#it's my first ever time doing something like that so he is tiny

[dreamscapeee222]

Hello! Hope your having a good day or even :)

I had an idea for the arcane reacting to finding out the reader has prosthetics (maybe like a ball jointed doll). For the reason that the reader often overs their hands in gloves and normally wears long pants so no one really knew. How did the arcane react to finding out and how?

Thanks if you do take my request! And take your time :)

A/n: This is such a unique idea. Here's how I imagine that ^^

You have prosthetics

Vi, Jinx, Caitlyn, Ekko, Jayce, Viktor, Mel

Masterlist

Vi

Vi would be the type to stumble across the truth by accident—maybe during a sparring match or when you’re adjusting something on your prosthetics. She’d freeze for a moment, her brows furrowing in concern.

"Why didn’t you tell me?" she’d ask, her tone not accusatory but genuinely confused. When you explain it wasn’t something you wanted to share openly, she’d nod, understanding immediately. From then on, she’s fiercely protective of you, often cracking jokes to make you feel comfortable. "Hey, at least you won’t get cold feet, right?" But the softness in her eyes when she sees you adjusting your gloves says everything about how much she admires your strength.

Jinx

Jinx would probably notice something was off way before anyone else. Maybe she’d catch a glimpse of your hands moving in a way that didn’t feel "natural." When she finally discovers the truth, she’d be thrilled—"Oh, my gosh! You’re like a walking art piece!"

Jinx would constantly ask if she could decorate your prosthetics, pulling out paints, stickers, or gadgets she made herself. "C’mon, just one teeny tiny bomb launcher in your arm? Pleeease?" But underneath the playful exterior, she’d be deeply respectful of your boundaries and quick to stand up to anyone who dared make a comment about your prosthetics.

Caitlyn

Caitlyn would notice small hints—a clicking sound, the way your movements were precise but deliberate—but would never press you on it. When she does find out, likely through you opening up to her, she’d be calm and measured.

"Thank you for trusting me," she’d say sincerely. Caitlyn would want to learn everything about your prosthetics—how they work, how they’re maintained, and if you need any support. She’d quietly ensure you have access to any resources or help you need, even going so far as to consult mechanics or tinkerers on your behalf without ever overstepping your boundaries.

Ekko

Ekko would probably find out during a repair session or a mission gone wrong. His reaction would be pure curiosity and awe.

"Wait, hold up—this is so cool," he’d say, crouching down to inspect your prosthetics (with your permission). "Did you build these? Who helped you? Can I?" He’d be deeply respectful of your privacy but would eagerly want to help upgrade or maintain your prosthetics if you’re okay with it. Ekko would see your prosthetics as a testament to your resilience and resourcefulness, often bringing it up when someone underestimates you: "They’ve literally rebuilt themselves. What’ve you done lately?"

Jayce

Jayce would probably find out when you were in a situation where your prosthetics needed repairs. He’d jump in to help, his mind immediately going into engineer mode.

"Why didn’t you tell me about this earlier? I could’ve helped you fine-tune these!" he’d say, clearly excited about the tech aspect. Jayce would want to involve you in the process, asking for your input and being genuinely respectful of your preferences. He’d also be the first to defend you if anyone made insensitive remarks, using his voice and status to shut them down instantly.

Viktor

Viktor would notice right away, his keen eye picking up on the small details you thought you were hiding. He wouldn’t say anything until you were ready to tell him, though. When you do, he’d be remarkably calm and empathetic.

"I understand what it’s like to live with… modifications," he’d say softly, gesturing to his own cane or leg brace. Viktor would admire your prosthetics for their functionality and beauty, offering subtle suggestions for improvements if you were open to it. He’d be the one to remind you that your prosthetics don’t define you but are instead a symbol of your strength.

Mel

Mel would approach the revelation with grace and tact. If she noticed something odd beforehand, she wouldn’t press you about it, waiting until you were comfortable enough to share. When you finally reveal your prosthetics, she’d offer you a warm, understanding smile.

"You’ve been carrying this secret all on your own," she’d say, her voice gentle but firm. "You don’t need to hide from me." Mel would never let anyone else treat you differently because of your prosthetics and would praise your strength and elegance often. She might even commission custom pieces to adorn your prosthetics if you were comfortable with it, seeing them as a unique extension of your beauty.

See pinned.

[mydarlingclaudia]

every word I meant to say

note : ermmmm hi. don't ask where I went for like almost a month work is eating me alive and I was sad. this was inspired by that the unsent project thing andddd idk if I really like this it's def ooc but I was thinking about it again today and this has been in my drafts since September so I figured why not

wc : 2.1k

tags : @luvrgreyy @clitorphosis @sonya-semyonova

desc : letters that went unsent. kind of unrequited love, angst (???), more Leon focused, re2r!Leon - DI!Leon, fem!reader, ooc, not proofread

"I meant to write sooner, I really did. I know it's been a year, my life is so different now, I don't think you'd even believe me if I tried to explain it. I hope you're doing better than I am, I'm happy you weren't able to move to the city with me."

Leon hasn't written a letter since, what, his first few years in the academy? Maybe the end of his senior year of high school? He can't really remember, but he knows that this letter is important because it's to you, his friend he hasn't seen since the night he left for Raccoon City. This isn't even an actual letter, he's scribbling out what he thinks might be good excuses as to why he hasn't talked to you in a year on the back of pieces of scrap paper he took from the office.

He's supposed to be asleep right now, same as everyone else in boot camp, but it's been a year since Raccoon City and he's wondering if you ever tried to reach him. Maybe you tried to go to Raccoon City to look for him, only to see the pile of rubble that stood in its place, sectioned off by the government. Maybe you thought he was dead, he wouldn't blame you.

You and Leon had stuck together all throughout high school, even managed to stay friends when he went off to the police academy and you moved a few hours away for college. He doesn't even know if your address is still the same, he really hopes it is, there's no phone-books in boot camp if he wanted to try and call you, you're supposed to have your loved ones numbers memorized.

The last time Leon saw you was the night before he was supposed to move to the city, before he got a letter in the mail the next morning telling him not to come in, he really wishes he had listened. You were so happy for him, starting out as a city cop was a big deal and he had worked so hard to get there, you and a few friends had thrown him a going-away-party, telling him not to forget you once he got to the city. Leon couldn't forget you if he tried.

You had talked about moving to the city with him for a short period of time, it was really just ramblings the two of you kept bringing up. "Oh, when we live in the city..." "I can come visit you at work..." "I'll handle dinner, you'll handle cleaning..." Nothing ever really came of those ideas, but it gave him a warm feeling in his stomach knowing you wanted to come to the city with him.

He hopes you’ve been well, that life has been kinder to you than it has to him. Leon hopes you got that job you were gushing about the last time he saw you, he hopes you still think of him on his birthday because he thinks of you often.

He shouldn’t have gone to Raccoon City, he should’ve stayed home the day he left and instead stopped by your house to bother you about going to see a movie. Or he should have taken you to lunch, anything would’ve been better than walking into a city that was beyond saving.

"I’m not really sure what I’m saying, but I know I miss you. How have you been? I hope I’m able to come and visit soon, everything’s been moving so fast, but I’ll figure something out. Maybe we can get dinner, or something. Whatever you want, I’ll pay for it, don’t worry."

Leon's hands shake a tiny bit when he thinks of you, it's that school boy nervousness that movies portray whenever there's a boy with a crush on a girl who he knows is probably too out of his league. You were friends, at least.

"You're done with school now, right?" He knows you are. "I wish I was there for the graduation ceremony, I know your parents are proud. Do you remember my graduation party? Someone spiked the punch and we both ended up passed out in the bathtub at your house, you looked really pretty that night. I hope your graduation was better than mine. This would probably have been better as a phone call, but I don't know, you said letters were always more thoughtful.

– Leon"

–

That letter never got sent. Every letter needs an envelope, Leon just never got around to finding one, but he kept that scrap piece of paper tucked inside his pillowcase on the odd chance that he got his hands on one. He had stricter rules to follow than the other recruits, being legally dead and all.

But even after he got out of boot camp, he kept the letter. It's hidden away in some drawer in his house, he's not sure where, though.

He didn't make it into the army, he's not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing, but being in the position he was in now wasn't much better. He's stronger now, hardened, more mature.

Leon's written a few more letters to you over the years, ones that still never got sent because he either deemed them unworthy or because he became unsure of himself halfway through writing it. But he hasn't thrown any of them away, he'll send them one day, he swears it.

Leon's not using you as a way of journaling, either, even though he should find some way to actually write down his thoughts to get them out of his head. What he writes to you is mostly memories, telling you that his life keeps changing and that he misses you. He knows you're different by now, too. You're both grown, no longer in high school, no longer in college or the academy. If he could turn back time, go anywhere other than Raccoon City, he would. He thinks that's selfish of him, him not being there would've left Claire and Sherry in that city, but how would he have even known?

"Me again, hope you're doing better than I am." Leon's way with words gets worse and worse by the week, not that he cares. "I met someone who kind of reminded me of you, she's a sweetheart, like you. You'd probably become fast friends if you were ever able to meet."

Leon's not allowed to tell you about his mission in Spain, or about the president's daughter. President Graham is putting more body-guards in place for his daughter once she steps foot in D.C. again, Leon's sure the president considered appointing Leon as one of them at some point since breaking the news that she was going to be coming back home safely.

Leon should stop thinking about you so much, it's not like you were his only friend in the world, you've probably forgotten him, anyway.

"My life is still different, but yours probably is, too. This probably sounds stupid, but I miss being in high school. You probably don't, your mom was up your ass all the time and you worked yourself to the bone. Has that changed at all?

I remember that one year I went to Thanksgiving at your house, your uncles were all drunk and your cousins kept trying to get me to come sit with them, your grandpa was trying to get me interested in football. I haven't had a holiday like that since then, your family was always really nice to me."

He's not sure what to say anymore, these letters always just end up dragging out, but Leon has a lot of memories and he hopes you think of them as often as he does.

"I'm sorry I haven't visited. It's harder for me to get time off of work these days, even though I could really fucking use it. I promise one day I'll come back, it's just not going to be for a little while. Just don't do anything dumb.

– Leon"

–

Those letters he's been writing you have piled up in the drawer of his nightstand.

He's definitely sure that your address has changed by now, you're probably not even in the same state anymore. He could always try to find you on Facebook, explain everything that's been building up over the years in a simple text, but there's still rules he's supposed to follow even in his personal life.

Leon didn't stop writing, though. The letters did eventually get shorter, he's not sure if you like the same things anymore or if you'd even be interested.

He writes now mostly about how different his life would be if he was with you, if he had just asked you out in high school or kissed you the night he was supposed to leave for Raccoon City. It almost feels real to him when he goes to sleep, but that might just be the alcohol numbing his brain, not the dream of you sleeping next to him or the feeling of your breath on the back of his neck, not even the little pitter-patter off tiny footsteps coming from down the hallway.

It does make him feel a bit pathetic, dreaming of a life with someone he hadn't talked to in years. Leon can't help but think of you, he always thought you were pretty, and the past always lives in the back of his mind, but it comes alive late at night.

You're an entirely different person by now, someone who he hasn't had the opportunity to meet yet. You're probably married, maybe you even have a few kids running around, Leon's jealous of that. That could've been him, but it's not. But he's not even sure if you'd recognize each other if you passed by on the street, so is it even worth it to dwell on all the maybe's?

"I'm not sure I'll get to visit you for a while, not without a lucky fucking twist of fate, anyway."

All these letters are starting to sound the same, but Leon clings onto the thought of someday sending them to whatever corner of the country you were hiding in and hoping that there's still room in your life for a stranger.

"Do you still want me over for dinner? You don't know what I'd give to just eat a shitty meal with you right now."

You don't know what he'd give to do anything with you, really. He knows that there's a lifetime worth of things he's missed out on and that maybe every once in a while you think about him in the same way he thinks about you.

"I don't know how to ask this, but are you married? I know you'd look stunning in a wedding dress." You probably are, you're a catch, who wouldn't want to put a ring on your finger? Your husband's probably a better man than he is, too. One who hasn't had years worth of trauma jammed into his brain with the proof of it marked across his body, your husband probably takes you out on a date every week, maybe even surprises you with breakfast in bed and kisses the nape of your neck to gross out your kids. "I really hope you're happy, in my head you are.

I wanted that to be us, I never told you, but I was a chicken-shit kid and didn't know how to say it. You show up in my dreams sometimes, you deserve nothing but the best. I meant to get back in touch with you forever ago, but I think it's probably too late.

