#human!colin x reader

[bosbas]

Chapter 10: even my daddy just loves him

series masterlist previous part || next part

pairing: colin bridgerton x enemy!fem!reader WC: 3.5k words

Warnings: period-typical gender roles, small part of the dialogue in French, period- and class-typical views about the economy, idiots in love being idiots in love, heavy on the idiots, heavy on the in love

Summary: It took precisely two days in England for you to utterly despise Colin Bridgerton. It took him approximately twelve hours after that to hate you right back. But he doesn't care that you're the only person in the ton who doesn't like him. You're set to marry someone else anyway, right?

A/N: the first TTPD chapter title :,) also no interaction between reader and colin in this one IM SORRY it'll come soon i promise

June 23, 1816 – In the wake of yesterday's lackluster ball, one can't help but lament the dreary fashion choices on display, particularly the Featheringtons' blinding ensembles in shades of yellow. Sadly, the absence of Lady Y/N Montclair was acutely felt, as her impeccable gowns and Parisian flair were sorely missed. However, tonight at the Ashbury ball proves a wonderful opportunity for her to dazzle us with her sense of style.

“Well, don't you look gorgeous tonight,” gushed Eloise upon seeing you, kissing your cheeks in greeting. 

Your heart soared, delighted that your best friend had taken to your French customs so easily. 

“I didn’t particularly have a choice after Whistledown’s column today,” you joked, smoothing out your skirts. 

Of course, it was flattering to have the ton’s most trusted source speak about you in such a positive manner, but at times it did build a fair amount of undue pressure. Though you supposed you preferred feeling pressure to dress well over pressure to marry someone as you had with Lord Barlow.

“Either way, you look stunning. I’ve caught more than a few gentlemen staring at you already. You’d think they would have been able to pick up their jaws off the floor by now,” Eloise teased, linking arms with you, and leading you toward the far end of the ballroom. 

You politely covered your laugh with your hand, shaking your head as you assessed who was present at the ball today. More accurately, you were assessing whether Colin Bridgerton was present. 

It had been two weeks since you’d even seen him, and you were exerting more mental energy than you cared to admit pretending that you were unbothered. You supposed you couldn’t blame him. You were the one who had asked him not to speak with you anymore, and he’d listened to you better than you could have hoped. 

Secretly, you’d been hoping he would still have shown up and tried to talk to you. It was an absurd desire, you knew, but you couldn’t help it. Apart from balls like these where all you did was speak with Eloise, you had to admit that arguing with Colin was the most fun you’d had in England, and perhaps everywhere else, too. 

You hated him, you reminded yourself. And he hated you, too. Worse, actually. He had no respect for you. Or any woman in general. Which only brought you back to the shameful burning at the top of your ears every time you searched for him in a crowd.  

But you were only human. And there were times when you couldn’t help but give in to your self-sabotaging. “Is the rest of your family in attendance tonight?” you asked Eloise, trying to seem casual and uninterested. 

“Anthony and Kate are,” she responded brightly. “Benedict was able to weasel his way out of this one, I’m afraid. But it’s all for the better. He was being quite irritating at dinner last night.”

You turned to her, eyebrows raised. “I assumed you’d stay home if Benedict stayed home, too. I thought you hated these things.”

“Oh, not at all! Now that you aren’t being swarmed by suitors at every moment and I have you somewhat to myself, the balls are far more enjoyable.”

Shaking your head at her fondly, you laughed in disbelief. She was truly the only reason you hadn’t gone completely mad these past two weeks. 

Lady Whistledown, whoever she was, had proven to be quite perceptive. As she had reported, you effectively had laid your parents’ dreams of marrying you off to an Englishman to rest. You’d only told Pen and Eloise about your disillusionment, but you supposed it was rather obvious to everyone else given that you barely danced with anyone anymore. 

You looked through the crowd once again searching for the face you knew would not be there, and you felt your gut twist, but you couldn’t quite tell if it was in relief or disappointment. 

“And what about Colin?” you asked, internally cringing at not being able to help yourself. “Has he left the country again?”

Eloise looked at you carefully, noting your barely hidden grimace and shifting eyes. She would’ve laughed at how obviously painful the question was for you if she didn’t completely understand what was happening. Eloise still had no idea why you hated Colin in the first place, but she could tell that it was tearing you up inside anyway.

“No, he’s still at home, believe it or not. He just doesn’t particularly enjoy these kinds of events anymore, I suppose. It must be the ambitious mamas wanting to auction him off to their daughters,” Eloise finally responded, trying to keep her tone light. 

Although that wasn’t the whole truth, Eloise couldn’t just come out and tell you that her brother was completely in love with you and that you had broken his heart enough that he had no desire to come to ton events anymore. It would have been unusually cruel for her to do so.

Besides, she could tell you had been feeling the same way. The only difference was that your parents were not as forgiving as Violet Bridgerton, and you had to come to most balls whether you wanted to or not.

“Oh, that’s a shame, I guess,” you said, not particularly knowing how to respond. In a pathetic attempt to make it seem like you truly were unbothered, you added, “It’s rather nice when he isn’t here, though, isn’t it?”

Eloise stared at you suspiciously. Though she always thought it easier to stay away from your conflict with Colin, the curiosity was killing her. And she could only go so long before she went insane trying to figure it out.

“Why do the two of you hate each other so much, anyway?” she asked, hoping her disinterested tone would make you more likely to open up.  

No one seemed to know why you hated Colin. You weren’t particularly forthcoming with the information, but Eloise could sense that it wasn’t something trivial. Having grown to know you fairly well over your time in England, Eloise was still perplexed by this specific detail. 

Next to Eloise, you were tactfully avoiding eye contact and staring intently at the floor in front of you. You couldn’t tell her. You simply couldn’t. It wasn’t that you were worried about your reputation. You knew Eloise well enough to know that she wouldn’t spread rumors that would sully your image. 

But if you told her the truth, she’d be heartbroken. If someone were to tell you that they hated one of your brothers for the same reason you hated Colin, you would crumble. You were incredibly close with them, and knowing that they thought of women that way would crush you. And you couldn’t bring yourself to do the same to Eloise. 

Luckily, some man you’d never spoken to before asked you for a dance right at that moment. He had barely finished speaking before you placed your hand on his elbow and rushed him to the ballroom. Dancing with someone was far easier than having to figure out what you were going to say to Eloise. 

Eloise stared silently as you were whisked away to dance. She let out a small laugh in disbelief, amazed that her question had been what finally propelled you to start dancing at balls again. 

But her work tonight was not done. Shaking her head, Eloise looked around the ballroom, looking for your brother. Unsurprisingly, he was by the refreshments. 

“Hello, Louis,” greeted the Bridgerton. “I believe you might have some information that would be of interest to me.”

“I do?” asked Louis, confused. 

Eloise nodded over to where you were dancing and smiling politely and turned back to your brother with an expectant look. 

“Oh,” said Louis, catching onto what your friend was saying. “I don’t, unfortunately.”

“Are you serious?” she responded, exasperated. “She would rather dance with that…man than tell me why she hates Colin!”

Louis shot her a sympathetic look. “She won’t tell me either. But she’s never been this upset over someone, so I wager it must have been something serious.”

“Colin doesn’t even know! And he only hates her because she hated him first! It’s terribly unreasonable.” 

Having overheard the conversation about you and Colin from a few paces away, Carlos quickly joined Eloise and Louis with a knowing smile. He considered himself to be somewhat of an expert when it came to matters of the heart, having found a true love match after falling completely head over heels for your sister.

“Yes, but Colin is completely in love with Y/N,” he said. “So, I suppose he doesn’t hate her that much.”

“We know,” responded Eloise dejectedly. “That’s why I need to know why she hates him.”

“Excuse me, we? We know?” scoffed Louis. “I most certainly did not know this. What do you mean Colin loves Y/N? I should think that I would know if someone was in love with my little sister.”

Eloise looked at him, unimpressed. “I fear you only have yourself to blame, then. Colin came to every single event on the social calendar until your sister told him to stop talking to her, and he hasn’t come to another one since. Why exactly did you think that was?”

“I don’t know! I suppose I thought… I don’t know what I thought! But it doesn’t matter. He does not love her, Eloise. I know because Y/N is the exact same with Colin as he is with her.”

This time Carlos looked at Louis in disbelief. “Yes, Louis. Precisely,” he spoke slowly, nodding to make sure your brother understood.

Louis furrowed his eyebrows, eyes widening as he came to grips with the realization. “What do you mean? Does this mean that…”

“Yes,” confirmed Carlos. “Y/N loves him too.”

“What? How did I miss this?”

---

Colin was standing in Anthony’s study, arms crossed tightly over his chest as he glared at his eldest brother. 

“I won’t go,” he said defiantly.

“You will, and you will be the perfect gentleman while you’re there.”

“Why do I even need to be there? It’s not like I know what I’m doing when I hunt, anyway,” Colin huffed, uncrossing his arms and fiddling with a quill on Anthony’s desk.

Watching his brother, Anthony sighed, exasperated. “Because it would be impossibly rude not to go. And the Bridgertons, especially Colin Bridgerton, if I recall correctly, are never impossibly rude.”

Colin groaned. “It’s one hunt without me! Please-”

“Y/N won’t be there if that’s what you’re worried about. She and Eloise went to the modiste and won’t be back until later.”

“But what if-”

“She won’t be there,” assured Anthony firmly. He had an inkling about why the Montclairs had suddenly invited the Bridgerton brothers on a hunting outing, and he was not about to let Colin ruin what were most likely some very well-laid-out plans.

Colin blinked and licked his lips, still considering whether being rude to your family was worth the risk of running into you. Resigned, he sighed and turned away from his brother.

“Very well. But this is the only time I’m doing it. I’m not particularly eager to have a run-in with the woman who wishes I didn’t even exist.”

Not seeing you for two weeks had proven to be an extraordinarily difficult challenge. But it was better than having to look at your face and know that he would never be in your good graces. You wanted nothing to do with him, and it was more than he could take. 

Even though Colin had relatively successfully convinced himself that the only reason he was upset at your rejection was because he wanted to maintain his status as the best-liked member of the ton, he’d still barely been able to get out of bed since he’d last seen you. His heart ached too much when he thought of seeing you at any events. Yet it also ached when he thought of not seeing you. So he was confined to his chambers night after night, pacing as he thought of you laughing with someone else while he sat in agony at home.

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic. She can’t hate you that much,” said Anthony, rolling his eyes as he patted his brother on the back, leading him out of his study.

“You’d be surprised,” muttered Colin lowly.

---

“Frères, il nous faut causer,” announced Louis upon entering the mudroom (Brothers, we need to talk).

Seeing Edward preparing for the afternoon’s upcoming hunt alongside Philippe and Jacques, Louis cleared his throat and tried again. 

“Brothers, we must have a chat. And Edward too, I suppose.”

Philippe and Jacques looked up at their younger brother in surprise.

“A chat about what, pray tell,” asked Jacques, fiddling with his hunting boots as he placed them on his feet.

“It has come to my attention that our dearest sister Y/N might be in love with Colin Bridgerton. I thought it best to discuss the matter between us before we go out and hunt with him.”

Philippe shot his youngest brother an amused look. “Well, yes, Louis. That’s why we’re having this hunting trip.”

Louis’ face contorted into an expression that was a funny mixture of disbelief and annoyance. He most certainly did not like to be the only one out of his siblings who didn’t know something. “How does everyone know this except for me? Am I truly that clueless?”

Laughing, Jacques clapped his younger brother on the back. “I suppose it’s a certain sensibility that comes once you’re married, Louis. Don’t feel too badly about it.”

“A sensibility that comes from your wife telling you that the man is obviously in love with Y/N, is what you mean, Jacques,” Philippe quipped, looking even more amused. 

“I would’ve been able to tell!” argued Jacques. “If Chiara hadn’t told me within five minutes, I could’ve figured it out. Probably. In a few days. Who cares! We still have an advantage over Louis because we’re married, and our wives are more attuned to those things than we are.”

“Carlos was the one who told me, actually,” commented Edward. “Charlotte would have been the one to do it, but she thought it was so obvious that it wasn’t worth mentioning. I doubt I would have been able to tell on my own, anyway.” 

Louis laughed, not feeling so bad about how oblivious he was anymore. “I suppose you’re right. But I still want to be included in the scheming! How is our little hunting trip going to help Colin and Y/N come to their senses?”

Philippe sighed deeply, and Louis got the impression that he had aged about ten years in the making of this plan. “Y/N has been spectacularly miserable these past couple of weeks. That is certainly no secret. And as much as it is not in my nature to meddle in her affairs, I don’t take any joy in seeing her like this.”

Jacques nodded in agreement. “Especially after what Nigel Berbrooke said to her, we think it would be nice for her to get a love match. Something that has been made much easier by the fact that she is already in love, even if she doesn’t know it.”

Although it had been two weeks since you’d told the rest of your siblings what Mr. Berbooke had said, Louis still felt a surge of anger rise in him when he remembered his words. “He’s worse than Barlow, that one.”

“I was at Eton with Berbrooke, and I assure you it was torture,” agreed Edward, crinkling his nose as he recalled his younger years alongside Nigel. 

Sending his brother-in-law a sympathetic look, Louis continued, “That still doesn’t solve the main problem. Even if Y/N does love Colin, she still absolutely hates him. Despises him, actually.”

“Actually, the main problem is that Father wants his daughters to marry a title and a fortune. No offense, Edward.”

But Edward, ever agreeable, waved Philippe’s apology away. “Not at all. It was an advantageous match for me, too. I’m just lucky we grew to love each other. But I do recall your father being quite insistent that she marry nobility.”

“Precisely,” agreed Jacques. “I’ll wager that Y/N will realize she loves Colin quicker than Father will come around to the idea of her marrying for love.”

Louis hummed thoughtfully. “But what if it goes wrong? What if Father hates Colin, and this hunting trip only makes it more difficult for him and Y/N?”

“Not a chance.”

“Absolutely not.”

“That won’t happen.”

Louis just stared at the three men in front of him, looking entirely unconvinced. “How can all three of you be so sure?”

“Because it’s Colin Bridgerton!” said Edward. “Everybody likes Colin. He’s the ton favorite.”

“Y/N doesn’t like him,” argued Louis, still unsure about how effective the plan would be. 

“But she loves him, so that’s different,” said Philippe, smiling brightly. “Don’t worry, Louis. Father will surely like him and it’ll be a step in the right direction. Now, are you ready? I believe the Bridgertons should be arriving shortly.”

---

All in all, Colin was having a lovely time this afternoon. As Anthony had assured, you were at the modiste when he arrived at your home, and he was barely there long enough to spend time looking for any trace of you. It was just as well because he feared what would have happened if he did find anything that reminded you of him.

Hunting, and specifically shooting, was not Colin’s greatest strength. As a result, he’d been mostly hanging toward the back of the group, chatting pleasantly with Edward, who didn’t seem to be very enthusiastic about hunting either.

That is until your father started talking about his travels. Truly, Colin’s biggest weakness was the opportunity to talk about his time abroad. That and you, he thought longingly. 

Colin jogged to catch up to your father, Anthony, and Jacques so he could join the conversation.

“You and Chiara are settled in Tuscany, then?” asked your father.

Jacques laughed. “More than settled, I think. Hello, Colin! Lovely afternoon out, isn’t it?” 

“Quite,” Colin agreed. “You would think it would make me a better shot, but I think this just proves I’m completely hopeless.”

Lord Montclair laughed, and Jacques felt an internal sense of pride as he saw their plan progressing. 

“My sons tell me you’ve traveled a lot,” said your father, turning his gaze to the younger Bridgerton. “Have your travels taken you to the Persian Gulf, perchance? I am contemplating investing in pearl diving there.”

“Indeed, I have,” confirmed Colin. “However, if you seek pearls, might I suggest Ceylon instead? I visited last year and witnessed firsthand the expanding pearl industry.”

“Really?” said Lord Montclair, immediately immersed in the conversation. “But wouldn’t the Persian Gulf offer the most promising returns?”

“It certainly would right now, but trust me, Ceylon holds vast untapped potential.” Colin was in his element. This was practically all he did, and he was glad it was proving useful, and interesting, for once. “The industry there is on the precipice of greatness. In five years' time, mark my words, it shall surpass all others. I've even noted down a particular lagoon in my journals that I think will be particularly successful, based on what the locals have said.”

Impressed, Lord Montclair arched an eyebrow in interest. “You have my attention, Colin. Shall we meet next week to explore this further? A partnership between us could prove quite lucrative.”

Colin’s eyes widened, momentarily taken aback by your father’s offer. “Absolutely, my Lord. It would be my pleasure.”

“Please, call me Philippe,” he replied, clapping Colin on the back. 

Turning to Jacques, your father spoke softly, “Je suppose qu'un titre n'est pas tout” (I suppose a title isn’t everything). 

—

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[starlightazriel]

necessities 4

series desc: modern day (fem) reader x classic prythian az

warnings: 18+, sexual tension, horny az, reader is ditsy

a/n: i know what i said i swear im trying to update bee series lol

wc: 2.4k

other parts will be on my az masterlist <3

four

No matter what you did, you couldn't sleep, despite your long stargaze on the balcony, and the heaviness you'd felt after dinner—you just couldn't sleep.

"Azriel? Are you awake?" You call out, biting down softly on your lip. There's a moment of silence where you think he's asleep. That was part of the problem it was too silent. No cars outside, no second generation hatch with ocean noises and a peach glow night light, no fan or ac.

"Yes, did you need something?" he finally asks, he had offered you the bed and made himself comfortable on the sofa he had in the other room. It was close by, but not close enough. And the dark corners of his room? Fuck no. You'd seen enough horror movies to know what kind of things lurked in corners.

"I'm scared," you respond and he couldn't help the amused smirk that found its way onto his lips. One thing he had observed in his short time knowing you is that even if you weren't the brightest, you were certainly the cutest. Something tugged in his chest— an urge to comfort you and make you feel secure. A human, he swallowed. "Can you come in here?" your next question caught him off guard, go in there? How was he supposed to keep his hands to himself? "Please?" you ask when he still hadn't said anything. He lets out a soft sigh and the next thing you know hes next to you, you jumped a little, you didnt think you could ever get used to that, the silence— the quickness in his movements.

"What are you afraid of?" he asks softly, the bed dipped gently with his weight as he sat, leaning against the headboard with his legs off of the side and his wings tucked neatly, draping slightly off of the side of the bed. You snuck a glance at him and your mouth went completely dry, your breath getting caught in your throat, he was shirtless and was it a sight. It was dark, but the soft glow of starlight from the windows and the balcony illuminated his lean muscular torso, gorgeous tattoos covered his body and arms. It made you feel self conscious about the girly little pink butterflies that were tramp stamped onto your lower back. His face was angled toward you, tipped back in a lazy way, a pillow between his neck and the headboard.

"Huh?" you mumble, forgetting what he had even asked, your heart was beating faster than it ever had. Even faster than it had your first time playing seven minutes in heaven and you'd ended up in the closet with Colin Taylor— who had been the hottest boy in the eighth grade at the time.

Azriel smirked down at you, but his eyes revealed nothing, his nostrils flared slightly as your sweet scent traveled up and tickled his senses making him hyper aware of the way his cock was pressed against the thin fabric of his sleeping pants. "I said," his voice was a bit lower now, more gravelly, because he was also hyper aware of your bare legs underneath the fabric of the blanket, wearing nothing but one of his shirts. "What are you afraid of?" he repeated his question and his voice travelled along your bones, warming you from the inside out, you swallowed thickly, your cheeks burning.

"Well I was afraid there was a ghost in the corner but now Im afraid youre some kind of demon with sex powers," you reply quietly, your heart was hammering, your legs were pressed tightly together underneath the blankets, and that familiar warm and fuzzy feeling was beginning to fill the pit of your belly. He was mesmerizing and the effect he had on you was infuriating.

A soft chuckle escaped his lips, his eyes twinkling with amusement and desire. He liked this, he liked that all it took was a look and the sweet smell of your sex would fill his space, it would suffocate him in a way that he knew he was going to begin craving. Play with her. The shadows were begging.

"No powers, but Ive been told Im— gifted." Your cheeks burn at his words, your mind immediately going to the size of his cock, you had been forcing yourself not to look down. "I think you just like looking at me, I can smell it," Azriel surprised himself with his words, it wasnt often he was this bold with a female. Your cheeks flushed even deeper with his admittance and you were glad it was dark in his room.

"Smell what?" you demanded, suddenly feeling self conscious, your body felt so hot. You resisted the urge to throw the thick blanket off of your body.

Your sweet delicious little cunt that is aching and soaking just for me, but you can't tell if youre terrified of me or if you want to fuck me which makes it all the more exciting and delightful for me, knowing that youre just a little scared.

He cleared his throat and said instead, "Nothing Bubbles, you should get some rest," Azriel resisted the urge to tuck a loose piece of hair behind your ear, it kept falling over your eyes and it bothered him for some reason.

"Goodnight," you sigh, wishing you had the courage to press the question.

"Goodnight."

-

When you woke up the next morning Azriel wasn't next to you in bed anymore. He was sitting on the balcony— drinking tea, of all things.

You slid out of bed and stood there a few paces inside, peering at him for a moment, it must have been dawn because the sky was colored with oranges and pinks. There was an aura of shadows around him like the first time you met, it was so unnatural yet it seemed to match him well.

“Do you always stare this much?” he chuckled quietly without turning his head in the slightest, how did he do that? You felt your cheeks heat up, your throat going dry. Every time he laughed— or spoke in that deliciously gravelly voice it seemed to travel through your blood and warm you from the inside out.

“I wasn't staring!” you countered, scrunching your nose up at him, he turned his head to the side now, an amused smile pulling at his lips.

“There's tea, kettles hot,” he says softly, but he's still not fully facing you, his profile is breathtaking though. You could imagine a full page spread of Azriel modeling for Calvin Klein, the thought made your mouth water. Maybe on a balcony similar to this one just half naked—“Still staring,” he croons and your cheeks grow hot again.

“Oh shut it,” you snap and whirl on your heel to fetch your own cup of tea so you could join him on the balcony.

He still doesn't move when you take a seat in one of the ridiculously large chairs next to him, the backs designed to accommodate his wings. How could anyone ever sit so fucking still for so long? You certainly couldn't, not without your for you page.

“So like I'm guessing you don't have salted caramel cold brews here?”

“No, sorry Bubbles,” he sends you another glance, he definitely didnt know what that was.

“So what are we doing today?” you ask, your eyes traveling from one beautiful view to the other, you could see Azriels head turn in your peripheral vision. He was watching you take in the view of the sunrise, your heart skipped a beat. You remembered being nervous for various promotional events, when you had to meet people and make sure you didn't stumble over your words, when you had to make connections and brand deals and all that shit that had seemed so important just a day ago. Now, sitting here, in this other realm next to the most beautiful man— creature you had ever seen… It was a new kind of nerves that coiled in your belly and made heat creep up the back of your neck.

“I told you, I'm going to take you to my family. I may know someone that could help you get home, maybe, I asked yesterday but I only gave minimal details. My— You could call him a brother, also—” he paused, talking to you was difficult, he couldn't just say Rhys was the high lord, you wouldn't understand. “Hes also in charge of this land.”

“Like a king?” you ask softly

“Yes, but his title is high lord, and where we are now, where this city is, these lands are called the night court. These lands are what he rules over, anyway, hes the one who might be able to help you.” He tried to make it as simple as he could for you.

