#while Enzo is grumpy

[ravenclaw-for-all-seasons]

His Soft Spot (9) - Mattheo Riddle

A/N: Sorry I’ve been gone a while, exams are hard and I am not good at multitasking apparently!

Lorenzo Berkshire was a dead man walking.

At least, he would be—if he didn’t have the smartest survival instincts known to wizardkind.

Because, after accidentally breaking Mattheo Riddle’s prized broom (a brand new, custom-made Firebolt that he loved more than life itself), Enzo did the only thing he could think of to save himself.

He blamed you.

“You owe me,” Enzo had whispered frantically, shoving you toward the Slytherin common room before Mattheo got back. “He won’t kill you.”

You groaned. “Enzo—”

“Please,” he hissed. “Look at me. Do I look like I want to die?”

And, well… he did look properly terrified.

So, against your better judgment, you agreed.

Which was how you ended up sitting on the common room couch when Mattheo stormed in, murder radiating off him.

“Who,” he growled, “broke my broom?”

Theo and Enzo—who had been sitting across from you—immediately turned their heads, looking at you like you had just confessed to a crime.

Mattheo’s eyes snapped to you, and you forced yourself to stay calm.

You took a breath, then—“I did.”

Silence.

A deadly, deadly silence.

Mattheo exhaled sharply, closing his eyes for a second like he was really trying not to explode.

“Y/N,” he said slowly. “Tell me you’re joking.”

You winced. “I… might have been flying a little too fast?”

Mattheo groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Merlin, love, you hate flying—why the fuck were you even on my broom?”

And, okay, that was actually a very fair point.

You opened your mouth, ready to lie through your teeth for Enzo’s pathetic sake, but then—

Mattheo sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’re so fucking reckless sometimes.”

Your stomach sank.

He had never used that voice with you before.

It wasn’t anger, exactly—it was frustration. Grumpiness. But it still made your throat tighten in a way you didn’t expect.

Because, usually? Usually, when Mattheo was upset, he was upset at everyone else—never you.

Your chest tightened.

Your vision blurred.

And, before you could stop it, your eyes welled up with tears.

Mattheo—who had still been muttering to himself about broom maintenance—froze the second he saw your face.

“Oh, shit.”

Theo’s jaw dropped.

Enzo scooted away like he wasn’t involved in this.

Mattheo’s frustration vanished so fast it was actually comical.

His eyes widened, pure panic flooding his features as he immediately sat beside you, his hands cupping your face.

“Fuck—baby, I didn’t mean it,” he blurted out, looking horrified as your first tear fell. “I’m not mad at you—I swear, I swear—”

You sniffled. “You—You never talk to me like that.”

Mattheo fucking folded.

His entire soul shattered into pieces as he practically wrapped himself around you, one hand stroking your hair, the other rubbing soothing circles into your back.

“I know, love, I know,” he murmured, pressing desperate kisses to your forehead. “I was just in a shit mood—I shouldn’t have said anything—fuck, I’ll buy a new broom, I don’t care—please don’t cry.”

Theo and Enzo watched in absolute shock as Mattheo Riddle—who had been ready to commit murder ten seconds ago—was now holding you like you were the most precious thing in the world.

Enzo, who was definitely about to die if Mattheo ever found out the truth, cleared his throat. “Well. This is… something.”

Mattheo shot him a murderous glare. “Get the fuck out.”

Enzo didn’t need to be told twice.

Theo followed right behind him, whispering, “I told you she was his weakness.”

And, honestly?

You weren’t even mad about it.

[simp-for-love]

Addiction

Mattheo Riddle x femReader

Mattheo Riddle has always prided himself on control. From quitting cigarettes for months to cutting out alcohol, he's mastered every addiction, every craving — except one.

Warnings: light angst with happy ending, themes of control and self-restraint, mentions of smoking, alcohol, fighting, and weed, kinda grumpy x sunshine vibes.

Mattheo Riddle was a man of control.

He quit smoking for three months once — just to prove that he could. The craving gnawed at him, made him irritable, but he endured. He gave up alcohol for a month, letting the parties pass him by without so much as a sip, ignoring the way his fingers twitched for a glass. Sex? A month. He decided it would affect his health if he deprived himself longer. He quit weed for four months, but that was the easiest one — he only smoked when he needed to let go and relax. He hadn’t fought a single person for a month because he had a bet with Enzo. Easy galleons. And the fact that he’d beaten all those twits later — no one cared. The bet had been won. Sugar? Gone for two months. It had been hell, but he was stubborn, and stubborn men didn’t break over something as trivial as a craving.

He liked testing himself, setting limits just to push against them. He wasn’t weak. He wasn’t like the people who let their habits control them.

He made and unmade habits like it was nothing, testing himself constantly, pushing his own limits just to see how far he could go.

He knew how to cut things out of his life.

When his father taught him that emotions made you vulnerable and weak, he learned to shut them down. When he realized that people only stayed when it benefited them, he made sure never to need anyone. He conditioned himself to be unaffected — to not care, to not crave, to not need.

But even the strongest man has a weakness.

And Mattheo Riddle’s was you.

He could go months without a cigarette, weeks without firewhiskey, days without sleep — and then there was you.

You were the one thing Mattheo couldn’t control. The one thing he just couldn’t walk away from.

He tried, of course. At first, it seemed simple. He could treat you like he treated everyone else besides his friends — detached, aloof, unaffected. But you didn't seem to notice, waving at him friendly, approaching him, asking about his day. And the more time he spent with you, the more his control slipped.

When you laughed, it rattled something deep inside him, something he hadn’t even known was there. He couldn’t ignore the warmth that spread through him, the way his chest felt light whenever you spoke his name cheerfully. And when you smiled, the kind of smile that made your eyes shine, he found himself smiling back more and more often, even though every part of him screamed that he shouldn’t. His body tingled with anticipation of your ephemeral and natural touch. It didn’t matter if it was a casual nudge, a brush of fingers while passing a book, or a friendly pat on his shoulder. He realized how touch-starved he was, despite being intimate with more than one girl in a week.

Every time he caught himself staring at you, caught himself thinking of you — he’d convince himself it was nothing. A fleeting thought. But when his mind wandered, it always wandered back to you.

And it terrified him. Because, for the first time in his life, he couldn’t control it. And he didn’t know what to do about it.

But then came the first time he saw you smiling at someone else, and something inside him cracked.

It was an innocent thing — just you laughing with your friends across the room — but it hit him like a punch to the chest. His hands clenched into fists, his breath coming faster than he’d like to admit, and for a moment, he almost wanted to walk over there and claim your attention like a needy kid wanting his parents to notice him.

The night after that he didn't sleep much, spending his time thinking and reflecting his behavior and stirring emotions. But then the next morning, you came to him with an adorable furrow on your face and a worried look in your eyes, reaching out to place a hand on his forehead and asking about his well-being.

And he gave in.

If he’d lost this battle against addiction, he might as well make the most of it, he thought.

Mattheo started approaching you first, walking you to your classes. He would throw a witty joke or charming wink while passing by with his friends. He started sharing his thoughts about things and concepts, studying with you in the library on quiet evenings. The smile on his face appeared more often, making your own widen even so slightly. He started to let you in, allowing to take a peek inside his carefully constructed walls.

And he hadn’t regretted it since then, not even once.

"Matt, are you overthinking again?" you asked, running your fingers through his curls in a soothing motion.

He shifted his head on your stomach slightly to look up at you, snapping out of his thoughts. The lazy, warm smile tugged at his lips almost out of habit at the sight of you — so relaxed and soft, lying on his bed. With him. Merlin, he was the luckiest man out there.

He leaned into your hand in his hair, silently asking you not to stop. "Nah, just thinking about how much I adore my girl," he said with a small, cheeky smile, looking up at you.

His words made you chuckle softly, and that widened the smile on his lips, showing the dimple on his left cheek. He loved your laugh, and he loved it even more when he was the reason for it.

Mattheo buried his face into your stomach, inhaling your scent deeply, sinking into your warmth. An involuntary sigh of content escaped his lips.

And, for once, he was perfectly fine with that.

Control was a comforting illusion, something he had clung to his entire life. But this — this chaotic, terrifying, wonderful thing he had with you — was the one addiction he never wanted to give up.

[pretentious-blonde]

for you? always

pairing: steve harrington x reader

summary: you’re unravelling—badly—but steve refuses to let you fall apart alone

warnings: toxic work environments, crying, SWEET STEVE OMG

a/n: i made a part 3 but can be read as a STANDALONE, and once again, it is hurt/comfort. i just love sweet steve!!

series masterlist

It might be an exaggeration, but Steve Harrington didn’t think life could get much better than this. 

He was standing behind the counter at Family Video, half-listening to Robin as she complained, not really giving her his full attention. She could have been ranting about his terrible sorting system, or the stain on the carpet neither of them had managed to get out since last week. He wasn’t too sure. His focus was more invested at the clock on the far wall, waiting for it to hit 6 p.m. 

It was Friday night, closing time. Normally, he’d be stoked to clock out and get home, maybe lounge around or hang with the kids. But for almost four weeks now, his evenings had been filled with something—someone—more exciting. 

He was aware of how annoying he had gotten. Hell, even Robin teased him about it, calling him the “lovesick puppy,” for the amount of times he was caught staring out the door wistfully, hoping you would wander in on your lunch break. 

She wasn’t exactly wrong, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. Plus, if he could put up with months of her pining after Vicky, she could put up with it for a little while longer. 

Four weeks—four perfect weeks since that first time you let him take you out for dinner. He brought you to Enzo’s, the fanciest spot in town, really trying to impress you.

He couldn’t wipe the grin off his face remembering it: the two of you tucked into a booth, your eyes lighting up when you tasted the pasta, holding it up for him to try it from your fork, your giggle when he got some of the sauce on the side of his mouth. He became acutely aware of your laugh, actually. It was quickly becoming one of his favourite sounds. 

After he’d driven you home that night and dropped you off at your door, he’d stood there, wanting so badly to kiss you, but also not wanting to assume just because you let him before, he could do it again. 

So, he’d leaned in awkwardly, maybe an inch too far, and you’d given him the sweetest little smile that told him to relax and pulled him in the rest of the way. That moment was etched into his memory, something he found himself revisiting over and over. 

And from there, it had only gotten better. 

The second date at the local diner (you’d shared fries with him and stole a sip of his milkshake), the movie night where he insisted you pick the snacks—any snacks, your call—and still ended up grabbing M&Ms halfway through the film, claiming it was for “variety.” Then there was the afternoon you invited him over to bake cookies—insisting it would be a fun bonding activity—only to end up with flour in your hair and half the dough on the floor, while Steve practically bent over double laughing at how grumpy you looked in your patterned apron. 

And that perfect night at Lover’s Lake. God, he was happy you hadn’t grown up around here. He took full advantage of your lack of knowledge about the location. It was magical, lying on a threadbare blanket underneath the stars. You’d called him “a total sap” when he waxed poetic about constellations he barely remembered the names of.

He had caught you smiling at him like he’d hung the moon himself. He’d stolen a kiss—okay, maybe two, or three—when you’d turned your head toward him, and the surprise on your face melted immediately into something so soft. It made him sure you were feeling the same as him. By the time he was driving you home, hand resting on your thigh, you both felt like you’d just lived out a scene in one of those old romance movies he pretended not to like.

Then came your visits to his territory. He could still picture the day you stepped through the door, a shy smile on your lips. He tried to maintain some level of professional cool, but the moment Robin saw you, she took it upon herself to tease him relentlessly. “So you’re the one Harrington won’t shut up about.” 

He’d glared but couldn’t hide the flush in his cheeks. You’d just grinned, leaning against the counter, and introduced yourself to Robin, who then spent the rest of the shift chatting with you while Steve tried to play it cool and failed miserably.

Yet somehow, that failure felt okay—good, even—because seeing you click so easily with his best friend just made his day sweeter.

Yes, the last month had been a whirlwind—one that left him with a permanent giddy glow.

He liked you, really liked you, in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time. Maybe ever.

And it wasn’t just because you looked great in every light—though, let’s be honest, that didn’t hurt—but because you seemed to get him. You found humour in his dumb jokes, shared your own stories with him, and let him into your life without any of the hesitations or expectations he’d grown used to.

Even Robin had mentioned how he didn’t snap at customers as much. He threw a glance in her direction, who was now tapping her fingers on a shelf impatiently. 

“Dude,” she said, rolling her eyes, “if you stare at that clock any harder, it’s gonna melt.”

“Give me a break,” Steve smirked, flicking his gaze back at the time. “I’m just… in a good mood, okay?”

“You just want to get out of here to see your girlfriend,” she teased in a sing-song voice.

“She’s not my—” He paused, the flush creeping over his cheeks again. “We haven’t exactly— I mean, yeah, we’re kinda… I dunno, it’s been a few weeks. She might be my girlfriend.”

Robin laughed, smacking him lightly on the arm as she approached. ���You’re so far gone, it’s painful to watch. Honestly, it's jarring watching you be all heart-eyed lately.”

He wanted to deny it, but instead he found himself laughing too. Was it that obvious? Judging by the glances from Robin and the kids—especially Dustin—it definitely was. But he couldn’t bring himself to care; if being obvious meant you were in his life, then so be it.

Finally, the clock hit closing time. Steve turned, circling the counter to the front entrance. He flipped the sign to “Closed,” already imagining what he might do for the rest of the night. 

You told him to come over that evening at around half past, maybe order some late-night takeaway, or go for a drive, or just hang out on the couch, do nothing but talk about your days. It all sounded equally perfect to him. 

As he began turning off the main computer, the store’s phone rang, shrill and unexpected in the quiet. He exchanged a puzzled look with Robin. 

Who the hell was calling this late?

You arrive at your apartment with shoulders hunched. Your day at The Hawkins Post had been a complete train wreck. You’d expected to face challenges when you got into journalism—no one just handed out dream assignments on a silver platter—but you hadn’t expected to be treated like the office errand girl.

All day, you’d been fetching coffees, photocopying pages, and biting your tongue whenever they cracked jokes at your expense.

You told yourself you could handle it, that it was just part of paying your dues. But this afternoon, when they were brainstorming story ideas for the week’s paper, you’d jumped at the chance to volunteer something—anything. Before you could even get more than a sentence out, they’d laughed it off, practically shooing you out of the room.

You clenched your fists, trying not to let tears burn at the back of your eyes as one of the senior editors—some balding guy who’d never bothered learning your name—actually said: “Why don’t you just get us another round of coffee, alright hun?” 

You’d never felt so small in your life.

