#and I hope matteo is okay

[south-of-heaven]

When will the world let Nikki live in peace?

[aparedes]

— characters: angelia & matteo — setting: morales' body shop & co. — tagging: @matteomorales

Even after all these years, some quarter century after immigrating to the United States, Angelia's mother still had no confidence in driving here. Wilmington was nowhere near as bad as some of the places she'd traveled either. Yet, nine times out of ten, whenever Sonia got behind the wheel something happened.

This time it was a fender bender. Just a bump at a stoplight. From the pictures the voice actress had seen of the incident, the damage was minor. Cosmetic, mostly. Just a dent in a bumper.

When Angelia had gotten out of her car she paused and sighed as her dark eyes panned around for the familiar tall, dark, and handsome owner. Maybe she needed to think about other means of transportation for her mother?

Or maybe she just needed to be more available to assist her when needed.

It wasn't even that Sonia was too old— her reflexes were fine. She could see well, too. The woman just way too much anxiety and got frazzled too easily.

"Your favorite frequent flyer is here," the artist chimed in a sing-song tone. "I was in the area so I figured we could do the estimate face to face. Gotta make sure you're not trying to scam the pretty, dumb brunette," Angelia teased. "You'll have to look me in the eyes to do it, Matty."

[theartdoctor]

Ocean made him feel ways he didn't think he would again. Made him feel ways he swore he didn't want again, there was too much risk that came with feelings like these. When feelings are this high, the fall must always be devastating, right? Looking at Ocean, he hardly remembered swearing off love at all. How could he, when he was looking at him like that? Matteo felt like a child holding hands with their first love on the playground. Pure and all consuming. “We’re both regular ol joes with special minds, looks like we have more in common than we thought.” Matteo jested, punctuating his observation with a small wink. He suddenly regretted that, hoping he didn't look like an idiot for winking. It had been a long time since he had flirted with someone, or even been remotely flirty -- he wasn't even sure if he was doing it right. “I mean sure, but not knowing doesn’t make you a bad person or less than, Ocean.” Matteo is a firm believer that ignorance isn’t inherently bad unless it’s used in malice. And he didn’t think Ocean had even one malicious bone in his body. His analysis was that someone, who he couldn't think about now without his teeth threatening to grit themselves into dust, had made an attempt at trying to change him, to make him someone who was malicious. At least to themselves, if not to anyone else. But their attempts were clearly mostly unsuccessful-- he didn't think he had met someone so sweet before.

It felt nice for Matteo too, to be in the car with him. It was seldom that he yearned to let someone into his life; his car, his office, his home, his mind. It was not something he thought he was interested in, not when he had worked so hard to pull himself out of the trenches. For the first time in a long time, he didn't feel so guarded. When Ocean returned the nickname, Matteo felt so happy he could almost feel his soul jumping from his skin. It was sweet and he really liked the way his mother tongue sounded on Ocean’s lips, even if it wasn’t the best pronunciation — we will work on that he thought to himself. It reminded him of himself when he was first learning English, a parallel so sweet. "Grazie, Ocean." He said. "It definitely suits you better, but I must say there is something about your energy that brings out the softer side in me." He admitted as he stole a quick glance at Ocean, his expression soft and sincere before he turned back to keep his eyes on the road.

In Ocean's studio, he took a step closer to Ocean, finally bringing his gaze to his -- an earnest expression planted on his face. "Hey now, don't say that," his voice was gentle "that's just how you feel. But I see something real and raw in them." Matteo thought for a moment to his own art, which was actually like that of a school aged child; he was never much of an artist himself no matter how hard his father wanted him to be. All of his artistic ability seemingly went to his younger brother who was still in Italy, doing everything that he was supposed to. "Art is about expression, not perfection. Puddles reflect the sky beautifully. They hold their own kind of magic. But it's okay to feel frustrated, every artist feels that way sometimes, don't let that overshadow the work you've done here. You're worth so much more than you think, I promise you."

It was wild the way that Ocean’s kept cycling through his different thoughts and feelings when he was talking with Matteo. It was like his mind wouldn’t let him have this moment, this one moment where he didn’t feel like some giant loser, this moment where he could talk to a handsome man and even flirt with him and touch him. It was like every time Ocean got too comfortable, every time he felt too normal, his jerk of a brain said to him, Oh no, we can’t have this. Sometimes Ocean felt like he would never have anything good, and his brain liked to remind him of that. But then just as quickly, Matteo would pull Ocean out of his funk, would make him smile and blush (in the good way) and feel so light and free. It was a feeling Ocean had nearly forgotten, and now he was afraid of how temporary it most likely was. While he tried to just enjoy the moment, Ocean was already dreading when it would float away on the wind of his life. But Matteo told Ocean that his mind was special, and God, Ocean wanted to believe that. Maybe it was enough for now that Matteo did. Smiling at the older man, Ocean replied softly, “Thank you, Matteo. Your…your mind is special too.” And it really was, no doubt about that. It was definitely more special than Ocean’s, who shrugged and replied, “If it’s a big airport, then shouldn’t I have heard of it?” Sometimes he wondered if commune life had made him sheltered, not that Ocean would change that. 

It was nice being in the car with Matteo, even when they weren’t talking, and Ocean was amazed at how quickly he’d gotten comfortable with this man. It felt like they’d known each other so much longer than an afternoon, at least Ocean thought so, and he liked that. It made it feel like this was meant to be. As soon as he saw the grin on Matteo’s face and the blush on his cheeks, Ocean broke into a smile. Was he the one doing this to the man? Ocean James, making a man flustered? It baffled him, but in the best way, though Ocean’s smile temporarily faded when Matteo explained the meaning of the word. A puppy - Matteo thought he was a puppy. He might as well have called him a baby. But then Matteo explained, and as he did so, Ocean smiled again. Matteo was calling him sweet and cute, and he just felt like he would smile so much his cheeks would hurt. “Thank you,” Ocean replied, his voice quiet. Then his smile (impossibly) grew even bigger as he added, “You’re a…um, cuccuolotto too.” He had no idea if he was saying that correctly, but Ocean didn’t think it mattered; Matteo understood. 

Standing in the middle of his studio near the painting he was working on, Ocean blushed at the other man’s words. “It’s not incredible,” he argued softly. “It’s amateurish. All of this are like what a kid would make in a school art class. I guess I never progressed past that point. Not everyone does.” Why had he thought this was a good idea? Matteo was saying all the right things, but Ocean could t see them. “You’re right that I poured myself into them,” Ocean admitted, “but I didn’t have much to pour I guess. I’m a puddle, remember? I’m not an ocean.” Right now Ocean wanted to burn this room down - okay, not literally, but he wanted to destroy everything here. None of it was worth anything at all. 

[kaciebello]

Hello Bella! How are you? ^.^

I’ve read the prompt requested: “I’m just wondering why we can talk for hours online when you ignore me in real life”

And it was simply the best.

Would you consider /writing/ them talking irl at last?

If not no problem, thank you for reading this message <3

" I’m just wondering why we can talk for hours online when you ignore me in real life "

Slytherin boys genre: humour warning: I don't think so note: sorry for any typos, hope you enjoy it! Masterlist Social media masterlist ☀ Prompt list ☾

Matteo Riddle

Matteo was about to turn the corner when he noticed a familiar face. He stopped in his tracks and weighed his options. And like on a daily basis, he decided to be a menace. Taking a few steps before sitting down. The person next to him was reading a book, paying absolutely no mind to whoever just sat next to them. Hadn't he known her, he would have thought she was ignoring him. 

“Have you ever thought about how weird it is?” His voice made him jump a bit and look at him. Confusion is visibly clear on her face.

“What is?” She asks, his voice small, as if she wanted no one to hear them. Matteo could care less about that.

“How can we talk for hours online? Yet, when you see me face to face, you usually run away.” He says, looking into her eyes now. She's just able to nod and turn her gaze from his. Before he was able to complain again she turned back to him.

“You make me feel like I wanna punch you with a chair.” She says. Matteo just laughs, but when he notices she isn't laughing with him, his face visibly drops. Nodding in acknowledgement he gave it a thought.

“So like a cute aggression?”

“What? NO!”

•·················•·················•

Theodore Nott

He has been holding her hand for like an hour now and she has yet to mumble a single word. He'd been talking her ear off and his hand was starting to get sweaty, but he knew if he let go she would just be bold and it would take him half a day to catch her.

“You know, I talk to you every day.” He says not even looking at her. She has been stuck watching their hands and this has been the first time since she looked at him.

“We talk online every day, but when I try it in person…” He knows he does not have to finish. She is very well aware of her escapee tendencies.

“I’m sorry, you just make me nervous so much that my flight or fight kicks in. And it's usually flight.” She says his fingers not playing with his, her gaze stuck on their hands again. Theo nods again.

“You know I have something that might help.” He says and turns to dig out something out of his bad. Turning around he sees an empty spot next to him and a girl in the distance absolutely bolting it. He just sighs, he hasn't realised he let go of her hand.

•·················•·················•

Draco Malfoy

Draco was quick on his feet. He had seen her turn the corner and he was not going to let that slide. He just sa Potter absolutely eat shit while walking down the stairs and he needed to share it now. Yeah, he could text her, but she's not that fast, he can catch up with her. Turning the corner himself he crashes into somebody. There she stood rubbing her forehead.

“Jesus, can you stop following me? You’ve been on my tail for 3 minutes now.”

“Stop running away then, the fuck.” Draco argues back. She just shakes her head and starts walking again.  Draco doesn't wait and follows.

“You're just weird. Always rushing. Able to talk to me for hours online, but not even a peep in real life. I can't even tell you what is saw without losing my breath.” The girl stops and Draco crashes into her back again. She huffs and turns around.

“What do you have.”

“Okay, so Potter…”

•·················•·················•

Blaise Zabini

Blaise knows what he looks like. His friends know what he looks like. Hell, even people that don’t know him know what he looks like. He made sure of it. So he was sitting down holding the girl's face. Making sure her eyes were on him as if he was trying to burn his face into her mind.

“I'm surprised you can recognize me,” Blaise said, letting go of her when she sweated his arms away. 

“I know plenty of what you look like. You send me enough pictures.” She huffs back at him.

“Yes, yes, that I do. Because somehow we always talk online, and never in real life.” He argues back. The girl just nods. Silence falls on them. He knew she was eating him but he didn't say anything.

“Ya know, I may see your face all the time but I can't hear your voice in pictures.” With that Blaise takes the deepest breath and lets out the longest rant of his life.

•·················•·················•

Lorenzo Berkshire

Lorenzo has told all his friends to meet him for lunch. By all friends, he meant all. So that's why he told the girl to show up 5 minutes early. That way, he could trap her and hot let her go. Now this may seem cruel, but if he didn't do this, he knew the girl would turn around the moment she could see his friends.

So now, he was sitting down, The boys were talking amongst themself. No one was really paying attention to them. His arm was on her thigh, keeping her from jumping up and running away. He leans closer to whisper in her ear.

“You know, you talk a lot online, but in real life, you are rather quiet,” he says and pulls away. She just shakes her head before leaning and whispering back.

“I am just quiet with a lot of people around.” Lorenzo raises his eyebrow and nods again. Slowly he grabs her hand and seemingly sneaks out of the room. He was not gonna miss the opportunity to talk to his favourite person.

Tag list: @klimovatereza-blog , @lafrone ,@enfppuff , @rafegfs , @frogtape , @lovelyygirl8 , @catiwinky, @leeleecats , @ghostgardn , @reverse-soe , @ultramarinetovelvet @jazz-berry , @justatadbonkers , @partnerincrime0 , @schaebickel , @deluluassapocalypse , @adreamingpendulum, @imobsessedwitholiviarodrigo , @happydragonfrog , @harvey-malfoy , @helendeath , @caffeine-addict-slug , @mrvlfanman , @pink-heartz , @feistyfox47 , @nickspotatoesalad

[slytheringangstuff]

𝒞𝑜𝓃𝒻𝑒𝓈𝓈𝒾𝑜𝓃𝓈

𝒯𝒽𝑒𝑜𝒹𝑜𝓇𝑒 𝒩𝑜𝓉𝓉 𝓍 𝐹𝑒𝓂𝒶𝓁𝑒 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇

𝐹𝓁𝓊𝒻𝒻

𝒲𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉: 𝟣.𝟣𝓀

𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈: 𝓃𝑜𝓃𝑒

𝒮𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎: 𝒲𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝓎/𝓃 𝒽𝒶𝓈 𝓉𝑜 𝓅𝒶𝓉𝒸𝒽 𝒯𝒽𝑒𝑜 𝓊𝓅 𝒶𝒻𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝒶 𝒻𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓇𝒹 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓌𝑒𝑒𝓀 𝑒𝓂𝑜𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝓈 𝓈𝓊𝓇𝒻𝒶𝒸𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓃𝒻𝑒𝓈𝓈𝒾𝑜𝓃𝓈 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝓂𝒶𝒹𝑒.

𝐼'𝓂 𝓈𝓉𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝓃𝑒𝓌 𝓉𝑜 𝓌𝓇𝒾𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓈𝑜 𝓅𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓈𝑒 𝒷𝑒 𝓀𝒾𝓃𝒹! 𝒪𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝐼 𝒽𝑜𝓅𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝑒𝓃𝒿𝑜𝓎 <𝟥

“You’re an idiot, you know.” y/n sighed, her back turned to Theo, as she searched for the first aid kit that she used far too much. Theo leaned on the bathroom door frame, arms crossed, and smiled softly at y/n. No matter how mad she was with him, she always made sure he was okay, which was more often than not recently. 

“You know, it’s not that bad, Tesoro.” He smirked as she paused, taking out the kit. It’s just a scratch, but I appreciate the concern.” At this, she turned around so fast she could have gotten whiplash, he thought, his expression changing to a more startled one. 

