#i love my son i promise /silly

[spinspoon]

wet fucking cat /silly

[ikiprian]

i have sooo many thoughts about damian and his pets. of course titus is the most obedient dog you've ever seen! of course alfred's coat shines like a show cat's! they're the best of their species, chosen and raised with care. they are one of a kind. they are indispensable. they are assets.

damian trains his animals with the same desperate fervor talia trained him. if he is strong, he will not be sent away. if he stays ahead of the curve, he will not be sent away. if he follows orders, embodies league values, grows quickly into his role of perfect heir, he will not be sent away.

(of course, mother sent him away, anyway. and it's not until years later, when titus tears a ligament in his knee and must be carried into the vet's, that he understands. as much as he prepares them for the scrutiny of the world, as much as his heart aches and fingers worry at the subpar upholstery in the waiting area— some aspects of their health and happiness are better delegated to others.)

[fluffs-n-stuffs]

Even more Pokémon Horizons Episode 33 spoilers under the cut!

PLEASE LOOK AT THE SUBTITLE CAPTIONS DURING THESE SPECIFIC CLIPS IT JUST KILLS ME SDUHFSDNFKSJDFHSDN

[ladybonedemon]

I love how Sandy is quite literally the sweetest, most loveable character literally ever. I have not, and never WILL meet someone who unironically finds him annoying or boring, or thinks he's a waste of time.

This is THE wholesome blue man, he has a blue cat, he's a fucking giant who likes tea and cats! He could crack your skull in an instant but he chooses not to!!!

He's literally always pulling his punches any time he has to fight because he doesn't wanna hurt anyone !!! Look at my silly guy!!!

[e-m-p-error]

MULTIMUSE QUESTIONAIRE

Tagging: @infernalight, @infernal-feminae, @heartsofhell, @questionablemuses, @because-i-simp, @frostworkxfiction, @deepspacevivarium, @hotelbitches, @voxiiferous

RULES: Answer the questions with the Muses that would best fit the answers. Bonus if you give details why. If tagged, copy and paste into a new post – DO NOT REBLOG!

1) Rank your softest Muse and your toughest Muse. (Personality-wise)

My softest muse is definitely Vick. He's a 0 on the toughness scale, he's a big teddy bear and he will choose kindness over anything else at any point.

My toughest muse is probably Barbie. Girl is tough as nails and will not be stopped if she puts her mind to something. She doesn't take pain as a reason to stop and will go harder when it hurts.

2) Which Muse would blow through $1000 quickly?

Valentino, hands down. He spends $1,000 every day easily on things he doesn't even need. He loves to buy expensive things and will do so at all hours. He especially loves spending Vox's money. $1,000 is a drop in the bucket for him and he doesn't even notice spending it.

3) Do any of them have nicknames? Is there a meaning behind them?

Quite a few of them do!

Valentino answers to Bunny from his lovers, it's a subspace trigger word for him. I assigned him Bunny because he's Cute And Horny, aka a rabbit, and a bunny sub is fairly common.

4) Are any of them up-to-speed on the latest trends? Anyone more old school?

Velvette, Vox, and Valentino are obsessed with always being on top of the next new thing.

Alastor hates new things and will fight them as much as he can.

5) Who has the best relationship with their siblings?

Valentino had a fairly good relationship with his siblings when he was alive. He had seven of them, plus three live-in cousins that were like his siblings.

6) Karaoke night! Who is likely to grab the mic first and bust out a tune?

Beelzebub, Ozzie, Valentino, and Ostello! They all love to sing and party, and they're all pretty good at it. Ostello was a pop-jazz singer when he was alive and before he died in Hell, too!

7) Who is least likely to enter a beauty pageant/model?

Gretchen. She doesn't think that she's very pretty, and would just feel embarrassed even going to watch.

Travis. He is constantly told he's very ugly, and he doesn't have a very high opinion of his looks.

8) If your Muses visited a haunted house where actors scare you, who would panic and who would be unfazed? 

Chazz, Gretchen, Charlie, Anya, Magpie, Summer, Travis, and Vick would be the easiest to scare!

Valore, Dimas, Cash, Glitz, Stu, Paimon, Alastor, Darío, Niffty, and Vox would be the hardest to phase.

9) Are any of your Muses particular about taking certain modes of transportation?

Vox prefers to be driven around and doesn't like driving himself.

Valentino only likes to drive occasionally and prefers pretty sports cars when he does.

Anya and Darío are motorcycle people.

Emily enjoys bicycles!

10) Share a little-known fact about any Muse.

Adam is actually a very good father and he loves kids and babies. He is very tender with children even if he can be harder on them once they have grown into adults.

[martyrbat]

Embalming: History, Theory, and Practice, Sixth Edition

[TEXT ID: As we yearned for physical connection with the ones we love, we also longed to be present with the ones we had lost.]

[floatyflowers]

Dark Platonic! Fire Nation Royal Family x Non-bender Reader

With Ozai:

At first he didn't accept the fact that you, his youngest child, is a non-bender, and ignored your existence.

That was until he noticed how his older brother, Iroh, spends time with you, Ozai got extremely jealous.

And decided to spend time with you, only to realize that you are his favorite child, and felt like an actual father.

Yes, you can't firebend nor do you even have the ability to protect yourself.

But why would you need to protect yourself when your father is going to be the Phoenix king of the fire nation?

Ozai will burn down the world for you.

"You, my sweet child, will grow up in the presence of a very powerful father"

With Ursa:

When Ursa found out that you couldn't bend, she became overprotective of you to the point of paranoia.

Since childhood, she refused to allow you to play with anyone except Zuko.

One time, one of her handmaidens scolded you harshly for playing outside without your mother's permission which resulted in you bursting into tears.

The next day, that handmaiden was fired and Ursa made sure that she gets no other jobs.

While thinking of escaping, she thought to take you with her.

However, Ozai has forbidden that from happening.

"When you find out the truth, promise to come find me"

With Azulon

While still alive, he made sure you had the best education and guards.

Azulon also made sure to have you believe that the fire nation is without mistakes or faults.

He tried manipulating you into believing that just your loyalty to your people is enough duty.

However, you are kind, too kind.

Yet, he Azulon didn't hate you for it even if he considered a weak trait to have in the royal family.

He also still has the flower crown you made him stored away safely so it doesn't rot.

It is rumored that the last word he muttered was your name.

With Iroh

Uncle Iroh isn't really as possessive as the other characters, but he focuses on advising you from time to time.

You enjoy drinking tea with him and gossiping about everything.

Even though, Ozai has forbidden him from speaking with you, you would sneak behind your father's back to drink tea with him.

After the loss of his son in the war, Lu Ten, Iroh felt depressed.

Yet you managed to comfort him with your cheerfulness and playful attitude.

It reminded him of his son.

"The best quality in a princess is her kindness, something which your sister clearly lacks"

With Zuko

Zuko thought you would be like Azula but you have proven him wrong.

You are kind, gentle, and nurturing just like your and his mother.

That's why Zuko always found himself by your side, being your playmate...being your protecter.

His mother told him that it's his duty to protect you from danger considering that he is your older brother.

Even though Azula has never hurt you, but Zuko was always wary of her, especially after his mother disappeared.

When Ozai challenged him to an Agni Kai, you were the first to cry out and plead with him to let Zuko off, but Ozai felt jealous of your relationship with Zuko and was determined to teach his son a lesson.

However when your brother got banished, Zuko took you with him in secret not wanting you to be left with Azula.

"I know the journey will take long but once I restore my honor we can return home together"

With Azula

Azula was extremely jealous when you were born, thinking that you will take all the attention from here.

But she realized that you deserve all the attention.

You didn't treat her like a monster, you weren't scared of her.

Instead you showed her love and called her 'big sister'

You would cling to her as a toddler, whenever there was lightning, you would secretly sneak to her room and sleep beside her.

"How can you be scared of lightning, we control it, silly"

Mai and Ty Lee saw how Azula softens whenever you are around.

And when Azula discovered that you have left with Zuko, she destroyed everything in her way and burned a few servants.

"She's mine, and only MINE"

[tojipure]

Haunted

masterlist - part one

I tried my best to tag as many people!

The long awaited part two! I'm so sorry if this doesn't live up to your guys expectations! I really felt like so much people were waiting for a part two and I've been so busy, but hopefully you all enjoy!

You were like a shot of espresso, a ray of sunlight and one would be so lucky just to even be in your presence.

That's how he saw it at least. The gummy smile that was glued on your face as you listened to Megumi's silly stories he'd make up just to entertain you.

Wherever you stepped foot, the mood would lighten drastically.

He knew that because if you were here with him right now, Megumi wouldn't be crying his heart out begging his dad to call you. Toji wouldn't be struggling to fall asleep as he looked at your side of the bed imagining you there. He wouldn't be crossing his fingers hoping that every notification on his phone would be you.

"The princess and prince got married and lived happily ever after." You smiled as Megumi watched you close the book in awe. His cheeks were painted with a light pink, "You and Daddy?" You couldn't help but giggle at cute sleepy Megumi.

"No..." You whispered, noticing his eyes getting heavy.

Toji's eyes shifted towards you and his baby boy on the shared bed, Megumi of course having one of his fits and you never being able to say no to him. His heart felt heavy, hearing the cold truth slip from your mouth.

"You've been out of it Fushiguro..."

There he was back to reality in his cold—big office. Standing in front of him was Shiu, his best and his closest employee. "Zenin." Toji corrected which caught Shiu by surprise. Toji was proud to have his wife's last name, yet here he is using his last name.

No wedding ring? Shiu thought to himself, looking at Toji’s empty fingers. But in fact his fingers were not empty, because there sat the dark purple promise ring you had gotten him for your third year anniversary. Shiu smiled to himself, he was moving on—for the better. 

“You and Y/n are doing better, I guess?” He sighs, taking a couple steps towards his boss’s desk and plopping himself on the chair in front of him. His smile fading hearing the vague no, coming from his boss. 

“She left actually, but it’s better this way.” 

“Is it?” 

“No, it’s not.” You smiled as the soft yellow light from the candle illuminated onto your face. How Toji’s heart melted when he saw that little sparkle in your eyes. “I actually love kids.” Your eyes shifted to the little stroller after Toji mentioned how stupid it was to try to go on dates as he had a whole baby. 

“It’s been rough ever since my wife passed.” 

He remembers that look on your face when he told you how recently his wife had passed. It was the first date, he brought his son and mentioned his dead wife. There was no way he would ever see you again after that. But he was wrong because you always found your way back.

“Daddy—gumi hungry!” The little boy pouted as Toji noticed the burning smell of the food. It had been way too much now, spacing out every chance he had just to think about you.

Where are you?

Are you okay?

He wonders if you’re doing better now that you left him.

Probably, right?

Wrong.

“You need to clean this place up, it’s a mess y/n.” Your mom says entering your small apartment. The tiny cans of energy drinks scattered around the place, tissues and a pile of blankets on the couch.

She sighed watching your frail body sit up from the couch, her arm wrapped around your body and she placed small kisses on your forehead.

“It’s gonna take a while to get back on his feet. When your father passed away, it took years for me to officially realize that he was gone y/n.”

That’s what hurt the most, how long was Toji willing to take to realize? What if he forgets about you?

“Go back to your daily life, my baby he will call you when he’s ready. I see the love in his eyes.” She smiled once more before bringing you closer in her embrace.

This is what you needed.

The embrace of someone else’s while your life was slowly changing.

His thumb hovered over your contact. His hands shaking as the tears swell in his eyes. It’s been well over six months since the break up.

Toji was more than ready.

He was just afraid now, afraid of the fact that the women he had a past with moved on and would reject his return.

His thumb firmly pressing the dial button as he brings his phone up towards his ear. He could feel his throat closing and his stomach churning.

“Hello?”

