#all italian comes from google translate

[s-awturn]

What it's like to date them || F1 Grid

cw: cuteness, display of affection, obscenity (?), a little dirty and degrading, love in its purest form.

starring: LH44, CS55, CL16, LN4, OP81, MV1 x latina!fem reader

a/n: after days without posting anything, I'm back, before you ask, I have the draft of Underworld Sun started, I have a Toto oneshot halfway through and something else in the draft, however,I wanted to write this because I know you like it and I like to make my readers happy, so enjoy!

he is a complete gentleman, he opens doors for you, pulls out chairs for you to sit down;

LEWIS HAMILTON:

even though he is very discreet, he makes sure everyone knows that you are his;

he loves it when you wear his clothes publicly or clothes with his name and/or number on them;

flowers, gifts, even a car, he loves to spoil you with anything you want;

jealous? Absolutely not, he knows that no one is good enough to attract his attention;

he loves your legs, completely in love with them and loves them even more when they are around his waist or head;

kisses on the hand and forehead are common things in your daily lives;

he loves it when you speak to him in his native language, he pretends he doesn't understand anything just to see you blush when he asks what it means;

there are many photos of you on his Instagram, without any further comments;

he likes privacy, so no quick sex in risky places;

in fact, he hates quick sex because he likes to fuck you in his own time, without rushing;

'Mrs. Hamilton's, 'my love', 'my life', 'darling', that's all he talks to you about.

but it's not because you're not going to have sex in some risky place that he won't tease you, he fucking loves seeing you trying to control yourself, keeping your composure;

fetish for compliments? Yes;

even if they are degrading compliments;

“You're so beautiful, baby, how can someone so beautiful be so depraved?”

you are the paddock's favorite couple;

CARLOS SAINZ:

he carries your bag or anything you have in your hand;

'mi reina', 'corazón', 'mi tesoro', 'mi cielo' is what he always calls you;

he takes you to Mallorca whenever he can;

sex in the car, sex in the driver's lounge, sex after the races, sex anywhere;

if there is an argument, his father is on his side;

you hate that he pays for things for you, but he doesn't care, he will pay for anything you want;

he is always, always touching you;

he always takes you to parties where he knows Latin music will be playing, because he loves to see you dance;

he loves to fuck you in your old bedroom at your parents' house, with your family downstairs;

long, overstimulating foreplay;

cute declarations of love in spanish and italian because yes;

he loves dancing reggaeton, salsa, samba or bachata with you;

yours, completely yours. He dedicates victories to you, you are the one he turns to in bad times, it is always about you;

sometimes he doesn't pay attention to what you say because he's obsessed with the movements of your mouth, he loves your mouth, kisses you whenever he can and loves the feeling of your lips around his cock;

kink size, kink size, kink, size, kink size, kink size;

"Don't make noise, corazón, we don't want your parents to hear you moaning, right?"

you are always holding hands, in any situation, anywhere;

CHARLES LECLERC:

he himself took his things to his house, clothes, cosmetics, books...;

he records TikTok trends with you;

he loves kissing you, from little pecks, cute kisses, to those that take your breath away and leave you anxious;

he understands a little Spanish and no Portuguese, but he loves to hear you speak and tries to use Google Translate (and fails miserably);

dance with him, dance for him, for God's sake just dance;

he loves your home country, loves knowing that you come from a different culture than his and wants to learn everything;

you are always traveling around your country, he loves dating a Latin girl;

it takes you to the best places in Monaco;

and fucks you in all of them;

'mon amour', mon cœur, 'mon ange', 'mon bébé', 'douceur', are some of the nicknames he calls you;

even if it is risky;

he installed The Sims on his computer for you to play;

He always wants you, his desire for you knows no bounds;

call him to fuck anytime, he will want to. Always;

he prepares movie sessions for you in the living room;

he cooks for you (and he's good at it);

Leo likes you more than you like him, and he loves it;

he always takes you to the Paddock, but keeps you away from Max Verstappen (for safety);

he loves (a lot) your hips, he's always touching them, holding them tightly, he's in love with that part of your body and loves it when you wear clothes that highlight this area;

"S'il te plaît, mon amour, sit on my face"

he's a complete sucker for you;

LANDO NORRIS:

there are few things he loves more than you;

he is literally the guy who likes to get hit by beautiful women;

especially if it's you;

he loves (so fucking much) when you speak Spanish or Portuguese to him;

and is learning the language;

wear his clothes and have him on his knees for you;

he buys you many, many books, just so you read to him;

always posts photos of yourself on Instagram stories;

quality time, absolutely, he loves spending time with you;

he is completely versatile, he has no problem letting you take charge sometimes;

he actually loves it when you boss him around;

unexpected trips, gifts, he loves to spoil you;

he likes to leave marks on you, nothing too rude, just something that reminds you of him at random times;

no problem teasing you in public, seeing you blushing and breathless without being able to react is his guilty pleasure;

very much in favor of caresses on the back of the neck or chin;

you can interrupt when he is playing, but only you;

he looks for you at the end of races, before anyone else;

'my dear', 'sweetie', 'bae' are the ways he likes to call you;

he loves it when you sit on his lap voluntarily;

he loves your eyes, but he doesn't deny that your breasts are his favorite part;

he sleeps with his hand on his chest, always;

"Five minutes, I just need five minutes with you, sweetie."

he likes to keep things low-key, call him low profile if you want;

OSCAR PIASTRI:

literally the kind of guy who only smiles with his girlfriend;

he is the good guy, he buys you flowers, drops you off at home, sends you letters, buys you chocolates;

the guy your parents would like you to marry;

the guy who always makes you cum before him (multiple times);

makes a point of leaving a discreet reference to you on the helmets;

buy food and things that remind you of your country;

as much as he love to see you speaking your native language, he feel embarrassed to ask you to speak;

he always does what you want because he knows you will do what he wants in bed;

words of affirmation, but always by letter or text message;

he has a sweet face, angelic even, but he's the kind of guy who takes you to the limit, makes you cum multiple times, leaves you overstimulated;

take him to see your country, he will love seeing the place where you grew up;

a little basic? Yes, he just calls you 'love' or 'angel' and you love it;

He will make a point of participating in your hobbies or reading your favorite books so he can talk to you;

he is a fan of soap operas, he watches them all with you;

he listens to his favorite playlists;

he loves your hands, his hand is always intertwined with yours;

but he also loves your legs, he wastes a lot of minutes of his life looking at them when you wear skirts, shorts and dresses;

"Can you give me one more, honey? I know you can"

MAX VERSTAPPEN:

he's crazy about you, completely and utterly in love with you;

that's why he's your number one fan, he follows everything you do, he roots for you and he doesn't try to hide it;

yes, he's jealous and hates other people wanting you, after all you are his;

but he loves it when you wear clothes that flatter you and insists that you wear them, after all anyone who tries something against you will have to fight with him;

He is intense, and he makes sure you know, the kisses, the touches, all his demonstrations towards you carry this intensity;

he loves to do what you want, spoiling you is the least he does;

be a spoiled brat, he will love it;

he will fight anyone for you;

he loves the fact that you are Latina, he loves it when you speak to him in Spanish or Portuguese;

he loves when you cook for him;

he always gives you tulips, he knows you don't like roses;

he doesn't care about the place or who is listening, he will want to fuck you anywhere, as long as they don't see you;

speaking of which, he prefers to see you from above, or any other position that sees your face;

breeding kink? yes. brat behavior? yes!

he loves to dominate you, make you needy and anxious for him;

'mijn liefde', 'mijn engel', 'mijn meisje', he prefers these nicknames to refer to you;

he likes to text you;

or when you wear his clothes;

whatever you want, it's yours;

root for him and you'll have the best night of your life (until he gives you another one)

"Don't be spoiled, dear, I always give you what you want"

gif credits: yuzuchupachups, silverstonesainz-archive, leqclerc, yrsonpurpose, goldsainz, countingstars-17

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ALL RIGHTS RESERVED TO S-AWTURN™ 🪐. I do not allow copying or republication. Any unauthorized publication will be reported.

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[itsprashimusic]

Monaco and Monza

Summary - Charles, his favourite person (and their puppy) before, during and after the most important race wins of his life.

Pairings - Charles Leclerc x fem!Reader

Warnings - no use of y/n, google translate French and Italian, r can make decent conversation in French and Italian, possible inaccurate timelines, it is hinted that R is not from France or Monaco, honorable louis tomlinson appearance bc I am a former louie girlie, R has blue light glasses, cuss words. Happy reading🩵

W/C - 3.9k

A/N - i write all my female Rs with a desi in mind. Written in 2nd pov. I wrote R with a mindset and likes similar to mine, you are free to skip this fic if you don't like it.

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Before Monaco

An hour had passed on the three hour flight from Imola to Nice. Charles was asleep and Leo was curled up in your lap. Sitting in an oversized top and sweatpants, you were quite comfortable while doing some work. You work for a company that allows you to work remotely, which is a huge blessing considering your longtime boyfriend travels the world every other week.

The tiny pup yawned big as he woke up from his nap. You scratched him under the chin. Leo moved around in your lap, found another comfortable spot and went right back to sleep just as Charles also moved to find another comfortable position to nap in. You smiled to yourself and continued working.

Soon the plane landed in a private airport in the French city of Nice. Your bags were handled by the hired help, and Charles insisted on carrying your laptop bag for you. This left you walking along his side with Leo in your arms, still sound asleep. The boat ride to Monaco didn't take long and the drive to your shared apartment went by in a blur.

It felt nice being home during race week. You left Leo in his bed and joined Charles in the living room. Coming up from behind you hugged him while softly asking, "Qu'est-ce que tu penses?" (what is on your mind?). Even after all these years you still cringed at your accent.

"The race" he replied.

You sighed as you remembered the dnfs, mechanical failures and team errors that Charles had to endure. Year after year, the pain just kept getting worse as you watched from the grandstands and eventually the garage.

"You should focus on the positives. The team has been performing well and this season has been different than the last 3, there is hope." you weren't sure if what you said was the right thing. You kissed him on the cheek and moved around the couch to come and sit next to him.

"It is not easy when every other time I have had hope, it has been ripped away and torn into tiny pieces," Charles said while looking defeated. You felt sad seeing him like this. You just held your arms out and let him fall into your embrace. With the couch being big enough for two people to sleep on it, soon you and Charles fell asleep, still in the hug.

During Monaco

Photographers snapped photos of you and Rebecca, Leo's leash entwined with your hand. The two of you were spotted outside the Ferrari hospitality an hour before qualifying. Charles was busy with his engineer and strategist and asked you to give him some alone time. So, you thought a small walk around the paddock with your puppy and good friend would be beneficial.

Eventually the crowd of fans surrounding you and Rebecca who wanted to see Leo was getting quite large, so you politely said goodbye to the fans, picked up the pup and made your way back to the Ferrari motorhome. You got a text from your boyfriend.

Can you come to my drivers room?

You entered the room and put Leo down, allowing him to calm down and drink some water from his very own water bottle and attached bowl. "Darling, do you need something?" you asked Charles as he looked tense.

You moved closer to him. Charles caught you by surprise when he pulled you even closer and hugged you extremely tight. "Je ne me sens pas bien," (i don't feel good) he whispered. "C'est bon. Tout ira bien. It's ok, you'll be ok." you quietly kept repeating to him until Leo began demanding attention with his big brown eyes and soft whines.

Charles wiped the few tears that escaped and picked him up with a new smile adorning his face. For a moment, it was just the three of you, your perfect little family. There was a knock at the door, followed by a Ferrari team member informing Charles that he was required in 5 minutes. Charles placed a wet kiss on your forehead.

"Thank you for supporting me the way you do. I love you so much, mon cœur," (my heart) he said, his lips still on your forehead. The pair walked out of the room and split ways. You had the hired help watch Leo for the duration of qualifying in a private room.

You sat with Charles' family just as the Sky Sports camera panned on you. You smiled when you saw yourself on the monitor and gave a small wave while sitting next to Charlotte.

Even though you knew that Charles would easily clear Q1, you could not help the anxiety that made its way throughout your body. He crossed the line and made it to Q2. With the next session, your anxiety worsened. But within 15 minutes your nerves eased.

Q3. This was it. As the minutes slowly turned from 12 to 2, you were feeling sick. Charles' sleek Ferrari flew over the finish line and your hands flew to your mouth. Pole Position. At his home race. At your home race. The cameras focused on you to get your and his family's reaction.

At parc ferme, Charles ran over to his team who hyped him up even more. He signed the wheel and posed for the photos, the smile never leaving his face. Even after finishing up his media duties and making his way back to his family and you in the motorhome, his smile remained ever present. You swore he never hugged you tighter than that.

Race day. The day that actually mattered.

You entered the paddock a few steps behind Charles, Leo once again in your hold. You didn't get a lot of time with Charles, considering he was the man of the hour after securing pole. The two of you shared a moment together before he had to head out for the national anthem.

"Comment te sens-tu, chérie?" (how are you feeling, darling?) you asked him while he changed into his race suit. He looked up and the look on his face gave you your answer. You smiled and he continued wearing his suit. There were butterflies in his stomach. That meant he felt nervous, hopeful, anxious and confident all at once.

Charles was out on the track, and you once again joined his family in the motorhome. At that point though, it would be more appropriate to call them your family. You and Charles have been together for a long time. The pair of you had seen each other at their lowest and highest. When Charles lost his father and when for nearly a year you could not get a job. When news of Anthoine's death reached Charles, he was on holiday with you and your family in another country. Your family gave him the comfort he needed. When you got news that your parents contracted covid, there was nothing you could do sitting in your apartment in Monaco. Pascale was like a second mother to you.

The race began. You found a place to sit and watch the race. Charles was in the lead. A huge crash. A totaled redbull and a red flag. You felt the butterflies creeping up from your stomach to your throat. The race resumed and continued. Piastri was close to Charles, but not enough to threaten his position. It felt like time slowed down during the final lap. You had an earbud plugged in one ear and could hear Crofty's iconic last lap commentary.

The number 16 Ferrari flew past the checkered flag and fireworks flew out from the sides of the track. Charles' family members were already hugging each other and some of the team members who were there. But you didn't move. Tears were flowing down your face and a smile was etched on your face. The first person you moved to hug was Charlotte, the older woman was like an elder sister to you.

The camera's stream kept cutting from Charles out on the track to you and his family in the motorhome. Everyone quickly left the garage and made their way to parc ferme. You saw Charles pull up and stop in front of the 1st place stand. You watched from the back as he ran to his team, Arthur and Lorenzo pushed their way to the front. After getting weighed, the team moved to allow you to come to the front where Charles walked towards you.

Normally, you and Charles would keep the pda on the lesser side when cameras were around, but not this time. The forever smiling face, messy-haired and slightly teary-eyed boyfriend of yours pulled you directly into a powerful kiss. His left arm was around your back while his right hand was half on your face and half on your neck. You could hear and feel all the cameras going off around you.

Charles broke the kiss but kept your foreheads connected. You held both of his hands. "Tu l'as fait," (you did it) you repeated in all the languages you knew while nodding your head. You could see the tears welling up in his eyes again. He quickly blinked them away, "L'ho fatto," (i did it) he said in Italian quickly kissed you once again before hugging you.

You stood below the podium and watched as he received the trophy he had been waiting his entire life for. You were still crying. The tears would not stop, and they only got worse when Charles made eye contact with you after he was presented with the medal. He mouthed the words I love you. So much. Thank you. You could only hold your hand to your heart in response.

After Monaco

Even after a full day, you could still smell the fragrance of champagne wafting off of Charles.

You and Charles had celebrated his win on Sunday night in a club. He was practically glued to your side the entire night. No matter who he was talking to, either he did it while having an arm around you or holding your hand. By the end of the night, you were left with a very clingy and very drunk boyfriend. With Joris's help, you got Charles into the car. He drove the both of you home.

Back at the apartment, Charles seemed to have sobered up a bit after you made him eat some food.

"Did I ever tell you how much I love you?" Charles was lying down on the bed and was lovingly staring at you.

"All the time," you answered while changing for the night.

You finished changing and joined Charles in bed. Leo who was previously perched near Charles' feet climbed onto you and snuggled up on your chest.

Charles got your attention by saying your name, "I want you to understand what I mean when I say this. I love you. I appreciate you so much, even I cannot comprehend it. You have supported me throughout my years in Formula 1 and Formula 2. You have stood by me all these years, even when you had to sacrifice your job and sleep schedule for me. Je veux que vous compreniez la profondeur de ce que je dis." (i want you to understand the depth of what i am saying).

His eyes kept moving around but eventually rested on your face. He looked into your eyes when he finally spat out what he truly wanted to say.

"Mon cœur, mon âme, ma vie, je veux passer le reste de ma vie avec toi. Veux-tu m'épouser?" (My heart, my soul, my life, i want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?)

I took you a second to process what Charles said. You looked down and saw him holding a simple gold band with three small diamonds set in it. His free arm was laid across your stomach under Leo, who woke up when he sensed his mom feeling strong emotions.

Tears filled your eyes, your heart began beating faster and you were sweating a bit. Leo moved to the bed and was now licking the tears that fell from your eyes. You felt like you couldn't speak, but you very much knew what your answer was.

Before Monza

The summer break was perfect. You used your paid leave and were fully able to enjoy your time with the entire family. The photos of Leo that Charles posted to his instagram were adored by the fans. Your insta account remained private, but you still posted the dog nonetheless.

Neither of you announced the engagement just yet, wanting to keep it to yourselves for a while. Fans got curious when they saw a new ring around that special finger after Charles' win in Monaco, but since it was quite simple and small, they thought nothing much of it. You were known for wearing many different rings on the same finger, so people thought it was just another ring you fancied.

Unfortunately, after your long break, you were required to come back to the office for a few days for important meetings with the higher-ups of your company. That meant you missed the race in Zandvoort and Charles podium. But you made it up to him by joining him in Monza, his adopted home race.

Walking in the streets of Monza with a loved Ferrari driver was always quite the experience. Leo loved the attention from all the fans, he was a born extrovert. You and Charles had lunch at one of your favourite restaurants. The both of you sat in a relatively private section of the restaurant.

"I missed you at Zandvoort," Charles said before eating a morsel of his favourite pasta. "I'm sorry I couldn't be there. I tried to leave as early as I could, but by the time the meeting finished it made no sense to come," you said wishing you could have been there for him. Ever since Monaco, the team had been struggling. It brought back painful flashbacks of 2022 and 2023.

Things were not the best between you and Charles during the week you were out for work. The timings never seemed to match, when he had the energy to talk you were too burnt out, and doing all of this while also planning a wedding was not easy. It put a small strain on your relationship which seemed like it was reaching its breaking point during this weekend.

During Monza

You spent the rest of the week working. In between the free practice sessions, you were spotted with a pair of blue-light glasses on and bent over your laptop and a notebook. Leo was either sleeping in his carrier by your feet or was with Arthur or Lorenzo.

You barely saw Charles the entire weekend. He was either busy with his engineer and strategist or was filming content. It only made the strain in your relationship even worse and left Rebecca having to hear your side of it for most of the weekend considering both the boys were quite busy.

It was only before qualifying that you managed to get a moment with Charles at all.

