#he's so beautiful in my mind but i can't do him justice yet

[ozymandien]

general ouyang no first name

[0luv9]

forlorn || mattheo riddle

Summary: based on this request.

Beware: angst, fluff, slightly aged-up characters, Hufflepuff reader, sweet reader, she/her pronouns used, mostly in second person, jealousy, mistreatment, a little bit of blood, slightly commanding(?) and intimidating Mattheo.

Words: 7.8k (not beta read)

Note: I am sorry luv, I don't think I did justice to the request. I also apologize for taking so long. I still hope you like it, even if it's just a bit. @cat-loves-music

Mattheo Riddle, son of Voldemort, or Tom Riddle if you will—for a more humane approach. But then, there's no humanity in the way he's treated. Always an outsider, always a monster.

There is wealth to his name; after all, he is the only living heir of Salazar Slytherin. However, his blood is corrupt, shunned by the very people who kissed the steps his baby feet took. Looked down on by the blood supremacists and not accepted by the other side, the "good side."

Even he was tired of the same sob story. He doesn't even need to introduce himself; they already have a preconceived image of him in their minds. He could try to fix his image in an ideal world, but even then, what would he say?

'Hello, everyone, I'm Mattheo Riddle, son of the man who once threatened your lives. Please welcome me with warm hands.'

Too cliché? Yes, but it's true and the only truth he knew.

Riddle didn't even know why the name Riddle was cursed and didn't know what his father did that made everyone's hate transcend generations. What made their hatred justified and his hate a crime? He didn't know until it was too late.

Mattheo was raised by the only living relative of his, his mother's aunt—the one who died recently. The one who kept all this hidden away from him hid all the Hogwarts' letters, raised him like her own, and protected him until her last breath. She loved him but all within the vicinity of the manor. He didn't know the world that existed beyond those walls.

He knew about the world outside only through the books she'd let him read. He thought it would feel liberating to step off the lavish floors onto the rich earth. It was everything but that.

"But Nona, why can't I go outside?" he remembers asking that silly question when he was about nine. What he wouldn't do to get that naivety back.

"Because, my dear, there are people out there who wouldn't like you. There are bad people outside ready to punish you," he also remembers crying when she told him that. He didn't understand why people would hate him. He just wanted to try the chocolate frogs he read about.

He just wanted to talk to all the different animals out there, the same way he could talk to the garden snakes.

"But I didn't do anything wrong, Nona. Tell them that I'm a good boy. I can even give them some of my toys. Will they like me then?" If only it were that easy. His Nona cried for the first time in front of him then, looking at all the toys he had set onto her lap, looking at her with teary eyes, pleading, "I didn't do anything wrong, Nona, I promise."

Mattheo didn't understand her tears back then, but now as he stands all alone, those same tears fall out his eyes. It's useless. "They'll know that someday, moon pie. You aren't wrong. They'll know." They'll know? What a fucking joke.

Mattheo tries to enjoy the view in front of him, you know. But how can he? When his batchmates are out there partying and enjoying life, he's been a lone wolf all his life. Yet in moments like this, he seems to forget his old ways of existing.

There's not much he can do anyway; he's not needed anywhere. In fact, they all want him gone. Finding beauty in small things is hard when misery clings to him. There's self-loathing in the way he thinks about the night and himself. There's nothing positive he can say.

You'd think that he must've gotten used to it all by now. No, he hasn't; it only got worse. At least little Mattheo held hope that people would understand someday or the other. Every bit of hope was destroyed by the very people who would've feared him had his father been alive. In moments like this, he wished he could see the man, live as the son they paint him as.

He'd have someone to lean onto then, someone to call his own. At least his father would've loved him. But this last bit of consolidation too was stolen away from him when he got to know that he was a backup plan for his father. Mattheo Riddle was not supposed to exist. His father wanted to live on forever; he was the last option the so-called Dark Lord had, to produce an heir and have them further his cause, and control his life as Tom lived on his last lifeline.

But all of it died with him. Mattheo promised himself that he would never be the man they all expected him to be, the man they wanted to point fingers at. So, he stayed in line. But then he thinks, sometimes, maybe, what if—you know?

He simply stares up at the brightly lit sky, it's a shame that he's the only one out there to appreciate the scenic beauty because he's physically and mentally incapable of appreciating anything, you can't blame him now, can you?

Cold breeze in mid-August, how fucking ridiculous just like this life of his, so unlike his peers, who were out there partying and having the time of their lives, the music vibrating through the walls was like salt on wounds. He'd like to drink a few and chat with his friends but then again, he hasn't got any. And it's the bitter truth that he's not welcome there, he'd be greeted with nasty looks if he tried to enter any such party, they'd all glance his way like the ominous thing he is. It's times like this when he really contemplates it.

Mattheo looks down from the height he's on, no one would care anyway, the fall will kill him, might just give it an actual try unlike those previous attempts- he's been a coward all his life, never ready to face the extremes of life but he has nothing to protect at the moment, he's come far too long, life was never going to be worth it.

He climbs over the railing onto the brick ledge, sitting down for a moment, to take it all in for the last time ever. Mattheo remembers all the whispers that followed him, the suspicious looks passed along the way, those words of disdain- at the same time the thoughts of a happy life enter his mind, it all feels unattainable, in fact, he's so far gone he can't even picture joy, all he sees is bright colours when he thinks of a happy life.

Mattheo had desperately sought relief all his life, but the pain only worsened with time, it's only reasonable to want to end this feeling of hopelessness. The weight of his family's legacy feels heavy on his shoulders. He slouches over and looks down once again, sighing as his eyes shift to the ring on his finger, the other Gaunt ring, he slowly removes it- a pathetic heir he is, he doesn't deserve it, couldn't live up to the name, disappointing both sides of the world.

Maybe they should have destroyed this along with his father's ring but apparently, his dear sweet Nona thought he could change their fate, change the course of history, change the Gaunt legacy for the better, fuck- he couldn't even try and change people's perception about him. Even in this sense, he's nothing like his predecessors, incapable of leaving a mark, of changing the world, be it for the better or the worse. He's just fucking worthless- he fiddles with the ring as he shifts a bit closer to the edge, ready to let go of it.

"Nice ring," he turns around startled, "Mattheo, isn't it?" not Riddle? He hadn't heard his own name in a long time, no one had directly addressed him in years let alone called him by his first name. It all feels foreign, he simply nods not knowing what to say. "Do you mind if I join you?" you don't wait for a response though and carefully bend and climb through the gaps between the two rails, settling down beside him. "Hi, I'm-" he doesn't hear it, he's too focused on your face, you were dolled up, for the party he thinks, but then why are you here of all places? Was this some kind of prank? He steals a glance back at the entrance and the seemingly empty hallway, to see if anyone is waiting for a reaction.

"You know you shouldn't sit so close to the edge, you might fall down," you grab his forearm urging him to move back, your hand feels warm on his skin, it feels unnatural, his hands are always cold. Even though it's on him for a couple of seconds he can't help the multiple emotions going on about in his mind and before he can sort them out, his mouth decides to act on its own, "Why aren't you at the party?" "Oh-" you look disappointed, and he apologises right away, not wanting to upset the only person who had the decency to talk to him, "Sorry, I shouldn't have asked," he's quick to defend himself, it's a natural response after all but you only seemed amused, "No, it quite alright, I was just surprised by your voice-" "Is it that bad?" "Gosh no! It's just not what I expected, quite rough, it's nice," you are quick to shut him up, "And about your question, I am annoyed at my friends forcing me to try more drinks and all, I just came up here to relax."

"I can leave if you'd like," you add on as an afterthought, but you really didn't want to go, it was the only place with some peace, unlike the loud corridors and dorms, where you were mad at your friends and were in no mood for a party. "No, it's quite alright, I was just surprised," he tries to lighten the mood, repeating your words jokingly, it works, you laugh and properly look at him instead of the waters ahead.

"Haha so funny," you say in a monotonous voice, trying to act like you didn't just laugh but you can't contain your smile, and he finds it quite beautiful. You look down at the ring between the two of you, "it's a beautiful ring I must say," You compliment it again since he hadn't acknowledged it before. Mattheo thanked you quietly trying to think of a response that might not make you run away from him.

It's been only a few minutes and you've said more nice things to him than he has ever heard in his whole life, it's quite ridiculous when he thinks about it, seemingly you find it quite easy to compliment him. He stays quiet not knowing how to take a compliment, but you don't let the silence continue, you look around trying to find something to talk about and soon enough you start talking and he's glad, "You know about those plants right there?" you point to the shrubs at some distance from the castle walls. Mattheo shakes his head unable to recall if he had seen them before. "It's alright but now that you know, you have something to look forward to this upcoming month!" you smile yet again, cheerful that you have something to share.

"What's special about them?" "It's not the plant itself but the fireflies that live there!" Mattheo tries hard to keep up with your energy and pace, "Why aren't they out now? They aren't migratory, are they?" "That's what makes it special unlike fireflies that are present throughout the summer, these ones light up only for the last week of August," "I'll look forward to it," "You should! I missed it last year and then everyone thought I was lying when I mentioned it." Mattheo frowns, "No one knows about them? Not even the professors?" "The professors would know but it wasn't that serious that I'd take it up to them," Mattheo finds it difficult to relate, he always would let everyone know that he was in the right if the facts favour him because no way in hell would he let anyone see him in the wrong light, he couldn't bear to be in the wrong.

And it slips out his mouth, "I would've argued till they knew I was right," "I don't like arguing though, reminds me of my parents, they parted ways because they argued a lot, so I try to avoid it myself," his lips purse trying to think of an appropriate response, "Anyway, you are in Slytherin right?" it wasn't a question, you just knew, "I'm in Hufflepuff, nice to meet you!" you turn towards him and extend your hand with a smile, he can't help but mirror your smile, "Nice to meet you indeed." Your hand feels soft in his, he was finding it hard to let go but you pull your hand back almost instantly- remembering something, "OH right I forgot, do you like chocolates?" Mattheo was quite taken aback by your energetic self, it was infectious, "Of course you do, it's a silly question, I mean who doesn't like chocolate-" you stop midway and fix him with a scrutinising look, "Unless you are some heartless monster-" "Nah I like chocolate alright," "Good good."

You fish through your jacket's pocket and pull out two chocolate bars, "It's muggle chocolate," you place one in his hand, "Muggle? I've never had muggle candy," Mattheo inspects the small sweet in his hand, "You are missing out then!" you chuckle as you take the wrapper off yours, "I'll eat it tomorrow, thank you," He pockets it and looks ahead with a small smile, tonight's beautiful now that he looks at it.

"You are a muggle born then?" Mattheo can't help but want to know more, because how dare his fucking father go after your lot, "Yep, I was surprised you know? To receive the letter, I thought it was some prank but of course, after a few days I realised how real it was, couldn't have been happier, to be away from home." It's funny because all Mattheo wants to do is go back to the gloomy old mansion and here you were saying the opposite, the stark difference between the two of you was obvious to him.

You ramble on and he listens, it's nothing but enjoyable to listen to mundane stories being narrated with such interest, he finds himself smiling a bit too much, to the point where his face hurts but he doesn't care because you are quite the lovely company to be around.

Muggle-born, the same year as him, Hufflepuff, living with your mom- it's not the best back home he gathers that much. You were angry at your friends and were going to hold a grudge if they didn't apologise. He learned a lot about you in that one hour and learned a few things about him as well, he didn't know he had jokes like that OR you were just too kind to laugh at his bad quips, whatever it was he was grateful because you didn't make him feel bad or like a burden. Mattheo was glad that you were the talkative one and that you didn't expect him to share anything if he wasn't comfortable, also the fact that he didn't want to send you running away by talking more about himself.

He admires the fond smile you wear when you talk, the stars reflect a bit too brightly in your eyes, and he inhales breathing in your scent, it's surreal, the moment. Mattheo didn't quite think properly until you left, wishing him a good night, "it was nice spending time with you, Mattheo!" He wonders if you knew how much it meant to him.

...

He finds out your name the next day and sees you everywhere, it's annoying because he was tired since he couldn't sleep thinking all night about you and now he has to see your face again. Now that he knows you, he can't seem to avoid you, earlier it was easy to be blind but now, everything else seems like a blind spot but you. Or maybe it's that his head is not hanging low, avoiding looking up at people.

Mattheo got over the irritation rather quickly, discreetly looking at you, eyes following every movement of yours. But you don't look at him once, he was just like any other guy to you, the realisation both hurts and feels nice, knowing that you don't demonise him but also the fact that he's no one special either. And maybe, he can live with that.

He notices the large number of people you keep around, you are never alone, always surrounded by a group and you are always the one talking, you are clearly popular. How had he not noticed you before? But then again he knew no one in the school apart from the professors, he never tried to get to know anyone because of course his fate wouldn't allow that.

Mattheo seeks out the solace of the library to keep you out of his mind for a while but the plan doesn't seem to work when he finds the chocolate you gave him in his bag. He simply sighs, knowing that there is no escape, unwarps the sweet and pops it into his mouth, shutting his eyes, and recalls your sweet smile. Warmth takes over his body, it feels nice like this, he has to talk to you once again because that can't be the only interaction he has with you, not when it's all he can think about. He breathes out slowly, staring down at the wrapper and mindlessly reading the information on the back, his jaw tightens as he realizes his stupid pathetic feelings. Mattheo puts the wrapper in his quill case and tries to study with a head full of you.

...

Okay, now it was really starting to bother him, he practically couldn't keep his eyes off you, it's like a spell had charmed him in. He wasn't even trying to be discreet at this point, he downright stared at you from a distance, it was creepy, he was aware of that but he couldn't bring himself to give a damn. Mattheo doesn't like this new feeling you've instilled in him, it's sweet and it's fucking uncomfortable. He finds it extremely difficult to get rid of you from his thoughts, so he gives up on trying and lets his mind go on autopilot.

The way you talked to him without any judgement in your eyes that day, the images of you repeated over and over again in his mind. Even when he sees you with someone else he can't help but think you are in front of him telling him a story, with those animated expressions of yours, but then seconds later he comes to his senses and sees the smile that's not directed at him, the one you gave to everyone, him too. He thinks it was your pity, that made you talk to him. He didn't feel like he was burdening you then but now when he thinks of approaching you, he knows he'd be burdening you. Your life looks no different, every day is full of joy, and you aren't smiling any less.

Why would you talk to him of all people? Perhaps, you only talked to him that day because you needed a change of scenery and not because you wanted to, he's wrong in thinking that but he's also deluded. It's the only way he keeps himself at peace, to not see meaning in your words, to not long for your company.

But he's a Riddle after all, some things just run in your blood, he has his eyes set on you and he finds it difficult to look away. New dream of his, and he'd like to have it, no matter how unattainable it feels. Yet he hasn't got a clue, it's all too new, and he doesn't know what to do, he'd like to have a plan but what would the plan even say? Go and talk to her? Yeah, like he's about to embarrass himself in front of her.

...

Your eyes stretch at the sight of him sitting in the library, alone but not in some deserted corner, he had claimed the whole couch in the centre of the room, sitting right in the middle, reading a book leaning back, a frown on his face. He looked intimidating, and to be honest, you were scared of him, the little beer in you that night had given you the courage to approach him, maybe your fate was too kind to let you find him that night but now your nerves were on fire.

It was no secret to you that he had been staring at you the past couple of weeks, but you couldn't understand the look on his face, his jaw was always clenched, eyes narrowed, and not a hint of emotion on his face. Was he mad at you? Was he the planning on-

No. You didn't like to think about it, you didn't want him to be the man they paint him as, he's just a boy, your age, maybe that's another reason why you hadn't approached him. Staying away because you were scared that they'd be right, you'd rather delve into what ifs than actually be heartbroken, your imagination brought you bliss.

But would it really be your mind if it would let you just forget it? You think and think, getting worked up over every little interaction you've had with him. How could he be evil? He talked to you so nicely the other day, even- even though you were a muggle-born, a mud blood. But when you see how he looks at you, you can't help but feel scared.

It really was an intimidating sight, your courage wore thin but you had made up your mind. You approach him cautiously, as you greet him, you start feeling jittery and flushed, "Hey Mattheo."

Mattheo jerked his head up as he heard your voice, surprised, caught off guard in fact, he didn't trust his words just yet so he simply nodded at you, acknowledging your presence, closing the book and setting it aside, all his attention on you. "I came here to study and noticed you," you look around bashfully before continuing, "I just wanted to ask you if you liked the chocolate I gave you the other day, you know the one with dark brown wrapper-" "Yeah I did," He stops you from rambling on, not that he had any problem with it but you clearly seemed nervous, he just wanted to ease your nerves, "Right so-" you quickly pull out a small pack of the chocolate from your sling bag placing it beside him, straightening up, "I'll go then, enjoy-" you are quick to turn away from him, cursing yourself in your mind, blaming yourself for making things more awkward than they already were.

