#either my dad or his friend or both of them have been over every single day since Thursday

[horrorgirlreads]

One more day. One more day until the work in my house is complete and I can put things back in their place and my floor won't be covered in sawdust and there won't be workmen (and by workmen i mean my dad and 1 of his friends) coming in my house and I will have energy again

[harryslittlefreakk]

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

[reiderwriter]

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. 

[kingkatsuki]

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.”

[uinmyheart]

[♡] "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.

[fineprintedsunsets]

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!”

“Kiss!”

“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?”

[kindaasrikal]

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 :>

[climbthemountain2020]

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

[matthewkniesys]

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

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

Keep Thinking About Gale x Single Mom!Tav

A/N: Shout-out to @leighsartworks216 for letting me ramble to them about it. I just need to get all this stuff rattling around in my brain out.

I know, I know, Gale repeatedly says he's not father material, but have you considered that I want him to be a dad anyway and it's cute

So in my brain this single mom is named Gwen (Guinevere); a half-elf, wild magic sorceress

She came from a fairly well to do family, married a handsome and acceptably rich merchant and soon had a child on the way

Problems came when she gave birth to a healthy baby girl, who also happened to be a teifling

Seen as a bad omen, both her family and husband wanted her to give up the child, she refused causing her husband to leave her and her family to reject her

She didn't let that stop her though and soon she found a new home for her and Clara

Over the next eight years she worked hard to build a life for herself and make sure Clara never doubted for a moment she was loved

Gwen knew the world would be hard on her girl, so she made a point to build up her confidence and teach her it's never wrong to fight back when people are treating you unfairly; you can't take that shit lying down

Blunt and a bit intense, Gwen has seen and done plenty of shit and thought she finally had a handle on her life; and then she got kidnapped by illithids

Still haven't played the game, so I can't give a play by play of every interaction, but I do know early game she would be a bit distracted

Obviously her first goal is to figure out if her daughter is okay so it frankly is the only thing on her mind until she gets her hand on a sending scroll or something like it

Only after does she confirm that Clara is safe and with people she trusts can she focus on the task at hand

Takes a liking to Gale basically from the word go; he's respectful, he know hows to cook, he keeps making comments about his tongue, there is only so much a woman can handle

Gods know it has been a while since she's gotten laid

He starts rambling about magic and she can't not fuck him

Gale is hesitant at first because first the orb, second Gwen has made no secret she had a child and Gale doesn't see himself as father material, and three because he does really, really like her and doesn't want to make promises he can't keep

I'd say they're able to meet Clara before they head come to Baldur's Gate so Gale and the rest can meet her earlier; and to give Gwen some peace of mind

Clara is a very curious and headstrong, both of which Gale can appreciate; he can see why Gwen was so determined to get back to her, which only makes him admire her more

Also, quick aside about the rest of the companions; Wyll and Karlach would be ready to baby sit at any given moment, Lae'zel admires the child's fighting spirit and absolutely gifted her a sword, Shadowheart enjoys her more mischievous tendencies, and Astarion is classic wine aunt who hates all kids except Clara (he's been helping her stage of coup of the swing set)

Eventually feelings are confessed between Gale and Gwen leading to a proper relationship (and Gwen actually getting laid)

Gwen is absolutely not having it with him trying to blow himself up or becoming a god

Mystra: You must destroy yourself and the orb. Gale: Alright, let me ask Gwen. Mystra: No, that's not--. Gale: She said no.

Once everything is said and done, I'm going back and forth on if they would settle in Waterdeep

Clara has friends and it would be hard to ask her to leave, but I think Gale could compromise and get a position at a different magical university closer by

Either way, Gale settles into the domestic life rather nicely and dives head first into being the best father to Clara he can be

He absolutely devours every parenting book he can get his hands on, only to throw it all out the window once he's actually in it; Gwen did warn him, but old habits and all that

Probably waits a little longer to actually get married to see how they all function as a family together first; plus he wants to properly ask Clara if she's okay with him marrying her mother

I've got other random thoughts, but that about covers it for now, if you want to know more, feel free to drop an ask! I'm up for anything.

[quillthrillswriting]

this one's for all the kataang shippers that got a little sad every time they saw absolute husband aang slander in a zutara fanfic.

OR: the common zutara trope of "zuko helps katara escape an unhealthy relationship with aang" is flipped entirely and completely on its head.

...

The liveliness of this mountaintop temple was nothing like the cold quiet that she had felt in Zuko’s castle these last few years. After she and her friends had saved the world, ending the Fire Lord’s reign, Katara had found herself at a crossroads. Although it made the most sense, she couldn’t bring herself to return back home, to the Southern Water Tribe. The memories were… too much.

Sokka had extended an offer for her to join him at the Northern Water Tribe, where he planned to find a teacher to aid him in mastering the traditional non-bending fighting styles of their people, but Katara just couldn’t bring herself to go back there, either. Toph and Aang were both headed to reconstruct important cultural monuments destroyed during the war, including the Air temples. She had considered coming with them, she really had, but ultimately… she made a different choice. 

...

So she had stayed with Zuko. 

Through his breakup with Mai, she had been the one he came to.

Through his first year as the Fire Lord, she was at his side. Attended every meeting, talked through his ideas, dragged him out to social events when he felt so in over his head that he would sit paralyzed in his room. That closeness had turned into something else the first night that he had kissed her.

...

And after what felt like years of quiet complacency and mild agreement, Katara felt her temper awaken, flicker. She calmed herself, reasoned that she didn’t know what he was doing with them. He could be checking for threats on her life, for poison sealed into an envelope. She held fast onto that tiny scrap of belief that he was still the man she had married, trusted, loved and been loved by.