"Charles, I know this is an important race for you, but we need to talk," you sternly said leaving no room for arguments. Charles was about to protest but you simply pulled him by the arm to his drivers room.

"Pourquoi tu ne me parles pas?" (why are you not talking to me?) you folded your arms while facing him. "You have been avoiding me ever since Thursday!"

"Oh, I'm sorry. I thought you were too tired and 'fagged out' to want to talk," he replied sarcastically and with air quotes. "Je ne comprends pas pourquoi tu dois te comporter comme ça!" (I don't get why you have to behave like that!) Charles started walking around angrily and went off rattling away in French at such a fast pace you could not understand what he was saying.

"Just stop!" you yelled. "Just tell me why you are angry at me," you said, softer this time, almost in defeat.

"I don't like it when you are so busy with your work that you do not have time for us," Charles whispered after a long pause.

"And how do you think I feel when you are so busy with your work? I am required to go to the office at least every six months. You travel around the world every other week. You have less free time than I do, but have you heard me complain? So, instead of getting angry that I had to leave for one week to discuss plans for the company's future with the CEO, you should be happy that it was only one week out of the 52 in a year."

By the time you finished speaking, Charles had his hands over his face and was standing quite far from you. He whispered something inaudibly. With a confused look on your face, you moved closer to your fiancé. Upon feeling your body heat in the cold room, he removed his hands from his face and repeated his words.

I'm sorry.

The both of you wrapped yourselves in an embrace and for 5 minutes were only apologising and promising to do better in the future. You left the room after giving him a kiss. You headed down to the garage wanting to watch quali with Arthur who was watching Leo while you worked.

The timer began the countdown into Q1. Normally you would've been feeling quite nervous, but you were distracted by the charming british singer sitting next to you. Being a young girl during the height of One Direction was something else entirely. Your childhood dreams of meeting your favourite singer from the famous boyband had now come true.

Soon it was time for Q3 and you got a photo with Louis who by the time Q3 began, just like the rest of the world, fell in love with Leo and his photos. Charles put in great laps, but ended up only p4 alongside Russel.

Charles finished with his media duties and met up with you inside the motorhome. You were on a work call when he walked into the room. Leo was in the corner of the room scarfing down his food as if he hadn't eaten in years, his ears flopping all over the place.

You cut the call frustrated, removing your glasses from your face and placing them on your head. "Est-ce que tu vas bien?" (are you good?) he asked while holding you from the side and kissing your temple. You nodded and just packed up your things while Charles gathered his things as well.

The grandstands were filled with a sea of red and occasional yellow. Your outfit consisted of only red, yellow and black. Charles had left for the paddock earlier, so you made plans to have breakfast with Rebecca and leave for the paddock together.

You walked around before the race with Leo on the leash in front of you, Rebecca by your side. "So, how is wedding planning going?" she asked, her beautiful scottish accent making you smile. "We are still looking at venues. All we know is that it's going to be sometime in August of next year."

The drivers would soon be called for the national anthem. So, you went back to the Ferrari garage looking for your soon-to-be husband. You found him sitting next to Arthur, water bottle in hand. Leo instantly ran towards him and began climbing up his dad.

"Just do your best. Give it your all. Je t'aime tellement." (i love you so much) you sent Charles off with a hug. Leo was fast asleep in his carrier, so you joined Arthur down in the garage. You put on the large red headphones and waved at the camera when you saw yourself on the broadcast.

Halfway through the race, it hit you that Charles could possibly win. It was a stretch considering he was attempting a one-stopper. But as lap after lap went by the possibility of that dream coming true seemed more and more likely. His tires were probably gonna look like chewed-up bubblegum by the end of the race, but if he managed them just right...

He did it. He fucking did it. The roar of the Tifosi was stronger than ever. Unlike his last win, this time you were not seated. You were jumping up and down, cheering as loud as you could, matching the energy of the Ferrari team members around you. Some of them hugged you.

While Charles was finishing his cool-down lap, the mechanics and other team members rushed out to greet Charles in parc ferme. You stayed close to Arthur, knowing that you could possibly get pushed in the wrong direction. With a hand around your back, he guided you to the front where you could see the beautiful red car pull up.

Charles came running toward the team, moving quickly to try and hug everyone possible. As he moved from Arthur to hug you, from the corner of your eyes you could see more cameras making their way towards you. FLASH! And that was how one of the iconic photos of Monza 2024 was born. Charles' arms wrapped around you and he had his visor up, his eyes filled with so much emotion. You were smiling widely in the photo and had your hands on either side of his helmet. But the part that made the photo iconic was that your left hand was facing the camera, and in that, you had tucked away all of your fingers except the one with your engagement ring.

Winning the Italian Grand Prix as a Ferrari driver is always special, so you watched the podium celebration from inside the motorhome, wanting him to enjoy the moment with the team and the Tifosi to the fullest.

After Monza

For the next two days, the streets of Monza were filled with Ferrari flags being either hung from somewhere or people waving them around. It seemed like every other Italian was asking for an autograph from Charles or a photo with him. But it wasn't just Charles and Ferrari who were the talk of town. So were you.

That photo of you and Charles just after the race had gone viral. At first, people were freaking out, wondering if the two of you were really engaged or if it was a joke. Only when Charles reposted the photo to his story did fans really start freaking out.

Congratulations were pouring out of everyone's mouth who had seen the photo or heard of the news. You didn't mean for the news to overshadow Charles' incredible win on 38-lap old tires. But it didn't. As a matter of fact, the win and engagement news gelled well together, neither taking away from the other.

The night before the team would be heading to Maranello you and Charles laid in the hotel bed, Leo fast asleep on his own bed. "I'm sorry for not asking if you'd be fine with me announcing our engagement," you said in a soft voice while drawing shapes on his torso. Charles, who had you wrapped around his side, kissed your forehead and said, "Je suis content que tu l'aies fait," (I am glad you did it).

The next morning Charles posted a photo of a formal dinner the two of you had with not just his but also your family where the engagement was announced. Of course, Leo was in the center of the photo.

A/n - honestly idk what i even wrote. i am tired af and just needed to get this out of my system. Hope you enjoyed reading🩵

[deadghosy]

How the Slytherin boys react to child! sibling reader ignoring them

Ft. Tom Riddle, Mattheo Riddle, Blaise Zabini, Theodore Nott, Lorenzo Berkshire.

Warning: google translated Italian

I appreciate reblogs, comments, and such as likes.

Riddle brothers

Tom thought the cause of this was because of Mattheo. So he brings the alleged culprit to you.

“Mattheo. What did you to upset them?”

“Man I didn’t do shit!”

It was worse when you didn’t come for dinner. Now Tom was actually worried along with Mattheo. So they sat you down, you guys talked and it was all good.

Mattheo and Tom however acted too nice to you after the whole ignoring situation…

Like too nice.

It creeped you out a lot.

Blaise Zabini

You ignored him cause he didn’t get you want you wanted.

“You wanna be petty? I’ll be petty to you too you git.” He says as he starts to ignore you as well.

This went on all day. But the first one it broke was him as he sighed and went to your room.

“Hey, I’m sorry. I went to buy what you wanted. I realized I spoiled you too bloody much.”

And that’s all it was for you to crack and smile at him.

Theodore Nott

All aboard the annoying express!

He’s talking the native language you both speak until you break and yell at him to shut his trap.

“Cmon lil sis/bro. Perché sei arrabbiato con me? Cosa ho fatto di sbagliato. È stato perché ho mangiato i tuoi avanzi? Giuro che ti prenderò di più.” (Cmon lil sis/bro. Why you mad at me?? What did I do wrong. Was it cause I ate your leftovers? I swear I’ll get you more.)

You huff at him which made him smirk at you breaking.

“Ehi, pensi che io possa avere il tuo cibo per domani?” (Hey, do you think I can have your food for tomorrow?)

“NO!”

Lorenzo Berkshire

He just rolls his eyes at you.

Cmon now, why be angry at him was there’s always a 50/50 percent chance he actually didn’t do anything to you

“Cmon…stop pouting and talk to me. I’ll listen to you?” He says sitting beside you only for you to turn your head away from him.

“Fine. Be that way cause guess who isn’t getting ice cream.”

“WHAT?!” Lorenzo smirks seeing you break

“THATS WHAT I THOUGHT! Now cmon.”

[rafesslxt]

𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐚 𝐥𝐚𝐰 | 𝐭. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐭

sfw content | theodore nott | requested

aesthetic: 🍝🍴💋🤌🏼🇮🇹 | masterlist ⎥words: 420

「 ✦ you and theodore are cooking some good old pasta and you decide to mess with him and break his italian heart ✦ 」

warnings: none other than breaking spaghetti in half

note: english is not my first language, Italian words were translated with google translator

I was standing in Theo's kitchen, putting a pot with some hot water on the stove before getting out a pack of spaghetti when suddenly an evil little idea popped into my head.

Last time I ruined his wine with some sprite to tease him. I know that Pasta is his favorite dish in the world. I mean, would it be that bad If I messed with him a little bit? I heard him coming back from another room so I turned around and smiled at him. "You're back with the tomatoes?" "Yes cara mia. I picked them from the garden, my mother has a little vegetable patch out there." his thick Italian accent sounded through the room.

"Here, smell them." He folded them in front of my nose and I indeed smelled it's freshness. He kissed my cheek and walked past me towards the stove and pulled out a little pan.

I turned around so I could watch him, when I saw the spaghetti again and a smirk formed on my lips. "Sooo.. I think the water is ready to put the spaghetti in." I said and grabbed the pack and opened it, getting the noodles out of it.

I put both my hands on the ends of them when I saw him widening his eyes. "Oh no, tesoro, ti prego, non farmi questo di nuovo!" Oh no darling please don't do this to me again!

I smiled at him devilish and broke all of the spaghetti in my hands in half, his face twisting in frustration. "Dio, mi stai facendo impazzire! E' terribile! Non posso mangiare questo!" "God you're driving me insane! This is awful! I can't eat this!"

I laughed when I somehow with my bad Italian skills, understood what he told me. "What do you mean you can't eat them like that? It's the same taste Theo, don't be silly."

"No it's not! I can't eat those half broken things. This is against the pasta law!" I raised my eyebrows at him and giggled. "Pasta - what? Law?"

"Yes! This is unforgivable y/n!" I smirked and put the pasta down before I stepped in front of him and put both of my hands on his chest. " I'm sorry Teddy, how about I show you how sorry I am after dinner, hm?"

He looked down at me with a small grin and raised eyebrows. "Oh you sure as hell will amore. But before that you can eat those things alone. I'm gonna make my own spaghetti!"

I got this request by @samgonecrazy under a post similar to this. I hope u liked it even tho it‘s very short [like theos spaghetti now ha ha].

taglist: @sofa-couch26 @itsarajr @hisparentsgallerryy @mixvchelle @ummmmmmm-username @belle-blue @beautywine @sagetakami @simp-for-fantasy @whyamireadingthis @i-like-pandas5 @themissingweasley26 @thegirlwhosimpstoomuch @justarandomcanadiantransdude @helendeath @thatonepansexual2000 @imabee-oralizard @supernaturaldawning @brodiedoesthings @gxdsfavgal @synicaljah @yourenogoodforme

thank you for reading &‘ supporting 🫶🏻

xoxo sarah <3

[formulaforza]

—if walls could talk

some things are meant to be secret (we'd fall from grace) pairing: charles leclerc x female reader warnings: 18+ minors dni. loadsss of google translated french. language, friends talking about sex, nsfw warnings under the cut :) love, mackie... 6.3k words! sometimes the only person who can help you out is a good friend. happy almost thanksgiving to all my american followers :) thankful for each and every one of you. mwah mwah mwah.

18+ because: fingering, oral sex (fem receiving), unprotected sex, aftercare, mentions of hookups/faking it

You’re the last one to walk through the door of Charles’ apartment. Everyone else has been long comfortable, leaving imprints on the comfortable couch, footprints in the freshly-vacuumed rug, empty wine bottles and half-empty glasses on the coffee table. 

There’s always something so cold about his apartment—always empty, always dusty, filled with the remnants of his boyhood and the promise of his adult life. It has all the makings of a home, but it still feels like a house—like a museum instead of a secondhand shop. Always, except on days like tonight, when it’s filled with warm laughter and the smell of half a dozen different meals and the quiet hum of his favorite playlist. On days like today, it feels like a home. 

Nobody in the living room hears you open the door or slip off your shoes—they’re too preoccupied in their busy, lively conversation about a road closure on the way to the airport in Nice that adds twenty minutes on to the drive. You move in the opposite direction, towards the kitchen, to set your crowd offering—blue cheese stuffed shrimp—on the counter and get a wine glass from the cabinet to fill. He’s in the kitchen when you turn the corner, carefully examining the platter of Italian meatballs he’s got cooking in the oven. 

Charles looks up as soon as you set the heavy plate down on the counter. “Hé!” Hey, he greets, closing the oven door and pulling off his blue mittens to properly kiss both of your cheeks, a single arm wrapping around your middle to pull you into a quick hug. “Quand es-tu arrivé?” When did you get here?

“Tout à l'heure,” Just now, you reply, roll up the sleeves of your shirt because his kitchen is so small, and heats up so quickly when the oven is on. “Désolé, je suis en tard,” Sorry I’m late.

“T'es pas en tard,” You’re not late, he interjects, dragging a tortilla chip through someone’s dip and popping it into his mouth. With his other hand, he’s reaching into the cabinet above his head, pulling down a wine glass and handing it to you. 

“Je suis très en tard,” I am so late, you smile, take the empty wine glass with a thank you and follow suit with your own chip in the fame dip. “Je reviens directement du travail. Les crevettes sont restées dans le réfrigérateur du bureau tout l'après-midi,” I came straight from work. The shrimp sat in the office fridge all afternoon, you explain, and he scowls, raises his brows at you and at the shrimp. You chuckle, nod.  “N'en mangez pas,” Don’t eat it. 

His eyes are stuck on your cheek, which forces your hand to investigate what he might be staring at. “Quoi?” What? You ask, fingers coming up with nothing but an embarrassed heat. 

“Rien, juste... tu as un cil,” Nothing, just… you have an eyelash, he lets a sharp exhale leave through his nose, “je l'enlèverai,” I’ll get it, and then he does. Carefully, with the pad of his middle finger, he picks the eyelash from your cheek. You don’t look at him while he does it, but you are watching when he transfers it to his thumb and drops it onto the platter of shrimp with a quick flick. “Oh, non,” he feigns concern, grabs the platter from the counter, “Allons juste…” Let’s just… he laughs and holds the plate over the trash can and drops the shrimp into the plastic bag with a thump. 

“Bon appel,” good call, you laugh. 

He drags you into the living room, towards the rest of the evening festivities, with his arm tossed over your shoulder. Between that, and the whole let me get your eyelash thing minutes earlier, you’re as close to certain a person can get that he and his girlfriend are still broken up.

They go through phases, the two of them. She doesn’t like your friend group very much, and Charles doesn’t seem like he likes her all that much, but they come and go like seasons. Together one month, broken up the next week. He usually tells you, but even when he doesn’t, you usually know. He’s always touchier with you when she’s out of the picture. Not that you mind it, but. He is. 

It’s all a little more comfortable, like you’re both a little less aware of the fact that you’re the only girl in the group who isn’t spoken for, or that you’re both atrociously the other’s type.

“Regarde qui j'ai trouvé,” Look who I found, Charles announces, and you’re met with a spattering of greetings, plopping down onto the couch, slotting between Marta and an empty space that is quickly occupied by Charles. 

You both fight over the corner seat, who gets to take up more of it. He loves to sprawl out and you love to curl up. When it’s all settled, he’s spread out like he likes, and you’re curled up into the space he leaves, half leant against him with your knees pulled to your chest, sleeves pulled over your hands because it’s hot in the kitchen, but only in the kitchen. 

“J'ai entendu dire que vous avez tous les deux eu un week-end assez mouvementé,” I heard you both had quite the eventful weekend, Marta teases. She’s the only other person besides the man next to you—as far as you know—that knows about what went down last Friday night. It takes even you a moment to remember, having already relegated the mortifying details to the bottom of your soul. When you do recall, your cheeks burn with the sudden blow flow and you giggle, curl into Charles a little further than you probably should.

“Quoi?” What, Joris asks, “ce qui s'est passé?” What happened?

“Rien ne s'est passé,” Nothing happened, Charles tries to protect you from re-living the evening, but it’s no use. Now that your friends have a sniff of a story, they won’t stop until it’s told in complete, painstaking detail. So, you begin:

“J'étais en train de garder un chat le week-end dernier pour mon collègue, n'est-ce pas?” I was cat sitting for my coworker last weekend, right?

— —

You were indeed cat-sitting for a coworker last weekend. It was an orange cat whose name you never really learned, much less remembered, and you were on day three of five of cat-sitting. It’s important for the rest of the story, for later. It is. 

Anyway, you were cat-sitting on a Friday night, but that wasn’t going to stop you from going out. Your sister had invited you, something about a club and her boyfriend’s friends visiting from London. Only if I can claim a brit, you’d joked. You’d joked, right up until coming face-to-face with the twenty-something, five-foot something-but-still-taller-than-you, perfect brown hair and perfect green eyed British man that had come along for the visit. You weren’t joking after meeting him. 

Once the two of you were finally drunk enough to lose any sense of what’s good for you, you were squeezing into the back of a taxi and stumbling up the stairs of your apartment complex, the cute boy and his little kisses and touchy hands slowing the whole process down. 

We all know what a drunken Friday night hookup looks like, so. There’s no need to explore the logistics of it with someone who’s name you’ve since forgotten, who you hope is back home in London never to return. Because where the story really gets good, is after the uneventful hookup, when Mr. Brit really needed to get back to his fiends and had you walking him to your apartment door in just a towel because he didn’t have the patience to wait for you to put on some fucking clothes. 

— —

“Bon sang,” damn, Hugo laughs from the other end of the sofa, “tu es vraiment si mauvais en sexe?” Are you really that bad at sex? 

“Va te faire foutre!” Fuck you, you scoff. “Je suis incroyable en matière de sexe,” I’m amazing at sex.

“Je peux trouver quelqu'un pour vous donner des cours, si besoin,” I can find someone to give you lessons, if you need. 

You pause, blink twice, and then continue your story. “De toute façon,” Anyways.

— —

As you open the door to let him out, the cat you’ve been cat-sitting—see. It did come back to be important—darts out of the door. 

“Grab him!” You’d yelled, and the guy actually looked back at you before replying. 

“I’m allergic.”

You scoffed, hurrying past him and down the stairs after the cat. You manage to corral it in the corner of the stairwell, pick it up and return to your apartment, just in time to watch the door shut behind you. You look at the door, at the guy you’d just fucked, at the cat in your hands, and then back at the door. “That is not good,” you say.

The guy laughs. “Just open it.”

Oh, brilliant. Why hadn’t you thought of that? “It’s locked.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh.”

By the grace of God and all things good in this world, the guy had a fully-charged phone. Unfortunately for you, of the three people with a spare key to your apartment, there was only one number you had memorized: Charles. 

You text him before you call him. It’s me, please don’t send me to voicemail, and then he did send you to voicemail twice before calling the number back. 