Mattheo stops you in your tracks as he calls you by your name, you turn around, and he speaks in that cold voice of his, "You said you were here to study right?" you nod timidly, clutching onto the straps of your bag, he leans back and with a flick of his wrist, a table and chair are summoned in front of him, "then study," he motions to the chair opposite of him.

You were quite taken aback, you stood there for a bit before actually registering his words, and you quietly sat down, you didn't have it in you to disobey him, he was Mattheo Riddle for fucks sake, he looked and sounded like someone who doesn't take no for an answer.

A small smile tugged at his lips as he watched you carefully sit down, looking down, not meeting his gaze, he couldn't believe it, you obliged his wishes? Mattheo leaned back fully, arms folding as he watched you, brown eyes capturing each detail, amusement crawled over his face as he watched you pull out multiple books all at once, various colourful stationery items sprawled out all over the table. You looked pretty like this, stray strands of hair framing your face, lips pursed in concentration. He knew how creepy he was being, so he opened his book again and tried to read but he simply couldn't not when you were sitting in front of him, he relished your presence and this was so unlike the others, every time he had looked at you- you had been surrounded by people, so it was a sight to behold, only for him to admire. So he did, in secret, glancing up at you, every few seconds.

It's been two hours and not once did he get bored of looking at you, a small smile lingered on his face as you closed your books and looked up at him, "How's that book?" you nod towards the book in his hand- the one he was supposed to be reading, "Good, good" he bites the inside of cheek as he lies through his teeth, "Got everything done?" he sets his book aside, fixing you with a soft stare, "Yes, I just wanted to revise a bit, I forget stuff easily if I don't revise regularly," you tilt your head a bit, his eyes were much softer now, and it made your heart flutter a bit, feeling a lot more comfortable than before, so you do what you usually do when you are comfortable- talk.

"By the way, did you study for the upcoming herbology test?" And before he could answer, you pulled out a piece of paper from your bag, "This is like the holy grail, a senior gave it to me last year, it has all the specifics, of recognising plants and how to make generalised guesses about their uses-" you speak in a hushed voice, slightly leaning over the table, eyes wide as you shared your little secret, "you can have it, I have it memorised haha" You bless him with that pretty smile of yours, pushing the paper towards him, you don't let him refuse the offer and start talking about something else, he gives you a small smile, and it makes your insides turn into mush, you bite your lip trying to contain your smile, eyes shy as you start fiddling with your hands on your lap.

You talked for hours, he was much more open this time, and the conversation flowed smoothly between the two of you, it was you who mostly did the talking but he didn't seem to mind he looked more than pleased, he didn't like talking much, it seemed, so you filled in the gaps, made it look so effortless like it was easy talking to him, maybe it was easy for you but to him, it made him feel warm and fuzzy inside. You two stopped only when the librarian came in and told you it was curfew time, your eyes widened as you turned to look back at him, an amused smile on your face, both of you got up, walking beside each other, not uttering a word till you were out of the librarian's stern gaze.

"I made you miss dinner-" your eyes widened further as soon as the two of you got out, stepping into the empty hallway, "it's alright, I don't mind," you playfully rolled your eyes at him, he chuckled at your antics, "yeah sure, but your stomach would, but- we can sneak into the kitchens, you know, sneak some food out," you wiggle your eyebrows at him with a sheepish grin on your face, he scoffs in disbelief, a fond smile gracing his face, "something tells me, this isn't your first time sneaking around."

"No, it's not," you chuckle a bit before continuing, "So, are you coming or not?" you purse your lips, looking up at him with doe eyes and he questions your motives right then because there's no way you didn't have a clue about what you were doing, "would be an idiot to say no," he muttered under his breath shaking his head, "I didn't catch that-", "Yes, I am."

You give him a pleased smile, you looked so happy at that moment, he was rooted in his position as you started walking ahead of him, he had to look away to catch his breath, "Merlin" he exhaled, a hand reaching over to his chest to soothe his loud thumping heart, and in that moment he knew he was a goner.

"Mattheo-?" you turned around since you didn't hear him walk with you but soon he rushed to your side the moment you looked back, you gave him another smile as he walked beside you, he looked straight ahead then, you needed to stop doing that because no fucking way- would he be able to let go of you.

You lead him to the kitchen, both of you cautious, well just you- he was having the time of his life, getting a detention would be worth it, just a small price to pay. Mattheo repeatedly stole glances here and there, the moment you entered the kitchen, you grabbed his arm and pulled his painfully slow self in, "gosh- you sure do walk slow," you glare at him, but there's no malice in your eyes, instead they are just amused, you roll your eyes when he just shrugs in response, moving over to the tables. Mattheo just looked at you with fond eyes, he was just trying to buy more time with you by walking slowly and he didn't feel one bit guilty about it, he felt a bit too proud. 

You sigh dramatically before returning to him with a small tray in your hands, "I didn't find anything else, apart from these blueberry muffins," your eyes wander around once more trying to see if you missed something, "usually there's still stuff left, that's weird- oh well, at least we have these," you give him a small defeated smile, setting the tray on the table, shrugging as you felt that muffins weren't worth the effort of sneaking around and that you only troubled him further. Mattheo saw through you and he hated that you were feeling that way, "didn't I mention this to you? I love muffins, especially the blueberry ones." he gave you a small smile, picking up the muffin, taking a bite, "yeah, that's good, way better than the dry vegetable and chicken pies they make." He didn't look at you as he said that, but you smiled, realising what he was trying to do, you wanted to cry, why was he being so considerate? You were now beginning to go down a spiral, of all the times you thought of him in the wrong light, how dare you even think like that? 

Mattheo caught you staring and it was hard for him to control the heat that rose to his cheeks, he cleared his throat, "What? You don't like these? Well, guess they are all for me-" he teased, taking the tray in his hand and started walking away, "Hey! No-" you rushed after him with an amused smile, "I want one too," and the tray was shoved back into your hands, "better not eat all of them, yeah?" he gave you a small cheeky wink, leaning against the table, finishing the muffin in his hand. 

Mattheo offered to walk you back to your dorm, he didn't have to insist much, after all, you wanted to spend time with him too, you easily agreed after a couple of tries. You two walked in comfortable silence, as you neared the Hufflepuff dormitory, you were thinking about how you'd part ways, overthinking about what would be appropriate and in the mix of it, you just gave him an awkward side hug, squeezing his arm a bit before mumbling a quick "goodnight" and rushing in. 

He couldn't believe his eyes, were you blushing? No way, he must be imagining things. Mattheo could still feel your warm touch lingering on his side, the scene playing over and over again in his mind, he wanted to scream out of excitement- he was getting cuteness aggression, had to be it, his fists clenched at his side as he stared at the door, for god knows how long, if he could- he would've squeezed you into a bone-crushing hug, but you were quick, left him speechless. 

He walked back to the Slytherin dorm without any trouble, he closed the door behind himself and leaned back against it, he was pretty sure his skin was burning with all the warmth that was flowing through his veins. Merlin, he was embarrassing! Mattheo sighed contently, a big smile on his face as he replayed the whole day, your smile- 

...

The next few days, you guys didn't talk at all, he was back to staring and this time, when you did catch him in the act, instead of pretending you didn't see him, you gave him a knowing smile and a wave. Lingering looks, and subtle greetings, were sweet, Mattheo was now on a new high, he couldn't get enough. But for some reason, he maintained his distance, he stuck to looking at you from afar, it felt comfortable this way, not wanting to taint your reputation by talking to you in front of others, he'd talk to you if it was only you but you were never alone. 

Mattheo starts seeing life for what it is, when he looks at the trees outside, the castle in its entirety, he feels like he is seeing it for the first time. How had he missed this? He finds himself back at the astronomy tower, he looks at the lake ahead, it was a sight to behold, and he is starting to appreciate the view, these days he didn't care about much, you were all he could think about and you were more than pleasant, it was as if the grey lens of his life was replaced with a coloured one, and it would be foolish to credit anyone else but you for it, and he was fucking grateful for it. The reason he was here was, that it was the end of August, and the fireflies you so damn wished to see would be out tonight, he came here just in the hope that he'll get to see you alone. 

He was zoning out when some movement near the edge of the lake caught his eye, it was you- with a few of your friends, his smile faltered the moment he saw some blonde Hufflepuff dude pull you to his side, slinging a hand over your shoulder, you all walked towards the shrubs and didn't have to wait long before the fireflies lit up and started raising above the shrubs. He was about to leave, he was mad for some reason, really pissed- but then he took another look at you. You were standing a bit behind your friends, who had all their attention on the flies ahead, you seemed sad, looking down, messing with the soil beneath your shoe, hands in your jacket. Mattheo could make out the pout on your face, the deflated shoulders, you then turned to look right where he was, and he felt his breath catch in his throat.

Your posture straightened immediately, the pretty smile returning to your face as you looked up at the astronomy tower balcony, having spotted him, you waved at him. Mattheo nodded, forearms on the railing as he leaned forward, a smile gracing his features, the anger leaving him. You excitedly pointed at the sky, and he nodded, you turned back around when your friend called you and he couldn't look away, he was staring at you till you left, Mattheo started feeling the warmth creep up to him when he saw you making an effort to steal back glances at him. He felt seen, fucking special- 

...

Mattheo still hadn't talked to you, he couldn't catch you alone really, it was starting to get to him, he longed to hear your voice, hear you talk to him- and yet, he didn't have it in him to approach you in front of others, it would ruin you, you thrived in the company of others, he couldn't snatch that away from you. Maybe if he was a bit more selfish, he'd do it, snatch you away from others, have you all to himself but he wasn't about that life, it was something his father would do, he's sure of it, go after what he wants, not caring what others would think- 

Mattheo feels like passing out when you deliberately look at him just to give him a shy smile, a flushed look on your face. He walks away because he cannot handle looking at you, the urge is too strong, to just take you into his arms, he walks out to the empty hallway, a hand over his chest- it had become a subconscious habit of his, whenever you gave him that smile, the one that felt like it was just reserved for him, yeah that one, he felt like he was in heaven, you sent his heart rate through the roof when you did that, it borderline hurt him since he couldn't do much to satiate this feeling. 

The longing was etched into his eyes when he looked at you, one thing he realised was, that when he had his head up, no one dared to look his way, he was enjoying that power for some reason, it filled his veins with something dark, he liked seeing people look down instead of him looking down, it felt fucking nice, and it felt even better when the only person that did look at him, was you. People averted their eyes when he entered the room, choosing to ignore his presence but the fear was very much evident, so he knew they didn't see him staring at you but at this point, he really couldn't bring himself to make an active effort to look away even if someone noticed. 

It was no lie, that Mattheo wasn't up to date with all the gossip and news, he just lived life passively but now that he was out there more, he couldn't help but hear the words that fell onto his ears, Yule Ball, huh. WAIT- ball dance? That meant having a date, who were you going with? Fuck his mind was rambling shit to him, he could not let someone else take you to a fucking dance as their date, no, he wouldn't let that happen. He had to get to you before someone else did, it was nighttime, and tomorrow's the weekend, approaching you will be the first thing he'll do after he wakes up, he has to plan shit out, you know, make it special and heartfelt, you deserved nothing less.

But his heart nearly broke when he overheard two Slytherin guys talking about you. The way one of them talked about you made his blood boil, his jaw clenched tight, nails drawing blood from his palms as they dug into his coarse skin, "I told you not to ask her out, plenty of guys tried and guess what? She rejected them all." the guy who was being talked to only scoffed angrily, "She's a fucking slut, that's what she is, leading people on-" the other boy just stopped him and Mattheo exhaled, a bit relieved because if it wasn't for him, Mattheo would've smacked the guy and pushed him to the fucking wall, "dude, come on, that's not true, all she did was smile at you when you gave her your seat, she's a nice girl," these guys were in the fifth year, he recognised that much, "sure, whatever," the guy walked away to his room, making sure to loudly slam the door behind him. 

Mattheo then gets up and walks towards the guy left behind, the one who stood up for you, when he stands in front of him, he sees the dude cower into the seat, Mattheo tries to speak in a polite voice but the anger is still radiating off him, his irritated stare didn't help either, "she doesn't have a date, yeah?" his hands were behind his back, over one another, the blood still fresh, "who-o?" the guy stutters out, looking around for help but no one was there- "You know who," he fixes him with a glare, before uttering your name out loud, "no no, she doesn't, rejected them all." Mattheo then nods at him and leans back, then finally he walks back to his room, allowing the guy to catch his breath. 

Mattheo feels relief wash over him as he lets the information sink in, okay good, you didn't have a date but then again, why were you rejecting them all? What if you reject him as well? Yeah, he couldn't handle that wound, he'd fucking die, he contemplates whether he should ask you or not but he's done fucking waiting, waiting for his fate to fuck things over, if things are going to be fucked, he'll be the one to do it. 

...

Mattheo puts on a black shirt and black pants, not caring to tuck his shirt in, the cold metal ring stings him as he puts it on, the feeling is grounding, he's doing something his dad would've done and for some reason that doesn't feel half as bad, he feels like himself, it was like something had possessed him, the confidence was unwavering, even as he stepped out into the crowded hallway, hands in his pockets, looking ahead, people parted, giving him space and Merlin, did that feel fucking powerful. He rolled his sleeves up to his elbows as he approached the room you'd be in, you always were there on the weekends, with your friends and he didn't think before he stepped into the room, heads turning towards him in shock, even yours but the shock on your face was soon replaced with a smile, quietly waving at him and that right there, fed right into his ego.

He walked over to you in a few quick strides, eyes zeroed in on you, nothing else mattered at that moment, "Can I talk to you?" To say you were surprised would be an understatement, you were ecstatic, you've wanted this for so long, to talk to him in front of others, you never knew if you should because he might've felt uncomfortable, "Yes ofcourse, what is it?" you nod, a smile still on your face, "Alone," his voice was cold, "oh yeah, sure-" you step towards him, thinking he'd lead you somewhere private but he stayed rooted in his place, eyes never leaving yours, he stayed quiet for a bit, taking in your whole self, the bright clothes you were dressed in, the equally bright smile on your face. Then he looked over your head, to the shocked faces of your friends, "Alone." It came out as an order, he couldn't care less. 

Mattheo liked this newfound authority, he also relished in the fact that you were being so compliant as if you wanted this to happen and he couldn't be more glad, "Guys, I'll be back, you can go ahead, don't worry," you explained, seeing their hesitance, his unwavering gaze was back on you, brown eyes were intense. The apprehensive group slowly emptied the room and just went the last person was out, Mattheo muttered something under his breath, and the door slammed shut, locking itself. 

Mattheo cursed that pretty smile of yours before smiling back, "You have a date? For the ball?" you lowered your eyes to the ground at the question, a shy look grazing your features as you shook your head, the more he looked at you, the more positive he got. "Good."  He finally pulled his hands out of his pocket and suddenly there was a bouquet of your favourite flowers in his hand and a velvet box, he wordlessly handed them to you, your eyes were wide, full of amusement, face warm, you noticed how the lights around you got dimmer, the small mock firefly charms that floated in the air, you didn't have a clue on how he was doing all this without his wand but you couldn't bring yourself to think of it, not when you had him standing in front you, in all his glory, about to ask you to the ball, gosh you felt like you were on cloud nine, the guy you were waiting for had actually approached you? You had to be dreaming. 

Then out of nowhere, you hear your favourite song but on strings, you look down at the box curiously- "It's the muggle chocolate you were talking about, the one you said was hard to get your hands on," he shrugged nonchalantly, as if it was no big deal but in reality, he was finding the courage to finally tell you what he was feeling, ask you out. Your brows pinched together, as you noticed that all of it was a muggle, even the flower arrangement- the song, how did he do all of this? You looked up at him with an amused look. "No questions please," he breathed out like he was out of breath, you then smiled at him gratefully, and he quickly averted his eyes, his hand subconsciously reaching over to his chest, "Oh Merlin," he exhaled quietly, not being able to look back at you. 

He then slowly gathered the courage to look back at you, you were just looking at him patiently, the smile still on your face, Mattheo cleared his throat before opening up, "I have never been the one to be graceful but I want to this properly." he inhaled sharply before continuing, "Ever since that night, I haven't been able to stop thinking about you, I think I've gone mad honestly," He lets out a dry chuckle shaking his head, looking into your eyes, "I think I've taken a liking to you, your voice, your smile-" and then he interrupts himself, forgetting the little speech he prepared as he watches your smile widen at his words, "yeah that, more of that please," and that makes you blush, the genuine interest in his eyes, the way admiration shines in his eyes, you are so close to him, that you can hear his heart thumping loudly, "I'd like to have the honour of taking you to the ball," then he says your name quietly, "would you like be my date?" 

