azriel. Things are strange and new”, leaning in, pressing your forehead against his, “She was scared that your yellow was fading," you admitted. “My love for her hasn’t changed," Azriel muttered. “I know, love, but your heart is now making room for Novie, and I think insecurities are running high." Azriel glanced back at Zofie. He never looked at her differently. Never treated her like a dainty porcelain doll. Yes, he protected her. Was ready to go to war for her. Because he had always seen her as his. He understood what having inner demons meant. To this day, Azriel had days when battling them got way too much. Hence, he had always craved to protect them so much. That desire to chase any doubt away fueled him because they deserved better. They deserve to know life in vibrant colors, not dim grays and blacks.

Azriel’s eyes fell on Zofie again. The girl had shifted slightly, curling deeper into herself. “Will you be good up there alone tonight?" Azriel gazed up at his mate. The raw instinct beat at him to go up to his bedroom and guard the new mother of his child, to be devoted to tending to them only. But it wasn’t Zofie’s nor Axel’s fault that the same blood didn’t bond them all. And Azriel had promised to protect them like his own, so as hard as it was, now he knew that he had to step down on the primal instinct and put his first children into the equation too. You smiled lovingly up at him and said, “I won’t be alone. Your mother is here, and Axel should be coming home soon." Stepping forward, you let yourself snuggle into Azriel’s chest for a heartbeat. Pouring as much love and reassurance into the embrace as you could. Azriel’s lips lingered on your forehead. “If you need me..." he muttered, but you instantly shook your head. “Stay with her, Azriel. She needs you," and that was all it took for Azriel to nod. His shadows carefully blew out a handful of candles lighting up the room. Leaving a bare minimum of light that wouldn’t bother anyone’s slumber, and if by any chance Zofie was to wake up during the night, he didn’t want her to open her eyes to darkness. As carefully as he possibly could, Azriel scooped Zofie’s tiny frame into his arms before climbing into her bed. Out of shared instinct, the spymaster started to hum the melody he used to hum to the two kids when they were younger, and nights of settling down were harder. His scared fingers carefully brushed her ink-black hair away from her face. Lips turning upwards as he let her way more mature features sink in. Never had he thought that he would be wishing the time would go slower. But it also filled him with endless pride that he too had played a role in making sure this tiny girl would slowly grow into a strong-minded young woman. With a deep sigh, Azriel pressed a loving kiss onto Zofie’s forehead, making the girl snuggle deeper into her father’s chest. “I’ll always love you, little star. As overbearing as I can be, I will always love you the most because you taught me what it was like to be a father”, he muttered, settling in to watch over her for the night.

Nyx’s pov:

Nyx had been looking through the window of his mother’s gallery for the past couple of hours. He rubbed his chest at times when the feeling of anxiety threatened to choke him out. His mind was running so fast that there were moments when he lost hold of it. Thought after thought, angrily beating at his consciousness.

“Are you antsy about going back?", Feyre’s voice made him grip the window sill tighter. He had forgotten that his mother had even been here with him for a moment. "No," he said bluntly. He wasn’t sure what he was feeling if he was being honest. He haven't been able to keep up with any of the emotions for some time now. They all seemed so tangled up that he didn’t know where one started and the other ended. Or it was so chaotic that he was sure that he felt all of it at once, and the feeling sure wasn’t pretty. It was different with Zofie, though. For some reason, his inner chaos always subsided when she was close. It felt calmer. It was as if she was there, sorting through his mess for him.

“Really?", Feyre’s amused voice filled the room. Nyx loved his mother. She was an example of hope to him. Every time he lost faith in the future, he would look for her memory books, ones she had sat down with Rhys to write while she had been pregnant with him. Nyx just wished they would understand that now he wasn’t sure if his own story linked with his parents.

“It’s what we do as soldiers; we need to earn our rank," he answered sharply with an exhale. He didn’t want to fight with his mother. Nor did he want to make her upset. He just didn’t want to talk about anything regarding this court. “And if you didn’t give me a textbook answer?" Feyre dunked her brushes into the water, turning to face her sun. Nyx knew that while he could hide his inner battles from his father with anger. His mother was way harder to fool. Nyx simply shrugged, not knowing what exactly she was trying to get out of him.

“It’s okay to have things that you miss back home," her delicate hands inked with marriage vows cupped Nyx’s face as she gazed up at him. “You treat her well?" At those words, Nyx had gone ridged. “What?", he muttered, stepping away. “Do you treat Zofie well?", Feyre smiled at him. Nyx wasn’t surprised that she knew about their little adventure last night, but this seemed like a lot more of an intentional question. One that implied way more.

“Of course, I treat her well," Nyx grumbled with a frown. “What kind of question is that?" he asked, shaking his head in frustration. Why was everyone constantly assuming that he was out there, like some old creep following her around? It wasn’t intentional that their paths crossed so often. They just did...