– Leon"

–

Two years after his last letter and Leon's still thinking of you, seventeen years after Raccoon City and the image of you sitting across from him for the last time still loops in his mind. He doesn't really remember your voice but he knows that you thought handwritten letters were romantic, and he still reads over the ones he meant to send to you but kept avoiding.

He's done with the letters, hasn't written one in a long time. But he just got back from California and your old favorite song is playing on the radio, and he's remembering how in love he is with your memory.

"I don't know what I'm doing. I'm too old for this and I'm sure you'd tease me if we had somehow kept in touch. I don't blame you if you thought I died in Raccoon City, I hope you're still alive and that life is good to you.

You were always important to me, I think you've given me something to cling to over the years. This letter won't find you and I'm not even really sure if I want it to, but I hope you'd still call me if you were able to. You wouldn't believe the things I've seen, but I'm happy you never got to see them.

Love, Leon

p.s. I'd say I love you but it feels like something you'd say in person"

[marauder-misprint]

Hii!! I just wanna say, ur writing is genuinely AMAZING. Like, actually tear inducing, feet-kicking, giggling-in-bed kind of amazing. This is my first ever request so bear with me 😔: for your 200 followers celebration (congrats by the way), I was wondering if you could do the prompt 10: “Too good for you? Don’t be ridiculous—they don’t deserve you.” Where reader is in a kinda toxic relationship and Remus, her bestie makes her realize this while also realizing her feelings for him?? Idk if this makes sense I’m sryyy 😭. Totally fine if u don’t feel comfortable doing it, or are to busy! Ignore my ineligible ranting, I for ur I hope ur doing well! Have a good rest of ur day/night!! :)

- 🌅

Thank you!!! This was so much fun to write ♡ Hope you enjoy it

Fireside Conversations

Remus Lupin x fem!Gryffindor!reader

2k words

cw: fluff, toxic relationship

The Gryffindor Common Room was quieter than usual. Which is why everyone there heard your disgruntled groan followed by you basically yelling, “Would you just listen!” as the portrait opened and closed. Peter was shaking his head as he approached the rest of the Marauders where they gathered on the couches by the fire. 

“They are fighting again,” he says as he sits down next to James. He didn’t need to say who. They knew. 

“That’s, what, third time this week?” James asks.

“At least,” Peter responds.

Remus stands up, looking at the portrait hole concerned.

“Moony, don’t,” Sirius says with a warning tone. “She doesn’t want us meddling, remember?”

“I’m not going to meddle,” he says unconvincingly. He wasn’t planning on meddling, rather eavesdropping, which in his defense, you never said he couldn’t do. He found it was easier to comfort you when he knew exactly what the bastard you called your boyfriend did this time. That was why he was going to listen… and to step in or meddle if things got out of hand. 

Remus walks over to the portrait and cracks it open the tiniest bit. He cast a muffling charm behind him so that your voice wouldn’t carry too far into the common room and then hoped you and your boyfriend would be oblivious to the ever-so-slightly open portrait.

“You need to stay away from them,” Remus hears your boyfriend tell you. “They’re using you to get into your pants.”

You scoff. “You’re being ridiculous! I’ve been friends with them since first year, and that’s all we are! We’re friends. Totally platonic. It’s you I like and that’s all that matters!”

“I know you like me. It’s them I don’t trust. So you need to stay away from them.”

“But I trust them. Isn’t that enough?”

“No, it’s really not. I think you’re blinded by them being in Gryffindor with you. You can’t trust everyone in your house, darling.”

“But they’ve earned it.”

“Listen, listen, I’m just worried for you. You spend so much time with them that it feels like you’re putting space between us. I think they’re trying to break us up.”

“They wouldn’t!” you protest. “And even if they were, I wouldn’t let that happen.” 

“Baby, just listen to me, okay? I wouldn’t steer you wrong, would I?”

You sigh and say in a mumble, “No, you wouldn’t.”

Remus lets the painting close quietly and he returns to the couches looking more grumpy than usual. 

“What’s birdbrain up to now?” Sirius asks. 

“Apparently the four of us are trying to seduce her.”

The three boys burst out laughing, a tiny snippet of the rambunctious noise that usually filled the common room. The grumpy look did not leave Remus’ face. It remains as you enter the common room, still looking upset and rubbing your eyes. You give the boys the briefest of glances before looking away and beelining it to the girls’ dorms. 

“Of course he made her cry,” Remus scowls. 

---

He loves me. I love him. He loves me. I love him. 

You kept repeating that in your head. Your boyfriend just cared for you, that’s all. He just cared so, so much. Almost too much. Was that something to fault him over? Goodness, you didn’t want to.

He loves me. I love him. 

Maybe if you said it enough, it would soothe your uneasiness. You’re laying in bed. Sleep was refusing to take you so you toss and turn, trying to make the least amount of noise with your rustling sheets. You really didn’t want to wake Lily or Marlene or Mary and have to have a heart-to-heart about why you can’t sleep. 

He loves me. I love him. 

Eventually, enough is enough. You climb out of bed, grab your robe and go to the common room. You almost laugh when you see Remus already sitting by the fire. From the way he’s sitting, he most definitely has a book in his lap. You stand quietly next to an armchair near him.

“Mind if I join you?” you ask softly. 

He jumps slightly but smiles as soon as he recognizes your voice and looks up. 

“Please,” he breathes, gesturing to the chair you’re standing by. “Couldn’t sleep?”

You nod as you tuck your legs underneath you.

“What’s eating your mind, love?”

“Nothing. Just couldn’t sleep.”

“Don’t lie to me.” His voice was so knowing yet gentle. And he always could tell when you lied and he refused to tell you what your tell was. 

You sigh. “Can you love someone too much?”

Remus doesn’t respond right away; he doesn’t know how to. Did you love your boyfriend too much? Did he love you too much? Was it a good thing or a bad thing to love too much? 

You look at the fire, waiting for Remus to answer. You don’t mind that he isn’t answering right away. You like that he’s thinking about it, choosing his words carefully. It was one of the things you loved about him.

“I… I don’t think you can love the right person too much. Your love won’t be too much or too little when it’s right.”

When you look at Remus, he’s already looking at you with so much concern and love in his eyes. You rest your head on your hands.

“When did you get to be so wise, Lupin?”

He shrugs. “One of the perks of being an old man, I guess.”

You sigh. You think Remus looks very cozy in his sweater and pyjama bottoms. There was something about him that always seemed cozy and comfortable. Being with him was one of the places you felt most at ease. 

You need to stay away from them. 

Your boyfriend’s words echo in your mind. It makes you want to cry. You want him to be the right person, but you couldn’t stay away from the Marauders, most of all Remus. He was your best friend. What if your boyfriend was the right person for you but you weren’t his?

“I… I don’t think I’m enough for him,” you mumble. “He’s too good for me.”

Remus stares at you dumbfounded. 

“Too good for you? Don’t be ridiculous — he doesn’t deserve you.”

“Remus-” you start to say. 

“No, darling, listen. I know it’s not my place and I’m not trying to meddle, but he’s not right for you. He told you you couldn’t cheer for your own house’s Quidditch when we played Ravenclaw and he’s not even on the team.”

“He just really wanted us to be cheering for the same team.”

“He told you to stay away from us.”

Your face hardens and your lips form a thin line.

“You heard that?”

He nods and says, “Your boyfriend shouldn’t be so insecure in your relationship. He should trust you to be around other people, around your friends. Especially around your friends who you’ve known for years.”

“I know,” you sigh. “But-”

Remus cuts you off again. “No buts, darling. Have you ever given him a reason to doubt your feelings for him?”

“No.”

“You give him all your love and that’s how he responds? You don’t deserve that kind of treatment. We’re not dumb, we know how much you’ve been fighting. If he can’t see how lovely, strong, loyal, smart, perfect you are, how devoted you can be when you care for someone, that’s on him. It’s on him for not trusting you, not seeing how you are more than capable of handling yourself and able to come back to the ones who care for you most.”

You close your eyes. Tears are building and you really don’t want them to fall. You know if you start crying, you won’t be able to stop. Something about Remus being right struck a nerve. You should be enough for your boyfriend. If Remus was able to see all of this in you, why couldn’t he? 

You feel a hand on the side of your face. You open your eyes to Remus crouching in front of you, one hand holding your face and the other placed next to your leg, helping him maintain his balance. 

“I know you said not to meddle, but that’s truly what I think, sweetheart. I think that relationship isn’t worth the arguing. I think it’s run its course.”

You feel the tears beginning to fall as you nod. “I-I, I think so too.”

“Oh, darling,” he coos as he pulled you into a hug.

You let the tears fall more freely as Remus holds you tight to his chest. He doesn’t shush you. He just holds you, softly rubbing your back. You could always be vulnerable with him. He understood in a way that you felt no one else did. He never judged you. He was your safe place. 

“Rem?” you ask, looking up at him.

“Mhmm?”

“Will you be there when I end things?”

“You want me there?”

You nod. “I won’t back down if you’re there.”

“Then I’ll be there.”

---

He was there for you. He was there for you when you broke up with your boyfriend. He was there for you when he tried to convince you that breaking up was a mistake. Remus was there for you when you broke down crying later. He never left your side. And you liked it. You had your own traveling safe place in Remus. 

With each passing day, being without your now-ex was easier. Being with Remus was easy. 

But you weren’t with Remus. The more you considered it, the more you wished you were. He already treated you better than your ex did. He never made you feel like you were too much or not enough. You knew he trusted you more than life itself. You didn’t dare say anything though. What if you ruined the friendship? What if you said something and lost your four best friends in one swoop? 

It really hits you one night, a few weeks after the breakup. Today had been nothing special. Just classes and studying in the library with Remus. But it had felt so special and every time your hands accidentally touched, you swear you felt fireworks. 

I love him. … Does he love me?

Why did you always think about things when you were in bed? Once again, you’re tossing and turning. You groan quietly as you get up. You know you won’t get sleep. 

This time, you do laugh when you see Remus already in the common room, sitting by the fire with a book as usual.

“Do you ever sleep?” you ask with a laugh as you join him on the couch.

You rest your head on his shoulder and look at the pages of his book.

“Usually during History of Magic and from three to seven.”

You giggle and Remus turns his head to look at you, a soft smile playing on his lips. 

“What’s on your mind tonight, sweetheart?”

You don’t respond right away, the worry of ruining a perfectly good friendship festering inside of you. 

“Do you fancy anyone?” you ask quietly.

His eyes go wide and he chuckles awkwardly. He looks away. 

Oh, he so does.

“Erm, yeah. I do…”

There’s a beat of silence. 

“Do you think she’s the one? The right one, I mean.”

“I’d like to think so. Only been in love with her since third year.”

“How do you know?”

“She’s my safe place. More than James, more than Sirius, more than Peter. She’s the loveliest person I know. She’s brilliant. Beautiful. Loyal. Perfect.” He pauses. “She has her flaws but doesn’t everyone? I mean, I got my furry little problem.”

Without thinking, you say, “You’re my safe place.” 

He looks back at you, the softest look in his eyes.

“I am?” he whispers. 

“You are.”

“So we’re each other’s safe place, huh.”

She’s my safe place. 

The realization hits you. Your face heats as you stare into those warm brown eyes. 

“You think I’m beautiful?”

He hums in response. There’s a silent conversation happening between you as you maintain eye contact. You nod. He places his hand underneath your chin and lifts your face. He leans in slowly, giving you time to pull away in case he misunderstood you. You don’t. You lean in too, meeting his lips with your own. The fireworks you felt when your hands accidentally brushed paled in comparison to when he kissed you. The hands were barely a spark and this was a firework show's finale. 

Maybe Remus really was your right person. 

[marsdql]

no thoughts, head empty, just enha members find out reader y/n who they assume is constantly reading like nonfiction smart shit, (which they occasionally do) is just reading straight smut. luv your writing btw 💕

﹙ 📩 ﹚ ──── HYUNG LINE WHEN THEY CATCH YOU READING SMUT

I’m so sorry I responded to this late but here u go! And Tysm anon, I’m glad you enjoy my work! .. genre — teasing, fluff, tiny suggestiveness?, teasing again..! || wc: 0.6k || still only used Hyung line for this since it has to do with smut books but yh — I made this quick since I’m working, but I can make a part2 if anyone suggests it

Lee Heeseung

Heeseung stumbles into your room while you’re tucked away in a cozy reading nook, glasses perched on your nose, flipping through a book with intense focus. At first, he doesn’t pay much attention—until he notices the sly smile on your lips.