<- previous next part ->

taglist: @ssc7514@utarts@my1guilty1pleasures@bangchansthings@nxxun-blog@sidelnes@khaleesihavilliard@wr4inn@r0ckst4rjk@iwishigotswallowed@ryumurin@traacy-lin@aikori6@slowlyswimmingmoon@mikyapixie@dreamlessnight@maliakealoha

[allywthsr]

THE CRASH | (l.norris)

summary: Lando and you fight right before the Las Vegas gp, turns out your nerves couldn’t take it after he crashes

wordcount: 2.4k words

pairing: landonorris x fem!reader

warnings: angst, the crash

notes: I loved this idea when I saw it in my inbox and could not not write it. Here it is, what do we think about this??? I hope you like it 🫶🏼 btw, please come talk to me in my inbox, I’m bored🥲

”I can’t believe you right now!“, Lando and you had been fighting all evening over some silly thing. What started as a small joke, turned into a big argument and you didn’t know how or what happened. All you remember was, that Lando had been tense all weekend and was sensitive to certain things, but you didn’t think he was going to explode, so he got all mean and pushy with you because he was truly agitated.

”Y/N, maybe you shouldn’t have begun to talk about this, I need to concentrate on my racing.“

The screaming you both were doing could probably be heard in the motorhome next to you, but you didn’t care. Lando was clearly wrong and he needed to get your point.

”You started this fight, so stop being a child! Just get where I‘m coming from, you‘ve been in a mood all weekend and you let it out on me, you‘ve only looked for a fight so you could let your anger out.“

”That’s not true! You put words in my mouth and twisted them, as always.“

You two rarely fought, but if you did, there was screaming involved.

”If you hadn’t put me on your jpg account from when you took pictures of me while laying in our bed, we wouldn’t be in this position. I clearly told you that I don’t want this, and you went and did it anyway.“

”It’s just a picture!“

”You read the comments, they hate the way I look, and especially in that picture. You promised me it was for your use only, and you betrayed that.“

”You’re making a bigger deal than it is, calm the fuck down.“

”I won’t! I want you to see my point here.“

”You’re not seeing mine either. It’s a stupid picture, you weren’t naked, you weren’t making a stupid face, you were just looking at the camera, without any makeup but you were beautiful, grow the fuck up and get over these comments.“

”Lando I think I’m going to leave, you enjoy your race, I’ll be watching from the garage but we need space from each other right now, or we say things we don’t mean.“

”You can’t just run away from this conversation, you always do that.“

”I can watch me“, and with that, you walked out the door of his driver's room and slammed it on your way out. Several McLaren employees looked at you with big eyes, but you couldn’t take it right now, you needed five minutes in peace, so you could calm down, and think about the fight again.

Just thirty minutes later, you sat in the garage and waited for Lando to get in his car, normally you two would come in together and he would be cuddly with you, kissing and hugging you until it was time to get in his beloved car, but today was different. You came in alone, way before Lando even had to be in the garage to finally get in the car, he was in a mood when Jose tried to talk to him about data, and when he finally walked into the garage to drive to the grid, he stormed right past you, not even looking at you. By then everyone knew something was up, he never hoped in the car without giving you a kiss. Jon gave you a questioning look, but you shrugged your shoulders and mouthed a ’later‘ to him.

You watched on the TV how he got the last definitely needed laps in and then got pushed by his crew to his starting position. This was also a thing that bothered him, P15 wasn’t something he was used to nowadays.

After the anthem, Adam joined you.

”What’s up with him? He‘s been off all weekend.“

”I know, we had a fight right before he had to go and you know how we fight. It happened over this silly thing and now he‘s pissed at me, I couldn’t even say good luck to him.“

You looked at Adam, he knew his son longer than you did, maybe he had an idea how you could solve things.

”Lando’s always been a stubborn kid, give him time and talk to him after the race, I‘m sure he‘s cooled down by then.“

”Maybe you’re right.“

With that you looked at the screen and saw Lando jumping in his car, going through the last things that he wrote down as his notes.

The engines roared and Adam and you put on the headsets, so you could hear what was said over the radio. Lando was driving around the track for the formation lap and stopped when he reached his position. You prayed that the start would be nice to your boy and he would get through without any crashes or touches. Even if you fought, you still wanted him to be careful and not crash.

The start went without any troubles for Lando, and this was the first time that you released a breath. After the start, Jon came over to you, to talk about Lando’s attitude.

”What’s wrong with you two? I’ve never seen you like this before.“

”We don’t fight often, maybe once every two months or something, and normally it happens when we’re home, but today it escalated when we arrived at the track. He posted this picture of me on his jpg account and I overreacted, he promised me that he wouldn’t post it and he still did. So I was a little angry with him when I asked him to delete it, he freaked out.“

”I‘m sure you can solve this after the race, don’t think about it too hard.“

He gave you a quick hug and you kept watching. Now it was lap three and Lando was fighting for every position. Every race was nerve-wracking for you, sure he was a good driver and the car was safe, but still, every time he sat in his car, your heart rate went up a bit, and you were scared that he would crash. With Adam and Jon next to you, you sat on the foldable chair and had your gaze on the many TVs in front of you, when he crossed the line and lap four began.

Adam mumbled something under his breath and you looked at him when you heard everyone around you inhaling their breath. Quickly you looked back at the TV and hoped someone other than Lando had crashed, but when you heard Jose with panic in his voice, asking if he was okay, you knew it was him. You grabbed Adams's arm, to hold onto something while trying to hold back your tears. Fear was written all over your face, and it only got worse when Jose asked a second time if he was fine and Lando pressed the talk button with his shaky hands. The heavy breaths made your heart sink in your stomach, and with the way he pressed the ’all good‘ out, he truly wasn’t all good. What haunted you most were his painful moans afterwards.

This was the worst scenario that could’ve happened, and the fact that it happened in his birthday week and after you two fought, made things only worse. He clearly wasn’t in the right mindset to race, and it was all your fault because you got irritated by the picture and the comments.

”I want to see him!“

”Y/N, calm down, he will probably be taken to the medical center and you know we can’t enter. He‘s fine, you know what he‘s like, he‘s tough.“

You looked back at the screen and saw how he was still sitting in his car, that wasn’t a good sign. Maybe he was too hurt to get out, you couldn’t just leave him alone in the medical center. With careful movements, he finally pushed himself out of his car, but he was slower than usual, he had to be in pain.

”I‘ll run to the medical center, I’m his performance coach, no one knows his body better than I do. At least in the medical areas, I can update you.“

You nodded continuously and pushed Jon slightly towards the exit of the garage. Now you were crying, it was all your fault, you turned away from any cameras and the big opening of the garage, so no one could picture you ugly sobbing. This was a way of crying that wasn’t pretty and not meant for anyone except you, and maybe Lando to see. Quickly Adam pulled you in tight for a hug, he was shaking himself, and you both needed comfort right now. His phone started ringing and you hoped it was Jon, but it was Cisca, she wanted to know if you knew anything about Lando’s health, but you didn’t and it freaked you out.

His arms could be broken and you wouldn’t know, if you wouldn’t see him soon, you would go crazy. After long fifteen minutes of walking up and down through the garage, finally, an incoming call from Jon lit up your phone.

”Jon, how is he?“

”He‘s okay, a bit shaken up and his whole body hurts a little from the impact, but he‘ll be fine. They want to take him to an actual hospital to scan him, to rule out any internal injuries.“

”I want to come!“

”Y/N, you can’t. It’s better if you wait for him in the hospitality, he needs rest.“

”No, Jon, I need to see him“, the tears were streaming down your face again, at the thought that you can’t be by his side right now.

”We’re already in an ambulance and on our way to the next hospital, we can’t fetch you.“

”I‘ll get a car.“

”You won’t see him, even if you come, he‘ll be in the scan and we can’t join him there. I‘m with him, he‘s not alone, I‘ll send you a picture.“

”Let me talk to him.“

”His arms are trapped under a blanket, and he got some medication to hide the pain a little, he‘s drugged up and talking nonsense. He wouldn’t get what you’re saying anyway.“

”Is that even safe?“

”Yes“, he chuckled, ”He‘s alright, don’t worry. The scan is just a precaution thing, we should be out in at least two hours.“

With a heavy breath, you accepted that you couldn’t see him in person right now.

”But please send me a picture of him, and tell him I love him.“

”Will do, and you’re going to calm down, he’s fine.“

”I‘ll try, thank you, Jon.“

You turned to Adam and quickly talked him through what Jon told you, before calling Cisca and telling her the same.

Two hours later…

You just received a text from Jon, telling you they are in a car right now, that‘ll take them to the track. Impatiently you sat in the hospitality and waited for Lando to walk through the door, and when you saw him opening the glass door, you were crying again. The way the jacket was way too big for him, and his overall was hanging on his hips, made your heart clench, your poor boy. You ran towards him and hugged him tightly, while still being careful that you weren’t hurting him. He grabbed your hand and pulled you to his driver's room, where you were hugging once again.

You pulled out of the hug and put your hands on his cheeks.

”I am so so sorry that I overreacted with the picture, just because of me, you weren’t focused and lost the car to that bump. I will never fight with you ever again.“

Lando used the pad of his thumb to wipe away the salty tears, that escaped your eye.

”It’s not your fault, fight or not, the bump would’ve been there and I would’ve lost control. I‘m okay, yeah? You don’t need to worry anymore, and you definitely need to stop crying, because there is nothing to cry about.“

”Do you forgive me?“

”Of course, it’s all forgotten, I shouldn’t have posted the picture, and I‘m truly sorry. I‘ll delete it once I have my phone.“

”No don’t do that“, you put your head against his chest and breathed in his scent, Lando was closing his arms around your shoulders and touched the back of your head. Featherlight kisses were placed on the side of your head, and you two enjoyed the silence.

A knock interrupted you two and Adam was standing in the door, he tightly hugged his son as well and kissed his cheek.

”You should call your mum, she‘s worried sick.“

Lando nodded and grabbed your phone that you held out before dialing the number of his mum. After the quick talk, Cisca was reassured her son was fine and Lando wanted to go to the debrief. With his hospital bracelet, still on his wrist, he sat there like he didn’t just crash.

He was professional after all.

Until you returned to the hotel, you waited with Adam and Jon in the hospitality for Lando to finish his meetings, and when he did, Jon drove you safely back to the hotel, where you took care of Lando, so he was back on track for the last race.

taglist: @millinorrizz @jamieeboulos @loxbbg

[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

[thewulf]

Never Let You Go || Aaron Hotchner

Summary: Request - Hiya! Can i request an angsty/fluffy aaron fic?Aaron and reader get into a fight because reader has been ignoring hotch since he forgot her birthday (its been a week after at that point) so he confronts her and they fight.... Read Rest Here

A/N: You guys have the best requests. Please keep sending them in. Hope you like a good little hurt/comfort.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

TW: Yelling, intentional hurt

It was a rainy Saturday night when your heart broke for the hundredth time under the false promises from your longtime boyfriend, Aaron. You knew what you were getting into when you got into the relationship all those years ago. You knew he worked long hours. You knew he had a son who was his, and now your, priority. You knew he would have to cancel plans, dates, anniversaries. You knew it all. What you didn’t expect was him to forget about your birthday completely. He was home, at the BAU, and worked late instead of coming home and taking you out. You had plans! But he just… forgot.

It wasn’t until you brought it up the next day, mumbling it to him with a saddened look did he recognize he had forgotten. What broke your heart was the fact that he didn’t even make up for it. He didn’t get you flowers or a gift or even apologize. He just… moved on. And you had no idea how much it bothered you until that fateful Saturday night as the rain poured down. You were angry at him. You had accepted the misses and the cancelations. What you couldn’t get over was the fact that he had forgotten it completely and didn’t even want to make it right.