Now, alone in your living room, the tears finally came. Hot, embarrassing, unwelcome. You kicked off your shoes and tossed your bag aside, your mind buzzing with memories of the condescending smirks you’d gotten. It felt like a punch to the stomach. Made you question what you were even doing there. 

The clock on your bookshelf read 6:00 p.m. That meant Steve was probably about to close. You’d said something about grabbing dinner, or even just hanging out at your place to watch that cheesy horror flick you’d both joked about. Normally, the thought would make your heart lift. But right now? You felt too raw to face him.

Not that you didn’t want to see him—you did, desperately. But something inside you balked at the idea of letting him see you like this: tear-streaked, puffy-eyed, humiliated.

It’s too soon for that, you had only known him for about a month. No point in handing him your emotional baggage just yet. Maybe that was a two or three-month sort of milestone. 

With trembling fingers, you picked up the phone and dialed the number he’d scribbled on a scrap of paper “just in case” you needed him. A part of you wished you had the strength to ask for him, to ask for comfort, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do so.

It rang a few times, and your stomach twisted painfully. Then, his voice came through, warm and cheerful, exactly what you needed and exactly what you felt you didn’t deserve right now.

“Steve?” you asked hesitantly. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” Steve’s tone instantly made your eyes sting with fresh tears. “I’m just finishing up here. Shouldn’t be too much longer. You alright?”

You swallowed, forcing your voice not to crack. 

“Uh… yeah. I mean—no, not really.” You cringed at how shaky you sounded. “I’m not feeling so great, so, um… I think I’m gonna have to cancel tonight.”

There was a moment of silence, and you could practically hear his eyebrows shooting up. “Wait, really? You sure you’re okay? Like fever or something? I can—”

“N-no, I promise, I’m good,” you cut in too quickly, wiping at your cheeks even though he couldn’t see you. “Just think I need some rest.”

“Right. Yeah, okay.” He sounded so disheartened. You didn’t like disappointing him. “If you need anything, will you call me? I can be there in like ten minutes.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, guilt gnawing at you. He was so sweet, and you were lying. Well, half-lying. You weren’t okay. But you couldn’t tell him that. At least not yet.

“I’ll be fine,” you murmured instead. “Just… sorry to cancel.”

He hesitated, that warm voice going even softer. “No, don’t worry about it. Feel better, okay?”

“Yeah. Thanks, Steve,” you said, barely keeping it together. “Talk later.”

You hung up before your voice could betray you. The moment the line clicked, you tossed the phone aside, heart feeling heavier than before.

God, you just hoped he wouldn’t be upset—or that he wouldn’t pry deeper. You didn’t trust yourself not to break down if he asked the right questions.

Still, a tiny part of you wished he’d come anyway.

Steve set the receiver back on its cradle, staring at the phone for a moment longer than necessary. His stomach did a little flip, the kind it did when something was wrong. He could usually read you pretty well by now—your moods, the subtleties in your tone. And that phone call? It screamed distress.

Robin, who’d been watching from across the store, raised an eyebrow. “What’s going on?”

Steve ran a hand through his hair, glancing at her. “She canceled.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” Robin’s face immediately fell into sympathy. “That really sucks.”

He shook his head, grimacing. “No, I don’t think it’s… I mean, I hope it’s not that. She sounded off, like… said she wasn’t feeling well.”

Robin tilted her head. “She’s sick? Flu or something?”

Steve chewed on his bottom lip, trying to reconcile the tension in his gut.

“She said she just needs rest. I offered to bring her something, but she shot it down.”

Robin gave him a long look, then sighed dramatically, piecing together the puzzle. 

“Harrington, come on. You told me she just moved here, right? She’s got no family around? No close friends yet?”

“Yeah, she’s new,” he admitted, mind flashing back to the time you mentioned how weird it was living in a town where you barely knew anyone.

Robin folded her arms. “So, if she’s not feeling great, she’s gonna be alone.”

“Yeah,” Steve repeated, slower this time. A prickle of realisation stirred in him.

“Which might mean,” Robin continued in her usual exasperated tone, “that you, as the devoted whatever-you-are—boyfriend? friend? something—should maybe check on her anyway.”

His eyes widened. “But she said—”

“People say a lot of things,” Robin cut him off. “Sometimes they don’t want to feel like a burden. Or they’re embarrassed. You, of all people, should get that, right?”

A flicker of memory—Steve himself blowing off concerned offers because he didn’t want to look weak—made him swallow hard.

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath. “You think the pharmacy’s still open?”

Robin gave him a small, genuine smile. “Definitely. Swing by, grab some tea or cough drops, or whatever else might help. And maybe the grocery store for soup.”

Steve nodded firmly, adrenaline already buzzing in his veins. You’re alone. You’re upset. He sure as hell wasn’t going to let you suffer through that. Not if he could help it.

“You’re a genius.”

“Yeah, yeah, get out of here.” She waved him off. “And call me later—if you’re still alive. Just in case she actually has the plague or something.”

“Ha-ha,” he shot back as he flew around the counter, grabbing his jacket and headed for the door. 

Steve hovered outside your apartment door, bouncing nervously on the balls of his feet, an overstuffed bag clutched in one hand. He’d stopped at three different stores, grabbing tea, soup, your favorite candy, a variety of painkillers—everything he could think of to help you feel better.

Maybe he was totally wrong about the situation. I mean, hey, it wouldn’t be the first time. Maybe you truly wanted space. Maybe he’d overstepped. Maybe he’d come off overbearing. 

But the memory of your shaky voice on the phone nagged at him. He couldn’t just stay away. You’d insisted you were fine, but your voice cracked at the edges. Better to let you tell him in person than for you to suffer in silence.

So he took a breath, rang the doorbell, and braced himself.

When you opened the door, it was worse than he expected. Way worse. Every bit of resolve he’d mustered wavered.

You were still in your wrinkled work clothes, eyes red, cheeks blotchy. It was obvious you’d been crying, and the sight of it knocked the air from his lungs. Instantly, all of Steve’s doubts vanished, replaced by a need to do whatever he could to help.

“Hey,” he said softly, attempting a small, reassuring smile. You looked ready to apologise, but before you could say a word, your eyes brimmed with fresh tears. His heart clenched as he gently pushed the door open wider and slipped inside, letting the bag drop beside him.

“Hey, c’mon,” he murmured, pulling you toward him immediately. Not expecting to find you in this state, but nonetheless prepared to help. “It’s okay. Talk to me, yeah? Are you—are you feeling sick, or…?”

You stood there, overwhelmed, arms shaking as you let yourself cling to him. Steve’s heart ached—the same way it did when he saw one of the kids upset, except this was deeper, more urgent.

Your lips parted, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, you closed your eyes and sank further against him, your breath catching in a muffled sob.

It was all he needed to hear.

He readjusted his arms to fit you better, cradling the back of your head, letting you cry into his shoulder. He could feel how shaken you were, how close you were to coming completely undone. It made him want to bury you in every comfort he could possibly give.

“Shh,” he whispered, voice steady. “I’ve got you. You’re okay. You’re alright.” He didn’t know if those things were true, but by the end of the evening, he would make sure they would be.

You pressed your face into his chest, holding him like he was the only solid thing in your life right now. He felt the tremor in your shoulders, the ragged rise and fall of your breaths, and it lit that familiar spark inside him—he needed to fix this. Except he didn’t know how yet. But he would try. So for now he just held you, gently running his hand across your back.

Eventually, he guided you away from the door, nudging it shut behind him with his foot. He decided it would be better to get you settled before trying to get you to talk.  

“C’mon,” he murmured, leading you to the couch. “I…I brought a bunch of stuff—tea, soup, that candy you like…” He tried a tentative smile, but worry still ached in his gut.

Those things seemed rather redundant now that he spoke them aloud. When he looked at you, it appeared you didn’t even register what he was saying. Whatever was ailing you, it certainly wasn't the flu.

“Hey,” he said again, voice hushed so as not to scare you. “Please tell me what’s wrong.” His gaze flicked over your tear-stained cheeks, and you could practically feel the genuine concern radiating off him. “I just… I want to help. I can’t help until you tell me what’s wrong. So… let me try, okay?”

His words hung in the air, soft and pleading. There was so much earnestness in his eyes, it almost hurt. He was trying so hard, and you could tell he was moments away from offering every solution under the sun.

That was who he was—a guy who dove in headfirst, wanting to protect and fix. And though part of you still felt hesitant, the rest of you knew you needed him right now. His soft, brown eyes begging you to let him in. 

It would be cruel to tell him not to worry, especially since he already saw the state you were in. You took a deep breath as you tried to gather your thoughts. 

“Work was… hard,” you start, voice trembling on the last word.

Steve nods, encouraging you to continue. “Yeah?” He scoots a little closer. “Tell me about it, angel.”

You bite your lip, hesitating. The humiliation still burns in your chest, but as soon as you see the concern in his eyes, the words begin tumbling out.

“All the guys at the paper,” you say, swallowing hard, “they basically laughed in my face today. I wanted to pitch an idea—I thought, maybe if I showed some initiative, they’d take me seriously.” You pause, a bitter laugh escaping your throat. “Turns out, they don’t.”

He inches forward, the couch creaking beneath his weight. “They laughed?”

“Yeah,” you confirm, blinking away tears. “The whole room, practically. They didn’t even let me finish. Just told me to go make more copies or bring them more coffee. I felt so stupid. Like I’m not cut out for any of this.”

Your voice cracks, and Steve’s expression tightens with empathy. He raises a hand to your cheek, carefully brushing away a stray tear with his thumb before tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I know how you feel,” he says softly. Then he corrects himself with a small shrug. “Well, not exactly. I know someone else who went through that crap. I don’t know the full story, but from what I heard, it was awful.”

Nancy let slip here and there snippets from her time at The Hawkins Post. The incessant ridicule, the constant demeaning remarks. It irked him then, but now? He was vexed. Grown men picking on you all for a power trip? Unbelievable. 

He had to school his anger before he said something regretful, he always did have a sharp tongue. What you needed now was comfort, not someone going on a rampage on your behalf.

“Really?” You ask.

“Yeah. But you know what I do know?” Steve continues, his voice dropping to a firm, truthful tone. “Those guys? They’re idiots, alright?”

“Maybe…” A shaky laugh escapes your lips, and you sniff, wiping at your nose with the back of your hand. “They made me feel like a complete joke.”

“No way. Not even close.” He shakes his head firmly, like he wants to banish that thought forever. He won’t allow you to linger in self-doubt. “You’re brilliant. Look, you picked up and moved across the country by yourself, found a place to live, and started a brand-new job in a town where you barely know anyone. That takes guts.”

You wrap your arms around yourself, feeling the weight of the day pressing in again.

“Feels like it was a dumb move,” you admit, voice quieter. “Like I’m playing dress-up in a grown-up’s world, and everyone else can see I’m an imposter.”

A flicker of protectiveness flashes across Steve’s face. He can’t stand the idea of you belittling yourself—he’s seen how you throw yourself into your work, how bravely you uprooted everything to move here, how determined you can be when you set your mind on something.

“Hey,” he says, tilting your chin so you’re forced to meet his eyes. “Don’t say that. You’re strong, you’re smart, and if they can’t see that, well…” He shrugs. “That’s on them. They’re the ones missing out. I swear half those guys probably haven’t stepped foot outside of Indiana.”

When you lean into him, relief flickers in his chest. 

Thank God, maybe he’s getting through. 

He tucks you closer against his side, letting you rest your head on his shoulder.

“Whatever you decide to do, you’ll crush it,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to the crown of your head. “I believe that.”

“Yeah?” you ask, voice thick.

“Absolutely.” He gives you a little squeeze. “You want a new job? You’ll find one. You want to stay and prove those assholes wrong? You’ll do that too. Just say the word, and I’ll be right there to cheer you on. Or beat them up, if that’s easier.”

Despite the tears still threatening at the corners of your eyes, you let out a half-chuckle. “I’ve never really been much of a quitter,” you admit, the first spark of determination returning to your tone.

“Didn’t think so,” he says with a grin, admiration evident in his voice. “Strong girl like you? You’re gonna do just fine.”

You nestle closer into him, thankful beyond words that he’s here, that he understands in a way you desperately needed someone to.

Steve’s just relieved that you’re letting him be the one to help you shoulder the weight. Something else he realised this evening was that he hates seeing you hurt, but if being here—listening, comforting—helps even a little, then it’s worth every second.

You exhale a shaky breath and smooth down the front of your shirt, eyes still puffy from crying. You feel lighter, like a burden’s been lifted just from having Steve here. Even with a hint of embarrassment. 

“Sorry,” you say, voice quiet. “For making you worry, I mean. I should’ve just told you what was going on.”

Steve’s gaze flicks over your face. “You didn’t—well, okay, maybe I was worried,” he admits, a tiny wry smile tugging at his lips. “But I’d prefer it if you just told me when you’re sad. I mean, I can’t fix everything, but I want to help—when you’ll let me.”

You nod, fingers picking at a loose thread on the couch cushion. “I still feel bad for lying earlier. Telling you I was sick.” You let out a soft, self-deprecating laugh. “You got me soup and everything.”

“Yeah, well,” he says, shifting with a touch of bashfulness. “What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t at least try to look after you?”

A beat passes, and then your eyes snap to his. 

“Boyfriend?”

Steve freezes, colour blooming across his cheeks. 

Shit.

“Uh… yeah?” He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. “I mean, that’s—what did you think we were doing? I figured we were… you know, dating. I pick you up, I pay for stuff, sometimes we—uh—we kiss—” He falters, stumbling over his words. “Not all the time, but—”

You press your lips together, fighting a smile as you watch him ramble. Something tender wells up inside you. It’s like he’s laid himself bare—admitting out loud how he sees you, how he sees this. And it’s so damn endearing you can’t help the small giggle that escapes.

“You’re cute when you’re embarrassed,” you tease, reaching to gently poke his cheek.

He groans, cheeks going even pinker. “You’re unbelievable,” he mutters, covering his face with one hand. “I can’t believe—”

You place your hand over his, coaxing him to look at you. “I like the idea of you being my boyfriend,” you say softly, each word weaving comfort through the space between you.

“Yeah?” His eyes widen, and for a second, he looks almost boyish with relief. “You do?”

A small smile curves your lips as you lean in. “Yeah.” 

You slide a hand to his cheek, guiding him into a kiss—slow, sweet, and laced with the warmth of everything you’ve been lacking back all day. He exhales against your mouth, shoulders easing with the gentle press of your lips. His thumb strokes lightly over your jaw as he returns the kiss, and you taste a hint of peppermint from the candy he’d been snacking on in the car. When he finally pulls back, breath a little unsteady, there’s a stunned happiness in his eyes. 