“What’s got you so distracted, hmm?” he asks, leaning over your shoulder. He peers at a few lines and raises an eyebrow, his smirk widening. “Wait… is this—oh, I didn’t know my smart little girlfriend had such… interesting taste.”

When you try to protest, he chuckles and tilts your chin up to meet his eyes. “Don’t be shy, babe. I get it. But if you need inspiration for your imagination… you know where to find me.” His teasing lingers, but the way he looks at you says he’s half-serious. Rest of the members under cut!

Park Jongseong

Jay walks into the library where you’ve been studying all day. He’s impressed by how focused you always seem, but today, something feels… different. He notices how you’re practically hiding the book you’re reading and immediately gets curious.

“What are you reading, brainiac?” he asks, sliding into the chair next to you. Before you can stop him, he snatches the book and flips to a random page. His eyes widen, and a mischievous grin takes over.

“Wow, I didn’t think this was your kind of material. All this time I thought you were just a sweet, innocent nerd.” He leans closer, voice dropping to a whisper. “But maybe there’s a side of you I haven’t seen yet. Should I be taking notes, babe?” His teasing lingers as he watches your reaction with clear amusement.

Sim Jaeyun

Jake barges into your room, excited to tell you about something, but stops short when he sees you on your bed, completely engrossed in your book. He’s always admired how you’re so smart and dedicated to your studies, but today, he catches a glimpse of the title and furrows his brows.

“Wait a second… what’s that?” he says, snatching the book before you can hide it. As he scans the pages, his cheeks turn pink, but his grin grows wider.

“So, Miss Straight-A’s has a wild side, huh?” he teases, holding the book just out of your reach. “I had no idea you were into… this kind of stuff. Is this why you wear those cute glasses? To hide your secret fantasies?” He hands it back eventually but not without one last smirk. “If you ever need a study partner for… other things, let me know.”

Park Sunghoon

Sunghoon finds you curled up in a café, surrounded by your usual study materials. But instead of reviewing notes, he notices you’re completely absorbed in a book. Intrigued, he sits across from you and casually plucks it out of your hands.

“Let me guess, some academic paper or philosophical novel, right?” he says, flipping it open. When he realizes what it is, his jaw drops for a second before his signature smirk appears.

“Wow, and here I thought my girlfriend was all books and brains. Turns out, you’ve got a wild imagination too.” He leans forward, voice dropping to a low murmur. “You know, you could’ve just asked me for help if you wanted ideas for… research.” He slides the book back to you, his eyes glinting with amusement. “But don’t let me stop you, babe. I’m kind of curious to see how far this goes.”

[sweetieviktor]

viktor x librarian! reader (headcanons + tiny scenarios) part 2

summary: even before your relationship, heimerdinger already knew you and viktor liked each other. now, he wants to help to bring you two together.

content warning: fluff!! and a bit of language towards the end :D (it was written with s1 viktor in mind!)

author notes: im here again with the viktor and librarian! reader hcs, but it was so cute and i couldn't turn down the anon who sended me the request!! i really liked to write this (i mean.... you can see how much i liked, its pretty big lol) and i hope you like it too! (i recommend you read the part 1 before this, bcs you wont might understand some stuff since its on the first. well, here's the link for part 1!)

» being a librarian near piltover’s academy means that every time a student needed some book or document you might have, they would come to you. even professors.

you’ve seen the doors opening, but you didn’t see anyone standing there. you thought that maybe it was the wind, but soon you heard a voice coming from behind the reception desk. “hey, down there!” looking down, you recognized the owner of the voice, professor cecil b. heimerdinger.

“oh, i’m sorry, didn’t see you in there!’’, you rubbed the back of your neck, nervous, afraid considering that you had one of the most important people of piltover inside the library you work in. “well, how could i help you?”, you offered him a polite smile and he offered one of his, fur twitching up around the corners of his mouth.

“oh, you see, maybe you do have some old stuff, like-”

» after this, whenever he needed something, he would find himself already walking to your library. he often recommended the establishment for his students and pupils, making it a spot for study dates and scientific discussions. now, it was even harder to take breaks, the place was more crowded than it ever was. oh, you just wanted to hear what heimerdinger was wanting to say, about what had been happening at the academy or, even better, at the council, but, obviously, only the non-confidential stuff.

when your lunch break hit, you were finally able to come meet the professor, a normal occurrence every week. you could see his small figure waving and smiling, seated and already waiting for you at the cafeteria he likes. “hi, friend! i’ve ordered the usual for us,” he said while adjusting himself on his seat, “my assistant and one of my students are working together on... something. it's revolutionary, i could say, but very dangerous. i’ve already advertised them about it but they insist on doing it anyway,” he sighed, tidying the ends of his furry moustache, “and my assistant, specifically, wants to know if you have some old materials that could possibly help them.”

“oh, of course! it’s always a pleasure to help piltover’s geniuses.”

» next week, he showed up with the said assistant, viktor, and it was love at first sight. he was gorgeous and intelligent too. oh, dear janna, he was the perfect kind of guy. you eyes didn't catch how he was less confident than how normally he is, or the way he smiled at you, of course you didn’t, it was the first time you’ve met each other, but professor knew you both well enough to know something was going on. and he was correct when he said viktor would come in there often, because, indeed, he did. way too often for someone who was meant to be just a customer.

» sometimes, heimerdinger would stay in the library, pretending to read some book, only to observe how you and viktor interacted around one another. it was crystal clear how you liked each other, but were rather afraid to confess your feelings, so the yordle made it his personal mission to help you two to get together.

» and when you first sorted and stored some books for viktor based on what he was reading these past days, it was when it hit him that he might be liking you. and later, once he reached the academy again, jayce and heimerdinger already were waiting for him in the lab, both of them noticing how tense he was as soon as he opened the door.

“viktor, my boy, what happened?” the yordle said, making up space on the couch so his assistant could sit by his side. which he did, leaving the books on the table and his cane near himself, often rotating it around its own axis, just so he could occupy his mind with something that wasn't you.

“it's nothing, professor,” but he knew viktor was lying. the way he played with his cane, or how he wasn't looking at their eyes, it all made him seem more and more suspicious.

jayce came closer, sitting at the edge of his rotating chair, touching viktor's shoulder lightly, “hey, if something is happening, you can count on us,” his eyes full of empathy, looking at his friend, “whatever it may be.”

soon, it clicked for heimerdinger. his assistant just came back from the library, he had books on his hands and was visibly shaken. of course! how could he forget about the librarian? “i might have a theory why he is like this, jayce,” he chuckled, leaving viktor flustered and jayce confused. he met jayce's curious gaze, his own smile bringing a smirk to his pupil's face.

“and what would be that theory?”, jayce asked, thinking about all the possibilities of what had happened to get viktor like that.

“he is in love, boy.”

jayce smirk grew to a smile, then this smile turned itself into a full laugh, shaking his whole body, rubbing his hand over his face, trying to recompose himself. “i can't believe it!”, he was trying to hold his laugh, while viktor looked at him, completely serious.

“then don't,” viktor said, giving his friend a death stare.

jayce took a deep breath, never wanting to see this look again on viktor's face, adjusting his posture and continuing, “tell me, who is the lucky one?”

“i don't want to say it.”

“please?”

“fine! ehhh... do you remember the libra-”

“HA! I KNEW IT WAS THEM!”, jayce shouted, throwing his hands in the air, celebrating.

» from this day on, jayce and heimerdinger often gave viktor advices on how to win over your heart (because they had a lot of love experiences before, obviously). one day, heimerdinger suggested for him to bring over some coffee and pastries for you while you were working, he even recommended the ones he knew you liked, the usual you ordered in the cafeteria on your lunch breaks with him.

» so your not-a-date happened. people were talking loudly on the streets, but not a single client in. the natural light coming from across the windows giving the whole place even more of a cozy feeling, the light breeze was getting colder but the coffee he brought for you was keeping you warm. there was soft music playing in the background – most clients liked it since it helped them to focus, or so they said –, but you couldn't concentrate since he was looking at you, stealing glances from in-between pages, admiring you while you pretended to read, just like him. little did he know your heart was already on his hands.

» after a particular day, where you finally confessed to one another, exchanging your firsts “i love you's”, you both started to be spotted together a lot, usually at library or, like now, at piltover’s academy, bringing your boyfriend resources useful for him and for jayce too.

you knocked on the lab's door, receiving an answer from the other side, a muffled “come in” from someone you assumed was jayce. you then opened the said door, greeting jayce quickly while you walked towards a desk, leaving everything upon it.

heimerdinger was near viktor's workbench, helping him solve an equation, both totally focused on their tasks. when the tiny creature noticed you, he immediately came to you, “oh, friend, you're here! what brought you in there?”

“i've invited them,” viktor said, putting his goggles over his forehead, reaching for his cane and standing up, leaning on it. “i wished my, ehhh, partner knew my work place. besides, they also got me the books we needed, right?”, you nodded your head, gesturing to the desk where the books were placed on.

heimerdinger looked at them, then to viktor, to you and back at him, “oh... so, now you're partners?”, heimerdinger raised his brows, tilting his head to the side, “well, i knew it would happen sometime. i mean, ever since i’ve seen you both together, i knew you would be together,” he smiled, his fur turning up, “oh, friend, one day, me and jayce realized why he was acting so weird around us, just after one of his visits to the library, it was because-”, heimerdinger was talking excitedly, gesturing with big motions until viktor cut him.

“oh, please, professor. stop it,” viktor said, walking up to you and standing by your side. redness was spreading over his cheeks and ears, “there's no need to share any of this.”

“but you were-”

“professor,” you called, looking at him with apologetic eyes, “sorry to interrupt you but my break is going to an end in-”, you looked at the lab's clock, “fifteen minutes, i must go now.” you've met heimerdinger and jayce with a goodbye, then, getting closer to viktor, tidying his hair and adjusting his goggles over it so it won't fall over his golden eyes again, “see you later, vik. i would like to hear about any stories you might want to tell me,” you kissed his cheek, happy on how he blushed even more after the little display of affection, walking away and leaving the lab.

“you are in love!”, jayce said in between a laugh, pointing towards viktor.

“fuck you.”

“language, boy!”

[kingkat12]

sweet and innocent (roman godfrey x reader)

WARNINGS: 18+, dry-humping, biting, marking, teens being horny lol (everyone is legal dw)

summary: attempting to keep your hormones in check might be the hardest task of all-- it usually doesn't end the way you think it will. then again, when have you and Roman ever been able to control yourselves, anyway?

word count: 433 (teeny tiny friday treat!)

a/n: the real ones know that this is the fun part of sex lol, this might be an odd one but i needed to get this out of my brain... enjoy!!!

"Ouch," Roman breathed, an airy laugh following.

Hearing him groan like that made me realize what the fuck I was doing-- I had been so blinded by my arousal that I had sunk my teeth into his shoulder. It was certainly a reflex which I didn't know I had, and it was all crashing down on me as Roman pressed a kiss to my temple.

His voice was all raspy today, still a little breathless; "Wanna bite me, baby? Wanna hurt me?"

Everything came crashing down on me-- the way my legs were wrapped around him, how my arms were draped around his body, how desperate I was beneath him.

However, could you blame me?

Since I wasn't too keen on having my first time with my parents on the other side of the wall, and also because we were never at Roman's place, our usual make-out sessions had somehow morphed into... whatever this was. Our efforts at keeping our teenage hormones under wraps had failed miserably.

This, however, was next level from anything we had done before-- we were practically in our underwear (if you don't count the socks) with his hard, clothed cock grinding into the apex of my thighs, my soaked panties, brushing against my clit with every thrust. I really had no idea how we ended up like this, and how this was the third time we had allowed this to happen; all I knew was that it felt amazing.

It felt sweet, innocent-- good.

Good enough to drive me into a frenzy, biting down on his shoulder with no thought in mind other than the pleasure.

So I slowly laid my head back down on the pillow, feeling my cheeks burn with embarrassment. "Sorry," I mumbled, trying my hardest not to think about how much I wanted him to move again. "Just-- Just forget that."

Roman hummed, pondering whether to let it slide as he glanced at the fresh bite mark on his shoulder. It was tiny compared to the rest of him, and the sight almost made me shiver-- there was something thrilling about marking him. Knowing he was still walking around with two old hickeys on his collarbones, having asked for them, made me further dizzy-- he liked being mine. 

He liked it a lot, actually. He just wouldn't confess to it so openly. 

Which is why I didn't expect him to retaliate in typical Roman fashion; "I might just have to bite you back for that," 

"Don't you dare!"