When you heard the lock twist and Aaron entered your shared residence all you wanted to do was run away from him. You didn’t want to talk to him. You didn’t even want to look at him. You weren’t sure if you even wanted to be with him anymore.

When he walked into the kitchen you turned away, busying yourself with unloading the dishwasher.

“Hey baby.” He walked over to you giving you a hug from behind. Aaron wasn’t remiss to the way you tensed under his touch. How you simply mumbled something incoherent to him. It was when you pushed him away did he finally realize something was off.

“Honey, what’s up?” He asked.

Was he playing dumb? Did he really not know just how deeply he had hurt you by ignoring something you loved so much? You knew it was silly, but birthdays were your thing. You were the friend who went all out for others. You just wanted someone to celebrate you the way you had to others, especially Aaron.

You felt tears pricking at the corner of your eyes as your brain got yourself worked up. Maybe it was best to just keep quiet because you had no idea if you could hold back the waterworks. So, instead of answering him you simply walked away. Your momma always taught you it was best to not get into an argument when you were feeling emotional about the situation.

But that seemed to set him off further. You had been cold to him all week. Not greeting him like you normally did. Not leaving out his dinner like you so often would when he worked late. Yet you just couldn’t seem to care. If he didn’t care for you why should you return the favor?

He couldn’t take it anymore. So, he snapped at you. "Are you ever going to talk to me?" Aaron's voice breaks the suffocating silence in the home, the frustration evident in his tone. You were thankful Jack was sleeping over at a friend’s house now. You knew the inevitable fight was bound to happen.

You sat down on the couch, but you didn’t dare turn to face him. "What's there to talk about?" Your voice is icy, the bitterness seeping through each word.

Aaron took a step closer to you, the distance between you feeling like an icy rift he wasn’t quite used to with you. "You know exactly what we need to talk about," he retorts, his patience wearing thin. "You've been ignoring me ever since—"

"Since you forgot my birthday?" You cut him off sharply, your voice laced with resentment. "Yeah, I remember. You’re a profiler. Profile it Aaron." Venom was laced in your voice as you finally made eye contact.

His jaw clenches at the reminder, guilt gnawing at his insides. He messed up, and he knows it. And he knew he had been ignoring it. Ignoring the subtle signs, you left him. He knew how important these things were to you. And he took the cowards route of simply trying to ignore it. He knew better than to do that with you. He had been taking advantage of your kindness thinking you would simply ignore it. But you were reaching your breaking point. And he was exhausted from work. He simply knew this wasn’t about to be a good conversation.

“Look, I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you.” He offered. But the effort felt hallow.

You shook your head blinking back the tears. “You’re just saying that because I’m angry! You had no intention of making it right Aaron!” You hardly ever raised your voice yet here you were, yelling at the man who looked overly tired. He rarely brought home his work with him, but it must’ve been something about his last case that had ravaged him.

He let out a rather obvious sigh of frustration, clearly exhausted. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

You bit back the harsh words you wanted to use. “I wanted you to remember! To apologize for forgetting. I want you to pretend like you give a single shit about me! You couldn’t even remember my birthday?” That was a low blow, and you knew it yet somehow you couldn’t care.

Things were bound to spiral when you saw the anger in his gaze. “I apologized! If you didn’t make such a big deal about something so small this wouldn’t even be a problem. I’m starting to see why I forgot.”

It felt like the wind was knocked out of you right then and there. Each word feeling like another dagger to your already broken heart. Physically, you recoiled as if he had hit you, your eyes were wide with disbelief. “I can’t believe you just said that.” You stood from the couch knowing you were going to run away from him. Your voice wavered just above a whisper as you spoke.

Regret washed over his face as he heard your floundering voice. He had taken it too far. Gone a step further than he needed. He crossed that invisible line that held the relationship together. “Baby… I didn’t mean it like that.” His eyes were wide as he reached for you. But you wouldn’t let him touch you, no. Not after those comments. “I’m just tired and frustrated and I just wanted to hold you tonight. I hate that we are fighting over something so stupid. But baby, I don’t know how to fix this. Tell me what I need to do.”

You shook your head rapidly frustrated beyond belief with him. “Something so stupid?” Your voice gave way to the weakness you felt in the moment, “My birthday is stupid now?”

Your words hung heavy in the air between the two of you. Aaron felt that lump form in his throat knowing he had used the wrong words yet again. It felt like he was being crushed over the weight of his mistakes now.

Before he can find the words to respond, you turn on your heel, your shoulders slumped with defeat. "I'm not so sure if there's anything left to fix," you say softly before walking away, leaving him standing alone in the wreckage of your shattered relationship in the living room of your home.

As he watches you disappear down the hallway, Aaron knows that he has lost more than just an argument. He has lost a piece of your heart, and he isn't sure if he will ever be able to win it back. But he is determined to try, no matter what it takes. Because you were worth fighting for, worth every moment of pain and heartache it would take to earn your forgiveness. And as he stood there alone in the empty room, Aaron vowed to do whatever it takes to make things right again. Even if it means confronting the darkest parts of himself and facing the harsh truth of his own shortcomings.

The silence in the house is deafening as Aaron stands outside the closed bedroom door, his heart heavy with regret. He can feel the weight of his mistakes coming own on him, each passing second only serving to deepen the ache in his chest. With a trembling hand, he reaches out and knocks softly on the door, the sound reverberating through the empty hallway. "Please," he whispers, his voice barely above a hoarse murmur. "Let me in."

There is no response from the other side, no indication that you have even heard him. But Aaron refuses to give up hope. He knows he has hurt you, but he can't bear the thought of losing you, not now, not ever. And you laid there in your bed, hurting beyond measure trying to ignore the man you loved more than life itself.

"Please, just talk to me," he pleads, his voice cracking with every emotion. "I know I screwed up, but I'm begging you, give me a chance to make it right. Please baby."

Still, there is nothing but silence from the other side of the door, and Aaron feels his heart sink even further. He presses his forehead against the cool wood, his chest constricted with the weight of his longing. You wanted to forgive him, to let him in. But you couldn’t, not yet. No matter how desperate he sounded.

"I can't do this without you," he pleads, his voice barely a whisper. "You mean everything to me, and I'll do whatever it takes to earn your forgiveness. Just... please, let me in." He tries once more to get you to crack. And it worked. You’d never heard him so desperate. His voice so raw with emotion.

For what felt like an eternity, there was no response, and Aaron feared that he had lost you for good. But just as he is about to give up hope, he hears the faint sound of movement from within the room, followed by the soft click of the door unlocking. As much as you wished you knew you couldn’t ice him out completely. You had both thrown unkind words at the other

His heart leaps with hope as the door cracks open, revealing your tear-streaked face, your eyes red and puffy from crying. Aaron's breath catches in his throat at the sight of you, his heart breaking at the pain he has caused. "I'm so sorry," he whispers, his voice choked with emotion. "I never meant to hurt you. Please, let me make it right."

You hesitate for a moment, uncertainty flickering in your eyes. But then, with a resigned sigh, you step aside, silently inviting him into the room. Without a second thought, Aaron crosses the room, pulling you into his arms with a fierce, desperate longing. He holds you close, his heart overflowing with gratitude as he vows to never hurt you like he had just done.

As Aaron holds you tightly against him, he feels the weight of your sorrow pressing against his chest. He can sense the tremors wracking your body, the silent sobs that wring tears from your eyes, and it tears at his soul with a sharp, agonizing ache. "I'm not supposed to be the one who makes you cry," he whispers, his voice thick with remorse. "I'm the one who's supposed to dry your eyes, to chase away your tears, not cause them."

His words hang heavy in the air between you, a painful reminder of the mistakes he had made. He had never wanted to hurt you, never imagined that his actions could bring you to such sadness. And yet, here you are, crumbling in his arms, your heart laid bare for him to see. "I'm so sorry baby," he whispers, pressing a tender kiss to the top of your head as you bury your face against his chest, your tears soaking through the thin fabric of his shirt. "I'll do whatever it takes to make things right, I promise."

But his assurances feel hollow, meaningless in the face of your pain. He knows that mere words are not enough to mend the wounds he has inflicted, that it will take more than empty promises to earn your forgiveness. For he had let you down so many times before. As Aaron holds you close, he knows that his actions will speak louder than any words he could offer. He will need to show you, day by day, that he is truly sorry, that he is committed to making amends and rebuilding the trust he has shattered.

He begins by being there for you in every way that he could possibly be, anticipating your needs before you even have to ask. He cooked your favorite meals, not because he wants to impress you, but because he wants to show you that he does in fact care about you. He knows you more than you knew yourself.  He listens to you, really listens, to every word you speak, hanging on to your every thought and feeling, eager to understand the depths of your sadness caused by him.

He showers you with small gestures of affection, leaving little notes around the house, reminding you of his love and devotion. He holds your hand when you walk as a reassurance that he will always be by your side, no matter what.

But most importantly, he gives you space when you need it, allowing you the time and freedom to heal at your own pace. He doesn't push you to forgive him, doesn't demand your trust before you are ready. Instead, he remains patient, steadfast in his determination to prove himself worthy of your love once more. And as the days turn into weeks, and the weeks into months, Aaron watches with bated breath as the walls you had erected around your heart begin to crumble. He sees the flicker of hope in your eyes, the tentative smile that graces your lips more and more often. He sees you returning to the light he had let burn out.

And when you finally reach out to him with a certain uncertainty, Aaron knows that he has been given a second chance. A chance to rebuild what they had lost, stronger and more resilient than ever before. And so he takes your hand in his vowing to never let you go, to cherish you, to protect you, to love you with every fiber of his being. As you walk hand in hand into the future, Aaron knows that you have weathered the storm together. The two of you emerged on the other side, whole once more.

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Request Taglist: @spookyparadisesheep @nelliebug18 @fictionallifestuff

[lisired]

dress code

pairing: professor!yuta x student!reader

genre/warnings: smut, power imbalance, age gap, spanking, yuta likes fucking you in your skirts and hitting it from the back, don’t really think there’s much degradation or praise, oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex (dont be silly wrap ur willy)

summary: Nakamoto Yuta and his rings have caught your eye. In an effort to seduce your professor, you decide to take your best friend’s advice and change your wardrobe. You’re given an advantage when Yuta’s son asks you to tutor him, and it’s like Satan is handing you opportunities on a silver platter - but at what cost?

word count: 7.4k

a/n: ¾ of the Temptation series. feedback is appreciated!

“Who are you thinking about?”

You flinched when you heard a voice direct a question towards you. You turned to your side to see Ten, who instead of apologizing for startling you, leaned in curiously.

Nakamoto Yuta, you wanted to exhale dreamily. To say that you were besotted with your professor was an understatement. In class, you could hardly pay attention to his lectures, eyes too busy swallowing him whole.

Yuta was one of the most handsome men you had ever laid eyes on. His long ginger hair and gorgeous face structure immediately caught your attention, though after time you noticed more and more that he knew how to accessorize himself in a way that best suited his style.

The rings were a personal favorite example of yours - both the ones on his ears and the ones around his fingers. They came in abundance, never no less than two at a time. And not only did they complement his beauty, they were the fuel for some of your classroom day dreams.

“How do you know I’m thinking about someone?”

Ten rolled his eyes, though he wasn’t surprised by your response. It was very in-character of you to dodge the question. “Easy. Your face is in your palms and you were staring into empty space with a love-struck smile on your face. Plus you’re answering a question with a question. Now spill the beans before the lecture starts.”

You sighed, knowing you were caught. Then quickly changed your posture, earning a snicker from the man beside you. As one of your best friends, Ten knew you too well. And as of one of his best friends, you knew he loved drama and other people’s business way too much to be safe.

“If I tell you,” you began, reluctant. “You have to promise you won’t judge.”

Ten winced and said, “I only make promises I know I won’t break, love. And the fact that you’re telling me this alone is an indicator that I am definitely gonna be judging you. With love.”

