To Be Loved By Tom Riddle

to be loved by tom riddle

summary: Tom Riddle is in no way the perfect lover, but he tries, he always does, for you.

Tom Riddle is far from perfect, and deep inside, even his narcissistic self knows that. Being a lover, your lover, he has been discovering many new things about himself. Before, he wasn't even aware that he was capable of loving someone, due to what he went through, due to the lack of love he had before. Before you.

He tries, though. Your dark and power-hungry lover always tries to love you properly.

Tom Riddle, who loves you beautifully in his own way, who prepares a note while confessing to you, only to tuck it into his pocket after folding it, and look at your properly. Love flowing from his eloquent confession and passion evident in his eyes, as he holds your hand softly—his grip like his love; soft and uncertain, yet not wanting to let go, wanting to hold on. Scared, yet willing.

("There is nothing I find more beautiful than you, and my heart beats violently when you are around, even at the thought of you. After a long time of contemplation, the only reason for this is..."

"Love?" you supplies softly.

He falters, his mask crumbling slightly as he nods. Scared. He then regains his composure and says, "That is my assumption, yes.")

Your lover, who hesitates in abandoning his dream to achieve more power, to be Lord Voldemort. The same hesitation that dissipates whenever his mind drifts to you, and he knows that if he continues, he cannot be with you. It physically makes his heart ache, to leave what he wants the most, but you, just you, can easily cure that ache of his. He knows then, that it isn't power that he wants the most. As he thinks about your heart that reciprocates his love and your beautiful mind that is perhaps (and hopefully, he adds desperately) thinking of him as well, he comes to a decision, for a future with you in it.

Tom Riddle, who despises physical touch, simply because he doesn't understand it, doesn't understand how it matters to most people he knows. He flinches, when you rest your hand on top of his. There was a moment of silence between you two, as you look into each other's eyes.

("Why?" he asks.

"To show that I love you.")

He hates that, how forward you can be with your feelings, how he can't do the same. He tries to be like you, to make sure to show that his feelings for you are clear. He realises that this is him showing that he loves you too.

Your lover, who chases after your touch despite the voice at the back of his head telling him that it's unlike him to do so. His dark eyes closing when he feels your familiar hand on his cheek, and his warm hand catching your wrist when your hand pulls away, only to let it go when he realises that he's doing things on impulse now, always whenever you start touching him.

("And every time my skin brushes against yours, even just a light touch—it just... astounds me," he explains.

You hummed, as your hand hovers over his, silently asking for permission.

Please, he wants to say. He decides to nod instead.)

Tom Riddle, who still craves for Dark Magic, only to remind himself that you, you, you—that you're his, and that he shouldn't risk that, risk losing you.

Your lover, who always finds a way to make the things that he wants work, who caves in to temptation and continues using Dark Magic, except that now, it's for you. The excitement he feels when performing Dark Magic on the ones that hurt you, on the ones that cause even the slightest frown on your lips.

Tom Riddle, who doesn't understand how you can keep on loving him even after finding out what he does to people who do you wrong.

("I'm sorry—"

"I should be sorry. I'm sorry that you feel like you have to hide this from me.")

He comes to a realisation that this is love, to accept everything about the one you love. This is you accepting him.

Your lover, who takes care of you without realising it himself. A hair clip that he keeps in his pocket for when your hair falls to your face while you're doing work, a scrutinising gaze being sent your way because you seem a little down instead of directly asking you about it, because that's how he is, and the fast steps that he makes whenever you two reach the door of your destination, just so he could open it for you. Only when he finds two hair clips in his pocket that he notices the little things he has been doing for you.

Tom Riddle, who learns that he cannot win everything. Despite how much you two love each other, it cannot easily change the massive ego he has and his astonishing stubbornness. He always feels the need to win, and that includes arguments. He hates how you have the same massive ego and astonishing stubbornness he has.

He pauses at this thought. He should learn to accept you, and all your flaws, shouldn't he? He tends to be harsh when he wants to win, completely disregarding any feelings. He immediately blurts out an apology, earning a very confused "Huh?"