"I might," he said, eyes darkening as a sinister laugh built in his throat. "Not now, not today... But I might."

And so it begun-- a new scare.

Fuck.

[evabby]

POLAR OPPOSITES.

chapter i > chapter ii || series masterlist.

SUMMARY : you and abby anderson go to the same college, and are in the same english class — you’re polar opposites who clash at every turn. abby is carefree and confident, whereas you’re more focused and disciplined. when you’re forced to partner up on a project, your rivalry deepens, but an unexpected connection does too. as abby pushes you to loosen up, your dynamic shifts from competitive to something far more complicated.

AUTHOR NOTE : this is my first fic ever written!!! please be nice aaa i hope this is okay<3 also lowercase is intentional :)!

CHAPTER I : BREAKING THE ICE

she didn’t know what it was about you.

maybe it was the way you were always well presented, your hair perfectly straightened or tucked into a neat ponytail, not a strand loose.

maybe it was how driven you were, how focused you could be.

or maybe it was even how your answers were always precise, your hand darting up in front of abby whilst in class to quickly answer a question, yet again.

you were smart— abby knew she was smart too, but hell, it was cute how effortless you made it look.

abby, on the other hand, was the complete opposite. sure, she was smart, but she was loud. she would always comment on anything and everything, and would make sure everyone in class knew just exactly what she was thinking.

she brought energy to the classes discussions, even if she was one-upped by your quiet brilliance.

it was the tiny things,

how you would give abby that small, imperceptible smile when you answered a question she simply didn’t know the answer to,

how you’d subtly let out a quiet sigh when abby interrupted the professor, just enough to make abby feel like she’d done something wrong, but never enough to call her out.

it intrigued her.

abby wasn’t even surprised when professor calloway had set up yet another paired project, as always.

he paced around the room, pointing to each student and telling them who their partner was. you weren’t too worried, thinking you’d be paired with another person who would just make you do all of the work, because you’re ‘smart’, until the finger that was pointed at you was paired with the words ‘abby anderson.’

the room fell into an expectant silence. you swallowed back the annoyance in your throat as you scribbled down in your notebook about the project, feeling abby’s gaze burning a hole into the side of your face.

you knew abby would be a nuisance. you’ve never spoken to her before, but all you heard in each class was her voice. complaining, commenting and just talking all the time.

a grin spread abby’s face as she moved to sit next to you, dragging the stool as she sat down, crossing her arms and tilting her head to look at you next to her.

“guess i’ll get to know you a little better, huh?” abby grinned.

your gaze shifted to her, with no clear expression on it, except a flicker of annoyance that was hard to spot.

“let’s just get this over with.” you mumble.

your first study session with abby was at the library. all of your resources, perfectly organised into each folder, were spread out across the library table. of course, abby showed up late. you didn’t pay much attention to this, you were focused on just getting the project done, even if that meant doing it yourself.

abby walked into the quiet place with a coffee cup in her hand, she spotted you in the far corner, already surrounded by books and notes, scribbling down notes hastily as if you needed to be somewhere.

“late as usual, i see” you mumble, your gaze still on your notes instead of abby as she sits down opposite you.

abby grinned, “just giving you a headstart, so i can y’know, have the satisfaction of getting ahead of you.”

“don’t want you to get too used to winning, do we?”

you stay silent, attempting to seem unbothered as you continue to note down key information. your focus was on the textbook as you calmly turned another page.

abby leaned forward, resting her chin in her hand, studying you. her gaze gave you an unsettling feeling low in your stomach.

“so, tell me,” abby said, breaking the silence. “how does it feel to always be the smartest person in the room? must get pretty boring, huh?”

your eyes flickered to meet abby’s, a glimpse of challenge in her gaze.

“i don’t think it’s boring.” you say, “it’s just a matter of doing the work.”

abby smirked, leaning back in her chair.

“oh im sure it is angel, but i can’t help but notice you never seem to have any fun with it. do you even know how to have fun?”

“maybe im just more focused on getting results than playing games.”

abby’s grin widened. she was loving this. “so serious. i bet you’ve never even had a decent prank pulled on you.”

you finally put your pen down, crossing your arms as you stare at abby.

“and i don’t plan on being the subject of one, thanks.”

abby raised an eyebrow. “you sure? you seem like you’d be fun to mess with.”

you narrow your eyes at her. “i doubt that.”

abby hummed, leaning back in her chair to observe all the carefully placed notes dotted over the table as you pick up your pen again, continuing to write down your notes.

this became a routine.

you and abby at the library every day after school, studying together — well, mainly you.

the next few weeks, your study sessions, which had initially been marked by bickering and pointed remarks, began to shift into something different. sometimes it felt like you were even friends.

at first, it was subtle. abby still teased you relentlessly, and you still responded with exasperation, but sometimes you both got along pretty well, despite your clear differences.

small moments that were embedded to your head brought you both closer.

“wait,” abby said, holding up her hand and frowning at her laptop. “are you sure that’s right? i think you missed a step.”

“excuse me?” you glanced up, your pen pausing mid air.

abby turned her laptop towards you, pointing at the screen. “see? if you don’t account for this, the whole thing falls apart.”

you leaned in, your eyes narrowing as you scanned the problem. “huh,” you said after a moment, begrudgingly. “you’re.. right.”

abby smirked , leaning back in her chair. “i know, i’m amazing.”

“you’re impossible is what you are.”

“and yet, here we are,” abby quipped, gesturing to the mess of papers between them.

you shook your head, but didn’t hide the small smile playing at your lips.

another time, you had arrived late to one of your study sessions, your normally immaculate appearance slightly disheveled.

abby raised an eyebrow as you dropped into your chair with a huff.

“rough day?” abby asked, her tone softer than usual.

“you have no idea,” you mutter, your voice quiet as you pull out your laptop. “my professor moved the deadline for our final essay up by a week, and i had to skip lunch to make the adjustments.”

abby frowned, rummaging through her bag before pulling out a granola bar and sliding it across the table.

“what’s this?”

“it’s called a granola bar,” abby said, smirking. “you eat it when you forget to take care of yourself. don’t worry, it won’t bite.”

you rolled your eyes but took the bar, unwrapping it and taking a small bite. “thank you,” you said quietly, your tone soft and genuine.

“don’t mention it,” abby said, her expression softening into a smile.

you found yourself letting your guard down more often around abby. this was something you weren’t used to, you wasn’t sure when it had started, but there were times when abbys teasing didnt geel like an attack — times were it felt almost comforting.

and abby, who had approached their dynamic as a fun game, found herself genuinely looking forward to your time together. your passion for the project, the way your face lit up when you did something right — it was captivating in a way abby hadn’t expected.

one evening, as you were both packing up after a particularly productive session, abby glanced over at you.

“you know, we make a pretty good team.”

you pause, your bag slung over your shoulder. “don’t let it get to your head.” you say, but there was no bite in your voice.

abby grinned. “too late.”

a few weeks later, abby walked in for another one of your study sessions.

she immediately spotted you, immersed in your notes, your hair tied into a neat ponytail. abby couldn’t help but watch for a moment, you had this way about you: serene, focused.

as abby slid into her chair opposite you, you didn’t pay any attention. not even a hello, not even a quick glance. her classic coffee she usually brought sloshed about in the cup as she placed it on the desk.

“you’re not really a studier, are you?” you say, looking at abby.

sure, abby was smart. really smart. but you’d never caught her actually studying with full focus, her intelligence seemed to be natural.

“i prefer to think of it as ‘studying in style’�� abby smirks, picking up the coffee cup and taking a long sip, her eye contact with you never breaking.

you look away, back at your notes. “if you mean fiddling around with distractions, then sure, i guess so.” you mumble.

abby chuckled, placing her cup down back onto the desk a bit too forcefully, on top of one of your flashcards.

“i’ll have you know, im very efficient. you could learn a thing or two from me.”

your eyes narrow slightly at her, as you slowly shove her coffee cup towards abby, moving your flashcard to the correct place.

“really? because you seem to think you can get by on distractions and your ‘charm’.”

abby leaned in slightly, adopting an exaggerated, sultry voice.

“oh, i think you’re underestimating me, angel. you wouldn’t want to be too dismissive. who knows? maybe im smarter than you think.”

you stiffen, your eyes flashing with with annoyance. but you didn’t snap back, no. instead, you picked up a notebook, opening it to a page full of neat handwriting.

instead of providing abby an answer she wanted, you carried on writing in your notebook.

“you know,” abby said, casually. “it’s cute.”

you furrow your brows at her, your pen stilled as you look at her in confusion.

“how serious you are about college. all those books.. those notes,” she gestured vaguely at the pile of textbooks and papers in front of you.

“do you even take a break, or are you too busy being the perfect student?”

you look back down at your work, staring at it. you knew abby was only teasing you, but still. abby could see the slight flush on your neck. “i don’t need breaks to get things done.” you replied, your voice tight.

abby leaned back, taking another sip of her coffee before she placed it back on top of your flashcards. you look at her for a moment, knowing what she was trying to do. abby knew she was getting under your skin.

abby pretended to study all of the papers across the table.

“‘m sure it must be nice to be perfect all the time, hm?”

this time, you looked up. your expression was slightly tighter, the kind of expression abby would see from your classroom debates — when you were trying to hide your frustration.

“not perfect,” you mumble, looking back down at your work. “just.. focused. i don’t let distractions get in my way.”

abby raised her eyebrow again, her grin widening.

“distractions, huh?” she took a deliberate pause, leaning in just a little closer. “does that mean i’m a distraction to you?”

your gaze flickered. just for a second, abby saw it — the briefest hint of something in your eyes, something she couldn’t quite place. it was gone as quickly as it appeared, replace by your usual mask.

“i think,” you said, quietly and still looking at your work, gripping onto your pen tightly. “you’re distracting yourself.”

abby leaned back, almost laughing.

“fair enough,” abby said, “already on chapter forty?” abby waved a hand over your notes. “you sure you’re not just trying to impress me with all you’re knowledge? because trust me, it’s working.”

your jaw tightened,

“i don’t need to impress anyone, anderson. i just need to get this project done.”

abby could hear the frustration in your voice, no matter how much you tried your best to hide it. and for some reason, that only made abby more determined to keep pushing. she loved to get a ride out of you, loved the way your jaw would set a little too tightly, your fingers gripping your pen a little too hard.

“you know,” abby said, fiddling with her coffee cup. “i’ve heard it’s hard to concentrate when you’re annoyed. kind of makes you second guess your whole strategy, doesn’t it?”

your eyes flicked to abby,

“im not annoyed.”

“of course you’re not, you’re just perfectly calm and collected whilst you’re seething on the inside.”

you didn’t respond, deciding to close your textbook and go on your laptop. the library was quiet, the soft tapping of your fingers heard on your keyboard. eventually, you were fully focused, your eyebrows furrowed as you typed at lightning speed.

abby’s gaze was fixed on you from opposite the table.

you felt her gaze, and looked up at her.

“what?” you whispered

“i like watching you work.” abby said lazily.

you look back at your laptop, giving her a weird expression. “good. maybe you’ll learn something.”

“ouch,” abby chuckled, unfazed. “i mean it. you’re like a machine. do you ever stop? breathe? blink?”

you sigh sharply, your fingers pausing mid-keystroke.

“what do you want, abby?”

abby leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table and tilting her head to the side.

“i just want to know why you’re so terrified of having fun,”

your eyes finally met abby’s, narrowed with irritation.

“i’m not terrified of fun. im just not wasting my time on pointless things when theres actual work to be done.”

abbys lips curved into a sly grin.

“see, thats where we disagree, i think fun is essential. like, its scientifically proven to make you more productive.”

you raise your brow, almost mocking her.

“uh huh.. and which documentary did you pull that from?”

abby shrugged, smiling. “abby andersons tips, tricks and facts. you should try watching it, first tip? there’s a party tonight, and you’re coming with me.”

you stared at abby like she just killed your family. “absolutely not.”

“why not?” abby pressed, leaning closer. “don’t tell me you’ve never been to a party, you’re a college student, not a nun.”

you scoff, returning your attention to your laptop to avoid eye contact with abby.

“i’ve been to parties. they’re loud, crowded, and a complete waste of time.”

“wow, angel.” abby said, feigning shock. “that’s the most boring sentence ive ever heard. what are you, eighty?”

your jaw clenched, your fingers resuming their rapid typing. “some of us actually care about this project, abby. you might wanna try it sometime.”

abby laughed softly, unfazed by your words. “oh, i care. but im also smart enough tto know we’re not going to burn out if we take a couple hours to, y’know, live a little.”

you didnt reply, your focus glued stubbornly to your screen. abby decided to up the ante.

