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sunkissedscribbles · 9 months ago

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Mattheo Riddle's Guide To Win Y/N's Heart

pairing: mattheo x fem!reader (house not clarified)

genre: fluff

tw: my bad writing

word count: 1532

summary: mattheo's desperately trying to lure you in by using psychological tricks on you.

a/n: okay, this one might not be the best, but it's sweet. also, i wrote this in the middle of the night lol

masterlist

dividers by @chachachannah

It all started a week ago when Mattheo strutted into the Great Hall in the morning with that stupid, confident grin plastered across his lips.

“It’s 7:30. In the morning,” Theo raised an eyebrow at him as to why he was in a good mood so early for his liking.

“I have the master plan to get Y/N to date me,” Mattheo stated proudly, to which Enzo and Theo shared a look, and the latter snorted a laugh.

“And how are you gonna do that, Casanova?” Pansy chimed in too.

“Psychology,” Mattheo shrugged simply, deeply believing that his master plan would work perfectly.

He read in Enzo’s book that if you want to be appealing to a woman, you should sit across her at a table and if about to win a man’s heart, you should sit right beside him. So, the first trick he tried was sitting across you at the table in all cases, even if it meant two people — including you — sitting on the one side and five people squeezed together on the one across because Mattheo wanted to sit across you with millimeter accuracy. First, you didn’t understand it one bit. You only sensed Mattheo growing weirder by the day and your friends having more fun directly proportionally and putting two and two together, you realized these two are actually related.

The next thing was wearing red. Now this one was a hilarious one; on Tuesday afternoon when you, Enzo, and Mattheo were due to study together for Arithmancy (which, may I mention, Mattheo only took up because you did so too), Mattheo slumped down on the chair across you at the table in the library, wearing a Gryffindor hoodie.

“What on earth-“ Enzo shook his head in disbelief but you had to fight back a loud outburst of laughter.

“Hi, Y/N,” Mattheo grinned confidently but you shook your head with a grin still lingering on your lips.

“Whose is this?” you nodded in the direction of the hoodie hugging his upper body.

See, the problem with wearing red was that he didn’t own a single clothing piece of the colour, so he had to think outside the box and be creative for this one.

He looked down nonchalantly and shrugged with that familiar smirk. “Longbottom’s. I’m sure he doesn’t mind.”

Enzo buried his face into his hands next to you, trying to hold a groan back from escaping as your mouth hung open and your eyes widened. “He doesn’t know?”

“His door was open…”

You, knowing Mattheo, lifted your eyebrows in disbelief as he clearly didn’t tell the exact truth.

“Well- it wasn’t open, but soon it opened magically and I took it as an invitation…”

“You Alohomora’d his door to get a burgundy hoodie for Merlin-knows-what?”

“Well, y- wait. Burgundy? This is red,” Mattheo shook his head as he stiffened. He was convinced it was pure red — boys and their eyes for colours, huh?

Enzo snorted a laugh finally, knowing exactly Mattheo was trying to use the ‘red makes you appear more attractive’ law of psychology on you and he technically failed.

“No, darling, this is burgundy,” you chuckle which by the way, Mattheo found adorable, even in the middle of his embarrassment, plus, you called him darling — so he took it that you actually fell for his trick and, well, for him too.

But of course, there were things in Enzo’s psychology book Mattheo didn’t even think of doing. This was, for one, playing hard to get. Because he knew his eyes would have failed him every time he’d tried to close you out, and he knew exactly how well you were able to see right through him. You being concerned about him was also a problem with this because as Pansy once absent-mindedly drew his attention to how you noticed people’s energies shift pretty quickly, he had to close this option out completely.

Another one was putting on a cocky, intimidating, or prideful look because of the same reason; you noticing the energy shifts, and because no matter how hard he’d tried, that stupid grin had grown on him and your sight only fueled it.

He tried mirroring your body language, too. You were leaning forward at breakfast, tiredly resting against the wooden dining table? He was sitting opposite you, sitting as if he was actually in your mirror. You ran a hand through your hair? Guess what, he had to scratch his head. Even when your leg was bouncing nervously under the desk in History of Magic, he sure mirrored it.

You weren’t oblivious to this either, and you knew something was up — but you simply thought he was playing a prank on you. And your friends being awfully quiet whenever you brought up how weird Mattheo was being around you only added to your suspicion.

