#sweet boys asking each other for things they most certainly would be given <3

[stevebabey]

part one here. ze part two to touch-starved stevie that absolutely no one requested hehe <3 but i gots to let my boys have a wee kiss :")

So, hugs with Eddie become… well, a thing.

Not a thing. They’re not a thing, Steve and Eddie. It’s totally the same as when he gets hugs from Robin. Eddie’s doing him a favour as a friend. It’s got the 100% platonic energy of getting a hug from a friend — a hug that usually melts into some form of a cuddle, limbs all tangled together until they can’t tell whose are whose.

Except, Steve doesn’t really do that second part with Robin. Like he hasn’t done it ever with Robin.

So, it’s an Eddie thing.

But they’re not a thing. Not matter how much Steve would actually very much like for that happen. Okay, maybe Steve’s overthinking the whole thing a bit, but he just can’t tell.

Where’s the line? It’s infuriating not being able to discern between platonic and more, just because Steve wasn’t held enough as a fucking baby. Out of all the things he resents his parents for, Steve’s surprised that this is so near the top.

Because, sure, Steve’s had more than his fair share of hookups. He knows that sort of touch. He knows the shape of lust; the scrapes of fingernails down backs, the tight grips over skin, the push and pull of the heat of the moment.

And this thing with Eddie… is not that.

So, really, Steve knows that it’s all friendly. Eddie is just being nice. He’s being a decent dude and helping his friend out — by catapulting himself into Steve’s arms at every opportune moment.

(Steve’s only dropped 3 mugs of coffee because of this so far. It’s only because Eddie says good catch, big boy with a devilish grin every time that Steve manages to catch Eddie that Steve hasn’t completely told him to knock it off. Just yet, at least.)

And he’s different in other areas. He’ll always seem to choose the seat next to Steve on movie-nights now, content to snuggle right up to him. They get thigh to thigh, arm to arm — and Eddie only needs to get about 20 minutes in for him to do a big sigh, like an old dog, and slump over, resting his head on Steve’s shoulder.

Steve notices though. He always notices.

It’s impossible not to— the skin, even if there’s 3 layers between them, burns blazing warm. Eddie’s hair drapes over his arm, a curl inevitably tickling along Steve’s collar. He can feel the rise and fall of Eddie’s breathing, the little shake of when he laughs.

It drives Steve a little insane— insane in the way that makes him think about burying his fingers in those curls again, about pressing his lips against Eddie’s pretty mouth just to feel the smile against his skin, about digging into his chest so he can climb into his chest and live there.

Yeah, it’s— well, it’s safe to say that the effect of Eddie’s touchiness has sent what was once a fleeting thought of a crush into mind-melting levels of affection.

But he can’t fucking tell.

-

To Steve’s credit, neither can Eddie.

Which is not surprisingly considering sometimes he catches himself wondering how the hell he ended up here; in a close-knit friendship with band-geek Robin Buckley, princess Nancy Wheeler, and King Steve Harrington.

Okay, the Robin one sort of makes sense. He thinks that if no matter when their paths crossed, he and Robin would’ve always even some sort of strange friends - her snark complimenting his bitchiness. Also, the whole super queer thing helps too. Even the friendship with Nancy works, in its own weird way.

Steve though? He’s the fucking curve ball.

It works though, the two of them. Surprisingly well, actually — the two of them get on like a house on fire, bitchy quips back and forth. Even better, is the quiet that they can share. Steve loves to come around and do… nothing. Do nothing with Eddie, though.

So, even though Eddie had noticed the tension in Steve with touch, little moments where he turned rigid when Eddie’s usual wandering hands got too comfortable — Eddie chalked it up to the usual. Guys bring too uncomfortable with him, too weird about another guy being touchy. It didn’t matter than Eddie wasn’t even out to Steve yet, he was still might be that type of guy.

Well, Eddie had certainly thought so. Sure, Steve might not be one of those jocks who smacked around boys who looked too long in the locker room, but if he knew a smidge of the truth, who really knows. It would explain the tenseness at least.

But then— ‘Can I… have a hug?’ There had been a dozen things Eddie was thinking that Steve could’ve asked for but that? Wasn’t even in the ballpark. It was so left-field it left Eddie speechless for a whole moment. And Steve had been staring at the ceiling, his hands curled up tight again like- like he thought Eddie might say no.

A ridiculous thought, honestly. Anyone who knew Eddie well enough knew he was touchy; loved giving it, loved getting it. Like an overly affectionate cat, Wayne had once called him, just 11 years old, because Eddie’s need for affection seem to never be sated.

After that night, Steve’s lack of touch became far more obvious. It’s always hair ruffles or high-fives, yet never hugs. Normally, Eddie would keep to that boundary; some people are less touchy other than others, he knows that.

But… “Sometimes I realise it’s been awhile, since I’ve had some touch.” That’s what Steve had said, his words. Eddie doesn’t even think he meant to say something so heartbreaking. In fact, the guy seemed embarrassed.

It had thrown Eddie for a loop— because Steve gets around. He’s nearly notorious for one-night stands and failed flings, as Robin loves to drone on about considering she’s subjected to all the flirting. What had originally been a point of envy for Eddie, just saturates the bleakness of Steve’s words. Sex but without a moment of intimacy.

So, while Eddie is miles away from being the person who gets into Steve’s pants — not for lack of want, mind you — he does try hike up the touchiness. Little things. Lingering when he taps him on the arm, hooking his chin over Steve’s shoulder to peer over it, leaning up against him when they’re side by side watching a film.

It’s good. It helps Eddie release the pressure of his stupid monumental god-awful crush he has. Yeah, yeah, it’s laughable, even to Eddie. It’s like Gay 101; don’t get crush on straight dudes, especially the ones you’re friends with. And yet…

Steve lets him. He lets Eddie give him touch, more than he lets anyone else. He still tenses; there’s still always a moment before he can remember to relax, like he’s trying to shake off bad thoughts but then he melts. He always melts into Eddie’s touch eventually — in a way Eddie knows Steve actually loves it, drinks it up as much as he can.

And maybe, Eddie is the biggest fool to grace the Earth to let that fact give him some hope. Sue his gooey heart, he’s a romantic. It’s a quiet hope but, it’s there.

Tonight, it seems relaxing for Steve is been harder than usual— several times has Eddie traced a quite long along Steve’s arms, a subtle point that they were far too tense for someone who was wrapped up in cuddles on the couch. ‘Cos that’s 100% what they are now. Eddie will still call them hugs, but usually, when it’s just the two of them, it becomes this.

Steve, tucked up into the corner of the couch, one leg flush along the back of the couch and one hanging off the edge. It’s the prime position for Eddie to crawl up, wind his arms around Steve’s middle and give him a good squeeze and then settle there. Head on Steve’s chest, lying in the cradle of his hips. Safe. Warm.

It makes him warm, oh very warm to know that he gets this. That Steve doesn’t give this amount of trust to many, if any, other people but Eddie — he trusts Eddie.

“Y’know,” Eddie says, cheeks smushed against the plain of Steve’s pec. It feels deliciously warm and Eddie’s fairly sure he can feel how toned it is just through his cheek. Hot bastard. “I’m actually real glad you asked for that hug all those weeks ago.”

He leaves it there ‘cos he knows Steve will ask. Eddie’s eyes stay on the buzzing tv-screen even as Steve’s head shifts, turning to peer down at the boy slumped on his chest. Eddie’s pretty sure he can see Steve’s mouth twitch up into a smile.

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah,” Eddie affirms, giving a nod and his eyes flick up to meet Steve’s for just a moment. “Think I’ve had some of the best hugs in the world.”

Okay, that was maybe more honest and sappy than Eddie was going for. He is just letting Steve know he isn’t just doing it for Steve — that he enjoys these moments just as much. He lays it on thick, tries for a smarmy angle.

“Swept up in these pillowy arms?” He croons, giving Steve’s bicep a quick squeeze, making the other chuckle softly. “Who wouldn’t think so? I’m a lucky guy.”

Despite the joking tone, there’s no quick comeback from Steve. That’s alright. Eddie’s quite happy if this is one of the times Steve just takes the compliment; let’s the word sink in and hopefully, believes them, even if it’s just a little bit. He watches the film and doesn’t read into the silence.

Not even when Steve says, “Eddie?” all soft. Nearly shy sounding. It doesn’t quite register to Eddie’s ears.

“Mm?”

“Eddie.” Steve says again, a little firmer and that catches Eddie’s attention. He turns his head and rests his chin on Steve’s chest, his brows drawn together in silent question.

But the moment he makes eye contact, Steve’s doing that scrunched up face again. Is studying the ceiling instead of facing Eddie. And just like all those weeks ago, his hands clench up tight. Twists up the fabric of Eddie’s sweater in between his fingers and uses it to ground himself.

Last time, he asked for a hug. Considering he’s currently just about squishing Steve beneath his body weight, Eddie can’t fathom what he might be worked up to ask for. Unless he was going to ask for something more than a hug— which, well, just wasn’t going to happen, even if Eddie really wanted it to.

“Can I-” Steve starts. He sucks in a breath, almost like he’s gathering courage. But he’s not, because he’s not about to ask for what Eddie hopes for, he’s not, he’s—

Unless…?

“Can I… have a kiss?” Steve asks, barely audible. The sentence is murmured, soft words that hit Eddie like a gentle kiss in itself — imprinting right onto his heart. Steve Harrington wants a kiss — from him!

“Oh.” Eddie says, in a breathy delightful way. He’s fairly certain the little monkey in his brain is clapping its cymbals at double-speed as the words process; or maybe it’s his heart, which feels like it’s leapt up his throat.

“Oh?” Steve echoes, a smile already playing at the edges of his mouth, because he can see Eddie’s want. Because he knows him.

“Yes.” Eddie says suddenly, with a frantic nod, pushing up closer so their faces are aligned. “Yes, absolutely, you can.” He affirms.

Steve huffs a quiet laugh at the eagerness and then his arm that had been slung around Eddie shifts. It moves up til his hand caresses along the line of Eddie’s jaw, tilting him just how he likes.

Eddie holds his breath. Counts the freckles he can see this close. Tries to feel Steve’s heartbeat through where they’re pressed so closely together; can Steve feel his? Thundering and hurried, beating so hard Eddie thinks he might bruise the inside of his ribs.

Then Steve kisses him. And shit, Steve’s lip are better by ten-fold than every daydream Eddie’s ever had about them. They’re warm and so soft — plush and pressing against his own and Eddie is freezing. Fuck, wait, how does this go again? Right, Eddie’s never… well, kissed anybody before.

Steve pulls back and Eddie screws his eyes up — not ready in the slightest for the disappointment of his own shoddy kissing skills. Fuck, did he really just freeze? Steve — Steve Harrington — asks for a kiss and Eddie decides to stab himself in the back by not figuring out how to fuck to kiss back.

“You call that a kiss?” Steve teases and Eddie’s well aware of the parallel — of the irony of Steve repeating his own words back at him. But he can’t make himself laugh even though it’s funny. Instead, a little groan wiggles out his throat.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie says, earnest. He forces his eyes opens — he needs to see what’s Steve’s thinking. Where he’s expecting disappointment or perhaps regret, is only patience. Maybe a touch of concern. Eddie continues, despite the humiliation that makes his throat sticky.

“I haven’t- I don’t do this often.” He coughs awkwardly clearing his throat and hoping it hides the next word. “Ever.”

There’s a jump in Steve’s eyebrows, a moment of surprise in his eyes that lets him know he did, indeed, hear that final word. It makes Eddie feel… well, it’s nice that Steve had expected him to have been kissed by now. Even if he hasn’t. He tries to take it as a compliment.

“That’s okay,” Steve assures. Absentmindedly, his thumb rubs soothing along Eddie’s jaw. It makes Eddie shiver, some outrageous amount of joy clawing into every nerve. Steve likes Eddie. He wants to kiss Eddie.

“Do you want to try again?”

Eddie nods before the questions even out of his mouth. Steve smiles, all sunshine. This time when he draws Eddie in, he notices the way Eddie holds his breath — the rigidness in his body.

Steve kisses him again, another short and soft one and then whispers against his lips, “Relax.”

‘Cos isn’t tonight just full of the parallels, Eddie thinks. He listens, tries to focus on how sweet Steve’s kiss is than his panicky heart, forcing out a breath between the kisses. His hands along Steve’s sides find a grip, grounding and good, and by the fourth kiss, he begins to feel a bit melty.

It’s good. It’s really good. Kissing Steve is top 5– nay, the top moment of his life so far. Somehow, it’s made all that much better knowing the build-up behind it. Knowing that Steve knows he isn’t just kissing him for a heat of the moment — that Eddie wants kisses here, kisses before bed, in the morning, on dates. Eddie wants Steve.

And with the way he kisses, Eddie’s pretty sure Steve wants him just as bad.

It doesn’t take long for Steve to reach what Eddie decides is an ultra pretty fuckin’ state; lips swollen from kisses, cheeks flushed, hair a little mussed up. He bets he looks no better. The thought makes him grin, enough they have to break the kiss ‘cos Eddie can’t stop his stupid happy grin ‘cos shit— he actually gets to have this Steve.

“What?” Steve asks, somehow half heart-eyed and half suspicious at the mischief in Eddie’s eyes.

“Can I... have a hickie?”

now with a part three !

#at this point call this the 'can i' series #sweet boys asking each other for things they most certainly would be given <3 #but don't think they will <3 #tried to flip it and make it so even tho eddie is used to touch. the romantic touch? he's got none! that's where he's touch-starved #ALSO EVERYONE'S TAGS WERE SO NICE ON THE LAST ONE #trust i am. not feelin so bad nowadays (me saying this like 4 days later lmao) #but <3 thank u all #gay ppl in my phone.... you know what to do #ruby writes steddie #steve x eddie #steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #touch-starved steve harrington #not rlly anymore hehe #does anyone notice that it ends with yet another 'can i?" question? HEHE #yet again stib gets kisses where ruby doesn't but alas <3 dis is way fluffier this time #nearly went the angst route! and went hmmmm naur #ok ok i'll be quiet now

[filterpermanentlyattached]

...And the Rise of Chaos

Have I just been rewatching Seasons 1 & 2 until I had time to sit down and get my thoughts together? Yes, yes I have. 

I think we all can agree that given Ezekiel’s movie expertise, he would have been yelling at the dude going to open the sarcophagus. You just don’t do that. 

Way ahead of you as always. First of all, all the Librarians working together is a recipe for chaos itself if not just a bit of drama. I think it was really funny that Ezekiel pulled up and then just automatically slid over so Eve could drive. Why not let the baby drive? He’s plenty old enough. I feel like I need a dramatic Ezekiel driving backstory. 

I love Eve training Jake. She’s got 4 Librarians, she needs to know that they can hold their own or that if they need a secondary protector, not including Flynn, one of the LIT’s are capable. 

That poor janitor. 

Alright, I’m just going to take a moment to appreciate the new look Ezekiel has going on. Shorter hair, closer fitting shirt, he looks amazing. Go ahead, say it, we’re the best team you’ve ever seen.”  They are a pretty phenomenal team, whether Jenkins says it out loud or not. “You’re mothers did not hug you enough...”  you know what, you’re probably right on that one Jenkins, certainly more so than you’d like to be. “I saw their true potential”...ugh, they are doing great Eve, give them and yourself a little bit of credit. Ah, Ezekiel and Cassandra both agreeing that using magic even just a little is okay. They won’t be corrupted...well, Ezekiel won’t, I don’t think we can say much about Cassandra. 

Flynn standing so close to Ezekiel, is there a reason for that? First it was the patting all 3 LIT’s on the shoulders, then it’s looking to Ezekiel and standing really close to him. Sometimes I wonder about Flynn’s lack of personal space. 

The boys geeking out over the submarine is something that is highly entertaining. I laugh every time. Ezekiel saying “no one likes to drink alone” makes me wonder if that’s an opinion from experience. 

I was wondering where Ezekiel’s popcorn was for this briefing from Jenkins until Flynn brought out the s’mores. Way to kill the mood by bringing up Stumpy. Ezekiel being the most interactive in the briefing just shows us his intelligence a little more. Eve and Flynn both getting into Ezekiel’s space to tell him No Subs! was peak mom and dad scolding their son behavior. Cassandra uninviting Flynn and Jake to her birthday, she’ll have a blast with Eve, Ezekiel, and Jenkins I guess. Ezekiel pointing out it was ticking when they were too busy gushing about the clock and Eve was feeling stressed. I do wonder why they all looked to Ezekiel when they decided it was a latitude and longitude, does he just always look that stuff up? I love Professor Ezekiel Jones explaining how the workings of a combination lock is beautiful. Just, chef’s kiss, mwah! His adorable “nothing” when Stone asked what he touched, he’s just a baby. But then the baby gets to attempt to steer and/or get back control of the sub. This stuff is from the 80′s, I’m a millennial I don’t know hot to run any of this Atari crap. Dear sweet boy, you are doing your best and that’s good enough. I do wonder if any of them were actually worried for the 2 boys trapped under water in a submarine, I sure was stressed. And then he’s got his muscles out in that wet shirt, whew boy, you have been hiding under all of those baggy and ill-fitting shirts for too long. The whole yelling at each other thing was cute only because I think they really needed that. 

Coming back with that song? For real? Is that the only one they all knew?! This is one of those scenes that while necessary, gives me major second hand embarrassment. 

I’m pretty sure Ezekiel could have escaped when those DOSA losers showed up. He’d have come back for the others or done what he could to get them out and get the artifact back. All of them just walking out behind the chaos is so funny. First they defeat chaos with harmony, then they let chaos run and got themselves out. 

I love Ezekiel wanting to start a band and Cassandra coming up with a name all while Jake just tries to tune them out. They are definitely a family. 

Jenkins bringing Flynn tea as he grapples with the idea that danger is here. Get ready Librarians because it’s about to be a long ride!

#The Librarians #flynn carsen #eve baird #cassandra cillian #Ezekiel Jones #season3

[seokjinsdisciple]

forbidden fruit - part one

mark x reader (literally all smut and completely self-indulgent)

mark is the epitome of innocence. pastor’s son and good christian boy. can he be tempted by the forbidden fruit?

UNEDITED

if you see this and you know me. inreal life, no you didn’t 

word count: 3.8k (blame red wine me)

warnings: language, fingering, choking kinda? (mark chokes himself), mutual masturbation, mommy kink, handjob, sub mark, blowjob, mentions of virginity and religion, uh wet dreams, sex toys, probably more lmk what i missed

You had met Mark 3 years ago in your church’s youth group. You never really liked church if you were honest, finding the whole thing rather stupid. However, Mark made coming to church very worth it. He was your age, the pastor’s son and probably the most handsome boy in your small town. 

You spent your high school years pining after the boy. Your hormones were out of control and associating all horniness with his face. A real problem when you had to spend hours with him at church. 

You ran into him one day on your campus your freshman year, his face lighting up as the two of you made small talk. You talked pretty regularly after that, becoming closer than you had been before, and when the two of you moved in together you thought all of your wet dreams were about to come true. 

At least until Mark drunkenly confessed to you one night that he was “like totally a virgin, dude.” 

The two of you were giggling messes, too many bottles of empty soju surrounding where you sat on the floor. Mark’s cheeks were deep red seconds after the words came out of his mouth. 

“Yo, I can’t believe I just said that, omg,” he said, hands covering his face as his ears reddened. 

“It’s ok, Mark,” you giggled, pulling his hands off of his face, “I kinda figured you were.”

You hadn’t, but you didn’t want him to feel embarrassed, and you certainly didn’t want him to stop talking about it. 

“Really?” he asked, a hopeful look on his face, “are you too?”

“No,” you giggled, hands covering your own face now, Mark’s whine ringing out in your mostly empty living room. 

“This-uh,” Mark whispered, “Sorry if this is uh- a weird question and you totally don't have to answer if you don't want to dude, but what did it feel like?”

So you told him, you answered every question he had that night. And when the two of you drunkenly parted ways, it was with a stickiness between your legs and an obvious tent in his pants. And that was the start of your current relationship with Mark.

It had been awkward at first, after that night. But he had started asking you more and more questions. They started off innocently enough, like what kissing felt like. Yeah, he was that innocent. But the questions started getting more and more sexual, and it was getting harder and harder to control yourself around him. 

You found yourself starting off simply at first. Changing what you wore around the house. It began by you wearing shorter and shorter pj bottoms. And then by wearing tops that gradually increased in sheerness, until you started just wearing oversized t-shirts. Losing pieces of underwear as you went.

Yeah, you were trying to seduce him. But who could blame you? Mark was the center of your wet dreams, and he had been so since the start of 8th grade. So who were you to deny his request?

It had been a regular Tuesday, classes attended and dinner shared when a blushing Mark had turned to you on the couch. 

“Something has been happening to me,” he confessed, his bright pink cheeks enough to make you soften. 

“Are you ok?” you had asked, completely convinced that he had never approached any topic like this before with you. 

“It’s just-,” he started, glancing nervously to the clasped hands in his lap, “I’ve been thinking about all the answers you’ve given me about...sex and all that. And well everytime that happens, I get this...heat in my abdomen. And no matter what I can’t make it go away.”

“Mark-,” you breathed out, glancing swiftly down to where, sure enough, there was a tent in his pants, “Are you talking about being horny?”

“I don’t- I don’t know what you mean,” he whispered, flushing an (impossibly) deeper shade of pink. 

“Oh sweetheart,” you whispered, “Are you feeling the heat in your abdomen now?”

You smiled gently as he nodded shyly back at you. Encouraging him with your facial expression as you hummed in acknowledgement.

“This is called being horny, Mark.” you spoke, much more calmly and clearly than you thought possible because of the heat tickling your own lower half. “What do you normally do when you feel this way?”

“I-I don’t normally do anything,” Mark admitted, eyes flicking up to yours for just a moment before settling back to his own clasped hands, “I just try to distract myself until it goes away.”

“Oh you poor thing,” you whispered, drawing your hand up to Mark’s face and caressing it gently, “Have you ever made yourself cum, Mark?”

Mark looked up at you again, confusion on his brow as he shook his head, “I don’t know-know what you mean.”

“You’re such a sweet angel,” you said, “Would you like me to show you how you can make it go away?”

Mark’s eyes connected with yours, and finally, they stayed there. He looked deep in thought, but before you could rush to apologize and hurry back to your room, he spoke.

“You can make it go away?” he asked hesitantly, and god did you want to ruin him on the spot. Wrap your lips around him and make him curse the lord he so deeply believed in. But you held back. The last thing you wanted to do was scare him away. 

“I can show you,” you spoke slowly, “if you want me to.”

“I think I might like that,” he whispered, the bob of his adams apple making you grow damp between your thighs. There was just something about Mark that made you insatiably hungry. And not for a meal. 

You scooted closer to him on the couch, ignoring the thumping of your heart and the wetness between your legs as you spoke, “I’m gonna tell you what you need to do. And you’re gonna listen, aren't you, baby?”

Mark’s eyes widened as he gulped, but he still nodded his head. You felt a little bad for how nervous he seemed, considering how excited you were. 

“Are you sure you want to do this?” You asked, analyzing his face closely. When he nodded you just tutted at him, “I need words, Mark.”

“Yeah,” he spoke, “I really want to do this.”

“Okay,” you smiled gently at him, “I want you to start by letting your hands explore. Touch everywhere, slowly, and find what feels best for you, Mark.”

You watched intently as he slowly brought his hand up to his neck, letting his fingers hesitantly dance across his skin. His eyes shot to yours when he shuddered, unable to stop himself. 

“Is-is that good?” he asked, whining as he dropped his hand to his chest. 

“You’re doing so good, Mark,” you encouraged, hesitantly placing your hand on his thigh, “Is it ok if I touch you like this?”

Mark nodded so quickly you almost laughed, the blush dusting his cheeks almost as cute as the way he squirmed under your grasp. His breathing increased as you crept your fingers slowly up his thigh. You let your hand rest on his hip, splaying your fingers so close to his dick but so far away.

“You’re- you’re making it worse,” he stuttered out, letting out a shocked moan as his fingers brushed over his nipple.

“No, baby,” you smirked at him, “I’m making it better.”

Mark’s cock jumped in his sweats, his blush deepening as he let out another quiet moan, “I- I like it when you call me that.”

“Hmm,” you hummed, “I’m glad you like being called baby, it suits you.”

His breath hitched as you dipped a finger beneath the band of his sweats, letting it rest there. You smiled when his hands met yours, grabbing his pants and tugging them off. You almost moaned as his glistening red cock slapped his stomach. He hadn’t been wearing underwear. 

“What do I do now?” he whispered, eyes blown out with lust and hair perfectly tousled. 

You let your finger trail up to where a bead of precum rested on the head of his dick. You watched as his face scrunched in pleasure, breath knocked out of him as you swirled the wetness around the tip. 

“Make sure your hand is wet enough,” you said, spitting into your hand, smirking as Mark’s eyes shot open at the noise, flickering down to where your hand was hovering over his cock. 

