#i hate when i have simple thoughts and then they spiral into a self hate pit

[coolgrl111]

stalker !

fratboy!patrick zweig x reader

a/n: i haven’t written in sooo long but thinking of making a part two if u like it☺️

patrick never had to try. his life was effortless, a constant stream of wins. the hottest guy at every party, the one everyone gravitated toward. he was arrogant, untouchable—a king without a crown.

then he saw her.

she wasn’t loud, wasn’t trying to be noticed. she didn’t need to. the way she moved, unbothered and self-contained, drew him in like nothing ever had. she was wearing something simple, not flashy, but somehow it made her unforgettable. her laugh, barely audible over the thrum of music, wrapped itself around his chest and squeezed.

patrick didn’t approach her. for the first time, he hesitated. he just stood there, gripping a drink he didn’t want, feeling ridiculous. his usual smirk faltered as she glanced in his direction, her gaze skating past him without a second thought.

he left that party changed. the next morning, she was all he could think about. he scrolled through mutuals on socials, searching for a face he barely saw but couldn’t forget. when he found her, it was like a light turned on inside him. everything about her fascinated him.

he pieced her life together, detail by detail. her classes, her favorite coffee shop, the way she tied her hair up when she was deep in thought. he memorized the sound of her voice in the library, soft and determined as she spoke to classmates.

but that wasn’t enough. patrick needed more.

he started “bumping into” her. at the library, the coffee shop, even in hallways he had no reason to be near. “hey, haven’t i seen you in econ?” he lied, his voice calm while his heart pounded. when she looked up, smiled faintly, and said, “maybe,” he felt like he’d been struck by lightning.

the first conversation spiraled into more. brief, fleeting exchanges he orchestrated like a conductor guiding a symphony. she didn’t notice how often he was nearby, watching, memorizing every little thing about her.

at night, he stood outside her dorm, staring at the light in her window. he imagined her inside, maybe laughing at something on her laptop, maybe brushing her hair, and his chest ached with something he couldn’t name.

it wasn’t enough to talk to her. he wanted to be close to her, to touch the strands of hair that fell over her shoulder, to hear her laugh and know it was because of him.

patrick, who had always been so cool, so aloof, was unraveling. he wasn’t himself anymore. he was hers. entirely, obsessively, only hers.

patrick’s obsession only grew. he convinced himself it wasn’t strange, wasn’t wrong—he was just curious. she had something about her, something magnetic, something he needed.

he started lingering longer in her spaces. her favorite corner of the library became his, too. he’d sit a table away, pretending to study while his eyes traced the way her fingers danced across her notebook, her pen tapping in rhythm to thoughts he desperately wanted to know.

once, she dropped her scarf in the coffee shop, a soft knit thing that smelled faintly of her perfume. he picked it up, holding it longer than necessary before rushing to catch up and return it. when she thanked him, her smile light and easy, his stomach twisted into knots.

he started planting himself in her life, little by little. he joined her group for a project in class, claiming he didn’t have anyone else. when she agreed, he nearly stammered a thank-you—nearly.

being near her was intoxicating, but it wasn’t enough. patrick wanted to know her secrets, her fears, the kind of music she played when she was sad. so, he started keeping notes—small, scribbled observations in the back of a worn notebook. “she likes chamomile tea. hums when she’s alone. hates when people crack their knuckles.” it was a record of her existence, the only thing that made him feel sane in the chaos of wanting her.

then, one night, he followed her. he told himself it wasn’t stalking—just curiosity. he watched as she left the coffee shop, her earbuds in, her head tilted down against the cold. she walked quickly, unaware of him slipping from shadow to shadow behind her. when she unlocked her dorm, the click of the door sounded final.

patrick stood outside for a moment, the ache in his chest unbearable. he wanted to knock, to say something, to make her look at him the way he looked at her. but he didn’t. instead, he leaned against the wall, staring up at her window, his breath fogging in the cold air.

she had no idea how much space she took up in his mind. every corner of his thoughts was hers. he wondered if she even knew his name or if he was just another face in her periphery.

—

patrick didn’t plan it. or at least, he told himself that. it wasn’t like he meant to end up outside her dorm room again, standing in the dim hallway, the silence around him broken only by the hum of fluorescent lights.

but he was there, wasn’t he?

her door was cracked open, just barely. he could hear faint music playing—a soft, melancholic melody—and the sound of her voice humming along. his heart thundered in his chest as he inched closer, the weight of his steps swallowed by the worn carpet.

he pushed the door open slowly, quietly, his breath held tight. she was sitting on her bed, her back to him, illuminated by the warm glow of a bedside lamp. she was reading something, her knees tucked up to her chest, completely unaware.

he shouldn’t be here. he knew that. but the sight of her, so peaceful, so her, made it impossible to turn away.

patrick took another step, and the floor creaked beneath his weight.

she froze.

“hello?” her voice was cautious but steady. she turned her head slightly, just enough to catch his silhouette in the doorway.

his mind raced for an excuse, a reason to explain why he was here. “sorry,” he blurted, his voice low. “your door was open. i didn’t mean to… scare you.”

she stared at him, wide-eyed, clutching the book to her chest like it could protect her. “patrick?”

he nodded, trying to appear calm, casual, as if this were normal. “yeah. uh… i was just passing by. thought maybe you needed help with something?”

she frowned, her confusion evident. “at eleven at night?”

patrick’s pulse hammered. she wasn’t buying it.

“okay, okay,” he said, raising his hands in mock surrender. “i know this looks… weird. but i swear, i just wanted to check on you.”

“check on me?” she echoed, her voice sharp now. “patrick, we barely know each other.”

the words stung more than they should have. his jaw tightened, and something darker flickered behind his eyes. “i feel like i know you,” he said softly, stepping closer.

she stood, putting the bed between them. “you need to leave,” she said firmly, her voice shaking just enough to betray her fear.

patrick tilted his head, studying her like she was some delicate, breakable thing. “i can’t,” he murmured. “you don’t understand. i think about you all the time. i just wanted to see you, to talk to you.”

“this isn’t talking,” she snapped, her voice rising. “this is breaking in. this is insane!”

the word hit him like a slap. his lips twitched into a bitter smile. “insane?” he repeated, taking another step forward. “maybe. but you make me this way.”

she grabbed her phone, her fingers trembling as she tried to dial. “get out, or i’ll call the cops.”

patrick stopped, his expression shifting. his voice dropped to a near-whisper, equal parts pleading and menacing. “you don’t want to do that. please. just… let me explain.”

but the way she looked at him—like he was a stranger, a threat—tore something inside him. and as she pressed the button to call for help, patrick realized he wasn’t leaving without her. not tonight. not ever.

[kuromi-hoemie]

last rb stressed me out lowkey akakska i had an ex like that and it became a self fulfilling prophecy kinda thing..

[dewdrop-collective]

I think a big part of the reason that I went from anti-endo to endo-safe was absolutely due to how starkly different the communities felt.

Anti-endo communities were hard to engage with. Sure, some of them would focus on their support for each other more than their hatred of endogenic systems. And that's great! However, when you are brought together by your dislike of a certain group, you can't help but feel the hate permiate into so much of it. It always happened eventually. Anti-endo communities had such a focus on systems who were "fake" that I couldn't help but worry I was one of them, no matter how much they told me it was "just endos" they were concerned about.

The endo community (at least the parts I've engaged with and were easy to find) were so kind and respected me as a system, no matter how I felt or my plurality presented. Simply knowing we could find joy in our plurality allowed us to strive for so much more than we had thought possible before.

As a traumagenic system, we've improved so much with our symptoms and communication as a result of the positivity and acceptance we recieved. When we joined communities where we could be authenticallly ourselves (no matter what), we came together and faced so much less conflict between each other. And the conficts we did have, we realized that we could solve them together rather than alone.

When you are constantly doubting if you are "actually a system", you start to push the others away, and that made our dissociation and amnesia so much worse. I understand being careful of self-misdiangnosis, it can put you on the wrong path for how you learn to manage your symptoms. At the same time, the sentiment I often heard from endogenic systems when I was struggling with doubt and denial was very simple: "So what if you're not a system?" In short, it was okay to be wrong.

And that was huge for me. I realized that, no matter if I was a system or not, the techniques I used to improve ourselves and communicate with one another beneficial to me. At the end of the day, even if I wasn't a system after all, the skills I had found we invaluble to my health and well-being. So when I fall into denial spirals, no matter what I think about myself, I now know that I don't need to deprive myself of what has helped me, even if it is a "system thing." I don't feel scared to use these skills anymore (even in denial spirals), beacuse the line between what systems and non-systems or singlets can/can't do suddenly wasn't a big deal or a battle of "who can do what."

Our plurality is no longer a burden or a scar to us. It is simply who we are. We've learned so much about each other and ourselves since we've been accepted in full, and since we've learned to accept others. Endogenic communities have helped us (a traumagenic system) probably more than they'll ever know, and we're forever grateful for that.

So thank you, endogenic systems.

[starryglitterdreams]

OKAY, AND SO?

It's been a while since I made an actual post but anyways, here's one for those who find the 3D or circumstances annoying or frustrating.

Personally I also tend to fall into this trap and end up getting distracted by unwanted circumstances and annoying negative doubts and thoughts that pop up in my head, and then start spiraling into this self-sabotaging routine. So I had to reframe my mindset. I cannot be thinking like this anymore or it will just be a vicious cycle where I'm seemingly "stuck" in the 3D.

I am sure we all know by now that the 3D - the physical reality, the circumstances, the mirror, whatever you call it, is completely changeable and malleable. Okay fine, you know that the 3D can be changed, but now it's all up in your face and you can't seem to stop being bothered about it. How are we supposed to go around this then?

Whenever I see something I don't like in the 3D or negative thoughts start to pop up in my head, I just tell myself "Okay, and so?" Because they really do not matter, they literally have NOTHING to do with my 4D and whatever is going in my imagination at all! Since you know the 3D is simply just a mirror, does it really matter in the first place? NO!

And I know many other bloggers also say the exact same thing regarding the 3D, but after giving it much thought, it really is that simple and I feel that even I have been overcomplicating it this whole time!

My main point is do not get distracted by the 3D, and DO NOT GIVE UP. I know circumstances and the 3D can be shit and you absolutely hate it to the core, but if you know how the law works, then DO NOT GIVE UP!!

You had negative thought. Okay, so? You spiralled. Okay, so? Your 3D showed something opposite to your desires. Okay, so? Do these really matter? NO!

So MOVE ON AND CONTINUE TO ENJOY IN IMAGINATION WHEN YOU CAN! You don't have to be perfect as long as you know you're still on the right track!

[crucialplayer]

Thoughts on moon placements

!! everything is based purely on my experiences with signs, written with no other purpose than to share my observations and be unserious.

Aries moon. Will ask you a question and leave midway through u answering it just cuz little men in their head pushed a new button on the emotions console, inside out style. If they feel some type of way be sure everyone in the room will also feel it. Great at destroying social harmony. 

Taurus moon. Brick wall banging against which you risk irrevocably damaging ur head. Usually deal with stress or any negative emotions by falling asleep. Insanely bad at moving on from anything.

Gemini moon. Find an outlet for your thoughts and ideas and it better not be that one poor friend that is too nice to stop your rambling. Anxiety ride from the moment they wake up till the moment they fall asleep if they actually manage to. Never have a firm stance on anything. 

Cancer moon. If they feel sad they can suck the life out of the air. Feel a lot and usually stop at that. Somehow kinda bad at reflecting. Some of them could really benefit from rationalizing their emotions. Like to reminisce a lot. 

Leo moon. Every day is a Miss Universe contest. Don't understand the concept of putting yourself in someone else’s shoes. Live life like they’re being filmed for a biopic about them. Get offended easily. Having too many ego deaths on a daily basis bless them. 

Virgo moon. Invented anxiety and hating things. Genuinely think they are smarter than everybody but like to ignore the fact that they’ve been stuck in the loop of the same problems for a couple of years. VEry unstable self-esteem. 

Libra moon. Appear very carefree to the point of care actually not existing in their world I think. Like cute things and cute feelings. Dislike ugly things and ugly feelings. Shine best when surrounded by people and are needed by someone. 

Scorpio moon. If mood swings were a moon placement it’d be this one. Cutting ur hair at 3 am moon. Everything is profound and deeply personal. Identity crisis during a bus ride home. Being nonchalant is a hoax. 

Sagittarius moon. 3 minute emotional life cycle. Consider feeling down a random virus they caught somewhere and not a genuine state of being. Cure themself to the natural optimistic disposition by blowing up to someone’s face and proceeding to go with their day unbothered.   

Capricorn moon. Incapable of giving approval or being positive about anything. See three steps forward except only for the situations going wrong. Hence dissociate when they’re supposed to feel happy. The soul leaves their body when entrapped by loud people. 

Aquarius moon. Have ideas about feelings. When exposed to simple emotional stimuli fall into a theoretical spiral. Like to look for the signs and parallels. Without a social circle are like fish without water. 

Pisces moon. Kid lost in the mall vibe. Dreamed a more exciting life and are living it. Need alone time to survive but also kinda hate it?? Always care, would lose at the speed of light in the idgaf war. Do art please. 

[suugarbabe]

Origin Stories

(part 3)

summary: baby first year matty arrives at hogwarts and the first person he interacts with seems to not know him at all. matty is unsure how to feel when someone treats him like just another person instead of the dark lords son

warnings: fluff, angst, hurt but comfort after, slight magical child abuse, sad baby matty ; ; ; she's a long one folks

an: forever thankful for @musingsofahufflepuff and all the wondrous thoughts he puts into this, the editing he helps with, just everything <3; you're all welcome, yes there is another part, there will always be more

Magical wounds don’t always heal quickly. They also don’t always heal without scars. Mattheo learned that if a diffindo charm is cast with enough hatred and precision a simple episkey charm won’t do the trick.

That or his first year wand work just isn’t as practiced. His mother forbade his elf, Feindre, from healing it for him, and Salazar knows she wasn’t going to do it. 

Which left little newly twelve year old Mattheo standing in his bathroom staring in the mirror. It wasn’t even bleeding; the dark magic that his mother emits singed the edges of the cut as she made it. 

He really did try to heal it the best he could, but it seemed like he was going to always have a prominent scar running through his right eyebrow. 

His first thought after it all happened was how disappointed you’d be. That was his internal rationale as to why he was going to avoid you when he finally made it back to the castle. 

He couldn’t fathom his nightmares coming true. For you to tell him that you hated him. That he was a monster for what he did. That he deserved what his mother had done. 

He didn’t tell anyone where he was going, intending on just wallowing in self-pity. So when you found him hidden behind the wicker baskets near your common room entrance he was surprised. 

The sniffling alerted you. You were able to hear it as you neared the bottom of the spiral staircase. At first you thought maybe a fellow first year had forgotten the password, looking ahead of you to try and find someone from your dorm. 

But two steps past the stone tree base of the stairs and you heard sniffling again, this time from the nook that held the baskets. 

If he hadn’t made any noise, no one would be any the wiser that there was a Slytherin first year crouched behind the tall baskets in the stair nook. A crying one at that. 

“Matty?” Your voice startled him, quick hands swiping away his tears and fluffing his hair. “Matty, is that you back here?” Your head poked around the basket just in time to see him straightening out his robes. 

He turned his back to you. Part of him was hoping you’d just leave him there to rot in his miserable pit of shame and sadness. Part of him was glad you were there. 

“I know you can hear me, Mattheo.” The use of his full name made him flinch and he turned around to face you. While his back was turned you had joined him on the floor, legs criss-crossed and hands resting in-between. 

He kept his head down, curls covering his forehead, “Are you here to yell at me?” 

“Why would I-” your sentence was interrupted as he raised his head, fresh scar on full display. 

“I’m assuming Theo or Enzo told you, so you found me to tell me off and tell me what a shit friend I am. But don’t worry…I’ve been telling myself all of it already.” His voice wobbled at the end of his sentence, tears welling in his eyes. 

You didn’t understand what was happening, “Matty, talk to me, what- why would I be mad at you?” 

He sniffled again as he wiped at his eyes with the heel of his hand, “I b-broke your promise.” 

You inched closer to him, just slightly. You didn’t want him to run off; he was apparently good at finding places to hide. “Matty, what promise are you talking about?” 

He couldn’t look you in the eyes as he said it, “I couldn’t let it go, I…he just..Draco is a fucking prat and he deserves what I did.” You nodded, face unchanging, “What did you do, Matty.” 

He took a shuddered breath, willing himself not to cry while he explained himself, “He just looked so smug at the party - his family’s christmas party they throw every year - and I just couldn’t stand it

“Not with me knowing what he said to you, how he made you feel. It wasn’t right that he was laughing with his brainless friends that follow him around. I just kept seeing you crying in the back of my mind.” 

There was a rush of heat to your cheeks, something about knowing Matty was still dwelling on how awful you felt was stirring something inside you but you couldn’t tell exactly what. 

“I guess he must’ve told a joke or something,” Mattheo continued, staring at a point on the ground like it was replaying live in his brain as he told you, “Crabbe was cracking up and Draco just had that smirk on his face and I knew it was likely the same when he was being awful to you.

“So I had to do something, I couldn’t stop myself. I pushed through the crowd and I went right up to him and I just…lost it. I punched him in the gut first. Then he tried to take out his wand from his pocket and I just grabbed it from him and threw it into the crowd of adults around us.

“I just kept hitting him, and hitting him and I couldn’t stop. When he started crying I just thought good, he deserves this. I wanted him to physically feel the pain he had emotionally caused you.”

He felt the tears start to fall, but he couldn’t find it in him to care anymore. If you were going to stop being friends with him, he wanted you to know everything, to know he got rightfully punished already so that hopefully when you told him off you weren’t as harsh. 

“My mother stopped me. Well she…hit me with a stupify jinx and I guess she apparrated us back to our manor because she hit me with something else to wake me up so she could berate me.” 

He spared you to the details of his mother’s words. ‘You horrifically idiot child, do you know how embarrassing that was for me? For your father? Over a Mudblood, Mattheo. Mudblood we aim to rid our world of, we do not defend them.