“Bonjour?”

“‘Bonjour?’ Mon cul!” ‘Hello?’ My ass! You greeted, the cat snarling and wiggling against your grip. You were so far beyond being in the mood for pleasantries. You just really, really wanted some fucking pants. “J'ai besoin que tu viennes ouvrir ma porte. Genre, il y a dix minutes,” I need you to come unlock my door. Like, ten minutes ago. 

“Et avec qui ai-je le plaisir de discuter?” And who do I have the pleasure of speaking with? You swear if you could, you’d punch him through the phone. You can’t, so you settle for hanging up. 

It’s at this time that Mr. Brit properly excuses himself from the evening of fun, because now that he knows you won’t stand outside your apartment in nothing but a towel for the rest of time, his conscience is clean. 

You and Charles live a sixteen minute walk from each other, and he definitely chose to walk rather than literally any other form of faster transportation. Maybe you should have disclosed your current state over the phone, but that probably would have made him walk slower. 

When he finally does trudge up the stairs, he stops three steps short of your landing at the sight of you, towel and cat and literally nothing more. “Qu'est-ce qui t'est arrivé, putain?” What the fuck happened to you? He laughs, and then finishes his walk up the stairs, holding your key out to you tauntingly. 

“Connard,” Asshole, you mutter, snatching the key away from him with your free hand and forcing it into the lock. “J'avais un gars chez moi,” I had a guy over, you add, forcing the door open with your hip. 

“Où à?” Where? He asks, following you into the apartment.

“Qu'est-ce que tu veux dire, où?” What do you mean, where? You laugh, gesture around the apartment. “Ici,” here. 

Charles frowns, scowls even. “Et il t'a laissé dehors?” And he left you out there?

You nod, gather up your clothes from the floor before they can exist there long enough to be perceived. “Tu n'es pas obligé de rester, je vais bien,” You don’t have to stay, I’m fine, you tell him, half-usher him back out the door he came through. “Je sais que ta copine va probablement me tuer,” I know your girlfriend is probably going to kill me next time she sees me.

— —

“Je ne peux pas croire qu'elle ne t'a pas tué,” I can’t believe she didn’t kill you, Ricky chuckles, looking to Charles. 

You find solace in the bottom of your wine glass, an excuse to fill the silence that follows Ricky’s comment. “En fait, nous avons rompu,” we actually broke up, Charles says, and the room falls into the same silence it always does everytime they break up. It’s not that you guys don’t like her, so much as… well. Yeah, it is that you don’t like her. But she didn’t like you guys first, so it really shouldn’t matter much that none of you like her. 

“Je suis désolé, mec,” I’m sorry, mate, Joris offers, and then everyone follows suit with half-hearted apologies they don’t mean. 

“C'est bien, vraiment,” It’s fine, really, he offers to the group. “Elle était gentille, mais elle ne l'était tout simplement pas…” she was nice, but she wasn’t… he hesitates. You take another sip of your wine. Your friends listen to him intently.  “Je ne veux pas être méchante,” I don’t want to be mean.

“Soyez méchant,” Be mean, Marta giggles. 

He laughs nervously, fidgets with his fingers, watches his rings spin. “Elle n'était pas très bonne. Elle ne pouvait pas... Je ne l'ai jamais fait, tu sais,” She wasn’t very good. She couldn’t… I didn’t ever, you know, he trails off, gesturing wildly into the space around him, anything to avoid having to say the words the entire room has picked up on. 

You roll up your sleeves, hot again. Burning. 

The teasing that follows from the guys is relentless, gets to a point where you and Marta step in, begging them to stop kicking a dead horse while Charles is in the bathroom. They do ease up, and the night continues far, far away from horrible hookup stories and mortifying relationship admissions. 

You were the last to arrive, which means you’ll be the last to leave, make sure that the whole place has been cleaned up, returned to its stiff and dusty places in the apartment before you head home for the night. 

“Juste pour que tu le saches,” just so you know, you comment, scraping the last of the left behind chip-dip into a tupperware container while he gathers up the now-stale crackers from the charcuterie board. “Je ne te crois absolument pas,” I totally don’t believe you.

He meets your eyes, confused. “Tu ne me crois pas à propos de quoi?” Don’t believe me about what?

“A propos de ne pas…” about not… you look away, direct your attention to the lid of the container. Anything but looking him in the eyes while talking about each other’s sex lives. “Tu sais. Il est impossible que vous n’ayez pas joui depuis cinq mois.” You know. There’s no way you haven’t gotten off in five months. 

You see him shake his head in your peripheral, distract himself with the task at hand the same way you had. This isn’t something the two of you talk about, and you talk about pretty much everything. Sex, though. It’s always been off-limits, especially in a situation like this, just the two of you together. “Non,” nope, he mutters. “Je souhaite,” I wish.

You roll your eyes. “Charles, regarde tes mains,” look at your hands, you say, and he does, all full of crumbs and salt and grease. “Voilà, voici la solution à ton problème. Tu peux le résoudre dès que je partirai,” there’s the solution to your problem. You can fix the issue as soon as I leave tonight.

He rolls his eyes right back, “idiote,” idiot, he says, shoves your shoulder with one of his hands and you laugh. “Je ne peux pas. C’est… je ne sais pas, c’est irrespectueux,” I can’t. It feels… I don’t know, it feels disrespectful.

You laugh, curl in on yourself at his comment because it feels so completely ridiculous. He’s a good guy, you know. You know, or you wouldn't be such good friends in the first place. You know, but that's a crazy concept even for a good guy. “Manque de respect envers ton ex-petite-amie si tu te branles après un séparer?” Disrespectful to your EX-girlfriend if you jerk off after you’ve broken up?

“Bien. Quand tu le dis comme ça,” well. When you say it like that.

“Ouis,” yeah, you chuckle, hoisting yourself up onto the counter you’d just cleared. The granite is cool even through the denim of your jeans. “Quand je dis ça comme ça, tu es un imbécile,” when I say it like that, you dumbass. 

“Pourtant,” Still though, he sighs, pinches the bridge of his nose. He always looks particularly boyish when he gets even the tiniest bit frustrated with you. “Tu ne comprendrais pas. Ça n'est pas pareil.” You wouldn’t get it. It’s not the same. 

Wouldn’t I? You pick at your cuticles, don’t know how to skate around the admission that you’re finishing about as often as he is—that Mr. Brit, who he’d missed by no more than ten minutes last weekend, was not exactly giving you a very eventful evening when he decided he was done for the night. 

"Je ne vois pas comment tu pourrais,” I don’t see how you could.

You nod, wish you lived in his little naive world where you always finish. “La moitié des gars de ce putain de pays ne savent pas comment faire jouir une fille. Et apparemment, les gars de Londres non plus.” Half the guys in this fucking country don’t know how to get a girl off. And apparently, neither do the guys in London.

“Vraiment?” Really?

You nod. “Je ne peux pas te dire combien de fois j'ai simulé parce que j'en avais marre que quelqu'un attaque ma lèvre gauche avec sa langue,” I can’t tell you the amount of times I’ve faked it because I was tired of someone assaulting my left lip with their tongue. 

“Fuck,” He laughs. “​​Ce n'est tout simplement pas bien,” that’s just not right.

“Non, ça ne l'est pas,” no it is not.

“Tu devrais vraiment obtenir de l'aide pour ça,” you should really get some help with that.

“Et toi aussie. Je mourrais avant de laisser tes conneries arriver.” So should you, you offer. I’d die before I let that shit happen. And you would, you really would. You can’t think of something worse than dating someone for months and knowing you’ve never gotten them off once. And she knows, she has to know, because there’s no way for him to fake it. She has to know. 

There’s a pause, and you realize that somewhere on the other side of the apartment the music has stopped playing. The speaker must have died—or the phone playing through it. You realize that Charles is close, now. Really close. Has he been this close the entire time you’ve been cleaning up, close. “Le feriez?” you would?

“Cent pour cent. Une bonne petite amie le ferait—en fait,” a hundred percent. A good girlfriend would—actually, you stop yourself, scowl a bit at the idea of it all. “Une bonne petite amie n’aurait jamais ce problème en premier lieu, mais ce n’est pas la question,” a good girlfriend would never have that problem in the first place but, that’s besides the point. He smiles, the threat of a laugh, and takes a step closer, firmly between your legs, now. You put your hands on either of his shoulders, give them a firm, friendly squeeze. “Une bonne petite amie t'aurait aidé,” a good girlfriend would have helped you, you assure him, but it doesn’t sound as friendly as your gesture was. 

His hand falls to your knee, thumb moving over the fabric of your jeans there ever so softly. It sends a chill up your spine, makes you shiver. “Un bon ami pourrait m'aider,” a good friend could help me, he says, hardly above a whisper—like he thinks saying it quieter is going to make it have any less suggestion. 

You nod, gulp, your fingers intertwining behind his neck. “Un bon ami pourrait vous aider,” a good friend could help you.

“Ouis,” yeah. You’re so close now that you can feel his breath on your face, that your noses might as well slot against each other. That you might as well be kissing, even if you aren’t. You’re sure your eyes cross when they meet his. 

“Dommage que tu n'en ai pas,” shame you don’t have any of those, you tease, smile pulling on your lips, hands falling from over his shoulders to move down his chest, to feel every reaction of his muscles as you trail over his abs softly, toy with the hem of his t-shirt. 

“C'est vrai, n'est-ce pas?” It is, isn’t it? His hand moves up your leg, and you instinctively move towards the touch, move yourself closer to the edge of the counter. He moves up, up your thigh, to your hip, threatening to go further. He doesn’t, though. He stalls there, searching your eyes for the permission to be there in the first place. 

And then, just like that, he kisses you. 

It starts soft, like he’s waiting for you to stop him, but you don’t. It’s a gentle collision, tender and hesitant and exploring whatever new waters you’d just sat yourselves in. His lips are so soft against yours, so careful, so sweet, and then his tongue is slipping through your lips, settling into the kiss now that he knows you’re going to kiss back. And you do, you kiss back, until it’s all hurried and messy, noses bumping against each other, teeth scraping each other’s lips. Until you’re hazy and dizzy and have to pull apart for air. 

“Peut être,” maybe, you chuckle into his mouth, kiss him again quickly. “Peut-être que tu devrais accepter l'offre de Hugo de trouver un tuteur,” maybe you should take Hugo up on his offer to find a tutor, you joke, and his smile is sweet against your lips. 

“Peut être,” maybe…  he says, fiddles with the buttons of your jeans hurriedly, like they’re going to seal shut if he doesn’t undo the button that very moment, and then he unzips the zipper, “ou peut-être,” or maybe… 

You kiss him again. Your core aches, the knot in the pit of your stomach pulling itself tighter and tiger with each millimeter further he moves. “Tu pourrais juste,” you could just. 

“Je pourrais juste,” I could just, and he dips a hand into your pants. 

You sigh, react instantly to his touch and his lips are on your again. Your hips move against his hand like it’s the first time you’ve ever been touched—which, this whole thing feels so charged that it might as well be. Charles’ hand moves in flat circles over your clit, pushing farther, deeper, slipping a single finger inside of you. 

You hiss at the movement, kiss him harder when your breath is back, pull him hard against your lips by the back of his neck. “Putain, tu es tellement mouillé,” Fuck, you’re so wet, he says. 

You nod, talk into his mouth, “Je sais, je sais,” I know, I know.

You reach between your bodies to palm him, find him already hard in his jeans, taking in a sharp breath when you touch him there. His other hand grabs at your tits, pushing and pulling and squeezing over your shirt before finally slipping under, haphazardly pushing your bra out of the way and palming them, kissing mumbled profanities into the skin on your neck. 

He pinches your nipple between two fingers and you whine—he ruts against the counter when you do, smirks against your lips and hums whatever noise he’s attempting to swallow. 

You sigh when he pulls his hand out from your jeans, but he’s quick to get them off of you, pulling them and your underwear off as soon as you raise yourself up off the counter. It’s cold, so cold, but his hands are equally warm, burn against your body as he explores every inch of available skin. 

You work away at his jeans, pushing down his pants and underwear as far as the angle allows you to. His cock springs out of the elastic waistband and the only thing you can think is how pretty it looks, all swollen and twitching and wet with precum. It looks painful, almost, how hard he is. But so, so pretty. “C'est tellement chaud,” this is so hot, you say. 

“Tu es tellement belle,” you’re so hot, he replies. 

You’re expecting for it to all boil over, then, for him to sink into you, fill you up with his perfect pretty dick, but he doesn’t. Instead, he lowers himself to your cunt and looks at you with nauseating eye contact. “Dis moi quoi faire,” tell me what to do, he says. 

“Quoi que ce soit. Faire n'importe quoi,” Anything. Do anything, you beg. 

He does, he does—licks a long stripe through your folds, forces your head to the sky and a sweet moan from your lips. He holds your legs apart with a hand on the inside of each thigh—strong, warm, big—and fucks you with his tongue. It’s messy and natural, but every move is intentional, working towards the goal of getting you off before he even fucks you. And he will, he will, because he listens so well. 

Every direction, even the jumbled, incoherent moans that leave your mouth, even the little twitches of your legs or the way your hips move against his mouth—it's all an instruction for him. What to do. What to continue doing exactly like he’s doing. “Juste comme ça. N'arrêtez pas,” just like that. Don’t stop, you chant, and he doesn’t stop. He holds his pace, and then you’re coming in his mouth, fingers slipping on the countertop in search of some kind of grip, some kind of stability as you writhe against him.

 When you’ve come down, come back to reality and the cold countertop and his warm hands, he’s kissing you again, cock hard and twitching between your bodies. You take him in your hand and he winces, groans when you start to stroke him, to spread the precum around his tip with your thumb. “Ça fait du bien,” feels good, he mutters. 

“Laisse-moi t'aider,” Let me help you, you insist. He doesn’t need much convincing. None at all, really. 

“Est-tu toujours... sur le?” Are you still… on the, he asks, tapping your arm. 

“Mon implant? Ouais, ouais,”My implant? Yeah. yeah. 

He kisses you again, licks into your mouth in a way that feels half-illegal, like all the rules of the universe have been broken. “Tu veux que j'utilise un préservatif?” Do you want me to use a condom?

You shake your head against his lips, shrug somewhere in the distance, far away from where your mouth is on his. “Je m'en fiche, je suis propre,” I don’t care, I’m clean.

“Moi aussi,” Me too. 

"D'accord, d'accord. Putain," Okay, okay. Fuck, and then he's slapping the head of his cock against your pussy, making you quiver with every touch. He drags it over your clit, through your folds, and then he’s sinking into you. His fingers bruise into your hips as he ruts into you, you reaching down to circle you clit while he fucks you full of him. "Putain, Dieu," Fuck, God, he moans. 

“Oui c'est bien?” Yeah, it's good? You ask. 

“C'est tellement bon, putain, c'est tellement bon, tu es si sexy,” It’s so good, fuck—it’s so good, you’re so hot. You don’t know if its his words, or that the seal’s properly broken now, but right as his dick slips out of a particularly measured thrust, you’re coming around the air, shoving a finger back inside to ease the ache of emptiness, pulling it back out and guiding his cock back in. He fucks you so good. So hard. So deep, just the sounds of each others groans, of heavy sighs and skin slapping filling the room, bouncing off the walls. “Je suis près,” I’m close, he tells you. “Je suis si proche, putain. Je vais,” I’m so close, fuck. I’m gonna, he repeats, fucking into you hard. Hard, burying himself in your cunt longer and longer each time. 

“Fais-le,” Do it, you say, “laisse-moi l'avoir, je le veux,” let me have it, I want it. And then he’s coming. Hard. Bottomed out in you, groaning against your neck, and filling you up with him. Fuck, he breathes. You can’t make a distinction between a sigh versus a laugh. “Ça va?”Are you okay? He asks. 

Your breath is heavy, heart thumping in your chest, in your ears, in your toes. “Je suis,”  I’m, you laugh. “Ouais, je suis plus que… je vais bien,” Yeah, I’m more than… I’m okay, you finally sputter out into his patient eyes. You think that’s the reason you stutter—the eye contact. “Es-tu?” Are you?

“Ouais,” Yeah, he says, running a hand through his hair, nodding.  “Oui. Très bien.” Yes. Very okay.

“Bien,” Good, you nod, and then, with all the vulnerability in the world: “Étais-je bien?” Was I alright?

He smiles, moves his hand to brush your flyaways from your forehead, to stop them before they can get in your face. “Tu étais…” You were… he laughs, and there’s no mistaking it now. When he does it, you’re reminded just how full of him you still are, of the ache you’ll feel when he finally pulls out. “Je ne pense pas que quiconque puisse avoir un problème avec toi,” I don’t think anyone could have any issue with you. 

“Oh,”, you chuckle, eyes locking onto the clock hung on the kitchen wall. You can hear the second hand clicking around the same way you can hear your own pulse. “Bon alors,” Good then.

“Et moi?” And me? He asks, and pulls out slowly before you can begin to answer. There’s a silence in the room, just the clock and your heart and your breathing, his eyes glued to your cunt like he’s admiring his handy work. “C'étaient…” Those were…

“Tous deux très réels,” Both very real, you nod, biting the inside of your cheek, catching his eyes when he leans over the sink, wetting a paper towel and ringing it out. “Je ne suis pas doué pour faire semblant,” I’m not that good at faking it. 

“Bon,” Nice.

“Je ne pense pas que nous soyons le problème, alors,” I don’t think we’re the problem, then, you chuckle, eyes snapping back to the clock, mind to the feel of the counter under your fingertips. You can’t think about anything more, of any other feeling or sense of taste or smell you’re experiencing or it will be too much. 

“Non je ne pense pas,” No, I don’t think so, he continues, and starts to clean you up, warm hands on your legs again while he runs the cool paper towel through your folds. You recoil at the cold, a shiver running up your entire body and his eyes jump to yours—”Désolé,” Sorry, he mumbles. 

“C'est bon,” It’s okay, you squeak, and it sounds like you’re about an inch tall. Utter mortification will do that to you, something this fucking awkward making you incredibly aware of everything happening in the room around you, of every touch of his warm hands on your skin. A lot of things are different now. Everything is different. 

“Je, euh. Putain,” I, uh. Fuck, you resort back to what you know best, to the only thing you can think about that doesn’t spiral back to the feeling of him finishing inside you. “Je n'arrive pas à croire que je doive nettoyer à nouveau ce comptoir,” I can't believe I have to clean this counter off again. 

He laughs again, tossing the paper towel into the trash can. It sits on top of everything else like a billboard, screaming about what it had been used for. The lid on the trash can doesn’t close like it’s supposed to. “C'est à ça que tu penses en ce moment?” That’s what you’re thinking about right now?

“Ouais,” Yeah.

“Tu es tellement bizarre, putain,” You’re so fucking weird, he says, adjusting himself, tucking back into his boxers, pulling them and his jeans up to make himself proper again. You have to hop off the counter to do the same, collecting and correcting your things as fast as you can because you can feel his eyes on your figure while you dress, and it feels too intimate. 

“Je ne suis pas bizarre,” I am not weird, you quip, buttoning your jeans and pulling up the zipper, carefully fixing your shirt, your bra, smoothing all of your clothes out over your skin. 