"Yes yes!" you couldn't be more excited, you are quick to throw your arms around him, and all the worries leave his body as soon as he is subjected to your embrace, he closes his eyes, pulling you closer, finding everything comfortable in your grip. His heartstrings thrum at the moment, it was embarrassing how quickly you got him flustered but he didn't seem to mind it. He whispered a small "thank you," before hugging you tighter, you just giggled into his chest and Merlin, did he feel like he had just won the lottery.

...

<<prev work: this love || mattheo riddle

[sunkissed-zegras]

adam fantilli has a size kink

✮"𝐥𝐞𝐭'𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬!", adam fantilli

♡ ─ word count | 700 words

♡ ─ warnings | unedited, pure nsfw under the cut! lots of teasing, size kink (who woulda thought?), just filthy smut LMAO

♡ ─ taglist |

♡ ─ ev's notes | THANK YOU CELESTE, SIZE KINK AND ADAM WILL NEVER FAIL TO MAKE ME SCREAM! also as we all have figured out, i'm terrible with titles so let's just pretend that it's a good one. i'm not gonna lie i don't know if i did this any justice, this is straight up filth i forgot to incorporate a lot of size kink in there LOL. none the less it's an adam fic, y'all should be grateful bc we are all living off CRUMBS.

Adam's hand laid right on top of your bare stomach, admiring your body. You were laying on your back as Adam watched your carefully, slowly drawing circles on your stomach. His hand almost covers the entirety of your stomach and no matter how long you'd been dating, it will never not turn him on.

"Fuck, princess." Adam breathed out as he gazed at your body, his eyes settling on your pretty face. "You're beautiful."

His hand left your soft and you let out a whimper of disapproval, you needed his touch now. "Shh, it's okay baby. Give me a second."

He spread your legs further and quickly settled in between them and you watched him through your lashes, becoming more desperate by the second. "Please, Adam." You whined.

"I know baby, I know. Just wanna take my time with my pretty girl, gonna make you feel so good." He spoke softly but it went one in and out the other, you wanted him to fuck you stupid, now.

You were soaking wet already and Adam had barely touched you, you'd be embarrassed if you weren't so desperate. He had already stretched you out with his fingers so you would be able to take him and now, you were just waiting for him to hurry up and fuck you.

Finally, as if he had read your mind, Adam grabbed his cock and let out a groan, his head falling back. He was so painfully hard, his pink tip leaking pre-cum as he gave himself a few pumps.

He led his cock slowly into you, stretching you out perfectly. You gripped the sheets, your cunt burning at the sensation. He let out a sigh of relief as he entered you, making you clench around him. He wasn't even halfway inside you yet and you already felt completely full.

"Can't take it," you mumbled out non-coherently, your mind being completely on Adam and the way he was making you feel.

"Have a little more trust baby, you can take it." He groaned as he moved your legs up on his shoulders, then put one of his hands on your hips, the other going to clutch your hand. "You got it, sweetheart."

He slowly bottomed you out, making you squirm under him. You felt him all the way in your stomach as he held himself there for a few seconds, letting adjust. You couldn't help but whine under him, gripping his hand. Adam looked down and saw the bulge right in your lower stomach, he immediately moved his hand on top of it and pushed down softly, making you arch.

"Adam!" You moaned out in pleasure, your eyes beginning to tear up from all teasing he'd done previously.

"Doing so good for me, baby. So fucking good." Adam kneeled down and gave you a sloppy kiss before he started to fuck into you, swallowing all yours moans, your head falling back in utter pleasure.

As he fucked you into the mattress, your legs had already began to shake on his shoulders from the impact. You couldn't even think straight, you didn't have anything in your head right now; you were only here, in this present moment.

"Told ya you can take it, baby." He groaned as he thrusted into you, his hands on your hips, pushing you down into the mattress. "Good fucking girl," he punctuated with each thrust.

He missed you so much, with being gone so often now he barely had time for you so he had to make sure anytime he'd gotten with you, he puts it to good use. He couldn't even focus, you were so warm and fit him perfectly, he was convinced you were made for him.

His once calculated and deep thrusts turned messy and sporadic but you didn't care, it felt so fucking good. It felt like the whole room was shaking at the impact as he kept fucking you into the mattress.

You felt the pressure in your lower stomach build up and it finally snapped, hitting you like ton of bricks. Your whole body spasmed as you let out a borderline pornographic moan, gripping Adam's hand as a way to ground yourself. He came as soon as you did, spilling into you. He immediately fell down on top of you, breathing heavily.

-> make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated! <-

thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[bedoballoons]

Don't know if you've done it yet, but hc's for a kitsune!reader.

Specifically with itto, zhongli, neuvillette, and freminet.

I imagine the typical behavior associated with kitsunes, like tricksters and mischievous kinda, want it to be bit suggestive tho. The reader somehow traps them in a certain position, and it goes on from there 😭

(Feel free to not do this if you dont want to 🩷)

Of course I want to write this! Apologies it took so long for me to get to! I can't wait!! I've never written a kitsune reader before!! Thank you for your request and I hope you enjoy this! <3

─⊰⁠⊹ฺ🍂𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ🍂

{༻~Kitsunes~༺}

CW: Suggestive! MDNI! Mentions of different positions and teasing~

(Includes: Itto, Zhongli, Neuvillette, and Freminet!)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

𑁍༄Itto:

"How did we end up like this ha, not that I mind or anything, the one and oni Ittos a true fan of being close...but I gotta admit this is closer than usual for me." You couldn't help but giggle at the large man's flustered words, your fox like ears twitching excitedly as you pressed yourself closer to his muscular body. It was true, the position you were in was far closer than one would usually allow...with his leg in between yours and your figures forced into touching due to the close walls around you..

"I'm not particularly sure as to how, but I'm certainly enjoying your presence, perhaps we should be in this position more often hm~"

𑁍༄Zhongli:

"My my Zhongli, you've certainly got me in a interesting position. Tell me, was this your intent all along~" Your words slipped from your lips in quiet seductive whispers, driving him almost mad as he stared up at you, his hands on your plush thighs that straddled his hips...even with all the knowledge he possessed he wasn't sure how he'd ended up underneath you.."I can promise you it wasn't my intention, however I must admit it's not at all displeasing...you're beautiful at any angle."

"Awe your words are so kind, perhaps I'll do something back...return the kindness~"

𑁍༄Neuvillette:

"Ahem my apologies. I didn't mean to invade your personal space." Neuvillettes voice was low against your ear, his warm breath caressing your sensitive skin and his unapologetic apologies never going unnoticed. Yes this was out of the ordinary, being tied up with chief of justice...bodies pressed close together in a heated room, but neither of you were really concerned about rescue...afterall you knew it was all just going as planned.

"Neuvie don't apologise for invading my space, with you near my like this, I can feel every curve of your perfect figure...if anything, I'd like to be even closer~"

𑁍༄Freminet:

"I-im so sorry!" Freminet could barely even speak, his face red as a tomato and his stutter worse than it had ever been. He just wanted to hide in a closet and pretend he hadn't just completely embarrassed himself in front of you, but given the fact he was currently trapped with you in a small shipping container..your legs wrapped around his waist and his face mere inches from yours...it was actually impossible. If only the poor lad knew you were enjoying his overly flustered state more than a kid enjoys candy..

"Awe don't apologise cutie, I don't mind being close to you~"

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚~Have a nice day~*⁠.⁠✧

[withleeknow]

HAII! i’m so happy to hear you’re opening requests, your writing is incredible !!

if you remember my idea with the dancing, as you said a short thing, could you write something similar to that maybe?

if not, lee know and yn play truth or dare together one night, “do it, i dare” what happens is free for you to decide 😊

-🍓

devastate me.

pairing: minho x reader genre/warnings: brother's best friend au, mutual pining, kinda fluffy?, kinda angsty?; tbh idek if this makes sense bc my apologies, i finished it at almost 3 in the morning in a delirious state of mind lol, unedited @.@ word count: 0.7k note: hi strawberry!! i chose to do the second one bc i wasn't sure if i could do your original justice with just a quick drabble, but i hope you like this one regardless!! merry christmas heheheh <;33

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation › masterlist › ko-fi

what is lee minho?

to many, he's wonderfully charming, handsome, insanely smart and funny to the point that it's almost annoying, because how on earth can someone have it all just like that? he's kind and sweet. honest and gentle. the perfect man.

to you, he's all of those things and more. much more.

he's the person that you've been in love with for as long as you can remember. the person whose name you will forever associate with the longing of first love. it's beautiful, but it's pain nonetheless.

he's forbidden fruit, the one you want the most but can't possibly have.

your brother's best friend.

but...

if that's the case, if he's off limits to you and you're off limits to him, then why does he have a hand on the wall next to your head, looming over your body with the intensity of a predator? why is he caging you between his arms in the middle of a hallway, at a party in a stranger's house, where anybody could walk by and see you? why are his hips pressed against yours, blurring a line that could be never uncrossed if you take that step? why is he leaning in until you could feel the warmth of his breath on your skin, until your lips are brushing, so close and yet... so far away?

you know why, and it's possibly the worst thing that you could ever be aware of.

that as much as you're in love with him, he's in love with you too.

you feel it every time his eyes fall on you from across the room. every time his touch lingers on your skin from the simplest of interactions. every time he softens when you’re around. every time you’re alone together and he bites his tongue, swallowing down the words you wish he would say - the words you wish you could tell him yourself.

your voice comes out as a mere whisper. "what are you doing?"

maybe it's because you both have had something to drink. maybe it's just simply liquid courage.

“when are we going to stop pretending that there’s nothing going on between us?” he asks, voice dropping low, husky. it sounds a little vulnerable, just like you.

there’s no point in denying it. the truth is clear as day.

“we can’t,” you say.

“why not?”

“you know why.”

minho sighs, then clenches his jaw before he speaks next, frustration laced into every syllable. “i don’t care what anyone else thinks. i just want you.”

“min-”

“fuck,” he interrupts, leaning his forehead to rest against yours, his fingers holding onto your waist more tightly. “i love you.”

you place a hand on his chest, meaning to push him away but then you find his heartbeat under your palm instead, hammering against his chest like it wants to escape from his body.

in a split second of weakness, a split second where the logical part of your brain falters, your eyes flicker to his lips.

and minho, ever the sharp observer even in a state of mild inebriation, notices.

“do it,” he mutters, his words a stark contrast to the helpless tone that he says them with. “i dare you.”

a shaky inhale from you, an almost pleading look from him. even when he's practically begging you, he's handing you all control. to say no if that's what you really want. to leave and dismiss everything as just some stupid joke later on, and go back to revolving around each other in secret, like a couple of powerless fools.

your fingers grip his shirt, because goddamn, of course you want it. you've never wanted anything in your entire life more than you want him. you already have one foot in already, half a mind to blow it all the way to hell and deal with the fallout when the time comes.

you catch his eyes once more, and the sincerity in his galaxy shakes you to the core.

fuck it.

you pull him in, obliterating the gap.

i love you, but you’re telling him in a different way.

so, if someone were to ask you again: what is lee minho?

he’s a lot of things. charming, handsome, smart, funny. the person you love, the very one that you can’t have. the answer is pretty much the same.

but most of all, lee minho is devastating.

permanent taglist: @onlyycb97wife @starsandrqindrops @borahae-reads @abbiestearsricochet @cutiespaghetti @anthropologykpopmultistan @moonlinos

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 24.12.2023]

[starkerhowlter]

Performative Dom

Ship: Starker Rating: E Contains: Language, Blowjobs, collaring, Lingerie, Dom/sub, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Dubious Consent (But corrected by Tony to give Peter the right to consent), Objectification (Not by MCs), BDSM Posing, Collar pulling, Coming Untouched, Daddy Kink, Peter Parker is 18, leashing Initial prompt: @starkerfestivals Valentine's Day exchange prompt 1: Peter is a sub but they won't let him go to college without a Dom sponsor.  Tony thinks he's too brilliant for those dumb rules to ruin his life so he takes up the role only to fall in love with how beautiful Peter looks on his knees. Words: 5426 Summary: Peter needs a dom. And the perfect candidate is right in front of him. But what if they fit better together than either of them ever expected?

AKA: Five Times Tony realized this was a mistake, and one time he embraced it.

Gift for: @the-mad-starker

Read Below or on AO3

HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY MADS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Thank you so much for this prompt and for giving me the opportunity to write it! I hope you love it and I hope this does your prompt justice! Also I hope you love the bonus moodboard I custom built for you! A number of the images were made just for you ♥♥

Also also, hi Starker fandom! It's been a minute since I've been back! I've been on a "fandom tour of the world" recently and joined 3 fandoms since July. You haven't gotten rid of me yet!

This was edited by one of my fave humans @starkerkitty! Thank you so much, Jacy!! <3

note: any underlined words are links

The entire thing had been a spur-of-the-moment decision.

Peter bursts into the lab seething, and Tony's met with a fire he's never seen in the younger boy's eyes. 

Tony's brow furrows as he kicks his feet off the desk, "Peter?" 

"I thought we were past this as a society," Peter shouts, dropping the envelope on the desk in front of him. He continues pacing the length of the garage, stepping onto the walls to pace across the ceiling.

"What? Acceptance letters?" Tony smirks, raises an eyebrow and picks up the envelope. He pulls the paper out, reading. "’Dear Peter Parker, you have been accepted to MIT.’" Tony murmurs, "I mean that was expected..." He continues, "blah blah blah... Orientation is on Monday.. blah blah blah... ‘Unfortunately, we can't allow you to enroll in classes until you present a Dom to sponsor your journey with MIT to allow for you to be enrolled and to keep you accounta’-- Oh, you have to be fucking kidding me," he scoffs, tossing the paper on his desk. "They're really holding you from a degree because of *that*?! Just because of the little pink heart on your license?! Maybe I can call my associates, surely they know I'm the one who recommended you. They can't possibly be holding you for anything at all." He scoffs, "I'm going up there. If they want to play this game, we'll play this game."

"Or..." Peter starts, hopping down from on top of one of the server towers.

"Or?" Tony asks, arms crossing over his chest as he looks up at the boy. 

"Never mind."

"Peter..."

He sighs, "I have a plan. But you... you have to trust me, Mr. Stark."

-----

"Peter, we can't do this. I mean, I'm all about fucking over tradition, but you do realize they do checks. And not just one. They do them throughout the entirety of your time in the program." Tony stares at the younger man from behind his sunglasses, frowning, "We can't possibly make them believe that I'm your Dom."

Peter's shoulders fall, "You don't want to..."

Tony scoffs, reaching over to clasp a hand over Peter's shoulder, "Now when did I say that? I'm just worried because you're just a kid. I don't want to be preying on you because you're vulnerable."

"You're not. You're just helping me to get into a prestigious university. Speaking of, we need to go get some supplies."

"Supplies?"

Peter shrugs and nods, "Y'know... A collar, whatever outfit you think fits your standards, Mr. Stark. If you feel it's appropriate, you can even pick it." 

At the mention of an outfit, Tony's mind fills with images of Peter wrapped in ensembles of his dom's choosing. He considers a suit but settles for something more casual. And Peter in his mind looks stunning. 

This is a mistake.

"Oh. We can uh... go tomorrow, deal?"

Peter nods, "Sounds good, thank you, Mr. Stark! Goodnight!" He skips out of the penthouse, leaving Tony alone with less-than-appropriate thoughts about his young mentee.

_____

There are a few times in Tony Stark's life when he knew he is well and truly fucked before the consequences happen. 

This is one of those times.

Before him, Peter’s standing on a fitting platform presented for Tony. 

"Now, Mr. Stark, what collar are you thinking for your sub? Have they earned a lock? Have they leveled up to a buckle, or is he still in training where they haven't earned more than a snap? As you know, your sub must earn a place beside you."

He allows himself a few deep breaths, glancing at Peter to confirm he's okay with this. 

Instead of a nervous disposition, Peter looks almost comfortable. His eyes are glazed, lips parted as he waits for Tony -- his dom-- to decide what he's worth. 

"I think he's earned a lock." Peter's chest shudders at the words and Tony smirks, "And let's put my name on it. He should bear my name since he belongs to me."

The worker nods, hanging on to Tony's every word. "Done! Give me just a few minutes to get the collar together for you. We can cut it today and size it so you can walk out with the piece before you leave the mall today!"

"Sounds good. I think my sub and I are going to do a few other errands but we will be back. If you wouldn't mind giving me a call?"

"Sure thing, Mr. Stark. I will start on your piece immediately." The worker takes the black metal card from him, disappearing into the back room to swipe it and get his receipt, but Tony isn't interested in the receipt. 