��Is your mother the one who…” you trailed off, but he knew you were staring at it. “She was teaching me a lesson,” was all he could respond with. 

He saw you shake your head in his peripheral, “No. Absolutely not, no Matty that is not a lesson that’s abuse. C’mon. C’mon let’s go right now, we’re going to Madam Pomfry, I’m taking you to the infirmary so she can fully heal it.” 

You stood up then. He didn’t move, “No, I can’t do that.” You held your hand out for him, “Just, let’s go Matty she can heal it up really well I’ve seen her do it on one of my dorm mates before.” 

Mattheo just shook his head, “You don’t understand…she’ll just do it again. She wanted it like this, made me heal it myself and everything it’s…it’s a reminder.” He heard you scoff from above him. 

“What could that possibly be a reminder of? That she hates you?” Your mind was filled with so much purity, Mattheo almost didn’t want to tell you. He didn’t want to ruin how you saw the wizarding world, the excitement and joy you had on the train. 

But he also couldn’t lie to you, so he did his best to say the tamest version of what it really was, “It’s her reminder that she could if she wanted to.” Your sweet soul just couldn’t comprehend, “That she could what?” 

“Anything.”

You stood in a silence for a moment. To Mattheo it felt like forever. Like you were deciding all of it was too much. That he was too much. When you started speaking he couldn’t help his reflexive tensing, waiting for the rejection he figured was coming.

“Will you let me give you your Christmas present then? It might cheer you up?” 

Between the crying and standing up quickly Mattheo went slightly light headed for a moment, “Y-you got me a gift?” You gnawed on your lip slightly, “Well, erm, I didn’t actually buy you something but I…made you something.” 

You were staring at your hands, fingers fiddling with one another. Mattheo grabbed your hand suddenly, ignoring the rapid rhythm of his heart getting stronger and louder at the contact as he started dragging you down the hall. 

You glanced quickly at the pile of barrels that was your house entrance as Mattheo stopped in front of a portrait on the wall about ten feet down. “Erm, Matty. Why are we standing here,” you mock whispered, mirroring his position and looking at the portrait. 

“I’m waiting for you to say your password,” he turned to look at you, face scrunched in slight confusion. A grin broke on your face, “This is not my house entrance, goofy.” 

You begin to walk away from him, Matty following closely like a new puppy as you stop in front of the pile of barrels. You take a step closer to the barrel two from the bottom, knocking in time with the name ‘Helga Hufflepuff’. 

The front of the barrel begins to roll upwards into itself and you start to walk forward, Mattheo immediately behind you. “Your password is just knocking?” You nod, “Mhm! And it’s never changed and we were told it never will change. So you can’t tell anyone.” 

Mattheo nodded, “I won’t.” You turned to him then, “Do you pinky?” Mattheo couldn’t stop the instinctual tilt in his head, “Do I what?” You held a fist out towards him, your small pinky finger the only thing outstretched, “Do you pinky swear?”

His quickly mimics your hand position, confusion further settling in his brain as you hook your pinky finger on to his. You jut out your thumb, bringing it to your lips and kissing it quickly. 

Again, Mattheo does the same, not understanding what’s going on. “Okay, now seal it,” you lean your fist against his, your thumb reaching over. He touches his thumb to yours and his face and neck begin to feel hot.

His heart is beating quickly and he sort of feels light headed again, but you’re smiling, so he’s smiling and then you’re opening the door to your room. 

Enzo was the first to notice it, pointing it out loudly from across the dorm. “Whatcha carryin’, Matt?” Mattheo set the gift bag, your gift bag, down on his bed before shrugging off his robes. 

He was digging in his trunk, top half nearly fully inside while looking for lounge clothes when he heard the crinkle of tissue paper. By time he was able to get back to his bed Theo had revealed one of your gifts. 

“S’that a little dragon?” Enzo walked over enthusiastically to the opposite side of the bed Mattheo was on. Theo was currently holding the crocheted Antipodean Opaleye high in the air. 

Theo’s slightly longer limbs gave him the advantage he was hoping for as Mattheo reached for it, “Give it back, it’s not yours. It was made for me, not you!” 

Enzo climbed up on the bed next to Mattheo’s, giving himself a few good jumps before launching himself over and on top of Theo. “Oof– Enzo what the fuck,” Berkshire had snagged the handmade stuffie and was now settled against Mattheo’s pillows inspecting it.

He turned it this way and that, looking from its long neck to its wings and down to the tail before Matty grabbed it back from him. “Cut it out you gits, you’re gonna break him.” 

“What’s that string on your wrist?” Theo reaches to grab Mattheo’s forearm but he pulls it quickly into his chest. He grabs hold of his wrist, shielding it from view. 

The incessant whine of Draco’s voice wafts from his curtains, “Two handmade gifts? Your little badger friend poor or something? No surprise for a mud-” 

The rage in Mattheo grew nearly as high as the night he tried to beat Draco with his bare hands. Thankfully you had done more than just crochet and stuff the dragon; Mattheo held the Opaleye towards Draco’s bed, pulling strongly on its tail. 

A stream of flames emitted from the stuffed dragon’s mouth, immediately igniting the middle of the drapes on Draco’s four poster. 

���Wicked…clever little badger charmed it?!” Theo sounded highly impressed and Mattheo gleamed with pride. With Draco now distracted with his flaming curtains, Mattheo turned to his friends.

Enzo couldn’t contain his laughter at the sight, hands clutching his belly as he rolled to his side. Theo had his palm outstretched, giving Matty a ‘give it here’ motion with his fingers while holding a finger to his lips. 

Mattheo passed the dragon over just as Draco managed to put the first fire out. Theo then gave the Opaleye’s tail another tug, another stream of fire reaching Draco’s bed. The blonde boy let out a high pitched squeal of terror, attempting to throw a stinging jinx towards the other boys.

An impressive protego charm was thrown up by Matty as they all ran out of the room and towards the common room in a fit of giggles. As they all settled near a fireplace in separate chairs, catching their breath, Theo was the first to break the silence, “Where’d you learn that protection charm, amico? Isn’t that a sixth year charm?” 

“You know who his parents are-ow!” Theo wacked Enzo in the back of the head, “Futtuto idiota!” He turned back to Mattheo, “Sorry ‘bout him.” 

Mattheo just shook his head, gnawing lightly on his bottom lip, “S’okay, he’s right. Feindre-erm, my house elf taught it to me.” His face warmed slightly at the admittance. 

Enzo, trying to gracefully recover from his earlier statement, smiled far too widely, “Well that was - erm, nice of him?” Theo groaned, shaking his head and pinching the bridge of his nose before changing the subject, “You gonna show us what’s on your wrist now?” 

Mattheo shyly held his hand out in front of him. Both Theo and Enzo leaned forward, trying to get a closer look at the twisted and knotted pattern of greens, black and white on his wrist. Matty’s heart beat a little faster, something akin to protectiveness over your handiwork coming over him. 

“Badger made that by hand you said? No magic at all?” Enzo was now sitting on his knees in front of Mattheo, peering closer at the bracelet on his wrist. “Merlin, Enzo, back up. Where’s your boundaries, mate,” Theo pulled Enzo back by his collar causing the boy to fall backwards. 

“They said it was a friendship bracelet,” Mattheo said the phrase with some pride in his tone. Theo huffed, crossing his arms over his chest, “Where’s our friendship bracelets?” Mattheo shrugged, “Dunno, maybe you guys aren’t really friends.” 

“Oi! We’re friends!” Enzo defended, “We stand next to each other in Herbology, we were partners just last week!” Mattheo laid across the sofa, putting his hands behind his head, “Partners do not equate friends, Enzo.” 

Matty smirked to himself when he heard Enzo begin to grumble. “Well we’ll just find out at breakfast tomorrow won’t we.” 

You didn’t show up for breakfast. Mattheo’s mind went in a bit of a spiral because of it. He ran through everything that happened the previous evening, all of your interactions together. 

Was he not enthusiastic enough about his gifts? It wasn’t that he was not excited, he just never received such a thoughtful gift before. 

He never received any gifts before. 

He didn’t eat at all. The thought of you being upset with him made him feel physically ill and the idea of eating sausage and eggs made him want to vomit. 

He had been pulling at his curls during his walk to charms, gnawing on his bottom lip harshly. He was just about ready to explode from the weird rush of heat that seemed to be encompassing him the more he thought about you when he finally heard your voice. 

“Matty!” You were waving your hand high as you walked through the doorway. Without giving it thought Mattheo did the same, raising his arm high as he waved, his new friendship bracelet now on full display. 

Your grin was so large Mattheo was sure your face was about to split right in half, “You wore it! I’m so glad, I was afraid you’d find it a little bit cheesy.” 

Mattheo followed your gaze to his arms now crossed on the table, bracelet still peaking from his robes. The bridge of his nose and tips of his ears suddenly became very warm as he pulled his sleeve to cover it fully. 

“Erm, yeah. I’ve never gotten a present-Ehm, a present like that before. How did you make it without any magic?”

You turned in your seat to face him, hands animated as you spoke, “Last summer I visited my cousin in America and we went to this thing called a summer camp and we learned how to do all sorts of cool stuff, bracelets were one of them.” 

Mattheo had a bad habit of staring and not responding. He supposed it was likely something he developed to cause less negative reactions from his mother. 

However you were now running your hand through your hair, cheeks seemingly warming and waiting for a response. “What’s, erm, what’s a summer camp?” Mattheo finally found his voice but he wanted to smack himself. 

You sound so stupid, everyone probably knows what those are. He clenched his fist tightly, then relaxed them; a skill Feindre taught him a few years ago. 

Your eyes seem to brighten once more, launching into a long explanation about the experience and all the activities you got to do and what they meant. 

It all sounded like Gobbledegook to him, but seeing how happy it made you to get the opportunity to explain something that excited you was satisfying enough for him.  

Charms was the only class he had with you Monday mornings. Thus, once Fitwick dismissed everyone he was stuck to survive without you until lunch. Mattheo, therefore, felt numb for the next two classes.

Theo was about to ask Mattheo if he needed to go to the infirmary on their way to lunch as it looked like he’d been walking around brain dead for the last two lessons. That is until he noticed you at the lunch table, next to Enzo. Sitting right next to Enzo. 

Theo also noticed this, grabbing Mattheo by the elbow and dragging him to the other side for the both of them to sit across from you. Mattheo contemplated if it would be too dramatic of him to climb over the table and sit on your free side. 

“So what’d we miss?” Theo started piling food on his plate, a passing glance at you and Enzo the only indication of where he was directing the question. 

You rolled your eyes as Enzo responded, “I was just asking our little badger here why Matt got a friendship bracelet but we didn’t.” 

They’re my badger not our badger you twit, Mattheo squeezed his eyes shut trying to shake the negative thought from his brain. 

Theo hummed, biting into one of the several pasties he now had on his plate, “Hey, that’s right! Why didn’t we get one?” 

You shrugged your shoulders, “Matty was my first friend.” Mattheo’s chest swelled, the smallest hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. Enzo scoffed, “We were your second and third friends! We deserve bracelets too! What, do you hate us all of a sudde-ow, ow, oi what the?!” 

Enzo’s hand covered his forehead where you had just landed a particularly hard flick with your finger, “Lorenzo don’t be selfish.” The boy next to you slumped his shoulders slightly, a soft and grumbled ‘sorry’ leaving his lips. 

Theo took another bite of pasty, “M’kay so when we’re all as close as you and Matty do we get two gifts, too?” 

“Well one was for Christmas and one was for his birthday.” You said it so casually, like it made perfect sense. Mattheo, however, was looking at you with wide awestruck eyes before quickly looking down at his plate. 

The other two boys looked slightly guilty. ”Mate,” Enzo looked toward the older boy, “your birthday was over holiday? We missed it?” 

Mattheo just shrugged, “You both were around. It was the same day as Malfoy’s little soirée.” Theo and Enzo looked at each other before Theo turned to Mattheo, “You mean the same day your mum-”

“Yeah, the same,” Mattheo pulled on the curls by his forehead trying to hide the still healing scar by his eyebrow. Noticing his uncomfortableness, you tried to change the subject. 

“Did he show you guys his dragon’s special skill?” 

Mattheo was thankful for the distraction. The other boys taking pride in the slight torture they all instilled on Draco. You tried to reprimand them slightly but Mattheo saw the edges of your lips curling upwards. 

Enzo, as always, was being enthusiastic in his storytelling. Hands flailing and body moving to illustrate what his words were describing. As he described getting the little dragon from Theo, he mimed launching himself off the bed and then wrapped his arms around you to simulate what he did to Theo and Mattheo suddenly felt horrible. 

A weird twisting started appearing slowly in his stomach and spreading throughout his body. It only became more intense as you laughed, pushing Enzo off you. A low heat began emanating off Matty as Enzo continued to bump or nudge you throughout his storytelling. 

Mattheo gripped his fork harshly, the prongs scraping against the table as a means of distraction (and not hex Berkshire at the lunch table). Someone must have asked him a question because Theo nudged him with his elbow, nodding his head towards you. 

“Are you okay, Matty?” Your eyebrows were knit slightly together, eyes darting from his to his fork making four deep marks in the wood of the table. Mattheo dropped his fork to the table, “Oh, yeah, I’m sorry. Did you ask me something?” 

A small smile appeared on your features, “I just asked what you were thinking about.” Mattheo wracked his brain for a viable excuse. He wasn’t sure how you would feel about him plotting Enzo’s demise due to his proximity to you. 

“Ehm, I was, erm, just thinking about what to get you for, erm your birthday? W-when is it again?” 

Through a mouthful of sausage Enzo answers for you, “ ‘ts in March.” That twisting feeling started brewing again, thankfully Theo asked what Mattheo was wondering. “How do you know when their birthday is?”

Enzo sat a little straighter, “Because we’re friends.” Then very unceremoniously, he stuck his tongue out at Matty. 

“I’ll cut that tongue out, Enzo,” Matty threatened and the boy immediately sucked his tongue back into his mouth. You playfully scolded the curly haired boy, “Oh hush, Matty you will not. And yes, Enzo we’re friends, Theo you are also my friend but Mattheo is my best friend.” 

Mattheo felt like his heart was swelling, the smile exploding on his face was out of his control and his legs started bouncing slightly. Then he turned back to Enzo, sticking his tongue out at him. 

“I’ll cut that tongue out, Matty,” Enzo mocked his friend's earlier words. You rolled your eyes, Theo apparently doing the same. “Are they always like this?” 

Theo leaned his head on his fist, elbow supported on the table as his eyes darted back and forth at the two other boys flinging insults at each other, “Honestly this is new, but I don’t think it’s going away anytime soon.” 

Now that he had learned when your birthday was, Mattheo was determined to get you a gift. He had two months to plan, and he was really wracking his brain about what would be good enough after all you’ve done for him. 

He did his best to listen intently (as if he listened any other way around you) for any idea of what to get you. Mattheo knew he was rich, all of his friends were. He could buy you anything you wanted. He wanted to buy you anything you wanted. 

But everything you talked about loving or wanting wasn’t material whatsoever. 

A month and a half later Matty was slumped in a lounge chair in his common room. He was looking especially moody, which made Theo a little hesitant to even ask, but he considered Mattheo a good friend now. 

“You wanna tell me what’s wrong, Matt?” Theo lounged sideways over the chair next to Mattheo’s, his continuously growing limbs hanging over each side. Mattheo stayed brooding, “Why do you care.” 

Theo shrugged, “We’re mates, I care about you. I don’t wanna see you all sad and mopey all the time.” Mattheo felt a slight pang in his chest, looking over at Theo and his shy grin. 

Mattheo sat up straighter, “I don’t know what to get y/n for their birthday and it’s only like two weeks away now.”  Theo nodded, “Have they mentioned anything they want?” 

A scowl crossed over Matty’s face, “Don’t you think I’ve been listening for that all this time?” Theo threw his hands up in defense, Mattheo sighed, “Sorry, I’m sorry Theo it’s just. Ugh, they’re so great, you know? They made me gifts. How can anything I buy top a handmade gift?” 

Mattheo sunk into the chair again with a groan. Theo pulled at his bottom lip as he thought to himself, then shaking his head as if to disregard whatever he was thinking. “You know they still haven’t made us bracelets? Enzo was complaining earlier saying he was just going to make them himself but he can’t figure out how they did it.” 

Mattheo’s eyes widened, and then a wonderful idea occurred to him, “I don’t say this often, Nott…but you’re a bloody genius. I gotta go.” And with that he sprinted from the common room. 

Mattheo slowed as he reached the library. He really hoped she was in there. He didn’t particularly have a problem with her, per say. But he knew she had a problem with him and all of his friends. Maybe his cousin in particular. 

As typical, he spotted Hermione Granger alone at one of the library tables, parchment and textbooks spread all about, quill moving vigorously. 

He stood in front of her table for a moment before he realized he’d have to actually say something for her to get out of whatever study trance she was in. Matty cleared his throat, “Em, hello.” 

Her quill stopped abruptly, eyes slowly lifting until she realized who was in front of her. Mattheo took her silence as a guide to keep talking, “You’re, erm, muggle born right?” The shift in her eyebrows told Mattheo he started off with the wrong thing, quickly trying to back track and start over. 

“No, not like that! I just mean…you know what this is right?” He pulled his robes up, showing off the intricate pattern of string in his house colors. Hermione set down her quill, “You’re asking me if I know what a friendship bracelet is? What are you up to Riddle, some sort of prank?”

He quickly calmed the bit of anger that arose inside his chest, “It’s Mattheo…and no, it’s not a prank. Do you know how to make these? Where I could get the stuff for it?” She set down her quill, clasping her hands in front of her. 

“Why should I help one of Malfoy’s little friends?” Mattheo scowled for a brief moment, then cooled his face back down, “First of all, we’re not friends. Our proximity is by force not by choice, Granger. Second of all, I’m the one who gave him the black eye after Christmas.” 