“With love, my ass,” you groaned. “Whatever. Then, promise me you won’t rat me out.”

“Now, I’m no snitch. Your secret is mine, best friend. Scout’s honor.”

There came the urge to hesitate and hold your tongue, but you knew Ten would press until you eventually opened up. There was no way he would come out of the room empty-handed unless your secret was serious. In a way it was, but he wouldn’t see it as that.

“Fine,” you huffed. His eyes were firm on you and you could feel them, awaiting your answer patiently. You opened your mouth with a sigh and whispered, “Professor Nakamoto.”

Ten burst into a fit of laughter. Loud laughter that drew unwanted attention and stares from confused nearby students. He was red in the face with an arm around his stomach.

With narrowed eyes, you asked, “Are you done?”

Ten shook his head. He laughed some more until he finally calmed down, then finally managed to get a sentence out. “You’re trying to screw Shotaro’s dad? You’re unbelievable.”

“Not screw him,” you replied, then Ten gave you a look that made it clear he could tell that you were lying. “Fine, goddammit. I want him, and I need him to want me. Dunno how, though.”

Your best friend shrugged. “Showing some skin always seems to work. Men can’t resist their temptations.”

You narrowed your eyes. “You’re a man.”

“Which makes my advice more plausible,” Ten shot without hesitation.

Point made. If there was anything you wanted to say after that, the words died on your tongue. You nodded in response. “Touché.”

Even though you would never admit it to his face, it was good advice and you were having a epiphany. As Yuta strutted into the room and bid the class good morning, rings on his ears and fingers, an idea was born in your mind.

You knew how to complement your beauty as well.

As soon as the next day, your plan came into action. You wore shorts that barely covered your thighs and clung to your skin, pairing them with a full-length top to avoid raising suspicion.

Part of your plan was to start slow. Given it was nearly summer, you were offered some leeway and no one would second-guess your apparent change in wardrobe, but too much skin might have become a problem. It wasn’t that you never wore anything revealing, but something of this frequency and extent was typically out of the question for you.

Boys catcalled you in the halls. Unwelcomed attention, but it was a sign you were doing something right. The other sign - one of which you dreaded even more - was your best friend’s reaction as you walked to your seat.

“Holy shit. I see you listened to your best friend for once.”

“I always listen to you. Now shut the hell up, he’s coming,” you whispered, pretending to look as if you were preparing.

Class was typical which was fine, you expected no  prompt changes. Your plan would be a gradual progress and you knew slow and steady won the race.

As per usual, you soon became distracted by your professor and began to fantasize. Yuta had a dangerous habit of running his fingers through his locks of hair, which brought inevitable attention to his hands. And thus his rings. Which spurred on your imagination every time without fail.

You thought about Yuta fingering you with his rings on, the surface of the material cool against your clit. The thought made your thighs press together with a shudder. It was always hell to think about your teacher during class because you had no way of relieving yourself, but there was always material for when you got home. Apart from both enjoying and needing the class, that was another good reason to show up everyday.

Soon you sank into thought. Someone like him had to be experienced. For one, he was older. Yuta had never stated that he’d been around, but sometimes he stopped the class to talk about things he did when he was in his twenties - which made you wonder what else he’d done. Then, he was devilishly handsome and you knew for a fact you weren’t the only one who had a thing for him. Yuta was the professor your peers swooned over, you could only imagine how many women his age flocked towards him.

Class came to an end which was fortunate for you. It meant that you got to go home and handle the ache between your thighs. Everyone left without wasting time and you told Ten not to wait for you. He shot you a knowing smirk and told you that he’d seen you tomorrow.

Other than Yuta, you purposely made sure you would be the last one to leave, packing away your materials ever so slowly and pretending to fix your clothes. Yuta never left before anyone and you could feel his eyes burn through you.

“No plans today?” Yuta asked, voice booming throughout the near-empty room. “You’re usually one of the first people to run out the door - and you always sit on the opposite side.”

That’s because I rush home to take care of myself, you thought. Though there was no way you would say that aloud. Instead you swung your bag over your shoulders and moved a premeditated distance from your desk. From where he stood, your legs were on display.

“No, sir. Just homework,” you lied. Of course you had plans, plans that concerned him. None that you could tell him about, though.

Gaze hard on you, Yuta bobbed his head and replied, “I see. Don’t let me hold up one of my top students, then. Have a good night.”

One of his top students. It was impossible to hold in your grin when he said that. Although it was true he was a major distractor when it came to your learning, you’d be damned if you didn’t make it your mission to study hard and impress him. Apparently, it was working.

“Goodnight, sir,” you bid him. Then you made a break for the door. Those plans awaited you at home in your bedroom and you knew that you’d be busy for a while.

When Shotaro approached you, you were completely unexpecting and somewhat fearful of what he had to say.

For one, there was no reason for Osaki Shotaro of all people to be approaching you. Sure, you had your mutual friendships and classes, but you weren’t close by any means and the sole time you recalled having a one-on-one discussion with him was when you were assigned together.

There was no class today. He found you in your natural habitat, the on-campus Starbucks with your laptop on the table and your headphones around your head. You only slung your headphones down your neck when you noticed him sitting across from you.

“May I help you, Taro?” you asked, throwing him a confused glance.

Shotaro nodded, breaking into a smile that you couldn’t deny was attractive. However, you were far too attracted to his father to be affected by his charms. “I got a problem.”

Now you were utterly confused. “I’m no problem solver.”

“Oh I think you are. I could really fucking use a math tutor and Ten told me you’d be my safest option. Said you wouldn’t mind, especially if I paid you up. I’ve been slacking in that subject lately and I gotta get it together if I wanna stay on the team,” the boy told you, albeit somewhat abashedly.

Ten, you slick motherfucker, you thought graciously. The connection between the pair was that they were both on the school’s competitive dance team together. Ten had seriously hooked both you and Shotaro up. Math happened to be your specialty and Shotaro lived with Yuta, his father. Tutoring him at his place would grant you even more opportunities.

“Holy shit,” you winced.

Shotaro nodded discontently. “Yeah, it’s bad, I know. Look, if you’re not down or something it’s all good. I get we’re not that close so it might seem weird for me to come up on you out of the blue. I’ll pay you twenty an hour, though.”

“On second thought, maybe I am a problem-solver,” you replied, much to Shotaro’s amusement. Twenty per hour for tutoring didn’t sound too bad, and plus, there was the firm chance you’d see Yuta. You outstretched your hand and said, “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

Shotaro shook your hand. “Alright, partner. When are you free?”

You told Shotaro your schedule and let him know you’d text him if you ever needed to take a rain check. He told you he’d follow the same procedure and you agreed to meet at his place for your first session on Friday. Satan was handing you opportunities on a silver platter.

When he left, you pulled out your phone and texted your best friend.

Thanks, you cunt, you messaged.

Ten replied back, Yeah, whatever. You owe me one.

That you did. But you were focused on bigger, larger things.

Nakamoto Yuta.

When Friday rolled around, you were beyond excited. Shotaro had warned you in advance that his father would be home and told you not to worry.

And you assured him that you didn’t mind. Little did he know, you were planning what you would wear the moment he let you know. It was a difficult choice. You wanted to wear something that would suit the heat though also not seem too much for a study session. In the end you settled for something simple yet revealing - a cute dress you found thrown away in the pits of your closet.

When you got to Shotaro’s house, Yuta welcomed you inside.

“Shotaro’s not here yet. He’ll be back soon. I apologize on his behalf for keeping you waiting,” Yuta said once you stepped inside and showed you to a spot on the couch.

You chirped politely, “It’s fine, sir. I don’t mind.”

He was quick to say, “We’re not on campus, you can drop the formalities. Call me Yuta.”

That made you blink in surprise, although you nodded nonetheless. It was definitely a step up the ladder and you hoped that you would soon be content. You didn’t want to just say it his name, you wanted him to make you scream it.

“The weather has been getting sunnier by the day, you’re probably thirsty,” Yuta figured, stepping into the kitchen. “Would you like anything to drink?”

“Water, please.”

Yuta kindly brought you a glass of water and you spent the entire time attempting to subtly survey him. When he handed you the drink, you tried your best not to stare at his hands. It seemed as if he wore rings no matter the occasion and they only made his already beautiful hands look nicer.

Then, you peeped his outfit. And simultaneously realized you had never seen your professor outside of formal attire - up until now, at least. That wasn’t to say that you were complaining. Whatever Yuta chose to wear suited his appearance and you could tell he had an impeccable idea of what style fitted him.

“You should learn how to keep your eyes to yourself.”

You blinked in surprise. “Excuse me?”

“You’re too smart to be playing dumb,” Yuta said, sitting to your side. You noticeably gulped in response to how close he had gotten, and his lips curled with amusement. “You think I don’t notice you staring at me? You’re not subtle.”

In spite of the water you were drinking, your mouth began to feel dry. There was nothing you could fix your mouth to say. Not only had you been caught, but Yuta was implying that he had noticed long before now. With that much knowledge on his hands, it would be simple to piece together why you were checking your professor out at every given opportunity.

The little smirk on his lips alone was enough to convince you that he knew your every thought that ran rampant in your mind. There was no other reason you would be looking at your professor so hard - staring concentratedly at his hands and face - if you had no carnal desires. 

Acknowledging your speechless state, Yuta leaned in and slid his thumb under your chin, leaving you no choice but to meet his knife-like gaze. “Be good for me and maybe, just maybe I’ll think about giving you what you want.”

The front door knob began to jiggle yet Yuta took his time to pull away from you. He began to sip from his glass and you tried to quickly appear as if nothing had happened - as if your heart wasn’t racing and threatening to pop out your chest.

Shotaro burst through the door and headed straight for the kitchen, a single grocery bag in his hold. “Sorry I’m late. Summer is beating my ass so I went to get ice cream. You want some?”

Shotaro didn’t notice a damn thing.

You just hoped he wouldn’t notice the way his father was looking at you, the same way you could feel him staring into your back.

Over the course of the next couple of weeks, nothing had escalated but the decreasing length of your outfits and the thick tension between you and your professor. There were hardly moments where you were alone and whatever seclusion you did have was always short-lived.

In spite of it all, your plan was so far a success. The longing stares became more mutual and frequent than ever. You noticed that Yuta would unabashedly gaze at whatever bare skin was available to his vision, which came in abundance and less and less was left to imagination. There was no doubt that Yuta had noticed - you just wondered if he would eventually confront you about what was an obvious motive by now. After all, he had told you that he’d think about giving you what you wanted.

If you’re good for him, you recalled. In all honesty, you weren’t sure what that entailed. Between the line of good or bad, you weren’t sure where you teetered in his eyes.

But you hoped that you were good. You wanted to be good. For him. It meant everything that he saw you in the same way you did him, and now that you knew there was a chance you could achieve everything that you had only dreamed of, you were over the moon with thrill.

You wanted Nakmoto Yuta, and you were determined to have him.

Class was typical, as always. Again you were left behind, although not on purpose. A text from Shotaro hindered you.

The text read, Raincheck. I forgot I had practice today.

You texted him back swiftly and began to pack away your materials. But when you made an attempt to leave, Yuta’s voice grounded you in place. “Come here.”

At first you stood there, unable to move an inch. Though the commanding glint in his eyes made you feel as though you were under a spell, controlling you and making you walk forward, and you winded up in front of his desk.

“Yes, sir?” you said quietly.

Yuta shook his head. He said nothing, gesturing with his fingers for you to come closer. And you had no will to disobey him. Playing with the edges of your skirt, you turned behind his desk and made a noise of surprise when he abruptly pulled you onto his lap.

Exhilaration made your heart beat at an impossible pace. It thundered against its cage and made it’s presence known. As much as you had fantasized about your professor in such manner, you felt utterly unprepared for whatever plan ran through his brain. Yuta was inscrutable, that much manifested in the way he taught - unpredictable twists his lectures took that gave good reason for his class to be your favorite. Whatever he wanted to do to you was perfectly unclear, better yet how he would do it.