“Do you love her?", That question had sent all the oxygen out of Nyx’s lungs. Making him gape at his mother as if she had grown a third eye on her forehead. “No, Mom, what even… We grew up together!", Nyx threw his arms up in the air in frustration, which suddenly washed over him. “And that’s supposed to be an issue?", Feyre simply smiled up at him. That kind of smile implied that she was up for a chance to change his mind. Nyx turned away, moving to glance out of the window once more. “Whatever. I’m not even going to entertain this conversation." His mother let out a knowing laugh, returning to her painting once more.

Nyx gazed out into the night. His eyes narrowed out on a figure that slipped out of the library’s back door. Leaning forward, he tried to identify the figure. He knew that whoever it was had to have a pass from his parents. “Is that…?", Nyx trilled off. It couldn’t be because they had separated and... “Axel? Yes”, Nyx gazed back at his mother, who hadn’t even lifted her eyes to look out the window. That fucking lying bastard. I’ll be heading home my ass. “Have you hired him to work in the library?", Nyx had frowned in confusion. But Feyre shook her head. “Gwyn is helping new girls settle into quarters. Axel kindly offered to carry boxes”, the high lady said as if there wasn’t anything else.

“Carry boxes, mhm." Nyx watched as Axel stopped in his tracks before waving up at someone. The princeling’s eyes followed the gesture, finding another figure, barely visible in the sixth-floor window, waving right back. Why was he always on the sidelines with everyone? Why hadn’t Axel said anything about this to him yet?

“He’s a sweetheart," his mother hummed in approval. “There was a girl who hadn’t left her room in over a week. Axel managed to coax her out in a day," no doubt a girl Nyx had seen slipping back into the library when he had bumped into Axel earlier on. “A charming young man," Feyre hummed, making Nyx shake his head. “I’ll give him your praise”, after a proper interrogation, of course.

Unfortunately, Axel’s adventures brought him little satisfaction. And quite honestly, Nyx had given up on trying to snoop around his best friend’s business. Because he knew Axel and knew that the deepest and most heartfelt conversation always struck out when they were up in camps. Nyx had been restless for the days to come. Hanging around all the places he and Zofie usually went to. He was waiting for an inkling of any deeper emotions that would drag him towards her.

They had gotten the call that tomorrow morning they would be going back. And he knew one thing—he couldn’t go back without seeing her one more time. The image of her teared up face had haunted Nyx ever since. He hated it when she cried. He hated it when she was upset. But it seemed as if she had just disappeared into thin air. Nyx had hoped to see her at dinner in the lake house last night, but Y/N had simply said that Zofie wasn’t feeling well. Had something happened afterward? Had her magic flared up once more? But twice in two days. That would be way too much. Or maybe she was just avoiding him?

Stomping through the high grass, Nyx let his mind consume him once more. He knew that Rhys had called a meeting that afternoon. Meaning that Azriel and Cassian were both in the office now. If he was lucky, the females would also be there, meaning that only Zofie’s grandma would be at the house. Nyx rounded the back of the house. He hadn’t made any plans. Hadn't thought of what he was going to say. He wasn’t even sure why he was so nervous to see her. They knew each other like the backs of their heads. Nyx’s movements halted when he reached the back garden, and his ears picked up on a light rustling.

But it took him a peek from behind the hedges to glimpse at the only source of light that he had for as long as he could remember. Zofie was humming quietly as she hung the wet clothes on the lining. Gently smoothing down the fabric. Hair messily done up. He frowned at the lack of warmer clothes on her body. The sun was way warmer today, but the yellow dress with a thick knit sweater still felt too little to keep her delicate frame warm.

She was hanging the last piece of baby clothes when Nyx stepped right behind her, making Zofie’s hands freeze in the air. Shoulders stiffening. "Zo...", Nyx didn’t even have enough time to finish calling out to her when she finally turned to face him. “What are you doing here?" A slight frown creased her brows. “I wanted to... We go back tomorrow”, he muttered under his breath, her slightly dismissive tone hurting him way more than he thought it would.

"Okay," Zofie muttered, turning to pick up the basket. “Okay? That’s all?", Nyx reached for her hand, but Zofie pulled it back instantly. "What…", Nyx breathed out, his heart racing in his chest. Making his throat feel tight. “Look me in the eyes," he demanded, way harsher than he intended, but this wasn’t them. She wasn’t cold with him. She…

"Go," Zofie said simply. “No, not until you tell me what’s going on," Nyx pushed. “It’s best if we don’t meet up for a bit," Zofie said, wrapping her arms around herself as the colder breeze picked up. Clouds covered up the rays of sun peaking out moments ago. Nyx instantly felt the urge to pull her closer and shield her from the icy wind. “Is Azriel...", “Don’t drag my father into this. You have no right to drag him into this and to speak for me," she said, pointing a warning finger at him. He knew that he had stepped on the line with his last interaction with his uncle, but... "Go, Nyx, have a safe trip," Zofie said, pushing the loose strands of her hair beneath her ears.