He turns towards Peter, hands resting gently on his arms, "You alright, kid?

Peter nods, mutely, and takes Tony's hand. "Do we need to... show our status while we're in public?" 

"It's probably a good idea. What are you comfortable wearing?"

"Whatever you'd like me to wear... daddy?" Peter tacks on the title as an afterthought and Tony fights the urge to react visibly. 

"I think that they will believe us more if we put you in a lingerie set and then dress you in a nice outfit on top of it. We can pass it off like I picked the outfit to match your collar, and if you are comfortable, some harnesses latch onto the type of collar I picked for you. But honestly, it's whatever you--"

"Mister Stark? I apologize for the interruption. Here is your card back and your receipt."

"Oh! Thank you!" He takes the card, putting it back in his wallet before taking Peter's hand and leading him out of the shop. 

Holding Peter's hand feels far more natural than it should as they walk through the mall. No one gives them a second look, and Tony wonders if they pass as a couple. 

"Follow me," Tony states, leading him through the mall toward the lingerie store. 

"Mr. Stark..." Peter tries, voice cracking with nervousness, "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure. If you aren't, we don't have to do this. But I will tell you from experience, they are going to want proof."

"Okay..."

----

This was a mistake.

Peter's standing in the middle of the store, surrounded by a rainbow of lace and tulle, and staring at Tony with wide brown eyes.  

"What is the-- um--" His voice cracks and Tony's heart melts. 

This was a mistake.

"How about we start you in a simple lace playsuit? Do you have a favorite color?"

"I... You should pick." 

"Alright, deal." Tony approaches one of the racks, sifting through the outfits to pick out a couple of styles in various colors. "What do you think about red?" 

"L-like Iron Man red?" 

"I mean... If I'm going to be 'owning' you, it'd make sense to have you wearing my colors," he replies, "Just seems appropriate."

Peter nods and follows after him, hands shoved in his hoodie pockets. 

"Your clothes are in there," he states, pointing into the third fitting stall, pulling the purple curtain back. "I'll wait for you out here. If you feel comfortable, I'd love to see how you look in the outfits... baby" 

Peter's eyes widen at the title, but he steps inside the booth before he can splutter out a reply and begins stripping off his hoodie and jeans, dropping them onto the gaudy cheetah print chair in the corner of the stall. 

Tony hadn't held back. 

The pieces before him held no semblance of modesty, yet would show off every curve and muscle of his body. One’s black and frilly, another’s pastel silk, and behind them is a hot rod red harness and lace playsuit.

"Holy--" He whispers, running his hand over the black, lace, off-shoulder negligee, pulling it gently off the hanger. The piece weighed next to nothing, but it felt like it'd shatter into a million pieces if he wasn't careful. He lifts it, pulling it over his head and down over his body.

It wasn't a piece of clothing so much as one long-sleeved lace sock, in Peter's opinion.  The bottom of the negligee touched just beneath his ass, and the sleeves pulled down over his hands to leave just his fingers bare. 

The lace covered nothing. His nipples and boxers were visible through the lace and at that second, he felt very, very exposed. 

"M-Mr. Stark?" He ekes out, peeking his head out of the curtain, keeping his body covered. 

"Yeah, Peter?" 

"How's this look?" Peter pulls back the curtain, revealing his lithe muscular form wrapped in the delicate lace dress. 

Oh... Tony fucked up. 

The kid - the one he had told himself he wouldn't drool over - was standing before him in a skin-tight lace bodycon dress, and Tony wanted nothing more at that moment than to devour him. 

"You look-- The lace and-- and your figure... um..." He clears his throat, "You look good. Can I see the next one?"

"Oh! Of course!" Peter replies, rushing back into the room. 

Back in the room, Peter removes the lacy garment and picks up the silky one. It doesn't even make it off the hanger before it's dropped to the floor. 

"No on the silk."

"No?" Tony replies from outside the door, "Just don't like the color or...?"

"Texture," Peter replies bluntly, picking it back up to hang it on the hook. "I can't do it."

Tony huffs what sounds like a laugh, "That's alright, sweetheart." 

The title slips out, and the younger man blushes as he picks up the next piece. 

On the hanger is a lacy bright red harness playsuit. Bands cross along the back and front, over where his midriff would be, and he shivers slightly at the intricacy of the piece. He steps into it, slowly pulling it up over his thighs, hips, and stomach, spreading the lace over his form. 

He turns towards the mirror and the sight of himself catches him off guard. Peter's breathing hitches at the sight of Tony's colors, his red, stretched over Peter’s pale skin. His hands ghost down the front, and the feeling causes him to shiver.  

"You okay in there, kid?" Tony calls, shattering the moment, "Didn't get tangled did you?"

"Uh... no!" He calls out, turning away from the mirror and towards the curtain. "Did you want to see this one? It's a bit... much isn't it?"

Tony gives an affirmative noise, and Peter pulls open the curtain, revealing himself to him. 

"Holy shit..." Tony whispers.

"That bad?"

"Look at you..." He steps forwards, and reaches for his hips, but stops just a few inches shy. "I-- Sorry." Tony inhales and steps back. "You can uh.. get dressed. I'll meet you out front."

He is so fucked.

---

A few days later, Tony's sitting on the couch next to Peter, reading paperwork on his tablet. "Okay, kid, we need a game plan for this Thursday. I mean... how are we planning on convincing them?" He swirls the bourbon in his glass, sipping it slowly. "Are you just thinking you'll sit in my lap or was there something else you thought might work better? What's the move?"

"I figured I'd sit on your lap, um... maybe we can have me wear a button-down shirt so they can see the lingerie and collar you picked? Just... basically... um... what do people usually do?"

'Fuck.' Tony's brain unhelpfully supplies.

"They tend to use less... orthodox methods. Some bring their subs in on leashes or feed them from their hand, make them sit down on the floor at their feet... It really depends. All I know is that when the day comes, I need to know what program you are going into and why so that I can vouch for you. Because as much as I hate it... in that room, you have no voice."

Peter shivers at the implication and nods. "Noted. Would you like me to uh... put on the outfit again so we can practice? I don't think it'd do us well for either of us to be stumbling and shy the day of."

'Oh, fuck, please put the outfit back on...' Tony thinks. 

"Good idea. I expect I will wear a usual suit, so there really isn't any need for me to change, right? I mean the entire thing is just a meeting. Nothing major. What's the worst that could happen? I mean, it's just an interview."

-----

This is a mistake.

Whatever they'd planned for, it wasn't this. 

"M-Mr. Stark..." Peter whispers, eyes wide as he's led into the room, feeling small in the cavernous space. Their shoes thud against the floor as they walk, and he takes note of many famous art pieces along the walls as they're led to the office. 

At the last second, they'd decided on a leash, and now Peter realizes that may have been a mistake. The skinny chain is connected to the D-ring of his collar, and the other end is held by a wrist strap in the same metallic red leather as his collar. The weight of the piece creates a heady feeling at Peter's core and he finds himself thinking of taxes, his grandma... anything to keep the bulge in the front of his pants minimal.

Tony pulls on the chain, leading Peter through the halls, following a woman with a tight black bun who's talking far too fast for Peter to keep up with. 

"This school is one of the most prestigious in the country, you're not going to regret sending your sub here. We do offer a few check-in options if you want him to live on campus, but at the end of the day, it's about whatever works for you, Mr. Stark."

He replies with a simple, "As you know, I was a student here when I was younger. I think I want Peter here to have the same experience. Back then, we knew I was going to be marked a dom, just as my father was, and I didn't need any sort of sponsor. I'm not quite sure how this process works." Tony's entire being exudes confidence, and it puts Peter's racing heartbeat at ease. "Do you need to verify my 'status' or is that just understood?"

"I will need to verify your designation when we get to the office, but at this time it's not a major issue." She gives him a tight smile, not sparing Peter a second glance. "Oh, I should remind you, there will be a confirmation test before the meeting begins, will you be needing supplies for it or have you brought your own?" 

Tony scoffs dismissively, "What the hell is a 'Confirmation test'? You don't believe that I own my sub? That's ridiculous!"

"I do apologize, Mr. Stark. We've had a recent spike in subs acting as doms to get into college or having others of different designations pretend to be their dom to try and bypass the system. Therefore we've had to implement a check. There will be an agreement signed by all parties present if you're worried about it being leaked."

Peter blanches at the concept, heart racing when he hears that others have tried and failed to do exactly as they are. 

"Ah, that makes sense. We won't be needing supplies, my sub here is trained well enough to take it no matter how I give it." He shrugs, "Well then, where should we wait?" 

"Just through here," she replies, ignoring the snark in Tony's voice. 

He sends her a fake smile, pulling Peter closer to him to wrap his arm around Peter’s shoulders. Peter's racing pulse presses against his wrist. With a whisper, he soothes Peter, "It's okay. I've got you, baby," putting on the facade of a doting dom, much to the woman leading them's approval. 

"My dom is the same way when I get nervous," she muses mindlessly, opening a large white door to lead them into the office. "Have a seat over here." She leads him over to one of the plush velvet chairs sitting before a large wood desk, "Your sub can wait by the door." 

Tony frowns, "Absolutely not, he stays with me. No questions asked." Unconsciously, his hand tightens around Peter's leash, keeping him close as though someone would steal him away. "He'll sit at my feet." 

"If that's what you choose. Mr. Donahue and Mr. Arroyo will be in soon. Would you like any coffee while you wait?"

"I think we're alright. Thank you." She nods, leaving them alone. 

"Hey, kid, are you okay?" Tony asks, helping Peter to sit comfortably on his knees by Tony's chair.

Peter nods, shifting slightly to ensure Tony's shirt parts over his chest to reveal the lacy bodice of the lingerie. 

He runs his fingers through Peter's hair, "You look good. I don't know what this 'confirmation test' is, but we'll get through it together."

"I trust you. We can do whatever we need to to get through this. I want to go to MIT so bad, Mr. Stark..."

"I know, Peter, and I will do whatever I have to to make it happen. Even if it means lying to the panel at my alma mater." He smirks, ruffling the younger man's hair, "We will get through this... together."

Before long, the large door at the side of the room opens and two men walk inside. 

"Good morning, I presume you're Mr. Donahue and Mr. Arroyo?"

"Yes, and is this..." He lifts his clipboard, "Peter Parker?"

At the mention of his name, Peter looks up from his place on the floor. 

"Yes. We're here to get Peter set up in the program for biochemistry and chemical engineering."

The two suited men before them snicker, "That's quite the program... Are you sure it's for him?"

Tony frowns, chewing his cheek to keep from mouthing off and blowing it for the younger, "He's actually quite brilliant. But let's be honest, any sub worthy of me would have to be more than just a pretty face." 

His words pinken Peter's cheeks, and he blushes, leaning against Tony's leg. 

"If you're sure, we can progress to the next part of the meeting. Before that though, I have this sheet of terms and conditions for you to read." 

The man on the left hands Tony a sheet of legalese. 

It's a basic NDA, nothing he really needs to worry about because he's sure he could break it with a check and some lawyers if needed. Rolling his eyes at the places saying that he and his sub consent to the test, he moves to sign it, and then hands the pen to Peter, but notices at the last second there's only one line.

"Oh, we don't need his signature, your signature of consent is enough."

"Yeah, well I want his signature of consent next to mine." Tony glares, pointedly dragging the pen along the paper to create a line for Peter to sign. "Baby," he summons, snapping his fingers.

"Yes, Mr. Stark?" Peter replies, just as practiced, "How can I service you?"

"I need your signature on this NDA."

Peter obediently rises to his feet, leaning over the table to sign the paper. 

"You don't even need to read it?" The man on the right asks.

"Of course not. If my Sir read it, I trust him to know what's best for me." 

Clearly, that was the right answer, as Tony's hand wrapped around his hips, pulling Peter back to sit on his lap. 

They hadn't discussed this.

Tony smiles softly at him, left hand running up his chest, and under the shirt. 

Neither of the men before them seem bothered by the display. If anything, they're pleased. 

"Before we begin, I need to see your IDs. Just to confirm your designations." 

"Of course." Tony nods, pulling his wallet out to produce both of their IDs from the pocket they'd tucked them into the day prior.

The men look over their ID cards, confirming the black heart on Tony's and the pink one on Peter's. They hold them up to the light, confirming the words etched beside the icons aren't forged. 

When they seem satisfied, they stand at the desk, handing Tony back the cards. 

"Now, for the next part of this process, we're going into this room next door. There will be some equipment for you to use, should you need it. Essentially, we just need to see how you and Mr. Parker interact to confirm that you are actually in an agreement."

"Sounds like a plan. Let's go," Tony replies calmly, following behind them and leading Peter into the room as well.

---

The giant room is simple, with dark red walls and black wood flooring. There’s only a few pieces of equipment Tony's never seen outside of an obscure sex club he frequented in '05 in the room. 

"When you're ready Mr. Stark." They take a seat on the black couch in the corner of the room.

Tony nods, "Alright. Peter, I want you to strip out of my shirt and head to the display platform over there." He unclips the leash from his wrist and the chain falls against Peter's front. 

"Yes, Daddy," Peter replies obediently, unbuttoning the shirt the rest of the way and allowing it to fall off his shoulders. He folds the garment, setting it on the floor next to him. Silently, he steps onto the circular acrylic platform and waits at attention with his head down and arms behind his back. 

"Inspection," Tony states, crossing his arms, and standing just off to the side of the stand. 

Without a second thought, Peter raises his arms behind his head, spreading his legs to wait for his next command.

Tony walks behind him, circling the platform as the world shrinks to just them.

"Service."

He nods, dropping his hands in front of his crotch, patiently eyeing Tony for the next word."

"Good. Nadu."

'Fuck.' Peter thinks, dropping to his knees. He kneels back, spreading his thighs just enough to place his hands palms-up on them, eyes trained at the floor just before him. 

It feels like the room has suddenly grown 800 degrees hotter as Tony watches the younger man drop to his knees from just his command. He fights the urge to respond. To go over and take control and ownership of Peter, but instead, he coughs and delivers the next command, "Collar."

Peter lifts his head, presenting his throat as though Tony were to place or pull on the leather wrapped around his throat. 

"Humble."

He drops forward, chain hitting the ground with a dull thud as his nose touches the floor, arms sliding before him, and his ass pushed out into the air for Tony or any passerby to inspect him.  It wracks shivers down Peter's form as he lays there. 

Tony's eyes widen.

This was a mistake.

Had Peter's ass always looked that good in those jeans or was this position just stretching the light fabric over his form? He clears his throat, glancing over at the suited men writing notes in the corner. 

"Ready position," he commands, snapping his fingers to grab Peter's attention.  

Peter pushes up, pulling his hands back towards himself, sitting on his knees with his lips slightly parted. The chain of the leash runs down his body as Peter raises his gaze to just above where Tony's face would be if he stood over him. 

The thought fills Tony's head with more visuals than he's prepared for, and he feels himself going lightheaded. 

This was a fucking mistake.

"Last one, Peter..." he states, "Captured."

Gracelessly, Peter rolls onto his back, spreading his arms and legs to present his body to Tony, inviting him to take control. His breath leaves his lungs. If it weren't for the jeans obstructing his view, Peter's cock, hole, and balls would be on display for him. 

Tony chokes out a simple, "R-Released." Clearing his throat, he adds, "Good job, Peter." He offers him the button-up from next to the platform, helping him put it on, but stops him before he can button it. 

"Thank you, Daddy, I'm glad that I could please you."

He presses a gentle kiss to Peter's temple and reattaches the chain leash to his wrist. 

One of the men interrupts the exchange, catching Tony's attention, "Well, Mr. Stark, I can say that we are thoroughly impressed with you and your training of your sub. If you wouldn't mind having a seat with us over here, we can sort out his schedule for this semester." 

"Gladly." He leads Peter over, dropping into the white chair across from them, and pulling Peter into his lap.

----

Two hours later, they arrive outside with one sheet of classes for Peter to begin in a week. 

"We did it!!" Peter squeals, wrapping his arms around Tony in a tight, celebratory hug. 

"We did, kid! You are now officially a student of MIT," Tony replies, "Congratulations! Wanna head home?"

"Please..." Peter replies. 'Just a little longer.'

----

The air in the penthouse is thick as Tony drops his keys on the counter in the kitchen. 

"Now what? I expect you want to change into something more comfortable?"

'Please do, before I eat you alive,' Tony thinks.

"Um... I thought..." Peter walks around the counter, standing before Tony, "I thought I might stay in this a little longer. If that... I mean... If that's okay?"

"Fuck, kid... Of course it is," he murmurs, hand reaching out and stopping just before Peter's cheek. Peter's breath ghosts across his wrist, crushing the last of Tony's reserve. He places his hand on Peter's jaw, running it down toward his throat.

