The Sundered Houses gathering according to the tables: They're planning something that might put the entire city in danger! They have a ritual and there's going to be casualties and sacrifices! We need to be ready for complete fallout!
The Sundered Houses gathering in reality: Hey, Primus? This is an intervention. What the fuck are you and your family doing?
Hiii!! Would you consider writing something red leader x reader please? I dont have anything specific in mind, maybe yandere? Just excited to see another person writing for the boys! Regardless, thank you so much and I hope ur day is amazing <3
Rest
Hi anon!! Ahhhhhh I’m sorry this is so late, I’ve been mega busy with schoolwork and life in general, but I finally had time to write something short! Sadly I don’t do yanderes, but here’s some Red Leader fluff, I hope you enjoy!
He tries to keep his hand as steady as possible. Your head weighs heavy on his wrist but this is still better than if it met the hard walnut tabletop in front of you. Tord barely caught it, your drooping face, and he’d reached out before he thought much about it. Now he sits at the most awkward angle, bent into your direction with his flesh hand floating in midair between your cheek and his desk.
You’re drooling into his palm, neck bent in a way that promises a painful cramp any minute now. A decision has to be made if he wants to use his hand again. He could finish his reading with you napping on him – his desk chair is spacious enough – but he has to get you into a safe position in his lap first.
When he starts pulling his hand in the direction of his chest, you snore into the quiet of his office and he startles so violently that he almost drops your head. It’s quite impressive how deeply you have fallen asleep within such a short time frame, but then again he knows you’ve been working harder than is healthy, short nights and long days sacrificed to the very mission he is reading for approval right now. And you did such a good job with it.
Tord hooks his other arm around your waist, securing you with his hand safely spread over your belly. Then he pulls, trying to drag you over, and for a moment he thinks his spine might snap. This is not the angle he should lift you in, but his choices are limited. With a deep inhale he heaves you into his lap, exerting all the strength he can conjure into his arms. He huffs out the deep breath he took once you settle, falling slack against his upper body. If this won’t convince you to finally get some rest and take a break, then it will be a Red Leader order next.
A sigh tickles his neck then, and for a moment he thinks you’ve woken. But instead, you burrow deep into his chest, nuzzling for a moment before you release another snore. The angle is still awkward and he pulls you upwards until your cheek rests safely atop his shoulder. Your legs are swung over his and he repositions you until you’re secure within the confines of his desk chair, feet dangling over the armrest.
Only when Tord feels your even exhales tickling his neck does he pick up the mission statement again. But as he tries to regain his focus, his gaze is weary and he can’t quite read the words. Your sleepiness seems catching and with your soft body atop his like the world’s most precious weighted blanket, he finds it easy to give into temptation. Perhaps he can rest his eyes for a moment as well, just a few minutes.
Omg hi i saw ur last repost (the one who's prompt was like how would each of the guys would react to you saying "hey, can you hold this for me for a minute?" and then just putting your hand in theirs) can you do that for edd, tom, Matt n tord plsplspls🙏🙏🙏 ty!!
Hey, so sorry it took me a while to get to this, but I hope you enjoy it! :,) no tord cuz im going to save him for a longer fic (with this same prompt), as someone also requested one with him and I decided I’d put the two requests together! Hope that’s ok :)
On that note: This is around 1,8k words combined/overall total! Averaging 500 or so words for each one? Hopefully that's enough :)
HOLD MY HAND! With Edd, Matt, and Tom
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EDD
“How big is your attic…?”
“Uh, normal-sized? Why?”
It was not, in fact, normal.
Edd sought you out one fine and sunny morning to help him tidy up the attic, considering that everyone else is out or busy. You’ve liked him for quite a while now, so how could you say no to such an opportune moment? What you didn’t expect was the unconventional contents you’d find in the mess and the sheer mass of them.
You watch as Edd rummages through the piles, seemingly looking for something. He throws items behind him. A few of them being a literal skull, a hamburger, and one of the many photoframes of Matt in a certain angle.