Yuta hooked one arm around your waist, his free hand leisurely stroking your thigh. He leaned into your ear and asked, “Any plans for today?”

Remembering that Shotaro had cancelled on you, you shook your head. Even if you did have plans, especially any immediate ones, they would have simply had to wait. There was something more significant on your hands.

Yuta hit your thigh and you bit back a whimper. “You have words, use them.”

“No, sir,” you told him, forcing out the words that felt clammed in your throat. He seemed satisfied, moving his fingers from your thigh to underneath your skirt. Suddenly, you were grateful of today’s outfit choice - it gave him easy access.

You gasped when you felt his fingers directly between your thighs. This was it - this was everything you had dreamed of. His rings brushed against you and made you shiver, cool to the touch just as you had imagined that they would be. Which made you wonder what else was up to par with your imagination. Curiosity filled you up to the damn brim and you were eager to know.

“You’re soaking,” Yuta commented, chuckling. “Were you thinking about me?”

That made you feel caught, though as usual, it would have been a bold-faced lie to say that you hadn’t spent the better half of the lecture imagining your professor doing unspeakable things to you. Whenever he was in close proximity of you, a moment rarely passed where you weren’t thinking of him. There was no limit. You couldn’t have enough of the man you craved most.

The thoughts hit you hard as soon as the question escaped from between his lips and Yuta knew he had his answer when he felt you clench around his fingers. The sound of him chuckling should have humiliated you, but your body responded with arousal. It was a blessing that your back was to his chest, eye contact would eat you alive.

“Yes, sir.”

“Thinking about me doing what?” He pressed, but the fact that he was still touching you, pushing his fingers inside made it hard to form any coherent thoughts or sentences. You wanted to focus on what he was doing to your body.

You took a deep breath and said, “Touching me, like this. I…, I always imagine you touching me with your rings on.”

“Mm, yeah?” Yuta hummed. “You wanna know what I think about?”

You muttered, “Yes.” Then, you braced yourself.

“Bending you over this desk and fucking you right in these little skirts you love wearing to seduce me.”

It was safe to say that Yuta had caught on to your shenanigans, but you didn’t care. There was no other thought on your mind except for him, and everything you wanted him to do to you.

“Please,” you whimpered.

Yuta feigned confusion. “Please, what?”

“Fuck me,” you begged. “Please fuck me, sir. I need you. Haven’t I been good?”

That was all it took for Yuta’s resolve to crumble, and in the blink of an eye, he had pushed you overneath his desk. The sound of his belt unbuckling made you tremble with anticipation. All of your patience had dissipated, and so had his. You needed each other.

Yuta pulled your panties to the side and you made a little noise when you felt the tip brush against you. “Ready?”

You gave him the go-ahead in a small voice that didn’t nearly uncover the entire extent of how much you wanted this. When Yuta finally pushed in, the relief you felt then was unimaginable. For so long you had wanted your professor, and now that you had him, it felt like a dream.

Impossible to miss, you noticed Yuta’s grunt when he slid inside you. That alone made you feel like you were soaring. His hands fell to your hips and his rings urged a cool sensation on the area of bare skin.

When you moaned, Yuta lifted one of his palms from your waist and hit your ass. “Unless you want everyone to hear you moaning like a slut, be a good girl and stay quiet.”

Easier said than done. There was too much pleasure involved, too much for you to be able to conceal. You bit your bottom lip, hoping it would do the job. It was the best that you could do to muffle your sounds.

And you weren’t the only one, either. Although Yuta was better at supressing noises, you couldn’t miss the sexy little grunts he made, his grip on your waist tightening with pleasure. It drove you near damn mad hearing him like that. The fact that he was so close to you did nothing to help. He was nearly in your ear, and you felt as if you could implode right then and there.

Without the presence of loud moans, the room was still far from silent. There was the lewd sound of Yuta’s hips rocking into yours each time he pushed back in, and thus your weight slamming against the desk with every thrust, and you loved it. There was something dangerously arousing about it and you were in no mind to care about how obvious you were. Nothing mattered to you in that moment except for Yuta. You wanted him to continue and not stop until you’d both finished.

“Fuck,” you moaned, unable to control yourself. “Harder, please.”

Yuta teased, “Can you handle it harder, baby?”

“Yes, sir,” you squeaked. “Please? I can take it, I can take it.”

Before you could add anything else, Yuta gave in and got rougher. There was no telling if it was real or all in your head, but you swore you could feel him deeper than ever before. His hips met yours hard, pushing deeply. His death grip on you became tighter, as if you would slip away from him if he didn’t hold you as tightly as possible. Every touch of his was practically bruising, just the way you wanted it to be.

This was something Yuta thought he could do all day. Watching you take him greedily was a massive turn on and he could see it becoming one of his favorite pastimes. He loved the way your pussy swallowed him whole. He loved the way you were still desperate for more no matter how much he gave you. The way you were so compliant and eager to please. It was something he could get used to.

“You’re doing so good,” Yuta sighed, voice tickling your neck.

His praise made your knees feel weak, yet so did the sound of his voice. It was like a two for one deal, twice the amount of butterflies swarming in your stomach. The only way things could have been better was if you could see his face, but you doubted you’d survive the moment you saw his expression as he let out a groan.

Yuta lifted his hand again and slipped it underneath your shirt, meddling with your bra and finding your breasts. He gave them a squeeze and you exhaled with pleasure, loving the way his hands felt on your body. You wanted to feel him everywhere you possibly could - no spot left untouched.

Hardly any thoughts roamed in your brain and you were stripped of every ability you possessed to think. All you knew was pleasure, and you wanted more of it. More of him. He was close to you - deep inside you - but not close enough. Never deep enough. To you, there was no existing maximum. There was no brink and only one word chanted in your head. More, more, more.

“Sir, I’m close,” you whimpered out.

Even without saying, every reaction your body made in response to his touch indicated that you were on the brink of an orgasm. You were clinching around Yuta and it became harder to muffle your noises, and you were sure that your lip was bleeding, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care yet.

It was so close you could almost reach out and grab it. The pleasure you felt then was inexplicable. It felt like all your senses had been heightened to an extreme, on an inhuman level. Your body was begging him, screaming for release, needing it desperately.

Needless to say, Yuta was no better than and not far behind you. His grunts seemingly became deeper, and his thrusts became irregular. But he never stopped - he wouldn’t stop until he was there with you, over the edge.

“Come with me, baby,” Yuta growled. He was fucking you like his life depend on it.

Whatever came next was a blur. Your orgasm struck you hard, clouding your vision with white haze, and you clinched around Yuta uncontrollably. The noises that escaped your lips were unpreventable, especially when you felt his cum spill inside your walls. Your body became slug against the desk and when you snapped out of your post-orgasm headspace, you noticed your professor slow and pull out of you.

When you stood back up, you felt his cum leaking from you and trickling down your thighs, and your cheeks grew hot.

Yuta snickered and buckled his pants back up. “How do you feel?”

There was no word to describe how you felt and you were still in a state of pleasant shock. Your thighs began to feel ache from the pressure he’d inflicted on you, but you weren’t complaining. This was the highlight of your day.

“Good,” you replied, straightening out your skirt with your palms. “Sore, but good.”

He smiled wryly. “When do you tutor Taro again?”

“Thursday. He said he would meet me at your house after practice.”

“Good. Come early.”

“How early?”

“However long you can handle getting fucked,” Yuta said with a shrug.

The butterflies were back. Unable to say anything, you gave him a quick nod and prepared to leave, after you cleaned yourself up.

Who would have known that instead of going home to take care of your arousal after class, Yuta would handle it for you. And Thursday you got to do it all over again.

You couldn’t fucking wait.

Part of you wanted to run, but when you rang the doorbell, you knew that it was too late. There was nowhere to hide anymore - Yuta would be coming any moment now.

You were a hot mess of emotions, bursting at the seams with exhilaration and nerves. Of course, there was no doubt in your body that you wanted to relive having sex with your professor. It was everything you had dreamed of and more. Although you also couldn’t deny that you were worried for a billion different reasons.

Relax, you told yourself. You had no reason to worry. There was no way that anyone would find out, Shotaro was utterly clueless and although Ten was certainly aware, you knew there was no way in hell he’d tell a soul. Plus, you looked nothing short of fuckable. With how short your skirt was, Yuta would be unable to change his mind even if he wanted to.

The door swung open and revealed Yuta, who already had his eyes on your body. Without much greeting, he pulled you inside and locked the door behind you.

You squealed while he dragged you into his bedroom, impatience seeping from his calm demeanor. When he let you loose, you stood by bed rubbing your wrist while he shut the door. You complained, “What happened to greeting people?”

“Hello,” he said, walking over to you. He reached for your hand and gave your wrist a quick kiss, then added, “Now lie down for me.”

Without hesitation, you did as told, climbing onto his bed and sprawling yourself out on his mattress. You kicked off your shoes and Yuta crawled between your legs, watching you instinctively spread your legs open for him.

“Black,” Yuta growled once he noticed the color of your panties. “That’s my favorite color.”

There was no way you were strong enough for this.

Yuta tugged your panties past your ankles and tossed them on the floor in haste, starving for you and begging to know how you tasted. His mouth was on you without warning and you sucked in a deep breath the moment you felt his tongue.

To say the least, Yuta didn’t relent. His mouth was impatient, tongue making you pulse more than you already were. It ventured over you, and you cried out, thighs squeezing shut when the muscle prodded at your clit. But Yuta was completely unwilling to be deterred. He pushed your thighs back open and held them spread, and you could feel the cool sensation of his rings digging into your skin yet again.

Moans of his name tore past your lips, urging him on. Yuta took it as sheer motivation, actions unfaltering and seeming to strengthen. You could feel the corners of his lips lift in a grin. It was an ego boost seeing you grip sheets and hearing you moaning his name shamelessly loud.

Wet sounds grew louder. Yuta’s grip on you only became tighter whenever you began to squirm from the pleasure. There was no doubt in your mind that Yuta wad experienced. For as long as your body had yearned for him, no doubt had ever been present, though now that his head was between your thighs and his mouth was anything but shy of your cunt, you could tell.

“Yuta, fuck,” you cried, back in arch. “Don’t stop, please. Please don’t stop.”

Yuta raised a brow, wondering where you had gotten such an idea from. The thought of stopping had never once crossed his mind. He knew what he wanted, he knew what you wanted, and it wasn’t that. He was determined to leave you broken.

It was like nothing that you had ever felt before. People had been between your thighs a number of times before, but something about Yuta was different. There was no way for you to put your finger on it in your current state, but whatever he was doing with his tongue was making you want to scream. You knew then the pleasure he was providing you was unreplicable.

Maybe you knew that the moment you set your eyes on your professor. There was a reason you were drawn to him, wanting him in ways that were illicit. Everything about Yuta had tempted to you, head to toe. In and out. The time between then and now was unbearable. Though you made efforts to distract yourself from the man you thought to be unattainable, no one ever met your standards. And you were completely unable to commit when Yuta was the one in your head. You needed him, or someone like him.

And though you sought for the latter, you were undone.

Nothing could describe how you felt in the moment other than delirious. You were beginning to believe that Yuta had been yours in a past life, that there was no other explanation as to how he seemed perfectly aware of what to do. Then, you thought that somehow, in spite of him being your professor and the father of one of your peers, you were meant to be. It might have been crazy, but that was how you felt.

And Yuta, you drove Yuta crazy. Which felt like an understatement - everything about you made him feel insane to his core. But he couldn’t say that he didn’t like it, or that he was opposed to the feeling. The same way you were tempted by him, he was by you, and he liked having you in the most delicate of ways.