You watched as he swallowed, his own fingers curling into the couch as he said, “Will you please touch me now?”

“How could I say no when my baby asks so nicely,” you said, eyes never leaving his face as you finally wrapped a hand around his length. 

Mark was a sight to behold. Sweat glistened on his forehead as you wrapped your hand tightly around his cock. The guttural moan he let out was enough to have you cumming in your pants, but you held strong. Well as strong as you could as he clung onto your form. You dragged your hand slowly up his length, thumb flicking over the head of his cock as he groaned into your shoulder. 

You felt on top of the world, Mark’s pleasure the direct response to every flick of your wrist. You barely recognized him. Whining, needy mess as he mewled into your shoulder. 

“Mo-mommy,” he whimpered, hands quickly finding your core, “Can I touch you too?”

Who were you to deny your polite boy, quickly and ungracefully shoving your panties to the side to give Mark an easier access to your heat. You’d be lying if you said the term mommy had no effect on you. In fact, you were dripping at this point, just one look at Mark enough to make your pussy throb in need. Not that you would tell him that. 

“Baby,” you said quietly, guiding Mark’s over-enthusiastic hand to your clit, “right here, keep rubbing in circles.”

“Yes, mommy,” he whimpered, shoving his reddened face into your shoulder as your wrist moved quicker up and down his length. 

“Good boy,” you groaned, squirming where you sat on the couch as Mark slipped a finger into your dripping cunt. 

You were getting each other off at an inhuman pace, the two of you squirming and wiggling where you sat. The pleasure of it all too much to take. This was Mark’s first time feeling any contact on his cock, and you’d be lying if you said you never dreamed of Mark’s fingers pumping into you at the pace they were now. 

This was the definition of a wet dream, for both of you. And as you came with his fingers reaching a place in you no one else had reached before, you were determined to make Mark cum. 

You flicked your thumb around the head of his cock, watching with half lidded eyes as he shuddered. He was putty in your hands, and there was no way in hell that he would ever be able to touch himself the way you were touching him now. And you didn’t care. The only thing you cared about in this moment was throwing him off the edge with you. Corrupting that sweet little church boy the only way you knew how. 

It was with a satisfying grin and an earth-shattering moan from Mark as you watched cum spurt from him. Eyes scrunched in pleasure as his entire body shook with a feeling he had never experienced before. An orgasm. 

You watched in wonder as he clung onto you. Sweat dripped from his forehead as he threw his head back on the couch. You watched as his cock twitched as rope after rope of cum sprung from him, years of pent up pleasure finally releasing at your hands. You had never felt more powerful in that moment. 

You parted that night with a sweet kiss to his lips after cleaning him up. Boneless Mark even more pliable than before, and as much as you hated yourself for it, you couldn’t stop thinking about what you could do to a sleepy Mark. That night there was no awkwardness between you. 

That, of course, changed as time passed, both of you ignoring the mutual pleasure you had achieved by the other's hand. You ignored any feelings you had, whether it be attraction or lust. Mark deliberately avoided you, and as much as you hated to admit it, but you avoided him too. 

You were convinced the two of you would never recover from this, from your experimentation with each other's bodies. At least until he burst into your room one Sunday afternoon, notably after his father’s church service, with a question and burning cheeks. 

“Have you ever given a blowjob?” he asked, the door to your bedroom swinging into the wall with a loud bang that neither of you could hear. 

“Mark?” you asked, putting your laptop to the side as you looked quizzically up at him.

“I watched one..porn video about it last week and I haven't been able to focus since.”

“You watch porn now?” you asked, raising a critical eyebrow as you looked him up and down.

“I-, no” Mark stuttered, face flushing an impossibly deeper shade of red, “yes, what about it?”

“You sound sure of yourself,” you teased, “come sit.”

“Never mind-”Mark rushed out, turning away from you and hurrying towards your open door. 

“Sit, Mark. Now please,” you spoke, dominance in your tone as you watched his body language change. 

You smiled softly to yourself as he shuffled to your bed, sitting on the edge and avoiding your gaze. 

“Did you have a question for me, baby?”

You almost laughed as he sighed, body immediately relaxing at the nickname he had told you he loved so much. 

“I was just wondering,” he said, glancing up at you and losing his confidence, “haveyouevergivenablowjob?”

“What was that? I couldn’t quite catch that, Mark,” you said, knowing glance as you watched his lips form into a perfect pout.

“Are you really gonna make me ask again,” he whispered, looking down from where his eyes previously met yours. 

“Yes, baby, I am.”

You grasped his hand as he whined, squeezing his palm slightly as he pouted up at you. 

“Have you ever given a blowjob?” he whispered, eyes glancing to every corner of the room to avoid your gaze. 

“I have.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle as his eyes met yours curiously. Fingers playing with your comforter as you watched the wheels turning in his brain. You were begging him to ask, practically groveling for him to say the words that would fuel the corruption kink you had solely for Mark. 

“Can you…” Mark started, scotting subconsciously closer to you, “can you give me one?”

“Well that depends on you, Mark. Do you think you deserve my mouth?”

You watched with bated breath as he nodded, a tent already fully formed in his pants as the conversation went on.

“What makes you think you deserve it, huh? You’ve been ignoring me for weeks, Mark. After Mommy made you feel so good. You ignored me, and now I find out you’ve been watching porn. Being such a naughty boy. Doesn’t really seem right to give you my mouth.”

You had him now, hook line and sinker. He was trapped, listening to every one of your words, waiting with bated breath as you made up your mind. 

“I- I’ve never felt it before, Mommy. I promise I’ll be better next time. I’ll do better next time. Just please suck me off,” he begged, filthy words dripping from his mouth in desperation. 

“I’m ruining you, Mark,” you whispered, “Absolutely destroying your sweet innocence. What about your God, Mark? Would he want you to beg for my mouth like you just did?”

“I-,” he started, quieting as you pushed a finger towards his lips. 

“It’s ok, baby. I’ll make you worship that God of yours in a way you didn’t even know was possible. 

You steadied his shaking body as you switched him places on your bed. Sitting in front of him in your disgustingly dirty pj top and messy bun as he laid in front of you. You tugged his pants down, licking your lips in want as his cock slapped his stomach. 

You wanted this just as much as he did, evident by your drool and dirty thoughts. You hadn’t noticed his sizable length before, too focused on all of the other unbelievable things that had happened before wrapping your hand around his cock. You took it all in now, the glory of Mark’s cock, pulsing red and so incredibly hard in need. If he hadn’t whimpered you would’ve stared at this beautiful sight for hours. But he was needy and so were you. So you wrapped your mouth around him. And dear God was Mark a sight to behold.

He had stars in his eyes as your tongue ran up the length of his cock. He could barely contain himself as his hips bucked up into your mouth. Politeness leaving his body as he followed his craving for pleasure. 

Within seconds his hands were in your hair. Tugging as you worked your mouth over his sensitive length. He was barely holding it together, and the second you reached the bottom of his cock, he cursed. 

His hips were itching to move, you could feel the way they bucked ever so slightly as you took him. Your hands grasped his thigh tightly as he unintentionally pushed your head down. You were taking as much as he gave you, and as he whined in pleasure you couldn’t help  A second later he wasn’t touching you anymore, eyes wide when you glanced up at him. 

“So-sorry,” he whispered, for what you weren’t sure. 

“What’s wrong, Mark?” you asked gently. 

“I should go,” he said, face paling as he scooted further away from you on the bed, “This isn’t right.”

You stood up quickly, sitting beside him and cupping his face in your hands, “Mark you can go if you want to, I won’t stop you. But do you really think something that felt so good could be bad?”

“I-I don’t know,” he whispered, shying away from your touch, “I’m going to the library.”

He stood up quickly, half tripping as he tried to pull his pants back up, fumbling with himself and the door as he tried to leave. 

“Mark,” you called out to him, waiting until he turned to meet your gaze before continuing, “It’s ok that you aren’t ready yet. But I’m always here if you have more questions.”

He nodded at you, “Thank you, for understanding,” blush returning to his cheeks as he spoke, “I feel comfortable around you, Yn.”

He closed the door after he left, and while your Sunday afternoon was spent attached to a vibrator, you were glad Mark had felt comfortable enough with you to tell you that he wasn’t comfortable. 

Maybe you had pushed him too far, and as much as it killed you, you were glad he was taking his time. If your baby wasn’t ready to go any further than handjobs, then that was that. He was too innocent to be corrupted, which is what made corrupting him all the better. 

Yes, Mark had been full of curiosity and questions. But you were the one who wasn’t ready for the question he asked next.

#mark smut #mark angst #mark fluff #mark fanfic #mark lee smut #mark lee angst #mark lee fluff #mark lee fanfic #mark tuan smut #mark tuan angst #mark tuan fluff #mark tuan fanfic #this i wrote with mark lee in mind but its hot either way

[denkamis]

Can you please write a fluff one shot about a sk8 the infinity like his girlfriend/boyfriend/s/o falls asleep on him

to anon: omg first request omgomg thank you so much for sending one in! i wasn’t sure which sk8 character you were referring to, so i decided to write one for both reki and langa! hope you don’t mind hehe <3 this is the one for reki, the one for langa will take a little bit longer bc of valentine’s & other requests but i hope you like this one regardless!

warnings: none, just some fluffy times with the best boy. reader is gn!

word count: 1.3k

sleepyhead. (reki x reader)

Late nights were certainly not a rare occurrence with your boyfriend, Reki. He was filled to the brim with energy and passion that practically flowed out of him like a geyser. Not that you were opposed to that at all, you found that it was one of the qualities that made you fall for him in the first place. Though, you worried that he wasn’t taking into consideration his own personal health during these late night excursions. Take for instance tonight, as it was slowly approaching two thirty am, it seemed that the redhead had no clear intention of stopping his work.

The two of you were cooped up in his workshop behind his house, Reki singing along to some “cool jams” as he called them. In reality, it was his Spotify playlist of the “best 2000’s alternative” music like Sk8er Boi by Avril Lavigne and Dear Maria, Count Me In by All Time Low. You were barely hanging onto your string of consciousness, the mere idea of sleep sounding like absolute heaven at this very moment. You were propped up on a stool in the corner, the stack of skating magazines Reki had given you to flick through in case you got bored now sat in a neat pile off to the side. You had read each one of them front to back twice already tonight.

It wasn’t that you didn’t love spending time with Reki. You enjoyed listening to his midnight ramblings of whatever came to mind. His ideas for new boards, designs for stickers, and other creative ways to beat his future S opponents were usually his topics of interest. No one really noticed how much of an imaginative person your boyfriend was. He could be impulsive and over excited at times, but his fantastic mind and his willingness to create made your heart soar. Not only that, but he was fairly handy when it came to fixing up and assembling his own boards like he was some mad scientist waiting for one of his many experiments to go right. You indulged him as much as you could, you really did enjoy his company. Even if you would much rather be curled up beside him snuggling in bed rather than hear Reki precariously make his way through the lyrics of Check Yes Juliet for what seemed like the seventh time.

“Reki,” you spoke up finally as the analog clock on the wall indicated the current time of two forty-three am. Reki looked up from Langa’s custom longboard, hair bouncing about despite already being contained by the headband he wore everyday. “Yeah?” he asked, throwing a glance over his shoulder only to see your weary eyelids and tired expression. His entire demeanour melted, lips jutted out in a tiny pout upon seeing his poor baby so tired.

He backed away from his worktable, dancing and tiptoeing across the floor to avoid stepping on any spare parts or tools he had left lying about his mishmash of a workshop.

“Is baby tired?” he cooed, sawdusted fingers beginning to tug and pinch at the corners of your cheeks. You groaned in annoyance, your sleep deprived state causing you to be a tad more irritable at this hour. “Reki,” you repeated in a more serious tone, ember coloured irises meeting your e/c ones. His calloused hands moved to cup your face, warmth enveloping you in a way that felt like home. The scent of pine and the remnants of orange crush soda invaded your senses. He smiled at you with that goofy face of his, the one that Langa constantly teased for being weird. Maybe it was your sleepy nature, but he looked even more gorgeous in the harsh LED lighting of his garage. Tiny strands of his auburn hair fell in front of his face as he tilted his head to the side, his smile growing as he watched your eyes begin to droop.

“Please. Let’s go to bed,” you asked of him as kindly yet firmly as you could. Reki clicked his tongue a bit, thinking for a moment before delivering a cute peck to your nose. “A few more minutes! Then we can head inside, grab a cookie or two and crawl into bed together! It’ll be just a jiffy okay? Here, you can even set an alarm,” Reki was already reaching for his phone in his hoodie pocket so that you could do just as he suggested. He stopped in his tracks as he felt your hands clasp around his hoodie, pulling him close so that you could hug his torso. He laughed at how clingy you could be while being so sleepy, his hand patting atop your head as a form of affection.

“Wow, you really are.. sleeping,” Reki’s voice trailed off as he looked down to be greeted by you completely passed out against him. Your arms held your boyfriend close, your face buried within the fabric of his yellow skater boy hoodie. Soft snores escaped you, your breathing slowed and calm as you finally let your consciousness slip out of your ever fleeting grasp. Reki’s face began to bloom with colour the longer he stared at you, panic setting in as he realized what was truly happening.

You had fallen asleep against him. Oh shit. Oh god. You were asleep against him. That meant you were so comfortable that you just so happened to pass out in his arms. Reki bit back a giddy smile, warmth cascading through him in a form of nothing but love radiating solely for you at nearly three in the morning. His heart thumped rapidly against his rib cage. No matter how long he had been with you, he kept discovering new things about you that made him absolutely lose his mind. You falling asleep against him definitely being one of those many things. You looked so peaceful, so unbothered and safe within his embrace. This warmth you had given him overtook his will to keep working, his hands moving your hair out of the way of your face to kiss your forehead.

“Sorry for making you stay up, sweet baby,” he apologized in a quiet tone. His hands moved your arms to around his neck, using his strength to lift you up and wrap your legs securely around his waist. “I can’t say I’m not grateful for you being here for me, though. You could have left too, yet you stayed here for me,” Reki spoke to your sleeping form. The fact that you had stayed up with him this late made him even more grateful to have you. Reki grunted a bit as he adjusted to the newfound weight of you around him, your hair getting in his mouth and his eyes squinting to find the light switch so that he could flick it off before leaving. Reki was always careful with you, handling you as if you were a sort of glass figurine he barely even had the permission to touch.

“You look so damn cute like this, y’know,” he continued to speak as he maneuvered his way about his house, trying his best to subdue his footsteps and make as little noise as possible. He didn’t want to wake up his mom or little sisters. “Man, I’m so lucky. Seriously really lucky to have someone like you in my life.”

In your sleep, you subconsciously nuzzled your head against his chest. He melted a bit, holding back a tiny noise of happiness as he began to beam like an idiot holding his partner. You were the most amazing person, the person who made him happy every single day without fail, the person who picked him up no matter how much he bailed or got hurt. He loved you more than anything, and he wanted to treat you as well as you treated him. Even if it meant carrying you to bed after a late night of him talking your ear off about skateboarding for three consecutive hours.

all works © denkamis 2021.

tags:

@meilbox

wanna be on the taglist? see this post!

#reki kyan #reki kyan x reader #reki x reader #sk8 the infinity #sk8 the infinity x reader #sk8 x reader #sk8 fluff #denkamis.oneshots #denkamis.requests

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Begone, Bitch

Prompts: Hi ! I just wanted to say that i love your stories and the way you write the characters ! If you want, could you write about Virgil being comforted by the other sides, or him getting hurt while protecting the others ? - anon

I am beyond grateful for every fic you write, you are so good at pushing all the right emotional buttons to just make my entire day. I don't want to be greedy since you already make so much good content, but in 'Lie to Me' there was that little one off scene in the kitchen where Virgil pushes Janus behind him to 'protect ' him from Roman and I *cannot* stop thinking about it. I would die for a whole fic of Virgil protecting Janus(and the others, but mostly Janus, I like when people are sweet to the snake boy) from danger by physically shielding him with his body. Overprotective Virgil is my favorite. So this is a prompt/request but only if you really really want to <3 And thank you for writing such wonderful fic. - awitchbravestheverge

Ah yes more opportunities to write in Virgil's narration style.

Read on Ao3

Warnings: none, not really. Some creepy shadow shit from the Subconcious and Virgil gets a little hurt but nothing graphic

Pairings: platonic found family babey

Word Count: 4504

The Subconscious is a nasty piece of work. It’s not quite powerful enough to overtake the Mindscape by itself, Roman and Remus do too good of a job holding the barriers in the Imagination, but that doesn’t mean little shits don’t worm their way through every now and then. Guess who gets the fantastic job of being alert to each and every single one of them?

No fucking prizes for guessing who.

The Subconscious is a nasty piece of work. It’s not quite powerful enough to overtake the Mindscape by itself, Roman and Remus do too good of a job holding the barriers in the Imagination, but that doesn’t mean little shits don’t worm their way through every now and then. Guess who gets the fantastic job of being alert to each and every single one of them?

No fucking prizes for guessing who.

For the most part, Virgil’s able to work undetected. Or, well, no, the others will see him doing shit but they don’t know that’s what he’s doing. He just has to stand between them and whatever gross slimy black thing has crawled its way up from the depths of the Subconscious and it’ll get absorbed. Part of Thomas’s background anxiety until he can banish back to the hellhole from whence it came.

That doesn’t always mean it’s…painless.

Some of them are fine. Some of them are like little misty bits that just putter around where they’re not fucking supposed to be and Virgil can just pluck them out of the air and stuff them into the pockets of his hoodie and wait. These ones really like to bother Patton, for some reason.

Patton’s baking today, cinnamon sugar muffins. He’s humming to himself as he bustles about the kitchen with that weird boundless energy of his that makes everyone want to think about nothing but sunshine. Ruins the hell out of Virgil’s gloomy emo image but hey, fresh muffins. Sacrifices must be made somewhere.

“Did you want to help, Virgil, or are you fine with just sitting there?”

Virgil blinks, having zoned out after the third time watching one of the containers almost fall over. “Nah, I’m good.”

Patton shrugs. “If you change your mind…”

“I won’t, Pat, I’m good. You’re doing great.”

“Aw, thanks!”

Virgil opens his mouth to say something else when he sees a little grey thing twisting in the air next to Patton’s head. He suppresses a sigh and reaches out, careful to make sure Patton’s back is turned as he snags the pesky little thing and whips it away. He stuffs his hand in his pocket as soon as Patton turns around.

“What was that?”

“What was what,” Virgil asks, blinking innocently as he squeezes the icy thing in his pocket, “what’re you talking about?”

Ah, it’s the hands-on-the-hips dad pose today. “I saw you reach for something, mister, now what did you do?”

“Don’t worry about it.” The misty little shit shrivels and disappears, leaving an ice-cold sting on his hand out of sight. “It’s fine.”

“Show me your hands.”

“What?”

“Show me your hands, Virgil.”

Virgil sighs and pulls the unstung hand out of his pocket. “See,” he says, waving it for good measure, “nothing to see here.”

Patton just raises an eyebrow. “And what about the other one?”

“C’mon, Pat—“ he sighs when both of Patton’s eyebrows go up— “fine, here.”

Patton’s eyes widen when he sees the mark on Virgil’s palm. He rushes forward instantly, cradling the injured hand and reaching for a towel. Conveniently, he gets one that was quite near where the misty thing had been floating.

“You could’ve told me you were hurt,” he says softly, tending to the sting with such tenderness that Virgil almost believes it’s something to worry about, “I would’ve helped.”

“But it’s fine, Pat,” Virgil sighs, “I could’ve dealt with it.”

“I know, I know.” Patton gives the hand one last dab with the towel before pronouncing it good enough. “But it’s never a crime to let us help you, kiddo.”

The corner of Virgil’s mouth tugs up. “Thanks, Pat.”

“Oh, of course, kiddo. Now you sit tight, the muffins won’t be another ten minutes.”

“Can’t wait.”

2.

Sometimes the Subconscious decides it’s bored of letting just the little misty bastards out and lets out the fucking ooze.

Have you ever seen Venom? Know how the symbioses move and how weird it is to look at?

Yeah, it kinda looks like that, just without the gay domesticity and mutual pining.

Nah, this ooze is mindless, just wants to—well, it doesn’t want anything, it just gets fucking everywhere. Makes it real hard to think sometimes, messes everything up.

Really likes fucking with Logan. Which first off, is not allowed. Don’t fuck with Logan. Don’t fuck with any of them, Virgil can and will kick your ass, but especially don’t fuck with Logan. Remus will tear you apart and no one will stop him. Except for Logan. Maybe. ‘Cause he’s nice like that.

Anyway, Virgil gets a weird tingle between his shoulders when there’s an oozy bitch up and about. He’s sitting on the couch, minding his own damn business, but then there’s that itch between his shoulders and he perks his head up.

Logan sits in a chair, alternating between scrolling on his laptop and making notes in one of his many notebooks. Virgil frowns, looking around, seeing if there’s any goo to keep track of, only to come up with nothing. Huh.

“Virgil?”

“Yeah?”

Logan tilts his head, concerned. “Are you alright? You look worried.”

He shakes his head, still squinting around the room. “Weird feeling, that’s it.”

“Will you let me know if it gets unbearable?” Virgil nods. “Thank you. Well, I’m going to get some more coffee, would you like any?”

“Uh, yeah, sure, L, that’d be great.”

Logan nods and stands, going to the kitchen. Leaving his laptop unattended on the coffee table.

Virgil watches as a truly massive ooze slides out from between the couch cushions and toward the laptop.

Not today you slimy bastard.

Unfortunately, he’s just a second too slow as a tendril from the ooze touches the laptop and yanks, pulling the laptop off the coffee table and sending it hurtling toward the floor. Virgil bites back a curse and lunges. His hand grabs the ooze just as his arm catches the laptop.

“Get back here, you little shit,” he grunts, opening his hand and using his power to suck the frothing fucker into his arm where it can go the fuck back to the Subconscious.

“Virgil, you—“

Shit.

Virgil looks up, a little guilty, as Logan comes back around the corner holding two coffee mugs. He looks down and raises an eyebrow.

“You…saved my laptop?”

“It was falling,” Virgil mutters, setting the precious cargo back on the coffee table, “didn’t want it to.”

“Ah. Well, thank you. I appreciate it.” Logan sets one of the coffee mugs down and reaches out a hand to help him up. “Though I assure you it is not the first time that laptop has been dropped.”

“What do you do with your stuff, Lo, I swear you make more cryptic remarks about it than J.”

“It’s all part of the experiment.”

“See, there you go again!”

3.

And then, then sometimes the Subconscious decides oh, it wants to get inventive and spawn this horrific little ooze-demons. Goat head, four legs, runs about like a creepy little horror game creature, they’re fucking awful. They don’t all look the same but they’re always running and climbing about like some gross as hellcat gremlins. Their nails are so sharp.

These fuckers really like messing with Janus. He’s got too many fun things to pull on, too many heavy clothes for them to pull and make him trip, and they like scurrying up his staff too much. They’re absolute fucking nightmares.

The good news is they’re by far the most obvious of the obnoxious little shits that manage to slip through the barriers of the Subconscious. Virgil hears a weird skittering in his ears and knows that one of the little monsters is loose again. Given how they all flock to Janus like he’s some fucking homing beacon, it’s easy to find them.

Janus is pacing back and forth, yanking angrily at the end of his clothes like they’re about to snag on something, his staff clutched in his hand. His head is down, muttering to himself as Virgil walks up.

“J?”

His head whips around. “Oh. Virgil. Certainly expected to see you here.”

“That’s me, always turning up where I’m not wanted.”

“I didn’t say that,” Janus mumbles, resuming his pacing, “though I didn’t mean to summon you. You can go.”

“You didn’t summon me, J,” Virgil says, leaning against the wall and looking around for wherever the bastards are, “I’m here of my own free will.”

“Free will,” Janus scoffs, turning around, “what the hell even is that?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Virgil spots movement.

“It’s not like there’s some master document of humans where free will is written into it.”

Slowly, Virgil raises his hand toward the spot, not tearing his eyes off it.

“And the belief that animals don’t have it! Ha, some of them exhibit characteristics of choice much more than we do.”

The little fucker snaps at his fingers as he makes a grab for it. He snags it by the scruff of the beck and yanks.

“And what is this about it being provable? Show me one scientific theory that has space in it for free will. Do it, I dare you.”

Virgil bites back a curse as he wrests the pesky shit around the middle, ignoring the way it chomps and snarls at him.

“Just because you have or don’t have free will doesn’t make you exempt from the constraints of society. Even if you aren’t making your own choices that doesn’t mean you’re the exception to the consequences.”

The teeth that sink into the sleeve of his hoodie are the last to vanish as Virgil breathes out, watching the last of it fade as Janus turns around.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, tugging his hat and gloves, “haven’t been…”

“S’okay, J,” Virgil waves with the hoodie sleeve that isn’t ripped, “you’re good. Come on, let’s go eat something.”

“…pasta?”

“Sure thing, danger noodle.”