“come on,” she said, “it’s not just any party. it’s the end of semester blowout. music, drinks.. and me, obviously.”

your typing faltered for a half a second before you quickly recovered.

“that’s not exactly selling a point.”

abbys hand meets her chest dramatically, pretending to be hurt.

“you wound me, angel. i thought you liked my company.”

you sighed, finally looking up to glare at abby.

“what part of ‘i’m not going to a party’ do you not understand?”

“the part where you think you have a choice,” abby said, her grin widening once again. “because im not giving up until you say yes.”

you roll your eyes.

“you’re impossible.”

“and you’re stubborn.” abby shot back. leaning in just enough to make you shift uncomfortably in your chair. “but i think you like the challenge.”

your lips parted, your retort on the tip of your tongue, but abby cut you off.

“look, i get it. you’re all about work, work, work. but you’re going to crash and burn if you don’t take a breather once in a while. this isn’t just me being annoying — this is me looking out for you.”

you blinked, momentarily thrown off by the sincerity in abbys tone.

“im not saying you have to get wasted or dance on tables, okay?” abby continued, “just show up, hang out for an hour and see what happens. if you hate it, ill personally escort you home. deal?”

you frown, your gaze flickering back to your laptop as you weigh your options.

“i don’t even have anything to wear.” you finally said, your voice quieter.

abbys grin returned, victory written all over her face.

”that’s an easy fix. wear anything that doesn’t scream, ‘i’ve been studying for 12 hours straight,’ i’m sure youll look amazing.”

you roll your eyes, but abby didn’t miss the faint pink tinge creeping up your neck.

“this is a terrible idea.” you mutter,

abby hums, standing up and grabbing her bag.

“eight o’clock. don’t be late. i’ll text you the address.”

“i haven’t even agreed yet!” you call after her, but abby was already walking away.

“see you tonight!”

you groan, burying your face in your hands. what have you gotten yourself into?

chapter i > chapter ii || series masterlist.

[butlervibesonly]

My fav girl! Could you please write something about Austin and reader having twins and being first-time parents?

Love your work, and love u too girl 💕🫶🤗

𝐷𝑜𝑢𝑏𝑙𝑒 𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑦 𝑚𝑖𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑙𝑒 | A. Butler

• Summary : First time parents, and actually Y/n and Austin would never thought that their first time parents would be of two babies!

• Pairing : dad! Austin Butler x mom! reader

• Warnings : fluff, and unless you don't like babies (u should)

• Note : A request for my fav girl @eternal-love !! Thank you for this amazing idea, love ya!!! 🩷

PS. GIF found on Pinterest, credit goes to owner as every pic used on this profile 😭

The bedroom was bathed in soft, sunrise light. You and Austin lay side by side on the bed, your newborn twins, Layla and Leo, nestled between you. Both babies are swaddled in pastel blankets—one pink, one blue, and their tiny faces are a mirror image of Austin. The same strong jawline, the same nose, even the same beautiful blue eyes.

"I still can't believe it," you whisper, your voice filled with awe. Your hand rests gently on Layla’s head, thumb softly brushing over the silky tufts of her blonde hair. “How did we go from just the two of us to… four of us?” you let out a soft laugh, gaze brimming with tears as you look over at Austin.

He chuckles, his own hand cradling Leo. “I don’t know,” he says in his deep but also soft voice. “One moment it was just the two of us, and now…” He trails off, his eyes traveling over the two perfect little faces. "Two babies. At the same time. And they look just like me! I’m not sure if I should be flattered or scared." he jokes.

You laugh softly, nudging his shoulder. “Flattered. Definitely flattered," you look at your babies. "They’re gorgeous thanks to you.”

“And you,” he added firmly, leaning over to kiss you. "I just can’t believe it! Twins, babe. A boy and a girl. How lucky are we?"

Your smile widens. “So lucky. I mean… look at them. Look at their little noses and their tiny fingers.” You reach out to trace Leo's hand, admiring how his fingers curled instinctively around yours. “They’re so small.”

Austin nods, his voice dropping to a whisper. “They’re so perfect, Y/n.” You turn your head to meet his gaze, heart swelling at the love in his eyes. “I’m so glad we’re doing this together, Aus. I can’t imagine a better dad for these two.”

He leans closer, resting his forehead against yours. “And I can’t imagine a better mom.” His eyes flicked back to the twins. “Though I’m still wrapping my head around the fact that they look exactly like me. You might get tired of having me and two mini me's.” Austin teases. You roll your eyes playfully. “Oh, shush. I gave them the eyelashes. And probably the attitude they’ll have in a few years.”

His laugh fills the room. “Fair enough. But I already know we’re going to have our hands full with both of them.”

You two fall into a comfortable silence, the only sounds in the room are the soft breaths of Layla and Leo, and the occasional coo as one of them shifted. For a moment, you looked at Austin, who watched the babies in admiration. He fell in love with them just like you did.

Yours and Austin's heart beat in unison, filled with gratitude, love, and the feeling that this—right here—is everything you ever wanted . As Leo let out a tiny yawn, his sister wiggled closer, and both, you and Austin exchanged a look of pure joy.

“This,” Austin murmured, wrapping an arm around his wife and pulling her close, “is the best thing we’ve ever done.” You rested your head on his shoulder, gazing at your babies. “The best. And all of this is just start, Aus.”

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

Aaaahhh!! I had so much fun writing this, and thanks to incredible @eternal-love for coming up with this idea!! I had so much fun writing this!! 🥹🍼🧸

[storiesforallfandoms]

our own after party ~ damien haas

word count: 3258

request?: no

description: while everyone else is gone out drinking after vidcon, they decide to get to know each other alone

pairing: damien haas x female!reader

warnings: swearing, rpf

masterlist (one, two, three)

There was something about being a new Twitch streamer/YouTuber at your first VidCon that was just so surreal.

I could barely believe I had even gotten the invite, even though I had nearly a million subscribers on YouTube and a couple hundred thousand on Twitch. But then to actually attend the event and meet so many creators I had been a fan of for years made it feel all the more surreal. I felt more like a fangirl than some of the people who had come to meet me.

I had some time after my own meet and greet to wander the floor and mingle with other creators and fans, as well as to check out some of the booths and whatnot that VidCon was offering. I got to meet other creators like me who were just completely starstruck with being at the con as a featured creator, and some of the old school YouTubers we had all been watching for ages. But what really got me was when I ran into some of the cast members of Smosh.

Smosh was probably the first YouTube channel I had ever gotten into, way back when it was just Ian and Anthony lip syncing to the Pokémon theme song and making skits. As time went on, I went back and forth on how much I watched. At some point I remembered having gone a few years without watching a Smosh video and deciding to see what they were up to, only to find out that it was way more people than just Ian and Anthony now. I was shocked, but found myself growing attached to the new cast and became a regular viewer again.

When Courtney spotted me me first, and knew my streaming name because they were a fan, I found it incredibly hard to keep my cool. I felt like i was living a dream that I never wanted to wake up from.

“Come, meet everyone!” they insisted, pulling me towards the group of YouTubers I had been watching for years. “Shayne! Look who I met!”

Shayne seemed to recognize me immediately as well, which made sense if Courtney watched me as frequently as they were saying. Didn’t make Shayne’s recognition any less exciting for me.

Courtney brought me around, introducing me to the faces I already knew. They were all so kind and welcoming, acting exactly as they did on camera. It was the best outcome when it came to meeting your heroes.

“What do you stream?” Angela asked after Courtney introduced us. “Like what kind of content?”

“Gaming, mostly,” I replied. “I have a friend group who also game and stream that I mostly play with. We’ll do Among Us, Lethal Company, stuff like that. But I do story based playthroughs on my own, too. Like, I just finished playing Baulder’s Gate on stream.”

“Oh, we have the perfect person to talk to about that.” Angela turned and called, “Damien!”

He wasn’t that far away from us, but Angela’s voice still rang out through the room. I couldn’t help but laugh. This was exactly what I loved about watching Smosh, and getting to see it in real life was way better than on a screen.

The familiar purple haired man made his way over to us. My heart began to beat a little faster. I had to remind myself how to breathe and how to act like a normal person. Maybe, just maybe, I had a tiny bit of a crush on Damien. He was the cast member I found myself growing attached to the most while watching, which wasn’t unusual. Everyone had their favorite cast member. I followed Damien’s non-Smosh career as well, especially his Anime voice acting. That’s when I started to realize my “attachment” was more of a little YouTube crush.

And now he was stood in front of me, and my stomach was so full of butterlies.

“(Y/N),” Angela said, pulling me back to reality. “This is Damien, our resident DND expert. Damien, this is (Y/S/N). She just played Baulder’s Gate. Communicate.”

Damien gave Angela a look before offering a hand to me. “Nice to meet you.”

“You, too.”

I was very aware I was shaking his hand for too long, but when I quickly ripped my hand away I became very aware of how weird that was, too. I internally cringed. Why can I not act normal?

“Since we’ve been assigned a speaking topic,” Damien said, luckily ignoring my current inability to be normal. “What were your thoughts on Baulder’s Gate?”

“I was pleasantly surprised. I’m not usually an RPG player, and I’ve never been into DND. But everyone and their mother was raving over Baulder’s Gate, so I decided to give it a go. I was tempted to break my streaming schedule so I could stream every day until I finished it, it was just that good.”

“It was so tough not to play it off stream. I’ve already started another save that I can play on my off time. I’m exploring what little I didn’t see on stream.”

“Romancing anyone different?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know yet. I might just focus on the story or the world.”

I nodded. I found myself at a loss for any way to continue the conversation. I tried to grasp at anything to say, but Damien’s attention was quickly drawn away by something Angela wanted to show him. Courtney pulled me into a conversation with Arasha, but I couldn’t help but watch Damien drift away, mentally kissing any shot at talking to him again goodbye.

The rest of the day passed by in a blur. The Smosh cast had a live panel to do, so eventually I parted ways with them. Courtney invited me out to an after party when the con was over, but I told them I wasn’t much of a partier and would have to pass on the invite. Although, I would definitely be holding onto the fact that I met the Smosh cast and was invited to party with them for the rest of eternity.

As much as I loved meeting fans and seeing the fun of VidCon as a creator, I was more than excited to go back to my hotel room and order McDonald’s to eat while I watched whatever old sitcom re-run was on the hotel TV.

I was in the hotel lobby waiting for the elevator when a familiar voice said, “Going up?”

My heart leapt to my throat when I turned to see Damien stood next to me, smiling at me.

It took me far too long to find my voice, and when I did I could only stutter out, “Uh, y-yeah, I a-am.”

“Me too.”

The elevator dinged and the door opened. No one was getting off, so Damien and I stepped on. We both pressed our respective floor buttons (I was definitely disappointed that we weren’t staying on the same floor), and the elevator started its journey up.

“You didn’t go to the after party?” I asked.

Damien shook his head. “I don’t drink, so there’s only so much fun you can have when you’re sober and all your friends are drunk. Besides, I don’t really party in general.”

“Me either. Courtney invited me to that party, but it’s just not my scene.”

“What are your plans instead?”

“Take out and TV. The old classic.”

All too soon, the elevator was dinging again and the doors opened on my floor. I said goodbye to Damien and stepped out. I was looking for my keycard, and mentally trying to get over the fact that this was probably the actual last time I would see Damien, when his voice called for me to stop. I turned back to see him holding the door open, the elevator angrily beeping at him.

“If you don’t have any other plans,” he said, “did you want to hang out in my room for a bit? I was just gonna order delivery and maybe play a game or two on my Switch, but it would be nicer to have some company.”

I tried not to seem too eager as I turned back to the elevator and joined him again. I wasn’t sure what I had done to be this lucky to get to spend more time with Damien, but I wasn’t about to question anything.

Damien led me to his hotel room and opened the door for me, gesturing for me to walk in first and he followed. There wasn’t much to take in since all the rooms were basically the same; a big room with one bed, a small bathroom, a huge TV on the wall, and a table with two cushion-y chairs on either side. His room didn’t have a balcony like mine did, though, and his was considerably cleaner. My room looked like a tornado had gone through it because I couldn’t decide what to wear or how to do my hair and makeup, so everything was just kind of thrown everywhere.

We sat down at the table and went through our options for delivery. My heart wasn’t completely set on McDonald’s, so I didn’t mind hearing Damien out on the options. Eventually, we settled on a large pizza and large garlic fingers, and some dessert we hadn’t heard of to go with it.