“It's all so complicated,” you sigh softly, it was tiring, all these new things you were learning. You also weren't sure if it was so bad here, considering you had spent all of your time with this sex god. “Google would come in clutch right now.”

"Google? Clutch?"

"An internet thing. And clutch means like— It would be super useful." You were realizing how difficult slang was to explain, did it even make sense?

"Clutch," Azriel repeated, his lips curling into a small smirk, "some breakfast would be clutch, then." His smile only widened when you laughed.

-

You checked yourself one last time in your little compact mirror from your bag and you winced. The only good thing about the robe Azriel had given you to wear was the giant hood that was attached to it. It hid the ugly cut on your forehead that you'd gotten when you landed here. You thought about all of the under eye masks sitting on your vanity at home, you needed them now. You weren't as primped as usual but you'd done your best, and you did look post worthy. Minus the stupid head wound.

“Ready?” Azriel asks softly, turning his head toward you. There was a mansion in front of you, and no you were definitely not ready.

“As ready as I'll ever be, did you tell them?”

“That I was bringing dinner? No,” he flashed his blinding smile at you and you returned it with a grimace.

“Not funny,” you narrow your eyes at him, your feet feel heavy and your heart is hammering against your chest.

“I thought it was,” he shrugs and opens the door for you, he could see completely over you, and the shadows lead him to the dining room, you followed closely behind. The house was gorgeous, it looked like it could have been straight out of a museum, you fought the urge to take out your phone and take pictures.

“Az?” there's a slight alarm in the smooth voice that speaks first, and you can feel his eyes on you. Az, he didn't mention a nickname. The other— Man or monster, whatever he was, was also handsome— but not like Azriel, not beautiful like him but still very handsome. And his eyes… Were purple. “Who is this?”

“My new friend,” Azriel says his eyes landing on you again. You blushed at his vague description and he nodded to you. You slowly pulled off your hood and a few gasps sounded about the room. “Y/n, also known as Bubbles,” Azriel looks again at you, and then back to the three sitting at the table. "Y/n, this is Rhys, and this is Feyre his—" he pauses, he was about to say mate, but he didnt know if you would understand. "His wife, and Nyx, their son," he continues, ignoring Rhys' curious, and also warning stare, the claws knocking at his mental shields, "and her sister, Elain," he finishes, and you make a mental note of each of their names.

“She's a human,” it's Elain, who speaks next, her voice is honeyed, but there's an edge to it and your eyes fly to her, she's not looking at you, but at Azriel. You see something flash in her eyes and you can tell— there was something there, you don't know why but your gut twists.

“Yes, she is,” the second woman, Feyre says, she's just as beautiful and she's holding the small boy on her lap, he has wings just like Azriels. She's looking back and forth between you and Azriel, and then finally settles back at the other man, Rhys. You notice their pointed ears, are these people fucking elves?

“And why… Why Azriel, have you brought a human here?” there is an edge in the man's voice, it makes you blush and feel quite unwanted.

“I'm—I'm really sorry for like, barging in on your dinner or whatever— Usually I would come with like a cute bottle of wine or something but I'm not from here,” you ramble and the three of them are staring at you now, normally you loved being the center of attention. Here? Now? Not so much.

"Any friend of Azriel is a friend of mine," Rhys responds and gestures to the empty chairs at the table. Azriel pulls one out for you before sitting beside you, you immediately begin nervous bouncing your leg. You held back a shriek when two plates of food appeared in front of both of you. You feel Elains eyes on you and you wonder why she was staring so intently. "Is this why you were asking about travelling to other worlds yesterday?" Rhys turns his attention back to Azriel, of course he would be able to tell she wasn't from this world.

"Yes."

"Where did you find her?"

"Spring court."

Feyres head snaps to Azriel, and you swallow, feeling the sudden tension in the air.

"And why were you in the Spring court?" Rhys asks, his eyes glimmering and the question is followed by a long pause.

"Passing through," Azriel says shortly, youre blushing now, because you can tell this conversation holds a weight that you don't understand, and you can tell that hes either being vague or outright lying. "Can you help, or not?" Azriel asks after another pause.

"We'll see what the library has to offer— tomorrow," Rhys responds thoughtfully, his eyes settle on you and yours shift to your plate.

You decided that you were not cut out for a world with magically appearing food— and you weren't exactly sure if you should eat it at all.

—

reblog and i'll give you a kiss ;)

taglist <3 : @velarisdusk @scorpioriesling @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @smalljasper289 @cherryinsalemverse @cleverzonkwombatsludge @serxndipity-ipity-blog @blessthepizzaman

[uneditedidiot]

gold rush - jamie tartt x reader

jamie tartt x gn!reader

summary: reader is the head physical therapist for AFC Richmond and ever since Jamie returned to the team and has proven himself a better man, you can’t help but harbor feelings for the pro footballer. Takes place during s3ep11. Based off these specific lyrics from the song ‘gold rush’ by Taylor Swift.

word count: 2.9k

Warnings: language - it’s jamie tartt, of course there’s language; declarations of undying love and a first kiss. :)

A/N: I used to write imagines back in like 2012 about One Direction so at least this is somewhat of a step up for me. But my first tumblr imagine so hopefully it’s not complete trash lol.

Part Two: this love is ours

But I don’t like a gold rush, gold rush

I don’t like anticipating my face in a red flush

I don’t like that anyone would die to feel your touch

Everybody wants you

Everybody wonders what it would be like to love you

You were kidding yourself. 

Jamie Tartt, the star of the team, the integral cog in Richmond’s new Total Football machine, the absolute adorable human – that’s who you were in love with? It was almost laughable. If you had told yourself two years ago that Jamie Tartt would be the object of your affection, you wouldn’t have believed a word of it. He had changed. He had changed immensely.

It was…embarrassing in a way. You weren’t embarrassed of him, but more of how you reacted when he was around. And fortunately (or quite unfortunately), he was around quite a bit. As the head physical therapist for the team, you saw most of the players quite often for some reason or another.

Of course, you had no problem interacting with others for their physical care. Sam Obisanya had somehow garnered an elbow injury from playing football as a kid and it had decided to continue to bother him throughout his adulthood. He’d usually stop everyday just to chat, if not work through some stretches for his arm. Jan Maas had a tendency to go down too hard on his left knee when running, so you saw him at least twice a week to lead him through some exercises. Dani Rojas, the sweet sweet man he was, would stop by your office every single morning just to say hello and to make sure his arch support inserts in his boots were fitting right. Colin and Isaac both seemed to suffer from the same achilles tendon strains but on opposite legs. You had no problem assessing their physical needs. You went on with your day like nothing happened.

But Jamie…he was a different story. Just making eye contact when he walked into your office made your cheeks go warm. And having to move his ankle around when you were assessing range of movement? Your entire face and neck would go pink. And that smile…that smile had you giggling and kicking your feet for the rest of the afternoon. 

The sass was another issue entirely. Boy, did that man have a MOUTH on him.

When you’d first started at Richmond with Ted and Beard, who’d brought you with them from the States, Jamie was an asswipe. Sometimes he’d barely acknowledge your presence when coming to get treatment. Other times he’d just sit in silence, his eyes following your every movement. At least twice he’d come in for medical help and he’d tried flirting with you. Back then, you’d had no interest in him at all.

It was when he returned that it was clear something in him had changed. You’d observed his new restraint he showed at training and on the field during matches. He was considerate of his teammates, passing them the ball more frequently and encouraging them on and off the field. Keeley had even said she hadn’t seen him with a new girl on his arm for a long while.

But ever since his return, he’d become more and more friendly with you. You’d grown to trust him completely. He was a true friend. Not only that, but the banter you two had was unmatched.

“Do you like the new tat?” he’d asked one day as you wrapped his ankle.

“What is it supposed to be?” you’d chuckled.

He looked almost offended. “It’s a rocketship.”

You’d stood, wrap in hand, attempting to hold back a laugh. 

He sighed. “Alright, go ahead. Tell me what you really think.”

“Jamie…it…it looks like…like a dick.”

“It does not look like a dick!”

“Yes it really does.”

“You’ve got vision problems.”

“No I don’t. You’ve got some issues if you think that’s a rocketship.”

“Well so do you if you think it looks like a fuckin’ dick!”

You finally let out the laughter you’d been holding in. You had scurried to the door, thrown it open, and yelled out. “Jamie Tartt had his own dick tattooed to his forearm!”

He’d immediately jumped off the medical table and wrapped his arms around you, attempting to pull you away from the open door. You’d held on to the frame, still laughing and yelling as he did so.

“Jamie has a dick tattoo! Jamie has a dick tattoo!”

He was laughing the whole time, screaming, “no I haven’t!” over you, trying to drown out your yells.

You’d found yourself falling. His eyes would gleam and twinkle in this way that was almost comforting. You’d have done anything to see the light in his eyes again after he’d left your office. It was almost intoxicating, but in a way that felt like home. And while your real home in the States was far away, the closer you’d grown to Jamie, the less you missed it.

It was terrifying. You knew what it would mean if you said something to him; or even admitted it to yourself, frankly. 

Jamie was a very well-known figure in the UK. He was a top footballer on a premier team that was making a huge comeback that season. He’d been on a popular reality dating television show (which, sure, he made an ass of himself on but it’s in the past) which had spread his name and face across screens that may not have tuned into the matches before. It obviously didn’t help that he was, in your opinion, one of the handsomest men you’d ever seen. 

And others clearly agreed with you. The amount of thirst tweets you’d seen online about him was quite overwhelming. So many people wanted to be the one for Jamie. To hold him, love him, do things to him that you’d never heard of before reading that tweet. They found his tendency to be a prick on the field very hot. And he kept it up, that’s for sure.

Not only that, he was splashed all over the tabloid headlines when Lust Conquers All was airing. Since then, he was a frequent face on front pages of any and all gossip websites. If you were official with him, the amount of hate you’d get, grainy and unflattering pictures online, and generally mean tweets from people who found Jamie hot would be like a tsunami and you weren’t sure how you’d feel about that. Granted, he’d actually have to agree to go out with you first and that seemed so impossible…

Despite his public persona, you knew his heart. And what a wonderful heart it was. He was kind, thoughtful, and empathetic. He was considerate and made sure to take care of others before himself. He was a firework in a dim sky.

And you hated him. You hated him for making you want to be with him. Everything he did sent a shock of love and loathing down every single vertebrae in your spine. It almost hurt.

It wasn’t until the team’s fated match against Manchester City in Manchester did you see a problem. And that problem was himself. Clearly he was not himself. The thought of his father showing up at the match was weighing heavily on his mind. His self-esteem was at an all-time low and the thought of facing his old team and their incredibly intense fanbase didn’t help, either.

You’d sat next to Roy with Keely on his other side during the showing of You’ve Got Mail. You could see just from Jamie’s body language that he wasn’t himself. 

You’d sighed as Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan confessed their undying love to each other on the big projection screen. Everyone around you had shed at least one tear, including Roy, but something in you felt numb to it. You had been too busy focusing on the rigid back-of-the-head of Jamie in the front row.

You’d watched in dismay as Jamie snuck out of the room, his hood pulled up over his head. You, Roy, and Keely had followed him all the way to mom’s house. You’d sat and had a delicious cookie made by Simon, his stepfather, and then toured his old childhood bedroom.

You sat on the small twin-sized bed, taking in everything around you. Jamie was the same now as he was as a kid – living and breathing football. The posters on the wall were mainly of famous footballers, including Roy, who had cursed at the sight of his old Chelsea portrait. Even Keeley had gasped when she saw the picture of herself topless with two footballs in front of her chest next to it.

Roy and Keeley flopped down next to you on the bed. They chatted for a moment as you stared off into space.

Everything you had been harboring for Jamie – every single emotion – seemed to hit you all at once. The situation at hand forced it all to the surface.

You loved Jamie Tartt.

It brought tears to your eyes. You sniffled, quickly wiping a hand to your cheek.

“What’s wrong, babes?” Keeley asked worriedly, putting a hand on your shoulder.

You shook your head. Like she’d believe that for a second.

“Come on, out with it,” Roy demanded. “You’ve been almost as fucking miserable as Jamie this past week.”

You inhaled sharply, winding your fingers together awkwardly. Your voice was soft, trembling. “I’m in love with Jamie.”

Keeley smiled at you, then shared a knowing look with Roy.

“We know,” she replied gently.

Your eyes widened, meeting her gaze. “You do?”

“Halle-fucking-lujah,” sighed Roy. “Finally.”

“What do you mean, ‘finally?’” you retorted.

“It’s not like it’s been a fucking secret,” Roy grunted. “It’s clear you love the little prick.”

“He doesn’t…he doesn’t love me back, does he?” It was almost like you had dared yourself to even ask. What if he didn’t? What kind of hurt would that be?

You had expected Keeley to hug you sympathetically or even sigh, but instead…she giggled. “Not to break my promise or anything.” She shrugged. “Yeah. Yeah, he loves you, too.”

You shook your head in disbelief. “Okay, don’t be mean. You don’t need to make things up just to keep me from feeling rejected, Keeley.”

“She wouldn’t tell you that if it wasn’t fucking true,” said Roy. “And I know we came here for Jamie to speak with his mum, but you’d hate yourself if you didn’t fucking say something to him.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “Now?”

“Now.”

Keeley agreed. “Yep, I think it’s gotta be tonight, babes. It’s perfect timing. His mum will help him feel better and you both admitting you’re in love?” She squealed and jumped up. “It’s gotta be now!”

“But he’s my best friend,” you replied quietly. “I don’t want it to ruin things.”

“It won’t ruin anything,” Roy shook his head. “If it’s meant to be…it’s fucking meant to be. Not that it’s any of my business.”

“He’s had a crush since he got back to Richmond,” Keeley added. “I know it will work out. Trust us. He’s become a new person and he’s the exact right person for you. You’re perfect for each other. I’m going to be that friend and pressure you to do this.”

You stood, if not somewhat shakily, and nodded. “Okay. I’ll do it.”

“You got this!” Keeley called after you as you exited Jamie’s childhood bedroom. 

You made your way down the small hallway and the narrow staircase, the air lingering with the scent of fresh baked goods as you descended. You could hear hushed voices coming from the living room. You tried to take soft steps as you approached the door.

“I don’t know, Mum. The best thing to ever happen to me?”

“It sounds like you’re in love.”

“But I’m scared.”

Your breath caught in your throat as you listened.

“Love isn’t supposed to be a walk in the park, Jamie. It can be scary. To put yourself out there on the line. To be vulnerable. To risk getting your heart ripped out and thrown in the rubbish.”

“I’m risking my best friend.”

“But will you regret it if you don’t?”

There was a beat of silence.

“I would die unhappy if I couldn’t tell them how I feel.”

Your feet moved before your brain could catch up. And then you saw him from right inside the doorway. His eyes. The gleaming. The twinkling. The feeling of comfortability. Of home.

He stood without taking his eyes off yours. There was a slight smile playing around his mouth. His hands went into their usual position, clasped and pulling on the bottom hem of his sweatshirt. 

Georgie also stood, but she grinned and quickly moved out of the room, saying to her son on the way out, “it’s worth it, love.”

All you could do in the moment was stand there, cheeks going pink under his gaze. 

“Erm…did you see me old bedroom?” he said sheepishly, breaking eye contact for a moment.

The start of this conversation somehow seemed to bring you back to the realm of the living. You chuckled. “Yes, I was a massive fan of the old Roy Kent poster you had up. And you know, all the small pictures of butts with thongs and such.”

It was his turn to go red. “Yeah, well, what can I say? Teenage boy hormones.”

“I don’t think it’s just teenage boy hormones, Jamie. That’s just you liking butts.”

You both shared another laugh before it went quiet again.

Now was your chance. Keeley and Roy had said Jamie was at least interested in you, so you needed to say something.

“Um…so, I…I was, uh, talking to Keeley and Roy upstairs,” you began, taking a couple steps toward him.

“Is that what you were doing? Talking? I’d have thought you might be having a threesome.”

You laughed again as he smirked proudly at his comment. But his smile faltered as you seemed to go back to a state of self-conscious anxiety. Jamie’s heartbeat sped up. Usually you would’ve come back with another witty comment.

“What were ya talkin’ about?” he wondered seriously.

“I was just telling them about this…guy I’m interested in.”

The warmth in Jamie’s eyes slowly seemed to be dying like embers of a fire slowly burning down.

“Oh.”

“Yeah. And I was telling them a little about him.”

Jamie nodded, eyes cast down at the floor. He feigned interest. “And what’s he like, then?”

You remembered what Georgie had just told Jamie moments before. Love is scary, but it’s worth the risk.

You took another step closer to him, feeling more confident now. “He’s really sweet. He’s considerate and thoughtful and is willing to learn and grow.” 

Jamie nodded again, still half-heartedly listening.

“And he’s funny and makes the best jokes. He can laugh at himself and how dumb he used to be. Although I’d laugh at myself too if I were that much of a prick once. Even turned a whole plan around at Amsterdam once, the idiot.”

His eyes were now back on yours, mouth slightly open in disbelief. The grin seemed to spread over his lips as you continued talking.

“And he’s generous and willing to take care of others despite his own needs. He puts on quite the show at his job though. Oh my god, he can be a bit of a show off, but he’s actively working on it. He always seems to get this like weird ankle injury every once in a while, too. And don’t get me started on his dumb ass tattoos. There’s this one that he says is a rocketship but I SWEAR it’s a penis and –”

“I love you.” 

Your words are put on halt by the admittance that Jamie has just put out into the world forever.

He repeated himself with confidence. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Your declaration comes not a second after he’s spoken. And everything seems to spill out at once. “For months now. I’ve tried to hold it in, but I can’t any longer. You make me nervous, Jamie Tartt. You make me blush just by walking into the fucking room. I couldn’t stand touching you because it made my stupid fingers turn red. Your smile alone could light a thousand candles at once. Your laugh could be a grammy-award winning song. Everybody wants you, but you…you are my everything.”

All he says is your name. And then he closes the gap between you two.

His hands go to your waist, his lips find yours. Your arms wind around his neck, hands finding the base of his hairline, weaving your fingers through the strands. There is no space left between your bodies.

Your mouths move in sync, slowly and softly, with a passion you’d never experienced before.

His hand moves from your waist to cup your cheek, turning his head slightly to deepen the kiss. His other hand grasps the fabric of your t-shirt, clinging to you incessantly.

When you pull away for a second, he whispers your name in a way that sends starlight cascading through your very bones. 

“Jamie,” you whisper, “you’re my best friend and I love you and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

He smiles. “I think your timing is perfect. Just like you.”

You move to press your lips to his again when Simon calls out from the kitchen.

“Anybody want pie?”

Georgie makes a reappearance in the doorway. She shrieks in delight. “See, love? I told you! What did I tell you?”

She wrestles you away from Jamie and gives you the biggest and tightest hug of your life.

“Mum, you’re gonna squish ‘em!” Jamie protests good-naturedly, pulling back on your shoulder. He slings an arm around your waist, keeping you close.

You knew Jamie would be okay at tomorrow’s match even if his dad did show up. 

You loved each other. And that was all he needed.

[frankenkyle19]

Sit Down (Colin Zabel x Reader smut)

Word count: 1.3k

warnings: oral (m receiving), handjob, literally just reader giving Colin a sweet ass blowjob because he’s super stressed out from work. Not proofread so that’s honestly the biggest warning.

Colin Zabel was in many ways, seasoned in life. A detective, having seen his fair share of awful situations and people, more than most would see in their entire lives. He saw the worst of humanity on a daily basis but it never pulled the smile from his face. Maybe he was meant for this job, because it never seemed to affect him.

Well.. For a while, but it was beginning to drain him now, after months and months with no break it was taking more of a toll on him than he thought. 

But Colin being the person he was just refused to take a break. It was infuriating at times as well as being admirable. Being his girlfriend was no small feat, but you did love him more than anything.

The only thing that confused you was how strange he was with intimacy. You’d had sex a few times but never much foreplay and he hardly let you touch him. You just chalked it up to him wanting to be in control, but the longer it went on, you realized it was more than that… Was your charming detective possibly, perhaps… Inexperienced in the bedroom?

Not like it mattered to you, but you wanted him to be comfortable trying new things with you and feeling like he was able to talk to you about it all.

—————————————

The second he walked through the door after work, you knew something was up. He was grumpy, standoffish and just looked irritated. 

“Colin, would you please talk to me?” You said, sighing softly as you watched him pace across the expanse of your shared living room and kitchen. It was making you dizzy just watching him.

“There’s nothing to talk about babe I don’t know what you want me to say-“ He spoke, shaking his head and running a hand through his short brown hair, something he seemed to do more often when he was stressed. 

Your eyes shot daggers at him as he shook his head once more, still pacing. He was obviously stressed and talking wasn’t going to work. He’d been stuck at work and doing so much extra that he needed some sort of break. Talking didn’t seem to be going anywhere so the next lap he made around the couch you pulled him down, sitting on his lap to keep him still.

Colin, obviously startled and shocked, looked up at you with confusion “what’re you doing?” He asked, brows furrowed as his hands instinctively found their way to your plush hips.

You didn’t stay there for long and began to explain as you got on your knees in front of him, taking off his belt as he just sat there in shock, unable to form a few words let alone a single sentence.

“You’re so stressed, you need to find a way to get it all out. I have a hypothesis, this might help. Go with me on this, yeah?”

Colin, already breathless, just nodded. Finally he wasn’t pulling away from you, finally was letting you do what you so badly had wanted to do for months.

You undid his belt and pulled it slowly out of each loop before tossing it to the ground. You then popped the button and zipper on his jeans and pulled them down along with his boxers.

He was surprisingly very hard already despite you having barely done anything. This was your confirmation that he did in fact need and want this.

Colin bit his bottom lip at the first contact of your hand to his cock, stroking over the velvety soft skin that covered his hard on, an indescribable feeling, soft yet hard at the same time.

You let your thumb graze across the tip of his cock, picking up some of his sticky pre-cum along the way as you rubbed over the slit slightly, watching the liquid spread across your thumb and the head of his cock.

Colin groaned above you, unable to keep in his noises as he sat up a bit taller, trying and failing to compose himself as you slowly leaned down to press the lightest of kisses to his throbbing cock.

He mewled, hips barely arching up in search of more. He needed more of it and he never wanted it to stop. 

A few more kisses and you explored further, gathering the saliva on the tip of your tongue and watching as it slowly dripped onto his cock, sliding down the thick length until it reached his balls.

He shivered, adams apple bobbing as you took the tip fully into your mouth, sucking on it enthusiastically, moaning at the masculine taste that just was Colin.

“Fuck- oh Jesus-“ He threw his head back, putting his hand over his face, chest heaving heavily as his cock twitched in your mouth. With the way he was reacting it caused you to wonder if he’d ever actually gotten a blowjob before.

Your lips slowly slid farther down his length, taking him until it hit the back of your throat. You came back up for air before going down once more, setting a steady pace as you bobbed your head, hand reaching to gently fondle his balls which caused him to whimper.

You pressed sloppy kisses across his engorged cock as you spoke, “my poor detective, look at you, so backed up, huh? Needed this didn’t you?” He nodded pathetically “I wanna hear you say it baby.” You gave his balls a gentle squeeze. A warning.

“Oh! Oh god yes I needed it! Please fuck! Gentle baby, they're so sensitive!” He huffed out, muscles in his legs tending as he gritted his teeth.

You chuckled softly, resuming your actions to his cock, going further and gagging on him this time.

Colin moaned at not only the sound of you choking on his cock but the feeling of your warm wet mouth around him. It was truly heaven. He could die like this and be happy.