"Sunny," his words were barely a whisper, but she simply shook her head and said, “We are no longer children. It’s time we grow up." Zofie rested the basket on her hip. “My world and your world... they’re different," Zofie muttered, and Nyx swore he saw the way her lower lip quivered. “You fit perfectly in my world... You’re my best friend," Nyx called out to her as she turned to walk away, his feet carrying him straight to her without hesitation. His palms reached out to her, cupping her face, and a slight shiver ran through her at his touch. They were inches away. She was a breath away. Nyx’s purple eyes desperately searching for any clues as to why she was shutting him out. Zofie’s free hand pushed against Nyx’s chest as she pulled free of his embrace. “Have a safe trip," she muttered, her hesitant fingers reaching up to touch Nyx’s cheeks, but the moment he leaned into the touch, Zofie turned back, rushing towards the patio stairs. "Sunny," Nyx called out, but she was already at the door. So he stood there. He stood there until the sky started weeping alongside him. Taking to the skies with an angry cry.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Taglist: @sirenpearldust @historygeekqueen @hnyclover @i-am-a-lost-girl16 @naturakaashi @stressed-reader @woodland-mist @goldenmagnolias @nocasdatsgay @lees-chaotic-brain

[lovebugism]

If you’re still taking requests for the blurbs could I request my favorite couple Punchy and Steve with this prompt?

“let’s wear matching ugly christmas sweaters to the party! ❞ 

thank u for requesting lovie! — hours before the harrington holiday party, steve's worried if his parents will like you while you think of ways to make the whole thing more fun (punchy x steve universe, hurt/comfort, 0.9k)

blurbcember ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

Cotton sheets cling to Steve’s sweat-slick body. He lies face down on the mattress, curls his golden arms around the pillow that smells most like you, and smushes his cheek into the center of it. He watches with heavy eyelids as you flit around the bedroom, only half-dressed — the high-strung thing that you are.

You stand outside your closet in black cotton underwear and a striped pink bra, ciphering through all of your clothes until you have three different outfits hanging on your arm. They’re all in black, but Steve’s been with you long enough to know that they’re all varying shades of the same color. (He thinks you might’ve made up the color heather grey charcoal, though).

“I take it you’re excited for tonight?” the boy teases when you set your clothes on the foot of the mattress. His smile is rosy and half-hidden in the pillow, weighed down by fatigue and all the love he has for you.

“Of course, I am!” you insist, giddy in a way he hasn’t really seen you. “You’re not?”

“No,” he answers plainly, pouting like a child.

Your laugh sounds like sunshine compared to the rain cloud he is. “Don’t be so grumpy. It’ll be fun.”

Steve scoffs and turns onto his back, folding his toned arms under his wild head. The thin sheet wraps around his waist accordingly. His chestnut-colored happy trail peeks from beneath it — just for you, you think.

“It’s a Christmas party. At my parents’ house,” he explains in a monotone. “I think that's the furthest thing from fun, babe.”

“Well, we can make it fun,” you shrug, as unfazed as ever. It makes sense. Excitement tends to follow you wherever you go. “We can, like, sneak in booze or something. Oh— or smoke in your childhood bedroom! That would be fun.”

“My parents would freak.”

You think for a moment, then shrug again. “I mean, we could wear matching ugly Christmas sweaters or something. That’s innocent and fun.”

Steve doesn’t mean to laugh, but a small chuckle spills from his kiss-bitten mouth before he can stop it. “You’re so cute,” he mumbles lowly, honey eyes sparkling with amusement and adoration.

“I know,” you concur as you smooth out the skirt of a black lace dress. You try to be nonchalant about the way his simple compliment stirs rays of sunshine within you, but they come bursting out of your sheepish smile anyway. “Thank you…”

“You’re welcome,” he says, huffing as he rises on the mattress. Still slightly exhausted, he slouches and reaches lazily for you. His dramatic grabby hands make you scoff, but you gravitate towards him without thinking twice.

You fold your legs beneath you as his wide palms smooth over your waist. He squeezes gently at your love handles and tries to muster a smile. The pink expression wavers slightly at the edges.

“Just… Just don’t take it too hard if my parents are assholes at first, okay? Or if they’re, you know, cold or whatever. They’re not usually fans of… fun.”

Your grin never falters. “That’s okay,” you assure, light and sincere. “I’m one of the two town freaks, remember? I’m kinda used to people not liking me.”

You giggle about it, but Steve’s chest starts to ache. He thinks his heart might be breaking a little.

“They just need to get to know you, you know? Then they’ll fall in love with you. I know they will.”

His confidence makes you cower. You’re not as sure as he is about the whole thing. You’re not exactly rich-parent, nice-house, good-side-of-town material. You think you might be the exact opposite of who most people would want to bring home to their parents.

“You think so?” you murmur, hands fidgetting where they rest on the outsides of his biceps. You hope he doesn’t notice how clammy they are.

“I mean… I did,” he answers with a scrunched nose and twinkling eyes.