There was no way you would have known, that was if his body said nothing, but he was hooked on you. Just as much as you were hooked on him, if not even more. It wasn��t because he was lonely after his divorce and needed to chew on anything that he could bite, which was simply untrue. Anyone he wanted, man or woman, Yuta knew how to woo his way to them. Though he didn’t want you out of desperacy, he wanted you because of the way you made him feel.

That much he was still in the phase of figuring out, but he knew that it was welcome. That was all that mattered.

“Yuta, I’m so close,” you groaned, entire body begging for release.

Those four words let out a beast in Yuta. It was like he wanted to ravage you, and you found that likely to be the case. Already had he been unfaltering, but it was clear that his efforts were increasing. He wanted to bring you over the edge and he would do exactly that.

“Cum for me,” he said, detaching his mouth from you for the briefest of moments. He let his fingers occupy you while it separated. “You know you want to. Let go for me, baby girl.”

As always, you obeyed. With his mouth on your clit, there was no way that even if you wanted to, you could instruct your body to do otherwise. You let your body be overcome by pleasure, your back in an arch as your orgasm hit. You let out a lewd moan of his name, toes clenching, and Yuta let you hold - much more squeeze - his hand.

It was intense, and Yuta didn’t stop until you had finally gone slack against his mattress. When he pulled away, he could only let the beautiful sight of you fill his eyes. You laid weakly on his bed, chest heaving in result of your climax. Everything about you then screamed fucked out, and he could only look smugly at his achievement.

Watching you made him want to keep going and eat you out little longer, test how much you could handle, but it also made him hard. There was only so long that he could go resisting the urge to fuck you limp and his restraint had dissipated.

“I’m not done with you yet,” Yuta growled, and moved towards you.

All you could see in his eyes was hunger. And when he leaned in and kissed you, it was even hungrier. It was rough and impatient, as if he had been waiting for this moment his whole life.

You reciprocated, kissing him back with the same passionate and letting the heat in the room consume you whole. Yuta’s hands were greedy, clawing at both of your clothes and towing them above your heads. Whatever amount you wanted him he was sure he wanted you more, and he wasn’t ashamed to show you.

Yuta pulled apart from your lips and when you met his gaze, you knew exactly what it was that he wanted. He licked his lips at the sight of you and said, “Hands and knees.”

In an instant, you shifted your body, wiggling your hips in an attempt to make him move faster. You were stripped down to nothing but your skirt, something you realized early on he had a thing for. With how perfectly presented you were, there was no reason why he wasn’t fucking you yet.

The anticipation was killing you slowly. Yuta seemed tempted to start right then, but something delayed him. He reached for something on the bed and slipped a pillow underneath your elbows, a gesture that made your aching desire for him skyrocket.

“Fuck me, Yuta, please,” you begged. “I need to feel you.”

When you felt the head of his dick poke your entrance, you let out a sigh. You were so wet that Yuta slipped in with ease, letting out a grunt when he felt how warm and tight you were around his dick. His rings dug into your skin as his hands clung to your waist.

He begun with leisure strokes to let you accommodate his size, only becoming less shallow the more he thrusted. It was only your second time with him, but you already had a feeling that you’d never get to used to the one of how deeply he stretched you out. Yuta reached places you were unaware of existing.

“I want you,” he groaned. As if you weren’t already at his disposal. Those three words alone had you wrapped around his finger.

Breath hitching, you replied, “You have me. I’m yours - use me.”

Whatever amount of mercy he was trying to spare onto you quickly ceased once those words left your mouth, and Yuta picked up his pace, beginning to fuck you hard. You emit a moan and let him have his way with your body. After your previous encounter, he knew that you liked it rough. Your face was being dug into one of the pillows yet you had no complaints.

Neither did he. Yuta found himself admiring how you took him and the way you felt around him yet again. A welcome mixture of tight, wet, and warm that made fucking you feel like a treat. If you wanted him to use you then he was more than willing to do so.

And there was something about it being you that he was fucking that made the experience like nothing else. He was too attracted to you. As much as you thought about him, he could guarantee he thought about you all the same. In several ways, fantasizing about you in countless positions. But he was going to take his time with you. Knowing you, you weren’t one to shy away from your desires - rather cave in to them - and if he was what you wanted, then you would let him have you. Whatever he wanted, he knew you would provide the best way you knew how.

It wasn’t a one-sided thing. The more time Yuta spent around you, the more fond of you he became. He knew you would bend over backwards, forwards, and every way in between for him, and it was mutual. He was tempted to give you the world.

After all, you were the subject of his dreams. He was crazy about you, and he wouldn’t change a damn thing.

Something was bothering you. It felt good, having him like this, but there was something that you were craving. And you quickly realized that it was the urge to see Yuta’s face. You wanted to see every scrunch of his face, every falter in his expression. You wanted to see his eyes shut and watch how his lips parted as he groaned your name. You wanted to see it all - every minor detail, every fleeting face he made. That was what you desired more than anything.

You tilted your face, just so that the pillow wouldn’t muffle your sounds and called in a moan-y voice, “Yuta…,”

“Mm, baby?” Yuta answered, continuing to rock his hips into yours.

“I wanna - I wanna see your face,” you stammered, hardly able to get words out with how amazingly he was fucking you. He was enjoying the effect he had on you, needlessly to say. “Can I please see your face?”

It was impossible to tell you no. Yuta wanted to give you the world, after all. He would sacrifice his adoration for hitting you from the back if that was what it took to satisfy you. He held distaste for your muffle sounds and not being able to see the mess he was making on your own pretty face anyways.

“Whatever you want, baby girl.”

Yuta flipped you over so that you were lying on your stomach, then entered back inside you with haste. When you finally caught a glimpse of his face, sweat made his hair cling to his face and beads of it damped his skin. It was a beautiful sight you were grateful to witness.

In return, Yuta adored the fucked out daze you casted him. There was nothing he loved more than seeing you like that, in a state of evident pleasure as a result of everything he was doing to your body. He fucking loved it.

You wrapped your legs around his back, desperate to feel him deeper. Yuta only chuckled at the gesture, finding it both hot and amusing that you were so needy for him. It was typical of you to want to feel him to the extreme, you simply couldn’t have enough of him.

“Sir,” you moaned. There were no words to explain how you felt right now.

Yuta slowed his thrust and grabbed your chin, forcing eye contact. “What’s my name?”

Wide-eyed, you stammered, “Y-Yuta.”

“Say it again.”

“Yuta!” you exclaimed, moving your hips in attempts to feel his previous pace. “Yuta, Yuta.”

Yuta grinned smugly, but picked up the pace of his thrusts and said, “And I’ll make sure you don’t forget it.”

Yuta brought his hand to your clit and began rubbing you there, watching how your body responded to his touches. You began to squirm and true to his word, made you cry out his name. You felt like you were on fire, heat consuming you whole, but you wanted it all to spread. It felt too good, Yuta’s thrusts and his hands and rings on the very surface of your skin skin.

“Oh, god,” you whimpered. You needed release, you were chasing after it. It was so close, and Yuta could tell.

“How bad do you wanna cum?” Yuta asked you, growling into your ear.

“So bad. I need it. I need it, Yuta. Please,” you begged. With the sexy sounds he was making you weren’t sure you would be able to delay your orgasm any longer.

Satisfied, Yuta bobbed his head and purred, “Give it to me then, baby.”

The moment you approached your climax, Yuta gave you his hand again and you gripped it fiercely as you emitted a loud, crying string of his name. Your whole body shook with orgasm, toes clenching and your eyes closing shut as it washed over you. Yuta came inside you with a grunt, rings digging into your flesh as he held you and filled you up to the brim. When you both finally finished, you laid on his mattress, catching your breath, and he pulled out.

Yuta tilted his head and asked, “Feel good?”

“Feel great,” you chirped, smiling lazily.

He bobbed his head, smiling back and said, “You didn’t forget what I said, did you? I hope you’re not tired.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, ask if to ask him - Why? The smug look on his face added up to your confusion, and you felt like there was something you were missing.

“Baby, you came here two hours hourly. That’s how long you’re getting fucked.”

Realization creeped upon you, and you recalled the exchange you had back in his classroom. Oh, boy, you thought. He was going to ruin you.

And in all honesty, you were fine with that.

[sanguineterrain]

Your writing is so damn good, you execute every request perfectly 😭

Could you maybe write something where Dick's insecure partner wants to break up with him because their self-image is getting worse cause they feel they can't catch up to the Golden Boy reputation, superheroes, billionaires and so on?

hi, thanks for the request! I hope I did it justice :) a brief interlude from jaytodd before we return to our regularly scheduled program lol

dick grayson x gn!reader. low self esteem, an almost breakup, reader feeling insecure, threatened, sad. happy ending! 2.1k words

****

You've been tugging at your outfit for ten minutes. At this rate, you'll have to concede that this is as good as it's going to get.

"My love, you almost ready?"

You sigh and watch your reflection fold its arms.

"Yeah," you say softly. "'M ready."

The door opens. Your heart swoops.

Dick is beautiful, as usual. Your boyfriend can do a lot, including fill a suit. Both your and his outfits were tailor-made because that's one of the perks of being the son of a billionaire.

Over and over, you'd insisted you could wear off-the-rack, and over and over, Dick had said that was silly, that Bruce wouldn't mind.

And it's true that what you're wearing flatters you better than anything from Macy's or Marshall's would've. But you know it won't help tonight. Not in a room full of Gotham's elite.

"Just as I suspected," Dick says, immediately draping his arms over your hips. "You're gonna steal the show tonight."

He's lying.

That voice in your head has gotten louder recently, and you don't know how to turn it off.

You kiss him instead of responding. Dick enthusiastically reciprocates, always delighted when you touch him. You used to think it would be enough.

But ever since you found out that not only are you dating a billionaire philanthropist with a face that makes angels weep, but that said guy is also arguably the most beloved hero in Gotham, maybe second only to the Batman (who's his freaking dad?!), you've begun to have doubts.

You pull back. Dick's tie perfectly sets off his eyes. They're bright as they look at you.

"Everything okay?" he asks, brushing your cheek with his thumb.

"Uh-huh," you say, trying to smile. "Just nervous."

“Hey, it's alright. I'll be by your side all night. I'll save you from any and all small talk, promise." He winks. "And we can duck out early, get hot chocolate from that place you like. They won't care."

Dick's always doing that. Always catering to you. You're just some nobody who happened to stumble into the best relationship you’ve ever had with a golden god.

Dick never reminds you of that. That he could do better. He doesn't have to—you know it all on your own.

You swallow. “Okay. If you're sure. I... I would like to leave early, Gray."

“‘Course, baby,” Dick says, attaching his cuff links. "Anything you want."

You turn back to the mirror, wondering if you can reinvent your personality before you go and remind everyone what a mistake Dick Grayson has made in choosing you. 

****

The party is tasteful, though a little stuffy. You're only here because Dick is going to give a speech, and he asked you to come support him. And while you know it's better for him to go without you so you won't dull his shine, it seems Dick hasn't quite figured that out.  

You hold onto Dick’s arm as he makes his usual rounds. Dick doesn't enjoy these events, you know that, but he's fluid in his interactions. There is no doubt he’s Bruce Wayne’s prodigy. With his suit, his hair, his easy posture, Dick is almost unrecognizable from when you woke up with him this morning. 

He's in his element. All you can do is peer in and watch. 

Dick leans in and slips a hand around your waist after the fourth interaction with a donor. A donor who, again, acted like Dick may as well have been dragging around a coat rack with how intently they ignored you. Not that you give a shit about what the one percent have to say about you, except sometimes they say a lot of mean things, things you're pretty sure they don't let Dick overhear, and sometimes you start wondering if Dick is the only person who can't see truth in what they say, and sometimes—

“Hey.” Dick leans in to talk in your ear. He's warm and solid. You wish that was a comfort. “You okay?”