They'd removed the leash once they'd gotten in the car, and Tony mourned its loss, but instead reached for the ring at the center of Peter's collar. 

"Is this okay?" 

"Please..." Peter whispers, eyes falling to Tony's lips before flicking back to meet his eye. 

"Fuck, kid..." Tony grabs the D-ring with his right index finger, pulling him forward into their first kiss. It grows heated almost instantly, as Peter presses his body back against the counter, caged in by Tony's left hand. 

Peter whimpers against his lips, licking into Tony's mouth. 

"I've wanted this so badly... For so long," he murmurs, sharing breaths with the older man, "Please, Mr. Stark, let me have it?"

"Of course, you can have whatever you want, Peter. Anything." He kisses the younger again, reveling in the soft whines slipping past Peter's lips. "What do you want?"

"Can you... Tell me what to do again?" His voice cracks, nervously and Tony smirks at the sound. 

"Of course I can. You can say stop at any time. I won't hold it against you and it won't affect me sponsoring you for college, okay?"

Peter nods, waiting for his first command as soon as Tony lets go of his collar. 

"I want you to go into the living room, strip out of your outside clothes, and pick one of your kneeling positions. Either Nadu, Collaring, or your Ready position. I will be there in a moment. Also, you will call me ‘Daddy.’"

"Yes, Daddy." Peter rushes out of the kitchen, and into the den, stripping and kneeling in his ready position, just like he was trained. He watches the kitchen door, patiently waiting for Tony to come through. 

Tony pushes open the door to the den, and there in the center of the floor is Peter kneeling in the Iron Man red lingerie Tony'd picked a week prior, waiting patiently for the older man to claim him for his own. The red elastic bands wrap diagonally around Peter's center, and the lace at his crotch and chest stretches over the skin perfectly. 

He looks edible.

"Fuck, look at you..." Tony gasps. "I swear it took everything in me earlier not to step up on that platform and kiss you earlier." 

As if imagining it, Peter shivers. Tony smirks, and runs his fingers through Peter's hair. "I have a feeling you would have liked it if I had, baby." 

The title makes Peter's eyes widen and he blushes. 

"Noted." Tony chuckles, "How far do you want to take this?"

"All the way. I just... I want your cock so bad, Daddy..."

"Fuck..." he groans, "Yeah, we can... we can make that happen. Fri, lock down this floor, make sure no one gets in." 

"On it, sir," she replies.

"You have my full attention, Daddy," Peter whispers, shyly, "Do what you think I am worthy of."

"Honey, you've had my full attention since I put my name on your neck. And as for what you're worthy of? I think you've earned being spoiled on my cock until you're begging. How does that sound?"

Peter shivers and nods, "Please, Daddy... Make me yours."

He chuckles and unbuttons his slacks, watching as Peter tracks every single motion of his hands. "Desperate?" 

The younger man blushes, and lowers his gaze to Tony's shoes, not replying.

"I'm going to take that as a yes."

"Can we just... Can I--?" He raises his hands to Tony's belt.

"Fuck, of course you can, Peter." Tony nods, pulling his cock through the front of his boxers. "It's all yours."

Peter pushes forward, taking the tip into his mouth with practiced ease. 

"Have you done this bef-- Oh fuck there..." Tony groans, hand falling into Peter's hair.

"Never kiss and tell, Daddy." He winks, licking along the side of Tony's length, sucking kisses into the skin. 

"Fuck, Peter..." His hips jump when the younger man takes the crown into his mouth, sucking slowly down until he's buried the hilt of Tony's cock in his mouth. "How... did you... get to be so good at this?" His chest rises and falls as Peter watches through a hooded gaze. "You're so good for me, Peter..."

He pulls off, lips swollen and pink, "Say it?"

Tony runs his fingers through his hair, catching on the curls, "So good for Daddy." 

Peter whimpers, taking Tony’s dick back into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks and suckling sloppily. Slowly, Tony's hips push back against his sucking, creating a slow rhythm. 

"Can I fuck your mouth, baby?" 

He nods as much as he can, dropping his jaw to allow for space. 

Experimenting with a thrust, Tony pushes his dick further into Peter's mouth, reveling in the tight heat surrounding him. He pulls back, repeating the motion a few times, gasping when Peter's gurgles vibrate around his length.

Releasing his hold, he allows Peter to pull off and catch his breath, watching as the younger man wipes drool from his lips, and tears from his eyes. 

"Again?"

"When you're ready, sweetheart. You're doing so good for Daddy, baby. I'm going to go a little faster."

As promised, he speeds his rhythm up, thrusting into Peter's mouth, each breath carrying a desperate moan. "Fuck, Peter..." He tangles his hands in Peter's hair, pulling Peter's head in an opposing pattern to his hips, "Just a little more, sweetheart... And then I'll make you feel good too."

"Don't... Don't have to." Peter croaks, pushing his hips down against the ground. "'m good."

"Are you getting off on this, Peter? Enjoying me using your mouth? You enjoy being used by Daddy?" Tony purrs, tangling his hands in Peter's hair, pulling him forward again, "Good. Because Daddy loves using your pretty mouth." 

Peter whimpers, sucking Tony back into his mouth, licking the beads of precum off the tip and down the side. He shivers, fucking his own mouth. 

"Fuck, sweetheart... Can't... Can't fucking do that, I'm too close." 

Tony swears he sees Peter's eyes sparkle when he says that, but he couldn't be sure. Not with his head falling back in a louder-than-necessary moan. 

Peter shivers at the sound, and the vibrations of his own moans are what brings Tony over the edge. 

He shouts Peter's name, bucking sloppily into his mouth, groaning loudly. "Fuck, so good for me baby... So fucking good." 

Peter swallows around him, licking the remnants away, pulling off with a soft pop. 

Tony tucks himself back into his boxers and sinks next to Peter, "God... Why haven't we done this sooner?" 

Peter shrugs dazedly, head falling against Tony's shoulder. He wraps his arms around Peter, kissing him softly. The man tastes himself, and he smiles against Peter's lips. 

"As for you..." he reaches down, slipping his hand into Peter's lingerie, and is met with a wet spot, and Peter's hypersensitive cock. "You-- You came untouched?"

"Mhmn.."

"Fuck, kid..." Tony gasps, "What did I do to deserve you?"

"Everything," Peter whispers back, nuzzling closer, feeling completely owned.  Just as he should be.

Thank you so much for reading!!! Likes, Comments and reblogs are MUCH appreciated!

[scoutwritesworld]

Hey queen can you do a protective rooster fic?

PROTECTIVE ROOSTER IS MY ABSOLUTE FAVOURITE – to read AND to write. This request was my absolute pleasure, queenie. Hope I did it justice! Still dusting off the cobwebs with my writing so go easy on me.

Your Hands Only.

(Inspired by a scene from Suits Season 1 Episode 11 – If you know, you know.)

TW – Mild for unwanted advances and violence.

It had started like any other Saturday night at The Hard Deck. Rowdy patrons, loud music blaring from the jukebox, large groups of locals enjoying their weekly catch up and a gathering of navy aviators crowded around the pool table.

Rooster and the gang were already there by the time you arrived, and by the looks of their table were already a round or two in. Usually you would be right there with them but tonight you had sort of a date.

Robert was a local who had started making small talk with you a week or so ago, and had caught you a bit off guard earlier that week when he had asked you to join him for a drink, just the two of you. You had only stopped by The Hard Deck between classes as a favour to Mav, and Robert just so happened to be there.

Truth be told, your mind was somewhat occupied with someone else – Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw. Your teammate, yes, but also one of your closest and most trusted friends. You'd been inseparable since you met, and he was one person you could always trust to have your back. He was your very best friend, yet somewhere between the lines of platonic intimacy, you'd somehow managed to fall head over heels in love with him. Your feelings for him felt suffocating at times - the way his simplest movements and gestures had your heart racing was nothing short of utter torment considering you were positive that the feelings weren't reciprocated. You did your best to shut down your feelings, but time after time it was proven that it was easier said than done. Distraction was the only way to go.

So, against your better judgement, you had agreed to grab a drink with Robert.

Phoenix was the first to notice you as you shimmied your way through the crowd towards the bar, and as soon as she waved in your direction, Rooster's eyes were on you – that damn beautiful dark and mysterious gaze. You locked eyes with him and smiled, waving over at the group. A few of them beckoned you over to join them but you shook your head with an apologetic glance, mouthing 'I can't' as you motioned over to the tall, ash blonde man waiting for you at the bar. You had mentioned the team about your 'date', but you had also promised you'd join them for one later. As much as you wanted to enjoy his company, you knew that this wasn't about to end going home with him.

All of your team went back to their game except for Rooster who let his gaze linger on you just a little longer.

You finally reached the bar and perched yourself on the stool next to Robert, placing your little black clutch on the bar in front of you.

“Hey,” you greeted, grabbing his full attention. Robert gave you a full once over with his eyes before he said hello back, clearly impressed with the effort you had made.

“Y/N, you look incredible.” He told you, his eyes drinking in your figure for a little longer than you were comfortable with. You straightened your posture and leaned both arms on the bar to cover as much as you could in an attempt to direct his gaze elsewhere.

“Uh, thanks.” You replied politely with a small smile, “You look great too.”

“Very kind of you to say, ma'am.” He responded instantly, taking your hand from the bar and lifting it to his lips for a kiss. You didn't take back your hand immediately, but soon pulled your hand back down when his lips loitered a little too long. Robert thought nothing of this, and didn't seem to notice your aversion to him being too handsy as he moved his free hand to rest on your hip.

Conversation didn't flow too easily over the next half hour or so which surprised you. Usually small talk was a strength of yours, but apparently not when you were distracted by avoiding wandering hands and politely declining advances that were becoming more and more indecent by the minute. It was becoming increasingly obvious that Robert only had one outcome in mind for tonight, and it involved you naked in his bed. Fucking typical.

You threw the occasional glance over at your friends, who all looked like they were having a great time. You wished there was an easy was to dip out of your 'date' without being rude, a fake emergency or something like that. Anything to get you within the safe space of your team. You made a mental note to implement some sort of SOS code with Phoenix if you ever agreed to another one of these.

You weren't sure exactly when he arrived, but you suddenly became aware of Rooster's voice on the other side of you, ordering another round for himself and the group. You gave a quick glance over your shoulder at him but turned away before he looked back. You thought he hadn't noticed, but he had.

“So whatcha say? One more drink then back to mine?” Robert's words were noticeably more slurred as he reached to drape a hand over your shoulder. You almost choked on a sip of your drink, wondering how the hell he thought that was even an option.

You didn't notice the way Rooster tensed at his words, but Penny did. And suddenly her eyes were on you as she continued to prepare a round of drinks. You took Robert's wrist and gently removed it from your shoulder. He frowned

“No, thank you.” You replied quietly but firmly.

Rooster looked over at you and Robert caught his glance. Suddenly he upped his advances as though he had something to prove.

“Oh, come on darlin'. It'll be fun.” Robert insisted, snaking an arm around your waist, hand settling on your ass as he pulled you closer to him. “You, me, a nice bottle of wine and some expensive silk bed sheets.” You frowned, shaking your head.

Rooster sucked in a sharp breath, leaning one arm on the bar as he turned his full attention to the two of you.

“Alright, Romeo. How about cooling it off a bit, yeah?” You heard Rooster speak, Robert either didn't hear him or deliberately ignored him – you guessed the latter. You once again removed his hands and put some distance between the two of you, shuffling just that little bit closer to Rooster. It was his instinct to close the gap between the two of you, but you didn't have time to notice as Robert took a big chance and leaned forwards, hands reaching to cup your face as his lips puckered for a kiss.

You turned your head away from him quickly, but Rooster was faster. He reached a strong arm over your shoulder and pushed Robert back with ease, steadying your smaller frame before he moved around to stand completely between the two of you. “Hey bud, you got problems with your fucking hearing? She doesn't fucking like that.”

The vicinity surrounding the three of you suddenly went silent and your cheeks flushed red. You turned to see Hangman and the rest of your team with their attention drawn to the commotion. You knew they could close the gap between you and them in an instant if necessary but for now they just observed, ready to back Rooster should he need it.

In front of you, Rooster had his fists clenched at his sides. Robert had stumbled to his feet and Rooster towered over him with anger in his eyes.

“Bradshaw..” you mumbled quietly, “Just leave it, he isn't worth it.”

Rooster turned for a moment ready to reply to you but Robert's drunk slur came first. “Yeah, I ain't scrapping over a prude, man. She's all yours.”

You were ready to give the asshole a well deserved slap to the face, but Rooster beat you to it. His clenched fist reached back and swiped forwards to connect with Robert's jaw. He stumbled and would have fallen had it not been for Hangman and Mav waiting to catch him and escort him to the exit.

Rooster turned to you as chatter started up again and the bar atmosphere returned to how it had been before. “What a fucking tool. Are you alright?”

You were speechless for a moment. You couldn't quite believe he was the one checking on you when he was the one sporting a fresh set of bruised knuckles, but what really got under your skin in the best type of way was the intensity of his gaze as he looked at you, like he was ready to take you into his arms there and then in front of everyone.

“Y-yeah,” you stuttered slightly, clearing your throat before replying more clearly, “Yeah, I'm alright. Are you?”

You motioned to Rooster's hand and he brought it up with a proud smirk on his lips. “Oh this? Yeah, never better. That asshole had been asking for this all night.”

“All night?”

“Oh, c'mon Y/N. I could tell from all the way over there that you didn't want his damn hands all over you like that, and he couldn't even figure it out from right next to you.”

“Stalking me, Bradley?” You quipped with a smirk.

“Protecting you.” He corrected without skipping a beat. You expected him to make some sort of joke, or laugh it off, but he remained deadly serious which had your heart thundering against your chest.

“You didn't have to do that.” You told him, no matter how much you appreciated and loved that he did. Your gaze fell to the ground as all of your feelings for him threatened to burst out and create a catastrophic bomb site in the middle of The Hard Deck. An unexpected gentle caress of his hand pulled your attention back to him.

“I didn't have to, I wanted to. No one gets to put hands on you like that. No one except...”

Rooster cut himself off and dropped his hand right as your eyes suddenly hot up to look directly at him. His gaze suddenly faltered like he'd said something wrong, when in reality he had said something incredibly right.

“Your hands only, Bradshaw.” You told him matter-of-factly.

Rooster took your hand in his with a stupid grin on his face, leading the two of you through the growing crowd and out of The Hard Deck, leaving Phoenix and Bob shouting “We fucking told you.” to your team as the Dagger squad watched you leave.

[the-sprog]

"so.... You're not the same person?"

"No," he really hopes they'll attribute his racing heartbeat and sweating face to nervousness and anxiety, and not because he's blatantly lying through his teeth.

"Who is he then?" He's sure that if he could see his face, Batman would be raising an eyebrow.

Or maybe not, maybe he's just as expressionless without his mask.

"Well..." Ok, Billy. You can do this. You've lied to police officers for harder things to hide. You have the excuse of magic this time. You can do it. "I guess you could say he's... My dad...?" That's surely not going to come back to bite him in the ass anytime soon.

Fuck Batman and fuck his face recognition software.

"You don't sound too sure yourself." Dammit Supes, you're supposed to be on his side, not poking holes in his story!

"It's kinda complicated. It's magic bullshit." He can feel the judgemental stares at his swearing, but he's freaking out too much to care about what the Justice League thinks of his politeness.

"Basically," he continues, not giving them the chance of asking questions again, "think about it this way. He's the one with the powers, and- and nothing actually happens to me if he gets hurt." Ok, technical truth. He can do this.

"So do you... Like... Switch places then?"

"Yes, that's exactly what happens." He thanks Superman mentally.

"What happens to you then?"

"Uuuhmmm." THINK THINK THINK. "It's like- well, basically... Only one of us can exist on any give plane of existence." Are those words too big for an 11 years old to know? Possibly. But he does learn a thing or two by being Marvel and constantly being surrounded by adults who spoke like they came out of a dictionary.

Or a court case.

"So you go... Where?" 'Flash if you don't stop asking questions,' Billy mentally threatens, 'I will make sure there is no food for you at the Watchtower or so help me Gods. I'll become the biggest annoyance you've ever had the displasure of dealing with'

"The Rock of Eternity." Probably his best lie yet.

"And it's.... Safe for you in the... Rock?" Diana, you beautiful, wonderful woman. Why would you do this to him?

Billy nods. "Yes, only we can go there. Well, and people we allow inside. But we don't do that." And Freddy doesn't count.

Neither does Darla.

And Mary.

And Pedro.

Eugene.

None of the rest of his family counts, let's leave it at that.