A beat of silence passes. Steve smiles until you roll your eyes at him. Then his brows pinch. “What’s that face for?” he asks, chuckling at the frown that furrows your brows.

“You’re so cheesy,” you grumble, shoving gently at his bare chest. Not enough to push him away, of course. Just enough to make a point.

His laugh is golden and utterly boyish. “But it’s true!”

“I know,” you insist with a small scoff in place of a laugh. “You didn’t look twice at me in high school, and now you’re naked in my bed. So obviously something switched.”

Steve flashes you a lopsided grin and tilts his scruffy jaw to his freckled shoulder. “Is it everything you ever dreamed of?” he teases.

“Oh. Totally,” you laugh. “I definitely had a wet dream about this once.”

His face swirls in disdain. “You’re disgusting.”

“And you love me. So who’s the real freak here?”

“It’s always gonna be you,” he says with a big, dumb smile. You roll your eyes again but let him kiss you, anyway. He tastes like sex and the frozen pizza you made him after. You’re sure you taste much of the same.

“And guess what?” he wonders when he pulls away.

Your face falls flat. You humor him even though you know what’s coming. “What?”

“I’m always gonna love you for it, too—”

You shove him away entirely. His boyish laugh follows you all the way to the bathroom.

[morganski-19]

Chills Right to the Marrow Part 64

ao3 link| part 1 . . . part 61, part 62, part 63

the first part takes place after part 53, the second takes place after part 55, and the last before/during part 52

“Jesus Christ this wallpaper is terrible,” Eddie comments as he shuts the door behind him. As he, apparently, followed Steve up the stairs. Because he can’t give Steve a moment to deal with this. To not yell at him for not being prepared.

“I said I don’t want to talk about this again,” he repeats. Firm in his tone.

Eddie practically falls onto Steve’s bed, rolling to lay on his back. “I’m not focusing on that right now. I’m focusing on the fact that I just climbed a flight of stairs and am fucking winded. Holy shit, when did stairs become so hard.”

Steve snorts. Grateful for a moment where he can think of something else.

“So this is Steve Harrington’s room, huh,” Eddie continues. “This is what all the girls were so excited to see. From what I can see from laying down, I guess it’s ok. The décor is terrible though, what the hell is this furniture.” He pauses, because Steve took off his shirt, briefly, before slipping on a sweatshirt. “Oh, never mind, I get it.”

“You knew that they weren’t coming here for the furniture,” Steve mocks, laying down next to Eddie.

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Well aware. Just a joke. And maybe my round about way of asking to see you without clothes.”

“Could just be direct. Not like it would be unwanted or anything.” He takes a deep breath. “But that’s not what you came up here for.”

“That is not what I came up here for,” Eddie confirms. He turns on his side, looking at Steve. “I know you don’t want to talk about it, and I know Robin keeps bothering you about it, but I think not talking about it is worse.”

“Eddie,” Steve exhales.

“And,” he persists, “there is something that you’re not saying. And I think it’s better if you did.”

Steve lets out a deep breath, sitting up and Eddie does the same. He looks at Steve expectantly, but patiently. Reaching to take one of Steve’s hands and hold it. Waiting for him to open up.

“The more I think back on times in my life,” Steve starts, “my parents weren’t always terrible parents. When I was a kid, my dad would play catch with me in the yard, put in the pool when he learned I loved to swim, would help my study when I needed it. My mom, she would take me to the movies on my days off from school, bring me to the park, read to me. They went to all my games, had interest in my life and my friends, even insisted they met Nancy when they learned we were dating. Even if by then they had already pulled back.”

It was more for approval, he realizes now. But then, it was everything. There were times that Steve could look back on and try to find something wrong, something that made them out to be bad, but he couldn’t. There were other times that proved the exactly opposite of that, plenty of those times, but they all happened later.

Before high school, his parents were there. They seemed to enjoy being parents. Even if it was all a ruse, even if it was for a motive not obvious at the time, it still felt real.

“Sometime in high school, they just stopped caring. My dad cheated on my mom, and she started following him on all his business trips. They were home less and less. Each time they came back, it was clear that they weren’t interested in hearing about me anymore. This house was just a pit stop for them.”

Before, back in middle school, report card day used to terrify him. He was never good at math or science, something he could never wrap his mind around. No matter how hard he tried, he could never get that grade to an “A”. Something to be proud of. Yet, every time that report came through the mail, he was greeted with a smile from his mother, and a good effort from his dad. A motivating message to try and get better. It felt good in the moment.

There were a lot of moments like that. Where it felt good in the moment, but as Steve grew up, he understood the tone a little more. The meaning behind the eyes he was too scared to look in. It finally set in when he almost failed his freshman algebra. Passing wasn’t good enough, it wasn’t rewarded, just accepted. A lot of things were accepted and not revered.

Trophies were never allowed downstairs. It was a shelf in Steve’s room, that was their place. Because he should be proud of them, and be happy to look at them every day. And when people came over, his parents got to boast and have him run up the stairs to go and fetch the trophy for viewing, before being shunned again.