A blush painted his cheeks in a crimson flush as he tried hard to hold himself back, already feeling close. And honestly, who could blame him?

You sensed the change in him and decided to just push him further to the point of no return. Letting your tongue trace the prominent veins that stretched across his cock, throbbing with each lick.

“Such a good boy, such a good detective-“ you purred, your hand once more rubbing across his balls before stroking the base of his cock. Any second now. Any second and he would fall apart.

“Y-yeah fuck- I’m a good boy- your g-good boy-“ he gasped out, too far gone to even be embarrassed by how needy he was at the moment. He just wanted this feeling to last forever.

“Such a pretty cock, needed me so so bad-“ you traced over the tip of him with the pad of your finger and he trembled even harder.

“You’re holding back, I think you know what I want. Cum for me”. You spoke, picking up speed with your strokes.

“Cum for me detective-“

And that was all it took for Colin to finally cum into your mouth and across your face in long, thick strokes of off white milky liquid. You swallowed as much as you could before wiping your face, checking up on Colin to make sure he was doing alright.

He blinked down at you with a lazy smile on his lips. He looked and probably felt completely fucked out. 

“Jesus baby- I love you- come here- let me return the favor-“ He spoke, using all his remaining strength to pull you up into his lap to practically drag your pants and underwear off of your figure.

You hadn’t intended for your night to go this way, but you definitely weren’t complaining. 

[collinrobinsonsglasses]

hi!! if it's ok I'd love to make a request!

please can you write a oneshot with Nandor x reader (fem/gender neutral) where reader is feeling insecure and Nandor comforts them? hoping for something really fluffy and if you're comfortable with writing smut then it'd be amazing (if not then no worries, SFW is fine with me :D)

thank you!!

Nandor x F!Reader

Masterlist

Word count: 1.9k

This was my first time writing something for WWDITS, and my first time writing something a little spicier. It was a lot of fun. Thank you for the request @just-a-little-cellist

Warnings: NSFW, This is a little more smutty than my usual stuff, so 18+ only please!!

Getting More Familiar

Having recently moved back to the city in search of a fresh start, you found yourself working at the local movie theater without a clear sense of direction. It was during this time that two mysterious figures, dressed in Victorian garb, approached you with an enticing job offer. The prospect of escaping your unfulfilling job and gaining a new place to live seemed too good to pass up. When Nadja and Laszo revealed they were vampires that night, it didn’t faze or shock you at all; it felt entirely ordinary. Reflecting on the encounter, you couldn’t help but wonder if you had fallen under their hypnotic influence. Strangely, this realization didn’t bother you; instead, it added an intriguing layer to your newfound life. 

As Nadja and Laszlo’s familiar, you found yourself responsible for managing the entire household, which included their two roommates. Nadja and Laszlo were low-maintenance, devoting the majority of their free time to activities that Laszlo referred to as “fucking and sucking.” You quickly learned to avoid Colin Robinson, as he never missed a chance to drain your energy–whether through incessant talking or attempting to piss you off. You found Nandor to be your favorite vampire companion, and he, too, seemed to enjoy spending time with you. He shared that his familiar, Guillermo, was currently on a break, and Nandor appeared somewhat lonely.

Nandor relished recounting his human past, regaling you with tales of the villages he relentlessly pillaged and reminiscing about his time as the nation’s Supreme Viceroy. You consistently listened to Nadnor’s stories with genuine interest, asking questions and sharing laughter at his jokes. Despite Nandor’s formidable warrior background, it appeared that the years as a vampire had softened him. What he seemed to need most was someone who would listen and genuinely care about what he had to say. Being that person came easily to you, and you couldn’t help but imagine that Guillermo had played a similar role before his departure. 

You couldn’t deny that Nandor was quite easy on the eyes, though it felt somewhere cliché to admit, considering he was a vampire. His undeniable strength became clear when he assisted you in carrying heavy bodies for disposal. Nandor had long, soft, black hair, and on some mornings, he’d ask you to brush it before he retreated into his casket. When the group ventured into the city at night, he displayed a protective streak, keeping a watchful eye on your whereabouts and warding off other vampires who showed too much interest in you. Though you harbored strong feelings for him, you refrained from admitting it, acknowledging that a 761-year-old vampire likely wouldn’t share your romantic feelings. Despite this, you cherished the moments spent in his company, savoring the connection whenever possible. 

Today unfolded like any other ordinary day, with you rising a few hours before sunset to tidy up the house before the vampires stirred. In the library, Colin sat absorbed in his newspaper, a familiar sight as you diligently dusted the room. It seemed that Colin was perpetually awake, his presence a constant in the early evening routine. Colin prattled on about something from the newspaper, but you didn’t mind, anticipating the upcoming time with Nandor. As you continued to dust, Colin’s chatter ceased, likely realizing his attempts to drain your energy in this way were futile. 

“You know, it’s interesting…” Colin Robinson began, peering out above his newspaper toward you. “Laszlo and Nadja usually have sex with their familiar by now, but they haven’t with you. Makes you wonder what’s wrong with you.” With that, he folded his newspaper with glee and left the room, his eyes glowing blue and a smirk on his face. 

He had gotten to you. The rush of energy left your body as you started to ponder if Colin’s words held truth. What was wrong with you? You never saw yourself as beautiful or sexy, considering yourself cute at best. Memories of past men you liked referring to you as “like a sister” flashed through your mind. Colin Robinson had hit on an insecurity that had lingered for most of your life–you didn’t feel desirable. You were kind and easy to be around, but the realization sank in that there was probably a reason those two vampires wouldn’t have any interest in you. Those thoughts circled in your mind for the next few hours as you continued cleaning the house, leaving you feeling intensely self-conscious by the time the sun set. You made a decision to try to avoid everyone tonight, unless they genuinely needed you. 

You kept yourself busy in the fancy room after greeting Nadja and Laszlo. Fortunately, they made their way to the room with the piano, engrossed in practicing some of their old songs. This allowed you to maintain a bit of distance and focus on your tasks for the night. After an hour, Nandor found you, greeting you with a sheepish smile while idly playing with his fingers. “Oh, there you are,” his voice rang out with his usual, endearing accent. 

You replied with a forced smile, that being the best you could muster while feeling embarrassed for letting Colin Robinson get to you. Despite your attempts to conceal your emotions, Nandor noticed immediately. 

“You’re glum,” Nandor remarked as he sat on the couch, gesturing for you to join him. When you opened your mouth to speak, nothing came out. “Don’t deny it. I can tell.” Feeling vulnerable, you decided to tell him the truth, but you looked to the ground while speaking. “Do Nadja and Laszlo sleep with all their familiars?” 

“Nadja and Laszlo would fuck anything with a pulse,” Nandor chuckled, seemingly misreading the situation completely. “Well, I guess technically they wouldn’t even need a pulse, because we’re vampires.” 

“So Colin Robinson was right. There must be something wrong with me.” You leaned your head back against the couch, tears forming in your eyes. All the past stings of rejection came rushing back in that moment. You glanced over towards Nandor, realizing he looked confused, and you felt silly for allowing yourself to get emotional in front of him. Trying to compose yourself, you sat up, wiped away the forming tears and mustered a weak smile. 

“Why do you think there is something wrong with you?” Nandor asked, genuine confusion painting his face. 

“Colin Robinson said there has to be a reason Nadja and Laszlo haven’t tried to make a move on me. I guess I’m just not desirable in that way… even though I have a pulse,” you said, trying to make a joke out of it now. You realized that Nandor probably wanted nothing to do with this conversation. 

“Fucking guy,” Nandor grumbled, his expression darkening as he glared straight ahead. When he looked back at you, his demeanor softened. “I believe you are incredibly beautiful… and you have a rocking body.”

You didn’t believe a word he was saying, knowing this was most likely just him trying to cheer you up and move on quickly. “Thanks, Nandor, but you don’t have to do that.” 

“I don’t understand. What am I doing?” Nandor questioned, a perplexed expression on his face. 

“Trying to cheer me up, but it’s silly. I”ll get over it.” 

Nandor moved towards you, placing his cold hand against your cheek and wiping the remnant of a tear from your face. “I, Nandor the Relentless, have had 37 wives and even more lovers. I believe you are one of the most beautiful, sensitive, and poetic creatures I have ever laid my eyes upon.” In this moment, Nandor spoke with authority, unlike the shy version of Nandor you usually encountered. 

Inhaling quickly in shock, you looked into Nandor’s dark brown eyes. You stayed silent, unsure if this was a trick or if it was real. 

“If you do not believe you are desirable, I’ll have to show you how desirable I think you are,” he whispered, gazing over you with his eyes. “If that is what you want.” 

You replied with a quick nod, your eyes widening, and your heart picking up speed. Your emotions flooded with longing, and you looked down towards Nandor’s lips. 

Nandor’s lips found yours, his hands firmly holding your face as he drew you in. Closing your eyes, you relished the feeling of his cold lips against yours. A gasp escaped you as his kisses trailed down your neck. Nandor guided you to lay on the couch, his body intimately pressed against yours. You sensed the touch of his cold fingers tracing across your thigh beneath your dress, eliciting a moan from you, muffled by the embrace of his kiss. He momentarily paused, his fingers delicately tracing the contours of your underwear, while looking into your eyes. 

Nandor whispered, uncertainty clouding his face, “Is this truly what you desire?” 

“Yes,” you replied with conviction, “Ever since I started working as Nadja and Laszlo’s familiar, I’ve been into you, Nandor.” 

“How should I put this… it is you who are the person who I am into… too.” His genuine smile grew, while looking down at you. 

With that, you sensed his fingers skillfully maneuvering around the fabric of your underwear, and gasped as his finger rubbed against you. You felt your hips instinctively lift at his touch and you observed him with a gaze filled with desire. As his finger slid inside of you, your eyes closed involuntarily, wanting to commit the sensation of his touch into memory. The soft sound of his chuckle reached your ears, acknowledging your reaction, while he removed your underwear tossing them onto the ground. You then experienced his icy kisses trailing up your thighs before he was between your legs. His tongue and lips provided a heavenly sensation causing you to moan and grind your hips against his mouth. 

“You taste delicious,” Nandor growled. 

Rising from the couch, he stood up, gently pulling you to your feet and enveloping you in a deep kiss. The intensity of the kiss heightened as he pressed you against one of the room’s walls. Effortlessly lifting you up, your legs encircling him, he pressed against you. Your hand descended, deftly unbuttoning his pants, causing him to moan as you led him inside of you. A momentary pause ensued as you locked eyes, desire vividly painting both of your faces. Nandor’s vampire strength proved formidable; he held you aloft, as you began a slow rotation of your hips. Closing his eyes, he emitted a low groan, surrendering to the intensity of the moment. Entwined with Nandor, a genuine feeling of beauty enveloped you, relishing in the pleasure you both felt. The feeling of being desired by Nandor dispelled any lingering doubts Colin Robinson had left in your head. Nandor thought you were sexy and he wanted you. 

🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇

“Well, if I”m being honest,” Nandor candidly addressed the camera, “I asked Laszlo and Nadja to not fuck her… because I liked her… I guess I could have told her that, but I think it worked out.” A smirk played on Nandor’s lips as he glanced towards the camera, nervously playing with his fingers. Just then, Nadja’s voice echoed from the other room, causing his smirk to drop. 

“About fucking time you made a move, you big idiot.” 

[hotpinkboots]

Oh. My. God. Hi there!!! I’ve been desperately trying to find others who still love WWDITS and write for them so when I came across your post I almost screamed. Can I get Yandere Nadja x Female!Familiar?

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~Yandere!𝕹𝖆𝖉𝖏𝖆 x Fem!Familiar!Reader Headcanons~

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OH. OH HONEY. I had to throw my phone on the couch when I saw this request so I could squeal and wave my hands around. Had me giggling and kicking my feet irl, babes SOMEONE COME SPAM MY INBOX WITH NADJA REQUESTS I'LL KISS YOU

Summary: You're Nadja's stupid little baby. Do I need to explain further

Note(s): I do not watch What We Do In The Shadows episode for episode, I usually skip around. Due to this, some events in the show or the way I portray the characters may be a bit mixed up or off.

Warning(s): Yandere behavior, possessive behavior, gaslighting, guilt tripping, manipulation, objectifying the reader, violence, blood, a little bit of (but not much) sexual content, ect.

~Enjoy~

★★★★

𝕹𝖆𝖉𝖏𝖆

★★★★

~Nadja has a LOT of big feelings, and she WILL make them known, no matter what the situation is.

~It may not be obvious what she's feeling, but when she's feeling something then everyone is going to feel it, too.

~If she's angry, you had better NOT be caught in the line of fire. If she's sad, she's going to either whine and sulk for attention, or she'll lash out. Emotions vary. She could seem one way when she's really only acting like that because on the inside she's feeling another way.

~So, she's a very hard person to read despite the fact that she speaks her mind without having much of a filter.

~The same goes for how she treats you.

~Her stupid familiar who just follows along with whatever is happening. Her useless human pet who has the HONOR to even be in her presence and clean up after her.

~Treats you like you're her stupid dog.

~She'll degrade you one day, and be giggly with you the next.

~Oh, but don't get too friendly with her, or she'll be annoyed by you. But, make sure you interact just enough, because if you don't, she'll get after you and try to make you entertain her. Ah, yes, but don't try TOO hard to make her happy, either, because you'll get on her nerves.

~The point is that you feel like you're walking on eggshells 24/7.

~She can't decide if she wants you to wear something gorgeous and grand to have you match with her, or if she wants to have you wear ugly baggy clothing so you don't look seem as gorgeous as she does.

~Then she thinks that it'll make HER look bad if you're not dressed up, so she's going to make you wear all the stuff she does so you don't look like you just recently escaped from the sewers after swimming in shit and piss.

~Of course, she might scold you and smack you with the hair brush if you tell her something she's doing with your hair is hurting your scalp.

~But then Nadja saw you smiling in the mirror when she was finished. You looked so gorgeous. So excited to be dressed up like that.

~Suddenly, she wished she could see herself in the mirror beside you.

~Laszlo will join in, too, so all three of you match.

~If you ever have a fight with her, her reactions come in phases.

~First, she'll snap at you and call you names and demand you get out. It's unclear if she means get out of the room, or out of the house, but the point is that she does NOT want to see you after an argument.

~Second, she'll rant and be absolutely furious for awhile.

~Third, she gets upset at herself because she made her own familiar upset. She denies being upset at herself by being a bitch to everybody and claiming they did something wrong, even if they were just standing there.

~Nandor probably got yelled at for just existing or something idk

~Colin Robinson feeds off of all this drama of course.

~Fourth, Nadja decides it's your fault for whatever happened, and she'll cry and run away or something just to get your attention. Will sulk until you're the one to apologize.

~And lastly, once you apologize, she realizes the apology sounds wrong coming from YOUR lips instead of hers, since she was probably the one being a drama queen and making a big deal out of nothing.

~Does not know how the hell to apologize very well but she'll kind of try.

~Nadja will start giving you more cute (sometimes weird) nicknames after that.

~Once she REALLY gets attached and decides she likes you, she'll be silly with you and gossip. She DEMANDS a girl night.

~You're like her pet, now, and will literally go as far as petting your head.

~Does she ever think about putting you in a collar that makes your throat look extra delicious, with a leash attached so she can tug you along and coo at you?

~Absolutely.

~She will beat the absolute shit out of anybody who looks at you the wrong way.

~More than willing to rip open someone's ribs so she can tear out their heart and stomp on it.

~Then she shows you and expects you to be like "wow Nadja you did that for me thank you!"

~Or if you have a terrified reaction, she'll be confused as hell. She just killed someone for you? Hello? That's the ultimate way to show someone you love them, isn't it? Literally be willing to tear people apart for them?

~But she'll baby you and give you a hug, anyway.

~"He was a big stupid asshole, my love, didn't you see the way he looked at you? He deserved to die!"

~Then she'd look back at the bloody scene and point down at the body and yell "He was a PIECE OF OLD PIG SHIT!"

~And then would go back to babying you and giving you all the reasons why the person who looked at you wrong deserved to die

~She has done something like that on multiple occasions and would never be afraid of doing it again.

~Nadja most likely wouldn't make you a vampire for an extremely long time (by that I mean she might literally not do it in time, you might be dead by the time she even decided to consider it 💀. Or, if something awful happens to you and you're on your death bed and she decides she needs you to be immortal for her.)

~She wants you to always be her cute little familiar who comes when called, not her fellow vampire who doesn't work under her anymore.

~If you ever had a one night stand, she's fine with that, and would have everybody in the house sit down so they could listen to you tell them (in detail) everything that happened. You aren't getting out of that one.

~But she would be very jealous if you had a boyfriend/girlfriend, rather than just a fling.

~If you fall in love with anybody, know ahead of time that she's going to consider either murdering them, or at the very least, treating them badly.

~She would try to chase them away by somehow getting them to believe you said something about them that you actually didn't say.

~Then she'd comfort you about your "break up", pretending to be shocked about what happened, as though she didn't plan that.

~Unfortunately for her, she isn't a very good actress, and it's a bit obvious that she was the one who made that happen.

~If you then demanded to know WHY she did that to you, she'd finally admit it in a moment of anger and fear that you found out.

~"BECAUSE I LOVE YOU! I did that for YOU! They weren't good for you, my darling, why the FUCK don't you understand?!"

~Nadja is most definitely a dangerous yandere. She can be just as volatile and demanding as she can be doting and silly.

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Nadja is my favorite character to write as a yandere omg

Request Guidelines!

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Join my Discord server! We have movie nights, art prompts, a lot of places to ramble about your hyperfixations, and a ton of cool people to meet and roleplay with!:

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~Love, PinkBoots

Reblogs > Likes

[inknopewetrust]

𝐔𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐮𝐞𝐝 [𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮]

summary: grief puts those in its grasp in precarious positions: those of loyalty, and those of spite and those with love, well, they flounder amongst the hurt. [WC: 1.8k]

pairing: stewy hosseini x fem!roy!reader

warnings: angst, exes to lovers (potentially!), language, vignette on grief and love lost.

quick links: masterlist [a/n: possibly part I of a small vignette series of stewy and fem!roy reader. thoughts, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated!)

Entombed in marble, the note reverberated throughout the church in poetry. 

The scaffolding of grief had been built. Sitting in rows for as far as the eye could see, a family rested scorched amidst the sorrow. 

You felt like a stranger in the room. 

The suddenness of pain revels in the commonality it inflicts. A sweeping, precipitous moment of immense breadth swallowing the weak for what they are: people. 

And the people inside that room—ornately defined by cultures and individuals who gave so much to a city where one human can overtake and limit their worth— were flooded by an insurmountable loss that could only be explained by the static of a draining phone and the choppy voice of your sister’s estranged husband. 

Those two words, simple, rolling off his tongue with difficulty and a wish that the call would drop and everything would go back to the way it was before he walked away. 

“He’s gone.” 

The tone in his voice had remained buried in the darkest parts of your mind. You felt as though you could hear it clearly as the small conversations of visitation began to settle and you couldn’t bear to look at the center of the alter. 

The sudden ringing in your ears suffused every sense you were able to muster in that moment. 

But your ears rung. Manicured hands began to shake and tempted you to stand and run away because grief worked in silly circles. The disbelief that something could occur so quickly, the naivety of realizing that the world was suddenly different than the one that existed before, and the pain of faltering to the idea that even if he was Satan, he was still your father and grief felt indebted to it. 

It was lonely, grief. 

Even while hundreds of people spoke of their condolences, loneliness of death weaved itself into your bones and pulled you underneath the surface where bubbles of hope had long ceased. Everyone from Gerri to Colin to Frank to Karl, each face with the same look staring into your eyes with a pity you asked not for but knew belonged in your heart all the same meant little when the world felt tipped on its axis. 

And for the cruelty of the man, it was difficult to understand.

Kendall was holding his life together by a thin and shallow thread and remained so as the priest wallowed on about the supposed amazing man Logan Roy was. 

But even with an estranged family, Kendall was never as lonely as he appeared to be. He wasn’t like you. You, left alone to fiddle with your hands as Shiv sat without Tom and Roman sat beside Conner and Willa. The paper between your fingers became crinkled—the only partner you had in a moment like this. 

And how you wished it wasn’t the case. You wished you weren’t some lonely pretender who sat sorrowful at a wretched man’s funeral but there you were... strangely obliterated by the idea that life can turn in an instant and the Aeneas of an institution can vanish without so much as a goodbye.

It felt comical and tragic at the same time—the poets of civilizations past would be aching to tell a story such as that. 

And Kendall had reiterated such on that fateful day on the yacht because those who would write biographies were watching. Those who would ultimately shake their heads and scoff at the compounding confusion of losing a belligerent soul and making it appear as though a Saint had passed. 

Whatever was to be done in the moments following the death of the patriarch, history would be watching. As much as you hated the idea of history looming over the raincloud high above you, he was right. The institution built by Logan Roy did not need to be littered with the historical fact of the middle, forgotten child losing their sanity at his funeral due to loneliness that had, in truth, nothing to do with Logan dying but the unity death brought with it. 

However, you could argue, Logan was the crux of that loneliness. He had fostered it, just as well as your mother had when she left the four of you to fend for yourself against the vultures. Now Conner, Kendall, Roman, and Shiv all bask in that same attitude as if was normal to be a carbon copy of the most antithetical person to ever exist. 

You hated that being in the room; sharing the same last name, and sitting beside them meant you were likely no different. 

And that is why you could never have what the world granted everyone else: happiness. 

Loneliness was the path of salvation for those with the last name of Roy. Happiness, or love, whichever one truly came from the actions that preceded it had become foreign for decades of the power hungry struggle of men and women before you. 

It radiated throughout the room like Godzilla’s goddamn rays when the priest had ushered his final prayers and you couldn’t even put your hands together and bow. Beside Kendall, Shiv had extended her palm to rest on top of his as they prayed like the good servants of God they were, and you wished someone had sat beside you and done the same even for split second. Conner had Willa, Shiv still had Tom in the small capacity that she did, and Roman was so beside himself with romance that even he couldn’t admit that he needed someone too. 

How you ached for a hand to grace yours; how you yearned for someone to place an enduring kiss on your temple and say that they loved you even if you couldn’t believe the truth behind it. 

So the loneliness of that vacancy simmers. 

The cynical heart hears the organs begin to play and your siblings rose from their seats as it was time to pretend that you enjoyed the service and you wanted the sympathy of others as they shook your hand and gave you hugs outside of the church. But you didn’t want those hugs. You didn’t want those hands. 

You wanted one hug. You wanted one pair of hands. You wanted one sympathetic moment and one sympathetic kiss and pretend, for one simple moment, that nothing had changed. 

Dad wasn’t dead. Waystar wasn’t floundering in a shallow grave and the maggots of sheep herding to its demise wasn’t going to come next. Sorrow didn’t exist. You weren’t alone—hadn’t been alone. 

Across the aisle, donning a black overcoat and three-piece-suit, the simple moment waited. There was little that could have been done feeling maimed by actions unseen but it had been five months of radio silence between you both. One car ride home and the whole thing imploded like a fucking rocket ship.  

The congregation stood in solemn stature as the row of family filed out first. Kendall, followed by his small brood, then you. 

You took one last look at the coffin that held the once formidable Logan Roy. 

Flowers resting on the top, the flag of Scotland draped over it. 

For a man so powerful, the weakness of death was hard to ignore. Wilting away in a box for the rest of eternity while the world continued to spin without him. And yet, there in that room and within your own heart and mind, Logan Roy was twisting a footprint of pain deeper than it had before. 

