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harryslittlefreakk · 1 year ago

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the pact

summary: you and harry made a childhood pact to marry if you were both still single when he reached 30. now that his big birthday is approaching, you find out whether your friendship (and your pact) have stood the test of time

warnings: mostly fluff, some smut :)

wordcount: 6k

a/n: i actually really like this one. it’s not proofread yet as i was so eager to get it up lol. hope you enjoy!

my masterlist can be found here! happy reading 🫶🏼

From the second you’d received the invitation, you were buzzing with a giddy nervousness. It had been years since you’d seen Harry, though Anne and Gemma were always so quick to share what he was up to. You’d followed his career silently for 13 years, still bumping into him every few years when Anne hosted Boxing Day, or he happened to be in town for your family’s annual summer barbecues. In your mind, he was still the cheeky, dimpled little lad you’d hide under the dining room table with, imagining you were explorers of far away lands.

But Harry wasn’t the young boy you’d chased after in your childhood anymore, the teenager you looked out for when you stuck your head over the garden fence to call your sister home. He wasn’t the handsome young man you’d spent countless hours swooning over with your friends in the bakery after school. Harry was a global sensation, the world’s sweetheart. You weren’t sure he’d even recognise you, a forgotten reminder of much simpler days.

Growing up next door to Harry hadn’t come without its challenges. You’d lost your childhood best friend seemingly overnight once One Direction formed, his life suddenly busy with meetings, tours and interviews. Anne still welcomed you with open arms, but her house felt a little too cold for you with his presence haunting the walls, memories etched into every surface of the house. You’d still hang out in his bedroom sometimes, his band posters and drawings left collecting dust in a lifeless room. When girls from school learned of your connection to him, they’d befriend you and treat you like the hottest new thing until you refused to give over any information. He was your Harry, your long-gone games and silly memories something you held close to your heart. It soon seemed easier to let him go altogether, move on to a new chapter, stop waiting for your best friend to appear again.

Still, you were glad to be able to support Gemma on one of her biggest days. She’d become such a regular feature in your household, she felt like family herself. Your parents had been more overjoyed at the news of her impending nuptials than any of yours or your sister’s recent achievements. They loved Gemma like their own, their ‘extra daughter’, as your dad called her. You knew this was as big a moment for them as it was for Anne, having watched Gemma grow from the tiny dark-haired girl your sister had raved about on her first day of school, to a woman about to become a wife.

Standing outside of the venue now, a beautiful old church overlooking the peaceful tides below, yours and Harry’s childhood pact suddenly hit you. You were laying on a blanket in your garden, tops of your heads pressed together as you made out shapes in the clouds above. “I will never get married,” you told Harry. Your parents had had their wedding album out that day, sharing stories with Anne and Robin. You squirmed and grimaced every time they spoke about it, never understanding how any girl would willingly share their life with a boy. “Yuck,” he squeaked from next to you. “Me either. I don’t ever want to live with a stinky girl!” You giggled together, the cool evening breeze washing over you. “Maybe, maybe I might one day though. When I’m really old and lonely.”

“Old like my parents?” you asked him. “Even olderer than that. Like 30.” You gasped, quickly trying to count on your fingers. “That’s really really old. Maybe we can be married when we’re 30.” Harry ran inside when you said this, leaving you chasing after him once again. He grabbed a napkin from the kitchen counter and scribbled on it in felt tip,

‘I ____ will marry Harry when we’re really super old’

“You have to put your name on that line or it’s not real,” Harry told you, handing the blue felt tip to you. You both signed your initials underneath, and proudly went to show your parents. They’d fallen about in laughter when you told them, promising to hold you to your pact. You hadn’t seen the napkin since that day, and you were sure it was long forgotten by everybody, especially Harry. You felt a small twinge in your chest at this, suddenly wishing you were anywhere but here.

“Hey Boo, you okay? Anne wants to get some pictures of us all together before the ceremony,” your dad told you, leading you through the crowd of guests. Boo was the only nickname that had ever stuck for you, starting when you and Harry decided to go as Boo and Sully from Monsters Inc. one Halloween. You’d originally wanted to be Mike, but with your big brown eyes shielded by little bangs and your signature pigtails, everyone persuaded you to be Boo. You’d outgrown almost everything else from childhood, but Boo was stuck with you for life.

“Oh Y/N, you look lovely darling,” Anne cooed as you came into her sight. She pulled you in for a hug, kissing your cheek as she pulled away. You had to admit, you did scrub up well. It was a long time since you’d really made the effort to look properly nice, still caught in the comfort of your pandemic wardrobe of leggings and sweatshirts. The olive-green maxi dress you’d settled on hugged your body in all the right places, a thick band of material draping over your chest and the tops of your arms, showcasing your toned shoulders. You’d always weirdly liked your shoulders and neck, an odd area to be proud of but it was by far your favourite part of your body. Your hair was scraped back in a sleek bun, tiny wisps framing your fresh face. “Gem and Sophia are still inside, they’ll be out in a minute. Gem’s so excited to see you, it’s been so long since we’ve all been together,” Anne gushed, running a hand up the outside of your arm.

She had such a delicate, warm presence, it was no wonder she’d raised two children as incredible as Harry and Gemma. Anne had been an extension of your own mum as you grew up, small traces of her as much as part of you as they were her own kids. She’d talked you through boys and heartbreaks, been there to wave you off to your school prom, one of the proudest faces in the crowd when you graduated university. She’d been stationed on the garden patio alongside your mum at every birthday party, the two women nattering away as they guarded the wine.

Gemma stepped out of the door, pulling you out of your daydream down memory lane. Your jaw went slack when you saw her, she was positively radiant. Her dress was a dainty satin, huge bishop sleeves adorning her arms and a beautiful full skirt, flowing around her petite frame in the gentle seaside breeze. Your mum rushed over to her first, smoothing a loving hand down the front of her skirt. “You look beautiful Gem,” she told her, tears glistening on her bottom eyelashes. Hugs and pleasantries were exchanged throughout the group, shoulders bumping gaily as you moved around. One thing was still missing though - Harry. You knew he’d never miss his sisters wedding, though he was absolutely nowhere to be seen. Just as you were about to ask, you saw him. With a deep brown suit jacket draped across his body, matching slacks hanging loose on his muscular thighs. A white vest hung low on his chest, his inked swallows sitting pretty on tanned skin.

You knew how good he looked these days, of course. Your tiktok had been full of videos of him performing, Anne’s house littered with framed photos. But seeing him in real life lit a fire in your belly. He’d always been pretty, green eyes and curls enough to charm any woman, but now he was hot. A great, big hunk of sexy man. He approached your parents first, laughing as your dad chose to forgo Harry’s outstretched hand, pulling him into a hug instead. “Here’s our not-so-little superstar,” he smiled, ruffling Harry’s messy curls. Harry pressed a kiss into your mums cheek, exchanging a quick but heartfelt hello. His eyes caught on yours as he glanced across the courtyard, your brown eyes still crinkled as you smiled, in exactly the same way they had when you were younger. “Little Boo!” he chuckled, striding towards you. His strong arms wrapped you into a firm cuddle, his musky scent spilling into your pores. “You look incredible,” he whispered into your ear, voice raspy and low. It wasn’t long before Anne was ushering you all into place to take some pictures, cutting yours and Harry’s catch up short. “Come and find me later,” he told you as you beamed for the camera.

—

With the ceremony long-finished, the party had spilled out of the church hall and onto the grounds outside. You’d danced, mingled and laughed for as long as you could before needing a minute of quiet. Brushing your hand across your mum’s back, you told her you were going for a little walk and would be back soon. You slipped out of the open doors, yanking your heels off in search of some quick relief. You spotted a little wooden bench overlooking the sea, a little way away from the other guests. A great oak tree shielded it from the warm evening sun, providing you just the right amount of peace.

“Thought you were gonna find me,” a voice suddenly came from behind you. You turned around to see Harry approaching your private spot, a sparkling glass in each hand. “Hey,” you smiled. “Just needed a little bit of quiet. Come sit,” you patted the bench beside you. Harry handed you one of the glasses as he sat down, murmuring, “saw you heading over here. Thought I’d bring you a little tipple.” You cheersed, the clinking of glasses cutting through a heavy silence. “How have you been?” he asked you, shifting his body slightly to face you.

“Been good, H. Thank you for asking. Work’s going well, was a bit slow with the pandemic and all but life’s been kind to me recently. I don’t really need to ask you, do I?” you laughed, suddenly shy in his presence. “No, I guess not,” he answered, smiling kindly at you. You settled back into an uncomfortable silence, not really sure how to talk to one another anymore.

“Mum told me you moved to London,” Harry said, seemingly desperate to pierce the awkwardness hanging over you both. “Yeah, I did,” you told him, explaining how Holmes Chapel had started to feel just a little too small, a little too cut off from the rest of the world. “I can understand that,” he told you, chuckling. You ran through the usual questions, telling him about your work as an illustrator, your little flat off of Finchley high road, the couple of girls from school you’d kept in touch with. “I can’t believe you live so close to me,” he gasped. “Mum could never remember what area you lived in, if I’d known you were only down the road we could have reconnected long before now,” Harry told you. You let out an involuntary scoff at this, telling him, “you know where to find me, H. You know your mum has my number, you know where I’ll be every Christmas and birthday. If you really wanted to reconnect it would have happened long before now.” Your words tumbled out, years of one-sided hurt and rejection suddenly pushing to the surface. Harry took a big sip of his drink, placing his hand over yours. “I’ve been shit, I know. Got caught up in everything and barely looked back. Wanted to reach out a long time before now but I couldn’t bring myself,” he told you. “Felt so bad for how I just disappeared and didn’t want to face it.”

You looked at him with sad eyes, searching his face for any sign of insincerity. “I get it, H. I’m really happy for you, I am. You had all your dreams come true, it’s amazing,” you set your glass down beside you and held your other hand over his. “Just feel sad that I lost my best friend overnight.” Your eyes welled up as you spoke, a combination of the free-flowing prosecco, the beautiful ceremony, and facing your hurt with the man who caused it. “Never had a friend who got me like you did,” you chuckled bitterly. Harry pulled his hands from yours and snaked an arm around your shoulder, pulling you close to his side. “I’m sorry, little Boo, I swear.”

The pair of you stayed that way for a while, soaking in each other’s words and the idyllic setting. Just being close to each other for the first time in almost a decade, having said what you both needed to, was bliss. “I thought about you a lot, y’know,” Harry told you suddenly, the words bursting out as if he’d been biting them back for a while. “Yeah?” you asked him, sitting up straighter to look at him again. He nodded, cheeks twinged slightly pink. You weren’t sure if it was the booze or his confession. “All my big moments, always wished you were there.”

“You know I would’ve been if I knew you wanted me to, Harry.”

“I know,” he mumbled, watching his own trainer-clad feet kicking little rocks around. “My mum and dad went to a few of your shows with Anne, watched the Brits and the Grammys every year you were nominated.” You swallowed thickly, before continuing, “I’m really proud of you, we all are.”

Harry turned his head slightly to the sound of music blaring from inside, before asking you, “dance with me?” He extended a hand to help you up, placing his glass down before wrapping an arm around your waist. You stepped together slowly, bodies moving in unison with your head rested softly against his chest. The skies had gotten gradually darker as you’d spoken, closing in around you until only a faint glow seeped out from the open church doors. Harry pushed you out, spinning you around before tugging you back into him. You smacked against his chest with a little ‘umph’, the wind knocked out of you. Your eyes met his, a little dazed, and all you could do was stare.

It felt like a betrayal of your childhood self to find him so attractive now. He was your best friend, your first friend, the only one to ever understand you fully. He’d guided you through your awkward pre-teen stage, the extra years he had on you put to good use when he showed you cool bands and songs to make boys like you. But now, you wanted him to be the boy that liked you. You were so flustered under his gaze, heat tearing through your body. “Let’s head back in,” you told Harry, words shaky. He kept an arm tight around your shoulder, shaking you about as you approached the church. ‘I’ve got my little Boo back’ he laughed in a sing-song tune. You could feel the happiness radiating off his body, knowing without even looking that his toothy grin would be firmly nestled between two deep dimples.

Your parents were sat around a table with Anne, Michal and Gemma still doing the rounds. You could tell they were drunk from a mile away - your dads cheeks stained red with merriment and Anne’s hands gesturing wildly as your mum roared with laughter. You’d missed this. You still went home as often as you could, never missing an opportunity to enjoy time with your loved ones, but before seeing Harry today it always felt different. Gemma, your sister, and Harry had all moved on, never fully present. But being the youngest, you were the one left behind. Harry pulled around two chairs for you both, plopping down between you and his mum. She draped her arms around his neck, pulling him in for a sloppy kiss. “My special boy, where have you been?” she slurred.

“Been catching up,” Harry told her, a blush creeping up his cheeks as she looked between the two of you before winking at him. She was far from subtle before getting wine drunk, so now her entire head moved with her wink. She highlighted it with a loud “wink, wink” in Harry’s direction. “Anne!” you spluttered, choking out a laugh. Your dad reached over to snatch the two empty glasses from in front of you and Harry, promising to fill them to the brim so you could ‘get on their bloody level’.

The evening continued like that, the 5 of you drinking and laughing, reminiscing on your younger days. Your parents and Anne managing to bring up enough embarrassing stories about you both to put you off ever speaking to them again. “I think it’s time we all go to bed,” Harry started, holding his hands up. “Because we’re all fucking PISSED!”, he continued, yelling at the table. You banged on the table in hysterics, eyes screwed up tight as you and Anne fell into each other in laughter. Most of the venue had cleared out by now, guests dropping by your table to congratulate Anne on their way out. You’d barely seen Gemma all night, so content in her little love bubble that she’d spent the majority of the evening alone with Michal, feeding each other cake and slow-dancing.

“Come on, you big lump,” you tugged at your dad’s wrists who in turn pulled at your mum to stand up. Your dad swung his arms around you both, Harry and Anne joining onto the end, and you stumbled towards the exit in a fit of laughter. Harry tried to start a can-can line, kicking one big foot up into the air, but the 5 of you put together had far less coordination than even one sober person, so the idea was quickly abandoned.

The church had a converted barn outside, with rooms purpose-built for immediate family and friends to stay in. You hugged and kissed your goodnights to your parents and Anne, making sure they all got into bed without mischief. Now it was only you and Harry left, buzzed but significantly less drunk than your elders. “Care for one last round?” Harry asked you, slipping a little hip flask out from his blazer pocket. You knew this was a bad idea, a drunken evening alone with the man you’d been lusting after all day. But you certainly wouldn’t make the first move, and you were almost sure he didn’t think of you as anything other than the little girl who used to run around with him.

You followed him into his room, laughing to drown out the alarm bells ringing in your head. Once you saw the empty bed in front of you, you couldn’t help but just flop down on it, suddenly needing to be as comfortable as you could. The room was aged and rustic, but the bed was far more comfortable than it looked. Harry sat against the pillows beside you, long legs stretched out before him as he took a swig from the flask.