“So…” he murmurs, voice catching in his throat. “I’m your boyfriend.” He tried to make it sound like a joke but you could see the question behind his statement. He wanted full clarification here. He wanted to hear you say it out loud. 

You can’t help the grin that spreads across your face. “Yes, Steve. You’re my boyfriend.”

“That’s—God.” He laces his fingers through yours, a giddy laugh bubbling from his chest. “That’s—yeah. Glad we cleared that up.”

You both end up in the kitchen soon after, unpacking the soup he brought. It’s nothing fancy—just store-bought chicken noodle—but it warms you from the inside out as you eat together, perched on stools by the counter. He slides you half the candy he picked up, and you pass the bag back and forth, bumping shoulders with quiet smiles. There’s something so normal about it—the day’s troubles left behind in another world.

Later, you curl up on the couch together, switching on the TV. Steve insists you get first pick after the day you had. You flick through the channels until you settle on some old sitcom that neither of you pay much attention to. You’re more focused on the weight of his arm around your shoulders, the steady rhythm of his breathing.

Eventually, the clock inches toward midnight. The hum of the television plays softly in the background as you shift to look at him. 

“Hey, are you working tomorrow?”

He winces a little. “Yeah,” he says, regret threading through his voice. “’Fraid so. Saturdays are insane. I tried to switch shifts, but Keith was being a total pain. I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

“Don’t apologise,” you shake your head. “I was just wondering if… you wanted to stay here tonight.” Your cheeks warm slightly at the invitation. “I live closer, and I’ve got a spare toothbrush somewhere. Plus…” You clear your throat, dropping your gaze momentarily. “I’d really rather not be alone tonight.”

Steve’s eyes flicker with surprise and then a rush of tenderness. “You—you want me to stay? I mean, I don’t want to impose. Not like in a—like we don’t have to—I mean—”

You cut off his rambling by resting a hand over mouth.

“Steve.” Your smile is gentle. “Stay the night, please? I’m asking you to.”

He searches your face, seeing sincerity there, and his entire demeanour softens. You’re too damn sweet for your own good, he swears. 

“Alright,” he breathes. “Yeah. I’ll stay.” Then he leans in, pressing a slow, grateful kiss to your temple. “Thank you.”

Eventually, the two of you shuffle into your bedroom, quietly laughing as you rummage around for that spare toothbrush you promised. You lend him an old T-shirt that’s slightly snug across his shoulders, which only makes you giggle more. By the time you both slip beneath the blankets, the mood has shifted from the sadness of the day to the tenderness of tonight. 

He wraps an arm around your waist, and you snuggle into his chest, breathing in his soft scent. For a moment, neither of you says anything—it’s enough just to lie there, safe and comfortable, heartbeats syncing in the quiet. 

“Night, sweetheart.” He murmurs and you sigh in agreement, already being lulled into sleep. It’s a happy sound—one that makes him pull you closer as you drift off. 

You stir awake to the warmth of Steve’s arm still draped over your waist. Morning light filters through the curtains, illuminating the little dust particles swirling in the morning light. The alarm you set starts to go off and he lets out a quiet groan, burying his face in the curve of your shoulder as if he can hide from the responsibilities of the day. You can’t help but smile, tracing idle patterns on the back of his hand.

“I don’t wanna go,” he mumbles, voice muffled against your skin.

You push a sleepy chuckle past your lips. “You have to—Robin would miss you too much.”

“No she wouldn’t.” He sighs dramatically, rolling onto his back and turning off the blaring sound. “Probably count it as a blessing not to put up with me for a whole Saturday.” But there’s a small, silly grin on his face that betrays the fondness beneath all the complaining.

A short while later, you’re both in the kitchen, sipping hastily brewed coffee due to your shared reluctance to get up. You lean against the counter, watching as he rubs sleep from his eyes and nurses his mug like it’s the only thing keeping him upright. You don’t say anything about the state of his hair, enjoying the way it falls messily across his forehead. 

“You sure you’re feeling better?” he asks, gaze flickering over you, still laced with concern even though you’ve assured him more times than you can count.

You nod, a softer smile pulling at your lips. “I am. Thanks to you,” you add, nudging his foot with yours, blushing with how sappy you’re both being.

He tries for a humble shrug, but the flush creeping up his neck is unmistakable.

“Anytime, angel.”

Before long, the clock reminds him that time is up. He slips into yesterday’s shirt—grimacing a bit at the wrinkles—and heads for the door. You follow, hands clasped around your mug. At the threshold, he turns to you, pressing a gentle goodbye kiss to your lips.

Then another.

And another.

“Steve, you’re gonna be late.” You let out an exasperated laugh, placing a firm hand on his chest.

He grins like a kid caught stealing candy. “What—trying to get rid of me already?”

“You know I’m not,” you sigh, rolling your eyes as you gently shove him. “I’m literally seeing you after you clock out!”

His voice lowers playfully as he backs out the door. “Damn right you are.”

He winks, then sets off, leaving you with a warm, tingly feeling long after he disappears from sight.

When Steve finally strolls into Family Video, he finds Robin already at the counter, re-shelving tapes. She glances up, raises an eyebrow, and greets him with a lazy wave.

“Hey. So… how’d it—” She stops mid-sentence, narrowing her eyes at him. “Wait a second.” She points accusingly at his shirt. “That is the same outfit from yesterday! You did not—”

“Whoa,” Steve lifts both hands defensively. “It’s not like that, okay?”

Robin sets down the tapes, folding her arms over her chest. “Then enlighten me. Because it sure looks like you had a fun night.”

“Ugh,” he groans, scrubbing a hand across his face. “It was—look, it’s not what you think. She was having a rough time, I went to check on her, and… well, I stayed over. Nothing crazy.”

Robin cocks her head, curiosity replacing her initial look. “So she’s okay?”

She may not know you as well as Steve did, but if you were important to him, you were important to her too. 

“Yeah. She will be.” He nods, and a small, proud smile graces his lips. “My girl’s tough.”

Her eyes light up. “Your girl, huh?”

He bobs his head, trying to hide the giddy surge that washes over him. “Yeah. Officially.”

Robin squeals—actually squeals—and Steve flushes, glancing around to make sure there are no customers to witness it. 

“We have to do a double date!” she says, practically bouncing on her heels. “We’ll get Vickie—”

“Rob,” Steve pleads, fighting to keep the corners of his mouth from curving up too high, “let’s not scare her off, okay? One step at a time.”

“Fine,” Robin huffs, but she’s beaming at him. “But soon. I’m serious.”

He rolls his eyes, yet there’s no denying the warmth in his expression. The truth is, he’s never felt so content. The memory of your smile still fresh in his mind, and the knowledge that, yes, you’re his girl. Officially.

“Yeah, we’ll figure something out,” Steve says quietly, stocking a few tapes behind the counter. His voice is softer than usual, carrying a note of contentment Robin hasn’t heard in him for a long, long time.

She shoots him a conspiratorial grin. “I’m happy for you.”

“Yeah,” he murmurs, thinking of how you looked in the morning light, how sweet it felt to hold you close and kiss you goodbye. He looks out the window toward your apartment, knowing you’re going to be there when he leaves in a few hours. “Me too.”

[d4n1elll4]

───〃𖹭 THEODORE NOTT

“Cynical? Me? I'll have you know that I make daisy-chains and frolic with unicorns on the weekends.”

𖹭 BELLA, I THINK YOU DROPPED SOMETHING—MY HEART. by hjpsdiary [DRABBLE] [0.4K]

⇢ Theo asks you to the Yulle Ball.

𖹭 DARLING SOCIALITE by fangisms [ONESHOT] [1.3K]

⇢ You are talkative as all hell, and Theo has dubbed himself your devoted listener.

𖹭 FOLLOWING INSTRUCTIONS by dramaticals [ONESHOT] [4.6K]

⇢ Enemies with benefits with Theo where they're constantly insulting each other but they still can't get enough.

𖹭 HIDE by bettymylove [DRABBLE] [0.3K]

⇢ You, an animagus, hide away and Theo cannot find you.

𖹭* I DARE YOU TO STEAL HIS CLOTHES | PT.2 by papercorgiworld [TWOSHOT]

⇢ Luna dares you to steal his clothes while he’s showering. I mean what can possibly go wrong…? *wink wink*

𖹭 I THOUGHT YOU KNEW by agirlsguidetolove [DRABBLE] [0.9K]

⇢ “I thought you knew?” “You thought I knew we were dating?” “Yes!” “How would i know that, Nott? You never told me!”

𖹭 LESSONS IN LOVE by obsessedwithceleste [ONESHOT] [3.3K]

⇢ Why Enzo should be banned from advanced potion making.

𖹭 LOVE LIES by obsessedwithceleste [ONESHOT] [5.2K]

⇢ You’re just as confused as everyone else when your mortal enemy wakes up fully convinced that you’re the love of his life. (Spoiler alert: literally no one else was surprised)

𖹭 MY NECKLACE by anawritez-posts [DRABBLE] [0.4K]

⇢ You’re wearing a necklace Theo gave you years ago when you were best friend, and he can’t stop staring at hit.

𖹭 OH HEART, AND THEN IT FALLS by cupidddd-d [DRABBLE] [0.6K]

⇢ In which Theodore Nott is actually nice to you?

𖹭 PERSONAL HEATER by bibbityboppitybillyharvgrove [DRABBLE] [0.6K]

⇢ Theo acts as his sleepy girlfriends personal heater on the night before Christmas, much to the dislike of their friends and roommates.

𖹭 PET DATES by drmaddict [ONESHOT] [3.7K]

⇢ When Theo took a cat into his dormitory one evening, he didn't expect to wake up next to a girl the next morning. You, who were walking around the school in your Animagus form, didn't really expect to be used as a teddy bear that night either. NOTE: I LOVE this kind of tropes, this one is *chef kiss* hihi.

𖹭* THAT’S WHAT I SAID by iniquitousyearning [ONESHOT] [3K]

⇢ Your boyfriend was telling you about his day, when he began speaking fluent Italian, knowing damn well you only knew select words. When you asked him to repeat it, he had you come sit on his lap and ended up doing a little more than just repeating it.

𖹭 THE CAT CHRONICLES by obsessedwithceleste [ONESHOT] [5.9K]

⇢ Five times Theodore Nott “accidentally” stole your cat.

𖹭 THE BOY WHO STARES | THE BOY WHO FOLDED FIRST by iris-qt [TWOSHOT] [2.4K]

⇢ Theodore Nott keeps staring at you in class, and you’re this close to assuming he’s plotting your doom. Turns out, he’s just catastrophically bad at flirting.

𖹭 WHY COULDN’T IT’VE BEEN MINIGOLF by obsessedwithceleste [ONESHOT] [1.9K]

⇢ Your boyfriend is working at a haunted house, but you’d prefer to be literally anywhere else at the carnival.

𖹭 YOU by cryonme [ONESHOT] [1.3K]

⇢ Theo has a temper and a certain grumpiness about him, except with you, no, never with you.

𖹭 YOU’VE BEWITCHED ME by patrophthia [DRABBLE] [0.5K]

⇢ Theodore Nott knows potions, their taste and timing, the trick of a charm and its unraveling. But nothing in his practiced spellbook prepared him for you — your smile, your softness, the way you hold his hand like it anchors your entire world. This isn’t love potion. It’s worse. It’s real.

NOTE: So Theo Nott doesn’t really have any lines in the books or the movies (that I’m aware of anyway) so the quote I used is actually from a dramione fanfiction on Ao3 called Isolation by bexchan. You may have heard of it :) Here’s a LINK if you’d like to read it.

[in-my-feels-probably]

hi!

I saw you were in desperate need of requests for our lovely Slytherin boys, so I figured I'd help haha.

Would you be inspired by "how the Slytherin boys would spend a rainy Sunday morning with you?" if not it's alright :)

love <3

How the Slytherin Boys Would Spend a Rainy Morning with You

Request: Would you be inspired by "how the Slytherin boys would spend a rainy Sunday morning with you?" if not it's alright :)

Hi! This is my first time doing one of these, so hopefully I do alright. Besides Regulus, I’ve never written for these characters, so please bear with me while I try and get the hang of it. Also, I’ve never read the fics Enzo and Mattheo are from, so this is just a little bit of research and a vibe I'm going with. If you think anything is out of character, please tell me, I’m happy getting any feedback to use in later work. Also, I’m ignoring that the boys' dorms are in the dungeons, since I wanted to put a window for some of them. Anyways, thank you so much for the request! I hope you like it :)

(Warnings: mentions of insomnia, insecurity, smoking, let me know if i missed anything)

—

Theodore Nott:

i think he’s definitely an insomniac. any amount of noise is going to wake him up, and then he’ll just be in his head till he finally forces himself out of bed. 

i do think the sound of rain would make him tired too, but it would be so distracting that he couldn’t sleep through it. he’d be so frustrated, and maybe a little grumpy.

before you, he’d use the time to smoke outside under a covering undisturbed. but with you, he just wouldn’t be able to bring himself to get out of bed. he wants to go smoke, but he’s not about to wake you up. you’d ask him if he wants to go outside once you wake up, but he’d just shake his head.

you’re a much needed distraction, and he just wants to be close to you. i think he’s a bit touch starved, and he’d want you to hold him while he rests a little while longer.

nap time if he can fall asleep for sure. you’d be able to see how tired he was, and just gently try to coax him to rest for a little while longer till the rain passed.

Theo had been up for quite a while when you finally stirred. It was still quite early, and you had not intended on getting up until you felt the empty spot in the bed next to you. You found him sitting at the foot of the bed, a far off look in his eye. You furrowed your brows in confusion, sitting up to reach out to him. He nearly jumped up as he felt your hand on his shoulder, only relaxing when he turned around to see you gazing up at him. 

“Are you alright?” You asked, running your thumb along the curve of his shoulder. “Can’t sleep?”

He just nodded his head to the window where you could see the rain breaching the wake of the Black Lake. “The rain. It woke me up a little bit ago.”

“A little bit?” You asked, trying to hide your frown when you saw the dark rings developing around and under his eyes. 

He hadn’t slept well the past couple of nights, and you were hoping he was going to do better with you sleeping with him. But the weather had other plans.

He let out a frustrated sigh, having to take a calming breath. “Just maybe an hour or two.”

You could tell how aggravated not being able to sleep was making him. He couldn't sleep when he tried–and he couldn’t stay asleep once he finally managed to drift off. It was a vicious cycle, and you wished you could ease his pain. You looked over to the pack of cigarettes on his nightstand, seeing that one had been pulled out but not lit.