"As long as the Champion of Magic is there to protect it, it's the safest place one could be in"

'If you strong enough to resist the temptations of the embodiment of the Seven Deadly Sins, that is' he didn't say. He thought it, though.

Gosh he hopes Martian Man Hunter hasn't been reading his mind this whole time.

That would be awkward, to say the least.

"But why are you two like this- what happened?" Well Flash is not going to eat in the tower for a good while.

Billy fidgets. One last lie. Can he 'technically the truth' his way out of this one?

"Well... Marvel is not... Really my dad. He's more like...." C'mon words, c'mon. "His ghost or-or his... His legacy! Yeah. And a few years ago- there's a Wizard involved. We got the blessings of the Gods and- I don't actually know the details." Mostly because the details don't actually exists.

But they don't need to know that.

The other heroes share a glace.

He knows they're not happy about the whole situation. He doesn't even want to imagine what they'd say if they knew he was lying.

Vaguely, he remembers about a conversation Robin and Superboy had. Something that Nightwing and Hood brought on. Something about Batman and his tendency of pulling children under his wing.

Suddenly, Billy becomes self conscious of the holes in his clothes, the dirt-stained jeans, his hair that he clearly cut himself, the bruises and scrapes under the fabric that the other heroes can't even see.

He must really look like something alright.

"Can we talk to the Captain, kid?" He's surprised that throughout all of this none of them had even asked his name.

"Yeah, sure." He yells the magic word, with a passing thought of not having well calculated having to pose as two separate people in their eyes now.

[unaesthetic-writer]

HEYYYY THIS IS PT. 2 TO THE JEGULUS BALLET AU FIC HOPE U ENJOY THIS TOOOO @ashshmee

Sirius and I are still waiting in the hall of the theater by the time the whole place is almost empty. It's quiet and serene, but it does nothing to quell the excitement coursing through my veins. I'm actually going to get to meet him. The picture of him on stage still lingers in my mind. It was as if until now I was living in a universe without stars, and I can't fathom how I've survived until now. Sirius is still staring at me like I'll combust at any given moment, worried and scared at the same time. "So... You wanna tell me why you want to see my little brother so badly James?" I freeze slightly, my mind racing a million times a minute—even more than it usually does— trying to figure out a coherent way to describe this to his older brother of all people. "I- I just thought he was really good. He danced beautifully." That wasn't a complete lie, but the way Regulus danced... I couldn't truly do it any justice with any words I knew. Beautiful didn't cut it; And neither did spectacular, amazing, graceful, or even surreal.

When Regulus comes out, he is just as graceful as on stage. The poise he has, the way he carries himself, commands respect and awe. But he looked completely different to how he was on stage somehow. He still has this quietness to his steps that speak so loud somehow, and it just keeps your attention on him. But differently, he now seems more sad, like a part of him was left on the stage. He hides it well, but there's less of a shine in his eyes than there was on stage that wasn't just performance. And through all of this, he still manages to look scarily similar to his brother, yet still so different. His black hair and his eyes both match his brother's, but where Sirius' features came off more roguish and angular, Regulus was less rugged and slightly softer. That wasn't to say he didn't have the same pointyness all Black's seemed to possess, whether in personality or looks, he was just more... Ethereal. As if a dream. Sirius walks up to Regulus, pulling him into a hug and whispering into his ear, making Regulus raise his eyes to stare at me. A small smirk dances on his lips and I feel like I might faint. The breath I had been taking in was gone. He quite literally breathtaking. Not knowing what to do, I try to feign some type of confidence and strut over to Regulus. "You were wonderful in the show. It's a pleasure to meet you, I'm James Potter." I try not to stumble over my words as I talk to him as if he's not some godly incarnate. His words are just as melodical as he is, "Regulus A. Black. Thank you very much for convincing my brother to come see me. He's always hated ballet—too boring he says." Regulus chuckles the slightest bit, and it takes everything in me to stay grounded. "You make me sound like a child Reggie." Sirius huffs, fake pouting at his brother. "I won't make you sound like one when you start not acting like one," Regulus replies unfazed. The two brothers go back and forth for a bit longer, but I can't contain the one thought that's been running through my head.

"Will you dance in one of our music videos?" I ask Regulus, taking one small step closer to him, basking in his radiance.

Regulus raises an eyebrow. "I'm a classically trained dancer, Potter, not your random street dancer. So while thank you for the offer, I don't dance to the type of music you create.* His rejection is just as poised and swift as he is.

I nod, knowing that this answer was a possibility. "I'll make a song you can dance to then. Something worthy of someone of your training and caliber." Sirius stares at me incredulously, in shock of what I've just asked. Regulus shakes his head once more. "I find it hard to believe that you could. You do realize that my type of music is a complete and utter inverse from what you usually make? So once again, no I cannot I'm afraid." Challenge rises in my chest at this moment. I need him to dance in our video, and the song I make would be just for him. Especially for him, made with only him and his dance in mind. Regulus turns to go back to talking go his brother when I declare,

"I'll do it. I'll prove it to you I can create a song just for you to dance to, only for you. And if I do, please be in our video."

Regulus with no hesitation puts on a devilish smirk and counters, "I'd like to see you try, Potter."

AAAAAAND THAT'S PART 2 FOLKS, PT.3 WILL COME VERY SOON(sorry I have to keep splitting them up 🙏🙏😭 plz be patient with meeee)

[heresthestorymorningglory]

Electric Touch

Summary: You're helping Lars to explore his limitations with touch.

A/N: SO, (bear with me this is going to be a beast of an author's note okay?)

Y'all know that I'm a part of the Goosecord, a glorious server filled with even more glorious people. One of these beautiful humans in particular, I'm convinced is my UK doppelganger, and no you can't change my mind. I met her in July completely by accident when I fell in love with her writing style (her Ken is still my #1 favourite) and she introduced me to the Goosecord; We're on the same wavelength with A LOT. She's joined the short list of beautiful women I affectionately refer to as my "soul sisters" She's helped me through hurdles both creatively and personally over the last six months and I'll reach the character limit if I carry on and on about how truly wonderful she is and how grateful I am to have met her (you're stuck with me now for forever my dear 😘) Anywho, amongst the plethora of things we discovered we have in common, birthdays is one of them; we're less than a week apart and she shares her birthday with someone who was very special to me growing up. I wholly and completely believe in divine intervention and she came flying into my life as it started to fall apart.

If you haven't figured it out yet, I'm talking about my gorgeous partner in crime @ken-dom

All this to say, to celebrate this wonderful woman's birthday, I not only watched Lars And The Real Girl in its entirety, but decided I was going to jump with both feet into the Lars world and took a stab at writing him the first time in her honour. Be gentle friends I'm not great at the romance.

Usually, I put an NSFW on all of my work; for quite possibly the first time ever, it's not required. Title inspo comes from T Swift (don't come for me) and Fall Out Boy's Electric Touch here

Happiest of (early) birthdays my darling soul sister (early af because I have no willpower or self control to wait til next month) Hopefully I've done your Lars justice 🩷

All my love,

K 💙

The gravel crunched under your boots as you made your way up the driveway, There was a chill to the air still despite the snow having almost completely melted. You pulled your hat down tighter around your ears. Vertigo by Griff playing in your headphones as Lars came into view; the ax in his hands splitting the piece of wood underneath it with such ease you once teased him you were certain the wood was fake, or rotted so badly that he could simply pull it apart with his bare hands. 

Lars being Lars, had to put your ridiculous accusation to the test immediately, putting the ax down…blade facing away of course…he picked a piece off the pile and stood in front of you where you waited patiently a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips at the seriousness on his face. 

He held the log in both hands, pulling hard, the tips of his fingers white from the pressure pushing on the lumber. 

He sighed with effort before dropping his shoulders “See?” 

You nodded “My mistake” 

He had shaken his head with a small laugh as he turned back to his work at hand as if you had been ridiculous for even suggesting such a thing. 

That had been onwards a month ago now, and his chuckle of disbelief at your audacity that he could simply tear wood in half was something you had thought about ever since. 

You knew Lars was unique, that things with him would be…less than conventional, his time with Bianca had made that apparent to everyone. You had told him, this would all be on his terms, his comfort was the most important thing to you; and of course, the last thing you had wanted to do was replace Bianca, you could never; she was special. 

Lars’ face broke into a grin as he looked up and saw you watching him. He waved excitedly and you grinned, his smile infectious waving back before chuckling to yourself, biting gently on your index finger as he simply turned back to the woodpile to carry on chopping as if you hadn’t been there at all. 

You pulled your headphones from your ears and dropped them in your pocket as you moved to lean against the garage, one foot propped against the siding as you folded your arms across your chest, your manicured thumbnail finding its way between your teeth as you watched him intently. 

In true Lars fashion, despite his physical exertion, he was dressed in at least four layers. You watched as he put the ax down to peel off the top layer before looking around for somewhere to put the puffy blue jacket that wasn’t the spongy wet grass. 

“I’ll hold it” you called, holding out your hand beckoning him to bring it to you 

He nodded before jogging over to where you stood passing it to you, the tips of his fingers brushing over the length of yours, the briefest touch, but you were certain he was aware. 

“Thanks” he smiled tight lipped as you folded the jacket over your arms watching him jog back to the woodpile. 

“He really is something isn’t he?” 

You turned to see Karin standing next to you, bundled against the cold and smiled with a nod, turning your attention back to Lars. 

“He really is” you agreed. 

“Wanna come inside?” she asked gesturing toward the house “It’s a lot warmer than out here” 

You shook your head “I’m okay, thanks” 

“I bet you are,” she smirked before turning back toward the house “Door’s open if you change your mind” 

You wouldn’t. 

Watching Lars in his own environment was one of your favourite things to do; he could be himself and be comfortable. He didn’t have to pretend around you he had said one night as you sat across from each other cross legged on his small bed working on touch therapy. 

What he didn’t know was touch therapy helped you just as much as it helped him. You struggled with being touched, albeit not to the same degree, but Lars made it bearable. With him, you didn’t mind that the ghost of his fingers lingered on the back of your hand long after he had taken them away.

You straightened as he sauntered over to where you stood against the garage, positive he was oblivious to how effortlessly sexy he made something as simple as walking. 

He leaned the ax against the wall with a sniff, wiping his sleeve over his nose. Despite the cold, his face glistened with sweat. 

“Want to go inside?” he asked tipping his head slightly in the adorable way he always did “You must be cold”

“Burning up actually” you winked, watching his cheeks burn red as he immediately dropped his gaze to look between your feet. “I’m only teasing” you half lied “Karin said she-”

“I was thinking we could-” he started, before shifting uncomfortably his head still dropped 

You waited quietly for him to collect his thoughts and try again. 

“That we could..have some…us time” he stammered, peeking up at you from under his long lashes making your heart flip in your chest “I-if you want”

You had been seeing each other almost daily for over a month and you still made him nervous; especially when he’d had things on his mind. 

“I would love to” you smiled, keeping your voice soft. 

His head shot up nearly colliding with yours in the process, his blue eyes sparkling with an excitement that made you giggle “Yeah?” 

You nodded with a laugh “Yeah”

“Okay” he nodded, ushering you forward, but careful not to touch the small of your back as you passed. 

He reached around you, opening the door before stepping back, letting you walk in first. 

“I’m sorry for the mess” he apologized, pushing the door closed as he pulled his gloves off

Your eyes scanned the room, it was impeccable save for the cereal bowl on the small table.

“You don’t have to apologize” you smiled “This is your home”

He waved his hand dismissively and shrugged out of his jacket, pulling his hat off and hanging both on hooks by the door. 

You unzipped your own jacket, biting your lip gently with a smirk when you felt him help you tug it off before hanging it next to his. You slid your boots off, setting your hat on top before turning your attention back to Lars, who was wringing his hands nervously.

“Lars?” you asked softly, worried if you spoke much louder you might spook him 

He looked up quickly, almost like he’d forgotten you were there. 

“Are you alright?” you asked, raising an eyebrow 

He nodded “We should- Can we…can we sit?” he asked, gesturing to his small bed. 

“Sure” you nodded before sitting on the edge of the mattress, moving to cross your legs in front of you as he sat across from you. “Did you have something in mind for tonight?” 

He was nervous, but you had accepted the fact that merely, you, being in his presence was enough to make him jittery. This was something different though…

You sat with your hands collapsed in your lap waiting for him to ease himself into his comfort zone. This had become something of a routine for the two of you, usually you visited with Karin and Gus, long enough for a cup of tea or coffee maybe dinner before you and Lars would retire to his small space in the garage, where he would build you a small fire and you would sit across from each other on the small bed while he plucked up the courage to ask if he could “try again” 

It always started the same, hesitant and slow as his fingers traced the back of your hand; after a few minutes he would nod, that was his silent indication you could do the same. 

Today you had come prepared, you sat across from him in a t-shirt despite the cold temperatures outside, the small garage always warmed up quickly. Each day you had sat doing this with him, he had managed to progress further up the length of your arm, touching and holding for longer increments each time. 

He let out a heavy sigh swallowing hard, his hands folded in front of him 

“We don’t have to do this tonight if you’re not ready” you reassured and he immediately shook his head 

“No, I want to” he paused looking up at you “Un-unless you don’t want-? 

“I’m  ready for whatever you’re comfortable with sweetheart” 

His cheeks flushed the slightest shade of pink before he nodded, hoping you hadn’t noticed. You pretended not to. 

“I…” he let out another heavy sigh “Can I-” he tried again before he faltered 

“Take your time” you soothed 

He nodded, squeezing his eyes shut as he took a deep breath in through his nose. 

He fidgeted sitting across from you as you waited; he was transfixed on his hands in his lap, not making eye contact with you. “Would it be alright if we….if I….” he dropped his voice to a near non existent whisper “If I kissed you?” Again, like he had out in the yard, he peeked up at you from under his long eyelashes, nervous for your answer. 

“You want to kiss me?” you asked, unable to keep the growing smile off your face; it was such an innocent request, anyone else would have thought nothing of it, would have just went for it, but not Lars. 

He nodded quickly before dropping his gaze. 

“I-if you want” he mumbled quickly

“Lars…” you smiled, reaching to rest a hand on his knee, in lieu of reaching for his bare hand. “Look at me” 

Slowly he lifted his head  blinking rapidly “It's okay if you don't, I understand” 

“I would love to” He looked up almost in awe as you continued “Are you sure you're ready for that?” 

He nodded determinedly 

“We'll go slow” you smiled offering your hand for him to take the initiative. 

Almost immediately he reached out, taking your hand in his. This was something he had grown comfortable with, anything else was much more of a struggle. His hand slowly slid up the length of your arm. 

He let out a shaky breath knowing what would follow, your mirror of his movements along his own arm. 

He jumped back, startling you slightly “Wait wait” 

You dropped your hand, your own heartbeat subsiding in your ears watching as he stood and stripped off everything but his undershirt and sweats before he sat back down. 

“I want to feel it this time” he explained “More than before”

Your own excitement peaked at his sudden boldness as he returned his hand to your upper arm. 

“If you want to stop, just say so, okay?” You asked, finding yourself slightly nervous at the prospect of pushing him too far. 

He nodded but didn't make eye contact as his hand settled on your shoulder. 

His breath caught in his throat as your hand inched up his bicep, hesitating briefly when he jumped. 

“Okay?” You asked

“Yes,” he whispered. Eyes still focused on his own movements. 

Your eyes fluttered closed as his large hand slid up the length of your neck, his calloused fingers hesitant, and warm tickling your skin. The low moan in the back of your throat stopped Lars immediately. 

“Did I hurt you?” He asked, worry evident in his voice 

You shook your head slowly, opening your eyes. “No, baby” you whispered, reminding yourself you needed to keep your composure. 

He cupped your cheek and you sighed leaning into his touch. 

His breath was shaky as he felt your hand move from his shoulder, creeping closer to his neck, to bare skin. 

He could do this. He wanted to do this. He wanted to do this with you. 

“May I?” You asked softly, fingers hovering on the neck of his undershirt. 

Again, he nodded. You still kept your movements slow, your heart beating hard in your chest, very aware this was foreign territory for Lars. 

He flinched almost as soon as your skin made contact with his, but he didn't pull away. 

To your surprise he shifted, moving himself closer to you. His hands moving to your waist pulling you into a kneel. His hands were extremely warm, even through the thin fabric of your t-shirt. 

You moved closer, but stopped short, letting him keep control of the situation. His breath was warm against your face given your new proximity. 

He took your face in both hands all at once, pressing his lips firmly against yours. You gasped, your hands finding his waist as his tongue pushed past your lips before he hesitated, but didn't pull back. Your lips parted, giving him the permission he'd hoped for. 

He whimpered, making your stomach flip, your fingers curling gently against his hips as he deepened your kiss, pulling your body flush against his.  