Dad died without anyone truly loving him.

You did not want to die like your dad. 

Stewy Hosseini was a lifeline. He was a chameleon of couture culture and finessed fashion but within the idealized image of an investor, there was a man who cared for the people who couldn’t say the word ‘love’ or ask for help when they needed it. 

Stewy Hosseini was a good man wrapped up in a world that had people one step from going over the ledge but always looked for a solution to solve it. He was a good friend of Kendall even if the stubborn prick never noticed it when it mattered. He was a charming bastard who did lines in public restrooms and put his feet on conference tables during important meetings. 

He was the only one to say what he meant without ever getting burned by it but left you shriveling to ash in the corner. 

Stewy Hosseini was that solitary hope. 

As you looked away from your father's casket, you were frightened by the realization that what was once an outlet for relief had become something to depend on. That five months of absent feelings created a void of indescribable pain that found an outlet in your father’s demise. 

You weren’t lonely, no. You were filled with a love that shouldn’t exist with someone who shouldn’t have looked at you the way he did and the yearning for comfort only exacerbated the want. 

Maybe he should have taken the deal on Paxos. Maybe he should have said yes, that the package that was tied with a perfect little string matched the black little box that sat in the drawer beside the bed but he didn't.

As you turned toward the aisle to follow the precession, you couldn’t even get your eyes to cast forward because he was right there. Across the way and a row down beside Sandy in his wheelchair and Sandi in her Hillary Clinton pantsuit. 

You clutched the program tightly in your hand. Lip trembling, you watched your feet take you away and there was a second in time where you were alone before another hand inched its way into your palm and around your hand. 

Some people would never know the absence of love. 

They would be grown into it with a kind mother and good family that loved her because they were an innocent child who was not afraid of being the hand that met a lonesome one in the middle of a grand church.

Shiv’s hand crept into yours as the memories of Ewan’s harshness, Kendall’s stoniness, and her fierceness waddled to the background.

Her eyes met yours and for a minute of the day, you felt seen. 

And down the aisle, Stewy wished it was his hand comforting your own. 

One where he could trace a finger over yours and feel the ring that was supposed to sit there. He could hear the Phantom in that cathedral now:

'You've been asking me for three fuckin' years son so yeah, I'll even throw in my goddamn blessing if that makes you so fucking happy.'

Maybe he should have said yes and everything would be different.

But a Roy would always swallow their pride in moments of need and Stewy Hosseini would always chase the money. There were moments before: a bliss, a fight, a phone call. And then there were moments after: a funeral, a short escape, and a board meeting. But the seconds that lingered in between those events were always shroud in the belief in the former:

A Roy was a Roy, and a Roy never floundered until it was too late.

comments, thoughts, and reblogs are always appreciated. thank you for taking the time to read my lil 'ol fic.

Tagged: @mini-ranger @prettybirdi

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

A Place To Call Home: After Shocks

Summary: The reader is feeling guilty after doubting her parents after the stunt her birth parents pulled. But with her parents going away to film a new project soon, the only solution may be for her to go with them for some much needed bonding...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x foster daughter!reader

Word Count: 11,100ish

Warnings: language, angst, fluff

A/N: This one takes place directly after Long, Long Time!

________

“Y/N.” You felt TJ behind you, his strong arms wrapping around your waist, holding you close. “What do you need right now?”

You smiled to yourself, closing your eyes. For every bad thing that’d happened in your life, you were still amazed at how lucky you were to have found someone that loved you wholly. He was still the one person that you’d never once doubted cared for you, never struggled with sharing the dark parts of your past. 

There were things you’d only told him even, the details behind vague statements to your parents. Yet he stayed and never complained about what being with a person with scars was like. It’d be so much easier for him to have found a normal girl, so much less for him to worry about.

“I probably would have wound up with a not so nice guy if I’d not gone to my parents when I was a teenager. I would have fallen for the first guy that was nice and sweet just so he could get me in bed or worse. I was so fucking starved for attention and love back then. I was so goddamn lonely.”

He squeezed you tighter, tucking his head down so he could burrow his face in your neck, kissing it softly.

“My dad showed me what to look for in a man. My mom too. They taught me how I was supposed to be treated when I was in a relationship.” You opened your eyes, staring out the back window again. “How did I let those assholes make me afraid of my parents? I hate that I pushed them away, TJ. It’s better now but it’s not. I feel so guilty.”

“It’s only been a few days since things got back to normal. Give it some time. Try therapy with them, bring ‘em to a session.”

“Honey, I know exactly what the therapist would say. I had this same conversation when I was in college. I know it’s because I want people to be angry at me when I make a mistake. It’s what I expect. It’s what my childhood taught me, my time in foster care did.”

“Alright,” he said, kissing the side of my head. “So how’d they say to not feel guilty back then?”

“They suggested I spend time with them so I could understand that my guilt had no basis. That they loved me no matter what and that’s what the whole unconditional thing meant. It’s not bad to get afraid. It’s human and we shouldn’t be ashamed of being afraid.”

“So go spend some time with your parents,” he said.

“I spend too much time with them already,” you said, squeezing your eyes shut as he spun you around in his hold. “Other people our age-”

“I don’t give a fuck about other people our age. Our family lives around the corner and frankly, I hope they always do. I love them. I enjoy their company. Honey, I can promise you that having a close, loving family is a good thing. Allie and Colin? They fucking adore their grandparents. They regularly get to see their aunts and uncle. We have amazing family friends they get to grow up with. Those two kids are never, ever, going to doubt they they are loved and supported. You and I could die tomorrow and I know those two will turn out amazing. I promise you, we will never spend too much time with our family.”

“I worry you think I’m too needy sometimes,” you whispered, meeting his gaze. His face was gentle, short black hair still damp from his shower. “But I’ve never doubted you. I just don’t want to put too much on you. I don’t want to take away time that should be yours.”

“Oh you sweet, silly, adorable, idiot,” he chuckled, tucking your hair behind your ear, letting his finger trail down the side of your throat. “We have forever together. I know how lucky I am to spend as much time as I do with you. My job is flexible and only getting more with time. And you? You’re turning set design into a career now. What couple our age gets to spend so much of our time together? Believe me, I’m greedy to be with you as much as I can be but I am more than happy to share you with our family.”

He cupped your cheek, smiling while he gently stroked over your cheekbone. “Give spending some extra time with them a shot for me. Okay, silly goose?”

“Where did I find you?” you whispered, nuzzling into his chest.

“Orientation. I was the boy awkwardly staring at you for so long you asked if I had heatstroke.” You laughed at the memory of him just blank faced, sweating in the boiling summer heat as you stood with your orientation packet and attempted to find your parents in the crowd. You thought he was from out of state with the way he was dripping and offered him some water while finding him some shade to hide beneath. 

By the time he’d gotten his words back, you’d realized he was there on his own. No family to help him move in, find buildings, buy books. It wasn’t a conscious thought back then but you knew that ache of loneliness. Even people who came from homes with parents could feel like they were by themselves. 

“Lucky for me you took pity on me and instead of thinking I was a creeper, you showed me which line to get my packet from and pointed out where buildings were on maps and all of it. I was in love with you before I even knew your name.”

“Thomas,” you said, cheeks flushing. “Don’t be cute when I was feeling crappy five minutes ago.”

“Ah, but that’s my favorite thing to do,” he teased, kissing the tip of your nose. “Now off you go.”

“To where?” you laughed, TJ walking you over to the front door. 

“To your parents, silly. It’s only nine and we both know they don’t sleep until late. Go hang for a bit, talk to them about being together more. Me and my perky butt will be waiting here for you when you get back.”

“Okay, well that’s just cruel to put that image in my mind and then send me away,” you said as he bent down and slipped a pair of sneakers on your feet. He looked up through his lashes, putting on a sultry smile. “TJ! Stop turning me on!”

“Don’t blame me for you being stunning,” he said, rising to his feet and pecking a kiss to your lips. “Drive over for me.”

“Okay,” you said. “What are you planning on doing in the meantime?”

“Check on the munchkins, play a video game, lay in bed in my birthday suit to greet you when you get back.”

“Just don’t scar the children for life,” you laughed, feeling a gentle pat on your ass. TJ ushered you to go when you nearly dragged him towards the bedroom and finally you were out the door. Two minutes later, you were walking into your parents house, the place pretty dark. JJ was at a graduation party and spending the night there. The twins were up in the family room watching an old movie with the lights off, totally engrossed with it. You figured your parents were on their private balcony and headed for their room.

“Oh fuck!” you shouted when you saw way more of your father than you ever wanted to. You quickly slammed the door and stood outside the room, pacing away as you shook your head. “Nope. Nope. Nope. I didn’t see that. I did not see that.”

The door opened after a moment, your mom slipping out in a pair of joggers and a silky black pajama shirt.

“I am so sorry, honey. I thought dad locked the door,” she said as you kept walking, shaking your head. “Are you okay?”

“Was he giving you a fucking naked lap dance?” you said, a coy smile on her face as she shrugged. “Mom!”

“Oh, you’ve seen his ass before when you watched The Boys,” she said.

“I knew that was going to happen! And I saw a whole lot more than just ass,” you said, shivering your whole body as the twins came down from their movie.

“I remember when I walked in on them,” said your brother, wearing a shit eating grin as you groaned. “Dad’s got a huge-”

“I don’t need a reminder!” you said, your dad clearing his throat as he came out in a pair of sweatpants and gray t-shirt. 

“Things going okay out here?” he asked, forcing a smile.

“Talking about your apparently huge dick,” said Arrow. Your mom couldn’t help but laugh as your dad groaned, the twins starting to giggle. “What? It’s the truth.”

“While I normally appreciate how open we are as a family, I mean this in the nicest way, we are never bringing this topic up again,” said your dad with a sigh. “Go finish your movie and for the love of god never talk about this again.”

Your mom was still laughing, earning a small headlock from him. “It’s your fault you didn’t lock the door!”

“Yes, I know,” he groaned, letting her go and standing in front of you with an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry for scaring you for life, kiddo.”

“It’s fine,” you sighed, crossing your arms. “In terms of traumatizing events, this ranks pretty low for me. Besides, mom told me when I started having sex with TJ about your sex life.”

His head whipped around and she held up her hands. “Hey. She had questions and I answered them.”

“I wouldn’t have told her how big…you know,” he grumbled. 

“I didn’t. I just said above average is nice!”

“As much fun as this conversation is, I’d like to repress this memory if possible so I’m going to let you guys continue with your magic mike moment-”

You heard the twins howl in laughter, your dad storming past you and over towards the stairs.

“You two start high school in the fall and guess what talk we’re having tomorrow?” he said. They both groaned for a moment before you heard noise again, your dad wiping his hand over his face. 

“They both know what sex is,” you said, his eyes wide. “I gave them both the talk like years ago.”

“You did?” they both asked.

“Yeah. I gave it to all of them. It’s a lot easier for big sis to tell you than mom and dad, especially when dad makes talking about sex so freaking awkward,” you said, cocking your head.

“Well, thank you,” he said, nodding once. “And if that’s something you want to discuss, then we can.”

“I’m good. I just enjoy torturing you in return for the trauma I endured tonight,” you said with a smile. Your mom giggled as he pushed you both into the bedroom, closing the door behind himself.

“Well the mood is gone so what’s up?” he asked as you sat very specifically not on the bed and wandered over to the large window out back. You spun on your heels, both of them watching with concerned eyes.

“I…have been feeling guilty about doubting you guys that you’d hurt me like the sperm and egg donor did and…I’d like to try that thing we did when I was younger and spending more time with you guys helped…if that’s cool,” you said, biting your bottom lip. 

“Honey, of course you can hang out with us more often,” said your mom. She wrapped you up in a hug, letting you melt into her. “Dad and I were talking earlier and hoping we could steal some time with you. We missed you.”

“I missed you guys too,” you said, feeling your dad come up behind you and hug you, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“You don’t have anything to feel guilty about,” he whispered, kissing the top of your head. 

“I know I shouldn’t but I know I hurt you both and that’s something I have to deal with.”

“It hurts more knowing how much you hurt yourself for being human, kiddo,” he said.

“I know how scared you were that I’d stop-“

“You didn’t stop loving us,” he said. “You were afraid and sometimes, your kids get scared. It’s that simple.”

You nodded, enjoying being squished between them, a calm feeling settling in your bones. 

“There she is,” he murmured as he felt you relax. “Better?”

“Yeah,” you said. Your mom tugged you over to the bed, your eyebrows raising.

“It’s clean, I promise.” She slid into her side of the bed, tugging you down in the middle as your dad moved in on your other side. “So we could watch a movie, play a game-“

“Guys,” you said. “It’s okay. You had other plans-“

“And now our plans are to spend time with you,” said your dad, throwing his arm over your shoulders, tucking you into his side. You glanced up, frowning at the deep worry in his eyes. “Honey, you never have to ask us to be with you like you’re some kind of bother. Please know that.”

“You know me,” you said, your mom scooting closer, taking one of your hands in hers. “Can I maybe, I know how this is going to sound-“

“Y/N. Ask like we’re your mom and dad, not strangers,” said your mom. 

“I know that too. I’m a little shaky I guess,” you breathed out, both of them holding your closer. “Can we spend more time together, like one on one? Like make a night or something for us like we did when I was younger? That really helped me back then and TJ thinks it’ll help now too.”

“Knew there was a reason I loved that boy,” said your mom. “Of course we can do that.”

You felt your dad stiffen though, your head turning up. He looked sad, pouting almost. 

“You have to go away for a project soon, don’t you,” you said quietly. 

“Oh no,” said your mom, her hand leaving yours, both of them covering her mouth. “We both have to for two weeks starting on Tuesday. Daddy’s gone for over a month.”

“JJ was going to be in charge and we were going to come home on the weekends but-“

“You have work. I understand.” Still, tears prickled in the corner of your eyes. Why’d you have to be so stupid and push them away for the past month? Now they were both going to be gone.

“Come with us.” Your dad turned your cheek to face him, wiping away a stray droplet before it could fall. “We need to be together again for a little bit. Come to the project with us for two weeks and then you can decide to stay with me or go home with mom but either way you got at least one of us.”

“That’s a long time to be away from Allie and Colin,” you said, biting your bottom lip. “But I know TJ can handle it. I need to talk to him first. I can’t make that kind of decision on my own.”

“We understand. Trust me. Dad and I have had a lot of those conversations over the years.” You already knew TJ would tell you to go and have fun. But you’d never spent more than a few days away from the kids. 

“The little one’s will survive. Give ‘em a call and facetime them everyday and it helps. Believe me, nothing beats a hug from them when you’ve been gone for a few weeks,” said your dad. “They’ve dealt with TJ being gone for a week for work before. They’ll be alright if you choose to go.”

“I know they would. It’s me I don’t know about,” you said, closing your eyes. “Let me talk to TJ and I’ll give you guys an answer in the morning.”

“Whatever you want to do. We can always hang out when we get back too,” he said, kissing your temple. “So can I interest you ladies in a game of Mario Kart?”

Three days later you were walking into an upscale cabin you were sharing with your parents, most of the other cabins at the unique little hotel filled with cast and crew for the movie your parents were making. They were producing it and your dad was starring as the main character. You’d done the set design on it nearly a year prior and while you’d forgotten most of the story, you were excited to see one of your sets in person. Plus you hadn’t seen your dad on a film set in more than a few years and knew seeing him act in person was a rare treat.

After you ditched your bags in the spare bedroom, you changed and met up with your parents for a pre-shoot dinner they were hosting at a restaurant in town with the cast and some of the higher ups. While the dinner was fun, you were tired from traveling all the way to Vancouver all day. You ducked outside to give TJ a quick call but were reluctant to go back inside and have to be social again when you were exhausted.

“Hey,” said a woman around your age if you had to guess, her hair silky and tied back in a loose ponytail, a black floral tank top and jeans on. “You’re Y/N, right?”

“Uh yeah,” you said, offering her a smile. “You’re Cara Micks. You’re playing Maddie. My parents were really glad they managed to get you. Everybody wants you in their stuff after that indie film.”

“One little Oscar nom and suddenly I’m not surviving off ramen in an apartment with four roommates,” she laughed, nodding her head. “I uh, I’m really glad I got this role, even if it’s not what my agent wanted me to pick. Working with your dad is like a dream come true. He has such a good reputation. I know this’ll be a good set.”

“I can guarantee it’ll be one of the best you ever work on,” you said as she wiped off her forehead.

“Plus it’s a good story. You did the set design, right?” she asked. You hummed, her eyes lighting up. “I got to sneak down and see some of the set mock ups earlier today. They look really cool. I’d love to know more about how that kind of stuff works. If that’s okay. People seem to think I know a lot about this business when I’ve really only done a few gigs before.”

“Well, I’ve never been on a set I’ve designed before so I’m right there with you but I’d happily answer any questions. I’ll leave the acting stuff to my dad though. I can barely tell you what a mark is,” you said, Cara smiling as she closed her eyes. “You good to drive?”

“Yeah, just tired. I’ll see you tomorrow though. Maybe we can grab lunch?” she asked.

“Sure,” you said, Cara handing over her phone. You exchanged numbers and watched her drive off as your parents walked out of the restaurant, others trailing out. 

“Ready for bed? We got an early day tomorrow,” said your mom. You hummed and closed your eyes, your dad rubbing your back.

“Come on. Sooner we get back soon you can head to sleep.”

“Oh my god! It’s my basement!” you said, hopping up and down when you walked onto set the next morning. 

“And what a lovely torture basement it is, kiddo,” laughed your dad. You walked around the set, poking at the shelves, surprised they actually put the cobblestone walls in. He nudged you when you ran your hands over it, a proud smile on his face. “It does look good. Appreciate the fact you know an old shack would have cobblestone and not cinder blocks.”

“That was the point,” you said, walking around the space, stopping at the chair in the center of the basement. “They even found the same chair!”

“They do tend to make the sets match what’s designed,” he chuckled, following you around set, hands clasped behind his back. “You should do this full-time. Design.”

“I don’t know,” you said with a shrug, watching him take a seat on the wooden steps. You sat down in the chair across from him, resting your chin in your hands. “TJ has great benefits so it’s not like a fear of having to be self-employed or not getting gigs. I could not work and we’d be perfectly fine.”

“If you have a sense of obligation to stay at the brewery-”

“I know I don’t have to,” you said. “The team does all the real work.”

“So what’s keeping you from giving it a shot? I mean,” he said, leaning back on his elbows, kicking his legs out in front of him, “You’ve got more than a few projects under your belt. You have the resume, connections. You can set your own schedule. Granted, yeah, it’s not going to be every single day and there’ll be long days sometime but you’ve already handled that with two small kids and working another job.”

“I know,” you said, his head cocking as he smiled. 

“So…” You closed your eyes and sighed.

“My brewery job you gave me. And somehow people always know I’m your daughter, even when I use Hanover in projects. I just…if I do this full time people are going to assume I got the job because of my dad and I’ll never know if it’s because I’m good at it or if a director wants to work with you. You know?” He nodded, smirking as he glanced down at the concrete floor. “You know it’s true.”

“Nepotism is a thing in this industry for sure. But I also am a product of that through grandpa and people he knew. Nepotism gets you in the door as a guest and it’s right to acknowledge that. Talent gets you invited to stay at the party long after all the wannabe’s head home.”

“But I didn’t earn it like someone off the street,” you said. He sighed, running his hand through his hair.

“Cold hard truth? No one knew who the fuck you were when you submitted that first portfolio for your first project. Nobody. I know that because I worked with the director of that project after and he had zero clue you’re my kid. He recommended you to other projects before I came along so you did earn it. You’re right. You’ll never know for sure but you shouldn’t stop because of it. You don’t always have to start in last place to be worthy of earning first.”

“But nepotism is basically cheating your way to first,” you said.

“Sometimes, yeah. Sometimes, it’s a kid who is talented who got in on her own and won’t give herself a break to do something she clearly loves because she thinks it was a gift. Even if it was a gift, take it. Life threw enough shit at you. Take the nice crap too.”

You pursed your lips, looking around. “You think I’m good at this?”

“Mom and I didn’t approach you to do this project for shits and giggles. We knew you’d do quality work and sure as shit, you did. There are not a lot of sets on this film. Most scenes take place out in the woods so the pieces we do have, they need to be fucking good. And this room doesn’t even have four walls and it’s scary as hell so yeah, I’d say you’re good at this.” He stood up, holding out his hands. “Come on, let’s go check out the rest of the sets.”

“Has anyone seen Cara today?” asked the director, Dave close to lunchtime. You glanced up from where you sat in your dad’s chair, your mom over at the film tent with the other producers.

“She’s still not here?” asked your dad as he walked off set. They’d been filming for a few hours for his scenes at the police station but those were wrapped up, everyone ready to start in the basement once lunch break was over. “That doesn’t seem like her.”

You pulled out your phone and dialed, getting no answer. You tried a few more times and got more of the same. 

“This fucking kid,” grumbled Dave, leaning back in his seat. “Can someone get over to her hotel room and tell her to get her ass on set? I don’t care if she was nominated for a fucking Oscar. She pulls any diva shit and I’ll kick her out.”

“She said she was tired last night,” you said, several heads turning your direction. “When we left dinner. She looked a little ill too, like sweaty.”

“Well if she’s sick she’s supposed to call in. She better be fucking dying for not giving notice,” said Dave. You raised your eyebrow at him, Dave giving it right back. “I’m not being dramatic. It’s in her contract what she’s supposed to do if she’s sick.”

“Maybe so but a little common decency doesn’t hurt. You shouldn’t wish for someone to be ‘fucking dying’ because they’re not at work on time,” you shot back. You could feel the eyes on you, most of the nearby crew watching you. 

To your surprise Dave nodded, his face relaxing. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have said that. Let’s have someone get over to her place and see what’s going on.”

People dispersed for lunch, your parents holding hands as they stopped at the chair and your dad grabbed his phone.

“Sorry I did that,” you said as you stood. They shared a smile, your dad tucking you under his shoulders as you walked out of the studio.

“We’re not,” said your mom, tilting her head up to your dad. “Remember when she used to be scared of men?”

“You wouldn’t know it with that little display,” he said, squeezing your shoulder. “And you think you’re riding off my reputation in this business. Think again, tall munchkin. Things like that are why people want to work with you.”

“I could have done it privately,” you said with a shrug.

“Don’t take shit on a set. We both did,” said your mom. “It’s nice to know you won’t.”

“Well, what’s the worst that’ll happen? I get fired? So what,” you said. 

“We did good,” said your dad, releasing you to high-five your mom. You rolled your eyes and walked ahead, turning around to walk backwards.

“Excuse me but I did good. Y’all were just like…there,” you said, smirking. Both their faces fell and you sighed, stopping in your tracks. “Oh my god, it was a joke! Guys. You two driving me insane as a teenager was incredibly helpful. You definitely did good. Promise.”

“Well,” said your mom with a smile, “It was a team effort.”

“It was,” you said, your dad biting his bottom lip. You spun around and smiled. “It didn’t hurt having a good guy want to be my dad. He set the bar high so I don’t accept shit. I appreciate that.”

You glanced over your shoulder and caught him smiling off to the side, his cheeks a hot pink.

“Dad are you blushing?” you teased. He snapped his attention to you and rolled his eyes, failing to keep his lips from curling up. 

“God no. I don’t blush,” he scoffed. 

“Sure you don’t,” you said, smiling as you headed for the catering tent. “I forgot you’re a super tough manly man.”