Until that last thread of hope and trust was pulled taunt and then snapped entirely when Katara slipped into his office and found them. 

There were entire drawers of letters with her name on them.

...

Her attention drifted to the bottom of the bag. To Aang's scrolls. The ones she still hadn’t let herself read.

...

Katara,

How’s the fire palace? Started any underground dance clubs yet? I guess they’d be pretty tricky to start right under the nose of the new Fire Lord. Is Zuko adjusting well? I’m a bit worried about the burden of dismantling an entire empire falling squarely on his shoulders. Do you think I should head back, stick around for some peacekeeping? Give me any reason to come to be with you help, and I will.

Yours, Aang.

...

(Fire Lady) Katara,

I heard by word of mouth from a few Fire Nation travellers that passed through the Western Air Temple that you and Zuko had gotten married. Congratulations are in order, of course, but… Sokka, Toph, your dad and I never got our invitations. Was it a Fire-Nation-only event, or something? Your dad is pretty broken up about it. Sokka and I tried to console him, but he’s fairly upset, and honestly? I’m worried about you, Katara. This doesn't seem like you. You don’t sound like yourself.

Yours, always, Aang

...

She selected a third scroll, dated only a month before.

Katara,

I can’t deny that I’m concerned about how you’re doing. Especially considering that the Katara I know would never shut down every single opportunity to see her friends. We don’t mean to be overbearing, but we love you. So much. If all the new duties that come with being wife to the Fire Lord are too much, please, please, talk to any of us. Talk to me. I care about you, Katara, I always have, and I miss my best friend.

Forever yours, Aang.

Katara slid the scroll closed before her tears could drop onto it, and she quietly packed the papers away. She reached up, rubbing those tears away furiously the way she did as a child whenever Sokka called her a crybaby. The attempt to hold the tsunami of emotion back was fruitless. She doubled over, shoulders shaking with sobs.

She knew where she would go once the cargo ship reached the land. 

♥ the rest of the (completed) fic can be found here!! ->

[lovepotionsandlust]

All Of The Ways We Differ pt. 2

“Now what exactly was that?” Hermione raised her eyebrows at you crossing her arms. Your eyes were still on the parchment, re reading the note over and over in disbelief.

“It would appear my predications would get me an exceptional mark with Trelawney.” Ginny teased, causing Hermione to push further.

Your head was spinning to the point you could barely hear either of them.

“All students report to your dormitories immediately, await further instructions there from your prefects” Shouted McGonagall.

***

You barely had slept that night, every room buzzing with news of all students needing to return home for the next week to allow repairs of the great hall. In addition to the news that Umbridge placed her resignation; classes needed to be rearranged for the remaining months of the school year. Filtch couldn’t have been more upset if Peeves had hung his equipment from the moving stair case once again.

You busied yourself with packing what you could in your bag, mind racing with thoughts of Fred. Before the sun had even arose, you were on your way back home. Hoping to give yourself ample time to get yourself ready. Your family had yet to return from their travels, giving you the relief of no interruptions or questions from your parents. You did not say a single goodbye to any of your friends on the way out of the castle.

“what’s gotten into her?” Questioned Ron

Ginny and Hermione shared a knowing look.

“I guess only time will tell.” Ginny dismissed any further questions adding “we better get back to the burrow to ensure Fred and George aren’t on a milk carton somewhere after mom was through with them.” 

***

As Ginny, Harry, Ron and Hermione approached the burrow, there was an eerie calm to the air. Fred was sat on the front stoop, staring down at his hands.

“What a bloody brilliant show Fred! Has mom not heard yet? What, are the owls celebrating as well and not delivering the post?”  Ron shouted as he approached his older brother. Fred looked up showing a deep purple bruise below his left eye.

Giving a warning look to Ron, Fred exclaimed “well if she didn’t know she would now.”

Hermione rushed to him inspecting his face “Looks better than I thought you would, im just glad you have both eyes at this point.”

“Mom had heard before we returned home, Dad took her to the house of Black to calm down a bit.”

As Ron, Hermione and Harry ushered past him to the house, Fred reached out and stopped Ginny before she could enter the door.

“Did she get my note?”

Chuckling Ginny shook her head, “Really Fred? You have mom raining hellfire down upon you, got expelled, and your worried about your date?”

He nodded before standing up from the stoop.

“Come on Ginny, you’re her best friend, she had to have said something.”

“After she read that note, and it had been announced we were all returning home, she packed so fast that I don’t believe she ate last night or this morning. Luckily I had read the note over her shoulder or I would have no idea what is going on.”

“She didn’t eat? Is she Okay? I hope I didn’t make her too uncomfortable with that kiss on the cheek. Why didn’t you check on her?” Speaking so fast Ginny could barely understand him.  

“Woah, Woah slow down Romeo.” Ginny was taken back by how concerned he was about you, she almost pitied him. Wanting to relieve his anxiety, she closed her eyes and sighed. “If you ever utter a word of what I am about to tell you Fred Gideon Weasley, I will set your hair on fire in your sleep. I will tell mom it was a failed experiment. Got it?”

He swallowed hard nodding, awaiting nervously for what information was to come.

“She fancies you Fred, she always has.”

His face lit up before she continued, “But that is my best friend, if you mess this up, Azkaban couldn’t keep you safe from me.”

He did not say another word, hurrying himself back inside to try to get rid of this black eye before his night with you.

***

Grateful as ever to be back in your empty home, you wasted no time getting into the shower. Your favorite music playing from the other room. Trying to calm your nerves as you brushed through your hair.

“what if he doesn’t like me? What if I get to talking about something ridiculous and he realizes how weird I am? What if I fell flat on my face in front of him as I entered the three broomsticks?”