“Tu es. Tu es tellement bizarre.” You are. You’re so weird. 

“Peu importe,” Whatever, you mumble, quickly closing the lid to the trash can. 

The night has run its course by now, and then some. You spend fifteen minutes silently moving around each other in the kitchen, the whole room quiet enough to hear a pin drop in the downstairs lobby. You spend at least ten of them cleaning off the counter, which doesn’t feel so cold anymore, at least not where you were sitting. 

“Tu peux rester, tu sais…” You can stay, y’know… he finally breaks the silence. “Si tu veux.”  If you want.

“D’accord,” Okay, you nod. “Je ne… je ne sais pas si c’est une bonne idée.” I don’t… I don’t know if that’s a good idea.

“C'est vrai, ouais,” Right, yeah, he says, and the place threatens to fall back into negative decibel levels. “Je t'entends, tout ce que tu veux.” I hear you, whatever you want. 

“Désolée,” Sorry, you choke.

“Ne le soit pas, vraiment,” Don’t be, really, he assures, but you still are, still feel like you're stepping on a little baby bug that’s on its way home to its family. It’s not that you don’t want to stay, it’s more that you… you don’t trust yourself to stay, and you don’t trust him not to turn this into a messy rebound thing. If you slept in his bed tonight and got a text next weekend that he’d gotten back together with his girlfriend, you’d feel like a piece of shit. It’s bad enough that when they do inevitably reconnect, you’re already never going to be able to look her in the eyes again. 

“Tu m'enverras un texto quand tu rentreras à la maison?” You’ll text me when you get home? He asks, standing opposite you in his doorway. 

“Bien sûr,” Of course, you nod, fidgeting with the keys on your lanyard. “Nous n’avons pas simplement ruiné notre amitié, n’est-ce pas?” We didn’t just ruin our friendship, did we?

“Non,” he answers, without leaving space for a hesitation, to really wonder about your question. 

You smile at your keys, bite back a chuckle at just how quick he’d responded to you, about how sure he seemed. “Parce que tu es une de mes personnes préférées, tu sais,” Because you’re one of my favorite people, y’know.

“Tu es ma personne préférée,” You’re my favorite person.

You swallow, and when you look up from your keys, he’s staring right back at you. The comfort in the silence is palpable, and it makes you shy, pushes a nervous laugh from your lips. Charles just nods, certain in his choice of words. It makes you even more sheepish. 

You’re completely aware that he doesn’t look at everyone like this, that he never looked at her like this. “Que s'est-il passé entre toi et elle cette fois, d'ailleurs?” What happened with you and her this time, anyway?

He sighs. “Tu veux vraiment savoir?” You really want to know?

“Ouais,” Yeah, you nod. “Je fais,” I do.

“Je euh,” I uh, his fingers fidget with each other, pulling on the joints and twisting his rings. He doesn’t look at you when he tells you, watches the metal spin around his finger. “Je suis rentré de chez toi le week-end dernier et elle attendait dehors que je la laisse entrer. J'ai complètement oublié qu'elle venait après le travail.” I came home from your place last weekend and she was waiting outside for me to let her in. I totally forgot she was coming over after work. You regret asking as soon as he starts explaining. It’s not your business, and you could have gone your whole life without knowing that you were the catalyst for it. “On s'est disputé, elle m'a dit de choisir qui était le plus important,” We got into a fight, she told me to choose who was more important, he shrugs, like it’s nothing. Like he was being asked to flip a coin, asked what color the sky was. “Je te choisi,” I chose you.

“Charles,” your head falls to the side defeatedly. You wish he never told you this, even though you asked. You wish he knew better, that you knew better.

“Je sais,” I know, he nods, and it sounds like he feels genuinely bad about the truth.  “Je suis désolé,” I’m sorry. 

“Je devrais y aller,” I should go.

“Ouais…” Yeah… he hesitates, his hand lingering around his front door, refusing to close it on you. “Ouais,” yeah.

“Juste... ne le fais pas,” Just… don’t. You stop yourself—or you try to stop yourself—from speaking. It’s unsuccessful, how could it not be when he’s staring at you intently with those big green eyes, clinging to every word that leaves your lips. “Ne te remets pas avec elle S'il te plaît,”  Don’t get back with her. Please.

“Je ne vais pas,” I won’t.

You nod, even though you know he will. He always does. They always get back together. It’s nice to pretend, though, for a few days. To pretend that anything is ever going to come of what’s happened this evening. 

“Bonne nuit, Charles,” Goodnight..

“Bonne nuit.” Goodnight.

[gredandforgeweatherby]

A Shared Joint

Theo Nott x reader

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, weed consumption, swearing, making out, brooding?reader (it’ll make sense), Google translated Italian

A/N: Italian!Theo always‼️(accent🤩) ((this man is so hot)), not specified what house you are in.

The Slytherin common room was packed to the brim, mostly with slytherin and ravenclaws, though you could spot some Hufflepuffs and the occasion Gryffindor. The lights were low, music blaring through the speakers as students danced, drank, and talked all around you. Every corner of the room seemed to have a couple making out and groping each other, and smoke from cigarettes and joints hung low in the air.

You didn’t want to be at this party. You would’ve much preferred drinking with your friends in one of your dorms as you normally would. Instead your best friend wanted to come to slytherin’s party that night, and you didn’t want her to go alone. So that’s how you found yourself where you were now; sat on the large couch in the center or the room, one arm propped on the arm of the couch, your head resting upon it with an uninterested look etched on your face.

You watched as your friend danced with some kid in your year, both clearly intoxicated. You had taken a couple of shots and had currently been nursing a drink for the last hour and were entirely too sober for this. The room was hot, the amount of people only exasperating that, the pounding in your head had begun to match the pounding of the music, and you were tired. You wanted to leave, but you knew your friend didn’t. She was having the time of her life dancing with… Berkshire? You weren’t sure. All you know was that she had a smile on her face, so you were more than willing to wait out this boring party for her.

It was only a few minutes later, though it felt like another hour had passed, when you felt the couch dip next to you. Your curiosity getting the better of you, you turn your head to the side to be met with Theodore Nott’s profile. He was staring ahead, his eyes low and his mouth straight as usual. He held a drink in one of his hands, and as he leaned his head on the back of the couch, you spotted a joint resting behind his ear. He was dressed as he always was: smart pants paired with a (probably) expensive button up, the first few buttons undone.

You turned your attention back in front of you, your gaze searching for your friend. She was still dancing with the same kid, though now with considerably more groping and tension. At least one of us is enjoying ourselves, you thought. Surveying the room, it seemed the only two people not on their feet were you and Nott, which made you feel a bit out of place. You weren’t able to linger on that feeling for long though.

“At least I know I’m not the only one who’d rather be anywhere else.” Theo broke the silence between you two. His accent made it a bit harder to understand him under the loud music, but you surpassingly managed.

You turned your head to your right, making eye contact as his head was already tilted toward you. You had to admit, Theodore Nott was attractive. More than that, he was hot. His eyes bore into yours, his stare making you feel as if he seeing straight into your soul.

Breaking eye contact, you huffed out a chuckle.

“I’m only here because my friend wanted to come.”

“Ah,” a half smile-half smirk crossed his face, “being a good friend and not leaving her to come on her own I assume?”

You nodded in response.

He turned his head back straight, breathing out a barely audible sigh.

“Only here ‘cause it’s your common room I assume? Can’t really escape these idiots can you?” You turned back to him to once again be met with the side of his face. He didn’t respond right away, which made you think he was ignoring you, before he sighed.

“My friends like to throw these parties. I find it fucking annoying to have to clean up after everyone the next morning. Too much work sai?”

You nodded. “Thats understandable. Merlin knows I wouldn’t want to do that shit.”

Theo chuckled. “That’s exactly what I’m saying bella.”

You raised your eyebrows in response and turned back towards the crowd. Out of your peripheral vision you could see Theo reach behind his ear for the joint. He rolled it in between his fingers for a few seconds before standing. He walked a bit, before stopping a step or two past the arm of the couch and turns his body towards you.

“Would you like to join?”

──────────────────────

Theo guided you out of the common room up a set of stairs out of the dungeons. The two of you were currently at one of the open windows of the castle, you sitting on the ledge and Theo leaning against it. He pulled a lighter from his pocket before handing you the joint.

“Ladies first of course.” He stated, that half smile-half smirk from earlier making another appearance. You huffed out a laugh and took the joint from his fingers, setting it between your lips, as he lit it for you.

You and Theo passed the joint between the two of you in a comfortable silence. For not having too much interaction with him all these years, it wasn’t awkward like one would have thought. This silence that lingered allowed you to observe Theo when he wasn’t paying attention. You had already admitted to yourself he was hot, everyone knew that, but you have never really seen that for yourself. Now, with a nice high, you were finally seeing for yourself that Theodore Nott was hot. Really hot. He took another hit off the joint before looking back to you, luckily giving you enough time to make it seem like you hadn’t been staring.

Theo offered you the joint and you took it, directing your glance upward as you rest your head against the wall, zoning out a bit. While you weren’t paying attention, he took it as a chance to do the same you have been doing seconds prior, unbeknownst to you. He had always thought you were attractive, he had seen you throughout all your years here. Seeing you tonight by yourself looking like you’d rather die than be at that party gave him the perfect opportunity to actually talk to you. He didn’t necessarily fancy you, you were someone who caught his eye several times, but he could definitely see that changing.

You finally zoned back in and could feel Theo’s eyes on you.

“You’re staring.”

He only breathed a small chuckle. “Am I?”

You locked eyes with him. “Yes.”

Theo kept your eye contact, not seeming embarrassed he was caught staring. Pushing off his arms that were on the ledge of the window, he turned his body to face you.

“What a shame,” his gaze flitted downward before meeting your eyes again. “una bella ragazza mi ha sorpreso a fissarlo.”

Though you weren’t quite sure what he said, you had to admit it was hot when he spoke in Italian. With his gaze still meeting yours, he moved again, this time shifting between your legs. Unconsciously, you opened them a bit wider for him. His hand ghosted over your thigh, a feather light touch almost sending shivers down your spine.

“You shouldn’t stare. It is rude after all.” You replied lamely after realizing you hadn’t responded yet. One side of his mouth tilts up in a half smile.

“Scusa.” He muttered, rolling his lips in to wet them. “Didn’t mean to be rude.” He moved his hand up a bit further, making sure you were still okay with the contact.

“If staring at you is rude would kissing you be rude too?” He asked, his eyes boring into your own.

Instead of responding verbally, you moved to put one of your hands on his face, and leaning in to kiss him.

He responded immediately, kissing you back with fervor. The hand on your thigh moved up even further while his other went to your jaw. You moved your other hand through his hair, lightly tugging on the roots. Theo released a light moan in response, his mouth opening enough for your tongue to slip inside. You scooted closer to him, most of your body hanging off the ledge of the window. Theo moved his hand up under your dress as his hand on your jaw pulled you closer. The two of you were breathing heavy, the kiss igniting a hunger for the other neither of you realized you had. The two of you continued to kiss until a distant bang caught your attention. Jumping away from him, you realized the bang came from the dungeons, and that someone had come out of the common room. Theo tired to chase your lips, using the hand on your jaw to try and pull you back to him when you heard someone quietly call your name.

“Shit,” you sighed. The only person at the party that would’ve been looking for you was your best friend, you could tell it was her the closer she got to you and Theo.

Theo lowered his hand from your jaw, letting it fall to your waist before moving away so you could get down.

“I guess you have to go.” He asked, though they way he said it made it seem like a statement.

“If she’s looking for me it probably means she’s ready to go, so.”

You finally got off the window ledge, Theo’s hands on your waist as you did. Before going back down to the dungeon, you turned to him. One hand on the back of his neck, you drew him into a quick kiss.

“We should continue tho sometime.” You mumbled against his lips.

“Anytime you want.” He nodded.

You gave him a small smile before slipping your hand off your next and bidding him goodbye.

“Ciao bella.” He called to you before you were out of earshot.

You turned back around, winking at him before disappearing down the stairs.

─────────────────────

I’m thinking of making a smutty part 2, so let me know if you would like that. Enjoy xx!

[bibbityboppitybillyharvgrove]

Embarrassment - T.Nott

Summary - Because they stayed at Hogwarts this year, the Slytherin gang and their significant others spend time together in the common room as they exchange gifts and enjoy each other’s company. However, the two Italian speakers in the group quickly find out that they aren’t the only ones in the building.

Word Count - 920

Warnings - Italian Speaking!Reader, female reader, use of Y/N, swearing, Snape makes an appearance, Italian sentences but they all have the translation, not proofread

Author’s Note - Day Eighteen! One more week left! My Italian is very rusty so I did use Google translate for most of the sentences. I haven’t used Italian in a long time so I thought it was time to dust off and get back to using it. I hope you enjoy!

my masterlist

25 days of fics masterlist

Feedback is welcomed and encouraged!

Enjoy!

not my gif

It was officially Christmas at Hogwarts, the Scottish Highlands coated with a blanket of white snow as more fell from the clouds above. It was a picture perfect Christmas morning, the Slytherin gang all getting up and meeting in the great hall for breakfast first before they started their gift exchanges. Theo’s girlfriend, Y/N, had been the last to join them at breakfast, rubbing sleep from her eyes as she sat down beside the aforementioned boy. 

“Buongiorno amore, come hai dormito?” Theo greeted his girlfriend in Italian. (Good morning love, how did you sleep?)

“Buongiorno tesoro, bene, tu?” She yawned as she leaned into his side. (Good morning treasure/darling, good, you?)

“Enough Italian you two, we would like to understand you too you know?” Pansy teased the couple, earning a flip of a certain finger on his hand.

“Bene. Mangi(you eat) amore. Happy Christmas,” The boy whispered to his girlfriend before planting a kiss on her forehead.

“Happy Christmas, Theo.” She kissed his cheek before eating her breakfast consisting of pancakes and eggs. As the ending of breakfast came, the group made their way back to the common room where they agreed to exchange their gifts. They gave their friends gifts first before significant others, Y/N running up to her dorm to get Theo’s gift. As she came back down to the common room with a wide grin, she held out the gift for him. “Per il mio principe,”(For my prince) She smiled, pecking his lips as he grabbed it from her.

“Grazie principessa,”(Thank you princess) He thanked her before tearing the gift open. She had gifted him a watch that he had been eyeing up the last time they went to Hogsmede together. “I love it, grazie bellissima." He kissed her gently before hugging her tightly. As they pulled away from the hug, he handed her his gift.

She tore it open to reveal not only a gorgeous golden necklace with a diamond encrusted crescent moon but also a photo of them on their first date that someone had sneakily taken. “Chi ha scattato la foto? Lo adoro, Theo! Grazie, grazie, grazie!” (Who took the photo? I love it, Theo! Thank you, thank you, thank you!) She asked her boyfriend as she threw her arms around his neck to pull him into a loving embrace.

“Draco preso(took it). Sono felice che ti piaccia, amore(I’m glad you like it, love),” Theo replied before connecting their lips again. They only pulled away because their friends were fake gagging.

“I heard my name and I would like to know why,” Draco insisted.

“The picture, Dray, thank you for taking it,” Y/N assured the boy before letting go of her boyfriend to hug her friend. 

“In that case, you’re welcome, I’m glad I was able to take it without you noticing.” She giggled as she kissed both his cheeks in thanks once again. She made her way back to her boyfriend as they began to chat in Italian.

Much to their friends’ dismay, they continued to speak Italian back and forth. Their friends had given up telling them to try and speak English so they could all talk together. Pansy found it sweet that her best friend had found a guy with the same native language as her and a guy that treated her well. Blaise on the other hand was practically sick because Theo was constantly talking about his girlfriend when they weren’t together. Deep down he loved seeing his friend so happy but he would rather be mad at Theo for his constant rambling. 

The couple had switched back to English as they were readying themselves to talk with the whole group rather than just each other. They got teased by their friends for the switch but it was all in good fun. The rest of the day was spent with their friends, joking and fooling around, playing some games and exchanging embarrassing stories about each other. The Slytherin common room might have been nearly vacant but it was more lively than ever as the friends mucked about. They had only quieted down after Snape had stormed in to tell them that some of their housemates had complained about their volume.

“Cazzo in culo(cock up your ass)!” Y/N swore, causing Theo to burst out into laughter.

“Posso parlare anche italiano(I also speak Italian), Miss Y/L/N. Detention for a week once the term begins, same for you Mr. Nott. Happy Christmas,” Snape spoke before exiting the common room. 

“What did you say to piss him off?” Draco asked with a chuckle.

“Cock up your ass,” Y/N muttered.

“What was that?” Pansy asked, not hearing her friend.

“Cock up your ass. I didn’t know he spoke Italian! Sono così imbarazzato(I’m so embarrassed), Teddy!” She whined to her boyfriend.

“I know you’re embarrassed, principessa, but you should probably watch your mouth around professors. I do have to say that was the funniest thing I have ever witnessed in my life,” Theo teased her. She let out a groan as she hid her face in his warm chest, their friends laughing along with him in agreement. Y/N joining in sooner rather than later, the embarrassment going away quickly.

Although their Christmas was spent at Hogwarts away from family, the Slytherin gang had enjoyed spending it with each other. Having fun with no responsibilities for a couple weeks and having nearly the whole Slytherin common room and dorms to themselves. It was the best Christmas any of them had ever had.

[rjalker]

apparently a bunch more people are coming to the Flatland fandom / tags because of gravity falls so PSA:

Flatland: A Romance of Many Dimensions, is public domain. It belongs to everyone. You do not need to buy a physical copy to read it. It has no copyright. It belongs to everyone.

It is free to read online. There are free audiobooks.

Here's another masterpost

Here's a link to it on Project Gutenberg where you can read and download it in many formats:

Here's an amazing free audiobook on the internet archive:

Here's where you can read the 2024 translation into modern English on the internet archive:

there are some typos that I need to fix but. I have covid I'm not doing that right now.

You can also read this translation here on tumblr at @flatland-a-2024-translation

There's an audiobook version on youtube as well now.

___

Here’s an animation from 1965

Here’s a stop motion film from 1982 in Italian with English subtitles

Here’s an animation from 2006

___

I do not recommend watching the free 2007 Flatland film which you can find on youtube until you've read or listened to the book unless you want to be really confused. The movie is an absurdist comedy. The book is a political satire. The movie is better appreciated after you've already read/listened to the book.

It also has a lot of flashing lights and motion-sickness inducing spinning. The timestamps for those can be found here. Please be careful if you have photosensitivity.

do not spend money on Flatland until you already know you like it. you do not need to spend money at all. It's public domain. it belongs to all of us.

Very important edit: The creator of the 2007 film that's free on youtube, Ladd Ehlinger is an extremely racist and misogynistic conservative. He made a political ad so blatantly racist and sexist that youtube has literally resstricted it, so that you can't share the link outside the site. Simply google his name and you will see dozens upon dozens of articles about how bigoted he is.,

Please be aware of what kind of person made that movie when you watch it. His bigotry is baked into the movie, and is why he refused to actually do anything with the original political commentary from the book.