“Damn straight I am,” he said. You shook your head and got in line, looking up when you felt him by your side. “You shouldn’t feel guilty.”

“Dad-” you said quietly as you both stepped forward. 

“Your parents hurt us, they hurt you. You didn’t do anything to us. I wouldn’t be strong enough to risk getting hurt by another set of parents let alone believe they love me. I’d be terrified. You’ve always been the strong one in this family, kiddo. You don’t have to say nice things to make me feel better.”

You shook your head, smiling when you looked down. “I don’t say things to you to make you feel better, dad. You or mom. I only say what I believe and genuinely, you made me know what to expect out of men and if they don’t deliver, I’ll let them know about it. I’m not blowing smoke up your ass.”

He smirked, nodding to himself. “You stopped feeling guilty before we even got out here, didn’t you.”

“What can I say? You guys give good pep talks,” you said, feeling your mom hug your waist from behind. “It’s still cool that I came out though right?”

“Don’t ask dumb questions, kiddo,” he chuckled. “Let’s get some lunch and hopefully Cara will be back by then.”

“We have a big problem,” said Dave, stopping by your lunch table about twenty minutes later. Your parents left, leaving the rest of you wondering what was going on. When your lunch break was up, people headed back to their various departments, your dad appearing out of nowhere and giving you a strange look.

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

“Cara has food poisoning it sounds like. The PA that went over found her vomiting. She’s taking her to the hospital to get some fluids in her. Hopefully she’s feeling better later.”

“Oh. Well that’s good,” you said, that strange look still there. “Dad…”

“Technically the scenes we need to film this afternoon are all my coverage. Since Cara’s stunts don’t start until next week, her stunt double and stand in aren’t here yet. But you may have noticed you and Cara share a certain-”

“You want me to fucking double for Cara Micks? Me?” you asked as he smiled.

“You guys are the same height, size. Your hair’s almost the exact same. Literally all you have to do is put on some clothes, sit in a chair with some make up on and make sounds like you’re scared. It’s not going to be hard at all.” You stared at him, his eyes searching yours. “I promise it’s as easy as-”

You crossed your arms and glanced down, kicking at the pavement. “You’re filming the scenes where Ben finds Maddie. Your coverage.”

“Exactly,” he said, voice dropping slightly. “You don’t have to. We can find another woman to I’m sure. I just thought you’re perfect for it already. But you don’t-”

“Dad. It’s not the being a stand in. I don’t mind that,” you said. He cocked his head when you raised yours, sighing deeply. “I’m nervous that…I know that scene. I remember it from the design. Maddie is tied up in a chair in a basement. And I know it’s a film set and it’s safe but…”

You shrugged, smiling wearily.

“House six,” you whispered, his head nodding. “I’m just-”

“I never should have asked,” he said softly. “I’m sorry.” 

“Dad, no,” you said, grabbing his arm before he could go. You tugged him away between some trailers, letting go when you ran your hand through your hair. 

“Tall munchkin, there is no way I would make you do that. I am so sorry I-”

“Stop. Please.” He snapped his lips shut. After a beat you leaned back against a trailer wall, breathing slowly. “Ben’s a cop. House six, that prick was a cop. I need…I don’t know the script that much, only the early parts, if at all. Tell me Ben’s a good guy.”

“He has his rough spots but by the end of the movie, Ben and Maddie are basically father and daughter. It’s a big step for her considering her own father is the one that had her kidnapped and then tried to kill her.” You pursed your lips, his eyes scanning the clouds overhead. “This is going to sound corny as hell but just listen to me for a minute.”

“Okay,” you said as he met your gaze.

“You’re a grown woman. I recognize that and respect it. You can make your own choices, own mistakes, successes. You have a husband and children and I know when you’re in trouble, I’m not the first person you turn to anymore. That’s okay. It’s normal.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and smirked. “But you’re still my little girl. I will always do my best to protect you or I’ll go down swinging in the process. You don’t have to worry about if the character I’m playing is good or bad. I’m your dad. Behind every character is me. And you know me and what I’d do for you.”

You looked away, nodding a few times.

“You don’t have to do this. At all. But understand that I would not allow anything to happen to you if I didn’t believe it was safe. I’ll let you get some bumps and scrapes along the way cause that’s life. But no more scars. Because I told you that night on the road my job is to protect you, that I’ll never hurt you. You know that deep down but you need to hear it out loud sometimes because you get scared.”

You felt him step closer and forced yourself to face him. “What?”

“I will never let anything like what happened in that house happen to you again. Understand?” 

“Okay.”

“Okay,” he smiled, giving you a hug. “Why don’t you go hang out in my trailer for a bit? It’s going to take a little bit to find someone and start filming again.”

“Well,” you said, his eyebrow raising, “You or mom will be nearby the whole time right?”

“Absolutely,” he said. You shrugged and nodded. “You change your mind?”

“I can do it,” you said. “You sure you can?”

“Me?” he laughed. “What do you mean?”

“You gonna be cool with seeing me with fake blood and stuff?” He cocked his head and smirked. 

“Fake blood I can handle,” he said, your mom stopping by the end of the trailer. “She says she good with it.”

“Oh thank you,” she sighed, quickly grabbing your hand and dragging you behind her. “Jensen, you need to change while I get her ready.”

“See you on set, kiddo.”

“Thank you everyone,” called Dave at the end of the day. You stretched out as you stood up from the chair, your dad rubbing your shoulders that had a small ache to them. “That’s a wrap for the day.”

“How you feeling?” asked your dad, massaging the muscles with my force, the ache soothing away.

“That helps,” you said, Dave coming over to you. 

“I really do appreciate you filling in for us today, Y/N,” he said. 

“It’s no problem. I didn’t have to do much,” you said.

“Well thanks anyways, and for calling me out earlier. I want this to be a fun set.”

“I think I figured that out when dad started carrying me out of the scene upside down,” you laughed, your dad chuckling. “How’s Cara feeling?”

Dave shared a look with your dad, his hands falling away from you. “She still at the hospital?”

“Appendicitis. It fucking popped this afternoon.”

“Shit,” said your dad. “That’s bad.”

“She was being prepped for surgery when it happened, which was good, I guess. They were able to go in fast and clean her up. I was going to drop by in a bit and check up on her.”

“Dee and I’ll go too. Her parents know?”

“On the way but Florida’s pretty far. They won’t be here until around midnight. I’ll see you guys there,” he said when he got pulled away by another producer.

“Can I go?” you asked. 

“Sure. Let’s stop by hair and makeup so they can clean you up first.”

The Next Morning

“What do you think they’re going to do?” said the key grip as everyone ate breakfast together. Cara was doing better but she was on strong antibiotics so she didn’t get an infection and her surgery had been more invasive than if her appendix hadn’t burst. All in all, it meant she was on bed rest for a few weeks and looking at a full month before she was going to be cleared for work.

Which wouldn’t have been a big problem if your dad didn’t have a project lined up for six weeks from now. 

“There’s no way we can finish on time unless they got in a backfill today,” said Molly, your dad’s PA, slurping down a bowl of oatmeal. “Jensen has two different films he’s supposed to be in once we wrap and they’re big studio ones. No way he’d drop those to finish this late with Cara.”

“Couldn’t they just push until after he does the movies? That’s only a few weeks, really randomly too. He wouldn't be needed every day at those,” you said. The key grip, a very, very tall man named Ivan shook his head.

“Cara’s got a Marvel role she starts prepping for then. By the time both their schedules are free it’s late winter and we can’t film in that, not when the movie takes place in the early fall. So that pushes us back to next summer which a lot of the time means we’re dead in the water.”

“Yup,” said Molly with a sigh. “I liked this job. Your dad’s not a dickhead and I’ve worked with some dickheads before.”

“How hard is it to find another actress though? Couldn’t they call up like the girl that came in second in the auditions?” you asked. They shared a look and you frowned. “I clearly am not in on the gossip.”

“It’s okay. You just got here,” said Molly, slurping up more oatmeal. “Rumor is it took like five months to find someone to play Maddie. No one could pull off the intense moments in the script until they got Cara. It’s an amazing script but damn, the lead actress has to be able to do a fucking lot.”

“What do you mean? How’s that different than any other story?” you asked, Ivan chuckling. “I am so out of the loop.”

“Set designers normally are. We hardly ever see you guys to be fair. But basically Maddie in the story has be vulnerable but funny, a whimpering mess but also frighteningly creepy. Soft but strong. Do a number of fight scenes with grown ass men twice her size. All while running around in the woods most days, freezing her ass off during the many night shoots and being able to not oversell the emotional moments and have it come off as cheesy instead of awesome. It’ll be a miracle to find someone like Cara Micks.”

“Oh. Well that sucks. The movie sounds cool. I really want to see if get made,” you said, your mom ducking into the tent with a smile, waving you over. “I’ll be back guys.”

“Let us know if you find out anything!” said Molly. You gave them a smile and walked out of the tent with your mom, surprised when she was practically jogging away.

“Where are you going?” you laughed, following after, grateful you were in a pair of sneakers and leggings today. She just waved and you followed her into your dad’s trailer, many pairs of eyes on you. Your dad and Dave were there along with the other producers that were on set, the assistant director, the writer and a few other people you didn’t know. “Hi.”

You took the only open seat at the far end of the little couch across from your dad, Dave walking over and squatting down in front of you. “Uh, can someone explain what’s happening?”

“I’m sure you’ve heard we’re a bit fucked without Cara. We can’t film a two lead movie without one of our leads. She’s a hard girl to replace,” said Dave. Your eyes flicked up to your dad, his lips pressed into a thin line. “We would like it if you’d entertain us for a few hours and try to film a few scenes with Jensen. You already did the stand in work yesterday and that was great-”

“I played a barely conscious girl yesterday. I didn’t have to do anything.” You got to your feet and shook your head. “I can’t act let alone replace the girl who almost got an Oscar. I will happily be a stand-in but guys…y’all do realize I’m not related by blood to these guys, right? There is zero chance any acting talent was passed along. I haven’t acted since the fourth grade where I played girl #4. Does that sound like the person you want starring in a freaking movie with him?”

Your dad shrugged. “I think you’re selling yourself short.”

You were wide eyed, mouth dropping. Had he lost his mind?

“You’re very smart. You had a lot of good suggestions during pre-production,” said Dave, taking a seat on the couch. 

“Sets. Sets I get. I have a degree in architecture and so does my husband. I know walls and floors and ceilings. This? I have zero fucking clue about acting.” Dave looked at your parents, slowly returning his gaze back to you. “I can’t do it. I’ll ruin your damn movie.”

“Well we can’t film shit without Cara so let us try for two hours. If you’re as shitty as you say you are, then I have no problem telling you that. Let us try to grab a life preserver before we go down with the ship. That’s all we’re asking,” said Dave. You grumbled, putting your back to the room before sighing.

“Fine. But no one get mad at me when I can’t do it, alright?” you said, turning around with a huff.

“Perfect. Get her a script and in hair and make up. Jensen, we’ll give you twenty minutes to rehearse before we’ll try on set.” You were ushered out of the room and twenty later you were back there with a wad of paper in your hand, wearing the same dirty t-shirt, leggings and sneakers you wore in the basement scene yesterday.

“Why the fuck would you volunteer me for this?” you said the second you were in his trailer, your dad snapping his head up from where he sat on the couch with his own papers. “When have I ever expressed an interest in acting? I look like shit. I’m not a bombshell like Cara Micks. I look like damn roadkill. You are insane for thinking I could pull something like this off. Why, why do you think I can do this? What is wrong with you, dad?”

He looked you up and down, a soft smile on his face. “Stop smiling! I’m pissed!”

“You do realize the qualities Maddie has in the movie are all ones you have, don’t you? You can do it because you have done it. And don’t tell me you can’t act,” he scoffed. You threw up your hands, dropping your papers.

“Of course I can’t fucking act! Why on earth would you think I can?” you said. He walked over in front of you, crossing his arms and staring you down. “What is wrong with you? I can’t-”

“You can act with the best of them.” You could only stare with wide eyes, growing angrier at the smug expression on his face.

“Stop saying that!” you shot back. “Why would you make me do this? I’m going to humiliate myself and you and mom and-”

He started to laugh and you’d had enough. You turned to leave, his hands gently catching your shoulders. You swore your eye was twitching when you faced him, that stupid smile still there.

“Oh, kiddo. I watched you put on a class act for months when you first came to us. Before that? Acted your ass off in those shitty foster homes. Acted your ass off when you put in anonymous calls to get the truly awful ones shut down. Pretended it was all okay to those monsters faces when it was eating you up inside. Even with your birth parents you pretended to be perfect for them.” He got in your face, tilting his head ever so slightly. “You can act and it’s like I told you yesterday. You’re safe here. So trust me to keep you safe and you can act when your damn survival doesn’t depend on it for the first time in your life. Trust me, it’s going to be a hell of a lot easier than the last time you acted.”

You frowned, growling as he leaned back. “Has anyone ever told you how irritating it is that you always have a fucking point?”

“I recall being told once or twice by a certain munchkin,” he chuckled, picking up the papers and handing them over. “Oh and Y/N? You are beautiful, even with that bruised makeup on your face. Believe me.”

“Dad. You have to say that.”

“Hm, no I don’t,” he laughed, taking a seat. “You don’t know how many death glares I’ve handed out over the years. Plus your husband never shuts up about how pretty you are.”

“Don’t make me smile. I’m still annoyed with you,” you said, sitting down at his kitchenette table, fixing your pages. “Do I have to have this memorized?”

“Let’s just practice a few times and go from there.”

Two Weeks Later

It was quiet out. Then again it normally was at two in the morning. You sipped on your thermos of hot coffee while the crew took a short break. You passed it to your dad beside you, the two of you sat in front of a fire in the forest. Above you was a clearing in the sky, so many stars out in the deep wilderness.

“You’re happy.” You glanced to your right, the shadows dancing across his face. 

“Yeah,” you whispered, looking back up at the sky. “It’s so pretty here.”

“I’m really glad I get to do this with you,” he said quietly. 

“Me too.” You took the thermos back from him, taking another sip. You were both quiet, watching the flames in front of you. He wore a long sleeve henley while you were still in your t shirt and leggings. But at least tonight you got to wear his warm flannel between takes. Until he’d give it to you in the scene at least. You set the thermos behind the log where it’d be hidden from view when they turned the cameras back on in a few minutes, catching your dad close his eyes. “Dad. Don’t fall asleep.”

“I’m not sleeping. Just happy.” You hummed, connecting the stars in the sky, trying to find the big dipper. “Kiddo?”

“Yeah?” 

“It’s to the left of that branch.” You spotted him with eyes open, darting around as they made connections.

“I used to sit outside when I was a kid and stare at the stars. No one ever bothered me when I did that,” you said, pointing out the little dipper to him. “Always seemed so peaceful up there.”

“Did you find a little peace down here?” You nodded, laughing quietly. “What’s so funny?”

“You wonder where I get it from,” you said, shaking your head. “You want to be told you’re loved as much as I do.”

“I suppose I do,” he said, the heat of his gaze on you. 

“Yeah, I found my peace down here. Don’t think I ever told him the night of my seventeenth birthday was the first time I slept through the night in a decade. I got my peace a very long time ago, just was afraid of losing it.”

“Afraid anymore?” he whispered. You shook your head, catching Orion far off on the other side of the clearing. 

“No. No one can take my peace away from me ever again.” He shifted closer, letting you rest your head on his shoulder. “This is the longest I’ve ever been away from TJ since we’ve been together.”

He hummed, breathing softly.

“How do you stand being away from mom for weeks at a time?” He crossed his arms, smiling to himself.

“Why do you think I’d fly all night just to see her and you guys for half a day? We know how to make long distance work. Our whole relationship has always had an element of it. But getting a hug when you get home eases that ache that forms.”

“I miss Thomas,” you whispered. 

“You’ll see him and the babies tomorrow,” he said, crew memembers starting to gather back around, eyes fluttering open. “He has a surprise for you.”

“Oh god. What’d he do?” He held up his hands and scooted back over to his mark. You put on puppy dog eyes, a sigh leaving him. 

“He and the kids made you a cake. He misses you too.” You inhaled deeply. “Do you regret-”

“No. I just need a moment with him is all.” You forced a smile and nodded. “Alright. Let’s do this.”

Three Weeks Later

“You’re so pretty,” whispered TJ as you exited the bathroom in a pair of pajama shorts and one of his t-shirts. You laughed, pushing back your damp hair before crawling into bed with him. “I can’t believe I’m sleeping with a movie star.”

You slapped his chest, TJ giggling, rolling himself so he rested his chin on your chest. You ran your fingers through his dark strands, TJ inhaling slowly.

“If this was something you wanted to try, you know we’ll figure it out, right?” You smiled, nodding once.

“People said I did good.”

“If you mean your parents bragging about how fucking incredible you did then sure, you did good.” You traced your finger over his cheek, concern growing in his eyes. “You’ve moved on from the brewery and we both know it. You can clearly do this acting thing if you wanted.”

“Thomas,” you sighed. He wrapped his arms under you, giving you a squeeze. “The only reason I did it in the first place was to help. I did it to spend time with my parents. I got to hang out with my dad so much and a lot of the stuff we filmed…I couldn’t have done that with someone else.”

“I have no problem with you not taking your career that direction if you don’t want to do it. But I don’t want you to not try because you do want it and you’re scared. I want you to go after everything you want in life,” he said quietly, tilting his head up, kissing your jaw. “That’s all I want from you.”

“I don’t want it,” you said, closing your eyes. “I want to get into set design full time. Being away for so long, even coming home on the weekend in the middle there…I don’t want to be gone from you guys for that long regularly.”

“I understand, believe me. We missed you too,” he said, giving you another squeeze. “But we’d go with you if you wanted.”

“I know you would,” you murmured, slowly peeling open your eyes to find him with a smile on his lips. “Let’s put it in the maybe someday again category, if it were with my parents. Until then, I am ready to take a few weeks off and spend some time home.”

He nuzzled you and chuckled. “Why not make a vow to not leave this bed? That can easily be arranged.”

“You’re cockier than usual, my sweet boy,” you teased, TJ lifting himself up on his hands, leaning down over you. “Feeling needy?”

“I haven’t slept with my wife in three weeks. I’m fucking needy. Now if the movie star was so kind-” You smacked him with a pillow, TJ putting on a shocked face. “Is this how you hollywood types are?”

“You’re such an ass!” you laughed, hitting him again, TJ plopping all of his weight down straight on top of you. “Thomas!”

A throat cleared in the room, TJ spinning around and in front of you quickly, your dad smirking at you both. “Well I didn’t mean to interrupt this strange…whatever flirting thing this is but I do need to talk to Y/N. It’s kind of important.”

“What’s up?” you asked, shoving a pillow in TJ’s lap to hide the tent in his pants. 

“Your birth parents got wind that you were doing a movie.” You narrowed your eyes as he sighed. “They gave an interview an hour ago. My team is freaking out. I couldn’t care less what they say but-”

“But it could damage your reputation.” 

He was blank faced but you knew it could be turn into a big deal. “I don’t give a shit about mine. But they said you only got set design jobs because I got them for you and I know how much it means to you to make your name on your own. Just don’t look at your phones or go online for a while. I’m going to fix this. I promise.” 

“Is there anything we should do? Or I guess shouldn’t?” asked TJ. 

“I know you two are careful about handing out your numbers but don’t answer any calls-”

“I know how to fix all of this,” you said. You felt both of their eyes on you as you climbed out of bed and tugged on TJ’s hoodie sitting on the bench at the foot of it. You glanced back at TJ and then to your dad.

“You want me to release that video. The security footage from the back porch with your parents,” he said. 

“Yes and no.” You slipped past him and went down the hall to the kitchen, both of them following as you grabbed an empty coffee mug from the cabinet. You set it under the coffee machine and after a moment it was churning, the pair of them looking very confused. “On a scale of one to ten, how much will your team freak out if you don’t say anything for like…twelve hours?”

“Considering this is the most controversial thing that’s ever happened to me, probably like a fifty. Why? You’re thinking of something,” he said.

“Like I said, I know how to fix this. But I need time and a few other things.”

“This isn’t your mess to fix,” he said. “I’ll release the video with a statement or-”

“Or…you can give me what I need and I can guarantee anyone with a brain who thinks you and mom manipulated me will change their minds.” You could tell he didn’t want to have to get you involved. He knew how much they’d hurt you. All he wanted to do was protect you from them ever doing that again.

“Give her a chance, Jensen,” said TJ, getting out another mug for himself. “I know my wife. If she has an idea, let’s give it a shot.”

You stepped forward and stood in front of him, his lips pressed into a thin line. “It’s your choice, dad. We can do whatever you and your team want. I just feel like if I said something first it’d mean more. I really need you trust me with this if you-”

“What do you need?” he asked, a small smile on his lips. You nodded, inhaling deeply and grabbing the pad of paper and a pen from nearby.

“You instagram password to start.” He jotted it down, giving you a look to not do anything stupid with his account. “I also need the login to the cloud account with the video backup at the house.”

“I can send you the video of your parents directly. It’ll be easier than-”

“Dad. Just give me the login.” He wrote down more on the pad, his eyes concerned now. “How far back does it go?”

“Since we had the house. What-”

“Is it just video or audio too?”

“Both…I’m pretty sure the security company compresses the files.” You hummed, grabbing the paper and picking up your mug, heading for your home office.

“Uh, is there anything we can do?” asked TJ. You spun around and took a sip of coffee.

“Keep the coffee coming and dad, tell your team you need to discuss with your family and you’ll have a statement out by the morning. Otherwise, do not disturb me.”

You slipped away into your office, leaning back against it. 

“This is gonna be a long night.”

Twelve Hours Later

You yawned as you exited your office, quickly making your way down to the bedroom and plopping down next to a sleeping TJ. You were asleep in an instant and woke up a few hours later at noon to TJ shoving on your shoulder.

You were pretty sure you growled at him but he knew how tired you were after the jet lag and staying up a full day. But you needed to try to get your schedule back on track so you reluctantly let him pull you up to sitting.

“You’re on CNN! Come look!” he said. You shook your head, TJ hoisting you up, carrying you bridal style into the family room where what looked like your entire family sat watch the news.

And there was your face from the video you’d made in the middle of the night smack dab in the middle of the screen. TJ set you down as heads turned, your mom rushing over and hugging you.

“How did you make that so fast? How…you didn’t have to share those things, honey,” she said, holding on tight. 

“I just wanted people to know the difference between a bad parent and a good one,” you said, surprised to find your dad missing. “Is dad mad? I know I put a lot of private moments in and things he’d probably wished had stayed a secret.”

You spotted him come out of the hallway where the half-bath was, his face neutral. He was mad. Of course he was mad. You’d been sleep deprived when you put that video together. You fucked it up. You should have just let him handle it so you didn’t make it worse.

“Dad, I’m sorry. I should have…” you trailed off when he held up his finger and stepped in front of you. He looked you up and down and nodded a few times. “I’m sorry.”

“You make a video telling the world how miserable you used to be, about some of the bad things foster parents did and calling them out by name, about how mom and I changed your life, about how I…” he clamped his mouth shut, glancing away with a scrunched up face. You swore his bottom lip wobbled and smiled, watching him put his back to your siblings who were all watching intently. 

“Was it the part about you being the only real dad I’ve ever had that got you or how I called you a good man that anyone would be lucky enough to have in their life?”

“Goddammit, Y/N,” he said, wiping off his face, keeping his head turned away. “It’s one thing when we say that shit in private but you had to say it to everyone?”