Your lover, who loves you too much because he has never loved anyone like this. You can even say it's obsession, or something close to it. He has to know every thought that occurs in your mind, and every plan that you decide to make.

He explains it's only because he's afraid that you would get away from him, in which you have to explain that you are not going anywhere at all. You mention how he has to trust you.

Tom Riddle, who likes the idea of trust between the two of you, and wonders just how much you trust him. He feels himself getting lost when he sees you trembling and breathless. It then instantly clicks, and he has seen this before. Once again, he's grateful for his constant curiosity.

He holds onto both of your hands, making sure you're looking at him. His soft voice reminds you to breathe, to look at him and only him. He doesn't know how much time has passed, nor does he care—it always feels timeless with you anyway.

As he's engulfed by your arms afterwards, receiving gratitude from you, he feels lucky to be the one that you're able to be vulnerable around. Trust, he thinks.

You're always so strong, for him and for everyone else. Despite how, sometimes, he can see that you're putting up a mask, you always appear strong. This vulnerable side of yours doesn't make you weak, now that you've shown him. It only makes him think that you're so much stronger. Trust, he repeats.

Your lover, who loves you beautifully, and learns to love you beautifully. Your lover, Tom Riddle.

Summerween | Charles Leclerc

SUMMARY: y/n's second favorite thing in the world is summerween, her first thing is matching costumes with her boyfriend FACE CLAIM: Emma chamberlain pairings: YouTube! Reader x Charles Leclerc a/n: another update to make up for my disappearance

y/nnnn via instagram!

liked by olivia.rodrigo, landonorris and 1,291,810 more.

y/nnnn guess who’s blonde now!

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user16 why are f1 drivers lurking in her likes

-> user67 she's not ours now!

-> user17 let's be real she has always had a big following, she was never yours to begin with

lilymhe my favorite blonde!

sabrinacarpenter omg! now you are the hottest blonde in the world

user167 she has more grid followers than logan, what the hell

user17 isn’t that the girl that’s rumored to be dating charles?

-> user89 that girl has a name! she’s a youtuber get your facts straight

user59 omg! does this have to do anything with ur summer seen look?!?

-> user71 is she going to be Hannah Montana? or a powerpuff girl

charles_leclerc via insta stories! y/nnnn via insta stories!

y/nupdates via instagram!

liked by user15, charles_leclerc and 2,000 more likes

y/nupdates y/n in her new vlog was talking about her annual summerween party. "I'm so so excited for you guys to see my duo costume"

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user18 omg! this vlog was so so good!!

user27 I love summerween y/n!

user28 this era is her best era

user278 y/n's blonde era for the win

user78 what is summerween?

-> user532 it basically a halloween party but in summer time! Y/n loves halloween so much she does it two times a year. She has been doing this for about five + years now

user37 is Sabrina going to be in a duo with her?

user90 why is Charles in the likes

charles_leclerc duo?

-> user15 what does this even mean?!

y/nnnn via instagram!

liked by sabrinacarpenter, lilymhe and 4,390,292 more likes

y/nnnn summerween this year was different, introducing couple costumes this year!

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user18 OMG?!?!?!

user27 who is this?!?!?!

user37 wait since when does y/n have a boyfriend

user327 I need a stalker fan account to find out who's body is that

-> user902 that is 100% Charles Leclerc no doubt

user92 she is breaking the internet as always

user19 omg! y/n updates uploaded the full body pics!!! ITS CHARLES

-> user37 who the fuck is Charles

->user2802 F1 driver I think?

y/nupdates via instagram!

liked by carlossainz55, landonorris and 10,000 more

y/nupdates y/n l/n and charles leclerc leaving her summerween party

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user17 omg so it is real?!?!?!

user28 I never would've thought I was going to see Charles in a dress but what a good day to be alive

user29 this is so fucking cute! y/n has always said she wanted to do matching costumes with someone and it finally happened

user71 this is so full circle I love it

user891 they could be just friends, you guys are so insane

-> user15 please shut up

user289 that's why he was liking things revolving her

user218 "duo?"