“Ugh, I take it back.”

“Whatever you say, hazard macaroni.”

“I’m taller than you!”

4.

It makes sense that the Subconscious decides to send the most insidious shit after the twins. They’re the reason the pieces of shit monsters can’t make it up to the rest of them. And for the most part, they know what to look for. They don’t have the same awareness of all the little idiosyncrasies that Virgil does, but they beat back a fair number of them on their own.

Which is why the ones they can’t are tricky.

Remus is Dark Creativity, he lives in the muck with the monsters. Thrives in it. Loves the way the gross and the unwanted and the sickening twist and turn about his realm, thrills in the horrified swoop in his stomach when something truly gruesome rears its ugly fuckin’ head.

What he can’t deal with is the fog.

The first time Virgil saw it, he honestly thought it was smoke. He thought Remus had set something on fire and panicked, reaching through to try and find the blaze, find Remus, find a goddamn fire extinguisher, but it was cold.

Like…really cold.

You know how when the air is really humid it feels like it has a weight to it? Like it hangs over you like a wet rag that you just can’t shake off?

Imagine that but cold.

Virgil shivers and reaches forward, trying to find Remus. He’s still never gotten used to it, even though he’s seen it so many times now. Remus doesn’t make it out of his room when the fog comes. He blames it on creative block but Janus always hisses gently when he says that.

“Remus? Remus,” Virgil calls using his tempest tongue, “where are you, buddy?”

He can’t see Remus yet, but the call did its work. The fog ripples in front of him, almost shying away from the sound waves as he moves. He keeps calling, keeps watching the fog almost flinch as it recedes from him. His voice grows louder, louder. The fog begins to retreat in earnest.

Finally, he sees Remus, curled up on his bed, staring at the wall. Virgil muffles a curse as he strides forward, crooning as softly as he can in tempest tongue while glaring furiously at the fog as it sheepishly retreats. As the last of it fizzles, Remus’s head comes to flop on Virgil’s shoulder.

“Hey, spider-ling,” he mumbles, “when’d you show up?”

“A few minutes ago.” Virgil brushes Remus’s hair off his forehead. “You looked upset, bud, wanted to come check on you.”

“Fucking fine,” comes the slur, signifying that Remus is anything but, “I’m fucking fine, babe.”

“You’re exhausted and cold.” Virgil scoops him up into his arms. “Come on. Let’s go find J. He’ll spoil you.”

Sure enough, as soon as Janus sees Remus lying in Virgil’s arms, he jumps up with a coo and takes the other side from him, lying him down on something warm and promising to get him something warm to drink. No, Remus, not engine fuel. Something safer, at least for right now.

Virgil stands at the door, waiting.

There’s an itch between his shoulders and another chill down his spine.

A cloud of fog emerges from down the hallway. From it, three shadow gremlins canter toward him.

He grits his teeth and braces.

The first one collides with his shoulder and he grabs it, squeezing until the shadow folds in on itself. The second hits his shin and he punts it into a wall, scooping the remnants and absorbing them. The third one vanishes in a quick shout of tempest tongue.

You’re not gonna get them, he thinks as he shouts the fog away, not on my goddamn watch.

5.

The worst part of the Subconscious is the shadows.

Because they all have shadows. They all do. That’s just the nature of being an opaque thing and existing in proximity near light sources. Shadows are a natural by-product of blocking light, that’s it.

Wow, he’s been spending more time with Logan than he thought. Sweet.

But the Subconscious shadows are different. There’s no such thing as dark. Only an absence of light. There is no substance known as ‘dark,’ sure there’s dark energy or dark matter if you go the physics route, but there isn’t a thing ‘dark’ the way there’s a thing ‘light.’

If you looked at the Subconscious shadows, you’d believe otherwise.

They look normal. They look just like normal shadows. Something resting against the wall casts a shadow. Something moving in front of a window casts a shadow. Something sitting on the edge of the desk casts a shadow.

But these shadows move.

You have to pay such close attention to even catch them. You have to know precisely what on your desk is casting what part of the shadow when—hold on, what is that? Is it the water bottle? No, you pick up the water bottle and the cylinder two spaces across move. So you pick up the lamp and no, that’s not it either. You move your hand—your hand’s shadow is easy to track—and you move it to where it should be overlapping with whatever’s casting that shadow. You look closer. But there’s nothing blocking the light where your hand is, nothing between the light and the wall.

You stare at the shadow.

And then it moves.

See? They’re fucking terrifying. Like some Peter Pan gone wrong shit. Creepy, sinister, innocuous-looking, you’ve got to be constantly on guard to catch them. You have to be smart. These ones, out of all the Subconscious monsters, feel the most spiteful. Like they’re doing this on purpose, to terrorize the Mindscape.

That’s probably why they go for Roman.

Roman holds the barriers the most. Remus pushes them to reinforce them, but Roman draws the lines in the sand. Roman is responsible for keeping Thomas safe from the barriers breaking, is largely responsible for Thomas being able to see the Sides at all.

So of course the Subconscious hates him.

Roman is the only one who will summon Virgil when he thinks there’s something wrong. Sure, it’s never been quite as simple as Virgil showing up and Roman telling him he’s scared, he thinks something just moved. They used to just throw barbs at each other until Roman was distracted enough for Virgil to suck up the shadow, or fight until Virgil pointed out where it was and Roman said it was just a test, but they’re better now.

Virgil appears in Roman’s room and immediately looks around. Roman sits on the bed, his hands folded primly over the sword in his lap, polishing the pommel with forced calm.

“There are at least three,” he says, his voice perfectly even, “I can’t keep track of them anymore.”

“It’s okay, Princey,” Virgil says softly, turning and turning to try and catch them, “I’m here now. You did a good thing calling me. Are you alright?”

“I’m here,” Roman says, forcing a little false cheer into it, “not the biggest fan of what’s happening, but I’m here.”

Virgil smiles at him briefly before he sees the flicker.

There.

“Roman,” he says calmly, “I need you to go stand by the window.”

Roman gets up and walks to the window, sitting under the sill and closing his eyes. Virgil grits his teeth and makes his shadow overlap with the one on the wall.

It burns as he starts to absorb it, writhing in protest and screeching silently for the others to come help. Sweat begins to bead on Virgil’s forehead as two move shadows race to enlarge his silhouette. Goddamn, they’re vicious tonight. What the hell would they have done to Roman if he hadn’t called?

Not on my goddamn watch.

He’s panting by the time they’re gone, but he’s alright. He’s good. They’re gone. Roman is safe. He turns and opens his arms, letting Roman come and bury his face in the crook of his neck.

“Thank you,” Roman murmurs quietly, “sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, Princey, this is my job.” He claps Roman on the shoulder. “You did good too.”

Roman huffs. “I sat in the corner. That’s not much.”

“And you did great. Now come on, Pat’s making cookies.”

“Oh, right, is it Remus’s night to help?”

“Yeah.”

“Hmmm…maybe we should swing by and warn Logan first.”

“Good idea.”

+1.

Nothing’s happened in a while and Virgil is getting worried.

Normally the longest they go without an incident is a month, maybe, and then it’s normally back-to-back nonsense for like a week.

But it’s been three months. And nothing. No misty tendrils, no puddles of ooze, no snapping gremlins, no fog, no shadows. Virgil’s just about on the verge of running a round-the-clock patrol of the damn place just to make sure he doesn’t miss anything.

As it turns out, he needn’t have bothered.

Stupid, stupid. Idiot.

He fucking missed it. He fucking missed it.

All the other Sides had monsters that went after them specifically. Why should Virgil get left out?

The Subconscious hadn’t been stopping, or slowing down, no. It had been biding its fucking time.

And now…

Virgil scrambles backward, trying to keep himself between the door to the Imagination and the figure in front of him. They slash at him again and he dodges just in the nick of time. He winces, claps a hand to his chest, and literally feels his heart skip a beat as his hand passes right through.

He’s being absorbed.

The figure raises a dripping, shadowy arm and brings the weapon down again. Virgil can’t stop dodging long enough to get a good look at it. He only knows that it fucking hurts and that it’s draining him. Draining him back into the Subconscious.

If he can just keep it here, if he can just hold off long enough to figure out what to do—

Another slash comes down on his arm and he yells, tempest tongue dying in his throat. That one fucking hurt.

He throws a handful of dirt up just to see if maybe it will blind them or give them a moment’s pause but no. The dirt just sinks into it like some fucking nightmare vacuum. The next strike collides.

“Virgil? Virgil?”

“What the fuck is that thing?”

“It’s draining him, move!”

“Hang on, Virgil, we’re coming!”

“Don’t you fucking dare hit him again!”

The figure turns, only to jump out of the way when Remus’s Morningstar smashes into the ground where they had been standing. Remus growls, ripping it out of the soil and swinging again. The figure parries the blow only to let out an inhuman wail as Roman’s sword slices its arm.

“Get the fuck away from him,” Remus snarls.

“Back!” Roman swings again, driving them away from Virgil. “Back, foul beast!”

“Don’t insult them by comparing the beasts to whatever the fuck this is.”

Logan rushes up before Virgil can open his mouth to ask what the fuck is going on, dropping to his knees and pressing something warm to Virgil’s chest.

“Virge? Virge, stay with me,” he calls softly, “come on, it’s alright, we’re here now.”

“How—“ Virgil gasps as his chest starts to…resolidify? “How did you—what? How?”

“Oh, Virgil,” Logan murmurs, rubbing whatever the miracle thing on his chest is in small circles, “did you really think we never noticed that you were trying to fight them by yourself?”

Oh.

Oh, fuck.

“Shh,” he soothes, helping Virgil up into a seated position, “it’s okay. We’re not mad. Just worried. You’re hurt.”

“Fuck!”

“Just stab them, Ro.”

“I’m trying!”

Despite himself, Virgil huffs a laugh as he leans against Logan. “Are they—we should help.”

“You,” Logan says sternly, “will sit here and let me finish making sure you won’t be drained. The twins can handle themselves.”

Still, Virgil’s heart stays in his throat until he spies something else running up the hill. A shadow beast, a massive one.

“Logan, look out—”

Logan turns and—

Who the fuck gave Logan a gun?

The shadow beast has flopped over onto its side and dissipated, Logan already back to tending to Virgil’s wound but the time Virgil’s dizzy, half-drained brain figures out what just happened.

“You…you shot it.”

Logan quirks an eyebrow. “You sound surprised.”

“Remus!”

“Get back!”

“What the hell is it doing?”

“It’s growing, shit, Ro, we gotta fall back.”

“Guard Logan, check on Virgil, I’m right behind you!”

The twins rush up and form a guard around Logan and Virgil as the shadow figure swells. Virgil’s eyes widen as it growls, growing larger and larger and larger still until the shadows look strapped at the seams, fit to burst. It grows claws. It grows teeth. It grows more limbs than he can count.

It leers down at them and opens a gaping, black maw.

“Now!”

Roman crouches down to shield him as dirt flies up around them. Logan bends in too as something equally massive soars overhead. Virgil manages to peek between Roman and Remus to see a blur of green tackle the monster.

“Is that…is that Patton?”

“I believe it’s ‘Lily Pad-ton,’” Logan corrects wryly as the twins snicker, “but…yes.”

Judging by the roar of the monster, he’s doing something.

“Where’s Janus,” he hears Roman hiss, “he should’ve been here by now.”

“There!”

Remus points and Virgil spots a fucking enormous yellow snake unhinging its jaw. The monster howls as it starts to vanish down the snake’s gullet.

“Holy fuck.”

“I think Janny’s hungry.”

“Pissed off, more like.” Roman lays a hand protectively on Virgil’s shoulder, squeezing encouragingly as Virgil gasps at the contact. “Whatever that thing is hurt Virgil.”

Remus growls in assent.

The thing in Virgil’s chest starts to burn hotter. Logan shushes him gently as he whines in pain.

“It’s alright, Virgil, you’re almost done. We’re right here, just breathe.”

“You’re safe, sweetheart,” Roman murmurs as he starts to list side to side, “we’ve got you.”

“Nothing’s gonna fucking touch you,” he hears Remus snarl as he passes out, “promise.”

He comes to an indeterminate amount of time later, laid out on the couch, his head in Patton’s lap. He blinks.

“Hey, kiddo,” Patton murmurs, stroking his hair, “you feel any better?”

“Um, yeah,” he mumbles, turning a little and wincing at the pull in his chest, “what…what happened?”

“We won.” Roman pats his arm. “All safe now. You did great.”

“All I did was lie there.”

“Yeah, and you did great.” He winks.

Virgil’s gaze rolls around to catch Logan setting down a glass of water and crouching by his head.

“L?”

“You’re all better physically,” Logan says softly, “but it might take some time for you to feel like it. Just take it easy for a while.”

“And that means,” comes Remus’s voice from over the couch, “you gotta let us help defend you too.”

Virgil flushes. “But it’s not your job.”

“Are you insinuating that our job is not to take care of you?” Roman holds his hand to his chest in a mock gasp. “Because that is rude.”

Patton gives his hair a gentle tug. “We’re gonna look after you, kiddo, you deserve it.”

“I—um…” Virgil swallows heavily. “But if I dealt with it properly you wouldn’t have to.”

A soft hiss comes from the chair. Virgil looks and sees Janus sitting there, one leg crossed over the other. He smiles softly.

“You can let us help you, sweetie,” he murmurs, “rest for a little. Don’t try and take on the Subconscious by yourself.”

“…okay.” He squints. “Wait, why are you all the way over there?”

“Digesting,” Janus says, completely dignified.

Virgil snorts. “I’m just sad I missed it.”

“Oh, it was fucking epic.”

“Language, kiddo.”

“Oh, come on, you were great—“

Logan chuckles next to his head as Virgil drifts back off to sleep with a smile on his face.

…he is gonna ask who gave Logan a gun after he wakes up properly.

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#dragonbabbles #fic #sanders sides #lamp #dlamp #dlampr #virgil sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #janus sanders #deceit sanders #sympathetic deceit #remus sanders #sympathetic remus

[archies-litterbox]

Home

Summary: Some times when Douxie called the castle his home, and one time Merlin realized his son saw the castle as his home whether he was ready to process that or not (and he wasn’t).

Words: 2000

A/N: I got this done! I actually challenged myself by making sure each little segment of the fic was EXACTLY 500 words, and I had a lot of fun! hope you like it <3

[CW: Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, Nightmares (there’s way more softness in this than the CW makes it look I swear-)]

--

The typical chatter of the marketplace was overshadowed by Hisirdoux’s skipping steps, and those were overshadowed by the moppet humming a little tune to himself that Merlin couldn’t make sense of. It was one of many things about the little apprentice that didn’t exactly make sense, but when Merlin brought the boy along to finish an errand, what he truly dreaded was that the boy would be insufferable and get distracted at every turn. So, really, endearing -

- “Endearing to who?” Merlin asked in response to his own internal monologue, because the humming from the boy, a sure sign that his apprentice was content at the very least, was most certainly not endearing to him -

- So, really, definitely-not-endearing humming of silly, nonsensical tunes was a more-than-adequate alternative to that insufferability and distraction, Merlin was sure.

“Getting that potion ingredient was easier than I thought!” Hisirdoux said happily, the spring in his step ever-present, “The merchant wasn’t even cross with me, like usual - like when I come here by myself.”

“Have you considered,” Merlin started, “That she’d been cross because of your notorious slight-of-hand? And your pickpocketing and street tricks has rendered her wary of your possible antics?”

Hisirdoux shrugged, rubbed the back of his head in obvious sheepishness, and turned his gaze elsewhere, “Mayyyybe-”

His face lit up in excitement, his eyes widening as his mouth formed an “O” shape when he saw something off to the street’s side.

“Ooooh! Look!” He turned a little to the side, bringing his hands up as he started to wander to a stand selling some sweet treats, “They’re selling-”

Merlin put a hand on his shoulder to still the boy, who was already a handful without the added hyperactivity of sugar.

“Nothing of importance, Hisirdoux.”

He turned the boy forward again, put his hand on top of Hisirdoux’s head, and turned it forward again as well.

“Awwwh.” Hisirdoux whined.

“We have what we came down here for, and Wizards are many things, but they are not frivolous.” he said as he kept walking, a slightly-pouting moppet walking alongside him, “We’re heading straight back to the castle. There are better pastry bakers there, anyway.”

Hisirdoux’s disappointed pout left his face.

“Right, right.” he said, as if he were reminded of how happy he was just to be out here, on what he probably thought of as a beautiful day, although Merlin was rather impartial to the sunny weather.

 “Let’s go home, Master!”

...Home?

Did he mean the castle?

Though he kept moving physically, putting one armor-plated foot in front of the other, Merlin’s mind froze as he looked down at the joyful, beaming moppet. To hear Hisirdoux refer to the castle as his home… 

Well, Merlin knew he should have expected it at this point, considering the boy’s utter lack of a permanent roof over his head before, but he still didn’t know what to make of it, if there was anything to make of it.

So, he sighed.

“The castle isn’t that far away.”

--

The dark circles under the boy’s eyes looked darker in hue than usual today, but of course, that was only due to the contrast against the unusual paleness of his face. Said eyes looked up at Merlin with a rather lacking amount of cognizance as the Master Wizard stood over the moppet. Stripped of his bulky leather hooded vest in favor of keeping on only his trousers and tunic, so he didn’t overheat, Hisirdoux’s deep breaths through his mouth were only interrupted by a brief, pitiful sniffle of his nose.

“Mathter, ‘th thith… plague?” He was hoarse from coughing and nasally from his awful congestion. To this, Merlin only huffed - of course, leave it to his ever-dramatic apprentice to leap to the most dire conclusion possible, even though he couldn’t even rightly walk down to the throne room in this state.

“Not unless a rather nasty cold has become the new plague of Camelot.” he answered, “you should have come back sooner from your last errand, Hisirdoux, before it started to pour.”

Hisirdoux groaned, either out of his achy, miserable condition, or frustration with hearing the old man lecture him, or both.

“I know, I know-”

A wet cough cut him off, making him curl up before he flopped back down on the bed.

“Ugh, ithn’t there thome…” he swallowed, as if to clear his throat of sickly gunk as best he could without another hacking, “I dunno, “thickness begone-iuth” thpell, or thomething?”

“I won’t use magic to alleviate your sickness, if that’s what you’re implying.” Merlin denied, “Although unpleasant, your condition is far from serious, and your symptoms should alleviate in a few days, at the most. If I use magic on something so mere, your natural immune system will weaken, and a dependence on magic to maintain your health is dangerous, so-”

“But Mathter-”

“Don’t “But Mathter” me.”

Hisirdoux sighed, a shaky, ugly-sounding thing, too exhausted to even spare a laugh at how Merlin imitated him.

“Magic ithn’t a permithible shortcut…” he started, but he trailed off and punctuated the statement with another little sniffle.

It seemed, remarkably, Hisirdoux remembered a few of Merlin’s teachings, despite his low-grade fever.

Which reminded him…

The Master Wizard sighed and conjured a cold, damp rag, enchanted to not dry out or get tepid. Making sure it was properly folded, he laid it right onto Hisirdoux’s forehead.

“Oh, ‘th nithe…” he mumbled, “thank you…”

“Your plans for today are postponed, of course.” Merlin declared, “You’re to stay here and rest.”

“But-” Hisirdoux’s eyebrows furrowed, “I wath thupposed to go out and do that… that thing… and get the thing… from the plathe…”

Of course, it must have been harder for the boy to think sensibly and make sense than usual.

“And that will wait until your condition improves.” Merlin finalized, “Am I clear?”

Hisirdoux, resigned, nodded.

“Yeth, Mathter… thtaying home it ith, then.”

Before Merlin had anywhere near enough time to be surprised at that word, “home”, Hisirdoux fell right to sleep.

--

Merlin couldn’t remember a time when he’d felt like this before; when he couldn’t tell if he was more terrified or furious.

But he couldn’t be bothered to try to figure that out - not when, after hours of Hisirdoux being late coming back to the castle, a shoddily-written ransom note made its way to the desk of the Master Wizard’s study.

Thankfully, Hisirdoux’s familiar could trace it by it’s unpleasant scent. Merlin followed Archibald as the cat-dragon followed the scent trail to some disgusting hovel in a forest clearing, with some deplorable men hanging around it’s outside.

When Merlin laid eyes on them... he leveled them with any spells he could remember through his rage at them all; at their audacity.

Of course, it had been some incompetent group of bandits, but only a fool equated incompetency with harmlessness; just because these idiots didn’t know what they were doing didn’t mean that Hisirdoux was safe.

So, he shifted his focus on finding his apprentice, even if he had to reduce every board of this blasted cabin to splinters.

But it didn’t come to that; the second Merlin stepped in, he saw him.

Hisirdoux was curled up in a corner, sitting on his heels with his hands bound behind him, his arms bound steadfast to his torso, and a piece of cloth tied between his teeth. He was unharmed, but terrified.

Hisirdoux’s muffled cry that came out when he saw Merlin shattered the old man’s heart.

He never ran faster in his life.

A small, very precise blast from Archie made the bonds around Hisirdoux’s wrists and torso come loose, and when Merlin got to him, he pulled the cloth gag out as fast as he could without hurting him, letting it lay around his neck.

The instant his arms were fully free and Merlin was close enough, Hisirdoux hugged him, clinging to the Wizard for dear life and crying his heart out against his armored shoulder.

“Are you hurt? Did they do anything to you?”

Merlin felt Hisirdoux shake his head. He could tell he was swallowing to try to get some moisture back in his mouth. It had probably been dried out by that blasted gag, and who knew if they’d given him any water?

“No, just-” he gasped, “Scared.”

Those bandits would soon forget the very meaning of mercy.

For now, Merlin focused on rubbing soothing circles against the boy’s back, seeing that his ankles were bound. Merlin didn’t even notice before, and Hisirdoux was so hasty - so desperate for comfort that he didn’t even wait. He didn’t even seem to care.

Archie started cutting them loose.

“I-” Hisirdoux hiccuped, “I wanna go home.”

The shattered remnants of Merlin’s heart melted.

Home.

His son wanted to go home.

He sighed, moving one of his hands to cradle the back of the poor boy’s head, passing his fingers through his un-bunned hair.

“Please,” he whined, “take me home.”

Merlin nodded, the side of his head rubbing Hisirdoux’s.

“Right… right.”

--

It was long past nightfall, and the castle was quiet, so Merlin tried to tread the corridors lightly so his armored feet wouldn’t clank against the floor and wake anyone; the last thing he wanted was for any particular moppetish apprentices to stir.

That boy… he had already gone through so much he hadn’t deserved, and for what? To what end? Merlin presumed that before he’d found him in that alley, he’d been treated poorly for being not only a street rat, but a magical one at that. And now, even though he was the Wizard’s apprentice, that treatment hadn’t truly gone away; no, it only shifted onto new grounds: the grounds that... he was the Wizard’s apprentice. Now, much of the animosity sent his way was truly meant for Merlin; directing it at Hisirdoux merely amplified it. Strengthened the blow.

And that blow was strengthened today.

Merlin remembered the note’s creases under his fingertips as it trembled in his shaking hand; the door creaking open with a shriek in its hinges and showing Merlin his apprentice, bound and gagged and terrified in the corner of that hovel; Hisirdoux wailing against his shoulder; the trembling of his son in his arms. He remembered it all.

“Hisirdoux…”

He passed the sleeping boy’s door… and sensed magic from behind it. Unusual magic for this hour. In the little gap between the door and the floor, he could see the blue glow of his magic, too. Unmistakeable.

“...Hisirdoux?”’

He stopped at the door and pushed it open, only to be met with a fretful sight before him (not nearly as bad as the last time he’d pushed a door open to find Hisirdoux today, but it was rather close.)

The boy was thrashing in his sleep - tossing and turning in his blankets to the point where they’d started to tangle around him, which only made his obviously-nightmare-induced thrashing worse. Magic thrummed from his hands as he fought back against… something, and even Archibald, who had curled up on his abdomen to soothe him to sleep earlier tonight, couldn’t quell his night terror.

Merlin knelt down at the boy’s bedside and put a hand on his shoulder, shaking him lightly, “Hisirdoux!”

“N-no! Stop!” he pleaded, thrashing harder to get the hand off him, “Get away! Leave me ALONE! Let me GO!”

Merlin shook him harder.

“HISIRDOUX!” he shouted.

Finally, the boy’s eyes snapped open, and he gasped.

For a moment, he just breathed as lucidity seeped back into him. After realizing he was in the realm of the conscious, he put his hands to the sides of his head.

“Master…” he squeaked, “Where-”

“It’s alright, Hisirdoux. You’re safe.” he assured, “You’re home.”

Honestly, the words just slipped out, for Merlin, shocked by himself, doubted that he would have ever said them otherwise.

And with now-even-wider eyes, Hisirdoux looked just as shocked.

… Well, no good rescinding it now. How could he, really?

“You’re home.”

Hisirdoux nodded, a shaky smile on his face.

“...Home.”