For the first time that day, the silence around you was peaceful. Just two old friends enjoying each others presence. Harry watched you as you took the flask from him, grimacing as the liquor went down with a burn. His green eyes were studying every little line on your face, every freckle dotted across your bare shoulders. There was so much new about you, so many little details and marks you’d gained as you grew older, all the little telltale signs of the years he’d missed. What he’d said to you earlier was true, he’d missed you with his whole heart from the second he’d left you behind, spent so many lonely nights wishing he had you by his side. He thought he’d outgrown you, his new-found fame taking precedence over the little girl he’d shared his dreams and aspirations with. But sitting here now with you, he knew you’d grown with him, no matter how far removed your life had become from his. “‘M nearly 30, you know,” he drawled, voice hoarse from the singing and the sting of alcohol in his throat.

“Huh?” you turned to him confused. “I’m 30 next year,” he told you. “Yeah I know, H. What does that have to do with anything?” you laughed, poking at the side of his head. “Means we have to get married next year,” he grinned. You gasped, remembering the pact you’d thought about earlier in the day, “you didn’t forget!” you laughed, sitting up against the soft pillows.

“Can’t do it next year though, two weddings in a year would send our parents insane,” you told him. “‘M finished with my tour now. Got nothing on next year,” Harry shrugged, a familiar cheeky smirk sitting pretty between his dimpled cheeks. You felt something shift in the air as he spoke, and he seemed to feel it too, edging closer to you until his face was only centimetres away from yours. “Did I tell you how beautiful you look today?” he cooed, one hand coming up to cup your cheek. His touch shot electricity through your core, a tingling sensation starting where his fingers touched you before washing over your whole body. You shook your head lightly, eyes fixed on him. He leaned in at this, his parted lips meeting yours. The beginnings of a moustache tickled your upper lip, his hot breath flowing into your mouth with every lick of his tongue. You shifted your body towards him as the kiss deepened, four legs and the now-crumpled duvet tangling together as you rushed to close the distance between your bodies. Harry licked into your mouth with the passion of a million years of unspoken longing, his movements saying more than he ever could with words. It was the kind of kiss you’d expect from someone who’d loved you for a lifetime, who wanted to love you for a lifetime, your tongues working alongside each other like this was routine, like you’d done it a thousand times before.

“Harry,” you whispered, hands pushing his blazer from his shoulders. He let you pull it off him, then stroked a hand up your thigh as you admired his upper body. One arm was littered in patchwork tattoos, though all you could focus on was his muscles, illuminated beautifully in the evening light. “Let me get you out of this,” he rasped, twisting your shoulders around to access the zip running down the back of your dress. He smoothed his fingers down your waist and to your hips before unzipping you, your body dwarfed by his strong hands. Harry pressed a kiss into the top of your back, then kissed up and down your spine, hungry for a taste of you as he unveiled more of your skin. You stood up to help him pull your dress down, resting one hand on his shoulder to steady yourself as you stepped out of it, leaving it discarded on the floor. “Matches my eyes,” he smiled. His gaze trailed from your toes, up to your knees, to where your panties wrapped around your hips, and higher still. Up your tanned abdomen to your bare breasts where your rosebud nipples sat perky, to your neck, and finally his gaze rested on your eyes. “Y’so beautiful,” he groaned, running a soft touch along the curve of your neck.

Harry pulled his tank top over his head, stepping out of his slacks as they collapsed at his feet. His body was unbelievable. So tanned and toned, firm in all the right places yet soft in the best ones. You could see the outline of his hard shaft through the thin fabric of his boxers, an almost silent moan slipping out as you took in the sight before you.

He stepped closer to you, backing you up until the side of the bed hit the back of your knees, then held a hand to your back to guide you down onto it. His hot, drunken breath washed over you as he climbed on top of you, one hand balancing his body as the other explored you. His fingers groped your breast firmly, mouth finding the opposite nipple, sucking it into his lips in one quick movement. Your back arched off the bed, pleasure so built up that it only took one touch to send you into a frenzy. Harry licked a circle around your areola, chuckling against your skin as you writhed under his touch. “Barely even started yet, little Boo,” he drawled, moving upwards to kiss along your clenched jaw.

His fingers danced down your body, smoothing over your mound as you gasped and groaned. They slipped under the soft material of your panties, blissfully cold against the heat of your entrance. You were already soaked through, much to his surprise, so he swiped a finger through your folds to collect your juices before landing straight on your clit. Harry rubbed you in circles, the friction leaving you a panting mess under him, head jutting out to press open-mouthed kisses on his throat.

He pulled your panties down your thighs tenderly, kissing every inch of skin they passed over. In the dim light of the room, mouth moving up and down your body, he’d never looked so handsome. His cock brushed against you as he moved back up your body to focus again on your folds, your juices spread across your mound in a mess. Two long fingers dived straight in, his rings leaving a harsh chill against your sensitive skin. The stretch of his fingers alone had you panting, a familiar burning starting in your core. Harry found your sweet spot insanely fast, fingers moving in a perfect beckoning motion just as you liked. He navigated your body like you’d done this before, like the muscle memory just guided him to what he knew made you feel good. “I want more, want you inside of me,” you whined, hips bucking towards Harry’s groin as he silenced you with a deep kiss. “Got to get you ready for me first, Boo”, he told you. You winced as he used your nickname, knowing you’d never be able to hear your dad call you that without thinking of this night.

Harry’s mouth found your breast again, sucking deep purple bruises onto the gentle skin as you whimpered beneath him. He smacked at your pussy as your moans got louder, causing your eyes to shoot up to meet his. “Gotta keep the noise down, sweet girl.” You nodded in response, teeth clamping down on your bottom lip to keep yourself as quiet as you could be. The second his tongue found your nipple, you felt your orgasm bubbling up in your core. Harry noticed the way your head lulled back, slipping a third finger inside of you and using his thumb to brush against your clit. It was like the holy trinity of foreplay, his skilled tongue and fingers hitting your three most pleasurable zones at once. Your climax hit quickly, walls tightening around his digits as you clamped your forearm across your mouth, desperately trying not to scream his name. He peppered kisses down your throat as his fingers rode you through your high, only pulling them away when you went limp under him. Harry held his fingers to his mouth, tongue darting out to lick off every trace of your creamy come.

He backed off you to kick his boxers down his legs, stroking his erection as it oozed precum. He found his wallet, pulling out a condom and rolling it down the length of his cock. “How do you want me, sweet girl?” he asked you, cock twitching in his hand. “Wanna go on top,” you told him, suddenly eager to impress. If his cock was anywhere near as good to you as his hands and mouth had been, you couldn’t only have him once. You needed to show him how good your pretty pussy could take him, make him want to come back for more.

Harry rolled onto the centre of the bed, hands guiding your hips down over his groin. His hand cupped the back of your head, pulling you towards him for a sloppy kiss. His mouth tasted of you, the familiar tingle of juices on his tongue. You stroked his member up and down quickly, before lining it up with your entrance and pushing yourself down onto his tip. “Fuck, H. You’re so big,” you whined, thighs burning as you hovered above him. He used his hands to move you up, then down, down, down, helping you to take him fully. The burn was like nothing you’d experienced before, his girthy cock crammed into every corner of your pussy. You stilled for a moment, hands resting against his butterfly tattoo, chest rising and falling quickly as you tried to push past the ache. He held a thumb under your chin, tilting your head to look at him. “You ok, pet?” he asked, needing to be sure before you continued. You nodded, moving one arm to pull his finger into your mouth. You licked circles around his fingertip, sucking it in down to his knuckle before releasing with it a pop.

Harry’s hands guided your hips to grind against him, helping you until you found your rhythm. He pulled them away, one landing with a loud smack on your ass cheek as the other crept up the front of your body, resting at your throat. He squeezed lightly, the sensation only spurring you on to bounce up and down on him, the combination of your juices squelching as your cheeks slapped against his groin. It was the kind of hot, dirty sex you’d only ever dreamed of, and it had you falling apart on top of him. You cried out a strangled moan, expletives falling out of both of your mouths. “Feel so good around me,” Harry groaned, “so fucking wet. S’that all for me?”

“All for you, H. M’all yours,” you whimpered. His hips bucked against you as you told him you were his, fingers pulling away from your supple ass. He spat on them before dancing them back across your asscheek and smoothing the spit around your second hole, eyes fixed on your pussy bouncing on his cock. “Can I?” he asked you. “Please, H.”

He pushed a finger into your tightness, filling you up so well. You felt so full you could burst. His eyes were clouded over with lust, tiny hairs slick to his forehead with sweat. He looked feral, and you loved it. He repositioned his feet to where they were flat against the bed, hips knocking into you as you moved up and down his cock, his thrusts sending him deeper and deeper inside of you. You were both panting now, barely able to contain your highs for a second longer. “Come with me, come with me please,” you begged him, your second orgasm of the night starting to rise through your core. His thrusts got faster and sloppier, obscene sounds echoing around the room, a clear sign of what you were doing to anyone who could hear you right now. Your orgasm crept up on you quickly, thanks to Harry tightening his grip around your neck and pushing his finger further into your tight hole. Your head was thrown back as you came, back arched making his cock feel as though it could burst through your belly button. Harry moaned loudly, hips jutting one last time as he flooded the condom with his come. You collapsed in a sweaty heap, totally unable to hold yourself up any longer.

“Took me so well, angel girl,” Harry drawled as he pulled out of you, padding across the room to toss the condom and rinse his hands. You lay there in total bliss, comfortable in the knowledge that your friendship was long gone.

—

“Let me go first and you can come after,” you told Harry, holding a finger up to shush him when he started to laugh. “We’re grown adults, Y/N, it doesn’t matter if anyone sees us come out together.”

“I don’t write songs about sex and drugs. My body is still untouched in my parents eyes,” you told him, hand slipping from the doorknob as he pulled you in for another kiss. “Just don’t come until you hear me leaving.”

You crept out of the room as silently as you could, heels and dress bundled under one arm. You’d heard Anne, your parents and Gemma head out to the courtyard already, so there was no danger of being caught by prying eyes - or so you thought. As you were padding across the hallway to your room, Anne appeared round the corner. “I was just coming to see if you were awake,” she told you, eyes sparkling with glee. “No wonder your mum said your bed was untouched.” She knocked on Harry’s door with a tight-lipped smile lighting up her face. He opened the door wide-eyed as Anne pulled him into a firm hug, pressing a sticky lipgloss kiss to his cheek. “I always hoped you two would get together.” She disappeared back down the hall as quickly as she appeared, leaving you and Harry blushing.

You decided to make your way outside together, knowing it wouldn’t be long before your parents put two and two together anyway. Plus, you knew Anne wouldn’t be able to resist telling your mum and Gemma what she saw.

—

You decided to spend the day on the beach, you and Harry with your parents and Anne, since Gemma and Michal had already left for their honeymoon. It was a perfect summers day, the sun warm enough to enjoy but not hot enough to irritate you, the gentle sea breeze cooling you down as it washed over you. Your mum and Anne were sprawled across a linen blanket, two bottles of wine stood in the sand next to their feet. They called you over, instant dread washing over you as Anne excitedly shouted your name. “Do you have anything to tell us?” she asked you, and you were sure there would be mischief glinting in her eyes under her big sunglasses. They sat up and scooted over on their blanket, leaving space for you to slot in between. “Nothing that I’m sure you don’t already know,” you smirked, a deep blush creeping up your cheeks. Your mum looked between Anne and you, gasping as she swatted at your leg. “So it’s true! You dirty little minx.”

You held your head in your hands, mortified that your parents knew you’d slept with Harry. “Oh relax,” your mum told you. “It’s nothing we haven’t done before,” she smirked, throwing herself towards Anne as they howled in laughter. Anne stopped suddenly, her hand tapping at your mum’s thigh incessantly. “If they get married, we’ll be real family!” she gasped, face pink with joy. “Well, the pact is what got us there in the first place,” Harry told them, sitting down next to you and snaking a hand around your waist.

“I forgot all about that,” your mum’s jaw went slack. “Do you still have it?” she asked Anne. “Of course I do. Kept it safe to show them when they found their way back to each other, always knew this day would come.”

part two

taglist: @sleutherclaw @harrysolaf @slutforcoffein

#harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry edward styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #Harry styles #harry styles fic #harryslittlefreakk #harry styles masterlist

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reiderwriter · 9 months ago

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Okay, I just wanted to start off and say I love your stories. They're always so good. You've reblogged one of my stories a while, and I actually squealed and scared the crap out of my friend. But yeah, I live you and your stories 💖💖💖

So I read your one story of Spencer being a soon-to-be dad, and I really like the idea of seeing Spencer and reader as actual parents just feeling the emotions. I thought something based around their daughter (because Spencer's a girl dad) hitting a milestone like walking, talking, or something even bigger like the first day of school. I don't know if that makes sense, but either way, I hope you like it!

A/N: I love the idea of new-dad Spencer. He deserves a loving family and a baby so much 😭 I combined this request with one of the prompts for @imagining-in-the-margins Kid Fic challenge which you can find the details for here! ❤️

Warnings: none, just fluff.

Masterlist

You never thought leaving to go for a spa day would be one of the hardest things you'd have to do in your life, but here you were.

In the ten months since you'd given birth to your daughter, you'd been stressed, lacking in sleep, leaking fluids from places that you forgot could have fluids leak from, and you'd been totally, irreversibly, head over heels in love.

Both with the tiny little gremlin you'd given birth to, and with the man that you watched become a father.

Spencer Reid was a great dad.

He'd had a fair amount of anxiety leading up to the birth, worrying about every detail, talking to geneticists, driving you to and from each check up or attending via video call if he was on a case. After she was born, he helped out as best he could.

For a man who had delivered a baby before and was absolutely great with his teammates' kids, he couldn't hold her for the first week without an intense look of panic crossing his features.

“Y/N, what happens if I drop her?”

“Y/N, she sneezed. What if I got her sick?”

“Y/N, she fell asleep, I can't move.”

A genius with an IQ of 187 slashed to 60 in front of a pretty girl. His tiny daughter had him thrown through a loop he got seriously stuck in.

He was still helpful, and he got used to all his new duties and tasks within a week, but watching those cute clueless expressions pass over his face now and then endeared you to him that much more.

He knew everything, but he had to learn this right there with you.

So yes, leaving for a relaxing spa visit was hard.

Spencer had been on a case for the last four days, his first since your daughter had arrived and the official end to his paternity leave. You'd been happy to see him get back to it, in all honesty. Spencer’s job, his research, and his work at the FBI were like muscles he needed to stretch. It wasn't that he couldn't live without them, but there would always be a part of him that felt stiff or unsure of himself without the possibilities of a case to unravel or some theorizing to do.

You were slightly panicked at the thought of being alone with your daughter for four days, but you managed. With a phone call home every single night where he asked you about every single thing your little bundle of joy had done outside of his watchful gaze.

Now, it was your turn.

Spencer had insisted on it upon returning from his case. He got four nights of relative peace after 20 months of waking up with the baby, sleeping with the baby, napping when the baby napped, carrying the baby around when it became evident that she was desperately scared of not being the center of attention.

He came back with a spring in his step, and the deep desire to see you get a solid night's rest the way he'd been able to.

You'd tried shooting him down, multiple times, to no reward.

“Spencer, you didn't exactly just up and go off gallivanting. You were working.”