user219 I love when they play with us

y/nnnn via instagram stories! charles_leclerc via instagram stories!

y/nnnn via instagram!

liked by charles_leclerc, sabrinacarpenter and 10,039,290 more.

y/nnnn happiest when I'm with you

view all comments

user78 I guess the cat is out of the bag

olivia.rodrigo can he fight?

user1902 omg! guys im obsessed with them

user378 this is so so amazing

user45 guys guys guys

user19 THEY HAVE BEEN TOGETHER BEFORE SHE WAS BLONDE

user139 they have to be dating ver since y/n showed up to a formula 1 race, it was like 3 years ago

user12 aaaaaaaa

user28 omg! what is this?

user45 what a good day to be a f1 and y/n fan

charles_leclerc so happy when I'm with you

717 notes View Post

lobespals

11 months ago

BIRTHDAY PRINCESS ꪆৎ CL16

“Don’t fall, don’t fall, don’t fall.” He murmurs carefully gliding across the wooden flooring towards your bedroom.

Hands holding onto a breakfast tray filled with a vast selection of your favourite fruit, coffee, eggs and of course your birthday cake.

Strawberries, cherries, blueberries and bananas all cut up and prettily put into a pearly white bowl.

Sitting in the very middle of the tray a gorgeous white chocolate, lemon and raspberry bento cake iced in pink with the words ‘happy birthday, mon amour’ steals the show.

He’d be lying if he said he made it himself, God only knows what would have happened to you and your poor stomach should he have made a Charles special birthday cake.

His teeth still rung from his last attempt at a making a homemade meal for date night, pizza? More like chewing gum.

“Leo, Leoooo, viens, réveillons la princesse d'anniversaire!” The puppy excitedly wags his tiny tail, trotting on his legs and nuzzling into Charles’ feet. ( Come along, let’s wake the birthday princess up! )

Pushing the door open with his hip he grimaces as the cool door comes in contact with his bare skin, he looks to make sure you’re still asleep and smiles when he notices you covered under the large mound of the duvet with Leo laying at your feet having jumped up to snuggle near you.

He places the breakfast tray down and rushes softly and carefully to bring in the prettiest bouquet of pink flowers wrapped in brown paper and sealed with a soft white bow.

You’re the light of his life, he thinks as he moves towards you, seating himself on the edge of your side of the bed with a clear view of your cheeks smushed into the cool pillow — that he’s sure you unconsciously flipped not too long ago — and eyes covered with a silky champagne coloured eye mask.

He runs his knuckles down your cheek, unable to contain himself from feeling just a little bit of you in the calm of the morning.

“Mon trèsor, it’s your birthday. Joyeaux anniversaire.” The words are whispered and cool against your cheek, as he smears kisses over the tiny shred of skin peeking through the covers.

“Aren’t you so excited?” He smiles indulgent and kind to your whining in the morning, chuckling as you pull your head from the pillow and into his lap.

Stroking your hair softly he whispers kisses wherever he can find, “Come on darling girl, J'ai tous tes favoris ici, Leo aussi” ( I have all your favourites here, Leo too.” )

Separating your head from his lap — albeit reluctantly — he gets up to bring you the breakfast he’s prepared, that is most definitely edible, he checked too!

“See!” Rising slowly and pulling off your sleep mask, you blink at your boyfriend and the breakfast that he’s brought with him, eyes clumping with remnants of sleeping and working hard to clear any bleariness you smile at him all gentle and sweet, sending his heart into a right tizzy.

Grinning at you he cocks his head upwards a bit towards your headboard silently asking you to sit up, then placing the breakfast tray on your lap and joining you by your feet, next to a now dozing Leo.

“Happy birthday, amour.” Handing you flowers with one hand he rubs your leg with the other.

You smile bringing them up to your nose. “Thank you, Charlie.”

“Leo would tell you happy birthday too, but he’s very tired you see.”

Laughing at your sleeping dog you nod. “Is he?”

“Oh yes! It’s very hard to nap while someone’s making noise in the kitchen, Leo’s an absolute star for doing so without waking up.” He exaggerates his words with finesse, stroking Leo’s head and smiling up at you.