You gave his shoulder a squeeze, your voice soft. “Wanna go outside and smoke? I’ll come with you if you do, just let me–”.

Theo could feel embarrassment bubbling in his chest, feeling his skin heat. You knew him so well, even when neither of you had to say anything. You just understood how he ticked, and sometimes that frightened him. 

He knew there was nothing about him that you judged or looked down on–he knew that. But sometimes, with how gentle and understanding you treated him, he’d begin to feel like a burden. Like he was something you convinced yourself you had to fix out of obligation, not because you wanted to. He couldn’t have been more wrong, but it was hard for him to see that. And when he saw you going out of your way to try and help him, he shut it down.

“No, pretty girl,” he interrupted, reaching up to cradle your cheek in his palm. “I’ll go later. Go back to sleep. You don’t need to be up for a while.”

You could feel your chest tighten. He needed your help, but he didn’t know how to ask for it–he didn’t know how to accept it. The day had barely started, and you could see how drained he was already. And with a full week of classes coming up?

He wasn't going to make it.

“Come here, sweet boy,” you pleaded, laying back down against the pillows and opening your arms. “Forget about the rain for a moment. Just lay with me for a bit. You don’t have to sleep–just close your eyes and breath.”

Theo almost said no. 

He was so close to shaking his head and brushing you off, but he couldn’t ignore the look in your eyes. You wanted to hold him just as much as he needed to be held, and he was so exhausted that he didn’t have it in him to argue. He finally relented, crawling back into bed with you under the covers. He rested his head against your chest, letting his arms settle around your waist. You threaded your fingers through his hair, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. It was quiet for a moment as you stared up at the ceiling, his gaze set on the window.

“I can hear your heartbeat,” he murmured after a moment, pressing a kiss into your skin. “It’s nice.”

You smiled, knowing he could hear how your heart fluttered at his words. “Good. Focus on that, not the rain. Close your eyes, baby. Just rest.”

—

Lorenzo Berkshire:

this man is 100% the kind of guy that stomped in puddles as a little kid after it rained, even if his parents yelled at him for it. 

he’d want to let you sleep, but he’d be so excited that—if you didn’t wake up fast enough—he’s easing you awake and begging you to come outside with him.

he wouldn’t want you getting wet tho, he doesn’t want you catching a cold or feeling uncomfortable. he just wants to be able to look at you while he enjoys his morning.

if you wanna splash in the puddles with him, he’ll get over himself and agree. but if you get sick, you’re getting a firm “i told you so,” but of course he’d take care of you anyways.

he’d think you look ADORABLE, even if you were soaked. once you get back inside to change, you better believe that man is throwing you one of his hoodies before you have a chance to put on something else.

You groaned as the bed shifted next to you, and a hand gently pulled at your shoulder. It was far too early for you to be up—Enzo especially, who loved nothing more than to sleep in—and you shrugged away as you buried your face in the pillows.

“Honey, please,” Enzo pleaded with you, a warm hand coming to cup your cheek. “I can’t wait any longer.”

You cracked one eye open, peering up at him with a huff of frustration. “What is it?”

“It’s raining!” He said excitedly, rolling out of bed to peer out the window.

You smiled, letting out an exasperated chuckle. You groaned as you pushed yourself up into a sitting position, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. Enzo was practically halfway out the window already, leaning over the rail to see the grounds below.

“It rains nearly every week, darling,” you said, the covers pooling around your waist.

“Not like this,” he rationalized, coming back over to the bed to put on his shoes. “The puddles down there are massive.”

You smiled wider, leaning down to the foot of the bed where he was sitting to wrap your arms around his waist. “You’re so adorable, sometimes. Still a kid at heart, I think. My life would be a lot happier if I could see it like how you see yours.”

“Actually, I’m adorable all the time,” he corrected, turning around to press a kiss to your cheek. “But you’re the reason my life is happy. Jumping in those puddles downstairs will just make me happier. Come with me?”

You nodded, throwing on some clothes before following him down the stairs to the ground below. 

You winced as he slipped before steadying himself, letting out a laugh as he continued running. You internally urged him to be more careful, but you couldn’t help but smile from under the covered archway as he splashed around in the water, a dreamy glaze over his eyes. It must have been quite the sight to anyone looking out the windows above you. 

One of the most popular Slytherins in the entire school–splashing around in puddles like a child.

After a moment, you stepped out into the rain with him. He held out a hand for you to steady yourself, before placing his hands on your waist to keep you from slipping. He smoothed your hair back to keep it from matting to your face when you stilled.

“Go back under the cover, sweetheart. It’s too cold. I don’t want you getting sick out here.”

You shook your head, letting your arms settle around his neck. “And why would I do that? You’re out here. You’re just as likely to get sick.”

“Yes, but I have you to take care of me. You’ll end up with Madam Pomfrey if you get sick, she’s a lot more capable of taking care of you than me.”

You shrugged, blinking the rain out of your eyes. “Poppy and I get along quite well.”

Enzo let you stay out with him another moment longer, before he was leading you both back inside. As soon as you got back up to his dorm, he was casting a Warming Charm on you and shoving you into the bathroom to change clothes. The second you stepped out, he was helping you pull one of his hoodies over your head.

“Better?” You asked, grinning when his cheeks flushed a rosy pink.

He nodded, pulling you close. “Better.

—

Mattheo Riddle:

rainy day? oh, you mean never come out from under the covers day?

he’d absolutely whine about being cold. expect cold feet touching your legs, even when you’re squirming and trying to push him away. he’s not letting go. you’re his personal heater.

he’s definitely using it as a day to just be close to you and talk. he hardly ever lets himself be completely vulnerable around you, but being this close to you makes him feel like he can. just listen as best you can, and he’ll value that time with you so much.

i do think he’d get a bit uncomfortable and restless after a while, but he’d still want to keep talking to you like this. so you’d come up with some excuse to bring him somewhere else secluded so he can still be open with you but more comfortably.

but getting wet? an absolute no from him. wherever you take him has to be dry, or you will be hearing about it from him for the rest of the day.

You woke up to ice cold feet rubbing against your shins, opening your eyes with a gasp. Mattheo had wrapped himself around you tightly, his arms trapping you in his hold.

“Mattheo!” You whined, trying to squirm away. “Matty, please get your feet off me. And, for Merlin’s sake, put on socks! I told you last time!”

“I can’t get out of bed in this weather! It’s too cold, darling.”

You could practically feel his teeth chattering. He nuzzled his head into your neck, but you could feel his grin when he slid his foot down your leg. You eventually relented, turning around in his hold to face him so he could pull you closer. 

“Come here, you big baby,” you mused, making it a point to kick his foot away before you hooked your leg around his to warm him up.

You stayed like that for a long while, his head tucked up into your neck. Every once in a while, he’d murmur something into your skin, his voice low as he talked to you. You listened, muttering praises into his ear and coaxing him to continue every time there was a moment of silence. It was unusual to have him be this open with you, and you weren’t about to let him pull away. 

After a while, Mattheo started to fidget. He’d stretch a limb one at a time before curling back into you, continuing to talk. You could see the strain on his face—you could hear it in his voice. Finally, you reached for your wand, casting a Warming Charm over you both. You stood up, pulling on a hoodie of his before passing another one to him.

“Come on, my love. Your bed is too tiny and the dungeons are too cold for us to both be cooped up in here all day. Let’s get you warm somewhere else.”

He grumbled as he pulled himself out of bed, but he eagerly took the hand you offered him. “If I get rained on I’m not talking to you for the rest of the day.”

“We both know that’s not true, darling,” you grinned, pressing a kiss to the back of his hand before pulling him out the door.

—

Regulus Black:

early riser for SURE.

like he’s definitely the type to wake up in the morning and just lay there and think. and with you there, he’d be more than content to just lay with you and listen to the rain. 

he strikes me as the kind of person who likes an overcast sky. the sound of rain is calming, the sight of you is calming, and he wouldn’t feel like he needed to get up or do something productive. he’d just lay there and wait till you woke up to see what you wanted to do.

he really values his alone time, but he’d also appreciate sharing that time with you sometimes. you don’t have to talk, either. silence is good sometimes, and it brings him peace. 

but he’s definitely the type that wants to stay in under the covers and just have the day with you. and if the rain stopped in the next ten minutes? he doesn’t care. he’s declared it a rainy day, and you can’t change his mind.

Regulus had been up for hours by the time you woke up. He had propped himself up against his headboard, and gently moved you to where your head was resting against his stomach. He had been absentmindedly smoothing his hand over your hair when you finally opened your eyes, looking up at him.

He felt you move your head, smiling down at you. “Morning, love.”

You took a deep breath, smiling as the fresh air from the open window gently wafted in. You reached for his free hand, intertwining your fingers with his.

“It’s finally raining,” you mused, peering out the window before dropping your head back down against his stomach. “I’ve been waiting all week for it to rain. Looks like it’s clearing up, though.”

“Is it? Well, we’ll ignore that, won’t we? I don’t feel like moving today. I’ll move tomorrow.”

You chuckled into his skin, tracing your fingertips just under the hem of his shirt. “I assume that means I’m not moving either, am I?”

Regulus just hummed, a warm feeling spreading through his chest as you settled yourself back into him. It was quiet for a moment as you both rested, feeling each other’s chests rise and fall. Regulus felt the worries of the day quite literally blow away, allowing himself this time with you. And with how relaxed you looked in his arms, he knew you felt the same way.

“Let me know if you’re getting hungry, alright?” He asked softly just as you were beginning to drift back off. “We can go down.”

You nodded, closing your eyes as you nuzzled closer to him. He smiled to himself, finally tearing his eyes away from you to look back out the window.

— A/N - Hi! I’m so sorry that some of these are a bit longer than others, I just find it easier writing for some of the boys. I have such a soft spot for Theo, and I got a little carried away. I promise to make the next one a little more even and fair. Thank you again for reading and submitting prompts, I’ll gladly take any more you have! I hope you enjoyed this :)

[randofics]

Pain and Warmth pt.2

🎶 The Midnight- America Online

🎶 The Midnight- Crystalline

🎶 The Midnight- Collateral

🎶 The Midnight- Fire in the Sky

Most definitely 18+

This is a continuation of Pain and Warmth pt.1

Dante Sparda x F reader

Was watching some episode reactions, and one person mentioned that Dante in canon hasn't lost his v-card yet? Well, maybe we can fix that 😏.

Hope yall enjoy this one! I'm trying to step up my game with dialog and scenes.

Sorry this was sooo late! Been dealing with some stuff (not anything serious). In fact I'm expecting some chicken hatching eggs any day now in the mail! Ordered some Crested cream legbars to add to my existing flock so I'll have my hands full for the next few months.

I doubt I'll post anything 18+ for a while, too. Don't worry, though. I'll definitely try to do more headcannons and fluffy stuff!

-------

You stood over your propane stove eye cooking for you and Dante. The building he was living in didn't have a working kitchen, so you'd brought over the propane stove temporarily. The decent sized pot bubbled as you sturred it one final time. You'd likely have leftovers, so it was a good thing he at least had a fridge.

You hoped he'd like it. After all, he mostly just ate pizza, and you wanted to give him something with more nutrition. Zucchini skillet was something you made every once in a while. Ground turkey, onions, tomato, zucchini, and greenbeans were the base ingredients along with Italian herbs, garlic powder, and a few pinches of chili powder. It was one of those dishes that just got better the next day.

Testing the zucchini for tenderness, you cut the gas and place the lid on the pot. You set two bowls on the counter with utensils, napkins, and salteen crackers.

Keys jingling catch your attention as you grab a bottle of water and beer out of the fridge. The door squeaks as it's opened, and Dante's familiar bootsteps greet your ears.

-------

Dante sighs as he walks back to his place. The cab driver he'd called could only take him so far. Luckily, it was only a few blocks.

His stomach grumbled. He'd have to call in a pizza. He wondered what you were doing right now. The temptation to call you was strong, but he also didn't want to bother you.

You'd taken some extra hours at work to make up for the days lost to your menstrual cycle. As he rounded the corner, he noticed the lights were on in his place. Maybe it was Enzo. The keys jingle as he unlocks the door, and immediately, the smell of something good cooking catches his nose.

He closed the door behind him and walked to the kitchen, where you stood watching a pot on the counter. "You cooked?."

Turning to him, you smile. "Yep, I figured you could use something a bit more nutritious than pizza." He comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around you and setting his chin on your shoulder. "What is it?"

"Zucchini skillet. Basically, ground turkey, vegetables, and herbs. Hopefully, you'll like it."

"Thank you, baby! I was actually thinking about calling you to go eat out with me, but this is perfect!" He pulls your hair aside and places a few kisses against your neck, holding a hand against your abdomen. You reach back to hold onto him, letting your nails rake over his scalp.

Suddenly, his stomach let's out an audible growl. With a hand over your mouth, you let out a laugh. Dante puts on a grumpy pout as you grab the two bowls, handing him one. "Let's get you fed before your stomach turns on you."

Ever the gentleman, he lets you get your portion first, and you both sit down on the couch. You take a bite, letting the flavor envelop you. As you chew, you glance at Dante as he puts an entire cracker loaded with the turkey and vegetables into his mouth. He chews for a moment, and his eyes widen looking between you and his bowl.

He finishes chewing and swallows it down in one go pointing to the food in his bowl. "This stuff is amazing, y/n!" You give him a bright smile. "Glad to hear it darlin'." He leans closer for a kiss which you happily give.

In total, you think Dante had four bowls full plus the crackers while you only had two. With the both of you stuffed like Thanksgiving turkeys, you took a much needed nap in eachothers arms.

-------

About two hours later, you sturr against him. As you nuzzle into his neck, breathing in his lingering aftershave and natural musk, he mumbles something to you. You hum back in question.

"Is your cycle over?"

"Yeah, why do you ask?"

"No particular reason."

You straddle him, laying against him and relaxing like you're about to fall asleep again. Your face buried in his neck as he kept his arms resting on the back and arm of the couch. A content smile spreads over his face as he looks up at the ceiling. He feels like he could stay here like this forever and be completely happy.

When he feels your lips on his neck, a small blush tints his cheeks. Your lips featherlight brush against his skin, making him bubble with laughter. "Hey, that tickles! Quit it!"

You can't help but smile against him when you hear his laugh. It's genuine and bright. But while tickling him is fun, it's not what you're really in the mood for now.

You move to his throat and, in one swift motion, lick from between his collar bones to his chin. He lets out a choked gasp, hands flying to your hips in an instinctual reaction. Your hips swivel against him as you pull his head back by his white locks gently.

