esposamultifandom

[esposamultifandom]

My first post so i’m so sorry if it sucks :(

Basically the gist of this is that I’ve been collecting imagines in my drafts of Roomate!Simon Riley x F!Reader and all of a sudden this actual full blown fic happened. So yeah, welcome to Roomate!Simon Riley taking your virginity.

Warnings: Minor DNI 18+, Oral F!Receiving, Fingering, Unprotected P in V (wrap it before you tap it folks), Size kink if you put on glasses and squint, an over usage of the word baby, attagirl, etc. (i like pet names), possibly dirty talking i dunno, no use of Y/N, tried super hard not to describe what exactly you were wearing or looked like so, um talk of shitty guys, virginity taking (obvi), mentions of overstimulation but it’s not a big part or nothin, I don’t know what else but if I’m missing something I apologize!

P.S. this was supposed to be dirtier but i don’t know what happened. Simon just became a whore for your pussy.

Word count: 4k and some change

Roommate!Simon Riley who finally gets to fuck you

He knew you were a virgin, you’d told him in a game of truth or dare during a particularly bad storm. The power was out, you’d had some wine, it wasn’t like he’d care anyway, but he did. He thought about it every night when he was alone, hand wrapped around his aching cock as he fantasized milking you dry.

And now, here you were, splayed out in front of him.

It was accidental. You’d just gone on your fifth absolutely atrocious date of the month and walked into the apartment practically sobbing. Ghost pried and pried until you told him what had happened.

“He kept feeding me alcohol and I didn’t care cause I just wanted to fucking do something, anything.”

He’d furrowed his brows, hanging your jacket on its hooks. “What you mean, do somethin’?”

“I’m so tired of being the only fucking girl that’s a virgin. It’s humiliating. The second a guy finds out they just fucking drop me like some bitch ass pussy.” You always had a potty mouth when you were angry. He normally found it funny, cute even, but all it did right then was make his heart clench. “And of course he was getting me tipsy so it slipped out and he literally said ‘fuck, why’d you have to say that,’ then told me to ‘please get out of his car.’ He said he didn’t want that to be on his conscience, that it wasn’t his responsibility. Like how is that even fair to me?”

He tried to open his mouth to console you, to try and make things better, but his dick was getting harder by the minute and you just kept rambling.

“All I want is for someone to want me. To want to touch me and for just a minute I wanna feel something, I wanna feel good.” You were too worked up to feel embarrassed, but the shame was there, rearing its ugly head and leaving you a weeping mess.

“I’m sorry, I-you don’t need to know this.” Little did you know he was standing there with the world’s biggest boner. He tried to be chivalrous, took your purse and sat it on the table and grabbed you an ice-cold bottle of water, he let you cry and rant while the whole time all he could think about was fucking that virgin cunt senseless until you were writhing on the bed screaming his name.

“Maybe it’s my fault ya know,” He froze at that, snapping back to reality. “I mean I’m the one who decided to keep myself pure or whatever the fuck you wanna call it. Maybe I’m too needy now or too desperate. Maybe I need to just give up and back off and accept the fact that I’m forever and always going to be-” He couldn’t stand it anymore. In three quick steps he was rounding the table and by your side, grasping your face and placing hungry lips against your own.

He pulled you flush against him, taking satisfaction in the way you yelped at the feeling of his bulge against your lower stomach. He kissed you fervently, tongue absolutely stealing the breath from your lungs and leaving your body limp. It was like a starving man having his first meal. His grip on your hip was rough as he squeezed the skin, no doubt leaving marks, while his other hand was behind your head, holding you close to him until he was satisfied.

Eventually, when you were shoving your hands against his chest, he pulled back, gasping into your mouth. His forehead laid against yours, eyes closing as he heaved in greedy gulps of air.

“Stop. fuckin’. talkin’.” The next kiss was soft, thumb rubbing circles where the bruises would form. “ ‘m gonna take care ‘a ya,” Another soft kiss. “give you exactly what ya need, yeah?

The air is knocked out of your lungs and all you can do is nod. He bites your bottom lip at your lack of noise, hand moving down to paw at your ass. “Use y’r fuckin’ words.”

“Yeah-yes.”

“Attagirl.” Both hands were on your thighs now, tugging you up and forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist. He’s kissing you again, moving swiftly down the hall to his room. You’re not as quick as him, inexperienced lips moving slower around his mouth, and your trembling hands grasping at his neck and jawline.

He practically kicks the door down, slamming it shut with his foot before laying you down softly against the bed. “Gonna take these off,”

Another nod, heat pooling in your stomach at the deep, desperate rasp in his voice. He works quick, and by the time your bottoms are off, the nerves begin to kick in. Your breathing grows uneven when he reaches for your underwear.

“Anybody eva touched y’r pussy before, baby?” He knew you were a virgin, but that didn’t mean you hadn’t played around before.

“Just-just me.” He can feel the precum dripping from his throbbing cock.

“Fuck don’t say that t’ me.” He closes his eyes, groaning as he hooks his fingers into the waistline of your panties and pulling them off your body. He doesn’t throw them down with your pants, instead he sticks them in his back pocket, fingers rubbing the cotton back and forth at the feeling of the slick coating their inside. He starts kissing up your legs, hands gripping your thighs and spreading them wide as his warm lips leave open-mouthed kisses against the inner part of your knees.

You’re not breathing at this point, instead just gripping the sheets in silent anticipation. You thought you’d be more excited, but instead there’s just anxiety and insecurity coating every part of your body.

He can feel the tension in your thighs, can feel it even more as he runs his hands up to your stomach, kneading the soft skin of your belly. “Relax sweet’art, got nothin’ t’ be scared of.”

His lips are now just above your pussy, tongue swooping down to run across your clit. You’d touched yourself before, you knew what it felt like, but this was different, very very different.

He groans at your soft whimper, moving down toward your wet slit and beginning to kiss there too.

“Fuck can you just-just do it.” You’re rubbing your hands down your face at this point, trying to fight away the roaming thoughts as the warmth of his tongue teases your pussy lips.

“Gotta take m’ time, get ya opened up.”

“But-”

He looks up, eyes soft and filled with understanding. “Jus’ trust me.” He squeezes your skin for emphasis, smiling that familiar smile and easing some of the stress in your gut. You’re now able to recognize the intense heat pooling there.

Once his tongue finally starts moving inside and his nose begins bumping your clit, your head falls back on the bed, quiet mewls coming from your trembling lips.

He didn’t like that you were so quiet, no, he wanted to hear you fucking sing.

“C’mon baby, tell me what ya need. Lemme help.” You wanted to, but the problem was, you yourself had no idea what it was that you needed him to do.

“I don’t know-I just-I don’t know.”

He kept lapping anyway, moving up to sucking your clit. That pulled a sound from you, one he’d never heard before. He loved it.

“B-better, that’s better.”

Your fingers were grasping onto whatever they could find, the pillow, the sheets, your own top, but you still weren’t where he wanted you to be.

“Breathe,” He mumbles the words against your core, leaving you shivering. “You eva had y’r fingers inside ya?”

You’d tried once or twice, but it never felt right, just too uncomfortable and too hard to try more than a few minutes. “Yes.” The weight of your honesty lays heavy on your shoulders. “I didn’t like it.”

He was lazily kissing your clit, leaving strained whines coming from your throat. “Gimme y’r hands.” You obeyed immediately, letting him take your fingers and guide them to his hair. “‘m gonna try, ‘f you don’t like it, you tell me an’ I’ll stop right then.”

“Okay,” Your voice is weak, nerves making your body feel on fire. You awaited the uncomfortable intrusion, but instead just felt his mouth again. Felt his lips wrapping around your clit, felt his tongue gathering your slick and spreading it wherever he pleased. It made you forget, only for a moment, made your body relax and fingers go lax on his scalp.

He took that opportunity to put a finger in. His were so much bigger and wider than yours, and that once uncomfortable feeling now kind of hurt.

You couldn’t help but hiss, fingernails scratching at his scalp, but you didn’t tell him to stop, and so he didn’t. He kept scissoring you, until eventually the feeling of his finger was more pleasurable than anything. He could sense the relaxation in the walls of your pussy and in turn added another. This time you let out a moan, hips now grinding up to try and get more from him.

“Attagirl,” He whispered softly, curling his fingers in this spot you’d never even known existed.

Now you were fucking singing.

He moaned in response, who wouldn’t want this right in front of them?

“S-Simon.” You’re saying his name, pleading whines coming from your lips. There was a tightening in your belly you’d only felt a few times before, almost like this coil that could snap at any given moment.

He was a feral man now. Fingers squelching in and out of your wet folds, tongue going down on your clit like it was a fucking ice cream cone. Round and around in circles, sucking, biting, kissing, the mixture of that and the movement of his fingers had you writhing, cunt making movie-style noises as your orgasm grew closer and closer.

He could feel your walls start to flutter around him and knew you were almost there. Just a little more.

“Fuck fuckkk Simon,” He’d added a third finger, doing what you thought was filling you to the brim. You tugged, hard, on his hair, pushing his face down as far into your pussy as it could go.

Suddenly that coil snapped, and you let out a to-loud moan, chanting his name like a mantra in between shallow breaths.

“Simon.” Your voice was high pitched and needy, whimpers coming loose as your body shivered with overstimulation.

Simon, Simon, Simon, Simon. He could cum in his pants at the simple sound of your voice.

“Please oh god please, st-” He pulled away immediately, licking up every drop of release you’d given him and letting it rest on his lips. You didn’t have to tell him twice, if you were done then he could be done too, despite how badly he wanted to keep his mouth on your pussy for the rest of his life. The sounds you made, the way you smelled, his dick twitched in response.

“Did so fuckin’ good f’ me. Swee’est pussy I ever tasted.” He kissed his way up your body, loving the aftershocks that shook your limbs.

He pushed up your shirt with his nose, slipping deft fingers beneath the top and slipping it over your head.

“C’mon, come back t’ me now.” He was kissing your lips softly, rubbing the sides of your waist to draw you back to reality.

“M’here.”

“Yeah baby, there we go.” He was caressing your skin, drawing you back to his face, his body, back to every part of his being that you felt you were truly seeing for the first time.

“You’re beautiful,” Your voice was a soft whisper as you reached your fingers up to trace his face.

He couldn’t help but to smile, seeing you like this, eyes lidded and face flushed with the post-orgasm glaze, it made him want to fuck you over and over for the rest of his life, but with it there was also a dull ache inside to think that maybe you’d let somebody else see you this way.

“I’m glad it’s you,” Your words make him choke on his breath, the thoughts reeling in his brain pausing for a split second. “I wouldn’t-It couldn’t have been anyone else. Only you.”

Ghost blinked slowly, turning your speech in circles over and over until it made him nauseous. “Glad I can be of assistance.”

“No, no Simon, it's more than that. I only want it to be you.” His lips turned to meet the palm of your hand as he peppered kisses down your wrist, eventually coming back around to touch your lips. He shoves his nose against yours, one hand moving to grab ahold of your face.

“Always gonna be me.” A small kiss as his free hand fumbles for his belt. “‘M always gonna take care of ya, always gonna look out for ya.” He was kicking his jeans off now, bulge more prominent within the tight strain of his boxers. “Nobody’s eva’ gonna touch ya again, nobody but me.”

You nod, squeezing his neck softly as you bring his head down to meet yours. “I love you,” The words have been said a million times before. After his deployments, a long day, in between stirring dinner on the stove. You’d both been saying it all along, but no one was brave enough to admit that it was more than surface level, more than just three words in the dictionary.

He found his tongue heavy, brain completely empty as he watched your every move. “Yeah love,” Finally he could speak, he could speak as his fingers unhooked your bra. He could speak as he wanted to see every single part of you, wanted to see you bare and vulnerable in front of him, and then he wanted to hold you like that until you felt like nothing would ever hurt you again. “love you too.”

You slammed your lips into his as he removed his boxers, his cock standing strong and proud, the red tip leaking precum.

The nerves were back, stomach and pussy tensing at the mere thought of him trying to put it inside you. You didn’t know what the average penis looked like, but his looked fucking big.

Simon could sense the anxiety, could see it as your eyes grew wide and as your forehead creased with worry. “Relax, breathe.” He lifted your legs to rest against his hips, one hand beginning to line up his cock between your folds.

“Simon,”

“‘f you wanna stop, we’ll stop, promise.”

“No, I-no.”

He kissed you softly, dropping his length to grab your hand and place it against his bicep. “You hold that an’ you don’t let go. Can squeeze, claw, bite, whateva’ you need to do, ya got it?”

“Yeah,” It was a whimper, a whisper in the wind.

“Look at me alrigh’, keep those pretty eyes on me.” He started to push in, slowly, but the stretch of just his tip already had you crying, eyebrows pinched up and body so tense it felt like you could be snapped in half.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, you gotta-ya gotta relax baby, just-nngh-jus’ breathe.” His eyes were shut too, the feeling of your tight fucking pussy and nails clawing at his arms like he was a scratching post had him so worked up he swore he wouldn’t even last a minute.

“You can keep going, just keep going please.” Your voice was trembling, eyes pouring out tears as he pushed in a little further. He was barely halfway inside and already his orgasm was right there in front of him.

“Ta-mm-Talk t’ me baby. Tell me bout-tell me bout y’r favorite song.”

You laughed slightly, the sting starting to make way for pleasure. “You know my favorite song.” Each word was strained, but it was there, and you were pushing through.

“Alrigh’ then-fuck baby I can’t-y’r so fuckin’ tight, gotta ease up. Squeezin’ me so hard ‘m gonna bust like a fuckin’ twelve year old in a sock.”

The moment you giggled he sheathed himself in fully, laying his forehead against yours when you let out a pained cry. “I know, I know, ‘m sorry, ‘m sorry.” He was peppering your face with kisses, trying not to moan as loud as fucking possible. He hated that you were in so much pain, hated that he could feel cool liquid between your thighs that was anything but arousal.

“‘S alright, y’r alright, ‘s gonna get betta’, jus’ try t’-mm-” He whimpered unintentionally, and it sent something ablaze inside your stomach.

It took a moment, but, eventually, it stopped hurting so badly, and you were able to open your eyes, removing your nails from his arm only to leave deep indents that had even drawn blood. “There ya go, fuck yeah baby, there ya go.”

“You can-ah-you can move.” He was frantically rubbing your skin with his hands, kissing everywhere his mouth would reach.

“Ya sure?” He was a writhing mess on top of you, legs trembling along with his arm as he tried to hold himself up. You just felt so good, so warm.

“Y-yeah. Please.” The first thrust was excruciating, leaving you groaning against his lips, but the next one was better, and then better and better and better.

Now you were moaning, singing like the songbird he knew you were. “Fuck yeah baby-jus’ like tha’, keep squeezin’ me like tha’.”

His voice, so high-pitched and needy, unlike anything you’d ever heard him say. It had you practically yelling with pleasure. He was moving too slowly, it was agonizing the way you were feeling.

“More Si-I need more, please.” He whimpered at your words, hooking his arms underneath your knees and pushing them up to your chest. He started pounding into you, hitting this sweet spot over and over again.

“Oh my god Simonnn, Simon, Simon,” There it was again.

“Ohhhh baby oh baby keep singin’, fuck, keepin’ singin’ songbird.”

He swore he’d never had pussy this good in his life, and it was his, all his. No woman had ever made him whine like a needy teenager, never made him beg for release because of how badly he just wanted to fill you to the brim with his fucking cum.

“‘M close, ‘m so close fuck,” He couldn’t help how fast his orgasm built up. You just took him so well, so warm and soft.

You were getting there, that coil coming back more intensely than last time, but you knew he wouldn’t last that long. “Go ahead Simon-you can-you can cum honey. Please, please cum inside me.”

With a grunt he stopped, absolutely losing his shit inside of you as he shook with the force of his orgasm, moaning so loudly into your ear it made them ring. He was getting after shocks himself, twitching on top of you as it hit him full force.

“Oh god oh god oh god,” He was chanting your name now. The sound made you whine as you laid there, cold and throbbing with need. When he caught his breath, he sat up, kissing your lips tenderly.

“C’mere.” With a whimper he turned over onto his back, leaving your walls wrapped around him.

“Fuckin’ use me baby, do what ya need, I got ya.” You’d never ridden anything before, had not a single idea how to even begin, but he grabbed your hips, guiding you up and down.

“Set y’r own pace, do wha’ feels good.” You nodded, closing your eyes as you bounced up and down, rolling your hips forward which drew a porn-worthy moan from your chest.

Ghost threw his head back, thumb fumbling to rub your clit. “Attagirl, you fuckin’ ride m’ dick baby.” Every time he spoke to you, you could feel your pussy clench, and it’d clench tight. You knew this because every time it did, Ghost would whimper so loudly you swore he was a wounded puppy.

You’d never heard noises like this, never heard of another man being so obsessed with a pussy like this. He wouldn’t stop talking about it, mumbling beneath his breath as you continued to ride him.

You finally found a solid rhythm, and when Ghost began putting pressure on your puffy clit you swore you saw stars.

“Fuck Simon, oh fuck I’m so close,”

“Yeah I know I know, jus’ let it go baby, let it ‘appen.” One more roll of your hips and you were falling forward, clenching around him so tightly he came again. You were both moaning, loudly, bodies trembling against each other as you came down from your highs.

It took you longer, mind fuzzy as you grew more and more sensitive by the second. Ghost noticed the difference in your sounds and pulled out, lifting your hips and laying them back down against his pelvis.

His hands started rubbing up and down your back, soothing the vibrating skin. He was planting kisses all over your face, nuzzling his nose into your hair.

“Did so good f’ me, so so good.”

You couldn’t help but smile, fingers moving to prod at the fingernail indents on his arm. “‘M sorry.”

“Nah, don’t eva’ fuckin’ apologize for tha’.” You closed your eyes as his gruff, burly tone came out of hiding, the deep baritone sending shivers down your spine.

“Is that-was I-” You could feel your brain whirring with a million thoughts, and even though you knew none of them were true, you couldn’t help but feel a pit forming in your stomach anyway.

“What?” His tone was tender, one hand moving up to caress your cheeks.

A part of you wanted to spill every thought you were thinking, let him know every doubt and every worry, but the other part of you wanted to keep this sacred, to keep it this beautiful fever dream that could never be tainted.

“C’mon love, talk t’ me.”

You heaved in a deep breath, angling your head to look up at him. He met your eyes immediately, holding your face to stay staring at him.

“Was that okay?” You watched as confusion etched into his features.

“don’t know what ya mean baby.”

“Was I-ugh-I’ve never done this before okay I don’t-I didn’t even suck your dick.”

Now he was really confused. “This isn’t about me, this was about taking care of you.”

“Yeah but every time-”

“f’ y’r gonna say some stupid shit bout anotha’ guy ‘m gonna lose my mind alrigh’. You sittin’ here right now ‘n tellin’ me that you’ve been suckin’ dick ‘n not once they got ya off?”

You shrug, shame flushing your cheeks and making you turn away, but his grip was strong, keeping you facing him.