“I see” was a common way for him to start whatever he had on his mind. Because, research by MIT showed that women were more attracted to men who used the phrases “I see,” “Okay,” and “Yep.” And for him, he used them until he’s grown sick of them.

But of all the things he’d tried, his favourite — and yours too — was touching. Touching you had always lightened his day, even if it was just a tap on your shoulder to enquire about the time. And his touch provided reassurance for you, whenever he touched you for even a split second you knew you had someone to count on, someone to be comforted by. When you were tired in class he had a shoulder to offer for you to rest your head on (not Theo though because he could go fuck himself rather than sleep on his best friend’s shoulder, respectfully, in the best friend in question’s opinion.) When you were anxious, he chose to put his quill down and not take notes, rather have his hand comforting you by rubbing little circles on your thigh just above your knee (and sometimes a little too high), having his arm around you or playing with your hair, saying he’d borrow your notes later to catch up, which he never did.

However, things haven’t changed for two more weeks. And, as time went on, Mattheo grew more and more desperate, seeking the moment he could finally hold you in his arms and kiss the life out of you. He was waiting for the moment when he could confess his love to you — or, which would have been more convenient, and a whole ego boost for him, to have you come crawling by yourself, singing odes about him. But he realized it was a rather unlikely scenario that lived rent-free in his head.

“That book sucks,” Mattheo complained to Enzo one evening in the common room frustratedly as he sank into the green velvet material of the couch.

“Why so?” Enzo didn’t even look up from his Transfiguration essay he was desperately trying to put a dot on the end of for an hour.

“‘Cause I tried everything! And Y/N still doesn’t have a clue how I love her,” he let out a grunt as he let his head fall back against the backrest of the sofa and rubbed his closed eyes tiredly. “She’s still not into me.”

“I am into you,” your voice came down on him like a rain of cold ice. After nagging for two whole weeks, Pansy agreed to fill you in about what Mattheo called his master plan, and you finally understood what it was all about.

Mattheo’s eyes shot open to see he hasn’t hallucinated your reassuring words in that sweet tone you always talk to him with, and to make sure you are very physically standing there. He quickly got up from where he was and sat on the couch next to Enzo, who seemed to be in a completely other world with how concentrated he was on his Transfiguration homework.

Mattheo quickly made his way over to you, standing just a few feet apart with that stupid grin already growing on his lips as he took you, your gorgeous figure, bright smile, and shiny eyes in. “Are you now, princess?” He asked in a tone sweet like honey while tugging a strand of hair behind your ear.

You rolled your eyes at him before taking a step closer to the point that your chests were grinding against each other, to Mattheo’s biggest pleasure. And before he knew it, your lips came crashing against his in a long-awaited kiss and his arms slithered around your waist so naturally like they were made to be resting there. However, you pulled away after a few seconds before it could’ve got a little too carried away. “Did you really steal Longbottom’s hoodie so that I’d find you more attractive?” You chuckled with a touched but still a little mocking smile.

“Borrowed it. I returned it after you told me it wasn’t the right colour,” he rolled his eyes at you too, but he was the happiest guy on earth right then and there because he had all right to wrap his arms around you like a shield, protecting you from the world and its horrible people.

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thatdammchickennugget · 3 months ago

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the hottest one masterlist (firefighter!james)

🢚 ☆ your friend dares you to give cookies to the hottest firefighter 🢚 ☆♡ the hottest firefighter treats you to coffee 🢚 ☆♡ you save the animals during a barnfire 🢚 ☆ james comes by to make sure you're okay 🢚 ☆♡ you meet james at the firestation's open house 🢚 ☆ james rescues a cat from a tree 🢚 ☆ james hands out halloween candy with you 🢚 ☆ you're unsure about where you stand with james 🢚 ☆ you and james celebrate christmas together 🢚 ☆ you visit the fire station on christmas day 🢚 ☆ james is your new years kiss

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theodorenmyth · 2 months ago

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Valentine Hunt

Pairings ; Theodore Nott x M!Reader

Summary ; Theodore Nott leaves you a trail of heartfelt clues across Hogwarts, each revealing how much he knows and cares for you. With help from his friends, he builds up to a final confession at the Astronomy Tower, where you answer—not with words, but with a kiss.

A/N ; Happy Valentine's day everyone

Warnings ; none

Wordcount ; 1.8k+

Hogwarts, February 14th — Morning

Valentine’s Day at Hogwarts was, in a word, chaotic.