It wasn’t until he went over to Nancy’s for the first time, the proper first time, and saw Mike’s science fair ribbon hanging on the fridge next to Nancy’s straight “A” report. Dozens of pictures that Holly drew decorating their fridge. That was what real pride looked like. Even if they were just there for the day, it wasn’t shunned. It was acknowledged.

Steve’s accomplishments, his personality, his life was kept from the rest of the house. From them. Everything they ever cared about was things that could be bragged, and then hidden back away. When his notoriety ended, so did their love.

“I wasn’t interesting for them anymore.”

Eddie squeezes his hand, leaning on his shoulder. Steve didn’t realize that he started crying, not until a tear dripped off his chin and fell onto his lap. He stares at the small dark stain, and finds a way to finish.

“And as much as I hate them, as much as I can now see how bad they really were. There is still this part of me that is waiting for them to come back. Them selling the house is just proof that they never are.”

The air feels cleaner now that he’s said it out loud. The room less heavy, his mind a little more blank.

“They don’t deserve you,” Eddie says quietly. Using his hand to pull him closer, kissing his temple. “They don’t deserve you at all.”

“No, no they don’t.” Steve shakes his head, looking around at the only bedroom he’s ever known. “Where am I supposed to go after this?”

Eddie’s hand cups Steve’s cheek, his thumb rubbing away the tears. “One step at a time, right. We’ll get through this one step at a time. This is step one right here. Step two can come when it needs to. Step one point five can be us, sitting here, while you feel whatever you need to feel. Then we’ll get up, and we’ll eat something because I don’t know about you but I’m fucking starving. And then maybe we can watch a movie or something.”

Steve laughs, turning to look at Eddie. “I think I can do that.”

. . .

“So you’re moving in with Eddie?” Dustin asks unprompted.

Steve stills, setting the pile of tapes on the counter. “Uh, yeah, I am. How did you know that?”

They didn’t tell the kids about that yet.

“Not that hard to guess, considering you’ve been dating in secret.”

Also didn’t tell them about that.

He looks around, instinctively making sure no one is there. Even though the front door is locked, Steve just finishes up his closing tasks before he can go. Dustin had insisted that he stay so he didn’t have to bike home in the dark, which was a ruse, he knew. He just hoped that this wasn’t why.

It’s not like he never wanted Dustin to know. Just, that he wanted a bit more time. Robin knowing didn’t mean much, Wayne knowing meant it couldn’t go as unacknowledged. Telling Dustin meant it was real, though. This was it. No take backs if they mess up. No reverting back into awkward friends. Their relationship was real. Known.

Which wouldn’t be such of a problem if Steve wasn’t so scared he was going to mess it up. Every past relationship he’s had, even the small ones, have proven to him that things don’t tend to work out for him. It starts out great, better than he could possibly have imagined, and then it goes south. He says things he regrets, they say things they regret. It’s awkward for two years until a murderous psychopath forces them to spend enough time together to find a way to be friends again.

Robin says he’s projecting too much, but he thinks it’s being cautious. He’s been hurt. Sue him if he didn’t want to be hurt again.

“No one’s here, Steve,” Dusitn confirms when he notices him looking around. “It’s just me.”

Somehow, that doesn’t make it any better.

“I know.”

He truly doesn’t know how Dustin is going to respond. Which side he’s going to pick. He was close with both of them, it was going to be hard.

Steve was hoping Dustin would pick him, but he’s not sure about that.

Dustin makes a motion for him to continue, as if he’s supposed to have something to say.

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to say here. You seem like you already know everything.”

“I don’t know,” he exclaims. “Maybe hearing how long? How it happened? When you figured out you liked dudes? Something.”

Steve sighs, setting in more tapes to be rewound before answering. “When I worked at the mall, that’s when I figured out I liked guys. Or when I started to question it, I guess. I don’t think it was until after that I finally accepted it.”

Dustin nods, taking it all in. “And when you started liking Eddie?”

“I’m not exactly sure on that one. I know it was somewhere between getting stuck in the upside down and the final battle. But it all kind of hit me before we split off.”

“So that Nancy thing, that was all a fluke?”

He shrugs. “Yeah, kind of.”

“You know you are going to make this insanely complicated for me if you guys break up.”

“I am aware.” He switches out the tapes again. “Hoping that doesn’t happen, though.”

Dustin’s silent for a moment. Steve’s waiting for the shovel talk, ensuring that he doesn’t hurt Eddie. A sign that he’s lost Dustin in the potential breakup. Proof that, again, no one was going to stay.

“You seem happier,” Dustin says instead. “I didn’t notice it at first. But after you guys stopped fighting with each other, which is when I’m assuming you started dating, you changed. I haven’t seen you this happy before.”

Before Steve can find anything to respond to that, Dustin comes around the counter and hugs him.

“I know you didn’t exactly tell me the way you wanted, but I’m glad I know. And I’m glad that you’re happy.”

Steve smiles. “Thanks.”