“You are not fine!” y/n snaps. Her voice was full of anger, yet her eyes showed the hurt and concern she felt. “Theo, this is the third time this week I’ve had to patch you up!” She scolded in disbelief. “It’s Thursday! Matteo has been in fewer fights this month than you have this week! Matteo! How is he more controlled than you!? HOW?! I mean, you won’t even tell me why! I don’t get it Theo!” He opened his mouth to speak, but Theo couldn’t think of anything to say; all he could do was stand there and listen, wincing whilst trying to ignore the throbbing in his head.

Noticing this, y/n sighed, calming herself enough to focus on fixing his injuries. There weren’t many, but she knew him well enough to know that he was in pain. 

“Come here.”

Walking towards her, he gives her an apologetic look before lifting her up onto the counter, the start of a routine that was almost second nature to them both by now. He stood between her legs, hands resting on her thighs, rubbing soothing shapes in hopes of helping her relax. Carefully, y/n lifted her hand to his chin so she could begin to inspect the damage fully. Slight cuts and bruising to his nose, cheek, and lip, and the worst being on his forehead; whoever he fought must have had rings, she thought. Taking a closer look at his nose told her he had once again broken it for the fourth time that month, but to her relief, it was easily fixable. Seeing this, Theo smiled, only to immediately wince, closing his eyes. The burning sensation was a painful reminder of his split lip. 

Frowning, she reached for her wand and pointed it at his nose. “Episkey.”

Gasping, he jolted back, his hand moving to his nose. Hissing in pain, he shot y/n a look that can only be described as betrayal while she giggled. “What happened to a warning?” he asked, still holding his now-fixed nose. "What happened to ‘no more fights’?”

“You know I don’t go looking to fight someone. I have my reasons.” Opening an alcohol wipe, she sighed. "With the amount of times I’ve patched you up this week, it wouldn’t surprise me if you were walking around with a ��fight me’ sign on.” She smiled lightly as he chuckled. “This’ll sting,” she warned. “But you know that by now.”

Theo groaned, teeth clenching, as Y/N cleaned his cuts, paying close attention to the one on his forehead. She giggled quietly as she placed four butterfly stitches on the cut to help it close and heal. “What’s so funny?” he questioned, wondering what had lightened her mood.

“You’re lucky the cut isn’t deep; otherwise, you’d look like Harry Potter 2.0.” She teased. Hearing this, he gasped, hand flying to his chest so dramatically it rivalled Draco’s reactions. “How dare you say such cruel things!” Trying to cry, he ‘sobs’ out, “To say I look like that prick is to say I have been so horribly disfigured; you may as well end me now!” Trying to control her laughter, y/n chokes out. “You-you are-“ Theo interrupted, “Beautiful, a genius, immensely talented-“ She stopped him. “An idiot!” Seeing him pout, she continued. “But… you’re my idiot, and I wouldn’t trade you with anyone in the world.” 

“Liar.” y/n leans back, offended. “How exactly am I a liar? Who on earth would I replace you with?”

“I’ll give you one name.” She gestures for him to continue. “Tom Hiddleston.” She smiles wide, her head tilting back with laughter before wheezing out. “Okay! But… you’ve said the same to me about Ryan Reynolds!” Laughing with her, he yields. “Fine, but can you blame me?” “No, but you can’t blame me either.” Theo holds his hands up in surrender. “No, I cannot.”

Theo’s eyes soften as she finishes cleaning him up.

“It was about you.” Confused, y/n looked into his eyes. “What was about me?” He takes a breath, looking away, before answering.

“The fights. You'd be sick if you heard half of the things those boys said about you.” Looking into her eyes, he continues. “Pansy and Draco told me last week they were bothering you, and I’ve been keeping an eye on them since. I can’t and I won’t let them show such disrespect towards you amore, simply because they will never be able to have you.” Anxiously he waits for y/n to respond, her face a mixture of emotions that even he struggled to read. 

Her eyes glistened with tears as she tried to speak through the lump in her throat. “I understand why you did it, and I’m… I don’t know.” She pauses, taking a deep breath. “It feels good to-to know that you’ll stand up for me even when I’m not there. And I’m so grateful for that, but I don’t want you to keep getting hurt because of me. I love you so much; I hate seeing you in pain, Theo. I can handle it. I promise.”

Pulling her to his chest, Theo presses a kiss to her head. “I knew you'd feel guilty, so I didn’t want you to know. You do understand that I’d take a thousand wounds if it meant keeping you safe or defending you, right?" He holds her closer to him, if possible. Not waiting for an answer, he continues. “When you love something, you protect it. And I love you more than anything in this world. You’re the reason I get out of bed amore mio.”They hold each other for what feels like years before Theo speaks. “You said you love me… for the first time.” He feels her smile on his chest before she pulls away enough to meet his eyes. “So did you.”

[theartdoctor]

Matteo tilted his head, playful glint in his eyes “An aspiring ghost? That sounds concerning, should I be concerned?” he asked lightheartedly as he leaned against the tree and looked over at him.

His eyes followed to the scene he was gesturing to and he nodded in agreement “Yeah I can see that, the calm before the storm.” One of his favorite American idioms. He had adopted many over the years, most of which he would parrot in social situations and feel quite pleased with himself for understanding the nuance of the language.

He thought that the other man had been facetious about it being a perfect backdrop for a horror novel. But with his comment about writing — he realized he probably did write horror novels. Matteos brows raised briefly in surprise and his gaze shifted back to him. Now that's interesting. “You’re an author? I can see that now, you've got that necessary misanthropic air about you.”

Matteo shrugged his shoulders casually, pushing one hand into his jeans pocket. “I thought I spied a kindred spirit over here and judging by the fact that you’re actually talking to me and not telling me to fuck right off tells me I might have been right.”

Puck raised an eyebrow, a smirk curling at the corners of his lips. “Lost soul by the oak, huh? Well, if trees do have ears, I can assure you they’ve heard far more gripping tales than mine.” He leaned a little more comfortably against the rough bark, allowing the weight of Matteo's presence to seep into the air between them. “I’d like to think I’m just here for a quiet moment of misery—an aspiring ghost mapping out places to haunt”

He gestured toward the lively park, taking in the families, dogs, and the carefree laughter that floated on the breeze. “You can practically taste the nostalgia in the air, can’t you? A perfect backdrop for a horror novel, perhaps.”

Puck glanced sideways at Matteo, intrigued by his easy demeanor. “And what brings you to this particular oak? Surely there are other, less melodramatic trees to lean against.” He allowed a pause. “I think I’ve written enough about haunted places to have a few lingering spirits of my own. But maybe I’m just too good at conjuring the darkness.” Puck's gaze drifted back to the park, where the life around them seemed to pulse with its own kind of magic. “What about you? Are you here to face your own ghosts?"

[chrisevansonly]

Oooh, what about a holiday just for Charles and Matteo, toddler and father spending time together during a week of holiday just wuth them two? 💖

𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝐄𝐯𝐞 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 (𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐤𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐮)

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐜 𝐱 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐨 𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐜

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: it’s tradition for charles and matteo to hit the slopes every christmas eve, and you didn’t mind letting your boys have their fun

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: none, very fluffy sweetness

𝐚/𝐧: merry christmas eve!! here’s a little karter blurb for christmas eve!! i love this family so much, and i hope you enjoy🤍

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

Your boys were all packed and ready to make the drive to the airport in Nice, the two of them off to ski and snowboard in France for the day. It had been a Christmas Eve tradition for the two of them, while you had Charlotte over to bake and cook with you.

Christmas eve dinner was always at your home, and Christmas day was at Pascale’s in order to split the holiday duties! Matteo was excited to go skiing with his father, well he preferred to snowboard.

“Okay my loves, be safe and have fun!” you said kissing Charles gently and handing him some snacks for the airplane, turning to kiss Matteo’s forehead

“Matteo, n’oubliez pas d’écouter papa, d’accord?” (matteo, don’t forget to listen to daddy)

He nodded

“Oui Maman!! Je t’aime!!” (yes mom, i love you)

Smiling you walked them to the door

“I love you too baby, i’ll see you tonight”

Charles nods, grabbing the last of their things

“See you tonight amour, I love you”

Once the two of them were out the door you pulled your phone out and called Charlotte, the baking and cooking fiasco about to commence.

-

Charles and Matteo arrived arrived to the ski hill around mid morning, the two of them excited to hit the slopes and get out into the sun.

“Papa can we do that hill first?” Matteo said excitedly, pointing to the red circle hill to the left

“You want to start with a harder hill petit prince?”

Matteo nodded

“Oui Papa!!” (yes daddy)

Who was Charles to say no to his little boy who was so eager to get to snowboarding, up they went, Matteo giggling the entire chairlift up, happy to be back in the snow.

Once they got to the top of the mountain Charles noticed his son stop, his hands wringing together in his mitts, eyes a little wide, he could see his anxiety from a mile away so he was quick to sit next to him, ski’s at his side

“Qu’est-ce qui ne va pas, bébé?” His voice soft as he softly pinched Matteo’s cheek, causing the little boy to smile and scrunch his face (what’s wrong baby?)

“C’est plus effrayant que je ne le pensais papa…” he responded, looking at his father (it’s scarier than i thought daddy..)

“Hmm well do you want to try it anyway or do you want to go down to the blue hill?”

Matteo stayed quiet, really wanting to be brave and show his father he could do it, he was tired of only snowboarding down the blue hills

“I want to try it papa”

Charles couldn’t help but feel proud of Matteo for wanting to try it despite the slight anxiety he’d been feeling once they arrived at the top of the mountain

“Okay then, remember how to slow down, and if you need to stop you stop if you need too, I promise i’ll go down with you the whole way”

Matteo nodded before getting up and taking off down the hill, moving at his own pace as he took on the harder hill, navigating around bumps and tree’s. Charles not far behind him, keeping an eye on the little boy to make sure he was okay.

They’d only stopped one time on the hill before making it to the bottom, Matteo squealing happily

“Je l’ai fait papa!!! Tu m’as vu?!” (i did it daddy! did you see me?!)

Charles laughed nodding his head as Matteo waddled over still attached to his snowboard to hug his legs

“Tu as réussi petit prince! Je suis si fière de toi” (You did little prince, i’m so proud of you!)

Matteo smiled hugging Charles’s legs a little tighter, happy at the praise he was receiving

“Can we go again?” came his voice, muffled from his fathers sweatpants

“Of course we can Teo…let’s go”

Charles loved these little traditions with Matteo, getting able to take him skiing and letting him experience fun holiday activities like this is something he was so grateful for. Matteo loved these just as much, and the two of them knew as soon as they’d arrive home, the family would be waiting and they could finally have some of your famous gingerbread cookies, the best way to end the Christmas Eve ski day.

No two people were bigger gingerbread fans than your boys, and you can never skip out on a cookie after hitting the slopes all day…

[slytherinsrule89]

Mattheo x stripper reader please🫠

It's going to be really hot when Matteo hires you to dance for him, and he ends up falling in love with you 😏

Okay I was actually so excited when I saw this one because damnnn. I just love it. Here you go lovely 🥰

Smut ahead ⚠️ Beaware

Mattheo had been coming to the same strip club for a while now. He enjoyed the music, decoration, and the drinks as well.

But his favourite thing about the place was you. You were of course a stripper there, the absolute best in his mind.

The way your body moved kept him in a trance that he didn’t even want to get out of.

He knew your schedule inside and out just so that whenever he came he could see your beautiful body swaying and grinding to the beat.

You enjoyed every bit of his company too. Mattheo was respectful, paid well, and boy was he good looking.

You were used to most older guys coming in and making comments, you knew that came with the job.

But it was certainly refreshing to see someone like him walk in just to see you.

Today was just like any other shift, it was a Friday night and quite busy but you were getting tired for sure.

Sitting in one of the break rooms having a drink of water your manager comes in telling you someone hired you to dance in one of the private rooms.

You sighed as your break was cut off but got up anyway and checked your makeup heading to the room.

A fake smile made its way on your face hoping that you’d get better tips because of it, and most times you were right.

When you open the door of the nearest private room, your insides boil with excitement seeing who it was who hired you.

“Hello Mr. Riddle.” You spoke seductively with that knowing smirk stretched across your face.

“Good evening gorgeous, here to give me a show?” He was cheeky and he knew it, but it was something you grew to enjoy.

The smirk stayed on your face as the music played and you walked up to the pole gliding your hands on it.

He sat watchfully on the chair in front of you. Drink in hand, his eyes never leaving his prey.

It wasn’t long before he beckoned you over to stand in front of you. And just as he was about to hold your hips you stopped him.

“You remember the rules don’t you? That costs extra.” The cockiness in your voice made him chuckle before he nodded to the corner of the room.

You curiously looked over before your eyes widened at the bag full of way more money than you’ve ever seen in your lifetime. And that says a lot.

Before you could say anything he pulled you forward, onto his lap. “That’s all yours princess, just as long you promise to give me your best.”

You have never agreed to anything as fast as you just did.

It wasn’t long before you were dancing on his lap, just like he asked, giving it your best. I held back small noises as you began to feel him grow underneath you.

“Such a pretty girl you are huh? Always flaunting that body of yours around, wish I could just keep it all to myself.”

He had been saying those types of things all night. You were surprised that he didn’t feel how sopping wet he made you just by his words.

Mattheo’s hands trailed their way down your waist before gripping your hips, stopping all your movements. Your tits were practically in his face, the lingerie set you were wearing not covering much.

“You're gonna be a good girl and ride me sweetheart? Bet you're so wet for me already aren’t you?”

Your knees would’ve buckled if you weren’t already sitting down on his lap, but you nodded quickly wanting nothing more at the moment.