#fic: home #my writing #mine #douxie #hisirdoux casperan #merlin #merlin ambrosius #wizard dad #tales of arcadia #toa #wizards #toa wizards #moppet!douxie #hurt/comfort

[minor-solemnity]

Hi, you’re writing is so beautiful, thank you for sharing it :)

Can I request a Tom x Reader where they take a mini vacation somewhere really secluded and they’re so happy to be finally spending time with eachother and they’re both just being super domestic and sweet.

Thank you! 🤍

Thank you my love! This prompt is giving me life istg, sweet and domestic Tom is my jam <3 I hope you like it (also am I basically writing what my dream holiday is? it's definitely possible)

Tag List : @mainlynonsense @cakesarecute @jinxqsu​  @naps-and-lemons​  @riddles-wifey​ (send me a message if you'd want to be added to the tag list!)

We are Mosaics

Tom turns to look at you and you recognise the determined glint in his eye and the set line of his lips which lets you know that a plan is forming and he won’t be dissuaded easily. “The Malfoy’s have a cottage in the Dolomites. I’ll talk to Abraxas.” He says it with such finality that you’re almost surprised before you remember that this is Tom. Tom who’s had his Slytherin cohort eating out of the palm of his hand for years, Tom who had marriage offers from a few of the lesser-known pureblood families, Tom who puts the fear of God into the hearts of most men. Of course, Abraxas would give him his family cottage.

You’re sitting on your sofa in the small flat you’ve rented above Flourish and Blotts glaring at the letter that sits innocently on the coffee table in front of you when Tom apparates through your wards. Your mood, which has been growing increasingly dark with the setting sun lifts somewhat when you see him. His jacket folded neatly over his arm and his white shirt slightly rumpled from the day, his hair, which he styles with care every morning is falling in soft waves across his forehead. In short, he looks like every one of your daydreams and you’re filled with a contented sort of triumph that it’s you who he comes home to most evenings. Your flat is small and certainly not big enough for you both to live comfortably, but he spends more time here than he does at his own, equally poky, abode.

His gaze flickers over the letter on the coffee table and you can see him putting the pieces together. “Bad news, I take it?” He asks in a slightly cautious tone that tells you he’s waiting for your imminent breakdown. You nod and sigh as you push yourself up from where you’ve been sulking for most of the afternoon. You gravitate towards him like a moth to a flame, the same way you always do, the same way you always have, and nestle yourself against him, allowing yourself to feel comforted and protected by the feeling of his arms around you.

“I just don’t understand why no one will give me a chance. I had the best marks in Arithmancy in the year,” You grumble into his chest. “Did you hear that Pearson got that Potions Mastery? He got an A in his NEWTS, Tom. Why does he get to do a Mastery and all I get is rejection letters?” You sigh because you know the answer. It’s the same reason that Tom wasn’t offered any of the prodigious jobs at the Ministry despite being the most talented wizard you’ve ever met with a resume that proves it. Wizarding society might be more progressive than the muggle world in some ways, but in the ways that matter to you and Tom, it was still stuck in the Middle Ages.

Eventually, you disentangle yourself from him and you spend the rest of the evening curled up on the sofa with him, reading and chatting idly about the stranger aspects of your respective magical theory texts. “Did you know about the coven in the Dolomites from the 1450s?” He asks, eyes trained on the page in front of him.

“Mmm, they’re the first known herders of thestrals, weren’t they?” He nods and you smile softly, “I’ve always wanted to visit there, you know? Ever since we learnt about thestrals in fourth year.”

You don’t think anything of it but Tom turns to look at you and you recognise the determined glint in his eye and the set line of his lips which lets you know that a plan is forming and he won’t be dissuaded easily. “The Malfoy’s have a cottage in the Dolomites. I’ll talk to Abraxas.” He says it with such finality that you’re almost surprised before you remember that this is Tom. Tom who’s had his Slytherin cohort eating out of the palm of his hand for years, Tom who had marriage offers from a few of the lesser-known pureblood families, Tom who puts the fear of God into the hearts of most men. Of course, Abraxas would give him his family cottage.

“The perks of having rich friends, I suppose,” You say with a small laugh and the smile he gives you in return is indulgent.

***

When Tom had first told you about Abraxas’ family cottage, you had imagined that your definition of a cottage and the Malfoy’s would be vastly different. You’d gone with Tom to one of the Malfoy Christmas parties once and had almost cried at the luxury and decadence. You’re pleasantly surprised though to find that the cottage is exactly as you’d hoped it would be: sturdy white stone, lattice windows, and a multitude of wild mountain flowers that make the place look like a fae dwelling. “This is gorgeous,” You murmur as you wander through the garden, letting the warm summer mountain air fill your lungs. “I never would have thought that the Malfoy’s would own somewhere quite so homely.” Behind you, Tom laughs softly.

“I think there’s a distant cousin who fancied herself a Marie Antoinette figure,” He says, stepping closer to you and resting his chin on the top of your head. “Are you happy?” He asks and you hum in response, bringing your arms up behind you to card through his hair. You twist around pull him closer and his hands drop to your waist as he kisses you.

You spend most of the rest of the day exploring the paths and trails close to the cottage whilst Tom sets up the wards. The worries and stresses of London seem so far away and you relish in the slight breeze against your bare arms and the feeling of long grass and wildflowers against your legs.

You think back to your childhood, to the holidays spent in English seaside resorts with your parents; when the war broke out, the holidays stopped. Your father disappeared into a trench somewhere and your mother had taken you back to her parents home and left the muggle world for good but she was never quite the same after. Hogwarts and the wizarding world, in general, offered you an escape. A home away from the sorrow of watching your family drift and sink into unspoken grief and sadness. You’d found Tom somewhere along the way, both of you finding some kind of solace and familiarity in each other. A tentative friendship had formed that had turned to a tentative romance.

You wonder sometimes, why he sticks around. Unlike the boys he surrounded himself at school with, you can’t offer him money or power or glory. You’ve had to fight for every opportunity given to you, just the same as him, and it’s still not enough. In your more anxious moments, you think about his future and your uncertainty over where you fit into it. Now, under the clear Italian skies, you think that maybe the answer is obvious: you fit together like pieces of a mosaic. Each of your broken and jagged edges finding a home next to his.

***

“You’re aware that you’re a witch, aren’t you?” Tom’s voice floats through the open doorway and you chuckle from where you’re standing on one of the kitchen workbenches. You glance over your shoulder and find him watching you with a mix of exasperation, confusion, and mild amusement. He walks over to you and stares at the pile of dough you’re kneading, his eyebrows knitting together. “I’ll get Abraxas to send one of his house-elves.”

You roll your eyes and shake your head fondly. Tom’s disdain for all things muggle has diminished since you’ve known him, or at least, he’s less likely to voice his opinions to you. “That’s not the point, making bread is meditative. Come on, here,” You gesture for him to take over and watch with poorly hidden amusement as he frowns and takes a step back. “You once made Peeves cry out of fear, Tom, you can’t honestly be intimidated by some flour and water.” You raise an eyebrow and try to smother your grin with an unimpressed expression. You’ve found that the easiest way of getting Tom to do anything is to suggest that he can’t.

As expected, he glowers and rolls his sleeves up. “I’m not intimidated, darling, I just don’t see the point in slaving away over something that could easily be accomplished with magic,” He says smoothly even as he approaches the dough and gingerly pokes it. This time, you don’t manage to hide your laughter and you cover his hands with yours and begin to guide him through the motions. A companionable silence falls upon the two of you and you relish the feeling of his chest against your back, his soft breathing in your ear, his hands moving under yours. Sunshine filters through the open window and you listen to the distant birdsong in quiet contentment.

Once the bread has baked, the two of you wander along the mountain trail that leads to a secluded lake. The water is crystal clear and the kind of icy blue that you’ve only seen in paintings. Tom leads you to a small jetty and conjures a pile of blankets and pillows that you quickly set about making a nest out of. You sit cross-legged, Tom’s head resting in your lap as he reads passages from the book he’s brought with him out loud to you. “According to legend, the Monti Pallidi used to be formed of dark looming rock face and the lakes were murky and black, but there was a princess from the moon who took refuge in the Dolomites and to ease her homesickness, the mountains remade themselves with pale stone and clear waters.”

“She must have been lonely, being so far away from home,” You murmur, carding a hand through his hair as you tilt your head to stare at the pale mountains that surround you. “You know, I sometimes think of you a bit like that, like you’re a moon and I’m a satellite in your orbit.” He hums softly, and you’re not sure if it's in agreement or contemplation. You shift slightly and reach for the food that you’ve packed: fresh fruit, cured meats, hard Italian cheese, a bottle of wine that you’d found in the cellars (no doubt worth more than Tom makes in a year), and of course, the bread you’d made earlier.

You tear off a couple of chunks of bread and pass one to Tom, who takes it and sniffs it delicately before he takes a small bit. You breathe a huff of laughter at his behaviour and he lazily reaches up to cuff the side of your head. “See, it’s good, isn’t it? This kind of thing is always better when you make it yourself,” He rolls his eyes but tears off another chunk, which you take to mean he is, in fact, enjoying it.

The afternoon fades into evening, and twilight descends upon the mountains. You rearrange yourselves so that your sat side by side, gazing up at the moon that is just becoming visible. “You know, I would do more than remake a mountain range if you asked.” Warmth settles deep in your bones despite the chill in the night air. Tom turns to watch you and you don’t bother hiding your smile. “I would remake the entire world for you.” You don’t doubt him either, Tom is a force of nature, always has been. He’s a visionary and you’re not always sure if that’s a good thing, but, years ago, he saw something in you and now he looks at you as though you are everything that he wants in the world.

You reach over and hold his hand, letting his touch ground you, “For now, this is enough.” You mean this moment, sitting here with him. You also mean the life you are slowly patching together, one mosaic tile at a time.

#tom riddle #tom marvolo riddle #tom riddle x you #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle x oc #tom riddle x reader #minific #tom riddle imagines #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle fanfic #tom riddle fic #harry potter fanfiction #tom riddle fanfiction #prompt fill #prompt #asks #requests #request

[ginemrys]

Catapults and Caught Feelings

For @jilychallenge August 2021

Theme: Summer.

Prompt: “we have to crush the team of our unbeaten rivals in this waterfight (even if the other side has a rlly cute red head) oh god fOCUS”

@ginemrys vs @jilyism

big thanks to @figg-anon for betaing for me!! <3

Thus far, the end of year trip had been the best one yet. All of the year elevens, minus a few whose parents hadn’t given permission, were bundled onto a coach and driven for a few hours to Dartmoor to spend three nights camping and three days doing water sports and going on interesting walks.

James Potter and his friends had gotten everything that they could out of the trip. The four boys went camping with James’ parents every summer, so were enjoying having a bit more free time just the four of them. Their teachers were great, they kept an eye on their students, but trusted them all enough to do their own thing, since most of them had already turned sixteen. So the self-named Marauders spent most of their days running through the woods, climbing trees, and having a whale of a time.

Of course, the entire group did have to convene for certain activities, like a den building competition or a swim in the river. On the last day, the final full day of being at the campsite, the teachers instructed everyone to get into their swimming costumes and simple clothes because they were going to have a water fight.

Naturally, everyone cheered, the different groups racing back to their tents to change. Sirius was nattering away in James’ ear as the boys pulled on their swimming trunks and t-shirts, chatting excitedly about how amazing this was about to be. A teacher-approved water fight? What could be better?

“I hope we’re all in the same team, it would be awful to be separated.” Peter was saying to Remus as he stuck his arms into a long sleeved top.

“I think it will be done by forms to be honest, Pete. So we should be alright.” Remus smiled, patting Peter’s back gently. They met in the same form and shared many classes, which was how they had originally become friends at secondary school. And here they were five years later, still just as good friends as always.

“If we are split up though, just know I’m going to absolutely destroy you all,” James said confidently, adjusting his glasses.

“You wish, Prongs!” Sirius laughed, shaking his head. “We all know I have the best aim here.”

All three of the others stared at him for a second before bursting out laughing, knowing fully well that James was the sportsman amongst them. He was captain of the football team after all and had been playing for years.

“Oh shut your mouths, the lot of you,” Sirius rolled his eyes, unzipping the tent, “let’s go.”

As Remus had predicted, the year was split up into groups based on which form they were in, all of the kids separated down the middle into two mostly even groups. The Marauders were happily together in a group.

But then the most incredible part of the water fight was revealed.

“Alright everyone, before we start-” Mr Flitwick piped up, holding a megaphone to his mouth to be heard over the chattering, “-we have to be careful with these catapults, only the water balloons are allowed to be thrown. Got it?”

“Yes, sir!” they chanted in unison, though the Marauders all shared a look.

“No, boys! I saw that!” Flitwick shouted, pointing at the four boys. “I mean it! You will receive detentions, I don’t care if you’ve only got a few weeks left and you’ve finished your exams. Water balloons only!”

“Fine.” James and Sirius both looked put out while Remus and Peter held their thumbs up to their teacher in response.

A small scoff sounded from the other group, James’ eyes meeting a pair of green ones. Of course he was against Lily Evans rather than being with her, he was sure she wouldn’t hold back at the chance to pelt him with water balloons. They’d gotten along much better over the course of year eleven, ever since James had needed to help her with Physics. He’d almost say they were friends, even if he still pissed her off a bit. But none of that stopped his overwhelming crush on Lily. Ever since year nine when he started to notice girls, he’d been besotted with her. Sirius called it sickening, Peter called it sweet, and Remus just rolled his eyes whenever James asked him to put in a good word for him since he was mates with Lily.

But right in that moment Lily was smiling at him; a glint in her eyes. A challenge.

Oh, it was on.

The two teams stepped together to form huddles, discussing strategies and tactics. More than half of the football team were on James’ side, which worked out perfectly for him. As a natural born leader, though being captain of the team certainly didn’t hurt, James easily adopted the role of Field Marshal in the war against the other team. The team listened to his plan, nodding along, and looking excited.

A whistle was blown; the huddles separated once more.

Instructions, rules, and everything in between were called out by Ms McGonagall, the stern woman not even needing to borrow Mr Flitwick’s megaphone to be heard. Catapults were loaded, water balloons at the ready.

Another whistle. Hell was unleashed.

It was intense, chaotic, and possibly the most fun James had ever had in his life. Students were pelted with balloons; the thin plastic splitting on impact and drenching the victim’s clothes in surprisingly cold water given the summer heat. Screams and gasps filled the air alongside the balloon, but laughter rang loudest.

And James couldn’t help his eyes from drifting to the girl who, like he, manned the helm of the catapult. Their eyes met again; green hitting hazel. The base of James’ catapult slipped beneath his fingers, firing too early before Sirius had loaded in another balloon.

“What the hell, Prongs?”

Oh god, focus, James, he berated himself for getting distracted by the cute redhead that he never quite managed to get out of his mind. Not that he had long to regret his mistake, not when a well aimed water balloon landed directly on the top of his head, drenching him.

“I guess being a football captain isn’t all it’s cut out to be, huh?” A soft, though slightly taunting voice spoke, one James instantly recognised as belonging to Lily Evans.

Everyone had managed to dry off, taking turns to use the awful showers at the campsite before changing into warmer clothes. Groups were gathered around campfires, mugs of hot chocolate clutched in cold hands. Sirius, Remus, and Peter were leading a group in a jaunty sing-a-long of Drunken Sailor, much to Ms McGonagall’s chagrin (though Sirius would swear later that he’d seen her tapping her toes). But James had opted to sit alone, always a bit of a sore loser. It worked out though, as Lily Evans swung her legs over the log he was seated on and sat beside him.

“I had a strategy, my team just didn’t pull through,” James replied, glancing at her before sipping his hot chocolate to hide the blush on his cheeks. She had a thick woollen blanket draped over her shoulder. Her hair was neatly braided down either side of her head into two plaits, the fire highlighting the freckles across her nose. She was so pretty, it was almost unfair.

“Sure, your team didn’t pull through,” Lily laughed, sending a jolt running through James’ stomach at the sound. The feeling was made worse when she plucked the mug out of his hands and took a sip, humming as the chocolate coated her tongue. “I’m pretty sure I saw you get distracted for a moment there, Potter. Or did I imagine that you fired an empty catapult?”

“No, you’re right,” James managed a soft smile, watching her. She was so more at ease now that exams were over, the usually constant strain on her face having vanished. “I got distracted.”

Lily hummed again, shifting a little closer to him on the log. Was he imagining it, or was she blushing?

“Distracted by what, exactly?”

“I think you know.”

“I think I know too.”

The singing grew louder and louder as more classmates started to join in, the kids all dancing around the campfire like they were in a scene from Peter Pan. Even the teachers were clapping along. But two figures sat together, away from the group, oblivious to their classmates. They were smiling softly at each other, hands intertwined beneath the blanket Lily had been wearing which was now tucked neatly over their laps. Unnoticed by most of their friends, the two spoke quietly to one another, leaning close.

James had been right, this end of year school trip was by far the best one he’d ever been on.

#jily #jily fanfic #jily challenge #ginemrys #jilyism #james potter #lily evans

[idontblushsrry]

Itadori Yuuji Boyfriend Headcanons

A/N: Reader is from America and a black female. Idk why i decided to write this but I think that Yuuji would be a fun boyfriend lmao. I don’t entirely know what the reader’s cursed technique should be so lmk if you have any ideas. Until then enjoy Yuuji and reader being 2 idiots in love. Spoilers for all the eps of jujutsu kaisen up to about episode 11, nothing past that though as I want to finish the show first before reading the manga, so please be respectful of spoilers and label them (and tag if necessary) in the comments. Also srry if this cuts off abruptly bcus of the point the show is at. This is also like, all over the place but whatever.

(also sorry this was posted later than usual oops)

Word Count:  1943

This dork-

He is so sweet and kind and considerate 

But also a dumbass but also like he’s your dumbass

You and Yuuji are both equally stupid like bless yalls hearts

You and Yuuji met during his time at the Tokyo Academy when you transferred from America

The moment this man saw you walk up with Gojo-sensei he was smitten

Like your skin was glowing??? how???

And you had a slight accent but like he loved it too

And when you came up to greet him and shake hands you smelled so good and your skin was so soft

((He would later come to find out that the root of that was the shea cocoa butter lotion you used))

But yea mans was smitten and he is fully in love with you lmao

Will do literally anything you ask

You hungry? He’s prepared a 5 course, michelin star meal

Want new clothes? He’s been training for the day he could hold your bags for you

Ran out of hair products?? He’s already back with a special box of your products that he had imported from America

To this day you don’t know how he was able to get those products so quickly

He is loves when you tell him things about you from your day, to your times in america, to how your cursed energy works

Yall are the couple that does stupid shit together

Like one time you showed Yuuji one of those life hack videos and he was like 

“We should totally do that” 

And you were like “Bet”

Needless to say Fushiguro was very confused at the sight of bandaids on both of your fingers the next morning

“???What happened?”

“Well you see, I told Yuuji that I should use the glue gun because he didn’t even know where to put the glue stick. And he said nah, I got it and um yea so I fell and the glue gun was plugged in and then he tripped over me and so now we look like this.”

Gojo and Kugisaki thought that this was hilarious while Fushiguro decided that he’d store your guys’ glue gun in his shadows from now on

How yall manage to get through missions you go on together alive is a miracle

Speaking of missions, you eventually ask Yuuji what’s his deal because you feel a powerful aura coming from him but he never uses cursed energy, always cursed weapons

Cue Sukuna’s mouth popping up on the side of his face like “Hey mamas”

(You can’t tell me that Sukuna isn’t the type of guy to ask where his hug at)

“YUUJI WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?!”

“Oh, I guess you haven’t met Sukuna yet, huh?”

So he sits you down and explains how he ate Sukuna’s finger and you're sitting there like ‘mhm mhm mhm, sorry you what?’

For like 3 days after he told you that you couldn’t bring yourself to kiss him just because you were processing the fact that Yuuji ate someone’s nasty old ass finger and would have to eat 19 more

And the fact that he’s the vessel of like the worst curse known to man 

During those 3 days, Yuuji’s pouting because he’s like ‘I fucked up, now she doesn’t wanna kiss me let alone talk to me because of this monster inside of me :(’

Meanwhile you’re just like ‘why would anyone eat some random mummified finger?’

Eventually you get wind of Yuuji’s bad mood and immediately, you rush to smooth things over with him.

You knock on his door and hear blankets rustling before he goes, “I’m not in the mood to play fight right now Kugisaki’

“Can I come in baby?”

You immediately hear the most comical almost cartoonish amount of noise ranging from a cup falling over, sheets falling off the bed, and what sounds like Yuuji falling flat on his ass before he opens the door

When he does, you’re laughing and it’s like the sky is no longer grey and the world is filled with color

You smile at each other before your moment is interrupted with Sukuna going “Finally, full offense, his whining was getting annoying”

You step inside his room and apologize for ignoring him, explaining that you just needed time to process things, explaining that you should’ve told him that before dipping

He just grabbed you in a bear hug and lifted you of the ground and spinning you around laughing happily, after all he wasn’t even upset with you, he just missed you

And thus begins the honeymoon phase of your guys’ relationship

Fushiguro is actually really happy for you guys and is the most supportive of your relationship but if anyone asked him to admit that out loud he’d actually apparate to the nearest marooned ship

Nobura doesn’t hate you guys but she thinks all couples are disgusting, so while it’s nothing personal, she does gag when you and Yuuji do so much as make goo goo eyes at each other

Gojo is actually like the main cheerleader of your relationship. 

He is the teacher that changes the seating chart to put students he ships together

He was always pairing you and Yuuji up on missions and placing you as sparring partners like ur not slick

If Gojo is the cheerleader, Sukuna is an actual antagonist

Like the man goes out of his way to CHOOSE violence

Like on time you kissed Yuuji’s cheek on a date and when you pulled back, your lip was bleeding and Sukuna’s mouth was smirking at you

Another thing he likes to do is tell you all of Yuuji’s simp^tm thoughts

Like all of them

Now Yuuji isn’t ashamed of how much he loves you and is in fact very open with it, but he doesn’t need Sukuna telling you that the only reason he bought x mouthwash was because it made your breath smell like “sunshine” and he had to see if it would work on him

Speaking of dates, good luck

Now I stand by the fact that Yuuji would never half-ass a date and things with him are certainly never boring

But he’s also like a country boy in the city and his tourist tendencies tend to get the best of him

Like you’ll be trying to find a spot to eat and when you look back Yuuji’s gone

((Prolly to buy another I <3 Tokyo shirt so you can both match))

He always catches up with you ad you eventually learn that but like the first few times be havin you ready to put up a lost child signal on the loudspeaker

He’s very sweet and this is where his thoughtfulness shines through

You and Yuuji plan dates in the same way one plays bingo

Like because you never know where you’re going to be r when exactly you’ll both be free (especially with Gojo-sensei and his bare minimum ass information) you two tend to go ‘ok well if we’re here we’ll go here and if we’re here, we’ll go here’ and so on and so forth

But Yuuji always remembers such little one-off details about you that make your dates.

Like you mention wanting to try a sushi train and he’s already scrolled through multiple yelp reviews and watched every youtube restaurant review like 9 times

But every high has a low and Yuuji and your’s low comes suddenly and it brings you crashing to the ground with no warning and nothing to slow your descent

When your class of first years were sent to exorcise the special grade cursed womb

When Yuuji’s hand got blown off and he told you to run you froze, your mind racing faster than your legs could even start

“(Y/N) RUN!” Yuuji’s voice broke you out of your fear-based trance

“I- I...can’t...I can’t leave you!” you cried out all your rational senses screamed at you to go, run, he had Sukuna and you were barely a grade 2 sorcerer. But your intuition told you if you left him you wouldn’t see him alive again.

You were trapped in a paralysis of indecision but the choice was made for you when a sticky tongue wrapped around your midriff and you were gulped into the mouth of one of Fushiguro’s frogs

“Goddamn it Fushiguro! Let me go! I need to... save... him.” You were outside the building before you could even finish arguing.

You glared up at Fushiguro but your eyes softened some when you saw how beat up Kugisaki looked.

He gave you this look that said he did what he had to do and he didn’t care what you had to say about it 

You and him waited in the rain for Yuuji or Sukuna to exit the building

You tried to focus yourself and save your negative emotions for your cursed attack

When Sukuna inevitably appeared, one finger stronger, you were fully prepared to fight him

However, he didn’t seem interested in fighting you and more engaged in fighting with Megumi

You tried to urge Fushiguro to wait it out, eventually Sukuna would lose control, but when Sukuna took Yuuji’s heart hostage, you both knew you’d have to fight

You and Fushiguro gave it your all but when Yuuji came back he still died 

It took all your strength to not completely fall apart after his death and the support from the second years as well as Kugisaki and Fushiguro helped

You’d tried to visit him at the morgue but Shoko only told you that she didn’t think it’d be a good idea.