His mouth moved eagerly against yours, the unmistakable bulge pressing against your leg as his arms wrapped around your back. He ground his hips against your thigh, his breathing heavy. 

In spite of your best efforts, you moaned into your kiss, which only seemed to spur Lars on, he rocked against you, his hands finding their way into your hair, fingers tangling around the strands. 

Lars had completely lost himself in the moment; lost himself in you. You had managed to pull yourself out of the intoxicating spell you’d slipped under, prying your lips from his, breathing hard as Lars moaned into your neck, his fingers curling tightly against your back, your thigh suddenly damp. 

As reality came crashing back around him Lars sat back, a look you could only assume was nothing short of fear etched all over his face. 

“I’m sorry” he apologized, his eyes welling up with tears “I-I didn’t mean to”

Your features immediately softened opting to touch his arm gently instead of his face. “Lars, baby, you have nothing to be sorry for” 

His brow furrowed slightly as he considered your words blinking away the tears “I don’t?” 

“No,” you shook your head with a smile reaching to push his hair back out of his eyes “Never” 

“Never?” He asked, his nose scrunching slightly with his skepticism 

“Not with me” 

He nodded slowly, seemingly accepting this to be true. 

“Did I hurt you?” you asked, worried that you may have unintentionally thrust him from his comfort zone. “How’s the burning?”

He shook his head “I don’t, it doesn’t….it’s different”

“Good different?” you asked 

“Good different” His face broke into a grin “Can we do it again?” 

You chuckled to yourself, as much as you were more than willing to do it again, you shook your head 

His face fell immediately “Did I do it wrong?” panic obvious. 

“Oh Lars, no” you shook your head with a small laugh “It was wonderful” 

His shoulders dropped as he visibly relaxed 

“But wouldn’t you rather take it slow?” you asked “Go at a pace you’re comfortable with?” 

He considered this with a nod “I just want you to be happy”

“I am happy” you stressed “How could I not be with a stud like you?” 

He scoffed, again scrunching his nose as he shook his head in disagreement his cheeks flushing a deep crimson 

You laughed, making him bashful was so easy to do. “Why don’t you go get cleaned up and I’ll play with your hair the way you like until you fall asleep?”

He nodded “Yes please” 

“Well then,” you smiled, gesturing toward the bathroom as you both got to your feet

He turned toward the bathroom, walking a step and a half before he turned back around “Hey..” 

You looked up from pulling the covers back on the bed “Hmm?” 

You stood up fully as he came back to where you stood “I forgot to tell you Happy Birthday” 

He bent to kiss you on the cheek before promptly turning on his heel and disappearing into the bathroom before you had a chance to register what had happened. 

You stood alone in the small converted garage laughing lightly to yourself, your fingertips resting where his lips had been moments before, still able to feel their ghostly imprint. 

“Thank you” you smirked to yourself before climbing between the sheets and waited for Lars to join you.

[ashwhowrites]

Hiii! Can you make a story where Eddie continuously asks the reader out, but keeps getting rejected by her. She only does it since she has a 1 year old daughter (who he has no idea) and feels that Eddie wouldn’t be interested in her anymore because of that (some guys tend not to date woman with kids. They think is a lot of baggage) Make it a happy ending please! 😭

YES A HAPPY ENDING. THANK GOD

This is cute, I'll try my best to give it justice

Master-list

It wasn't strange to see Eddie sitting at a bar. It was his favorite place to have a beer and let his mind relax. Plus the bartender he has a crush on, definitely made his night better.

Just one simple problem, every time he asked her out she said no and he didn't know why.

~~

Eddie Munson was quite a character at her bar. He was fucking hot, no denying that. He had the cutest brown eyes. The prettiest smile she's ever seen. A laugh that somehow sounded warm. She felt so physically attracted to him and she hated it.

Ever since she had her daughter, men seemed to run the second she was brought up. Her daughter became her world, but she got lonely. Her ex left the second she announced she was pregnant, too young for a child he said. Only 23 herself she felt like she had no time to get her shit together. No time to date for sure. Only time to work her ass off and return home before the babysitter had to leave.

Eddie was not in her plan. She did not have time to fall in love, and to watch him leave the second he found out she was a mother.

He was 24 and in a band, definitely not a guy who wanted to date a woman who had a kid.

But she can't help but feel desired and beautiful when he flirted with her. Maybe that's why she never told him she had a daughter, just saying no when he asked her out. Always pretending to be busy or at work.

~~

Eddie let every "no" roll off of his back, refusing to give up. He wanted a date with her and for as long as she seemed interested, he was going to keep trying.

"Okay beautiful, what do I have to do to get you to say yes to a date with me?" He smirked as she blushed. A smile on her face.

"I don't know Eddie. I don't have time for dating." She said as she handed him another beer.

"Okay then we'll have our date here, while you work."

"how do you plan to do that?" She laughed

"I'll make it work gorgeous." He said with a smile, "now what do you say?" He asked. Leaning closer to her over the bar.

His smile got bigger when she leaned in, eyes watching his face. He was even cuter up close.

"no." She said softly, giggling as she went to help another costumer.

Eddie shook his head with a laugh while sipping his beer. He wasn't giving up yet.

~~

A week passed with the same question and the same answer. They flirted, soft touches but she was still scared to take it anywhere further.

Eddie was watching her closely as she served a man at the end of the bar. Clenching his fists as the guys eyes lingered on her tits and ass.

Eddie tried to stay calm, men looking at her wasn't anything he should be mad over. But when the man's hand went to slap her ass is when Eddie flew out of his seat.

"Don't you even think about it prick." He growled as he held the guys hand, freezing it in mid air.

Y/N quickly turned at the commotion. Eyes seeing Eddie's hand gripping the man's wrists. She had an idea what the man was going to do. He's been flirting and making inappropriate comments at her all night.

"Get the fuck off of me man." The guy snapped, yanking his hand free.

"why don't you learn respect and get the fuck out of here " Eddie was fuming. The nerve some men have towards women was gross.

"Is she your little slut or something? Sorry to say man but she was all over me." The guy looked over at her and grabbed his crotch with a smirk.

Y/N felt her body cringe at his action.

"I fucking dare you to call her that again." Eddie growled, standing tall. The man stood up, matching Eddie's height. Chest to chest.

"Eds it's fine." She said as she grabbed his arm, trying to pull him away from getting hurt.

"Yeah Eds listen to your little slut and back up."

Eddie planned to listen to her and back off but once the prick opened his mouth again, he swung. Feeling his ring smash into the man's nose, blood pouring out instantly.

"YOU FUCKER!" the man yelled and threw himself on Eddie. Landing a punch to his right eye.

Eddie kneed him in the stomach and got the upper hand. Landing on top of the man laying blow after blow.

"EDDIE STOP RIGHT NOW!" Y/N screamed over and over.

When Eddie raised his fist to punch again she thought fast and grabbed it. Freezing his punch in mid-air.

"please let's just step outside." She said.

Eddie looked down to see the guy barely moving, still breathing but just passed out.

Eddie let her take him to the back of the bar, feeling the cold air. She wet a towel on her way out.

Eddie leaned against the brick wall as she stood between his legs, dabbing his nose softly.

"are you okay?" He asked

"I think I should be asking you that." She joked, swiping his eyebrow that got sliced open.

He smiled lightly, silently watching her clean him up.

"I have a first aid in my car, follow me." She said, grabbing her keys from inside and leading him to her car. She opened her glove department to get out the kit.

Eddie's eyes caught sight of a car seat in the backseat. Coloring books and crayons on the floor.

"Do you have a little sibling or something?" He asked, watching as she turned around facing him.

She looked to see Eddie staring into her backseat. Sighing at the dumb idea of taking Eddie to her car.

"I actually have a daughter." She whispered, digging through to find a band aid.

Eddie was shocked. She seemed way too young to have a daughter. Once she found the band aid she carefully placed it on his eyebrow. Soft fingers brushing on his forehead.

"Really? Not to sound rude or anything, but you seem way too young to have a daughter. How old is she?"

"Thank you. I am young so I get it. She just had her first birthday." She smiled. It was hard not to smile when she thought of her daughter.

She placed the box back in her car and shut the door.

"I bet she's really beautiful." He said. If she looks just like her mom that is.

Y/N felt her smile get bigger. "She really is."

They sat in silence for a beat too long for her liking. Already feeling the geers in Eddie's head turning.

"um well I need to head back." She said and quickly walked back into the bar, leaving Eddie in the parking lot.

She prepared herself for that to be the last time she saw him ever again.

~~

But it wasn't. Eddie was there the very next night, same flirty smile on his face.

"How is my gorgeous girl today?" He asked.

She was taken back from his compliment.

"I'm fine? Just a beer?" She asked, already grabbing his usual.

"Yes and that date I've been asking for." He winked as she handed him the beer.

"wait what?" She asked.

He was taken back by her look of confusion. They do this mostly every night and that wasn't her normal line.

"what do you mean what?" Both looking at each other confused.

"you still want to go on a date with me?" She asked. She truly didn't expect him to come back and let alone flirt with her. Then ask her out on top of that.

"What's going on? Are you like being replaced by someone else or something?" He joked, this was nothing like the Y/N he was used to teasing and flirting with.

"Uh no. It's just once I bring up that I have a daughter the guy usually disappears." She laughed it off but Eddie could see the hurt in her eyes. The insecurity radiating off of her.

Eddie reached to grasp her hand softly.

"Is that why you refused to let me take you out? Because other assholes weren't man enough?"

Now she felt stupid. Looking at every guy the same. Eddie didn't deserve that.

"I'm sorry Eddie. I shouldn't have grouped you into that group with those dicks." She sighed, allowing herself to hold his hand back, lacing her fingers with his.

"I know how you can make it up to me." He smirked.

A blush and smile raised on her face.

"Let me guess a date?" She giggled.

"I was gonna say another beer, but hey if you are offering." He winked. Enjoying the way she laughed.

"a beer and a date, coming right up."

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @slightlyvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance

[popquizhot-shot]

My first Frankie fic! This guy is the actual loml and I've been so nervous about writing for him because I was scared I couldn't do him justice, but here it is! hope ya'll like it! please reblog and comment, it's gives writers inspiration to write more<33 thank you

"Baby, we're going to be late!" Frankie calls out as he goes around the house, switching off all the lights and fans because damn it, he's not going to waste any electricity. Call him cheap, he's careful with money.

"Give me a minute!" your voice answers from the bedroom and he sighs, a mixture of exasperation and love.

This double date with Santi and Yovanna had been long overdue, and since you finally had time off from work, he'd decided to get it over with so that you'd stop feeling bad about postponing it. He knew Santi and Yovanna, they would never mind, in fact, the both of them encouraged you to take a break and stay home but you'd adamantly refused, wanting to get out of the house for something other than work or to the grocery store.

He's about to call out again, but the words fail to fall out his parted lips. He's been married for at least five years, and known you for seven, and yet, every time he sees you coming down the stairs, even if you're dressed or not, he stands transfixed and thanks whoever is up there for you.

For the way you smile at him as you walk towards the door, looking around to check if any lights are on because you know it's what he does.

For the way you kiss him lightly, twice and slap his ass before giggling and grabbing his hand to drag him towards the car.

For the way you are completely and irrevocably his.

Just as he is yours.

He opens the passenger seat and you kiss his cheek as you slide in, "Thank you, honey."

He'll accept your thanks when he's seated and about to buckle himself, as he's always done, with a kiss.

The drive is mostly silent. It's a testament to your love for each other, to be able to have comfortable silence. He doesn't always have to speak, nor do you. Your love for each other transcends words, you allow him into your solitude and he knows it's one of the highest honors he will ever earn. Even as a former soldier.

He's able to see Santi and Yovanna sitting next to each other and talking quite animatedly as he parks the car next to the restaurant and he knows you're looking at them with a smile.

"They're adorable together." you coo. You've always seen Santi as your brother and your joy knew no bounds when he found someone he truly loved. Now, you had both a brother and a sister.

"I know right? I can't believe he's the same man from out wedding." Frankie replies and you grimace slightly, the memory of Santi making out with your maid of honor ten minutes before the ceremony began entering your mind and making you snort.

"He isn't the same man," you say as you get out of the car, "Yovanna's changed him for the better."

"Amen to that." Frankie grumbles and you bark out a laugh.

```````

You've finally settled in after minutes of hugging each other and friendly exclaims of 'You live!" from Santi, accompanied by affectionate chiding from his wife.

Frankie's sipping his drink and staring aimlessly at the menu as you chat with your friend.

"So, how's it been?" you grin at Yovanna who's looks down and smiles. She and Santi got married a few months ago and the teasing has failed to stop. You know for a fact that her eyebrows will furrow and she'll bite her lip if you called her Mrs Garcia.

"All good, Santi and I have been travelling all over the place. I've always wanted to see the country and it's so beautiful. Being with him makes it so much better." she replies.

"Of course it does, mi alma, it's me we're talking about." Santi winks playfully and you and Frankie laugh as she swats his shoulder.

You look at Frankie then, as he's laughing and teasing his best friend.

He's so fine. It's been seven years and you still feel like you're a kid with her first crush, the way you stare at him like a creep.

It's criminal, the way his eyes light up when Santi orders his favorite food, because of course the guy knows Frankie's preference. It's unreal how the same man who has fought brutal wars and been through unimaginable horrors, still finds the strength to be gentle and caring, almost everyday.

"And you call us lovesick." Yovanna's voice startles you out of your little daydream.

"I know, right?" Santi grins, "The both of you are so much worse, it's not even funny."

As if proving his point, Frankie kisses your temple and flips off Santi.

``

He's always loved pasta. The type didn't matter. Macaroni, ravioli, spaghetti. His ma would make it on special occasions, as a treat. And he'd look forward to those days as if they were his birthday.

Pasta has always made life better for him. When you make it, he's going down on his knees for you the moment his finished scarfing it down his throat. When he eats it out, he makes sure to get some parceled if he likes it, so he can eat it later.

So he savours the pasta Santi ordered for him, because it's been his favorite ever since he's stepped into this restaurant. And because he's sitting next to the love of his life, on a date, after literal weeks of seeing you sleep late, eat next to nothing and making you gulp down eight glasses of water a day because you'd rather get fired than actually take of yourself when you're in your element.

It's an amazing sight, he admits, to see you in your element. He shamelessly stares when you're giving an online presentation or when you're walking around the house on a phone call.

But he'd rather have this, you talking to Santi and Yovanna, bitching about your boss who dumps his work on you and cussing the nosy old aunties who make it their business to check if you're having kids any time soon.

Santi tells him about the coordinates Will gave him, and how he ended up throwing the paper away because he'd found his 'treasure'. that shook a laugh out of you, in Australia.

You tell him you're proud of him and Frankie smiles at him, and Santi knows that his best friend is proud of him too.

Yovanna tells you about the time the car broke down in the middle of their road trip and how Santi had to fix it and how he grumbled the entire time because he was expecting a hotel with a pool and not a dusty road and a punctured tire.

"That reminds me of the time Frankie and I were driving to his parent's house and the car broke down. He started swearing like a sailor and then shut up because he realized that his mom was still on the phone." you laugh.

"Oh, i got a telling off that day." Frankie winces.

"His mom's terrifying." Santi agrees.

``````

The both of you left after dessert, promising them to visit before Frankie started the car and began driving home.

"Faster Francisco, or I'll pee in the goddamn car." you threaten and he laughs but discreetly drives a little faster.

While the food was amazing at the restaurant, the unisex bathrooms were not to your liking, even though you'd begged Frankie to check if they were neat enough, you liked a clean bathroom. Preferably the one in your own house.

Once your reach home and he's safely parked, you fling the door open with a shrill, "Thank you, baby!" as you run inside, unlocking the door impatiently and running upstairs to heaven.

Frankie chuckles as he empties his pockets, his keys, wallet and a few candy wrappers onto the table in the foyer before taking his shoes off and placing them next to yours.

A few minutes later, you emerge from the bathroom with a satisfied sigh, your hands carressng your swollen belly.

"Frankie." you coo and he looks at you from his spot on the sofa. You're in your innerwear and again, he thanks whoever is up there for you.

"Yes, mi amor?" he replies, looking at you intently.

You look at your stomach and smile at him. He walks over and places him hands over yours, "Is it a boy?" he kisses your cheek and the both of you snort very unbecomingly. Because its pasta and ice cream and cake, and even if the both of you aren't ready for someone else to be in there yet, you don't want it to be any other way.

He runs his hand over your little food baby and kisses your neck slowly, " I love you."

The little sigh that leaves your mouth in reciprocation to the sensations blooming because of what your man is doing to you is clear as day,

I love you too.

[howlingday]

Huntsman Branwen

Jaune: Sir, come quick! There's a murderer on the loose!