They stared at each other in silence, Hermione very clearly trying to analyze if he’s being truthful. Mattheo did his best to keep his stoic, however he couldn’t hold her stare, eyes darting around at everything but her. 

“Fine…I’ll tell you, but just the basics.” 

Mattheo had never sat down so quickly at a library table all year. Hermione pulled out a piece of fresh parchment from her bag, ripping off about six inches. “There’s that much instruction?!” Mattheo was beginning to feel defeated, but Hermione just held up her hand to silence him. 

“I’m just writing basic instructions and a very rough illustration,” she turned the parchment to face him. Mattheo’s eyes danced over the words, desperately trying to make them all make sense. Hermione then tapped the tip of her wand to the parchment, the illustration now repetitively demonstrating how to start the knots. 

Mattheo had to stop his jaw from dropping, “Woah.” Hermione shrugged, “That’s the best you’re getting, don’t expect a real life example from me. It’s not going to be easy if this is the first time you’ve ever attempted it, I hope you know that.” 

His mouth flattened into a thin line, “I’m well aware…but erm, thanks for this.” He stuffed the parchment in the pocket of his robes and stood up. 

“Thanks for punching your cousin,” Hermione wore a small smile as she began focusing back on her work. He began to walk away before turning round to face her once more, “Where would I find the right-”

“Any common string will work, Ri- Mattheo.” 

He nodded, thanking her once more before leaving the library. He started down a random corridor, trying to wrack his brain on where in this ginormous castle he would find what he was looking for. 

The bracelet you made him was his house colors, would you like it if the one he made was yours? Fuck what was their favorite color again? Did they tell me? I’m such a shitty listener, Mattheo felt like he was going insane. This had to be perfect. 

His mind was going a mile a minute, round and round of what he might need, where he was supposed to get it. Then a door appeared next to him on the corridor wall. It looked like an entrance to a broom closet. He looked both ways down the corridor before shrugging his shoulders and turning the doorknob to walk inside. 

“Bloody hell…” the room did turn out to be about the size of a broom closet. But it also held about every color of string Mattheo could think of. There were also small bins of tiny beads, all different colors, some white and round with black little letters. 

As he searched for materials he noticed all of the house colors seemed to be sectioned off together. He walked over to the black and yellow of Hufflepuff before noticing another few sets of bins with different beads in them. Black beads, boring. Yellow beads, boring-er. 

Then he saw the perfect touch he wanted to add. A little gold bead with a tiny little black badger. Perfect, he thought, a badger for my badger. 

When your mother is Bellatrix Lestrange and your father is Voldemort, a lot of things will come easy to you. Magic, for instance, was something that Mattheo started to show signs of at around one year old. 

It was almost unheard of, but no one was really surprised. From what he’s told he was able to levitate his bottle to him whenever he wanted it. Since then most things would just come to him if he tried it or willed it. 

So why he was struggling so badly with making a simple bracelet out of string and beads he could not figure out. 

“Oh fucking hell,” he cursed out loud before trying to undo the last three knots that he had just realized were the wrong pattern for that line of color. 

Enzo tsked from across the room, “You still tryna work on that, Matt? You know their birthday is tomorrow.” Mattheo grumbled to himself getting up from his desk to go and punch his pillow a few times. 

“I’d say he knows, Berk,” Theo was laying out his uniform on his desk chair. “You do have a back up plan though right, Matty? I mean this as a friend who cares…you’re not finishing that tonight.”

Mattheo flopped down into his bed face first and screamed for five seconds straight. He then turned his head towards his friends, “I can buy them a hippogriff…they always talk about how that’s their favorite magical creature.” 

Enzo couldn’t control the bubble of laughter that left his throat as Theo quirked an eyebrow, “Mattheo…what would they even do with that? Where would they keep it? Just a hippogriff hanging in the Hufflepuff common room?” 

“They are the more nature loving house, Theo,” Enzo was biting his lip to stifle his giggles. Theo threw him a glare, turning back to Matty, “Where would they keep it over summers? Christmas holidays? Are they going to bring a hippogriff to their home in muggle London?!”

Enzo held out both of his hands in front of him, “Let’s not be too hasty, I definitely think Matt should get ‘em one. It’s a great idea.” 

Theo hopped of his bed, walking over to Enzo’s before giving the back of his head a good thwack! “Idiota de merda!” 

Enzo rubbed the back of his head with a grimace, “I’m getting tired of you sods bloody hitting me all the time.” Theo jumped back onto his own bed, “Then stop deserving it.” They started to lightly bicker back and forth, Mattheo just ignored them for the moment. 

Mattheo then glared at both of them, each boy turning away and mumbling something about it getting late and needing to go to bed. Mattheo followed suit, climbing completely under his covers and drawing his drapes.

He felt like a great weight was on top of him. Pressing him further and further into his bed. Squishing him down further into a pit reserved for the worst friends known to man and wizard kind. Maybe if he just succumbs to the darkness then he won’t have to wake up and disappoint you. 

He grabbed hold of the dragon you made him, holding it close to his chest and tucking it under his chin. He knew getting an actual hippogriff was a little crazy. But he could afford it, it wasn’t like it was out of his means. 

He tucked his face into his stuffed dragon, thinking again about how thoughtful and talented it was of you to make him the little stuffed animal. Then, right before sleep took over, a fantastic idea began consuming his thoughts. 

Mattheo slept through breakfast. He woke up with a start, covered in a sheen of sweat. He likely had a nightmare, of what he wasn’t sure. There were about three in rotation right now. 

In a rush he got ready and nearly sprinted to charms, getting to his seat beside you slightly out of breath. On the desk in front of him was a biscuit with jam. Gooseberry, his favorite. 

“Boys said you were sleeping when they left. Figured you might be late…and hungry,” you were smiling at him in that kind way that you do. He was thankful he ran that last bit to class as now you wouldn’t notice how intensely he was blushing. 

“T-thanks, but shouldn’t everyone be getting things for you today?” Mattheo had a shy smile on his face. You tilted your head slightly, he continued, “Because it’s your birthday. Erm. Happy Birthday, Y/n.” 

Your smile was unimaginably wide, “Thank you, Matty.” Flitwick entered the room from his office at the front, effectively silencing any conversation being had. 

The lesson went on in a fog, you studiously taking notes and Mattheo trying to figure out if he had enough time after potions and before lunch to grab your gifts from his room. 

Once Flitwick dismissed everyone, Mattheo walked you to your next class. “You didn’t have to do this, aren’t you going to be late to potions?” Your chest felt warm and you couldn’t stop smiling. 

Mattheo shrugged, “It’s your birthday, you deserve all the attention today.” You thanked him again before waving goodbye and entering your next classroom. 

As soon as your back was turned Mattheo started sprinting towards the dungeons. The only time he was thankful for his father being the Dark Lord was when it came to Professor Snape. 

Mattheo had been late to potions the most out of all of his courses this year. Each time Snape had given him a look, asked him to find his seat, but not taken any house points. Today had been the same. He did as asked, sitting next to Theo. 

“You figure out what to get your little badger?” Theo flicked his wand and ignited the flames beneath his and Mattheo’s cauldron. Mattheo nodded, “Yeah, gonna give it to them during lunch.” 

Theo continued to bug Mattheo throughout potions and the next lesson about what he ended up getting you. But Mattheo didn’t budge. He didn’t want anyone else to know your gift before you. He wanted it to be special, just like yours were to him. 

Mattheo told Theo he would meet him in the Great Hall, rushing back down to his dorm to grab your gift bags. When he finally made his way back up all the stairs, he found you sitting across from Theo and Enzo near the end of the Slytherin table. His rightful spot beside you free just for him. 

As he walked over he noticed two more gifts sitting in front of you. His face must have displayed his confusion as you happily clarified as he sat down, “Theo and Enzo got me gifts, isn’t that nice of them?” Mattheo turned to the other two boys. Theo wore a tight lipped smile, while Enzo showed all his teeth.

Mattheo sat both of his bags next to the others as you took the first small bag and began to open it. Theo sat up straighter, grin growing as you pulled out his gift. “Ice cream?” you asked, causing Theo’s face to turn up slightly in disgust. 

“Ice cream?? No, no, compagno, it is gelato! I don’t know if you know this, but I’m Italian, we do not eat ice cream. Would never let that monstrosity touch my tongue,” Theo fake gagged, sticking his tongue out. 

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, “Thank Merlin you told me. I couldn’t quite tell by your thick accent, so I’m glad you clarified.” A smirk adorned your face as Theo stuck his tongue out. 

“I owled mia mamma and she sent some over for me. There’s a chilling charm on it so it will always be cold, you don’t even have to put it in, erm,” Theo had his hand in front of him moving it in a circular motion, “como si dice…your cold box?” 

Enzo rolled his eyes, “The freezer.” You nodded in understanding, “Thank you, Theo. That’s so cool! Tell your mum thanks from me too.” Theo gave you a small nod as you grabbed the next bag. 

It was a little smaller than the first. You pulled off the top tissue paper to see what looked like a piece of ripped parchment. You held it up in front of you, staring at the blank piece of parchment. “Erm…thank you, Enzo.” 

Enzo displayed a toothy grin, shaking his head, “Turn it over.” You did as told, reading in small, sloppy scrawl, Coupon: good for two free flicks. You burst into a fit of laughter, holding your stomach. Mattheo had to shoot his arm out to catch you from falling backwards. 

“Care to share with the class?” Mattheo took the piece of parchment from you as you handed it over. “Good for two free flicks? Really Enzo?” Theo reached over the table, pulling a quill out of his back, “Let me notarize the back of this so he can’t go back on his word.” 

Enzo took the quill from Theo, signing below him, “I’m serious. You can use them whenever you think is necessary.” Mattheo and Theo rolled their eyes in sync. “Don’t use them all at once, I’d save them up if I were you.” 

Mattheo nodded, “Keep that parchment in a good place, I say make him wait a year or two and then go for the attack.” You took the ‘coupon’ back from Theo and folded it neatly, putting it in a safe pocket inside your bag. 

You went to grab the next gift, “These last two both from you, Matty?” He nodded shyly, “Em, yeah…Christmas and your birthday.” You beamed, beginning to take the tissue paper out of the bag before reaching inside. The first thing you pull is a pack of cauldron cakes. 

“Oh yum, my favorite, thank you Matty- Holy Helga is this…is this a little niffler?” You hold up the small stuffie of a baby niffler, turning it and showing it to the other two boys. Mattheo nods with a grin, “It has a little pocket in it’s belly like a real one. I figured you could keep your wizard money in there when you're on breaks or something.” He scratched at the back of his neck nervously. 

“That’s brilliant, thank you!” You grabbed for the second gift and Mattheo started unconsciously picking at his thumbs. You pulled out another stuffed animal, this one being, “A hippogriff? Mattheo…you didn’t!”

Theo huffed, “Be happy he did this, he almost bought you a real one.” Mattheo’s cheeks were instantly aflame. Enzo continued on, shrugging his shoulders, “I still think it would’ve been a good idea.” 

Mattheo cleared his throat, trying to distract from his friends, clearly trying to embarrass him, “Touch, erm, touch your wand to it’s tail.” You pulled your wand from your robe pocket, doing exactly as Mattheo told. 

No sooner did your wand meet the back of the hippogriff did its little stuffed wings begin to move, flapping up and down as the animal started lifting from the table, its head moving this way and that before touching back down to the table and becoming imobile once again. 

Mattheo always had a way to make you smile until your cheeks hurt. Today he had made your birthday one of the best you had ever had. “I-I don’t know if I can say thank you enough times for this, Matty.” 

The curly haired boy just shook his head, “It’s not as good as what you got me. I mean, Salazar's sake you made my gifts. I just bought these and put a simple flying charm on one. I tried to make you something but it, erm, I haven’t-”

“This is perfect, thank you,” you turned to Theo and Enzo, “all of you. Best birthday ever.” Enzo made the four of you cheers with your pumpkin juice, vowing that in a few years it’d be something stronger. You threatened to use one of your flicks almost immediately. 

Mattheo continued to try to work on his own friendship bracelet for you, any of the boys walking in on him at random times bent over his desk fiddling with colored string and randomly cursing. 

He became so determined that he frequently ignored Enzo’s requests to play exploding snap or Theo’s requests to play wizards chess. Mattheo just kept saying he was ‘busy’ or he ‘needed to just finish this one part’, frequently working until he couldn’t tell the strings apart and just decided to go to bed for the night. 

“Fucking finally! Ha!” Mattheo stood abruptly from his desk shouting in victory and causing Enzo to nearly shut his trunk on his fingers with a yelp. “Fucking hell, Matt, what is it?” 

Theo folded one of his sweaters and placed it in his trunk neatly before turning around, “Finally manage to make a bracelet, eh, Matty?” Mattheo walked over, proudly holding his creation for them to see. 

Enzo peered at it closely, “It looks…” Theo interrupted, “Perfect. It looks great, amico.” Mattheo nodded after getting his friend's approval, setting the bracelet on his night stand before going over to his closet, grabbing all of his things in a large pile and tossing them messily into his trunk. “There, all done,” he pretended to dust his hands off before going over to his bed and climbing in. 

He held his dragon close to his chest, whispering quietly to himself, “M’gonna have to hide you in my trunk over summer. Have to soak up the cuddles now little buddy.” 

The next morning was nothing short of chaos. Dozens of students in the slytherin common room shouting what they were still missing. Things like ‘accio scarf!’ Or ‘Has anyone seen a bag of marbles?’ could be heard across the expansive space. 

Mattheo ignored all of it as he, Theo and Enzo made their way from the common room to the main halls. Just as they left the common room entrance, Enzo stated that he forgot something in his trunk that he wanted for the train. 

Theo graciously, but not without eye roll, agreed to go back with him. Mattheo trucked on ahead, stating he was going to meet you by the great hall before heading to the boat docks. 

As expected, you beat him there, waiting by the large hall entrance for him. You were wearing muggle clothes, jeans and a relaxed t-shirt. Mattheo was dressed in very neat and very expensive wizard robes. “Don’t you look dashing,” your tone was teasing but you wore a smile as you said it. 

Mattheo’s face heated all the same, “And you look…comfortable.” You laughed, “More comfortable than you I assume. You going to a ball right as you arrive home?” The two of you began the walk and subsequent descent down the many many stairs to where the first year boats were docked. 

“Erm, no ball but this is what my mother believes proper pureblood wizards should wear all the time..” he trailed off a little shyly, pretending to be hyper focused on not falling down the last few stairs. 

Hagrid greeted you both kindly, sitting you in a boat with two ravenclaws before pushing it off the dock and towards Hogsmeade Station. “Welp, hope Theo and Enzo don’t kill us for leaving without them.” 

Mattheo shrugged his shoulders, “I’m sure they’ll find us eventually. Might as well enjoy the calm while we can.” You turned and looked behind you, taking a last glance at the castle for the year. 

“I’m gonna miss Hogwarts this summer. Do you think you will?” Mattheo watched you as you watched the castle, “Yeah, I’m gonna miss it a lot.” 

Once the boat docked Mattheo followed behind you on the platform and onto the Hogwarts Express. He didn’t understand why you were passing so many empty cars until you finally stopped and opened one. The same one you both rode to school in last September.

“S’gotta be tradition now, doesn’t it? Riding in the same car each year. Do you think we can manage it?” you sat on one of the car benches and kicked your feet up, stretching out. Mattheo thought about how early Feindre had gotten him to the train for his first year. It was likely always going to be that way. 

“I don’t think it’ll be a problem.” He sat down across from you, stuffing his hands in his pockets and pulling out a small envelope. “Hey, erm, I-I wanted to give you this before the others showed up. A going away present I s’pose.” 

You took the envelope from him, noticing your name printed across it in pointed and scratchy writing. “What is it? Oh, poo, I didn’t get you a going away gift,” you flipped the envelope over, pausing before opening it to pout slightly. 

Mattheo shook his head, “S’alright, not needed. Just..open this one and tell me if you like it.” 

You broke the seal, lifting the edge and peaking inside, “Is this what I think it is?” Your eyes suddenly grew wide as Mattheo gnawed on his bottom lip and shrugged. You opened your palm out flat, turning over the envelope. Out of it fell a black and yellow handmade bracelet with a single gold bead. 

“You made me a friendship bracelet?” Your voice was almost a whisper and you rubbed your fingers over the detail, holding it close to your face to inspect it. “Well…I made you a best friend bracelet. Now we match,” Mattheo’s voice sounded a bit small, but it was all the confidence he could muster. 

You shook your head with a smile, quickly turning over your wrist and attempting to tie it on with one hand. Mattheo picked at his thumbs for a moment before standing up and bridging the small space that was between the two of you, “Here lemme help.” 

His fingers fumbled slightly but he eventually was able to tie a knot correctly. You looked up from your wrist, meeting his eyes, “Thank you.” Mattheo held eye contact, “You’re welcome.” 

The train car opened with a slam, causing Mattheo to jump slightly before immediately sitting down on the bench beside you. You could feel the heat of his thigh on yours, but you didn’t say anything, Enzo’s mouth going a mile a minute with complaints. 

“I forget one bloody thing and you two go off and run to the train without us? You know Theo and I waited for like..five whole minutes at the Great Hall doors before saying screw it and just heading toward the docks. Only to see yet again that you two have left us.” 

Mattheo slumped back into the seat, “You’ve got to be kidding me, has he been like this the whole way?” Theo nodded, looking slightly exhausted, “You haven’t been listening to it for the last twenty minutes. Made us look in every train car window until we found you.” 

You looked around the car, laughing at your friend’s going back and forth at each other. Theo and Enzo started in at each other once again, causing you and Mattheo to make eye contact before bursting out in laughter. 

Mattheo smiled to himself. For the first time in probably his whole life, he would be confident in saying that at this moment, he was truly happy. For the next ten hours, he was determined to soak in as much of this happiness as he could, hoping it would last for the two months he would have to spend away from you.