“Yeah because everyone should know. Those assholes tried to fuck with you. My whole life assholes fucked with me and now they tried to do it to someone I love. I’m not letting that shit go anymore. So fuck my birth parents and fuck my other foster parents. If people find out that you’re a good person in the process then that’s a bonus to me.”

He sighed, forcing himself to turn around, a sad smile on his face. “I just wish you hadn’t felt forced to share those things.”

“I didn’t,” you said, his eyes widening ever so slightly in surprise. “All I wanted to do was send a message to those people that they can’t hurt me anymore. I’m sorry if I royally screwed stuff up for you or violated your privacy. I just wanted them to leave us alone from now on.”

“You didn’t, sweetie,” said your mom, tucking you into her side, your dad nodding, easing a bit. He cleared his throat and ruffled your hair, his smile relaxed now. 

“You with me for a second,” he said. You followed him down the hall to your room, frowning when you were alone.

“Dad I really am-” He pressed a finger to your lips shushing you, fixing your hair behind your ears.

“Do you remember after the accident when I couldn’t take showers and there was that time you helped me wash my hair?” You nodded as he fixed your part, smiling to himself. “I realized something that day.”

“What?” you asked quietly. He rested his hands on your shoulders, breathing slowly.

“You’re a good person too,” he said softly. You cocked your head, a sliver of a chuckle slipping past his lips. “I knew before then but in that moment, when you with one arm in a sling offered to help me, I just knew I was damn lucky I wound up with a kid like you.”

“You were hurt and I helped…how does that make me a good person for doing what I should have in the first place?”

“Welcome to life in my head the past three hours while everyone in my life tells me how amazing I am when all I did with you was what I was supposed to.” 

“Well…” you groaned, stomping your foot. “How do you always do that! Every single time you turn it around on me. It’s not fair!”

“I’ve been playing the game longer than you have,” he chuckled, picking up a hair tie off your dresser and bunching up your hair. “Something I learned with your youngest sister is if you start braiding their hair, then you have a captive audience so you can get out of them whatever intel you need.”

You raised your eyebrow at him as he started to work the hair together, ignoring your face. “And what intel are you looking to get out of me?”

“Just sharing a parenting tip,” he chuckled. “You? You I think I have a pretty good idea of where we stand.”

“Oh you do, huh?” You glanced down, annoyed at the fact he could do a far better fishtail braid than you ever had. He slipped the tie off his wrist, twisting it in place a few times before humming.

“Yeah. I mean, I’m apparently the best dad that ever existed so…” he said, chuckling when you lightly punched his arm. 

“You’re just…” you trailed off with a shrug, a smile on his face. “Are you mad? About me showing all those videos of us from home over the years?”

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “Honestly, I loved it. Made me cry like a baby but I loved it. I know you’re pretty damn selective about who you let in but I’m glad I made the cut.”

“Yeah, well, you’re alright for an old guy.” You smirked, getting one in return. “I love you?”

“Yeah you’re lucky I’m still in a good mood,” he said, cocking his head. “Want to know why you’re on the news?”

“Because you’re oh so famous,” you said dramatically, his eyes narrowing. “You so want to give me a noogie, don’t you.”

“The desire is strong,” he said, clasping his hands behind his back. “In news surprising no one, your birth parents were keeping more secrets. Apparently they stole money from their shady employer. A lot of money. Which then the attempt on their lives were made. They were never in witness protection. They were working a deal with the government. Go undercover and they wouldn’t be arrested for partaking in those shady deals themselves. They took the deal and ran. Feds lost them a long, long time ago. You were only supposed to be in foster care a few weeks. But when those dummies got money hungry…they seem to have forgotten they’re fugitives. Pretty interesting have people like that call me the manipulator huh?”

You parted your lips, holding up a hand. “Did they arrest them?”

“It was in process on the news when you came out,” he said as you stood and headed for the door.

“Oh, I want to see this.”

“Knock knock,” said your dad that evening as you lay in bed, ready for a full night’s sleep. “Need anything before we head out?”

“I’ll take a hug,” you said as you sat up. 

“Those I’m an expert on.” He walked over and sat on the edge of the mattress, giving a big squeezing one. “Get some rest. You had a long day.”

“So many phone calls. On the plus side my birth parents were arrested, the DA is looking into most of my old foster parents and you gained like a couple hundred thousand followers in like twelve hours. You can tell your PR team thank you.”

“She’s so modest and humble,” he teased, kissing your temple. “Tomorrow will be better. We’ll do breakfast burritos like a normal Sunday. How’s that sound?”

You hummed, closing your eyes. “Can you do one more thing before you go?”

“Shoot,” he said quietly.

“Can you go in my closet and get rid of the duffel bag with the files in it?” He leaned back, letting you lay back against your pillows. “I think it’s time for it to go. I don’t need it anymore.”

He smiled and stood up. “Okay then. Mind if I hang onto it?”

“Do as you please,” you said, closing your eyes. 

“You sure you don’t need these papers anymore?” he asked.

“I have my letters from you. That’s all I ever needed,” you said, shuffling the background. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, tall munchkin,” he said, tugging your blankets up. “You realize the studio wants us to make another movie together after this, don’t you?”

“It’s gotta be at a resort or no deal,” you said. He chuckled, quietly opening the door. “You can negotiate that right?”

“We’ll see,” he said. The room grew quiet for a beat before you heard his heavy exhale. “I’m really glad I managed to prove you wrong about trusting me. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to.”

“You’re annoyingly relentless like that,” you said, turning on your side, tucking your covers up. “Love you.”

“Love you back. Sleep tight, kiddo.”

__________

[babbling-idiot]

If it’s alright Could I please request a continuation of the Colin gray x fem cheerleader reader who has powers like telekinesis, healing, the ability to heal and control plants and has visions of the future meeting and dating headcanons and her telling Colin about her powers and her saving him from Jennifer too .? thank you.

After the incident with Jennifer, things had gotten tense. You told Colin that it would be safer to just stay with you. Of course, after saving him it was known by not just him, but you as well that it was an official relationship. You wanted to keep him safe. He hated the idea of going back to school but you knew that no one would believe him, they would think he is crazy. So, you both made a plan. You would drive him to and from school. He would come over or you would come to his house. You would keep him safe no matter what.

Truth be told, it was a bit overboard. Overthinking everything, because the thought of losing him to a monster like Jennifer, was heart wrenching. Which is why you were at colins house as of now. You had come over and suggested you both watch a movie, spend some time together to make the feeling of dread to go away.

It was nighttime when you had arrived, and it was prom. Colin had mentioned popcorn and soda, so you awaited his arrival. What you didn't expect was him running in with his phone in his hand, visibly shaking. He was talking to needy. She had mentioned that Jennifer was going to kill chip. You told colin to stay home while you go to help needy. He agreed.

You drive as fast as possible and when you got to the location needy had mentioned you hopped out and ran to the building. Running in just in time to see Jennifer walking toward needy. Blood all over her dress and face. You looked to the edge of the pool and saw chips limp body. He looked dead.

Jennifer didn't seem to notice you; you slipped behind her and ran to chip. Your powers had been amped up by the sheer adrenaline pumping through your veins. Causing chips resurrection to be swift. He didn't jump up like colin did. He slowly opened his eyes, and you told him to stay still and to not speak a word. You slipped around yet again and finally came into Jennifer's view. She laughed.

"Well, if it isn't Colins girlfriend. I hope his funeral was fun. Open or closed casket?"

You tensed your jaw at those words.

"You should've left him alone. You have no cluse who you're messing with."

She laughs at this.

"Oh, I don't? Well, in that case. Who are you then y/n?"

She says as she walks forward with a look that could kill. You raised your hands in mock surrender.

"Your worst nightmare."

You say as the air around her starts to constrict. She feels the air pressure change and is suddenly looking quite red in the face.

"What-what are you do-doing?"

She says as she places a hand on her throat. The air around her becoming so scarce. She has a look of panic on her face as she drops to the ground. Not letting up on the torture you planned for her, you stare her dead in the eyes.

"Having trouble Jen? Are you scared yet?"

Wit perfect timing and defiance, both Colin and Chip walk up behind both you and needy, showing their perfectly alive faces to her as she gasps for her last breath. She stares both shocked and empty. Her nose starts to bleed as she finally shakes. Trying to force air into her lungs but gets none. She finally drops to the ground.

For a while you keep her like that, with the air around her gone. The possibility of her faking her death would not be possibly for how long the air had been absent. You let the air invade the area. You walk closer and place a hand on her neck, checking for a pulse, there is none. You closed your eyes and searched the area around you. Feeling he presence of all the human beings in the room. You find three. You do not feel her anymore. Thankfully you now know that the only thing left of Jennifer Check, is Jennifers Body.

(Was that a corny line at the end there? I feel like it was, but I hope you liked it!)

[thiswaytwoinfinity]

just be a prick • jamie tartt x fem! reader

In honor of the season finale of Ted Lasso (because I refuse to let go of my beloved himbos), here’s a little story I wrote about everyone’s favorite scorer 😉

Warnings: smut (oral, f receiving; protected piv) so 18+ ONLY, canon-typical cursing, no use of y/n, Jamie being Jamie

Also the pic in the graphic is just for aesthetics and not indicative of reader’s appearance; no physical description is included.

.

.

The worst thing about Jamie Tartt isn’t that he’s a prick. 

You knew he was a prick before you even met him. It was one of those fundamental facts of life, one of those things that was so intrinsically part of being a human that you didn’t need to question it. The sky is blue, two plus two equals four and Jamie Tartt is a massive prick. 

Teachers may as well add it to their lesson plans, alongside phonics and multiplication tables. 

It was the first thing you thought as you watched his over-the-top goal celebrations week after week. It rang through your head, clear as day, when he offered to buy you a drink at that ridiculous, super-trendy club your friends insisted was the best place for girls’ night.

And it was the annoying thought that stayed in the back of your mind when he had you pressed up against the wall outside the bathrooms, those bright eyes sparkling with mischief while colored lights danced across his cheekbones. 

His reputation made you feel comfortable, in a way. You could flirt with him, kiss him, let him take you home, content with the knowledge that this was what he did, that it was all in good fun and there were no feelings involved that could possibly get hurt. Jamie was an asshole, a cocky, self-absorbed pretty boy looking for a good time — and you were fine with that.

No, the worst thing about Jamie Tartt is that he isn’t always a prick. 

He was charming and funny when he flirted with you at the club, effectively distracting you from the sight of your flatmate making out with Isaac in the VIP booth next to you. He surprised you by remembering details from the stories you told, by waiting for you to nod your consent at him before he kissed you, by wordlessly draping his jacket around your shoulders to keep you warm on the short walk from the club’s back door to where his car was waiting. 

Jamie’s hand is hot on your lower back as he guides you into the house, your cheeks warm from a night of drinking and laughing and flirting.

You expect him to be all over you immediately, wanting to get to the main event right away, but instead he offers you a drink and gets back to the story he was telling you in the car about something Colin did at practice that made Roy’s face turn nearly purple with rage. You’re doing your best to follow along with the story — Jamie’s terrible Welsh accent and his impression of Roy’s gruffness would normally have you in stitches — but you’re distracted by the way he runs his fingers up and down your arm, almost absent-mindedly as he talks. 

His fingertips are leaving fireworks all over your skin, goosebumps following in their wake like your body already misses his touch. 

You let out a shuddering breath and Jamie smirks, the absolute prick. He knows exactly what he’s doing to you. “Y’alright, love?” he asks, his voice dropping down an octave and making your toes curl in your stilettos. 

“You gonna kiss me again, or what, Tartt?” you fire back, voice sounding steady despite your entire body wanting to melt into a puddle on his obnoxiously expensive kitchen floor. Jamie’s eyebrow raises and his arm wraps around your waist, tugging you closer to him before his face melts into the smuggest smile you’ve ever seen. It’s a miracle you don’t roll your eyes. 

“Yeah, babe?” he teases, lips ghosting over yours. “You that desperate for it?” 

“Jamie …” You’re attempting to tease him back but his name comes out high-pitched, like a whine, and that infuriating grin widens for a millisecond before his mouth is on yours. 

And god, he even kisses like a prick, licking into your mouth with the same confidence he has on the pitch as his fingers tighten on your waist. Jamie’s teeth nip at your lip and you let out a moan, your hand flying away from the counter that was keeping you upright in order to wrap around his neck and pull your entire body flush to his. 

Your head is spinning, sparks exploding behind your eyes and by the time Jamie pulls away to breathe you’re beginning to wonder if you had him wrong this whole time. There’s still a ghost of a smile on his lips as he drags them along your jaw, across your cheek, to suck at that spot behind your ear that makes you moan. “Thassit, yeah?” he murmurs against your neck, “That’s what you were looking for?” 

“Fuck you,” you huff out, eyelids fluttering closed as he continues to tease you. 

“Trying to, love,” Jamie responds, pulling back to cup your jaw so that you have to look him in the eye as he winks at you. His thumb caresses your skin, and for a second there, you almost forget that this is Richmond superstar Jamie Tartt — it’s just you and Jamie, the gorgeous guy who chatted you up during a night out. You’re tempted to succumb to the thought, to pretend that this is more than just a hookup and there’s the potential for something more here. 

It’s a dangerous thought. 

You tangle your fingers in Jamie’s ridiculously highlighted hair and tug his mouth back to yours, shoving any of those stupid, romantic ideas in your head aside in favor of feeling. You can indulge in what-ifs tomorrow — for now, what matters is losing yourself in this moment and letting his touch chase away anything that could distract you from this beautiful, absurd man.

A soft moan escapes from his mouth and you just kiss him deeper, pull him closer to chase that noise out once more. 

You have no idea when — or frankly even, how — Jamie managed to get you into his room with your dress on his floor, but you’re not complaining, not when he’s got that self-satisfied smile back on his face as he uses his teeth to tug your panties down. 

“You’re a fucking menace,” you say with a laugh and, oh, apparently Jamie takes that as a challenge because he stops showing off and practically tears that scrap of lace off of you before diving in between your legs like a man on a mission.

“Fuck, Jamie. Oh my god,” you moan as he works his tongue with the kind of passion he normally reserves for game days. He laps and sucks at your core and your back arches up from the bed; Jamie works a finger inside your wet heat and crooks them just right and there’s nothing left in your mind other than a litany of JamieJamieJamiefuckyesJamie.

“Shit, right there … don’t stop, please,” you babble, moaning and whimpering when Jamie begins sucking at your clit just as he adds a second finger to join the first. He flicks his tongue against that sensitive nub, pressing his fingers right into that perfect spot inside you that causes another wave of wetness to gush out of you. 

Your thighs are shaking, hips moving against his mouth and Jamie fucking Tartt is smirking as he eats you out and it’s so obnoxious but goddamn it’s so hot and you’re coming, jaw dropped open in a silent scream as your vision whites out for a second. His fingers work you through your orgasm as he coos at you, that Mancunian accent stronger than normal as he tells you how “fucking sexy you look right now, falling apart for me.” 

“What the fuck?” you pant, chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. “Oh my god …” 

“S’ good, yeah?” Jamie asks, sliding his fingers out of you before popping them in his mouth and sucking them clean. You lift your head up just enough to roll your eyes at him before flopping back down onto the bed. 

“Yes, it was fucking good, you fucking prick. That was … I’ve never — “ 

“Oh?” he cuts you off, one eyebrow raised as that cocky grin spreads across his face. His chin is shiny with your arousal and you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of complimenting him, but he clearly knows that he just blew your mind. Jamie crawls his way up your body and leans in, bumping his nose against yours as he brags, “I just like to make people happy.” 

“Shut up,” you whisper against his lips, licking into his infuriating mouth. The taste of yourself is prominent on his tongue, along with the faintest hint of the vanilla vodka he drank at the club and the smugness that has been driving you crazy all night. 

You’re waiting for the other shoe to drop, braced for the moment that Jamie goes full-on prick and selfishly puts his own pleasure above everything else.

But just like he surprised you at the bar and in his kitchen, by going down on you so enthusiastically, he surprises you by taking his time with you, drawing out two more orgasms with his fingers and his hips before his thrusts begin to get frantic and sloppy. 

“Fuck, yeah, babe, you feel so good … so tight and warm,” Jamie babbles, his face pressed against your throat, hands gripping yours on the pillow above your head. “So fucking good, been doin’ me head in, driving me insane since I first saw you.” He lets go of your hands and slides his down your body, before wrapping them around your plush thighs and pulling, bending your legs at the knees and pressing them up towards your chest. 

“Jamie, Jamie … Jesus, fuck, right there,” you whine, and he flashes a smile at you once more before he feels you clench around him with pleasure and his eyes fall shut. “So good Jamie, your cock feels so good. Pleasepleaseplease.” 

“Yeah, you want it babe? You want to feel me lose it? Want me to come for ya?” 

There’s something about hearing Jamie say such dirty things in that fucking accent that makes you feral and your head tosses back and forth on the pillow. One hand works its way back into his hair and you tug at the longer strands at the back of his head, making him keen and pound into you harder. 

“Thassit, baby, yeah,” he chants. “‘M coming, gonna come for you, fuck … fuck.” With one, two more deep thrusts, Jamie lets go, spilling into the condom as his arms give out and he flops down on top of you. You can feel your walls fluttering around him where he rests inside you and he lets out one last little whimper.

You’ve never felt more like a goddess in your life. 

Later, after he finally pulls out and disappears into his en suite to discard the condom, Jamie surprises you once more by gently cleaning you up and settling back into bed with you, chatting about the match Richmond has against Tottenham later this week. His fingers are drawing lazy patterns along your skin, lulling you into a sense of comfort as you cuddle up in his fluffy duvet.

You’re waiting for the awkward moment when you’ll have to get dressed and call an Uber before slinking out of his house in the early hours of the morning — but it never comes. Instead, the two of you talk and banter until your eyelids get too heavy to stay open and you drift off with Jamie’s arm wrapped loosely around your waist. 

When you wake up the next morning (far too early, in your opinion, but Jamie says he usually gets up at 4 to train), he makes you coffee in his obnoxiously expensive Nespresso machine. You flirt with him some more as you stumble back into your heels and wait for a car to arrive. Jamie walks you to the door in nothing but his briefs and kisses you so intensely that the driver actually tuts when you slide into the car, cheeks flushed and a smile firmly affixed to your face. 

He texts you later that day, a cheeky message asking to see you again soon with an appalling amount of emojis and as you feel your face heat up again, it finally hits you. 

The worst thing about Jamie Tartt is that you could very easily fall in love with him. 

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Pls don’t delete my story readmore

Comments/reblogs are very much appreciated!

[grogusmum]

Seven Tears part 6

SELKIE!EZRA X F!READER

WORD COUNT: 2500ish

SERIES SUMMARY: Months after being abandoned, she does something rash and summons a selkie, who wishes to bring her comfort and maybe more.

CHAPTER SUMMARY: Summer moves quickly on Roan Inish, Pearl and Cee grow close and the baby is born, but the fall brings the annulment at last, and with it there is retaliation and a choice is made.

WARNING: Olde Timey gender norms and sexism, though set in mid-20th century Ireland, and Ireland's predominantly white, Reader is physically undescribed, as are her blood relatives, her missing spouse, and his family are white, reader gives birth (not described), Cee in peril, ANGST, Colin and Jamie continue to be horrible people, Ezra is a selkie, yes, it deserves its own warning, excessive use of pet names, painful cliffhanger - its going to be okay, I promise! (as always see something say something. please let me know in my DMs if there is a warning I missed)

A/N: Welp, at 364 days since the last update- it hasn't been a literal year since the last chapter... After I finally got it down and started editing I realized why I had such a block. At least part of it anyway... This is a tough one. I understand why I kept diverting to writing side fics with sexytimes, new-fangled doodads, flashbacks of shenanigans, and so forth. While I was figuring out this chapter, and well into writing it, I spent most of the time saying to Ezra, can we just make breakfast and snuggle??? Of course, he's no help because he says yes let's. Like so many of my penultimate chapters, it's a cliffhanger and a painful one, and I am so very sorry. But I am not stopping and taking a break to do other fics. I will be writing part 7 this weekend.

Gaelic Translation (with a dash of history)

Móra dhuit ar maidin: good morning, is a twist on the traditional Dia dhuit ar maidin which means God (be) with you. Some believe this is where the infamous “Top of the Morning” Mor meaning big, Mora believed to be a “lost word”. However, it was discovered that in fact, this is one of the quite rare surviving pagan blessings. Mór was a significant goddess (note: attributes quite different to the Morrigan or Mór Ríon, even if sometimes mixed together) with many avatars. Of course, this all can be debated to the end of time, when one’s religion and language are made illegal so much is lost.

Gaeilge translation

A ghrá: love

Mo stór: Literally translating to “My treasure,” this phrase is often used to mean “my darling.”

Part 5

Series Masterlist

‘You would have to become a selkie yourself.’

Ezra stopped further conversation that night about it. “Today has been long and arduous, and not the hour for decisions of this magnitude, Moonbeam.” He had said, then unfairly distracted you as only he can.

Your time on the island was magical. You cleaned out the other cottages and your parents brought some basic furniture. The cottages were sparse but appointed with the necessaries to visit comfortably. The visits from your family and Tilda and Fergus were lovely. Because your relocation was for your safety and protection, no one knew beyond that circle. You knew you would miss your friends and cousins. But for now, you were distracted from missing them too badly because Cee came to visit, often. It was new to her, and she found it great fun. She would look at her human feet or hands and laugh with wonder, she would tell you later ‘wonder at their ridiculousness’. You noted fondly that she had a little bit of her father’s laugh.

The first time she came up out of the water you got to see the transformation firsthand. Her flippers felt for the seam under her snout, invisible to the eye. She then pulled it apart and a blonde teenager emerged. 

Blonde. You looked at Ezra, flabbergasted. To which he said-

 “There is a saying, my Pearl, all toads are frogs but not all frogs are indeed toads. Uncommon it may be, but one needs only look for the sea storm in her eyes to know.”

Cee came and went from the shoals, and Ezra reminded you not to worry, that as your belly rounded with every week that passed, he would be the worrier in the family.

Spending the morning fishing with your Da and Thomas, Ezra is gone when you wake. This is his way of thanking them as they usually have other supplies for you. Cee emerges from her bed which is curtained off in one corner of the great room, as you set out two bowls of porridge. 

“Móra dhuit ar maidin (MOR-uhg(w)itch air MA-jin), Cee”

“Móra dhuit ar ma–” Cee yawns openly, “jin. Where is me Da?” 

She, then, sniffs the oats hopefully.

“Fishing,” You tell her. “Why don' you cut some apples, dear.” 

“With hooks and a line?” Cee chuffs as she sets to the task. You can not help joining her mirth. 

You are with Cee on your own for the first time-

“You must have missed Ezr- your Da. I did not know I was keeping him from anyone- I would have encouraged him to visit. I am truly sorry, Cee.”

“‘tis the nature of things,” Cee says, mouth full of apples and oats, “besides if he were to slip back into his pelt and visit, he could not return to you for seven years. He has loved you a long time- everyone knows that!”

You are taken aback, you hardly register the sweet knowledge that she and others in his pod knew his love for you, thinking about the fact that if he goes in he can not return for seven years. Seeing her come and go, you assumed, with no small amount of relief, that bit was a myth, and you tell her so.

“Oh, I can come and go, because I am a natural-born selkie. Da was turned.”

“How was he turned?”

“Well,” Cee starts, “ehm, that is probably a story he ought tell you. Though he don' really like to tell that tale.”