“I need the words princess.” “Please let me ride you.”

Satisfied at your answer he tapped your hip signaling you to stand up for a moment. As you did his fingers came down to his belt, smoothly unbuckling it and slipping it off.

“Do the rest for me, will you, princess?” You walked over unzipping his pants almost drooling at the outline of his cock.

He raised his hips allowing you to pull down both his pants and boxers. You knew he’d be big but damn. That was a lot more than you’d expected.

Mattheo noticed your reaction and chuckled. “You think you can handle me? Gonna ruin that pretty cunt aren’t I?” He took my jaw in hand as he spoke with that pantie dropping smirk on his face.

Before you knew it he had picked you up, placing you right back on his lap and moving the lace at your core to the side.

His tip teasing your folds and clit, having to beg for him to put it in.

“Matty please, I wan-“ You were cut off by Mattheo shoving every inch into you without warning. A loud moan ripping from the bottom of your throat as he did so.

“Come on pretty slut, ride my cock like the hood girl you are.”

Doing as you’re told you lifted yourself up before slowly pushing back down, your head tipping back.

Soon you had a quick rhythm going that had you and a moaning and whimpering mess in his lap. Your eyes rolled back at the sound of a deep groan that left him.

“Good girl, just like that. You can go faster right?” Wanting to please him you did exactly that and started bouncing faster on him.

It started becoming a bit uneven as you chased your high, getting desperate for more.

“Mmm good good, come on princess cum on my cock, come on give it to me.”

His words sent you over the edge, moaning out his name as your pussy clenched around him.

Mattheo pulled out, stroking his cock a few times before his cum spurted all over your stomach and tits.

“Good girl, so pretty aren’t you? Just covered in all my cum. You’re mine. All mine.” Your brain to fucked out to answer nodded right away agreeing to probably anything he’d ask.

Hope you enjoy :)

[begsfor]

“    i'm     not     expecting     anything     ,     it's     not     about     what     i     want     to     hear     but     about     how     you     actually     feel     ,    ”     she     counters     ,     trying     not     to     get     shaken     by     those     three     words     ,     but     her     heart     betrays     her     when     it     skips     a     beat     and     bambi     eyes     stare     at     him     .     “    you     do     ?     i     mean     ,     do     you     really     love     me     or     are     you     just     saying     what     you     think     i     want     to     hear     ?    ”

"  what  are  you  expecting  me  to  say  ?  "  rests  his  elbows  on  the  bar  top  ,  staring  across  at  her  as  conviction  lines  his  features  .  "  that  i'm  in  love  with  you  ?  those  are  the  last  words  you'd  want  to  hear  from  me  ,  trust  me  .  "

[itsalwaysteatimeinwonderland]

Finding Peace Pt.8: Safe (Spike x y/n)

Request: No. Part 8 of the Multi Fic.

Summary: Spike continues to search with y/n but the obstacles keep piling up. Will he have to make the ultimate sacrifice?

TW: None

Word Count: 1.7k

Previous | Next

*I apologize for taking so long. Big girl job got in the way. Enjoy!*

---------------------------------------------------------------------

"What would it take?" Spike's words kept ringing in your head. You laid in bed, disconnected and wondering. You knew what it would take, a soul. For him to have humanity, connection, love. All the things that a vampire was incapable of. You could never ask him for that. A price too heavy to pay. A journey too perilous to take. Your thoughts are interrupted by a knock at the door. You run to it hoping it’s Spike. Hoping he has come to his senses and he's ready to make amends. I mean, it's been a week now. 

You open the door to see Matteo. Matteo never knocks. 

Before you can ask he barges in, "I need to talk to you."

"Okay..."

"I've been thinking... about us. About this" he points between the two of you. "And it doesn't make sense to me anymore."

"I’m confused. What part doesn't make sense? Our agreement hasn't changed."

"You're right but... you can't tell me you haven’t felt things. Things that make you want more?" He looks at you, hopeful. 

Your eyes sadden, you close yourself off. "Matteo, our agreement hasn't changed. I already explained the circumstances. I can't give you more."

Angered, Matteo growled. "But you can give more to the vampire?"

You're taken aback by his reaction. You stand your ground. "Whatever I have with Spike is ours to deal with. You and I made a pact and if it no longer serves you, we can end it."

Matteo is angry, cornered. This is not how he wanted it to go. "Is there a chance? Any at all, between us?"

You walk closer to him, placing your hand to his cheek. You look him in the eyes stern but caring. "No."

He is defeated, heartbroken. Like a wounded animal he retreats from your touch. "I guess that's that, then."

Matteo walks out of your house, quiet and hurt. You stand there, alone and desolate. First Spike and now Matteo. Everyone has left you and you are in ruins once more. You close the door and pick up the pieces of your heart. 

Two weeks have passed and no Spike. You start to give up hope. You feel tempted to go to his crypt, find him and apologize, beg, reason, anything. But you stand broken and alone. This is how it must be. Cursed slayers don't get happy endings. You continued your pattern of getting up, hunting, sleeping and repeating. 

One morning you walk into your porch, enjoying the warmth. Sunny Sundays alleviate the pain. You never get letters because you have no one to care for you but you decide to check your mailbox for shits and giggles. A note is inside. When you open it one thing is scribbled on it. 

"Wait for me." 

No signature or return address, but your heart knew it came from Spike. Your breath gets caught in your throat; tears prickle your eyes. You don't know how long the notes has been there. You don't know how long you will wait, but waiting was your only hope. 

A month has passed and with every day you have grown tired and anxious. You feel like you're about to explode. You've been diligent in staying in your lane, being patient and waiting for him. But your skin itched, and your thoughts ran a mock. You decide to have a quick nap to calm your nerves, like you have done every day since Spike was gone. You hoped to find an escape in the dream world. 

A dimly lit room and the smell of wisteria appears. A soft whisper is heard in the distance. Laughter. Two people enamored and connected in bed. A sigh of pleasure. Your hands roam the man's body in desire. Your mouth trailed kisses from his neck to his chest. His body never slowing down, pinning you down. You felt free in his bondage, in his care. Your body submissive and pliant to his touch. Spike never slowed down as he thrust inside you, thirsty and focused. He mumbled sensual and dirty things into your ear, making you tighten around him. You craved more. You wanted him whole. As he surrendered his body, his essence into you, your body contracted and coiled in pleasure. You begged for release. He teased you, wanting to keep you like this, breedable and his. You felt the air leave your lungs as his thrusts became slower, longer as if teasing your release, coaxing it out. Grasping at his back, the sheets, the pillow, anything, you find your release. A fast crash that leads your body to convulse in pleasure. Spike rides out your climax giving you more to scream about. As you come down from your high you beg him to climax inside of you, to have the ultimate union of vulnerability. As he thrusts inside of you his speech becomes incoherent, a sign that he was close. He bites down with his regular teeth on your shoulder, brandishing you, making you his. His thrusts become sloppy and inconsistent until he climaxes groaning into your neck. You both lay there in the aftermath, holding hands. Proud of what you made. You turn to him, and he's gone. You're left naked and alone. You try to get up but can't. You twist and turn, twist and turn. 

You wake up with a gasp. You're sweating and aroused. These dreams were a reoccurrence for you. A pattern of torture. You decide you've had enough. You've been either on auto pilot with your routines or escaping in your sleep. You decide to find Spike. You don't know where he is, but you were going to start at his crypt. 

When you arrive at Spike's crypt you knock. No answer. You're confident that he's not in his crypt but you barge in anyway. Cobwebs everywhere, at least more than usual. You call out to him as you descend into his room. The bed is a mess, but it looks like no one has slept in it for a long time. You wander around, touching everything, reminiscing on his touch. You give up and come back up, a demon friend of Spike is sitting on the couch. He must have gotten in while you were lost in your nostalgia. 

He looks up, scared "Spike's gone. I already told you. I can't pay his debt." 

You calm him down and assure him you're not there to collect a debt. 

"Where is he?" You ask.

"He didn't say. He just said that he'd be back and to not get too comfortable." He looked downcast. 

You sigh and bid the demon goodbye. Spike was really gone. He wasn't avoiding you; he was just gone. You decide to get some hunting in before daylight.

Another month passes by and no Spike. Whatever he was up to, it was sure intense. 

Buffy asks you to accompany her to the basement of the school. 

"Something wiggy has been happening down there and I'd like some back up." She said. 

You assent and follow her to the school basement. Everything is quiet, too quiet. You both share a knowing look and get ready for a fight. Suddenly a muttering is heard. Low, incoherent. You both approach the sound and find a man slumped over, covered and small. 

"Spike!" You call to him. He doesn't move, still muttering to himself. 

You crouch down, hoping to get his attention. He looks up, eyes wild and unfocused. 

"Are you my executioner?" He whispered.

You furrow your brow, what an odd thing to say. "It's me y/n. Why are you down here?"

He is unable to answer coherently. His words are jumbled and nonsensical. You look at Buffy, asking for help. Together you both ease him up and help him stand straight. He pushes both of you away. 

"Cursed. Cursed. Cursed." He repeats to himself. 

"Um, yes. That's me. Can we get out of here? Take you somewhere less weird?"

He shakes his head. "This is where I belong." And he takes off deeper into the basement. Before you can run after him, Buffy holds you back. 

"Let him go. He's not part of tonight's fun." 

You sigh and nod and continue to search the basement for possible danger. After hours of searching nothing seemed out of place. You both retreat. 

"Sorry for bringing you down for nothing." Buffy says. 

"No worries. You had a hunch and we followed it." You respond. 

"Well, let's call it a night."

Buffy heads down her street and you walk down yours. As soon as Buffy was out of sight you bolted to the school focused on finding Spike. 

When you arrive at the basement you commence your hunt. It becomes rather difficult to find him but you follow the muttering. Like a low hum of consistent arguing. When you find him he is standing, facing a wall. You gently place your hand on his shoulder, and he reacts violently, holding you against the wall.

“Spike, it’s me.” You say calmly.

It takes spike a couple of minutes to register who he is talking to. “You shouldn’t have come for me.” He says coherently.

“I had to. This place is not your home.”

“Home is nowhere. It is unreachable. Home is with her.”

You contort your face in disgust. Of course he’s talking about Buffy again. It’s you that’s come for him but all he can think of is Buffy.

“Spike, come home with me. Let me care for you.” You reach out to him.

He stands there. Hesitant. He refuses to make eye contact, but he takes your outstretched hand. “Please.” He whispered.

You didn’t know what he was asking for but you knew that you couldn’t let him rot away in the school’s basement. You walked him home with you.

Spike was in a fog. Torture and pain in his heart. He knew what he must do but his words failed him. To touch you was to find respite. However, he couldn’t ask you for more. He didn’t know how. He was afraid you’d turn him down again. For today he chose to be rescued. For today he chose to go with you. Just for today, he chose to be safe.

[soulc-hilde]

Game Shakers / Pt. 4

Pairing: Eminem x OFC! King

Warning(s): Cursing, drug abuse, racial discrimination, sexual assault

Summary: 2000s seemed to be quite the highlight between the fashion and the rise of pop culture. Seemingly the new faces of shock value, rapper Marshall Mathers and rockstar King Woods seem to find a common ground amongst the unnecessary bullshit.

Divider by @saradika-graphics I believe that's the name, I hope so cause it took me some time to track it down

Ch. 01 | Ch. 02 | Ch. 03 | Ch. 04 |

2000

The night of the Grammys is much like any other night at an award show. You walk down the carpet, get blinded by the paparazzi, answer pointless questions, sit for prolonged periods of time just to watch yourself and everyone else be screwed over, party, and kill yourself.

Well, maybe that last part was a bit extreme, but there was no denying that was how King felt about the shit. They leave with a Best Hard Rock Performance for You Spin Me Round and Best Pop Performance by a Duo or Group with Santana for Maria Maria thanks to the band’s collab with King. Unlike before, Matteo directs security to drive the group back home per their request.

More pleased to celebrate with each other than two-faced strangers, the sextet sits around the living room of Harley’s house conversing and sipping glasses of wine. Everything was going swell until the party host glances King’s way with indescribable yet daunting glare.

“Speaking of love,” she drags out, teasingly. “Looks like Cupid’s arrow hit the bullseye on someone.” King scrunches her nose, “if it was a bullseye, it’d technically be anal, and I think an arrow is a little outside of my boundaries.”

The group laughs as the lead vocalist neither denies or confirms the obvious affection growing between her and a certain blond. Maliyah jokes, “why do I get the feeling that you’d much prefer someone than a something?”

King shrugs, “I mean, I wouldn’t complain. I got to see it.”

As if all five friends were Bluetooth synced, they sit up and shout: “You got to what?!” Their eyes bulge out of their skulls, jaws dropping to the floor.

Matteo gulps, recollecting himself as the brotherly figure. “Okay, okay. Whoo, run that by us again? You got to see… it. What precisely is ‘it’?” His onyx eyes glare up at the nonchalant singer.

“His dick.” She answers, her voice echoing against her Moscato filled wine glass. Dramatically, Tink jumps over the back of the couch with a scream as she runs down the main hall behind the living room before coming back, past the group and into the kitchen.

“When was this?” Harley laughs, tan face turning hot with amusement. “When we left the MTV after party.” Breathless and tipsy, Iris throws a couch pillow at her friend with a cry: “Stop giving us short answers, bitch!”

Tink calms down, flipping over the back of the couch once again, stiff as a board. Panting, she adds on, “we need details. A, a – what was that middle school bullshit from English? A who, where, when, what, and how.”

Maliyah claps her hands, nodding, “please! We already have the who -” The others chime in unison, “Marshall and King.” She continues, “the when –“

“MTV Awards.”