“I was working, and I still got more rest than you. I really needed that sleep and time away, Y/N, and I think you do, too. Now, please, go away,” he'd pulled you into his arms when you'd put the baby down that night to reveal his brilliant plans.

“Just for the night. Go away for a lovely overnight break. Not indefinitely. I love you.” His panicked confession at the end sent you into giggles, that with a few well times kisses had you reluctantly agreeing to the girls trip he'd planned you.

The BAU girls had been roped into accompanying you on the trip, which honestly meant that he'd be getting status updates any time he asked for one.

JJ, Penelope, Emily, and Tara were all going to strong arm you into the car if need be to carry you off to the nearest 5(ish) star Hotel and Spa.

And that's exactly what happened.

The man had even packed the bag for you to send you off, had made you breakfast in bed and had run to every sound your daughter had made from dusk until dawn so you didn't have to lift a finger.

“Y/N, you're resting today.”

“But-”

“No. No buts. Just rest.”

“At least let me hold her for a second to say goodbye.” He blinked at you for a few seconds before his stubbornly helpful face turned softer, and he quickly handed your daughter back for a small cuddle.

With a lingering hug, you told your daughter - who absolutely did not care one bit that you would be wandering out of the house soon enough - that you'd be back in the morning, kissed your husband on the lips, and were swiftly kidnapped by JJ and Emily.

To your credit, you lasted two whole hours before breaking down.

The drive to the hotel was quick and peaceful, and it felt nice to breathe in the fresh air without having to also check for various baby smells.

You checked in fast, and all gathered in the in-hotel restaurant for brunch and mimosas, and then it hit you. Another mother walked in with a stroller, and you were blubbering.

Your bottom lip wobbled, and the rest of the world ceased to exist as you gave in to the emotions.

You knew, of course, that you were going to have to leave your daughter at some point. It wasn't healthy for either of you to have attachment issues, and you didn't want to hinder your daughters development by sticking too close - but that didn't mean you didn't miss her.

JJ noticed your watery eyes first. “Oh no, I know that look,” she smiled over her drink, taking a sip.

“What? What look?” You said, but giving yourself massively away with a good sniff and watery blink.

“You lasted longer than I did. I couldn't go half an hour without turning my car around and heading back to Henry, and I swear it was only worse with Michael.”

You giggled a bit as you wiped your eyes.

“Do you think… do you think we could go back? Just for a little bit. I just want to check on them.”

The women passed a look between them and then nodded back at you, obviously having expected this.

“Actually, we didn't book any spa treatments until the afternoon. We had a feeling something like this would happen,” Tara smiled at you, and you snorted in surprise as you dabbed away your tears with a handkerchief.

“We are laying some ground rules though,” Emily said, a stern tone fighting the playful smile on her face.

“We can peak through a window, but we're not going in. And we're not going to call ahead and let Spencer know. The kid needs to know you feel confident in his parenting skills, and if he's just got the baby settled and you come back in, it won't be easy to calm her down again.”

“You drive a hard bargain,” you said, but you were already halfway to the car by the time you could finish the sentence.

The girls pulled up a block away and let you walk calmly back to your front door.

You'd since agreed to a time limit and not to unlock the door. Emily went ahead to scope out the house, communicating with JJ on the phone who was holding your hand to stop you from wringing them.

You'd never been a part of the BAU, but somehow you felt like a team member on a case getting ready to stake out a target.

When Emily gave you the signal, the rest of the girls gave you space, and you ducked down to peer into your ground floor window.

Spencer was on his stomach with your daughter, and they were having what seemed like a riveting conversation.

“And so then I obviously got tongue-tied. Like I said, Daddy isn't good at talking to people, let alone beautiful women like Mommy.”

“Be be be da.”

“Exactly. I really embarrassed myself, actually. I went up to her and said ‘do you have a number?’ and she was so confused.”

“Ba!”

“Yeah, she sounded like that, too. I kept talking more and more, and she couldn't understand what I meant. She thought I was asking about her age at one point. I was just getting redder and redder, and then she grabbed my hand and led me to a seat at the back of the bookshop because she thought I was sick.”

He smiled down at the infant again, still babbling to herself.

“I was sick, of course, but it was just love sickness. I still am.”

The tears that you'd delicately wiped away earlier came back hot and heavy now as you resisted the urge to crawl through the window to your precious family.

Spencer was telling your daughter the story of how he first asked you out, near disastrously, and from the sounds of it, he wasn't done telling stories.

“I really love your Mommy, you know. She's wonderful.”

“Mmmm,”

“See, you think so too. Everyone thinks so.”

“Mmmma”

“Yes, your Mama. You’re just like her, everyone loves you, too.”

“Mama.”

You heard Spencer's breath hitch as you closed a hand over your mouth to stop a shocked squeal from coming out.

“T-That's right. Mama. One more time, say mama.”

“Mama,” the little baby squealed in delight, reacting to her fathers utter joy.

“You're speaking. One more time, Mama.”

“Mama!”

“Your mama is going to be so mad,” Spencer whispered, grabbing his daughter up in one more careful hug and kissing her face as she giggled delightfully. “We need to keep this a secret. Tomorrow, you'll have you say your first word in front of her, and we'll both act surprised, okay? Promise?”

The gargle he got in response was enough to have your shoulders shaking as the others extricated you from your own front lawn.

Back in the car, you broke down into giggles and tears, shoulders rising and falling in sobs and laughter intermittently.

“Is this a total psychotic break or just a symptom of seeing Spencer as a dad?” Penelope asked, nudging you with her elbow as you tried to regain your composure.

“It's… whew, it's okay. We can go back now.”

“You sure?” JJ asked from the driver's seat, and you nodded once again.

“Yeah. I'm fine now. I'm really good.”

The women all offered you similar smiles as you drove away, blissful and content.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #mgg #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid criminal minds #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader fluff #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n

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kingkatsuki · 2 years ago

Text

He just wants to be good enough for you always🥺

Warnings: fluff, reader has a mum and dad.

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader.

Word Count: 1.1k.

You know how he feels.

It was the same feeling that bubbled inside your tummy when you were meeting his parents for the first time. Feeling silly for being so nervous the minute you stepped through the door as you were welcomed into a fierce hug by Mitsuki. A large photo album strewn over both your laps as Masaru offered you some homemade dorayaki.

“It ain’t the same thing,” He scoffs, staring at his reflection in the mirror as he pulls his tie out of its loop to start all over.

“How is it not the same?” You laugh from your position at your vanity, stroking your clear gloss against your lips as you watch him struggle with his tie again.

“They need to know that I can take care of ya,” He pushes, cursing under his breath when he looped the tie.

There’s something that convinces him that he’ll somehow never be good enough for you. The self-doubt and insecurity that’s plagued him since childhood rears its ugly head for situations like these— situations that have your usually strong and confident boyfriend reduced to that same terrified little boy.

“They know you take care of me, baby.” You turn in your chair to face him.

“I ain’t even number one yet, and they need to believe I’m good enough to look after their little girl?” He drops his tie in exasperation as it sits around his neck.

Standing up from your position at his vanity as you make your way over to him. Cupping his hands in your smaller ones as you lace your fingers together at your sides. Squeezing reassuringly as you practically feel his heart pounding against his ribcage, brows furrowed as you smile up at him.

“They won’t care about any of that, Katsuki.” You coo, feeling how sweaty his palms have become from preparing to meet your parents, “All they’ll care about is that you’re treating me well, and that you’re a good man.”

“A good man that leaves you for weeks at a time.” He scoffs.

It’s always a sore spot in your relationship when Bakugou has to leave for work. The best missions always seem to be the ones that take him further away from home than either of you would like. The biggest boosts to his hero ranking always seem to mean the longer trips, phone calls and FaceTimes at unsociable hours the things that keep you both close. But he always keeps his promise to return back to you safely, little gifts from the destination that reminded you of him.

“You do what you have to do, and I understand so they will too.” You reach your hands up to his forgotten tie. Slowly wrapping the fabric around to begin to loop it, pulling it through as he keeps his crimson gaze on you, “There’s no one else for me, Katsuki. Never will be.”

Bakugou would steal the sun in the sky for you if he could, submerge the entire world into darkness if it meant that only you could see it’s glow. There isn’t a single thing he wouldn’t do for you, and if only everyone could see that. The scrutinising tabloid articles and online posts still attack his character, wondering how a man as bold and brash as Dynamight could ever love anyone. But he proves it to you daily, through his words and actions.

You’d found a good one in Bakugou Katsuki, the perfect man. And you’d spend every day fighting his corner if you had to.

“Do you think I should bring that award I got last week? I think it might show your parents that—”

“Katsuki,” You cut off his rambling, shaking your head, “They don’t need to see that to know you’re successful. And I’m pretty sure my mum’s shown an article about that to all of her friends already.”

“I just want them to know that I can look all after ya,” He continues, “Even though my last mission ran over.”

A three week mission had turned into six after Bakugou had discovered the villain he had been tracking down was at the centre of a huge drug ring, the extra three weeks had meant taking down the entire operation but it had meant leaving you alone for Christmas— when he was first supposed to meet them.

“They understood, Kats.”

“I think your ma was pissed.” He scoffs.

“Not as pissed as yours,” You laughed, “She spent the entire evening complaining about it when I dropped off our gifts for them.”

“That old hag,” He shook his head, “She still goes on about that, you know. Doesn’t matter that I jumped up fifty points because of it.”

“No matter what happens— I love you, so they will too.” You smooth your palm along his chest to lay his neatly tied tie down flat against his dress shirt. His hand reaching up to try and tug at the uncomfortable collar as you grin up at him. Standing up on tiptoes to steal a kiss before wiping your gloss from his lips with your thumb, an action that’s halted by him licking his lips to taste the sticky sweetness as he pulls his head back.

“You’re such a dork.” You laugh, shaking your head as you turn around to check your face in the full length mirror.

“Yeah, but I’m your dork.” He hums, wrapping his arms around your waist as he settles his chin against your shoulder.

“Yeah, you are.” You smile, resting your hands on his arms as he sways you side to side, “But I hope you’re ready for my mum to grill you about when we’re having kids.”

“Our ma’s together are gonna be a fuckin’ nightmare.” Bakugou groans, hiding his eyes in the curve of your neck as you start laughing.

“I’d expect nothing less for our relationship.” You smiled, “I’m still recovering from your proposal.”

“Oi,” Bakugou’s arms tightened around your waist, “It ain’t my fault that villain ruined the perfect fuckin’ proposal.”

#I never had a nuclear family so I tried😂#soft bakugou #bakugou x reader #bakugou fluff #katsuki bakugou x reader

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uinmyheart · 5 months ago

Text

[♡] "Hey, stranger"

"Hello, youuuu" you instantly smile after hearing his voice.

"How's everything going over there?" you ask. You're sitting in your pajamas, skincare routine already finished and putting some lotion on your legs. it's been ages since the last time you were able to do this properly.

"Well, our dear Hanni has been acting like a brat all day just because she misses you. She's been acting like i'm the devil." you hear a certain echo of his voice as well as the knocks of pans and silverware which probably means he's wrapping up the night routine while your call stays on speakers.

"I'm guessing you had an eventful day." you smile.

"And that's to say the least." you both giggle. "I'm not sure about letting Hanni continue with her football lessons. She's starting to grow some muscles and now I'm scared of a pre-teen that just happens to be my only daughter."

"I don't think it's the football lessons, babe. It's that age." you giggle. You're so happy to hear them and your heart aches now that you're not with them.

As soon as your daughter started growing, it was time to get back on your feet and start working again, but every single time you had to pack your things for a quick work trip, it became even more difficult than the previous one. Maybe it's the constant fear of missing out on things that happen in your house, or not being able to be in control of everything that's happening over there, but being completely honest, you cannot really complain about the perks that came with work travelling. The suite your workplace had provided for your stay, and the clean bathtub in your bathroom wasn't so bad either.

"I mean, you should've seen me driving over here with a car full of annoying teens making fun of everything that I did or said. The way they made fun of my nose for more than 20 minutes almost made me cry, honestly." hearing you giggle out loud makes him lightly smirk even though deep inside he still feels hurt by the way his own blood had betrayed him like that in front of all of her friends. "And feeding those demons.. It's insane. I'm going have to squeeze in a quick run to the grocery store. We're out of.. oh, yeah. Everything. They even found those special cookies we keep hidden for our movie nights."

"Ooh, babe. It was time you found out. Hanni has been eating them non-stop. That place is not a secret anymore. I just stopped restocking those because she always checks right after coming back home. It's taking a toll on our sweet treat budget." you deliver the bad news with a pretty big smile on your face, already imagining the look of confusion on his.

"That's insane. She's insane." "I know, right? But at least she's cute, though."

"Yeah, she really is. You should see the way she scrunches her nose when she runs on the field. Totally cute." he gushes and you can only hum in response. "What about you, though? How's my management & sales senior doing?"

"It's pretty boring over here, I must say." you sigh. "Boring deals with boring people. Cannot complain though, not allowed." you both giggle. "You wanna guess what I did today?" he hums.

"I had a 20 minute shower." he groans in response. "No complaints and no banging on the door."

"You're killing me over here!"

"And when I got out, I asked for room service. Had some fried chicken, some pizza and now I'm even waiting for dessert!"

"Are you guys hiring? Maybe I can squeeze in my résumé and a couple of interviews."

"I'm not sure relationships between coworkers are allowed over here.."

"For a night like that I could leave my wife." all jokes aside, "Hey!" you instantly exclaim, feigned offense laced in your voice.

"I know, baby. I know. Just joking." you smile at him. "So... what are you wearing? Do you miss me?"

Before you could even think about a cheeky response. A big, loud, and clear. "EW!" is heard right on cue. There's your girl.

"Dad, you're so disgusting." you can hear your husband loud complaints as well as your daughter's perfectly clear light hearted insults to his father.

"So what? Is it a crime to love your mother? I'm not apologizing for that."

"You're both too old for this! At least don't do it in a common area on speaker!"

As you stay silent for a couple of seconds you get to hear the way they go back and forth as Hanni continues to emphasize how embarrassed she feels by your behaviour. Teens can be so intense, you cannot help but roll your eyes.

"Anyways... Mom? Are you there?" your girl asks.

"Yes, my lovely daughter. How are you? Do you miss me?"

"Incredibly much. Dad over here is embarrassing me at school and at practice as well." you smile at what she tells you. You miss this banter even though you get to have a taste just by the phone.

"I'm sure he is. I made sure to give him instructions on how to!" Hanni whines on the phone and you can hear Jungkook in the background making slight fun of her.

"So, mom..." "Yes?" "I've been thinking.. since you're already there.." You know exactly where this is going. "Can i send some stuff for you to buy? There's this new lip glo-"

"Jeon Hanni! You're in so much trouble. Why would you use your time to talk to your mom to ask her stuff?!" Hanni whines as Jungkook continues. "That is not how I raised you!"

"Dad, you're so annoying. For real."

To cut things short, you ended up compromising on bringing your daughter this new lip gloss everyone's talking about and a new water bottle she insists that will help her performance on football practice. Absolutely ridiculous, yet you agreed on buying it just to make her happy.

And at the end of the night, when you're unable to get some sleep as you shine in the glow the television gives you, you're awoken from your trance-like state by a message from your husband.