“What are we looking for exactly?”
“I had an old sketchbook I never used. I hid it in the attic for the one day I might use it but then Eduardo and I got powers, we fought, and amidst it all, messed up the attic.”
“What?” You pause. Surely, this must be one elaborate joke he’s setting up. You look up at him to make sure. He looks sincere but ultimately so casual about it like said shenanigans are the norm in their household.
“I know. It’s crazy, right? I mean, why would he drag the attic into it?” Oh, he’s dead serious. You opted to not comment nor reply and instead, simply continued to scavenge alongside him.
An hour has possibly passed and you both have only cleared out one section of the room, yet there’s still no sight of the aforementioned sketchbook. You’re both huddled in the corner, sitting amongst the piles of trinkets and memorabilia in a shared fatigue.
“Wow. We're never finding it.” Edd chokes out a sheepish laugh, slumping. “Sorry for dragging you into this. Seems like I wasted an hour or something in your life.”
Now, this isn't exactly the most appropriate time to be thinking about it, but the sun has descended at a very specific angle that basks him in a warm hue. His cheeks are flushed slightly red and he's got the cutest grin plastered on him right now. It would be criminal if you didn't at least try to cheer him up right now.
“No, definitely not. In fact…” You paw at a random space in piles, pretending to look through them. Edd seems to shuffle closer, hovering and trying to figure out what you're trying to do exactly.
You turn around to face him, holding your empty hand out. “Here, can you hold this?”
He blinks. “There's nothing there.”
“Exactly. I'm offering you a helping hand.”
It's pure silence, before his face twists into genuine amusement. “Pfft.”
“What? No loud ‘Hahaha'? No standing ovation?”
“It was pretty terrible.”
You scoff, feigning offence. “That's a lot coming from you!”
You're about to pull your hand away, but Edd intertwines it with his just in time. You look up immediately with wide eyes as Edd stares back with a soft smile and knowing eyes.
“Don't worry, in jokes, terrible is basically equivalent to perfect. You really know the way into my heart.” Edd snickers, as if that sentence alone didn't make your heart skip beat in milliseconds.
You don't notice how the door to the attic was left slightly ajar, letting the rest of the boys catch a peek of your shared moment before they sneak away.
“Why didn't he ask us for help? We were just out getting gas–” Matt whispers when they're out of earshot.
“Please, he probably wasn't even looking for actual help in the first place.” Tord snorts.
Whether it was luck or suave, strategic planning on Edd's end, the boys couldn't tell, but what they do know is that the sketchbook ‘of utmost importance’ had been long forgotten afterwards, replaced with the comforts of Edd and his presence like it was meant to be.
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TOM (Established relationship)
“Jeez, it’s freezing.” Tom grumbles through gritted teeth, rubbing his hands together like a simple housefly.
It was the first week of December. By cruel coincidence, according to their ‘chore’ rotation at the house, It was Tom’s turn to head out and buy groceries for the entire gang. Tom took the liberty to take his partner with him.
“It’s so you can suffer with me.” He said, dragging you out and towards the nearest grocery market. ‘Nearest’ being at least 30 minutes away by foot due to the fact that the car they share as a group is in repairs. Well, that wouldn’t have been the case if Edd knew how to parallel park.
Tom loathed December, not only for Christmas, but for how inconvenient the weather is. Not even his usual blue hoodie could fight against the raging power of zero-degree weather.
“We could buy you some gloves.” You nodded towards one of the aisles as you both entered the grocery. Tom continues to shove his hands into his pockets, shivering slightly as the cool, air-condition breeze greeted him.
“I had gloves, but Tord hid them.”
“Are you sure it was him?”
“Who else would love to make my life unbearable?” It was a common habit for Tom to blame Tord for any inconvenience in his life– Partly in jest, and other times, in total seriousness– but, truthfully, Tom couldn’t care about who or what has responsibility over his misery right now.