You took a dep breath looking at yourself in the mirror, attempting to bring yourself back down to earth. Pointing at yourself in the reflection “now listen here, no boy has ever turned you down. You have always been the heart breaker, never the heart broken. You could have any man, their best friend, and their brother if you wanted to. Get your ass in gear and show him exactly what he’s after.” 

Having a small pep talk with yourself seemed to help. You were finally ready as the clock neared time to leave to make your trek to Hogsmeade. Looking over yourself in the mirror one more time. You had decided to wear your favorite jeans, that hugged your curves in all of the right places. A deep maroon sweater that cut into a dep V in the front. Quickly sliding on your black boots and pulling your favorite hat from Molly over your head, you were ready. One more deep breath, and a quick check of your lipstick in the mirror. It was time to face the music.

***

Fred sat at the back booth, foot tapping in anticipation of your arrival. Hermione had given him her best attempt to heal his black eye. Remained still was a faint purple and yellow abrasion below his eye. He only hoped you would not notice. The bell above the door caught his attention, searching for you in the crowd he lifted his head. To his dismay it was the group of sixth year girls, who even on a bad day,had followed him around like a group of lost puppies. He knew with what had happened at the castle yesterday, that they would all flock to him, and flock they did.

As you entered the dimly lit room, you spotted that tall head of red hair straight away. Swarmed by gigging girls, twirling their hair around their fingers. “Fred you have to sign my text book, after yesterday you are basically a celebrity.” You couldn’t help but wonder how many paper birds did he send out. You listened cautiously from a distance.

“Listen ladies, I appreciate your kindness I do, but I am actually waiting for someone.”

 “Oh.. like a date?” asked one of the girls attempting not to sound disappointed.

“If I am as lucky as I think I am, yeah actually.”

The girls all nodded, swallowing their pride. Starting to file to their own table one last girl stopped, feeling brave she brushed his hair to the side. “well if your date doesn’t show up, I’ll be in the booth over there.” She winked at him strutting away, clearly adding an extra wiggle to her hips.

Fred had never felt so uncomfortable.

“Hey handsome got time for one more autograph for a fan?” you teased.

Your voice rang through him like a shock wave. Standing instantly from his seat, he gestured towards you.

“Anything for my fans.” He smiled down at you, that’s when the fading bruise caught your eye. You grabbed his chin angling his face so you could get a better look. His cheeks went pink making it harder to assess the damage.

“Molly?” you questioned, knowing how feisty she could get.

“Well she did not take too kindly at me being expelled right before we graduated.”

“frying pan?”

“text book” he shrugged.

“serves you right Weasley”

You locked eyes for a moment, suddenly realizing you were the only people still stood in the walkway. You both sat, nervously awaiting the other to say something, anything. Two pint glasses being slammed down on the table startled you.

“Brought you the usual dears, anything to eat for the two of yas?”

The waitress looked back and forth at you both, impatiently awaiting an answer.

“Did you eat today?” Fred looked at you with that look, in which told you that you could not lie to you. It also just become apparent to yourself that you had not.

“Not yet, can I just get the special?” looking back at the waitress to evade Freds gaze. She nodded, taking his order and promptly leaving to the next table just as quickly as she had arrived. A small shift had now made you hyper aware that due to his long legs, Freds right leg was slotted directly in between your own. Making you sit up straighter in your seat.

Clearing your throat you asked, “so how badly did George get it? I can’t imagine you took all of the blame.”

“He was able to duck faster than I was, but dad stepped in after she made contact.”

“Well, if you need somewhere to ride out the storm until she cools off, my parents are not back yet, my couch is open.”

Smirking up at you, “Food isn’t even here yet and you are trying to get me back to your place? Did not take you for that kind of girl.”

He raised his glass to his lips to sip on his drink, looking far too proud of himself. Waiting until you could tell his mouth was full you decided to respond. You leaned in slightly so only he could hear you.

“See now, I was really just hoping you would throw me on this table and show your fan club who the real VIP is.”

This made him choke on his drink, coughing still he looked up at you with a glint in his eyes.

“Not many people can beat me at my own game Darlin, color me impressed.”

“We have not even started playing yet Freddie.”

Before he was able to respond the waitress set your food in front of you. You quickly thanked her. Popping a fry in your mouth you attempted to look as innocent as possible, as Fred watched you closely.

“now what am I going to do with you?” his eyes darkened slightly as he shifted lower in his seat pressing his leg further between yours.

***

The rest of the meal went along comfortably. The sixth year girls left defeated before the next round of drinks had been placed before you. You discussed your families, ambitions outside of school, the way Fred had lit up about his joke shop dreams gave you butterflies. Before either of you had noticed, all other patrons had exited, and the chairs were floating to flip on top of the surrounding tables.

“not too often we get to see such young love in here. Its on the house dearies. Yous just get home safely now ya hear me?”

Her sentiment of young love catching you both off guard, unable to look at each other just yet, Fred moved to stand.

“I should probably walk you home now.” He said extending his hand to you. You nodded, standing along side him, his hand finding its way to your lower back, guiding you through the door.

“Thank you for meeting with me tonight, I was not sure you were going to show up if I’m honest.”

You continued walking alongside him looking over, “Why wouldn’t I? The hero saves the day, least I could do was join him for a meal as a thank you.”

A sly smile spread across his face. “A hero huh?” Puffing his chest out he added “no worries miss, I will keep you safe.”

The back of your hand met your forehead dramatically, pretending to faint you fell into his arms. Causing him to stop walking. “Oh please, sir, save me.”

You both laughed, staring up at him, a brief moment of silence fell over you. Brushing a strand of hair from your face he searched your eyes.  