“And the what –“

“King got front row tickets to this man’s penis!” The forementioned woman snorts, chewing on her Doritos and tuna salad.

“So, all we need now is the where and the how. Now, give us.”

“Fine,” she sighs, a subtle blush setting on her cheeks. “So, after we left that shitty party together –“

2019

“Wait, let’s rewind it back. Em showed you his dick but y’all never got down like that?”

“Curtis,” King side eyes him, bemused. “Please. You already know this, man.”

The childish rapper shrugs, smiling, “hey. I’m just amazed at how y’all two function, especially when y’all were single but pining after one another. It’s cute. It’s cute.”

“It’s cute?” “Yeah…” She snorts, “shut the fuck up. Anyways!”

2000

“We first agreed on getting McDonalds cause, ya know, a sugar mama’s gotta take care of her baby, now,” she jokes, breaking at the sight of Harley’s glare. “You’re older than him by like two fucking weeks, shut up!”

“Anyways! We get some food, we’re talking and we’re joking. We then talk about our kids, well, more like his seed and my angelic niece and nephew.” Matteo deadpans, “not you lying to this man like your family doesn’t raise menaces to society.”

King looks at him, feigning insulted, “we are not menaces.” Tink nods, “yeah, you’re a damn fiend.” The others laugh while she glares, holding back her own laugh.

“Can I finish, damn!” She huffs, “so we’re talking about the babies. He’s raving on about his little girl, shows me a picture and she is like his damn twin it’s adorable. Then he starts telling me how she’s a fan of ours, I tell him that mine are fans of his. Fast forward, we’re venting, now.”

A glaze of melancholy takes over her once amused gleam, “he’s venting about his baby moms and how she likes to use his daughter in a power trip and constantly cheats on him to the point where instead of seeing it as a dealbreaker, he decides to cheat on her right back. I’m venting my sister and shit, I damn near felt like I was in therapy.”

“Once we had trauma bonded, I guess we felt understood between each other. Like we weren’t the only ones living in this fucked up world where nothing goes right for us. So, we kissed and made out way to my house.”

Harley’s eyes widen, “you let that man in your house?” Iris looks at King with concern, “it took you damn near three years to let Brother Dre even know that you have a house in Cali, let alone step inside.”

“Yeah, yeah, I fucked up alright. We were touching and rubbing, whispering little compliments to each other. It was damn near romantic. Then he saw some of my tattoos and my nipple piercings, so he showed me his tattoos. We got so tired, we just laid out on my bed cuddling and look at each other, studying one another.”

“Dude,” Tink draws, lost in thought. Matteo looks over, “have you talked to him since?”

“Yeah, a lot, actually. Hell, in the morning, we woke up and I made this man breakfast and some coffee. He’s adorable when he’s happy, he does little dance when he likes the food.”

Harley throws her head, “you’re trying to be this man’s wife.” King throws a Dorito at her, “no, I’m not. I feed everybody, it’s a cultural curse. Y’all, out of everybody, knows this… Even Iris, she’s the token white girl.”

“Ya dig,” the strawberry blond sings, causing the crew to laugh once more. Maliyah focuses back onto King, “regardless, King, we can be this man’s friend. However, as you said, he and his baby mama got drama the size of a category 5 hurricane. As you’ve said in the past, you’ve come too far to let some man, some pointless drama stop you from your dreams.”

Matteo nods, “true. We’ll support you in whatever you do, but we beg you, please, just be careful.” Harley adds, “you’ve been through a lot and deserve happiness, just don’t mistake an adrenaline rush for said happiness.”

2019

“Do you think opening up to the group changed the way they looked at Marshall, like at all?”

King sits up in her chair, head shaking. “No, instead, they kind of saw him in a similar light as we all seen each other. We as friends came together because of the shitty cards life threw at us, and we became support pillars for one another before we became business partners. To them, Marshall is a friend their willing to support and stand ten toes down for.”

“Marshall says that, that night after the MTVs wasn’t the night he fell in love with you. Did you fall in love with him that night? Or, was there a different moment that you were just like ‘he’s the one for me?’”

She hisses, head tilting in thought. “I wouldn’t say that was the night I fell in love with Marshall. I would say that I got to see him in a different light, ya know? It wasn’t like some, ‘oh I can fix him’ type shit but more of a twin flame ordeal, if that makes sense.”

“You really believe that Marshall Mathers was made for you?”

“I believe everyone has someone made for them. Platonically or romantically, everyone has a person and he’s mine. Always been mine since day one.” She smiles.

Taglist: @slytherinroyalty16 @evasmlp

Y'all, chapter 4 is here and it's so fucking bad! I apologize for the tardiness as well as the shitty material. I was thinking about doing like a one shot or something about King and Marshall's night, I don't know. Anyways, enjoy and let me know if you wish to join the taglist.

Love, S.C!

[tessa-liam]

Turning the Page

Come Back to Me  Chapter 12 

Choices, The Royal Romance, AU 

Series Premise: As Riley Brooks journeys through life as a single parent in New York City, an epiphany strikes as she contemplates the future for herself and her two-year-old son. 

Turning the Page Series Masterlist My Complete Masterlist 

Main pairing: Liam Rys x F!OC Riley Brooks 

AAll characters belong to Pixelberry Studios, except William Brooks (Rys) and Matteo Magro, who both belong to this series. 

Category: On-going series, contains angst/fluff/depression. Cross-over fic with Choices, Perfect Match. 

Rating: M 🔞 - Warnings – Series will contain crude language, weapons, NSFW material – not Beta’d - please excuse all errors. 

Words: 3331 

Come Back to Me, Chapter 12 

Chapter Summary: As Liam and Riley’s visit continues in Lythikos, they are joined by guests from the Capital. 

Music & Title Inspiration: Come Back to Me, David Cook 

A/N1: A/N1: In this alternate universe, after King Constantine orchestrates two individual scandals to humiliate and entrap Riley Brooks and Olivia Nevrakis in shame, Madeleine Amaranth secures her position as the Queen of Cordonia. Riley, as the King’s mistress and Olivia, in self-imposed exile. Tariq is never found.  

A/N2: Damien Nazario has been assigned as William’s personal bodyguard. (Series cross-over with ‘Perfect Match’) 

‘...and when you see what you need to see 

When you find you 

Come back to me 

...and I hope you find everything that you need 

I’ll be right here waiting to see 

You find you 

Come back to me...’ 

Lythikos, Cordonia 

Liam and Olivia sat together in the cozy sitting room of Nevrakis Chateau, their hands wrapped around steaming cups of dark roast Cordonian coffee. Through the large bow windows, they could see gentle flakes of snow falling from the sky, blanketing the landscape in a soft, pristine white. 

The room was adorned with rich, dark wood furnishings, plush sofas and armchairs arranged around a crackling fireplace that emitted a warm glow. Paintings depicting scenic landscapes, adding to the ambiance of comfort and luxury tastefully decorated the walls.

Mischa and Zeus, Olivia’s malamutes, were vigilantly sitting at their mistresses’ feet as she and Liam conversed in hushed tones, their voices blending harmoniously with the peaceful surroundings. Occasionally, the king and duchess would pause to gaze out at the snowfall, admiring the beauty of nature's quiet spectacle as they awaited the arrival of their guests in the early morning.

"I appreciate you taking the time to spend with Riley." Liam smiled warmly; his cup of coffee half raised. 

"Of course, Li ... after every obstacle she has had to overcome since arriving in Cordonia for your social season, she deserves validation of her worth.” 

"She is struggling, trying to find her place here again.” Liam shook his head, the guilt once again overwhelming him. 

"She'll find it.” Olivia observed her friend closely. Olivia sighed and put her cup down. 

"Liam, I'm going to tell you something.” 

"Okay.” Liam lifted his gaze from his hands in response with hesitation. 

"I've never been good at saying these kinds of things, so I'll make this quick.” 

"Go on, Liv.” 

"You are my best friend, and I care about you. And I know that Riley is the woman for you. I've known that for some time now.” Olivia exhaled deeply. “Even though ...” Olivia twisted her fingers in her lap. “Even though, I wish it were me that you chose.” 

Liam listened attentively to Olivia's words, his expression a mix of understanding and empathy. He reached out and gently placed his hand over hers, offering a reassuring squeeze. 

"I value our friendship more than words can express, Olivia," Liam spoke with sincerity. "You've been by my side through thick and thin, and I cherish every moment we've shared." 

He paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts before continuing. "As for Riley, she's an extraordinary woman, and I feel incredibly fortunate to have her back in my life. Our connection is deep and meaningful, and I believe she's the one I want to build a future with." 

Liam's gaze softened as he spoke. "I understand your feelings, Olivia. You have always been a constant source of support and understanding for me, and I value that more than you know. I hope that you will always remember how much you mean to me, regardless of who I'm with romantically." 

Olivia nodded, a small smile touching her lips. "I do know, Liam. And I'm genuinely happy for you and Riley. You both deserve all the happiness in the world." 

Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of barking. The guests had arrived, and Liam and Olivia exchanged a knowing look, their unspoken bond of friendship and mutual respect stronger than ever after their confessions.

"Thank you again, Olivia.” Liam said as he stood to greet the guests. 

"And if anyone tries to get between the two of you, I'll be right there by your side.” Olivia smirked. 

"That's good to know, Liv.” Liam chuckled. 

“By the way, have you heard from your ex-wife?” 

Liam's expression changed, the lines around his eyes deepened, and his jaw tightened. 

"Not a word.” 

"You know I can personally locate her, right?” 

"I have no doubt, but it's not necessary. I have assigned Damien to personally lead an intel team to track her.” 

"Okay, but ....” 

"She's not going to come between Riley and me.” 

"Good. Because if she does, I will personally handle her.” 

"You know, I have a feeling you're enjoying this more than you should." 

"Perhaps.” 

Liam chuckled as he turned to watch Riley with Willam walk hand in hand down the grand staircase. 

"Good morning, love." Liam smiled as he bent down to kiss her cheek and reached down to scoop William in his arms.

"There she is...there is my little blossom!" Maxwell cried, running towards Riley engulfing her in a bear hug, lifting her off the ground. Bertrand, Savannah and Bartie followed greeting Liam and Olivia.

"It's good to see you too, Max. You look well." Riley laughed as he spun her around in the air. 

"I'm not letting go until you promise to never leave me again." 

"Alright, alright, put me down!" Riley giggled, feeling the warmth and affection of her Cordonian best friend. “What are you guys doing here?” 

“We came to say hello, silly.” Maxwell winked, as Bertrand walked up to Riley to place a kiss on her cheek. 

William tugged on Liam’s pants, "Who's that?" William gestured towards the little boy holding his mother’s hand. 

"That's Bartie, buddy. He is Maxwell’s little nephew." 

"Hi." William beamed as he waved to Bartie. Damien stepped forward in anticipation to follow the crown prince. 

“Hi.” Bartie returned the greeting with a smile. 

“Lady Riley, you look well.” Bertrand stood beside Savannah and Bartie. 

“It's so good to see you both!” Riley moved up to hug Savannah and accept a kiss on the cheek from Bertrand. 

"Bertrand, it's so good to see you." 

"Likewise, Lady Riley. You are a welcome sight." 

"Aww, thanks, Bertrand." 

"And this must be William.” 

Bertrand bowed to the crown prince. 

"Yes. William, this is your uncle Bertrand.” 

"Hello, William.” 

"Hewwo." William shyly greeted him, hiding behind Riley's leg. 

"Oh, my. This is awkward. I'm not very good with children." Bertrand said nervously. 

"It's okay, Bertrand. Just be yourself.” Savannah gently pushed him forward 

"Very well. I, ....um, brought you a gift." 

Bertrand held out a small box. 

"Aww, thank you, Bertrand. That is not necessary."  Riley answered.

"Of course, it is. It is only proper etiquette. William is the crown prince of Cordonia." Riley grinned, shaking her head. “I stand corrected.” 

*** 

Under the gently falling snowflakes outside Nevrakis Chateau, William and Bartie ran through the snow-covered gardens, their laughter echoing in the crisp air. Maxwell’s cheeks were rosy from the cold, and his eyes sparkled with childlike delight as he tried to catch snowflakes on his tongue, trying to impress his nephew. 

Liam, scooping up snow to build a snowman with William, laughed heartily as he watched his son splayed on the ground creating a snow angel. His normally composed demeanor gave way to playful enthusiasm as he encouraged William's creative ideas for their snowy adventures. 

Riley, with Savannah stood by with a smile, capturing the joyful moments with her phone. Her eyes glowed with happiness as she watched Liam and William further bond over the simple pleasure of playing in the snow. 

Their guests, a mix of friends and family, joined in the snow-filled festivities. Laughter and good-natured banter filled the air as everyone engaged in snowball fights, built snow forts, and created snow angels together. 

As the day progressed, everyone gathered around a crackling fire inside the chateau, sipping hot cocoa and sharing stories. The warmth of the fire contrasted with the cold beauty of the snowscape outside, creating a cozy and inviting atmosphere. 

***

....later in the evening...

Surrounded by snow-peaked mountains, ensconced in romantic candlelight, Liam grasped Riley’s hand and led her to submerge down into the thermal waters of the outdoor hot tub of the Royal suite. 

Riley sank down to let the warm water wash over her. "This is perfect, Liam.” 

"It is.” 

They sat in silence for a few moments, enjoying the peace and tranquility of the moment. 

"What's going on in that sweet, beautiful mind of yours, Riley?" 

"I was just thinking about how much time we've lost." Liam could see the hurt in her eyes mixed with unshed tears starting to form before she looked down, unable to keep eye contact with him.  Liam reached over to gently lift her chin, as she became emotional.

"We'll make up for lost time." 

"How, Liam?" 

"By spending every moment together, cherishing each other, and never letting go." 