Every year, without fail, the castle was transformed into a spectacle of romance—whether the students wanted it or not.

This year, however, was especially bad.

Rumor had it that Professor Lockhart had bribed Dumbledore into letting him return for a “special, one-day-only Celebration of Love” event. And, unfortunately, that meant Hogwarts had been utterly butchered in his signature over-the-top style.

The moment you stepped into the Great Hall, you were assaulted by an explosion of pink.

Heart-shaped lanterns floated near the enchanted ceiling, casting a soft, rosy glow over the students below. Enchanted rose petals drifted down like snow, catching in people’s hair and robes. The worst part, however, was the cherubs—dozens of them, fluttering through the hallways, giggling as they swooped down on unsuspecting students, reciting love poems so mortifying they made even the boldest Gryffindors squirm.

You slid into your usual seat at the Slytherin table, rubbing your temples. “This is a nightmare.”

“You’re telling me,” Theodore muttered beside you. “If one of those bloody cherubs comes near me, I’m hexing it.”

Mattheo, sitting across from you, smirked. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me.”

Further down the table, Pansy sighed dramatically, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “Honestly, you lot are so unromantic. Valentine's Day is adorable.”

Blaise raised an eyebrow. “You do realize it looks like a Pepto-Bismol factory exploded in here, right?”

Astoria, nibbling on a piece of toast, giggled. “He has a point.”

“I think it’s sweet,” Lorenzo said. “People actually putting effort into romance for once.”

Draco, ever the cynic, rolled his eyes. “It’s desperation, Berkshire, not effort.” He gestured to the Hufflepuff table, where a poor fifth-year had just been ambushed by three cherubs at once. “Look at that. Tragic.”

You snorted, turning back to Theodore—only to find him deep in thought, idly twirling his quill between his fingers.

Suspicious.

“You alright, Theo?”

He startled slightly, snapping out of his daze. “Yeah. Just thinking.”

You hummed, not entirely convinced.

Unbeknownst to you, Theodore had spent weeks planning what was about to unfold.

Because this year, he wasn’t spending Valentine’s Day sulking over how much he hated it.

This year, he had a goal.

And that goal?

To finally—finally—get you to be his Valentine.

And, of course, his friends knew all about it.

──── ୨୧ ──────── ୨୧ ────

Hogwarts, February 14th — The Master Plan

Later that morning, in a tucked-away corner of the dungeons, a secret council of scheming had gathered.

Theodore paced in front of the group, arms crossed. “Alright. Last-minute review.”

Pansy, perched on a stone bench, smirked. “You mean last-minute panic.”

“Shut up.”

Mattheo leaned back against the wall, arms crossed. “So, eight clues, yeah?”

Theodore nodded. “Each one leads to a new location, with hints about me—nothing too obvious, but enough that he should figure it out by the last one.”

Astoria beamed. “It’s adorable, Theo.”

Blaise, ever the realist, sighed. “He’s also a bit of an idiot. What if he doesn’t get it?”

Lorenzo snickered. “Then we force him to get it.”

Draco, looking as though he’d rather be anywhere else, drawled, “Are we absolutely sure this is necessary? You could just—oh, I don’t know—talk to him?”

“No,” Theo said flatly.

Pansy rolled her eyes. “Merlin, you’re helpless.”

Theodore scowled. “Look, I know he likes me back—at least, I think he does. But he’s oblivious. If I just tell him, he might— I don’t know—think I’m joking or something.”

Mattheo nodded solemnly. “Oblivious is an understatement. You could kiss him and he’d probably go, ‘Wow, Theo, you’re such a good friend.’”

Theodore groaned. “Exactly.”

Astoria clapped her hands together. “Well, that’s why we’re here! Operation get Theo a Valentine is officially in motion.”

Blaise snorted. “That’s a terrible name.”

She stuck her tongue out.

Draco pinched the bridge of his nose. “This is idiotic.”

Lorenzo grinned. “And yet, you’re still here.”

Draco scowled. “Unfortunately.”

Pansy waved him off. “Alright, everyone knows their part, yes?”

The group nodded.

Mattheo grinned. “Then let’s get this poor bastard a boyfriend.”

──── ୨୧ ──────── ୨୧ ────

Hogwarts, February 14th — Clue One

The plan was simple.

Each clue was carefully placed in locations you frequented—places tied to small, personal moments between you and Theo. The first? Your Potions textbook.