“If you don’t like it, I’ll eat it,” he said. “Nothing can be worse than some of the stuff Garrett used to make for Eat It or Yeet It.”

When the front desk called the room to let us know our delivery had come, Damien went down to grab it. When the door closed behind him, I immediately grabbed my phone and opened my Discord group with my friends.

“guys, you’ll never guess whos hotel room i’m in rn”

I was met with multiple messages along the lines of “gross”, “we don’t need to hear about your sexcapades”, “wrap it before you tap it”.

“not like that you freaks 🙄 i am currently hanging out with THEEEE Damien Haas”

My friend Nicky was the first to respond, “as in the guy from smosh??”

Jordan was next, adding, “as in the guy you’ve been crushing over for like three years???”

“yes and yes”

Now they were all suddenly very interested in what I was doing in Damien’s room. Suddenly the “ew we don’t need to hear it” messages had turned into begging for details.

I told them about meeting the Smosh cast at VidCon and happening to run into Damien when we got back to the hotel. I told them how he invited me over to his hotel room to hang out with him since neither of us were going to any after parties, and he was currently getting our delivery from the lobby.

When I finished explaining the situation, Jordan was quick to send a new message, saying, “you better kiss him tonight on god”.

I felt my face light aflame. “y’all i literally JUST met him. for all i know, i’ll never see him after today.”

Kayla, who had been quiet for most of the chat, decided this was the time to put in her two cents: “sounds like more of a reason to kiss him tonight 🤷🏻‍♀️”

I rolled my eyes and softly groaned. I guess what are friends for besides getting a rise out of you, while also giving you the advice you want to hear but don’t want to follow?

“What’s that about?”

I jumped and quickly tossed my phone aside. I hadn’t heard Damien come back, but now he was stood in front of me with two large boxes, topped with a smaller one, in his hands. I suddenly felt embarrassed, as if he had actually caught me talking about him. But there was no way he saw what we were talking about, was there?

“Just my friends being loveable pains in my ass,” I responded. “I didn’t even hear you come back. You should’ve asked me to come open the door or something.”

Damien shrugged as he put the boxes down in front of me. “Didn’t really need it. I had my key card in my hand so I could just tap it and push the door open right away. It took everything in me not to eat this whole pizza on the way up, though, so you better start digging in.”

We opened the boxes and took a few slices of pizza and the garlic bread each, before putting the boxes aside so that we could actually eat at the table (they were so big they took up the entire small round table). As I started to dig in, Damien turned on the hotel TV and casted Netflix from his phone to find something to watch. The second his profile opened, we were met with his “continue watching” section, which currently had Delicious in Dungeon as the first show under the heading. Red slowly crept up Damien’s neck to his cheeks.

“That’s embarrassing,” he said, quickly trying to get it off the screen.

“You don’t find it weird to watch a show you’re in?” I asked. Realizing how that sounded, I quickly added, “Weird as in, weird to hear yourself and know that’s you. Not weird as in...it’s a weird thing to do.”

Damien chuckled. “Not really, no. I don’t watch the English dubbed version. I mean, I watched the first episode just to hear myself and see how it all came together, but after that I just watched it with subtitles. Dungeon Meshi is my favorite voice acting thing I’ve done, and in general I really liked the manga when I read it so I wanted to follow it even though I know what’s going to happen.”

“I liked this one better than My Perfect Marriage anyways.”

I didn’t look at Damien after what I said. I don’t know why I felt almost embarrassed to have admitted to watching both. It’s not like I straight up told him I watched them just because he was in them.

But I could see him smiling out of the corner of my eye as he said, “You watched both?”

“I never finished My Perfect Marriage,” I admitted. “I wasn’t a fan of the plot, and...and I didn’t really like your character.”

He seemed surprised by my confession, so I felt the need to elaborate. “Not that he was a bad character, he wasn’t by any means. I just...didn’t like listening to him, because it didn’t...sound right, I guess? Like, it sounded like you, but not really if that makes sense. And...and I like you and your work too much to watch something that I felt wasn’t really you. That’s why I like Delicious in Dungeon better. Laios is very you.”

When I looked over at him, his smile had softened a bit. I had to look away in fear of starring at him for too long and weirding him out.

“I appreciate that,” he said.

We sat in silence for a while. Well, silence besides whatever show Damien had put on. I wasn’t really paying much attention. I was focusing on my pizza, and trying not to think too hard about the fact that Damien was sat so close to me. I mean, there was a whole table between us, but still he was so close. I still felt like I was in some kind of dream; like I was imagining the perfect way for my first VidCon to go.

At some point, Damien had picked the conversation back up by asking me more about myself. It started as questions about my Twitch and YouTube channels, but then it moved to general questions about me. In return, I started asking him about himself. We spent ages just talking and getting to know one another. Before either of us knew it, the show we had put on had stopped (neither of us had noticed so we hadn’t clicked “still watching”) and it was almost midnight.

The fatigue from the events of the day and the late hour finally hit me. My eyes were growing heavy, and I couldn’t stop myself from yawning. Damien looked over at me with an amused look.

“I guess it is getting close to a normal person bedtime,” he said.

“More like the bedtime of someone who had a lot of social interaction today,” I said. “I usually don’t mind being up late, but I am beat from today, and I have to do it again tomorrow and the next day too.”

Damien nodded in understanding. I was reluctant to leave, but I also didn’t want to just fall asleep sitting up. I had to be up early the next day to get ready for the next day of Vidcon, so I definitely had to go back to my room to sleep.

Damien walked me to the door, the leftover pizza and garlic fingers put in one box that he insisted I take with me. I tried not to be so obvious that I was stalling leaving, but I really did not want to go. I knew I’d likely see Damien at the con, but it wouldn’t be the same. And once the con ended, I’d probably never see him again, except for in Smosh videos.

“Thanks for inviting me over,” I said to him as I reached the door. “I had a good time.”

“Yeah, it was nice to have some company. You’re just as nice in real life as you are in your streams.”

The blush returned to his face, but I wasn’t focusing on that. I was too distracted by the fact that he had just accidentally admitted to watching my streams.

“I didn’t mean to say that,” he said, more to himself than to me.

“You watch my streams?” I asked.

After a moment of hesitation, he admitted, “Yeah, I do. I’ve been a viewer for a long time. I actually introduced Courtney to your stuff.”

Well, now that just made my entire day so much better. Damien was a fan of me? I had to be dreaming, right? I actually fell asleep at the table and now I was dreaming.

Feeling a bit confident, I admitted, “I’m a fan of yours, too. Like, outside of Smosh. I have kind of followed your non-Smosh career the most out of everyone.”

“Oh. Well...that’s...nice.”

We both looked at each other before we started to laugh. I was glad the moment hadn’t been made too awkward by both of our confessions.

“Hey, listen,” he said. “Before you go...do you think I could...get your number? Just so we can stay in touch after this weekend?”

No way this is happening. There’s just no way.

Instead of verbally answering, I took my phone from my bag and passed it to Damien. He put his number in and sent himself a text so that he’d have my number too.

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said.

I nodded. “Yeah. Let me know if you have any free moments, we can hang out.”

“I’d love that.”

We said our goodnights and goodbyes. I finally dragged myself away from him. As I waited for the elevator, I turned back to see he was still watching me from his doorway. I waved as the elevator door opened. He waved back before I stepped in and the doors closed, finally separating us.

Once the door was closed, I allowed myself to do a little happy dance.

[opiopal]

Something I think abt often is this little thing my mc has,

like hear me out: Ik yall are tempted to scroll bc I mentioned it’s my own mc but PLZZZ it’s cute I SWEAR, and it also included Mams,

so my mc Opal does NOT like to be touched/touch other people they do not know/aren’t comfortable with, they’ll actively pull away when people are too close and will scoot away if someone’s sitting too close. It’s not a mean thing or anything, she just genuinely hates it. it makes her skin crawl and makes her feel icky.

HOWEVER, out of the whole HOL, in the beginning sessions, Mams ends up becoming the one person she’ll cling onto both physically and emotionally, mostly because of how quickly he goes from threatening mc to suddenly wanting to just be around them, also she felt he actually made an effort to gain their trust via presents along with quality time, which she heavily appreciates.(she doesn’t have the heart to tell him she has no spice tolerance and that she only eats the spicy ramen he makes because he’s the one who made it.)

and I like to imagine that at first, an occasional grab at his sleeve or hand would send him into a mini spiral as he flusters, because he is a DORK. And also you just KNOW he would respect tf out of someone who doesn’t like to be touched physically, I can imagine him being the type of guy to like, pat people’s shoulders/back and stuff when talking and exaggerating stuff, so I feel he would restraint himself well and make sure to keep it in mind!

and adding onto that, something as far as mc leaning on his shoulder nearly makes him EXPLODE. He’s gripping his knees and his face is heating up as he tries to be as still as possible, really it’s hard to not mistaken him for levi, but his feelings for them combined with his anxiety of making a mistake that makes mc never touch him again mix together, so he goes so stiff. He’d understand that doing stuff as simple as that is a big step up in trust and so in turn he’s acting as if this is the craziest step forward in their relationship EVER. once mc also gets comfortable with bigger things, like hugging onto him, holding hands, casually touching each other when sitting, lighthearted pats and smacks, ect. He starts to go back to his usual body language, and honestly I feel it would make him a lot clingier.

i have seen a lot of other people say that they imagine mammon just suddenly being so flustered over tiny things once he’s actually with someone he likes, and I am a firm believer in it lowkey. like, you think that even though he’s been with and flirted with many people in the past he’s super flustered and gets super shy about mc doing something as tiny as offering him a tissue?? I agree, we’re best friends now.

(also he would TOTALLY fight off anyone getting too close to mc, whether it’s intentional or not he’d be so protective. All like “oi back up a little bit” his pookie NEEDS personal space and he’ll make sure they get it)

[spacesquidlings]

Cute

Curses should not have been all fun and games, and yet the cat curse afflicting Sylus was more delightful than she wanted to admit out loud. So delightful that she couldn't help taking as many pictures as she could to remember it, capturing snapshots of all of his cutest moments. Until he catches her.

Pairing: Sylus x MC Tags: Fluff, established relationship, yes cat caretaker event Notes: Who would have thought my first ever Sylus fic would be related to the most recent event! In my defence his ears look soft and I'm only a woman

“What did you just do?”

She scurried backwards as a furry tail whipped towards her, nearly knocking her phone from her hand as the flash flared.

“Hey! You just ruined my picture.” Stars flickered at the corners of her vision as she tucked her phone against her heart, away from the snap of Sylus’ tail.

She pouted, scowling at him. It was an effort to keep up the expression, his soft ears twitching as he tried staring her down, his tail swaying like it might launch another attack. “You ruined my picture! It’s going to be all blurry now.”

Ever since he’d been cursed, Sylus had been acting different. He was still himself, without question, but there were tiny shifts that she never would have noticed if she hadn’t already known him. He was sleeping more, tucking himself into odd corners and spaces where he would usually sprawl out. He still roused at night, but often not until the sun had fully set and a chill clung to the air.

She would be shivering, wishing for a warm blanket and her mind already half-asleep, and he would be up, his vermillion eyes bright like starlight shimmering through rubies. She would be trying to lie down, to rest for just a little, and he would be rousing her. She would close her eyes for less than a few minutes, and he would be up, grumbling until she gave up on any hope of sleep.

She was pretty sure he had started making biscuits, too, although the look he had given her when she’d first seen it had been half-plea and half-warning not to pry. His tail flicking dangerously, his ears drooping just the tiniest bit. It was enough to make her heart ache, and so she had hurried away.

He’d become clingier too, which wasn’t something she’d thought was possible. There was almost always a text from him waiting on her phone, or he was calling her to ask about dinner plans, or he was at her door with her favourite takeout in one hand, the other waiting for her to take it, and let him steal her away into the night.

But now it was like he wanted to crawl into her skin, like he had become her second shadow. If he wasn’t asleep he was close at hand, toying with the ends of her hair or poking at her plate when she was eating or nestling up against her when he decided it was time for another nap.

She often found she was suppressing her giggles, delighted by these strange new quirks of his. She wanted to capture the memories of it all before the curse was lifted and he went back to pretending he didn’t like having his head rubbed.

Her phone’s camera was filled with photos of him staring out the window at birds flitting by. Curling up into tight balls in the corner of the couch while he napped. Eyes closed in rapture as she scratched his ears.

But it was not five minutes earlier that she’d been caught in the act, trying to sneak up behind him while he batted at the tassels hanging from the curtains in her living room. It had happened in less than a second. One minute she was lifting her phone, finger on the button. Then an ear twitch, a tilt of his head that had his eyes catching hers.