"That does sound nice." 

"It does." 

Liam reached forward and brushed a strand of hair away from Riley's face. 

"I promise you, love. I will do everything in my power to make you happy." 

"I know, Liam.” 

"So, are you ready to talk about the future now?" 

"I am." Riley breathed in.

"Good." 

Liam paused, gathering his thoughts. 

"I want us to be a family, Riley. A real family. 

"Me too, Liam. But, how do we do it?" 

"We start by taking things one day at a time. We spend time together and get to know each other again. We take things slowly and enjoy the journey."

Liam looked at Riley with adoration, his eyes filled with love. 

“Je veux t’emmener a Paris.” Riley quickly turned her head to look at Liam. 

["I want to take you to Paris”] 

“Il y a tellement de belles choses que je veux partager avec vous la-bas.”

["There are so many beautiful things I want to share with you there."] 

“Okay, okay ... I caught the words, ‘Paris’ and ‘beautiful’.” Riley giggled and then waved her hand in the air. “Everything else went way over my head.” 

Liam smiled wide and shook his head. “I want to take you to Paris and share the beauty with you.” 

“The Eiffel tower was breathtaking.” 

“There is so much more to Paris than the Eiffel tower.” Liam lifted Riley’s hand to his lips and turned her wrist over to gently kiss. 

“Je dois montrer a l’amour de ma vie a quel point elle compte pour moi. Te revoir dans ma vie n’a pas de prix.”  

[“I need to show the love of my life how much she means to me. To have you back in my life is priceless.” ]

Liam tugged Riley’s arm and pulled her onto his lap. 

Cupping her cheek, he met her lips in a slow, sultry kiss, his tongue coaching her to allow him to take her breath away as his tilted her head to deepen the kiss. 

Riley more than willingly let Liam take the lead. She missed the thrill she felt when he would take control and melted into his embrace.

Liam’s hands moved down to her waist pressing her body down against his, as Riley wrapped her arms around his neck she felt his impressive length as she could not resist grinding her hips down. 

"Let's take this inside," he whispered huskily. 

"Mmmhmm." Riley purred. 

Liam rose up from the tub and lifted Riley up as she wrapped her legs around him. Dripping water and leaving a trail of wet footprints on the floor, Liam carried carried her inside to the bedroom.

With one arm supporting her, and the other opening the doors, they made their way inside. 

"I've missed this," he whispered, kissing her deeply. 

"So have I," she replied, her eyes half-closed, reveling in the feeling of his body pressed against hers. 

They moved further into the room, stopping at the bed. Liam lowered Riley down onto the mattress, his body following hers. 

Riley ran her fingers through his wet hair, pulling him in for another heated kiss. 

"I need you, Riley," he whispered, his voice low and husky. 

"I'm yours, Liam," she whispered back, her body responding to his touch. 

Liam kissed down her neck, his hands roaming over her curves, exploring every inch. 

"Liam," Riley moaned, her body aching for more. 

“William ...” 

“William is comfortably sleeping in the next room.” 

Liam paused,  as he kissed his way down her body, his hands caressing her breasts, his lips teasing her nipples. 

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, his breath hot against her skin. 

"I'm yours," Riley replied, her voice full of desire. 

Liam kissed his way down her stomach, his hands caressing her hips. He parted her legs, his lips trailing over her inner thighs. 

Riley could feel her heart pounding in her chest, her body aching for his touch. 

"Please, Liam," she whispered, her voice a plea. 

The world seemed to fade away as they lost themselves in each other's embrace. It was if time itself had paused, allowing them this moment of reunification after so long apart. Their hearts beat in unison, a rythym of longing and desire that had been suppressed for too long.

They collapsed on the bed, their bodies entwined, their breathing heavy. 

Riley’s fingers traced the lines of Liam's face, memorizing every detail as if afraid this moment might slip away.

Liam, with a gentleness that belied his intensity, cradled her face in his hands, his eyes searching hers as if trying to convey a lifetime of unspoken words.

"I've missed you," Riley whispered, her voice barely audible above the rush of emotions between them.

Liam nodded, his gaze never leaving hers. "I've missed you too, more than words can say."

"Stay with me," he whispered, his voice heavy with emotion. 

"Always," Riley replied, her heart full of love. 

Riley snuggled closer to Liam, their bodies fitting perfectly together. 

"I love you," she whispered, her heart finally feeling complete. 

"I love you too," Liam whispered back, his love for her shining through his eyes. 

"This is perfect," she sighed, her body completely content. 

"You're perfect," he murmured, his arms holding her close as he kissed her forehead. 

***

The next day at Nevrakis Chateau in Lythikos dawned with a gentle warmth that matched the newfound closeness that returned between Riley and Liam. As they woke up entangled in each other's arms, the sunlight filtering through the windows painted their room in a soft golden hue. 

Riley stirred first, her fingers tracing patterns on Liam's chest as she watched him sleep peacefully. She couldn't help but smile, feeling a sense of contentment she had not experienced in a long time. With a gentle kiss on his cheek, she whispered, "Good morning, my love." 

Liam blinked his eyes open, a lazy smile spreading across his face as he saw Riley's loving gaze. "Good morning, beautiful," he murmured, pulling her closer for a lingering kiss. 

"Riley," Liam began, his voice filled with affection, "I have a special arrangement for William today. I thought it would be wonderful for him to spend the entire day with Bartie, Maxwell, Savannah, and Bertrand." 

Riley's eyes lit up with delight at the thought of William having a day filled with fun and adventure with his friends. "That sounds fantastic, Liam! I'm sure they'll have a great time together." 

Liam nodded, a smile playing on his lips. "I thought it would also give us a chance to have some uninterrupted time together, just the two of us. We can explore more of Lythikos, enjoy a quiet lunch, and simply cherish each other's company." 

Riley leaned in, her eyes sparkling with affection. "I love that idea, Liam. Spending time with you like this is truly special." 

They shared a tender moment, savoring the anticipation of a day filled with shared experiences and cherished moments. Liam's thoughtful gesture to arrange William's day with their friends allowed them the opportunity to reconnect and deepen their bond in the enchanting surroundings of Nevrakis Chateau and Lythikos. 

After a leisurely morning together, they decided to explore more of Lythikos. Liam had planned a surprise outing for Riley, eager to show her some of his favorite spots in the picturesque region. 

They ventured out hand in hand, enjoying the crisp morning air and the breathtaking views of the mountains surrounding them. Liam took Riley to a secluded spot overlooking a serene lake.

"I used to come here often to clear my mind," Liam shared, his eyes reflecting the tranquility of the place. "It's peaceful, away from the chaos of the palace." 

"It's beautiful," Riley whispered, leaning into him as they watched the gentle breeze upon the water's surface. 

As they talked and shared stories from their past, Riley felt a sense of belonging she hadn't felt in a long time. Being with Liam in such a serene setting, away from the pressures of their responsibilities, allowed them to connect on a deeper level. 

After spending a blissful day together, they returned to the chateau in the evening, where a romantic dinner awaited them. Liam had arranged for a Michelin star chef to prepare a gourmet meal, complete with candlelight and soft music playing in the background. 

Over dinner, they talked about their hopes and dreams for the future. Liam expressed his desire to create lasting memories with Riley, to travel the world together and experience new adventures. 

"I want us to live fully, without any regrets," Liam said, his eyes locked on Riley's. "I want you by my side in every journey, every moment." 

Riley's heart swelled with love, feeling overwhelmed by the depth of Liam's feelings for her. "I want that too, Liam," she replied, reaching across the table to take his hand. "I want us to embrace life together, to cherish every moment." 

As the evening progressed, their conversation turned lighter, filled with laughter and playful banter. They danced together in the moonlit courtyard, lost in each other's arms, their worries and doubts melting away in the magic of the moment. 

Eventually, exhaustion caught up with them, and they retired to their room, cuddled up in each other's embrace. With a whispered "I love you" and a tender kiss, they drifted off to sleep, ready to face whatever the future held for them, united in their love and commitment to each other. 

Thanks for reading; please let me know if you would like to be added or removed from this series.

📌@ao719 @txemrn @queenmiarys @sfb123 @twinkleallnight @alj4890 @differenttyphoonwerewolf @bascmve01 @busywoman @kristinamae093 @kingliam2019 @emkay512 @karahalloway @malblk21 @tinkie1973 @emersyn-in-cordonia @dutifullynuttywitch @charlotteg234 @lovingchoices14 @kyra75 @imjusthereforliam

📌@choicesficwriterscreations

[silvrmoon]

the brunette's words bring a smile to matteo's lips, the prospect of spending the evening in front of the television watching his team play with a delicious burger he'd ordered from the diner downtown was enough to make him forget that he'd spent most of his day shopping with the other. " sounds lovely," the male teases with a soft grin, " if you get bored you can always come to find me and i'll teach you a thing or two about hockey." handing her the bags back, the male nods in agreement before venturing towards the spacious living room. the rest of the evening is pretty uneventful, and after an astonishing loss from his team, the male is settled on the couch, defeated and half-asleep, dark hues fixated on the television screen when a scream cuts through the room, the hairs on the back of his neck prickling in response. " bow ? " his hand almost instantly moves to his holster as he stands up from his seat, long legs quietly making his way towards her bedroom.

her home was a vast condo that despite its size, bow had the audacity to consider modest. in fact, she had thrown a tantrum to her father when he had selected the space based on location rather than luxury. still, there was plenty of closet space, the one thing that she had demanded when she had listed the amenities of what she needed in a home that was just hers. she'd had far more space in the family estate. "no events tonight," she confirmed with a tap to her chin, as if considering whether or not she would let matteo off that easily. "mmm. yeah. sure. that's fine. you can do whatever you want tonight. i'll just be reorganizing my closet anyway." and she would do so while consuming a glass of wine. to bow, that was a perfect way to spend the night in, only grabbing the bags when they were outside of her room, giving him a wave and leaving him to his own devices.

[fandom-imagines-stories]

Mr. Sandman

Dave Torres x Reader

Words: 2910

Summary: In an impossible situation, you remember the night before everything changed while you try to stay awake. 

Notes:Listen, the last one was a treat, but I had to do something angsty. You know me. I like pain too much. Enjoy! 

-

If you could just rest your eyes for a second, you would be okay. You could lean your head back, close your eyes and-

“Y/N.”

A hand on your cheek snapped you out of your exhaustion. 

“Hey.” The voice was panicked. “Hey, open your eyes. Y/N, open your eyes.”

“I’m awake, Dave,” you sighed, feeling everything weighing on your limbs again. 

“Then look at me, baby, please.” 

You squinted, finding wide, worried eyes looking into yours. 

You snorted. “Good morning to you too.”

Dave leaned back, letting his hand fall to his side. 

“It isn’t funny.”

“We’re all going to die,” you shrugged. “Might as well laugh a little.”

“Don’t say that,” he snapped. His voice shook a little. “You’re going to be fine.”

You could tell he didn’t really believe it either by the way he wouldn’t look at you. It didn’t matter. He was trying. Which was certainly more than could be said for you. 

You leaned forward and kissed him. He was still a moment. Surprised. Then, his hand returned to your cheek, slipping back and around to cup the back of your head. 

Dave pulled back with a small smile, hand still holding your forehead against his. 

“What was that for?”

You kissed him again, this one short and sweet. “For trying.”

He pulled you into his arms and, for a while, he just held you. Neither of you said anything because there wasn’t anything to say. 

At least you were together, you thought. If last night had gone differently, if your stubbornness and his reluctance hadn’t gotten the better of you… 

Dave didn’t want to think about it. 

He didn’t want to think about you lying there, in the bed you shared, not moving. 

That would be his nightmare. 

-

“Maybe you should call in.” 

“I’m not going to call in.” 

“You look awful.”

“Gee, thanks.” 

“Dave,” you sighed, pulling him closer by his belt loops. “Stay. Get some rest.” Before he could argue, you pointed a finger at his chest. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed you staying up all hours. You can’t keep burning the candle at both ends.”

“Y/N, we talked about this-”

“Did we?” You put your hands on your hips. “Because we don’t talk about anything, Dave.” 

He grabbed his keys, brushing past you on the way to the door. “I don’t have time for this argument again.” 

“Fine.” You couldn’t hide the frustration in your voice. But you were tired of not being able to help him because he wouldn’t help himself. “I’ll see you when you get home.”

He should have just kept walking. He should have just left. 

Dave stopped at the door, turning back to you with an irritated glare. 

“You know,” he said, “you can’t keep trying to fix me just because you can’t fix yourself.”

Your mouth fell open, eyes filling with hurt. 

Dave’s face immediately morphed with regret, but the door shut behind him before he could take it back. 

-

They were prepping the plane. Matteo was somehow going to fly you all across the world to an island only Dave had ever heard of. A seventeen-hour flight. None of you had slept in over fifty hours. But yeah, nothing too crazy.

“Do you really think we can do this?” You asked. 

Dave was double-checking his pack and stopped to look up at you. Something in his expression faltered. A flicker of despair swiftly replaced by a desperate hope. 

“I told you.” He put his things aside to take your hand. “We’re going to be fine.”

“Aye aye, Captain.” You swung your arm up for a mock salute, but the motion made your tired legs buckle. Your feet skidded on the cement like ice sliding on a hot surface. It almost felt like they were giving up, like your body just couldn’t hold you anymore. 

Dave caught you. 

“Take it easy,” he said, lips at your ear and voice gently. “You’ll want to save your strength for our dance.”

You snorted, still holding onto him. “You hate dancing.”

“I hate it less when it’s with you.” He pulled you closer and started to sway. 

“I bet you say that to all the girls, Dream Man.” You moved with him, both of you drifting to music that only existed in your minds. 

“Dream Man?”