“Sweet’art you were fuckin’ perfect. Did ya ‘ear me?”

A shy smile tries to sneak through. “I did but-”

“Nobody’s eva’ made me feel tha’nway, nobody.”

You let out a sigh, laying back down into his warm skin. “I just don’t want you to get bored Simon.”

The belly laugh that escaped was nothing like you’d ever heard from him before. It shook your body, the loud, deep rumble of a snicker echoing off the walls.

“Bloody fuckin’ hell, ‘ve lived with ya for four years, if I was bored love, I’d be long fuckin’ gone.” He grunted when you slapped him on the chest, holding his hands up in surrender.

“No need to be sassy Riley.”

“ ‘M sorry, ‘m sorry,” He was showering you with kisses again, fingers trying to tickle your sides.

“Ow ow, no no no, I’m to sore, Simon fucking Riley!” He was chuckling again, rolling you over so you were on your back once more.

He wanted to slot himself inside you again, feel your warmth resting around his cock, but he opted instead to just hold you, to listen to what you had to say rather than combat it with sex.

“Listen here Riley. I’m being serious, okay.”

“ ‘m all ears baby.”

There was a fuzzy feeling in your stomach but you pushed it aside, trying to form the courage to draw out your words. “This was amazing, and I’d do it over and over again, but I can’t-if you don’t wanna be with me I need to know. I can’t do the friends with benefits thing okay, it’s not-I don’t have that in me.”

You opened you mouth to speak, and he could see the downward spiral lighting a fire inside your eyes.

“Listen t’ me. ‘ve spent the last four years thinkin’ bout spendin’ the next four years with ya. Wake up and I think about ya, go to bed and I think about ya. dream about ya, my mates fuckin’ hate me cause all I do is talk about ya. Y’r everythin’ I ‘ave. fuckin’ love ya, more than anythin’ on this Earth I love ya. Ya hearin’ me?” His words were firm, tucking themselves inside your heart and making their own home there.

It was all you’d ever wanted to hear from him, all you ever needed.

You took a moment to analyze his features, the scrunch of his eyebrows, the softness laid in his eyes, he was everything. With a shake of your head, you kissed him ever so softly. “Yeah, I hear you.”

He broke out into a wide smile, lips landing on yours tenderly. It wasn’t a feverish need this time, just one person melding with the other until you felt whole again, complete.

He stopped only to breathe, pushing a sweaty strand of hair out of your eyes. “Les’ get ya cleaned up, yeah?” You agreed, blinking lidded eyes as he stood up and lifted your weak body from the bed.

“Not a thing I wouldn’t do f’ ya, you know tha’ righ’?”

“Yeah Riley,” You touched his scruff, four years worth of evidence to his words flashing through your mind. “I know.”

[esposamultifandom]

A fathers love

Summary- The story between one Dark lord and his only son, Mattheo Riddle. And the first time Mattheo calls for his father when he's in trouble.

An idea inspired by a batfam fic and @anawritez-posts :3 is mostly a fic about Voldy and the relationship between him and his first born son Mattheo.

minor Tom/young Voldy x Reader, mostly just in the background-you can make up your own story for them and if they're romantic or not.

warning; Tom Riddle/Voldemort, heart aching fluff and angst, blood, injury.

=

Voldemort, Tom Marvolo Riddle, had never exactly expected to be a father, not once as he grew up without one, or when he murdered his father, or even when the world began to know what the name Voldemort meant-and began to fear it.

But a ruler needed an heir, so he convinced an old cohort of his, (y/n) (l/n), to be the mother of his heir. It gave her plenty of benefits, being under his protection, being the mother of his child, and being known as his dark lady because with her becoming the mother of his heir-came certain pureblood expectations, so of course he married her.

After marrying her, came his first-born son Mattheo, who he allowed his last name because Voldemort had never exactly thought of a proper wizarding last name so Riddle would have to do for now.

Birth was…stressful, not just for his wife, but for Voldemort as well-who hadn’t exactly realized that the death of his mother had affected him so badly that he was…scared that (y/n) would die giving birth to Mattheo. But she was fine, and Mattheo was a little red wriggly potato of a newborn.

“Healthy lungs,” (y/n) commented, exhausted and happy, looking down at his firstborn in her arms that was crying as hard as he could with his new functioning lungs. Voldemort nearly cringed if he wasn’t staring in near awe.

He made that, they made that, they made a tiny little human. (y/n) looked up at him, examining the impossibly surprised and soft expression the dark lord was making, he was knelt beside the bed, staring at Mattheo who was cradled in (y/n)’s arms. “Would you like to hold him?” (y/n) asked and Voldemort swallowed, for the first time, scared of hurting somebody.

“Should I?” Voldemort asked, his voice uncharacteristically vulnerable and (y/n) nodded, sitting up to place Mattheo in Voldemort's arms, who took him so gently it was almost comical. “Support his head, just like that.” (y/n) murmured, Voldemort slowly leaning back on his heels as he looked down at the tiny being in his arms-who had quieted as soon as Voldemort had taken him.

“He’s so small,” Voldemort murmured, his brown-red eyes staring down at the baby boy in his arms, warmth he never thought could’ve existed blossoming in his chest. The love of being a father.

-

Except, Voldemort isnt very good at showing love, considering he had never been shown it all his life. He had very few examples of a fatherly figure, he had Slughorn, he supposed, but he didn’t count Slughorn as a good example-considering how he hated Slughorn's coddling of him, though he did enjoy the praise.

So, Mattheo grew up going to his mother for all of his needs, which Voldemort was fine with, he didn’t know how to communicate with the boy, who was quite emotional-his heart on his sleeve unlike Voldemort, who had been emotional when he was young-but he was mean spirited, Mattheo was soft, like his mother.

Voldemort didn’t exactly try to stop the softness that Mattheo had in his heart, because while Mattheo didn’t know it, even the dark lord was weak to Mattheo’s doe eyes he gave when he wanted something from his mother.

Mattheo, however, grew up thinking his father didn’t exactly, care about him. The dark lord was distant and quiet, never showing affection even to his wife, Mattheo’s mom. This made Mattheo believe that he was only an heir to Voldemort, a means to an end, because his friends-or his future followers as the dark lord deemed them-all had relationships with their fathers, while they were stern and maybe a bit mean sometimes, they were still fathers, caring and loving, and when he was young, very very protective.

One time he saw Lucius call out for his dad when he scraped his knee and Abraxas had been next to him quicker than anyone could even say expelliarmus. It had only been a scrape too, and yet Abraxas had scooped up the 7-year-old and carried him into Malfoy manor, away from where he and Mattheo had been playing quidditch.

Mattheo always wondered what would happen if he called out for his father? If he started crying and called out for ‘dad’?

Mattheo, for the longest time, thought he’d never respond, that he had better luck calling for death itself to save him, because Voldemort would never care about anyone that much.

Right?

-

Mattheo hit the floor with a crack, groaning as his shoulder flared with pain. He could taste blood in his mouth, dripping off his lip and down his chin. He’d been assigned to a mission, either by his father or some other higher-up death eater, like Lestrange or something, but it was a stupidly dangerous mission, trying to convince the trolls of the western mountains to join his father's cause.

They hadn’t exactly reacted well to Mattheo’s offer, be it strained since he hadn’t exactly wanted to be there, so here he was, being thrown like a doll by mountain trolls.

He rolled onto his back, his vision blurry as he looked up at the trolls just a few feet away, one stomping up to him-raising its club high. Mattheo’s wand wasn’t in reach-blending in with the sticks and leaves on the forest floor, his heart seized in his chest.

Was he going to die here? Would he never get to see his mom again?

Would he never finish his Hogwarts education?

Panic bubbled in his throat and tears burned in his eyes-breathing heavily and quickly as he tried to scramble back. It came out by accident, the breathless cry of a scared 15-year-old who needed to be saved.

“D-Daaa-ad!!” The word was interrupted by blood in his throat, choking on it, making his voice quiet and almost pitiful.

The troll close to him didn’t even get the chance to arch down the club-because a swirl of strong black smoke and a blast of green lightning interrupted it. “AVADA KADAVRA!” a familiar voice bellowed, killing another troll-the shock wave from the two mountain trolls hitting the ground blowing Mattheo’s hair back as he sobbed on the ground, his shoulder in flaring pain and his chest hurting as he took shallow breaths between sobs.

He opened his eyes-seeing Voldemort-face twisted in rage-turn away from the mountain trolls that were fleeing. His father’s face went pale-paler than usual-and he rushed towards Mattheo, dropping his wand as he dropped to his knees beside his only son, carefully scooping the young boy into his arms, his head cradled in his elbow.

“Mattheo,” Voldemort breathed out, his eyes wide with worry, his jaw clenched as he looked over Mattheo for any injuries-finding many.

“Dad-“ Mattheo choked out, his hand tight against his father's sleeve-he doesn’t even remember the last time his father held him like this but right now he cant bring himself to try to remember-right now, he’s scared, he’s hurt, he needs his dad.

And his dad is right here, holding him, killed for him, protected him.

Mattheo doesn’t even know where he came from, how he knew Mattheo called for him, how he knew where Mattheo was. Perhaps Voldemort had followed him, perhaps it was fatherly instincts, perhaps magic.

It could’ve been anything, and Mattheo didn’t care, because his dad had come to save him-just like he always wanted.

“i-I’m-sorry,” Mattheo blubbered out as Voldemort found his wand and began enchanting healing spells under his breath, trying to reverse the worst of the damage.

“What?” Voldemort asked, his brow furrowed as he looked at Mattheo’s face. “Mattheo-no-“

“I shouldn’t be crying-I’m not a baby-I should’ve-been able to handle it,” Mattheo stutters out-fat tears rolling down his face-he hadn’t cried in front of his father in many many years.

Voldemort shushes him, it’s awkward and new, a copy of what his mother did when Mattheo got upset, but it’s still there-a gentle coo and a warm hand that brushed away blood and tears on Mattheo’s face. “Do not apologize, never apologize, you’re my child. You weren’t supposed to be on this mission in the first place,” Voldemort murmured, scooping his son completely into his arms, Mattheo clinging to his father’s robes.

Mattheo furrows his brows at his father’s words. He wasn’t meant to be on this mission? “I meant for this to be for Mulciber, who even told you to do this?” Voldemort said, it was a rhetorical question, but Mattheo answered anyway and Voldemort’s jaw clicked in anger. “I shall deal with him later, where is your wand?”

Mattheo sniffed and looked around, still in his father’s arms-which feels so odd-but finds his wand on the floor and his father grabs it, and in a moment he apparated them back to the manor-his mother already rushing down the stairs as Voldemort carried him through the threshold of the main foyer.

“I’ve got him,” Voldemort calmly said to his wife, who nodded, her fingers brushing through Mattheo’s hair as he leaned towards her-his eyes closed as he felt blood drying on his face.

 He’s set down in his room on his bed and his father personally sees to his medical needs, wiping up blood and fixing bones that were broken from when he’d been tossed to the ground by one of the mountain trolls.

It’s quiet, awkwardly quiet for a long time, Mattheo watching as his father, Voldemort, patched him up-his brown-red eyes intense as he waved his wand, charming the slice in Mattheo’s hand to heal up and close.

“I didn’t think you’d come,” Mattheo admitted softly, too scared, too shy, to look at his father, who froze at Mattheo’s words. His brows furrowed, looking up at his son.

“Why not?” Voldemort asked, putting his wand away and sitting next to his son, their shoulders only a few inches apart.

“I didn’t know you cared,” Mattheo said softly, looking down at his hands. Voldemort swallowed, he knows he’s been a very distant parent, barely interacting with his son over the last 15 years-not since Mattheo was a toddler and needed his father much more than he did now.

Voldemort struggles with his words, but he has to let Mattheo know how much he really cares.

“I never expected to be a father,” Voldemort admits, wringing his hands between his knees. Mattheo looks at him, his eyes wide-realizing what was happening, his father was opening up to him. “But upon making myself the dark lord, a ruler of the wizarding world, I knew I would need an heir. I married your mother because an heir needs a mother-and she was the only one I was comfortable with, making an heir with. I…” Voldemort swallowed, rubbing his brow.

 “I never expected you. I watched you be born, I was terrified your mother would pass while giving birth to you, like my mother had, but she didn’t-and you had arrived. You were so small,” his voice becomes quiet, his gaze distant, fond. “I was terrified I would hurt you by holding you, but your mother insisted. Holding you for the first time-i…I never knew what it meant to be a father, I hardly know how to be one still but…when I held you for the first time, you were no longer my heir-you were my son. My very first love. I’m…I’m sorry I’ve failed to show it all these years.”

Mattheo can feel the lump in his throat, and he takes a small breath; he can't help but leaning forward-wrapping his arms around his father, and for the first time since he was a toddler, his father hugs him back.

Mattheo’s mother watches from the doorway, smiling softly before walking away, knowing her husband and son had finally connected once more.

-end-

[esposamultifandom]

JACKED AND KIND

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Summary: you and Rafe do the ‘jacked and kind’ trend

AN: first time writing for Rafe kinda nervous. This one’s a short one guys, just testing the waters here. Also don’t know if anyone has done this yet, I haven’t seen one.

You saw the trend all over TikTok, I mean it was everywhere, guys were lifting their girlfriends up by their hips and sitting them on their shoulder without breaking a sweat and it made you a little jealous.

You didn’t have a boyfriend and you preferred it that way honestly, the men around weren’t much to choose from.

The only one that was is Rafe and he was your best friend. He’d do almost anything for you and that’s why you asked him to do the trend with you.

You were in your room sitting on your bed and Rafe was playing your play station that he got you a while ago so he could teach you how to play but mostly so he could when he was at your house hours at a time.

It was no secret that the gym had been treating rafe well, especially in the past few months you definitely noticed the growth so of course he’d ba able to do it.

You tossed your phone to the side, “Rafe” you called him. He hummed in acknowledgment not taking his eyes off of the game. “Can you do something with me?” You asked, that question caught his attention.

He paused the game, turning around in your gaming chair “do what” he tilted his head slightly. You smiled grabbing your phone, to show him.

He watched the guy lift his girl without so much as an effort. He smirked “isn’t that a couples trend?” He asked with raised brows.

You rolled your eyes “yes but I don’t have a boyfriend and, you’re the next best option. Plus I’m sure this’ll be a good way to show off your gym progress” you smirked wiggling your brows playfully. Rafe pushed your head back gently and you dramatically threw yourself onto your bed groaning. “Pleaseeee Rafe.” You begged.

Eventually he caved, much to your excitement. You sat your phone down and moved in front of Rafe and waited for his cue. And with no effort whatsoever you were lifted off of the ground and into his shoulder, you let out a squeal and an excited laugh.

Rafe smirked flexing his other arm making you laugh even more. When the video ended he placed you back on the ground and you rushed to the phone to see the video.

You watched the video with rage hovering over your shoulder “that was so hot” you said smirking at him.

“Shut up” he rolled his eyes, wishing that you actually meant it. Little did he know you did.

[esposamultifandom]

𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐔: 𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐛𝐟 𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐭𝐞𝐱𝐭𝐬 𝐩𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨

context: random texts with bf Rafe, here’s pt one (female pogue reader)

warnings: swearing and mentioned drugs and nudes

character: Rafe Cameron from Outer Banks

m.list

[esposamultifandom]

I can't stop thinking of Logan. With a reader who has no/very little experience with dating

I’m talking no relationship other than the one “boyfriend” you have when you’re twelve that you dump in a week because boys are gross. 

And this is absolutely me projecting, but when you go so long without having anyone attracted, or interested in you, it fucks with your brain. You start wondering what’s wrong with you, why no one seems to want you, you try everything but still. And you watch everyone around you have their teenage love stories, and can’t help but feel like you’re missing out on that, and can't help but blame yourself. Because there must be something wrong with you if no one wants you

So when Logan seems to be interested in you, you don’t think it can be real. Don’t think a guy as handsome, and sexy, and brave and strong and wonderful as he is can be interested in you.

(And this next bit is specifically for my chubby readers) You look at the other girls on the team, and yeah you’ve been told multiple times that you’re gorgeous, and stunning and pretty by your friends, but you look at their flat stomachs and thigh gaps and the way they fill out their costumes perfectly, and you wonder why on Earth Logan would ever want someone like you when he could have someone like them. And conclude it's a joke of some kind.

And maybe you talk too much, rambling about something only to stop in the middle when you realize not a single person is listening to you.

Logan on the other hand? Has no fucking clue how someone hasnt snatched you up yet. Because to him you are absolutely fucking incredible. You’re kind, sweet and gentle. You’re clever and talented and absolutely stunning. He loves looking at you, at how soft and beautiful you are, loves listening to you talk, the way your eyes light up when you talk about something you love. 

So when you first whirl on him, telling him to stop flirting with you, it isn’t a funny joke anymore, nearly in tears, he’s genuinely dumbfounded.

And let's get one thing straight. This man is not oblivious. He looks at more than he seems to. Notices the way you stare longingly at Jean and Scott, or Rogue and Gambit, at couples in public. See the way you suck in your tummy when around the team in costume, or the way you crop yourself out of pictures in uniform. Notices the way your face falls when you’re talking (And he’s listening, of course he's listening, he loves hearing you talk), and everyone just ignores and talks over you. He notices, and he hates it. 

So when you explain, pouring out all your doubts and insecurities and fears, he listens patiently, before gently saying. 

“Most people are fuckin idiots. You think I give a shit about if you have a tummy or if you talk too much or if you haven't done this before? You’re fucking stunning to me, prettiest thing in the world. I want you, darlin’. And nothings ever gonna change that”

And how can you not kiss him after that? 

Long story short, Logan might be your first boyfriend, but he's also going to be your first husband.

[esposamultifandom]

nepo boyfriend - fc43

summary: franco colapinto is dating leo messi's daughter, which makes him a "nepo boyfriend"

folkie radio: GUYSSS HERE IT IS! took me a minute to do this requests but there you have it. i had to educate myself on messi lore for this and omg he has the cutest love story with his wife, im obsessed lol. anyway, i hope you like this!

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

liked by francolapinto, olliebearman and 202,826 others

yn.messi home 🤍🇦🇷

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username1 IT GIRLLL

username2 coolest nepo baby

username3 ESPERA is that franco colapinto??

└ username1 she's been dating franco for years now 👀

└ username4 our boy stealing messi's daughter's heart purrrr

username5 little messi has a boyfriend???

└ username1 yeah he's literally argentina's next f1 star

francolapinto mi hogar está dondequiera que estés ♥️ [home is wherever you are]

└ yn.messi 🫂🤍

username6 imagine your dad being the most famous sportsman ever and dating a cute guy and wearing cute outfits. she has the dream life

username7 i can’t wait for franco to make it to f1 so they become the paddock it couple

liked by francolapinto, yn.messi and 509,268 others

williamsracing BREAKING: Franco Colapinto joins Williams Racing for the rest of the 2024 season. Welcome to the family, @/francolapinto!