Tyrian: (Gunning down innocent people)

Jaune: Please, do something!

Qrow: You got nothing to worry about, kid. Huntsman Branwen is on the case.

Jaune: ...Okay?

Qrow: Good afternoon, sir. You, uh, have a second?

Tyrian: (Still shooting) Sure, what's up?

Qrow: Well, sir, and pardon me for the intrusion, but I couldn't help but notice you're, uh, kinda firing randomly into this highly populated part of town.

Tyrian: (Still shooting) Mhm.

Qrow: See, I don't like to start my chit-chat's with the hard questions, but considering the circumstances, can I ask if that might have to do with the multiple dead laying around.

Tyrian: (Still shooting) I really don't have time for baseless accusations, huntsman.

Jaune: What are you-?!

Qrow: See, that's fair. Believe me, I fully understand your frustration. But I just can't shake the feeling there's something going on here. Would you mind answering a few more questions? I promise, it won't take more than a few seconds.

Tyrian: (Still shooting) Yeah, sure.

Jaune: He's got a gun! He's actively shooting peop- HOLY SHIT!

Qrow: All circumstantial, kid.

Jaune: Wh-?

Qrow: Trust me. I'll get a confession out of him yet.

Jaune: What?!

Qrow: Now, Mister... Ah, now this is so embarrassing. I'm real sorry but I don't remember catching your name. Mind reminding me?

Tyrian: (Still shooting) Salem.

Qrow: Ah, yeah, that's it! Mr. Salem! Now what brings you out on this beautiful day?

Tyrian: (Still shooting) Oh, you know, just out executing the will of our goddess upon the unworthy. Not really trying to reinvent the wheel here. Oh, hang on! (Fires) Almost got ya, ya slippery bastard.

Jaune: DO SOMETHING!

Qrow: Kid, what does it look like I'm doing?

Jaune: Like you're interviewing an active shooter!

Qrow: Your knowledge of the justice system scares me, kid.

Jaune: WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN?!

Qrow: Y'know, I'm not stickler for fashion- just ask my husband, I've been wearing the same coat for forty-eight years now- but I gotta ask; what's with the tattoo?

Tyrian: (Still shooting) Oh, I'm so glad you asked! See, the tattoo represents-

Jaune: WHO CARES ABOUT THE TATTOO?! HE'S STILL GOING!

Qrow: Kid, I'm gonna need ya to calm down. I'm so sorry about my friend here. He gets nervous during active shootings.

Tyrian: (Still shooting) No, no! It's cool! Hey, mental health comes first.

Jaune: BRANWEN!

Tyrian: (Still shooting) Listen, I'd love to stay and chat, but I do kinda need to get going. Kinda gotta go blow my brains out in that McSchnees before the pigs catch me.

Qrow: Totally understandable, sir. You have a nice day. Oh, uh, before you go, I do have one more question. See, there's this one little detail that just keeps bothering me, so maybe you could help. See, I might be a huntsman, but I've seen my fair share of homicides.

Jaune: Nobody is surprised by that.

Qrow: So when I see a body with a bullet in their noggin, I have reason to believe a gun might be at play. I also recognize by the bullet casing scattered across the street tell me that either somebody is dropping rounds all willy nilly, which believe me, is rare, or they belong to a twin-barrel gunpowder hand-cannon with an eight-inch barrel... which just so happens to be in your hands.

Tyrian: (Stops shooting) ...What are you getting at, Huntsman?

Qrow: Honestly, I'm not too sure myself, but I see all this, and trust me, it does no good on my conscience to suspect an innocent man, so answer me this one question. If there's a plethora of dead men, women, and children, all shot dead with bullets I bet I could trace to your guns with your hands on the triggers after witnessing you shooting said deceased with my own eyes... Then how come your coat is inside out?

Jaune: Everything up to this point has been meaningless.

Qrow: Now, if you'll excuse me. I'll be coming back with a warrant.

Jaune: BRANWEN, YOU FUCKING IDIOT- (Shot dead)

Qrow: Hm... I think I just about cracked this- (Shot dead)

[unassumingastartes]

Part 1 of Heresy Era Primarch fan casts.

I'm currently working on the remaining 15 of which I have 6 selected (3 more going up shortly). I just need to get the time to find fitting images for them all, and create the posts etc.

Part 2 is up!

[Also, please ignore any grammatical errors. I am very ill, and I'm doing this to cheer myself up]

I seem to take issue with most fancastings I come across of primarchs; in my mind must be played by someone that has that kind of special visual property to their appearance that's very eye catching but can't be placed. Primarchs have a super natural aura that makes people drawn to them but also very intimidated. So it's a very unique mix that one must have.

Here are a few I think fit the bill.

Jaghatai khan-

Baljinnyamyn Amarsaikhan.

Mongolian actors are very unrepresented in cinema, I believe that for a character completely inspired by mongol culture, casting anyone outside of that would be a shame. Just like the Khan, he has a strong, very intimidating aura but also has an equally strong charisma and powerful appearance that demands respect. His performance in Marco polo was great. The Khan is full of contradictions in his character he's jovial yet serious, he's just as quick to laughter as he is to rage, he doesn't take himself seriously but if you do something against him he'll never forget it, he's logical yet impulsive.

Leman Russ-

Travis Fimmel.

No fan of both Viking and Warhammer will be surprised by this casting. You'll know it doesn't even need an explanation as to why this role is perfect for Travis. Travis' performance as Ragnar in vikings was legendary. His feral but caring nature, like a wolf that wishes to be tamed but fights back when it happens. Just like Leman. A quick-witted, silly, carefree but battle crazed berserker. I talked about outstanding physical appearance being a must, and Travis' eyes are one of a kind. No description can do them justice.

Angron-

Manu Bennett.

Angron is a very misunderstood character in the fandom. He was forced to become a gladiator as a child, he never knew love, his aura was stolen from him due to the butchers nails, which drove him insane and made me bloodlusted craving violence just for a moments relief. He was denied an honourable death with his loved ones, then again, and is still forcibly kept alive as a Daemon. Even his own sons were terrified of him and hated him. Being around Angron was like being caged in with a starved and injured apex predator. Manu's experience with playing a gladiator previously is fitting along with his ability to tap into that hyper intimating mode, where even tho he is extremely handsome, it's not welcoming. It's the lure of the beauty in a tigers stripes where you want to admire, but you know you must run.

[riddle-me-ri]

Hiiii!

I seen that you liked Ghibli, and i simply got so happy! (i simply adore everything that has to do with Miyazaki's work, and feel so exited for his next movie!)

Well, here's my request: the Mad Hatters with a s/o who's EXACTLY like Sophie from Howl's Moving Castle!

I really like the idea of the s/o being a Hatter, so Jervis could either fall in love due to her work, or feel evious but end's loving her due to her calm, kind and honest nature!

That would be it! Have a great day!

a/n: awww omg I love this idea so very much!! It’s such a cute and neat concept! Thanks so much for requesting it! I hope I did it justice, I definitely think most Hatters would be floored with only a couple being jealous lol. I'm not gonna lie working on this has inspired me to wanna do some fics/drabbles with BTAS Jervis and his s/o owning a shop and him reforming properly as he wanted to do in The Worry Men 🥺

The Mad Hatters with a Milliner/Hatter S/O

Arkhamverse Mad Hatter:

- At first he is unsure...

- Who ever heard of there being ANOTHER Hatter??

- But you were a different kind of Hatter.

- Not only were you extremely gifted in making various hats but…you were also incredibly kind…

- Even to someone like him. 

- He soon grows to be absolutely enamored by you. 

- Jervis may use your own unsuspecting hats for his plans 

- And the recipient better be appreciative to get to wear his beloved's hats. 

BTAS Mad Hatter:

- Jervis absolutely adores you. 

- He loves to see how creative and spontaneous you get when coming up with designs. 

- Hat making is one of your favorite pastimes for the two of you. 

- You two have definitely collaborated on numerous hats from concept to execution. 

- You often use this as a time to ramble off to each other about everything and anything. 

- Jervis never felt more comfortable in his own skin than when he's in your shop. 

- He can't help but smile to himself that maybe, his little bonnet shop with his sweet hatter can become a reality.  

TNBA Mad Hatter: 

- Jervis is delighted to have you by his side. 

- While he works and tinkers with his inventions. 

- You would be working away at some new headwear. 

- He'd always prefer your charming top hats you made. 

- But then again, everything you made was as beautiful as you. 

- He admires your skill and your big heart. 

- He's always happy to try on one of your hats; in fact he considers it an honor.

Gotham Mad Hatter:

- Jervis finds it almost too perfect. 

- He constantly finds himself in urgent and reckless situations.

- Which puts his beloved hat in dire straits 

- And who is he if he doesn't have his hat? 

- He also doesn't mind if you patch him up as well along with his hat. 

- Even though you tend to bend his ear in the process…

- Jervis is just delighted to have someone so endearing in his corner.

- He truly thinks it was destiny that you two found each other.

Harley Quinn: TAS Mad Hatter:

- How would you feel about working for him?

- He needs enough cowboy hats to take over the city–

- oh…not up your alley huh?

- Well, at least he made you laugh

- It's awkward at first, it seems so fitting but yet there's some slight contrast in motivations.

- You do seem to put him at ease somehow. 

- He enjoys watching you work.

- You're a better distraction than playing spin the tea pot and drink either cyanide or tea.

Joker’s Asylum Mad Hatter:

- At first he's somewhat uneasy…

- He's trying to avoid tea and hats…to be with a Hatter would be counterintuitive. 

- Not that he isn't amazed by some of your creations. 

- Jervis can think of a plethora of characters who would don all the various hat wear. 

- He feels simultaneously overwhelmed but also right at home. 

- Your sweet, attentive, and honest nature helps him feel at ease.

- Yet maybe, just maybe, with someone as caring and mindful, perhaps he can finally have both love and hats.

Secret Six Mad Hatter: 

- Jervis is definitely likely to be competitive at first.

- Can you make a hat that would fit your pinky? Could you make a hat that would properly fit an apple? 

- He can't help but be impressed when you do just that and then some. 

- Soon envy turns into admiration for detail…

- You know he likes his food with hats and you make your own hats for all his meals. 

- Hats alone definitely becomes something of a love language between you two. 

- You'll make one's for him and he makes them for you. 

- You're the only one he trusts to take care of his hat if it gets damaged. 

- It's hard for Jervis to imagine being with anyone else but another Hatter. 

[moon-alight]

Could you do a fuma x chubby reader? slightly smut? only if you are comfortable!

Yes, hello! :) Sorry for the wait. I hope you like it. I'm chubby myself so I like doing things like these. Justice for us thick girls.

Also, this is my 69th post. . . I had to.

Masterlist

Your Curves - &Team Fuma

Synopsis: You're overweight (Whether a lot or a bit, whatever you like) and Fuma loves all your edges and curves.

Warnings: slight smut (whatever that means), fluff!!!!, chubby reader, talk about weight and bodyfat, Fuma being adorable, bodyworship, bit of self-fat shaming, talk about body dysmorphia, It's not very smutty, just a little. . .

Word Count: 1225

It wasn't hard to love your body when your boyfriend was so accepting in the way you look. He would never tell you this straight but he loves your curves more than anything. And you know that.

You're currently scrolling on tiktok while walking into the kitchen of the dorms to get yourself a glass of water. It is surprisingly quiet today since most of the guys had gone off to some theme park.

You scroll down another video when the familiar song fills your ears.

Get yourself to the Butterfly Lounge, find yourself a big lady Big boy, come on around and they'll be calling you baby

A beautiful bigger girl appears on your screen and you wonder, just for a moment, how you absolutely love her body but don't like yours that's so similar to it. Maybe it's a mind-trick and humans are supposed to hate their bodies.

You lean against the kitchen counter and click on the sound to see many more beautiful plus-sized women but also some skinny girls using the sound just because they don't want to be left out or something. Your confidence fades the longer you scroll.

There's not many plus-sized girls in the long run. Most girls using this sound are skinny but have body-dysmorphia. If only you had that, then you would've looked better at least. . .

"Hey darl--" Fuma stops when he hears the same sound being played from your phone, over and over and over again. He frowns and studies your face. You look down, sad, maybe a bit disappointed.

He can't have that.

He walks over and starts humming along to the song. When you replay it, he sings along and puts his hands on your waist before pulling you closer. You chuckle at his impulsive action.

"What are you doing?" You ask, holding onto his shoulders so you don't fall by the sudden pull he had just done.

"The song said, 'find yourself a big lady'. So I did." Fuma replies, simply. You stare at him, the insecurity returns and he sees it in the way your hands slide from his shoulders and your smile fades a little. "There's nothing wrong with being bigger."

"Then why do so many people make me feel bad?" You ask back. If there is really nothing wrong with it, why are there so many people fat shaming you constantly? Make it make sense.

"Because they have nothing better to do." Fuma tells you. "I love that you're bigger, there's just more of you which means more to love." You can't stop the smile from reappearing on your face. "And it suits you."

"You're telling me I'm supposed to look like this?" You ask, not being able to believe your boyfriend just yet.

"I do." He agrees, kissing your lips before going to the fridge and taking out some grapes.

"I'm very heavy though." You remind him. He rolls his eyes, manages to pick you up anyways and puts you down on the kitchen counter.

"Weight doesn't matter." Fuma says, standing between your legs and stroking your thighs with his hands. "Someone can look really, really slim but could weigh a lot because bone density or muscle mass or unhealthy food, and then someone could look really big but could weigh less so numbers don't really matter."

"I look big and I weigh a lot."

"That's why I'm going to the gym, baby." He tells you, offering you a grape which you take. "So I can lift you anyway." He winks and takes a glass, fills it with water and hands it to you. "So, what's the problem here?" At this point you can't disagree anymore.

"Fine. . . I'm beautiful and perfect and amazing." Fuma smiles at you.

"That's it." He boops your nose and wraps his arms around you. You place the glass of water down on the counter next to you and wrap your own arms around him. You suddenly feel him squeeze your sides.

"What are you doing?" You ask, a giggle leaves your lips at the ticklish feeling.

"Squashing my teddy bear."

"Alright, that's my thirteenth reason." You joke and push him away from you.

"Are you kidding me?" Fuma asks, crossing his arms over his chest. "How dare you push me away?"

"You called me a teddy bear!"

"Because you are!" Fuma says. You roll your eyes. "Hey! I know you didn't just roll your eyes at me."

"What if I did."

"Don't provoke me." Fuma warns but you're curious where this goes so you go on.

"I definitely rolled my eyes at you. . . and I'd do it again." Fuma gasps dramatically and walks towards you, he places his hands on either side of your legs on the counter, his gaze is sharp.

"Last chance, care to take that back?" You stare at him and shake your head. "My teddy bear is being very mean right now."

"Stop calling me teddy bear." You whine out, pouting a little.

"Have you forgotten you look like one?" He asks back. "I could also call you munchkin but that seems even worse." You chuckle.

"Are you done?" You ask, he looks at you.

"I haven't even started." He leans up and kisses you. What was supposed to be just a normal kiss became a bit more heated and before you knew it, you were making out in the kitchen. He reaches to take off your shirt but you're hesitant once again. "Are you kidding? Princess?"

"I'm sorry." You look down. "What if you don't like me?" Fuma has a very annoyed look in his face.

"You know, I thought you were much smarter." He says.

"I have stretchmarks--"

"Tiger stripes." He corrects you.

"Cellulite--"

"Beauty scars."

"I--" You stare at him, you try to look for a thing that would put him off because that's what you had to hear all your life. "Fat."

"Extra squash."

"jiggling arms and legs, I got stomach rolls."

"Personal squishies."

"Damnit, Fuma." You breathe out, defeatedly.

"What do you think will happen when you take your shirt off?" He asks, seriously.

"Maybe you'd get disgusted or not like me anymore."

"Baby, it's more likely for me to die from a heart attack." He looks you up and down. "Or from happiness." You push him playfully and smile at him. Maybe it were his words or maybe it was a heat-of-the-moment thing but you take the fabric of your shirt and pull it off of you.

Fuma stares at you, his eyes take in your body. You watch as a smile makes its way on his face, he bites his bottom lip. "Fuck." He breathes out. You see his cheeks redden.

"Can I touch you?" He asks, making grabby hands to you. You laugh and nod. He leans up, kissing your lips once more as his hands roam over your chest. His fingers glide over your stretchmarks. He traces each and every one of them on both sides of your hips. You suddenly hear him giggle. You frown.

"Are you okay?"

"No." He giggles again, like a school girl. "I'm in Heaven." You can't believe how you've gotten so lucky. "Don't you dare ever hide yourself from me again."

"I won't." You promise. He smiles and pecks your lips. "Now, I can die in peace if I have to."

"Oh my God!"