You giggle hands coming over your face as a bashful expression takes over Charles, he’s sure that no matter how long you two date he’s always going to be in awe of you, in awe of everything you do and say.

He’s sure the you could make the simplest thing in the world better, and he’s thankful everyday that he has the ability to make you laugh and bring you pockets of joy in your saddest moments, and further sweeten your happiest of days.

And this is the ideal ‘happy day’. It’s a birthday, your birthday. And he’ll be damned if it isn’t perfect.

He gets up slowly, walking over to you a lighter in his hand. “Cut the cake amour!”

He lights the candles on the cake and sings softly, “happy birthday to you…”.

He pecks your nose and pulls his phone out, positioning it towards you he snaps a few photos and continues singing softly as you smile over at him.

“Je t’aime tellement.”

“Je t’aime tellement aussi Cha, merci!” He moves forward and kisses your knuckles feeding you a bit of the cake.

“You don’t have to thank me my love, ever.” You smile pulling him in for a kiss, noses brushing and smiles joining, pulling away to laugh only when you feel the patter of a now awake Leo.

“Of course, he wakes up when he smells the food!”

“Oh Charlie, I hope this isn’t another pizza incident.”

“No! I checked this time amour I promise!”

“Okay Cha.”

And when you both fell ill the next day Charles swore it was the sushi you had for dinner and absolutely not the three day expired milk he unknowingly mixed in with the eggs.

⋆⭒˚.⋆

love note , this is super cute and fluffy, and i’m so tired cause i’ve written this at 4:30 am, but thank you sm for requesting!! i hope you liked this <33

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lobespals

11 months ago

SKINCARE BABE ꪆৎ CL16

blurb . requested . fluff and comfort

“How do you not get confused at all?” Charles mumbles in awe of your skincare collection, staring at the jars and tubes of different sizes that sit prettily in organised containers on the large vanity of your bathroom.

You shrug, pulling him lightly by his knuckles towards a seat facing your bathroom mirror. “You get used to it, now sit!”

He smiles softly taking a seat on the cushioned stool next to yours, nodding as you pull out an array of different types of face masks to try with him.

“I have so many fun ones we can do! There’s this clay mask, this gel one, that’s a sheet mask, and then this one peels off.” A delicately manicured finger pulls out the containers and thin boxes from cabinets and lays them down in front of him.

He doesn’t quite know what you’re saying at all, the words mostly fly over his head and he doesn’t understand much of what you’re saying, except that maybe the world has far too many face masks to choose from, but he knows he can listen to you prattle on for hours on end about sheet masks, gel under eye patches, everything really, and never tire.

You hum in concentration, still looking through drawers for anything you may be missing to show him, completely unaware of your boyfriends’ attention being solely on you rather than your skincare.

“You’re so beautiful, you know?” He murmurs smiling up at you.

Your hands pause in their movements, a pretty flush creeping up your cheeks and down your neck, only endearing you more to him.

His hands come to rub at his chest unconsciously still staring at you in awe, a soft gooey feeling coating him turning his eyes into hearts and making his brain go almost numb.

‘’Tellement jolie.” He smiles, large hands carefully sliding around your waist and pulling you closer to stand in front of him, chin resting on the pretty pink silk robe that coats your body. ( so pretty )

“Mon belle amour, comment ai-je eu autant de chance?” He wonders, laughing softly when your hands bashfully come up to cover your face, french glossy nails shining in the light. ( my beautiful love, how did i get so lucky? )

“Charlie!” You whine, dragging out his name in exasperation mumbling a shy I love you, that’s incredibly well received if his ear splitting grin and giggle are anything to go by.

He tugs you onto his lap, making sure you’re comfortable, hands still woven tightly around your waist, his head in the crook of your neck, he smears a soft kiss on your shoulders and nudges you to the face masks again.

“Tell me what face mask you like the most mon beau.” You pull out a small glass pot labeled ‘volcanic clay mask’ and he fights all his inner questions down when you start rattling off its benefits of how it minimises pores and helps target fine lines?