You are not a bad person if you already watched the movie and enjoyed it, but you do need to be aware of what kind of person made it and how that affected the movie, and make sure others are warned.

[crimsntwlip]

foolish. | theodore nott x fem!reader

pairing: ex!theodore x fem!reader

warnings: cursing, angst, mentions of alcohol, mentions of blood, bandleader!theo, ex!theo, jealous!theo, protective!theo, readers status not mentioned, reader is a ravenclaw, google translated italian 😭

summary: Theodore, your ex after a 16 month relationship, is performing at a slytherin party. you attend this party, wanting to go out and finally enjoy yourself, but end up cleaning his wounds

a/n: inspired by this tiktok :> posted: 11/25/23 | masterlist

in the aftermath of the recent events, you were left heartbroken. it had been a 16 months into what you had thought was a happy relationship, and theodore’s sudden decision to end things without any reasons only added to your confusion.

along with the overwhelming emotions of sadness and anger, you found yourself in bed for days on end, consumed by thoughts of what could have caused everything to unravel.

the fear of encountering him only kept you holed up in your dormitory, leading you to skip meals and isolate yourself from everyone. your friend’s patience had run out, despite their affection for you, they couldnt stand watching you suffer in bed because of the certain slytherin any longer.

there was a party coming up in slytherins common room, which you immediately turn down the invitation, knowing theodore would be there performing with his bandmates. “cmon (y/n)! it’ll be fun plus you can use this opportunity to get your mind off of him!” your friend begged in a heartfelt plea.

you only groan, annoyance rising up slowly as you had been denying their offer all day. “god! fine fine ill fucking go!” you blurt out. your friend squeal, wrapping their arms around you as they squeeze you. “okay enough.. i already said im going! dont make me regret it,” you uttered under your friend. they immediately pull away. “you better keep your word!” they declare.

as the days passed and the party approached, you found yourself slipping back into your old habits. the routine of attending classes and meals became second nature once again, but there was one thing you made a conscious effort to avoid - nott. despite your efforts, you couldn't help but notice your other house mates whispering about how he would often stare at you from across the room. however, you continue to pay no attention towards him.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

"are you sure i look hot?" (y/n) inquired, looking in the mirror at the fitted cute black dress that hugged her body. (y/n) made a point of going all out tonight, she didn't want to appear miserable in the eyes of others now that she wasn't with theodore anymore.

your friend assures you, "babes. you are the most hottest person i know." you laugh, finishing up by teasing the roots of your hair for more volume and fixing your makeup, adding a soft red lipstick.

as the two of you turn to face each other, your friend gives you a smug look while you roll your eyes playfully at them. without a word, you both intertwine arms and make your way out of the ravenclaw common room, heading towards the intimidating atmosphere of the slytherin domain.

as you step inside the slytherin common room, the scent of alcohol greets you, along with a racket of voices and music. the noise surrounds you, enveloping your senses as you navigate through the crowd.

theodore and his bandmates—draco, mattheo, blaise, and pansy—were standing right across the room. he was simply taking a break after spending the entire night playing. he eased his messy hair out of his way and looked around the room while removing his guitar strap and gently placing the instrument down. merely wishing that you had made it.

he struggled to understand his own reasoning for ending things with you. yet, he could not bring himself to confront the truth. despite this, he deeply longed for your presence and the intimate moments shared between you. he had noticed that you were avoiding him, which he totally understood. he thought that breaking up with you was a foolish and regretful decision, and he felt like a total asshole for doing so.

his eyes landed on you. his eyes widening a bit in surprised that you had actually came. he scanned your figure, noticing that you were wearing his favorite dress of yours. there was a reason it was his favorite, his eyes scanning your curves and slowly went up towards your face. observing your light makeup and the red lipstick you loved to wear, he thought about how beautiful you looked to tonight.

he longed to reach out to you, to hold you close and shield you from the unwanted attention of those around you. but he knew he couldn't, for you were no longer his, a fact that tore at his heart. he could only clench his jaw in frustration and avert his gaze, unable to do anything.

upon your arrival at the event, you were dismayed to discover that your friend had already been discreetly ushered away from your side. a sense of isolation and regret washed over you as you watched her being dragged away by friends from different houses. with a heavy sigh, you made your way to the designated drink area, already questioning your decision of attending.

after grabbing a red, empty cup and filling it with spiked punch, you turn around and stand there looking around the room and taking in the view while sipping from your cup.

“hey hottie.” startled by an unfamiliar voice, you turn to your right and come face to face with cormac mclaggen - the persistent gryffindor who had been trying to woo you despite your relationship. his confident smirk is met with your nonchalant demeanor “heard you’re finally a free woman.” you roll your eyes, unimpressed, “piss off.” you state calmly before taking another sip and avert your gaze.

when theodore's eyes found you again, he saw mclaggen standing beside you. theodore couldn't help but feel uneasy as his gaze suddenly focused on the two of you. he knew too well that mclaggen had an unhealthy obsession with you and a reputation for being possessive. his eyebrows furrowed in slow anger, he watched the scene unfold with his jaw tightening involuntarily. theodore could sense that mclaggen had gone too far, and his tolerance was beginning to wear thin.

“oh come on sweetheart," he pleaded desperately, his hands gripping your waist tightly in a futile attempt to draw you closer to him. but you pushed him away, determined to break free from his grasp.

"fucking let go of me," you demanded, feeling disgusted by his touch. ignoring your command, he continued to hold onto you with a stubborn determination. "i don't think i wi—" his words were abruptly cut off as a punch landed square on his jaw, causing him to stumble backwards.

you stepped back in shock as your ex and mclaggen engaged in an intense physical fight, drawing the attention of others who gathered around them with murmurs and shouts.

as you stood there, trembling with fear and desperation, you mustered up all your strength to firmly grasp onto theo's arm and try to pry him away from the situation. your voice quivered as you exclaimed "theo, that's enough!"

but it was only when he felt your touch pulling him back that he finally stopped his aggressive actions. he made sure not to hurt you as he spat out angry Italian words towards the boy in front of him.

with a fierce glare, theodore warned the boy “se la tocchi ancora, cazzo, sei morto.” you quickly dragged him through the crowd, navigating through throngs of people until you reached the familiar staircase leading up to his dorm room.

despite his initial resistance, theo let himself be pulled along by your firm grip on his arm. once inside his room, he collapsed onto his bed in frustration and anger.

despite only sighing, you continue to search through his drawers in silence. after months had passed, you still remembered where you had left the small medkit and quickly retrieved it from its hiding spot. slamming it down on top of the drawer, your eyes begin to water as you gather supplies to clean off the blood from wounds.

theodore watched you silently, guilt piling up already within him. it was a surreal moment for you, helping your ex-boyfriend who had ended things between the two of you. turning around with watery eyes, you meet his gaze which softens upon seeing your tears.

you maintain your silence and proceed to gently wipe away the blood from his wounded face with the cloth. he watches you closely, visibly swallowing as he does so. "i'm sor-" he begins to say, but you quickly interrupt him, your voice shaking as you try to hold back tears. "don't you even dare apologize," your voice shakes with emotion as you struggle to hold back tears that threaten to spill over.

"(y/n)," he whispered, the sound of your name slipping from his lips causing you to feel a wave of emotions. tears began to flow down your cheeks as you gazed at him, meeting his gaze with a mixture of hurt and relief. without hesitation, he pulled you close to him on his bed, wrapping an arm around your waist. his heart ached, seeing how much pain he caused you. in between sobs, you heard him whispering apologies, begging for your forgiveness.

"fuck (y/n), i am so sorry. i know i messed up by breaking up with you. I can't even believe how stupid I was to let you go in the first place. please forgive me." his words were filled with remorse and regret as he held onto you tightly.

you bit your bottom lip, feeling it tremble as you buried your face into the boy's chest. with a heavy heart, you shook your head in disbelief. "no," you whimpered, the sound muffled against his shirt.

a deep ache settled in your chest as you mustered the courage to speak up. "you don't get to do this," you exclaimed, your voice quivering with emotion. you poked his chest for emphasis as you continued, "you can't just randomly break up with me and expect me to come running back to you like nothing happened!"

it was unfair. it was unjustified. and most of all, it hurt.

"you didn't even seem to have a reason to," you pried, pulling away from his embrace. but he wouldn't let go, his arm tightening around you possessively.

"i know i messed up," he whispered apologetically, his tone pleading for forgiveness. "i.. i was just being a coward. i should have gone talk to you but i didnt. and i regretted it everyday. but i promise i’ll make it right again”

your heart wavered at his words, torn between holding onto your anger and giving him another chance. you knew deep down that he still held a special place in your heart despite everything that had transpired between the two of you.

but could you really trust him again? could you risk getting hurt once more?

with a heavy sigh, you pushed away from him and looked into his eyes earnestly. "i-i don’t know," you spoke firmly yet gently. "i don’t want to end up getting hurt again," you trailed off, your voice vulnerable and hesitant. you couldn't bear the thought of going through the same pain and heartache that had left you broken before.

"and I promise you, you won't," he pleaded earnestly, his tone gentle yet determined. he could see the fear in your eyes and it pained him to know that someone had caused such deep scars on your heart."not ever again," he reassured, reaching out to gently rub your arm in a soothing gesture.

you raised your gaze to meet his, lifting your head from his chest with an unspoken question in your eyes. searching his features for any hints of hesitation or uncertainty, you couldn't help but nervously bite your lip - a small mannerism that always surfaced when you were anxious.

sensing your unease, he tenderly reached up and brushed away the tears and streaks of mascara that stained your cheeks. the gentle touch of his hand on your face caused you to lean into it, realizing in that moment just how much you had missed the intimate contact between you and him.

after a long moment of hesitation, you let out a resigned sigh and surrendered yourself to him, sinking into his embrace and resting your head on his chest. with a heavy heart, you whispered the words

"one chance" as your thoughts raced and your emotions battled within. yet, despite everything, you found the strength to give him one more opportunity to prove himself.

your voice was soft but resolute as you spoke, feeling his tense body relax as he heard your words. he pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, expressing his gratitude for this chance. "thank you amore," he said sincerely.

"i missed you so fucking much." he announced. you only planted soft kisses on his cheek, uttering, "i missed you even more, Teddy..please don't act foolishly next time." he only grinned at your remark, nodding as he grabbed your chin, staring at your eyes, glancing at your lips as he hesitated, and you nod gently, giving him permission to pull you into a passionate soft kiss.

[libraryofloveletters]

With Sweet Comes Sour

Charles Leclerc x Fem!Reader 

Warnings: charles just wanted a peaceful valentines, so much drama and so many emotions, lots of tears, assumption of cheating (no actual cheating), weird ass exes, all the kids are in here, a few insulting terms, alcohol and the consumption of, being drunk, slight explicit content, bar brawls, blood and bruises, google translated french.

Word Count: 3.6k

Author’s Note: okay here's another piece to the series, sorry it took me forever to get this out but I didn't have any ideas until now lol. happy early valentines!

Daddy & Me + Three Masterlist 

--

The rollers stacked on her vanity as you undo the curls in her hair. Eloise was doing the final touches on her makeup as it was her first Valentines with her boyfriend, Anthony. They're going for the full cliché; movie and dinner and a stroll by the pier when they are done.

This is the first Valentine in 17 years that you and your husband have the house to yourselves. You were going to make the most of it, spending some quality alone time without your children pestering you.

You leave her to finish getting ready before going down to check on your husband. You hear the doorbell ring, and you figure it was Anthony here to pick her up so you let the boy in. Eloise comes downstairs in the meantime and you could hear her speaking to her father.

"How do I look?" She asks him; her baby pink dress sat above her knees.

The man smiles, twirling a curl that sat on her shoulder. "Très belle, ma chérie." (very beautiful, my darling.) You smiled as you watched the interaction, Anthony steps past you towards his girlfriend. He had brought her chocolates and flowers.

She kisses his cheek; young love.

He had another bouquet of flowers, Eloise sets her gifts down in the kitchen as Anthony walks to you. "For you," he hands you the roses, you smile at him.

"Thank you, sweetheart. That's very thoughtful of you," you toss a glance at your husband who definitely forgot to get you flowers.

Eloise returns a moment later, linking arms with her boyfriend. "You two be safe," Charles tells them. Anthony nods, "I'll have her back before midnight."

"Just come home safe, you're both old enough to be responsible." You say, walking them to the front door and sending them off with a wave. Your husband comes up behind you the moment the door shuts, hugging you from behind before he carries you to the couch.

"So pretty lady, what are we going to do with our empty house?" He asks, you could practically hear the mischief in his voice.

"I'm gonna order takeout and drink a whole bottle of wine," you nudged him off of you, making him groan.

Charles was hoping he'd 'get some' so to speak, seeing that the house was in fact empty and would be for hours. Eloise and Anthony wouldn't be back until after midnight, Sofia and Christopher had gone up to Marseille for the night to spend time together and Gabriel and Oliver were at some club with Georgina and Adrian for the night, so you weren't expecting anyone back anytime soon.

"This is our first valentines together, alone, in a long time," Charles tells you, watching as you sit next to him with two glasses of wine.

"I know," you tapped your glass to his gently before taking a sip.

"It's odd," he whispers into your shoulder, kissing your skin softly. You nod, "but nice. Now hurry up and pick a place, I'm starving."

"Always so charming, my love." He rolls his eyes, earning a playful nudge as he reaches for his phone. You two settled on the Italian place that Charles liked.

He put on some random movie that the two of you had started watching a few days ago and never finished. You find yourself cuddled in your husband's side, his arm wrapped around you as you two tried to figure out what was happening where you left off. Eventually, Charles gives up on the movie and focuses his attention elsewhere.

Your husband pulls you onto his lap, his hands on your hips. "What do you want?" You asked him, your own hands on his shoulders, one sliding up to the nape of his neck; his hair had been growing out, all fuzzy and tickling his skin.

"I can't give my wife some love?" He whispers into your skin, lips peppering kissing along your neck as he pulls you into him. He reached your lips, you mumbled a no before kissing him.

His hands slip under your shirt, yours tangled in his hair; you make a mental note to call your mother in law to book him a haircut.

It's like you're teenagers again, all over each other with no room to breathe.

Hands make quick work of Charles's shirt, tossing it behind you somewhere as he goes to flip the two of you over, pinning you under him just as the doorbell rings.

You can't help the giggle when your husband groans, getting up to get the door as he assumed it was the delivery man with the food.

Except he's met with an annoyed Christopher, who just rolled his eyes when he saw his father shirtless and his mother on the couch. He pushes past Charles and goes to the kitchen.

"Chris?" You called after him, seeing Sofia walk in moments later on the verge of tears and you get up, tossing Charles's shirt to him.

The brunette follows her boyfriend, not saying anything until she reaches the kitchen. There's a screaming match, the two of them switching from English to Italian and then a mix of both. Something about a restaurant and a guy or something along those lines. Sofia's holding onto Christopher's arm and he gently pulled away, walking out the front door and slamming the door shut. Charles follows behind him, probably talking him down from doing something stupid.

These damn Leclerc's and their drama.

Getting up, you walk over to Sofia and sit with her in the kitchen. "Is everything okay? We weren't expecting you two back tonight, actually, we weren't expecting you back for the entire weekend."

The girl sniffles, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. "I hate him."

"Me too," you nodded, rubbing her back. "What did he do this time?"

"It wasn't even him, well I mean, it was but it was me. Actually, well.. it's complicated." She says and you raise an eyebrow, unsure as to what she meant. She speaks, explaining herself. "I bumped into an old friend, and when I say old friend, I mean an old friend. I haven't seen him in like, maybe, six years because he moved from Madrid to London. He just happened to be in Marseille with his girlfriend for Valentine's Day as well."

"Okay... I'm still waiting for what was so bad about that."

"I was waiting for Christopher to get out of the bathroom when my friend noticed me and tapped me on the shoulder. We exchanged hello and exchanged pleasantries, then he kissed my cheek on the way out. Christopher being Christopher, automatically assumes the worst."

You made a face, "so Chris got mad because.. he kissed you on the cheek? Is he dumb?"

"Exactly," she grumbled and you handed her a tissue to clean up her face. "Honestly, that's how Spanish men are, though. They're always affectionate, your father is the same way. I'm certain your friend didn't mean it in the way Christopher took it."

"Even if he did, I didn't take it that way. He has a girlfriend, and regardless, I love Christopher and I would never do that to him."

"I know you wouldn't." You gave her shoulder a squeeze. "Why don't you get something to drink? I'll go see what's going on with them outside hm?" You leave her be for the moment, letting her settle her emotions.

Charles is listening to Christopher ramble, the younger Leclerc spiralling and getting himself caught up in some nonsense lie that his brain made up.

"Christopher," you call for him, stopping him from speaking. He looks at you. "What?"

"You need to apologize to her."

He makes a face, confused as to why you're telling him to apologize when he clearly did nothing wrong, or so he thinks.

"Sofia is a sweet girl, who has no control over the actions of others, and who loves you very much despite your nonsense and your dramatic flare. So you get your ass inside and apologize to your girlfriend for ruining Valentine's day. Either you drive back to Marseille or you figure out something here, because you aren't gonna ruin today for her."

"He kissed her!" He says, flinging his arms in the air. Charles's eyes widened, "what?"

It seems Christopher had left out that detail.

"On the cheek," you clarify, "and so what if he did? You kiss Georgina on the cheek all the time and Sofia doesn't get upset. This guy was just some friend of hers, you need to get over your shit and put your ego to the side because if you don't, you'll lose her."

Christopher huffed, taking in his mother's words before turning and heading inside. You and Charles followed a moment later, hearing bits and pieces of their conversation in the kitchen but eventually, they came into the living room, holding hands.

"Dad," Christopher calls for his father, the man looks over at his son. "Can you get us a hotel room? I tried to get one but everyone says they're booked."

"I can try but why would it be different for me?" He asks, clearly confused and as clueless as the day you met him. "Because you're the prince of Monaco, Charles. Now start calling." You tell your husband, getting up to answer the door - the takeout had finally arrived.

Charles tried his best to get a hotel room for the kids, and even pulled his prince of Monaco card but despite it all, it was Valentine's Day and everywhere was booked.

Sofia decided that she wanted ice cream and Christopher, doing anything to make it up to her, agreed - ignoring the fact that he hated ice cream just for tonight. You sent them off with a wave before returning to your husband on the couch. Charles was refilling your wine glass as you took the food out of the bag.

You two had barely gotten 5 minutes into eating when the door opened and in comes Eloise with her mascara running down her face. She ran straight to her father's arms, collapsing into him.

Anthony follows behind her, the front door slamming shut as he rambles out something in French. "Ce n'est pas à quoi ça ressemblait! Ellie, tu paniques pour rien!" (This is not what it looked like! Ellie, you're freaking out for nothing!)

Eloise had returned home on Valentine's, in tears and was now holding onto her father as if he was going to disappear. The look you saw in Charles' eyes was one you thought was only held for Ferrari and all their torment but it was now directed to his best friend's son, - his baby girl's - his daughter's boyfriend.

"What's going on?" You handed Eloise a tissue, moving to sit on the arm rest of the couch, making yourself the middleman between Charles and Anthony.

The anger on your husband's face made you giggle internally, you could never take him seriously when he was upset - but you understood it. He didn't like to see his kids hurt, especially not his baby girl.