Professor Snape had barely begun his lecture when you flipped open your book—only to have a neatly folded note flutter onto your desk.

You blinked. That definitely wasn’t there before.

Suspicious.

Unfolding the parchment, you read:

"I hear love potions smell different to everyone. What does yours smell like?"

You frowned. Amortentia?

You had smelled it before—warm parchment, fresh rain, and something else you could never quite place.

Weird.

You glanced around the room. No one was looking at you—except Theodore, who quickly turned away, pretending to be utterly fascinated by his cauldron.

Very suspicious.

Mattheo, sitting beside you, leaned over. “Something interesting?”

You sighed. “I think someone’s messing with me.”

Lorenzo smirked. “Or maybe someone’s flirting with you.”

You snorted. “Unlikely.”

Blaise hummed. “You’re so dense.”

You rolled your eyes.

But still, you couldn’t help but wonder—who was behind the notes?

And why did it make your heart race just a little?

──── ୨୧ ──────── ୨୧ ────

Hogwarts, February 14th — Clue Two

After Potions, you spent most of the class break trying to figure out who had left you the note.

It had to be someone who knew you—someone who had access to your things without you noticing.

That narrowed it down to a very small group of people.

Mattheo? Possible, but he’d have rubbed it in your face already.

Lorenzo? He was a hopeless romantic, but this seemed too subtle.

Pansy? She would meddle, but she wasn’t exactly poetic.

Astoria? No, not really.

Blaise? He didn’t have the patience.

Draco? Absolutely not.

Which left—

You frowned.

No. Not Theodore.

You quickly shoved the thought away, it couldn’t be him.

You and Theo had been friends for years, and sure, you may have had an embarrassingly huge crush on him, but he didn’t feel the same way. Did he?

Lost in thought, you barely noticed when someone nudged you in the hallway.

Pansy.

“Oi, lover boy.” She smirked, holding out a small, folded parchment. “Looks like you’ve got mail.”

You narrowed your eyes, taking the note. “Where did you—?”

“Oh, I just happened to find it in your Charms seat.” She winked, sauntering off before you could question her further.

Unfolding the note, you read:

"You once told me the stars made you feel small, but I think you shine brighter than any of them."

Your heart stuttered.

What the fuck?

You remembered that conversation.

It had been late one night in the Astronomy Tower, just you and Theo. You’d been staring at the sky, lost in thought, and had offhandedly mentioned how insignificant everything felt under the stars.

And Theo—he’d given you this look. Something warm, something unreadable. Then, he had muttered something under his breath—something you hadn’t quite caught.

Was this what he had said?

You swallowed hard.

Could it really be him?

──── ୨୧ ──────── ୨୧ ────

Hogwarts, February 14th — Clue Three

By the time you reached the library, your mind was spinning.

You needed answers.

Instead, you found another note.

Tucked between the pages of your favorite book—the one you always reread when you needed comfort.

"You always reach for this when you think no one is looking. I notice."

You exhaled sharply.

This was too personal. Too specific.

Whoever was leaving these knew you better than anyone.

And, at this point, there was only one real possibility.

Your stomach twisted.

Was it really Theo..?

──── ୨୧ ──────── ୨୧ ────

Hogwarts, February 14th — Clue Four

You weren’t given much time to dwell.

Because, the moment you stepped into the common room, Astoria ambushed you.

“Oh, there you are!” She beamed, grabbing your arm. “Come with me.”

You barely had time to protest before she dragged you across the room—straight to the fireplace, where a single chocolate frog box was waiting on the mantel.

With a note.

"I know you always steal mine, so I figured I'd get you one of your own for once."

Your lips parted slightly.

You did steal Theo’s chocolate frogs. Constantly.

He always complained about it.

Yet, he never stopped bringing extra.

Your heart pounded.

It had to be him.

──── ୨୧ ──────── ୨୧ ────

Hogwarts, February 14th — Clue Five

Lorenzo caught you in the courtyard.

“Took you long enough,” he teased, holding out yet another note.

You grabbed it, unfolding it quickly.

"I hate mornings, but I don’t mind them as much when you’re there."

Your breath hitched.

You and Theo always sat together at breakfast. Most days, he was half-asleep, grumbling into his tea, but he always let you steal bites of his food without complaint.

You looked up at Lorenzo. “This is Theo, isn’t it?”

He grinned. “Took you long enough.”

Your stomach flipped.

Oh.

Oh fuck.