“I’ll egg his house or something if he ever breaks your heart.”

He laughs. Selfish relief washing over him. “I appreciate it.”

. . .

His room never was the most cluttered thing there was, but it was still weird seeing it bare. His drawers empty, the pile in the back of his closet finally cleaned out. It was the end of something.

Life is always described in chapters. One bit of life ends, and the next begins. For Steve, though, it felt like up until this moment was one book. Everything that included this house was all tied together in one binding. The novel that this house created impacting its reader enough for a lifetime. Impacting Steve for a lifetime.

Tomorrow, when he leaves this house for the last time, he hopes that it starts a new book, instead of a chapter. A completely fresh start. A sequel, of sorts, but a whole new plot to further his future. His life. Something else to be the conflict that weighs on him.

He hopes that tomorrow, he can walk through the front door for the last time and leave all the pain this house gave him behind.

“Holy shit,” Robin says while helping him find anything else he wants to keep in the house. “Is this you?”

He turns to find her holding a large photo album. It’s been years since he’s seen that. “Yeah. I think was five in that picture.”

“I haven’t seen a picture of you before you were twelve, I thought you popped out as a preteen.”

Steve laughs. “If you want to keep thinking that don’t turn to the front of the album.”

Her eyes widen as she flips to the first page, many pictures of Steve as a baby laid out on the pages. Robin starts teasing him, saying how she’s going to find a weird one and make it a point to show everyone. Which isn’t going to be hard, considering the outfits his mom used to make him wear.

It’s nice, knowing that someone liked to look at these pictures. Wants to keep them, somehow. He always thought his mom took the book with him, but it was in the one cabinet in the living room the whole time. A sad feeling washes over him that his mom was going to sell the house without coming to get it back. But it’s nice to know he gets to be the one to keep it. It’s better in his hands anyway.

“What’d you find,” Eddie asks, coming into the room.

“Baby pictures,” Robin jumps to explain. “Look at Steve in this stupid outfit.”

Steve makes a face when he sees that one. He doesn’t remember wearing it, but it looks like so many others he was forced to wear. All of them were so itchy.

“Oh my God. You were so little.” Eddie takes the book and looks closer, before bursting out laughing. “What the fuck is that hat?”

“I will never know what went through my mom’s head when she dressed me like this.” Steve lets them look a little longer before taking it and placing it in one of his boxes. Going back to searching for anything else he wants to keep, or steal.

Eddie has started finding his own things as well, and Robin. They both had what they considered fancy blankets and pillows that they wanted to keep. Some of the kitchen stuff is already at the house, but Steve is making sure he has what he’ll need when he eventually moves out as well. And then there are the movies and records he wants to keep. He’s also taking the nice record player, because why not really.

Not much he really wants to keep, though. Except for his room, much of the space was never really his. He didn’t need all the fancy decorations and excessive touches. That all could stay and die in the house.

But the photo album, the things that he allowed himself to add over time, the memories he wanted to keep, that was all his. It was allowed to leave with him.

“I can’t believe that you’re actually leaving this place,” Robin says while helping him load some boxes into his car. “I thought I’d have to drag you out of there.”

Steve scoffs. “I would have left eventually. Just . . . wanted some time to process everything first.”

She stands next to him, staring up at the house. “You know, I’m only going to the community college in the next town, it wouldn’t be a stretch to see if we could get a place together. Be close for both of us.”

“That’d be nice. I don’t think I want to live alone anymore.”

He drives her home, leaving some of the boxes he doesn’t immediately need and her parents graciously offered to hold in their basement. Then he drives back to his house that’s only his for one more night. It will be the last time he ever drives up the driveway. What a weird feeling that is.

Eddie’s waiting for him when he comes home. Watching something on the tv. “You ready for tomorrow?” he asks, softly, as Steve comes and sits next to him.

“I’m not sure.” He wraps an arm around Eddie, pulling him close.

“I guess we’ll figure it out together then.”

“Yeah.”

Much like when Steve feelings for Eddie started, he can’t tell the exact moment that they turned into loving him. There was just a morning when he woke up, and it was the first thought in his mind. He spent so long fearing for the next time he fell in love, he forgot how nice it felt at all. With Eddie, it just felt right. He couldn’t explain it, but it was freeing.

The evening is the normal he’s become accustomed to. A house that doesn’t suck the life out of him, simply because there is someone there. Someone to drag his attention away from the space that is left empty.

When he wakes up the next morning, it’s before anyone else.  He walks through the house one more time, the quiet surrounding him. It’s not as suffocating. It doesn’t drag him in and keep him there. Instead, it pushes him out the door for the last time, as ready for a new start as he is.

The last of the boxes get put in his car, in Wayne’s truck. He locks up, slides his key off the key ring and places it in the envelope with the rest of the copies. Takes his ability to enter this house and puts it in the mailbox. Leaving the house behind.