It's the best way to end a mostly perfect day. A pictured of him and your daughter cuddling on your big bed together, her hiding on his chest already sleeping with her mouth wide open and him being his usual cheeky self with his big doe eyes and sticking his tongue out.

"She always caves ❤️ we miss you, honey! Come back soon"

and you cannot wait.

#bts jungkook #jungkook drabble #jungkook imagine #jungkook scenario #jungkook x reader #bts timestamp #it's been so long!!!#it's been sitting in my drafts for ages but i guess it's a way to break writer's block #dad!jungkook #dad!jk

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moonlightdancer26 · 28 days ago

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i have another concept for you.

In my opinion, making fun of Snape for his “sickly skin” or “greasy hair” is both thinly veiled racism and thinly veiled classism.

Now hear me out when I say I see A LOT of parallels between me and Snape over our looks. (I’m Korean for reference)

We both have:

- Yellow tinted skin

- Small eyes

- Greasy hair (I’m learning to manage it better)

- Crooked teeth (I got mine straightened out but I had them for a while)

Not to mention the Resting Bitch Face™️, which I most definitely picked up on from my Korean dad.

He’s also described to be relatively thin, which was a common trait in Asia in the 1960s/1970s (Although this may have also been because he was poor)

Every single one of these things are stereotypical east asian, and Korean things.

- “Yellow” skin has been a stereotype of East Asians for decades. I remember when I was first made fun of my my skin.

- Small eyes (due to monolids) are also a rampant stereotype. I’ve had many people pull their eyes back at me and tell me that’s how I look.

- Greasy hair is often caused by fine, thick hair, something many east asians have. Typically in my experience, many of my Korean friends end up washing their hair every day to make it not greasy. But Snape probably didn’t have the money to “waste” that much water, so he learned to deal.

- Crooked teeth. Many East Asian mouths/jaws are smaller than average, so your teeth don’t always have enough room to grow. Personally all my teeth either came in wrong or crooked, so I had to get 3 removed and get braces. But Snape wouldn’t have had the opportunity or money for this. So again, he learned to accept it.

Unlike me, as I come from a relatively well off family that could afford to let me wash my hair everyday and to get braces and mouth surgery, Snape didn’t have access to things that would “fix” his ugliness.

He was made fun of his entire life for being “greasy” and “ugly”. Had I not had the funds to fix my teeth and learn about my hair, I probably would have ended up like Snape. Hell, when I was at rock bottom hardly washing my hair because i didn’t have the energy, I looked a lot like him. He simply didn’t have the means to take care of himself, and for that he was ostracized and demonized.

Another thing I would like to add before I take my leave is that Snape grew up in 1960s/1970s ENGLAND. In a millers town. These people have never seen an Asian kid. Beauty tips in Asia are passed from mother to child. Eileen was European as far as we can tell. Even if they had a few things to help his hair (citrus rinses anyone?) or his mouth, or his skin (you can use rice to brighten your skin!) he wouldn’t have had someone to teach him that.

Anyway that’s some reasons why I think JKR not only applied stereotypical East Asian features to Snape to make him “ugly”, therefore encouraging an outlook that thinks East Asian features are ugly, but the fact that he was made fun of for it his whole life is definitely racism/classism.

Love ya! <3

The veiled racism thing is definitely more debatable, but the veiled classism isn’t even veiled lol. I think we can all agree on that.

But I do agree, the yellowish tint of his skin, along with his other features that are typically associated with East Asian people, also led people to wonder and headcanon that Snape was a POC. JKR has definitely included some very problematic stereotypes in her books (the Goblins, for example). I’m not sure if all of them were completely intentional, but they deliver harmful messages nonetheless. And honestly people calling Snape ugly or making fun of him for having said features is actually gross, like it’s fine if you hate the character, but there’s really no need to bring specific physical features into it.

Thanks for your ask!! Sorry I take too long with answering, but my body just refused to provide me with energy lol.

#severus snape #pro snape #pro severus snape #snape #anti snaters #harry potter #hp #ask #asks

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fineprintedsunsets · 1 year ago

Text

JAWBREAKER

This Is For Haunted Hoedown Day 1 | My Haunted Hoedown Master-List

Synopsis: Bucky's been hired to watch you as a favor to his best friend; your father. But when a game of spin the bottle has Bucky choking on his words, he just can't help himself anymore.

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: age gap (both are consenting adults). dbf!bucky x f reader. mentions of violence against others (nothing undeserved) jealous bucky. unprotected sex. (wrap it before you tap it.) dirty talk. possessive bucky. p in v sex. is a hired bodyguard a stalker? maybe? idk. lots of praise + pet names.

taboo au + "this is fucked up" "you like it"

How Bucky ended up at a Halloween party for drunk teenagers was a mystery. A ghost-themed one at that. Kids who he wasn't even sure should be drinking clutched red solo cups filled with various alcohol, laughing obnoxiously and passing hushed whispers.

He rolled his eyes.

Teenagers.

He was sent here by your father, and although he loved the man (practically his best friend) this was the one event he regretted agreeing to accompany you to. You were 19, and why you wanted to go to a ghost-themed party with sixteen and seventeen-year-olds was beyond him.

Nevertheless, he agreed to supervise you for your father's sake. The second he steps foot through the frilly-decorated entrance, he smells the overpowering scent of marijuana and Axe cologne.

Thank god he didn’t grow up in an era where boys would wear that shit and think they were the coolest fuckers around. His nose turns up, turning to its source. It was indeed three teenage boys with what must have been a gallon of gel in their hair and crooked smiles splayed on their features.

They accompany a girl at the table, he can't see her features due to the blocking backs of the boys, but he can see one of them lift their fingers to brush ever so slightly against her arm.

The girl moves away, and when she does, Bucky's eyes catch on her.

It’s you, his best friend's daughter. He tries hard not to let his eyes linger on you, knowing he has only one job here tonight, and it’s to keep you out of harm's way. There was only one problem with that. Your father kept most of his work life hidden away from his wife and since he worked with a lot of cruel people, he decided not to involve you either.

Which means you had never met his best friend. You didn’t even know he had one. Bucky was sent here to watch you from afar, your dad didn’t want you to know he sent someone to supervise you every single time you went out.

You pass the boy a look, awkwardly shaking your head. You attempt to laugh it off and walk away, but the boy grabs your wrist. Bucky bristles where he stands against a wall, having just entered.

He can’t approach you, he couldn’t risk you finding out who he was. But oh how he wanted to break all twenty-eight of Jelly Hair’s pitiful knuckles.

“Let go, Jake.” You growl out, but Jelly Hair won’t let up, wrapping his digits around your tiny wrist and forcing you to sit back down. It angers him, how the other boys he’s sitting with laugh at his antics.

A loud crunching sound echoes from someone over at your table and Bucky leans away from the wall, getting ready to intercept, thinking he may have hit you. He should be ashamed of the anger that blossoms through his chest.

Jake’s fingers slip from your wrist as the other boys jump up. Jelly Hair turns toward the door where Bucky is standing, allowing him to spectate the blood now running from his nose.

He can’t help the smile that graces his features.

You hit him.

“My girl” Bucky finds himself whispering. He tucks his hand in his pockets, moving away from the entrance and more profound into whoever's house this is. White lights flash from the rooms as music blares from speakers in the living room.

Everyone is dressed like a ghost, some people; like you are wearing a t-shirt that displays a cute drawing of a supernatural creature. Others wear sheets with glasses placed overtop of them, or uneven eye-holes cut out of the white fabric.

Bucky grabs a solo cup and fills it up with Cola, the only non-alcoholic drink on the ping-pong table. His metal fingers grip the cup and bring it to his lips, only to spit it back into the cup.

“What the fuck.” He mutters, scrunching his face in distaste. He does a double take on the bottle, bringing the contents up to his nose, Rum.

It’s fucking Rum Coke.

He takes the cup anyway, having no intention to sip from it anymore. He blends in this way, holding a solo cup just like the other hundred people here. His blue eyes search for you in the crowd, spotting you right away, your body settled on the lap of a man, early 20’s he’d say.

A feeling he’s all too familiar with when it comes to you surges through his veins, seeing the white skirt you're wearing hike up, allowing him and everyone else to see his hand knead at your ass.

Bucky’s jaw clenches as he watches you lean into the man, your lips wrapping around his, your eyes closing. Bucky has no idea who he is, but whoever he is, his dick is growing hard under you, having very clear intentions of what he’s about to do. And Bucky will be damned if he allows you to get fucked by this piece of shit.

Not that it should matter to him. You should have a man that would treat you right, protect you, pleasure you. Not this dick-wad who wants a quick fuck. Your father wanted him to keep you out of trouble, and that’s exactly what he’s doing.

At least, it’s what he tells himself.

Bucky watches for a few more seconds as you rub yourself over his cock, painfully humping it. He knows you aren’t getting any pleasure out of it, it’s evident on your face. The dick-wad beneath you is, and that’s what makes Bucky’s fingers ball into tight fists, making him grind his teeth down again, on the verge of breaking his goddamn jaw.

That’s what you were.

A fucking jawbreaker, surely you were smarter than this. You had to have known you were worth so much more. You had to know dick-wad couldn’t make up for a quarter of that amount.

“Spin the bottles starting downstairs!” A girl announces from the banister. She’s drunk, very drunk, Bucky notices. She also must be the owner of the way her fingers wrap around the railing.

He could just tell.

Bucky feels the relief flood his chest when you turn away from the man, clearly seeing a good excuse for escape. He growls but lets you go as he soon follows suit. Bucky has no interest in watching you play spin the bottle, but of course, he has not all a choice.

He couldn’t decide whether it was his job, (why he was here in the first place, he’s had to repeat that to himself a few times throughout the night.) Or because he didn’t want to watch a bunch of horny teenagers shove their fucking tongues down your throat, heat bloomed in his chest, mixing with anger.

Either way, he would have to break more than fourteen knuckles tonight.

✪

Bucky’s already taken his place on the wall, going unnoticed as the kids gather around in a circle, sitting with their legs crossed, fixated on the bottle that is situated in the middle.

You sit on the right side, next to some other girls he recognizes.

Women.

You were 19 years old for god sake.

The woman from earlier, the owner of the house, Bucky had now learned the name of, Jess plops next to the man from earlier, her eyes analyzing all the players. Other people stand, just here to spectate the game, giving Bucky plenty of cover.

“We need one more player!” Her voice slurs, looking up from her sitting position, searching for the correct person to fill the gap right across from you. Your eyes search around with Jess’s until both pairs land on him.

No.

Absolutely fucking not.

“What’s your name?”

Bucky grinds his teeth together again, he’ll be very surprised if he has teeth after tonight.

“James.” He grits out, trying his very best to seem like he doesn't want to be here. Which isn’t very hard.

He doesn't.

“You look a bit old to be here, James.” Jess' eyes roam the others, looking for the attention she so desperately wants. The others let out faux chuckles. Bucky can still feel your eyes burning through his, even though over fifty pairs are now aimed at him, you stick out.

You always have.

“Who invited their dad, guys?” Jess pokes again, her ghastly features twisting in a terrible laugh. Other people laugh now, but Bucky doesn’t mind. You don’t laugh, your features scrunch at Jess’s words. The man didn’t look old at all, older than a teenager sure, he was quite handsome.

“Come on, James. Join us!” You call, and the man's eyes immediately meet yours. You can’t help yourself, you gasp at the intensity of them, the beautiful blue irises that stare back at you.

Bucky still didn’t move from the wall, it was very evident he had no choice in this matter. “A little party never killed anybody, James.” Jess’s cat-like mouth squeaks.

“Bucky-” He corrects, heaving a sigh. “Just Bucky.” Bucky walks over to the circle, watching the gathering crowd part. Allowing him to sit like the rest of them, occupying the spot across from you.

“Let’s get started, Anon, Why don’t you spin first?”

Anon, a very stereotypical frat boy reaches for the bottle, his companions cheering behind him. The glass spins as everyone's eyes follow it, even Bucky’s.

The end lands on Jess, which is ironic. Bucky is checking off his mental checklist, he’s no matchmaker but..

Obnoxious Voices. Check. Annoying Presence. Check. Feline Like Faces. Check. Rich Pieces Of Shit. Check.

Those two were made for each other.

The two kiss awkwardly, the whole crowd kicking and screaming taunts, acting like children who just touched a deceased insect. Bucky settles into the hard-concrete floor, getting ready for a very excruciating game.

✪

It’s about an hour before you finally get the bottle in your hands. Everyone waits on bated breath as you capture your bottom lip between your teeth. You grab the bottle and spin, watching the glass glide across the concrete floor.

It clicks and clanks before it stops, and the endpoints to the stranger.

The older man that’s been stuck to the wall the whole party. You’ve never seen him before but were quite intrigued when you caught him looking at you during the game, pretending as if he wasn't.

The stranger's eyes flick open, looking at the end pointed towards him and then where you sit across from him. You smile to yourself as Bucky stays in his position.

The chanting starts when Jess’s voice echoes through the room, “You have to kiss the old man!” She’s 20, but acts like a five-year-old.

“Kiss!”

People around you repeat, and so you do the only logical thing to do. You place your hands in front of you and crawl to Bucky, knowing full well your skirt is riding up as you do so.

You can see his jaw clenching. You arrive in front of him, propping yourself up on your knees, Bucky's eyes look up at where you slightly tower over him.

You reach your fingers to graze his jaw, and when your fingers meet his subtle, the fifty pairs of eyes disappear. Right now, it’s just you and him. “Come here.” You mutter, bringing his face to yours.

Bucky hesitates, but lets it happen anyway. He’s captivated by you, you can tell. He wants to pull away but can’t.

Time seems to slow as your eyes close and your noses touch, stopping before letting your lips meet each other. Heat builds in your stomach, anticipation and want bubbling deep inside your core.

“This is fucked up.” He whispers, his breath grazing your wet lips.

“You like it.” You answer, before pulling his face to yours, your lips colliding in perfect harmony. Heat fills your stomach, settling itself between your thighs. Bucky’s hand comes up to cup your scalp, molding his palm to your head, crushing his lips against yours.

Your tongue slides into his mouth, entangling with his own. Your breath heaves as your stomach urges for more, your thighs pressing together in your kneeling position. You pull away before you can go any farther, breath heaving, a string of saliva still connecting your puffy lips.

The words that exit his mouth are barely audible, but you catch them. “That’s why it’s fucked up.”

“Get a room, lovebirds,” Jess calls, laughing with the others. But you ignore them, your eyes are still pulled into that trance, still feeling Bucky’s lips on yours.

The next thing you know, Bucky is getting up, his hand reaching for your own. You gulp at his gaze now, seeing the intensity switch to something different.

Something primal.

✪ Somehow you ended up in a closet, with Bucky’s breath fanning over your neck, his cock painfully straining against his jeans. It took all but four seconds for your clothes to be off, Bucky’s joined yours short after, pooling on the floor of the large closet.

“Sweetheart-” Bucky sounds breathless as he reaches out, his metal hand (which you okay with, apparently) running down the curve of your breast, dipping in your bra to twirl a cool digit around your semi-hard peak. (Especially when they made you feel like that.)