──── ୨୧ ──────── ୨୧ ────

Hogwarts, February 14th — Clue Six

By now, you were actively searching for the next clue.

And you found it easily.

Sitting on your bed in the dormitory.

Your pillow had been slightly shifted, revealing a note tucked beneath it.

"You’re the last thing on my mind before I sleep, and the first thing when I wake up."

You sat down hard.

Your hands trembled slightly as you held the parchment.

This wasn’t just flirting.

This wasn’t just some silly game.

Theo—he felt something.

Something real.

And he wanted you to know.

──── ୨୧ ──────── ୨୧ ────

Hogwarts, February 14th — Clue Seven

Blaise was waiting for you outside the Great Hall.

He smirked, holding out a final note.

But this one—this one was different.

Not just a short sentence.

A full, proper confession.

You unfolded it carefully, reading:

"I’ve spent years watching you, admiring you, falling for you.

And maybe I should’ve said something sooner, but—

Well, I’m saying it now.

Meet me in the Slytherin Common Room at midnight. If you want this—if you want me—I’ll be waiting."

Your breath hitched.

This was it.

This was real.

And you knew exactly what you were going to do.

──── ୨୧ ──────── ୨୧ ────

Hogwarts, February 14th — Clue Eight (Finale)

Midnight.

When you stepped into the common room, it was empty except for Theodore, standing by the fireplace, hands shoved into his robe pockets.

You hesitated.

“So,” you said, voice light, “was this your doing?”

Theodore shifted, looking almost shy. “Maybe.”

You smirked. “You do realize you could’ve just asked, right?”

He scoffed. “Where’s the fun in that?”

You grinned, stepping closer. “So? What now?”

His fingers curled and uncurled at his sides. “Now I ask you— will you be my Valentine?”

The question hung between you, quiet and uncertain.

You didn’t hesitate. “Yeah,” you murmured. “Yeah, Theo. I will.”

His breath hitched. “Really?”

You laughed, reaching up to tug him down by the collar of his robe. “Really.”

And then you kissed him.

Outside the common room, the rest of your friends stood, eavesdropping with victorious grins.

Mattheo smirked. “Told you he’d say yes.”

Pansy pocketed a handful of sickles. “And I told you Theo would need a whole damn scavenger hunt to actually confess.”

Astoria beamed. “Best Valentine’s Day ever.”

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crescenthistory · 7 months ago

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nottyoursbutmine · 8 months ago

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you are in love | t.n

pairing: theodore nott x implied slytherin? best friend reader

the one where Y/N is convinced theo doesn’t have feelings for her, especially near valentine’s day

btw I did mention a bit of young sirius black in there oops time lapse idc- also! why are summaries so hard to write?

you are in love - taylor swift

One look, dark room, meant just for you

You’re sitting in the library with Theo, Pansy, and Draco studying for your upcoming Potions exam. Theo only invited you but Pansy overheard and then invited her boyfriend.

You’re sitting next to Theo, still wearing your short skirt uniform. His left hand is on your thigh, his pinky barely going underneath your skirt as he slightly moves his hand back and forth. You don’t even notice it because it’s become so routine. Especially with the weather, winter is approaching and you made the mistake of forgetting your coat. Theos’ hand was warming you up in the cold library.

You feel someone kick you and you look up to see the culprit, Pansy. She nods her eyebrows and points her eyes to where Theos’ hand is. You check the corner of your eye to make sure Theo isn’t looking. Once you determine he isn’t, you simply give Pansy a shrug. She scoffs and lifts her head to speak to the group, “Don’t you guys think it’s getting late?” She’s smiling but you can see what she’s doing. She wants to question the heck out of you as soon as possible, yet again.

Theo turns to you, waiting for your answer, as if his answer will be anything you decide. You have to admit, you are tired. “Yea, let’s head back.” Immediately Theo begins packing both of your things. You barely had time to process what he was doing before he was finished.

He grabs his and your bags when he says, “Let’s go.” You both stood up at the same time but he grabs you by the waist to stop you from walking away. “You can’t go out like that. It’s about to start raining and you’re wearing a skirt.” He grabs his coat from where he had placed it neatly behind him. As he’s wrapping his coat around you, he takes a few steps closer to you, enough to where you can feel his breath. He begins buttoning the coat and your eyes turn to look at his hands. You can tell he’s looking at your eyes but you’re afraid to look up.