“I really want to kiss you right now.” He watched you intently for permission.

Your hand shifted to rest on the back of his neck, pulling him in. Allowing your lips to collide with his. It was like nothing you had ever experienced before. The fireworks you were feeling put the twins show in the great hall to shame. Every sense was instantly heightened, goosebumps arising across your skin. Slowly pulling away from one another, he rested his forehead against yours, brushing his nose against your own. You both could not help but smile.

“You truly have no idea how long I have been wanting to do that.”

You giggled softly biting your bottom lip. “I think its time you got me home Freddie.”

***

As you walked back to your home, fingers intertwined a comfortable silence washed over the two of you. Snow had softly began falling, for a moment Fred stopped walking. Confused you turned to face him, when he reached up gently pulling your hat down further over your ears.

“can’t have you catching a cold. Don’t know if anyone told you but I am here to save the day.”

Rolling your eyes at him you continued walking. Although you could not ignore how your stomach had flipped with how gentle he was with you. “My knight in knitted armor.”

You weren’t sure if it had been the drinks you shared or how close he was to you, but your head was buzzing. As you approached your front steps you felt him halt. You turned to face him.

“You ok Freddie?”   

Nodding, he took a deep breath, gaining composure. “I have to be honest with you.” 

It had felt as if the world had stopped spinning. You attempted to keep your breathing steady as you awaited his response. The longer he took to speak, the more your self doubt kicked in. Turning his back to you he finally spoke.

“It has always been any girl I wanted, when I wanted.” He paused, shaking his head. “I am not trying to sound crude, but you saw how those girls were earlier.” He turned back to you gaging your facial expression, you attempted to give a weak smile so he would continue. After a deep breath he continued. “All of those other girls were just an impulsive moment, an indulgent want. Then I met you.” 

A breath you did not know you were holding let go. As he stepped closer to you, visibly as nervous as you felt. 

“I know this sounds mental, but ever since I met you... It felt as if after a long sweltering summer, I finally felt the cool relief of rain. If I go up there with you, I want- no I need this to be different. If you feel the same I need you to tell me, and if you don’t, I really need you to tell me.” 

For the first time since he began speaking he looked up at you from the bottom stair. You could see he was trying to be strong, but his eyes told a different story. This was the first time you had ever seen him look scared, you had always seen him so confident, almost invincible. That is when you realized just how serious this was for him. You moved, now standing on the same step as him. He looked as if he was bracing himself for impact. You raised your hand to touch him when something you never expected happened. He flinched, closing his eyes. Gently you touched his face, causing him to look down at you. It pained you to see him so scared, so human. 

Speaking softly, you locked eyes with him. “Fred Weasley, I want you to come upstairs with me.”

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Closure

"We like Steve, but we don't love Steve," Murray said mockingly.

A wave of fury rose up in Nancy. What business is it of his? Steve has been there for her more than anyone. He didn't have to go to the dinners with her but he did, every single one of them. He walked back into the house and fought the demogorgon when he didn't have to. He could have run. He was there for her, and she was just going to let this asshole mock him? No.

"I don't think it's any of your business," Nancy snapped. "And I love Steve. Maybe not in the way that he loves me, but I love him."

"Okay, okay," Murray said, holding up his hands defensively. "Sensitive, very sensitive."

Later that night, she lay in bed thinking about Steve and Jonathan. She also thought about Barb. She should feel victorious, but there was a guilty feeling in the pit of her stomach. She thought about the gate, how it was still open, and spreading into Hawkins. They weren't the same scientists, not the ones that killed Barb, and they were trying to stop the spread, but they were failing. . . They were only keeping it at bay momentarily. What if what she did puts them at risk because all she could see was getting justice for Barb? What if it swallows the entire town? What if it kills Holly? Or her mom and Dad? Or Mike? Oh, god, what did she do? What if the lab shuts down, and they can't stop it? Will was still getting treated by the doctors when no one else could possibly help, and she dragged his brother into this. Nancy rolled out of bed and rushed to the bathroom, emptying the contents of her stomach into the porcelain bowl. Jonathan popped his head into the bathroom.

"Nancy?" He asked as he knelt next to her.

"We fucked up. We shouldn't have done this. It's still open, Jonathan," Nancy said. "I didn't think about it when I saw it, and why didn't I? Why wasn't that enough for me to wake up? I was so angry. I was just so angry."

"Nancy - " Jonathan started to say.

"It's too late. I don't think I could get that creep to turn over anything now," Nancy sniffled. "God, it was so weird that he was pushing us together like that."

"Well, I mean, the idea of us isn't totally crazy, is it?" Jonathan asked.

"Jonathan. . .I'm still with Steve. . .and while I do have feelings for you, I don't think it would be a good idea. I'm still dealing with Barbara, and I could really use a friend, and I know that's not what you want to hear. I need friends to talk to. . . like you. . .like Steve. I don't think I can handle a relationship right now, not with either of you," Nancy sighed. "And I think that if you pulled your head out of your ass, you and Steve could be great friends too."

"Nance, he said some awful things - " Jonathan started to stay.

"Yeah, he apologized for those," Nancy snapped. "And you nearly killed him for it, so I think you're even."

"He's a douchebag," Jonathan scoffed.

"And you aren't? Need I remind you that you took those photos of me," she said. "And I just put everyone at risk! None of us are perfect, but do I really have to remind you that Steve put his life on the line for both of us? I could really use both of you. . . I can't lose anyone else. Can't you at least try?"

"Nancy. . . "

"Come on, you both like to cook!" Nancy said.

"He cooks? He doesn't have people do that for him?" Jonathan asked with a scoff of disbelief.