Anthony sighed, passing a hand through his dirty blonde hair; fluffy and flat, much like his father's. "My stupid ex girlfriend saw us while we were at the pier. She came to say hello and she was way too friendly with me - all over me, kissing my cheek, her hand on my chest, all in my face." He groaned, clearly disgusted by this girl.

"Why would you let her do that when you know you have a girlfriend?" Charles asks him, you could hear the roughness in his tone. Your hand gently moves to his shoulder, rubbing it softly.

You spoke next; "did she know you had a girlfriend?"

He nods, "Eloise was taking a picture of something so she was a few feet away and I guess she took it the wrong way when she saw her all over me. I was trying to get her to leave me alone but god, she's like a fucking pest - sorry," he makes a face when he realizes he swore. You wave him off before he continues. "Ellie took it the wrong way, which I understand but she won't hear me out, she thinks I'm cheating on her."

"Are you cheating on her?" Charles asks him.

"No!" You and Anthony answer at the same time; the boy trying to defend himself and you couldn't believe your husband would even ask that.

Eloise finally sits up, her father wiping her cheeks clean. Her blue eyes rimmed with red and slightly puffy from the tears and she turns to Anthony. "Va-t'en, je ne veux pas de toi ici." (go away, I don't want you here.) She tells him, voice trembling.

"Je ne pars pas, Éloïse." (I'm not leaving, Eloise.)

"Ok, je le ferai alors." (okay, i will then.) The girl gets up, walking the other way around the living room and heads up the stairs to what you could only assume was her room. Charles was just as wrapped around her finger as he was when she was born, and followed her to make sure she was alright.

These damn Leclerc's and their drama.

You rolled your eyes at your daughter's dramatics.

Yes, she was upset but Anthony had explained the whole situation in front of you, her and her father. While Anthony might look exactly like his man whore of a father, he was everything like his mother; a sweet, kind and fiercely loyal woman.

It broke your heart to see her upset but it also hurt you to see Anthony in the same state. You get up, hugging the boy as he sniffles, wiping his tears away with the back of his hand.

"She just needs some time to cool off, she's dramatic like her father." You tell him, trying to lighten the mood. You walk him to the kitchen, getting him some water.

He sat in the breakfast nook. "I swear I didn't even see her until she walked over, otherwise I would have walked the other way."

"I know babe, is this the same girl that stalked you after you broke up?"

"Yeah!" He groans, sipping his water. "She's so - ugh." He says, making you laugh. You kiss the top of his head, leaving him there for the time being as you put away what was supposed to be dinner. The food sat on the coffee table, cold and unattended.

The door opens again and you groan, praying it's not another issue but it wasn't; Sofia and Chris come stumbling in, clearly having consumed something other than ice cream.

"Mama!!" Chris grins, untangling his fingers from Sofia's as he walks over to you, kissing your cheek multiple times like he did when he was little - slobbering on your cheek as he did then too.

You laughed, smelling the booze on him. Steadying him, you held his waist. "Hi baby, you okay?"

"Soooo good," he tells you, wobbling over to Sofia, who was also drunk but more steady than your son. You watch as they go upstairs, the sound of the door opening and closing before you walk back to the kitchen.

Anthony still sat in the breakfast nook. "You want something to eat? Something else to drink?" You asked him, wiping your wet cheek off with a tissue.

It takes him a moment to respond. "You know when we were little and you'd cut the apples and make the little peanut butter sandwiches with the slices?" He asks and you nod.

"Want some?" You were already grabbing the apple, peanut butter and honey. Anthony smiles, nodding like he was a kid again.

You washed and cut the apples, spreading the peanut butter and honey on them, sandwiching them together and handing the plate to him. "Thank you," he says, sinking into his seat as he takes a bite of the familiar taste from his childhood.

"Mhm hm," you smiled, hearing the footsteps from behind you. Charles was coming down, kissing your temple as he picked up an extra piece of apple you had on the cutting board.

"Ellie just needs some time." He says, staring daggers at Anthony; if looks could kill.

You huffed, smacking the back of your husband's head. "Stop it, he feels bad enough as it is."

Another set of footsteps come from the hallway and you assume it's Christopher looking for something but then the sound of the front door slamming shut caught your attention. This house was like a free for all, everyone coming and going as they pleased - you made sure to make a mental note to see who had keys to this place.

In came Gabriel who was being held by his boyfriend, Oliver. The two of them were covered in blood and Gabriel had cuts and bruises all over his face.

"What the fuck? What happened?" You say, Charles rushing over to help Oliver sit Gabriel down on a chair.

"He's so fricking hot headed," Oliver says, holding his boyfriend up straight.

It was clear that Gabriel was beyond pissing drunk, the boy swaying unless someone was holding him. Anthony takes over for Oliver, holding Gabriel up as Oliver goes to the bathroom to get the first aid kit.

"What happened?" Charles asks, passing you the cloth as you wiped the blood off your son's face. "I have no clue," you tell him, being extra careful not to hurt him; not like Gabriel would feel it anyways.

Oliver comes back a moment later, setting the kit on the counter and taking back his spot next to Gabriel.

"Ellie's asking for you, man." He tells Anthony, who glances at Charles before quietly making his way out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

Before you could even ask, Oliver starts explaining the events of the night. "We met up with Georgina and Adrian at the club. We were all a little tipsy, and Georgina was trying to get a drink at the bar. Some guy came up behind her and he was getting all handsy, trying to touch her and Adrian was in the bathroom so he didn't see it happen, but Gabriel did and he stepped in." Oliver sighs, brushing his boyfriend's hair from his face.

"Basically, Gabriel told the guy to fuck off and said if he touched Georgina again that he would break his face. The guy took that as a sign to leave and once Adrian came back, the two of them decided that they were going to go get something to eat and just spend the rest of the night at home. But Gabriel being Gabriel, our night couldn't just end there of course."

You carefully patched up Gabriel, wiping his cuts clean and putting antibacterial ointment on what needed it , making sure he didn't need stitches or anything.

"The guy came back again a few minutes later. He was super drunk, as was Gabriel and you know how Gabe can be. They started fighting and next thing you know, they're beating the shit out of each other in the middle of the fucking club."

Oliver tells you the story, causing you to roll your eyes at your son's behaviour. You're proud of him for standing up for his friend but must he always get into a fight for stupid reasons?

"I tried to stop him but I forget how strong Gabriel is sometimes." He huffed and you looked at him, seeing the blood on him. "Are you okay?" You asked, moving over to check him.

"I'm fine," Oliver smiles. "It's Gabe's." He says, gesturing to the blood on his shirt.

Charles was making up the guest room downstairs while you patched Gabriel up. In his drunken state, you all knew he wouldn't be making it up the stairs. Your husband comes back to help Oliver get Gabriel into bed and you threw out the bloody mess that had developed on the counter.

You put the plates in the sink, tossing the garbage out and headed up to check on your oldest and youngest.

There were noises coming from Christoper's room and you figured it best not to investigate further. Eloise's door was open, you knock softly and peek in when you don't get an answer. Her head resting on Anthony's chest, the two of them cuddled up and fast asleep. Switching off the light, you pulled the door shut quietly and made your way back downstairs.

As you reach the bottom step, Charles appears from around the corner. He hugs you, squeezing you tightly.

"What?" you asked him, cupping his jaw.

"Our kids are insane," he tells you, sighing. You can't help the laugh, leaning down to kiss your husband. "Those are your genes."

Charles rolls his eyes and takes your hand, pulling you behind him.

"Where are we going?" You asked, following him. He leads you to the car, opening the door for you to get in before getting in himself. It was a short drive and you two ended up on the pier, Charles parks the car and looks over at you.

"What?" You asked him again.

"Just wanted some alone time with my wife," he whispers, leaning over to kiss you. "I can't have that?"

"No," you shook your head, leaning in your seat to reach him. Charles smiles against your lips, as you melted into each other, lost in the moment.

With a soft smile and a lingering touch, you reluctantly pulled away with your cheeks as red as the first night he kissed you. "What was that for?"

"Nothing," he says, smiling. "Happy Valentine's Day babe."

"Happy Valentine's Day, my love."

--

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**if you were previously tagged in a daddy & me + three piece and you aren't no, that means your tag wasn't working or it was sent incorrectly to me. please message me and I will fix it!

[here-lies-they-ran-outta-luck]

Hi, I saw a note that you are accepting requests and if you aren’t totally ignore this

But could you write something with Theo nott, where she speaks a different language and her English isn’t perfect so she makes a mistake instead of saying she’s going to meet someone she says she’s going on a date and he gets all upset and jealous, maybe angst to fluff or something <3 I think it would be cute

- Thanks 🪐🪐

It's A Date (Theodore Nott x F!Reader)

warning- she/her pronouns, google translated french, i changed it a little from the request but it's basically the same.

a/n- I am in a very Theo Nott mood if you can't tell.

word count- 721

“I don’t know, I just really like her,” Theo says, his cheeks slightly rosy due to Pansy’s prying.

“Oh come on! There’s got to be something specific you like about her,” Pansy says, giggling at the tall boy’s embarrassed state, “Just give me three things you like!”

“I like her french accent, I guess,” He answers after a small pause, “She’s also pretty and so sweet. I’ve got no Idea how she was ever sorted into Slytherin.”

“I think you should ask her out. She would definitely say yes, you’re an absolute catch!” Pansy says, getting more excited about Theodores crush.

“I’ll think about it. Let’s get going for breakfast,” He answers, grabbing his satchel and walking out of the common room.

Not soon after the two get settled down at the Slytherin table, the lovely smell of your vanilla perfume fills Theo’s nose. “Bonjour Theo!”

“Good morning,” He replies, giving you a small smile and scooting over to give you some room.

“How has your morning been?” You ask, he blushes slightly at your strong accent. His Italian accent was never that strong, he only ever spoke Italian around his mom and her family. You however spoke it all the time, you and Draco had a plethora of conversations in French.

“Better now that you’re here,” after a small pause he gains a slight amount of confidence, “I was wondering if maybe-”

“Hi, (Y/n),” a boy from Ravenclaw says, cutting off Theodore before continuing, “Would you want to accompany me to our next Hogsmead weekend?”

“Yes,” You say with a smile, “It’s a date!” You didn’t really mean that it was a date at all, it was simply just an expression you’d heard. However it broke all of Theos confidence he previously had.

“De toute façon, what were you saying Theo?” You ask, turning back to the pretty boy with hopeful eyes. Unknown to anyone, you also fancied Theo.

“I was um- just wondering if you got the paper on alhistoy?” Theo says, ending his sentence with a large gulp of orange juice.

Your smile deflates a little bit, “Oh, yeah I did.” You pull out your paper and hand it to him. Theo had already gotten the paper finished, so he just silently stared at the prettily written page for a few seconds before handing it back.

Theodore didn’t talk to you very much for the next few days, he spent a majority of his time alone talking to Pansy about his heartbreak.

Theo didn’t plan on talking to you until after your trip with the boy, and even then he wanted to wait a while.

“Hé! How have you been Theo? I’ve missed you!” You say, finally getting to see him.

“How was your date?” He asks, angry, not looking at you.

“I didn’t go on a date?” You reply, puzzled.

“Did you end up not going then?” He asks again, looking up at you.

“I went to hang out with a friend, but I didn’t see it as a date,” You answer, taken aback.

“You didn’t?” He asks, standing up and walking towards you.

“Non, we’re just friends,” You answer with a smile, now looking up at the boy.

“But you said it was a date,” He says, with a flat face.

“Isn’t that just an expression you English people use?” You reply, laughing slightly at the boy.

“Okay,” He replies, slowly.

“Are you okay Teddy?” You ask, stepping closer to him.

“Yeah,” He says, absentmindedly, “I think I’m in love with you.”

“What?” You reply, looking at him with wide eyes.

“Teddy, are you sure?” You ask, sucking in a breath, waiting for his response.

“I was a little heartbroken when you said it was a date,” He breathes, pulling you into a hug, “Now I would like to do what I was too scared to do. Would you like to go on a date with me?” He asks after pulling away from the hug slightly.

“I would more than love to go on a date with you, Teddy,” You say, giving him a smile and pulling him back into a hug, smiling even wider when you feel him smile into your neck.

“It’s a date then? For real this time?” He says, muffled by your neck.

“Obviously,” You say, laughing at his lame joke.

[in-a-nook-with-a-notebook]

Use Your Words

Franchise: Marvel (Spider-Man: Across The Spider-Verse)

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x male reader (reader's pronouns are he/him/his)

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: smut, sub!Miguel, dom!reader, office sex, door unlocked, loud Miguel, breeding kink, Miguel has a praise kink, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, hair pulling, anal fingering, reader referred to as sir, Miguel's claws, Miguel's fangs, minor degradation, minor angst (reader's been worried about Miguel), fluffy aftercare

Summary: Miguel had been teasing you all day, the little shit. You knew that he knew damn well what he was doing. And he knew exactly what would happen when you caught him alone that night.

A/N: Requested by an irl of mine @sixatrocities ! This is my first smut that I'm actually posting so bear with me (is it still considered a one shot when it's over 3k words??) also I myself do NOT speak Spanish (English, French and a bit of Italian but not Spanish) so most of what Miguel says is directly from Google Translate and I'm so sorry if I messed up - this was also written as though Miguel’s suit is like a physical one as opposed to what I assume is nanotech somehow in the movie

You’re in a meeting with various other members of the Spider Society. This includes Jessica, Hobie, Pavitr, Gwen, Peter and Mayday. And of course, you, Miguel and Lyla. You lean back in your chair at one end of the long table, farthest from where Miguel is at the other end. He’s mostly stopped his teasing, other than shooting you mischievous looks from across the table when no one’s paying attention.

“Any questions?” Miguel says finally, having finished his explanation about the next mission. You know he can feel your gaze burning into him, but he pointedly ignores it. No one says anything, clearly satisfied with the information given.

“Class dismissed,” you say sarcastically. Everyone begins to leave without a word. You turn your eyes on Miguel’s AI. “Lyla, take the night off,” you say. “I need to… discuss some things with Miguel. One on one.”

As Lyla blips out, Miguel swallows hard, finally looking up at you.

“You guys alright?” Peter asks on his way out.

“We’re fine, Pete,” you say, your gaze trained on Miguel’s. His eyes are dilated so much you can’t discern the black of his pupils from the brown of his irises as he scans your face. “Don’t worry about it. Have a goodnight, man, say hi to MJ for me.”

“…Alright,” he replies, though he sounds slightly unsure. “Say bye, Mayday.”

You turn to look at the young redhead, a sweet smile crossing your face as you wave to her. You nod to Peter as he slips out the door.

And then there were two.

“Y/N-”

“Miguel,” you say, your voice bordering on a warning. You slowly cross the room to where he’s standing at the wall. He begins to back away when you get too close, backing up so far that he ends up pressed between you and the wall. You place your palm flat on his broad chest, feeling his heartbeat quicken under your fingertips.

“What was that?”

“What, er, what was what?” He asks in a tight voice. His eyes flicker from your eyes to your lips and back again.

“You know exactly what you were doing, O’Hara.”

Miguel’s breath hitches in his throat. “I’m-”

“We’ve talked about this, haven’t we?”

Miguel nods quickly. “Mhm.”

“So you know what comes next, then, hm?”

He nods again. “Mhm.”

“Your office,” you state. “Now.”

“Y-Yes, sir.”

————————

You follow close behind Miguel as the two of you walk back to Miguel’s office. You say hello in passing to some of the people you pass, like Ben and Margo, prolonging how long Miguel has to wait for the consequences of his actions.

When you reach the office, Miguel moves to lock the door behind the two of you. You catch his wrist before he can touch the doorknob.

“No,” you say.

“But-”

“Miguel.”

“…Yes, sir.”

You gesture for him to go to his desk and you notice him shift his suit a little. You follow him to the desk. He turns around to say something, but you pin him between you and the desk before he can get a word out, his hands bracing himself on the edge of the surface. The proximity gives you both some friction between your respective suits. Miguel sucks in a breath when you grind against him, chewing on his bottom lip. You can see his sharp fangs outlined against his soft pink lip while he watches you carefully.

“You can’t be a tease in the middle of a meeting, baby,” you say in a low voice.

“I’m sorry,” Miguel says breathlessly.

“No you aren’t,” you murmur. “That was bad, Miguel.”

“I’ll be good,” he says desperately. “Por favor, señor, I’ll be good for you.”

You raise an eyebrow in challenge and feel him practically melt underneath you. “Take the suit off, sweetheart.” You step back to allow him to free himself from the confines of his suit. He’s soon left in his boxers, watching you for his next instructions.

“So handsome…” you whisper. You step towards him again, ghosting your fingers over his warm bare skin. He shivers under your touch. “Just begging to be fucked, aren’t you?” You hook a finger under the waistband of his underwear. A whine escapes his lips before he can stop it. “Use your words, baby boy.”

“Please,” he whimpers.

“Please what, Miguel?”

He squirms a little under your hand. “Please fuck me, I need you inside me…”

You guide him back to the desk, framing his body as he leans against it. You can feel his hard, clothed cock against your covered crotch. He tries to grind against you, desperate for a little more friction, but you gain bruising grip on his hips, holding him in place.

“I didn’t say you could move.”

“Por favor, señor, necesito tu polla dentro de mí,” Miguel begs.

“Patience, darling,” you say. You reach around Miguel’s broad frame and push everything off his desk. He looks like he’s about to object, his mouth opening to say something, but the look you give him tells him to keep it to himself. “We’ll fix it later,” you assure him quickly. His tense body relaxes a little.

In mere moments, you rid yourself of your own suit, reaching for the secret compartment of one of the drawers of Miguel’s desk. The two of you have fucked in his office on more than one occasion, so he keeps some condoms around just in case. As you move to withdraw one, Miguel’s thick fingers curl around your wrist. You look back at him.

“Miguel?” You say in a teasingly questioning tone.

“Just your cock,” he whispers. You drop the condom and close the drawer without looking away from him.

“You want me to breed you,” you say. Miguel chews on his lip nervously but he nods.

“Yes, fuck, please.”

“You love the idea of that, don’t you?” You mutter, leaning close to his face. “The thought of being fucked full of my cum to have my kids? Is that what you want?”

Miguel whimpers as you press yourself against him. “Y-Yes, sir…”

A smirk crosses your face. “Good boy.” Your hand moves upwards to thread your fingers into Miguel’s hair. You tug his head back and a gasp tumbles from his lips. Your lips attack his neck, sucking hickeys from the bottom of his jaw down to his collarbone. As you move further down, your lips attach to one of his nipples. A sharp whine escapes him, his body arching into you. He grips your shoulders.

“Fuck,” he whimpers.

One of your hands, the one that had been hooked under his waistband, slips into his boxers, gently grabbing his hard cock while your mouth stays on his chest.

“Ay, dios mío,” he moans. “Please, sir, fuck me, I need your cock so bad, please…!”

You tug his boxers down around his ankles, letting his dick spring free of its confines. Miguel kicks them away as you shed yours too. You stick three fingers in Miguel’s mouth.