You're exhausted. 

“Uh-hmm.”

He is going to wake up one of these days and realize he can have it so much better. 

Dick moves like he's about to say more, pull you closer and permeate your senses with his gold.

“Dickie!” 

Sweet, tinkling laughter echoes across the room. The crowd parts for this new woman, an obvious socialite, dressed to the nines and gorgeous. 

Her dress matches Dick's tie. You feel sick.

When she reaches you two, she wastes no time grabbing Dick and kissing his cheek. He extricates himself from her, like he's done a million times before with everyone else who thinks they're entitled to a piece of Dick Grayson. He shoots you an apologetic look. You look away.

“My God, it’s been what, ten years?” she says. Then she sees you. “Oh! Where are my manners? I’m Caroline Banesbury, Duchess of Middlesworth. I heard the Dickie Grayson was going to be here, and I had to come.”

“Been a while,” Dick says, smiling blandly. “How are you, Caroline?”

“Spectacular! Father just bought another castle. You should come and see it sometime.” She plucks a flute of champagne off of a passing tray and smiles behind the rim of the glass. 

“Dick and I go way back,” she says, gaze roving over him. “I hear you're transforming Blüdhaven. Taking a page out of Bruce's book, hm? You always had a big heart, Dickie.” 

She grabs his arm and links it with hers. You sigh and take a sip of your own drink. You half-wish Poison Ivy would come in and gas the room or something.

Dick clears his throat and maneuvers out of her grip once more, letting go of her with a light pat. He returns to you, snugly holding your shoulders.

"This is my partner," he says about you.

Caroline hums, looking over you. "I see. Pleasure."

You nod. She turns back to Dick.

“If I can be of any help to your project, you let me know,” she adds, glancing down at where her empty arm now hangs at her side. “Anything.” 

“That's generous of you, Carrie.” 

Dick and I go way back.

Oh. Right. You're stupid. They've dated. 

“We should have dinner,” she continues. “Catch up. I'm dying to know what Gotham's darling has been up to.”

“I feel sick,” you announce. 

Dick and Caroline turn to you. Caroline looks perplexed, like you've just said you like to chew concrete. 

“Oh, I'm sorry to hear that,” she says, hardly sparing you a glance. "Perhaps you ought to lie down."

You feel Dick's eyes on you. If you don't leave soon, he'll know you're lying. Possibly the worst part about dating Batman's protégé.

Suddenly, leaving this hall is the most important thing you've ever had to do. You feel like you'll die if you don't.

Your feet start moving.

"Baby—"

Anyway, this is Caroline's chance. She can swoop in with her trust fund and while you think Dick can do way better than her—he can always do better—anyone is better than you. For Dick Grayson, who has been a master acrobat since he was a child, son of Batman, leader of the Titans, indubitably intelligent, capable, beautiful, the best goddamn guy you'll ever know—

You've lost your way. You're out of the gala, away from duchesses and doom. And you meant to get your coat but this hall that Bruce rented is enormous. You've no idea where you are. But you're alone.

Bruce must've known too, how unfit you are for his son. And why wouldn't he tell Dick? Unless Dick ignored him, because Dick, for all his smarts, is stupidly in love with you, thinks you're where he should put his heart, is certain you won't fumble and drop it.

Warm, callused fingers catch your wrist and you remember, suddenly, Dick telling you once, after you'd nearly stumbled into the street, that he'd never let you fall.

You meet his eyes. Why does he look at you like that? Who gave him the right to look at you like-like you—as if you could ever deserve—

"Hey," he says, squeezes your hand. "Hey, hey. What's going on?"

Dick Grayson is not a trusting man but he trusts you and good God, you're about to break him.

"I need to break up with you," you blurt.

"What?" he breathes. "What—why would you say that?"

You wish he'd give you the slip he gave everyone in that room, gently separate your arm from his hand. You never learned how to evade Dick's touch.

"Because it's true. Dick, please understand—"

"No, I'm trying to understand. Because yesterday—no, tonight, you were fine—"

"No, Dick, I wasn't fine! I haven't been fine in months!"

You wrench your arm away. He looks like you slapped him.

"You know anybody I talk to in there means nothing, right? You know that, honey." He's pleading.

You curl your fist into your eye. "It's more than that, Gray."

"Then tell me what the problem is," he says desperately. "Tell me and we'll fix it. I promise we can fix it."

"You can't!" you say, voice cracking. "You can't fix me."

Dick shakes his head. "I don't—"

"Why can't you let me break up with you with a little bit of dignity?" you ask. "Do you have to be better at this too?"

"I don't want to break up," he says, tugging at a handful of his hair. "This doesn't make sense. We're happy. You're happy, aren't you? Don't I make you happy?"

"Of course," you choke out. "Of course you make me happy. But you don't see I'm bad for you. You're wonderful and perfect and golden, Dick. And I'm a stain. I need to be scrubbed away."

"Wh—that's not true!"

"Everywhere we go, people see me with you and are immediately confused. I'm not a superhero, I'm not royalty, I'm not a socialite, and yet somehow I've managed to snag Gotham's darling. This is a mistake. I'm trying to do you a favor and wake you up!"

Dick's face is hard with anger. How could you have thought this would be easy?

"I don't need to be woken up! What is it that makes you think I have no agency over the people I choose to spend time with? Everyone I meet thinks they're entitled to touch me, demand me. Everyone but you. You, the person I chose to love, who I love everyday. Do you think you pulled the wool over my eyes and you're snapping me out of it? Is that what you really think?"

And isn't this the most puzzling thing? That he's not sad or gently accepting; Dick is mad.

"I just—" He runs a hand through his hair. "I don't mean to yell, but really, I can't bear it if you see me as some god on a pedestal, unattainable and inhuman, like everyone else sees me. I love you on purpose."

"You're so accomplished, though," you say weakly. "You're..." You wave your hand over him. "You're fucking Nightwing, D. You were Robin, you have superheroes for friends, Batman for a parent, you're beloved by, like, all of Jersey—"

"My love, you know those are just parts of me. You see all of me. You know me. And that's not a one-way privilege, okay? I'm so damn lucky to know you, to love you, to be with you, to fight with you. To fight for you. Knowing you isn't something I take for granted."

"But I'm boring," you say, tears spilling over. "Jesus Christ, Dick, I'm plain and untalented, barely a dime to my name, so painfully ordinary that—"

"Listen to me," he says, taking your face in his hands. "Flying around or shooting lasers out of your eyes, sure, it's cool, and it's helpful for taking down an alien dictator. But I don't need you to do any of that, honey. I don't need nor want you to be anyone but you. I wasn't tricked or swindled into loving you. We caught each other halfway, just like we were meant to."

You let him pull you into his arms, let him press your tear stains to his silk pocket square, let his hair fall around you.

His embrace is solid, firm, but when he inhales, his shoulders shake.

"Do you—" He swallows, throat against yours. "Do you still want to break up?"

His heart beats against your cheek.

"I'm just afraid you'll get tired of me," you whisper. "Bored. Annoyed."

"I won't," he whispers. "You're the least boring person ever. It's never boring to be loved."

You squeeze your eyes shut. Dick's warmth encloses you.

"No, I don't want to break up. I'm sorry."

He holds you tighter, and you realize you never had to match Dick's tie. Not when you've got his heart.

[viennakarma]

Alonso Shenanigans

Fernando Alonso x Reader

Summary: Mamá has business to attend, and Fernando is left to watch his son and get a hold of his whereabouts.

Word count: 1.8k

Tags: female reader, established relationship, tooth rotting fluff, dad!Nando, silly little slice of life, not beta read

Relationship: Fernando Alonso x Reader

Note: Another bite sized fluffy Nando fic, because I think about that one thing he said about finding happiness in becoming a father at least four times a week. Comments and feedback are appreciated xx

“Are you sure, love?” You asked again, nervous, watching as Fernando carried Alejandro attached to his hip.

“Yes, I’m sure, will you be back later today?” Fernando asked, as Ale played with his father’s hair, mumbling a little lullabye.

“Yes, in around three hours,” you said, kissing the top of Ale’s head, then pecking Fernando’s lips, “I’m really sorry, this meeting came out of nowhere, I promise I’ll make it up to you when-”

“Amor, it’s ok,” Fernando interrupted, “Go, we’ll behave and wait for you.”

It was just media day, but unfortunately a last minute meeting at your company needed to happen, and you’d have to leave your husband and kid alone in the paddock so you could go back to the hotel to attend the meeting online.

“Love you two to the moon and back!” You said, scurrying off.

“Mamá!” Alejandro asked, suddenly noticing his mother’s absence, and getting fussy.

“Mamá had to work, we’re going to have a lot of fun together today!” Fernando said, putting him on the floor, and holding his hand.

He took Alejandro all around, when he went to talk with the mechanics about the last update to his car, when he went to take a few pictures, recording a few marketing stuff, here and there. Everyone knew Alejandro as “Little Alonso”, his tiny feet padding around, his head full of disheveled brown wavy hair, and eyes that were pretty much the same as his father. He was always around, pointing at his dad’s car, muttering gibberish half in spanish and half in english, he also liked walking to the engineers pulling on their shirts to get their attention so he could ask for a headphone.

At the age of four and a half, Alejandro was a known face around the paddocks, always asking questions and waiting to know about everyone’s business.

“Papá, I’m hungry!” Alejandro patted his own belly, which made his dad chuckle.

“Ok, we’re getting food, campeoncito,” Fernando muttered, leading his son to his room. Inside, he rummaged through all his bags, searching for his snacks and juice bottle.

He ended up sitting beside Alejandro in the cafeteria, the little boy munching in a pot of cut fruits, a bag of chips, and a mango juice. Alejandro talked about everything, asking about the people and the colors, and why everything was where it was.

Eventually, Fernando had a meeting, so he set a little playing mat to Alejandro on the floor of the meeting room, where he put his son’s toys, paper and crayons. 

“Papá, yo quiero inside your car!” Ale asked, as Fernando placed him on the little mat.

“I’ll take you to sit in my car as soon as we finish here, yes? Just sit tight and I’ll be really fast. Do you want to play with your toys, or paint a little? Come on,” Fernando took a crayon and started drawing, looking over his shoulder to see his engineers and strategists getting inside, sitting down, opening their laptops and notes. Nobody batted an eye to Fernando kneeling on the floor, convincing his kid to sit quietly. Everyone was used to the Alonsos’ shenanigans.

Finally, after making sure Alejandro was still on the mat, under his sight, Fernando went on and started the meeting.

It took something between 20 and 30 minutes until it was over, and when Fernando went to pick Alejandro, he noticed his little boy wasn’t there anymore, and the door was slightly ajar. Muttering every curse word he could think of, he bolted outside. Alejandro had become a little menace in escaping rooms now that he was tall enough to tiptoe and reach a door handle.

“Have you seen Alejandro?” He stopped a couple of the staff in the hall to ask. They just shook their heads. He went to the garage, and stopped the whole team of mechanics, his heart beating faster than it did when racing, “Have you guys seen Alejandro?”

“He walked past with Lance a few minutes ago,” Someone said, pointing outside. Fernando breathed again, ok, at least he wasn’t alone, roaming around and in danger.

Striding forward, Fernando kept looking for his teammate and his son, and eventually ended up in Ferrari. He walked inside to ask Carlos if he had seen the little boy, but he stopped short when he noticed a tiny hand print made with what looked like grease on the livery of the 55 Ferrari, and the letters “ALE” written sloppily with the very same black grease.

“Oh, mierda,” he whispered. Carlos noticed him, walking up to Fernando with a smile.

“Ale was just here with Lance, we talked for a couple of seconds, and when we looked, he had his hand printed on the car,” Carlos explained, as Fernando winced.

“Lo siento, Carlos. Do you know where they might have gone?” He asked.