“You’re kinda a superhero now,” you teased. “I thought you should have a name.”

“So you pick ‘Dream Man’?” 

“Hey, don’t judge. It’s difficult enough to form words, let alone be as clever as I am.” You blew out a breath that was almost a laugh. “Most of the time, just talking feels hard.” 

“Then let’s not say anything for a while,” Dave said softly. 

You nodded. 

And you danced. 

-

You drove to the dull droning of the voice on the radio. You weren’t really listening, just staring out into the night through your cracked windshield. Streetlights blurred by. Tail lights glowed ahead of you. They looked more like the eyes of an animal than a car. No. Not an animal. A hellhound. It stayed just far enough ahead that you couldn’t see the vehicle. Just those awful red lights. 

You tried to remind yourself that the sun would be up soon. You had driven around like that for hours, but you still weren’t tired. You weren’t angry anymore, though. Your frustration with Dave faded to numbness along with the rest of your thoughts. 

The car ahead sped up, finally fading into the horizon, where the sun would soon appear. A chill went through you, and you froze. You turned up the radio. It played some synth-heavy 80s tune, but, for a second, you could have sworn you heard your name. 

You turned the car around. 

Maybe it was time to go home.

-

You’d never particularly liked flying. With how much you moved around as a kid, you should have been used to it but you could never shake the anxiety of seeing yourself plummeting down to earth. And now, you’d be flying with a pilot who was as deliriously sleep-deprived as you were. 

With every step up the stairs, you gripped Dave’s hand tighter. He rubbed circles into your palm with his thumb to help calm you, but you could see the nerves were getting to him too. 

“Hey,” you said with an attempt at a lighthearted tone. “What have we got to lose, right?” 

Dave brought your hand up to his lips, knowing he had everything to lose as long as he still had you. 

“Right.” 

Linda and Matteo were ready- or, at least, as ready as any of you could have been. Linda claimed her seat, muttering assurances to herself. 

You and Dave stopped at the cockpit. The two friends exchanged a long, worried glance. They embraced, both of them trying to seem more confident than they felt. When they parted, Dave went to the back with Linda and you put a hand on Matteo’s shoulder. 

“Don’t crash, yeah?” You said. 

He laughed, but not with his usual humor. “I won’t fall asleep if you don’t.”

“Deal.” You gave him a somewhat encouraging pat on the back and went to the back to join the others. You took the seat across from Dave.

His eyelids were heavy, fluttering open and closed. 

“Seventeen hours,” Linda said, snapping him out of it. She looked at both of you with a hard, determined stare. “We just have to make it seventeen more hours.”

Dave leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He ran a finger lightly back and forth across your legs. 

“Seventeen hours.” He repeated. 

You took a deep breath. “How hard can it be?”

“I swear to God, if you just jinxed us,” Linda said, “I’ll switch out your Modafalyst for sleeping pills.” 

The three of you laughed. 

Then it was quiet again. 

But it didn’t stay quiet. Not for you. 

A couple hours must have gone by because your muscles were stiff from sitting for so long. You stretched out your arms and legs, biting back a yawn. 

“How are you feeling?” Dave asked. 

“Bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.”

He smiled and turned his head toward the window. 

“So he’s got you into another mess, huh?”

The new voice made you jump. 

“And now, you’re all going to die.” There, in the seat across the aisle from you, was your sister. 

“Wila?”

She grinned with a maliciousness she always reserved just for you. 

“You never got to help me pick one out.” She stood, motioning to the long white dress. “So I thought now would be a good time.”

“Leave me alone.”

“Y/N?” Dave leaned toward you. “Baby, what is it?”

“There you go, Wila mocked. “You’ll do just about anything for attention, won’t you? Including, but not limited to, hallucinating your dead sister.”

“I never confirmed that you died.” 

“And you never went to mom and dad’s funeral, but you still know they’re dead, right?” 

“Stop it.” 

“Do you think Davey here will be like them?”

“I said stop.” You felt your breathing quicken, your heart pounding in your chest. 

“Maybe this is all your fault.” Wila stepped forward, getting her face right up next to yours no matter how much you tried to pull away. “Just like mommy and daddy.” 

“Just go away!” You cried, covering your ears with your hands. “Leave me alone. Leave me alone!” You shut your eyes. 

“She’s hallucinating.” 

“We have to do something. Y/N! Y/N, stay with me!” 

“Y/N… Y/N… Y/N…” Wila chanted like some demented song. 

“Y/N, it’s okay.” Dave put a hand on your shoulder. 

You opened your eyes. 

Wila stood in front of you, her white dress turned red from the sticky blood oozing out of multiple wounds. 

“See you soon, little sister.” She lunged. Blood sprayed all over you. 

“Stop!” You sobbed. “No! Stop it! Leave me alone!” Your screams filled the cabin. You crawled up into your seat, desperate to get away. Cramming yourself against the window, you furiously swiped at your face and clothes to get the imaginary blood off of you. 

Hands held either side of your face. You tried to fight them, but they were strong. Stronger than your dead sister. 

“Y/N, baby, look at me,” Dave pleaded. “It isn’t real. Come on, look at me.”

Wila faded from your mind. 

You blinked and found Dave staring at you, dark and tired eyes wide with panic. He had your face cupped in his hands, trying to force you to see him and not whatever demon you were fighting. To see he was there. You were there. Nothing was going to hurt you. 

Dave watched you come back to yourself. Your lip started to tremble.

He sat beside you, gently pulling you into his lap, his embracing arms the only protection he could offer. 

“It’s okay,” he soothed. “I’m here. It’s okay.” He looked at Linda. “How much longer?”

She sighed, grim. “Ten hours.”

Still shaking, you rested your head against his chest as he rocked you in his arms, and screwed your eyes shut. 

-

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d run that fast or that far. His legs wanted to give out, his lungs screamed at him for a break, but Dave didn’t let up. He kept running. 

People were dead. A lot of people. 

And you weren’t answering your phone.

Dave felt the quiet of the street seeping into him like a harsh, burning mist. He couldn't help but draw back to a poem he had to read in school. He’d never gotten it before. 

This is the way the world ends. 

Not with a bag but a whimper. 

“Please be there,” Dave begged. “Please be awake. Please be alive.”

He kept going. 

What if that was the last thing he said to you? What if you went to sleep thinking you were broken- that he believed you were broken? No. That couldn’t be it. He needed another chance. 

Please let him have another chance. 

Dave could barely breathe by the time he climbed the stairs, taking them two at a time until he reached the apartment you shared. 

For a second, all he could do was stand there, heart breaking out of his chest. The terror turned his blood to ice. 

He opened the door. 

The apartment was entombed with the same horrible silence as outside. 

Dave felt tears of panic welling in his eyes. 

“Y/N?” He called out, his voice hoarse and breaking. 

Nothing.

He stepped forward. 

“Y/N?” He said again, a little louder. “Y/N, it’s me. Something happened. Something bad. Where are you?”

Only the silence greeted him. 

A sob caught in his throat.

“Baby?” 

Dave worked up enough courage to look into the bedroom, slowly leaning his head in as his eyes adjusted to the dark room. The curtains were open just enough for a sliver of light to fall on the bed. The empty bed. 

Dave flipped on the light switch, confusion now mixing with the myriad of other emotions. It added to his already overwhelming fear. 

What did this mean? Where were you? What if he never found you? What if you were out there, crashed in a ditch from exhaustion, or passed out at some bar, never to wake up? 

He tried calling you again. Your phone lit up, buzzing on the nightstand. A picture of the two of you- you kissing his cheek while he made a face at the camera- took over the screen.

“Goddamnit,” he said, heart rate spiking even more.  

Then there was a different sound. The phone stopped vibrating, but another kind of low rumble shook through him. Dave froze. 

It was a car. 

By the time you reached the apartment, you knew something had to be wrong. Where was the morning rush? The school buses? The obnoxious power-walking moms and their strollers? It was as though time around you had stopped and you were trapped outside of it. 

You parked in your usual spot and waited for something. Anything.

“What the fuck?” You said to yourself. 

You got out of the car. The slam of the door rattled in the eerie emptiness that surrounded you. 

“Y/N!” 

The door to your building burst open.

“Dave?”

His arms were around you before you even realized he was running. He shook around you, holding you tight to him like he was making sure you couldn’t disappear. 

“I thought I lost you,” he cried. “I’m sorry for what I said. I’m so sorry.” He pulled back only to crash his lips into yours in a desperate, relieved kiss. “I thought I lost you.”

“Dave.” You looked into the pure panic in his eyes, the terror in his trembling lips. “What’s going on?”

He took a breath. 

-

There was a chill. Not a bad chill, but enough for you to huddle closer to the man holding you. 

“It’s beautiful here,” Dave muttered, his lips against your ear. 

“I thought you would like it,” you sighed contently, listening to the sound of the waves. 

The cliffside you laid on was lush with green. Wildflowers popped up all around you in calm blues and royal purples. It was beautiful. Even more, it was peaceful. So peaceful…

“Here they come,” Dave said. 

You turned your head. 

A bright yellow car creept up the road towards you. 

You settled back into the arms around you. 

“I’m glad you’re meeting them.” 

“Me too.” 

“They’re going to love you, you know.”

“I hope so.”

The closer the car got, the more you could make out the song playing on the radio. 

“Mr. Sandman… bring me a dream.”

Your parents waved at you. 

You blinked. 

“Dave.” Looking around, you realized the silence wasn’t peaceful at all. It was suffocating. “Where are we?” 

The hold around you tightened. 

“Dave?”

“Oh, Y/N.” 

His voice changed. It was too deep. It was wrong. So wrong.

“I’m not Dave.”

-

Dave stared out of the window, still clutching you tight against his chest, his hands rubbing soothing circles up and down your back until you stopped trembling against him. 

“I’ve got you,” he whispered. He kissed your forehead. 

Your head tilted back.

“Y/N?”

He loosened his hold and you fell, limp in his arms. 

“Oh shit,” Linda said. She scrambled for her bag. 

“Y/N!” Dave shook your shoulders. 

Your eyes stayed closed, your chest still. 

“Linda, do something!” 

“I’m trying.” She plunged the adrenaline into your leg. 

No response. 

“Come on, baby. Come on.” He laid a hand on your cheek, tapping gently. “Please, baby.” 

Linda sat back, tears traveling solemnly down her face. “Dave, I…”

“Try again.”

“Dave-”

“Do it again!” His scream echoed through the small cabin just as yours had moments before. He pleaded, “Linda, please.”

It felt like every piece of him was breaking. He drew you to him, burying his face in your neck.

“Wake up,” he sobbed. “Y/N, wake up.”

Linda decided to give him a moment and went to the front of the plane to tell Matteo. She watched Dave, shaking her head, holding back cries of her own. Sorry wouldn’t be enough, so she didn’t say it.

Dave rocked back and forth on the floor of the aisle, his tears falling onto your never-opening eyes. He could only whisper, his energy spent, each word more shattered than the last. 

“Please wake up.” 

[lili863]

Animagus

(Pt 5)

Matteo Riddle x MC

AN: Enemies to lovers, Quidditch, banter, conspiracies, dark arts, manipulation, death eaters, Slytherin boys, suggestive themes

Word count: 5.7 K

Masterlist

**************

"UGH!"

Ripple grunted in pain as his back slammed against the cold stone wall. His wide eyes darted around, taking in the group of Slytherins that had cornered him, their faces marked by the casual cruelty of those who know they hold all the power.

"Hate to break it you but if you ever thought you were my type then you’ve clearly lost your fucking mind," Matteo chuckled, though the sharp edge in his voice made it clear he wasn’t really amused.

The Hufflepuff tried to salvage what little dignity he had left "I-I didn’t mean it! I swear, I don’t know what happened!"

Matteo’s smirk widened, "Didn’t mean it? Damn, Ripple, you’re breaking my heart."

Everyone except Ripple chucked who was still holding hope that he could get through this conversation alive.

Blaise chimed in, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "So, what then? You’re just naturally an idiot? You’re telling me Wynn Cromwell tampered with your papers, charmed you, sat back, and had a good fucking laugh while you proclaimed your undying love, and you couldn’t do a damn thing to stop it? What are you, a wizard, or just a shit Muggle in disguise?"

Ripple stammered, unable to form a coherent reply. In truth, he hadn’t even realized his papers had been charmed. The fact that you had pulled this off without him noticing made him question whether he was truly terrible at magic or if your abilities far exceeded what any sixth-year should possess.

"No offense, Ripple," Matteo leaned casually against the window, the smile on his lips a stark contrast to the cold stare he aimed at the shrinking Hufflepuff. "But if I hear you say shit like that again, I’ll make sure you’re eating through a straw for the rest of the year."

A quivering sigh escaped Harrison Ripple's mouth "You know I didn’t mean it. Whatever Cromwell did it..it caught me off gaurd. I never expected her to do such a thing in the first place"

Matteo patted his shoulder in consolation though it was hardly genuine. "I know. That’s why I’m letting it slide this time, but fucking hell,…" He trailed off with a laugh, turning to glance at the others, who were all watching with predatory interest. "You’re pathetic."

The fists of the young hufflepuff's only tightened in response, jaw gritted so tight, he knew his tooth would ache later on. But each cruel remark from the unforgiving syletherin elite only kept getting worse.

“You know what I find fascinating"? Theo spoke up, his low baritone voice sharp "How someone so insignificant can manage to fuck up so royally. You’re like a bad joke that just keeps getting worse.”

Ripple’s emotions flickered to momentary fury, jaws clenched because he was smart enough to keep his mouth shut, knowing better than to show defiance in front of the Slytherins.