“Well, can you hold this for me? Just for a minute.” You instead asked as you picked out some cans from the shelves while Tom held a basket in his other hand.
“Yeah, sure, whatever.”
It was warm. Familiar– Like how it would feel to loiter on his bed, wrapping a blanket over his shivering body and relishing in the smell of its cotton. It’s like all sense of crisp chill in his body left the moment he grasped whatever it was he’s holding.
Tom began to furrow his eyebrows together as they circled different aisles. ‘I still need a carton of milk, some bacon but not the brand with the green text–’
You stared at him as he’s deep in his contemplation. It’s been 10 or 15 minutes since you’ve slipped your hand in his. Tom doesn’t even notice how he squeezes it from time to time like a stress ball when he’s trying to recall which specific facial cream Matt asked him to buy at Aisle 7.
This continues even when you’re past the cashier. By the time you’ve reached the doors of the mart, you think Tom still hasn’t noticed until he looks down. Others may mistake that flat, assessing look for indifference or boredom, but you see how the tip of his ears and nose go red, and it’s certainly not from the cold.
“Real smooth of you.” He murmurs.
“I figured it would warm you up.”
You don’t miss how the sides of his lips quirk up, ever so slightly. Then, he gives your hand three squeezes, like a finality that ends the trip on a good note. Even on the walk home, he doesn't let go, and suddenly, the Winter season doesn’t seem so bleak anymore.
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MATT (Established relationship)
“I’m telling you, it has to be that man in a yellow hat! He’s the killer!”
“No way. He was in the kitchen, he has an alibi! It’s gotta be the purple guy.”
Movie nights with Matt were fun, especially if it came with a little bet. Thursday nights are often reserved for Mysteries and Thrillers where the both of you were snuggled, sides pressed together on the couch with the typical bowl of popcorn in one hand and some drinks on the other.
“--Oh! Okay, if I’m right, you have to hold my hand!”
“Well, I propose… that–” Matt says slowly, looking around the room as if scouting for some kind of leverage to use on you. You can see the exact moment the invisible light-bulb above his head lights up.
“Is that supposed to be a bad thing?” You snort.
“It’s supposed to be a consequence. If you win, then.. Well, I’m at your mercy!”
Matt glances at the bottom right, eyeing the remaining time left for the movie. They were already 30 minutes in and every second felt excruciatingly painful on his end. At some point, Matt simply stopped paying attention for good, opting to daydream about how good it would feel once he gets to clasp his hands onto your own.
“Come on, Matt. You lost.” You say, shifting around to face him.
The movie was decent, mayhaps, a little predictable on your end as the Purple guy ended up being the culprit. Matt spent at least a good 5 minutes gawking at the credits before waving his arms around, trying to come up with some flimsy arguments as to why the movie was wrong and that he totally won–
“Nonsense. Honestly, I think I was a little misguided that’s all, and besides, I had pretty good suspicions and intuition, it just so happen to be slightly misplaced–”
“Hey, can you hold this for me?”
You let him continue his tangent– After all, he has a fairly lovely voice– but primarily do so to catch him by surprise. It was the one thing everyone in the group knew about Matt: When he’s focused and totally zoned in, he lacks awareness for anything else, as if tunnel visioning with fervent passion.
“Yes, of course–” He holds his hand out, “Anyway, back to what I was saying…”
“I was hoping you’d do that!” He laughs, running his thumb over your knuckles. “I knew it. You would never have passed on an opportunity to hold my hand.”
You put your hand on his, giving it a slight squeeze and it’s as if you’ve snapped him out of a trance. Matt blinks once, then twice, before his expression breaks into one equivalent of pure glee. His grin stretches wide, as he tugs you closer.
Matt moves your arm closer before pressing a firm peck on the back of your hand, all while staring into your eyes with an easy confidence screaming that he knows you don’t mean it. He may not be a super sleuth of some kind, but he certainly knows how to navigate the mysteries of your own heart like breathing.
“Don’t let it get to your head. I could revoke your hand-holding rights in this instance.”
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