You still slept in his sweaters and the things that smelled like him from time to time, trying to make the idea of him last, but after a month, the smell of him had started to fade

Everything about Yuuji’s memory seemed to become leached away with time, from his smell, to the wear present on things he’d given to you

You couldn’t help but feel resentful towards yourself but also to Sukuna, he’d taken Yuuji from you with the same care that one would throw litter on the ground

The pain in your chest didn’t wane either, it only became ignorable to a degree as training for the exchange with the Kyoto students became more intense

Fushiguro is a comfort to you as well, aside from you, him and Yuuji were the closest to each other and so he gets a lot of what you’re going through and doesn’t push when you become more withdrawn

He also lets you pet his demon dog too but when you ask him why he’s letting you pet it he just says ‘because no one would believe you if you told them’ lies

The bastard really just does it because he knows you’re sad and he doesn’t want you to be sad

Speaking of the Kyoto students, Zenin Mai and Toudou Aoi are permanently on your shit list

You’re relieved that Panda, Maki, and Inumaki came to your guys’ aid but like if you had your way Mai wouldn’t even exist

Anyways Maki has Panda physically restrain you while she tries to calm you down 

“(Y/N), you can kick her ass at the exchange!”

When you calm down, Panda puts you down and even though Mai’s long gone with Todou to go get his handshake, you make a promise that carries through the wind

‘Zenin Mai, pray that the next time you run across me I’m feeling kind, because if not-’, the last word is lost as the wind picks up but Mai feels a shiver rack through her body that more than ensures your message.

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen hcs #jjk x reader #itadori yuji x reader #itadori yuji #jjk itadori #black reader #x black reader #idontblushsrry

[sidespart]

The Fall of King Romulus Part 3

Summary: Twin Princes Remus and Romulus are cursed at birth with Honesty and Obedience. When Romulus, who cannot disobey any order, is told to kill his brother the next time he lays eyes on him, he changes his name to Roman and runs away. Roman joins up with a misfit group of adventures and plans to never return to his homeland. But the fae have other plans for him…

Warnings (for whole fic not necessarily individual chapters): Violence, mind whammying/memory altering, curse of obedience related consent issues, references to sex, references to war related injuries/PTSD, references to child abuse/neglect (YMMV on that one but just in case), antagonstic-but-not-exactly villian!Janus, Extremly-moraly-dubious-but-not-exacty-unsympathetic-Remus

Pairings: Mostly Platonic LAMP and all the found family feels. Could be read as pre-slash.

Feedback appreciated. 

NOW ON AO3 :D

Prologue     Chapter 1   Chapter 2  

Remus. Remus, Remus, Remus.

The mad Prince of Notaleveale.

Remus was coming here. Remus was coming to Steveange and if Romulus saw him-

Roman had to leave.

Which was easier said than done; when the streets were crowded with hoards of shoppers and revellers all pressing against him, blocking his path, stealing the air out of his lungs-

“Roman!”

He needed to go. He need to find Virgil and Patton in whatever rooms they’d managed to find, collect his belongings and-

No. That would take too long – he could replace the clothes and books, he already had his sword-

“Roman, what’re you-”

- but he needed his lute. To make any kind of living he had to be able to perform. It was the only thing he was good at and once he’d got away he’d be -

He could do it. He’d run away before. He survived alone, without anyone, he could do it again and-

“Roman! Stop!”

He stopped.

Logan. Heading towards him. But he hadn’t given a time frame and if Roman grit his teeth and pushed past the spike of pain he could start to move again in just a second-

“Wait!”

Dammit.

Roman waited. Fists clenched by his side, until Logan was next to him.

“Roman.”

His chest was tight. His brain wasn’t -wasn’t working right and Logan looked so odd, with his glasses askew and his face flushed – had he been running?

“I thought I saw Patton.” Roman blurted.

It was the first excuse that popped into his head and it was clearly not – not good enough. Logan was frowning at him, a pinched expression, studying him like an experiment and-

Roman hated him, suddenly.

Logan was an upstart swot with ideas above his station and a chip on his shoulder. He poked and prodded and lost them jobs with his terse words and his better than you attitude. He reminded Roman of the tutors who snap at him for his lack of understanding and bark orders for him to recite, repeat, remember, to be better, smarter, stronger: someone worthy of his title.

He reminded him most of all of Julius. His fathers closest advisor, who had been charged with unravelling the Princes’ curses. He was the one who had helped Romulus learn how to push against his curse. He would give him orders that were almost impossible to follow and watch with cold eyes as Romulus struggled to disobey. Together they’d categorised how much pain he could withstand, what orders could be navigated and misinterpreted and which ones he was truly helpless against.

Once, he’d bid Romulus to stand on one leg. And left him there until his muscles started to cramp and shake, waiting to see if gravity or the curse was stronger. Romulus had been in tears by the end. Had even wondered, briefly, about complaining to his parents. But is was such a silly, innocuous order compared to other experiments. What had truly upset him was how Julian had just stood there, not speaking, his eyes distant and cold and calculating as he noted down every twitch and whimper from the boy. Even when he circled him, Romulus could feel those eyes boring into the back of his neck like a-

“Princey.”

Roman blinked. Julius’ practice room disappeared, replaced with the sights and sound of the Steveange street. Logan was in front of him and his eyes were far from cold. When he spoke it was with the same gentle tone that Roman had heard him use when Virgil’s worries overwhelmed him or when Patton woke from a nightmare and didn’t know where he was.

“Did the cro- the woman. Did she say something to you?” Logan was holding his hand. Gently but firmly, he tugged at Romans tightly clenched fingers, encouraging them to unfurl. Roman stared uncomprehendingly at the deep crescent marks he’d made in his palm.

Slowly, Logan released his right hand and reached for his left, repeating the process.

Roman felt shame ripple through him.

Logan wasn’t Julius. Logan would never push him so far he broke.

Logan was his friend and Roman has made him worry with his silly behaviour and his slapdash lie. But he could fix it.

He forced a smiled. Flexed his fingers and straightened up his full height. Made a show of looking around him.

“I swear I saw him. Big man, big sword, big smile – he’s hard to mistake!”

Hesitantly, Logan glanced around too before quickly refocusing on Roman.

“Are you sure you –���

“Ah well, the mind plays trick I suppose – must be hunger getting to me, speaking of which…”

Roman reached forward and deftly snatched the bag from Logan's grasp, reaching in blindly and shoving the first pastry he found into his mouth.

“Mmmm so good!” He beamed at Logan with berry stained teeth, flakes of pastry flying through the air. “Aren’t you going to have one?”

Logan stared at him. Roman kept his smile sweet and his eyes clear. He held up the bag and wiggled it enticingly.

Hesitantly, Logan took the bag and selected a tart. Keeping his eyes on the bard the entire time, he ate his treat with much more refinement then Roman had shown. “Holding back?” Roman asked, teasing, “I’ve seen you eat jam before, there’s no point pretending to have table manners now.”

Logan just hmphed but his shoulders relaxed slightly and Roman decided to take that as a victory. “We should get going” Roman said and started walking, Logan easily falling into step beside him.

The streets were crowded enough that none of the sellers seemed to feel the need to call to Roman specifically, and so this time he was free to investigate the stalls he was actually interested in.

But instead he stayed by Logan's side

Logan was a good friend. For all he claimed to lack an understating of emotional nuances he was letting Roman have his space. He’d even distracted him earlier, when his biggest concern had been the a spike of homesickness after meeting their northern customer.

He was nothing like Julius.

Roman was going to miss him so much.

***

Roman kept up his performance of normality all the way back to the main square, where they had agreed to meet the others once their mission was done. The sky was beginning to turn dark by the time they got there, though it was easy enough to navigate from the sheer number of stalls still in operation, each one boasting its own selection of colourful lanterns.

“This is fantastic!” Roman gasped theoretically, spinning on one foot to take in the whole spectacle.

“It’s a fire hazard.” Logan muttered with a frown.

They found Virgil waiting for them by the central fountain. He had manged to find a seat on the fountains edge but was wedged between two young couples who had clearly taken the romantic festival atmosphere to heart. The healer’s shoulders were up by his ears and his cloak was wrapped so tightly around himself it looked constricting. When he saw them he sprang to his feet so quickly he almost knocked one of the young ladies into the water.

“Took you two long enough.”

Roman and Logan glanced at each other.

“Logan got lost-”

“Roman kept wandering off.”

“-We brought you baked goods!”

Virgil took one of the two remaining pastries with minimal grumbling and led them out of the square. They took the north east road, a path that curved its wary upwards into the higher levels of the city. Here the buildings were all built of a blush-pink marble that sparkled in the evening twilight. The streets were wide, with neatly arranged flowerbeds and street lights which had the steady glow of Arkazeii glow lamps rather than the flicker of oil. There were certainly no traders spread out on blankets. Logan looked distinctly unimpressed.

“Was this inn you found an…economical choice?”

“It was a ‘the whole town’s rammed and this was the only place with a room left’ choice.” Virgil snarked “and don’t worry – its one room for all four of us with no breakfast included, if you were worried about getting too… bourgeoisie…or whatever."

Logan raised his hands for peace.

“I’m sure you did the best you could.”

“Well …we were lucky.” Virgil told him, and then glanced over at Roman, his lip twitching.

“Apparently they give discounts to performers.”

***

The inn was certainly a cut above their normal haunts. With brightly painted walls almost obscured by well pruned climbing plants, outdoor seating, and a wrought iron gate leading to spacious stables behind the building.  Even the doors were of better quality then your typical village tavern – made of wood heavy enough to make a satisfying crash when Roman stormed in.

The room was crowded, but Patton really was hard to miss. Roman shoved his way through to the back table where the big man sat waiting. Leaving other customers cursing in his wake.

‘Hey kiddo!’ Patton greeted him with a wide smile “Did you-“

“Key.” Roman snarled.

Patron blinked and him, shock writ large on his face. “Sorry?”

“The key. To my room.  Give it.” Roman snapped. “It is mine right? Since you seem happy to pimp me out in exchange for-“

“Hey!” That would be Virgil. Roman half thought he had left both men behind in his rage after Virgil’s little announcement, but the elf at least seemed to have kept up. He’d reached the table just in time to hear the start of Roman’s rant. “What the hell is your problem Princey?”

“My problem? Oh I’m sorry, I’M not the one signing other people up to sing for their supper without permission Virgil.”

“You like singing for your – we thought you’d want to!”

“Well it would have been nice to have a choice!”

“Virgil. Roman.” That was Logan, it had taken longer for the shorter man to force his way through the crowd but he wasted no time now in inserting himself into Romans business. “whatever this is… it’s not about putting on a show.”

He turned to the other two. Virgil scowling, Patton wide eyed.

“He had an…episode in the market.”

“Excuse me?” Roman shouted.

“Roman, whatever disturbed you, you practically ran away.”

“Well perhaps I had simple grown tired of looking at your face? Had you considered that?”

He turned his back to Logan, rounding on Patton again: “Now, give me the-“

Patton already had his hand out, wrought iron key resting loosely in his palm.

“We’re on the fourth floor.” he said calmly as Roman snatched it from him. “First door once you get up the stairs.” Roman spun on his heel only to find Virgil blocking his path.

“Move.” Roman hissed.

“What is wrong with you?” Roman narrowed his eyes. Virgil looked angry. Looked one second away from telling him to sit down, shut up, stop causing a fuss. He wondered if he could get past him without using his sword.

“I’ll bring you up some food in a bit,” Roman blinked glancing back at Patton, startled. The warrior still hadn’t moved from the table - admittedly no easy task in the cramped corner- and was looking at him calmly.

“I don’t want anything” Roman muttered, sullen.

“But you might later.” Patton smiled at him. Not knowing how to respond Roman turned back to Virgil. The elf glanced between the two, chewed on his bottom lip for a moment, before sighing and stepping to the side. Not fast enough to prevent Roman from knocking his shoulder with his own as he pushed past however.

It wasn’t as satisfying as he hoped.

**

At a guess, the room was normally meant for storage not guests. Two rickety looking beds had been shoved in, so close together they might as well have been one. There was one small table forced between the end of one bed and the wall, with a basin of water perched on top. Someone,  presumably Patton, had organised their bags neatly at the end of the beds. Roman’s was at the far end, closest to the window. Then Patton, then Virgil with Logan closest to the door, next to the only built in shelf where a candle had been left for the night. Roman would be able to wake with the dawn, as he liked to do, and Logan would have light for the longest to stay up and read.

Romans lute was not on the floor with his pack.  Instead he found in had been placed on the bed itself, propped up on his pillow, away from any potential harm.

Whatever righteous anger he had been able to hang on too as he stomped upstairs dropped out of him now like a stone from a cliff. Without it, the despair he had felt in the market came rushing back. He sank down right there by the door, bringing his knees up to his chest as he’d done in the forest. As he used to do in Julius’ room.

He almost wished Julius was here – at least he would tell him not to cry.

The through was so absurd he let out a weak snotty laugh and buried his head in his arms.

He needed to leave Steveange.

He didn’t want to leave them.

But they had planned to stay for a week at least, hopefully longer.

Convince them to leave early? Except he couldn’t explain why. Find them a job out of the city? How? When the coronation and accompanying celebrations were over it would be easy enough to find a traveling group in need of a little extra protection, but for now no one was leaving.

They’d been excited to come. Virgil want to try the city baths, famed for their heated pools and soothing water. Logan had been talking about the library for half the trip. Patton was just excited to explore the city itself, meet the people and try the food. He loved when they stopped in busier towns but it was a rarity.

There was no way Roman would be able to convince them to leave just because he wanted to.

Roman did what other people wanted. It was all he knew how to do.

And even if he had a convincing reason…well, they probably didn’t want him around anymore anyway.

He scrambled up, grabbed the first pillow he could reach and buried his face in it to muffle a scream of frustration which turned into more sobs.

He was so pathetic.

Since he’d left home, he’d kept his memories, kept Romulus, buried as deep as he could. But now it was like Romulus was just under his skin. Ready to jump out If he let himself slip. With all his anger and hurt and fear.

Romulus was a liability.

Romulus was a murder. Or would be. If Roman couldn’t think.

He stepped over to his pack, still hugging the pillow to him like a teddy bear, and started to review the contents. He didn’t need to take all of this with him, surely? Half of it wasn’t even his, their belongings having become more and more intertwined the longer they travelled.

The healing salve was rightfully Virgil’s, the soft shirt he wrapped himself in during cold nights was actually Patton’s, at least one of the notebooks belonged to Logan.

He opened the nearest book to check, but instead of Logan's neat lists his own sloppy scrawl stared back at him. Song lyrics and passing thoughts and, on the next page, an unfinished sketch. It was of Virgil, hand covering his mouth but eyes betraying his laughter. The other pages, he knew contained scribbles of all three of them. He flicked back and found his favourite, the page marked with a yellowed leaf he couldn’t remember picking up.

It showed all three in one sketch. Logan, sleeping and so looking years younger, head pillowed on Virgil’s thigh. Virgil was turned towards Patton, rolling his eyes as if to say ‘can you believe this?’ but making no move to actually shift scholar off him. Patton was laughing, he was the most well rendered of the three figures, you could almost see his shoulders shaking.

Roman looked at it for a moment. Then slowly replaced the book mark and closed it. This would have to come with him.

A knock at the door startled him so badly he dropped the book, which bounced under the bed.

“Kiddo? Can I come it?”

Fuck.

Patton. He had -he had been so, so unbelievably rude to Patton.

His first instinct, which was admittedly not a good one, was to jump out of the window.

Roman took a deep breath. Focusing on the mundane task of sorting items had cleared his head somewhat. He was still a little shaky but his eyes were dry. He knew what would be expected of him now - Romulus had spent most of his life apologising.

“Come in.” he croaked and stood, squaring his shoulders.

Patton entered alone, two bowls of something that smelled delicious cradled in his arms.

Roman ignored the sudden spike of hunger – the fruit tart seemed a long time ago now- and bowed from the waist. He kept his back ramrod straight and bent low enough that it quickly became uncomfortable. It was the kind of bow Romulus would only have given his father or elder brother.

“Patton, I owe you my most humble apology I-“

“Roman I am so sorry.”

“The way I spoke to you was the height of disrespect and unprin- ungentlemanly behaviour I – wait, what?”

He straightened up and looked at Patton, confused. “Why are you sorry?”

“Roman, I – wait hold on.” Patton handed him one of the bowls and turned to close the door. “Do you mind if we sit?” he asked and Roman nodded, smiling despite himself. Patton was the politest person he had ever met.

Once they were both seated, Patton’s bad leg stretched out in front of him, Patton looked at him seriously.

“Roman you were right downstairs. We should never have promised you’d perform without asking you first - no it's true!”

But Roman was already shaking his head. “Patton you were fine, you know I love singing! I was the one acting like, like some sort of beast I-“

“I know you love singing but that doesn’t mean we get to pick and choose when-“

“But I wanted to perform as much as possible whilst we were here- I’d told you that!”

“-especially after travelling all week. We were, er, presumptuous.”

Roman stared at him.

“Unlike this soup, which is pre – scrumptious.”

Patton beamed at him. Roman groaned.

“Anyway I’m sorry for letting you stew-“ he held up the bowl again waggling his eyebrows “- up here for so long, but we needed to make things right with the landlord.”

Roman, who had been starting to relax under the force of two puns in a row, tensed again. “What things?”

Patton smiled. “We paid the difference – you don’t have to perform! Uhh unless you want to of course, but it’s your choice.” He nodded decisively whilst Roman gaped.

“b-but isn’t it expensive?”

Patton just shrugged, “Well, the last job paid well didn’t it?”

“Not that well!”

“Aw c’mon kiddo, what’s the point of having money if we don’t spend it? Right?”

Not knowing what to say. Roman shoved a spoonful of stew into his mouth without tasting it. Guilt turning the meal to ash.

“Patton…how many days did you pay for?”

“The rest of the week! And there’s still enough to have some fun at the markets, don’t worry, we can all have a – hey!” Patton put his bowl down, shuffling closer to put one warm hand on Roman’s knee.” Roman, hey kiddo, buddy what’s wrong?”

Roman found, quite to his surprise, that he was trembling. He followed Patton's example and put the bowl carefully on the floor before digging the heels of his hands into his eyes. “I…can’t Pat. I can’t stay here. I have to go.”

“Go?” Patton looked at him with confusion clear in his big brown eyes, “But why kiddo? You don’t like the inn?”

Roman groaned shaking his head “not the inn. The city. I’m not – I can’t – if ‘m here it- “ he let out a whine of frustration, hating his curse heavy tongue.

Never tell anyone about our conversation.

“I just-“ My brother is coming and if I see him I-

“If – “ my brother is coming and he won’t be alone. There are people who know who I really am and I –

“Okay.”

Romans head snapped up.

Patton still had a frown on his face but when he looked at Roman his eyes were as serious as Roman had ever seen them. “If you can’t tell me the details it’s fine but-“ he lent forward, “Roman, are you safe here?”

Without breathing, Roman shook his head. No.

Patton nodded and squeezed his knee. “Well then of course we’re not staying.” Hesitantly, he lifted his arm and rested one large hand on the back of Romans neck. Forcing their eyes to meet. “Whatever it is – we will help you. You know that don’t you?”

Embarrassingly, Roman felt his eyes filling with tears.

“We’ll leave in the morning.” Patton told him. Patton stood up, taking Romans congealing stew and his own empty bowl and headed to the door. He paused, one hand on the door handle. “Everything’s going to be okay kiddo.” he smiled, “We love you.”

And he was gone.

For a long moment Roman sat frozen, staring at the closed door.

“Yeah.” He agreed, eventually. “Right.”

Except. They didn’t. Not really.

They loved Roman.

Roman had screamed and insulted them and instead of kicking him out of their group like they had every right to do, they had given up what little money they had just to make Roman feel better.

And Roman was a lie.

Roman was Romulus with a bad haircut. And Romulus was everything they weren’t’ – a stupid, pampered, prince with no power or pride.

Patton might be willing to upheaval their lives just on Roman's say so, But Logan and Virgil were more practically minded. They would want explanations. Might even demand them.

Never tell anyone about your curse. Remove yourself from anyone who might ask you about it and put as much distance between you as you can.

Romulus was a liability.

One they shouldn’t have to deal with.

He strapped his lute to his back and secured his dagger in a hidden pocket that Virgil had taught him how to sow.  Everything else he left, including, after a moments hesitation, his sword. He had been training Logan to use it, on and off, and whilst the scholar was no solider he was improving. At the very least, it would be some source of protection until they could hire another swordhand for their travels.

The climbing plants he had noticed on the way in made getting down from the window much easier than he had originally anticipated. Dusting off his hands he skirted the building, taking care to avoid the large windows of the main hall, until he found the entrance to the the stables.

He wasn’t proud of it, but he had stolen before when he first left home. He would have to again now in order to put some distance between the city and himself.

It wasn’t his worst plan.

And it might even have worked, had they not already been waiting for him.

When Romulus was eleven, and had taken to following the young Marquis de Orenlla around like a love sick puppy. Even now, under the weak light of a covered lantern and with almost fifteen years distance from the memories, he still recognised him instantly.

“Good evening, your highness.” The Marquis smile was as dazzling as he remembered, although his eyes were colder.

He had no army with him, and no weapon that Roman could see. But then, why would he need one?

“Come with me.”

Roman went.

part 4

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #roman sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #creativitwins #this chapter is just #roman having an extended panic and making piss poor decisions #but also having great friends #alas #sidespart writes #TS: Fall of Romulus

[tf2-headcanons-and-scenarios]

Hewwo! Can I request some headcanons on how each mercenary would raise their daughter from childhood to adulthood? Thanksies!! Also, I adore your writing 😘💞

A/N: A nice short and sweet thing I hope you lot enjoy! My desire to have children when I’m older and married is strong so it fueled this for me :)

Scout:

- Honestly this man has no clue how to raise a daughter

- He knows how to raise boys, but knows nothing about raising girls, so you help him out more times than he wants to admit

- He definitely wants to make sure his daughter stays healthy and active, so growing up he introduces her to various sports

- Baseball, Softball and American Football are among the 3 most played sports between Scout and his daughter

- Early morning runs became a tradition between Scout and his girl growing up. Unless one was injured or sick, they would ALWAYS run in the morning

- Scout looks to you for giving your daughter life advice because try as he might he just can’t seem to give the right advice to her

- Overprotective? Nah, so long as his daughter doesn’t do something incredibly stupid or brings home a very dangerous partner

- When Scout’s daughter reaches adulthood, they continue with their morning jogs and start to play aggressively against each other in sport

Soldier:

- This man goes from hardcore drill seargent to hardcore softie in a matter of SECONDS after meeting his daughter for the first time

- This man is about discipline and self-routine. He’d try to make sure his daughter can look after herself properly in case anything was to happen

- He would definitely give in to the tea parties, he so would

- When she’s old enough, he’d teach her how to shoot a gun for self defence

- He leaves the stuff about school and girl-based advice to you

- He is literally the dad holding a shotgun when his daughter brings home a romantic partner, and he will intimidate them and their loyalty to his daughter

- Soldier will reward good behaviour and actions, often taking his daughter out to see a movie or get some ice cream

- When Soldier’s little girl becomes a woman, he’ll teach her how to use explosives and basically drop in with a packet of bread and stories to tell

Pyro:

- Pyro is just excited about having a daughter, that’s another person to host tea parties with!

- Dear god where they afraid of hurting her, especially since they worked with dangerous amounts of fire 24/7

- Cute clothes for the baby girl? FUCK YES!!!

- Stuffed toys? YOU BET!!!

- You enjoy watching Pyro play with your little girl, and you loved to join in

- All three of you celebrate the holidays like there is no tomorrow, and you absolutely love it

- Pyro surprisingly teaches your daughter how to be safe around fire. The last they want is to see their little girl covered in burn marks

- They are generally good with giving advice, but stuff like puberty is a zone Pyro does not go to, often leaving those questions with you

- When your daughter grows up, Pyro loves dropping in for tea, and definitely loves bringing up baby photos of your little girl

Demoman:

- Demoman is over the moon when he first met his daughter. He forever counts himself lucky he had the eyesight to see her

- Babyproofed the house and never laid a finger on explosives when she was around

- You never thought you’d see the day Demo would stop drinking, but ever since your daughter was born he didn’t touch a single drop

- He never consistently bagged your child about becoming a demolitions expert, but he always had fun making small and safe explosions in the yard every now and then

- He is the parent who sneaks their child a sip of Whiskey on the rocks. You were certainly not impressed when you caught him

- He did return to drinking as his daughter grew older, but he never drinks to the amounts he drank before she was born

- He is really good with life advice (thanks to his own mother), and is the dad that tries to guide his child along the straight and narrow path

- When she grows up he takes her down to the bar to drink responsibly, and he loves telling her stories of his days working as a mercenary

- You bet he tests the romantic partner with hardcore shots of Rum containing 90% Alcohol

- FYI such alcohol exists

Heavy:

- Heavy helped his mother raise his sisters for years, so having to look after a baby girl was easy for him

- Soft lullabies and fairytale stories at night were Heavy’s favourite moments of the day when your daughter was young

- Great with advice and puberty questions, though he sometimes turned to you to ask if he was answering them properly or not

- Definitely teaches his daughter fluent Russian and boxing

- As she gets older he starts talking more about his past as a mercenary and former life in a Russian gulag

- He definitely teaches his daughter the history of Russia and how bad things can be if a bad person was left in power

- When she grows up he is the loving father who loves talking as often as he can with his daughter. No matter how old she is, he would always call her by her childhood nicknames

Engineer:

- Engi wrote down lullabies on his guitar for her even before she was born

- Baby furniture was all assembled by hand by this Texan man

- He loves giving the infant girl cuddles and tries to get her to speak as early as humanly possible

- As she gets older he allows her into the workshop so long as she promises not to touch or break anything important or dangerous

- The amount of times this daughter of his has broken that rule is enough times to give him chronic back pains at the ripe old age of not-even-50-yet and you so very close to banning her from entering his workshop

- He is great with advice and even greater with schoolwork. He loves having discussions with her about subjects she doesn’t know too well. He will leave you with some personal questions if he can’t find the words for it

- He will encourage her to pursue her passions no matter what they were, even if society deemed it inappropriate. If she wanted to be a nurse or a lawyer or even the fucking Queen of England she can damn well strive to be just that!