"Ba-baby? What-what're you... doing?" He stumbles on his words as you attack his neck. You drag one hand down his chest to his stomach and waistband, slipping your fingers under the hem of his shirt. Letting your fingers wander, you can feel the dips in his abs as the muscles quiver at your touch.

Rocking against him again, his grip on your hips tightened. When you lean back to look at him, his teal eyes are surprised, and his face is tinted pink. "Wh-what was that about?"

You give him a lopsided grin. "What do you think, big boy?" Caressing his jaw, you give him a peck on the lips then a longer kiss as his eyes flutter closed. He pushes a hand under your shirt, feeling along your spine with gentle fingers. As you roll your hips again, you brush against the front seam of his jeans, striking a bolt of pleasure through you. He feels the shiver down your spine.

"My turn, baby." You feel his hand on the back of your head, the other on your lower back as he kisses your neck. Your shaky breath brushes against his hair as you tilt your head back for him. His nose brushes your jaw as he places open mouth kisses against your pulse.

You feel his hand on your stomach and dipping down just under your waistband to your abdomen. He brings it back up as he nips your skin, slipping his fingers under your bra to lightly massage your breast. You moan at the sudden relief from your breast that you didn't realize was so sore.

You rock your hips again, and a small sound escapes his throat. He sucks a hicky into the junction of your neck and shoulder, and you pull at his white locks.

His hand in your hair moves back to your hip as he ruts up into you. You feel your core clenching as his hips move against yours. When he pulls away from your neck, you lock eyes. "Damn, if being sexy was a crime, you'd be guilty as charged." You let out a breathy chuckle. Of course, he had to pull a one-liner at a time like this.

"Hey, hold onto me, ok?" You nod wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist as he stood. He walked back to his bedroom and set you on the edge of his bed. You watch as he takes off his shirt and belt grinning down at you. "Like what you see, baby?"

Grinning back, you cross your legs, setting your chin in your palm. "Very much darlin'. But I think you'd look even better between my thighs."

"Good one! And I think I'll take you up on that since you're offering."

You stand and pull your shirt off, letting him pull off your bra for you. He can't help but hug you from behind again as he leaves sweet kisses along your shoulder. He takes both breasts in his hands, gently massaging them as you lay your head back on his shoulder. "Pretty girl. All for me."

You hook your fingers into his pocket, pulling his hips against your rear. "Hey! Alright, alright, I get it! Heh, just can't wait for me can you baby?"

He kneels and pulls your pants down, admiring your legs and rear. "Turn for me, baby." He brushes his thumbs over your stomach as he holds your sides. You feel his lips against the skin above your panties. His teal eyes stare up at you through white bangs.

His fingers hook into the waistband of your only covering. "May I?" A blush tints your cheeks as you feel yourself growing shy. "Yeah, go ahead." You swallow it down because you know he's safe. He's so sweet and respectful, and you don't want your shyness to stop him.

You allow him to look at you unimpeded. He swallows, eyes dilated, he thinks you're gorgeous. He looks back up at you, kissing your thigh. "Like an angel. My angel." Standing he pulls you in for another passionate kiss, tongues dancing as he lays you back on the bed.

You feel his clothed knee between your legs as he leans over you. His lips kiss across your cheek and down your neck, leaving a few more marks as he continues down. A startled sound leaps from your mouth as you feel his teeth on your breast next to your sternum. He bites down just enough to leave teeth marks in your skin.

He moves down your body, placing kisses, hickeys, and bites all over you. You can feel yourself leaking already with how aroused you are. He kneels on the floor, placing your legs over his shoulders. Lips kiss your inner thighs, and you can feel how hot your face is getting. You reach for the pillow and stuff it under your head so you can look at him without straining your neck.

You let out a breath when he touches your folds with his lightly calloused fingers. He spreads you open, kissing down your thighs and giving you a single fat lick over your flower. The entire time, his teal eyes are locked with yours.

He licks his lips, committing your taste to memory. It's salty but not overly so, and mucusy not like how it's portrayed in fiction. There's also a barely noticeable acidic tinge along with a feint taste of iron left from your cycle. He realizes he likes it a lot.

-------

You moan out his name when he starts practically devouring you, hands gripping his hair and the sheets under you. His inhumanly strong arms lock around your legs as your muscles involuntarily jolt, tightening your thighs on his head. You can feel his tongue inside you, cleaning your leaking arousal as your core twitches.

Heart racing and chest heaving you try your best to watch him. You let your voice free so he can hear just how much you're enjoying this. Moans and whimpers of his name float into his ears.

"So-so good, AH! Dante!"

You can feel the coil getting tighter as he laps at you and swirls his tongue around your pearl. Back arching, he pushes your hips back down with a growl. The vibration nearly pushing you over the edge.

"Mmh do... do that... again!"

It takes him a second to understand your meaning. Grinning against you, he lets out a downright feral growl. Your thighs tighten like a vice around his head as you explode in his mouth. He greedily drinks from you as your core clenches.

Your body clenches, back arching against the hand on your stomach as he moans and mumbles incoherently against you. He eats you through your high, leaving you twitching and sensitive. That was probably one of the strongest orgasms you've had in a long time. He sits back on his haunches, licking his lips clean as he watches you catch your breath.

-------

When you let out a sigh, he takes it as a sign that you're recovered enough. He wants to do that again.

This time, he lays on the bed with his head close to the headboard. "Cmon, sit up here for me, baby." He pats the space on either side of his head. As you follow his lead, you notice the glistening slick still on his chin.

Straddling his head, you feel his hands on your thighs. You slowly sit your weight down on him, feeling his lips against you again. He sucks your pearl into his mouth, making your hips jolt as you let out a loud moan.

He closes his eyes, concentrating on you, how you rock against his mouth. He moans into you, clearly enjoying having you like this as he places kisses against your twitching entrance. You can feel your legs starting to shake as you try not to crush him completely.

When he takes in your pearl again, swirling his tongue around it and humming against you, your legs give out. Your core clenches as your hips buck, body tensing in a silent scream. Your knuckles go white on the headboard as your release washes over you.

Dante cleans you once more, trying to get every last drop. Both of you heave in breaths as you try to slow your racing hearts. Legs shaking you slowly lift off of him. His teal eyes look up at yours as he gives you a cocky, satisfied grin. His face is glistening with your slick.

"Let me rest a bit, honey. I definitely don't have your enhanced stamina." He wipes his face with the back of his hand, licking it clean like a cat.

"No worries, baby. And if you're too tired to keep going, we can just go to sleep. I'm down for whatever." You grip his chin, pulling him in for a kiss, tasting yourself on his lips.

-------

He can feel the aching strain in his jeans as he unbuttoned and unzipped them. That made it a bit better, but not by much. When you pulled away from his lips, you gave him a sweet peck on the nose. "Let's keep going darlin'."

He gives you a peck on the lips before standing to take off the rest of his clothes. When he pops free of his underwear, you bite your lip. He's big but not unmanageable for you. He pulls the sidetable drawer, taking a condom from inside and slipping it on.

"Is it a bad time to mention I'm still a virgin?"

Your eyes widen startled at his sudden admission. "I mean, kinda. You sure you wanna do this with me?"

"Y/n, I love you. There's no one else I'd rather do this with."

Cupping his cheek, you kiss him. The joy and love you have for him pouring out. He settles between your legs, gently rocking his hips as your slick lubricates him. He holds the back of your head, placing his forhead against yours as he slowly presses into you.

You both let out moans as his tip sinks into you. As you look at him, his eyes roll back in pleasure, and he shakily huffs through his lips. He can't help but want more as he pushes a bit farther.

*Holy hell, she's so tight! And so f***ing warm and soft!*

He grips the back of your neck and your hip as he hilts himself in you. You both have to take a moment to adjust to the sensation.

He seems to fill you just right as you wrap your legs around his waist. You feel his hips pull away from yours, his length dragging along your walls. When he plunges back in, starting up a rhythm, you feel your walls fluttering around him.

Your nails grip his shoulders as he picks up the pace, moans and mewls of his name floating into his ears. "Ah! Dante harder!" He grunts, snapping his hips with more force making the bed creak.

He pants in your ear, and you don't think you'll last very long. His hands moved to your back and rear, trying to pull you even closer. "Heh, I'm already so close, baby. Are you?"

You nod into his shoulder. "Squeezing me so tight... trying not to totally rail you right now." He feels your walls clench even tighter at that.

"Please, Dante... do it!"

"I'm not gonna tell you no." He changes your position, hooking his arms under your knees and folding you. "Last chance to back out, baby."

"Pl-please darlin'."

"Alright, whatever you want, baby." He passionately kisses you as he pushes his weight down on you. His hips start moving again, but this time much harder and faster. You let out wails of pleasure as he plunges into you even deeper than before.

"So good for me, baby!"

You wail as the pleasure courses through your body with each thrust. Just a little more, you can feel the coil threatening to snap. Your nails dig into his skin, drawing blood as you hold on for dear life.

"I love you, y/n!" He hilts inside you, snarling as your coil finally snaps. You feel the waves of pleasure run through your nerves as your body tenses. Heat spills inside you as he gives short firm thrusts through his release.

You both gulp in air for a few moments as you feel each other twitching in aftershocks. He drops your legs back to the mattress and collapses atop you, all sweaty and hot.

Sleep hits you like a truck as you attempt to play with his hair. "I... love you too... yawn Dante. "

-------

As he rests against your chest, he listens to your slowing heartbeat. He wouldn't care if he was here forever. In fact, he'd prefer it to always hunting demons. He was quick to follow your lead, drifting off to a peaceful sleep.

[mattiesgf]

scribbles - m.r x reader - ch3

(this is a series, all ch's linked here !)

summary - dash&lily!au, mattheo and reader communicate through a book. this chapter is they get just a little bit closer.

word count - above 2k

a/n - a bit more than just dares this ch, sorryyyy for the wait omg

The library was quieter than usual, with the soft scratch of quills and the distant rustle of pages filling the air. You glanced over your shoulder, making sure Madame Pince wasn’t lurking around a corner. The journal was tucked under your arm, the edges slightly bent from how often it had been passed between you and ‘Mystery Guy’.

You slid into the Literature section, your feet making no sound on the old wooden floor, and crouched down to the spot where “A Farewell to Arms” used to sit. Your fingers brushed the spine of the journal as you placed it in its hiding place.

“Interesting book you’ve got there,” a voice drawled behind you, startling you so badly you nearly knocked over an entire row of books.

You turned sharply, clutching the journal to your chest, and came face to face with Lorenzo Berkshire.

“Oh, don’t stop on my account,” he grinned, leaning lazily against the bookshelf. His curly brown hair was as messy as ever, and there was a glint of mischief in his dark eyes. “Go on. Tuck it back into its little hiding spot.”

Your mouth opened, closed, then opened again, but no words came out.

“Don’t look so guilty,” another voice chimed in, and now Theodore Nott rounded the corner, his hands in his pockets and an amused expression on his face. “We’re not going to snitch. Just curious.”

You straightened up, narrowing your eyes. “Curious about what?”

Enzo gestured toward the journal still clutched in your hands. “About the fact that you’re Mattheo’s penpal.”

Your heart nearly stopped. “I’m what?”

“Oh, come on.” Theo smirked. “We’ve seen that thing before. Mattheo thinks he’s sneaky, but he’s not that sneaky.”

“And you’re here, putting it in the exact spot he’s been disappearing to for weeks,” Enzo added, tilting his head. “Not a hard puzzle to put together.”

Your brain felt like it was short-circuiting. You weren’t sure what was worse—the fact that you’d been caught, or the fact that they’d just casually told you who Mystery Guy was like it wasn’t a massive bombshell.

“I—uh—”

Enzo cut you off with a wicked grin. “Relax, it’s cute. The way you’ve got him running around doing all your dares? Hilarious. You’ve got no idea how grumpy he gets when you out-dare him. It’s practically a sport now.”

You felt heat rise to your cheeks. “He’s not that grumpy,” you muttered defensively.

“Oh, trust me, he is,” Theo said dryly. “But he loves it. Never seen him so invested in anything that didn’t involve pissing off Snape or sneaking Firewhiskey into the dorms.”

You swallowed hard, trying to process. They were just standing there, talking about him like it was normal, while you were spiraling at the revelation. Mattheo Riddle. Mystery Guy was Mattheo Riddle. Mattheo Riddle. Mattheo Riddle.

And now you knew.

 “I’ve got to go,” you said quickly, shoving the journal back into its spot and brushing past them before they could say anything else.

By the time you got back to your dorm, your heart was still racing. You sat on the edge of your bed, staring at the blank page of your notebook. What were you supposed to say to him now?

After what felt like an eternity, you finally picked up your quill.

To Mystery Guy (or should i say Mattheo?), So, funny thing happened. I might’ve run into a couple of your friends. They were nice enough to tell me who you are. (Don’t freak out—your secret’s safe with me. For now.)

Let me just say, you’re… not what I expected. But maybe that’s a good thing. You’re kind of an enigma, and I think I like it that way.

Yours, The Penpal Who Knows Too Much

Satisfied, you tucked the letter into the journal the next morning, placing it in its usual spot. And as you walked away, you couldn’t help but smile.

Mattheo Riddle had no idea what he was in for.

𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐨'𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐯 

Mattheo leaned back in his chair, one boot propped on the edge of the Slytherin common room table. His wand twirled lazily between his fingers, but his sharp gaze flicked toward Lorenzo and Theo as they strolled in, their expressions a little too smug for his liking.

“What’s with the looks?” he asked, raising a brow.

“Oh, nothing,” Enzo said, plopping down on the couch across from him with a theatrical sigh.

“Definitely nothing,” Theo added, his lips twitching as he sat beside Enzo.

Mattheo’s eyes narrowed. “You’re lying. You both look like you’ve got something to say, so just spit it out.”

Enzo exchanged a glance with Theo, his grin widening. “Well, since you’re so curious… we saw her.”

Mattheo’s wand stilled mid-spin. “Her who?”

Theo leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You know who.”

“I really don’t,” Mattheo said flatly, though his stomach flipped. He kept his expression neutral, refusing to give them the satisfaction of seeing him squirm.

“Your penpal,” Enzo said, dragging out the word like it was some kind of joke.

Mattheo sat up straighter, his casual demeanor slipping. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh, come on,” Enzo said, waving a hand. “Don’t act like you’re not dying to know who she is. We saw her in the library yesterday.”

Mattheo’s heart skipped a beat, but he forced himself to scoff. “Yeah, sure. And I’m supposed to believe you just happened to run into her?”

“We didn’t just run into her,” Theo said, smirking. “We watched her put your precious little journal back in its spot.”

Mattheo’s jaw tightened. “You watched her?”