Theo’s eyes gleamed as he read Ripple's anger like an open book and his lips curved at the sight as he continued, “I half-expected you to drop to your knees and beg for a kiss"

Ripple let out an involuntary huff of disbelief, but before he could register what was happening, Theo stepped forward, his hand gripping the back of Ripple’s neck like a vice. With a low, mocking chuckle, Theo leaned in closer, his breath hot against Ripple’s ear. “Maybe you still will. What do you think? Want to plant one on Riddle before he puts you in the hospital wing?”

With a sudden, forceful shove, Theo pushed Ripple forward, sending him stumbling into Matteo. The Hufflepuff barely caught himself, his hands flailing as he struggled not to fall. Matteo, for his part, didn’t bother to move, watching Ripple’s pathetic attempts to steady himself with cold indifference.

The group erupted into laughter.

“This isn’t funny!” Ripple’s voice cracked with desperation as he tried to regain some control. “I made a mistake, okay? I get it! But I’m the Hufflepuff Quidditch team captain, damn it! Hufflepuff's finest! How many times do I have to say I didn’t mean a single fucking thing?”

The outburst hung in the air, the silence thick and suffocating.

Every second that stretched only seemed to raise Ripple's blood pressure when Matteo finally broke it “Look at that, Ripple’s finally growing a backbone."

"It’s because you guys treat me like shit," Ripple finally blurted out, unable to hold it in any longer. To his surprise, Matteo just snorted, unfazed. "Well, can’t argue with that.Every time you open your mouth, it’s like watching a train wreck. You make it too damn easy."

Ripple watched Matteo light up a cigarette, the smoke curling lazily around his fingers, that same infuriating grin still playing on his lips. It didn’t matter if he could whip out his wand and hex every one of these arrogant bastards; he still wouldn’t be taken seriously.

Matteo exhaled a stream of smoke, his eyes narrowing as they locked onto his quivering form. “You know, my father always said there’s nothing more pathetic than a wizard who doesn’t know his place. And now, looking at you, I finally understand what he meant.”

The words hung in the air, colder and sharper than the stone walls around them.

Every scrutinizing gaze was silent but said a thousand words that Ripple's pride just couldn't swallow. It was as if their eyes were stripping him of every last shred of dignity, leaving him exposed and vulnerable.

He had been willing to endure their torment, but even a cornered animal only takes so much before it lashes out.

"I want the cup," Ripple’s voice rang out, cutting through the oppressive silence like a blade.

The group's reaction was instant—a brief flicker of surprise, quickly replaced by simmering anger.

Blaise’s expression darkened as he stepped closer to Ripple. "You know that's not going to happen."

"But- You all said-"

"You’re asking for the impossible," Theo interjected "We can’t just hand over the Cup. The rest of Slytherin would never go along with it. You’d have the entire house against you—and us."

The arrogance of their tone has sent Ripple's thoughts into a mess of fury. I don’t give a shit, was all he could think, feeling the anger tighten in his chest.

If they wanted to go to the Map Chamber so badly, then they’d have to pay the price. Besides, there's nothing he would like to see more then the ridicule they will face after Hufflepuff gets the cup, they deserve whatever they have coming from their shitty parents anyway.

"I want the Cup. You want the location of the Map Chamber. It’s that simple." Ripple persisted.

"It’s not that simple, and you’re fucking delusional if you think it is," Enzo snapped, frustration flaring in his voice. "You really believe we can just tell the team to throw the match? Do you even understand what would happen? Forget Wynn running her mouth to Hufflepuff—the whole fucking school would know.

"That’s your problem, not mine".

He was done playing their games. They were the Slytherin elite, after all—if anyone could figure out how to pull this off without getting their hands dirty, it was them.

Ripple shook his head again, straightening his back, trying to muster the last bit of defiance he had left. "No. Either you give me that fucking cup, or no location—"

Before he could finish, Matteo lunged forward, the rage a living thing that contorted his features into something almost feral. He slammed Ripple back against the wall with a force that rattled the stone, his face inches from Ripple’s, eyes blazing with fury.

"You fucking prick," Matteo hissed, his voice low and venomous. "Finally had enough, have you? Grown a pair overnight?"

Ripple gasped, his breath caught as Matteo’s hand tightened around his throat. Panic surged through him as he struggled to breathe, his heart pounding wildly in his chest.

"Maybe you’ve forgotten," Matteo’s voice dropped even lower, a dangerous edge to it, "but you’re easier to read than a fucking children’s book."

It was then that Ripple’s eyes widened with the horrifying realization—Matteo had been inside his head, sifting through his thoughts like a predator playing with its prey.

Fuck.

Matteo Riddle was a Legilimens.

"Wait—w-wait!" Ripple stammered, his voice trembling as he desperately tried to backpedal. "I was just angry, alright? I didn’t mean any of it!"

Theo chuckled darkly from behind Matteo, his tone laced with cruel amusement. "Oh, this should be good. Care to share, Matteo? I’d love to hear what our dear Ripple really thinks of us."

Matteo’s grin was cold, devoid of any real humor, as he tilted his head, never breaking eye contact with Ripple. "Oh, he’s just thinking how fucking delightful it would be to see us humiliated. To watch us lose to Hufflepuff and get what we deserve from our ‘shitty parents,’ as he so eloquently put it."

Ripple’s face drained of color as Matteo recounted his thoughts, his entire body trembling under the weight of his fear.

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

Blaise smirked, his expression dripping with mock sympathy. "Cheers mate, that might be the single most amusing thing that has ever escaped your thoughts, I am sure you who's Riddle 'shitty parent' is right"?

The look on the Hufflepuff's face looked like one of death at the realization.

Enzo sighed " You’re even more of an idiot than I thought."

Matteo leaned in closer, "Here’s the thing, Ripple—I don’t give a shit about your threats. You’re a pawn in a game you don’t even understand, and I’m done playing nice."

Matteo took a deliberate step back, letting Ripple slump against the wall as he gasped for breath. Th hufflepuff watched with panciked eyes as Matteo took another hit of his cigarette the smoke curling around him like a serpent.

"You know," he began, his voice casual, almost conversational, "my father’s always been a shitty parent. Never did get the hang of that whole 'loving father' thing. But torturing people? Now that's a skill he's mastered".

Ripple’s eyes widened in horror, his face going pale as he struggled to find his voice.

"You’re really fucking unlucky, you know that?" Matteo continued, his voice dripping with sadistic amusement. "Because if my old man hears about what’s been running through that tiny brain of yours, he’s gonna have a field day. You think we’re bad? You haven’t seen shit yet."

Ripple’s breath hitched, his hands shaking as he tried to stammer out a reply, but Matteo cut him off with a wave of his hand.

"Here’s the thing," Matteo leaned in close, his voice a menacing whisper. "You’ve been withholding information. My father doesn’t like it when people keep secrets from him. And when he finds out you’ve been playing us, he’s not gonna just let it slide. No, he’s gonna make you scream until your fucking throat bleeds."

"And let’s not forget Aunt Bella" Theo added casually

"She loves to get her hands dirty. She’ll carve you up, leave nothing but a bloody heap where you once stood. Marking her toys is her favorite game. A permanent reminder of your stupidity." Theo added with a chilling smile, watching the boy’s face pale as though he hadn’t nearly pissed his trousers at the thought

Matteo took another hit and crouched down, leveling with Ripple before blowing a stream of smoke into his face ""You ever heard of the Cruciatus Curse? That’s my dad's go to. He’ll break you. Piece by fucking piece. And he won’t stop until you’re begging for death. Problem is, he doesn’t like giving people what they want."

Matteo’s tone shifted, becoming almost conversational again, which somehow made it even more terrifying. "And the best part? He’ll keep you alive, just to see how long it takes before your mind snaps. Every. Single. Detail. That’s what he’ll want. He’ll want to know every little thought that crossed your mind while you were fucking us over."

Ripple’s entire body was trembling now, the sheer terror of what was being described overwhelming him. His mind raced with images of unimaginable pain, of being tortured until there was nothing left but a hollow shell of who he once was.

"Are you curious, Hufflepuff?" Matteo’s voice dripped with malice, "What it’s like to live with ‘shitty parents’? Say the word. Go on, because it's just one letter away." His eyes were cold, revealing the weight of a history filled with cruelty and violence, a glimpse into a world anyone let alone the Hufflepuff could hardly imagine surviving.

Ripple’s resolve crumbled, the fight draining out of him as shook his head, voice desperate and heavy fighting back sobs. "Please... please, I’ll tell you. I’ll tell you everything, just don’t let him... don’t let him do that to me!"

The Slytherins exchanged satisfied glances, their cruel smiles widening as they watched Ripple grovel at their feet.

Matteo leaned down his voice a soft, sinister whisper. "Now, that wasn’t so hard, was it? Start talking. And make it quick. We’ve wasted enough time on you already."

Ripple’s hands shook violently as he struggled to speak, his voice barely a whisper. "The map... it’s in the library, hidden in the Restricted Section. I... I can show you."

The tension was suddenly broken by the distant sound of footsteps. The sharp click of heels on stone grew louder, and before they could react, Professor Snape emerged from around the corner, his cold, calculating eyes narrowing as he took in the scene before him.

"Riddle," Snape’s voice was like ice, cutting through the air. "What exactly is going on here?"

In an instant, Matteo’s expression shifted, the darkness in his eyes replaced by an easygoing facade. He loosened his grip on Ripple, stepping back as if nothing had happened. The rest of the group followed suit, straightening up and adopting similarly nonchalant postures.

"Professor Snape," Matteo greeted smoothly, his tone laced with a hint of false cheer. "We were just… cheering Harrison up. He’s been a bit down lately, and we thought we’d lift his spirits."

Draco, Theo, Enzo, and Blaise all nodded in agreement, each of them putting on a convincing show of innocent concern.

Snape’s eyes flicked over each of them, his expression unreadable. He knew exactly what was going on—the tension in the air, the way Harrison Ripple was trembling, Matteo’s calm menace—it all painted a clear picture. But Snape had his own precarious role to play, one that required him to tread carefully between two worlds.

He was a man trapped by his own double life, forced to watch as students like Ripple became pawns in a game far beyond their comprehension.

"Is that so?" Snape drawled, his voice heavy with unspoken tension. His gaze shifted to Ripple, who looked as though he might collapse under the pressure. "I suggest you all return to your common rooms before I decide to take points from Slytherin for loitering in the corridors."

Draco nodded, his expression equally composed. "We’ll make sure Ripple gets back safely," he added, his voice dripping with insincerity.

Snape’s gaze lingered on Matteo for a moment longer, as if silently warning him to tread carefully, before he finally turned away.

"See that you do," he said curtly, his robes billowing as he walked away, leaving the group alone once more.

As soon as Snape was out of earshot, Matteo’s smile faded, replaced by the menacing glare that had Ripple shrinking back against the wall again. "Library, this Friday, 10 pm"

Ripple hesitated to say his next words but said it anyway "But that's after curfew..."

Matteo smirked, "Is that a problem"?

"No… no problem," Ripple finally managed to choke out, his voice barely above a whisper.

Matteo straightened up, satisfied with Ripple’s submission. "Good," he said coldly, turning away without another word. The rest of the Slytherins followed, their eyes still gleaming with dark amusement as they left Ripple standing alone, dread settling in the pit of his stomach.

As the sound of their footsteps faded, Ripple hands rand through his hair, fisting them in frustration

What did he get himself into? Whatever it was, forget the cup, because if Matteo father is involved, there was no hope of winning.

******************************

You walked through the dimly lit halls, speeding your way through countless stray if students.

You were late—and not just five minutes late, but ten, and it was to Snape's class, of all things.

What possessed you to take a "quick" nap in the library when you were already sleep-deprived was beyond you.

Breathless, you took the stairs two at a time, cursing under your breath as the classroom door came into view.

You could see everyone already seated at their tables, the room eerily quiet.

Now Snape was bound to notice you.

Taking a deep breath at the top of the stairs, you fought to steady your breathing and not look like you were about to collapse from the jog.

Trying to remain as normal as possible, you held that composure with great difficulty and walked in, making a beeline for the closest table.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you quietly set your things down, biting your lip to suppress the breaths that needed to escape.

Some students turned around, watching you with curious eyes as you settled in as quietly as you could

After a few moments, you let out a sigh when suddenly Snape monotone voice echoed through the classroom "Ms. Cromwell, 5 points from Hufflepuff".

'Fuck' you mouthed, slumping in your seat as some Hufflepuffs looked your way with annoyance.

As the class began, the soft clink of glass and bubbling potions filled the room. Everyone was partnered up, diligently working on their Draught of Peace, while you sat alone at the back of the class. You didn’t mind, though. You preferred the quiet, free from distractions, and you knew how to brew this potion without help.

You didn’t have many friends besides Hermione and Ginny, neither of whom shared your schedule. And the few Hufflepuff mates you did get along with weren’t in this class either. No matter—you opened your textbook and began preparing your ingredients, content in the solitude.

But just as you were about to slice the moonstone, a familiar voice cut through your concentration.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite honey badger.”

You looked up, spotting Matteo lounging with Theo and Enzo, his usual smirk playing on his lips as he sat at the table besides you.

"Is that so? Your sure it isn't Ripple"?

Matteo shook his head "No, no. He's my second my favorite".

You let out a small laugh "Better keep that to yourself Riddle, otherwise you'll break his heart".

"Only heart your breaking is mine Cromwell sitting by yourself like that" Matteo feigned worry but you only rolled your eyes, actually a tad amused by his presence.

"Good. There's nothing that fills my day with joy then hearing that sentiment" You pulled the black hair tie from your wrist before pulling your raven hair up to tie back into a pony tail, eyes now concentrating on the ingredient in front of you.

Matteo went quiet, his gaze lingering longer than it should have.

His eyes lazily roamed you, coming up to your exposed neck as you shook your head, securing the hair into place.