"His parents leave him alone all the time. He kind of had to fend for himself, kind of like you did, except your mom actually gives a shit," Nancy said and then paused. "Don't tell him I told you that."

"Damn it," Jonathan muttered and sighed. "Fine. I'll give the guy a chance."

"Thank you," Nancy said softly.

"I never actually apologized for taking those photos. It doesn't matter why I took those photos, I still took them, and I shouldn't have," Jonathan said. "I'm sorry, and I'm not taking it back this time. I actually mean it. Not only did I invade your privacy, but I also abused my skills as a photographer."

"Thank you for saying that," Nancy said softly. "And thank you for meaning it. There's a part of me that's always going to be a little weirded out by it, which is another reason why we shouldn't be together, but I want you to know that I do forgive you."

Nancy and Jonathan stayed on the floor in silent contemplation.

"You know, I don't think I'm ready for a relationship either," Jonathan said.

"Yeah," Nancy said softly.

There was another long moment of silence between them.

"You know, you would make a better journalist than that guy," Jonathan said.

"Yeah?" Nancy asked.

"Yeah."

When they got back to Hawkins, things had gone to shit. Will was now possessed by what the kids are calling the Mind Flayer, Steve’s like their guardian now, and El was alive, getting ready to close the gate with Hopper. Meanwhile, Steve and Nancy were looking through the heaters out on the lawn to use to get the Mind Flayer out of Will.

"You should go with him," Steve said.

"What?" Nancy asked.

"With Jonathan," Steve said.

"No, I'm not just going to leave Mike," Nancy scoffed.

"No one's leaving anyone. I may be a pretty shitty boyfriend . . . But I'm a damn good babysitter," Steve said.

"Steve. . . "

"It's okay, Nance. It's okay," Steve said softly, and her eyes filled with tears.

"You were not a shitty boyfriend! You were the best first boyfriend I could have asked for, and I'm sorry if I ever made you feel like you were. I was drowning and . . . You helped. You were there. After this we'll talk properly, okay?" Nancy sniffled and hugged Steve tightly. "Just want you to know that nothing happened with Jonathan. We're just friends. I don't want to lose either of you from my life, okay? Promise?"

"I promise," Steve said.

After freeing Will from the Mind Flayer, they met up with Hop in front of Jonathan's house. Hop was pulling El out of the car when they approached. Nancy opened the front door for him, following him into the house. When they walked in, they found the kids arguing with Steve over a knocked out Billy Hargrove. Steve’s face was bloody and beaten.

"I say we bury him outside with the other demodogs," Mike scowled.

"Mike! He is a person, and he's still alive!" Steve yelled. "He's also Max's brother."

"Stepbrother!" Max corrected.

"He slammed Lucas into a wall!" Mike screeched.

"He did what?!" Joyce asked, appalled.

"What the hell is going on here?" Hopper asked as he set El on the couch.

The kids started talking at once until Steve whistled, hollered, and clapped his hands.

"Hey, shitheads! Let me do the talking," Steve replied, putting his hands on his hips.

"You really are a good babysitter," Nancy grinned.

"More like a mom," Jonathan whispered loudly, and Nancy snickered.

"He's my stepbrother," Max spoke up. "He came looking for me. He didn't want me to hang out with Lucas, and so he attacked him. Steve stepped in to help, but Billy nearly killed him, so I used the ketamine to knock him out."

"I mean, I don't think he would have killed me," Steve frowned.

"You were unconscious, and he was still beating on you," Lucas said.

"You didn't see the look on his face!" Dustin exclaimed, his face pale. "He enjoyed it!"

"Okay. I need to deal with Hargrove, but first, I need to take you to the hospital," Hopper sighed.

"I'm fine," Steve said.

"Fine?! Fine?! He smashed a plate over your head, Steve!" Dustin exclaimed.

"What?!" Nancy, Jonathan, and Joyce exclaimed.

"Uh, I'll take Steve to the hospital, and you can deal with Hargrove if it makes it easier, Hop," Jonathan said, and Hopper nodded.

"I'll go with you," Nancy said.

"I'll go too!" Dustin and Lucas exclaimed.

"We're going to need to take Will to the hospital, anyway," Joyce said.

"I'm fine," Will said.

"Is there an echo in here?" Joyce scowled. "Max and Mike, you can ride with us."

"Yeah, we can go to the hospital," Will said.

Nancy practically pushed Steve into the passenger's seat before he could protest and climbed into the back seat with the two boys.

"Hey, Steve?" Lucas asked.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks, man," Lucas said softly.

"Anytime," Steve said with a grin.

Lucas lunged forward and hugged Steve from behind before plopping back down into his seat.

"Aww," Nancy, Jonathan, and Dustin said in unison.

"Oh my God! Shut up and drive!" Lucas exclaimed.

After Steve was admitted into the hospital as the doctors wanted to keep him overnight for observation, Jonathan went to check in on Will. On the way out of Steve’s room, he pulled Dustin and Lucas out of the room, leaving Nancy alone with Steve.

"You know, I have a hard time putting into words how I feel about someone. Steve, you're an important part of my life, and I want you to continue to be a part of it. I do love you, Steve, but not in the way that you want me to. I'm sorry I couldn't say that before, and I'm sorry that I hurt you. Don't say that I didn't because I did, Steve. You were there for me when not a lot of people were and you went to every dinner when you didn't have to. You held me as I cried, and you listened to me talk about Barb. I think if Barb hadn't died that night, I think I would have fallen head over heels for you, but too much has happened, and I don't know how to forget," Nancy said, crying.

"I don't think you ever forget. I think you just put one foot in front of the other and I think you'll find that it is easier to walk even with all the weight that you carry. You just get stronger," Steve shrugged and paused. "I don't want to lose you either."