“Okay amour, will you put it on for me?” He smiles cheesily, pushing his face forward and turning you around in his hold.

“We have to push your hair back first love.” You pull out a brand new headband from the drawer next to you and present it to him, grinning at his loud bark of laughter at the lightning mcqueen skincare headband in front of of him.

“Oh my God!”

“You like it?” You question, happiness bubbling inside you.

Nodding eagerly he lets you slip it onto his head and push back his hair “Love it! Love you, so much, Je t’aime mon coeur.”

“Je t’aime aussi Cha.”

“Wow, I am going to be the coolest in the paddock, Lightning mcqueen headband? Max is going to be so jealous.”

love note , hi i hope you guys liked this!! i’m not the most pleased with this but i had the teeniest crumb of inspo to write and it’s 4:20 am (again) so please bear with me!! but i found the idea cute and i was struggling to put it into words, but it is what it is! also i have a bunch of reqs in my inbox that i promos i’ll get to, but i’m recovering from the most disgusting flu and have the most awful writers block, so we’ll go slow and steady!! anyways happy reading mwah xx

465 notes View Post

lobespals

11 months ago

PRETTY IN PINK ୨୧

♡: when an unfamiliar face tries to steal you away, oscar is there to remind them that you are his.

notes: oscar piastri/reader, established relationship, protective & somewhat possessive demeanour, unwelcome attention from strangers, pet names, fluff, kisses & hugs.

– based on this request ☁️

word count: 1.8k

a/n: thank you nonnie & i love this req since i am the pretty-pink girl of my neighbourhood lol. as some know, i am not much of a lover of toxic tropes or that dark romance genre so i apologise if this isn’t the kind of ‘possessive’ you were thinking of, i was craving some soft & loving osc. <3

♡ ✧ 。*・.

The aroma of petrichor against warm pastries from the L'Amour du Pain Vieux bakery nearby lingers, skies over Montréal grey with the lull of clouds where hints of the early afternoon light dance through and upon the Circuit Gilles Villeneuve below, a gentle remnant of dampness about the smooth stone streets from rainfall earlier in the hour that has since come to a halt.

With qualifying to commence in a few hours – highlighting the true beginning of the Canadian Grand Prix where your boyfriend hopes to secure the finest result possible – there is a heightening feel about the paddock as you wander through, latte of oat-milk and vanilla balanced in one soft-skinned hand, donned in your favourite, little dress like blushing, pale peonies.

After an early albeit comfortable, familiar morning waking beside Oscar in your shared hotel suite amongst the quiet luxury of pretty, minimal décor – mussed bed sheets of lush cotton, cashmere throws and interlocked limbs – shared, slow kisses and breakfast consisting of sweet, syruped pancakes and coffee, before greeting the true day ahead, you are most excited.

Amongst conversational journalists with inviting, saccharine smiles merely for enticement and photographers who do not hesitate to notice your face, the lovely and pretty diamond that is Oscar Piastri's lovable girlfriend, you have never quite opposed to the media attention so long as you have him by your side.

"Hm." Chanel ballet flats of embroidered ivory and light-pink clicking on the path, comforted by your sweet treat in hand whilst balancing your iPhone in the other – a brief conversation with your lover concluding he would be busy for another couple of minutes at least due to press conferences – you are mostly contently lost in your own daydreams.

"Excuse me?"

It is the sound of a voice addressed in your direction that has you faltering in your gait, pretty head tilting just the slightest to glimpse over your shoulder just as the sudden voice and approach of a male has you somewhat shy.

"Sorry, I feel like I know you from somewhere," He is youthful, perhaps the same age or a year older than the aforementioned by looks, dressed rather comfortably in a clean, white shirt of linen only half-buttoned against the beige hues of his trousers, Française Cartier watch glinting on his wrist.

His mouth curves on a smile, eyes like caramel dancing over your face and lower until he allows himself the fleeting, silent glance at how the neat edges of your mini dress hug your thighs before straightening his stance once again, lithe fingers threading through his styled, light hair.