[lustfulslxt]

What Are You Doing Step Bro? - Chris Sturniolo

summary : you go on a small trip with your new “family”. you and chris, your stepbrother, test the waters and give into your deepest desires.

warnings : step siblings kink, breeding kink, swearing. think that's it, but probably not. NSFW

a/n : i do not want to hear a single thing about how they're related, it's incest, it's gross, it's weird -- whatever the fuck. there are absolutely no blood relations! if you're not into this kinda thing, simply shut up and keep scrolling while the rest of us get our rocks off :)))))))

--

His wavy brown hair falls perfectly over his face as he packs his duffel bag. The moonlight illuminates his prominent cheekbones. His long eyelashes brush over his cheeks every time his eyes flutter, the cool light making his bright blue irises damn near glow. His sharp jaw clenches every time his mind runs back to this dreaded 'family' trip. His muscly arms flex with every movement he makes. Every so often, his tongue flicks over his pretty, pink lips. Oh, those lips, how badly I want to feel them dance across my skin. I shouldn't be thinking these kinds of things, but I can't help it. The way he carries himself, so confident and sexy.

It's been a year since our families moved in together. Him, his father, my mother, and me. Our parents got married out of the blue. Honestly, I hadn't even seen much of his father before they announced their engagement, so, it was a surprise they had sprung on us. Then, abruptly uprooting us from our own lives just to come together as a supposed family. We're not family.

His father tries too hard, and Chris is just a douchebag. We bicker so much, yet I can't help but feel extremely attracted to him. There's no doubt in my mind, if he wasn't my stepbrother, I would have been pounced. When we're arguing about who's turn it is for the bathroom, sometimes, I imagine locking us in there and jumping his bones. I know I'm not imagining things, there's an extreme tension between us. However, there's nothing I can do about it.

"Have you even started packing?" His deep voice snaps me from my spiraling thoughts.

I scoff, "Of course, I'm not an idiot. I don't wait until the last minute to do things, like you."

He shakes his head, a smirk pulling to his luscious lips. "I make it work, sweetheart. Just cause you like to be the obedient good little girl."

I turn my head away from him to hide the flush in my cheeks, "Don't call me that."

"Which one?" His smirk grows, "Sweetheart? Or good little girl?"

"Don't call me either of them!" I snap, fulling turning my body to the opposite side of the room.

I can feel my skin burning with desire. I mentally curse myself at my bodily reactions to his simple, yet teasing words. He knows what he's doing, and it's driving me mad. I huff a little before walking off in the direction of my bedroom, his faint chuckling being heard before I close my door.

I jump onto my bed, my limbs sprawling out, and look up at the ceiling. My lips curve upwards, a shit eating grin planting itself on my face. God, I hate him. More so, I hate that I don’t hate him. I hate that I want him as bad as I do. It’s not right.

I spend the rest of the night lying in bed, scrolling through various social medias to keep my mind off of the boy in the room right next to mine. It only seems to work half of the time, my stupid brain continuously wanders back to him. Ugh, why would my mother do this to me? She knows how much I lack self control.

—

The next morning, I spend the first couple of hours getting last minute things ready for our trip. Maybe I lied to Chris last night, saying I had already packed. He doesn’t need to know.

I just got out of the shower and into my room, still wrapped in a towel. I sit on my bed, letting myself cool off and air dry a little bit. After a few minutes of doing nothing, I stand up to dry my hair, only realizing my blow dryer is in the bathroom. I groan and make my way back out into the hall, but when I get to the bathroom door, I realize the shower is running. Of course he’d be in there when I need to grab stuff. After a split second of pondering, I decide to just quickly grab my blow dryer and my brush.

Upon opening the door, steam flows out of the bright room, and I can feel the humidity in there. I scurry to the counter, quickly grabbing my things, when I pause. My eyes staring into the mirror, solely focused on the scene behind me. Our shower door is clear, and though it’s foggy, I can still see right through it.

There, Chris is, in all his glory. His body glistens, water steadily pouring down over him. His hair is stuck to his forehead, his head tilted down while he lets the water run over him. His lean body curving in all the right places. My eyes involuntarily follow his figure down, locking right below his waist. My mouth waters at the sight. His dick hangs down, the same color as his lips, definitely above average. Even from far away, I can see the veins running along side it. My mouth slightly parts at the sight.

“You just gonna stand there and stare at me all day, or you gonna get in?” He asks, his head still facing the floor.

I gasp, slightly embarrassed that he caught me staring at him. “Don’t be weird!”

“Says the one looking at me like she wants to take a bite.” He chuckles, finally turning his head in my direction.

My face catches fire, the rosy shade deepening the longer we make eye contact. I force myself to look away, quickly grabbing my things and running out of there. How humiliating.

Shutting myself in my room, I pause and let out a deep breath. Before I can help it, another grin makes its way to my face. Wow, he’s hung. I shake my head, trying to rid my mind of certain thoughts. Why am I like this?

I set my stuff on my desk, plugging the blow dryer in to get to work. Making sure my towel is securely wrapped around my chest, I start to dry my hair, brushing through it as I go. My hair is super thick, so it usually takes a good minute to fully dry and get it how I like it.

The loud machine blasts in my ears, so loud that I hadn’t notice the presence in my room. The feeling of warm fingertips brushing the back of my thigh, right below my towel, causes me to jump and shriek in fear, my towel falling in the process. I quickly turn around to be met with Chris and his infamous smirk. I hurriedly bend down, yanking my towel back up to cover myself, but it’s too late. He already saw everything, and it’s evident on his features.

“What are you doing?” I squeal.

“What?” He asks, feigning innocence. “You can look at me, but I can’t look at you? That’s not fair, is it?”

“Chris.” I say, swallowing my nerves. “What do you want?”

He grins, flashing his pearly white teeth. “I’m not too sure I’m allowed to answer that. But I won’t tell if you won’t.”

I open my mouth to say something, yet fall short of words. I can’t speak, I can’t even think. He licks his lips and steps closer to me, his hand now brushing against the front of my thigh, just below the towel. My breath hitches in my throat, my skin tingling underneath his touch. He flattens his whole palm against my thigh, leaning in even closer to me.

“Chris!” His dad’s voice calls out from somewhere on the farther side of the house.

He tsks, his lips brushing against my ear, “I guess you’ll have to find out another time, sweetheart.”

Without another word, he walks off, leaving me standing there with a slack jaw as I stare into the distance. I’ve never wanted someone as much as I want him. He’s actually going to be the death of me. He makes it so easy to want to be bad.

I swallow, attempting to lubricate my now dry throat, and get back to getting ready. The entire time, Chris and the way his skin felt on mine never leaving my thoughts. In fact, I spent the remainder of my morning fantasizing about what it would be like to have him. All of him. Safe to say, I had to change my panties before leaving my room.

—

It's been a couple of hours since my little run in with Chris. For the most part, I've managed to keep myself occupied to keep him off of my mind. Yet, every now and then, I can feel my thoughts slipping into a steamy abyss filled with erotic fantasies involving my stepbrother. We're all getting ready to leave, taking trips out to the car, filling it with all of our bags and whatnot.

"The resort just called." My mother announces as we all gather at the front door. "Our room is ready for us."

"Splendid! Let's get this show on the road!" Chris' dad cheers, running off to the car with my mom.

Chris and I watch them before looking at each other. A sly smirk pulls to his lips, yet again, and he nods ahead of him. "After you, sweetheart."

I roll my eyes at the nickname and walk towards the backseat of the car. Whistling rings through the air, causing me to snap my head back. Chris is standing in the same spot, looking me up and down with his bottom lip between his teeth.

"Pervert." I mumble, lifting myself onto the seat and start crawling over towards the opposite side of the car.

Before I can even get to my seat, I leap forward with a yelp emitting from my mouth. My head shoots back, my eyes locking with Chris'. He's got that same devilish grin on his face that makes me want to drop my panties.

"What's wrong?" My mom asks from the front seat.

"He-" I start, only to be cut off by Chris.

"She hit her knee on the door."

I glare at him as he climbs in next to me. He shoots me a wink, which I only huff at. I lean over and pinch his arm, causing him to yank it away from me.

"What was that for?" He questions.

"You pinched my ass!" I whisper shout, appalled by his behavior, yet at the same time, turned on.

"Don't act like you didn't like it." He whispers back, his tongue running over his teeth.

I simply shut up, unable to disagree because he's right. I did like it. In fact, I loved it. I roll my eyes once more, annoyance flooding my veins. Not annoyed at him, more so at myself for being so affected by him. It's not right. I close my eyes and lean my head against the window, hoping sleep overcomes me.

I don't know how long it's been before my eyes flutter open, the sound of faint music waking me. My eyes squint, adjusting to the streetlamps that shine as we pass by them. I'm suddenly very aware of a warmth to my right. Looking over, I see Chris sat next to me rather than the opposite window like he was before.

"What are you doing?" I ask, my voice coming out in a low tone.

He looks over at me with furrowed eyebrows, "Minding my business. You should try it sometime, baby."

"Don't be a dick. I just woke up and you're basically sitting on top of me." I scoff, spreading my legs to push his away from me and give myself more room.

That might not have been a good idea. Chris' eyes trail down my body, boring into my parted thighs. I can practically see the gears turning in his head. He, yet again, smirks at me, licking his lips.

He leans into my ear, his warm breath fanning my ear, his voice husky. "Admit it, sweetheart. You'd love it if I was on top of you."

His hand brushes the top of my thigh, his fingertips lightly grazing my bare skin. I have to bite my lip to hold back the breathy moan that threatens to escape due to his words and his touch. When I don't say anything, his hand presses more firmly into me. Very slowly, his hand trails higher and higher, applying the same amount of pressure the whole way up. Today would be the day that I chose to wear a skirt.

My eyes are wide as I watch his hand, my lips slightly parting. I can feel the heat rushing to my face, as well as my core. I feel like I'm on fire. I quickly look at him and notice his gaze hasn't wavered from my face, his brain soaking in my reaction to his movements, trying to burn the image in his mind, so he never forgets it.

A shaky breath leaves my mouth as his hand slides under my skirt, disappearing to do God knows what. I'm stuck in place, not daring to move. I want to see how far he's going to take this; I don't want him to stop. I let out a small gasp as his fingers make contact with my clothed pussy. But just as quick as they're there, a voice moves through the air, and they're gone.

"Are you guys hungry?" His dad asks us, completely oblivious to what his son was doing.

Chris looks at me, awaiting an answer. I gulp, shaking my head, "N-no."

A small chuckle leaves Chris' mouth, his lips brushing against my ear. "I can feel how wet you are. Makes me want to bend you over the console and devour you."

"Oh my God." I mutter, my ears growing hot as I squeeze my legs shut and turn as much as I can to the door.

There's no way I can make it through this trip, absolutely no way. If he keeps this up, I'm going to lose it. I don't even know what he's trying to get out of this. Is he trying to humiliate me? Does he actually want to fuck? I groan, tossing my head back. I'm so screwed.

--

After what felt like the longest car ride of my life, we finally get to our destination. Our parents wanted to stop a get something to eat, so it took even longer to get to the hotel. We make our way inside, bags on top of bags in our hands. After we get checked in, my mom hands me a room key.

"You guys can head up, me and Jerry are going to make a quick pitstop." She informs Chris and me.

I look at her with an 'are you serious?' look, before my eyes subconsciously advert to Chris. He smiles at her and nods, letting them walk off to wherever. I keep my mouth shut and head to the elevators, him following my tail.

We get to the elevator and only have to wait a moment before the doors open. Walking inside, I glance at the room key to confirm the floor level. Without a word, I press the number '6', the doors shutting almost instantly.

"You know-" Chris begins, a slight curve on his lips. "You can lie to yourself all you want, but I can see it all over you. You want me as bad as I want you."

I harshly swallow, looking for the right words to say. Again, I'm left stuck stupid. How does he do this? The simplest statements leave me dazed and practically malfunctioning. He slowly walks over to me, backing me into the wall. I stare up at him, anticipating his every move. His body is pressed firmly against mine, causing me to shiver. His face is millimeters from mine. He lifts his free hand, wrapping it around my neck. My breath catches in my throat, my core throbbing at the small yet extreme gesture.

His fingertips slowly trail upwards, grazing over my chin. His thumb rubs across my lips, putting pressure on my bottom one and gently pulling it down. My lips are parted for just a moment before my bottom lips bounces back after he removes his finger. His hand grasps my jaw, his face inching closer and closer to mine.

"I'm going to destroy you." He whispers against my lips.

Before anything else can take place, the elevator dings and the doors open, snapping me from the trance he always seems to put me in. I quickly compose myself and scurry out of there, following the signs on the walls to get to our room. Once I get there, I swipe the card, running in the second the light clicks green. Chris has to catch the door with his foot, because I was not waiting for him.

Getting in, I take my time to admire the place. Everything looks so elegant and luxury. Since our parents are off doing whatever, I take the liberty to choose my bedroom for the week. The first one I walk into is amazing, and I'm satisfied with it. Tossing my bags at the foot of the bed, I lay back on it, stretching my limbs out. My short-lived peace disturbed when Chris comes strolling in with his bags.

"I already got dibs on this room." I say, pushing myself up on my elbows.

He snickers, "Jokes on you, we're roomies now."

"Excuse me?" I gape at him, "Yeah, no."

"Actually, we are. This is a two-bedroom suite."

"Are you serious right now?" I frown.

He hums, "Mhm. As serious as I was about what I said in the elevator."

My face grows hot, and I have to purse my lips to prevent them from curving up into a smile. I'm actually terrible, because why do I love this?

"We're here!" My mom's voice sounds from the living room of the suite.

I let out a breath, slightly relieved, yet slightly disappointed. I'm so conflicted. I can't help but want all the time in the world with Chris, but also never want to be alone with him. I can feel myself losing control, ready to give into the strong temptation. He's not making it easy either.

"I see you guys picked your room." Jerry grins, peeking his head in with a smile.

"As in we have to share?" I question.

"Yeah. I thought your mom told you."

I don't miss Chris' smirk as he listens to us, clearly enjoying the idea of sharing a room. I don't understand why my mother hates me. How could she sign me up for this without even talking to me about it?

"We're all family now, it's no big deal." I hear her chime in as she rounds the corner.

"Yeah, right." I mutter, my face falling at the simple statement.

It's just a slap in the face, a reminder that Chris and I can never be. Regardless of whatever type of relation, it just can't happen. I'll never see them as family, but my mother clearly does. Maybe it's best not to tempt anything.

"I call the right side." Chris smiles at me, our parents now long gone.

"Nice try. You're getting the floor or the couch." I roll my eyes.

He laughs, "Good one, sweetheart. Admit it, you can't wait to share a bed with me."

I only glare at him, a slight pout on my face.

"Cheer up, baby. Just wait until you see I sleep naked." He mutters in my ear, before leaving.

"Fuck me." I whisper to myself, already knowing I'm in for it tonight.

--

After unpacking my things, I head out into the living room. My mother and Jerry are sitting on the sofa, so I take the loveseat. I sit sideways, kicking my legs up across the rest of it. I cross my arms, relaxing, sinking into the plush cushions. Looking around, I notice the both of them are dressed up. Did we have plans that I'm not aware of?

"Are we going somewhere?" I ask, furrowing my eyebrows.

"Oh, no." Jerry shakes his head, "I'm taking your mom out tonight. You and Chris will have the place to yourselves."

Just as he says that Chris strolls around the loveseat. He lifts my feet and sits down, placing them on his lap. I go to pull back, but his grip on me is firm. Without a word, his hands are kneading the soft tissue of my feet. I look up at him, my eyes almost submissive, cause why is he being like this?

"When are you guys leaving?" Chris asks them. 

"Our reservation is at 8."

I glance at the time on my phone, "It's 7:15 now."

They both gasp in unison, instantly getting up to rush out the door.

"You're leaving?!" I shriek, now realizing I'll be left alone with the devil himself.

"Yes, honey. You'll be fine." My mom pats my arm. "You'll have Chris to keep you company. Help yourselves to whatever."

"Make sure you take care of her." Jerry points a finger at his son.

Chris smirks, eyes locking with mine. "You know I will."

I gulp, my eyes watching them leave as they call out quick 'I love you's'. The sound of the door clicking shut practically rattles my brain, my breathing slightly labored. I feel so nervous, already knowing it's going to be a long night.

"Want to watch a movie?" Chris asks me.

My eyes widen in surprise, that's probably the most normal thing he's said to me all day. He's been super flirty and seductive, and it's working so bad. I've never been so conflicted in my life. I know it's not right, and if anyone were to see what's happening, we'd certainly be locked away, but I can't help it. I'm yearning for him. His sultry words and lustful touches leave me throbbing every single time. I feel like I'm going to explode in his presence.

"I'll take that as a yes." He says, before teasing, "Unless you had something else in mind."

I groan, "Just put something on. I need a water."

I get up and saunter to the kitchen, my insides burning at the thought of what can occur tonight. I feel like it's inevitable. At this rate, if he keeps going, I'm folding like origami. I open the fridge and grab two waters out, immediately opening one and downing half of it. I have to practically mentally prepare myself just to go back in there. Once I do, I notice Chris now sitting in the middle of the loveseat. I choose not to say anything this time and simply sit beside him.

He already has a movie started, so we sit in silence as it plays out in front of us. The entire time, my mind is elsewhere. I can't focus on the movie at all. I keep crossing and uncrossing my legs, feeling uncomfortable. I can't get Chris' words out of my head.

I'm going to destroy you.

Oh, how badly I wish for that right now. His hands caressing every inch of my body. His mouth tasting every bit of skin. His body flush against mine. His dick stretching me in all the right ways, drilling into my sweet spot over and over and over. I have to clench my thighs, the inner turmoil growing. I feel like the air around us is thick, making it almost impossible to breathe. Tension running high between us. Surprisingly, we make it through the movie without any slick remarks or unwarranted touches. Part of me is bummed, yet I force the disappointment down, knowing it's for the best.

"Are you hungry?" Chris asks as we both get up from the sofa.

I shake my head, knowing I won't be able to eat with my current state. "No. I think I'm just gonna shower and hit the sheets."

He nods, "Okay."