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username1 OMFGGGGG

username2 poor logan but franco is really talented he deserves this chance !!

username3 HES SO CUTE HELLO??

yn.messi mi campeón 🫶✨ [my champion]

└ francolapinto ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

└ username1 LEO MESSI’S DAUGHTER??

alex_albon Welcome to the team mate!

└ francolapinto gracias Alex! Ready to learn 💪

username4 ARGENTINA IS BACK IN F1

leomessi 👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼

└ username2 LEO COMMENTING ON F1 POST??? history

└ username3 argentina’s pride and joy already

username5 IS HE SINGLE??? PLEASE TELL ME HE IS

username6 new fans you better learn the franco lore bc there’s plenty of it

username7 WAIT UNTIL YOU FIND OUT THAT-

liked by francolapinto, lilymhe and 389,766 others

yn.messi first of many. orgullosa de vos siempre 🤍 [proud of you always]

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username1 awe 🥹🥹🥹🥹

username2 MY BABIES

username3 THEY’RE TOGETHER ???

francolapinto gracias por todo mi amor ❤️ [thank you for everything my love]

└ username3 HE CALLED HER MI AMOR I'M CRYING

└ username1 someone check if i'm breathing

└ yourinstagram i love you!

username4 THE WAY SHE'S BEEN THERE SINCE FOREVER

└ username1 that's real love right there

└ username2 watching them grow together >>>>>>

williamsracing Our favorite supporter 💙

└ yn.messi 🫶🫶

lilymhe welcome! 🥹💗💗

username5 my girl really said forget football i'm going racing

└ username1 leo watching his princess date a racer instead of a footballer: 🧍‍♂️

└ username2 the crossover we didn't know we needed

username6 remember when we thought those pics in buenos aires were edited??

username7 THE MINI MESSI AND THE F1 DRIVER, THIS IS MY ROMAN EMPIRE

username8 first we got leo bringing us the world cup now franco in f1 🇦🇷

└ username2 and yn connecting both worlds, iconic behavior

username9 the way he looks at her in the first pic >>>>>

username10 IM SO CONFUSED RIGHT NOW

liked by username1, username2 and 56,827 others

f1gossip 🚨 Williams driver Franco Colapinto spotted with YN Messi (yes, THAT Messi's daughter) at dinner in Monaco

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username1 WAIT WHAT??? HOW DID WE NOT KNOW THIS

└ username2 they've literally been together for like four years 😭

└ username3 where have you been living?? under a rock??

username4 messi's daughter dating an f1 driver?? didn't see this coming

└ username2 she's been at every race supporting him!

username5 they're literally the cutest couple in f1 rn

username6 probably just wants messi's connections for sponsors tbh

└ username2 he literally got the williams seat on merit stfu

└ username3 tell me you know nothing about franco without telling me

username7 she could do better than a pay driver

└ username2 clearly you haven't watched a single f2 race

└ username3 worry about your own life challenge

└ username4 he's literally argentina's biggest racing talent in years

username8 why isn't she dating a footballer instead??

└ username2 because she can date whoever she wants??

username9 they've been together for ages, internet using internet internet explorer fr

└ username3 real ones remember their first spotting in buenos aires

username10 the amount of sponsorship money williams must be getting

username11 this is actually so cute. from f2 to f1 together

liked by username1, username2 and 5,028 others

francoupdates here are some pics of franco and yn messi through the years since some of you are new to this

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username1 THE WAY SHE'S ALWAYS BEEN HIS BIGGEST SUPPORTER 😭

username2 power couple since day ONE

username3 that pic of her at the pitwall watching him race >>>>>

└ username1 the way she still does this at every race 🥺

username4 REAL ONES HAVE BEEN HERE

username5 they were so tiny i can’t

username6 LOS AMO

username7 young yn watching franco race vs now analyzing his data

username8 here to spread the colapinto x messi agenda

username9 argentina’s it couple since forever

username10 SIMP BABY FRANCO I CANT

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by landonorris, yourinstagram and 1,023,477 others

francolapinto Points ✅ BZRP cap ✅ Nepo boyfriend things ✅

Gracias por el apoyo! [thank you for the support]

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username1 FRANCOOOO 😩😩

username2 he’s never letting the nepo boyfriend thing go i love him

username3 this divaaaa

yn.messi and they said dating messi's daughter got you the seat... weird way to spell pure talent

└ francolapinto clearly i'm the worst nepo boyfriend ever

└ francolapinto te amo hermosa ❤️

└ username1 HELP THEY'RE SO FUNNY TOGETHER

williamsracing More of this please! 💙

username4 worst nepo boyfriend ever actually delivers results

username5 embarrassing nepotism attempt tbh

username6 not him actually being talented and making us all proud

username7 THE ROOKIES BRINGING POINTS HOME

leomessi 🙌🙌 Vamos!

└ username1 JUST ICONIC

└ yn.messi the payment for his permanent seat is due next week don’t forget!

└ username2 IM SCREAMING

username8 the way they're both trolling the haters i love them sm

liked by francolapinto, alexandrasaintmleux and 402,277 others

yn.messi mi lugar favorito [my favorite place] 🤍 pit stop before mexico city

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username1 AWEEEEE

username2 how can anyone hate this couple

username3 THE. HAND. PLACEMENT.

francolapinto perdiste en fifa mi amor [you lost in fifa]

└ yn.messi te dejo ganar 😌 [i let you win]

└ landonorris exposed by your own girlfriend mate

└ username1 I LOVE THEM SO BAD

leomessi ❤️

username4 this is what we mean by relationship goals

username5 THE WAY SHE EXPOSED HIM ABOUT FIFA 😭

username6 football royalty 🤝 f1

username7 this is such a great crossover i can’t

username8 LOS AMO [i love them]

lilyhme 💗💗

username9 taking franco to her dad’s matches 🥹🥹

username10 i’m so parasocial about them

liked by username1, yn.messi and 12,043 others

francoupdates Franco opens up about his relationship with YN Messi in recent interview:

"I met her at an event in Argentina back in 2019. She didn't even know what DRS was back then and now she corrects my racing lines in the sim. We grew up together through all this - F3, F2, now F1. She's been there through the tough times, sleeping in paddocks, the uncertain seasons. The nepotism jokes are funny because if you knew how many nights we spent budgeting for the next race... Being Leo Messi's daughter was never part of our story. It was just YN and Franco, trying to make it work while chasing a dream and loving each other very much”

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username1 NOT ME CRYING OVER THIS

username2 NOT HIM SAYING SHE CORRECTS HIS RACING LINES 😭

└ yn.messi someone has to 🤷🏻‍♀️

└ username1 HI YN I LOVE YOU 😭

username3 "just YN and Franco" 🥺

└ username2 this is actually so wholesome

username4 "budgeting for the next race" but they said nepotism 🙄

username5 THIS IS THE PUREST THING EVER

username6 MY CORAZON [my heart]

username7 haters don’t know a single thing about their story, they have been soulmates for years now

username8 cute but we do need messi connections for that seat 😩

username9 IF THEY DONT GET MARRIED ISTG

username10 real ones have been here since that buenos aires spotting

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───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

francolapinto added to their stories

[the prettiest is ready for vegas]

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by yn.messi, williamsracing and 678,923 others

francolapinto 3 more races let's gooo! ready to prove nepotism requires talent sometimes 😌✌🏼 (yn stop rolling your eyes at my jokes mi amor)

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username1 I LOVE HIM SO BAD

username2 he’s never letting the nepo boyfriend jokes go

yn.messi i'll stop rolling my eyes when you stop missing apex points honey 😘

└ francolapinto MI AMOR WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS

└ alex_albon she's got data to back this up mate

└ williamsracing YN: 1, Franco: 0

└ username1 I LOVE THEM SM

username3 NOT YN ROASTING HIS RACING LINES IN THE COMMENTS

└ username4 MOTHER CHOSE VIOLENCE TODAY

username5 no one can convince me they aren’t the best couple ever

username6 bro got called a nepo boyfriend once and now that’s his brand

landonorris 😂😂😂

username7 okay but when is messi going to get franco a seat fr

username8 worst nepo kid ever he doesn’t even have a seat yeat

liked by username1, username2 and 43,022 others

f1gossip Franco Colapinto and YN Messi spotted getting cozy at XS Nightclub in Vegas after qualifying 🎰 Apparently someone forgot Papa Messi might see these 👀

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username1 FRANCO BABY WHAT ARE YOU DOING LEO'S GONNA SEE THIS 💀

└ username2 man's risking it all before his first full season

username2 breaking: franco colapinto will not race tomorrow due to mysterious disappearance

└ username3 leo messi spotted buying a plane ticket to vegas

username4 it was nice knowing you franco 😭

username5 WILLIAMS RACING SUDDENLY LOOKING FOR NEW DRIVER

username6 someone check on franco pls

username7 pov: you forgot your girlfriend's dad is literally lionel messi

username8 leo messi about to show up at williams garage

username9 THEY’RE SO CUTE THO

username10 MY PARENTS ACTUALLY

liked by francolapinto, lilymhe and 401,827 others

yn.messi vegas was fun ‼️ papi please don’t check your phone

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username1 HEEEEEELPP

username2 BESTIE YOU’RE INSANE

alex_albon Kids these days.. they don’t know how you behave

└ username1 imagine alex just babysitting them at the club 😭

username3 BABY WE ALL SAW THE PICS

username4 just in: leonel messi spotted planning vehicular manslaughter

username5 FRANCO MOVE TO ANTARTICA ITS NOT TOO LATE

francolapinto i’m scared..

└ username1 WE ALL ARE

└ username2 THIS IS TOO FUNNY

francolapinto hermosa 😍😍

└ username3 he said yup my gf’s dad could kill me but i’m still thirsting over her

username6 CAUGHT IN 4K AND FULL HD

landonorris 😂😂😂😂 never a dull day with y’all

username7 franco consider witness protection

username8 DROP THE HAIR ROUTINE QUEENIE

alexandrasaintmleux been there donde that…

username9 there goes your possible seat franco leo messi is not paying for it anymore

username10 MENACES

liked by username1, username2 and 29,726 others

francoupdates Franco with one of YN’s little brothers in Qatar! The Messi’s are there to watch him race 🥹

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username1 OH MY LORDDDDD

username2 THIS IS SO CUTE IM MELTING

username3 her dad is there to have a chat with franco about those pictures in las vegas

username4 FRANCO SEAT CONFIRMATION INCOMING

username5 this is so adorable and the fact that yn’s brothers know him since they were born lrettt much 🥹🥹

username6 FRANCO YOU’RE SO LOVED

username7 leo be like: hello franco i just want to talk

username8 ARGENTINA’S ROYALTY

username9 yn tried to hide her dad’s phone and he just showed up at the paddock with the whole fam

username10 I LIVE FOR THIS

liked by username1, username2 and 43,098 others

f1gossip"Yeah, no pressure right? But honestly, they're like my second family now. Leo's probably more nervous than me - he keeps sending me good luck messages. Thiago and Mateo have been explaining F1 to Ciro all week. And YN... well, she's in bossy mode so she's more focused on telling me where I'm losing time than giving good luck kisses. But having them here means everything." - Franco talking about his girlfriend's family watching him race in Qatar!

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username1 THE WAY HE GETS SHY TALKING ABOUT THEM

username2 leo sending good luck texts is killing me

username3 YN REALLY SAID RACING LINES > KISSES

username4 imagine getting good luck texts from messi 😭

username5 VAMOS FRANCOOOO

username6 messi family taking over qatar paddock we love to see it

username7 NEPO BOYFRIEND THINGSSS

username8 yn's dad is there to buy franco a set soooo trueee

username9 GOOD LUCK KISSES 🥺

username10 the way he lights up mentioning yn though └ username1 even if she's roasting his racing lines 😭

liked by yn.messi, landonorris and 1,026,287 others

francolapinto Special helmet for Qatar 🇶🇦Celebrando la copa del mundo [celebrating the world cup] ⭐️⭐️⭐️ Had to honor the greatest of all time and well... my future father in law 😅 Gracias Leo por todo [thank you for everything], specially for not killing me for dating your daughter

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username1 FRANCO OMFG

username2 HE REALLY DID THIS

yn.messi "future father in law" someone's feeling brave today

└ francolapinto had to shoot my shot mi amor

└ username1 HE REALLY WANTS TO DIE TODAY

└ leomessi 👀

username3 DID HE JUST- IS THIS A PROPOSAL HINT???

└ username2 MAN'S REALLY ANNOUNCING HIS INTENTIONS ON MAIN

username4 FRANCO CHOOSING VIOLENCE TODAY

username5 bro using a helmet reveal to ask for blessing, respect

landonorris At least the man’s got game 😂

username6 HELP DID HE JUST SOFT LAUNCH A PROPOSAL

└ username1 leo reading that caption: 🔪

username7 future father in law... franco woke up fearless

username8 LATINO GANG RISE UP VAMOS FRANCO

username9 THE WAY HE JUST ANNOUNCED HIS DEATH WISH

williamsracing Lovely helmet design! Also, security has been increased around the garage

alex_albon might need witness protection after this one mate

└ yn.messi don't worry guys papa already knew about the helmet

└ francolapinto MI AMOR YOU COULD'VE LED WITH THAT 😭

username10 never beating the nepo boyfriend allegations

username11 buttering messi up so he can buy him a seat we know

liked by lilymhe, francolapinto and 402,389 others

yn.messi my nepo boyfriend who couldn't even get a point in his first race just finished his first formula 1 season 🥹 so proud of you mi amor, from watching you race karts to F1... i'd say dating the goat’s daughter worked out pretty well 😌❤️ @/francolapinto

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username1 THIS IS SO CUTE

username2 the second pic i’m SOBBING

francolapinto from being the worst nepo boyfriend to getting points... all thanks to you mi amor ❤️

└ yn.mesi you're still the worst nepo boyfriend but i love you

└ alex_albon get a room you two

williamsracing Nepo strategy successful ✅

username3 living the nepo dream fr

username4 THE WAY SHE'S ALWAYS BEEN HIS BIGGEST SUPPORTER 😭

username5 from karting girlfriend to f1 wag upgrade

username6 they keep bringing up the nepo boyfriend thing 😭

└ username1 she'll never let him live it down

username7 YN AND FRANCO SUPREMACY

username8 the nepo jokes never get old

alexandrasaintmleux 🥹🥹🥹🥹

leomessi Estamos muy orgullosos ❤️

└ username1 THIS IS SO ADORABLE

└ username2 franco you’re so loved

username8 SHE'S SO PROUD OF HIM I'M CRYING

└ username2 the way she never stops teasing him though

username9 MY PARENTS SINCE THAT FIRST BUENOS AIRES SPOTTING

username10 OUR BEST WAG NEEDS TO STAY

liked by yn.messi, landonorris and 1,011,965 others

francolapinto What a year... Couldn't have done this without my biggest supporter since karting days @/yn.messi ❤️ Thank you for believing in me even when I was "the worst nepo boyfriend" 😅

And to the entire Messi family - gracias por hacerme sentir parte de la familia desde el primer día. Leo, gracias por confiarme lo más precioso que tienen (y por no matarme todavía).

[thank you for making me feel part of the family since day one. Leo, thank you for trusting me with your most precious treasure (and for not killing me yet).]

Time to work harder for 2025 💪🏼

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username1 FRANCOOO OMFG

username2 this is so CUTE

yn.messi still the worst nepo boyfriend but i guess you're MY worst nepo boyfriend ❤️

└ francolapinto te amo mi amor

└ username1 THEY’RE THE CUTEST

username3 “trusting me with your most precious treasure” IM DEADDDD

username4 man wrote a whole love letter to the messis

└ username1 AS HE SHOULD

leomessi You’re family 🤍 [eres familia]

username5 NOT LEO SAYING HE'S FAMILY I'M CRYING

└ username2 from fearing leo to being adopted by him

williamsracing Family ✅ Points ✅ 2025 loading...

└ username3 GIVE HIM A SEAT

username6 THE SECOND PIC, THEY WERE LITTLE BABIES

username7 THE WAY HE THANKED THE WHOLE FAMILY 😭

└ username1 securing that messi blessing

[esposamultifandom]

Eye of the Storm

Your desk partner leaves his notebook after class, and you’re struck by the beauty of its contents.

This is part 1! Purely build up in this, so not much fluff and no smut.

college au, mattheo riddle x fem!reader, theo nott being a little oblivious, use of y/n, i think that's it

w/c: 627

masterlist part 2

a/n: was this supposed to be a oneshot? yes. did it turn into a multiple part story? also yes. (Shout out to an irl friend for helping come up with the title!! ily A)

Divination has never been your favorite class. Not because you’re bad at it, you’re actually quite an accomplished student, but because your desk partner was a nuisance.

Mattheo Riddle was the epitome of chaos. And the fact that nobody took Trelawney’s class seriously definitely didn’t help. He wouldn’t even show up half of the time. But when he did, he barely worked. He would just be scribbling in that notebook of his – the one he’s so protective of. “What’s in that notebook? It looks so beat up,” you asked once, leaning forward to get a better look. He immediately snapped the pages shut, “none of your business,” he told you. You haven’t mentioned it since.

But strangely enough, he’s been coming to class pretty consistently this past week. Not like he pays attention, though. And today was no different. His nose was stuck in his notebook, his hand gripping a pencil tight as he scribbled madly. He rarely looked up, but when he did, it was at you. 

You brushed it off, however, telling yourself that he's just making sure you're not trying to sneak another peak at whatever it is he's so wrapped up in. Why would he be looking at you anyway? Or maybe you had something in your teeth.

By the time class ended, Mattheo had already rushed out. But strangely enough, he forgot his notebook. That was a first. He usually never goes anywhere without it. So, being the good person you are, you stuffed it in your bag and walked out the door – deciding that you would give it to him when you see him next. 

The day passed by, and Mattheo was nowhere to be seen. Classes finally ended, and you strolled the halls looking for the Slytherin. After half an hour of looking, you gave up, deciding to wander the halls aimlessly. However, you were broken out of your reverie when you crashed into someone. You stumbled back, apologizing profusely. 

“Shit- sorry,” a deep voice says. It had a hint of an Italian accent – was it Theo? 

You looked up, and sure enough, your hunch was right. The tall European stood in front of you, looking down at the books that fell from your bag. Among them was Mattheo’s notebook. And it fell open to a page full of drawings, one of which caught your attention. It was an eye, drawn in exquisite detail. It was beautiful; the shading, delicate pencil strokes, the way he somehow was able to capture such raw emotion in such a little piece of art. It was truly mesmerizing. 

You quickly dropped down and began to pick up the books sprawled out on the floor, putting Mattheo’s notebook away first. He never let you see what was inside, so you might as well try not to let Theo look at it any longer. 

“Was… that your eye?” Theo asked, startling you. You didn’t even realize it was yours. All you could focus on was the sheer talent radiating from the page. You stood back up, slinging the bag back over your shoulder. 

“I don’t know,” you admitted. Deciding to change the subject, you asked, “Anyway, sorry for bumping into you.” 

“It’s quite alright, bella. You didn’t get hurt, did you?”