“Suck,” you order. That skillful tongue of his swirls around your digits, watching you in desperation. You stroke your cock a few times while you watch Miguel. “Such a good boy for me, baby. So obedient.” You take your fingers away. “Lay back on the desk,” you tell him.

He shifts to sit on the edge of the desk, wincing at the feeling of the cold surface under his bare ass, then lays down on his back, his legs spreading automatically for you. You run one of your wet fingers around his puckered hole and he shivers. You push one finger into his entrance and Miguel moans loudly at the feeling, gripping the edge of the desk above his head.

“So tight for me, darling, so perfect,” you murmur. You pump your finger in and out of his hole, soon adding the second one. Miguel’s mouth falls open, his moans getting more and more high-pitched with your every move. You curl and scissor your fingers inside him and soon his legs are trembling on either side of you. “Can’t wait to breed this tight hole of yours, fuck…” You add your third finger and Miguel already looks like he could cum.

“You think you’re ready?” You ask him.

“Yes, fuck, yes.”

“Use your words, baby boy. Please what?”

Miguel whines as you withdraw your fingers. “Please breed me, I need it!”

You quickly grab a little bottle of lube from the desk drawer, coating your dick in the cold substance. You toss the bottle to the side when you’re finished with it. You place one of Miguel’s legs over your shoulder, lining your shaft up with his entrance.

You push in slowly, watching Miguel for any signs of discomfort. His sharp claws dig into your back. His eyes roll back and his lips part, letting out one of the most beautiful moans you’ve ever heard.

“Good boy, such a good boy, taking me so well,” you say, making sure every inch of you is inside his hole.

“Oh, fuck, you’re so big…”

“You can take it, I know you can,” you say as you bottom out. Miguel whimpers. You stay still for a few moments to let him adjust. When he looks up at you with red-tinted, lust filled eyes, you watch him.

“Move,” he whispers. “Please.”

“As you wish.”

You thrusts start slow, but once you start to see your dick bulging in his stomach, you increase your speed. Miguel’s loud moans fill the air, mixing with the sound of skin slapping on skin while you fuck into him. You rest your hand over his stomach bulge. “This what you wanted?” You ask. “Wanted me to fuck you like a needy little whore to be bred?” You thrust into him particularly roughly, eliciting another moan from him.

“S-Sí, señor- ah, fuck…!”

“You just wanna be filled up with my cum, don’t you? Wanna have my kids, huh?”

“Please, please, please,” Miguel begs breathlessly.

“This tight little ass of yours is gonna be my personal cum dump,” you state with a sharp snap of your hips. You can tell from the moan he releases and the way he grips your shoulders that you hit his prostate. “That feel good? You like it when I say I’m gonna fill you up?”

He almost looks like he’s in a haze as he reaches towards his cock. You slap his hand away. “No touching,” you growl, hitting his prostate again.

“P-Please, sir, I’m- I’m so close!”

“Oh yeah?” You taunt. “Gonna cum without your dick touched?” You emphasize each word with a sharp thrust.

“Señor, por favor, es demasiado!”

“Take it, you little slut,” you growl, gripping his hips in a way that’ll leave bruises. “Gonna fuck you so full of my cum, baby boy.”

“Please, please, I need to cum…!”

“Cum for me, Miguel,” you order, moving one of your hands to wrap around his cock.

It takes only one stroke from you and he’s screaming your name, cumming all over his chest and your hand. The feeling of his hole clenching around your cock almost sends you over the edge, but not yet. You work him through his orgasm, stroking his shaft as you milk him. Your hand doesn’t cease its movements after he’s finished. He begins to squirm underneath you.

“Señor,” he whines. “Es demasiado, I can’t take anymore!”

“You can and you will,” you state, once again increasing the speed of your thrusts. You can feel the coil in your stomach begin to tighten.

“Señ- oh, mi maldito dios!” He exclaims when you swipe your thumb over the sensitive tip of his cock. “Santa mierda!”

“I’m close, baby, you’re doing so well for me,” you say in a low voice, fucking him with everything you’ve got. “You’re gonna take it all and you’re not gonna spill a drop, got that?”

“Sí, sí, sí- oh mierda… jodidamente arruinarme…!”

All you have left in you to say is growling out curses as you get yourself off with Miguel’s hole. Your hand is no longer on his cock, but bending his legs so his knees are up to his chest, giving you an even better angle at his prostate.

“Y/N, sir, please!” Miguel shouts. “Please, cum inside me, please…!”

With your hand on his stomach again, you feel the coil in your stomach snap. Your thrusts falter. “Fuck, Miguel!” You yell, burying your cock to the hilt in his ass, cumming harder than you have in a while. You can feel Miguel squirming underneath you, his hole clenching around you as he cums again suddenly. He’s trembling beneath you. Your balls drain, your cum painting his insides white. You see a bulge in his stomach where your cum is and feel a sense of satisfaction. You stay inside him for a moment, revelling in the feeling of having bred him.

“Good boy,” you say in a low tone. “Gonna keep that all inside, sweet boy?”

“Yes, sir,” Miguel murmurs, looking thoroughly fucked out. His claws retract and his hands drop to his sides. Your shoulders burn where his claws had dug into your skin, but you’ve always loved getting to see the marks he leaves behind.

“Good boy, Miguel, so good for me.”

You lean down and press a deep kiss to his soft lips. Your tongue pokes into his mouth, feeling his fangs. You grin into the kiss. When you pull away, he takes your hand that had been jacking him off and licks off the excess cum that had been left when he had climaxed, and damn if it wasn’t one of the hottest things you’ve ever seen.

“Let’s go home and get you cleaned up, babe,” you say gently.

You carefully help Miguel to his feet, finding his boxers on the floor. You have to help him back into them, considering he can barely move or walk properly. You help him out his suit back on as well. He hisses at the feeling of his oversensitive cock rubbing against the fabric of his underwear. You tug on your boxers and your suit as well. You know you’ll have to wash or replace both of your suits, considering there’s likely cum all over the inside of Miguel’s now, but how else were the two of you supposed to talk back to your apartment? Naked?

As tempting as it is to show everyone that Miguel isn’t so scary under the right circumstances, you wouldn’t do that to him. Plus, you’d like to keep that sight for yourself.

You have to support Miguel as the two of you walk, his arm wrapped around your shoulders. Anyone who questions his stiff movements look to you for an answer. “Rough mission,” you reply with a smirk.

————————

Miguel leans against the wall next the door to your shared apartment, waiting for you to dig out your key. You do about 75% of the Macarena to locate it, jamming it in the keyhole and letting the two of you in. You lock the door behind you when you’re both inside.

“How you feeling, hot stuff?” You tease gently, giving Miguel a once-over.

“Sticky,” he admits quietly.

You grimace. “Sorry. Shower?”

“Can’t stand properly,” he says, a tone of humour in his voice even though you can tell he’s still feeling pretty stiff.

“Bath?” You suggest. He nods tiredly.

Miguel uses the wall to hold himself up as the two of you make your way to the bathroom. You walk more quickly so as to get the water running. While the tap is on, the water warming up, you move to help Miguel get rid of his suit again. You set it by the door so you can remember to wash it later. You do the same with your own. As you help Miguel out of his boxers, he sucks in a breath through his teeth; his cock is still sensitive and you’d just accidentally brushed it with your hand.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, cupping his cheek with your hand.

“’S’alright,” he mumbles. He turns his head, pressing a gentle kiss to the heel of your hand. You smile at him, then finish helping him undress. You set his underwear aside with his suit, again doing the same with your own.

You lean forward and softly connect your lips with Miguel’s in a loving kiss.

“I love you,” you murmur.

“I love you too, mi vida.”

“In all seriousness, though, are you alright?”

“Soy perfecto, querido,” he says assuringly. “A little achy, maybe, but I’m alright.”

“If I ever go to far-”

“I’ll tell you. Promise.” He kisses you again.

The two of you slip into the warm water, Miguel resting between your legs and leaning his back against your chest. You press a kiss to the back of his ear and he hums contentedly.

“Comfortable?” You ask. Miguel nods.

You help him clean up the mess you’d both made, happy to feel him relax under your touch. He’s been tense all the time. Any moment of comfort and rest you can bring him, you’ll do it. As much as you love him, he’s been off for a while now, always tense and grumpy. Nothing you couldn’t handle, but it still worried you. He wasn’t always like this.

You had your suspicions as to why - or, rather, who - was making him feel like this, but you knew you shouldn’t mention her. She’d deny it a thousand times over, and you weren’t sure Miguel would believe you either.

“You’re safe, my love,” you say quietly, wrapping your arms around him.

“Thank you.” He pauses for a moment, then he tenses. “Oh, shit, my desk-”

“We’ll go back, it’s okay,” you answer quickly. You reach one hand up and run your fingers through his hair. His posture softens, leaning comfortably against your chest again. “We’ll clean up that mess after we’re done with this one. Okay?”

He nods slowly. “Okay.” His eyes close a little; he’s tired, and you know it. He’s been tired for a long time. 

“Tell you what,” you say. “I’d say we’re pretty much cleaned up, so how about we dry off and you curl up in bed, and I’ll go back and fix your desk.”

“But-”

“I know how you organize it,” you reassure him. “And I’ll swing there and back, so I won’t be gone long. Is that okay?” Miguel hesitates. “Baby, you need rest,” you remind him, gently rubbing his arm.

He sighs tiredly but he nods. You kiss the nape of his neck. He leans his head back to rest on your shoulder, looking at you with exhausted brown eyes.

“Hey, pretty boy,” you tease softly. He grins lazily.

“Hi.”

[deadghosy]

How Slytherin boys react to sister! Reader dating:

Warning: boyfriend house not specific, google translated Italian, protective brothers & stalking

Ft. Tom Riddle, Mattheo Riddle, Draco Malfoy, Theodore Nott, Lorenzo Berkshire.

The Riddle Brothers

“WHAT??” Mattheo yells as Draco had told him that you were dating Someone. The thing was that you haven’t told him first.

Why didn’t you tell him..cause now he’s frowning and venting to the oldest riddle that’s reading a book.

“TOM! Our baby sister is dating someone, but she hasn’t said a single thing…I swear what if the guys bad..”

“We could easily kill him. So why worry brother?” Tom says looking up. But it was clear that Tom was mad that you haven’t told him. You always tell him things, so to the point you haven’t told him made him a “little” angry.

Mattheo and Tom looked at each other and nodded as they left the Slytherin common room.

You were walking with your boyfriend when all of a sudden you felt eye burning in the back of your head. You turn around and there you see only mattheo because of course Tom is invisible.

“Mattheo…why didnt you turn invisible when clearly she’s glaring at you.”

“Tom, stfu.”

Draco Malfoy

Ima make your boyfriend here as potter cause it’s definitely gonna be funny.

Straight up gets so dramatic to his knees, screaming for someone to kill him as he sees you dating his enemy. How could you betray him?! Your big brother is devastated

After dinner, he drags you to the common room and becomes a mother hen as he lectures you about how “terrible” pottah is.

“He’s a terrible person! And a Gryffindor. End of presentation…got any questions.” Draco says with a raised up brow

“Yeah, only one. Can I go to sleep now…”

Theodore Nott

IM SORRY BUT HE’S GONNA PULL OUT THE ITALIAN

“Mi stai spezzando il cuore qui sorellina... non puoi uscire finché non sono morto...” (you’re breaking my heart here lil sis you can’t date til I’m dead)

“ALLORA COME CAZZO USCIREI? SONO SOLO UN’ORA IN RITARDO DOPO DI TE?” (Then how the fuck would I date I’m only a hour late after you)

I feel like he would do the hand gesture, 🤌 yeahhhh…..

During the months he would try to give you the birds and the bees talk when you obviously know what it is, and you’re running away from him.

Of course he won’t stalk you, he’s too much of a good brother to do that to you. So you are lucky

But one word that your boyfriend is hurting you verbally, physically, or emotionally. He’s hurting him 10 times bad.

Lorenzo Berkshire

“I wanna meet him.”

“WHY YOU LOOKIN AT ME LIKE THAT?!.”

His soft face turned serious when you told him you’re dating someone. Because you thought Lorenzo would react happy for you.

He’s literally acting like a father as he has the boyfriend in front of him, wand in hand as his smile was tight. “So, I heard your dating my sister. Why?”

Pulls out the “why do you wanna date my daughter/sister” card😭😭

If the boyfriend passes, he’s welcome. If not, find a better boyfriend.

[embrosegraves]

𝕎𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕 𝕀𝕥 𝔹𝕖 𝕆𝕜𝕒𝕪?

Arthur Leclerc x Reader In which after the reader has an unwanted interaction, Reader’s 6-year-old daughter has a serious talk with Arthur “Would it be okay if I called you dad?”

Warnings/Notes: Google Translated French and Italian. unnamed ex-boyfriend.

You had never imagined ever becoming a teen mum. You hadn’t given any thought to getting pregnant with your boyfriend. There was no need to think about stuff like that, the two of you were only 16. That’s why you were so shocked to find out a month before you turned 17, that you would be having your first child. 

Of course, after you eventually got over the shock, you immediately told your boyfriend. H was less than pleased with the situation. He didn’t outright say that he didn’t want it, but the way he treated you afterwards made that pretty clear to you. He was not going to help you. You had sat him down the night before your birthday to talk about what you were going to do. That night, he said that didn’t want to be a parent. That he didn’t want to be your boyfriend any longer. 

Most people would become hysterical. Most people would start crying and begging for their partner to stay with them. That they could make it work. But not you. Your response to his words had stunned him. 

“If you don’t want to be with me, that’s fine. If you don’t want to be a father, that’s fine too. After today I don’t want you near me or my baby, so once they’re born I want you to sign your rights away.” You were stone-faced with anger when you spoke to him. “No matter what you say or do from here on out, I will have full custody of my child and you will have nothing to do with them. Am I clear?”

He looked almost angry at your words, but he gritted his teeth and agreed to your demands. That was the last night you ever saw him. Either his family had moved away, or he had suddenly stopped frequenting the places you used to go together but whatever the reason you were strangely satisfied that you never ran into him for the remainder of your surprise pregnancy. 

Your parents were your biggest supporters throughout the whole ordeal. You could still remember the day your parents found out you were pregnant. It was the day you yourself had found out. Your father had found you in the bathroom, sitting on the toilet lid in shock with tears streaming down your face. He rushed to you, worried out of his mind. Your father’s arms had wrapped around you protectively and your crying got louder as you tried to explain the news to him. 

Your mother had come up the stairs when she heard you sobbing hysterically, only to find you clutching to your father as if he had told you he was dying tomorrow. He never loosened his hold on you as he explained to your mother what the issue was. She was equal parts worried and elated. Your mother took no time to join you and your father in the embrace. It had taken you almost an hour to come to terms with what you were about to go through, but knowing that you had your parents’ support and assistance made it all that much easier to deal with. 

7 and a half months later, you had given birth to a daughter. That was the first and last day that your ex-boyfriend saw your daughter. You had texted him to come to hospital as you had the paperwork he needed to sign so that he could give his rights away. Being in no state to follow him and make sure that he signed what was necessary, your father had followed and stood opposite to him so he could make sure he wasn’t going to rip up the paperwork. 

At some point in your pregnancy, you had expressed to your parents that while he had agreed to sign them away, you were worried that he would try something when the day came. Your father said that he would need a witness in order for the papers to be legal anyway, so he would be there to make sure your ex couldn’t try anything nefarious. 

Despite countless nights sat with your parents on the couch in your living room, you still hadn’t come up with a name for your daughter. Your mother’s family hailed from France and your father’s family hailed from Italy, so you wanted something that had both ethnic backgrounds. 

As soon as you laid eyes on your baby, after hours of labour, you knew instantly what her name would be. 

Colette Vincenza L/n

You were always thankful that she was a well behaved baby, she had only really started acting like the stories you’d heard when she was teething. But once she had all her teeth, she was a kindhearted angel for you and your parents. That’s how she was, even as she continued growing. 

When Colette was just over a year old, you had met someone while going about your day in the French markets. The stroller was in front of you as you browsed the stalls. You had been so absorbed in your daughter that you had failed to notice someone walking the opposite direction and had accidentally bumped into them. Because of the impact, the man had spilled some of his hot drink in front of him, and consequently onto your daughter’s stroller. You quickly grabbed Colette out and started to sooth her, as she had been shocked and started to cry. Amidst you trying to sooth your daughter and double check that none of the hot liquid had fallen on her, the man had started apologising profusely. 

“It’s alright, really. I should have been more aware of the surroundings.” As you continued to rock Colette, you finally looked up at whoever you had bumped into. He was very handsome, looked to be around your age, and was clearly worried that he had unknowingly hurt the small baby with you. 

“No no, it’s my fault as well. I wasn’t paying attention at all. Please let me repay you, I would never forgive myself if I didn’t help you somehow.” He sounded so sincere you couldn’t help but take a bit of pity on him. 

“I promise you, you don’t need to do anything. But if it would make you feel better, and if you don’t have anywhere to be right now, you could tag along with me while I finish my shopping.” He didn’t hesitate to agree, feeling bad enough as it was. 

Noticing that Colette had calmed down now, you ran your hand down the back of her head and spoke to her as you put her back in the stroller. 

“Tu vas bien maintenant Lette, Maman t'a eu.” (You’re okay now, Lette. Mummy’s got you.)

“Tu parles français?”  (You speak French?)

You looked at him as you resumed walking through the markets. “Oui. En plus de l'italien et de l'anglais, j'ai parlé français toute ma vie.” (Yes. Along with Italian and English, I have spoken French all my life)

“Abbiamo già due cose in comune.” His smile when he spoke in his mother tongue was gorgeous, but it had nothing on his smile when he spoke Italian. You couldn’t help but grin back at him. (We already have two things in common)

You continued talking with each other and by the end of the day you had learnt two very important things about him. His name was Arthur Leclerc and he was a Formula 2 racing driver for Ferarri’s Driver Academy. Eventually you had noticed it was getting late so you exchanged phone numbers to keep in touch and went back home. 

That was almost five years ago and since then, Arthur had taken you on many dates, some alone and some with your daughter. He was there for almost all of her firsts. Her first words, first steps and even her first loose tooth. Eventually he asked if you wanted to be his girlfriend and, though you had hesitated at first, you had become official with him. 

Arthur was over at your place playing with Colette when you heard someone knock on your door. You looked at each other confused as you weren’t expecting anyone tonight, your parents would’ve called ahead if they were going to come by. Getting up from your seat, you gave Arthur a kiss and kissed Colette’s head before going to answer your door. 

The person standing behind it was very impatient as they kept knocking on the hardwood door. 

“Arrivo subito, calmati.” You called as you unlocked the door and opened it. Seeing who it was, you almost closed it straight away if he hadn’t put his foot in the way to stop it. (I’ll be right there, calm down.)

“Cosa stai facendo qui?” You tried to keep your anger in check as you looked at him expectantly. (What are you doing here?)

“You know I don’t speak Spanish.” 

“C'était italien, connard. What do you want?” Your patience was wearing thin. (That was Italian, asshole)

“I think you already know.” The bastard had the nerve to smirk when he spoke to you. 

“You have no right to her. You signed those damn papers. Even if you hadn’t, you had six years to see her. Why now?” 