- He invents various toys and items for her whenever an idea strikes him fancy, and he will teach her how to handle a wrench and a sink at least

- When she grows up he will continue making things for her and send them her way at random times. He will also be the aged father who loves playing the guitar for her

Medic:

- Local medical man knows you were pregnant with a girl before you were 3 months pregnant

- Said medical man was over the moon he had a daughter to look forward to (you found it surprising that he wanted to dress her up in a lot of cute outfits)

- Medic would always take charge with making sure you and your unborn daughter were healthy and happy throughout the pregnancy

- He would also be the one to deliver the baby! The amount of happy tears he shed holding her for the first time was the most happy you had seen him in a long time

- Having a baby kept Medic in his toes. No child of his, daughter or son, was going to go through the night with a cold!

- He is the one who always patches up his daughter’s scratches with bandaids and song-like words that cheer her up

- God forbid him even let her into the Medbay in the middle of an experiment

- Medic would let his child feed the birds, and Archimedes loves hanging around your daughter

- Medic would go to you for help when he needed advice on how to take care of his little girl properly, but otherwise the both of you were just fine

- When your daughter grew up the first thing she did was go to Medical school inspired by her father’s career, and he would help support her as much as he could

- She would also take care of her own brood of doves

- She promised to keep away from experimenting for your sake

Spy:

- THIS MAN WAS A NERVOUS WRECK WHEN HE FOUND OUT YOU WERE PREGNANT

- He already failed to raise one child, so why did fate give him another?!

- He promised himself he wouldn’t run like he did with his first child, and stuck with you throughout the pregnancy

- He would not let you mention how much he cried holding your daughter for the first time to anyone else

- He was a very cautious man once your daughter arrived. He even stopped smoking inside buildings to avoid ruining her lungs

- Taught her how to speak French as early as she could understand it. This may have lead her to develop his accent over time but you love it

- Advice was something Spy trusted you to do more than himself. He would never shake the fear he was going to fail at his second attempt at being a father

- You always found your heart melting whenever you caught your daughter and Spy resting with one another after reading a bedtime story

- Even after growing up, Spy always looked out for his daughter, and wouldn’t hesitate to protect her from any of his enemies that try to harm her or you

- He is forever grateful he was given a second chance at fatherhood, and did his best to not let it go to waste

A/N: So I’m back! Hope ya didn’t miss me too much. Thanks for being patient with me!! 💕💕

#tf2 #tf2 headcanons #tf2 x reader #tf2 scout x reader #tf2 soldier x reader #tf2 pyro x reader #tf2 demoman x reader #tf2 heavy x reader #tf2 engineer x reader #tf2 medic x reader #tf2 sniper x reader #tf2 spy x reader #scout x reader #soldier x reader #pyro x reader #demoman x reader #heavy x reader #engineer x reader #medic x reader #sniper x reader #spy x reader #teamfortress2headcanons #tf2 reader insert #team fortress 2

[harryhandstan]

I am so excited to finally be posting this for y’all! Thank you so much for all the hype and support it is very much appreciated. :) this is my piece for @goldenbluesuit​‘s Christmas Fic Challenge! my prompt was the song “Do You Want to Build a Snowman?” from the movie Frozen and I hope you all enjoy how I’ve incorporated it into my Dad!Harry series. You don’t necessarily have to read the other parts to understand this one, but I’ll link them below in case you want to re-visit them. 

I Want Your Belly ❄ Wonderful and Warm ❄ Washed Away in You 

Thank you to @tbslenthusiast​ and @heartbreakweatherharry​ for reading over this for me and giving me such amazing feedback! 

Word count: 2.3k

You still couldn’t believe the little wonder that had been created by you and Harry existed to be yours. Things hadn’t been perfect, far from it, but it was definitely a new and fun adventure you were both eager and terrified of.

The first challenge presented was finding a name perfect enough to fit your son. He was alive for 24 hours before you discovered one you and Harry were absolutely sure of. Even seeing it written on his birth certificate made your heart swell with pride.

It’s your mother who asks first, “Well, are you two gonna make a formal announcement to the press before us grandparents get to know the name of our grandson?”

“Think we’ve made them wait long enough, Harry.”

He smiles at you from across the hospital room where he sits in a chair, the baby resting peacefully on his chest. You’re propped up in the bed, wrapped in the soft pink robe given to you by him just a few days ago. Anne sits nearby, a proud grin on her face at the sight of her baby with his.

His eyes dart from the baby to you, “You wanna tell them or shall I?”

“You tell them. You’re the one that found it, been bragging about it all day too.”

“Alright then,” He gently lifts the baby, turning him to where the whole room can see him, your son’s face now scrunched up by the light from the window shining on him, “Ladies, meet your grandson, Sterling Edward Styles.”

“Oh, you didn’t,” Anne giggles, reaching over to pat your leg, “You’ll never hear the end of it, love, letting him name the baby after himself.”

“Hey! S’her idea to give him my middle name. I picked the first,” His features switch from temporarily offended back to beaming, “Wanna tell ‘em what it means, darlin’?”

“Sterling means ‘starling’, or as Harry likes to call him..”

“Our little star.” 

5 weeks later, your son certainly lives up to his name, charming everyone he meets. Sweet smiles and coos at strangers from his carrier when you’re at the grocery store or falling asleep in Auntie Gemma’s arms when she comes to visit. You were not surprised he already had his father’s charismatic ability to make everyone fall for him so quickly.

With Harry’s schedule as busy as it had been, it hadn’t been easy to adjust to life together as new parents. As much as he had tried to push things back or reschedule to have more time off with you, there was only so much that he was in control of and he was away from you and Sterling more than he liked.

So it’s no surprise when he comes home one evening and the space you share is mostly already decorated for the winter holidays. He smiles warmly to himself when he hears you singing along to the movie playing from the tv, peeks around the corner to see Sterling tucked away in his swing, his eyes open and bright. Your back is turned so you don’t hear Harry approaching, continuing to sing aloud as you work.

“We only have each other, it’s just you and me, what are we gonna dooooooo?” You spin around, expecting to only see Sterling watching you, yelping when you find Harry, giggling at the shock on your face.

He bends to look out the window, “Could be wrong, but I think you have to have snow to build a snowman, yeah?”

“You’re early! I wanted to surprise you,” You weave your way around boxes to greet him, “Left the tree for the 3 of us to do together though.”

“S’nice of you.” His hands remain in his pockets as you move closer, tired eyes looking down at you, lazy smile as you work your arms around his waist. He doesn’t make you wait long, freeing his hands from his pockets to wrap around you. 

He buries his face in your neck, “Missed you today.”

“We missed you too, H.”

He pulls back, turning to look down at Sterling, his arm still holding you close to his side, “He’s growing too fast. Can’t believe he’s already 5 weeks.”

“5 weeks and 3 days,” You remind him, “All the mommy blogs say we have an infant now.”

“S’that s’pose to mean? ‘Course he’s an infant.”

“Just means he’s growing out of his tiny baby stage.”

He directs his attention back to the movie playing, laughing as he teases you, “Least y’could’ve done is found a proper Christmas movie t’play while you put up decorations.”

You shrug, “It’s close enough to count. Plus he LOVES it. Think Elsa might be his favorite.”

He can’t resist anymore. As comfortable as his son may be swaying back and forth in his swing, he bends to scoop him up, one hand cradling behind his head and the other behind his back to easily support him. Sterling clearly doesn’t mind, a grin developing when he realizes who it is disturbing him.

“Don’t care what anyone says, bub. Y’ll always be daddy’s baby.”

You never doubted Harry’s capacity to love his son, but you definitely questioned his expertise and knowledge of the basics of caring for a child. He had become somewhat experienced now, tackling late night diaper changes and early morning feedings or anything else in between without complaint when he could. 

Though he had done great, you were never too far away that you couldn’t offer assistance when he needed it. So when he gets a rare day off and suggests you let him stay home with the baby while you run errands, you’re hesitant.  

“Do ya not trust me?”

“Of course I do. You know I do. I just don’t want you to get overwhelmed.”

“S’just for a few hours, right? You can write out a list of his schedule if it makes y’feel better.”

Sterling’s stretched across your lap, dozing off while you try to finish the last of your breakfast. Harry stands at the counter, drinking coffee out of a bright pink mug. You look between your almost sleeping son and then back up to Harry, chewing a bite of toast as you contemplate the idea.

He doesn’t take offense to your hesitation, quite the opposite actually. He adores the sight of you, Sterling’s face squished against your chest; one of his hands tucked under his chin, the other wrapped around your side, his little fist holding tight to your t-shirt. It’s the purest form of love in his eyes, to see the bond between mother and son grow and deepen with each day. Makes him reminiscent of his connection with his own mother, fills his heart with so much joy knowing he had chosen someone that would give his son the same sweet upbringing he had.

He makes his way back around the counter to you, a hand resting on the top of Sterling’s head as he bends down to kiss the top of yours. He moves his hand, repeating the act of affection to the top of the baby’s head. 

“Really proud of you, y’know that right, baby? Been so amazing watching you take care of yourself and our little boy, never doubted for a second you were meant for this, but it’s been more incredible than I could’ve ever imagined.”

“Proud of you too, H. Know you’ve had a lot of guilt about being gone, but Sterling and I love you so much. He already lights up at the sound of your voice when you FaceTime us from set, and I see the way he grins at you before he falls asleep when you’re here to tuck him in at night.” 

His eyes meet yours, sees the moment you make your decision to say yes, deep exhale of warm breath trapped between the two of you, “You have to promise to call if anything happens, if you need anything at all. Don’t care how small it is.” He nods firmly, further setting your mind at ease, “He should sleep most of the time I’m gone, but I’ll prepare another bottle just in case I can’t get back in time.”

You feel silly for feeling so protective, and you were thankful to have Harry as your partner on this journey. His patience and support had been more than generous, covering you and Sterling in more love and adoration than you’d ever known could exist from one person. He kisses you again, on your lips this time, a hand cupping one side of your face before gently lifting Sterling from your arms, shushing and bouncing him a bit when he starts to whimper from the sudden change in his comfortable position.

“S’okay, bubs. Daddy’s got you, g’nna have us a lil’ boys day while mumma’s gone.” 

You rush through whatever tasks you had scheduled that seemed so important that morning. Suddenly the groceries you needed and last minute presents you were dropping off at the post office to mail to out of town family didn’t matter, nothing did but getting back home to your boys.

It’s quiet when you shut the door behind you, almost too quiet. As much as you always prayed he would, Sterling never slept through his morning nap, so you’re surprised at the possibility of him still sleeping peacefully. Not that he was old enough to make too much noise yet, but still the silence worries you enough that you don’t even take the time to put away the groceries. You set the bags on the kitchen counter, making your way through the house to the living room first.

All your concern fades at the sight of Harry on the couch, Sterling snuggled in his arms with his back pressed against Harry’s front, his little body covered in a red and white striped onesie with a reindeer on the front, matching pair of green socks on his tiny feet. It’s such a comforting image, you once again question why you had any doubt at the thought of leaving the two of them alone. Harry hasn’t noticed your presence yet, or if he has he hasn’t said anything, and you’re content to keep it that way for a few more minutes to observe the vision set before you.

You notice the movie that’s playing, it’s the same one from a few nights ago that Harry teased you for. You cross your arms, quirking one eyebrow upwards before you repeat Harry’s words from that night out loud, “Boys day, huh? Could’ve at least found a proper Christmas movie to watch while I was gone.”

“I’ve decided you’re right, it does count. I can see why he loves it so much.” He looks up at you from where you lean over back of the couch now, a soft “hi” falling from his lips, tilting his head up to accept the kiss you offer. Sterling coos, and when you look down, he’s looking up at you too. 

“Mommy missed you too, baby boy.”

“Come sit with us, lovie, watch the rest of the movie.”

“Gimme a minute to put the groceries away and I will.”

“I’ll pause it and come help.”

“No, stay,” You run your hand through his hair, pushing the curls away from his face, “There’s not that much, I got it.”

You work swiftly to put everything away, taking a minute to change back into your pajamas before you rejoin them, curling yourself against Harry’s side under his free arm. Sterling’s dozing again, most likely falling into a milk coma from the bottle he had just finished, but it doesn’t stop the two of you from continuing to watch the same movie together. You offer to take Sterling or put him in his swing, but he just shakes his head no, clinging tighter to him and you.

“S’my favorite part, this song.”

“What? It’s the saddest one. Elsa and Anna’s parents die in this one.” 

He shrugs, careful not to shuffle Sterling and disturb his sleep, “Maybe, but s’catchy, gets stuck in my head more than the others.” 

He begins humming along to the intro music, nudging you softly to persuade you to start singing along with the character on the screen. You sit up, dramatically clearing your throat before you do. Harry knows more of the words than he cares to admit, but would rather hear the lyrics sung by you. He giggles at you as you even change your voice to mimic the silly parts.

“It gets a little lonely. All these empty rooms. Just watching the hours tick by…”

Harry provides the tick-tock part, clicking his tongue off-tune to the ones playing in the song. That’s enough to make you laugh out loud, temporarily forgetting the sleeping baby now resting on Harry’s chest. He shushes you playfully, his body shaking through his own laughter thankfully soothing Sterling enough that he doesn’t wake up.

You compose yourself as the song turns slow and mournful, tucking yourself back to Harry’s side again. His hand works around to cup your waist, squeezing lightly to pull you closer, the vibrations of him humming along again a comforting rumble against your body. His voice is quiet, barely above a whisper as he sings the last notes of the song.

“We only have each other. It's just you and me. What are we gonna doooooo?”

Your eyes scan the whole of the room. Your boys nestled together next to you, the tree in the corner of the room the 3 of you had decorated together a few days before, the pile of presents that had already accumulated underneath it. You spot your favorite ornament, a silver star with Sterling’s full name engraved on the front, “Baby’s First Christmas” etched on the back. Sterling’s first present from your family sent from home. Well, what used to be your home for the holidays. A smile spreads across your face at the simple happiness and realization that this is your home now. 

Harry, Sterling, and you; sun, moon, and star, spending your first holiday together.

 //

Thank you all for reading! As always likes/rbs/and comments are more than welcome. Tell me what you think here!

tag list: @taintedwonder​, @cock-a-doodely-doo

#GBSxmaschallenge #harry styles imagine #harry x reader #my writing #dad!harry

[shookspearewrites]

1. Who are they closest to? How did they meet and what do they like to do together?

7. What are 3 foods they can’t live without?

8. What will always make them smile? What will always make them cry?

For Freda?

Thank you so much for asking, friend! I love talking about my OCs ^^

Ask me something about my 5 OCs from this post!

1: Her closest friend is probably le Comte - He was the one who brought her to the mansion and, he's the father figure: She is always seeking his approval. I also just think that the two of them are kindred spirits: They both enjoy tea, history and fancy clothes (and china dolls since I hc that Comte has a little collection of them). They met at the theatre in Freda's original time - They happened to be sat next to each other and struck up a conversation during the interval - and at the end of the show, she agreed to go back with him after popping home to grab a few of her belongings like her glasses and her diary. The pair of them like to read together and share new teas that they find while they talk about history. And Comte insists on taking Freda dress shopping and spoiling her rotten with new clothes and trinkets.

Romantically speaking, it is Theo and Arthur, they are her boyfriends after all. Freda started a relationship with Arthur after a few months at the mansion and then eventually - after some drunk confessions and making out - Theo joined their relationship, too. Freda is quite happy having the pair of them share her, even though the boys do squabble over who's turn it is for date night sometimes. But don't be mistaken; the three of them would give each other the world if they could. Arthur enjoys taking Freda on exciting, high energy dates that he knows that she'll love, ice skating being their favourite together (Freda has been teaching both of her boyfriends to skate with varying levels of success). Whereas Theo prefers slower paced date with Freda: Museums, art galleries, trips to see the ballet - all things that he is sure that his snoepje will enjoy from observing her carefully and noting her interests over time. Sometimes, Freda will get a little jealous when Theo and Arthur are spending a romantic night together - something which the boys think is obvious when they see her the next morning - and thus, they'll invite her to join them more often. After this, they begin trying new things out as a three, rather than in their seperate little couplings, and it works out wonderfully for them. The three of them are so so in love.

7: Freda does have some issues with food (most things with weird textures) but these are the three foods she could never give up even if she tried:

Potatoes - Yes, it is a simple food but, you can do so many things with them. Being a decently skilled cook, Freda makes all sorts of tasty potato dishes: Dauphinoise potatoes, mashed potatoes, sweet potato pie - she just loves potatoes.

Princess cake (Prinsesstårta) - She doesn't eat it often but, the thought of living in a world without princess cake leaves Freda distraught. She has quite the sweet tooth and enjoys Prinsesstårta on special occasions like her birthday .

Christmas dinner - Okay it might not be one specific food but, Christmas dinner is Freda's favourite meal of the entire year. It is certainly the meal that she looks forward to the most: Roasted parsnips, her beloved potatoes, cranberry sauce, turkey - She enjoys it so much. She probably has such a soft spot for it because Christmas dinner is always shared with loved ones, lots of smiles and warm feelings.

8: Freda will always smile when she dances, sings, skates and creates things. It might sound a little silly but, she cannot help the grin on her face when she dances around the mansion - so much so that le Comte offers to pull some strings for her to join the Paris Opera Ballet. It's the same when she sits down at the piano to tinker with the notes, playing until she creates something new and beautiful.

Being scolded - or rather, being given non-constructive criticism - will always make Freda cry. She strives to be perfect and is 100% a people pleaser so, when someone criticises her without rhyme or reason, and also does not advise her on how to improve or fix her mistakes, leaves her feeling so helpless and vulnerable and ultimately just makes her break down in tears. Theo learnt this the hard way and earned a harsh talking-to from le Comte.

#ikevam oc #ikevamp oc #ikemen vampire oc #shookspeareoc #ikemen vampire x oc #ikevamp x oc #ikevam x oc

[hollandsrecs]

completed series masterlist (1)

links last checked 16/12/2020 | more masterlists here

2 hearts, 22 calibers by heyhihellowhatsup0

summary: despite discovering the new owner of the club you work at may have his own secrets hidden, the temptation to get closer to him outweighs your trepidation...

12 days of christmas by keepingupwiththeparkers

24 hour, long lasting by madmadmilk

summary: a clumsy you, a tube of long lasting lipstick, a small case of stumbling, a stain, and a boy you never imagined to meet.

chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

against the agenda by cosmetologynerd

summary: he was tom holland; love was not on the agenda. 

all of the lights by spiderboytherescue

always, yours by angelicholland

summary: you always knew you loved your best friend but you figured that he would never feel the same way, so you set those useless feelings aside. how will you cope when you find a box of letters that tells you otherwise? is it too late to let go of the butterflies trapped deep within you? would he even feel the same way anymore?

apartment 509 by sweetlysilent

summary: tom brings girls home almost daily, something that bothers you to the end of the world; whereas on the other hand you rarely go out, spending majority of your time focused on your studies, something that drives tom insane, the tension between the two of you becoming thicker, even more when he finds out you have a study date.

attachment by hazinhoodies

summary: maybe you held on a little too tight. you were only trying to salvage the most important relationship of your life.

beneath the waves by cosmetologynerd

summary: “please, i wish to be free.” 

black beauty by blissfulparker

summary: tom, the king of hell, has no time for love or any woman in his life. he spends his days finding new punishments for the people who deserve it. you, spend your days in heaven making everyone happy. never wanting a soul to feel down. what happens when heaven decides to send you down to join tom in hell? why would they send their best angel to the devil himself?

born king by spiderboytotherescue

breaking curfew by wazzupmrstark

summary: when you got the job to be a counsellor at the summer camp you’d grown up attending all your life, you expected to see some familiar faces. but you certainly hadn’t counted on having to work alongside the boy who had made it his life’s mission to make your life a living hell every summer. in fact, you thought you’d never have to see tom holland again. but he’s is in the cabin right across from yours with campers of his own- smirk, jawline, and all. if you didn’t know any better you might’ve thought that he applied for the position just to spite you, but who were you kidding? what kind of asshole would do something like that?

clear by peeterparkr

summary: y/n is in town for summer, she wants the sea to wash away the pains of the past, however when a certain surfer comes into her life, the remaining salt might not decant, but maybe some sweet surprises might come to shore

complications by loserparker

summary: being roommates with tom was easy, fun. that is until feelings started getting involved. throw in the fact that both of you suck at communication and things are bound to get complicated.

contrapposto by madmadmilk

summary: you desperately needed a figure model for your upcoming art final and you find a friend willing to pose for you.

chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

dare you to move by starksparker

summary: friends with benefits is supposed to be just that. friends with the benefits of fooling around and not having anything more than platonic feelings. easy, fun, thrilling, no one gets hurt…right?

determined by blesshimnorris

summary: you are enjoying university life with your fellow housemates, except for tom, who seems to avoid or tease you every chance he gets. but with your birthday slowly approaching he finally tries to make amends.

chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

dine and dash by blissfulparker

summary: tom comes into your diner every tuesday and thursday, it is no secret that he only goes for you. when will he ever be brave enough to say something, when will you ever be brave enough to let him in?

eighteen by angelicholland

summary: y/n is tom’s math tutor and needed a date for sunday dinner. tom has tattoos all over and just looks like the type of guy who would piss off her parents. will their fake relationship turn into something so much more?

eloped by worldoftom

summary: you and tom have been in a secret relationship for a long time, but what would you do if tom proposed unexpectedly during your vacation in casablanca, morocco?

every step of the way by sunshinehollandd

summary: you and tom are best friends, and you have been for as long as you can remember. after one night, everything changes. but, tom is by your side every step of the way.

ex on the beach by heyhihellowhatsup0

summary: eight months after your ugly breakup with tom, you find yourself stuck together for two whole weeks at a private beach house. just you, tom, some mutual friends, what could possibly go wrong?

for king or country by avengers-sweethearts

summary: from the time you were a child you always lived in the castle. your mother and father were both servants and even after they died you stayed on as one yourself. prince yom was always someone you admired from afar. he was the nicest out of all the holland royalty and incredibly handsome. along the way of your daily duties the prince begins to pay you more attention when you save him from an awkward situation. things get more complicated when his jealous betrothed princess zendaya comes to court and stirs up trouble for the forbidden romance. will prince tom follow his heart or stay true to his country? most importantly of all, will you even make it out alive?

forbidden rose by avengers-sweethearts

summary: if there was one person who knew how to throw a party, it was tom holland. in 1922 partying wasn’t uncommon, but a tom holland party was like none ever seen before. the young billionaire thrived off of rumors and speculation. despite the parties being held weekly, no one had ever seen the mystery man. tom intended to keep it that way until one night an enchanting woman caught his eye. but what happens when her cruel fiancé is tangled up with demons from his past. will their love be enough to overcome the trouble that lies ahead?

forever by starksparker

summary: what happens when a fuckboy with some anger issues and a bad streak is forced to work alongside someone who’s his opposite? and what happens if they can be ripped from him in seconds?

ground rules by madmadmilk

summary: you just love holding someone, and being held. It’s not a hard thing to ask for, but it sure can be hard for someone to understand.

chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9

happiness is a butterfly by blissfulparker

summary: you and tom spend your whole lives looking for your soulmates. how could you not see that you two were right under each other’s noses both coming from a mob family?

heart eyes by madmadmilk

summary: tom holland is a friend that you only see once or twice a year, but when the stars align and you finally start to get close to him again you realize that… you’ve never really known each other at all. he has an emoji tailing after every contact on his phone… but none for you. hm. a soft and bumbling story about how you get to know him, and how he gets to know you.

chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

heartbreak weather by t-holland2080

summary: after getting out of a rough relationship, you meet tom, who pulls you out of your heartbreak weather.