“How old are you?” You press, moaning as Bucky’s other hand cups your waist, making sparks fly up and down your skin. This closet, which is bigger than the master bedroom, has suddenly gotten small.

Bucky fights the urge to smack your ass in response, you didn’t care about age when you were grinding on that man’s cock.

“106.” He answers thoughtfully, but you only laugh, catching he wasn’t going to tell you his age. Bucky’s face scrunches in wonder, but it quickly fades when you press your body into his own, running your smooth fingers over his muscled abdomen.

“You sure you want to do this, baby?”

“Positive.”

Bucky brings your lips to his, all while taking hold of your hips, backing you into one of the closet's white walls. You engrossed in his touch, the feel of his fingers on your bare stomach, pushing you against the wall.

“I’d make you hump my cock, ‘show you what real pleasure is. But there’s no couch in here, sweet girl.” You feel your pussy clench at his words, you hadn’t known he was watching you then.

“Just gonna have to take me bare,” Bucky mutters, his hands grabbing your back, flipping you around so your palms are planted above you, your ass jutting out. His fingers knead at the meat of your ass, making sure to erase any hand-prints dick-wad may have left. You moan, bucking into his touch, wanting more.

“Greedy girl, you think you deserve my cock? Bare, too? You think you can handle that type of pleasure?” His fingers ghost over your panties, barely hitting your clit.

“Bucky! Please.”

Bucky smiles, knowing what he’s doing to you. If he wasn’t about to fuck you in a closet at a party he would tease you a lot more, and make you pay for letting that man touch you. You both knew you couldn’t wait that long, and neither could he.

Bucky pulls down your panties, noticing how your slick coats the fabric. “These are drenched, all for me, hmm?” He was so hesitant at first, to kiss and touch you, but now he didn’t give a shit.

You were his now.

Your panties soon joined the rest of your clothes. Bucky’s breath caught when he looked down at you, making your thighs clench together. He runs a metal finger through your folds, collecting your slick.

You cry out from the spark of pleasure, attempting to keep yourself up against the wall.

“You're so wet for me, sweet girl.” You feel lightheaded as Bucky releases himself from his boxers, you can’t see anything, only the white paint of the wall.

You can feel his tip nudge at your entrance, as he leans down, placing soft kisses along your back. “I’m gonna fill you up, baby. Okay? You want to be filled with my cock?”

“Yes!” You buck your hips, your eyes tightly closed as you feel his cock slide itself to the hilt, using your gathered arousal to aid in his thrust. You cry out, the stretch is both painful and pleasurable. Bucky groans, feeling the way you clench around his cock, feeling the tightness of your cunt.

“That’s it, sweet girl. Taking me so well.” For a few moments, you just stand there, Bucky letting you adjust to his cock, to the feeling of being filled up completely. You had sex before, plenty of it, but you never took a guy bare.

But Bucky, the way his cock sat inside of you, not even moving and it still shooting sparks into your stomach, was something you’d never thought you’d experience.

“Can I move, baby? You alright?” You nod your head while Bucky places another kiss on your back, pulling his cock out to the tip, and pushing back in.

“Ahh-”

“Feel good, sweetgirl?” Words simply do not exist anymore, Bucky whispers against you with each thrust of his cock, his movements slow at first, allowing you to take the most pleasure out of it, trying so hard not to cause you any pain.

The wet noises of your body's meeting over and over again fill the air, and somehow it drowns out the music of the party. Bucky’s groans and your moans tangle together as you buck your hips to meet his thrust, accommodating his cock.

“So good, baby.” You clench at his words, milking his cock. Bucky smiles, looking down at you.

Bucky’s metal arm comes around your bare stomach, making your thighs fall open wider, “Like when I praise you? Your pretty little pussy loves when I tell her she’s doing a good job, baby.”

A single digit finds your clit, Bucky rubs at it, slow tantalizing circles as you buck into him.

“I want you to come on my cock, I need to see this pussy clench around me harder.” Your body involuntarily does as he asks, your cunt clenching down on his cock as his thrusts speed their tempo and his finger matches the torture at your clit.

“Fuck!” You cry out, feeling your orgasm stirring deep in your belly, the heat from the room going straight to your head, encasing you in its bubble.

“That’s it.” Bucky praises, dragging out both words, “Good girl, come for me.”

You do, moaning loudly as your orgasm rushes through your veins, as Bucky chases his release, making sure you get over the edge first. His breaths come out in pants as his cock pushes into your cunt at a punishing speed. “I wonder how your daddy would feel if he knew you just came on his best friend's cock.”

“What?”

#marvel #masterlist #fanfic #oneshot #fluff #smut #buckbarnes #bucky barns fanfiction #bucky x reader #buckybarnessmut #hauntedhoedownmasterlist #haunted hoedown #inklore #dbf!bucky #older man younger woman #consent

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hanahaki-disease · 27 days ago

Text

Paralyzed by My Own Will

Hell or High Water- Percy Jackson/DC crossover

Summary:

“For a moment, for a heart aching second, it was just like that first night Bruce found them.

For a moment, Percy could believe that everything would be alright.

But it’s not alright, Percy has to tell him. His dad has to know.”

Please go read “To Stand by Idly” before you read this. You don’t have to, but it’s helpful.

*******************************************

It was quiet at the top of Wayne Tower. Cold, too.

The wind cut through the protective gear he wore, making the hair on his arms stand and shivers run up his back. Autumn was on the horizon. It showed itself in the breeze once the sun went down, in the slowly, but surely, browning leaves in the trees. It was in the clearer nights that made the stars shine brighter the closer it got to winter.

The bow and arrow charm on his necklace felt colder against his skin at the thought. He undid the clasp in the back, the gloves making it a little difficult, but he managed. Green eyes inspected each and every single one of the additions. He thumbed them through the glove, letting his mind wander. Three beads, he counted, one charm cold to the touch, a singular sand dollar, and the fate of the world will be decided exactly one year from today. Three hundred and sixty five days to prepare his mind and skills for the war of the century. The war he might not survive.

In eight months, Percy would be the same age Jason had died. In eight months, Percy would be older than Jason had been in his first life. In eight months, Percy would live to see April twenty-eighth at the age of fifteen. Something Jason never had the chance of doing, his life cut short the day before and that haunted him since.

Two days ago, Jason turned eighteen. The prophecy never once influencing his actions and it’s dreams had never plagued his mind, keeping him awake. He’s never had to worry about what Percy has to; of red eyes following him in the shadows, of ancient names cursing him and wishing for his downfall, of the survival of his friends and peers against a force they never thought they’d go against.

A part of him is jealous that Jason never had to be the prophecy child. He didn’t have to worry about the fall of Olympus or the rise of Kronos as the Titans took over. He was even sure that Jason never had to worry about monsters going after him. He cant remember Jason interacting with one or even mentioning it back when he had been alive. Because Percy can remember all the crazy that’s happened to him. The cyclops stalking him his first year in Brentwood academy, the shadow of a winged horse on a rooftop in the distance, even the uneasy feelings of being watched he would get before and after Bruce had taken them in. But, had Jason ever felt like that? Did he ever see it?

Maybe he hadn’t, after all the prophecy was clear to point out that it wouldn’t be him. Jason had never been a candidate to save the world, much like Thalia wasn’t since they both died before they even reached sixteen. And here he was, not even a day into fifteen and his future hanging in the balance.

There was also another part of him still that believed that he wouldn’t see the age of sixteen, like Jason had. That something would happen to him on the cusp of his birthday and he’d join the fallen campers and his mother in the underworld bellow. Maybe, if he joins them, by his own volition or by accident, either one works, he could finally get to know her. He could know what her voice sounds like and how she smiles. And they’d be dead yeah, but then he’d be able to know what her hugs felt like.

That was also something Percy envied his big brother for: he knew what their mom looked like. He had been old enough to develop memories and, while they not be totally accurate since he was six the last time he saw her, they were memories nonetheless. Jason knew what her voice sounded like, how her eyes crinkled when she smiled, and everything else Percy didn’t know.

He looked down at the street below him. Late night city-goers went about their activities; a girls night, a college party, a heist or robbery. It was pretty far. A good hundred stories maybe, a little under a hundred? He should probably know this, he’s been allowed inside the building for years and Bruce let him wander arou—

Percy’s heart tightened at the thought of his adoptive father, at the strained relationship they had now.

It wasn’t even that long ago that Percy was clinging to him like a koala all because Bruce was strong enough to hold him without trouble. Wasn’t that long ago that Bruce would tuck him into bed as he did every night before he went patrolling. When Bruce would rough house with him and Jason on the training mats all because he could, because he wanted to.

Percy can’t remember his mother’s laughter, but he knows Bruce’s. It was loud. It boomed and kicked up the pitch of his voice just a tad. His lips would curl back into a wide smile, the corners of his eyes would crinkle, and for a second the weight of Gotham would vanish off his shoulders. Percy remembers the rumble of his chest when he laughed. When Bruce would snatch him up with a hug, squeeze him tight till Percy—and Jason if he was fast enough to catch the teen—squealed with delight.

Gods, what he wouldn’t give for a hug from his dad right now.

With everything that’s happened, and everything that’s going to happen, Percy felt like he had no control of his own life anymore. He had no choice but to become the prophecy child since the other two died before it, he couldn’t give it to the younger two candidates since one of them is dead (his fault) and the other ran away (also his fault) and isn’t even twelve yet. He can’t help out with the vigilante part of his life since he himself isn’t one of them, and even then, he hasn’t really helped with any cases or investigations since his first summer at camp.

He’s helped Alfred patch them up, yes, but actively partake in the cases? He hasn’t done that in a while. Percy wouldn’t even know where to start. Not to mention whatever it was that Dick was doing in Blüdhaven or Jason down in Crime Alley. So it’s not like he could just pack a bag and help them. He doesn’t want them to be caught in the crossfire of a monster fight.

Percy hasn’t even told Jason he was a demigod yet! He has not even hinted at it once! He could’ve told Jason when they had talked a few weeks ago, but the thought completely slipped his mind in the jumbled mix of emotions because his brother was alive again. And once that jumbled mix had straightened itself again, once Jason had hugged him goodbye and headed back to Crime Alley to avoid Bruce, Percy had come to the realization that he also had to tell Bruce about him being a demigod too.

If he tells Bruce,then he has to tell Jason and Dick and Babs and Alfred as well. And of course Stephanie and Cassandra will have to know, too. Maybe Aunt Kate will want to be informed as well, same thing with Mr Fox and Luke, since they work on their weapons and gadgets. They’d need to know what Percy can use and what attracts monsters to most. Oh, and then Tim knows, wouldn’t he get in trouble with Bruce? Bruce would be upset that Tim knows what Percy, and subsequently Jason, is. He’d be upset that Tim knew before he did. He’d be mad at Percy for not telling him sooner, for keeping it a secret for this long. Bruce would take Robin away from Tim because of this wouldn’t he? Bruce would strip the one thing Tim had busted his ass for all because Percy trusted him before Bruce. Would Bruce be mad that Percy didn’t trust him with this? Would he—

Percy snapped up to a defense stance when he heard the shuffling of feet behind him. Fists raised to guard his head, body lowered and knees bent to attack if needed, and his chest heaving from his racing thoughts.

Though he lowered his hands and stood like normal, Percy didn’t let his guard down at the sight of Batman. His cape draped over him and hid his body, the lights of the city was enough to help Percy make out his chin and the whites of his cowl. He didn’t speak to Percy when he walked out of the shadows, nor did he acknowledge him when he made his way to the edge of the rooftop and sat himself down.

But then he pulled down his cowl, black hair lighting up in a reflection of the city from the sweat he builds up, turned his head to Percy, and patted the concrete next to him.

There was a struggle within him. The seven year old that loved his dad and the twelve year old who hated him. One side wanted to run up and join him, wrap himself up in the warmth of the cape, lean his head on his shoulder like he’s done before, and just be. But the other was urging him to turn his back to the man, slip into the shadows he had sprung from, forsake the affection being offered, and leave.

Gods, why was this so hard?! Why did he have to care about him so much! He shouldn’t! Percy shouldn’t care about whatever Bruce was going to talk to him about, shouldn’t care about the olive branch being offered! Percy should take a page out of Jason’s book. Become an anti-hero, terrorize the bad guys of Gotham, gain Bruce’s perpetual annoyance at his methods, and then the man would leave him alone. But, now that he thought about it does Bruce really leave Jason alone?

How many times has Percy seen Bruce’s tracker at the edge of the Narrows, the red dot stagnant for a good few minuets before moving back towards the rest of Gotham. No doubt he was talking to Jason, or just watching over him from a far, close enough to show concern but far enough to not seem over bearing. The invisible barrier Bruce was willing to stand up to but not cross, the one he’s willing to wait at forever long it takes.

Was this Percy’s line? The line he didn’t know he drew, the one Bruce was standing on the other side of. Like camp and the barrier, Bruce could see but never enter.

He glanced down at the sand dollar on his camp necklace, the only gift he’s ever received from his father for his birthday in all his fifteen years of life. The father who doomed him and his brother’s life from the start. Who didn’t care about him till he needed his name cleared and to do his bidding. When he first got claimed by Poseidon, he wondered if the absent god for a father would step up a little, he never did though. And like humans who worshiped them, the gods of Olympus were flawed as well.

They made mistakes, regrets. They wished and hoped, they—though rarely—admitted their wrongs. And here was a man who could go up against most minor gods and win. A man who knew this city like the back of his hand, who can defeat the justice league in a heartbeat, who could kill if he so wished but chose not to …And here he was, admitting his faults and his regrets to Percy.

“I…” Bruce began when Percy lowered himself onto he concrete, his necklace still in his hand and his domino in the other. If Bruce wanted to be unmasked for this, then Percy would return the same courtesy.

“After my parent’s death, I’d never thought I’d have children,” he said. “I didn’t want to put them in harms way or risk them loosing me the same way I lost my parents.”

“But then I had Dick,” Bruce smiled, “And he was angry and little and—I couldn’t not take him in when I knew how he felt. I knew that if I hadn’t taken him in, he’d be another rogue on the street or a Talon in the Court.” There was a lightness to him as he spoke of his eldest, recalling the memories of when their family of six had only been three. “At first he was just my ward, a child of the state I took in to make sure he didn’t go down the right path. Then he became my son and he’s been my son ever since.”

“Eight years ago when I found you and your brother,” Bruce looked out at the city. Percy could see the words swimming in his head, looking for the proper order to put them in. “I knew from the first moment that Jason was my son, no doubt about that.” Oh, ouch. Percy tried not to wince when his heart did the weird stab thing when he gets sad.

“But you, Percy?” He looked up at the sound of his name. Carefully, as if Bruce was trying to not spook a bird, he reached out his gauntlet and brushed back the long bangs Percy was too lazy to cut. “You are my baby, and I have loved you as if you were my son since you made me promise to never hurt you.”

Percy could feel his vision blur as tears began to well up. “And I broke that promise, many times, without even realizing I did because I was trying to keep you safe, and I am sorry.”

“Losing Jason was one of the worst days of my life, but to loose you? If I had lost you, Percy, I could never recover,” Bruce admitted. “I pushed you away because I thought that if I kept you close you would get hurt too. That something would rip you away from me and I’d be helpless to stop it.”