“No, no. I’m perfectly okay. Um… have you seen Mattheo? He left something of his in class,” you questioned.

“Left something in class? Are you sure you’re alright, y/n? The man never attends lectures. You should know that,” he chided, but the look on his face was one of concern.

“Okay, well, forget I said anything,” you blurted. And with that, you hurried away to your dorm, your quick footsteps ringing off the stone floors – a storm of mortification and curiosity warring within you. 

This was an extremely short fic, but I hope you enjoyed it!! Let me know what you think! And as always, let me know if you want to be added to the tag list!

[esposamultifandom]

Crybaby

Soft!Mattheo Riddle x Hufflepuff!Fem!Reader

Warnings: Some mild swears, nothing spicy... for now.

Summary: Every time Mattheo sees you cry and falls in love with you for it.

A/N: This is my first fic EVER! I was too excited to get it proof read by my bestie so all mistakes are my own. Check the tags at the end for a funny surprise.

Word Count: 7,300+ (Sorry, I went crazy)

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Mattheo had never been one of those who could be influenced by tears. With who his father was he learned very quickly as a child that tears equated to weakness, and weakness was never allowed. 

Even at times where previous flings had sobbed after being tossed aside or cried for cuddles after sex, it didn’t move him. After all, he’d always made it clear that he wasn’t a romantic. He’d have his fun and move on, he never gave any indication that it would be more meaningful than that. Because of this he’d been called a “cold hearted bastard” more times than he could count. 

Which is why the first time he saw you cry he swore something was wrong with him. Seeing your puffy, red cheeks, your quivering, plump bottom limp and wide, watery eyes he felt like someone sent a stinging hex right to his gut. Your eyes were trained right on a laughing Enzo. 

Now it wasn’t completely uncommon for Enzo to make a girl cry. After all, he too would flirt his way into one of their classmates beds from time to time. Though Enzo prided himself on having a kind, prince-like persona publicly, so he kept all of his trysts and crying ex-lovers deeply hidden from public view. So it was unusual for Enzo to be seen with a crying girl in public, right in the middle of the hallway near the potions classroom. 

The closer Mattheo got the clearer he could see that you had not actually cried yet. Your eyes were full of unshed tears, and by the look of your puffed up cheeks and bitten bottom lip you were clearly attempting not to cry. Oddly to him, this didn’t lessen the weird sensation in his stomach. It only made him slightly angry at his friend for a reason he couldn’t even name. 

Your eyes flickered to him for a brief moment before settling back on a smiling Enzo. 

“Fine,” you said in a defeated tone, “You win. You can borrow my notes for Transfiguration. But this is the last time Enzo!”

Enzo’s smile widened as he picked you up in an embrace and spun you around. Immediately your face brightened and your giggles echoed in the empty hallway.

“That’s my favorite Hufflepuff!” Enzo teased, ruffling your hair, “Next time just agree before you lose another bet and turn into a little crybaby.” 

Your giggles turned into a playful pout, “Hey! You cheated! You have longer legs than I do! And the staircase moved on my way down! You’d cry too if you ran as much as I did and still lost.” 

Enzo let out a chuckle and shook his head, “Well maybe don’t propose a race next time. It was your idea after all. I play quidditch love, there isn’t a world in which you win against me.”  

“Whatever, I’ll win the next bet, you’ll see!” 

You stuck your tongue out at Enzo and turned around, walking away from Enzo much more cheerfully than Mattheo expected for a girl whose eyes were bursting with tears when he walked into this hallway. 

“In your dreams love!” Enzo called after you, earning a swift middle finger from behind your back. Mattheo stopped behind Enzo, pure confusion over witnessing the entire interaction between you two. The assumption that you were one of Enzo’s fangirls or jilted ex-lovers was clearly off the table, but he still couldn’t make sense of the welled up tears in your eyes.

“Girl trouble Enz?” Mattheo hummed, curiosity thoroughly peaked by you and the strange feelings you brought on. 

Enzo, now aware that Mattheo had witnessed the entire exchange smirked, “Nah, nothing like that. She’s just fun to tease, is all.” And with that Enzo ducked into the Potions classroom, leaving Mattheo not entirely satisfied with the answer. Nonetheless, he brushed off his gut feelings and whatever thoughts swirled in his head. He likely wouldn’t have an opportunity to interact with you again, he and his friends never kept one girl around too long, even if she was entertaining. 

Shaking himself out of his thoughts, he followed after Enzo to their table in class. 

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When Mattheo entered the Slytherin common room after smoking in the Astronomy Tower he was not prepared to find you on the couch with Enzo, this time actually crying. Though you were also laughing hysterically because Enzo happened to be tickling your feet. 

“How dare you! How dare you say I’m not your favorite Slytherin!” Enzo chided, gleeful smile on his face as he tickled the sock covered soles of your feet. He slowed to a stop, holding your ankles in his lap to keep you from escaping. 

“I didn’t say you weren’t!” You giggled, voice breathless because of your laughter, “I said I don’t know the other Slytherins so I can’t pick a favorite!” 

Enzo smirked, “Not good enough!”, and with that he resumed tickling your feet. Your laughter and squeals bouncing around the common room. 

Mattheo couldn’t help but stare, he and the guys never brought girls to the dorms, and certainly never sat together in the common room. Your yellow skirt and robe were a beacon in the dark and cold that was the Slytherin common room, Salazar Slytherin himself would have a conniption if he saw a giggling Hufflepuff on the couch. And yet, there you were with Enzo, both laughing as if this was not peculiar at all. 

“Say it! Say I’m your favorite!” Enzo demanded, his fingers still torturing the pads of your feet. 

“Okay!” You laughed, “Enzo is my favorite Slytherin!” You were attempting to wiggle your ankles free from Enzo’s grasp and escape the tickling torture but Enzo kept an iron grip, not satisfied with your answer. 

“And?” 

“And I’ll always share my notes with him!” You squealed, completely out of breath from all the laughter. Enzo, seemingly satisfied with your answer finally released your feet, which you immediately tucked under your lap, still wheezing from laughter. 

“Enzo,” you huffed, “You’re a spoiled brat, you know that?” 

“You love it, crybaby.” Enzo winked. His head turned and noticed Mattheo staring at them, still trying to make sense of the scene before him. “Mattheo! Come here, meet my little Hufflepuff!” 

Mattheo strode over and sat on the chair opposite to them, eyes flickering between the two of them. The addition of his presence made you seem more shy now, as if you were embarrassed to be caught with Enzo like this, you refused to make eye contact with him and your cheeks were a little blushed. 

“Y/N this is Mattheo, Mattheo this is Y/N. She’s my transfiguration partner and the cutest girl in Hogwarts.” 

Your blush seemed to bloom even redder from the compliment. But your eyes shyly made contact with him and a soft smile graced your face. 

“Hi, ignore Enzo, he’s just trying to get into my good graces after tickle torturing me and making me tutor him for two hours.” 

Mattheo muttered a low ‘hello’ and quietly trudged to his room, door slamming with much more force than he intended. His heart was pounding and he felt surge of envy towards Enzo. 

Enzo was right, you were cute, and even though your face was streaked with laughter induced tears and wild hair from wiggling on the couch, Mattheo thought you looked adorable. He’d never thought that tears could be cute before, but there you were with a soft smile and bubbling laughter. These thoughts and feelings were all new to him, it made him feel suffocated and embarrassed, but he was Mattheo Riddle for Salazar’s Sake! Mattheo Riddle doesn’t run from anything, let alone cute girls. Yet he knew he couldn’t just sit there under your pretty gaze and risk making a fool of himself. Enzo would never let him live it down.

Outside in the common room he could hear you ask Enzo if you said something wrong. Now he felt like an asshole, of course you were too sweet to think he was the problem. Mattheo closed his eyes and flopped onto his bed. He could hear Enzo comfort you, saying ‘Mattheo’s just an ass’ and offering to walk you back to your dorm. 

For whatever reason, hearing that made him sort of agitated. He wanted to walk you to your dorm, and he’d be his usual charming self and make you laugh and blush, then you’d direct your smile at him and maybe that’d make him feel better. Maybe he’d even kiss you, and that thought warmed him in a different way. Mattheo groaned, just thinking of kissing you burned his mind with other ideas, less innocent things with you, where your sweet, shy smile turned into something sultry and pleading, he could feel his dick harden and more thoughts bloomed, each one more tantalizing than the last. 

Mattheo’s door opened and Enzo walked in with Theo following behind. Theo just looked at him, nodding casually before turning to his side of the room, but Enzo’s eyes were dancing with mischief, a Cheshire grin already etched into his face. 

“Very smooth, Matty-boy.” Enzo teased. 

Mattheo fixed him with a glare, he hated when anyone called him Matty. “Don’t call me that, and I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

Enzo’s smile widened, eyes alight, “Oh no? You don’t want to talk about how cute, little Y/N said one sentence to you and you ran off?” 

Theo’s head shot up at that, looking between his two dorm mates with mild interest. Theo always had an uncanny way of reading Mattheo, which right now really irked him since Enzo was stirring the pot. 

“I didn’t run off, I’m tired.” Mattheo grumbled, “Why did you even bring her here? We don’t bring flings here.” He had a feeling there was no such relationship between you and Enzo, but he couldn’t help but try and fish for more information.

“You brought a girl here?” Theo asked incredulously, his interest now fully invested.

Enzo rolled his eyes, “She’s not a fling, we’re friends. We were doing homework together after we got kicked out of the library.” 

“Didn’t seem like homework when you were tickling her.” Mattheo grumbled, the memory flashing in his mind with a new wave of annoyance. 

“You were tickling a girl here?” Theo echoed. 

“Jealous?” Enzo directed at Mattheo before he turned to Theo, “Theo, she’s a Hufflepuff and so much fun to mess with. It’s not like that.”

“So, you wouldn’t mind if I flirted with her?” Theo drawled. Mattheo’s head snapped to Theo, he could feel acid in his throat thinking of Theo flirting with you. Theo’s eyes were already on him, eyebrow quirked, his expression knowing. Mattheo glared back at him and turned away, he knew he shouldn’t care what Theo or Enzo did with you, but he did, and that pissed him off more.

Enzo laughed wholeheartedly, “Sure, but if you’re not serious she’ll sniff out your bullshit. When I first met her I flirted with her for her notes and she stepped on my foot so hard I had to go to Madam Pomfrey!” 

Theo chuckled, “Alright, so she’s off limits then.”  

“You’re fucking right she is. I actually do want to be friends with her, I don’t need you assholes scarring her for life with your flirting. It’s already going to be an uphill battle with how hellish Draco and Pansy can be.”

“So we’ll be seeing more of her?” Theo questioned, and for once Mattheo was glad for Theo’s inquisitive nature, the same question burning in his mind. He wanted to see more of Y/N, his mind flickering back to those not so innocent thoughts. 

“Yeah, probably.” And with that, the conversation seemed to be over, Mattheo’s lack of talking not going unnoticed by his two friends. They shared a look, coming to the exact same seemingly impossible conclusion: Mattheo had a crush. 

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Enzo’s casual affirmation was an understatement, as the next day he invited his Hufflepuff to sit with them in the Great Hall at breakfast. She was smiling up at Enzo when he brought her over, then turning her smile to all of them at the table. She shot Mattheo a shy smile and wave before settling between Enzo and Blaise. 

Pansy and Draco both offering indifferent greetings before turning to each other and continuing their conversation. Theo, Blaise and you began an intense discussion about potions, Enzo offering a comment here and there while he ate breakfast. Mattheo could only look around at his friends in confusion, his group not known to be friendly with people outside of Slytherin, or even with others in Slytherin for that matter. Draco and Pansy being the worst of two but they barely even acknowledged you and continued what they were doing. Blaise and Theo were known to be standoffish and yet here they were joking with you about potions. 

“They know her, dumbass.” 

Mattheo’s eyes shot to Enzo across from him, his face looking smug. Everyone else was so wrapped up in their conversations they didn’t hear what Enzo had whispered. 

“What?” Mattheo asked.

“You look confused,” Enzo clarified, stopping to take a bite of his Apple, “They all know her, she’s been in all of our classes since second year.”

Mattheo nodded in understanding, eyes flickering back to the sweet Hufflepuff, who had now drawn Pansy and Draco into the conversation, the five of them debating whether or not Professor Snape used shampoo. Her face was glowing with happiness, every time she laughed he could see the flutter of her full lashes. His mind echoed the strange desire to count each lash. 

He liked her laughing. The two times he’d seen her teary he thought she’d been cute, the frustration tears from chasing Enzo and the tears from laughing too hard, it was easy to find her adorable, but seeing her carefree and laughing filled his chest with yearning, he wanted her light to shine on him, even just for a moment. Yes, he much preferred her like this, hopefully he wouldn’t have to see her cry for a long while. 

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Mattheo didn’t know how many different ways someone could cry until he met you. 

Now fully adopted into his friend group he’s seen you cry over something with each of his friends and it confused him. He always assumed crying meant a person felt sad, that there were no other reasons to cry. The first time he saw tears in your eyes he added exhaustion as an acceptable reason to cry. Then he added laughter after the common room tickle incident. He figured that’d be it.

Until he found you and Pansy swaddled in blankets in her room listening to a muggle artist named Olivia Rodrigo and eating ice cream. He’d only stopped by to return a book he borrowed from Pansy the week before, he knocked and the door cracked open and he saw your tear streaked face and Pansy huddled on the floor, her face was turned away from him but he heard her sniffles. 

He fumbled out an explanation about the book and you accepted it from him with a small smile. After the door had closed he heard the music blast to full volume. 

He’d never thought Pansy would ever cry, she’d always felt like such expressions were beneath her. He was also very much confused on why you were crying, which made him worried something had happened to both of you. It wasn’t until later that Theo and Enzo told him that Pansy and Luna had broken up and you had decided some girl time was much needed to “feel your feelings” and listen to sad songs.

He’d never considered sympathy crying, but there you were with Pansy, sharing her pain. He admired you for it, your kindness knowing no limits.

The next day Pansy threatened to cut off his dick if he ever told anyone he’d seen her cry, though he was honest and said he actually hadn’t seen anything, and she seemed comforted by that fact. After Pansy seemed to be lighter almost, and she became as protective of you as Enzo, which became clear after Adrian Pucey cornered you in the hallway to harass you for a date. Enzo broke his nose and Pansy sent a hex that had Adrian vomiting hair clumps for a week. Mattheo would deny it but he also paid Adrian a visit after the hex had worn off and threatened a whole lot worse than a broken nose and a gross hex if Adrian so much as breathed in your direction.

The lust Mattheo felt for you still burned but there was something else, something new to him. Something that made him want to comfort you and protect you, to have you look for him for safety. Now, he didn’t just want your body, he wanted your undivided attention. 

Mattheo tried to brush off these thoughts. He was no romantic, you were too sweet and nice to get wrapped up in something with him. As soon as it ended, you’d be crushed and Pansy and Enzo would likely make him suffer for hurting you. He told himself he just felt this way because you were friends, and friends is what you’d have to stay to be safe from him. 

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Quidditch hardly interested you, Mattheo found out. Occasionally you volunteered with Madam Pomfrey and you’d seen enough quidditch injures to give you too much anxiety to watch the game. So whenever he and the boys played you’d skip up to them with boxes of baked goods to wish them luck and left on your merry way to watch the infirmary so Madam Pomfrey could supervise the game.

Surprisingly, Draco had been won over through his stomach. His indifference morphed into a kind of bland acknowledgement until he’d gotten the first good luck treats of the season, then he became outright friendly towards you. But when he’d caught the snitch the first time that year you’d made the whole team a whole fleet of chocolate lava cakes and candied fruit. Draco had sworn all of it was for him but after that he had taken on a kind of pseudo-brother relationship with you.

Conversely, you and Blaise bonded over your distinguished and varied adoration of books, often times swapping between yourselves. Blaise alleged that you were the only one he could read around because you weren’t “a distracting idiot” like Enzo and Draco or “an eternal gossip” like Pansy, but Mattheo could see that Blaise just had a soft spot for you like everyone in the group. Every time they went to Hogsmeade together you and Blaise would peel off to Flourish and Blotts, always coming back with more books. Of course, Blaise being chivalrous meant you never carried your own books despite your protests. The more time they spent in Hogsmeade the longer your books would get passed around to be carried until they always landed in Mattheo’s hands. Though he didn’t mind because you would smile sweetly at him when they returned to Hogwarts and thanked him for carrying your books. 

Yes, Draco and Blaise had become like brothers to you. So when Madam Pomfrey rushed them to the infirmary both bruised with multiple broken bones Mattheo had seen all the color drain from your face.

None of the team was allowed to be in the infirmary so the last thing he could see was your crushed expression and tears welling up in your eyes. Theo, Pansy, Enzo and him had paced outside the hallway until Madam Pomfrey had shooed them away to go rest, telling them they could visit in the morning. 

Mattheo had hardly slept the entire night. His two friends unconscious and battered and your crestfallen face had haunted him. As soon as he could reasonably leave the dorm he rushed to the infirmary. Madam Pomfrey pursed her lips upon seeing him, knowing he had not rested but allowed him to visit anyway, despite it still being too early. 

Draco and Blaise laid in their beds, looking much better than when they’d arrived. Whatever Madam Pomfrey had given them was slowly repairing the bones and easing the bruising on their bodies, their sleeping faces looked peaceful so it was clear they weren’t in pain. In between the two of their beds was you, huddled into yourself on a chair. 

Hearing Mattheo approach had made you lift your head from the floor. Your eyes were puffy from exhaustion, your usual bright smile gone and replaced by a mournful frown. You were wearing the same clothes from yesterday so he knew you’d stayed by their side all night and likely not slept. 

He stood in front of you, not sure what to say and as he looked at you he saw fresh tears gather in your eyes and your lip was trembling. Before he could say anything you’d lept from the chair and wrapped your arms around him, holding him tightly as silent sobs wracked your body. 

Mattheo had never been hugged like this. He was fairly certain he’d never been hugged ever. But here you were, clinging to him and crying into his chest. His heart ached feeling your tears soak into his shirt, you couldn’t keep your sobs silent anymore, now fully weeping on him. He wrapped his arms around you and rested his head on top of yours. 

He just held you as you bawled. Though this situation was less than ideal it felt good that he could be here for you, comforting you. Your body was enveloped in his and he was reminded how small you were, so fragile but so strong at the same time. He wondered how long you’d held yourself together before he got here. That thought made him embrace you tighter, at least he could be here for you now. He told himself he’d keep holding you until you were ready to let go.

Your sobs had turned into little whimpers and sniffles, but you didn’t let go of him. Your head stirred underneath him and he looked down at you, seeing you staring up at him. Your wide eyes glassy and cheeks red, dried tear tracks on your face. The word beautiful flashed through his mind, somehow no matter what you did you always managed to look perfect to him. 

“T-thanks Matty,” you voice quivered, “Er, I mean Mattheo.” Your cheeks were already red from crying, though Mattheo desperately wanted to believe they got a little bit pinker.