And now they were here, her photo ruined, his tail lashing out to catch her and drag her close. She barely had a moment to retreat further, hiding behind the couch. He wouldn’t be able to reach her unless he climbed over it, so she was safe.

For now.

Sylus frowned, arms crossed over his broad chest as he levelled a glare at her. “What did you just take a photo of, kitten?”

That was another thing. He had become much grouchier since waking up with cat ears and a tail. Scowling, almost on the verge of pouting some days, getting irritated when he didn’t get his way. She noticed it most when they went out together, and he had a scowl levelled at anyone who got too close to her. Or when she came back from work, and he glowered while dragging her into his arms, nose wrinkling until he was satisfied she only smelled like him.

“I didn’t take a photo of anything,” she grumbled, levelling a glare right back at him. “You interrupted me before I could!”

He cocked his head to the side, a predator sizing up its prey. It would have been unnerving if not for the twitch of his ears and tail, so soft and fluffy she wanted to reach out and run her fingers over them.

“And what were you trying to take a picture of, kitten?”

His query reeled her from her thoughts. She smirked, holding her phone a little tighter. “Shouldn’t you be the kitty now? You’re the one with the ears and tail.”

He hummed, his tail swaying. “I’m not the one who gets up to all kinds of mischief when someone’s back is turned, sweetie.”

Said the man who’d knocked over her lego flowers when she’d stopped rubbing his ears for five seconds.

“And you didn’t answer my question.” His brow arched, tail flicking faster from side-to-side. “What were you trying to take a picture of?”

“I was trying to take a picture of you,” she grumbled, giving him a pout. “You looked so cute.”

His brow arched higher. “And how many of those have you taken?”

“It doesn’t matter,” she huffed. She took another step back without thinking, her knuckles white from the grip on her phone. “You were cute and I want to remember it.”

“Why? Are you planning to leave me when the curse is finally lifted?”

“What?” She blinked. “No, not at all.”

His ears twitched. “Then delete the photos. You don’t need to remember me when I’m with you every day. I don’t intend on running off like a common house-cat would.”

“Weren’t you the one that said you’d betray me at any time?” Running away seemed like a type of betrayal.

He sighed, tilting his head back to peer at her with half-lidded eyes. “Maybe you’ve domesticated me.”

“Clearly not enough.”

A line formed between his brows as he closed his eyes. “Delete the photos.”

She took a step back, shaking her head. “No! I want to remember all your cute moments while you’re still a kitty.”

When his eyes opened she realized how much trouble she was in. The corners of his eyes narrowed, his lips slowly curling up into a feline grin. She tried to take another step away, her back colliding with the wall.

When had she backed up so far? And why was he so close?

As she had tried to retreat, Sylus had been following closely. He’d already rounded the couch, his ruby eyes glimmering with a devilish sheen that promised trouble.

“Delete the pictures, kitten.”

“But I don’t want to.” She used her final weapon in her arsenal, pushing out her bottom lip into the most spectacular pout she could muster. “Won’t you be a good kitty and let me keep them?”

“I think we both know I’m not a good cat.” Another step, the distance between them closing. “And if you don’t delete them, I’ll have to hunt you down like the bad cat that I am.”

Oh absolutely not. She was going to print these and put them in a scrapbook.

She turned to run, the hallway that led to the front door barely a few steps away. And then she made it all of three steps before strong arms were wrapping around her middle, yanking her backwards and crushing her against the solidness of his chest.

“Nice try.” His voice rumbled in his chest, the reverberations sending goosebumps racing across her skin. “I guess a cat like me is quicker than a little kitten.”

“Only when they’re being mischievous,” she groused. He’d caught her so easily, she was a little disappointed; he could have at least let her get partway down the hall before snatching her up.

“Mischievous?” His voice was a warm sigh, sparks flaring along her nerves and down her spine.

“Yes! Mischievous. You grabbed me just like a bird flying by, all so you can steal my phone.”

Sylus hummed, the sound vibrating in the hollows of her bones. It reminded her of a purr, a warm rumbling that spread to the tips of her fingers and toes. “I think I’ve been much more gentle than I was with that bird.”

“Have you?” Her voice wobbled. “You’re holding me pretty tight. I think you bruised my sides for sure.” 

He snorted, not loosening his hold in the least. “I’m making sure my house-cat doesn’t run away.”

The heat of his breath fanned over the back of her neck before she had a chance to respond, making her go quiet. He was still humming, but the rumble in his chest felt stronger, a tenor harmony that carried the tuneless melody in his voice.

She felt the tip of his nose, gently at first, running over the top of her head, his breath tangling in the strands of her hair. Down to the nape of her neck, ghosting over her skin until she shivered again. Her pulse stuttered, like the stumbling of feet in a dance she was still only learning.

Her breath stuttered out of her, each inhale making her mind more clouded, each exhale making her a little more breathless.

“House-cat?” She did her best to dredge up any ire, any petulance. “So now I’m a housecat?”

She ignored how he had emphasised ‘my,’ knowing full well it would make her lose her senses entirely. Already there was a riot of wings racing through her chest and belly, her heart’s beat no longer a steady rhythm she could rely on.

“You’re certainly not a wild one.” His breath tickled her ear as he ran his nose over the side of her head. “Although you’re not very obedient.”

“Cats rarely are.”

Her eyes fell closed as she felt his lips brush against the shell of her ear, his voice reverberating deep into the hollows of her bones. “Does that mean you really will run away?”

“No.” He chuckled at her answer; she hadn’t meant to emphasise it so hard. But the question had jabbed her like a needle, and she felt defensive.

“Unless you want me to,” she added, lowering her head.

His response was instantaneous, a tightening of his arms that held her so close she could feel each beat of his heart.

“Does anything I’m doing suggest I want you to run away?” He was smiling against her ear, pressing kisses to her flushed skin.

“You only grabbed me because you wanted to delete the pictures.”

Another chuckle, the reverberations twinning with the pleasant rumble coming from his chest. He slid his nose down further, heated lips dragging over her skin as he drawled: “thaaat’s right. The pictures.”

When he reached her throat he nuzzled his face against her skin, against where her pulse thrummed. Her breath caught, lungs constricting in surprise as a shiver raced through her like lightning strikes. If he had not been holding her up she would have fallen over, her legs betraying her with how weak they became.

He rubbed his face against where her pulse thrummed, his hair and ears tickling her with their softness. She closed her eyes again, content with his closeness and warmth, even knowing that he was very much still teasing her. It was how he was holding her, how he sighed so softly in between rumbling purrs that made her heart ache. If he asked her to delete the photos now she didn’t think she would put up much of a fight.

“You’re going to make it up to me if you want to keep those pictures, kitten.”

He didn’t sound particularly menacing, his words soft as feather down, his voice warm as a summer night.

She leaned back into his arms, nestled so comfortably she could have stayed there for ages. “Careful. You’re being cute again. You might make me think you really are my kitty cat.”

She felt his inhale, his nose pressed against her throat. “I’ve been called a lot of things, but ‘cute’ has never been one of them.”

“Well there’s a first time for everything.”

The rumble of his laughter tickled her skin, a flurry of goosebumps flaring across her skin in response. His nose bumped against her throat, his arms tightening as he nuzzled his face against her skin. His hair tickled too, soft edges like feathers as they brushed against her jaw. One of his ears smacked against her cheek, and she couldn’t help wondering if it had been intentional.

“Is that all you want me for? Being cute?”

Again she felt that instinct to act defensively; no she did not only want him for being cute. It’s not like he had been cute when they’d met.

“No,” again spoken with too much emphasis. But this time she didn’t care, even as she felt his widening smile against her neck. “Why do you keep saying things like that, Sylus?”

“Maybe I just like to see how you’ll react,” he said. She shivered again as he continued rubbing his face into her neck.

“Well, was my reaction good enough for you?” 

He chuckled. “It was very good, sweetie. It told me everything I need to know.”

Heat crawled across her face, and she glared at the far wall as the heat of his breath washed over her skin, her nerves fizzing like sparklers in the night. Gossamer wings fluttered in her chest, her stupid heart betraying her.

“Good enough to let me keep those cute photos?”

Again he laughed, cold air swooping in like a bird of prey as he drew back. She shivered from the cold, wishing in the back of her mind that he would press his face against her.

“It’s not like you’ve left me with much of a choice, kitten.” His lips brushed against the shell of her ear, and she allowed herself a small smile as his warmth leached into her skin. “You can keep the photos.”

She grinned wider, utterly shameless. In the euphoria of her victory she managed to spin around in his arms, phone camera pointed up at him as she sang “smile!”

And Sylus did smile. A devious grin that promised nothing but trouble. But he smiled, letting her capture as many photos as she wanted while she giggled, her delight making her silly and carefree.

“Are you happy?” He asked, amusement lacing his tone as he tracked her movements with keen eyes.

“Very.” She couldn’t help herself, reaching up to give his cheek a pinch. “Now I’ll have lots of photos to remember when you were a cute kitty.”

Sylus sighed, but did not push her hand away. “I still don’t think being cute suits me.”

“I do!” She chirped. She gave his cheek another pinch, then patted it gently as he smirked. “You’re many things, Sylus. And cute is absolutely one of them.”

He chuckled, catching her hand before she could pull it away. “Is that so?”

“Yes.” She smiled wider, bubbling gold in her veins. What else did she call the crinkle at the corners of his eyes when he was happy? Of the roguish curve of his lips as he smiled? Or the way he held her hand close to his lips, thumb rubbing circles against the back of her hand?

Sighing again, he brushed a kiss to her knuckles. “You’re so spoiled, kitten.” He lowered his head, his tail swaying slowly, the ruby of his eyes bright with mirth. “Only you can see this side of me, and get away with calling me cute, my lady.”

She could have sworn she felt a rumble in his chest, a quiet reverberation she could feel in her heart.

“I guess I’ll need to work on being cuter,” he continued. His words should have sounded chagrined, and yet he only sounded amused, his eyes dancing. “So you’ll give me all your attention, instead of those photos.”

She smiled, his rumbling purrs as warm as his words. “I look forward to it.”

[marauder-misprint]

Ahhh congrats on 200!!! For the prompt list requests could I get a fic with James x fem!reader for #95? I could just see him doing something so mundane like polishing his broom and she’s just drooling over his arms haha

My first James Potter for this account ♥︎ Thank you for the request and I hope you enjoy! (reader is a bit more gn! than fem! but I think it's implied enough?)

Broom Polish

James Potter x reader

1.1k words

cw: fluff

You had half a mind to open the window. The smell of the broom polish must be getting to you, you thought. You can’t stop staring at his arms. The way the muscles flex as he rubs the polish over his broom handle. He’s been at it for at least fifteen minutes and you’ve been unable to look away since he started. The book in your hands is long forgotten.

You and James were just hanging out. You had originally been hanging out with all of the boys, but each left to do something else, leaving you and James. Remus had prefect duties, Peter had study group and Sirius had detention. So you were on the window’s ledge, holding a book but not reading it, and James was on the floor, not too far from you, with his broom, a cloth and the pot of polish.

“You don’t have to stay, if you don’t want to,” James says, still working the polish into his broom’s handle. “They can’t stand the smell of the polish so I have to do this when they aren’t here.”

You swallow thickly. Your eyes flick up to his face and then back to his arms. “I, erm, don’t mind it.” Lies. The smell was enough to make you feel light headed. But maybe it was James’ arms. God, that made you feel pathetic. That you were even considering that idea. 

“Really?” James asks, looking up at you and noticing that you’re staring. “You don’t mind the smell?”

“It’s like how some people don’t mind the smell of petrol,” you say and then immediately remember that James won’t understand that, being pure blood. 

“Uh,” he says, not getting it. 

“Never mind. It’s a muggle thing,” you say quickly and offer him a smile, hoping he just goes back to polishing his broom and you can return to your not-so-discreet staring. 

While James does go back to work, he periodically looks up and sees you staring each time he does. He doesn’t even remember the last time he heard a page turn. It wasn’t like the dorm was loud with just the two of you. He should’ve heard pages turning. 

“Are you watching me?” he asks with a smirk.

“What? N-no. I’m not watching you.”

“Yes, you are.” The smirk widens into a grin. “You’re watching me.”

“I am not watching you,” you say more firmly.

“Is this really turning you on? I’m not doing anything.”

“Who said I was turned on?” You feel your face begin to heat.

“You did, when you denied watching me.”