“Well, Lance said he was going to wash Ale’s hands. So, back to Aston Martin, maybe?” Carlos shrugged.

Fernando went back to his garage, looking for Lance and Alejandro. Finally, he found Lance using a cloth to dry his hands. He smiled and waved at Fernando, who quickly went up to him.

“Is Alejandro with you?” Fernando asked.

“Oh, he saw George walking by, ran up to him and they both bolted together. I have no idea where they went. Sorry.” Lance muttered.

Fernando walked out again, going to the Mercedes motorhome to find his son once again. Honestly, everyone loved Alejandro way more than they loved Fernando, he was pretty sure, and the little boy was frankly a menace all around. If he found someone like George to match his energy, they would go around causing trouble to everyone.

At the Mercedes motorhome, he found Lewis staring curiously at a bowl of fruits.

“Hey, have you seen Alejandro? Lance said he and Geor-” Fernando stopped himself when he got closer to the table where the bowl of fruits sat.

“Well, for sure they’ve been here,” Lewis muttered, holding an apple, showing how the fruit had one single bite taken off. One little bite which Fernando knew very well who that dental arch belonged to. There was a bite on the apple, the banana, the pear, the peach and every single fruit there.

“¡Ay, dios mio! I’m sorry about this!” Fernando whispered, “I need to find them before him and George set the whole paddock on fire.”

Fernando walked out, knowing that George was probably going to look for Alex or Lando, who would probably support their little mischief around. He found Williams garage first, where he found a laughing Logan Sargeant picking up what looked like hundreds of little pieces of lego. And Fernando knew his kid, and knew he loved throwing things to the floor to make a mess.

“That’s Alejandro’s doing, right?” Fernando asked, wide eyed. Logan nodded and explained how the little boy had been there with George to taunt Alex after throwing his lego piece to the floor and scattering all the tiny pieces. Fernando helped Logan pick up the pieces from the floor.

“The three of them left, saying they had to prank Lando too,” Logan told Fernando, when they finished.

Fernando ran off, walking to McLaren, where he found Lando washing off his hair which was tangled in pink play dough, and George was trying to help him. Standing a little far behind, Alex had Alejandro sitting on his shoulders, the two of them giggling with Oscar.

“Alejandro didn’t do that, did he?” Fernando asked, worried and getting angry.

“No, no!” George was quick, “that was an accident on my part!”

“Yeah, little Alonso is innocent on this!” Lando added. Fernando squinted, not sure if he fully believed that, since Fernando himself had gone through something similar with Alejandro and his play dough.

“Look, any kind of oil will remove that from your hair,” Fernando patted his back, walking to his kid.

Alex gave him Alejandro, who Fernando decided was best to keep attached to him, not letting the little boy out of his sight again.

“Green! Verde, verde!” Alejandro was exclaiming to Alex.

“What is going on, pollito?” Fernando asked.

“He asked me to paint my hair green next time,” Alex explained, showing his blonde hair.

“And you agreed?” Fernando frowned.

“Yeah, whatever little Alonso wants, little Alonso gets,” Alex shrudded, laughing and pinching Alejandro chubby cheeks.

“You guys spoil him too much!” Fernando shook his head, waving goodbye and taking Alejandro back to his garage, “now I understand why mamá wants to buy a little backpack leash for you, little troublemaker.”

Alejandro held his face, looking into his eyes, then hugging him tight, which made Fernando’s annoyance from having to chase his son around completely dissolve, and he melted, hugging his boy. He could never get angry with his cute little man, especially when he reminded him so much of his younger self.

“Papá? Where’s Mamá?” Alejandro asked, looking around.

“Mamá is coming back soon, pollito,” he whispered, kissing his son’s cheek, “I’m missing her too.”

Fernando didn’t lose sight of Alejandro anymore, and when he had to leave for the press conference with other drivers, he left his PR manager to watch Alejandro while you had not come back. He was sitting on the sofa, answering questions but he still could watch Alejandro in a little chair on the opposite side of the room, beside the manager.

At some point, he noticed Alejandro getting fussy and pouty from staying in the same place alone for too long and looking fairly sleepy, Fernando could tell from one look.

“Alejandro,” Fernando called into the mic, the little boy looked around, hearing his dad’s voice, finally, he set his eyes on Fernando and jumped from the chair, “vente aquí.”

The boy took off, running towards his dad, eliciting a little “aw” from the journalists, and a lot of cameras following him until he got to his father, sitting on his lap, nuzzling into Fernando’s chest.

Fernando kept answering questions, and in a couple off minutes, Alejandro was fully asleep. Everyone started talking a little lower, as to not disturb the little one who was sleeping so calmly on his dad’s chest.

When the press conference was over, Fernando carried Alejandro inside his room, keeping his son on his lap, while he went through some data.

Finally when you came back, you found Alejandro on Fernando’s chest, his dad holding him tight while both of them took a little nap, looking so much like each other that it warmed your heart. You kissed both of their heads, running your fingers through Fernando’s hair to wake him up.

“Let’s go back to the hotel, so my pretty boys can eat and rest properly, yes?” You said, kissing Fernando softly, his eyes shining with so much adoration that he didn’t need to say the words, you could see the I love you. “Did you two behave?”

“Like angels!” Fernando winked, which told you that they probably had some Alonso Shenanigans today.

[burst-of-iridescent]

thoughts on the atla live action trailer:

looks like we're definitely getting more of the air nomad genocide. i'm hoping this means more flashbacks and development of the air nomads in general, but it definitely sets the tone for the series if this is what they're starting out with

azula shooting an arrow?? she doesn't seem to be wearing eyeliner and lipstick like in the promo shots, so i'm guessing it's a younger azula. i'm interested to see where this is going

aang crashing into the rock like in the opening credits <3 i'm glad they seem to be keeping some of the silliness and humour of the original

the actors for the main four are crushing it so far, but gordon cormier as aang is absolutely the standout for me. the scene where he has tears in his eyes while talking about how he can't save the world... that's my son, that's my boy etc

katara and aang laughing at sokka, aang running to hug the water tribe sibs!! they got the dynamic DOWN

i know there's like 2 seconds of the blue spirit and aang working together but. i'm obsessed

"i'm the avatar and i'm going to save the world... with my friends" tears. full tears

bumi! jun! jet! slightly disappointed we didn't get a cabbage man appearance yet but they're probably saving that for the show. the minor characters all look stellar so far

katara and zuko's fight at the north pole do you hear me screaming

i really like the way aang's tattoos light up when he enters the avatar state

the bending looks surprisingly good so far. i love how fluid the water and firebending in particular seem. could this be the redemption we deserve for [gestures at movie that doesn't exist]?

the settings look amazing. omashu especially is beautiful

i'm more curious than ever what it was about the show that bryke had to walk away from because of "creative differences". everything we've seen so far seems really promising and true to the original.

still keeping my expectations low because trailers can be misleading but i'm cautiously hopeful <3

[eatmyass-x]

One afternoon while Wei Ying is preparing dinner, A-Yuan looks up from his toy trucks and asks, “Baba, how comes lots of people in my class have a mom, but I don’t?”

Wei Ying’s hands falter at the chopping board. “Every family is different,” he explains carefully. “One mom, two moms, one dad, two dads. There’s loads of options.”

“But who decides?”

“What do you mean, baobei?” Wei Ying asks.

A-Yuan looks at him like he’s being silly. “Who decides who gets one baba, or two babas, or ten babas?”

Wei Ying laughs. He’s relieved A-Yuan only seems curious and isn’t upset. “Well, grown ups usually decide if they want a husband or a wife. And then they have baby radishes together.” He gives A-Yuan’s nose a gentle poke, making the boy giggle. “But some people like me decide to do it alone.” His explanation is probably not the best, but A-Yuan’s questions have admittedly taken him by surprise.

“So grown ups can have a husband or a wife…” A-Yuan holds up two sticky fingers to demonstrate. “And Baba still doesn’t have anyone?”

“I—” Wei Ying is gobsmacked. He stares at A-Yuan with his mouth agape. A-Yuan looks at him expectantly, like he’s waiting to hear an explanation as to why his Baba is incapable of finding love. Wei Ying quickly turns away and starts plating out their food. “Dinner’s ready.”

“Aunty Yanli said—”

“Eat up, baby.” Wei Ying grins wide and feeds A-Yuan a mouthful of rice, effectively shutting him up. And that’s the end of that.

Or so he thinks.

The next morning on the school playground, A-Yuan escapes from Wei Ying’s hold the second he spots Lan Jingyi, running into his friend’s arms like they’ve been separated for years. They see each other every weekday, and sometimes on the weekends too.

Wei Ying laughs and spots Jingyi’s dad looking similarly amused. The sun is out today and Lan Zhan’s pretty eyes sparkle in the sunlight. He’s utterly breathtaking. Wei Ying's heartbeat still stutters every time they see each other, and they see each other almost every day. It’s humiliating, really.

“Good morning, Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan greets, voice as rich and low as ever.

“Morning, Lan Zhan.” Wei Ying gives him a big, beaming grin. “How was your weekend without us?”

Lan Zhan doesn’t quite smile, but there’s laughter in his eyes. “Messy. Jingyi got into—”

“Mr Lan! Mr Lan!” A-Yuan runs back over and attaches himself to Lan Zhan’s leg like a limpet, creasing up his neatly ironed slacks.

“Yes, A-Yuan?” Lan Zhan’s hand instinctively goes to A-Yuan’s head, patting it like he does his own son’s.

“Baba needs a husband, Mr Lan,” A-Yuan says.

Wei Ying’s blood runs cold, his whole life flashing before his eyes. “A-Yuan, no—!” he splutters, trying to get the boy to stop.

But A-Yuan forges ahead without a care, voice filled with glee. “Can you marry my Baba please, Mr Lan? Then me and Jingyi can be real, actual brothers and be together forever! And then— And then we can all live happily ever after!”

“That’s enough, A-Yuan!” Wei Ying exclaims. His body feels like it’s on fire and he can hear the blood rushing in his ears. He crouches down to be at eye level with A-Yuan, despite the shakiness of his legs. “Remember what we said about thinking before we speak?”

“Ummm… that we should think before we speak?” A-Yuan blinks his innocent doe eyes up at him like he hasn’t just ruined Wei Ying’s life.

“Exactly,” Wei Ying sighs. But he doesn’t have it in him to get upset or annoyed with his son. “It’s time for you to head into class. Your teacher’s waiting for you.” He kisses A-Yuan on the forehead. “Bye bye, radish. Love you.”

“Bye bye, Baba! Love you too!” A-Yuan gives him a fat, slobbery kiss right back and then skips off to his classroom, hand in hand with Jingyi.

Wei Ying grits his teeth and slowly stands back up. Time to face the music. “I’m so sorry, Lan Zhan. I promise I didn’t put him up to it.” He doesn’t quite have the courage to meet Lan Zhan’s eyes. “He’s been asking questions about families and moms and dads and I don’t know, maybe I didn’t explain things properly. I’m so sorry, Lan Zhan.”

“No need to apologise,” Lan Zhan tells him.

“No, but there is!” Wei Ying insists. “Tell me how I can make it up to you?”

When there’s no response, Wei Ying braces himself and hesitantly looks up. Only to find that for some strange, inexplicable reason, Lan Zhan is smiling. “Let me take you out to dinner, Wei Ying.”

“What?!”

“A date,” Lan Zhan explains, like it isn’t clear enough already. “To make it up to me.”

“But Lan Zhan, I— You—” It seems that all Wei Ying is capable of today is sputtering and making a fool of himself.

Lan Zhan steps closer, still with that amused glint in his eyes, and gently brushes away a strand of hair that’s blown into Wei Ying’s face. “Don’t you want to live happily ever after, Wei Ying?” he asks.

Wei Ying feels like he’s died and gone straight to heaven.