"You're pretty smart, you know that? Why don't you bring it out more often?" Nancy asked.

"Some people just like me for my pretty face," Steve tried to joke.

"You're beautiful inside and out, Steve Harrington," Nancy said.

"Back at you," Steve smiled, sniffling. "I love you."

"I love you too," Nancy smiled and hugged him tightly.

Jonathan tentatively knocked on the door and popped his head in. His shoulders were a little tense.

"Can I come in?" He asked.

"Yeah," Nancy said.

"I just want to say, Steve, that it was pretty cool what you did. Those guys mean a lot to Will, and he's very grateful to you. So am I," Jonathan said.

"Thanks, man," Steve said, and then he grinned. "I guess you heard that I'm single now. Do you want a piece of this action? I have to say I'm still very fragile."

"Fuck off, man," Jonathan laughed, his shoulders relaxing. "I don't do jocks."

Nancy giggled, looking gratefully at Jonathan. It was a good start for all of them. A very good start.

[aceswritingshennanigins]

Stay With Me?

Miles 42 x GN!reader!

This is based of off my chat with a bot on character.ai . Enjoy!

tags: Hurt/Comfort, Implied Angst, College!AU, Spider-Man Across the Spiderverse, Domestic-ish bliss(?), Fluff, reader is Gn so they/them pronouns. (Platonic use of the word "Love")

2:00 AM. You watched as the clock ticked in your tiny bedroom in your one bed one bath apartment. You couldn't sleep and you had a feeling miles couldn't either. You grabbed a hoodie and a tiny gift bag and opened the fire escape window in your room. You and miles have been friends for so long, you were there with him when his dad died, helping him through every single step of grief he faced. It now meant that he was oddly clingy towards you. You walk toward the window to your right, knocking it a couple of times before cautiously opening it. The only source of light in the room from Miles' phone. You haven't seen him this numb since 3 years ago when his dad died. You wave.

"I brought brownies, you want some?"

You ask, getting increasingly worried when he doesn't speak and only nods emotionless.

"Here." you hand him a square with a paper napkin to avoid crumbs on his bed. He eats it, his eyes still emotionless waiting for you to say something. You notice a couple crumbs on his face and brush them off with your thumb, gently enough so that he doesn't get overstimulated. Luckily, he doesn't stop you, still staring at you.

"There we go! Anyways do you like the brownies?" You ask, your voice soft enough to make sure not to wake the neighbors up. He nods, taking another bite not saying anything.

"I'm glad you like them."

He nods finishing the brownie, still staring at you, mumbling something under his breath. You could've sworn you saw a flash of emotion in his eyes.

He mutters again "I love anything that you make." praying that you didn't hear him. You tilt your head to the side in confusion but end up letting it go.

"You have crumbs all over you!"

You say, your voice laced with an airy chuckle. He wipes them off still staring at your face.

"Is there something on my face?" You ask thinking he's staring at your freckles, acne scars, or the tiny birthmarks around your face.

He stares at them intrigued but snapped out and shook his head no.

"Are you ok? " You ask, moving your hand closer to his. He looked at your hand confused wondering what you were doing until you interlock your pinkies. He immediately holds your hand, his grip tight. It reminds you of all the times you were with him when his dad died, him just staring at the wall and you holding his hand, talking about the most mundane things you could imagine just to see him smile again.

You move closer "One of those days huh?" No response.

His grip only getting tighter like if he let you go you'd disappear. You move closer and lean on his shoulder, his and still gripping you tightly almost like you weren't real and if he let you go you'd disappear in front of his eyes. But his face was still devoid of any emotion.

"Bad day?"

you ask getting more and more worried, his grip on your hand only increasing . He nods as he grabs another brownie and starts eating it.

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

You ask not wanting to pressure him, but you need answers one way or another. it's killing you seeing him like this again, especially since both of your parents lived an hour away by train. You're met with refusal as he shakes his head no, still staring at the wall chewing his brownie. You're tempted to think he got high. tempted.

"Type?"

You ask hoping he agrees. He nods. "Finally" you think, now we're getting somewhere.

You pull out the notes app on your phone and make a note labeled 'Rant Session' and hand it to him.

"Here."

He just stares at you for a few seconds before beginning to type. After a few seconds, he hands you the phone back. His message saying:

"This place sucks. The people here are so fake, acting like they care for me just because. No one does."

"I care for you, and I can prove it. And what about Mr. Davis and your Mom?"

You say, hoping to comfort him, you know just as much as anyone how it felt to be left behind, and you're not going to let him feel like that ever. He types back.

"Aaron and my mom are just family. Family cares for each other. You're different..."

"How?"

"I don't know, its just different. I cant explain it. Its a weird feeling..."

"It's ok. Just know that I'm here to text or to call ok?"

"Ok. Don't tell Aaron tho..."

"I won't"

He nods as he eats another brownie, once again getting crumbs all over your phone and his face. that's a scolding for another day.

"You really like those huh?"

You say hoping to lighten the mood a little bit. He nods, his expression still lifeless but there is a glimmer of relief in his eyes.

"Hey, at least you like something today?"

He stops typing and puts the phone down on the desk. He stares at you and grabs your hand tightly, almost as if he missed you.

"I missed you too my love."

You say, gently putting your arm around his waist.

He nods as he lays his head on your shoulder. He squeezes your hand tightly, as if he wanted you near all the time. You let him, sensing that he needs the comfort. After a bit, he picks up the phone and starts typing again. You peek over his shoulder and he quickly finishes typing.

"I've never really met someone like you before..."

"What do you mean?"

He types.

" I... don't know... But I like being around you, it keeps my mind off things." 