“Relax, mate,” Enzo said, holding up his hands. “It wasn’t creepy. We were just… observing.”

Mattheo narrowed his eyes, his voice dropping. “What does she look like?”

Enzo grinned, clearly enjoying this way too much. “Why? Getting jealous already?”

Mattheo glared at him. “Answer the question.”

“She’s… cute,” Theo said with a shrug, his tone deliberately nonchalant.

“More than cute,” Enzo added with a wicked grin. “You’ve got good taste, Riddle.”

Mattheo’s grip on his wand tightened. He tried to ignore the flicker of jealousy curling in his chest. “That’s not what I asked.”

“Oh, come on,” Enzo said, leaning back and kicking his feet up on the coffee table. “We’re just saying. She looked… surprised, though. Probably didn’t expect us to figure it out.”

Mattheo’s mind raced. If they’d seen her, that meant she now knew they’d made the connection. Did she know that he didn’t know who she was?

“Did you talk to her?” he asked, his voice quieter now.

Enzo’s grin turned devious. “A little. Not much. But enough to see why you’re so into this whole letter thing.”

Mattheo clenched his jaw. “I’m not ‘into’ it.”

“Oh, really?” Theo drawled, raising a brow. “Then why do you get all moody whenever she takes too long to write back?”

“Shut up,” Mattheo snapped, but his tone lacked heat.

“Admit it,” Enzo said, leaning forward. “You like her. And now that we’ve seen her, we get it.”

Mattheo didn’t respond, his thoughts too tangled. All he could think about was the fact that they’d seen her—that they knew who she was, and he didn’t.

For the first time in his life, Mattheo Riddle hated being in the dark.

Later that evening, Mattheo sat alone in his dorm, staring at the journal in his hands. The last note she’d written replayed in his mind, her teasing tone now carrying a weight he hadn’t noticed before.

“Funny thing happened. I might’ve run into a couple of your friends. They were nice enough to tell me who you are.”

She knew. And she wasn’t going to tell him.

Mattheo’s lips twitched, half a grin and half a grimace. “Alright, mystery girl,” he muttered. “You win this round.”

The next day, Mattheo couldn’t focus on anything. Potions class, which usually held his attention (mainly because he could annoy Snape just enough to avoid detention), passed in a blur. His mind was stuck on her—on who she was.

And on the fact that Enzo and Theo were being maddeningly smug about it.

“Mate, you’re going to chop your own finger off if you keep cutting like that,” Theo muttered under his breath as he passed Mattheo’s table, dropping a few flobberworms into his cauldron.

Mattheo blinked down at the violently uneven roots he’d been dicing. “It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine,” Enzo chimed in from his station, grinning like the absolute menace he was. “But hey, if you’re distracted, we all know why.”

“Enzo,” Mattheo said in a low warning tone.

“What? I didn’t say anything!” Enzo raised his hands in mock innocence, but his smirk stayed firmly in place.

Snape’s voice sliced through the air. “Riddle, Berkshire—perhaps you’d like to share what’s so amusing with the rest of the class?”

“No, sir,” Mattheo and Enzo said in unison, though Enzo’s grin widened, and Mattheo felt the urge to smack him.

Snape’s glare lingered on them for a beat longer before he turned back to his lecture. Mattheo shot Enzo a warning glance, but Enzo only winked at him.

By the time the class ended, Mattheo was wound tight with irritation and curiosity. As the students began packing up their things, he grabbed Enzo by the sleeve, dragging him into a quieter corner of the dungeon hallway. Theo followed, clearly eager to see how this would unfold.

“Alright, you two,” Mattheo said, his voice low and sharp. “I’m done playing games. Who is she?”

“Who’s who?” Enzo asked, though his grin gave him away.

“You know who,” Mattheo snapped. “Don’t make me hex you.”

Theo leaned casually against the wall, arms crossed. “You know, this is really entertaining for us. You, all worked up over a girl? Never thought I’d see the day.”

Mattheo glared at him. “I’m serious.”

Enzo sighed dramatically, like he was being forced to give up some great secret. “Look, Riddle, I could tell you who she is, but… where’s the fun in that?”

“Enzo,” Mattheo growled.

“Relax,” Enzo said, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “You’ll figure it out. Or, who knows? Maybe she’ll tell you herself—if you don’t scare her off first with all this brooding.”

“I’m not brooding,” Mattheo muttered, shoving Enzo’s hand off his shoulder.

“Sure you’re not,” Theo said with a smirk.

Mattheo ran a hand through his hair, his frustration mounting. “I hate both of you.”

“No, you don’t,” Enzo said cheerfully, slinging an arm around Theo as they started walking down the corridor. “Besides, you should be thanking us. If it weren’t for us, you’d still be writing to your mystery girl without a clue she’s real.”

Mattheo stayed rooted in place, watching them go, his jaw clenched. He hated how smug they were. Hated how much they seemed to know.

But more than anything, he hated the fact that they were right.

She was real. And now he couldn’t stop thinking about her.

That evening, back in the Slytherin common room, Mattheo sat by the fireplace with the journal in his lap. His pen hovered over the page as he debated what to write.

Finally, he scrawled a message, keeping his tone light even though his heart wasn’t.

“So, I hear you’ve met some of my friends. I can only imagine what they told you. Care to share?”

He hesitated for a moment, then added:

“Also, you’re cruel for knowing who I am while I’m still in the dark. Just so you know.”

He leaned back, tapping the pen against his knee as he reread the words. Then he smirked to himself.

“But if you’re planning to keep me guessing, at least tell me this—was I what you expected?”

Satisfied, he closed the journal and set it aside, his thoughts buzzing with anticipation.

Because no matter how this game played out, Mattheo knew one thing for certain.

He had to know her.

The journal was back in Mattheo’s hands the next morning, its weight heavier than usual as he tucked it under his arm and made his way to the Slytherin common room. He flopped down onto one of the worn leather couches, ignoring the chatter of his housemates, and cracked it open to her reply.

He scanned her words quickly, his brows furrowing and a smirk tugging at his lips all at once.

"That was actually the point, to not being able to judge who's writing, to kind of be able to connect, you know? So, no, I didn’t have an expectation, but fucking hell, I definitely didn’t think it’d be, like, you.

But, I don’t think it changes anything, honestly, just a little bit hard to believe the guy that punched a bloke last ball actually has a personality more than 'bad boy.'

Anddd, I mean, yeah, kind of wrong you don’t know me yet? Well, I think we’re in most classes together, maybe guess? No asking your little spies, btw."

Mattheo let out a groan that was half amusement, half frustration as he snapped the journal shut. "In most classes together," she said. Merlin’s bloody beard, that didn’t narrow it down at all.

Across the common room, Theo and Enzo lounged near the fireplace, their eyes on him like a pair of smug cats.

"You look stressed, mate," Theo drawled, flipping a page of his Potions textbook.

"Aw, he’s just lovesick," Enzo said with a grin.

Mattheo shot them both a glare. "This is your fault."

"Our fault?" Enzo repeated, mock-offended. "We gave you a perfectly good clue. You’re the one failing to connect the dots."

"You know who she is," Mattheo accused, pointing a finger at them. "You could just tell me."

Theo smirked. "Where’s the fun in that?"

Mattheo scowled, but Enzo cut him off before he could argue.

"Look, mate, why don’t you do what normal people do? You know, talk to the girls in your classes. Get to know them. Maybe you’ll figure it out."

Mattheo groaned, dragging a hand down his face. The last thing he wanted was to parade around Hogwarts like some kind of lost puppy. But the alternative was sitting here, waiting for her to reveal herself, and his pride wouldn’t let that happen.

By lunchtime, the plan—or lack thereof—was in motion. And by motion, it meant that Mattheo was, for the first time in his life, initiating small talk.

*

“Hey, do you happen to sit near me in Herbology?” he asked a Ravenclaw girl as they left the greenhouses.

She blinked, surprised. “Uh, yeah? Why?”

“No reason,” he said, flashing a grin before walking away.

Later, in Charms, he turned to a Gryffindor girl who sat a row behind him. “Do you take Ancient Runes?”

“I... do?” she replied, her confusion evident.

“Cool,” Mattheo said, leaning back in his seat like it was a perfectly normal question.

By the end of the day, word had spread that Mattheo Riddle—the brooding, sharp-tongued Slytherin—had been seen chatting up half the girls in their year.

And, of course, it wasn’t long before Theo and Enzo caught wind of it.

“Small talk, Riddle?” Enzo teased that evening, flopping down onto the couch beside him. “Who knew you had it in you?”

Theo joined in, smirking as he leaned against the armrest. “You know, I heard from a Gryffindor girl that you asked her about Ancient Runes. Ancient Runes, Mattheo. Really?”

Mattheo groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m going to hex both of you.”

“Come on,” Enzo said, throwing an arm around his shoulders. “Admit it—you’re enjoying this just a little. Chasing her, figuring her out. It’s all very romantic.”

“It’s fucking annoying,” Mattheo muttered, though the corner of his mouth twitched upward despite himself.

“You’re so whipped,” Theo said with a grin.

“Shut up,” Mattheo shot back, but his tone lacked bite.

As much as he hated to admit it, there was something about her—about the way she kept him guessing, kept him intrigued—that he couldn’t get enough of.

And if he had to endure a little humiliation to figure out who she was?

Well, maybe it was worth it. Because, since he got to hogwarts, someone didn’t give a fuck that he was Mattheo, just was Mattheo. That felt good, more than good.

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐯

The journal was back in her hands later that evening, and when she opened it, his reply was waiting for her:

*“First of all, punching a bloke was entirely necessary at the time. I don’t make the rules.

Second of all, ‘most classes together’ isn’t helpful, and you know it. You’re cruel, and I’m starting to think you’re enjoying this way too much.

Third, I’m working on it. But I’m warning you—when I figure out who you are, you’re going to regret keeping me in the dark. Just wait.”*

And beneath it, in smaller, messier handwriting:

“P.S. I don’t think it changes anything either.”

hiiii omg, okay so yep, ch3 took a while because school killed me, but i'm back !! i moved past the dares lol, and the tag list is open so lemme know !! mwahh, - reyy

[beegomess]

Dark Paradise || Theodore Nott

Don't forget to watch the previous chapters

Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated🫶🏼

11. Hints of jealousy

The joy of the younger students in returning from the small vacation was genuine, children ran the corridors and received curses from Snape, but they cared little about the grumpy teacher.

Y/N smiled when she saw the happiness radiate from the first Slytherians, she remembered when she was at that end of the table, looking with curiosity at the ceiling of the great hall. Nostalgia was invigorating at times, a hint of hope that his house had a little nicer students a few years ahead, who knows. One of the little girls noticed her looking and threw a shy little smile reciprocated by Y/N.

Theodore was in a good mood, something that hadn't been seen in a while. Berkshire's tireless attacks with the girl they were both in love with prevented him from having a completely good week. However, the event of last night made him behave as if his life was perfect now.

Y/N did not avoid the boy, but also did not look to him to talk about what happened, she, in fact, thought it was better that way at the time. In the transfiguration class, for example, they sat together, and both were afraid of the embarrassing silence happening, but it did not occur, they talked normally about the subjects of the class and other subjects not related to them.

However, of course, neither of them noticed the curious looks of Pansy and Mattheo. Although Riddle found the intimate piece in Daphne's kitchen, he and Pansy were not sure if what they had imagined had really happened, that is, there was still speculation between the two friends.

Later that day, the three slytherin friends were studying in the library, or at least that was the initial plan. They started looking for books and ended up gossiping about the latest events in their lives and at school.

- What's between you and Blaise, anyway? - Daphne was curious, but Y/N paid attention to Pansy, waiting for her answer. The brunette sighed, a little discouraged.

- Ah, I don't know yet. - Y/N and Daphne had their foreheads frowned in confusion, waiting for the explanation. - I like him on some level, but it seems like something so superficial. - Pansy paused, making sure no one was listening. - A few weeks ago we... Well, you know, but we haven't talked about it since then. Everything seems so confusing.

- Maybe it's a good time to confront him, don't you think? - Daphne asks.

- Well, I don't think so. I'm still not sure what I feel is really some feeling or just need. - She sighed again, but the discouragement quickly turned into a little smile. - This is not the case of Theo, for example, who lives in sighs when you are around. - Y/N did not expect it, just like Daphne, who hid a low smile with her hand.

- Don't exaggerate, Pans. - Y/N said a little awkwardly, looking at the book again, in an attempt to study. - Let's go back to transfiguration, better that way.

- And of course, Enzo seems to be the same way. - Parkinson ignored what she said and continued.

- Y/N definitely has all kinds of boys at your disposal. - Daphne plays and Y/N looks at her with irritation.

- Ah, that's a fact. - Pansy confirms.

- If you want to talk about it, let's go. Explain better what you mean Daph. - The girl surrenders, knowing that the more she denied, the longer it would take for that provocation to end.

- Well, let's start with the kind of shy and handsome boy, this one for sure is Nott. - Daphne starts and Pansy immediately agrees with all the description that would follow. - He attracts more girls than he seems, the charm also helps a lot.

- And did you just think about him? - Y/N asks with a convinced smile, thinking that the friend had ended up there.

- No way! Let me continue. - This time, Greengrass had a confident face. - There's also the well-known problem boy... - before she finished the sentence, Pansy and Y/N guessed it.

- Pucey. - They say in unison, laughing after that.

- But he doesn't count, he's not in love with me.

- He's in love with something you have, so he certainly counts. - Pansy said with a malicious tone. - Daphne, keep going.

- There's the clumsy guy, so clumsy that it can be seen as cute, this one is certainly Weasley. - Pansy makes a disgusting face and Y/N rolled her eyes in reaction to Parkinson's way, but kept listening. - And last, and the best in my opinion. Lorenzo Berkshire, beautiful, shy in the right measure, kind and so passionate. - Daphne seemed to die of love for the boy, even if she didn't know him so well.

- You could feel the friction between him and Nott this last weekend. - Pansy said and Y/N just sighs.

- Okay, now we can close the small acta about my personal life? - Y/N smile nervously, hoping that the subject would end at once.

The subject is not over, Daphne and Pansy continued to expose their opinions about Berkshire and Nott, but now they looked like tietes, while Pansy defended her friend Slytherin, Daphne said how much Berkshire was the love of Y/N's life since her childhood.

What did Y/N do in the meantime? She simply kept studying, from time to time, laughing at the arguments of the two friends about who was best for her.

[...]

Now, sitting in the stands, the three friends were talking quietly, completely inattentive to the quiditch match that took place between Sonserina and Lufa-Lufa.