heavenly yours by tomsrebeleyebrow

summary: angels live in a perfect world. in a complete ivory tower. but loving someone else is forbidden. a true sin.

hostility by starsholland

summary: everything was going well in your life, living in LA, trying to make it big as a journalist, but all of that is foiled when tom holland walks into your life bringing drama and negativity. how much will you be able to take before you finally lose it?

chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20

hotlanta by hollandorks

summary: a fun night in atlanta forces the reader into a fake relationship with celebrity tom holland in order to save both of their careers.

chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

how to unlove someone by whatevsholland

i only feel you by stuckonspidey

summary: a world in which soulmates feel their other half, physically and emotionally. y/n has given up on finding her soulmate, given up on trying to decipher the sensations he feels and the lifestyle he leads–prompting her to give up on him. her other half, she’d come to find, is the leader of the holland crime family, and in no means the easiest person to love.

kiss currency by madmadmilk

summary: swapping underwear with your best friend’s best friend, while maintaining your cool composure. he’s cute, he’s funny, and you’d be down to kiss him at least once. :)

chapters: 0 | 1 | 2 | 3

lacuna by thollandss

summary: being friends with benefits with a celebrity isn’t easy. nobody said it was.

limits of desire by peeterparkr

summary: you met tom a night he was trying to sleep with you, it didn’t work and you became best of friends. wedding bells might be ringing for when you both realize how you really feel.

london boy by tonguetiedholland

summary: you’re a famous singer and actor whose break up with ex boyfriend, shawn mendes, has just hit the media. when it all feels a bit too much you do the only reasonable thing you can think of, escape to london and lay low for a little while. who knew that tom holland, the boy you’d only met once but had you in the palm of his hand when you did and vice verse, would also be in london at the same exact time?

lucky number by tomhollanders2013

summary: what happens when one of the world’s most famous celebrities accidentally dials your number instead of his new assistant’s... is it a happy accident or a recipe for disaster?

chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

miss yer kiss by angelicholland

summary: a one-night stand turned something more, you and tom meet again against the odds. an aspiring tattoo artist and a famous actor with “i miss you” on the tip of your tongues meet again and again as you slowly realize what love looks like.

model for me by thollandss

summary: in which you are a photographer for GQ, and during a private session with tom holland, you find yourself getting to know him very well.

money can’t buy you love by hilllsnholland

summary: y/n has worked her whole life to get into the prestige university of her dreams. nothing can stop her, right? maybe tom holland, son of billionaires and the poster child of privilege, who has made it his mission to woo the ‘scholarship baby’.

more than i know by lauras-collection

summary: you need a date for your sister’s wedding and the stranger in the coffee shop seems to be the perfect choice. until you see pictures of yourself and him all over the internet because apparently he’s an international movie star and now the whole world thinks you’re dating. and you have to give the people what they want, right? even if it’s fake.

naughty or nice by avengers-sweethearts

summary: the holidays are the worst time to be alone, especially in a brand new city with a brand new job. when an unexpected meeting with famous actor tom holland ends in the exchanging of phone numbers you find yourself in the dangerous position of falling in love with hollywood’s hottest and most eligible bachelor. unable to help yourself, you being to fall for the handsome actor and will do almost anything to earn his affection. trying to balance work, love, and the holiday proves to be more of a challenge than you had initially thought. the million-dollar question is what side of tom’s christmas list will you end up on: naughty or nice?

of broken promises and heartbreak by softspiderling

summary: it’s been six years since you and tom broke up, six years since you’ve last seen each other. a lot has happened, tom got insanely famous, making countless billion dollar movies, attending one red-carpet event after the other. but now he was attending one event, he wasn’t sure he was ready for. your wedding. and he wasn’t attending as your groom.

chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

paint the grass green by lauras-collection

summary: a complicated relationship ends when tom breaks up with you after a fight. but it’s about to get more complicated. because how are you going to tell him that you’re pregnant if he won’t let you talk to him? so you don’t. years later you run into harrison, and there’s no denying that it’s tom’s son who’s tightly holding onto your hand. harrison gives you an ultimatum: either you tell tom, or he will.

peppermint by hollandandi

perfidy by peeterparkr

summary: tom and you have been sworn enemies since you were young. however you happened to be best friends with the twins. when one of your friends challenged you to break tom’s heart, you immediately accepted to get back at him for all the times he’s hurt you. old feelings might come back, while both of you try to go past your pride and your lies.

philanthropy by museinmind

summary: things seemed to be going too well in your life when you became your sorority’s president. so of course something has to go sideways somehow, and you end up having to take a chemistry class if you want to graduate next year. so what better person to tutor you than tom, the frat ultra hot boy who hides the fact he has textbooks nearly memorized?

pinky promises by sunshinehollandd

summary: being a single dad to a four-year-old isn’t easy, but tom figures out a way to make it work with the help of his best friend.

season of reunions by unbelievableholland

summary: you were adopted by 2 mysterious agents. you knew you were adopted and you never thought about your original family. being content with the life your parents gave you, why would you? that was, until your parents are killed and you’re left to fend for yourself and with a lot of questions unanswered.

seeing the thing by angelicholland

summary: you’re stage-managing your school’s spring show, almost, maine when you’re taken out of your element by a cocky boy with a dazzling smile and a way to your heart that makes you hate him before you can see the thing.

sincerely, by whatevsholland

summary: you and tom were childhood best friends. but when he started dating the girl who got everything you ever wanted, it began a falling out between you and tom. now he’s back home in london, just in time for your sister to host her engagement party.

single all the way by heyhihellowhatsup0

summary: when tom finds out he has to go home for christmas, he decides to formulate plan so he doesn’t have to run into his ex alone. you.

soulmate by spiderboytotherescue

summary: sometimes finding your soulmate doesn’t always happen where you expect it too. and sometimes, you’re just not ready to fall head over heels in love just yet.

sweetener by keepingupwiththeparkers

summary: okay, so maybe lecture hall proximity and roast calibre weren’t the only reasons for your frequent visits to this particular coffee shop. maybe there was a certain brown eyed brunette who worked there, and maybe he always gave you two stamps on your loyalty card instead of one, and maybe you liked watching his back muscles shift under his stupidly tight t-shirt while he pumped sweet vanilla syrup into your cup. maybe.

take me out by angelicholland

summary: you killed people, people who deserved it, but you killed people and that was your reality. killing is a job for one person. add another and it gets messy. things don’t happen by chance, not in your line of work. you held people’s lives in your hands and made the active decision to end them. what happens when you team up with a gorgeous man with a charming british accent to take out a prolific user of a sex trafficking website? but it was not by chance that you fell in love with him, it was the worst decision you could’ve ever made.

the fame game by duskholland

summary: there’s just something about tom holland that makes your blood boil. he walks around like he owns the world, always with an unhelpful quip or irritating smirk on hand. you can’t stand him, and your feud has burned hard and bright for three years. everything changes following an explosive evening at the oscars, when a questionable encounter with the paparazzi lands you in some hot water with PR. the only way to save your shattered public image is to agree to the unthinkable: tom will be your boyfriend, and you will be his girlfriend - and this might just be your hardest performance to date.

the jar series by libertybarnes

summary: tom holland, notorious mob boss, meets a single mother and her bubbly child and has to learn to live life with something to lose.

the king by sadchappuccino

summary: y/n is an angel who fell from heaven, tom is the king of hell. will they put that aside and fall in love?

chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

the missing piece by avengers-sweethearts

summary: when you graduated with an elementary education degree you were lost. you thought you wanted to be a teacher but you weren’t entirely sure if it would make you happy. as you’re in between jobs, you’re lucky enough to stumble upon the opportunity to be a nanny for the very rich and very handsome single father, tom holland. tom is busy running a company and he doesn’t want his daughter ella to be alone or sent to a daycare. things get crazy when you move in with the little family. between some secrets about alla and the undeniable attraction between you and tom you’re not sure what your role is to this family. do you keep it professional or do you risk it all and take the chance of falling for tom? only time will tell if you’re the missing piece.

the situationship by fairytelling

summary: a cup of tea can solve just about any problem. except, it can’t solve your confusing, headache-inducing ‘situationship’ with your university flatmate, tom holland.

to new beginnings by petersshirts

summary: it’s time to settle down and when your best friend asks you to have a child with him, how could you say no?

two lies and a truth by lauras-collection

summary: you wanted a fresh start. and uni seemed like the perfect opportunity. until you bump into tom. he says he’s sorry for everything he’s done to you. but can you trust him?

untitled by marvelbws

summary: suits, smirks, and a major sex appeal.

vlogs by spideyyeet

summary: being in the vlog squad was dope af but having david dobrik run into tom holland and getting him to surprise you was a whole other thing. now let’s see what’s it like to have tom meet the vlog squad and be with the girl that’s making him rethink some decisions.

we’re only kidding ourselves by wazzupmrstark

summary: you work as a production assistant for the spider-man: far from home crew, or rather as tom holland’s handler. the two of you don’t get along very well to say the least, but you won’t quit and he can’t fire you so you’re stuck with each other.

wicked games by captainmarvels

summary: in which tom holland, overwhelmed by his personal demons, seeks comfort in the only ways he knows how; spending money and rough fucking. the hotheaded ceo with major daddy issues can’t seem to get it quite right when it comes to you, but is there hope for his heart?

with love, tom by thollandss

summary: when an envelope addressed to tom makes its way into your mailbox, you realize he has enlisted in the army. your walls begin to crumble down at the idea of him leaving you like this. alone for eight weeks. he makes a promise to you, a promise that every week he is gone, he will send you an update letter... but soon enough, you start to not receive them.

yellow roses by grussell63

summary: tom’s mother has him participate in a bachelor-like dating competition, because she is tired of him sleeping around. furthermore she decides to bring in his best friend to spy on the contestants. is tom going to find the one amongst the 12 candidates or is he just going to play his little games?

chapters: 0 | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | EPILOGUE

#tom holland #tom holland fic #tom holland oneshot #tom holland imagine #tom holland series #tom holland fic rec #masterlists #series masterlist

[jarofstyles]

Dirty Business V- Affogato

A/N: HI!!! sorry for the long wait, we’ve been really busy with life, but we wanted to get some stuff out for you! We’ve taken some of the requests about this series into consideration and tried our best to fit in everything we could. If it’s not in this part, it will likely be in the next! We’re thinking two more parts for them? let us know you’re thoughts! - n + d

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masterlist

pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

warnings: smut, FILTHY dirty talk, rough sex, use of toys  👉🏼👈🏼

word count: 6.8k

Things were going amazingly for the two love birds. 

Harry had been excelling at his job, it seemed everyday Y/N’s father was giving him praises. Y/N had felt secure enough to return her focus on her boutique, expanding the store online and even dabbling in designing some of her own clothes. The anniversary of her father’s company was coming up, the big 50th, and as usual she knew to expect a special event to be planned where all of his most coveted employees, partners, clients, and investors would be invited to attend. Food, drinks, live music, the whole lot. It was the talk of the year. Y/N also knew that this meant that Harry would be meeting her mother far sooner than she had hoped. The pair had been together for about 3 months now, stable and in the groove so it seemed right, but she knew how her mother could be. How unpleasant she was especially when it came to things that Y/N loved doing.

“Babe? you sure this is alright?” Harry called over to her general direction. Y/N had bought him some Gucci suit— well, called up her friend who worked the head and asked for one? Giving them Harry's photo and measurements. It was a black with a silky pattern and he didn’t know much about it other than the designer and he liked it. “I feel like I look expensive. Kind of like a prick.” He smiled. “Love it though.” He had her hands going through his hair before and he missed the feeling. Y/N was much more relaxed with him. Calmer. Soothed. Like a different person and not as anxious or on edge. When they had gone away to Paris it was similar, but here at their home, she was on edge. Especially today. “Oi, my love. Where did you go?” He peeked out to her bedroom from the en suite,  seeing the room empty, before he heard the heels clicking down the hall.

“I’m here, baby! One second!” Y/N came walking back, just having finished slipping on her dress, she just needed to get a few extra things. Accessories for herself and for Harry to complete the look. As promised, she had gotten him a Rolex, a small congratulations for moving up in the company, but also because she felt like he deserved it for being so incredible. A wide smile spread across her face when she saw him, admiring him in the sleek suit that hugged his body just perfectly. “Mmm I think you look perfect.” Y/N cooed, walking closer to him and gently playing with the lapels of his jacket. He had learned well from her, the top buttons of his shirt were unbuttoned only slightly and it definitely gave him that youthful expensive look. Y/N hooked her finger in his necklaces and tugged him closer to her, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips. Thank god for liquid lipstick, not that she cared about him having lipstick stains on his lips. “Give me your wrist. Close your eyes.” She spoke, pecking his lips in between each sentence.

Harry was so lucky. He was reminded every time he saw his woman but— there was that blank in his head that wondered just how the fuck he had been able to resist this woman for so long. She was perfect for him. In all aspects. 

“Hm?” He pouted when she pulled away, her immaculate lipstick that matched her dress perfectly not budging at all. It was amazing. Some feminine magic he didn’t know about. “A surprise?” He raised a brow, not sure what it was. But, the man complied, closing his eyes when he felt a cold metal on his wrist. At first he thought she was being kinky but it wasn’t a handcuff. It was... a bracelet? A watch? Too heavy just for jewelry. When she told him to open, he nearly passed out. A fucking Rolex. The cheapest he had seen being 4 grand. But he knew this one was leaps and bounds more expensive considering the fact it was gold. “Y/N...” Harry breathed, eyes wide. “Baby... What is this?”

“Congratulations, my love.” Y/N cooed, pressing another kiss to his lips. “On the promotion, on making waves... Every businessman deserves a good watch... can tell a lot about a man by his watch. I wanted the best man I know to have the best watch.” She blushed and gave a squeeze to the hand she held. “Do you like it?” She asked sweetly, a bit shy because she knew she went a bit overboard with gifts but she felt like it was the least she could do. Y/N knew that all this money her family had went nowhere and she would rather spend it on him, someone who deserved it, than let it set collecting dust. Y/N knew once he took over the company that he’d be donating all the money he didn’t have use for. “I know you don’t necessarily like me spending lots of money on gifts, but... you’ll have this watch forever and ever and you can pass it down and everything and it will always remind you of your successes and humble beginnings and your hard work.”

“Yeah— I wanted to yell at you for spending so much but I know it’s cause... your heart is there.” He sighed, looking it over. His Y/N. His sweet, lovely, beauty. So generous and thoughtful. Pulling her in, a sweet kiss was given to her lips, repeated a few times. “Thank you. You’re the best.” She was one of the best things, if not the best thing to happen to him. “Trust me. I adore you. And I adore this watch. But if you buy me something ten grand again, I will spank your little ass until it’s bruised.” He brought a hand down for a warning spank and smirked when she squealed. “I love it. Wow.... now. How about we get going?” He smoothed the hair from her face. “Precious girl. You’re so lovely. I can’t wait to show off that you’re mine.” At work he didn’t let her bet too touchy. But outside of work, he had gotten a bit too happy with it!

Y/N was happy to hear that he liked the watch, she would happily take a spanking for spending loads of money on him. He definitely deserved it. It’s a good thing he didn’t know how much all of these clothes cost either. What he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him though. She had her driver come pick the two of them up, thankfully, Oliver was with Niall for tonight so he wouldn’t have to be alone for god knows how long. These things usually dragged on for hours but as long as the two of them made it to at least midnight, they’d be fine. Besides, Y/N was sure she could manage to sneak them away somewhere. 

----

When they arrived at the hotel, Y/N hooked her arm in his and put on her best resting bitch face. Everyone there knew who she was of course, but it was Harry’s first time attending. He looked incredible and she could feel the eyes on him. She couldn’t help but smirk to herself, knowing she had a catch. Harry was perfect. 

“Relax.” Harry kissed her cheek. Oh, how he wished she could be her bubbly and happy self here. “It’s alright. I can feel your nerves from here, my love. I’m here.” He cupped the side of her face with his free hand, kissing her forehead too. It was amazing to see her other persona pop up, incredible even. She was so easy to speak to people with this mask on and fake laughed at things while he observed and talked every so often. He would linger at her side and pull her in, kiss the side of her head or whisper funny things that came to mind. She was slowly relaxing but never enough.

“Styles, my boy!” Y/N’s father’s voice called from behind. “Princess, you look beautiful.” He complimented before turning to look at Harry. “Love seeing you two together.” As much as Y/N wanted to believe he meant that in a genuine way, she knew he really just liked the fact that his favorite employee was dating his daughter, that his legacy and company was in good hands. 

Y/N instantly stiffened up, hating that she didn’t even get a chance to brief or warn Harry about her mother. She knew I’d her father was there she wouldn’t be far behind. Keeping up this illusion that they actually loved one another. The all too familiar clicking of heels coming her way informed her that that moment was coming even sooner than she hoped. Y/N certainly didn’t have a great relationship with her mother and no matter how old she was she still felt her anxiety spike whenever she was around. Be it the comments she made on her life choices or how she looked, she always managed to spoil her mood. 

“Y/N?” Her mother asked with a raised brow, looking between her and Harry with a look of surprise. “Is this your boyfriend your father has been raving about?” She spoke in a tone only Y/N could read as sarcasm. The look on her face gave it away to others though. 

“Yes, he is. Harry, this is my mother. Mother, this is my boyfriend, Harry.”

Harry held her to him. She had tensed up next to him and he felt it as she got upset. She tried not to show it. 

“Nice to meet you, ma’am.” He extended a hand to greet her. He was prepared slightly for the grimace when she took his hand, shaking it weakly. Oh, great. “You’ve raised a lovely young woman. I enjoy her company very much.” He complimented, trying to make this pleasant— but he knew Y/N wasn’t the fondest of her mother and he was prepared for something to go wrong. Anything. He was concerned. 

“Dear, this is Harry. He’s been treating Y/N very well and a very good worker.” Her father tried to soften the blow of what was going to come.

“Charmed.” Her mother answered in her usual snobby tone. The woman was never impressed by anyone or anything really. No amount of money could buy this woman happiness or passion. She was bitter. For what reason? No one was sure. “Just how well can he treat her if she bought everything he’s wearing?” Her mother countered, very much able to sniff out her daughter's sense of fashion. She was aware that her husband never hired anyone with money, no, people with money always had motives. He always hired potential. 

The comment made Y/N’s blood boil. She felt like she was seeing red. Y/N finally felt like she had a positive influence on her life, felt like someone was making her into a better version of herself and her mother had to step in and invalidate it. 

“He treats me so well that I struggle to walk most days...you must have forgotten how that feels, yeah?” The words flew out of her mouth before she could even think. She just needed to get something out even if it wasn’t the most appropriate thing to say to her mother. Then again, she wouldn’t take disrespect from anyone.

Harry closed his eyes at her comment. Jesus Christ, Y/N. He wasn’t taking her mother’s comments seriously but she had blurted out a very obvious innuendo about the fact Harry fucked her so good she was wobbly, the first time meeting her mother. 

“Baby...” He chuckled, squeezing her sides. “Is money more important than how your daughter is treated, ma’am?” He said it a bit loudly, knowing her husband was looking more amused than anything. He wouldn’t get in trouble for this. “While I’m saving money for our future and showering her in more affection and love then anyone else with a hundred million in their bank accounts ever would, I am happy. I think your daughter is very happy with me. She buys me things and I buy her things. Our relationship isn’t transactional, ma’am. It never will be either.”

The older woman looked them both up and down, taking a sip of her champagne and letting out a sigh. “It’s not about the money, it’s about our reputation...” She answered and let out a sigh. “Then again, she’s never been good at making choices that represent our family well.” She rolled her eyes. 

Y/N didn’t even have a chance to say a word before her father moved his arm in between the two. “It was actually my idea, dear... Harry is the closest thing to a son I have and he will be the next in line when I step down... regardless if he is with our daughter or not.” He stated calmly, “Please, do not bring this nonsense into tonight’s celebration.” 

Y/N was left speechless at her father’s statement. The entire interaction further proved her beliefs that she wasn’t really an important member of the family. She was merely there. Her father so calmly defended Harry, said he’d have the job regardless of Y/N being in the picture or not. It was like a shot to her stomach. 

“Well what a shame that is.” Her mother sighed, looking around the room to find someone else to talk to before excusing herself and leaving the group all together.

“Excuse us, sir.” Harry gently took Y/N’s arm and led her out to the back patio, knowing she felt upset. He could just... feel it. The energy of the room wasn’t helping her and the fact people had been looking. Weaving through people, he gave professional smiles with little nods before he got to the doors, taking notice of some of the people out there and walking towards the empty side. It was a time that he knew her well enough to know she needed some alone time to recharge. Most of all, she needed a hug. 

Y/N was stunned, her face stone cold as the two of them walked out onto the balcony for some fresh air. She couldn’t bring herself to cry about her parents again, couldn’t bring herself to cry in front of all these people. It was just a kick to the stomach really, the one this she had been prepared for but was hoping to avoid. 

Harry gripped her waist and held the back of her head to his chest, sighing when he felt her rest herself against him. His back was taking the blow so no one could see her being vulnerable. 

“My baby.” He soothed, petting her hair. “You alright? Not the best interaction hm?” Her hair smelled so good and he focused solely on her, not focusing on any possible business opportunities. She was his priority. “I’m sorry I got loud with her. I didn’t mean to but I don’t want her to speak about our relationship like that.” Harry muttered. “I won’t let people disrespect you or us like that.”

“‘s not your fault, Harry...” Y/N spoke softly, “no need to apologize, you did everything right.” Y/N added and allowed herself to close her eyes and relax into him. “I didn’t want you to meet her...” She said in a quiet whisper, “She has a way of getting into your head… I didn’t want her to... to make you feel like I wasn’t proud of you or that I’m not proud to show you off...” Y/N didn’t really care what her mother said at this point, she knew she was wrong. It was the way her father defended Harry first that really made her upset. “Do you believe me now?” She asked quietly, pulling back to look at him with worry in her eyes. Y/N had told him about how her parents didn’t care about her as long as they had their money and reputation.

“Baby...” Harry’s heart broke. “I’ve believed you since you told me. I always believed you. I don’t know how they could feel that way but...” He smoothed his thumb over her face. “My darling girl. You always have me on your side.” It was nearly impossible for him to comprehend why either of them cared so much more about money and reputation than they did about the happiness and well being of their daughter but he wouldn’t stand for it. He wouldn’t ever let anyone make any children of his feel that way. “She isn’t going to get into my head at all. I’m happy with you. I know who I am. You’ve made me feel so much more secure in that. Not the job, but just how it is. We need each other.” He pressed a kiss to her nose. “You’re what I want to have and who I want to be with. No one can convince me otherwise. I want you. You’re my sweet girl. My angel. My baby. Yeah? No matter what shit she says or tries, I’m not going anywhere. She can’t change my mind.” Thumbs rubbed soothing circles into the girls skin, Harry’s eyes soft. “She’s probably going to have very, very limited time with our children though. Even supervised.”

Our children. 

Y/N felt her heart flutter. Harry had said it to her before, sure, but to hear him say it so confidently again and to know he was thinking about it? Well, it just made everything feel better. Restored her confidence though it hadn’t faltered much like it usually did. 

“Funny how you think she’s even going to get to meet our children.” Y/N mumbled, looking up at him with her brows furrowed and nose scrunched. It wasn’t nearly as intimidating as she thought it was but his fond little laugh was worth the attempt. “I love you.” She told him again, her voice gentle and sweet. Y/N had saved saying it for moments like these and though he still hadn’t said it back to her, she didn’t mind the wait. “So much.” Harry was truly her rock. Had he not been here, had he not been the way he was, Y/N would have reacted much differently and would likely be making a scene. She had gotten so much better. “But the company is yours regardless... you heard it straight from the horse's mouth.” Y/N said to him with a small smile, “How does that make you feel?” She asked and moved her hands up to play with the unbuttoned portion of his shirt.

“I love you even more, my sweet girl.” Harry pulled her in for a few sweetened kisses to make her smile a bit more than she had. He did love her, the girl was so lovely. He would risk it all for her, every bit. “It feels nice that the company is mine, but I’d choose you before I chose it.” That's the truth. For a long time at the beginning he was trying to focus on that but she had brought him so much happiness, so much self love for himself and he was head over heels for the woman. 

“You love me?” She asked, needing to pause for a moment to make sure she heard him right. Y/N was over the moon. Sure, they might have had a very unpleasant conversation with her mother, but that didn’t change how Harry felt about her. That was all the support and love she needed. Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned up to press a sweet, passionate kiss against his lips. For years she was convinced she needed to be someone else to be loved, for a few months she thought maybe she needed to be someone else for Harry to love her. That wasn’t true at all. He loved her. And she loved him. 

“Yes. I love you very much. Do you want to go home, my lovely? Can drink some champagne on the car ride back and go back. Cuddle a bit....” Harry knew that champagne made her frisky. Harry mainly wanted to get her out of the same place as her mother and wanted to be selfish with his time with her.