“You can call me Matty.” His voice was somewhat hoarse and raspy from fatigue. Her lips quirked up slightly and then she sighed and closed her eyes. 

She slowly unwrapped her arms from him and dropped them to her side, looking back at Draco and Blaise. His body felt empty and cold after you let go, he felt the urge to pull you back but stifled it, as exhaustion was currently winning over his body.

Mattheo looked around and saw a spare blanket and two pillows. He quickly grabbed them, dropping them on the floor between the two beds with his friends. He sat on the floor, with one pillow behind his head against the wall. He pat the spot next to him and down you came, sitting next to him with the other pillow behind your head. He spread the blanket over the two of you and your head came to rest against his shoulder. His eyes closed and then sleep claimed the both of you.

He woke up to a flick on his forehead. He was still propped up against the wall with you ully leaned against his body, still dozing. Draco stood in front of him, the obvious perpetrator of the flick against his head, he was changed out of the hospital clothing but had various bandages and wraps on his body. Blaise was next to him leaning against the hospital bed he’d been spent the night in in, displaying a similar number of bandages. Both of them wearing smirks on their faces aimed at Mattheo and the Hufflepuff curled against him.

“Cozy?” Draco teased. 

Mattheo rolled his eyes with a smile, clearly his friends were alright if they were feeling up to making fun of him. 

“She stayed here all night for you dopes and we were tired,” Mattheo grunted, “Clearly you’re both feeling better though.” 

His friend’s teasing smirks fell and they looked guiltily at the sleeping girl. 

“Y’know she’s going to fuss over us when she wakes up.” Blaise admitted, Draco nodded with a sigh.

“She’ll probably cry.” Draco sighed. Not one of the three boys were looking forward to seeing their friend cry.

“I’ve gotta start carrying around some tissues for her,” Mattheo blurted. Blaise and Draco laughed at that, nodding in agreement and joking the whole group should start carrying some.  

The boys’ laughter stirred the Hufflepuff and she blinked her tired eyes open. At seeing Blaise and Draco awake and standing in front of her she shot right up, discarding the blanket on the floor.

“Blaise! Draco! Oh thank Merlin! How are you feeling? Are you supposed to be standing up? Do you need water? I’ll go get Madam Pomfrey to clean your bandages!” You rattled off, mind clearly spinning off with things to help the two injured Quidditch players. Luckily Blaise grabbed your hand, pulling you from your thoughts.

“We’re fine. Madam Pomfrey is letting us go today. We’re coming back everyday for the next week for the medicine and check ups.” Blaise seemed to sooth you with this, you nodded absentmindedly. Without your brain taking over you really looked at Draco and Blaise and, just as the boys predicted, you started shedding tears. You grabbed both boys and pulled them towards you, both giving you a half hug as you cried. Through your sobs you started babbling your relief about how they were both okay and making them promise to never have to come here half comatose they way they did. 

In the span of a couple of hours your waterworks had turned from fear to relief and Mattheo was glad to see his friends being fussed over by someone so sweet and caring. Your tears were short lived, as Blaise and Draco did their best to make you smile. Your sniffling turned to giggles when Draco’s stomach made a loud gurgle and he moaned about being starving, in typical dramatic Malfoy fashion. 

You had stepped away to thank Madam Pomfrey for allowing you to stay and taking care of your friends. Though the older woman swore it was her job to care for all students and softly chided you for sleeping on the floor even she seemed to fall victim to your charm, hurrying you out the infirmary and promising to see you next time you volunteered. 

“Mr. Riddle, a word please.” Madam Pomfrey said before he could follow you, Draco and Blaise out the door. He nodded to his friends that he’d catch up with them, trying not to think too hard about your worried look.

“I do try not to meddle in my student’s affairs,” Madam Pomfrey started, “But my dear apprentice has been here since midday yesterday and hasn’t eaten anything or slept, aside from your two hour nap on the floor,” the older woman gave a quick glare, “so if you’d please make sure your girlfriend eats and goes straight to bed, I would greatly appreciate it.”

Mattheo nodded dumbstruck, a satisfied Madam Pomfrey led him out the door. 

Girlfriend. Madam Pomfrey thought you and Mattheo were dating. Mattheo once found dating any one repulsive, but he thought about your sweet smiles and angelic laughter and suddenly the idea of dating was inviting, so long as he was dating you. And that was terrifying thought, Mattheo didn’t think himself boyfriend material, but the idea of seeing you date anyone else, or Merlin forbid one of his friends, made him nauseous. He conceded that maybe these feelings would fade after some time, after all, you didn’t give him any indication that you wanted to be more.

Taking Madam Pomfrey’s words seriously he met up with you, Blaise and Draco. After all four of you were fed he suggested they all get rest, Draco and Blaise didn’t argue, their exhaustion kicking in from their injuries, but you pouted, not wanting to go back to your own dorm alone. Mattheo wasn’t immune to your puppy dog eyes so he offered his own bed so you could be with everyone. Draco and Blaise shared a knowing look, but you beamed up at him and happily trotted along with them to their dorms. 

Enzo and Theo were still sleeping, likely to be out until afternoon so as quietly as they could Blaise and Draco went to their own beds, passing out shortly after pulling their blankets around their bodies. 

You shed your large yellow knit sweater and yawned, smiling sleepily at Mattheo. He smiled and tilted his head to his bed, offering it to the kindly Hufflepuff. After removing her shoes she slipped under the covers, he could tell she was struggling to stay awake. 

“Are you coming to bed too?”

Her question made his neck feel hot, she looked at his innocently, eyes fluttering. If he got in that bed with her, he knew he’d never let go of whatever feelings were developing for her. He slowly shook his head, ready to lie to her and say he wasn’t tired, that he was going to go shower or study or literally anything other than get into his bed with her.

“Please Matty?” You pouted. Merlin, he was a goner. He sighed softly and slipped under the covers with you, trying to keep a respectful distance. This whole situation had his body burning and mind in overdrive. You smiled happily and let out a small giggle, wishing him goodnight and then allowing sleep to take you.

Truthfully, he didn’t think he’d be able to sleep. His mind and body kicked into chaos at the proximity of the beautiful Hufflepuff. But he was actually tired, and your soft snores helped him relax and he was able to fall asleep as well. 

That sleep was short-lived, as he only slept for about two hours. When he woke up you were completely tucked into his body, still snoring, with his arms wrapped around you. Luckily, everyone else was still completely knocked out. Against his urges he detached himself from your cuddling, thanking whatever higher power that no one witnessed the intimate moment, and slipped into the bathroom for a cold shower to cool his fevered skin. 

The next day, he went to Hogsmeade and picked up a single green handkerchief with a snake and his initials embroidered into the fabric. He’d never tell anyone but he always kept it in his pocket, just in case.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Mattheo knew Theo didn’t care for his birthday, after his mother had passed his father became cruel and he never had another birthday. When Enzo had mentioned it in passing at dinner, Theo had told you himself he didn’t celebrate it. 

Mattheo, now attuned to your expressions, saw a glimmer of sadness flickering behind your eyes, followed by a flash of determination. You hadn’t said much after that, but he saw the gears in your head turning. 

A week later on Theo’s birthday Enzo had dashed into the common room, asking all of them to follow him to the Room of Requirement. The whole walk there was tense, Mattheo could tell by Theo’s expression that if it was a big party he was going to be pissed. You were mysteriously missing most of the week, or dashing away quickly so he assumed you had planned something, with Enzo’s help of course.

When they pushed into the room there was no party. Instead there were soft string lights hanging from the ceiling, a fire going in an intricate stone fireplace and a swirling emerald green carpet guiding them further into the room. Just a few steps further and there you were, covered in flour and wearing an apron with splashes of food stains. In front of you was a table with only seven seats set, a cacophony of steaming food on top.

Mattheo and his friends had their mouths agape, trying to take in the extravagance around them. They knew you loved to cook, having been on the receiving end of endless, delicious desserts. But never before had you cooked an actual feast for them. He looked to Theo, who was not looking at the lights or the fireplace or even the food, his deep gaze on you. 

Mattheo saw a nervous smile take hold of your face and watched your hands tug on each other, clearly nervous about Theo’s reaction.

“Um… I made it,” you pushed out, “I remembered you said once you missed your Mom’s cooking so I made a bunch of Italian dishes. Y-your Mom probably made them better but I did my best. I even made Mostaccioli! I remember you said it was your favorite…” Your nervousness getting the better of you. No one said anything, all looking at Theo for his reaction. 

Theo strode up to you, his face not showing anything, and he pulled you into a hug. Theo, who hated unnecessary touching, was hugging you. Mattheo even swore he heard Theo mumble “I love it.”

When your arms came around Theo’s broad back Mattheo got a glimpse of your face. Your eyes were closed, tears leaking out of the corners and a soft, peaceful smile on your face. 

Mattheo didn’t know what to call these types of tears. It felt bigger than the other ones he’d seen. These tears felt sweet and sad at the same time, like you and Theo had a secret understanding. Looking at you and Theo embrace felt like a private, raw moment, but he couldn’t look away. He decided to deem these: bittersweet tears. 

Theo let you go and you chuckled and wiped the sides of your eyes. You beamed at everyone and invited them to sit down and eat. 

And as Mattheo sat down next to you, with a messy apron, covered in flour and a cheery grin on your face, Mattheo couldn’t help but think you more radiant than he’s ever seen you. 

And even though Theo refused to share the Mostaccioli with any of them, it was easily the best meal of Mattheo’s life, love and attention baked into everything you made. His friends more carefree and happy than he’d ever seen them, laughing and joking. 

When you left to get the cake you made that was cooling by the room’s kitchen area Theo leaned over to him and whispered, “If you don’t make a move soon, I’m going to marry that girl.” Mattheo froze like a deer in headlights, but Theo just grinned at him and sipped his champagne. 

Mattheo tried to ignore Theo’s words but they sat heavy in his mind. Ever since he started carrying around a handkerchief for you, he barely even noticed other girls. He can’t even remember the last time he accepted a girl’s invite to her dorm. He only ever thought about you, and instead of fear and uncertainty now he only felt warmth and longing when he imagined you and him together. It surprised him how much he wanted all of it. He wanted to kiss you, to hold you, to have you laugh at his jokes, to smile at him, to worship you in any and every way you’d let him. The realization that he was completely smitten with you pierced through his whole body. Theo was right, you had to be his.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Finding you alone was damn near impossible, Mattheo found out. If it wasn’t his own friends it was literally everyone else in the entire castle. Apparently your light touched everyone at Hogwarts, as every time he tried to get a moment to ask you on a date someone would appear and ruined the moment. 

At first he didn’t mind. When the Weasley twins approached you with a new invention, something they called the Zinger Wing Giggle Ball you had been too excited to test it for them. Even Mattheo would admit a ball that flies around making teasing, sarcastic remarks and giggling was funny. Even more so when it scared the daylights out of Mrs. Norris and chased her all through the halls calling her “a dirty flobberworm with legs and a tail”. You, of course, had felt bad for Filch and his tattle-cat but even so, you couldn’t help but laugh along too.

Then there were the professors, Mattheo didn’t realize how much volunteering you did for everyone. Professor Sprout requesting your assistance with the odd plant in the greenhouse or Hagrid wanting you to come witness whatever mysterious beast he’d found that week and log their abilities. Even Snape, who never seemed to like any of his students, would approach you for helping him stock his precious ingredients closet. How you made time for anyone was beyond Mattheo, but he was determined still.

His friends seemed to be the worst of all, they seemed almost determined to not let him have a moment alone with you. No matter where he was with you at least one of them would appear. When he’d finally gotten tired of it he gathered them all and told them he was trying to ask you on a date, a real ’not Mattheo being a fuckboi’ date, by Pansy’s words, not his. Of course with who his friends were and how fiercely protective they were over you, they grilled him for over an hour about his intentions. When they were finally satisfied galleons passed around into Theo and Enzo’s hands. Those fuckers had placed bets amongst themselves on whether or not Mattheo would ever figure out his feelings and ask you out. If Mattheo wasn’t so annoyed he’d be a little touched that his two best friends had faith in him. 

And now, here he was. There were no classes today, and almost everyone in the castle was at Hogsmeade. He knew you were somewhere, his friends confirming you weren’t coming that day and had chosen to stay behind. He’d looked for you everywhere, he had even bribed a younger year Hufflepuff with chocolate frogs to check if you were in your room. It felt like another day of failure for him. It was two hours before everyone would come back, he knew that it would be impossible to get you alone after that. He dragged his feet up to the astronomy tower, hoping to take a quick smoke to clear his head. 

But he heard a familiar sniffle from the stairs. As quietly as he could he peaked out from the staircase and there he spotted your familiar tuft of hair and bright yellow knit sweater. He approached you, nerves bursting in his body until he felt his stomach drop. You were crying.

“What happened?” Mattheo questioned. His voice made you jump and when you looked at him, he saw your familiar puffy, red cheeks and watery wide eyes. 

“Hi Matty,” you said softly, “Its nothing. Just something stupid.” You sniffled, trying to wipe your tears with the sleeve of your sweater. He pulled out his handkerchief from his pocket and passed it to you. You looked at him gratefully and accepted it, wiping your face with the soft, expensive fabric.

“You’d never cry for something stupid.” He corrected. He could remember every instance he’d seen you cry, nothing had ever been stupid about them. He sat next to you on the floor. You sighed, twisting your fingers nervously.

“Someone called me a Slytherin whore.” 

Mattheo could have gotten whiplash with how fast his head snapped to you. Mattheo tried not to let his fury show. He really tried, knowing that his anger could potentially scare you. 

“Who?”

“…Does it matter?”

“Who?”

“It’s not worth it.”

“Who?”

He didn’t mean to take a tone with you, but he was trying to figure out what asshole he was going to beat the shit out of. Then he’d let his friends have their turn.

“Adrian Pucey.”

That son of a bitch. That idiot couldn’t learn the first time. Screw the quidditch team, they’d find another chaser. When Mattheo was finished with him Pucey wouldn’t be able to go near a broom for at least six months. 

“Is that what people think of me?” 

Mattheo was so focused on his rage he didn’t even see you deflating at his side. As he looked at you he realized you weren’t just hurt by Pucey’s words, you believed them.

“No, no one believes that. No one with a brain anyway.” Mattheo assured you. He would cast his anger aside for now, you needed him more.

“I just-“ you groaned, holding your face in your hands, “I know I can be… clingy and a crybaby and maybe I do spend too much time with you guys, but I feel like you guys are my best friends and I like being around you guys and I feel like you guys like me around or maybe you just tolerate me but I feel like that shouldn’t make me a whore and I-“ Mattheo had let you babble long enough. He held your face in his hands and turned your head so you could look at him head on. 

“Listen to me,” He demanded, “You are not a whore. Nothing you do or say could make you that. Understand?”

You nodded in his hands. 

“We do like you being around because we like you. You aren’t clingy or a crybaby. Do you cry? Yes. Is it a perfectly normal reaction? Yes. You’ve made all of our lives better. Pansy has someone she actually likes to do girl stuff with. Draco knows someone outside of our fucked up group and his Mom cares about him. Theo had one of the best fucking birthdays of his life since his Mom died. All because of you! Don’t let some asshole that I’m going to punch in the teeth make you feel like you’re anything less than a ray of sunshine of every single life you touch.”

Mattheo hadn’t realized your hands were cupping his own. You were smiling at him, eyes watery, he wiped a stray tear off your cheek. Your glassy orbs flashed with vulnerability.

“What about you, Matty? Have I made your life better?”

“Better doesn’t even begin to describe what you’ve done to my life.”

More tears were flowing from your eyes but before Mattheo could wipe them away with his hands you threw yourself into his arms, toppling him over and kissed him. 

Any thoughts in Mattheo’s head flew out the window as soon as your lips touched his. Your delicate fingers holding his face lovingly and your soft lips pressed against his own. He brought his hands up to your waist, lightly caressing the skin there that was exposed by your shirt and sweater riding up. The a flurry of peace flooded Mattheo’s body, it was as if his entire being was releasing a sigh of relief, a single thought echoed throughout his body: finally.

Unfortunately, youpulled away, your cheeks flushed. Mattheo was laying on the floor underneath you so you ended up right in his lap, which, looking from his point of view, was so fucking tempting. 

“I’m going to marry the fuck out of you.”

Mattheo meant it but blurting it out had not been his intention, his brain still reeling from the kiss. Nonetheless, you giggled, airy and light like a tinkling bell.

“How about a date first, Matty?” You teased. 

“It’s a start.” Mattheo sat up, pulling your legs tighter around his waist so he could pull you even closer to him. Your fingers started to entangle in his hair and he looked up at you, pure adoration in your eyes, “Do I get to call you mine now?”

“I’ve been yours Matty.”

He hummed happily, pulling your face down to kiss you again. 

[esposamultifandom]

omg I LOVE your writings, its my first time ever requesting one, hope u can write it (if u dont like it i would completely understand)

i was thinking about some lando thing, where his girlfriend is reading some spicy book and he accidentally reads some lines and the room gets hot lol, and when everything its done he is just the fluffiest boyfriend of the world

hope u are doing good🩵

By the book | LN⁴

💌 REQUESTED by anon ──── I genuinely had so much fun with this one, thank you so much for the request. Hopefully this is a nice first experience 😉🤍

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𐙚 summary ──── When boredom leads him to a new world, intense and full of possibilities, Lando wants to prove to his girlfriend that despite the perfect moments in her erotic books, the real deal is still better than fiction.

𐙚 pairing ──── Lando Norris x she/her reader

𐙚 rating ──── explicit

𐙚 category ──── F/M

𐙚 warnings ──── +18, mature/sexual content, established relationship, fluff & smut, descriptive language, fingering & oral ─ (f)receiving, unprotected sex, swearing, edging, teasing, roleplay elements, Max F. cameo.

𐙚 word count ──── 3.7k

𐙚 date ──── Dec. 19, 2024

𐙚 a/n ──── Guys! I’ve got a couple more one-shots coming your way before the year wraps up, and I just wanted to thank you all so much for your patience and support. It means the world to me 🤍

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﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

THE FAINT GLOW from Lando’s monitors is the only light in the room, casting faint shadows over his side of the bed. It’s pretty late — later than it probably should be for him to start a streaming session — but Max insisted, and Lando figured it was either this or mindlessly scrolling through his infinite feed until falling asleep. His headset lies next to his keyboard, untouched, as he waits for his best friend to finish whatever pre-stream rituals he’s currently busy with.

From the en suite bathroom, the sound of running water echoes like ambient noise, muffled by the walls yet delicate, while his girlfriend showers. He glances at the door, thinking about how she had kissed him on the forehead just a few minutes ago, hair piled on top of her head in that messy bun he secretly loves. She had told him to have fun streaming, flashing him a sweet smile that made him wish she weren’t about to leave him alone to his boredom.