By the time of Ezra return, Cee’s words were pushed out of your mind. For the pair of you had gathered seaweed and dug clams for luncheon, and you had felt your first real kick from the baby.

“Pearl! Come sit,” Ezra pulls you into the house. “You need to rest.”

Sitting you down by the fireplace, he settles on his knees, splaying a large warm hand on your lower belly, soft brown eyes on you, hoping to feel another kick. 

“How does everyone?”

“Very well, Moonbeam,” Ezra absently runs his hand over the expanse of your middle, then drops his head on your lap. “Patrick had some supplies for us as well.”

“Any news?”

“Well…”

“What, a ghrá (uh GHRAH)?”

“Colin and his brother are still ragin’. Dierdre is making progress with the annulment, tis not sitting too well, it seems.”

“Pity sake”

“He deserves none," Ezra's eyes darken and you see his selkie nature for just a moment.

On the longest day, your water breaks at 4 a.m. The gift of midsummer's day is that daylight is already breaking, and Ezra can take the currach out right away and fetch your mam. The whole of the family comes back with Ezra and waits outside the cottage as Deirdre and Felicia help you bring young Rory into the world, with Ezra attached to your side. 

When Rory's shoulder breaches its final barrier with your last mighty push, he slips like a seal into your mother’s waiting arms. 

Ezra kisses your glistening brow and with a whoop, he runs to the window to shout to kin both seal and man-

“Tis a boy! With a shock of red hair from who knows where!” To which everyone whooped and laughed hardily.

“It’s midsummer! That’d be the faeries doing!” Hugh calls.

“Someone tell that boy to hush,” Deirdre says to no one in particular, shaking her head and crossing herself. She hands off the swaddled babe to Felicia, who brings him to you. Your Mam goes to the fireplace takes up an iron poker and draws talismans into the ash, muttering about faeries, calling St. Bridget to protect the home and all dwelling within.

You, Ezra, Rory, and Cee grow more in love with every passing day. There is nothing Cee enjoys more than when Rory is in his boat cradle, being lulled in the shallows tethered to a rope you hold fast to. During his fussy times, it is the only thing that calms him. She swims round and round it, bobbing up to check on him. Ezra barks his laugh at Cee’s antics and in the evenings he holds his son close, nosing his cheek and murmuring in the old way. And of course, any chance he gets, he brings you closer to him than many would find humanly possible. Nights are spent worshipful, in one another's arms. When the babe is wakeful, Ezra brings him to you, and when Rory is fed and dozing he silently takes him back to his cradle.

Summer rushes past as it has a habit of doing and autumn comes. Plans are set for this morning to go to the mainland to sign papers for your annulment. 

“Tis finally here,” you sigh, kissing Ezra, the baby dressed and ready for a boat ride. “I’ll go to the church and get this settled at long last and meet you at the pub?”

“Agreed, mo stór (mu store)” Ezra says as he carries out a basket to the currach, he sets it in the boat and then helps you aboard, as you hold Rory. 

The tide is with you as is the wind, so your trip is uneventful and swift. Ezra kisses your cheek and takes the baby for Tilda and Fergus to see and you head up to St Bridget’s to finally wash your hands of Colin. You smile as you walk the familiar cobbled road, excited butterflies in your belly. You remember to be watchful, knowing Colin and Jamie, this day is sure to stir up a hornet's nest. All is quiet, but you start to feel as though it is too quiet.

Ezra brings Rory into the pub, head up, bursting with fatherly pride, and Tilda comes round the board, hand on her heart. She takes up the baby as she gives Ezra a peck on the cheek. 

“You may never get the wee one back,” Fergus laughs. 

“Look how big you’ve gotten!” She coos.

“He is but a weed of a thing, growing faster-” No sooner does Ezra sit to catch up with his friends, does Hugh run into the bar, holding a stitch in his side. Ezra stands, his nostrils flaring as his eyes go dark, as if the barometer just fell and he could feel a dangerous storm brewing.

“I was- I was down at the docks-” he gasps trying to catch his breath. “Cee was there, knew it was the- the big day. But Colin-” 

Ezra was on him, hands like vices on his shoulders. 

“Ezra!” Tilda commands. He let go but the huff of his breathing bristles his mustache.

“What about Colin,” Ezra’s voice is like nothing they have ever heard. Rory fusses.

“He’s got Cee in a net, started dragging her out. Da -.”

Ezra bellows. 

“Watch over Rory, Tilda. Hugh, does she know?”

“No, I came here first. Thomas has a boat- one with a motor-” 

“Good lad,” Ezra breathes and storms from the pub, Hugh following behind.

At the dock, Ezra prowles up and down, until Thomas comes into view.

“Over there!”

Ezra looks at the small vessel with an outboard motor, mildly distrustful. 

“Hugh stay at the dock and keep watch. We will get to the boa-”

“No. Go back to the island.”

“Wh-”

“I need my pelt.”

Cee twists and bites at the net, angry at herself for getting caught. Knowing this was to get to you and Ezra. Other seals surround her, trying to help.

She barks, nostrils flaring, pointing with her nose behind her. Two seals peel off and go in the direction she indicates, while one stays with Cee.

Soon enough two gray seals like torpedoes reach Ezra, flanking the port and starboard bows. Their heads come above the surface and one barks.

"Go on ahead to the island, in the hamper at the end of the big bed. Fast. Meet me back at this boat. Mind the propeller," Ezra shouts over the wind and motor.

The seals put out a burst of speed, porpoising in and out of the water. 

"What are you going to do?"

"You have to tell her," Ezra's voice breaks, eyes rimmed red. "Tell her,  I will return even if she can't bring herself to come to me. I will-"

"Ezra?"

"I promised," he wails, "I have never promised anyone anything- only she! But I can't let Cee-"

"She'll understand."

"I'm deserting her!"

"I will tell her."

"Is there anything to write with?"

Thomas rummages a bit and pulls from his pack, a small notebook with a pen tucked in its spine.

Ezra takes it and begins scribbling frantically.

Jamie’s boat speeds along, gulls scold them, and seals chase. Colin and Jamie jeer at them, determined to take their offense out on the young selkie. Heedless of the long-held taboo and the consequences that can befall entire villages, for harming a seal. Whether or not they know Cee was a selkie or a seal, they laughed in bad humor and wondered if one of them would make wife of her. They are both quite lucky Cee could not hear their base chatter. 

After chewing at the net for some time, Cee finally breaks through the net, barking a laugh of triumph. When she slips free, she rolls and tumbles with her companion in celebration. When she has had her fill, she bobs in the water watching as the craft continues east. Cee barks at the other seal and sets after the boat at top speed. Only after she chews the netting that held her captive to shreds, does she make way to the mainland. But it is not long before she is faced with her mistake. 

You arrive at the pub in good spirits, but your relaxed smile is wiped clean off at the sight of the faces within. Your face falls further seeing Tilda with Rory, and Ezra nowhere to be found.

"Where-"

For the second time today, Hugh bursts in like the devil is at his heels-

"C-cee-"

"Is she alright?" Tilda says standing.

"She is! She- she got away, but she's ragin' on the stand!"

The lot of you pour out of the pub. Fergus tosses out a lone customer and locks up behind. Hugh hastily explains what he knows, as your eyes become saucers. At the beach Cee is half out of her coat,  as she is covered with the blanket that Tilda had the forethought to bring, she seethes-

"Da went after 'em. He didn’ know I broke free on me own until after he’d done it! He's angrier than I have ever seen!"

"Are you alright? Are you hurt at all?" Your eyes search her.

"He's not mad at that- well he is bu' he's fit to be tied because-" Cee's words pull up short, she looks like she might cry. "He thought- he- put on his pelt. I- I'm sorry."

You look as though you've been struck in the face, but you rub her shoulder absently hoping she knows you do not blame her. 

"He's gone after the boat, he wi- he'll sink it," Cee finishes.

"Where's Thomas?" Asks Hugh.

"I'm here!" Thomas runs down the rocky steps, and hands you the note.

My shining Pearl,

I am loath to break my promise and beg your forgiveness.

Do I dare remind you that we spoke of you coming with me? 

Though I admit that conversation was far from over.

Do I presume to ask for this gift? 

Would you don a silken seal coat, mo ghrá? 

Would you do this for me though I hardly deserve it? 

Yours forever,

Ezra

When you finish reading, you find yourself turning a lost circle, pebbles shifting underfoot. 

"I- he-" You look down at the note again, eyes brimming with unshed tears.

"He didn't want to!" Thomas says, beside himself.

"Of course, he didn't," Dierdre soothes. 

Trembling, you rush to Tilda grasping her hands. Blinded by the tears that refuse to fall, you don't see what everyone else can see plain, she knows your question and hates the answer.

"The Maiden and the Seal-lord! She- she was able to take her grandmother's pelt! You have one from yours, yes? Please yes!"

The waves crash, as though very ocean can not abide your tears.

"Darlin, my seal gran has too many greats in front of it to tell us, even if I could dig it up and give it to you," Tilda holds your panicked face in her worn hands. " Which I would, I most surely would. But it would not transform you- for no matter how close I hold you as kin, you must be a blood relation. Your way… if you wish it, it will be harder." 

Your wail breaks her heart, gulls echo your cry. 

You take Rory in your arms, the note crushed in your hand, and climb Widow’s Rock.

"Ez-ra!" 

Deirdre sends everyone back to the house and carefully climbs the rock. She wraps her arms around you and Rory. 

"For right or wrong, God forgive him. He will sink that boat and come back to you, even if he can't take off his coat."

You nod in response, eyes on the open water-

"I need to talk to Cee.”

Part 7

💚THANK YOU FOR READING💚REBLOGS AND COMMENTS ARE MUCH APPRECIATED💚

If you care to read more of my stories you can find my masterlist here and if you would like to be tagged for any of my fics you can find my handy dandy taglist form here.

[mrsclearwaters]

Paul Lahote x Emmett Cullen imprinting fic

Paul imprints on Emmett at a meeting and tries to fight it.

Some angst, fluff

3,068 words

(I originally uploaded this like a month ago on another account that I’ve had for years. It was my first ever post but I’m stupid and the email I used for that account was from when I was 13 and I don’t have access too it so now I’m logged out permanently which is kinda heartbreaking. Luckily I still have the story in my drafts so I’m reposting).

Paul was unable to make it to the treaty meeting after Jacobs imprint and didn't witness Seth and Leah's imprints but he was less than pleased when he saw it replayed in the shifters minds.

He likes to think he could've stopped this madness, not the imprints but at least the treaty mishap, if he was there.

The leeches claimed 3 of his friends, his family, and it pisses him off to no end. He knows he can't blame his pack mates for their imprints but he can sure as hell blame the vampires for choosing Forks, for meeting the pack, for everything that led to this moment.

Sam decided to make them come to this meeting in their human forms, something he'd argued against for hours but eventually had to give in to his Alphas decision.

Seth, Leah and Jacob seem to have warmed up to their imprints, Leah more reluctantly than the others and as much as it infuriates him, he can't exactly expect them to deny their fated mates.

This meeting is to discuss fighting techniques for future issues that both may encounter and he reluctantly follows Sam and Jacobs trucks on his bike, with Seth clinging onto him as he drives and the others riding with the Alphas.

When he finally pulls up and Seth runs towards his imprint before he fully stops, he groans at the inevitable torture.

Leah and Jacob stay put on either side of Sam but they aren't as tense as Paul in front of the vampires.

"Hello Carlisle," Sam addresses their leader who smiles and greets him back.

"I'm glad you're open to building trust with us." Sam nods,

"It'd be best for the future of both of us. You said we we're going through fight techniques?"

"Yes, Jasper is a trained general, he knows how to fight vampires, specifically newborns who would be a great threat should we ever come across them. It would be a useful tool to learn."

"Okay so let's do that." Carlisle nods and Jasper steps forward, he goes into an explanation and then a demonstration with all of the Cullens.

Paul thinks this is a pointless exercise, they know how to fight, and vampires are their natural enemies, they don't need tips.

He watches Sam go against Quil, Embry against Colin, Rosalie against Jared and Alice against Seth until Jaspers eyes land on him.

He rolls his eyes and steps forward, cracking his knuckles.

"Who am I fighting?"

"I think Emmett should be a good fit against you." He learns that Emmett is the brute when he steps forward with a shit eating grin but his eyes shift when they land on him.

Edwards eyes widen and he looks at him confused, the mind reader just shakes his head as if to tell him to wait.

He shakes it off but he feels them eyes stay on him as he goes behind a tree and shifts before coming back to face his opponent.

When he does he regrets everything. He should have skipped this meeting too, because the universe clearly hates him.

His imprint, his whole world, his sole purpose for living, is a fucking leech. That must have been the reason for the shift in the brutes eyes, he'd mated and when Paul shifted so did he.

The shifters who'd already had their matches started exclaiming their shock in his mind until Sam silenced them all.

'Oh my god! Paul, you too man?!' Jared, he didn't fucking ask for this.

'This is so good!' Seth, and he rolls his eyes because this is anything but good.

'Maybe this is a good thing,' Colin, he appreciates the effort but he wants to fucking scream at the thought of this.

'Come on Paul, he's your soulmate, there's clearly a reason for this.' Embry, yeah and the reason is that the universe has it out for him.

'I still don't get how this shit is possible,' Quil, the voice of fucking reason.

'Everyone Quiet!' Sam, now he's going to get a lecture about accepting this and not breaking both of their hearts or some shit.

'Paul-'

'I don't wanna hear it Sam.'

'I won't lecture you. Just talk to him before you do anything you'll regret.' Too late.

As soon as his imprint steps forward, he moves back and then before he knows it he's running.

He hears the pack shouting for him, and Jacob telling his imprint to, "give him time," but he doesn't dwell on any of it.

He's outside his house and he's unshifted. He thinks about it for a moment and decides he'd rather not face his parents right now, he's too out of it too make anything up.

So he does the next best thing, and climbs in through his bedroom window.

The only thing he can think to do is sleep, he doesn't want to think about what just happened and what it means.

He's fated to a leech, what a fucking nightmare.

When he wakes up his head is throbbing and he knows it's not normal but he ignores it and goes out for his usual run, pushing through the pain and ignoring the occasional tug from the new link in his mind.

Every day that goes by with him ignoring the imprint, the pain gets worse but he forces himself to push through it.

His heart feels like it's being ripped apart every time he thinks about Emmett's face when he ran away but all he can do is push it to the back of his mind and ignore it.

On day 5, Sam asks him to do patrol, he's avoided shifting for this long knowing how much worse it will get when his wolf has control. He's been pushing his wolf down for so long and it's been fighting back, pushing him towards Emmett.

When he finally shifts with Quil and lets Jared end his patrol he feel's everything tenfold. The pain from Emmett is mixed with a hunger he's never felt before and he realises his mate hasn't been feeding.

'Ffs, I need to hunt for him now.'

'Mate, you should just speak to him. Clearly it's affecting you. You can barely function.'

'I'm fine. Quil, you need to give this to him. I can't be near him.'

'You can't trust yourself with him?' Quil laughs and he gives him a deadpan look knowing how weird it looks in his wolf form.

'Alright, I'll do it.' He rolls his eyes and begins his search for prey.

He comes across a deer and slowly sneaks up on it, attacking the jugular and making sure it's dead before dropping it in front of Quil who grabs it and runs towards the Cullens house.

He watches through the pack mind as Quil comes to a stop in front of the mansion and a confused Carlisle opens the door.

"Quil, right?" He nods and Carlisle smiles still confused before Edward joins him and reads his mind.

"Paul knows Emmett hasn't been feeding, he sent Quil to give him the deer. He hunted it himself."

Emmett steps onto his balcony as soon as he hears his mates name and jumps down in front of the wolf who drops the food in front of the vampire.

"Thank you." They all know it's aimed at Paul and he practically swoons at the small smile sent his way.

'You're already sappy for him bro.' Quil laughs.

'Shut the fuck up.' He watches Edward laugh a bit at the conversation and tells him to fuck off too.

Quil nods at them all before leaving and making his way back.

Slowly the hunger Paul could feel through the link dissipates and the pain that has been lingering for days also dulls slightly.

He repeats Emmett's smile in his head through his whole patrol and Quil practically runs home when they're done, glad to be done with his pining.

'Just talk to him man,' he hears before the pack mind is empty. He rolls his eyes and unshifts himself to go back to his usual routine, sleep, eat, and then sleep some more.

Sleep is the only thing that dissipates the pain, heartbreak and throbbing head alike.

But at the 2 week mark his mind is playing with him, his days consist of staying in bed, his parents and the pack forcing him to eat, he can't shake the squeezing of his heart and the feeling that his very being and soul is hurting, his dreamless nights have turned into a nightmare.

Emmett being chased by some random vampire, she's right on his tale until she starts jumping through trees in the preserve and then finally lands on him and rips his head off.

He wakes up screaming and sweating when it happens. Sam comes running in with the rest of the pack in tow, they were discussing what to do about Paul's imprint when they heard his cries.

"Paul! Paul, what's happened. Calm down, tell me what happened."

"Em-Emmett. He died- ahhhh." He thrashes and screams at the pain that fills his whole body now, his heart is breaking, the guilt of not being there, of not saving him is overwhelming.

He hears muffled talking and shouts until Jacob and Leah are in front of him, "Paul, he's okay. He's alive. We just saw him."

He looks up at them, trying to find out if there's any truth in their words, and he finally feels the link in his mind still exists. His heart rate picks up in relief and he lets out a sob.

"Paul, please. It's killing you. Just go see him." Sam begs and he looks at the alpha.

"He's not doing well either." Seth starts, the look Jacob and Leah share with him doesn't go unnoticed.

"He's been begging us not to tell you, to let you figure it out on your own. But you haven't shifted, so you haven't seen it. When you told Quil to give him that deer because you felt the hunger when you shifted. It's the last thing he let himself eat because you got it."

"He's been getting worse, like he's punishing himself for not being good enough for you. He won't leave his room, he shouldn't get sick but he looks paler every time we see him, like he's disappearing before our eyes." Jacob adds and he reels in anger, shock, and guilt.

He knew ignoring his imprint would hurt him, he didn't know that mates worked the same way, he thought Emmett would be okay without him. Albeit hurt but okay nonetheless.

"What the fuck?! Why hasn't he been feeding? Why does he think he's not fucking good enough?!" Before the pack can say anything else he storms out and shifts.

He pauses when it hits him, agony. He feels like he hasn't eaten in months, the link between them that's stronger when shifted is weak, he can barely feel him.

His wolf cries out and he runs as fast as he can towards the Cullen house.

When voices pop into his head one by one he ignores them and pushes through, finally reaching the mansion.

He shifts back, pulling his shorts on and speeding to the front door, where Alice opens it with a sympathetic smile.

He doesn't deserve that, he's pissed at himself more than anything. He could take the pain, but how dare he cause his mate the same fate.

"Where is he?" She points to the stairs and he rushes past her, the rest of the Cullens scattered across the living and the pack piling into the house behind him.

"It's the second room on the left," she says to him as he goes and he mutters a small thanks as he runs up.

He barges into the room, and the sight he's met with makes him want to throw up.

Emmett quickly stands from his bed and smiles softly, "Paul." He looks so pale, even for a vampire this doesn't seem natural, his eyes are bloodshot, there'd be tear tracks down his cheeks if he could cry.

Paul rushes forward and shoves him into the wall next to the balcony,

"Why haven't you been feeding?!" Emmett looks confused and shakes his head,

"How could I? I don't deserve to feed. I'm a leech remember, you could never love me." Paul reels in shock, his grip loosens and he feels a lump in the back of his throat.

"You- you're."

"Im sorry you had to come here Paul. You can leave if you want." He knows neither of them want that. He can see in Emmett's eyes that he's hurting at even the idea.

He doesn't know what to say so he does the next best thing, he holds out his arm. Emmett looks even more confused now, eyebrows knitted together, it's kind of cute.

He shakes the thought out of his head, right now he needs to help his mate, and his blood should bring back his strength faster than anything else.

"Eat." He demands and Emmett's eyes widen. "I- I can't. I haven't fed, I don't think I could stop myself."

"I'm willing to take that risk... and.. I trust you." Emmett shakes his head,

"I'll hurt you. I can't."

"Emmett, you're weak, this is the only way to bring your strength back. I'm your mate, I know you won't hurt me."

Emmett looks at him, his eyes conflicted and he brings his arm too his own mouth, using his sharp wolf teeth to penetrate the skin, hissing a bit, before pushing his arm closer to Emmett's mouth,

"Eat." He says again and finally he gives in, gently holding his arm and bringing it to his mouth. He hesitates for a second before licking the dripping blood and then allowing himself to continue.

It doesn't hurt the way Paul thought it would, it's like the more his mate drinks, the more satisfied he feels. When Emmett finally feels the liquid he worries for a second that he won't stop. It's better than anything he's ever tasted, and he knows it's because it's Paul. But he also knows he could never hurt him and allows himself to enjoy it for a moment.

Paul feels weak, not from his blood being drained but from the feeling of giving his mate strength. It's overwhelmingly good.

He rests his head on Emmett's shoulder and feels the vampire pause, "it's okay, keep going." He says it in the softest tone and he doesn't think he's ever heard himself use that tone with anyone.

When Paul actually starts to feel lightheaded he lets Emmett keep going for a few seconds before he stops him.

"Emmett.. that's enough." He thinks the vampire can't hear him for a second but then he feels the fangs retract and Emmett licks the wound to clean it up.

When they look at each other they realise what just happened, Paul can't help the blush that spreads across his cheeks. He'd ignored it for so long and when he finally gave in it was so intimate that it was overwhelming.

"I'm sorry I caused you pain," he whispers and Emmett just smiles at him,

"You don't understand how long I've wanted this."

"I think I do." Paul can't help but steal a look at his imprints lips before looking back into his eyes.

"You're the most stubborn man I've ever met you know." Emmett says. He laughs a bit and nods.

They're so close that their breaths are mingled and Paul can't help it anymore, he leans in and closes the gap, catching Emmett's gasp and deepening the kiss.

When they pull away so Paul can catch his breath their lips are bruised and Emmett is beaming at him.

Paul feels even more lightheaded after that and stumbles the tiniest bit, but Emmett catches on and helps steady him, moving them towards the bed.

"Did I go too far," he panics and Paul shakes his head, "no, I'm fine. It's fine." He whispers softly.

"Do you want to sleep?" The thought of climbing into his imprints bed and being surrounded by that smell is so tempting. He nods and moves to get under the covers.

When Emmett sits on the chair next to the bed he looks at him confused and the vampire looks back with a similar look.

"Why are you over there?" The vampire grins cheekily, "you want me to lay with you?"

The growing smirk makes him blush and he rolls his eyes indignantly, shaking his head.

"Nah, I'll just sleep on my own." He turns to his side and hears a laugh that makes his heart race.

"Paul?" He ignores it, "pauul," and he shakes his head.

It's silent for a second but then he hears ruffling and their's a breath on his neck, "Alright, I'll lay here with you." The hairs on his neck rise and he turns around quickly. His breath hitches at how close they are again.

"I didn't think you'd want me too." Emmett tells him honestly.

"I just let you drink my blood. I think sharing a bed is a small step compared to that." He whispers back and Emmett laughs a bit.

"That was a hell of a way to start wasn't it?" And Paul just nods in agreement, closing his eyes.

"Does this mean you've accepted me?" Emmett asks after a few moments of silence. Paul peeks an eye open to see if he's being serious and when he realises he is he looks at him incredulously.