Guilt was beginning to build Percy’s stomach. There was something that could rip him away, though. Something that Percy has been fighting against for the past three years, in a war that would end a year from today. How was he supposed to tell Bruce about the monsters now? That every time he leaves the manor or camp, he’s hunted down and attacked almost twice a month all because of his father. All because he wasn’t supposed to exist.

He could feel the corners of his mouth twitching downwards, the tears he’s been trying to hold back had won the fight and rolled down his cheeks. And his lungs, that had finally returned to a normal breathing rhythm after his little attack earlier, began to sputter and refuse to work properly as he cried.

Bruce wrapped his arms around him, tugging the cape over Percy as he held him close. One hand held black fabric closed, entrapping the warmth inside and kept the cold out. The other cradled the back of his head, patting down the windswept hair.

For a moment, for a heart aching second, it was just like that first night Bruce found them. When he lifted Percy into his arms, guided Jason by his hand, and drove them to their new home. The days where Percy’s feet didn’t touch the ground when he got scared and the nightmares could be brushed away with a kiss on the forehead and a cup of cocoa.

For a moment, Percy could believe that everything would be alright.

But it’s not alright, Percy has to tell him. His dad has to know. Because what if he needs Batman’s help in the fight on the mortal front. To wrangle and help civilians, to keep rogues and villains away from the real fight. In case something were to go wrong and Percy would need his dad.

“Dad, I,” Percy leaned back from the hug, the cold of the oncoming autumn made his wet cheeks freeze. “I…There’s something I need to tell you.”

“Anything, son,” Bruce said.

“It’s—It’s about my father,” Percy looked down at the necklace, the sand dollar unassuming and innocent despite it’s origins and it’s intention. “Mine and Jason’s father, actually.”

*******************************************

So??? How we feeling?? Was it as angsty as I promised? Was not angsty enough??

This was a long time coming, I know, and I really hope you’re all satisfied while reading this. I had to rewrite their conversation a few times because it never really felt quite right, and I still think that it could be better or maybe Bruce could’ve said more, but, it is what it is.

And I hope it doesn’t make it look like Bruce is/was just making up an excuse for his past actions. Because keep in mind, since Percy came back to Gotham after TLT, Bruce has been and still is making up his past actions to Percy. And progress isn’t linear, people can and will make mistakes (*cough* Jason’s return *cough*)

But, I digress.

Thank you so much for reading!! I hope you all like it!!

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When tumblr lets me link stuff again, I’ll link everything

#percy jackon and the olympians #dc comics #pjo x dc #batman fanfiction #percy jackson fanfiction #percy jackson #bruce wayne #batman #jason todd

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kindaasrikal · 8 months ago

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I FINISHED MY ZANE DRAWING

He was originally not gonna have pants cause i didnt find it weird since he is still a metal man, but then i realised others might take it a bit weirdly so i had to quickly add pants 😭

ANYWAYS BACKGROUND:

Zane is known to sacrifice himself for those he cares about, and it shows how deeply protective he is of his team/family. In an AU, if that protectiveness got a bit too strong…mixed a bit too much with his care…he becomes secretly obsessive. He stalks the ninja when away from him and is constantly keeping tabs on them, his relationship with them is similar to canon, but he always makes sure to know where they are and their health. None of the ninja, including Pixal and Wu, have any idea of this going on, and they never will.

He watched over the ninja (plus Pixal and Wu) in a little area in his room, and watches memories and current events they’re going through daily. His love for them all is platonic (romantic for Pixal), and as much as he is aware that watching-stalking- his family is not normal nor okay, he does it since he only ever ensures he knows what they are doing at all times, and that isn’t too bad, right?

(Wrong, its still bad, Zane just worried and cares too much to bring himself to stop)

In this AU, if his team were to find out, i feel like they’d be concerned but accepting. Like bro it’s ZANE, they trust him more than anyone. They put limits to it and rules, but other than that they let him keep doing it. In fact, this allows them to freely do the possibly stalker-ish activities they do freely.

Kai says that sometimes he tracks or follows then when he’s worried.

Nya bugged everyone’s gi with recording and tracking devices. She listens to conversations sometimes if shes suspicious (read: worried).

Jay has books on all of the ninja, and the notes are deeply personal and downright creepy.

Cole hunts down everyone one of team mates might’ve met or known, acts like he accidentally bumped into them, and slowly weeds information out of them related to them as a person and their intentions. If they’re a close friend to his teammate/s, he gets information out about their interactions of conversations.

Lloyd follows everyone. Whilst Kai probably jumps from buildings, and leaves after knowing it’s ok (most of the time), Lloyd follows on ground with a disguise. He learns the others interests and picks then up himself to bond with them, not realising that picking up the exact same comic jay just touched and hugging it whilst thinking Jay would love him if he got this and read it is kinda creepy.

Pixal bugs all of their tech, she knows every location, every conversation, and has many recordings. She never checks them though. What she does do is read their conversations through text, she likes gathering information about the ones she loves, and likes the drama that pops up sometimes.

Wu is normal, he’s like an overbearing dad who just interrogates his team with gentle words and they spill. Either that or he already knows, by guessing.

And because i need to add Morro to everything, Wu is overbearing because of not knowing everything Morro does because if he did he might’ve been able to prevent what happens.

And when Morro was younger, he used to hide behind corners and watch people, never letting them know he’s there. He never followed them, but if he’s already there and he sees you, he’s watching you in a corner until either has to leave or you do.

But thats child Morro, ghost (cursed realm) Morro pulls a Zane and watches people, so does Garmadon in the departed realm.

BUT RESURRECTED MORRO?

Yeah, he’s the only normal one. After everything he just became tame and couldn’t care anymore. He was a bit freaked out when Lloyd comes up to him two weeks later and says “you rlly like reading about horror stories, right?” Because they both have been avoiding each other and only had five normal conversations, and not a single one was casual, so how the heck did Lloyd know that.

Anyways that was fun :>

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sullina · 1 month ago

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one of my favourite scenes in the first httyd movie is where Hiccup has to go into the village at night WITH Toothless in tow bc of the metal getting bent and him being unable to unhook himself from Toothless after a fall.

Because during essentially the entire bonding time between Hiccup and Toothless, the viking village had significantly less vikings in it. Stoick and a bunch of others were searching for the dragon nest, after all, and Gobber didn't seem to be keeping a particularly close eye on him either.

Which is also how Hiccup was able to work so freely on Toothless' new tailfin, both in the forge and at home (remember the many drawings he had on his desk and wall during the breast helmet scene?).

And i just picture like a fanfic or something where instead of just a quick scene, that moment of Hiccup taking a fucking Nightfury that was his FRIEND into the "kill all dragons on sight" village and having to get away with it.

Or Toothless, growing bored on his own and wanting to fly with Hiccup, sneaking into the village on his own to get Hiccup, bc he hasn't visited in a few days or something. Like, i know that would make Toothless stupid as hell and he's not stupid. You know actually maybe scratch that one.

Or imagine an au where, after Hiccup has already bonded with Toothless, a few dragon raids happen and the village notices that the Nightfury hasn't been with them in any of them, so they DO end up searching where Hiccup said to, and Hiccup joins the search, but in the hopes of KEEPING them from discovering Toothless, obviously. And with Hiccup having a habit of running off on his own, Stoick and/or Gobber are intent on keeping an eye on him. But also bc Hiccup's kinda the only one who has any clue where the nightfury could've landed, so...

And while the grove is fairly hidden, the search party closes in on it eventually bc vikings are stubborn as hell, leading up to Hiccup having to find a way to slip away and Get Toothless Out Of There by riding him. But a black dragon in broad daylight is very noticeable and there's not really any direction to get out of the grove but up.

(the same would apply to the test flight scene, but to be fair they were like MILES above the island and away from the village, so yeah that's not that unrealistic that they weren't spotted)

And this one is reaching into crack fic territory, but another fic where the nightfury reveal doesn't happen, neither with Astrid nor the rest of the village, so Hiccup, with not really anything better to do, decides to pull some pranks on the village with Toothless's help. Mostly on Snotlout. He gets some really good character development in the series, but yeah no he's kind of a jerk at the start.

Another fic where Hiccup bonds with not only Toothless, but also the other dragons in the arena and, this one has a bit of an angsty twist, he decides to leave the village entirely, revealing himself as "the lord of dragons" or something and leaves with a bang, taking every dragon with him, branding himself as a traitor to his village. This one has probably been done before, i won't lie.

And of course I'm always a slut for some capital-A Angst where Hiccup decides to just disappear with Toothless at the earliest opportunity, having decided that there's nothing left for him at the village, while Stoick is away in the search for the nest. Stoick would be fucking destroyed, man, first his wife dies and then his son disappears without a single trace. He just went missing, like he ran away, but that doesn't make sense bc they live on an island and all boats are accounted for. Stoick fears the worst.

Meanwhile, Hiccup is living isolated from humans, but getting along with dragons, but he may not have left the Archipelago, perhaps too anxious to go so far away from what he's known, perhaps he feels guilty over just leaving his dad behind like that, without even so much as a note.

When Hiccup wasn't found on Berk anywhere, and all his stuff was gone too (well most of it anyway), Stoick refused to believe that his only son was dead. Most others accepted that the heir to the village was gone...

Until some of the ships spot a human on a dragon and swear by Odin that the human looked an awful lot like their lost heir. From then on, Stoick becomes an absent chief, always out searching for his son, who, to his knowledge, may or may not be still out there.

Hiccup tries his best to avoid the viking ships for obvious reasons, but he'd be lying if he said he didn't kinda want to see his dad again. The guilt was eating him up inside and every single day he's been wondering if he made the right choice. Eventually, he decides to let Stoick find him on an island, and decides to tell him. He wonders if it's the right decision, but he couldn't forget the haunted look his father had the first time they both locked eyes after years of being apart.

Honestly, i don't know how this one would go. After years of sorrow, Stoick might be more accepting of dragons if Hiccup does his introduction right and eases into it. Or he might do some mental gymnastics and think that the dragons somehow brainwashed his son into betraying his people. Dunno how that would work, but i doubt Stoick would really be in the right mind after years of thinking his only son might be dead.

#httyd #httyd1 #how to train your dragon #it's 4am i need to go to bed omg #if someone wants to take some of these up and write a fic btw you're 100% welcome to #just tag or message me bc i'm GONNA wanna read it!#hiccup and toothless #hiccup horrendous haddock lll #httyd hiccup #httyd toothless

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climbthemountain2020 · 4 months ago

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Still Beautiful Things

Happy Eris Week! @erisweekofficial

It's my very first Eris Week, and I have something for every single day! As always, thank you for the beta reads @cauldronblssd @witch-and-her-witcher

Eris Week Day 1: Bonds | Bargains | Ao3

[After a horrible morning, young Eris makes a bargain with the person he trusts most in the world.]

And I've been meaning to tell you

I think your house is haunted

Your dad is always mad and that must be why

And I think you should come live with

Me and we can be pirates

Then you won't have to cry

Or hide in the closet

And just like a folk song

Our love will be passed on

“Eris?”

He heard her whispered voice before he saw her, and he let out a breath he'd been holding. He'd been afraid it was his father’s guard looking for him; perhaps Beron had decided that his punishment hadn't been enough. The terror in his chest hadn't quite subsided yet. He took a deep breath to try and steady his pounding heart.

“Eris,” she hissed out, her voice still quiet in his chambers. He could see her through the cross hatches of the door, her dark hair pulled back in a white bow and swishing down her back as she trotted over to look under his bed on quiet feet.

It wasn't a secret what happened in the Forest House–not to the Lady of Autumn, and not to the heir either.

“I'm here, Aida.” He kept his voice low, but cracked the wicker closet door open enough to give an invitation.

Nearly immediately, two dark eyes framed by long lashes were swimming in his vision as she popped her head through the door.

“Hi.” She pulled the rest of her body in, closing the door tightly behind them so the low light flickered in on them in miniscule squares, a checked pattern dotting her pale skin.

“Hi.”

“How'd you know?”

Aida smiled sadly, her rounded cheeks shifting with the movement. “My mother.”

Aida Franc’s mother was one of the court ladies of Autumn, and his mother's best friend. Of course she'd already known what was happening today, likely having already seen his mother with the gash along her arm. Hopefully, she'd healed it. Hopefully, he'd bought her time when he'd drawn Beron’s ire to himself.

“I told him to leave her alone,” Eris ground out, the venom and hatred barely overcoming the exhaustion in his voice. Beron would call this weakness, and he’d be right. Aida grabbed his arm and he winced, her brown eyes widening and then narrowing at his reaction.

“I hate him, Eris.” She spoke too loudly for the space they were in and Eris startled, putting a finger to her lips, cringing when he saw the blood still wet on his hand.

“You must be careful. If anyone ever heard you…”

Aida shook her head, her loose curls bouncing around her shoulders. “I don't care.” She lowered her voice at his frantic eyes. “I don't, Eris. What he does to you, to your mother, is wrong.”

To that, he had nothing to say. She was right, and he was embarrassed, the shame as hot as the big, fat tears beginning to slip down his face. He was nine; he knew he shouldn't cry like a baby any more. Beron had done everything he could and more to break him of the habit, but once they’d begun, he couldn’t stop them.

He wiped violently at the tears, his vision blurring before he remembered too late that the hand he’d wiped with was still covered in.

“Oh, come here.” Aida ripped the fabric of her skirt, tearing a sheet of it to wipe gently at his face.

“Your mother's going to have your hide for that,” he tried to joke, but the crack in his voice gave him away.

She scoffed. “She'll be with your mother well into the night. I doubt she'll notice.”

Their mothers were thick as thieves, having met in court when they were both new to the Forest House and immediately taking a liking to each other. Both married young, both from noble houses, and both pregnant with their first children, they'd become fast friends. Eris and Aida had been born within weeks of each other, and they had been tied at the hip since.

The difference between them, of course, was that Aida’s father loved her mother, dearly, deeply, and in the most profound way that a fae could love another: they were mates. Aida had been born from a union of love, not whatever cruel fate had bound Eris' parents together out of spite. Aida loved to tell Eris the story–her father had been visiting a foreign court on his own father's behalf when he'd stumbled–literally stumbled–into a rock hewn wall upon seeing her mother. He described her as a sparkling gem hidden in a mountain, and when her dazzling eyes had turned on him, the bond had snapped for them both. It was mere weeks before they were back in Autumn, and only months more before they were joyfully expecting Aida.

Perhaps that's why Aida always seemed to glow, to radiate joy, even when she was wracked with anger. She had been wanted, a treasure given from true love. Eris was only an heir, a means to an end, no love to be found between his mother and father.

“Have you ever thought about leaving?”

The words seemed to echo in the chamber of the closet, stretching out endlessly in the darkness.

“All the time. But there's nowhere to go.” He winced as she touched the cloth to his bleeding brow, then began working on his arm.

“What if I went with you?”

He'd thought about leaving, of course. Nearly every night as he tried to sleep, tried to convince himself that the nightmares at night were better than the ones he faced during the day.

He imagined running into the red and orange woods, the mists at his heels as he tore away into Prythian. But he'd never dared to dream that Aida might come, too.