Pretty.

Matteo noticed these things a long time ago, but never in detail before. The small moles that speckled your neck to the freckles sprayed across the bridge of your nose. All adorned by your jet black hair framing your soft features. It was all more noticeable today.

You shrugged off your robes, rolling up the sleeves of your crisp white shirt. The movement was casual, but Matteo’s Adam’s apple bobbed as his throat tightened, his eyes tracing the lines of your neck and chest.

You had always worn loose clothing so he never paid much mind to your figure, but when you had sat back down on the bench not paying attention, the skirt rode up thighs revealing the soft fat of your skin squished against the bench.

Fucking hell...why was it always the quiet ones..

His lids lowered, focus sharpening at the edge of your skirt. An inch further and his eyes would have seen the color of the undergarment you chose to wear today.

His breath hitched slightly—just for a moment—before he caught himself, a small grin returning to his lips as he leaned back, watching you with a new, curious intensity.

Meanwhile, your hands shook as you struggled to cut the stubborn blue moonstone, its dust scattering haphazardly around the cauldron. The rough, sharp edges of the stone glinted dangerously under the dim light, threatening to slice your fingers if you weren’t careful. But the dull knife you’d grabbed from the last pile of equipment didn’t help matters. Just your luck.

The cauldron in front of you hissed angrily, bubbling higher than it should, reminding you it needed the other ingredients fast, or this potion would be beyond saving.

With a frustrated huff, you tried to maintain focus, wondering why today, of all days, was spiraling like this. Your thoughts were abruptly interrupted by the sound of heavy footsteps nearing your table. You looked up to see none other than Professor Snape, looming ominously over your cauldron like a dark cloud. Disapproval gleamed in his eyes, and the frown etched on his face deepened with every second he looked at your failed attempts.

"Any day now, Ms. Cromwell," Snape's cold voice cut through the silence, making you fumble with the knife.

You swallowed and quickly returned to the task, trying to scrape the moonstone with as much force as you could muster. The dust flew everywhere, scattering like powdered snow, but you were determined to make it work. The frustration burned hotter in your chest with each passing moment.

A sigh of exasperation escaped the professor, and you could feel his disapproval grow heavier. You looked up sheepishly, still struggling with the moonstone, desperately trying to convey that you were at least trying.

"I—I’m sorry, Professor. The knife is just so dull—"

"No, Ms. Cromwell. That is not the issue," Snape’s voice was biting.

Red tinged your cheeks at the insinuation of his words that your were just utterly weak and grip strength was trash.

"Riddle" Snape snapped.

"Riddle!"

Your eyes widened, flicking behind Snape to where Matteo sat, lounging lazily in his chair, his potion already finished. Of course, it was.

"Pair up with Ms. Cromwell," Snape instructed, his voice sharp and impatient. "Perhaps she’ll find some competence under your guidance."

He sighed, getting up from his chair replying, "Sure, Professor."

His eyes found yours, and the subtle smirk that tugged at the corner of his lips sent another wave of heat to your face. You quickly looked away, leaning back in your chair and setting the moonstone down with more force than necessary.

As he reached your table, he leaned over your shoulder, his gaze boring into the half-finished potion with cool indifference.

"Did you plan on finishing this today?" he asked, his voice low, teasing, as his breath ghosted over your ear.

You groaned quietly in response, leaning back just a bit too far, and your back brushed against his chest. You quickly straightened up, trying to ignore the way his eyes trailed over the side of your face, almost too close for comfort.

"The knife is dull," you stated.

Matteo snorted, amusement lacing his tone. "Really? Let me see."

Without waiting for your reply, he slid into the seat next to you, effortlessly grabbing the moonstone. With a single, swift motion of the knife, a fistful of moonstone dust fell cleanly into the cauldron. He made it look disgustingly easy.

"You were saying" Matteo teased with grin.

You sighed, irritated but keep quiet as the two of you began to work.

A few minutes pass by and you notice Matteo had moved on to the next part of the potion with infuriating ease. He worked diligently, cutting ingredients with precision, measuring them carefully before adding them to the cauldron. His movements were fluid and confident, and it was clear he knew exactly what he was doing.

Your eyes flickered to the knife he’d set down.

Stupid knife. You thought.

Silently, you picked it up, turning it over in your hand, inspecting it as if it were the culprit for all your troubles.

Matteo eyes now pinned on you, watching you turn the knife over in your hands, feeling the edges. He raised a brow wondering what your doing when you suddenly started glaring at the blade like it had personally betrayed you.

"Pft-haha"

You attention now snapped to him chuckling and shaking his head.

"What"? You asked.

"Are you seriously blaming the knife, Cromwell? That’s adorable."

You blinked, momentarily thrown off. "Wha—It is the knife! I mean, look at it!" You pointed at the dull blade. "The edges are completely blunt, the handle has no grip, and I can’t even remember the last time someone polished this ancient relic—"

Matteo's grin only widened, amusement gleaming in his eyes as he leaned casually back in his chair, watching you with a soft, almost playful look. There was something different about you when you weren’t constantly on guard—a flicker of something softer beneath that fiery exterior. He took note of the way your face scrunched up when you were upset, almost like an irritated bunny trying to be tough.

You paused mid-ramble, catching the look on his face. Your shoulders slumped, and you let out a defeated sigh. "Okay, you know what? Let's just focus on finishing the potion."

"Oh, believe me, I’m focused." Matteo smirked. "But it’s hard to concentrate when you’ve got moonstone dust all over your face."

You gasped, your hands immediately flying to your face. "Where?" you started swiping at your cheeks, but only ended up sending the dust flying everywhere.

Matteo chuckled again, this time reaching out to brush the bridge of your nose with his thumb, wiping away the last of the dust. Your nose scrunched at the sensation, and Matteo found himself momentarily distracted by how cute you looked, even if you were a mess. He ignored the quickening pulse that beat against his chest.

"Thanks," you muttered, blushing slightly before returning your focus to the potion.

He hummed in response and began working again.

As you filled the cauldron with more water, Matteo chopped up more moonstone, dropping it in with perfect timing.

You began to stir the mixture, trying desperately to focus on the task at hand, but his presence beside you was distracting—too close, too intense. The air between you felt charged, each breath you took slightly more ragged as you tried to keep your composure.

Then, without warning, Matteo leaned in even closer, his cheek grazing yours, the warmth of his skin sending a jolt through your body.

"Here," he whispered, his voice a low, smooth murmur that made your heart skip a beat. A shiver ran down your spine, uncontrollable and far too obvious. "You’re not stirring it right."

Before you could react, his hand slid over yours, firm but deliberate, taking control of the spoon and shifting the direction of your movements. His fingers wrapped around yours, guiding the spoon smoothly through the thick liquid. "Counterclockwise for this draught. Always."

You nodded stiffly, your throat dry, and you could practically feel the smirk tugging at the corners of his lips before he finally pulled back, his hand lingering for just a second too long before retreating.

"Good," he murmured, his breath hot against your skin before he leaned away, leaving you to wrestle with the lingering heat that spread through your body.

A few more minutes pass by and you notice the color of the cauldron.

What kind of color is that?

You glanced at Matteo and see him measuring out unicorn powder, with powdered porcupine quills and syrup of hellebore sitting besides him in cups.

A creeping dread filled you as you realized something was wrong.

Your eyes darted to your notes, flipping quickly through the pages of your book. Then to Matteo’s textbook. Your heart sank.

Shit

You had been following the wrong recipe.

The realization hit you all at once.

Matteo was focused on the cauldron, his brow furrowed slightly in confusion as he observed the unexpected color change in the potion. He glanced down at his notes, then back at the cauldron, clearly sensing something was off.

Maybe, just maybe, there was a way to salvage this before class was over.

You quickly gathered more ingredients, trying to stay calm, and brought them back to the table. Matteo’s eyes flicked to you, clearly confused. "Hold on," he said, "why are you bringing more unicorn powder? We can’t add any more."

You licked your lips, trying to think fast. "Well... are you sure you added the right amount?"

Matteo raised an eyebrow, studying your face with suspicion. Before he could reply, the cauldron in front of you hissed ominously, a small plume of steam rising from the bubbling liquid inside. Your stomach dropped.

The mixture began splashing against the rim of the cauldron, hissing louder by the second.

You cursed under your breath, panic clawing at your chest as you watched the potion teeter on the edge of disaster.

Matteo’s head snapped up at the sound, his eyes narrowing. "What the hell did you do?" His voice was sharp as he leaned over your shoulder to inspect the potion.

"I—I don’t know!" you stammered, panic flooding your voice. "Something’s wrong!"

"Shit!" Matteo cursed, his hand grabbing your shoulder as the cauldron sputtered. Hot liquid shot out, narrowly missing his face.

"This thing’s about to blow"

Quickly, he grabbed you by the wrist and yanked you to the other side of the room. You stumbled after him, trying to keep up, but in your frantic escape, your shoe lace snagged on the edge of the table. With a startled yelp, you tripped, crashing into Matteo and sending the both of you sprawling onto the floor.

Matteo’s breath left him in a sharp grunt as you collided with him, sending both of you sprawling to the ground. Your face hovered just inches from his, eyes wide with surprise as the cauldron behind you erupted with a deafening bang.

Hot liquid shot across the room, splattering against the walls and tables as students ducked, chairs scraping the floor in their haste to avoid the explosion. The thick, pungent stench of burnt ingredients filled the air, mixing with the billowing clouds of steam that obscured your vision.

For a brief, chaotic moment, the room was nothing but smoke and confusion.

When the dust finally began to settle, the scene shifted into sharp focus. Matteo lay flat on his back, his chest rising and falling beneath you. One arm was draped instinctively over your waist, fingers gripping lightly as though to keep you steady. His gaze was fixed on the ceiling, jaw clenched, a look of utter disbelief etched into his features.

You, meanwhile, were sprawled across his chest, blinking in stunned silence, trying to process the sheer absurdity of what had just happened. Your hands, still braced against his shoulders, trembled slightly, the heat of the near-explosion lingering in the air around you.

You let out the breath you were holding when Snape’s icy voice cut through the chaos like a knife. "What in Merlin’s name is going on here?!"

You quickly scrambled off Matteo, your face flushed with embarrassment. Matteo, still lying there, smirked lazily as he got up, brushing himself off. "Well, that was one way to blow up a class," he muttered under his breath.

The room was dead silent, save for the dripping of the ruined potion as it slid down the walls. The other students, who had taken cover during the explosion, peeked out from behind their desks, eyes wide in a mix of amusement and fear as they waited for Snape’s inevitable wrath.

Snape’s gaze, however, was laser-focused on the two of you. His black robes billowed ominously as he stalked over, his face a mask of fury. He took one look at the state of the classroom—the scorched walls, the overturned cauldron, the puddles of ruined potion—and his expression darkened even further.

"Ms. Cromwell, Mr. Riddle," he hissed, each word sharp and clipped. "Detention. Both of you."

Your stomach dropped as his words sank in. You could feel your fellow students’ stares burning into the back of your head. Snape’s displeasure was one thing, but the thought of detention with Matteo? That was something else entirely.

"Sir—" you started, but Snape’s cold glare silenced you instantly.

"Save your excuses, Cromwell," he snapped. "I’m not interested in hearing them."

Then, his gaze shifted to Matteo, "Mr. Riddle," Snape’s voice dropped to a dangerously low register, "I expected better from my best student. Perhaps I was mistaken in assuming you were above this... childish behavior."

Matteo’s amusment from earlier faded, his expression tightening as Snape’s words hung in the air.

Snape, having made his point, straightened up, his voice sharp and unforgiving. "Both of you will stay behind after class to clean up this disaster you've created. And I expect it to be spotless. Fail, and you’ll both be scrubbing cauldrons for the rest of the term."

He turned on his heel, robes billowing as he stalked back to his desk, leaving the room in a tense, heavy silence. The rest of the class cast nervous glances in your direction, but no one dared to say a word.

You let out a shaky breath, your pulse still hammering in your ears. Matteo, however, remained disturbingly quiet, his expression unreadable.

Okay, You definitely owed him an apology.

Sucking in a breath you spoke "Matteo"

His lips twitched into the faintest hint of a smirk, his gaze flickering back to meet yours, "Try not blow up anything else before detention. See you after class, Cromwell," he mocked

You jaw hung, but your were wordless, watching him causally brush himself down and walk out of the classroom, with Enzo and Theo following suit.

For some reason the thought of being alone with the Matteo Riddle in room for hours had sent your stomach doing flips, causing a wave nausea.

Whatever awaited you, one thing was certain: you weren’t just cleaning up a mess. You were walking straight into one.

[slytheringangstuff]

𝒟𝓇𝒶𝑔 𝓆𝓊𝑒𝑒𝓃 𝒹𝒶𝓃𝒸𝒾𝓃𝑔

*Draco dancing in “private”*

Draco: *gets into position*

Pansy: Oh lord!

Draco: *bevelles foot*

Theo: Look, he’s got his foot bevelled.

Matteo: Ohh.

Draco: *cocks head*

y/n: Oh the heads gone.

Draco: *flips hands like the queen he is*

Astoria: Oh god!

y/n: The torpedoes are out!

Pansy: Draco loves himself a drag queen dance.

Blaise: Oh lord, help us all.

Theo: Oh watch out.

y/n: Everybody, get out your mental scrub brush.

Enzo: Okay, here he goes.

Theo: I hope he didn’t do that for his date.

Blaise: Oh, the wrists are in limp.

Matteo: Gross.

y/n: Whatever that move is- 

Draco: *quick struts forwards*

y/n:

y/n: Ahhhhh!

Theo: Oh my god. I think he thinks he looks good doing that stuff.

Astoria: I don’t think that looks good.