Draco begged his sister to go see him, since Y/N did not use to go to these games normally, but she would make an exception for a brother's appeal. His presence there was a certain surprise to a few people, one of them was the lufana Laila, who had a great disaffection for Malfoy.

- It's pathetic how she cheers against her own house just for a boy. - Y/N thought loudly, drawing the attention of Mattheo, who sat next to her right.

- You're just jealous. - Riddle replied with a silly face, Y/N just rolled his eyes at his friend, ignoring anything he said. For Mattheo, the fact that she didn't even try to deny it made something quite clear to him.

Y/N decided to simply ignore Mattheo's comments about her or Laila's looks on the Slytherin side of the bleachers. The trio of girls began to accompany Draco, approaching the golden key a few times, but always being hit by Diggory, which made them anxious and more attentive to the game.

Some time passed, and Diggory got tired little by little, having difficulty following the blonde behind the small object. And finally, allowing Draco to finally reach the golden keb, ending the game with the Slytherin victory being announced all over the field. Amid the jumps of the students, Astoria approached Y/N, pulling her to speak in her ear.

- Aren't you going to see Draco? - Y/N laughed at the time, already understanding what she wants. It was common for girlfriends to wait for the players at the exit of the fields.

- You can go if you want, I'm sure he'll love to see you. - Astoria denied it with her head and insisted with a puppy face for her to accompany her. Y/N had no choice and went down the stairs towards the exit of the quidball field following Astoria.

- Y/N? - Draco had other colleagues around him congratulating him, the smile was wide and his face was surprised when he saw Y/N there.

- You'll understand. - Y/N said a few seconds before Astoria appeared behind her. Shyly, the girl approached Malfoy saying something that made him smile. Y/N just smiled, proud of the scene. It was cute how she had worried about him a few nights ago.

Theodore appeared coming from the field, and his eyes lit up, seeing that Y/N was there. He was going to talk to her when he was overtaken by someone who only identified it when he heard the annoying voice.

- Wow, love, you didn't have to come here to see me so soon. - Pucey spoke loudly making everyone listen. The boy had a malicious smile on his face and directed himself to Y/N, who rolled his eyes.

- It's not normal for people to dream awake, Pucey. You should treat yourself. - She responds in the same tone, laughing at the other Slytherins who were around. Y/N looked forward to Astoria who kept talking to her brother.

- It can be a reality if you want. - Adrian was closer, and now only he and Y/N heard each other. Y/N had a light laugh at the boy's proposal.

- Certainly not, thank you. - She also replied with a smile as if it were obvious, but Adrian pretended to be offense and continued.

- Well, we understand each other very well in most of the things a couple usually does. I only see advantages, dear. - He had his usual scaldy face again while moving a lock of Y/N's hair away from behind his ear, looking shamelessly at her mouth.

Y/N just moves away and calls Astoria, who quickly accompanies her out of the environment, but before they totally leave, Adrian screams again.

- Think about what I told you, Y/N. - The girl just laughs while denying with her head, disappearing from the place.

Theodore, who watched everything from where he was, saw only Adrian flirting with Y/N while she smiled. During the shower, Nott was mulling in curiosity to know what Pucey was saying to her that made her smile.

The good mood of having won the game definitely went away at the moment when the other Slytherine surpassed him in talking to the girl that day earlier.

_______________________________

A/N: Guys, tell me what you think of this fic, I'm curious to know! I saw that some people are following all the chapters of it and I would like to know

xoxo, bee🫶🏼✨

next chapter>>>

[innocentcurse]

Walking through the picturesque streets of Cardinal Hill, you find Enzo Espinoza, the 49 year old videographer & photographer, originally from Santiago, Chile. Living alongside them in such a small town, you know that they're concerned and inconsistent, but what you might not know is that they are a human, and that they’re hiding something… ― Pedro Pascal, bisexual, man, and he/him.

Content warnings - parental death mention.

Basics -

Full name: Enzo Tomas Rojas Espinoza

Nickname/s: None currently

Preferred name/s: Enzo

Gender: Man

Pronouns: He/him

Age: Forty-nine

Birthday: February 14th

Zodiac: Capricorn

Magic status: Non-magical, a human

Sexuality: Bisexual

Relationship status: Single

Occupation: Videographer & photographer

Hometown: Santiago, Chile

Backstory -

Enzo doesn't believe that there was anything remarkable about his upbringing.

He was never the popular kid in school, but he wasn't completely alone either, having few close friends who helped him get by.

Following his father's death, Enzo, his three siblings, and his mother all moved to North Dakota.

The move was inspired by his mother's grief, and her want to be near her own family who had almost all made the move to various places in the states.

In all honesty, Enzo started to feel incredibly lost. He was only 16 at the time of his father's passing, and the big move, and it felt like the worst time for such overwhelming changes.

Eventually, Enzo began to find himself in art. Having grown up an avid fan of films, Enzo began to explore videography himself, first by simply deciding to record his family's move from one town to another, and then in every other way he could ever think of.

Videography was soon joined by photography, and before he knew it, Enzo was as good as attached to his camera.

The family continued to move around for quite some time, often struggling with money, but always making it work together. Still to this day, a lot of them are on the move, finding new adventures all over the world.

As soon as he could, Enzo began working, though it took him some time to land a job that he actually cared for. He went through a lot of odd, and often strange jobs, always wishing to do something to do with photography or film instead.

Selling a few interesting photographs to the local newspaper in his early adulthood later became teaching photography at an esteemed art school in Minneapolis. Years of networking, practicing, applying, and skill building finally got him there in his thirties.

Enzo was a professor for over ten years, though his position at the university came to an end on less than great terms. Many rumours spiralled out of control, and while some were true, Enzo only ever brushes it off with no explanation.

With the intention of finding other work, Enzo stayed in Minneapolis, until he made the abrupt move all the way to Cardinal Hill, Washington.

While he'd moved to a lot of places for no reason, this time, he did have a reason, and this time, he chose the location based on raving reviews that came from a sibling in the town.

He's been in Cardinal Hill for two years now; while he's settled in, and makes a decent wage with his freelance work, he's still working on socialising outside of his family, clearly cagey for some reason...

Personality & more -

Despite being cagey, Enzo is actually quite whimsical, having an incredible creative eye and an ability to story tell like no other. He's not a big talker, but he's certainly not grumpy unless given reason to be.

He's close with his family, even despite a lot of them frequently being on the move, and away from each other. He lived through so many adventures with them all, and he loves them dearly. His phone bill is often expensive.

He's never found without some sort of camera in his hand, and by this time, his collection is quite unnecessarily enormous. He's quite proud.

Enzo has always been a lover boy. He's never married, never had kids, but he's had a decent amount of long-term relationships. Despite this, he's had nothing serious in the past two years. He'd like to, however.

He's often hard to read. Most of his family and those closest to him have come to the conclusion that something might have happened in the past, but he's hidden it decently well. Most believe he's simply experienced a mid-life crisis.

[our-flag-means-yippee]

THESE ARE ALL THE MOST PROMINENT CHARACTERS OF WHAT ELSE WE DO IN THE SHADOWS!!! MOST ARE BASED OF ALREADY PRE-EXISTING OFMD CHARACTERS BUT THE REST ARE PURELY ORIGINAL!!!

What Else We Do In The Shadows is basically an autistic fever dream I came up with prior to Our Flag Means Death s2. It features original dumbasses that are heavily inspired by the dumbasses from Our Flag, and is set in the world of the original What We Do In The Shadows (I basically just added the word "Else" in there, lemme know if i should change it).

To get a general basis of the characters in this AU, think of Edward and Stede from Our Flag Means Death. Now think of Viago and Anton from What We Do In The Shadows. I basically just followed the same formula with the Revenge Crew.

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

Now, the characters:

Rod Rodriguez - Rod is the swapped version of Jim Jimenez (see what I did there?) Rod is, in the best way possible, too nice to be a 310 year old vampire. They are often naive in their choices and easily get overwhelmed when things don’t go as planned. They try to find the silver lining in situations, even though that phrase has gotten them in trouble a few times.

Enzo Abebe - Enzo is the swapped version of Oluwande Boodhari, a werewolf in his mid-30’s who has a hard time enjoying pretty much anything. He tries to fit into human society the most out of anyone, but the problem is that he hates people. Has no trouble getting into trouble if it means he gets something out of it, but regardless of being only a fraction of the vampires age, he harbors the most wisdom about trying to survive life.

Horace Balassa - Horace is the swapped version of Black Pete, a seven century (plus 1 year) old vampire who has been sick of everyone’s shit since day one. As a former plague doctor and retired prostitute, he knows a thing or two about “taking care of people”. He serves as the grumpy old man anchor to Rod’s perpetual optimism, and tries to have as much carnal enjoyment as possible. Despite his promiscuous lifestyle, he yearns for any romantic connection with someone.

Finley Jones - Finley is the swapped version of Lucius Spriggs, a werewolf in his early 30’s who not only doesn’t know jack shit, he’s never even heard of him. He’s a repressed former frat guy who tries to prove that he’s the alpha but fails. Miserably. Every time. I’m not even sure if his frontal lobe is even developed at his big age. He’s the oc I shit on the most because he is that fucking stupid but it’s just bc I love him.

Lionel Garnier - Lionel is the swapped version of Frenchie, an energy vampire who never shows any emotion. I’m gonna be upfront and this may get me cancelled, but he is the servant to Finley’s family. I know it sounds very bad at surface level BUT I PROMISE THAT THERE IS NUANCE AND A PURPOSE TO THIS. Many other characters point this out, and it’s shown to be problematic even in canon. While showing little emotion in his inflections, he provides the gangs snide comments about the bullshit they go through, and does his absolute most to drain their energy. But he’s also very loyal and protective of them, especially to Finley, whom he’s known for years.

Princey Fluffernutter - He’s the swapped version of Izzy Hands… I don’t think I can defend myself on this one. He’s a strigoi who is kinda like the Petyr of the group. He mostly lives in their basement and feeds off Rod and Horace’s leftovers. No one knows how old this guy is. Despite his mind mostly being lost to time, he still retains some consciousness and probably has the most common sense out of the entire gang, and is the most technologically advanced. Would most likely be depicted as an iPad kid in fan works.

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

So yeah, these are the main characters of my AU. I am currently in the middle of the fourth season and I plan on writing nine. Yeah.

This show at its core is a comedy that sometimes does deep dives on why my characters are the way they are, and challenge the status quo when it comes to the relationship between werewolves and vampires, and attempts to give more depth to the werewolf species of the wwdits universe.

It features an EXPLICITLY and UNASHAMEDLY queer cast of characters who learn how to go through life together as non-humans. Their identities don’t hinder on their arcs (except maybe one but only for a like a few episodes) and we get to see many different dynamics among the group ranging from friends, lovers, enemies, frenemies with benefits… and most important of all, family <3

All of the episodes are available on my ao3 (@our_flag_means_yippee) if you want to take a look! Just search up “What Else We Do In The Shadows” and you’ll be sure to find all seasons 1-4 on there!

Links to the seasons:

Season 1:

Season 2:

Season 3:

Season 4:

[rumblcs]

☆ﾟ.*・ ◞ zendaya coleman / demi-woman / biracial / she/they ——— is that beatrice 'tris' bennett on bourbon street ? the twenty-one/ twenty-two year old vampire who stay in the marigny/bywater ? i heard their biological parents are bonnie bennett & enzo st. john. they are notoriously known for being erudite & intuitive but also aggrieved & demoralized . which is probably why they are considered the despondant around town.  i wonder if they had their tarot cards reading, yet? either way, the cards on the table will reveal their fate soon enough //

stats !

full name: beatrice bennett. nicknames: tris. gender: demi woman. pronouns:  she/they. sexuality: pansexual. parents: bonnie bennett & enzo st. john. siblings: tbd. species: vampire. neighborhood: marigny/bywater occupation: currently unemployed. label: the despondent

lil bio ! ( death tw )

magic had always been one of the most important things in tris' life. her powers manifested when she was very young, their mother quickly becoming her teacher and saving grace. not much else really kept tris' attention as a young child aside from magic. learning about it, learning to control it, just absorbing everything. there was another part of her, not something they were ashamed about or anything, just something beatrice wished they could change. their vampire gene.

it wasn't that she had any ill will towards vampires, in fact one of her favorite people ever was a vampire, enzo. it was what would happen to them post transition. being ripped away from the magic she held so incredibly dear. the magic that was woven into their very being. so from maybe too young an age, tris had decided she would never complete her transition when the moment came. it wasn't something she had shared with her parents, or their siblings really. just something beatrice had declared to herself.

as she grew not only in age, but skill, beatrice was thankful to have bonnie to learn from. to have an incredibly powerful and skilled mentor and mother. tris had gone searching for other supernatural beings, wanting to connect on that level with a person other than her family. it wasn't too long until she'd fallen in love with a vampire. for a while they tried to deny their feelings, the vampire would live for an eternity while tris had absolutely no interest in living beyond losing their magic.

it didn't take long before she was unable to avoid the attraction between the pair and fell into a whirlwind romance. that was until one evening, one that they cannot quite remember. one that turned fatal. tris isn't exactly sure how she died, all they remember is waking up with blood flowing into their mouth, instincts and thirst kicking in before they realized what had happened. it was their partner's wrist, the partner who had been the only person tris had actually confided in about their wishes to die than become a vampire.

rage, sadness, grief, pain, completely devoured them. snapping partners neck and fleeing was tris' only option, they could no longer stand to be around someone who had utterly betrayed them. calling her parents in an absolute fit of panic, they had all decided it would be best for beatrice to spend time with enzo to get accustomed to their new life.

their attendance here in new orleans is to visit with their mother. to try and step back into the magical world without losing her mind completely. while as a child tris had been an eager, curious, bright, and happy young kid, their transition has all but changed them completely. a grumpy, disheartened demeanor and attitude left in it's place.

[onthepageauthorservicesllc]

Faking It with Mr. Grump: AN ENEMIES TO LOVERS SMALL TOWN ROMANCE Ashlyn Hyatt https://www.amazon.com/Faking-Mr-Grump-ENEMIES-ROMANCE-ebook/dp/B0CCJQWHCB/ref=sr_1_2 Come and join my readers group! https://www.facebook.com/groups/3608338166114457

This grumpy billionaire thinks he can waltz into my life and demand a fake marriage?

Not happening.

Prodigal son Enzo Rossi hasn’t shown his face here in more than a decade, while I’ve spent the last eleven years making his family’s vineyard a success.

Now he has the audacity to ask for my cooperation to claim his inheritance.

He’s relied on his good looks and fat wallet to charm his way into getting what he wants, but it’ll take more than a flashy smile and an Amex Black Card to tempt me.