The words leave you a touch perplexed given you certainly do not recognise him and lack any recollection of his face, laughing uncertainly as you tuck a stray hair behind the shell of your ear with the clink of a rose quartz bracelet about your wrist, the sound sweet as an angel's.

"I'm sorry, I don't think–"

"It's alright, I don't either." The man continues with an amiable shrug as though pretending to understand or assume what you had been meaning to say, countenance turning more charismatic on the edge of a revealed dimple, "My name's Jacques, love."

There is something in his gaze and the execution of his demeanour which has you hesitating, rosebud mouth parted ajar whilst you glance about momentarily even when the hint of a natural, polite smile remains.

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Jacques," You reply quietly, the expression you hold towards him is a pleasant one despite yourself, although not enough to reveal the slight discomfort that lurks in the depths of your stomach, "But my boyfriend is–"

"Right here."

As if the mention or mere thought of him was an innate manifestation, you are greeted with the presence of a certain, handsome individual where you recognise the warmth of his aura just as fingertips are felt on the curve of your vertebrae against a splayed palm.

You cannot deny or refuse the immediate beginnings of a soft smile and the ease flourishing within you as soon as his touch is known, the lingering scent of his cologne with hints of patchouli and rosewood permeating, an incline of your head allowing gazes to meet momentarily in mutual greeting.

He stands tall beside you, the limb draped around your waist a familiar presence whilst eyes of an intimate, rich hue that remind you of coffee and autumn dance between yourself and the other man who now stands a touch awkwardly with a dissuaded visage.

"Is this man bothering you, princess?" His tone is honey-like, a smooth and lowered baritone that you adore, though there is the telltale sign of his fingertips that press a touch firmer against your hipbone, and the arch of a brow, that demonstrates the silent brewing of protectiveness in the midst of his affections for you. Oscar Piastri is an affectionate sweetheart, true to his feelings and honest in generosity with the renowned presence of patience, though can be a defensive figure when the subject concerns his girl.

"Not really. He was just being friendly," Your cadence is light and sweet with imploration, the subtle gesture of a kiss left against his cheekbone in comforting warmth as you balance on the edge of your toes momentarily.

You are sweet, almost too much so with your pretty looks and the faint glimpses of innocence there even though you know exactly where you stand; it has Oscar longing to return to the quiet privacy of home where nobody will harass you both for attention, where he can have you to himself even if only for a little while.

Jacques chuckles, almost uncertainly in a manner that juxtaposes his previous incentive whilst tucking one palm into the concealing wool of his tailored slacks when he nods, "I was just saying 'hello', no harm done."

The Australian does not seem particularly reassured though there is no instigation for a disagreement, looking over the other only a moment longer without another word before he's silently coaxing you against his side when he walks with a gait somewhat quicker than his usual.

"Wait," Your kissable lips touch a little upward in uncertain wonder, though you follow his guidance easily, a touch intrigued by his lingering silence that lacks explanation, "Where are we headed? Was I doing something wrong?"

There is no initial comfort or answer to your inquiries as he looks forward, evidently lost to his own thoughts whilst internally calming himself from the dwindling ache of his possession over you, a muscle in the line of his jaw shifting almost imperceptibly.

A boring press conference consisting of being asked the same questions like a repetitive, tedious dance had already left him a touch bitter, and the sight of a stranger trying to steal his girlfriend's attention away only aggravates him further.

Eventually, your shared walk leads to the quieter alcoves of the McLaren hospitality comforts until he's nudging you backwards through a white-varnished door, breathing in the sweetness of your perfume – Good Girl: Blush – with hints of almond against sweet peonies, vanilla and coumarin.

"You weren't doing anything wrong," Oscar murmurs, his arm entwined securely about your figure as his lips ghost over the outer shell of your ear near the glimmer of divine, embellished earrings he gifted you on your birthday after he had seen you admiring them through the glass of a jewellery shop once, swallowing slowly.

It is a quiet, comfortable room – one that he often confides in the refuge of when in need of fleeing from the never-ending attention and demands of his profession, an inviting, plush chaise lounge of white cushioning, shelves and cupboards of various items.