I walk into our room, grabbing a towel and heading to the conjoined bathroom. I just need a quick shower to soothe me. The sexual frustration built up in me is almost unbearable, I feel feral. After turning the water on and letting it heat up, I strip from my clothes and get in. I stand underneath the showerhead, the hot water trickling down my skin. I stay there, eyes closed, trying to force the craving for Chris away. After a moment, I quickly wash up, then get out.

The bathroom is foggy, steam wafting through the air. The mirror is covered in condensation, I'm unable to see myself. I dry off, wrapping the towel around my body and heading out into the room. I pause in my steps, seeing Chris sprawled out on the bed.

"Sorry. Didn't think you'd be in here." I mutter, suddenly self-conscious being in just a towel.

"All good, sweetheart." He replies, his eyes scanning over me. "Come join me."

I swallow, "I have to get dressed."

"Come here." He repeats, his eyes dark with what I can only assume is lust. 

I stand still, staring at him. I'm actually contemplating crawling into bed with my stepbrother, naked. There's no way I'm doing this. I keep cursing myself in my head as my feet bring me to the side of the bed that he's lying on. I stand there, looking down at him while he stares up at me. His hand comes out, his fingertips brushing against the hem of the towel, just like before. My heart is beating out of my chest right now, I wouldn't be surprised if it just exploded.

I'm taken by surprise when he swiftly grabs ahold of my wait, pulling me onto his lap. My thighs straddle his, my hands nervously keeping hold of my towel in attempt to keep it secure. However, my efforts prove futile when his hands grab the top of it, slowly unraveling it and letting it fall from my torso. I feel dizzy, my entire chest exposed to him. My stomach tightens, my veins flooded with anticipation.

"You're so pretty." He whispers, his fingers running over my abdomen.

"Thank you." I whisper back, my desire for him taking over me completely.

I can't think of anything else except for this moment right now, and what's bound to take place. His hands run up my arms and I can feel the goosebumps littering my skin. My breathing is erratic, I can't focus.

"Do I make you nervous?" He asks, his head tilted slightly.

I shake my head, unable to form words.

"Are you lying to me?"

My mouth has run dry. I can't even speak. My mind is hazy with lust. I want him so bad. I can feel the wetness pooling in between my legs, my core aching for his touch. He licks his lips as his eyes rake over my body. His hands run over my shoulders and down my chest, inevitably taking hold of my breasts. I can't help the whimper that falls from my lips. Finally. He grips the plush skin, squeezing gently yet firm. He moves them in circular motions, his palms applying just the right pressure to my sensitive buds.

"So perfect." He mumbles, his voice raspy.

My head lolls to the side, indulging in the feeling of his hands on me. My eyes flutter closed as he continues to knead them. A gasp slips from me when I feel his warm, wet mouth wrap around one of my nipples. My back involuntarily arches into him, his face full of chest. His touch becomes hungrier, his mouth now harshly sucking while his fingers work the opposite tit. Soft moans escape my mouth, my pussy throbbing for him.

He pulls away from my chest, his hands gliding up my back. I can feel his bulge beneath me, and I have to fight the urge to grind against it. He suddenly pulls me down, an abrupt moan emitting from my throat as the quick movement causes his dick to rub against my clit. His hand grabs ahold of my jaw, pulling my face into his.

He stares at my face, his eyes trying to read my emotions. "Say you want this."

I nod.

"Say it."

"I want this." I reply, my voice quiet yet sure.

With that, his lips smash into mine. Our mouths move together, hungry and feverish. Our tongues fighting for dominance, taking turns exploring one another's mouths. Our heads turn every which way, allowing more access. Our teeth clash together, saliva practically dripping out of our mouths. My hands run through his hair while his run along my body, pulling me impossibly closer.

Without one swift motion, I'm lying on my back with Chris towering over me. My towel is now completely removed, lying next to us on the bed. His hand turns my head to the side, his mouth now working on my neck. His tongue licking over the skin, teeth biting down, sucking every part. My breathing is quick, my body tingling with a burning sensation, desperate for more.

"Chris." I breathe out in a whine.

He hums, "Mm, I knew you couldn't resist me."

"Please." I whine again.

"Begging me like such a good girl, just like I said." He smirks against my skin, moving down my chest.

My hands grip at the back of his shirt, tugging at it, wanting to feel his skin on mine. He gets the hint and sits up, removing it with ease. His hands move down to his sweats, yanking the drawstring loose. In one quick movement, he's left in his boxers. I can see his dick fighting against his boxers, begging to be released. I can't help but reach out and palm him through the cloth.

He tosses his head back with a low moan, "Fuck."

His hand reaches forward, spreading my legs open for him. My pussy on show, leaking with arousal. He's practically drooling at the sight before him. His fingers trail up my thigh in an agonizingly slow pace, leaving my hips thrusting up for just the slightest touch.

"So needy." He smirks, "Such a naughty girl."

Finally, his fingers make contact with my aching clit, eliciting a long moan from me. He rubs it in slow circles, making my body tremble with every movement. He stops for a brief moment as he plunges a finger into my entrance, my body jolting from the sudden sensation.

"So, fucking wet." He groans in contentment.

His finger continues pumping in and out me with his thumb rubbing my clit, and I can't help but grind into his hand. It feels so good, but I want more. To my dissatisfaction, he pulls away, leaving me to cry out at the loss of pleasure. I watch as he pulls his boxers off, tossing them with his sweatpants. His fully erect dick flies up, slapping his stomach. His tip is an angry red, needy for stimulation. I saw it in the shower, but now, up close and personal, I am clenching, ready to wrap around him.

His hands grip my hips, flipping me onto my side. He takes ahold of my thigh, hiking it up for better access. His opposite hand grabs ahold of his cock, stroking it before rubbing the tip through my folds. I bite my lip, my stomach tightening, bracing for penetration, my pussy desperate for it. He slowly sinks into me, fully bottoming out. My jaw falls slack, my mouth vocalizing a drawled-out moan. He shudders inside of me, his eyes closing at the feeling of my pussy snugly swallowing him.

His thrusts are slow and hard, setting a rhythm. One of my hands clench the sheets, the other one rubbing his stomach. My eyes squeeze shut, the pressure instantly building in my stomach. I've been waiting for this all day. His free hand runs up my back and around my chest, harshly squeezing my tit. Lewd moans fill the room; him grunting with every deep thrust, constant whines falling from my lips.

"Taking me so well. Just like a good little slut." He says, his hand moving from my boob to my neck.

His strokes pick up in speed, the bed shaking with every thrust. The knot in my stomach continues to grow, my orgasm sneaking up on me faster than ever. He's fucking me so good. I can't hold back the noises he's pulling out of me. The tip of his dick jams into my sweet spot with just the right amount of force. I'm unraveling fairly quickly. It's so wrong but it feels so right.

"Yes, right there." I cry out, clenching around him. "F-fuck, fuck, fuck."

"You close, baby? Gonna cum all over my cock, hm?" He groans out, his body leaning over mine.

"Fuck y-yes. God, please don't stop." I moan, my loud voice bouncing off the walls.

He starts fucking into me even faster, the pleasure almost overwhelming. "I don't plan on it."

My legs shake below him, my knuckles gripping the sheets until they're white. His breath on the back of my neck, his moaning in my ear, both sending me over the edge. My body convulses as euphoria takes over. Pornographic moans leave my mouth as I clench around him, letting go. My juices flowing out, completely coating his dick and dripping down the both of us.

"You feel so good." He whines, "Made just for me."

The bliss is at an all-time high, my mind completely fogged with lust for him. I never want this night to end.

"Mm, want you to fill me up." I whine, pushing back onto him, meeting his thrusts.

His hips sputter as he moans, "Yeah? Filthy little slut wants her stepbrother's baby in her?"

I can't even respond, my mouth hung open as screams leave it. It happens so suddenly, another wave of pleasure washing over me at his words. My hand clings to him, wanting to feel all of him. I'm trembling underneath him as my second orgasm hits. His groans grow louder as his thrusts grow sloppy. With just a few more strokes, his body is heaving over mine as he empties himself inside of me. He pumps a few more times, before completely pulling out and sitting back. Both of us struggle to catch our breaths, exerted from that entire moment.

Suddenly, I'm crying out again as he shoves two fingers into me, pushing his cum back in. "Aht, aht! Can't have that."

I'm still shaking with aftershocks when he lies down beside me, his fingers making their way to my lips and into my mouth. My tongue glides over them, sucking off our mixture. He pulls them away with a groan and turns my head towards his. He places another kiss on my lips; hard and passionate.

"We should probably get dressed." I breathe out after a minute.

"No, just stay like this for a little bit longer. I'll make sure it's taken care of before they get back." He whispers, pulling me into him.

I want to protest, but I'm tired and the thought of sleeping in his arms makes my stomach flutter. So, that's what I do.

--

a/n : ah bye why do i need this so bad? hope you like it! if it's not for you, just shut up k thanks xx

[wildflowerblurbs]

A Painful Step Towards Healing | Isaac Rhoades

Isaac Rhoades x GN! Reader

CW: mentions of past abuse/unhealthy relationships, trauma caused by abuse/unhealthy relationships, yelling, arguments, hurt/comfort

-

Trauma isn’t a simple thing, no matter how much you wished it was.

You’re in a committed relationship with the man who gave you a second chance at life. You wake up in his arms without the fear of having your belongings thrown out by the landlord before kicking you out for not paying rent on time. You eat your meals with him without uncertainty of when your next meal will be or needing to ration out your food to last weeks at a time. You live your life knowing that you have a future with him. You not only have a family with him, but a family that loves you.

You’ve escaped the hell that you were living, so why? 

Why are you currently hyperventilating on your shared bathroom floor? 

Why can’t you stop the tears that are blurring your vision and staining the carpet below you?

Why couldn’t you keep your composure when the man that you love so much lost his temper and raised his voice at you?

Isaac is not my father. He’d never hurt me. Isaac is not my father. He’d never hurt me. 

You replayed these phrases in your head like a mantra, scolding yourself for even needing to make that clarification to yourself. Isaac had been having a stressful day. People snap sometimes and it’s ok. It’s ok. It’s ok. 

It was your fault anyway. You’d insisted on having dinner with him when he’d told you that he’d skip dinner to continue working on a particularly hard case he’d gotten recently. You kept pushing when you shouldn’t have. It was your selfishness that got you into this situation. It was your fault. 

Perhaps that’s why you retreated into the bathroom after promptly apologizing for everything yet nothing at all. You weren’t even sure of what you’d said to him. As soon as you felt the panic spike through your body, you’d excused yourself as quickly as you possibly could. 

It took everything within you to stay quiet as the fears and feelings you often experienced as a child rushed back to you. Issac knew that your childhood wasn’t the happiest but you rarely discussed the details. You didn’t want him to feel like he needed to be careful around you. He always looked so fond when he talked about his mother’s traditions or his father’s teachings and you didn’t want to take that away from him. Truthfully, you weren’t even triggered by his experiences. His parent’s love for him had nothing to do with the unhealthy love your parents had given you. There was no reason why it’d bother you. There’s no reason why anything Isaac did would incite these feelings within you. Or at least you thought. 

This wasn’t even the first time he’d raised his voice at you. He’d been pretty agitated when you insisted on pursuing a relationship with him despite the dangers. He’d been harsh to you before when talking about his past was still considered to be none of your business. There was no reason as to why his anger was affecting you so much now and you hated yourself for reacting this way. 

Here you were, spiraling with thoughts of self-hatred and fear. 

Will he leave me if I’m too annoying? 

I should’ve left him alone, now he hates me.

He hates me. He hates me. He hates—

A sudden urgent succession of knocks on the door interrupts your thoughts. The door opens before you’re able to compose yourself or tell him to give you a moment. Telling by the worried look of his face and the speed at which the door opens, you figure that he’d been knocking for longer than you had realized. 

Time seemed to stop the moment your tear-filled eyes locked with his. You wanted to crawl into a hole from how mortified and embarrassed you felt at being caught for overreacting to such a small thing. 

You quickly get up from the floor, wiping the tears from your eyes with shaky hands. 

“I apologize for barging in. You weren’t responding and I… I was worried something had happened to you. It seemed like you were struggling to breathe; I didn’t know what to do.”

Before he has the chance to take your shaky hands into his and inspect your current state, you move away.

“Y-you don’t need to apologize. I’m sorry for causing such a—“ 

“No, I am the one who needs to apologize. I shouldn’t have taken out my frustration on you when you were only trying to care for me. I should’ve thought about how my words would affect you. Please don’t ignore your own feelings. You more than have the right to feel upset right now. It’s only natural that you would be.” 

Shock was the only explanation for your sudden collapse. The shock of hearing the words you’d always wanted to hear from those that had hurt you from the one person who had only given you love destroyed the last bit of composure you had. 

Isaac joins you on the floor, bringing you close to his chest and holding you in the warmest embrace you’ve ever experienced. His hand rests in your hair, stroking it gently as you cry in his arms. His case didn’t matter right now, nor did anything else that could possibly require him to leave your side in this moment. He’d needed you so many times in the past. It was his turn to return the favor. 

“I- I was so scared,” you managed to speak in between sobs. Your hands found themselves holding onto his shirt, finding security in the firmness of your grip of him. 

Your actions only made Isaac pull you closer, “It’s ok, everything is going to be ok.” He lifts your chin, his eyes meeting yours, “I will do everything in my power to make sure of it.” 

This wasn’t the first time you’ve heard such words and promises from someone, but for the first time in your life, they don’t ring hollow. He wasn’t just trying to placate you. He meant every single word. 

You hold his gaze for a moment, deciding that you’ve hidden yourself away for far too long. He was Isaac Rhoades, the man you decided to spend the rest of your life with. The man who you trust with your life, who gave you a second chance at life. If there was anyone in the world who you could trust to handle your own demons, it was certainly him.

“…Isaac…have you ever wondered why I left home?” 

[pyro-les]

Love in the darkest hour - Rio Vidal X Reader

Second part of the Bad Omen series (Can be read as stand alone but I would reccomend reading Bad Omen first for context)

1.8K words - Warnings: panic/anxiety attacks.

Taglist: @thecavalrywife @hannah-0730 @believe-in-magic13 @jenniferjareauwife @wandasreallover @thesharkwhalewhoohooooo @acutenobody

A/N: Not proofread, sorry guys it's too long and I'm too tired, if there is typos though do let me know. I think this may be my longest fic apart from bad omen itself so thats cool, also if anyone would like to be added to the taglist please let me know!

Y/N finally felt accepted, for the first time in centuries she wasn't afraid or guilt ridden instead filled only with love and hope. That's what Rio had done for her, her simple act of acceptance had meant so much to her. She had never really dreamt much of love, of course she had always thought it would be nice but she hadn't realised how much she would crave to hold the one she loved the most until she had met Rio.

The woman had completely changed the way she acted, she no longer felt ashamed of her powers, instead she used them as a warning for Rio, telling her when someone's time was near so she knew beforehand to be ready for the cosmic pull to the wandering souls. It had been good to know she was helping her lover, her powers finally being appreciated and used foe good. A part of her felt a bit sad anytime she had to leave for her role as lady death, Y/N knew better than anyone how important death was in the human life and cycle of nature yet whenever her lover had to leave even if only for a few hours she felt a small amount of annoyance.

Time worked differently for Rio while she collected souls, the plain between this realm and the next had a different time scale entirely making it alot longer for her than it was back on earth but there were many souls to collect and she couldn't leave them for too long without guiding them to the other side. Yet to Y/N the small time she was away felt like eons. She had lived for centuries and yet that felt like nothing compared to the time spent without Rio. She had never really dreamt of love but now she can't imagine a world without it.

However even with all of the love Rio gave her Y/N still felt guilty sometimes. The centuries of being blamed and hated because of her powers had engraved a deep self hatred on her soul. No matter how many times Rio reassured her or told her not to hate her powers there was still a part of Y/N that refused to yield, a part of her that would never let go of that guilt. It wasn't often this part of her showed itself anymore but the times it did it wasn't pretty, usually Y/N had Rio to help her calm down, she held Y/N close while she told her over and over again how it wasn't her fault and that even if everyone else turned their back on Y/N Rio never would.

Today however was not one of those times. Instead of being held in Rio's arms as she reassured the trembling witch that she was blameless she was sitting on the floor of their small home her arms wrapped painfully tight around her knees that had been drawn up into her chest as she leaned back against the sofa as she tried and failed to calm her breathing. Panic attacks were no new thing to Y/N but they never seemed to get easier for her especially when the only thing that could help her was no where in sight.

Y/N by no means blamed Rio for not being there, she knew better than anyone the importance of her job, you can't exactly tell death herself to stop reaping souls just because one person was having an emotional breakdown. That being said she certainly was not happy that her stupid mind decided to take this very moment to start doubting herself, her thoughts continously spiralling into a crescendo of self hatred and guilt. She didn't even know what had started this stupid crash of emotions, she had been fine earlier in the day simply watching TV and enjoying some nice time alone, she had even baked some cookies excited for Rio to come home later to try them. But what had just been a small whisper in the back of her mind, an echo of doubt had built up into a loud scream, telling Y/N she wasn't good enough, that she should be doing something to repay for all the lives she caused to cease.

Now every slight thought turned against her, even her hopes for Rio to return home soon turned to her blaming herself for being too weak, that she deserved all the pain because she wasn't strong enough to resist it or even hold it off until Rio returned.

So she was sat on the floor, shaking as she leaned her back against the sofa as she tried her hardest to hold herself as tight as possible until Rio could herself. All she wanted was for Rio to hold her close as she rested her head on her chest, she needed to know someone was here for her, that even just one person cared about her even if the rest of the world was against her. Rio was her light and that's all she needed when surrounded by all this horrific darkness that had consumed her for what could have been hours or minutes, Y/N really had no idea.

Fortunately Rio would return soon, her job for the day done. She leisurely made her way through the forest that surrounded their home, unaware of the state her lover was in. As she finally reached her home Rio walked into the house with a smile on her face, casually hanging up her coat ad she called out to her lover only pausing when she heard no answer, she tentatively called out her name again with more curiosity and a slight hint of doubt.