Lando sighs, spinning slightly in his chair, his gaze randomly falling to the nightstand on her side of the bed. A stack of books rests there unbothered, as it always does, each spine a different color. She goes through them so quickly that he can never keep up with what she’s reading now versus what she finished last week, that's why, normally, he doesn’t pay them much attention. But tonight, in the thick silence, with Max still not ready and the hum of the bathroom as his only company, he reaches for the book at the top of the stack.

The cover is intricate and inviting — soft, watercolor-like strokes of flowers in muted tones frame a bold, serif title. There’s no hint of what it’s about, and when he flips it over, the description on the back isn’t much help, either.

“Vague as hell,” he mutters under his breath after reading it.

He flips the book open, thumbing through the pages, noticing that she's halfway through it, with a scattering of sticky tabs peeking out from various places. A glance at the pages confirms his girlfriend’s habit of underlining sentences and jotting tiny notes in the margins. He smirks to himself, picturing her curled up on the couch, pen in hand, diligently marking her favorite parts, as she always does.

He stops at one of the tabs — a pink one — curiosity getting the best of him. The text beneath is neatly underlined, with a couple of notes scribbled faintly in the margin. His eyes skim over the words, and then he freezes, blinking at what he’s just read.

His hands roamed my bare skin with a deliberate slowness, mapping every curve, every dip. I gasped when his fingers dipped lower, teasing just enough to make me squirm beneath him. “Patience, my love,” he murmured against my neck, his voice rough with desire. “I'll give you what you need.”

Lando’s mouth goes dry, while his eyebrows shoot higher on his forehead. His fingers tighten slightly on the book as his eyes dart to the highlighted lines. She’s underlined “I'll give you what you need” and scrawled something next to it — he squints to make it out.

‘OMG. The tension here is insane,’ it reads, followed by ‘On. My. Knees’.

His pulse quickens, and he feels a flicker of heat low in his stomach.

Suddenly, Lando realizes how intimate it is to rummage through her annotations, as they are pure, unfiltered emotions, evoked by scenes that obviously awakened something in her when she read them, and now he feels way too guilty to continue.

But not enough to stop.

He flips ahead, stopping at another pink tab, as if he's on autopilot, guided by sheer curiosity alone.

My legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer, until there was no space left between us. His mouth was everywhere — on my lips, my collarbone, the sensitive skin of my nipples. I trembled as he kissed his way lower, his tongue leaving a trail of fire in its wake. I moaned his name, breathless, as he looked up at me with a smirk that promised more.

Lando swallows hard. He shifts in his chair, hyperaware of the heat creeping up his neck. He tells himself to stop, to close the book and put it back, but he can’t seem to help himself.

“You liked that, don’t you?” he asked in a whispered tone. I whimpered in response, my nails digging into his shoulders as my body arched into his touch. “You did, my good girl,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down my spine. “Keep being good, and you'll get to cu—”

He sucks in a sharp breath, snapping the book closed. His mind betrays him, conjuring images of her beneath him, her breath hitching the way it does when he teases her, her hands clutching at him as she whispers his name in pleasure.

His jaw clenches, and he drags a hand through his hair, all too aware of the way the air has changed inside the room. Luckily, the vibration of his phone on the desk jolts him back to reality. He startles, nearly dropping the book in his lap.

Scrambling to grab his phone, he sees a text from Max:

“Shit,” Lando mutters under his breath.

He rushes to put the book back where he found it, his movements momentarily clumsy. He’s acutely aware of the way his body feels now — tense, restless, hot — as he makes himself more comfortable in his chair, tugging his headset over his ears.

The monitor flickers to life as Max joins the call, his voice loud and cheery in Lando’s ear. “Finally, mate! Thought you fell asleep or something.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Lando replies, his voice a little strained. “Let’s just get started.”

By the time she's done with showering and coming out of the bathroom dressed in one of his oversized t-shirts and towel-drying her hair, Lando is fully immersed in his racing game. She pauses in the doorway, watching him for a moment with a small smile on her face, and he catches her eye briefly, following her as she crosses the room, the t-shirt swallowing her frame entirely. He gives her a quick nod before returning his focus to the screens, while she climbs onto the bed and grabs the book from her nightstand, settling in against the pillows to read.

At that, Lando finds himself smirking.

It’s hard not to, knowing what’s tucked between those pages now. His fingers twitch on the steering wheel, but he keeps driving, throwing himself into the rave to avoid getting distracted.

“Mate, you’re lagging behind,” Max calls out through the headset, breaking Lando’s focus.

“Yeah, mate. Don't worry, I’m here,” he replies, steering his car to catch up.

Time passes in a blur of laughter, strategy, and the occasional curse as he and Max trade wins and losses. At some point, she gets up from the bed, her book left open and facedown on the comforter. Lando watches out of the corner of his eye as she pads over to him, stopping just out of frame.

“Want some tea?” she asks quietly, her voice careful not to interrupt his live stream.

Lando glances up at her briefly, his lips curling into a small smile. His hand leaves the steering wheel, trailing to the back of her thigh, his fingers traveling up slowly, squeezing the soft curve of her ass.

“Yeah,” he whispers, the word leaving him on a smirk.

Her breath catches in her throat at his touch, and she shoots him a pointed look, though the pink dusting her cheeks betrays her.

She swats his hand away lightly, protesting quietly, “Behave,” before disappearing into the kitchen.

TWO HOURS LATER, the game session finally winds down. Lando thanks the chat, throws a parting joke at Max, and shuts down his stream with a satisfied sigh. He swivels in his chair to find his girlfriend still awake, her book now resting on her stomach while she scrolls idly on her phone.

She glances at him and smiles kindly, watching as he heads to the bathroom, but when he gets back a few minutes later, he’s wearing nothing but a fresh pair of boxers and a wide smile. His skin glows faintly from the shower, and water droplets cling to the sharp angles of his collarbone.

Lando approaches the bed slowly, his gaze fixed on her. She looks up from her phone as he slides in beside her, his presence warm and familiar. Without a word, he takes the book from her stomach, his fingers brushing hers lightly as he closes it and sets it back on the nightstand. Then, he leans down, brushing his lips over hers in a kiss that’s soft but full of intent — definitely not the kind that he uses to send her to sleep. Quite the opposite. It makes her hum against his lips, her hand coming up to rest lightly on his chest as she kisses him back.

“You’re still wet,” she notices, pushing Lando lightly to look at him.

When he pulls away, his voice drops, small but teasing. “We can both be,” says Lando.

She scoffs, rolling her eyes, “Yeah, not tonight, buddy. You took too long, and I’m sleepy from all the reading.”

“Come on, just wrap your legs around my waist, and pull me closer, until there is no space left between us,” he murmurs the words deliberately.

For a second, her heart skips a beat, her eyes widening slightly as she registers his sentence. Blood rushes to her cheeks and beyond, her pulse quickening.

“What?” she asks, giving him a puzzled look.

Lando’s smirk deepens. He leans closer, letting his breath fan over her ear as he continues, his tone overly suggestive. “What? You don’t want my mouth everywhere? On your lips, your collarbone, the sensitive skin of your nipples?”

Her breath hitches, and her lips part in surprise. Her mind starts spinning as the words he’s quoting — the ones she underlined so carefully in her book — fall from his mouth.

“Lando,” she says cautiously, her voice shaky.

“Hm?” he asks innocently, his fingers ghosting over her hip beneath the t-shirt. “I hope it's okay, I’m just trying to remember what you liked so much. What else was there? Something about… good girls?”

She swats at his chest, but there’s no real force behind it. “You’ve been reading my stuff!”

His laughter is quiet, but there’s heat in his gaze as he leans down to kiss her again, this time deeper, as if he has a purpose.

When Lando pulls back just enough to catch her gaze, his eyes are glinting with mischief. His hand trails up her side, his thumb slowly brushing the soft curve of her waist through the thin fabric of his t-shirt.

“And? What’s that about, baby?” he asks. “Don't you want to be my good girl?”

She lets out a soft laugh, a mix of flustered and amused, and presses a hand to his chest. “For the record, you’re not allowed to touch my books anymore,” she says, trying to sound stern but failing miserably when her cheeks flush under his intense gaze.

“Oh, I don’t know,” he drawls, leaning closer, his lips brushing her skin. “I think I learned a lot. Like how you’re into being told what to do, and being touched like this,” he continues, tracing the pads of his fingers up and down her body.

“Lando,” she protests, but her voice wavers, her breath hitching when his teeth graze the sensitive spot just beneath her earlobe.

“You marked all the good bits for me,” he says, his mouth trailing along her neck, placing soft, lingering kisses there. “Made it so easy, really.”

She shakes her head, trying to maintain her composure, but the warmth of his lips and the purposeful way his hands roam her body make it impossible. “You’re being ridiculous,” she whispers.

“And you’re so cute when you’re blushing,” he counters, his lips hovering just above hers. His tone shifts, teasing, giving way to something more profound. “Just know that if you ever want to recreate something from your books... all you need to do is ask, yes?”

Her breath catches as Lando’s fingers find the hem of her t-shirt and tug it upward. She lifts her arms without hesitation, letting him pull it over her head and toss it aside.

“And if you can't tell me, just underline the scenes,” he continues, smirking down at her. “I'll figure it out.”

“Lando…” her voice is much softer now, her eyes searching his, but he silences her with another kiss. Slow and lazy, his tongue dancing with hers on a rhythm only they know.

His hands move over her bare skin, stopping on her waist, then continuing until one of them curls around her neck, “My good girl,” whispers Lando against her lips, echoing the words from her book. “What should I do with you?”

She laughs softly, but it turns into a gasp as his lips leave hers, trailing down over her collarbone, while he squeezes lightly at her neck. He pauses to nip at the delicate dip at the base of her throat, his tongue flicking out to taste her skin. She smells like her vanilla body lotion, a faint scent that drives him wild.

“You don’t—” she tries to say something, but his mouth moves lower, and her words dissolve into a soft moan as he presses kisses across the swell of her breast, moving his hand on top of it to squeeze the flesh there.

“Relax, baby,” he says, looking up at her briefly, his expression a mix between adoration and pure need. “Just let me play by the book, yeah?”

Her cheeks burn at the intensity in his gaze, but she doesn’t look away. Her hands find his shoulders, holding onto him as his kisses travel lower, across her stomach, his tongue darting out to trace wet patterns against her skin.

When he reaches the waistband of her shorts, he glances up again, his fingers toying with the elastic. “Can I?” he asks softly, his voice full of want.

She nods, her breath shaky, and lifts her hips to help him slide them down her legs.

Lando kisses along her inner thighs, taking his time, savoring the way her body reacts to every little, torturous touch. She’s already trembling under him, anticipation coiling in her stomach as he hooks his arms around her thighs, spreading her legs wider.

“So ready for me, hm?” asks Lando, reaching for a pillow, and sliding it beneath the small of her back, adjusting her gently until she’s perfectly positioned for him. “Every time I open your pretty legs, fucking hell.”

She nods, chewing on her lower lip as she feels his hot breath falling over her skin. The first swipe of his tongue along her slit has her gasping, her head falling back on the mattress, unable to keep her eyes on him. Lando groans, the sound reverberating through her, his movements teasing, as always.

Her hands find his hair, threading through the damp strands as she arches toward him, desperately wanting to feel the heat of his tongue on her.

He looks up, his lips glistening while smirking. “Better than your book so far?”

“Mhm,” she breathes, her voice catching as he dips lower, his tongue working in a rhythm that has her eyes rolling.

He breathes heavily as he runs his tongue over her clit, teasing her hole with the tip. It's too much for her, yet still not enough to make her body shudder, but only ache for more instead. Luckily, Lando doesn’t stop, his hands gripping her hips to hold her in place as he gives himself entirely to her, the soft sounds she makes driving him on.

Patiently, he brings his fingers between her folds, opening her even more, little by little. When he pushes in the second finger, she moans his name again, which encourages him to curl them inside her, feeling her pussy tighten around him, the sound alone making him so painfully hard.

Lando’s mouth doesn’t leave her for a long while, drawing every gasp, every shudder from her as if it’s his life’s purpose. His tongue flicks, teases, and presses, his movements confident and practiced but still reverent, like he’s savoring her in a way words could never describe.

She’s close, and Lando knows it from the way her thighs tighten around his shoulders, and the way her fingers tug at his hair, grounding herself as the pleasure builds higher and higher. It makes him hum against her wetness, the muffled sound forcing a loud gasp out of her. But right when she approaches the edge, his mouth pulls away, leaving her breathless and shaking.

“Why did you—Lando!” she starts to protest, but her words are cut off when he moves up her body, kissing a heated trail along her stomach, her breasts, and up her neck.

“Patience, baby,” he whispers, the word heavy with intent. “Isn’t that what your book said?”

She squeezes her eyes shut, her breath hitching as she remembers the very scene he’s playing out now. “I couldn’t care less about my book right now, Lando.”

He smirks, his hand sliding between her legs to tease her hole again, his fingers brushing over her sensitive heat with a featherlight touch. “Tell me what you want, then. I want to hear you say it.”

Her heart pounds, her mind is spinning, and the tears are so close from slipping out of her eyes. He's still quoting her stupid book, when he should be fucking her into oblivion instead. Even though now those words feel entirely different coming from his mouth, spoken in that low, rough voice that sends shivers down her spine, only makes her cry in protest when his fingers keep playing with her clit. The pressure he applies is measured enough to just keep her on the edge, but never pushing her over it.

“I want you,” she breathes, her voice barely above a whisper. “Need you, please.”

“And if I ask you, pretty please, to say it again, will you?” his soft voice forces another moan to slip from her lips, his fingers dipping into her pussy, slow and teasing, feeling her walls constricting around them.

She nods, swallowing hard, “You,” she repeats, louder this time, her hips rolling against his hand. “I want you.”

Lando hums in approval, his lips curling into a satisfied smile as he leans down to kiss her, his fingers moving with more intent now. “So good for me, aren't you?” he asks against her lips, and the words make her whimper, heat pooling in her belly.

It doesn’t take long for him to position himself between her thighs, his body fitting against hers like they were made for each other. Unfortunately, he takes his time, teasing her with his length, dragging himself over her wetness, his eyes never leaving hers.

“So good and needy, is that why you read those books?” he asks, mostly curious than anything. “You need something to keep you stimulated all the time? Because if that's the case, we can—”

“Please, Lando,” she begs, her hands gripping his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin, while breathing heavily.

He chuckles, satisfied, “I've got you, baby, you know I do.”

His restraint snaps at her plea, and he pushes into her hard yet measured, his gaze locked on hers as he fills her inch by inch. Her head falls back, a broken moan spilling from her lips as he bottoms out, his hips flush against hers.

“Fuck, you wrap around me so good,” he mutters, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. He waits for her to adjust, his hands running soothingly over her thighs, her waist, and her breasts.

“Move,” she whimpers, her voice breathless as she drags her nails over his back.

He obeys, his hips rolling in a steady rhythm that has her arching beneath him, her body responding to his every thrust. He leans down, his lips capturing hers in a kiss that’s as much about love as it is about hunger — a desperate desire to show her that he can be whatever she needs him to be.

“You’re fucking perfect,” he breathes against her mouth. “Every inch of you.”

Her body rises to meet his with every thrust, their movements fluid and desperate as the tension coils tighter and tighter. His name falls from her lips like a prayer, and he drinks it in, his mouth finding the sensitive spot on her neck once again.

“Lan…” she cries out, her legs wrapping around his waist to pull him even deeper inside her.

“Yes, baby. Wanna hear you,” he continues, his hand slipping between them to find the bundle of nerves that has her crying out again, her body trembling beneath him as his thumb circles around her clit. “Let go for me, come on.”

She shatters beneath him, her release washing over her in waves as she clings to him, her nails raking down his back. He follows moments later, her name a rough groan on his lips as he spills into her, his body shaking with the force of it.

This will always be better than anything, she realizes — better than any fantasy, any scenario, and any book. Just them, sharing each other in every possible way, then taking their time to come down. Together.

Their bodies are still tangled when Lando asks, “So? Was it better?” his voice is rough, but playful as he brushes a strand of hair from her face.

She laughs, her cheeks flushed, and pulls him down for one more kiss; of course he knew what she was thinking about.

“I think it might’ve been,” she teases.

“Oh? Might’ve?” Lando scoffs, his grin widening. “Guess we’ll just have to try again and make sure, then.”

Thank you for reading!

None of my works are available for reposting on other platforms. Reblogs, likes, and comments are deeply appreciated ♥︎

© trashy track tales, 2024

[esposamultifandom]

the grid: dealing with your childhood stuffed animal!

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featuring: Oscar Piastri, Lando Norris, Lewis Hamilton, George Russell, Alex Albon, Franco Colapinto, Logan Sargeant, Daniel Riccardo, Liam Lawson, Charles LeClerc, Carlos Sainz, Arthur LeClerc, Ollie Bearman, Max Verstappen, Paul Aron, Jack Doohan.

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Oscar Piastri: cutie pie 

Bro is a gentleman through and through

He will tuck it in 

He always grabs it if it falls of the bed

When he washes it he calls it a ‘spa day’

Cutie patootie

During sex he does usually push it off the bed, but he puts them back after. (he understands it doesn't want to see that).

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Lando Norris: drama queen 

Could he complain more? 

He’s not even that jealous of it, he just doesn’t like when you’re cuddling with it instead of him.

When you do that, he will cling to you like his life depends on it, sighing and groaning every time you laugh at him. 

“Wow, I wish I had someone who could hold me right now, too bad you’re busy cheating on me..”

Drama queen. 

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George Russell: tentative 

He’s friendly with it, but he’s not its biggest fan. 

When he came into your room for the first time, he was quite startled by it.

But he’s grown to appreciate it. 

He knows all its name for sure, and when he’s putting it back, he puts them with its ‘friends’ 

(Bro has made up story lines in his head about it and your other teddies). 

Definitely got the stuffed-teddy version of himself that Mercedes has and gave it to you. 

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Lewis Hamilton: chill guy

He’s chill with it. 

He doesn’t make it a big deal, but sometimes if Roscoe isn’t in the room, he’ll talk to it about you while you're taking ages to get ready. 

Like pretending it can hear him and complaining like a sassy man.

You almost always throw a pillow at both of them.

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Kimi Antonelli: confused but supportive

Supportive, but he doesn’t really get it. 

He likes it, but when it ends up on the floor, he’s not immediately picking it up to take care of it. 

He does take lots of photos of it when you’re away.

It becomes his buddy when you have to travel, he brings it everywhere.

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Alex Albon: very much into it

Bro understands 

He also has one. 

They’re also in love.

When you both have to go away, you send each other pictures of your stuffed animals ‘missing’ each other. 

That’s what happens when you date someone for a long time. 

Cringe shit. 

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Logan Sargeant: complainer! 

Supportive, but will shove it off the bed every night. 

When you go looking for it, he’ll whine about  “You have me right here!”

Which never ends well. 

He ends up on the other side of the bed with a pillow between the two of you. 

But he always sneaks back over. 

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Franco Colapinto: gossip over anything

Again, supportive but confused. 

At the beginning he was like ‘that’s for kids’, but when he sees how much joy and comfort it brings you, he changes his tune. 