Your glossed, pouted lips touch into a delicate pout of mystery, a gentle sound of consideration and acknowledgement leaving the back of your throat whilst arms drape loosely around his neck, the edges of your thumbs tracing along his nape where you feel the soft hairs there.

"Then what was it?"

"Nothing." It is an uncharacteristically brief reply, though the manner his lightly-calloused palms cradle the small of your waist until he cannot quite restrain himself from the tightened grasp there with a brief glance towards the closed door, exhaling through his teeth in some kind of defeat, "I'm... Do you want me to be honest?"

The question is uttered so softly that the question leaves you a fraction breathless, heart thrumming within the interns of your rib cage like a dove locked away as you nod.

"I always want the truth from you, Ossie," You respond in a lull so saccharine it sounds like a sing-song of delight, the edge of your index finger and thumb dancing downwards against the soft fabric of his sweater before pausing when you meet his eyes through your lashes.

Oscar sighs, though there is the slightest of reservations of a smile the corners of his mouth at the manner in which you address him, a nickname reserved especially for when the two of you are alone together and intimate.

He does not immediately bless you with an answer, tilting your head towards him in silent, shared invitation before your mouths melt together. It is slow and sweet, tasting one another and your belongings forgotten on the nearby, makeshift desk of polished oak, a sweetened hint of café au lait on your tongue.

"Seeing that man," He begins between chaste kisses, not quite allowing you the liberty of shying away as he holds you close until your back nudges the ivory-coated wall behind, near drawn photographs of memorabilia from old Grand Prixes, "And how he looked at you, it made me want to–"

He pauses, inhaling audibly as though trying to meditate on his own emotions in that moment, his hands feeling over your body like a sculptor and his finest work before he swallows the remainder of his sentence with a kiss.

Oscar Piastri is an undeniably attractive man when he's possessive over you, touching every inch of you like his belongings, muttered sweet nothings and vows of devotions against your tongue. It is a warm feeling, knowing he will always protect you without hesitance. And he does, cherishes you like the pretty doll you seem to be, because he cares in some earnest, undying reality.

"I love you."

The punctuation of another kiss, "I love you more." And he traces the jut of your ribs through the thin, velveteen fabric of your rosé dress when he holds you close until you're flush together, sighing against your lips, "I will never let anybody hurt you, ever. Understood?"

"I understand."

♡ ✧ 。*・.

767 notes View Post

lobespals

6 months ago

— midnights like this ꣑ৎ‧₊˚.

warnings: none pairings: husband! percy jackson x wife! reader a/n: prue writes an irrelevant blurb instead of finishing the 20 sitting in her drafts? yep sounds like her! 😊

no… yes… no… yes… no

no. it wasn’t fair that just because percy couldn’t sleep that means that you shouldn’t be able to sleep either. though, you were his wife, you should share struggles with him. but he was utterly bored. but you looked so peaceful. your lips slightly parted, breathing in and out slowly, your features delicate as you softly slept, your hair disoriented yet you still managed to look like a goddess. percy switched his position to be laying on his side, turning his full attention to your sleeping self. maybe he should just wake you…

no! he stops those thoughts quickly. but you always said if he couldn’t sleep to feel free to wake you up, but then in the morning you would be tired and he would feel guilty. this is surely a conundrum he’s in. he sighs and watches, hoping just his gaze will be enough to wake you from your slumber (it’s not). okay, next attempt. firstly, he pecks your nose, trailing to each of your pink cheeks, to your forehead and back to your nose once more. you still lay sleeping

it’s fine, he totally didn’t want to wake you anyways

but he so wants you to!! maybe if he uses his telepathic-married couple senses you’ll open your eyes. he closes his own tightly and wishes for you to wake up on your own will. he doesn’t open them until he feels you begin to stir, then his eyes widen and meet yours— fluttering open slowly. in a golden retriever like manner he squeals like a child and wraps you up in his arms tightly, three quarters asleep, you let him do so

“what’re you doing?” you murmur quietly

“I couldn’t sleep, I think I’ve been up for an hour now? I’ve been waiting for you to wake up, I used my telepathic powers and you woke up! isn’t that great?”