"Isn't that a good thing?" 

" If I ask you something, do you promise not to tell anyone I asked?" 

"Pinky swear."

"Promise not to leave me?"

"Of course. I have to keep that promise" 

He nods, the faintest of smiles on his lips before, looking at his phone again as he writes, before handing it to you. 

"Nobody ever cared about me before you." 

"You're nice though! What's their problem?" 

"Its not that, I don't even know... I'm just different than everyone else... And people don't like different..." 

"I'm different, do you not like me?" 

"No, thats not what I meant. I love being around you. Your the only person that I've ever actually liked..." 

"Well I know a couple more people like me, if you want, we can hang out with them."

He puts the phone down, and takes a deep breath before shaking his head no, he finally types. 

"Nobody can know that you even know me." 

"Why? Am I going to ruin your reputation of the mysterious guy on campus?"

He nods, typing again. After a few seconds, he hands you the phone again, staring at you

"When someone has a bad past, everyone thinks your a bad person. People don't seem to believe in change. I did so many bad things... I deserve everything bad thats coming at me..." 

"They won't think you're a bad person, I'll make sure of it. And for the record? You don't deserve to feel that way, even if the things you did were "bad" so what? you're human and so am I" 

You smile at him. 

"Isn't that what life is?"

He nods, surprised but comforted at your words. 

"You're still not going to tell anyone though…"

He finally says his voice deep and raw like he had been crying for hours.

"My lips are sealed!"

You say trying to reassure him that you won't spill his secret. He nodded as his grip tightened on your hand, and you squeezed it, still leaning on his shoulder. He didn't say anything, but he held you close and squeezed your hand tighter, as if he wouldn't let you fade away like everyone else in his life.

"Feeling any better?"

You ask him gently, he hated the question whenever his friends would ask, unbeknownst to you, you're the only one allowed. He nods, then he leans his head on your shoulder, as if he wanted to lay there forever. He grabs you even tighter.

"Thank you…" He whispers to you on the verge of tears again, damn you for being so sweet, damn you for being his friend, and damn you for always staying. He doesn't want to leave you. He hugs you tighter and lays on you, as if he was a little kid.

"You're going to be ok…"

You say just speaking to fill the silence between you two, with a small hope he's comforted. He clings on to you, as if he wants to stay with you and only you forever.

"You cant go, please…"

"I'll stay for the night"

You say getting worried again.

"I'll remember this forever…"

He gently kisses your forehead, his grasp still tightly onto your hand.

"You're not leaving….please…you can't…You, Mom, and Aaron are all I have left…"

"I have to go later though, I have early classes tomorrow. I'm sorry."

You say gently kissing his forehead, making sure he doesn't start crying. He tries to grab your arm, as a way to keep you near him. He didn't want to let go, he couldn't. What if someone got you, Or you and his dad shared the same fate? Just thinking about it sent a chill up his spine.

"Miles."

You felt his grip tighten as he was very desperate for you not to leave him.

"Listen. I live next door, I'll check on you after my roommates go to bed"

"Why not just stay here? Please… I don't want to be alone…"

"I'll stay over tonight."

He hugs you, refusing to let you go.

"Thank you…"

"Don't mention it."

You climb out of his window and bring a duffel bag with toiletries, an outfit for tomorrow, a pillow, and your sleeping bag. He was nice but you two were no way near close enough to share a bed. You had your reasons that he didn't pry into. He stares at the ceiling while you're on the ground next to his bed.

"Don't leave me…"

"I won't."

"Promise?"

You could practically hear the fear and trauma in his voice.

"Promise."

You say sticking your pinkie up in the air for you two to make a pinkie promise.

"Go to sleep, I'll still be here."

You both drift off to sleep. Your dreams were practically nonexistent and the pillows were both perfectly cold. This, this is true peace.

[solcorvidae]

Modern Witcher AU: My Headcanons (part 4)

Jaskier’s full legal name is Julian Alfred Pankratz. His parents have called him Jaskier since he was a baby and it stuck. He is their little buttercup to this day. Jaskier will not respond to ‘Julian’ unless it is painfully obvious it’s him who’s being spoken to. Jaskier has never truly been ‘Julian’ but for whatever reason his parents never got his name legally changed. He has lived his whole life as Jaskier despite his paperwork, ID, passport, and medications all having PANKRATZ, Julian Alfred written on them. He will probably never do it himself either, leaving him stuck with a legal name he has never gone by.

Jaskier sizes down his base layer clothes to be slim-fitting and Geralt sizes up. They very easy could share most clothes (both ways) with no issue if they both wore clothes that actually fit how they are supposed to. However, since they don't, they run the risk of having Jaskier's T-shirts becoming stretched out.

Jaskier sticks to stealing Geralt's clothes. Geralt lets him.

Cats loathe Aiden. (Yes, he will be appearing at some point.)

Eskel’s voice carries through walls even when he is speaking quietly. It can be felt more than heard because it emanates so strongly from his chest.

Jaskier can do a scarily accurate impression of Geralt and can easily fool people over the CB radio.

Jaskier was a loud kid. Like the type of kid that will go up to a stranger, basically yell “DO YOU LIKE MY SHOES?” and then start aggressively stomping around in his light-up sketchers.

Jaskier’s family was initially unsure of Geralt when they first met. It only took twenty minutes for his mom and dad to decide they adored him. They think that he is the most polite young man and a pleasure to be around. They spend hours talking (having a friendly and enthusiastic interrogation) with him, asking Geralt a billion questions about himself and his relationship with their son… how they met, what they’ve been up to, where Geralt is from, etc. Geralt is overwhelmed but feels welcomed by the end of the night, no longer feeling the judgement boring into the back of his skull like he did when he’d first arrived.