“I was in the area. Thought I’d stop by.” 

“Well, you stopped. Now you can go.” You kicked his foot none too gently and closed the door before he could continue. Locking the door, you turned and walked back to where your boyfriend and daughter were still playing. Taking note of the time, you gently ushered Colette to bed before you and Arthur also began getting ready to sleep. 

There was no need to tell Arthur who was at your door, as your house was very open plan so he could hear the entire conversation from the living room. As you both laid down, he held you close and comforted you until you both fell asleep. 

The next morning, you woke up before Arthur, seeing as you had to begin working. You were glad that you had started a home business because it meant that you didn’t need to make the commute to work through morning traffic. All you had to do was get dressed and sit down in your home office so you could start answering emails from customers about their packages arriving damaged. 

Arthur had slept in a little that morning meaning that he was awoken by Colette climbing into your bed to lay next to him. When she saw he was awake, she nuzzled her face into his neck and he wrapped his arms around her gently.

“Can I talk to you?” She asked him. “Without Maman?” 

Arthur was a little worried about what she wanted to talk about, as she hadn’t ever come to speak with him alone. 

“But of course, Petit, what’s wrong?” 

“I heard Maman talking to that man yesterday, and I know I’m still little and that Maman doesn’t talk about my Papa, but I know that was him.” 

Arthur felt entirely out of his depth. He knew Colette was smart, he praised her constantly for it, but he hadn’t expected her to understand what happened the night before. 

“Did it bother you that he came here?” Arthur was ready to hunt him down and tell him to never even think about you or Colette ever again. 

“Not really. I know he helped Maman make me, but he’s not my real papa. It just made me think about something.” 

“And what did you think about, Petit?” 

“Would it be okay if I called you Papa? Je vois comment Grand-père rend Grand-mère heureuse, et tu rends Maman heureuse, alors je voulais te demander.” (I see how Grandpa makes Grandma happy, and you make Mummy happy, so I wanted to ask.)

Because the walls inside your home were very thin, you could hear the entire conversation between your daughter and your boyfriend. You were a little shocked at what she said but your heart swelled with more love than you thought possible when Arthur replied. 

“I would be honoured for you to call me Papa.”

hehehehehehe I love this so much

The poll was VERY clear that people wanted this asap so here it is!

I hope you enjoyed reading!

likes, replies and reblogs are always appreciated <3

[landograndprix]

lucky charm ✾ c.l

summary – what's meant to be will always find a way

a/n: added something new to it, also google translated french & italian so dont blame me pls :') requests are open! ♡

☆☆☆☆☆

y/nusername

Monte-Carlo, Monaco

liked by yourbestfrienduser, arthur_leclerc and 101,761 others

y/nusername Oh à la maison, comme tu m’as manqué ♥︎ (Oh home, how I've missed you ♥︎)

view all 219 comments

yourbestfrienduser missed u ❤️

y/nusername missed you more ❤️

hannahh back home for good or just for a while? :))))

y/nusername just spending my week off with friends and family, will be going back to Milan soon!

friendsuser1 have fun! 🥰

norrizz04 can I be friends with you all?

sharl16 I like to think she's in Monaco for Charles but we all know that's not true :(

leclerc_16 Charles is not even in Monaco, he's in maranello rn

sharl16 i didn’t sign up to be a child of divorce :(

dannyricric they unfollowed each other on all their socials, I don't think we'll ever get to see them back together 😢

tifosi5516 call me delulu but Arthur, lorenzo and their gfs still follow her and that's what's keeping my hopes up 😭

cl_15 girl come to the next gp because your ex man is doing a shit job right now 💀

zhouey lmao girl would you support your ex?

cl_16 if his name was Charles leclerc, yes ☺

☆☆☆☆☆

y/nusername

Milan, Italy

liked by isahernaez, francisca.cgomes and 142,671 others

y/nusername una nuova settimana con giorni come questi.

(a new week with days like these.)

view all 299 comments

bott-ass the thing I'd do to live a life like this...

yourmomsuser fier de toi ma chérie 🥰 (proud of you, darling)

y/nusername maman je t'aime ❤️

y/nusefan1 stop it adopt me into the family please :((

francisca.cgomes you need to tell me where you got that skirt from

y/nusername made it myself baby, what color do you want..black? 😉

francisca.cgomes you know me too well 🥰

pierressswife love that this friendship is still going strong 😭

landoscar well yeah she broke up with Charles not with kika..

charlesny/n wearing red? 👀

charlosss_ girl stop being delusional, can't she just wear something red without being linked to ferrari or charles lmao leave her be

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☆☆☆☆☆

scuderiaferrari

Autodromo Nazionale Monza

liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55 and 256,981 others

scuderiaferrari a weekend to remember 👏

first podium of the year! 🏆

#MonzaGp @/charles_leclerc

view all 1,763 comments

tifosired well done Charles!! 🔥

mikeklein let's goooooooo!

sainzz55 Charles p1, Carlos p3 VAMOSSS!!

chrlsleclerc man went from being a midfielder to p1 all of the sudden..not like Milan is far away from monza..if you know what I mean..

zhouey24 the way I tried to catch a familiar face in the paddocks and ferrari garage the whole time 😅

chrlsleclerc same 😔

teamferrari55 I want to thank @y/nusername for this and no I don't know if she's the reason for this sudden change but let's just thank her 😂

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y/nusername posted on their story

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y/nusername

Paris, France

liked by yourbestfrienduser, charles_leclerc and 166,212 others

y/nusername thank you dior for having us ❤️

view all 301 comments

pierrelexlerc bestie manifesting another win for her man by wearing red, love to see it 😍

byelando red was the theme of the event, kika and her friend were all in red

pierrelexlerc girl let me have this 😭

lunaar the only 3 who really stuck to the theme though 😭

francisca.cgomes had the best time ❤️

yourbestfrienduser ❤️❤️

y/nusername ❤️❤️

thurthur Charles liked and that's all I need to know

millieeev dress??

y/nusername my own 😅

maxmaxmax you better start your own business soon because I needed half the stuff you make in my closet 😩

charlieee16 p1 for Charles this weekend I see

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y/nusername

Mexico City, Mexico

liked by pierregasly, charles_leclerc and 178,624 others

y/nusername kik & I. I & kik ♥︎

tagged: francisca.cgomes

view all 361 comments

leclercc16_ no but everyone is in Mexico right now, please tell me you're on the grid this weekend

youdidaverstappen you're in Mexico? 😭

daneel1990 two pretty best friends 🥰

francisca.cgomes just two explorers exploring 🌏

pierregasly two explorers who got lost.

chilisainz 💀 💀

y/nusername we already thanked you enough for picking us up. Sit down.

pierregasly could use a feet massage.

y/nusername ask your boyfriend.

piarles10 nah but the way I've missed the banter between Pierre and y/n 😭

joleeneei so pretty 🥰

gasleeyy this is pretty much saying they're back together..right, why else would she be in Mexico with kika AND Pierre? 👀

charles_leclerc

liked by y/nusername, arthur_leclerc and 356,891 others

charles_leclerc p1 and my lucky charm ❤️

tagged: scuderiaferrari, y/nusername

y/nusername fier de toi ❤️ (proud of you)

ferraricharles the way I screamed when I saw you at the podium 😭

marlie002 same 😭

ryaanvee fred holding onto y/n like you ain't going nowhere girl 💀

vamoscarloss petition to make y/n ferrari's mascot and sprinkle that luck over the whole ass team

tifosired mom & dad 🥰

marcusss wdc is coming closer and closer 🔥

lekerk_16 always said those two would get back together, that's some soulmate shit 😇

norry4lando soulmates for sure

[my-hyperfixation-stories]

Jealousy, Jealousy

Warnings- Enemies to Lovers, Jealous!Theodore, Hufflepuff!Reader, Secret Dating, Google Translated Italian.

Pairing- Theodore Nott x Hufflepuff!Reader

Summary- For as long as Theo has known y/n they have vowed to be enemies. It was only natural given their house status and friend groups. If word ever got out that the two were romantically involved their friends would go mental. That’s why behind the mask of their undying hatred towards each other they found ways to constantly be alone. This fake act however, seemed to be getting old. The longer it went the more Y/n ceased to care. With Theo urging it to continuing she decides to give him a taste of what he will be missing out on if he let their relationship go public. Will they get caught by their friend group? Will this all come crashing down in the long run?

The eruption of voices in the great hall felt millions of miles away as all of Y/n’s focus yearned to be on one person in particular. Someone who had yet to enter the great hall and satisfy her urges to see him. The voices of Y/n’s friends seemed to be ignored until the volume in which they spoke gradually increased. That was until one in particular seemed to rip Y/n from her thoughts.

“Y/n?.. are you attending or what? You’re the only one yet to answer?” Hannah’s voice questioned staring at her dazed friend who seemed wrapped up in thought.

“Attending what?..” Y/n’s response was soft but laced with confusion earning a few giggles from the group. “The party tonight? Slytherins are hosting one in their common room and decided to invite the other houses. Are you coming with us?” She questioned making Y/n shrug. “I don’t know, the Slytherins don’t seem to fond of us.. are you sure this isn’t some set up?” Hannah just shrugs lamely to the question. “Whatever I might go.. if I can find something to wear..” y/n trails off as her eyes return to scanning the crowd of students.

“I’m going to head back to the dorm.. get me if you have any updates.” Y/n directs Hannah making her nod as she bids farewell to her friend. Y/n’s smile quickly fading as she leaves the group. It didn’t help that the first thing she saw was the very man she had been looking for talking to Daphne Greengrass. Y/n’s brows furrowed into a glare that Theo faintly caught as she exited The Great Hall.

Y/n would give everything for the two of them to be public. She knew her friends would disapprove but if they were truly her friends they would learn to accept him. Theo never seemed to grasp that reasoning as his friends were more hardheaded than Y/n’s. Seeing him with Greengrass made Y/n realize that maybe he was ashamed of her. Why be with a Hufflepuff when there are so many pureblood Slytherins girls roaming the campus. Her mind seemed to betray her as those thoughts swarmed her head. In order to find some escape she made an impromptu turn into the library to help ease the thoughts away.

“What’s with the look?..” She slowed to a stop refusing to turn to him. Not when her mind was heading in the direction it was. “I didn’t give you a look.. I’m just not feeling well Nott.” She could almost feel him cringe at the formal tone to her voice. “Don’t call me that. You don’t call me that unless we are around people.. what’s wrong?.” She finally gave in turning to Theo himself. His face showing clear signs of confusion and worry that almost made her feel bad for him.

“Time and Time again you dismiss of me. I know your reasoning but I can’t help but think there is more to it. I’m not a Pureblooded Slytherin like your friends date. I’m an outlier.. I can’t help but think you’re ashamed of me.” Theo’s eyes falter into shock as she comes clean about her thoughts. “I’m not ashamed of you.” “Then why do you hide me.? If your reasoning is that your friends don’t approve then that there tells me your ashamed by how they would see you with me. I’m done hiding Theo.. especially when I see you talking to those girls so openly not caring what anyone thinks.” His lips form a thin line as he is at a loss for words. “Exactly.. I’m attending the party tonight. If you really care about our relationship you can prove it to me there.. if not then… then this is over between us..” the ultimatum made Theos heart feel as if it was beating at unhealthy speeds. He watched her exit the library with glossy eyes making him feel even worse.

She had spent forever staring into the depths of her closet trying to find the perfect outfit for the occasion. If Theo didn’t approach her she would go to someone else. In order for that tactic to work she was in search for one dress in particular that made her confidence soar whenever she wore it. She grabs her wand waving it to where the dress would reveal itself amongst the piles of clothing. It represented her house showing that even if Theo couldn’t accept her she wasn’t going to give in and change herself.

After putting on the dress she fixed up her hair making herself completely presentable to what she believed to be perfect. All of this confidence seemed to vanish the moment she approached the opening to the Slytherin commons. Everything was silent and she couldn’t help but hate herself. Especially muttering the words that she used earlier to shame herself. “Pureblood..” it came out as a whisper but was enough to open the way into the commons. Th second she entered the silencing spell granted her permission to hear the booming music with voices hidden beneath it.

Almost immediately she made eye contact with Theo. His eyes held nothing but admiration and pain as he took in the full beauty of his girlfriend. Yet she showed no emotion when she rolled her eyes dismissively to go in search of her friends.

“Y/N!!! YOU CAME!!” Hannah cheered wrapping her arms around y/n’s neck pulling out the long awaited smile that she had been needing. “Seeing the common room filled with so many people is odd, it’s usually empty when I’m here!” Y/n points out making Hannah look confused. “You come here often? I didn’t think you knew any Slytherins like that?!” This makes Y/n’s face fall breaking her smile before it returns trying to keep up her act. “I had project with Astoria, she brought me to her dorm a couple of times!” Though it wasn’t a full lie it wasn’t what she was originally referring to.

Hannah’s smiling face turns into a scowl as she looks behind Y/n. She turns to see Theo approaching her. Her heartbeat increased as she kept an unreadable expression. “Nott. Come to bother me again eh?.. you seem to be good at shaming me, at a party is pretty low don’t you think?..” her question seemed to earn a tensing jaw from Theo as he took a breath.

“I know I’ve harmed you in the past.. I’ve come to.. apologize..” he says looking over at her friend who stood right beside Y/n protectively. “You look good..” his eyes showing every emotion possible leaving a stinging sensation in her heart.

Hannah noticed the way they both stared longingly into each others eyes almost hurtfully. “Always the charmer aren’t you Theo. A few words don’t fix everything you’ve done though. Try better I’m not someone you can try and use just because you feel bad.” Y/n walks away without letting Theo respond

“y/n wait.. shit..” he groans making Hannah look skeptical. “What do you want from her? You’re the last person to come up and try to make amends with her.” Hannah says earning a glare from Theo before an idea comes to his head. “I’m going to tell you this if you promise to help me.” He says making her look confused. “Why would I do that? You’re a horrible person.” He winces at the insult but looks at her pleading for help. “What?.. why are you looking at me like that.. fine what is it?..”

He looks around as his heart beats a million miles per hour. “Me and Y/n have been.. been um..” his chest seems to be heaving making Hannah look concerned. “I’m completely inlove with her and I’ve screwed up way too much.. I’m afraid I’m going to lose her and she wants me to prove it but I’m scared of how my friends are going to react but I care for her beyond belief.” He spits out completely shocking Hannah. “I’m lost, what?!” She asks making him look into her eyes showing how serious he is. “I’ve been dating her for about 6months.. this whole enemies thing is a lie.. now I think I’ve lost her and I need your help.”

Y/n had went up to Cedric Diggory not long after her interaction with Theo. “Why do you look so upset?” Diggory was a friend of Y/n’s despite the two being in different years. He was like a big brother to her which is exactly why she went up to him. “This guy.. I just need to get him off of my mind.. he acts like he wants me but never commits fully.. it’s driving me mad.” She admits leaving Cedric skeptical of who this could be about. “Give him an ultimatum to prove himself.” This makes her look even worse. “I have.. but I’m scared he won’t take it.”

“It’s his loss, anyone stupid enough to lose you isn’t worth your time of day let alone thoughts. He’s probably too absorbed in his thoughts to really see you for who you are.” This makes her smile letting her thoughts lift from her mind. “Plus you’re like perfect I’m sure any other guy would praise you.” This comment brings a laugh upon her lips as Cedric smiles down at her. She rests her head on his shoulder taking in a deep breath. “Thank you Cedric.. I needed that.” He gives her a soft smile.

This was until yet again a scowl formed on his face. She turns seeing Theo’s face glaring at Cedric holding everything back from punching his face. “Theo..dore Nott.. why are you following me. Let me breath you’re suffocating me with your presence please.. leave me alone!.. you’ve proven time and time again that I’m not worthy of your presence why torture me with it.” His expression softened when looking at her but quickly grew sour as Cedric placed his hands on her shoulders. “She wants you to leave so leave. No one asked you to be here.” Cedric says with a protective tone that instantly straightened Theo’s spine as he stepped forward. “Get your hands off of her.” This makes Diggory step infront of her challenging Theo’s demand. This action seemed to piss Theo off even more. “Who are you to order me around?..” he says stepping forward making Theo’s eyes show nothing but hate. Y/n started to intervene before the next words left Theo’s lips.

“Her boyfriend. Now back off.” This makes Cedric scoff. “Must be a piece of work if she’s coming to me to forget about you.” This sentence was the thing that broke Theo. His fist quickly met Cedric’s as a full out fight broke out. Mattheo and Draco quickly ran up pulling Theo off as some Hufflepuff beaters stepped in to help Cedric fight. Eventually the two got seperated but that didn’t stop their mouths. “Don’t ever fucking touch her again!!” “Learn how to make her happy and I wouldn’t have to protect her from you!!” “She’s my girlfriend not yours that’s my job!” “Then actually do it you’re not worth it if you don’t prove it!”

The party ended early as Y/n and Hannah stay behind with Mattheo, Draco, Enzo, and Blaise who were all working on calming Theo down. “Who was that even over anyway?? You went mental over some girl?” Mattheo questioned making Theo’s eyes train onto hers. Mattheo went to turn only to be pushed to the side by Y/n who approached Theo. “I’m sorry. I-”

A loud smack rang through the room as some of his friends quietly cursed. Her eyes seemed to be full of anger and sadness leaving him heartbroken. “You don’t get to do that Theo. That’s not what I meant by prove it you asshole!.. Cedric was helping me feel better because you are driving me mad with how idiotic you are!” He goes quiet looking around at his friends.

They all look surprised everything was quiet until Enzo spoke. “If that’s your girl damn..” Theo glares going to argue until Mattheo laughs. “That Hufflepuffs tougher than you bro.” All his friends seem to joke around none really bothered by the fact that the two were dating.

This only left Y/n staring at Theo who looked guilty. “See.. it was always just you..” Her voice wavered as tears threatened to spill. This makes everyone go quiet seeing the tension between the two. Hannah got them to leave the two alone in the commons to sort out whatever was happening. “Cara Mia I’m sorry.. I tried getting your friend to help me but by that time I saw Diggory and.. I lost it. I didn’t care what people thought of me I just wanted him away from you.. forgive me principessa. I’ll prove how sorry I am please..” he begged making her heart beat increase.

“You told Hannah?..” he slowly nods. “Practically begged her to help me.. after basically confessing my love over you she seemed to pity me enough to help.. I should’ve taken her advice and..” his excuse was cut short by y/n’s lips hushing him up. His hand moving up hesitating to touch the back of her head. Everything was so real she didn’t know she was crying until she pulled away.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell them sooner.. they’ve been my mates since I was little I was scared of losing them.. but I think I was more scared of how they would’ve treated you I didn’t think about how I was treating you.. ti amo tanto..” she gives him a small smile before pulling him into a hug. “I love you too.. I forgive you Theo.. I think I was just scared that you didn’t really want me as much as you promised.. which thinking about it now was stupid.. I’m sorry.” “Don’t apologize. That’s only for me to do.. please stay with me tonight.. I don’t want you leaving me for a second.” This makes her laugh earning a loving smile from Theo as he takes in all of her features. “I can’t believe I almost lost the prettiest girl in the world just because I was too stupid to realize everything I had.”