She slowly walked towards the living room as Rio reached out to feel the others powers, effectively locating her and assuring she was safe. As she got closer she could hear quiet rugged breathes telling Rio all she had to know as to what was going on. Panic and anxiety attacks were no new thing for Y/N and almost four years in to their relationship she was well acquainted with the effect they had on Y/N and how to help her with them.

Seeing Y/N curled in on herself beside the sofa Rio slowly sat next to her knowing she had barely noticed her entering as Y/N was so clearly absorbed by her own traitorous thoughts. Carefully bringing her hands to Y/N's sides Rio slowly shifted her into her own lap, the woman automatically leaning into her almost immediately. Y/N may have mentally been completely out of it but her body was still here and too well accustomed to the situation to not to know what to do.

Rio started gently brushing her hand through Y/N's hair as her other arm stayed wrapped gently around her waist as she smoothly whispered small words of reassurance to her lover. Slowly but surely Y/N's breath started to calm as her thoughts of self hatred and guilt began to clear too.

Rio knew she was getting closer to a relaxed state and gently pulled her up against her just a bit so Y/N could look up at her as she began to open her eyes. "Y/N, sweetheart, are you alright?" She asked her voice uncharacteristically soft. Rio may have seemed evil and cold to the rest of the world but in moments like these she could be no further from it.

"I'm starting to be." Y/N eventually croaked out, her voice thick along with her still slightly uneven breaths.

Rio nodded with a soft hum "Do you need more time love?" She asked, if Y/N was content just sitting her for awhile longer than so was she but if she needed to get up and eat or just watch some TV together to get her mind off of the guilt than that is what she would do. Rio's only preference was truly just to do whatever Y/N needed.

"Can we watch something?" Y/N asked tentatively, almost as if she was afraid Rio would reject the idea.

"Of course we can, whatever you would like to do we shall darling" Rio replied smoothly.

Y/N took a moment to glance around, clearly deciding on if she wanted to physically move or not. She could see the TV from here yes and although she was quite comfortable she was sure Rio probably wouldn't be staying in this position much longer. "Can we move to the sofa?" Y/N asked unsurely even though the answer was obvious.

Rio simply nodded, grabbing onto Y/N's hand as she released her from her hold knowing she would need some form of contact even as they changed position. Y/N slowly stood up as she held Rio's hand loosely, a good sign that she was starting to calm down even more, her grasp gentle, the touch just a reminder she was there instead of the death grip she had held previously.

They slowly repositioned so that Rio was laying on her back across the sofa, her head propped gently against a pillow just so she could see the screen as Y/N draped her body over top of her lovers so that she could hold her close as her head layed to the side across her chest so she could both snuggle into her love and watch the TV. Realising she had left the remote on the table Rio sighed as she lazily flicked her hand causing the remote to reapear in her grasp.

Turning on the TV Rio asked what Y/N wanted to watch, scrolling through their watch list as Y/N lazily hummed what seemed like a vague "I dunno." Scanning through a range of different shows Rio immediately ruled out anything that required too much concentrating, immediately knocking off anything sci-fi aswell as anything they had not yet watched off the list. Scrolling through more Rio made new criteria for what to watch in her head: Nothing too long, nothing too loud, nothing too important. She debated putting on a nice anime movie, a ghibli film she knew Y/N would like before deciding that it was too long and the pair would likely fall asleep before the end as exhaustion was weighing heavy on them both. Eventually Rio decided on putting on Avatar the last airbender again, it was funny, easy to follow along to and if they fell asleep she knew Y/N was already sure on the plot having watched it countless times before.

They sat quietly as they watched, neither woman making a sound besides the odd chuckle here and there. They didn't have to say anything though, it was clear they were both content and at ease, all that was said was a small exchange of words, an "I love you Rio" softly spoken by Y/N before she replied with a quiet "I love you too sweetheart" as Rio planted a small kiss to the top of her head.

[bumblebeesfromvenus]

Simon relationship hcs ♡

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I may have gone a little off the rails, and this sort of turned into a little bit of a psychoanalysis for Simon lol

I just had a lot to say, okay

Hope you like it <3

The ask is here ♡

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The only way I can ever see Simon getting in a relationship is through friendship.

First of all, no one would realistically ever approach him, he's a scary looking fella. I know I would be scared shitless lmao (love you, simmy)

The tall, dark and broody aura with cold brown eyes, almost like the freezing dirt you'll be buried in if you look for a second too long. Or that's what it feels like. The skull mask doesn't help either, it's sort of odd, but who are we to judge, right?

I know a lot of people say he doesn’t know how to talk to people, and while I think that is definitely true to an extent, I also think that he just doesn't want to. He doesn't see the point in it, and that's the thing.

This man can't do anything without reason. There needs to he a reason or a point to doing something, otherwise it's just a waste of time in his eyes.

The only exception is going out with the boys or hanging out occasionally. I think he very much feels like he doesn't deserve happiness, so any simple pleasures are immediately shut down.

I mean, this man is literally the king of self-destructive behavior.

He locks himself away on leave, again, only does what he needs to on base (or what he feels he needs to), and that's it.

But he's also very responsible, so I don't think he'd ever do anything self destructive wise that would be considered irresponsible.

He takes care of himself on a physical level, and he needs to, but his mind is an absolute train wreck. His job keeps him in check, and that's good.

Otherwise, he'd be down a hole the size of the Mariana trench.

He chronically needs to have noise playing. Whether that's music, a movie, or just the dishwasher running, just something. He would spiral so fast if he had time to be alone with his thoughts, so he keeps himself busy.

In comes Riley (the best boy). Simon has something to do, to busy himself with, and he actually gets outside sometimes because of the pup. He's got a cuddle buddy, a weighted blanket, and a steady presence in his life all at once. Dog of the year award goes to Riley.

Anyway, you somehow got into their little circle. Probably through Johnny or Kyle. They start taking you along to the nights at the pub or the football games at one of their flats because you're fun to hangout with. They like to have you around and let me tell you, Simon is not thrilled at first.

How dare you just inject yourself into their group, and come along during their hangouts. He's annoyed. Not at you, necessarily, but just that he needs to deal with change now. Which isn't usually a problem considering he needs to be kept spontaneous and alert for his job, but once he's away from that, change is like his worst enemy. He hates it.

Things are fine like this, good almost, why do they need to change? He's very cold and sharp with you for the first few months, he just needs time. He sees that you're not a threat after a while.

You didn't disrupt their dynamic as much as he thought you would. You're a fun addition, but you don't steal all the attention from his friends. You know when to back off. After a hard mission, they all need to decompress, and they just can't guarantee they won't snap at you and hurt your feelings.

You respect it, and with a quick "don't be stupid. Stay safe" text the conversation is done.

You don't ask about their job. You don't really care what they do, and they obviously don't feel comfortable telling you too much, but as long as they come back safe, you're good.

You bring a more caring presence into the group, something which they all need desperately. Simon is caught off guard. He never expected something like this, but it feels... nice. We all know you melted his cold heart and he's putty.

But not an overexaggerated amount, just right where he can crack a smile or huff a laugh, and it doesn't feel weird. He even starts to hang out one-on-one with you. It starts off somewhere in public, a cafe or the local pub. The idea of coming to your flat is still a little uncomfortable inside his chest, but you don't push. You're just happy to spend time with him.

And then, out of nowhere, he invites you to his flat. All on his own, comfortably, and you have to stop yourself from being too excited that you finally cracked him.

Simon does feel a little nervous when you first get there, but you're so chill about it (you're probably freaking out on the inside as well), and you just hang out like you normally would.

Riley is so excited to have a new friend!!! No matter how old he is, he jumps around like a puppy, overjoyed to get a visitor.

The second he sees how you're acting with Riley, he's smitten. Not necessarily in a romantic way just yet. You're giving him scratches and pets and talking in The Doggy Voice and it makes Simon's heart all fuzzy.

Riley is essentially his best friend and family, having been there through some of his worst times and to see how infatuated his pup is with you makes him so happy.

I mean, now you just have to come over more often, right?

He always talks about how Riley misses you (all an excuse, he misses you, but he won't say that) and that you need to come over to hangout soon.

When he's deployed again, he leaves Riley with you. That's the equivalent of someone trusting you with their newborn child for Simon, but he trusts you fully. You've earned his trust, respect, and adoration. (Cue Simon giving Riley a serious pep talk to keep you safe but it all slides off, Riley's got smooth brain)

When he comes by to pick Riley up and he steps inside your home for the first time, he gets smacked in the face with a feeling he can only describe as home. It's so warm and cozy and you.

That's when he knows he's fucked. He never wants to leave. It's so much better here, with you and Riley, than his flat. Sure, he can call that home too, but not in the way he can call you home.

It's a very subtle love that slowly starts to bubble up. He enjoyed being your friend, you made him feel normal for once in a while. He was just a guy with a job and friends. Not lieutenant Riley. But how could he have not fallen for you? He wants to be more than just friends, he wants to be yours.

He's never felt more taken care of than when he's with you, and he's slowly letting himself feel the good things again. And you're the best thing. For him and Riley. The pup probably thinks you're his mum already tbh

He gets touchier too. An arm slung around your shoulders, your thighs touching when he's sitting next to you or brushing his fingers against yours. He craves your touch so bad, he even starts hugging and the boys absolutely lose their minds

He feels like you're soothing all that has ever made him feel pain or weird. So, basically, he's utterly in love with you. But he will never ever say a word about it. His fear of your potential rejection almost paralyzes him.

He can't lose you and he'd rather stay silent about his feelings than mess up what you have.

Now, the boys are trying to get into his thick skull that you're also head over heels for him, but he's so far in denial, you could call him a crocodile ( hehe de-nile, get it?)

You confess. Your willpower just can't rival Simon's, and you crumble. How much you like him, how amazing he is in your eyes and how when he came to pick up Riley you almost felt like a little family.

And at that, he breaks. He doesn't know what he's doing, he's never been in love before, he's walking in the dark but he can't care about that when it feels so right. I imagine he probably just stares at you for a while while you're sweating buckets because he doesn't know what to do.

Does he say something? Does he kiss you? Does he hug you? Does he propose-

He's so caught up in his head, playing all kinds of different scenarios that he forgets that he didn't answer you.

Simon gently pulls you into a hug and you can feel the love oozing from his touch. He's not a man of many words, so all he says is a quiet

"be mine."

And the deal is sealed, ladies and gents!!! You just hold each other for a while, feeling the relief wash over your hearts.

Simon loves so fully it makes my heart all fuzzy just thinking about it.

It may not seem like that to other people, but he loves you so much it's insanity. Now, he's not about any grand gesture but the little things that will make your life that much easier. Of course you do get the occasional bouquet and don't get me started on the dates he takes you on, but he will do the dishes after dinner.

He'll fold the laundry. He'll feed the dog. He'll sweep the living room. He'll grocery shopping. And if you're someone who tends to get a messy room very quickly (like me lol) He'll help you set up a system to keep it functioning and neat.

Simon brings the structure, helping you get through your days better while you show how him to enjoy things.

The little things. Like the little dance parties you have with Riley. Like the late nights with the moon shining down on you. Like the sunny day in the park that led to the best afternoon nap ever. You balance each other perfectly, and Simon loves that about you.

You loosen him up. He's still Simon, and that's perfect, but seeing him crack a smile more often doesn't only warm your heart, but the ones of his boys, too.

He's not big on PDA but at home he has now issues with showing how much he loves you. A kiss here, a peck there- he can't ever pass up an opportunity to kiss you.

Now jealousy.... I do think he gets a little more secure the longer you are together but he will still kill anyone with his stares that dares to even look at you suggestively.

He's very possessive. He's always been possessive, not wanting to share with his brother or being very particular about who gets to touch his things. But you? Christ, that's another level. You belong to his heart, and not in a weird objectifying way. You chose him despite everything that he was and is and you're willingly his so of course he won't let you go as long as you want to stay.

It still baffles him everytime when some bloke comes up to you, with Simon obviously being pressed to your side, and asks for your number. He always had the problem of being noticed a lot with his size and now he's suddenly air??

He'll step in everytime, pulling you closer and wrapping himself fully around you. Simon will definitely say something as well, but his absolute favorite thing is when you beat him to it.

"I'm taken, Thank you. I'm very happy with Simon. Say hello, Simon!"

You smile innocently at the drunk man in front of you just to make it extra awkward and Simon has the biggest grin underneath his mask before he presses a kiss to your temple.

What you didn't see was the death glare Simon shot him, making him scramble away to presumably bother another poor woman.

He can get overly jealous if you don't get the hint sometimes, but he would never ever take that out on you. He'll be grumbly for the day until you can get out of him what the problem is.

But at the end of the day, you're in his bed and that's all the reassurance he needs.

He loves cuddling you. He'll knock out in seconds if you're in his arms or vice versa. He prefers to be the big spoon because he needs you pressed against his chest, but he won't deny you the pleasure of being his lovely jetpack.

Simon LOVES to get kissed on the cheek. It's so sweet to him, a little token of your appreciation or a good luck smooch. It makes his nose scrunch up slightly and it's the cutest thing ever.

For you, he adores placing little pecks on your nose. Mainly because you complain that it tickles and he thinks you look adorable, but nothing can beat your lips on his.

Holds your hand in his sleep. It's more of a subconscious thing, but it's so endearing. You're not sure if Simon knows that he does it. You haven't told him. You're just gonna keep this sweet little secret to yourself.

You'll end up getting married because he knows you're the one. He doesn't want anyone else ever.

You're all he needs and wants.

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If you want my NSFW hcs on Simon, just pop into my inbox and ask for it!! This post is already so long, I'll make a separate one for the spicy stuff if you want it :)

More Cod works and other stuff --> 🐝💫

~Fi 🩷

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[livesworthlivingau]

Behind the Vale Chapter 33

Spoilers for ISAT/Two Hats below! CW: Self Loathing, Mental Spiraling, Pining, Whatever is the next step past pining?

[You sit alone in one of the few tents everyone had set up for the night. Everyone was still eating together around the fire when you excused yourself, saying you needed to turn in for the night... You can still feel the sensation of her hand in yours, as if it had been burned into your skin. Even through your glove and her roughly calloused skin, her grip felt warm. Firm yet gentle... You stare at your hand for a long while, alone in your tent you'd eventually be sharing with her and Flare. You perk up as the tent flap opens, revealing Little Flare themself, holding a plate of kebabs.]

"You forgot to eat dinner, dumby! We got a lot of walking to do so you need your strength!" [They remark, unceremoniously shoving the meal into your hands. They turn to leave before stopping in their tracks, putting something together in their head.]

"What are you doing? I thought you were going to bed."

"Couldn't sleep, as per usual..."

"Why are you still in here then?"

"... I guess I just wanted to be alone."

"Should I go?"

"You should return to the others, but, I don't mind if you stay." [They stand in the opening of the tent for a moment, before walking back over to sit down next to you.]

"You okay?"

"Not especially~." [You admit through a forced smile.]

"Why not?" [You can't help but let out a little chuckle... You're unsure how to even explain this to a child.]

"Everything?... I'm sorry little one, I've just... I've been through so much, I'm not sure if 'being okay' is exactly a possibility for me anymore..."

"That's stupid." [You laugh again at their response.]

"Oh is it now~?"

"Yeah! If Frin can be okay then anyone can! No matter how much forever school they went to!"

"Hah!... If only I had your confidence, Flare. I don't believe it's that simple though..."

"Well why isn't it? What's the problem?"

"The problem... is... all of you..." [You finally admit, staring down at the floor for a moment. When your gaze finally returns to them, they look up at you with an absolutely heart broken face.]

"N-No! Wait! N-Not like that! It's not you it's... it's me... it's because of what I did to all of you, how I lost you all, how... how Stardust got their perfect little happy ending..." [You look back at their expression, relieved they don't look quite so hurt anymore.]

"But... We didn't go through any of that! So why would we care?!"

"Because I care! Because what I did wasn't-" [You stop yourself... You're yelling at a child, you take a few deep breaths to compose yourself again, not wanting to upset them.]

"Because it still happened... and what I did is unforgivable..."

"... you sound like stupidfrin, back at the house..."

"I suppose I do, don't I?... Some things never change, no matter how much you try..." [You let out a heavy sigh. Flare gets back to their feet and starts to head out of the tent with a pout... Wonderful, we've upset the child again... Why are we such a blinding idiot... Your self loathing is interrupted as the flap opens once more, this time to Nille peeking inside.]

"Hey, Bon said you were 'being a crabface.' What's up?" [She asks with a tone more confused than anything else. You let out a heavy sigh.]

"I made the mistake of being honest and open with a child."

"Heh, yeah that'll get you. The alternative ain't much better though. They can tell when they're being talked down to, and they sure hate it."

"I'm quite aware... I just have to learn to toe that line again..." [She walks over to sit beside you. You feel her hand slip into yours once more, gripping it tightly as your face burns dark immediately.]

"You're doing great, Vay... I'm really glad you're trying so hard to make it work. Thank you." [You remain silent for a moment, conflicting emotions painting your face before you finally pull your hand away and turning to not face her.]

"Vay?... What's the matter?" [You slink into yourself, hugging your legs to your chest.]

"... Why... Why would you want to be a part of this?... Why do you keep fighting to keep me around?... I don't-" [She grabs your arm suddenly, yanking you towards her to shut you up. You blink and look up at her in confusion, though a blush still painted across your face.]

"Vale, I swear to change, If you don't want to hold my hand because you don't want to, that's fine, but if you start the pity party about not deserving holding my crabbing hand I'm gonna break out the hammer again! Now be honest with me, do you want to hold my crabbing hand?" [Your face burned as hot as it did when it used to be a star. Your words are caught in your throat as you can't quite get over your fluster for the moment. You finally respond with a light nod since your mouth had failed you. She gives you a bright smile, grabbing your hand especially tight, almost crushing now.]