Jaskier’s mom has plenty of embarrassing scrapbook photos of him throughout his life. Geralt half-jokingly asks to see them and she shows him every single one. Jaskier groans and hides behind his hands the whole time but finds the scene in front of him endearing… so he tolerates it.

Eskel makes tea for people. People he loves, people he’s comforting, his friends, his family, his lover, strangers, people who he’s just meeting for the first time… there’s tea for every occasion.

While Geralt’s creative outlet is painting, Eskel crochets. He makes his friends and family warm clothes to bundle up in during the winter months. He sews a custom made tag into each of his pieces. The tag reads: ‘Handmade with Love by Eskel Bellegarde’

Vesemir has three giant boxes of all the boys’ school work, projects, and art work. He vows to never get rid of any of it.

Vesemir drinks his morning coffee from a mug that is practically illegible at this point but had once upon a time said “World’s Best Dad!” across the front.

Geralt knows how to ride a motorcycle... he just doesn’t have one anymore. He bought a used one for a wicked deal in highschool but sold it for his old pickup when he realized how impractical it was only a few years later. He will probably let his license expire because he can’t be arsed to retake the test.

Geralt walks on his toes. His heels hardly ever touch the ground unless he is wearing supportive shoes. He walks near-silently when donning bare-feet or socks. However, he walks heel-to-toe when he wears his boots. He has custom insoles to prevent knee pain and the shoes really do help his aches and pains... but he can be heard for miles--especially when wearing his favourite cowboy boots. Think: a set of heels on an office building floor.

Lambert gets sympathy pains and feels ill when his loved ones are in pain or sick. This, along with the guilt he feels causes him to isolate and distance himself from them when he is not needed/wanted in the room. He is still very present and loving when he is around (even more than he usually is) but he feels tremendous guilt that leads him to spend far more time in his room/at a friends house than usual.

[Modern AU Headcanon Masterpost]

[tired-fandom-ndn]

The fact that Alastor is canonically more comfortable around women is so interesting to me.

He doesn't seem to mind it when Rosie and Nifty touch him or enter his personal space. Rosie also seems to be aware of his plans to some extent. Mimzy has been using him as a get out of jail free card for DECADES before he told her to stop.

Meanwhile, when he interacts with other men it is usually much more hostile. He humiliates Vox, keeps Zestial at a distance and refuses to share information, has a rivalry with Lucifer, and we all remember how the Husk scene went.

And that makes the idea of Alastor being in a lavender marriage in life so much more interesting, too.

Because Alastor is good with women, he genuinely LIKES spending time with them. Chances are he got along well with his wife, possibly being close friends.

And the more I think about it, the clearer I can see Alastor being raised by a single mother and developing "girly" hobbies, such as cooking or sewing, and being used to housework. A well-dressed man who hangs out with plenty of women but never makes an advance. There would be rumors about him being gay, and men would hate him either for getting too close to their wives, for being a pansy, or both.

Alastor, in hell, waiting patiently for his wife. Because she was his friend. Because she never loved him and he never loved her, but extra souls never hurt and he'd rather keep her close than let someone like Vox get his hands on her.

[context]

GOD ANON HOW DID YOU READ MY MIND

Like this is EXACTLY what I was picturing holy shit. Alastor raised by a single mother (or with a very absent and/or abusive father), taught how to cook, clean, sew, and garden. I headcanon that he was also a hunter from a pretty young age, but even then they worked together to make an income from the hunting, not just eating or selling the meat but also making clothes from the hides and furs. Alastor is, at his roots, a homemaker which was NOT at all typical for men in his time.

His mother also taught him how to respect women and treat them well, always the perfect gentleman, and that combined with his "oddities" and distrust of men definitely led to his friends being almost entirely women (probably with scattering of queer men). The rumors about him would've been RAMPANT, especially when combined with the racism he'd be facing anyway (Word of God says he's mixed, I headcanon him as Black and Choctaw on his mom's side, white on his dad's), which would just drive him further away from forming any sort of relationships with other men.

I think his wife (I've been headcanoning her as Black too, from a lowerclass family like Alastor's) was probably one of those friends, one of the many women who was easily charmed by his bright smiles and kindness but maybe one of the very, very few people who saw a hint of sharpness in his smile or heard the little thread of truth in his darker jokes. She didn't truly understand Alastor, not like Mimzy did, but she saw enough that he trusted they could have a relatively happy and open life together, with him using their marriage as a shield against suspicion. And the fact that their marriage would benefit her too, giving her more freedom than she would get from living with her family and letting her carry on her relationship with her own lover, was absolutely a bonus.

And they were happy. She didn't tell him about her lover, he didn't tell her about his little hobby, but they were happy. They made a home together, laughed and gossiped over meals, and filled their house with constant music and warmth. Their garden was the envy of their neighborhood (and if she wondered where he got the bones and blood their flowers loved so much, she never asked) and they were the life of every party they were invited to. They didn't love each other, but they didn't need to. They were friends and that's all that mattered.

And yeah, I think Alastor absolutely waited for her or sought her out in Hell. Maybe he never found her and was content in the knowledge that she made it into Heaven. Maybe he found her a few decades after his own death and offered her up a simple contract, something to protect her from other overlords while giving her as much freedom as an owned soul has. He keeps her on as one of his reserved souls (like I mentioned here) and they share meals together every so often and sometimes he summons her to act as a background singer or play an instrument to accompany his singing.

They never talk about their previous relationship, partially because it's just not important to who they are in Hell and partially because it would put her in too much danger. Alastor probably mentions having been married in life a few times and everyone just assumes that Mimzy was his wife and that her contract keeps her from talking about it.