So many memories in this house, a mix of good and bad. He thought that leaving would feel like a massive weight off his shoulders, something to make him feel different. There is that lose of weight, but nothing that makes him feel that different. Nothing that makes the change hard, it was all easy.

Yet, when he makes the turn off his street, and heads to the other side of the town, he feels a sense of freedom he can’t describe. One that makes him smile for no real reason at all. Sun glaring in his eyes as it moves into the afternoon.

He pulls into the driveway of the Munson’s house, feet no longer stuck to the ground. He is moving forward now. Moving on.

It’s terrifying, but he’s ready for it.

I cannot express in this moment how much I will miss writing this fic. It has been an experience for me that I was not expecting when I started it, but came to me in moments when I needed it the most. Tomorrow I will post the very long reflection post I do for my fics, where I will be able to go into how and why this fic means so much to me, so check back to my blog for that if interested. But for now, I further cannot express the love I have for all of you readers. Writing this was never something I imagined to get the support that I have. I found myself surprised to see you all read this, and react in the way that you did. To know that I wrote a story that other people loved as much as me is something I can never understand, but am grateful for every day. To those who have left likes, reblogs, and comments, know that I read and saw every single one. I awaited your reactions, and they always brought a smile to my face. Thank you for your support, it means more than you can ever know. Thank you for reading this story, it was a pleasure writing it.

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@papergrenade, @waelkyring, @sweetheartprincess28, @katouasobj, @astercomoasflores

[thelikesoffinn]

Bro why do u hate ascended Asterion so much? He's still asterion

Would you believe me if I told you that I actually don't hate ascended Astarion? Because I really don't!

Now, do I think it's a sad ending? Yes, yes I do. But do I hate it? Absolutely not.

Quite the opposite, actually. I do like the ascended ending for what it is - the bad ending. It's really really well written and I do enjoy it in it's own special way. What I don't like, however, is the attitude a lot of people face it with.

This entire 'ascension is the best ending for him' and 'it's the right choice for him, even if it isn't good'. 'not letting him ascend is selfish because that is what he wants!', 'he still loves you after ascension' and 'he's still the same, just strong' is what I dislike.

Like, if you're into that ending and you prefer it for some reason, that's totally cool, but claiming this is the best ending for him? Damn, that hurts my heart and my soul.

Why I can't even say. Maybe it's because of who I am - both a social worker and a child raised by abusive, narcissistic parents - but to me it's glaringly obvious what ascension will cost him. It's so clear what he is giving up and WHY he is giving it up because, in my own way, I've been there myself. And I've worked with people who've been there as well. (Less murderous, obviously, but equally as self-destructive!)

And because I've been there - on both sides, his and Tav's - I know that none of that will be necessary if there's one person next to him that says 'Hey. Astarion, I know you're hurting but...you don't need to run and hide anymore. You're free and...you're enough.'

So everytime someone claims that ascension is the best ending for him, that it's his good ending and that not letting him ascend is the selfish thing to do, oh boy. It really grinds my gears!

But, in the end, I don't hate the ascended ending at all.

If we're talking companion-endings that I hate, I'd personally propose Karlach choosing death, actually! Because that? That's just unnecessarily dumb.

I know she doesn't want to go back and I know why, I really do, but the thing is...It won't be like before. Things have already changed and they will keep on changing from now on. She's a different Karlach already, so the change is unavoidable! I mean, she's not working for Zariel anymore and, even more importantly: She won't be alone! She has friends now, actual friends that would definitely accompany her if she asked them to. Shit, Wyll even offers it up on his own without being asked! She can come back to the surface from time to time, because it seems like her heart can take periods outside of Avernus as long as she returns once it get's bad. Like, shit, make the House of Hope your homebase, girl! Granted, Hope is a bit ditzy but I'm sure she'll be a joy to be around! And it doesn't even need to be forever! Like, come on, we're already trying to make sure that a fucking vampire can walk in the sun without the use of a tadpole or ascension, I'm sure we can all pencil in 'find a new heart for babygirl' or whatever. And there's Dammon!!! Dammon is smart and talented and unnecessarily handsome and lovable, so he'll surely find a way to fix that darn engine as long as she's alive!

So yeah, that's an ending I actually do hate! Maybe because it feels like conversations I have with clients all the time - scared people and people with trauma can be so extremely stubborn, believe it or not - so it just hits a nerve, haha.

(Oh and I also hate Lae'zel's ascension. The girl is so smart and still doesn't notice how full of shit Vlaakith is? Nah, that's just heresy, I won't accept that one. I know loyalty and morals are a thing, but still no. Blegh.)