He loves that thing.

Like Lewis, NO.1 gossip partner when you’re taking ages to get ready. 

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Daniel Riccardo: IT’S A PART OF THE FAMILY 

Treats it like your child. 

Brings it everywhere with you

Even jokingly ra children buggy for it.

Made an Énchante design with it on it. 

Loves it. 

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Liam Lawson: menace to society 

His no.1 enemy. 

Hates it.

Hates that it gets more attention than him. 

Cannot stand it. 

Literally fights it. 

Throws it away from you at any chance he gets. 

He is a menace. 

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Charles LeClerc: hot and cold 

He’s on the fence with it.

Sometimes they’re on good terms, sometimes he chucks it across the room.

Will cuddle you and push the teddy away sometimes but will also go and find it for you if you need it. 

Duality of man!

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Carlos Sainz: liar

Literally makes fun of you for it, despite loving it himself.

He will bring it on bike rides and all that shit, only to take pictures of it for you.

But the second you start looking for it.

“Aren’t you a bit old for that?”

And every time you remind him that he takes it on bike rides, to which he responds “only for you!” which always ends up in a play fight of some sorts where you both are trying to get the stuffy. 

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Arthur LeClerc: beginning of his villain arc

He hates the damn thing.

He will hide it.

He will take it.

He doesn’t care. 

He hates it. 

Every fibre of his being hates it, only because you treat it like him. 

You tuck it in, cuddle it, always have it close. 

He is so jealous. 

When you kiss it? 

He actually screams. 

He demands like 5x more kisses than whatever it got. 

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Ollie Bearman: ummmm

Supportive, but also kind of tough-guy about it. 

“You don’t need that, you have me”

Rolls his eyes when you ask him to go find it because you know he hid it and you’re already comfy in bed. 

Goes and grabs it anyways

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Max Verstappen: passive aggression!

He’s fine with it.

Chill but not the biggest fan. 

Doesn't hide it or anything, just make passive aggressive comments when you cuddle it instead of him

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Paul Aron: he is a father 

Cutie patootie 

He again, treats it like your child. 

Takes it away with him sometimes.

Takes photos of it, and with it all the time. 

The teddy had gone on many a boys night, all of them taking photos with it. 

You have the entire F2 grid holding it for photos with Paul. 

Even fans know about it and love it. 

Brought it to the FIA gala and took photos on the red carpet with it since you couldn’t be there. 

It has become a legend in the F1 community so even the team principals and drivers asked to be in photos with it. 

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Jack Doohan: thief! 

Would rather die than admit that he love sit

Hides it, complains about it 

But secretly would kill for it. 

You find him cuddling with it sometimes.

He takes it on trips as a ‘reminder of you’, but you know it’s actually because he likes it a lot.

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[esposamultifandom]

PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE | mattheo riddle

summary; mattheo is your slightly toxic, slightly unhinged, but absolutely adoring and completely obsessed boyfriend.

word count; 7077

notes; literally the moment I started watching the PPP music video I was like ‘oh it’s so matty coded’ and this came to mind immediately. I didn’t intend for it to get so long, it was supposed to be a short drabble. whoops.

Seguir leyendo

[esposamultifandom]

PRAIRIE WOLF | masterlist

John tucks his hand over your nape, pulling you into the warm bracket of his neck where his pulse beats steady under your forehead. Firm. Strong. All heat.

"I'll protect you," he rasps, chest rumbling under the swell of your belly. The growl—brassbound, ferric: a promise and a threat—glues to his words. Sinking deep. "Both of you, Coyote. Always."

And despite everything that tries to convince you otherwise, you believe him.

[OR: in an attempt to run from your abusive ex, you find yourself crashing into the arms of John Price, a man determined to keep you, and your unborn baby, safe. at all costs. but you're not the only one with secrets or scars.]

18+. past abuse (emotional, physical, mental). sexual trauma. unplanned pregnancy. childhood abuse. healing. eventual smut. protective John Price. gruff lumberjack Price and the stray he picks up. eventual Dom!Price (more in essence than act). divorced!John Price. implied child death (not reader's baby). age gap. grief. cultural differences. set in the early 90s. nonlinear narrative. Reader has an unconventional nickname (plot-important). Reader has a backstory. tags will be added as the series progresses.

AO3. MOODBOARD.

prologue part one | hinterland part two | moose meat part three | mîscacâkanis part four | salt cure part five | teeth and claws part six | pack epilogue

[esposamultifandom]

Daemon Targaryen - Haunted

Summary - In the haunting halls of Dragonstone, she grapples with her intense, chaotic relationship with Daemon, a man of allure and destruction. Their fiery connection forces her to confront the dangerous allure of love and whether to embrace the storm or let it consume her.

Pairing - Daemon Targaryen x reader

Warnings - None

Word count - 3098

Masterlist for Daemon • House of the Dragon General Masterlist.

I know if I'm haunting you, you must be haunting me.

The halls of Dragonstone never seemed so empty until Daemon left.

There's a weight to them now, as if the stone remembers his presence. It presses down on me, crushing. Every corner of this cursed castle feels like his breath is still warm in the air, like his voice lingers, threading through the walls, searching for me.

He told me not to wait. He said it like he always says things: sharp, with a smile that never reaches his eyes.

"Don't wait for me."

I am waiting anyway. What choice do I have?

My footsteps echo down the corridors, but they sound too loud, too harsh—like an interruption. It feels like I'm walking through a dream, or a nightmare, as if I'll turn a corner and he'll be there. 

But I know better. Daemon does nothing without intention. He left with purpose, and yet—

I am waiting.

For him. For his return. For his chaos, for his words that bite as sweetly as they sting. For the way, his eyes darken when they find mine like I am the only thing in the world that holds him together. 

I've always been the one who lingers in his shadows, drawn to him like a moth to flame, and he—he lets me burn.

"What do you want?" he had asked once, his voice curling around the words like a threat. "Say it."

I didn't say it then. I couldn't. I couldn't let him know the depth of this madness. But I think he knows. He always knows.

And that is why he left.

I pause in the doorway of his chambers, the air in here thick with memory. The scent of him lingers—fire, leather, and something darker, something dangerous. 

My fingers graze the bedpost. It's cold. The sheets are untouched as if mocking me with the space he used to occupy, with the hollow where his body should be.

"You'll forget me," he said, laughing as he leaned close, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. "In time."

He knew that wasn't true. I've known it since the first time he looked at me—when those sharp, violet eyes cut through me like a blade. 

From that moment on, Daemon Targaryen has haunted every breath I take.

I close my eyes, letting the memory of his touch ghost over my skin. His hands—rough and calloused from swordplay—had once lingered on my throat, not enough to hurt, just enough to remind me. Of who I am. Of who he is.

"You think you can control me?" I'd whispered, the words trembling from my lips.

His smile had been cruel, intoxicating. "I already do."

And he was right. He was always right.

I open my eyes, but nothing changes. The room is just as cold, just as empty. He left me here to drown in this silence, knowing it would consume me, knowing I would never stop thinking of him. 

That I would chase the ghost of him until it drove me mad.

His voice is still there, in my head. "You'll come back to me. I know you will."

I want to scream, to tear down these walls until they crumble beneath my hands until I can escape the weight of him. But I don't. I can't. 

Because there's a part of me that doesn't want to escape. That craves the madness, the chaos, the him of it all.

He consumes me, even in his absence.

I remember the first time he spoke my name, the way it slipped from his lips like a secret, and how it felt to be pulled into his orbit, the world around us fading as I became lost in his gaze.

"Daemon," I whisper, tasting the name like poison and honey on my tongue. "Why did you leave me?"

I half expect an answer. But all I get is the crackle of the fire in the hearth, casting shadows that dance eerily along the walls. They look like dragons, like him—fierce, wild, untamable. 

My heart pounds in my chest, and for a moment, I imagine I can hear his heartbeat beneath mine, feel his presence behind me, his breath hot on my neck.

But it's just the wind, whistling through the cracks.

"I didn't leave you."

The words aren't real. They're just a memory. But I turn anyway, expecting—no, hoping—that he'll be standing there, leaning against the doorframe with that cocky smirk that makes my stomach twist, makes my breath catch. 

He's not. Of course, he's not.

But he will be. I know it. I can feel it in my bones, in the way the air seems to hum with his presence, even though he's gone. He always comes back. And when he does—

"You'll never leave me," I had said once, my fingers clutching his wrist like a lifeline.

He had laughed, but there was no humour in it. "You'll have to kill me first."

Maybe I would. Maybe I'd drive a blade through his heart if it meant keeping him here, with me, always. 

Or maybe I'd just let him kill me instead.

Because if there's one thing I've learned in all the time I've spent chasing him, loving him, fearing him—it's this: Daemon Targaryen is as much a part of me as the blood in my veins, and there's no escaping him.

Not now.

Not ever.

The fire has burned down to embers by the time I finally let myself sit on the edge of his bed, the cold seeping through my skin, the emptiness unbearable. 

My fingers trace patterns on the stone, aimless, lost. I know I should leave, yet I stay here, surrounded by the remnants of him. The memory of him.

A chill prickles the back of my neck, something like a whisper, like his voice, but—real. Too real. I freeze, and then—

"Is this what you've been doing?" The voice cuts through the silence like a knife, sharp, mocking, pulling at the edges of me.

My breath hitches, and my heart stumbles in my chest.

I turn slowly, and there he is. Daemon. Leaning casually in the doorway, one shoulder against the frame, a shadow draped over him like a cloak. 

His eyes gleam in the dim light, narrowed with a cruel amusement, lips twisted into that infuriating smirk that always unravels me.

He's back.

"Daemon," I say, my voice barely above a whisper. But there's no need for volume. He hears me. He always does.

He steps forward, the movement languid, predatory. Every inch of him commands attention, his presence dominating the room in a way that makes my pulse race. And he knows it.

"I told you not to wait," he says, his tone a mockery of concern, of care. The words roll off his tongue, casual, like a game he knows he's already won.

But there's something darker beneath the surface of his gaze, something possessive, something that says he wanted me to wait—needed it, even.

"And yet, here you are," I murmur, my voice steadier now, though my heart betrays me, hammering in my chest.

He smiles, slow and dangerous like the very act of it is a warning. "You think I wouldn't come back?"

I don't answer, because the truth is—no. I never doubted it. Not really.

His eyes flicker, tracing the outline of my body as if I am nothing more than a prize to him, something to be claimed. 

His steps are slow, deliberate, and my breath catches as he finally reaches me, towering above where I sit. His hand lifts, fingers tilting my chin upward until I meet his gaze, his touch searing, possessive.

"Did you miss me?" he asks, and the question is a trap. I can feel it, the weight of it, pressing down on me.

I swallow hard, my throat tight. "Yes." The word is soft, vulnerable, and it feels like surrender, like I've laid myself bare before him.

Daemon's lips twitch, something almost like satisfaction in his eyes as his thumb brushes over my lower lip, lingering there. 

His touch is both tender and cruel, like a promise and a threat all at once.

"You always miss me." His voice is low, rough, and it sends a shiver down my spine. "No matter how far I go, no matter how long I'm gone, you'll always be here. Waiting. Haunted."

The word stings, the truth of it cutting deeper than I want to admit. But he's right. He's always right.

I close my eyes for a moment, feeling the weight of his presence, the suffocating reality of it. 

Even now, when he's here, when he's touching me, I can't escape the feeling that I'm still chasing him. Still running after something I'll never quite catch.

"Why?" I whisper, not sure what I'm asking. Why did he come back? Why does he torment me like this? Why do I let him?

Daemon's fingers tighten on my chin, forcing my eyes open again, locking me in place. His smile fades, replaced by something darker, something raw. "Because you belong to me."

The castle breathes around us, its ancient stones echoing with secrets, but in this moment, it feels like the world has shrunk to just the two of us. 

Daemon's presence is overwhelming, a storm that wraps around me, making it hard to think, to breathe. I can't help but lean into him, feeling the heat radiating off his skin.

His fingers graze my cheek, a fleeting caress that ignites a fire beneath my skin. I close my eyes again, allowing the sensation to wash over me, drowning in the memory of his touch. 

This is how it always is with him—intoxicating, exhilarating, terrifying.

"You're beautiful when you're lost in thought," he murmurs, his voice low, like velvet wrapped around steel. "But you should be careful. I might just keep you trapped here forever."

His words twist something deep inside me, a delicious mix of fear and longing. I open my eyes, meeting his gaze, and the intensity there sends a thrill racing through me. 

"What makes you think I'd want to leave?" I challenge my voice a mix of defiance and yearning.

A flash of surprise crosses his face, quickly replaced by that familiar smirk. 

"I underestimated you, didn't I?" he says, leaning closer, his breath hot against my lips. The distance between us shrinks, and I feel the world tilt as he tilts his head, studying me as if I were an intriguing puzzle he couldn't resist.

"I want to be here," I say, the words tumbling out before I can stop them. "With you. Always."

His eyes darken, something primal stirring in their depths. "You don't know what you're asking for."

"Try me." 

The challenge dances on my tongue, and I can't help but feel empowered by the look in his eyes, the way they glitter like obsidian under the faint light of the hearth. 

The shadows play tricks, deepening the lines of his jaw, the sharp angles of his face, and I can't resist reaching out, tracing a finger along his collarbone, feeling the muscles beneath his shirt twitch at my touch.

His breath catches, and the surprise in his eyes ignites a flicker of satisfaction within me. 

I know I shouldn't provoke him, shouldn't tease the beast, but there's something intoxicating about this moment, about the way he seems to come alive beneath my touch.

"You think you know me," he says, his voice a low rumble, almost a warning.

I lean closer, heart racing, and whisper, "I want to know you. All of you."

His gaze darkens, and for a moment, I can see the monster lurking beneath the surface. The Daemon who is fierce, relentless, and so utterly captivating. 

The man who could destroy kingdoms but chooses to haunt my dreams instead.

He captures my wrist, his grip firm but gentle, sending a jolt of electricity through my body. 

"You think I'll let you walk away after this?" His eyes blaze with intensity, and I realize that he's not just referring to this moment, but to everything we are.

"And if I say I don't want to?" I whisper, leaning into his hold, feeling the pulse of something wild and dangerous between us.

His lips curl into a smile, wicked and knowing. "Then I suppose you're mine to keep."

A thrill of excitement courses through me. The weight of his words settles in my chest like a stone, heavy and undeniable. 

"What if I don't want to be kept?" I say, forcing myself to sound brave, though my heart races at the thought of what it means to truly belong to him.

"Ah," he breathes, stepping back just slightly, his expression contemplative, almost amused. "You think you have a choice?"

In that moment, I realize—maybe I don't. The thought is exhilarating, terrifying. 

I'm teetering on the edge of a precipice, and all I can do is stare into the depths of his eyes, seeing the abyss reflected there.

"I want you, Daemon," I confess, my voice breaking as the truth spills forth, raw and unfiltered. "I want everything that comes with you."

He studies me, and I can see the conflict warring behind his gaze—dark desire mingling with something deeper. "You don't understand the darkness you're inviting in."

I nod, swallowing hard, but I can't back down now. "I've always known. But maybe that's what I want."

He steps forward again, closing the space between us, and I can feel the heat radiating off him, pulling me closer, binding me to him. 

His fingers slide along my jawline, tilting my head back until our eyes lock, and for a moment, the world fades into a soft blur.

"Then you'll have to be prepared," he murmurs, his voice a dangerous caress. "For everything I have to give. Everything I am."

His lips brush against mine again, teasingly, igniting a fire within me that feels like it could consume us both. But I don't care. 

I want the burn. I want to be consumed.

As his kiss deepens, I lose myself in the moment, drowning in the sensation of him—his taste, his warmth, his essence. 

My fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, feeling the roughness of his stubble against my skin, the way he responds to my touch with a low growl that vibrates through me.

Time slips away, and all that exists is the two of us—lost in each other, wrapped in this chaotic whirlwind of emotion. He pulls me flush against him, and I can feel the strength in his body, the power that comes with being Daemon Targaryen.

But there's something else there too—something raw and vulnerable that he rarely shows. 

I can sense it, the shadow lurking just beneath the surface, the reminder that he is both predator and prey in this twisted dance we share.

"Tell me," he breathes against my lips, his voice a low rumble that sends shivers down my spine. "What do you want from me?"

I hesitate, the weight of the question pressing on me. I want to say everything, to lay my soul bare before him. But the words elude me. Instead, I whisper, "I want you to stay."

He pulls back slightly, his expression unreadable. "And if I can't?"

Panic bubbles up within me, the thought of him leaving again, and I grab his shirt, pulling him closer. "Then I'll find a way to bring you back. I'll chase you, Daemon."

His eyes flash, a mixture of surprise and something darker, something that sends a thrill racing through me. "And what if I don't want to be found?"

"You're a Targaryen," I say, my voice steadying as I meet his gaze. "You're meant to be hunted. To be chased."

The corner of his mouth lifts in that infuriating smile, one that sends my heart racing. "Perhaps you're right. But you should know—hunting a Targaryen comes with its own dangers."

"I'm not afraid," I say, and it's true. I'm not afraid of him, of the darkness, of the chaos that surrounds him. I want it. I crave it.

Daemon studies me, the intensity of his gaze unyielding. "You should be."

Before I can respond, he captures my lips again, this kiss deeper, more consuming. I lose myself in him, the world around us fading, the weight of our desires crashing together like waves against the shore.

When we finally pull apart, both of us breathless, I feel alive in a way I never have before, and the fear that had gripped me earlier seems to evaporate in the wake of his presence.

"What are we doing?" I ask, the question slipping from my lips before I can stop myself.

He smirks, the glimmer of mischief returning to his eyes. "Something reckless."

I laugh, a sound filled with both joy and desperation. "That's an understatement."

Daemon leans closer, his breath brushing against my ear, sending shivers down my spine. "But it feels so good, doesn't it? To be lost in this madness."

"Yes," I admit, my heart racing as his words weave through me, wrapping around my soul.

The fire crackles in the hearth, casting flickering shadows against the walls, and I feel the air hum with unspoken promises, a charge that pulls us closer, tethering us together. 

This is our fate, our shared darkness, and I can't help but surrender to it.

I reach for him again, wanting to close the distance, to feel the warmth of his body against mine. "Daemon," I whisper, feeling the weight of his gaze on me, searching, seeking something within me.

He captures my hand, his fingers intertwining with mine, and I can feel the heat radiating between us. It feels like a vow, like a promise that he won't leave me again, that I won't let him.

"You're the only thing that keeps me grounded," he confesses, his voice low, heavy with meaning. "In this world of shadows and chaos, you're my light."

The words hit me like a physical blow, and I meet his gaze, searching for the truth in his eyes. There's vulnerability there, a flicker of something deeper, something that feels almost like hope.

"And you're my darkness," I reply, the admission heavy with the weight of our connection, our intertwined fates.

He smirks, but the expression is softer now, more genuine. "Then let's embrace it."