“… yeah” you’re too sleepy to care or respond properly. percy can’t find it in himself to care about your lack of response, he was just happy you had woke

“are you going back to sleep?”

you shake your head. “you woke me up, idiot”

“sorry about that” he laughs (he’s so not!!)

you sit up, now wide awake thanks to your husband. “now what were you saying about telepathy?”

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lobespals

1 year ago

lover - oscar piastri

summary: y/n is a songwriter who writes plenty of songs however no one realizes that they're made by her (and about oscar hehe)!

a/n: the outcomes of the races are fictional, and the order in which these songs have been written (assume fearless was written this year ygwim?). also no face claim!!

liked by yukitsunoda, oscarpiastri, and 33, 287 others ynusername romance is not dead if you keep it just yours! lovelovelove being able to come home for race day!! i'm so proud of u osc 🩷

oscarpiastri I'm so lucky 🥰 liked by ynusername

user27633 Y/N IS A SWIFTIE CONFIRMED!?!?!

ynusername of course!!

user16372 u literally take the cutest photos of oscar

user82537 y/n quoting paris... i'm so up

yukitsunoda 😆😆

landonorris You're my favourite wag

ynusername wow how considerate

liked by taylorswift, landonorris, and 1, 287, 387 others oscarpiastri Unwinding before Japan 👊

ynusername tehee we're cute

oscarpiastri You're cuter landonorris Get a room

taylorswift ooooh she's working hard @ ynusername

user62584 WHAT THE FUCK ARE U DOING HERE???

user98274 OSCAR IS FRIENDS WITH TAYLOR HUH

user61192 i did not expect to see taylor in the comments of oscar's post tagging y/n!

user92898 no fr like what is going on

user93829 Everyone shut up about taylor look at the beauty that is y/n omd

view ynusername's story...

liked by jackantonoff, phoebebridgers, and 55, 918, 278 others taylorswift In honour of my album 'The Tortured Poets Department' release a week ago, I wanted to thank my biggest musical inspirations! Thank you Jack, Lana, and Y/N for helping me the best artist I could possibly be, without you'd guys I'd be nowhere (thank you y/n for writing the cheesiest, cutest, sexiest songs ever)!!

user51862 who is y/n

user01827 She's dating f1 driver oscar piastri but also now apparently a songwriter idk...

user72973 Wdym thanks y/n for writing?? you're telling me the twitter stans were right??

user62863 y/n is singlehandedly uniting f1 and the swifties

ynusername thank u tay 💓💓

user52868 Girl has been living a double life

user51929 ohhh so this is why taylor was commenting on oscar's post😭

liked by oscarpiastri, taylorswift, and 108, 276 others ynusername well now that the cat is out of the bag, who wants to hear a story? i assume u all said yes.

on one of our first dates, oscar made me a bracelet (yes that one) and i thought (and still think) that it was one of the most romantic gestures. so obviouslyyy i wrote 'lover' about him hehe. yes we only knew each other for at most three months when i wrote it, but i love him so much, he's my forever.

oscarpiastri I love having a singer for a girlfriend (wife one day)

ynusername hello cat boy

user18739 You're telling me that taylor's most romantic song is literally written by my favourite wag about my favourite driver?? i might pass out

ynusername haha yes! i write a lot of songs for tay

landonorris So this song is basically about ur delusions liked by ynusername

user52863 oh now i need to know exactly what songs you've written

user20939 AND PLEASE RECORD COVERS OF THEM TOO

lilymhe wait so you've been friends with taylor the whole time...

lilymhe AND THE SONG THAT I WANT PLAYED AT MY WEDDING IS WRITTEN ABOUT OSCAR?? ynusername oh my god lily HAHA

let me know if you liked this!! i know it's super short but i'm seriously lacking inspo and ideas omd. also i literally love oscar so much.

i'm also working on a few reqs, so if you have a suggestion or request, let me know because i'd love to do it!!

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