“You sure you don’t want to stay?” Y/N asked sweetly, “Just for a little longer.. we just got here. Go mingle a bit, I’ll behave. I promise I’m fine.” Y/N cooed, pushing a few pieces of hair away from his eyes. “Lets go inside yeah? We’ll stay for a little and then we can go back..”

“But... what if I want to go home?” Harry murmured, cupping her cheek again so he could kiss her again. Not having gotten enough beforehand. He wanted to kiss. And kiss, and kiss, and then spread her open and fuck. He had so much love for this woman right now. It was growing every day but he was hit hard with it. “Just want to be alone with you and remind you how much I utterly adore you and your every bit.” He nibbled her bottom lip lovingly, pulling back. Their sex life was erratic. Some weeks just having cuddles but others being full on fuck fests. Right now, he wanted an even mix. “C’mon. Want to be close to you.” He slid a hand down her body to rest on her ass. “You’ll give me that, yeah?” 

Oh. 

Harry wasn’t usually this forward, it was often Y/N who wanted to love up on him and have him completely and utterly ruin her. Not Harry who was pleading for them to leave an event that could be important for work. Oh how the tables have turned. This was a welcomed change though. 

“Is that so?” Y/N murmured truly surprised by the way he was acting, but she was going along with it. She wanted to see what could come of tonight. “Of course I’ll give that to you, baby, I’m just—” She bit her lip when his hand squeezed her ass tighter. “Okay, alright!” Y/N giggled, leaning up to press another kiss to his lips. “Let’s go.” She decided they’d slip away unnoticed. No one would really look for them. The cars were already waiting out front and Y/N made sure she snatched a bottle of champagne for them to take in the car with them.

Harry felt like the kitten who had gotten the cream— even though he hadn’t quite yet. He had gotten her to leave, was touchy and finally got her in the car where they finished the bottle of champagne quickly. He pulled her closer to him, feeling like a needy puppy with the way he nuzzled at her neck. A hand slid up the slit of her dress and touched the softness of her inner thighs, purring at the heat of them. 

“Haven’t told you how much I love this dress.” He muttered against her neck. “S’so lovely. But I want to get you out of it.” He was only slightly buzzed but he felt even more in love right now. “Want to see somethin’ like this on you when you’re pregnant. Mmm— fuck, that’ll look so gorgeous. Can’t wait for that.” He had a bit of him that hadn’t realized how much he had a bit of a breeding kink until she showed up. The idea of filling her and letting the cum catch in her, claiming her in that most primal way? It was godly. “When are you gonna let me, pet?”

Y/N was definitely feeling the champagne because his comment caught her off guard for a moment. She remembered when he first told her about this kink of his, how he wanted to put a baby in her and just... pretend that that was the goal. How he had a thing for knowing he could get her pregnant. She had been on birth control for a while and they’d been having sex without protection for a while. There was really nothing to fear. All she had to do was give in, let that primal instinct take over and let him live this fantasy that quite frankly, turned her on. The way he wanted to be a father of her child, the way he wanted to see her stomach swell with life. It was hot. 

“Wanna put a baby in me?” Her glossy eyes looked at him, a loopy smile on her face as his fingers pressed against her skin.

“Mmmm. Yeah, so bad.” Harry rubbed his face against her. “Sooo fuckin’ bad, bunny. Just want to stuff you up full, over n’ over again and make you hold it in. Even tho’ it looks so pretty drippin’ out. Love cleaning it with my tongue but I want it to catch.” He sighed. He thinks perhaps it’s a mix of the alcohol buzz and the way he felt like maybe she truly needed to see his desire for him that set him free. He really wanted her to be able to see that he was so into her, he never wanted to leave. Ever. Add in the fact she just made him unbelievably horny. “Wanna get it all stuffed in that little tummy of yours, yeah? Just... wreck you n’ make you cry from his good it is, then keep fillin’ you up.” He muttered. “Jus’ wanna get inside cause I’m so hard. Want to fuck. Get back inside my pussy.” He always referred to her cunt as his own, and he knew she liked it even if she didn’t tell him that.

“Daddy..” A whimper left Y/N’s mouth at his words, her whole body heating up with a sudden burning desire to be at her home and in a car with the partition up. Goosebumps spread across her skin as he continued to speak, lips brushing against her sensitive neck making her squirm. Between the alcohol and hormones, she wasn’t sure how much longer she could take it. She dared to look out the window, seeing that they were only a few blocks away from her place. Thank god they weren’t driving all the way to Brooklyn, she would’ve had him fuck her right in this car. Y/N moved her hand to rub over his hard cock, giving it a slight squeeze. “What’s gotten into you, daddy?” Y/N smirked, her voice coming out much darker. “We’re almost there... then you can take me upstairs and do whatever you want. Anything.” She hummed, knowing that whenever they were in this mood something kinky always went down.

“Haven’t been in you in too long. I’m so... I want it.” Harry grunted against her neck. “Jus’ wanna be inside of you. You’re all hot and slick. I know it.” He moved his hand up and startled her, groaning against her skin as he felt his suspicions become reality. “Mmm— Yep. Knew you’d be wet for me.” He smirked to himself, placing his fingers on her pussy. He didn’t move them yet but kept hold of it. “S’all mine. Let me touch it whenever I want to just do this. Want to make you go crazy with how good it feels.” He muttered, kissing her jaw and finding her ear to talk into. The vibrations of his dark voice tingling against her, making her shudder. “Daddy’s hot little cunt. And you’re such an eager slut for it. Already slick for my cock. Gonna have a hard time keeping still when I lick your pussy up and get you cleaned up. Plus... have a bit of dessert.” He felt her shiver as he pressed his finger tighter against her.

Y/N inhaled sharply, feeling his fingers press against the place she needed him most. It had in fact been a while, a few days. It’s not long by most people’s standards, but for them? It had definitely been a while. 

“Fuck, please—“ Y/N bit down on her lip as the car had come to a haunt. “Thank you!” She called today the driver, hesitantly pushing Harry to get out of the car as she followed with the empty bottle of champagne. Y/N threw it out in the trash can in the lobby, hoping her dress still sat correctly on her body after Harry had a proper feel in the car. Seeing him all drunk and disheveled, nice suit and hair a mess was the hottest fucking thing she’d ever seen. She swore it. Seeing that loopy smile and his hungry eyes on her was making her forget why they even went out in the first place. Y/N stumbled into the elevator with him and hit the button for the top floor, looking at him from over her shoulder. “What?” She giggled.

Harry grabbed her and pressed her front against the wall of the elevator, ankle hooking hers and knocking her legs open. Immediately his fingers found her cunt, sinking two inside of her. The shocked gasp and moan mix make him smirk, fingers moving in and out of her pussy. 

“Couldn’t wait to feel it. Missed my pussy so fucking much.” He smeared his mouth over her jaw biting down gently. “Fucks sake, sometimes I think you forget that it belongs to me. S’daddy’s pussy. Think you need a proper reminder of that today.” He bit down on her ear this time, moving his fingers harder into her pussy, the slick little squelch of his fingers filling the enclosed space. She was squirming in his arms and making these noises— fuck. “Keep making those little mewls. Such a dirty kitten. Letting your daddy finger fuck you in the elevator.”

It was all so sudden. Y/N really thought he’d at least wait till they got inside, but before she knew it she was pressed up against the cool wall of the elevator, her heart racing. Harry really wasn’t playing tonight and Y/N surely wouldn’t underestimate him again. 

“Fuck me— daddy, ah!” She whimpered out, cunt clenching against his fingers while they moved inside her. Her head fell back on to his shoulder, the feeling of him biting at her jaw and smearing kisses against her skin sending her wildest thoughts over the edge. “‘S your pussy daddy! Fuck— yours, all yours!” She pleaded, feeling herself shiver at the sound of her own slickness against his hands. Y/N had never been quiet and Harry was well aware of that, hitting all the right spots inside of her that would make her go crazy for him. “Please— please!” She begged, “feels so good! Don’t stop!” Y/N begged, knowing she could easily cum just from how insanely turned on she was.

Harry didn’t hesitate to make her cum. She came all over his hand in the elevator, a devilish grin on his face as he pressed his fingers in and curled them just so, having her drip all over the digits. He truly felt like he was going feral because he really couldn’t wait. He loved his Y/N so much, he felt the tiny bit of buzz hitting him and all he wanted to do was fuck. Show her how much he meant it every time he promised forever. How he cherished her pleasures. He had swiftly picked her up and thrown her over her shoulder when they’d gotten to her penthouse. Carrying her through the whole place to her bedroom with a dirty hand he had sucked clean and a squealing Y/N over his shoulder, he finally got to her bedroom. 

“You’re going to be a good girl for me. Aren’t you?” Harry smirked while Y/N looked up with her innocent eyes and nodded, seeming to be in awe of his behavior. Harry hadn’t exactly gone this primal before but she was wet as fuck and he was as happy as could be. Taking his tie off, he smirked down at her and held it in front of him. “Wrists.” He demanded. At the rapid blinking, he gripped her throat, leaning down over her. “Don’t make me ask for them again. Give me your wrists.” It was quickly after that, she was stripped and they were tied and held to the headboard. Naked and all at his mercy, Harry stalked the end of the bed with a dark gleam in his eye. “Look so pretty, my sweet girl. Innocent, if it wasn’t for your drippy little cunt making a mess of those expensive sheets.... Said they were silk, didn’t you?” He chuckled, unbuttoning his shirt. “Where are the toys?” At a drunken 2 am they’d ordered sex toys one night and a little toy chest she had gotten for them, and he wanted to play with them. 

“Daddy!” Y/N whined, but the sharp glare he sent in return immediately sent darts of hot arousal and a bit of fear through her. “Closet....”  the whisper was given as she clenched her thighs together. Harry brought the chest out and hummed as he looked through things, happily finding what he was looking for. 

“Ah!” 

When Harry took out the wand vibrator, it had her heart racing faster. She hadn’t ever used one with someone else before. Usually she could control when she took it away and just how much she could handle at a time, but with the way Harry was acting... Y/N knew that he wasn’t going to be nice about it. 

“Daddy... please, I just want you inside.” Y/N tried, not sure she could handle all that pleasure. 

“Hm. It’s a shame I didn’t ask, isn’t it?” Harry knew that she would be okay with this, because he had gently asked her colors and she had genuinely responded green. He knew her well enough and had permission beforehand. They’d spoken about this being something they did anyways. “Now. I can see you’re all slicked up. Already came once tonight so I’ll be nice and make sure this one is even better.” He cooed, leaning down over it and spitting right on it. The flinch had him grinning, Y/N moaning and bucking her hips at the sensation of it. 

As soon as the vibrator was clicked on, Y/N knew she was in trouble. Still sensitive from the knee weakening orgasm from the elevator, the buzzing had her legs stiffening. 

“Oi.... keep them open.” Harry scolded. “Daddy’s been so nice to you. So sweet. And now you’re out and trying to take away my fun?” He gave a faux pout, but his voice was thick with arousal. 

“I forgot about how much of a slut you are sometimes. Been so gentle with you lately but you really have been wanting a bit of fun.” He murmured, clicking up the setting. 

Y/N was laying with her mouth open, breasts heaving with the way Harry moved the wand up and down. The powerful vibrations had her shaking a tiny bit and she knew she wouldn’t last long. Another pitiful whine of his name had her getting a bit more pressure over her clit. 

“Shhh. That’s my girl. Daddy’s dirty whore, hm? Can’t get enough.” 

Her hips were bucking up and the heat coursing through her was intense. Harry’s behavior well was fueling this intense arousal. He was all man. All.... perfect for her. She loved being admired and needed and even a little bit degraded when it came down to it, and he was giving it to her. 

“Fuck... look at you. Dripping down to your sheets and panting like a bitch in heat. All you want is cock inside your precious cunt, isn’t that right?” 

“Yes! Daddy, please. I’ll be so good. So, so good just... inside me!” Y/N pleaded, bucking her hips needily. Harry was so good to her. More generous than any other lover. More caring and loving in general but in bed, it was a whole other level. 

“Begging... sounds so good coming from you.” Harry muttered, pressing the setting up as he leaned over her. “One more orgasm before you can take me. I know you love being filled up. Pounded. Like when your makeup gets all messy and smeared because you’re so fucked out you can’t breathe. I know that you want to be so sore in the morning that it’ll be obvious that you have the best cock in your bed.” Harry has also shown off his possessive side lately. Been increasingly so. “Want everyone to know and to see that you’re well taken care of. Daddy’s princess.” He muttered, watching her face. 

Y/N was losing it. Her stomach was hot with heat and she kept bucking her hips and grinding into the wand Harry held firm against her cunt, playing with her breasts with gentle movements of his fingers. Two types of sensations. 

“That’s it. I can see it.” Harry encouraged, it was obvious when she was close. “Be a good girl. Cum.” 

At the demand, Y/N lost it. Shaking, she let out a gasped sob as her body writhed against the sheets, a squeal of his name and holding on to the tie holding her wrists to the board, her back arched and her whole body trembled in the best way possible. She didn’t even know what was happening as she felt her wrists get let go of, flopping to the bed. All she felt was herself being turned over to her stomach, propped her hips up with a pillow and then— fuck. 

Harry filled her. A loud moan came from him, a pathetic whimper. Harry’s hand gathering her hair up and holding it firmly, cock buried deep inside of her for a moment before he began to go. There was no mercy with his thrusts. Hard, bed shaking, dirty. Leaning his body over her, speaking into her ear. 

“That's it. This is what you were made for.” He muttered into her skin. “Made to be fucked by me. Act so spoiled all the time but no one knows... you come home, my sweet little angel. Want to be so sweet to me and then a needy little bitch in bed.” He cooed, hands slipping between them. He wasn’t going to last very long. “Had me all worked up all night with that sexy fucking dress, your pouty lips. I love it so much. My pretty girl. I love showing you off. I want to do it more.” He grunted as he pressed her further into the bed. “Mine. You’re all fucking mine. This pussy belongs to me. I want every fucking person to know that I’m yours. That you are mine. No one else gets to take you. I’m keeping you forever.” He wasn’t even hesitant to say that. He loved her. His woman was the only one for him. “Mine. Fuck... I’m gonna cum soon. You got me all worked. Fuck, I needed this pussy so bad. Needed you.” He groaned into her ear as he ran sloppy circles across her clit. 

Y/N was more than happy to take it, whining loudly as she felt him take every bit of his cock and slam it in. Truly, she felt cock drunk, eyes crossed and mouth unable to close. She was so sensitive and needy, but she had let go completely in his hold. It felt like shocks every time he pounded into her and the stream of whimpers and little noises was loud but pitiful. She needed this so bad. To be fucked out by him.

“Daddy! Daddy! Plea-” Her whines got caught in her throat as his hand grabbed at her hair and pulled her back. 

“Yeah? Begging to cum again like the good little cum slut?” Harry practically growled, “Squeeze for me, yeah… that’s it… fuck, you’re so good, so perfect.” He knew he wouldn’t last long. Her cunt felt like heaven. Nothing had ever felt better. With every thrust Harry felt like he was struggling to hold back his full power, essentially shoving his cock as deep as he could manage. Y/N’s sweet sounds of pleasure only edged him on, his own grunts and mutters begging her to cum for him so they could share a sweet release. 

And my god was it sweet. A series of throaty moans left the both of them, nothing but the added sound of skin slapping against skin and the slickness of their climaxes filled the room. Harry slowed the pace of his moving hips and stayed hovering above his love whilst they caught their breath. 

“You mean everything to me, you know that? Nobody, and I mean nobody will change that. You’re mine, Y/N. I love you.” Harry meant it with every fiber of his being.

He was going to marry this girl.

------------------------------------------------------

A/N: hehehe fore-shadowing? 😈- n + d

let us know what you think!

masterlist

#writing #Harry Styles #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry angst #harry writing #CEO!Harry #harry styles one shot #jarofstyles

[plasticnightmaredoll]

I’m still working on the NSFW Alphabet for Enigma/Edward Nashton/Riddler-Before-He-Was-Riddler from “Arkham Origins,” and it’s going to take some time because of my work schedule being the PITA that it is...

However, I do have some snippets of an Arkham Knight!Riddler x female!Reader fic I’ve been working on here and there over the last few weeks. 

Now, these are not beta-read, so there may be some mistakes, and some things might change or be added or rearranged, etc. when I do get around to proof-reading the complete fic, but the basic idea of each snippet won’t change from here on to the finished product. 

The general concept behind this fic is what would it take for AK!Riddler to, well, get his shit together? We all know how he started out as a snack -- or more accurately, a damn MEAL:

then became a...well, a hot mess (still adorable, though):

Possibly having someone in his life who actually appreciates him and shows him some affection could get him to clean himself up? Because we all know this boy is most likely touch-starved and would probably cry if someone was actually sweet to him, and he’d probably do whatever he could to be as presentable as possible to keep them around -- anything to keep them from vanishing from his life and leaving him all alone and unwanted again.

Anyway, here are the three (non-beta’d!) snippets from the fic:

Snippet 1:

Initially, Edward told himself it was for his own good. He was Gotham’s one true genius so why shouldn’t he take better care of himself? Cloning was not possible, nor was there any way to transfer the human consciousness into a machine. All of this meant there was only ONE Edward Nigma, and he deserved to look and feel his absolute best. 

Besides, he thought it was yet another way to one-up anyone who opposed him. Yes, of course he could look just as put together as anyone else -- or better. He was superior in every possible way after all.

It had all started with a comment from Selina as she was leaving to take care of the job Edward had assigned to her.

“You know, Eddie,” she said, turning to look at him over her shoulder. “Ladies like men who don’t smell like a car repair shop.”

With that, she was gone and Edward was, at first, not even registering what she had said to him. But it did creep into his thoughts faster than he would have liked, and he analyzed every piece of it. Why would Selina say such a thing? Then again, most people said pointless -- or more accurately, stupid -- things. Normally, he would have disregarded and forgot about it as he went about his work, but it nagged at him like a mathematical equation without a proper solution.

Taking a break from working on some new Riddlerbots, Edward went to the bathroom to locate anything he had on hand to take care of the headache he was currently dealing with. He found a bottle of Aspirin in the medicine cabinet, but when he closed the door, he stared at his reflection for a moment (When was the last time he’d given himself a proper glance in a mirror?)

As Edward took the Aspirin, he remembered Y/N was coming to see him that day -- soon, actually. Perhaps a shower would be a good idea? She would probably appreciate it if he didn’t smell like a car repair shop. And he probably would feel better being clean. Could help him think a little more clearly.

As he showered, Edward told himself this was primarily for his benefit and he wasn’t trying to impress Y/N -- or anyone for that matter. Deep down, though, he knew this was part of something he didn’t quite understand, something dealing with Y/N, something he hadn’t experienced before. That part of him was too afraid at that time to come forth and propose an answer to this dilemma. This was unfamiliar territory, something that wasn’t logical or scientific but emotional and...no, that “strange” part of him needed to stay quiet if he wanted to keep his thoughts together.

This was nothing. Nothing was going on. Everything was normal. And no, Edward didn’t feel relieved when Y/N complimented him on his appearance upon arriving. Taking a shower and putting on nice, clean clothes had nothing to do with gaining her approval. He did it for himself, to give himself a “refresh” before getting back to work. He wasn’t aiming to please or impress anyone, remember? Not even Y/N.

Especially not Y/N.

Or so he thought.

Snippet 2:

Something was different when Edward put someone else before anything of his, namely his work. Had it been anyone else, he’d have tossed a bunch of insults and told them never to bother helping him again. 

However, with Y/N, it was completely different -- and he didn’t even realize it at first.

She was carrying a box of mechanical parts to bring to Edward to aid in constructing new robots, and he had warned her to be careful, to not overload the box or it would be too heavy for her. While carrying the box of gears, wires, and metal bits, she tripped over her own feet and fell forward. The box toppled over onto the floor, spilling the contents everywhere, and she collapsed on her left forearm and knee.

“I told you to be careful!” Edward growled as he rushed over.

“I’m sorry!” Y/N said, pushing herself up and looking at the mess. “I don’t think I broke anything--”

“Let me be the judge of that.”

Y/N fully expected Edward to examine the scattered parts to see if they had sustained any damage but he went right by them. Kneeling down beside her, he gently took her left arm and briefly studied the scratched skin. 

“I don’t think it’s broken,” Edward said as he carefully felt her forearm and elbow. “And your knee….”

“I think it’s ok,” Y/N said as she moved to sit. “It hurts, though.”

Edward placard his hands on Y/N’s left knee, feeling around and noting how she winced several times. 

“Not broken,” he said. “But most certainly will be sore and bruised for a while. Here…let’s get you up.”

Edward let Y/N put an arm around him to steady her as he helped her to stand. Of course, her left knee ached far too much for her to walk on her own, so he continued to guide her to the bathroom.

“I’m sorry about the stuff,” Y/N said, looking and sounding as guilty as she felt.

“Don’t worry about it,” Edward said absent-mindedly as he located some clean bandages and antiseptic cream. “Most of it probably won’t even be needed for what I’m doing now, and I can always acquire more. In fact...I have more in storage.”

Edward turned on the faucet and tested the water until it was comfortably warm, then he gingerly took Y/N’s left arm and began cleaning it with soap. It stung a little but she tolerated it, studying his highly focused expression and wondering if this was even happening? He truly wasn’t upset that she dropped the box of bits and pieces? She just couldn’t wrap her head around it, and doubted that anyone would believe her without proof.

Edward dried Y/N’s arm with a clean towel before tossing it in the trash. After applying some antiseptic cream to a strip of bandage, he proceeded to wrap it around her arm, covering the wound. 

“There…” Edward said, admiring his handiwork. “How does that feel?

“Good,” Y/N said.

“Now for your, uh, knee.” Edward swallowed, his cheeks turning a light shade of pink. “It...doesn’t appear to be bleeding so...I think we can just put, um, ice on it. Unless you think it needs to be looked at?”

“No, I think it’s fine. Ice is fine. Thank you.”

Edward nodded before clearing his throat and reaching out to Y/N.

“Come,” he said. “Let me help you to the couch.”

Snippet 3:

“Ok, who are you and what did you do with Eddie?” asked Selina as she looked Edward over incredulously.

It appeared that Edward finally got his shit together and was taking care of himself. Not only was he free of grime and grease, he was dressed in rather impressive attire: black dress shirt, green gloves, green trousers, and dark brown boots. Even his hair was cut and styled differently as it was shorter with subtle layering, the offset part causing bangs to fall over most of his forehead and just above his brows. 

Another noteworthy change was Edward’s weight. Instead of surviving on snacks and coffee, he must have been eating actual food again as he was no longer skin and bones. Actually, he looked a little bit...toned? Was he back to his old routine of perfectly planned, ultra-healthy, balanced meals coupled with a decent amount of exercise? Selina remembered he used to get up early in the and exercise almost right away most days of the week. It helped him “get focused” before even having coffee, he had said.

“What are you going on about?” Edward asked in an agitated tone. “Nevermind. It’s nonsense anyway.”

“Personality is still the same,” Selina muttered as she followed Edward to a workbench.

Once he was done explaining in excessive, almost condescending detail the particulars of the items she needed to steal for him, she decided to ask some questions.

“So, tell me, Eddie,” Selina began, turning to him. “What inspired you to finally start looking like a professional criminal mastermind as opposed to an overworked grease monkey?”

“Not that it’s any of your business,” Edward said, before clearing his throat and straightening, a smug smile on his face. “I came to the long overdue conclusion that, as Gotham’s one true genius and Batman’s superior, I should look after myself and be presentable. What’s on the outside should reflect what’s going on inside, so to speak. I mean, what a waste of a brilliant mind such as mine to live in a body akin to a starving, filthy rat scurrying about in the sewers?”

“So you are basically telling me you did this for yourself,” Selina said resisting the urge to roll her eyes at Edward’s narcissistic ramblings. “Are you sure you didn’t do this for any other reason?”

“Like what?” Edward asked, clearly puzzled by such a question.

“Hmm...well, let me ask this: Has Y/N seen your ‘transformed’ self?”

Selina noted how Edward’s blue eyes lit up upon hearing Y/N’s name, and suddenly, his obnoxious personality changed to a much more amiable one.

“She likes it,” Edward said with a bright smile. “Her compliments about my appearance go hand in hand with her compliments about my genius. It’s wonderful having someone around who actually appreciates my existence.”

“I take it that her approval means a lot to you then?”

“Of course! Considering she’s the only person who treats me with respect, I think she deserves the privilege of having me listen to, accept, and sometimes take her advice.”

Selina smirked as she had received the answer to her question.

“Well then, I must be going, Eddie,” she said as she turned to leave. “I’ll get you what you requested in no time.”

“Yes, please do,” Edward said sternly, going back to his arrogant tone. “My request should be of the utmost importance compared to whoever else you’re working with at the moment.”

“Yes, yes, Eddie, of course. Bye!”

#edward nigma #riddler #riddler x reader #edward nigma x reader #riddler x female reader #edward nigma x female reader #the riddler #edward nygma #arkham riddler #arkham knight riddler