“You couldn't, your parents–”

“Would find me again if we went to Night. You know I have family there.” She hadn’t met his eyes, but these weren’t answers that she was coming up with on the spot. Eris knew Aida, and that meant he could tell she’d thought this through.

His words were so quiet, just a whisper on his lips, that she wouldn’t have heard if she hadn’t been inches away. “They'd kill us if we were caught.”

“If we were caught.” Her brown eyes sparkled when she finally looked at him, the endless depths nearly black and twinkling with the stars of galaxies within them.

He considered. What if they left together? What of his mother? Would Beron kill her? Would he kill Aida’s parents if he pieced together how they'd fled? He squeezed his eyes shut.

“I can practically hear your thoughts spinning. It doesn't have to be today, Eris. Or even this year. We have all the time in the world.”

The thought calmed him.

“You would leave with me? Truly?” Even in the sparse light, he could see her wide grin stretching across her face.

“Of course, Eris. You're my best friend.” He couldn't help but smile back. She was his best friend, too–the first and only person he'd ever loved apart from his mother.

Aida tore another strip from her skirts, then paused, taking in Eris' bleeding palm.

“Here.” She gestured in the air, and was suddenly holding a knife with a jeweled hilt.

“You're getting better at that.”

She smiled wickedly. “I've been practicing stealing from the kitchens.”

He gasped when she moved her grip from the hilt to the blade, slicing a gash down her own palm then pressing it to his, intertwining their fingers tightly.

“I swear to you, Eris, we'll leave here one day. Somewhere your father won't find us. You and me.”

He could feel her warm blood leaking down his wrist where their hands had clasped, her dark determined eyes fixed on him. He felt the sharp sting of magic on his palm.

The wild grin hadn’t left her face as she pulled back and wiped at their palms, the wounds already nearly healed.

There, where the scars were, were matching identical marks. The skin was pink and delicate, smoothing around it before his very eyes, but it held a definite shape.

In both their palms was a star within a maple leaf, small enough to look like the remnants of a scraped hand acquired while playing.

He looked at her in the low, mottled light, her features bright and lovely even in the dark, and he thought about a life away from here. A life of adventure and new discoveries. A life with his best friend.

“You and me,” he echoed quietly, as her hand found his again.

The events of the morning were forgotten in the back of his mind, her hand back in his all that mattered.

Taglist for the week (Let me know if you want to be added or removed!)

@cauldronblssd @witch-and-her-witcher @chunkypossum @secret-third-thing @acourtofladydeath @the-darkestminds

#erisweek2024 #my very first!#eris x oc #eris vanserra #acotar fic #👑

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matthewkniesys · 1 year ago

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Congratulations, my sweet love. You deserve every single one and more. 🥹🥰 may I please request 🍄 with prompt #3 “If you wish to keep your fingers, I’d take your hands off them.” with Jack Hughes? Thank you so much!

thank you so much ily🫶

Jack Hughes x fem!reader

Jack is seething. And for no reason,too. Simply because you and Trevor have been hanging out all day on the boat.

You love spending your summers at the Hughes lake house and you have been since you were 19 and started dating jack. His mom and dad are great. His brothers are super cool. You love being around his friends since at this point they are all close to you too.

But Jack being the guy he is can't help but get jealous. And in the back of his mind he knows you would never do anything to hurt him, and especially not with any of his friends but he just can't help it. He wants all your attention to be on him 24/7.

So that brings us to why he is sulking around on the boat.

“Dude, what the fuck is wrong with you? Did you not get some last night or something?”

“Shut the fuck up, Luke.” Jack gazes longingly over at you and Trevor, wishing he could replace his best friend and be the one you’re laughing with.

“Hold up, Jack you aren’t jealous, right? “Oh you totally are. This is hilarious.” Luke laughs.

“I’m glad you find my misery entertaining, Luke.” Jack looks over at you once again, to see that you are now leaning into Trevor and laughing at something on his phone.

“Fuck.” Jack mutters, pulling at the ends of his hair.

“If you’re gonna be fucking pissy about this, just go over there Jack. She loves you so much so I don’t know why you’re so insecure.”

Jack didn’t know either. Neither you or Trevor had ever given him reason to be suspicious but still here he was. He just really didn’t want to lose you.

Jack watches Trevor as he wraps his arm around your shoulders to steady you while you’re shaking with laughter. There isn’t anything other than friendliness in his gesture but it sends Jack over the edge.

He marches over to you and Trevor and stands with a hand on his hip. He’s glaring daggers at the both of you. And he knows he isn’t being fair because there isn’t anything wrong with the two of you hanging out but Jack doesn’t want to share you.

“If you wish to keep your fingers, I’d take your hands off them.” Jack says, in a low, deep voice.

“Chill man, I’m not going for your girl. She’s just really fucking funny.”

Trevor realizes that wasn’t the right thing to say since it seemed to piss him off more.

“Trevor, fuck off let me hang out with my girl since you’ve been hogging her all day.”

Trevor leaves and Jack takes his spot. Gently you place your hands on his chest and turn to face him.

“Jack, what was that about? He’s your best friend and I know you know Trevor wouldn’t make a move on me.”

“I know,” Jack whines, “but he was just hogging all your attention and I wanted to hang out with you. You’re my favourite person in the world.”

“And you are mine. So you never have to worry about me picking anyone over you. You will always be my first choice.”

claires 1k follower celebration

#claires 1k celebration #claire tries writing <3 #jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #trevor zegras #brynn<33 #thanks for sending!

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polycrowtruther · 1 month ago

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“Jesper inherited his dimples from his father,” Kaz said softly, “Did you know that? The Fahey dimple has been running for five generations now. A-And Inej, she’s got this bow in her step. Her mother steps the same way. And Wylan, fuck, his freckles are everywhere. Just like his mom, she’s got the stars on her skin just like he does. And I think about this all, and I just wonder… What would their kids look like? What would they get? Would my pup have the Fahey dimple? Would my pup learn Suli, or Fjerdan, or maybe both? What would my pup like best, maths or science? Would… would my pup have a bow in their lips just like my dad did? I think about all of this and it guts me every time.”

Alina stirred her hot chocolate, feeling her friend's grief so deeply in her bones. She has had the same dreams, and she knows what comes next too. Kaz still forced himself to say it, anyway, because he wasn’t the kind of person to leave a story half-finished.

“I can’t bring a child into this world. I just - I - I can’t. Not with how it is now. You, well you have to, for the sake of Nikolai’s future. For all your futures, and I know that, and it’s a whole different brand of fucked up, but still. Inej was fourteen when she was sold off. Fourteen, Alina. I was nine when my life was destroyed. Matthias learned how to shoot straight before he even had his first kiss. Before he hit puberty. This world is not a kind one, not to us and certainly not to children, and I am not a kind person because of it. How could I ever bring something I love into it, into this?”

“I know, sweetheart,” Alina murmured, feeling tears bead against her lashes.

“But in the same way, how can I deny my pack that?” Kaz moaned, his head flopping down to rest against his arms with a loud thunk, “They all would be such good parents, show so much love to that child, and I do not deserve the right to deprive them of that chance just because I’m scared. This may be my only chance to carry a pup, but if a life is spared in a warzone is it really spared at all?”

Alina shook her head, unable to speak. Because every word Kaz had said was true. Already each fear he had voiced aloud had resonated within her long before she had discovered her own pregnancy. Every omega who grew old enough to understand what birth required lamented on these very ideas. What did it mean to be a mother? What did it mean to carry a child? She didn’t know, and she didn’t know how to ease her friend's pain either. She’d try her best though.

She cleared her throat, and spoke only what she believed, “I know, and it sucks. It really fucking sucks. The state of the world right now is nothing but ashes, and that flame was sparked because of every single person who has hurt us. Aleksander, Pekka, every faceless man who walks us by? Each one of them has the chance to ruin us.

"But after a forest fire, things heal. They always do. Nature is the first mother, and she shows us time and time again that her children are resilient. We are resilient. And when we become mothers we have to learn that all over again when our children go on to fight their own fight. But, although it’s all we have, we do have the power now to work towards what we feel is right, and one day we will make it so no one else has to ask these questions again. We have each other, Kaz, and we have our friends. If we stick together, life won’t always be a warzone. So if you are pregnant, then we will simply have to fight even louder to make this world a suitable place for our child to call home. And if you aren’t pregnant now, it doesn’t mean you’ll never have the chance to have a kid someday. You’ve got time, Kaz, and a lot of it. We all do. That’s what fighting so hard up till now has given us. The chance to keep fighting, and give what comes next their own running start.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

tldr that moment when you're writing Grishaverse ABO mpreg fic and it becomes such an allegory for the current soceopolitical state of the world that you get possessed by Mpreg Castiel to write poetry in said fic.

anyway Kaz may or may not be pregnant yall

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sun13koi · 3 months ago

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another vent uh it’s nothing major so I’ll put the cws I think might be needed just in case. No tags this time.

Cws for possible mentions of yelling, self expression suppression, mockery, copying, etc

In my family, it’s like I can’t do anything without a shitty half baked copy of it coming from my brother. TV shows? He has to watch them too. Friends who are at least twice his age? Too bad, his friends too in his opinion. Not even the stuff most kids find weird- therian masks and quadrobics? He’ll look like shit doing both, and won’t stop bragging about it. It feels like a mockery to my life, every time he copies me. He’s even flirted with my fucking boyfriend, who’s twice his age??? Wtf???

So as you may know, I got converse the other day. Y’know, the shoes that are popular because of art, embroidery, beads, and painting on them? That I bought specifically to do these things? My mom called it ‘ruining’ them. Like what? I’m sorry? First of all, I didn’t even do it on the fabric part of the shoe that would make it unable to be worn with the supplies I own. I painted on the white bits and the bottom. Also- I painted things that express ME. I painted trans flags, the paw lines on the top, theradelta(◯⃤), quotes, etc to express MYSELF- what I like, what makes up me, and what COMFORTS ME- and she called it ruining them. Now sure, If it were any other kind of shoe, if I hadn’t mentioned it before hand several times, if I hadn’t asked for permission, etc- I could see how it would VAGUELY be seen as that. But come on. This just felt like you were saying that my personality, beliefs, and lifestyle ruined me as a person, despite all of them being harmless. And to make matters worse, she’s even more upset because my brother who has NO sense of ‘just bc they did it doesn’t mean I have to’, decided to draw blobs that I can’t even recognize as things on his brand new Nikes.

Mine cost 20 and were an after thought. His cost 50, and he got two pairs. But when I craft on the thing I got to craft on, it’s RUINING them. Heh. Thanks, mom.

and if it were just this, I might have been a little upset, but this isn’t the first time, hence the examples I gave previously

and now despite me already doing all the research, she’s not letting me get a binder either. Even though we have a place that would give them out for FREE with CORRECT SIZING. I really don’t want to sound like a brat or picky. But is it just me, or does this feel really suppressing? I felt lucky I could get a camp halfblood shirt without her reading g every single Pjo book first.

In summery, my mom just indirectly called my self expression a waste of time, effort, and a pair of shoes, my brother can’t form an original idea and it’s made me possessive over everything and everyone I love, and I don’t know what to do <3

If you read this, uh… thanks. It means a lot to me that you’re willing to listen to this shit

and if you’re my online dad uhhh sorry for not just ranting to you like usual I don’t wanna ruin your ren faire day

EDIT: here are some photos of the ‘ruined’ converse. It doesn’t matter what she thinks since they make me extremely happy, but I just think it adds to the overall madness I feel like she has

There are lyrics from the moon will sing on the front but I couldn’t get a good photo. Everything involved I did myself and is incredibly personal to me, and I was so proud of how they turned out. I also TAUGHT MYSELF how to lace on the beads without tutorials. So yeah. Thanks for encouraging my creativity and expression, mom.

#Vent post #Vent #personal vent #tw vent

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rhondafromhr · 14 days ago

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Hey Sims 2 nation, who wants to hear about my super elaborate kinda unhinged AU involving the Grunt, Curious (mostly Vidcund), Smith and Specter (mostly Ophelia) households?? Some of this is inspired by the game and my own playthroughs, some of it kinda diverges, some of it’s stuff that’s plausible for the characters imo but can’t really be replicated in actual gameplay. Also partially inspired by this post. I’ll probably give in to the demons and turn this into a 100k longfic at some point, but for now here’s what I got. It’s not fully fleshed out yet but hope you enjoy! Also hope you see the vision for Vidcund/Buzz, I’ve never seen a single person put them together (understandable, it is very much a crackship) but I think they have the potential for SUCH a fun and interesting dynamic and could really push each other to change, for better for worse.

—The way I interpret Buzz is as a deeply flawed sim, but one who has room to improve and do better. He wasn’t the most involved parent, leaving most of the difficult work to Lyla (as seen in the in-game memories with her having taught most of their toddler skills), he obviously favors Tank, being harsher on Ripp and ignoring Buck, he puts a lot of pressure on all of them to live up to a very strict set of ideals. This impacts all of the kids negatively in different ways. Obviously not great, but I do believe that he does care about them and with the right catalyst, he could begin to see the error of his ways and make an effort to change. Like he’s not going to become the most open, accepting, emotionally available dad-of-the-year overnight, but I think he could sort of redeem himself over time. I see him as the type of sim who, once his mind sets on something, is all in, so I think once he realized how shitty he’s been, he’d throw himself into trying to be a better parent, although he would definitely not get it right on the first tries and would continually make mistakes. Of course there are going to be growing pains in an arc like this and he has some pretty skewed ideas of what good parenting looks like.

—I definitely get why he’s portrayed as straight-up abusive and virtually irredeemable in a lot of fanworks and that characterization is valid, but based the limited info we have from family and individual bios, memories, environmental storytelling, personality points, etc I think you could go in either direction and have a decently solid basis for it in canon. (Buzz in Division 47 in The Sims 2 PSP is a different story, but tbh I see that as an entirely different timeline and a lot of the characterizations are different.)

—So anyway, here’s how it starts: Buzz is spying on his neighbors with the telescope because he’s a fucking freak who can’t mind his own business; Vidcund comes over to yell at him for spying because he’s also a fucking freak and assumes Buzz is spying on his household specifically. Buzz keeps doing it to spite him because no one tells him what to do on his own watcher-damn property. This continues every day and although neither would ever admit it, they both start looking forward to it bc they’re both lonely. Neither has many close relationships and every close relationship they do have is strained—Buzz with his kids bc he hasn’t been a very good father, Vidcund with his brothers bc there’s always been tension with Pascal over the whole Circe thing and he hasn’t been getting along with Lazlo as well recently. (That bit is inspired by my playthroughs—every time I load up that household, Vidcund and Lazlo have a negative interaction that causes them to lose their status as best friends). Slowly but surely, they build up a rapport and eventually something akin to friendship.

—Buzz gets his demotion, just like in the game’s scripted events, and will soon struggle to pay his mortgage and keep up his family’s current standard of living on his new salary, but he would rather die than admit to failure so he needs to find a way to stay in that house and keep up appearances. Meanwhile, with Pascal’s new alien baby, the Curious household is always loud and chaotic. Vidcund resents the lack of quiet and alone time and the interruption to his routine. Oh, look at that, Buzz has a spare room, and there are no crying babies in his house, just two horribly maladjusted teenagers and an attention-starved tween. Cue the “And they were roommates.”