"Wonderful, now come on and have dinner with us!" [She stated, not giving you an option in the matter. She grabs the plate Flare brought you and drags you out of the tent, sitting you down on a large log beside her around the fire. You look across the others as Stardust and the Housemaiden giggle, Flare make another gagging sound, Eclipse smiles brightly and the Researcher just grins... You sit silently and begin to eat your kabobs with your free hand, your face practically pitch lightless the whole time.]

[cheri-2047]

Helloooo do you write for aventurine from hsr?

If you do, would it be possible to request an aventurine x gn reader where he tries to comfort the reader who has religious trauma? If that's a little too complicated then something like aven trying to comfort the reader when they were suddenly reminded about their trauma from parents.

I'm really just desperately trying to make myself feel better 😭 anw the decision is still up to you <3 I hope you have a wonderful day and I hope that you stay safe and healthy, take care!! 💞💐

IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG 😭 I LOST MOTIVATION TO WRITE ANYTHING 😞😞 I’d love to write this for you but I’m not so sure on what religious trauma is so I focused on reader getting triggered by their parents instead, I hope that’s okay. Please don’t hesitate to comment if I mischaracterized him, this is based off what I see online since I don’t play hsr, thank you!

Aventurine comfort:

TAGS: slight mentions of self harm, hair pulling (out of stress) angst, fluff and comfort at the end

CHARACTERS: Aventurine

You were on your way home after meeting up with your parents. It’s been awhile since you last saw them so you thought you’d pay them a visit.

They welcomed you with open arms and were very glad that you came over, your mother excitedly sharing new stories of what’s happened while you moved away and your father just simply listening to you two.

Everything was smooth sailing, you had fun with them, sharing laughs and all until it all went down the drain.

“haha…” you chuckled it off. You hated hearing about the incident that had happened. Your parents brushed it off by now as a joke, but to you it was anything BUT that.

you continued to catch up to them, holding up a smile to get away the memories that ran through your brain.

stop stop stop

You clenched your hands tightly, continuing to laugh along with the “jokes” your parents made. You couldn’t stop thinking about it now, everything that happened, everything that you worked so hard to forget, all of it GONE just because of a few simple words.

“I might be home a bit late sweetheart, please don’t stay up waiting for me. Love you”

Your phone buzzed, a message from your boyfriend, Aventurine.

perfect.

You took this to your advantage, deciding it was a good excuse.

“Ah I need to go home, sorry mama, urgent things at work.”

You made a white lie. You knew it was a bad thing to lie, it would make you a sinner, but you would do anything right now to get away from that so called ‘home’

“I hope you visit again, we love you”

Your father kissed you on the forehead, before both waving off.

You quickly shuffled to your car, driving as fast as you can away from your parent’s home. You were thankful for your boyfriend’s text, not only can you have alone time but you also were able to lie with getting home.

You drove faster, the music louder, anything to try and get the flooding memories away. You clenched the wheel tightly, taking rough turns, completely ignoring your surroundings.

shut up shut up shut up shut up

please.

You reached your home, running to your bedroom, your safe place.

You opened the television, had your snacks around you and all but for some reason, nothing would work. The thoughts still lingered at the back of your mind, the unspoken memories, the things you’ve tried to hard to forget.

Little did you know, you ended up spiraling. Your eyes on the TV, your mind elsewhere. It all came back too quickly, too much for you, the way you were treated, the rules you were forced to have, the life you so desperately wanted to escape, and it felt like you were back. “…y/n… y/n? Hey hey-“

you got started by the sound, only to realize you had been pulling your hair a lot,

“ah- y-you’re back earl-“

He wrapped his arms around you tightly, Aventurine pulled your hands away from your hair,

“Shh, shh… there there”

he rubbed his hand on your back, you leaned into his touch, before looking down to see blood on your fingernails. “What happened?”

Aventurine pulled away, cupping your cheeks and rubbing your hand, careful not to touch the skin you picked.

You didn’t even notice it, but you were crying. You had tears run down your face as if your eyes were waterfalls.

“I visited my parents today”

“mh…did they do anything?”

“they just…mentioned something and I got triggered and started spiraling I guess…”

as you spoke, aventurine started to wrap some bandages around your fingers.

“What did they say?”

(cutting this part off here so you can like…. Explain to him ykyk. He doesn’t know much of your trauma so u explain that you went through that before)

“Oh sweetheart…”

he wiped your tears and kissed you on the cheek, before hugging you and hurrying your face into the crook of his neck.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t know that’s ever happened, why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to remember…”

he frowned and pulled you closer,

“I’m sorry…. If you’re up to going to your parents again, I’ll be here to accompany you. If you don’t, then that’s alright, I understand.”

he kisses the top of your head multiple times, hoping to sooth you with his affection.

He intertwined his hand with yours as he continues to speak reassuring words. “I am always here for you, alright my dearest? If you feel triggered by anything ever again, please don’t hesitate to tell me. I’m never ‘too busy’ for you or any of that. I love you”

you smile as he tells you how he has your back and how he will never leave and swear to always protect you. As you stop crying, he starts to clean up the snacks you left and comes back with more of your favorite foods.

“I got some before I left work”

he chuckles, lying next to you on the bed as you two stayed in the comfort of each others arms.

“I love you, I always will and I will never stop.”

He presses a kiss to your lips, pulling away to see your smile, which makes him smile as well.

A/N: OKAY… so I tried to make it like him as much as I could, I think he’s the type to gen take things seriously in scenarios like this, and the part where he like… pushes(?) your head to his neck for comfort, that means a lot since I hc him to not like being touched there or anyone touching him there either, so yeah. Thanks for requesting and I hope this is ok!! Comments are appreciated (for tips, if I mischaracterized or just to say hi) I hope ure okay dude, if you want more of these feel free to request

[everlastingdreams]

The Weeping Monk x Fem!Reader : Forged Of Fire : Chapter 2

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Story Summary: Raised under the tiranny of your own family, and forced to steal to earn your keep, you struggle to survive. Born from a Fey mother, and a Manblood father who wanted only sons, you are forced to hide your Fey side. When you are ordered to steal from Father Carden by your half-brother, Cassian, your life spirals out of control and you find yourself at the mercy of the Weeping Monk. The life you knew changes drastically when Cassian betrays you in the cruelest of ways. A trade is made, a promise is broken, and a debt must be paid.

Chapter Title: The Betrayal

Notes: /

Warnings: Angst. Hurt. Trauma bonding. Intrafamily violence. Depression. Self-harm. Suicidal thoughts. Violence. Torture. Gore. Pining. Trauma. Self-Flagellation. Manipulation. Strong Language. Blood. Misogyny. PTSD. Spicy and smut parts. Slight redemption arc. Lima/Stockholm syndrom-ish. Childhood trauma.

Other warnings: Jealousy. Forbidden Love. Romance. Slow-burn Found Familly-ish. Comfort. Fluff. !SMUT and SPICE!

Word count of this fic: +250K

Chapter:  2/47

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Ava had returned with the wagon. Cassian briefly told the others what was going to happen. No one sat down in the presence of the Monk. The tension hanged in the air, and when the Monk began to wake you warned Cassian of it.

“He’s bound to a tree. What harm can he do?” he dismissed your warning and fear, making a mockery of it.

You hadn’t stopped staring at the Monk, at his markings that betrayed his secret. The others seemed to be unaware, or maybe they did not even care.

“Wake up, mutt.” Cassian nudged his head roughly. “Not so frightening now, eh?” he mocked him.

The Monk’s eyes opened and fixed on Cassian right away, then slowly he took in the situation he found himself in. Your blood ran ice cold at witnessing it, as if your body tried to warn you of the danger present. The Monk was far too calm to your liking, he looked even bored by the whole ordeal, as if it was an ordinary night for him.

Cassian walked to the black stallion and led it closer by the reins. “Looks like a strong animal. I wonder how long it would last if I cut off one of it’s legs.”

There was a slight change in the Monk’s eyes, they were sharper and focused on him.

The threat shocked you, “Cassian!”

The fury burned in Cassian’s eyes when he looked your way.

“We can use a horse.” you quickly blurted out to avoid his rage.

He held the reins out in your direction a little aggressively and you tried to keep a distance while fishing them out of his hands. Never would you admit it out loud that you might fear your own brother more than the Weeping Monk.

You led the horse away from Cassian and tied the reins to a tree, as you were petting the horse’s neck soothingly you became aware of the Monk’s eyes on you. It wasn’t hard to guess that the Monk was attached to the stallion.

Cassian continued to mock his captive, “Maybe I should cut your leg off and see how you’d fare.”

The Monk stayed eerily quiet, doing nothing more than study every single person present. Cassian pulled out his knife, dangling it in front of the Monk, then threatened to pierce it through his boot. The Monk didn’t even flinch, his icy stare far more intimidating than that simple knife. It bothered Cassian that his actions went without response, it was why he decided to punch the Monk in the jaw, who took it without a sound. Ava chuckled amused, part of her must have loved that twisted personality Cassian had.

“You’re a quiet one.” Cassian laughed and hit him again.

You hated to see the joy on his face when he was injuring someone who couldn’t defend themselves, just as you hated to see that same joy when he’d often hurt you. It felt so, so wrong.

“Stop it.” you said, all eyes turned to you. “It’s cowardly to attack someone who is bound.”

Your whole body tensed right after realizing what you had done.

Cassian scoffed insulted, “Are you calling me a coward?”

He stepped away from the Monk and stopped right in front of you. The backhanded slap you received was no surprise, but it didn’t hurt any less because of it.

Cassian sneered the words at you. “The only coward here is you. That bastard would kill you first of all, you can’t even defend yourself. That’s why you’re here aren’t you? Too weak and scared to survive on your own.”

Ava cruelly chuckled. Your eyes fell to the grass. Cassian looked so pleased to see you upset.

“Enough, Cassian. We need to focus on our plan.” Bertram was trying to draw the attention away from you.

Cassian looked at you like you were nothing more than the dirt beneath his boots, then walked away. “Just because you keep defending her, doesn’t mean she’ll pull you into the bushes with her.”

It was mortifying to hear the insinuation and the laughter that followed from Cassian and Ava. Bertram on the other hand looked away from everyone.

Cassian beckoned for Bertram. “Let’s get him on the wagon.”

You stayed with the horse, the only company you felt comfortable with in that moment. They got him loose from the tree but kept his wrists bound together in front of him whilst they moved him to the wagon. Ava kept her distance, she had bound a rag around her arm to cover the wound there.

Cassian held his sword ready but looked your way just for one blink and chaos erupted instantly. The Monk took the moment of distraction to cut loose the ropes on his wrists by moving them across the blade of the sword, he kicked Cassian to the ground immediately after. Ava was running towards Cassian to help, but you ran to Bertram when you saw the Monk turn on him next. He had already managed to disarm and steal Bertram’s sword, the poor Sky Folk barely stood a chance against him. It was reckless, but you had to try and help. You ran up to them and grabbed the cloak of the Monk, giving it a strong pull so Bertram could get to a safer distance. What you didn’t anticipate was that the Monk would switch targets so fast. You barely registered the hand wrapping around your lower arm, nor how the Monk had turned and caught you in his grasp. The fight fell to a sudden stop when the sword was against your throat, the Monk was holding you against his chest like a shield.

For the first time, the Monk let his voice be heard, “Stand down.”

He caught a whift of your scent by standing so close, there was an oddity in it that he could not place.

Cassian cursed under his breath, as did Bertram. The group kept their distance.

Next, the Monk demanded, “My swords.”

None of them moved to fetch the swords they had put on the wagon, they weren’t willing to offer him any more weapons than he already had. The Monk moved just a little and a whimper escaped you.

“Shhh…” he hushed. “Quiet.”

“Let her go.” Bertram said, eyes going back and forth between you and the Monk. “Just let her go.”

The Monk held on. “What is her life worth to you?”

“What?” Cassian asked incredulous.

“Is it worth yours?” The Monk tilted his chin in their direction. No answer came and he pushed them for one, “She risks her life to protect you, and you will not even consider doing the same for her?”

Ava kept quiet, gulping down the undeniable fear she felt. For a second, Bertram looked at you apologetic and your stomach turned.

“You can try to run. Or you can die with her. What will it be?” The Monk watched the group, waiting for their decision.

You saw all of them looking at each other and then they began to retreat. Slow at first, but then they ran. Bertram, the only friend you thought you had, abandoned you… leaving you to die at the hands of the Weeping Monk. Inside you were crumbling apart, broken by the betrayal, by how truly easy it was for them to give up on you. You were blinking fast, fighting the tears from showing. The group was gone, they had fled into the darkness of the forest, abandoning you in the grasp of the monster. The Monk stood still for a moment longer, undoubtedly noticing the response you had to the group forsaking you. Then he slowly walked with you to his horse where he retrieved a rope and used it to bind your wrists together in front of you. After taking another rope, he led you to a tree and forced you to sit down against it, he bound you to it.

You barely dared to stare up at him, and even when you did you only saw how his face was cloaked in the shadow of his hood. It reminded you of how some would describe a creature who came to collect the souls of the deceased. The Monk picked up his swords from the wagon, sheathed the shorter one but keeping the longsword in hand. He inspected the ropes binding you one more time before walking away, leaving you there at the mercy of the forest and possibly even wolves.

“No! Please, let me go!” You panicked when you saw him walk off.

He ignored the plea and soon he was out of sight and into the darkness of the forest. Fear engulfed your being. How long before you would starve, or perish from thirst? Or perhaps a wolf would find itself a tasty meal tied to a tree…

“You bastard!” your scream followed in his tracks.

But the Monk did not return.

    ~~~♤~~~♤~~~◇~~~♤~~~♤~~~

  Hours must have passed, it was dawn when you opened your eyes after having fallen asleep waiting for help that never came. You were still tied to the tree, but no longer alone. A frightened gasp escaped you when you saw the Monk stand near his horse, his back was turned to you, he was cleaning blood off of his sword with a rag he then discarded. Your eyes quickly scanned your body for signs of injuries but found nothing. But then where had that blood came from? He noticed that you were awake and walked over to you, sheathing the sword before stopping a few paces away.

“You are not Fey.” he stated.

Your eyes forced themselves away before they could betray the truth, your body shaking violently in fear of what he would do. You were defenseless like this, he could do anything he wished and you feared the worst.

The Monk spoke in a calm and even civil manner, “I found the Sky Folks. They have been cleansed.”

Ava and Bertram were dead? Your eyes fell on the bloodied rag.

“The man, Cassian, do you know where I will find him?” he asked.

You were quick to shake your head and kept your eyes fixed on the grass.

The Monk was determined to find the one who had acted so distasteful towards him. “I will find him.”

Could he sense that you were lying? You hoped he couldn’t. He came closer and stood near your boots quietly for a while, you worried he was trying to determine whether or not to kill you.

“You stole from us.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Are you?” He arched a brow, questioning your sincerity.

You nodded shallowly. “Are you going to kill me?”

The Monk was quiet for the longest time, then he reached down and from reflex you flinched. Always prepared for a hand to strike. He was only inspecting to see if the ropes were still fixed.

He stated the facts. “The ring. I know you have it, Father told me he saw you take it. Where is it?”

“In my pocket.” you quietly said.

Right away he inspected your jacket for it. Well… it wasn’t in those pockets…

“Uhm…” You were wincing at the uncomfortable situation you were in.

He looked at your face expectantly.

It came out very quiet. “The pocket of my trousers.”

His hands were off of you instantly, he swallowed and was clearly trying to think of what he would do. You didn’t think he would look as uncomfortable as you were. A deep breath. “Which pocket?”

By nodding to your right, you gave him the answer.

He brushed his hand over his chin, then slowly reached over to try and search for the ring. But the moment you flinched again, he halted. “If you cooperate, I will show you mercy.”

To show that he meant it, the Monk loosened the ropes, freeing you. He must have been confident that you wouldn’t try to attack him, and you knew better than to try. You didn’t even dare to get up from the ground, it felt like your back was stuck to the tree.

“The ring. Hand it over.” He beckoned for it.

With trembling hands you fished it out of your pocket and held it out for him to take.

The Monk took notice of how you were avoiding eye contact and took the ring from your hand. He looked at it whilst interrogating you. “Why did you steal it?”

Because if you didn’t, Cassian or Aldith would either starve or beat you into submission again… Your silence persisted.

“Answer my questions.” his tone was firm.

“To earn a meal.” you hated to say it out loud.

“Poverty?” he asked.

Your father wasn’t poor at all… Yet you nodded, letting him believe his guess was right.

The Monk questioned you further. “Tell me what you know about the man you were with.”

“He was Sky Folk, the woman was his sister.” you said.

He must have known that you were being purposely avoidant. “Not him. The one who struck you. Cassian.”

Your brain tried to think of plausible lies quickly. Because you couldn’t tell him the truth and expect him to let you go after that. No, he would use you to lead him right to Cassian, to your home and neither Aldith or Cassian would be forgiving. “I only know his name and that he is a sellsword. I encountered him with the Sky Folks.”

The Monk was thinking up theories. “Did he force you to steal from our camp?”

You did not appear to be the sort of person who would be willing to take such risks voluntarily. There was not even a weapon on you.

You didn’t know how to answer. He was clearly waiting for one.

“Well?”

“Yes.”

“You fear him.” It was a statement, he sounded so certain of it.

Not a sound came out of you. As if part of you feared Cassian was still around, watching this and waiting to see if you’d betray him.

He knelt down to your level, holding the ring up for you to see. “Stealing is a mortal sin.”

“I’m sorry.” The constant urge to apologize to avoid the violence was ever present.

The Monk dropped the ring into the grass and rose from the ground again, he walked towards his horse. You were still sitting against the tree and he stopped to look at you.

“Go.” he told.

“I’m free?” You couldn’t really believe it.

“Consider this clemency.” He paused. “I will not offer it a second time should we cross paths in a manner such as this again.”

You were starring openly at him now.

“Understood?”

“Yes…”

The Monk mounted his horse and you scrambled to your feet. For just a moment his horse seemed reluctant to follow his command, the animal was looking at you. He spoke to the stallion, drawing the horse’s attention back to him, “Goliath.”