“I-I am not…” He gives you an amused look. “Okay, fine. A bit. It’s not my fault you got nice arms.”

He sets down his broom and polish and looks down at his arms, as if trying to see what you meant. He flexes, relaxes and flexes again.

“Hmm, I suppose I do.” He looks at you again, the widest grin you’ve ever seen adorning his face. “You like my arms,” he says teasingly.

“I appreciate what Quidditch has done for them.”

“You like my arms.”

“Shut up, James.” Your blush is growing slightly as he doesn’t drop.

“But it only begs another question.”

You cross your arms and lean backwards. “What?”

“Do you like more than my arms?”

“Wha-what?” you stutter. 

“Do you like more than my arms?” he repeats. “Or, do you like more? Of me.”

You’re blushing furiously. “James, I-”

You’re cut off by him moving closer to you. You feel your breath hitch with him so close to you. 

“Do you?” he breathes. 

“I-”

He keeps moving closer. At this point, his face is only a few inches away from yours. You can smell his cologne, it finally breaking through the thick scent of polish. You could see the tiny flecks of gold and brown in his hazel eyes. You felt an urge to run your hand through his mess of hair, to move it away from his face. You don’t dare move though. 

“Do you like me?” he asks, sounding more serious this time, almost vulnerable and curious. “Do you like me as more than a friend?”

You’re having a hard enough time breathing that the thought of answering his questions is forgotten. Not that he had let you answer his last few questions. You try to take a deep breath. You can taste the broom polish in the air; it probably doesn’t help that it’s all over James’ hands and some of his clothes. 

“James, I-”

“Well, darling, do-” 

You muffle his voice with your hand over his mouth. 

“Would you let me answer?” you nearly snap.

He nods. He lets you keep your hand over his mouth, not attempting to lick or bite you as he might’ve if you had done this at any other time. You take another deep breath; your heart is pounding in your chest. You know your answer. Now that you have him quiet though, you’re having trouble getting the actual words out.

You’re not sure when it happened. When all the platonic touches didn’t feel so friendly. When you swore the stolen glances began to linger longer. When you started to feel your face soften when you looked at him. When you started to treasure the alone time you had with him more. When you started to wish that he would see you as more than a friend, because that’s how you were seeing me. 

“I do,” you whisper. Panic takes over your heart. “Like more than your arms.”

You feel him smile under your hand, which he slowly reaches up to remove. 

“Do you like me?” he asks, his voice just as quiet and sincere as yours.

You can’t lie to him now.

“Yes.”

“Oh thank Merlin.”

Your eyes are wide in surprise at his response. You weren’t expecting that. And you weren’t expecting him to lean forward just enough so your lips touched. It’s the gentlest of kisses, tainted only by the stench of broom polish. Maybe those stolen glances and lingering touches hadn’t been as one-sided as you had tried to convince yourself. 

When James pulls back, he’s smiling just as widely as before, but there’s something different. Maybe a more content look? More satisfied? More happy? You’re not entirely sure what your own face is doing as a reaction as you’re too focused on trying to read his. 

“Feel free to stare at my arms all you want, sweetheart,” he says smoothly. “As long as I can kiss you all I want.”

You nod, a smile coming to your face. 

“Please,” you say encouragingly.

Then you lean in and kiss him. It’s a bit more forceful than when he kissed you, but you know it’s welcomed. And you know that you’ll be getting more time alone with James in the near future. 

[fleamontshole]

⠀ ⠀VIRIDITY - JEGULUS

Teacher au !! ⠀⠀⠀⠀[ 5 chapters available ]⠀⠀⠀❀(*´▽`*)❀⠀ @fleamontshole on ao3 <3 ps: contains ships other than jegulus. (Written from a gerenal perspective)

⏜ ࣪⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

my new account, by the way !! ˙˚ʚ(´◡`)ɞ˚˙

Today was the start of Harry's first year of kindergarten, and calling him excited wouldn't even come close to describing it. From the second he woke up, he was bouncing off the walls like a pinball, his messy hair sticking up in every direction and his eyes practically glowing with excitement. He wouldn't stop talking about everything he thought was going to happen-making new friends, playing on the swings, and using the "coolest crayons ever" to draw pictures. He was so hyped up that James could barely keep him still long enough to get him ready.

Trying to button Harry's tiny shirt was like trying to dress a hyperactive puppy. Harry couldn't stand still, hopping from foot to foot like the floor was made of lava. When James tried to get his sneakers on, Harry ran circles around the couch, giggling like it was the funniest thing in the world. It wasn't until he tripped over the laces and tumbled onto the carpet, still laughing, that James could finally grab him long enough to finish the job.

The living room was a total mess-Harry's too-big backpack sat slumped by the door, lunchbox peeking out of the top, and one of his socks had somehow ended up on the TV stand. James sighed, rubbing his temples as Harry zipped around, chattering about what his first day would be like. Honestly, it was exhausting, but James couldn't help but smile. Watching Harry's excitement was kind of contagious. Even if it felt like total chaos, there was something special about this morning, something James wouldn't trade for anything.

In James' defense, being a single father wasn't exactly easy. Mornings like this-full of chaos, noise, and endless energy-could wear him out before the day even began. Sometimes, he felt like he was barely holding it all together, balancing work, bills, and being both mom and dad to Harry. But despite the challenges, he wouldn't trade it for the world. Every laugh, every hug, and every goofy moment made it all worth it.

As exhausting as Harry could be, James couldn't help but love his son's boundless enthusiasm. Watching him run around the living room, too excited to sit still for more than a second, James smiled to himself. Harry might be a handful, but he was James' handful, and there was nothing in the world more important to him than making sure Harry had the best possible start to his first day of school.

"Harry, come here and let me put your shoes on!"

James called out from Harry's room, holding the tiny sneakers in one hand while trying to keep his patience. He could already hear the sound of little feet thundering down the hallway, followed by the slam of the kitchen door.

"Harry!" James called again, his voice tinged with frustration as he stood up and followed the trail of giggles echoing through the house. By the time he reached the kitchen, Harry was already at the counter, stretching on his tiptoes to reach the cereal box. His backpack was dangling awkwardly off one shoulder, and his shirt was half-tucked into his pants, making him look more like a whirlwind who just got out of bed and still in a daze than a kindergartner ready for his big day.

James sighed and set the shoes on the floor, crossing his arms as he leaned against the doorway. "You know you're not going anywhere without shoes, right?" he said, trying to hide his smile as Harry turned around, his face lit up like a ray of sunshine.

"Hmph... Fine," Harry agreed reluctantly, his face scrunching up in the way only a child could do when they were agreeing to something they didn't want to do. His small feet shuffled across the kitchen floor, moving like he was walking through syrup, dragging his backpack behind him in a way that made it look like it was almost too big for him.

James, still standing in the doorway, watched his son's reluctant march toward him. He couldn't help but let out a small sigh of relief. The chaos that had been their morning was finally starting to settle down, though just a little. Harry had a way of turning even the simplest tasks into an adventure, which, more often than not, made it feel like they were running in circles. But now, seeing his son finally taking those tiny steps toward him, James felt like he could breathe for just a second.

[nostalgiclittlespace]

May I request CG!Angel with a newborn reader who is struggling to get them down for a nap? He tries everything but they just won’t settle.

I cannot thank you enough for your patience on this. I hope you enjoy! And I promise y’all requests will start coming out a lot faster now!

Pairing: Caregiver!Angel & Little!reader

Title: Soft Spider, Sleepy Baby

Description: Angel has tried everything in the book, but his Little just won’t take their long overdue nap. He hates feeling so helpless, but maybe he’s better at this than he thinks.

Word count: 921

Soft Spider, Sleepy Baby

Putting a newborn regressor down for a nap will be the easiest thing I’ve ever done! Angel had once thought.  Emphasis on once, because from the very first time he ever put you, his precious little one, down to sleep, he realized just how difficult it could actually be.

No matter how many routines he tried, nothing would consistently work.  Lullabies, rocking chairs, bottles, being held—nothing!  It was as if Hell had found another way to play a cruel joke on him.

That wasn’t to say he didn’t enjoy taking care of his little one.  They were genuinely the sweetest, greatest thing that had happened to him, really!  He was a great Caregiver too!  But when nap time came around, when they were exhausted but unable to sleep, he couldn’t help but wonder what on earth he was doing wrong.

Hence how he found himself in his current predicament.

By now it was late afternoon; Hell’s scarlet Sun had begun to set, casting mahogany glows through the windows, enveloping the tiny nursery he had set up for you in the Hazbin Hotel.  The bottle on his dresser sat empty, but your soft, sleepless whines seemed to mock him; the warm milk hadn’t eased the Little to sleep.  Since it had been finished an hour ago, Angel had been attempting soothing motions in the rocking chair.  He had tried pacifiers numerous times too, but all three had been miserably thrown across the room in a surprising show of protest that was consistently followed by crying.

“It’s okay, baby, shhhhh,” Angel hummed, rubbing his soft finger over his baby’s cheek.  His patience was nowhere near gone, rather, hopelessness was beginning to creep in.

What am I doing wrong? Why won’t they take their nap? he thought nervously.  Yes, they commonly fought sleep, but when they were so clearly exhausted?  Is it my fault?

Sighing, Angel adjusted his grip on the Little, carefully gathering them into his four arms.  He muttered soft reassurances as he rose out of the rocking chair, officially giving up on that method.  Instead, he shifted his weight between his feet, a different soothing, almost swinging motion.  His Little whined as he moved, frustrated coos still arguing against their imposed bedtime.

Music?  No, he had tried that.

A calm movie? historically that made things worse.

A walk?…

Well it couldn’t hurt to try.  They didn’t even need to leave the Hotel; just wandering around the many corridors and enjoying a change of scenery might help.  And trying something new was certainly better than doing something unproductive again and again.

So, he hitched you in his arms again and made for the door, carefully sidestepping all the stuffed animals that had been strewn across the playroom floor.  The cries had not slowed, miserably whines pressed into his furry chest that made his heart ache.

As he emerged into the empty hallway, the sunset light met candelabras glow.  The muted lighting was relaxing, the silence surrounding them even more so.  Taking a deep breath, Angel began slowly ambling down the hall.

Maybe Charlie will have some ideas, he thought solemnly as his feet carried him and his baby towards the Hazbin Hotel’s foyer.  He had done everything he could possibly think of, and his Little was about as close to sleep as he was to redemption!

“I’m sorry, toots,” he muttered as the baby huffed quietly in his arms.  “I know you’re tired, and we’ll get you to sleep soon, I promise.”

Soon, they arrived in the lobby.  Like the rest of the Hotel, it was fairly quiet.  Husk silently moped as he manned the bar, Alastor and Niffty were nowhere in sight, and Charlie laid across the couch with a sketchbook in hand, hummin cheerfully to herself.  He approached her, utterly defeated.

“Hey, Charlie,” Angel greeted, his New York accent as heavy as his tone.

“Oh, Hi, Angel! Aw, is it someone’s nap time?” the princess gushed, smiling widely at the bundle in his arms.

“Yeah, that’s what I wanted your help with,” Angel sighed.  “No matter what I do, they just won’t settle.  And I’ve tried everything!  Do you have any ideas?  Any at all?”

Charlie’s head quirked to the side, her eyebrows raised in surprise as she processed his words.  “But, they’re already asleep, Angel?” she remarked, confused.

Angel’s eyes widened slightly, he himself surprised by the assessment, and he tipped his head downward to see for himself.  Indeed, they had gone completely limp in his arms, chest heaving soft and slow breaths.  Their thumb had found their parted lips, eyes had fluttered shut.  They really were asleep!

“Since when?” he exclaimed in a whisper.  “I’ve been trying to get them to sleep for an hour; music, bottles, pacifiers, stuffies!  And the moment I walk downstairs, they finally give in?”

“Maybe you were doubting yourself a little too much,” Charlie suggested thoughtfully.  “They didn’t want toys or blankets.  They just wanted you.”

Angel stood there for a long moment, expression blank as he processed what that meant.  Was Charlie right?  Maybe all the comfort items in the world wouldn’t do a thing if he didn’t hold them this close?

Glancing down at his Little’s relaxed expression, all traces fo distress disappeared from their face, he slowly accepted that answer.

“I guess so,” he huffed a small grin.  “I’m glad they finally fell asleep.  I can’t stand seeing them so miserable and worn out.”

“And now they’ll have plenty of energy for later,” Charlie chirped.

“Oh, yeah, they will.”

[extrashortshorts]

Tiny and Stupid

[icewindandboringhorror]

boy in silly sitting positions compilation