At least, that’s what I keep telling myself.

In truth, I feel more drawn to him by the day, and the vineyard has bigger worries than Enzo taking over.

Could marrying Mr. Grump be the answer to all our problems?

[kinciskarma]

"It's still funny to think about." He had grown a lot more into his looks since he was a teenager. Finally able to grow facial hair and even though she couldn't see it, he had been working out for years now and had a sculpted body many women fawned over. But he wasn't going to brag about that. "How could you? You were a feisty little thing. And how could I forget the first girl who had an obsessive crush on me?" He joked with a playful smirk playing on his lips.

Once she agreed for a beer, Enzo called the bartender over and got them both a drink. Still with his attention on her, he didn't care to follow her gaze to where her friends were. They didn't matter. His sole focus was on her. Listening to her about her career and who she was marrying, Enzo slowly nodded his head. "Hey, that's still impressive. You're doing what you love and you're marrying someone who you've been with for a while. If anything, your life is better than mine. But congratulations on the garage, that's amazing. I'll make sure to bring my car to you the next time in breaks down." Thanking the bartender once their drinks arrived, Enzo picked up his bottle and took a sip of it before shaking his head at her question. "Do I come off as grumpy? But no. No wife, no children. I'm just single and enjoying life right now."

"I was a child back then." She said with a chuckle and a shake of her head. "But it's cute to know that I have apparently not left your mind after all those years." Lorna was quite a difficult girl growing up, yet somehow Enzo had always have a good influence on her. Maybe because she had always been crushing on him like crazy; but she always used to be calmer and nicer when he was around. One of the main reasons her parents kept him around for so long.

Lorna's eyes moved from the small groups of girls - either with men or just each other - on the dance floor and she nodded to Enzo. "A beer is okay." After all she was quite curious to find out what he did for a living now. At his story, Lorna shifted in a little closer and moved to sit upon one of the bar stools. "That's impressive, good for you." She spoke with a small nod. It made sense, though. Handsome men were a perfect fit to the suit and tie world. Lorna glanced away with a small chuckle as he returned the question and she shrugged slowly. "It's nothing much, actually. I mean, it's clearly not as fancy as your life." It wasn't like she was ashamed of her life but comparing to her, she was still the exact same Lorna as she was back then. Hotter, probably.

"I still live in the same neighborhood, I'm still obsessed with cars. Since two years I have my own garage, with three employees." Lorna nodded slowly. "I'm marrying Ben." Her first ever high school sweetheart, of who Enzo of course knew since they lived in the same neighborhood back then. She explained. "What about you? Wife, children? Or are you just a grumpy CEO." Lorna said smirking.

[chevvy-ryder]

Busted for attempt to steal private property (a car).

"This car deserves a new owner who is more caring about that beauty seeing nothin' but dust!" — Jaysen

—

[NC_RES]_00003027 racers_sarto_steyr_mugshots.file ///core:_baby_drivers.file\\\

—

Please do not repost any of my art. Enzo Sarto belongs to @gloryride. <3 mugshot poses & plate by Zink (amm discord). bomber jacket (Arizona) by @pinkyjulien

Since Glory came up with that Barbie and Ken meme to me — I had to do this mugshot theme a well. Both of us do have OCs who are (street) racers and what can I say? Pretty Enzolino here once lost his beautiful orange McLaren F1 and had to hand it over to Jay. Enzo without a good racing car? Impossible.

So despite of not liking Jay, he proceeds to ask him to lend Baby (the F1) for winning himself another car. Jay is all in ofc. ;P They actually liked their good teamwork on ripping Sampson his car off and thought it would be a good idea to give some other cars owned by various rich corpos a new owner as well. Too bad they got caught on their first try (team work needs to be learend still). No matter how bad it actually looks, Jaysen will know a way out. Being a highly skilled netrunner and a former NCPD officer might come in handy, so Enzolino has nothing to fear. ;P They will be out in no time!

I did a lot of post processing with these. Made the height table myself (quickly done via InDesign), also the text on the plates each of them is holding. I decided against placing their names and took my usual description onto them for ID. I added the date they got caught – looked up what usually is on such plates and majority had dates, so yeah, why not? Fun fact: I placed QR codes on them as well. xD If you would scan those you'll simply be lead to the tags with the ocs. That said they are scanable, but I think they won't be on tblr, since opening them in a new browser tab does show them in a smaller resolution than when I open them on my iMac. And ofc viewing with your phone gives not the option to scan either. I just wanted to do something different is all xD

And because I love close ups, have one of Jay and Enzo, too as a bonus:

[siriusly-parker]

—random lightning era headcanons, hp.

ʚ author’s note: these are MY personal headcanons. you don’t have to like them, but maybe you will. also- i KNOW mattheo and enzo are not even canon and that theo is hardly even mentioned but i thought it’d be cute to add them. mainly theo cause i love fanon theo (sometimes). ꜝꜞ

ron is super mega tall, taller than the twins. maybe even taller than bill.

harry is of average height but looks like a short king besides ron.

theo is basically a grumpy old man in the body of a teenage heartthrob.

blaise is just a sweetheart. fr the bestest friend.

draco can’t read in between the lines. he’s book smart but when it comes to people and social interactions he can be pretty stupid. you can’t just give him a hint, he won’t get it.

hermione actually really liked krum.

harry actually attended theo’s mother’s funeral. (they were on somewhat friendly terms after having to team up for an assignment.)

ginny likes girls. dean likes seamus. both knew.

draco, mattheo and enzo (along with crab and goyle) are more of the bullies of the group.

angelina and george are part of a tutoring program and tutor younger students. though he’s really good in potions, george only does it to spend time with her.

ron secretly tries to read muggle books to impress hermione.

mattheo is just plain rude with anger issues. he pretty much hates everyone.

theo is just more of an introvert so he doesn’t really feel the need to talk to everyone, let alone bully them.

blaise is not very smart but he really tries his best and studies a lot. he also reminds (or forces) the others to study as well.

in her firsts years at hogwarts, pansy was mostly a bitch and a bully (to impress malfoy), but blaise became a good influence and she learned to mind her own business a bit more.

ron had ALWAYS had a crush on hermione. he just didn’t want to.

neville had a secret girlfriend around year 3-4 and they’d always meet in the herbology greenhouse.

oliver suffers from insomnia which sometimes leads to him being rude during morning practices and even having anger outbursts towards his last hogwarts years.

fred is really really good with kids while george just doesn’t really know what to do with them.

cedric has dyslexia and really finds it difficult and discouraging to read and study. cho and harry are one of the few who know and help him with homework.

luna randomly takes walks in the forbidden forest. she finds it peaceful.

mattheo is naturally really smart. he never studies and always gets good grades. he’s kind of a dick about it.

seamus has ADHD and had a mild ODD as a child

cho is extremely interested in politics and even founded a secret debate club at hogwarts.

dean is the only one who knows about seamus’ breakdowns and the only one who truly knows how to help him.

angelina is really popular. there is nothing to hate about her. she is beautiful and kind and especially good at quidditch.

krum was really bummed out to leave hogwarts. he was actually liking it there. mainly the people. mainly hermione. just hermione tbh.

spending summer ‘94 with hermione was ginny’s gay awakening confirmation.

▾

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ok, ok, envision it, #4 taylor prompt:

steve harrington; i wish you would

congrats on reaching that milestone love! 🫶🏻💖

elizabeth!!!!

my apologies that it took me so long to get to your request 😭😭 i hope i was still able to do it justice and i hope you love it!!

"i wish you would" is one of my fave tracks off 1989 and im so ready for the rerecord of it!! it's also sooo steve harrington encoded -- i hope you like my twist of angsty fluffiness!!!

It was 2AM — too late of a time for either of you to be awake right now.

But Steve was on the other side of the door.

And you were also on the other side of the door.

Just an old wooden door separating the two of you but no one daring to make the first move and open it all because it came down to one thing—pride.

You and Steve had a hell of a lot of pride, which often led to stupid arguments over the dumbest things. Usually, the fight would resolve in a matter of minutes, if not maybe hours. Arguments never exceeded days or weeks—that was until now.

It was safe to say that outside your relationship, you each had lives consisting of managing a VHS store and yours filled with busy days at college completing a very stressful internship. The only time the two of you would get to kick back and relax is when you came home to each other. Spending the winding days in bed or lazily making dinner before falling asleep in each other arms on the couch.

Either way, it was both your and Steve’s preferred way of living.

That is until life got a bit too real and hectic, leading the two of you to spend less time together and more time on different schedules.

Family Video had incorporated a new tracking system which caused Steve to need to stay back later, trying to work through the stupid software so that the opening shift didn’t call him the next morning complaining about it not working.

Your internship was taking a toll on you mentally, requiring you to get up earlier than usual and head to campus in order to get work done before the day ended. Your colleague in the program had totally ghosted you, leaving you to pick up the slack when you weren’t quite sure how much of it you could carry alone.

By the time Steve got home, you were already asleep.

And by the time he woke up you were already gone.

The place you two shared didn’t even feel like a home anymore. Just simply a place where you two were in passing of each other before going off to live completely closed off lives. Suddenly, the energy just shifted, as if the two of you were now a crooked love with no idea where this was headed.

It was brutal for both of you, but of course it was always easier to blame each other instead of figuring out how to work past it. It didn’t help that the both of you were quick with your words, always biting back at one another with insults that neither of you really meant, just being used in the moment to deflect.

It blew up last week when you and Steve had both woken up late. The home phone blaring with calls from Family Video and Robin paging Steve every second. The alarm clock in your bedroom ringing sharply jolting the two of you awake.

Maybe it was the morning grumpiness combined with the exhaustion you two were facing, but either way it resulted in an early morning argument that was like a train running off the tracks.

“When’s the last time we even had dinner together?” You asked sharply as you combed your hair in the bathroom mirror.

Steve lifted his head after he spat out the toothpaste, glaring at you in the reflection. “It’s not my fault that by the time I get home you’re already passed out on the couch. What do you want me to do? Haul your half asleep body into the kitchen and force you to make spaghetti with me?”

You rolled your eyes, throwing your comb back into the drawers, slamming it shut as you walked away from him, though he was hot on your heels, still going on.

“Or wait do you want me to take you to Enzo’s so you can sleep in a booth while I eat never ending breadsticks?”

He watched you fling open the closet doors, grabbing a jacket and throwing it over your outfit, before you stared pointedly at him, “You’re such a fucking dick, Steven!”

“Oh, so I’m the dick now? How about the last time we had an actual conversation with each other that wasn’t just hi, hello, and bye?”

You brushed past him, bending to pick up your backpack and sling it over your shoulder. He reached into the closet, grabbing his vest and throwing it on before following you down the hallway and into the living room.

“Seems like we’re having one right now.” You muttered, grabbing your keys on the coffee table.

“Sure does,” He sighed, reaching for his own car keys.

That morning the two of you went your separate ways, starting off the day on a bad foot with nothing but hatred. But the two of you could never ever hate each other.

That wasn’t what your love was.

It was never formed from hate or thrived off of it.

It was supposed to be the kind that was always understanding and working together, but that was a standard that you knew you and Steve just weren’t capable of all the time.

The two of you were bringing less than a hundred percent to the table combined. There had to be some kind of compromise, a way for it to be settled, but of course, this was just something that was going to get dragged on until you both felt like putting your pride aside and taking the first step.

That fight was the catalyst that led the two of you here. Still standing on the other side of the door—your shared bedroom door that is.

For the past week, Steve was out on the couch while you occupied the bedroom. Not that you kicked him out or banned him from sleeping in bed with you, but you had gotten home the night after the fight and he was already home, knocked out asleep on the couch.

So you left him there, and since then that’s where he slept.

You couldn’t say you felt good about it because you didn’t. His back was probably all sorts of fucked up from cramming himself to sleep somewhat comfortably on that couch. And you had certainly missed his presence beside you in the middle of the night.

Steve didn’t know why he kicked himself out, probably just so you could both get some space and cool off, but he hadn’t meant for it to go on for this long. He missed kissing your forehead goodnight when he finally got home, and he certainly missed the way you’d do the same when you had to leave in the morning.

Right now, it just felt like a lot of yearning for one another because neither of you could remember what you were fighting for in the first place.

For pride?

For ego?

For what?

All you both wanted to do was just give each other the tightest hug and longest kiss because you missed each other that much.

You wanted to cry to him, to tell him that your stupid internship was driving you insane and all you really wanted was for him to hold you and tell you everything was going to be ok.

Steve wanted to vent to you over how stupid that damn tracking system was and how it was driving him up the walls and all he really needed right now was your encouragement to keep going.

He was probably asleep.

You were probably asleep.

Maybe it could wait until morning?

If either of you opened the door to see the other sleeping, it would just make you both want to turn back around and run from actually waking the other to apologize. It was best to just run back under the blankets and wait until you were both awake.

But honestly, the both of were just too exhausted and missing each other to even be mad anymore.

Fuck it…this couldn’t wait and neither of you was going to let it drag on.

“Baby,”

“Babe,”

The two of you stared at each other dumbfounded as if you were ghosts, but it didn’t last long as Steve quickly wrapped his arms around your back, pulling your body into his as you draped your arms around his neck, gluing yourself to him.

“I missed you.” You murmured into the juncture of his jaw and neck.

He could feel the heat of your breath fanning against his skin, a trickle of tears following suit only making him hold you tighter.

“I missed you more…and I’m sorry for being a dick.” He said, breathing in the smell of your hair and he whispered into it.

You sniffled, shaking your head the best you could in his hold, before he loosened, allowing you to look up at him through your watery eyes.

“I’m sorry too…I didn’t mean to take it out on you. I was just so stressed and I missed you too much to tell you how I was really feeling and I—”

He smiled softly at you, letting his thumb brush your tears away as he shook his head, “I did the same, baby. I just wished we didn’t solve it that morning…it would’ve prevented whatever the fuck happened last week.”

You laughed quietly, nodding your head in agreement. “I know. I wished we would have.”

“We can now.” Steve suggested, holding your face in your hands.

You smiled, sniffling once more before letting one of your hands rest on his cheek, “Yeah we can.”

Your lips finally connected after what seemed like a lifetime away. A reminder that while the love you and Steve shared wasn’t always picture perfect, it was certainly something that you both were always going to come back to.

You were each other’s person.

The other half you wanted to go to with all of life’s joys and upsets.

Together.

Sure, maybe you both pushed each other’s buttons way too easily, but it was the love that made the two of you come rushing back to each other.

Because when it mattered and came down to it, you and Steve could never live without each other — no matter the distance or even the stupid internship or job you each had.

Right here and right now, it was all good.

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