Finally, the horse listened and the Monk slowly rode away. You were still in disbelief about it all when the sunlight reflected on the rubies of the ring he had left behind in the grass. You picked the ring up and were left to wonder why the Monk would even let you keep it. Was it because you had prevented Cassian from cutting a leg off of the horse?Regardless, if he had known of the Feyblood in your veins, he would not have shown you mercy. It took you a moment before you went and climbed into the wagon, maybe you should have waited to see if Cassian would return for it, but he hadn’t bothered to return for you either so you rode back to Ravenwick alone.

Taglist:

@ourlazydetectivekitten ​​  @the-great-adventures-of-me   @linkpk88   @fxrchxldws @elenaoftheturks ​​  @slytherlight   @beananacake ​​     @crystallizedtime ​​ @moonlightaura03 @angrygardendeer @have-aheart   @5am-cigarette   @arcanenature @thewinterskywalker @notyourwildestdream   @coloursforyourportrait   @koressecretidentity   @nike90   @n1ghtlux ​​  @rachlovesactors ​​  @luckyzipperscissorsbat   @morena-doing-stuff   @the-fangirl-diaries ​​  @gipsydanger17   @heavenly1927 ​​ @phantasmalbeiing @labyrinthonmymind @asarcastic-thiamstan @rainyv-skies     @stclairesplace   @​​katjusja @isla-bell-blog   @beebeerockknot   @sahvlren @lancedoncrimsonwings @weird123abc @elizabeth-holland24 @kissingandromeda

Please let me know if you want to be added or removed from the taglist of this story. Using this old list from the previous fic.

[devildomditzy]

Aaah!!!!! I’m so excited for this!!!! Would it be alright if I requested “I need you beside me.” ❤️‍🩹🥺 for Mammon? I love all your work, and I can’t wait to see everything that comes out of this event!!!!

Thank you very much ❤️ I hope I make you cry a lil

(this one got way too long)

TW for gore, spoilers for lesson 16

Also should have mentioned - ooc mammon bc i want to see him get angry

——————————————————————————

Things changed after that day. As much as you hate to admit it, seeing your lifeless, cold, dead body in your best friend’s arms really does fuck with you.

You became fearful, jumping at loud noises and avoiding the attic. A simple hand laid on your shoulder could provoke the most blood curdling scream, and necklaces were out of the question. If you felt even the lightest of touches around your throat, you’d panic into fight or flight mode.

And it wasn’t just you that changed. No, every brother personality’s shifted ever so slightly, and while you made a point not to mention it, you can’t say you were that fond of their new…‘quirks’ so to speak.

They became softer, too afraid to set you off into a spiral of memories that’s hard to come back from. They made sure you were never alone, a trait that while comforting, was becoming extremely bothersome. They watched you, ever present like hawks just to be sure you were still alive, you were still breathing, you were still with them. And even more so, they watched Belphie.

You’re trying to be nice, fuck, you’re really trying your best. Now that the news that you’re Lilith’s descendant has washed over, Belphie has taken a new, rather innocent interest in you. When he smiles that sweet, gentle smile at you, asking if you want to take a nap together, all you can see if his twisted, self righteous smirk, his lips upturned in laughter as he squeezed all the life out of you, crushing your windpipe and slashing a large, deep, sickening gash along your chest, reaching down to your stomach. It might have not happened to this version of you, but since Barbatos merged the times lines, it might as well have. You have all the memories, all the burning feelings, all the swelling pain. And now you had to learn to live with that.

Progress was being made, you told yourself, in order to keep spirits up, not letting yourself wander in your head too much. Hey, just last week you stopped crying when he was in the same room! You could tell it made Beel happy to see you two interact. He’d try to offer to sit in on movies and naps to get you two acclimated to each other, but you just couldn’t . It’s not only your mentality holding you back, there was a physical force stopping you form getting any closer. Quite literally whenever the opportunity would arise, Mammon would grab your wrist in a vice grip, pulling you behind him and answering for you.

“They’re not interested in anything that has to do with ya.”

His body language screamed protection, and the gaze he shot the youngest reminded everyone he’s the second most powerful avatar. Honestly, you were thankful for it. You didn’t want to hurt Beel’s feelings, but the thought of being in a room with Belphie without Mammon made you want to throw up.

Group activities have been attempted. Family movie nights were once again ago, but the second born made sure the two of you were the farthest possible distance from his younger brother while still being able to see the screen. The atmosphere always awkward, intense, suffocating. You noticed Belphegor’s gaze reach you a few times, a small smile on his lips.

It was almost unbearable, if not for Mammon.

It once was rare that you felt Mammon’s aura become dark and foreboding, so rare that it took so long for you to see his demon form, the first time being at the ball Diavolo held. It was the first time you’d seen one of them like that and your brain didn’t scream in fear. Hell, he was the only brother who hadn’t tried to kill you. The amount of restraint he usually had was commendable.

That was all out the window now.

Mammon stared across the room at his brother, eyes throwing a wordless threat towards him.

“Dontcha wanna watch the movie Belphie? Ya keep starin’ at them yer gonna lose the plot.”

You’ve never heard him so emotionless.

So cold.

So threatening.

Unsurprisingly though, the youngest had decided he had enough of your protector.

“You don’t own them, Mammon”, Belphie grumbled under his breath.

“What did ya just say?”, Mammon shot back, his voice laced with venom, daring Belphie to answer him.

“I said you don’t own them!” The seventh born raised his voice now, tone matching Mammon’s in a lethal contest. “I said I was sorry! I’m trying to make up for lost time, but I can’t if you keep being their guard dog! We’ve barely seen them all week!”

The rest of the room stayed surprisingly quiet at first, simply observing the exchange in anticipation, waiting to see who would make the first move, if any move at all.

“Make up for lost time? Ya wanna make up for lost time when you almost made us loose them for good?”, you notice Mammon begin to clench and unclench his fists in what you have come to learn is an attempt to calm down.

“Ya better shut yer mouth before I shut it for ya. Permanently.”

This was going to break bad any second.

“How about I choke ya out till I cave your throat in? Slit ya down the front until you’re bleedin’ out and cryin’ for mercy, huh? How’s about I make you feel like they did, kiddo?”

Your eyes widen and shoot towards the only source you know who could stop this. As if waiting for your cue, Lucifer stands up and puts a hand to Mammon’s shoulder.

He leans in and whispers something harsh, quietly so the others can’t hear but loud enough for you to take in.

“Enough. Mammon, I understand your anger, but I will not allow anymore deaths on this property.”

When the second born does not seem to back down, he continues,

“Don’t you think they’ve seen enough carnage?”, he gestures towards you, and the action makes Mammon falter.

“Now, take them back to their room and calm down. If this happens again, I won’t be so forgiving.”

Mammon hangs his head, making his expression unreadable to you, huffing out shaky breaths before wordlessly grabbing your shoulder and ushering you out of the room.

You now find yourself seated on your bed, watching him pace relentlessly. He’s talking to himself under his breath, but you’ve never been good at reading lips. Usually between the two of you there’s never a dull moment, never a lull of silence. Right now though, you’ve got it. And it’s scaring you.

“Mammon?”, you question cautiously, trying to get his attention. You can tell he heard you by the way he jolts, but chooses to ignore you to continue his circling.

“Mammon, please?”

He stops, back facing you. At least he’s listening.

“I…”you struggle to find the right words. “I really appreciate you looking out for me.”

With that, he finally turns to face you, cobalt and golden irises finally locking onto yours. He looks pissed, but you can tell he’s trying to calm down for your sake.

“And I really appreciate you hanging out with me all the time…but, I don’t want that to get in the way of the relationship you have with your brothers.”

“Nuh Uh. No no no no no, nope. Don’t blame that idiot’s actions on yerself,” he sighs, grabbing you by the shoulders.

He kneels down now, meeting you at eye level.

“Listen, okay? And listen good cause I’m only gonna say this once. Our family’s problems shoulda never became yer own, got it? None of this is yer fault. Just…you were kinda… how should I put it…wrong place wrong time?”

“So you’re saying it would have been better if I wasn’t picked as an exchange student?”

“NO!”, he winces once realizing how loud that came out, with a speed that needed to cut off that line of thinking any further.

“But you guys have killed humans before? You even talked about eating them, and I can’t tell if you’re joking or not, but Beel definitely has, so why do you care about me? All of this started because you have to protect me, you’re honor bound and pact bound. If you didn’t feel the need to protect me so…so strongly, you would have never been mad at Belphie. Hell, you probably would have felt the same way about me too.”

You drop your gaze, unable to look at him now. The tears that pin prick your lash line threaten to pour over and fall down your cheeks. You become surprised as a hand comes up and wipes them away.

“Fuck, you’re an idiot, ya know that? Sometimes you can be a bigger idiot then me, and that’s sayin’ sumthin’”.

You head shoots up to angrily glare at him only to find him giving you the most sincere look you’ve ever seen on his face.

“You comin’ here didn’t change anything. Belphie woulda done anythin’ possible to kill the human exchange student if it was you, or any other schmuck. An I woulda had to look out for them, too.”

You ponder it for a moment letting his words sink into your skin. It sounds logical, you know that, but you still can’t help but blame yourself. He can almost see right through you.

“But, I don’t want any other schmuck, got it? You’re my human and I’m your first man. Ya know what that means?”

“It means I have to give you my undivided attention or you’ll throw a hissy fit?”

“Wha- Hey! No!”, He tried to look mad, but how can he when you giggle so brightly.

“It means you’re mine, idiot. There is no one else because no one else could even compete with ya. Of course I’m gonna protect ya. I can’t go loosing ya”, you can hear him choke on his words a bit before continuing, “not again.”

You reach out and wrap your arms around him, pulling him into your chest and holding on as tight as you could, almost for dear life. He lifts his head of unruly white hair to look up at you.

“I need ya beside me.”

[matrixbearer2024]

Grief Of The Gifted

Ford doesn't get a perfect score and kind of has a meltdown, luckily Stan is there to ground him back to reality against self-imposed unrealistic expectations.

That moment when I decide to write for my modernity AU and it's actually completely freaking bonkers HAHAHA- but yeah, college AU set circa 202X because why not, have some Stan twins dynamic while I flesh out the rest of the AU with Fidds and Bill LOL-

Also yes, FIlbrick being a piece of shit father because OF COURSE HE IS- totally not projecting my own parental issues onto these two HAHAHAHA

The classroom was a ghost town when the final bell rang, sunlight filtering through the smudged windows in lazy, golden streaks. The world outside seemed to hum with freedom, the chatter of students in the hallways slowly dissolving into echoes, but for Stanford Pines, time stood still. He sat hunched over his desk, his fingers clutching the paper like it might burn through his skin, and in some ways, it already had.

That crimson “99” was seared into his mind like a brand, mocking him with its audacious imperfection. It wasn’t just a number— it was a reflection, a twisted mirror held up to his relentless expectations. The wrong answer wasn’t a simple mistake; it was a flaw in his very existence.

The sharp edge of disappointment cut deeper than he thought possible, leaving him hollow. When had learning— his sanctuary, his passion— become such an unbearable weight? Once, the pursuit of knowledge had felt like the thrill of a treasure hunt, a constant chase after the glittering unknown. But now, the treasures he uncovered weren’t enough to quench the insatiable hunger for approval that gnawed at him.

Approval he’d never truly receive.

His father’s voice echoed in his mind, not in words of comfort, but in the deafening silence of withheld affection. His achievements weren’t milestones— they were currency, cashed in for a fleeting glance of acknowledgment. And today, he had come up short. One point short. He could almost feel his father’s eyes glance past him, unimpressed.

Stanford blinked furiously, willing the hot sting of tears to retreat, but they came anyway, unbidden and burning. His hands twisted the fabric of his jeans, nails digging into his palms. The gloves he wore— itched, suffocated, hid— mocked him almost as much as the paper. Everything about him felt wrong, from the six fingers to the single missing point.

The classroom door creaked, snapping him from his spiraling thoughts. A familiar voice filled the silence.

“Hey, you doin’ okay?"

Stanley’s tone was soft, but his presence filled the room, grounding and real.

Stanford tried to speak, tried to muster some semblance of a reply, but his throat felt raw, as if the weight of that single red number had lodged itself there. His twin didn’t need words to understand; Stanley had always been attuned to him in a way that others weren’t, a mirror reflecting what Ford tried so hard to hide.

“You got the highest grade in the class, didn’t you?”

Stanley ventured, his tone casual, but his eyes brimming with a rare sincerity. There wasn't any of his typical joking sarcasm.

"That test was brutal. I’m lucky I squeaked out a B. You pulled an A+— that’s somethin’, Sixer.”

It wasn’t, though. Not to Ford. It wasn’t enough. The perfection he sought was like the horizon— always in view, never in reach. He felt the frustration bubble over, the words rising to his lips only to falter when Stanley smiled at him. That comforting, crooked grin— an unspoken reassurance that said, “It’s okay to let it out.”

And Ford did. The tears broke free, rolling down his cheeks as his body shook with the force of the emotions he’d kept bottled up. Anger, shame, exhaustion— it all spilled over, raw and unfiltered. He hated how weak he felt, how utterly vulnerable, but Stanley didn’t flinch. He didn’t pull away.

Instead, his twin stepped closer, wrapping his arms around Ford in a firm hug that anchored him in the storm of his own making. The world shrank down to just the two of them, the paper falling forgotten to the desk. Ford sobbed into Stanley’s shoulder, his brother’s steady presence a lifeline.

“Hey, it’s okay."

Stan murmured, his hand resting lightly on Ford’s back, careful not to press too hard.

“You’re killin’ yourself over one point, Six. One stupid point. You’re still the smartest guy I know. Ain’t nobody else gettin' an A+ from this damn prof."

But it wasn’t about the grade— it was never about the grade. It was about the invisible chains of expectation Ford had wrapped around himself, links forged by years of trying to be enough for a father who never gave him the keys to love.

Stan knew this, even if he couldn’t put it into words. He just held on, steady as a lighthouse in a storm, letting Ford cry until the tide ebbed and the weight of that red ink felt a little less crushing.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The classroom around them was quiet now, bathed in the soft, fading light of the evening sun. Ford’s sobs subsided into shuddering breaths, and Stan finally pulled back, resting his hands on his twin’s shoulders.

“Let it go, Sixer."

Stanley said, his voice uncharacteristically gentle.

“That number doesn’t define you. You’re more than that.”

For the first time that day, Ford met his brother’s gaze. The shame, the anger— they were still there, but they were softened by the warmth in Stanley’s expression. For a fleeting moment, Stanford believed him.

Because if anyone knew the weight of grief, of expectations unmet, it was Stanley. He bore it in his own way, in his own silence. And yet, here he was, holding Ford together when it felt like he was falling apart.

Maybe that was what love really was— not the transactional kind that demanded unrealistic expectation, but the kind that stayed, even when you felt like nothing more than a failure.

The grief of the gifted was a heavy burden. But once more, Stanford was reminded that he didn’t have to carry it alone.

Not when he had one hell of a brother by his side.

Tell me what you guys think about this one! Might continue with this AU as well as the fics for the time lord twins one :D

[lundenloves]

welcome to my projection.

i write sometimes. it’s primarily just to pass the time instead of moping around my room like a lazy bastard but hey-ho, some people seem to gravitate towards the nonsense i write. british comedies by the looks of it *hitting my chest with pride* humour me or i’ll fall into another spiral ‼️

all works listed are owned by me unless stated otherwise, do not copy or use any of my material as your own. minors do not interact. also take note that everything i write is fictional.

→ request info | taglist

→ couples counselling one 1.4k | two 2.4k | f!oc | angst, mentions of sex although nothing explicit

[ aleta and javier peña have been married for ten years, only now do they realise love isn’t reciprocated between them anymore. ]

→ home comforts req | 1k | gn!reader

[ you're struggling to cope after the DEA. fortunately, your partner is there to help you. even with awful jokes. ]

→ dad!simon masterlist

[ where you’ll find your favourite big broody man turning a page in this fatherhood bollocks. a journey. you may even get emotional but don't blame me. thanks. ]

→ ¹ when it rains, it pours smut 6.3k | f!oc

[ after relentless drunken encouragement from 141, simon riley decides to take a girl home whom he's caught eyes with a few too many times. what he doesn't expect however, are the unknown feelings in his chest after her simple acts of affection and pleasure he was always deprived of. ]

→ ² pouring through rainfall part two of the above | 3.4k

[ thea and simon meet again, their year told through seasons and summarised to the ending we all wanted. ]

→ therapy session 2.5k

[ mandatory therapy at base as set by price. simon is not for it, uncooperative mf with glares and the lot featuring a price cameo omg ]

→ johnny's scene 1.3k

[ simon refuses to come to terms with soap’s death and it eats at him. his grief follows him into the house and you’re growing tired of it, ultimately resulting in a fuck off argument. explosions totally happen. or not. ]

→ general headcannons

[ late night thoughts, thrown together with zero process ]

LONG DRABBLES ↓

→ simon hates photos | 500 words

→ pregnant with his third child | 700 words

→ that’ll do, johnny req | 1.1k | gn!reader

[ your soulmate, johnny mactavish. that’s it. that’s the ficlet. ]

→ price teaches you how to smoke req | 700 wc | gn!reader

[ praise, price and cigars, what more could you want? ]

COMFORTABLY NUMB (dr!price au)

〔 you’re slotted right into the service of doctor john price, an elite head of division and self titled marmite character — you either love him or hate him. you personally can’t quite decide, but he knows for certain that you’re not for him. what will you do after being forced to learn under his wing? 〕

→ ¹ welcome to the nhs 3.1k | check warnings

→ first hc

DAMON ALBARN

→ platforms 120k | f!oc | 18+ | complete fic ✓

[ “I’ll show you where things are, and then you can shut up and put your head down. You work for me now.” His accent was sharp.

"I work for money, not for you." In which Amelia's already testing Monday morning is ruined even further by a certain irate man. The two automatically don't get along and soon become sick at the thought of each other. What happens when Amelia finds herself working for the enemy? ]