"Okay, okay. You have. I was just making sure you won't leave again." Paul feels a pang of guilt hit him again when he realises how much he's hurt his imprint and shakes his head.

"I'm sorry. I should have come sooner." He whispers and Emmett smiles softly, "I understand." Paul shakes his head, "no, I won't ever forgive myself for putting you through that." Emmett rolls his eyes now, "you put yourself through it too. You're just stubborn." Before Paul can speak, Emmett kisses him softly.

"Sleep," Emmett tells him when they pull away and he sighs but obliges, closing his eyes and falling asleep comfortably for the first time in weeks.

[potter-head-phanatic]

Upcoming Fics!

Hey everyone, I just wanted to share a list of fics that I have been working on, in order! Sorry I havent really been active recently but I am done school for the summer so I will be writing a lot more for the next 3 and a half months! Particularly about Bridgerton because season 3 part 1 has me in my feels 😭

Masterlist Bridgerton siblings x fem!Bridgerton Type of fic: One Shot Request: 8 times y/n was there for her siblings and the time they were there for her Requested by: me Ambrose Spellman x reader Type of fic: Song fic (Hurricane Drunk by Florence + The Machine) Request: Reader and Ambrose were together a long time ago. He fell out with her over something, idk over what? She still loves him all these years later. They're at the Spellman house as there's a party to celebrate the end of Ambrose's House imprisonment. Reader finds it hard to watch him dancing with someone else and being affectionate with them Requested by: Anon Jane Volturi x Autistic!Fem!Reader Type of fic: Headcannon Request: just jane and an autistic fem reader were they like jump and clap when happy and will refuse to wear velvet and talks about harry potter 24/7 because its there special interest Requested by: @bigirl49 Billy Marlin x Reader Type of fic: One Shot Request: they plot would be like i'm a witch and Billy liked it bc he see me in the mortal school whit Sabrina Requested by: Anon Colin Bridgerton x Fem!Reader Type of fic: One Shot Request: perhaps colin becomes obsessed with a girl who is lower class or not in society, but she doesn’t really want to get married. her parents are very forceful (it’s a chance for them to all finally have money) along with colin, as he will not take no for an answer and only wants reader. you can make it as dark as you’re comfortable with! i’d love to see colin forcing her to start a family with him and maybe she grows to love him after all. thank you & feel free to change any details! Requested by: @flowercrowns-goodvibes Paul Lahote x Fem!Human!Reader Type of fic: Song fic (Average Girl by Emily Osment) Request: Before Paul phased for the first time, he was in a long term relationship with you. Things were going great, until they weren't. He cheats on you, feeling like he wasn't good enough for you and that he would ruin you, wanting you to be away from him, until he imprints on you Requested by: me Emmett Cullen x Fem!Lahote!Reader Type of fic: One Shot Request: Y/N, the sister of resident hot head Paul Lahote finally convinces him to let her train with them to get ready to fight the new born army. Little did she know, she was going to learn more than just battle strategies. Requested by: me

[siriuslygay1981]

Introduction post!!

🎉✨⭐💫🌛🌞

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You can call me Star/Basra/Bea, I go by them all :).

They/them! And he/she sparingly

Queer(not really labeled.) Poly!

I like cosmology/astronomy, writing, music and reading! I'm a writer, an artist, I love learning new things and I am always looking for friends! I have too many hobbies to list but I'm open to discussing them more if asked!

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Things I'll post Abt/Fandoms I'm in:

Marauders era, Harry Potter, Stranger things, Good omens,Marvel, DC (specifically batman-robin-redhood stuff),Anime, Artrick, dune, that 70s show, Dexter, Bojack hm, twd, Alice in borderland, killing Eve, lupin, and Cobra Kai. Writing and in general probably random rants about whatever thing I've watched/read recently. I will reblog the most random post that I relate to or just want to reblog too ofc. I might post art sometimes ! My writing too ofc!!

Fav Characters; Johnny Lawrence, Miguel Diaz, regulus black, James Potter, Peter parker, Wade Wilson (dp), iron man, black widow, Robin Buckley, Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Paul atreudies, hawk/Eli, Jason Todd, Tim drake, dick Grayson, Damian Wayne, Alfred, Evan rosier, 10th Dr, art donaldson, tashi Duncan, izuku midoriya, bakugou katsuki, denki kaminari, Ken kaneki, oikawa tooru, Satori tendou, Harley Quinn, blaise zambini, Sirius black, Bellatrix black, narcissa black, lily Evans, marlene McKinnon, remus lupin, grover, matt murdock, jumin han, 707, Eric forman, Steven hyde, Donna pinciotti, Clarke griffin, Octavia Blake, finn the human,Lexi grey, Penelope featherington, Colin BRIDGERTON, Benedict bridgerton, Kate BRIDGERTON, Daphne BRIDGERTON, Eloise BRIDGERTON, Oliver marks, James Farrow, Neil josten, Andrew minyard, Neil perry, raven, beast boy, mon-el, (Names every character ever)

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Boundaries-

No:

hate comments

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Reply/ask questions

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Mutuals only:

Asking for socials

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My spotify-

My ao3-

I give permission to use any idea I've written/talked about as long as it's credited and I'm tagged (I'd love to see it :) ) Unless I've mentioned otherwise

Beta reader applications are open! If you wish to be a beta reader for any WIP (published or not) let me know!

My Pfp- cuckooboo_ on Instagram!

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Request info-

I won't do inc3st, I won't do illegal, I won't force myself to write what I don't vibe with and I'll tell you that.

I'll do NSfw, I'll do any ship, any scenario! I might even do x reader. I'll link my stories from my Tumblr on my pinned post too. You can request in Asks or messages.

I'll be posting my own stuff that I want to post until someone asks for SMTHN specific!

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Black brothers angst- Angsty, sad, Regulus' hopes and dreams squashed.

Regulus Dying- Regulus' last moments

Dorlene word prompt- Dorcas being a simp

Rosekiller quote prompt- Silly little guys, short interaction.

Jegulus- Fluff mostly. Right before Regulus leaves for the cave.

Rosekiller quote prompt thing - Miscommunication, slight angst

Wolfstar Short - Small crack one shot

PANDALILY domestic - Lily's pov of her day to day with Pandora

Rosekiller prompt Part 2 - slight angst, comfort, hea

Rosekiller mircrofic- Word prompt, may 24th. Word:Favorite

JEGULUS mircrofic- Microfic based off of a fanart!

[fangirlinginspace]

Fluffy Alphabet A-K

Colin Robinson

Colin Robinson x (human)reader

template by @queervibesmydude

I'm absolutely smitten with this adorkable guy. Since there is not much online (yet) for my favorite engery vampire I wanted to contribute something myself. Hope you enjoy.

A = Admiration (what do they absolutely adore about you?)

He still can't believe that you actually enjoy listening to him. That hasn't happened before.

He likes to have long conversations with you. And he loves that you have special interests just like him, you guys can share your knowledge with eachother and talk for hours.

B = Body (what is their favorite part of your body?)

This might sound cliché but he loves your eyes. You always get that gleam in your eyes when he talks to you...he could look at you for hours.

C = Cuddling (how do they like to cuddle?)

Honestly, bevor meeting you he never had the urge to engage in physical contact. Even when he dated bevor he always kept his distance. But with you things changed.

After a long day of work he loves to lay in bed next to you and tell eachother about your day. Your head is on his chest while you caress it sofly, he holds you in his arm while he takes in your scent. It's his favorite routine of the day.

D = Dates (what does their ideal date with you look like?)

He would take you for a walk in the park. Feed the ducks and tell you facts about the local flora. Afterwards he would make you a good cup of tea (he is a tea coniseure of sorts) and cuddle on the couch with you.

E = Emotions (how do they express emotion around you?)

He is not used to someone actually listening and caring for him when he talks about how he feels. So having you in his life who responses to his emotions so strongly and willingly is still very new to him.

When it comes to his feelings towards you he gets very shy and doesn't know what to say. It's all still so new to him and he doesn't want to spook you away

F = Family (do they want one? If they do, when?)

Well with him being a vampire that's out of the picture.

G = Gifts (how do they feel about gift giving? What are their habits when it comes to this?)

Oh he loves giving gifts! That's definetly his love language. He is very observant and puts a lot of thought into what to give to you.

H = Holding Hands (when/how do they like to hold hands?)

PDA is a new concept for him. He likes to give you warm smiles in public or a quick tuck at your arm.

You had to initiate holding hands with him in public. You went on one of your walks through the park, it was a beautiful but cold day in January. His hand looked so warm an inviting so you just took it in your smaller one. He was startled by your action but actually loved it.

Nowaday you always hold hands when you are on a walk together.

I = Injury (how would they act if you got hurt?)

If you would get injured his first instinct would be to panic and freeze in shock. But sonn after he would care for you and make sure you are fine.

His biggest fear is something happening to you.

J = Jokes (do they like to joke around with or prank you? how?)

He is the master of dad jokes and reference humor. But nobody seemed to like his jokes until you came along.

K = Kisses (how do they like to kiss you?)

He’s got a few different kissing styles; soft kisses are usually the road he takes, especially at times where he’s shy and other times where he just needs soft touches and to be told he’s okay and that you love him.

If the timing is right he also loves to indulge in passion and share heated kisses with you. As awkward as his passionate kisses may be they leave you wanting more.

[tomriddlehyperfixataion]

The summer of 1942 - Tom Riddle x reader p3

cross posted on Ao3

summary- Tom wakes up to his 2nd day at the Prothero home, and learns of a particular animal he's very interested in.

=

Once again Tom woke up to the sound of chaos-though thankfully, this time there was no banging on the bathroom door and yelling right outside his door. Tom sighed, not in the mood for human interaction right now, and pulled his blanket over his head-blocking out the noise, but only slightly.

Being so used to the chaos of his roommates back at Hogwarts-Tom easily went back to sleep and woke up around 6 am, when he usually woke up. With a groan Tom sat up, cracking his back as he did so.

It was quiet now, and Tom knew everyone was out working at the shelter at farmhouse. So Tom got up and got changed, combing his hair into its usual style and going downstairs, making himself some breakfast with the ingredients Mrs. Prothero left out for him.

Tom looked out the dining room window-seeing Prothero walking about the field, a horde of dogs following her around, a rope lead in one of her hands. Tom snorted as one of the dogs leaped up and muzzle punched her, Prothero’s hands shooting up to cover her face-and Tom could see some of those teens from yesterday laughing at her, only to scream and run when she turned on them-the dogs barking loudly and chasing after them.

He supposed that was why Mr. Prothero told her to be nice to him, because she bullied their workers.

Tom made himself a cup of coffee(of course with seven sugars and cream, once again taking a plain sugar cube and popping it in his mouth) and went back up to his room, getting more of his summer work done and getting another book out when he finished that.

Around noon-Tom had finished all his summer work-which wasn’t new, he had always finished it quickly-having nothing else to do at the orphanage, and he couldn’t find anything interesting in his Hogwarts history books, so he put those away and went back downstairs, looking at the clock as he saw the horde in the dining room and hanging out on the porch, all eating their lunches.

“Afternoon Tom, good day so far?” Mr. Prothero asked, drinking a tonic water, Tom nodded, holding a book in his elbow-glancing around the room-seeing some of the muggle horde looking back.

“yes, so far.” Tom said, setting his book down and making himself some lunch-a simple sandwich-but it would tie him over till supper. “who’s the bean pole?” Tom turned at the sudden voice, seeing one of the young adults of the horde with dark red curly hair and freckles all over, tall and built-a side smirk on his face aimed at Tom.

“Justin, be nice,” Mr. Prothero sighed, shaking his head. “this is Tom, he goes to school with (y/n), and we’re hosting him until further notice. I’m sure you know of the London child evacuation?” Justin, still smirking, nodded, a few of the boys next to him looking quite mischievous.

Tom sighed through his nose, and here he thought he left his bullies behind at the orphanage, but those types of boys existed everywhere he supposed.

“And you call me a bully,” Prothero muttered as she stepped into the house-sneakily kicking Justin’s thigh, sticking her tongue out at him as Justin tried to trip her.

“Because you are!” Colin said from the table, a mouth full of bread. Prothero just glared at him, and when Mr. Prothero’s back was turned-she threw a towel at him-Colin only gasped and tattled on her to Mr. Prothero. “See! She hit me!” “I threw a towel at you, you twerp!” Prothero groaned, clicking her jaw as Mr. Prothero just took a deep breath, pinching his nose. “if I hit you-you would be crying!” With another sigh from Mr. Prothero, Prothero scrunched her nose at Colin and stepped back-returning to her mission of getting lunch.

Colin stuck his tongue out at her back, and was met with another towel chucked at his face. “I swear she has eyes on the back of her head,” Colin grumbled, tossing the towel down and crossing his arms, his plate clean.

Tom was greatly amused, and a little relieved. The attention was off him and on Prothero, and now she was snarking at Justin and some of the other boys, the girls of the horde already finishing their food and going to relax outside-enjoying the sunshine while on their break.

“Oh like you aren’t terrified of Viper,” Prothero laughed, leaning back on the counter-Tom only now realizing the matching shirts they all wore, all blue(varying shades, either dye or worn out) with a symbol on the left side of the chest. Tom didn’t ask what for-he guessed they were shelter shirts. Pretty much every boy sneered back or cringed at the mention of ‘Viper’, many going into the defense that ‘she’ was scary and aggressive.

“Yeah, she just doesn’t like any of you,” Prothero said, crossing her arms triumphantly. “she’s not that way with me, have you even tried gaining her trust?” Prothero asked, laughing as the boys just huffed. Clearly not.

“Who is Viper?” Tom asked, the attention once again on him-but he ignored the eyes, mostly looking at Prothero, who nodded towards the shelter. “A snake, a reticulated python to be exact, she was rescued from an illegal trade route a good while back-pretty agressive, but she likes me-dunno why, but she does,” Prothero explained, her chest puffing with pride at having the affections of an aggressive snake.

The boys rolled their eyes, one of them whispering that Viper only liked (y/n) because they were both aggressive and willing to bite. Prothero heard that and grinned sharply-cackling as that boy jumped back.

He was seeing why some of his classmates at school called her weird.

But he was very interested In the snake, a reticulated python! He had read about those time and time again-they could get to be huge, and while they weren’t venomous-they were just as dangerous as any venomous snake. They killed their prey by curling around them and suffocating them. Tom wanted to meet this Viper; she sounded amazing.

Now, if one were less awkward than Tom, they would ask to meet the snake, but Tom-not much for human interaction(no matter how charming he was to his teachers during the school years) stayed quiet, planning to meet the reptile after the lights went out.

A few hours after Tom was sure everyone was asleep, snuck out-carefully going through the house until he was outside-thankful nothing had creaked too loudly.

He went out into the field-quietly shuffling through the shelter building until he happened upon the reptile room. It was separate from the rest of the building, one wall had several large glass tanks, and the other wall had a large room-like tank, where Viper was kept; According to the label by the bottom of the cage.

Tom stepped further into the room-his eyes locked onto the large tank, it was a big tank, perfect for such a large snake. Tom could compare it to his room back at the house, decorated with tree branches, foliage, and a big water hole in the corner of the tank.

Tom’s breath escaped him as a snake rose it’s head from the green, it was a shimmering black that reflected like a rainbow in the moonlight that shone through the window. “Hello,” Tom said in parseltongue, and the snake drew up further-its beady eyes almost sparkling.

“A sssspeaker,” Viper said, her voice muffled through the glass, slowly moving towards Tom, and Tom stepped closer, pressing his hands to the glass. “and what bringsssss you here, hatcchling?”

Tom swallowed, not sure how to explain it. “A war broke out upon my homeland, I wassss sssent here for sssafe keeping.” Viper nodded, turning her head curiously.

“you will be sssafe here, the family that keepsss me is niccce, esssspecccially the hatcchling, (y/n) they call her.”

Tom just hummed, the mudblood had truly gained the fondness of Viper then-he hadn’t doubted it but to hear it from Viper had only confirmed it. “you hold her differently than I?” Viper said, sensing Tom’s lack of ‘affection’ towards Prothero.

Tom had nothing against her personally, her being a mudblood was really all Tom had to pull, she was nice enough-though Tom thought she was plenty easy to rile up. “I don’t know her,” was all Tom said instead of spewing the thoughts he had been taught by his ‘friends’ back at school.

He knew well enough to not speak those words, even if he thought they were true. He wasn’t stupid like Malfoy or Black, spouting about blood purity and mudbloods at the drop of a hat. Tom was smart, and if he wanted to have a comfortable summer and a promising future-he would keep his trap shut, even if his thoughts said something different.

Viper gave him a look-as if knowing something deeper and nodded. “very well, now go back to sssleep, it’sss far too late for a hatchling like you, ssskin and bonesss you are.” Tom flushed a bit from being mothered by the large snake, but nodded, bidding Viper goodnight and going back to the house, sneaking back upstairs and going to bed.

What an interesting summer this was going to be(this was thought sarcastically, but Tom had no idea what he was in for.)

-

Tom didn’t know what he did(probably said something at the wrong time, he did that sometimes), but he and Prothero were fighting now. Spats really, childish spats that kept Tom entertained-but infuriated him at the same time.

“Would you stop slouching,” Tom grumbled one day at supper, Prothero sitting next to him, leaning over her food as she ate. She swallowed the mouthful she had and turned to Tom, smiling sweetly. “Riddle, do you think you’re my mum or something?” Tom made a face-clearly meant to say no, and Prothero got in his face, scrunching her nose as she bared her teeth. “Then stop bossing me around.”

She slouched again, and Mr. and Mrs. Prothero laughed at her actions and words. “She certainly has a mind of her own,” Mr. Prothero said fondly and Tom huffed, rolling his eyes and pushing around some peas on his plate. “Yeah, hate that in a woman,” Tom grumbled, and out of the corner of his eye-he saw Prothero stick her tongue out at him and Tom whipped around-glaring at her.

And to think he thought she was nice; she was a horrid beast-she definitely belonged in Slytherin-unlike Malfoys certainty that any mudbloods belonged in Gryffindor or Hufflepuff-far away from the grand house of Slytherin.

Tom eventually sighed, finishing his supper and cleaning up-gathering his plate and empty cup and putting them in the sink-starting to wash them as the Prothero’s also finished their food.

Behind him-he heard Mr. Prothero mutter something to Prothero and she grumbled, saying he(Tom) was a prat. But with another huff from Mr. Prothero, Prothero groaned and wandered over, sitting on the countertop next to Tom.

He glanced at her once, and continued doing the dishes.

“Look, I think we got off on the wrong foot.” Prothero said and Tom nodded, agreeing but this was truly a good opportunity to rile up Prothero further. “I think we did too,” Tom said, placing the last plate on the dish rack and drying his hands, leaning back against the counter. Prothero nodded, glad to see they had come to a bridge of agreement. “but I appreciate your apology,” Tom said, hiding his grin as Prothero shook her head, as if offended by his choice of words, which she was.

“Apology?” Prothero coughed, furrowing her brows. “Who said anything about an apology, I was just trying to say that we-“ Tom quickly interrupted her, throwing down the towel he had been using to dry his hands and crossing his arms. “Please-don’t talk anymore, it’s only going to upset me~” Tom said with a jeering grin, chuckling mentally as Prothero huffed, scrunching her nose again.

“Fine-I’ll be quiet, I’ll be quiet if you will.” Prothero said and Tom nodded, crossing one leg over the other-shrugging a bit. “All right, I’ll be quiet.” Prothero huffed, nodding back. “Fine.” She agreed and Tom smirked-seeing another opportunity to rile her up. “fine,” Tom said back, holding back his laughter as Prothero glared and mocked his mocking. “fine!”

Tom had the last word-with one final ‘fine’ Prothero huffed, looking away from him, and Tom turned his attention to the room. it had been about five days since his arrival now, and he had finished all his school work-nearly read all his books, had explored some of the field, gone into the reptile house twice now, and now was having a spat with Prothero.

Oh, how fun this summer was turning out to be, and it was only the 5th day.

“You think you’re gonna miss it?” Prothero asked suddenly and Tom rolled his eyes, turning back on her. “Miss what, your talking?” he jeered and Prothero huffed, rolling her eyes at his taunt. “No! London?”

Tom quieted, shaking his head. “Nope.” he muttered, looking down at his hands. Prothero frowned, seemingly more interested in the conversation than she was before. “But it was your home?”

“It was a place I once lived, end of story,” Tom muttered, not wanting to talk about the orphanage or London. He had never been welcomed or liked there-more often than not called the devil's child for his odd eyes and even odder abilities.

Prothero just hummed, tilting her head. “Hogwarts then? You seem comfortable there, is that what you call your home?” Tom huffed, turning on Prothero with a scrunched nose. “Why are you so-pushy? Why must you know what my feelings are for places I’ve lived?”

Prothero threw up her hands, puffing her cheeks. “Well, I’m sorry! We’re going to be living together for two months, forgive me if I don’t want it to be awkward the entire time! Sorry for assuming you were more than just a stubborn prat!” Tom just copied her movements, throwing up his hands and stepping away, running into Mr. Prothero, who rose his brow-having heard their spat.

“Ah-thank goodness,” Tom breathed, pointing at Prothero and side-eyeing her-she had her arms crossed and was mocking him-angering Tom further. “please remove her from my sight!” Mr. Prothero sighed, giving Prothero a look. “What did you do to him?” Mr. Prothero asked and Prothero gasped in offense, gesturing towards Tom. “Me?! It’s him!”

Tom let out a huff from the back of his throat-throwing up his hands. He was done with this-muggle mess, and stormed up to his room, slamming the door.

Mr. Prothero chuckled, watching as his daughter rolled her eyes and jumped off the counter, kicking one of the cabinet doors. “Ah~ an unspoken attraction?” Mr. Prothero teased, Mrs. Prothero laughing quietly as she walked in, two empty wine glasses in hand.

“Attraction?! To that skinny little prat!?” (y/n) yelled, glaring at her dad, crossing her arms as her parents laughed gently, only teasing their daughter. “Have you lost your minds?!” (y/n) followed Tom’s lead and stormed out, only instead of going to her room, she went to the shelter and hung out with some of the dogs until she calmed down.

“They’re going to be a handful,” Mrs. Prothero said, hearing Tom stomp around for a bit and ranting to himself. “they were getting along quite well up until Wednesday,” Mr. Prothero hummed in agreement, remembering how the two had gone from civil to fighting in only three days.

 “Well, I think they both like the challenge, the boys are all scared of (y/n), so Tom is probably the first boy to not be, and (y/n) is much different than what he’s probably used to. I’m sure they’ll be friends one day; they just need to get over themselves.” Mr. Prothero said, smiling as Mrs. Prothero kissed his cheek.

“Wise beyond your years my love,” Mrs. Prothero said, glancing up to Tom’s room as they heard the pacing stop and Tom flop onto his bed-his scream muffled by a pillow. “I’m only fifty-one Bren,” Mr. Prothero laughed, kissing his wife as he turned, holding her close as they looked out the window-watching their daughter rant away to one of their shelter dogs.

“At least this summer will be entertaining,” Mrs. Prothero joked, patting her husband's chest and Mr. Prothero laughed, nodding along.

Oh yes, a very entertaining summer indeed.

-end of p3-

Yeah they’re suddenly fighting now, I feel like with Tom’s personality and rough edges, once he doesn’t care about being in someone's good graces-he wont be that charming boy all the teachers know him as-and then hes suddenly that cockney prat that’s easy to hate

Idk what I’m doing still lol

And yes I’m using Anastasia dialogue