With that, he pulls me closer again, and this time, it feels different—more profound, more electric. We're entwined in this dance of chaos and passion, two souls drawn together by forces beyond our control.

As we sink back into each other, the shadows in the room deepen, swirling around us like a living entity, and I realize: this is what it means to be haunted. 

To be entwined in a web of desire, fear, and love, both beautiful and terrible.

The fire crackles in the hearth, the world outside fading away, and for now, we are lost in each other—two ghosts navigating the darkness, together.

I know if I'm onto you, you must be onto me.

A/n - I think this is the longest one-shot ive written but I love it, obviously inspo comes from the song 'Haunted' by Beyonce and once I started writing I didn't wanna stop, it's such a Daemon coded song <3

[esposamultifandom]

Simon just the tip Riley

Spreading out virgin! reader’s pussy out just by his thick head

Hushed promises of

“It’ll fit like a glove princess”

“Don’t’cha worry m gonna make yr little cunt feel so good”

And praises like

“Yr’ gonna milk me dry in less than a minute if ya grip on me so tight baby”

soon turn to Simon just the tip Riley being balls deep inside of you, thrusting into you like a rabid animal cumming in your sore cunny in less than five minutes.

* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊⋆ ₊ ﾟ ☽ * ₊ ⋆* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊⋆ ₊ ﾟ ☽ * ₊ ⋆ ੈ✩

Credits of header to @anitalenia

[esposamultifandom]

So we know secret baby trope but what about went on a mission and something happened and they were mia for over a year and come home expecting their wife to have moved on only to find them single and with their kid trope Price is the first that comes to mind, but it could happen to any of the boys really.

In my mind, when price is on his way back after being gone for over a year (maybe almost 2), he’s preparing an endless number of contingency plans. While there’s a possibility that you haven’t just accepted him as dead and moved on, he thinks it’s much more likely that you tried to lead a normal life after he’d been out of contact with you entirely for so long. He had told you that it was possible he would leave one day and not come back.

So he’s fully prepared to have to win you back. Convince you that it won’t happen this way again, even if he doesn’t know that. God, it’s gonna be such a pain in the ass if you have a new boyfriend that’s moved into the fucking house. Worse— if you sold the house to go live with the new boyfriend. He decided not to call— he needed his first conversation with you in over a year to be in person.

He debates whether he should knock or just use his keys. He settles on something halfway, knocking, then using his keys to open the door slowly. His car was still in the driveway, and new owners would’ve changed the locks.

The first thing he notices is that the house is kind of… a mess. Not to an unsafe or unhygienic degree, but there’s stuff everywhere. He can’t even tell if you’re home. He makes a beeline for bedroom and—

That… his eyes must be playing tricks on him. There you are in the middle of your unmade bed, napping with a baby in your arms. You’ve still got your wedding ring on. No signs of anybody living in the place but you and… and the baby. The photos of you together still up on the walls.

He didn’t have a contingency plan for this.

[esposamultifandom]

veritaserum - mattheo riddle

summary: when mattheo drinks veritaserum on a bet, he's confident he doesn't have anything to hide... until you show up.

word count: 3.1k

a/n: gosh i love this messy boy. just a little something sweet + fun!

"I don't know... shouldn't we save it for something... important?"

"Like, what Blaise?" Malfoy responded, exasperated.

"Yeah, got any plans you want to share?" Theo asked.

"All ears, bud" Mattheo joined in.

Blaise threw his hands up. "Fine, fuck it, do what you want with it" he said, resigned, referring to the small vial in Malfoy's hand that had the group's rapt attention as they huddled in the corner of their dormitory like they were first years at a sleepover.

"We should put it in somebody's goblet at dinner."

"We should slip it into Dumbledore's cup, Merlin knows what the geezer would say."

Theo got a wicked look on his face, "I'll give any of you lot 100 galleons to drink it."

Eyes widened around their circle at that.

"You're joking."

"Piss off."

"No, listen to me, we think we know everything about each other, don't we?" Theo continued, letting the sentiment linger "Which means the things we don't know are deep."

He grabbed the vial from Malfoy and dangled it in front of them; Veritaserum, the most powerful truth serum in the wizarding world, even having it in their possession was breaking about 15 Ministry laws.

Members of the group stared shiftily at one another, but Theo found Mattheo's gaze staring boldly at him as he leaned casually against his four-poster, a smirk on his face.

"Make it 200 and you've got yourself a deal" Mattheo grinned.

Snickers of laughter took the group as they punched one another in amusement and excitement.

"Bottoms up" Theo said, tossing the vial at him.

"I've got nothing to hide" Mattheo replied with an air of emblazoned confidence as he deftly popped the cork and threw the liquid back like a shot of firewhiskey before anyone could stop him.

It didn't taste like anything other than water, and for a moment Mattheo thought this was the easiest 200 galleons he'd ever make, but then he felt a sort of bubbling in his chest, like every feeling, every sentence he'd ever held back wanted to burst forth.

"...Well?" asked Malfoy, cautiously, leaning in, "How do you feel?"

"Bloody weird" Mattheo said, looking down at the empty vial in his hand. "And apprehensive, like I definitely don't want you to ask me things." His eyes widened at the words that had come so truthfully and vulnerably out of his mouth before he could stop them, suddenly realizing that he'd made a horrible mistake.

Theo was howling with laughter, leaning in and rubbing his hands together as he got ready to obliterate his best friend for being so cocky; he was going to make every galleon worth it.

"Did you take Blaise's Chudley Cannons scarf last term?" he asked.

"Yup, sold it to a fifth year for a bag of weed— SHIT" Mattheo said quickly, eyes wide before slapping a hand over his mouth.

"Mate, what the fuck?—" Blaise started, but Theo was on a tear.

"—Did you cheat off of Lorenzo's potions exam this week?"

"Of course" Mattheo admitted, the words blasting by his hand, "I've been doing it since fourth year, his handwritings the size of my fist, thanks for that by the way" he said, looking at Enzo.

"Prego, amico" Lorenzo said smiling and shrugging, "happy to help."

"Alright then" Blaise said, the anger and frustration clear in his voice as he eyed Mattheo, "better own up, didn't you slip McLaggen a galleon to let Theo score on him last match?"

"Yeah, fuck, and I'm not sorry about it. I'm tired of hearing Theo piss and complain about losing when he barely shows up to practice and lets the rest of us down."

"OOHHH!" shouted several of the guys.

"Fucking harsh mate!!"

"What the fuck?!?" Theo shouted angrily as he lunged for Mattheo and the others tried to hold him back.

Amidst the shouting and commotion, they didn't hear you knock on the door.

"Guys?" you asked, raising your voice to be heard.

Five heads turned your way as they stopped mid-brawl and began to stand up and right themselves, adjusting their ties and smoothing their robes. For his part, Mattheo's heart nearly shot out of his chest. No, no no no not right now he thought as you pushed your way into their room. On any other occasion he'd be thrilled to see you, but now the bubbling in his chest was reaching its peak at the sight of his deepest, most tightly held secret: you, and every single thing he felt about you.

He took in your amused smile, the light laughter on your lips, the way it made your eyes sparkle and he felt his palms tingle with sweat as he grasped them into fists and swallowed deeply, like he could ingest his own thoughts. You were his best friend, had been since the moment he met you on his first train ride to Hogwarts and he had no illusions about ruining your friendship by trying for anything else; girls like you didn't end up with guys like him.

"Are you alright?" you asked, looking at him strangely before his friends chimed in for him.

"S'fine!"

"Yeah, yeah!"

"Never better!"

"What do you need, love?"

"I am NOT fine!" Mattheo said boldly and rather loudly before he could stop himself and your eyes shot to him with concern.

"Wait, what's wrong Matty?" you asked, using the nickname he only tolerated coming from you.

He pursed his lips tightly and shook his head, averting his eyes to the floor, physically warring with the words that were flooding his subconscious.

What's wrong? A lot of things are wrong, YN. For starters, I love you. I love you so much it physically pains me to spend as much time as we do together and not to grab your hand, to pull you onto my lap, to nuzzle into your neck, to kiss you; I have a list of things I want to do to you every time I see you. Especially in that godsdamn skirt you're wearing. It's my favorite. You should know that. And I wish you would stop wearing it, you have no idea the ways guys look at you. I wish you'd wear it only for me. I wish you'd want me the way I want you, because I want you so badly. I wish you were mine, but I'm scared, no, fucking terrified of the way I feel about you because love is vulnerability and vulnerability is weakness and I can't tell you any of this so please, please don't ask me anything and please, please stop looking at me like that.

"Matty?" you asked again, now thoroughly concerned as your best friend slammed his hands over his ears as you walked towards him.

Theo was burning hot with anger, stewing over what Mattheo had said about him, he wanted to take him down a notch, to embarrass him in return. "Admit it" he interrupted, staring at Mattheo "you have a thing for Pansy and you've tried to make a move on her even though she's with Draco."

You stopped short of approaching Mattheo and stared at Theo.

"What?" you whispered, feeling physically ill, jealous and hurt even though you had no such right.

Mattheo straightened up and glared at Theo.

"What the fuck did you just say?!" Draco said, brushing past you as he came for Mattheo.

"I'm right, aren't I?" Theo pushed further, so smug, so certain he was right.

"No you fucking prat" Mattheo spat at him.

Draco grabbed Mattheo by the front of his robes. "You swear it, you haven't made a move on her?"

"I swear it."

"Not even before we were dating?" Malfoy pressed.

"Not even before you were dating" Mattheo confirmed.

"What the fuck is going on?" you said, exasperated, almost to yourself as you tried to calm down.

"Veritaserum" Blaise said by way of explanation as he leaned in to be heard over the continued shouting of your friends. "Theo bet one of us to drink it and, well..." he said, gesturing his hand by way of explanation at the calamity in front of you.

Malfoy was shouting questions at Mattheo who looked genuinely surprised if not annoyed, and Enzo was looking back and forth at them like it was a tennis match. Theo had a deeply skeptical look on his face as he listened on, "No, you're always weird around Pansy and YN though, I thought..." then, like a lightbulb went off, Theo looked at you, to Mattheo and back again.

"Do you think Pansy's hot?" Malfoy continued.

"Bro, give it up" Blaise said finally, stepping to pull him back, "I think you're in the clear."

"I mean yeah she's hot, but she's not my type. FUCK!" Mattheo replied, rubbing a hand over his face at the admission.

"She's not, but YN is" Theo said finally.

Mattheo bit his bottom lip and stared at the floor, concentrating very hard on the tassels of the rug beneath his feet as he shook his head, a grimace on his face.

Your heart trilled in your chest, which was literally rising and falling in both panic and excitement. Mattheo was shaking his head no, but his whole body was fighting something, there was something he didn't want to say... about you.

"So, she's not your type? Not attractive to you at all?" Theo pushed.

Mattheo's face was turning a dark shade of red as pursed his lips closed and shook his head vehemently, refusing to meet anyone's eyes, his own nearly watering with the exertion of fighting the potion within him.

"Totally platonic? Didn't give a shit when Seamus Finnegan asked her out last term?"

Mattheo glanced at Theo, gathering himself, as he tried desperately to say the only truth he wanted to share. "He's a prick, no secret I didn't think it was a good idea—"

"—You never told me that" you said quietly, confused, and not a little bit angry. "But you avoided me for a few weeks after, I remember..." you said, trailing off as you stepped closer to him, and Mattheo's looked genuinely afraid, outstretching his hands to stop you from coming any closer.

"What don't you want to say?—"

"—I don't want you here right now!" he said loudly.

You physically reared back at the harshness of his words. You caught his eye, trying to communicate the way you often did with one another, to ask things that could only be said without words, but you got nothing in response.

"R-Right" you said, your voice wobbling as you turned to leave, thoroughly embarassed.

And the sound of it nearly broke Mattheo's heart.

"Wait, wait, I didn't meant it like that, I don't want you to be upset, please don't be upset" he said, moving to reach for your hand urgently, the unmasked care and compassion in his voice making you turn and making Draco and Blaise bat at each other's arms in excitement like school girls at the scene unfolding in front of them.

"I don't want you to hear my truth" Mattheo said quietly, and just like that it was just the two of you, you who knew more than any of these idiots, you knew about Blaise's scarf (you had told him not to sell it), about him cheating in potions and paying off McLaggen, but even you didn't know his most deeply held secret and this isn't how he wanted it to come out.

"Please" he begged, in way none of his friends had ever heard him speak before.

"I just... I thought I knew all of your truths?" you said vulnerably, your chin wobbling, saddened at the idea that there was a part of him you didn't know.

"You don't. I'm sorry" he said simply.

"But they get to hear them?" you said, gesturing towards your friends.

"No, they don't know them either."

"What would be so bad that you wouldn't want anyone in your life to know, Matty?"

He bit his tongue as he tilted his head. "It isn't bad. I didn't say it was bad" he said.

You could tell he was playing with you, selectively choosing his words. Your curiosity piqued as you turned to face him fully with your arms crossed.

"What don't you want us to know?" you asked.

"How I — FUCK — feel — mmhmm" he tried to physically shove the words back into his mouth, clapping his hands over his mouth again as his body betrayed him.

Theo stepped forward, trying to pry his hands back. "Say it!" he said.

Mattheo tried to wiggle out of his grasp, the two of them thrashing back and forth.

"C'mon mate, time to earn those galleons! Cough it up! How you feel about what?" and Theo yanked Mattheo's hands away from his mouth just long enough for Mattheo to all but shout:

"HER!" he said, loudly, pointing to you. "About YN. I — FUCK — fucking love her."

You could have heard an owl feather hit the floor.

"Oh shit" Malfoy whispered.

Theo took a step back as he realized the enormity of what he'd just done. He'd thought Mattheo had a little crush on you, I mean, didn't they all? He thought it was just a bit of fun. But love? He'd know Mattheo for 7 years and he never so much as heard him say the word, let alone direct it at another person, in fact he knew just how much the concept had been beaten out of him as a child.

"Mate, I'm—" he started.

Mattheo glared at him in way that reminded you for a moment about the family he came from, and it was the first time you'd ever seen Theo genuinely afraid as the smile dropped from his lips and he took an unconscious step back.

"Fuck you" Mattheo said, stepping towards him, the measured control in his voice somehow more frightening than the alternative. "You always take shit too far, you know that? That's why—"

"—Matty?" you said, your quiet whisper and the questions that lingered behind it tugging at his heart and pulling his attention back to you.

He met your eyes and the fury he felt at Theo dissolved in an instant, like it had apparated from the room, because the way you were looking at him was an expression he'd only seen in his dreams. You didn't look angry or confused, you weren't laughing or embarrassed, the sparkle in your eye was back and a soft smile rested on your lips, your eyes were blown wide, hopeful even, with a hint of something else underneath that had a sensation like melted honey spreading throughout his entire body.

"Can we maybe talk... outside...?" you asked.

"Yes, for the love of the gods" he said, walking quickly to your side, letting his hand rest gently at your back, the intimate gesture not lost on anybody as your friends wolf-whistled and snickered and he flipped them the finger over his head.

Now that the truth was out, there was nothing stopping the words that flew out of Mattheo's mouth as you led him to a nearby secluded corridor.

"I really want to talk to you about this" he said, the moment you were outside of the dormitory, "I am so embarrassed that it came out that way, that's not at all how I wanted to tell you, well, I didn't want to tell you at all, I was terrified actually. I've liked you for a long time, really since the first day we met, do you remember? On the train? You were wearing that blue jumper, you smelled like cinnamon and vanilla... You always smell so fucking good—"

You laughed as you pulled him with greater urgency by the hand away from prying eyes as he continued to ramble on, the truth serum creating a veritable waterfall of words out of his mouth.

"—You're so fucking beautiful, I love your hair, your eyes, your smile, your nose... that sounds weird, but it's true, it's so fucking cute—"

"—Mattheo" you said, as you stopped, placing your hands on his chest and pressing him gently against the stone wall to get him to slow down. "Breathe."

He shook his head.

"No, it's out now, and I don't know how long this shit lasts and if I don't say this stuff now, I'm not sure I'll ever have the balls to say it to your face, I've held onto this for 7 years YN."

Your lips curled into a small pout at how sweet he was being, at the idea that your best friend had been pining for you since you were 11 years old.

"I love you" he continued breathlessly, "and not like a little bit. Like, a lot. I don't know..." he said, carding his hand through his brown curls, "I've never felt this way about anyone, anything. I'm all consumed with you. You're the only thing I think about, the only girl I want, I'd do anything for you. And I'm sorry if this is going to totally wreck our friendship, if you want things to stay the way they are, I will try my level best—"

But his words were cut short as you pressed your lips to his, capturing his truth, letting it wash over you, every word you had been desperate to hear, every thought you'd shared the same. It surprised him for only a second before his hands grasped your face and he pulled you further into him.

"You're fucking perfect" he whispered after a moment, his eyes dancing over your features.

"Remind me again why I didn't give you veritaserum like years ago?" you said, smiling against his lips.

"It's a felony?" he said, laughing.

"...Right" you said, laughing back.

You were only gone a few minutes, but as you scurried back to the dormitory you tried to fix your hair, and wipe the lipgloss off of Mattheo's face as he smiled down at you with puppy dog eyes.

"They're going to lose their mind" you said quietly just outside the door, "let's just play it cool, alright?"

And before he could respond that there was no way on earth he could possibly do that, you pushed the door open and all conversation stopped.

"...Alright?" Theo asked, turning to face you both, nervous at the potential mess he may have caused.

"Fine, we were just talking—"

"—She macked me!!" Mattheo shouted truthfully with a huge grin on his face as he wrapped his arm around you.

You gasped and swatted at him playfully, your cheeks blushing a rosy pink as your friends erupted into cheers, hoot and hollers, descending on you both as Mattheo looked down at you, glowing, happier than you could ever remember seeing him.

taglist: @girllblogging777, @iamdnb, @bookworm124, @zatannasrealgf, @r-a-c-h-e-l

[esposamultifandom]

Clingy

Dad!Tom riddle X Fem!Reader

Fluff

"Mommy is mine!" Mattheo, your spirited three-year-old, shouted, pushing Tom's face away from you.

"Excuse me?" Tom feigned offense, placing a hand over his chest dramatically. "She is married to me, little buddy." He proudly displayed your ring on his finger, causing Mattheo to cry in despair. You couldn't help but roll your eyes at your husband's playful antics.

Mattheo had definitely entered that clingy phase. He only wanted you to feed him, hug him, play with him, and put him to sleep. He absolutely despised when Tom even gave you a little peck on the lips, and oh, was Tom having fun teasing your little one.

In the past few days, Mattheo's clinginess seemed to escalate. Not that he wasn't clingy before, but now it had become even more intense. As you tried to cook, his little hands would constantly explore your body, causing him to become upset when Tom was around. In an attempt to scare Tom away, Mattheo would even throw his food at him, which only made Tom laugh even harder.

You gave Tom a knowing look and remarked, "I wonder where he got his bad temper from."

Tom affectionately placed a hand on your growing stomach and whispered against your head, "Let's hope this little one isn't as jealous as his brother."