—At some point, Buzz decides to try and get Buck into private school and invites the headmaster over. He enlists Vidcund’s help and they pose as a married couple (if he wants to impress this snobby ass school he can’t let on that he needs a roommate, and he sees that as the most plausible explanation for why Vidcund lives there. Also at this point Vidcund’s a professor at La Fiesta Tech so that kind of helps make them look even more impressive.)

—Buzz forces Tank and Ripp to spend the weekend camping at Three Lakes because he doesn’t trust them to get along for the night and make a good impression (who’s fault is that, Buzz?? Who played favorites and pitted them against each other??). They have a side story bonding and overcoming some of their issues there.

—To really sell it, Buzz and Vidcund casually touch each other here and there (an arm around the waist, hand on the shoulder, etc.) Both of them are too emotionally constipated to show affection in any way, especially physical, so they’re both super touch starved and end up liking it a lot. Like, a lot.

—Even though dinner fully caught on fire and nearly burned the house down, they manage to get Buck in. Buzz is all giddy (although he tries to hide it and be his usual gruff self) and keeps giving Vidcund these soft looks when he thinks he’s not looking.

—They end up sleeping together (in the literal sense, not woohoo) but Buzz’s reaction to it makes it seem like more happened. He’s all stressed over it, wondering what does this mean?? What are they?? He can’t believe he allowed himself to receive slight physical intimacy and comfort. What’s gotten into him??

—Cue Buzz and Vidcund lounging in the kitchen in their boxers and undershirts sipping coffee when Tank and Ripp come home early. Buzz is mortified and stammers trying to explain himself, but the boys Do Not Care.

—The fucking family drama this would cause!!! Imagine the Curious family finally finding out who Vidcund’s seeing. Pascal would be furious. Lazlo would just be confused, and maybe concerned for Vidcund, but they all suck at feelings and communication so he doesn’t express it in the best way. Then Vidcund gets pissed at his brothers, causing even more tension in their already strained relationship.

—Jenny I think would be extremely weary of Buzz because of his and PT9’s history and make it clear that she’s not going to tolerate any bullshit, but would try and put her best foot forward. She’s happy to see Vidcund in a relationship that seems to be making him happy and isn’t just one-sided stalking on his part (RIP Circe Beaker).

—When Jenny tries to talk to the other brothers about this, they’re already fragile and take it to mean that she sees their arrangement of living and co-parenting Pascal’s kid together instead of with romantic partners as inferior (bc a part of this is that they feel like Vidcund abandoned them for the Grunt family). They also incorrectly assume that Jenny thinks she’s better than them for having a more traditional family. And there WAS a time when she worried about them staying single in Pascal’s case or unmarried/only seeing Crystal casually in Lazlo’s (when you load up the household in the game, she almost always rolls the want to have a baby, but by that point she’s too close to being an elder to be able to do so; I think she adores her husband and her family and wouldn’t change anything, but because she waited so long due to PT9 being gone on his assignment, she wasn’t able to have a large family like she always wanted. So at some point she would have worried about her brothers waiting until it’s “too late” like she did, in a sense, but once she realized they really didn’t want that, she supported them.)

—PT9 is the type of sim to always take the high ground and focus on his own life and the people he loves, so Buzz’s beef with him has always been kind of one-sided anyway (saw a post of them as that “when someone’s so hateful it inspires you to be kinder”/“when someone’s so kind it actually disgusts you” meme and like yeah. That’s their dynamic). Buzz clumsily tries to make amends, and they slowly bond and put the time they fought in a Waffle House parking lot behind them (yes that is where the fight happened, it’s 10000% canon, trust). PT9 or Jenny will often playfully remind him about how he got his ass handed to him, but by this point (shockingly) he’s actually grown a sense of humor and he doesn’t mind. I just love the idea of Buzz, Jenny and PT9 having a slowburn enemies to friends arc.

—This leads to Jenny and Vidcund reconnecting. Between being significantly older and not sharing a lot of the same interests that her brothers always bonded over, I think Jenny always felt a little alienated and left out. Almost like they were in an exclusive little club she didn’t get to be a part of. But now Vidcund’s kicked out of the club too because Pascal and Lazlo hate his ass (not really. They’re just hurt and need time to come around to the idea of him being with Buzz Grunt of all people). So they get to get to know each other as adults and discover what they do have in common. Both love botany and they start gardening together. Jenny minored in botany and she’s extremely knowledgeable. Both are elated to have someone they can share their passion with. Vidcund is shocked and scandalized to learn that she grew and sold her own weed back in high school and college. (She still does on the side but shhh don’t tell Buzz). Both love to read and they form a little book club. They start out only reading the classics and scientific literature, wanting to impress each other, but they both have a secret love of trashy, pulpy romance novels that they try desperately to hide out of embarrassment. Eventually, they realize this and add some of those books into the rotation.

—As his relationship with Buzz has gotten more serious, Vidcund’s kind of struggling with his new role as essentially a stepdad, and Jenny and PT9 are the go to people for parenting advice. One night PT9 is essentially like “my brother in Watcher, it’s good that you care but you worry too much, there’s no guidebook and none of us truly know what we’re doing, everybody fucks up sometimes.” And Jenny’s like “preach”. (They also may or may not be stoned off Jenny’s primo weed for this discussion).

—What are the kids up to during all this?? Well, Ophelia, tired of her anxieties ruling her life, decides to explore the mysteries and weird supernatural occurrences of Strangetown. Initially, her goal is simply to learn how to exorcise ghosts so she can finally have some peace and quiet at home and no longer be constantly scared by them, but deep down it’s about proving to herself that she can be brave and overcome her fears. Through the process, gaining an understanding of the town’s weirdness will also give her a sense of control and make it seem less unknowable and terrifying. She drags Ripp and Johnny into it (they’re a polycule btw; they’re such an inseparable trio to me. I have installed mods in my game to allow polyamory solely so they can be together) and they begin to spend all their free time exploring the town and uncovering its secrets.

—Now that Tank and Ripp are cool, Ripp wants to spend more time with his brother, so Tank attempts to make things right with Johnny and Johnny gives Tank a chance, mainly for Ripp’s sake. So Tank kind of fourth wheels them and tags along on their adventures, but he doesn’t mind. He’s vibing and actually having fun for once. They also have to sneak around a lot bc Olive is really strict, as is Buzz (although he has started to loosen up a little at this point) and Tank really loves the shenanigans and rebelling because he’s never allowed himself to do that.

—I think Tank and Ophelia could eventually become close. They’re both bundles of tension and anxiety and hold themselves to impossible standards (Ophelia channels this into trying to be the perfect student and obsessing over her grades). They both struggle to let go of control because neither has really had any in their home lives. Neither one has really gotten the chance to talk about the parents they lost or given themselves space to properly grieve (Ripp hasn’t either), always too focused on surviving the here and now, but would eventually come to allow themselves to do so. (Haven’t really fleshed it out yet but the catalyst for this is that one of the supernatural adventures they go on involves ghosts and the need to process things to be able to move on to the next plane. It’s, like, annoyingly on the nose and Not Subtle Whatsoever to the point where it actually irritates them.)

—Also Tank is aroace. I see a character that doesn't have a canonical love interest and I go, “It’s free real estate” and hit them upside the head with the aroace beam. He starts out deeply ashamed of it, feeling like he failed to live up to the standards of masculinity his dad used to put on him and that he continues to put on himself, but slowly comes around to be okay with it.

—Buck and Jill become besties. I think it starts out as sort of a “well our families spend like every second together now. You’re literally always around and we’re the only two kids around our age at the function. I guess we’re friends?” type of deal. Like they’ve always been chill and friendly with each other at school, but never super close. But Jill brings out Buck’s more playful and imaginative side and helps him to just be a kid, and in turn she gets a new partner in crime. He also helps her gain the confidence to stand up to a few little shits who have been making fun of her at school, and they get their revenge on them with some kind of epic prank. They get in trouble for it and Buck expects Buzz to either be mad at him or ignore him per usual, but instead Buzz is proud that he stood up for his friend and for what was right.

—One day Buck and Jill are left alone in the house with the dog (I always get the Smiths a big dog and name it something stupid like Floofmaster 5000) and decide to give it a bath, haircut and dye job after Buck tells her about his dreams of being a celebrity pet groomer. (Fun fact for those not familiar with the game, that’s canon. IIRC it says something about him wanting to become a pet groomer to the stars in his bio. Sadly there’s no such career path in game to my knowledge). The Smiths come home to a bright pink dog with a surprisingly well-done haircut and a pink-stained bathroom. Jenny and PT9 try to (gently) scold the kids but they can’t stop laughing. PT9 dyes his hair pink to match the dog (in my heart he’s the classic “was adamant about absolutely not wanting a dog but then got the most attached to it” dad). Jenny joins in too because she always used to dye her hair fun colors and she misses it.

—Maybe Buck and Jill get crushes on each other and eventually date when they get older?? I usually put them together after sending them off to college in my game. Typically I give them both the pleasure aspiration too, so they spend their days just living it up, having fun, doing whatever they feel like doing. They match each other’s whimsy and chaos.

—Back to Buzz and Vidcund: at some point before they’re officially together but when they’re definitely Becoming A Thing, Buzz decides he needs to work on himself and repair his relationship with his kids before anything else can take priority, so they break things off but remain friends (emotional maturity??? From Buzz Grunt??? Inspiring. People really can change.) They’re both really mopey about it but insist they’re fine.

—Around this time, certified trust fund jerk Malcolm Landgraab IV comes on the scene to open up some new locations for his electronics retailer downtown. He and Vidcund meet, hit it off and end up in a sort of situationship. Vid still lives with the Grunts, but spends a lot of time with Malcolm and is around a lot less.

—The boys are Not Happy with this development. They’re like uh hey, where the fuck is he?? They’ve gotten attached to Vidcund and sort of started to see him as another parental figure. They kinda assumed Buzz and Vidcund were already a thing, so they’re shocked that they’ve “broken up” and not even told them, and that Buzz is being so cavalier about it. Also Tank and Buck don’t cope super well with big changes so this isn’t great for them :( now it’s up to poor Ripp to comfort both his brothers and tbh he has no idea what he’s doing. Get my man some of that primo weed, he needs it.

—Still, anytime Buzz or one of the boys call him for literally anything, Vidcund will drop Malcolm like a hot potato. It’s obvious where his priorities lie and where his heart is. Eventually, Malcolm breaks up with Vidcund, stating that he’s caught actual feelings but he knows Vidcund can’t reciprocate because he’s hung up on somebody else.

—This will become a plot point later: Malcolm keeps doing increasingly unhinged things to try and impress Vidcund and prove how great he’s doing after their breakup, which eventually escalates to him running for mayor of Strangetown. His opponent is none other than Circe Beaker and now everyone has to rally behind her because holy crap would that rich dumbfuck run Strangetown right into the ground. This is genuinely not meant to be a commentary of any sort, I just think a mayoral race between Circe “I definitely don’t have a man trapped in my basement to run experiments on” Beaker and Malcolm Landgraab IV would be funny, especially the way I like to characterize him (chaotic dumbass with a huge ego who has WAY too much money and free time and makes it everyone else’s problem.)

—Immediately after ending things with Malcolm, Vidcund tells Buzz what happened and why. After like a year of tension, they finally kiss. Vidcund moves his stuff from his room into Buzz’s and that’s that.

—They bicker a lot, sometimes playfully, sometimes not. It dredges up some memories related to their parents’ divorce for the boys when it happens in front of them. Buzz is trying but he’s still the densest motherfucker on the planet so it takes him a LONG time to realize this. Eventually, he and Vidcund learn to reign it in and the boys get to a place where they trust that it’s not anything serious and Vid’s not going anywhere.

—They’re both pretty ambivalent about marriage. Buzz has already been there done that and he fucked it up pretty bad. Vidcund’s not opposed but he’s never really pictured himself getting married. Eventually, when it comes time for Tank to start thinking about college, Vidcund mentions that as a prof at La Fiesta Tech any dependents of his get free tuition (including stepchildren) and suggests they get married for that reason. Buzz is like, “yeah, I don’t see us ever not being together anyway, sure.”

—I think they’re the type of sims to wear black stainless steel wedding bands. Buzz has an African violet engraved in Vidcund’s.

—As a popularity sim, Buzz would absolutely want a huge wedding and reception, and now that he actually has people who like him and would show up it’s within reach! But he knows how much Vidcund hates crowds and big parties so he keeps it lowkey. (Being considerate and prioritizing others’ needs and wants, even above his own?? Who is he??) They just do it at a courthouse and have a little family get together. Pascal and Lazlo come to at least make an effort to reach out and show their support, and Vidcund is overjoyed to see them, even if he acts aloof about it. Their relationship is still never quite as close as it used to be, but things are better.

—Also they’re autistic4autistic. Neither is aware of this. Buzz because he was raised in A Different Time and his parents were Very Traditional, so they just harshly disciplined him whenever he acted “weird” and he learned to mask very quickly; Vidcund because basically the entire Curious family was neurodivergent and Glarn and Kitty didn’t see the need to seek out a diagnosis, they just sort of accommodated the kids as needed and let ‘em do their thing. Buzz masks so hard and so consistently that he doesn’t even know how not to and refuses to accommodate himself (like if the fabric of a shirt is making him want to crawl out of his skin, he just keeps wearing it because he feels like he “should” be able to tolerate it and also that deeply ingrained toxic masculine ideal that suffering through it without complaining is the “manly” thing to do.) Vidcund cannot fathom masking and when it comes to things that trigger his sensory issues he’s a very “if it sucks hit da bricks” type of sim. He eventually convinces Buzz to just change out of the shirt, stop eating the food with the texture he can’t stand, take the aspirin when he has a headache, use the damn heating pad when his bad back is acting up, and just stop making himself miserable in all these little ways when he literally doesn’t have to.

—Tank is also like that (he learned it from his father and continued practicing it in an effort to be more like him and not disappoint him). He learnt about the joys of “if it sucks hit the bricks” from Ripp, and now that he sees his dad and Vidcund doing it, he feels more okay about not forcing himself to do things that make him really distressed or set off his sensory issues.

—Meanwhile, Ripp learned the joys of not hitting the bricks every time it sucks from Ophelia and Tank; especially with his creative endeavors, he starts sticking them out even when they get challenging, and he enjoys the satisfaction and fulfillment it brings him and creates some music and poetry he’s really proud of.

—The Grunt family looks for a car at some point and Buzz is initially going to get one of those unnecessarily huge trucks that don’t even fit in a lane on the road because of fucking course he’d be one of those guys. Ripp, the resident hippie who’s a bit of an environmentalist, is against this. Buzz actually ends up buying a more reasonable sized sedan, and Ripp is touched that Buzz listened to him, took his input and opinion seriously and even factored it into his decision.

#sorry mutual who didn’t follow me for sims 2 content (aka literally all of you)#I promise it’s not going to take over my blog. I still heart our tiny town in Michigan #strangetown premades #ts2 #strangetown #the sims 2 #buzz grunt #tank grunt #ripp grunt #buck grunt #vidcund curious #vidcund curious/buzz grunt #anyone got a good ship name for them cause I don’t

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