[pennymissworld]

hi guys - this is sort of a post with a different tone. but please read

home life has recently gotten a lot more difficult than ever thought of. i’ve started a buy me a coffee. i’m struggling to get a job, and need to get some source of income so i can just live.

i have divorced parents that live on opposite sides of my city, and neither of my houses are really safe or stable. my mum’s house is hoarder-level messy and my mum is not in a mentally stable place. my dad has an issue with alcohol and can’t afford to buy me necessary items, like pads and my medication. there’s a lot of love i haven’t gotten, neither of my parents are good at hiding their favouritism with my siblings and i.

i know there are countless other people who have it worse than me, and i’m not trying to act like i’m the only one struggling—but i AM struggling. i want to do more than just survive; i want to live.

this buy me a coffee is a tiny step toward my independence. every bit helps me save money for when i eventually move out and create a life that feels safe, quiet, and mine.

please, if you can, help me out!!!! any donations, reblogs, anything, is so appreciated.

https://buymeacoffee.com/pennyloserlane

[themultifandomgal]

Ethan Choi- One Up

Warnings- talks about miscarriage and toxic sister. Also if your waiting for a request I’m working on them. Hoping to get them up end of the week maybe next week.

When we were kids, my sister Phoebe and I were the best of friends. We did everything together, yes she was 2 years older but we loved each other. However things changed when we were at high school. We drifted  apart, she was popular, I wasn't. She was your typical thin pretty girl who had all the boys chasing her, I however wasn't like that.

Then when she graduated she went to collage to be a makeup artist. When I left school I went to collage to be a nurse, a year later my sister decided to go to school to become a doctor.

When I moved into my first apartment she moved into a house.

When I started dating Ethan, a doctor at Med where I work, my sister started dating a CEO of a company. When Ethan proposed we rang my parents, Phoebe, her boyfriend and Ethan's sister Emily to our apartment for food to celebrate. Of course as soon as I say 'Ethan and I are engaged' Phoebe comes out with 'well Alexander and I also got engaged today' and shows us her ring. How does she do this? How did she know? So the meal to celebrate my engagement turned out to be a meal to celebrate her engagement as well, which ok fine I can't grumble to much, but could she not have waited until the following day?

Mine and Ethan's wedding was perfect, except for when Phoebe had to tell everyone that she was going to get married in Mexico. Why did she have to do this at my wedding? It's like she is constantly trying to one up me.

After our wedding Ethan and I decided we wanted to try for a baby, before we knew it we were painting our spare room and Ethan was building a crib. That was all put on hold when I woke up one night in pain and was bleeding. Miscarriage.

I waited a couple of days before I told my parents who insisted that Ethan and I come over for a home cooked meal. I asked Ethan sister to come for support, because knowing my sister she will have something to say. And boy was I right.

"We don't have to go if you don't feel ready" Ethan takes my hand in his and gives it a squeeze

"Yeah I can go and tell everyone that your not feeling well" Emily says poking her head between Ethan and I

"No it's ok. I'll be fine. Come on" I open up the car door and head to the front door. I open it up, Ethan and Emily following me

"Mum? Dad?" I call out. Mum runs out of the kitchen and hugs me

"Oh my sweet girl. How are you feeling?"

"Errm ok I guess. Can we not talk about it"

"Of course. Go and sit at the table. Dinners nearly done" we walk to the dinning room where Phoebe and her husband are sat giggling. Taking a deep breath I sit opposite her with Emily and Ethan either side of me.

We eat our food which was amazing and mum brings out dessert when Phoebe has to say something

"Ok I'm glad mum and dad asked us to have this meal together because I have some, sorry, we have some exciting news"

"Your moving to the Bermuda triangle?" Emily mutters, I have to try and hide my smirk

"No" Phoebe looks at Emily annoyed then looks back at all of us smiling "I'm pregnant" immediately I feel everyone's eyes on me

"Oh... wow that's... erm congratulations" I manage to stutter out

"Thank you YN. We're super excited aren't we?" Not leaving her husband a chance to speak she continues "we've started decorating the room, we're actually 3 months along. We decided to keep it very quiet since you decided tell us all and then have a miscarriage, we didn't want to upset mum and dad anymore"

"Is she for real?" Emily looks at me. I feel a mixture of upset and anger

"We had our scan and everything is good. We even heard their heart beat, which is the best feeling the the world knowing your baby is alive and safe. That I am keeping them safe"

"I think that's enough Phoebe" mum sternly says

"Why? I thought you'd be happy to hear that your actually going to have a grandchild. Oh YN could we have the crib you bought and clothes, since your not getting to us them. Seems a shame to go to waste" that's it. Hot tear roll down my face as I stand up

"You want the clothes and crib we bought for our baby who we only lost last week?"

"Well yeah why is that a problem you have no baby coming I do"

"Your unbelievable. I didn't chose to loose mine and Ethan's baby. Your acting as if it was my fault" I leave the table and room hearing my mum and dad scold Phoebe for being so inconsiderate. I run to my old bedroom upstairs and break down into tears when the door opens. Ethan walks in and immediately wraps me up in his arms

"I'm sorry she said all that. It affects you as well. It wasn't just me that lost a baby it was you. Are you ok?" I ask looking up. Ethan is also crying now

"She had no right to ask any of that. Your mum and dad have told her to leave"

"You didn't answer my question. Are you ok?"

"I will be" Ethan kisses the top of my head and we stay like this for a little while.