“Geez get a room guys! Hurry up or we’re gonna leave you behind.” Dracos’ voice makes you take a step back and grab your bag off his shoulder. You speed walk towards Pansy and Theo hears something of an apology. He was left with his heart beating out of his chest all because the girl of his dreams was right in front of him and his Draco ruined it.

Theo is lying on you with his arms wrapped around your torso, his head below your neck. You’re playing with his hair as you listen to Blaise and Mattheo debate over you don’t know what.

You unintentionally make eye contact with Pansy. She raises her eyebrows and gives you a smirk. She’s the only one who knows about your feelings and constantly finds chances to subtly tease you. She always says he likes you too. However, you don’t see it. Theo and you are just friends, he will never have feelings for you.

You see that she’s in the exact same position as you are. Except nobody questions her because she and Draco are in a relationship. Your hand freezes on Theos’ hair and he looks up at you, “Are you okay?” His eyes piercing into yours.

You give him your most convincing smile, “Yea, I’m just tired.” You look away so he can’t see you’re lying to him.

He hugs you tighter for a second then says, “Okay let’s go to bed then.” He pulls away, getting off of you in the most gentlemanly manner. Once he’s off the couch he uses his left hand to hold yours and wraps his right hand around your waist as if you needed that extra support. “Guys we’re gonna go upstairs.” Theo announces their departure to the group.

Blaise gasps over-dramatically, “We’re going upstairs? Thank Merlin I’m tired!” He starts to fan himself, provoking Theo.

Theo narrows his eyes at the boy and shoves Blaise back down into his seat as the pair walk by hand in hand. “Not everyone ‘we’, ‘we’ as in Y/N and I. Goodnight.” He says without looking back, pulling you away from them.

Goodnight. He said goodnight. Implying you’ll be sleeping together, right? You’re pretty sure your face is a complete tomato. You turn around with a big smile, “Goodnight everybody, have a safe sleep!” Your voice echoes as you walk up the steps to Theos’ individual dorm.

What you didn’t get to hear is the conversation that continued in the common room.

“Safe? Who says have a safe sleep?”

“Not important Blaise.” Pansy rolls her eyes, “Did you guys see them? They are so annoying with the ‘They don’t like me back’ back and forth. We need to do something.”

They spend quite a bit of time coming up with a plan that would get one of you to confess your feelings to the other. They have too many to choose from, possibly too many that go too far. That would be Draco’s and Mattheo’s fault.

Upstairs in Theos’ dorm is a different story. He had lent you some of his shorts that he grew out of and a loose shirt, that was way oversized on you. You were lying in his bed waiting for him to exit the restroom. You two were just going to sleep, you knew that, but you couldn’t help all the scenarios that crossed through your mind.

You unconsciously played with the necklace Theo had gifted you for absolutely no reason at all. It was his initial with a note card reading, ‘Not because I own you, but because I know you.’ And you haven’t taken it off since.

You slightly open your eyes and you can tell it must be the middle of the night. You’re laying on Theos’ chest and look up to see him staring at you with a strange look on his face. He pauses, then says, “You're my best friend.” and you knew what it was, he is in love. At least you hope?

Valentine’s Day was coming up and so was the number of boys that were asking you to Hogsmeade. You were surprised that anybody at all was asking you out. Typically you just go with your friends to get a ButterBeer and walk around. For the past few years you’ve hoped Theo would ask you but he never has.

Due to the amount of second and third years asking you out, you assumed it was a prank. But then, Sirius Black asked you out and you found yourself saying yes to him with no hesitation. One conversation with him and your question of how does he get so many girls, is gone.

You’re doing homework in your dorm wearing your comfortable afterschool outfit. Someone knocks on your door, you get up from your bed and see that it’s Theo holding a small black present bag beautifully designed. Your mouth turns into that huge smile it does when you see him as you open the door. Immediately you wrap your arms around him to hug him, “Hi! Did we have plans?”

You let go once you realize he wasn’t hugging you back. In fact, he looked pissed. “Sirius Black? Do you know how many girls he’s been with? How many girls he’s made cry?” Okay so he found out.

You throw your head back in nervous laughter, “Theo, do you know how many girls you’ve been with?” You walk back into your room, Theo following you and closing the door behind him.

“Him and I are not the same person.” His eyes are piercing into yours. He’s two steps away from you and it feels like his skin is on yours. “I was going to ask you to Hogsmeade. I was going to ask you- you just needed to give me time. This is for you, for the day I was going to ask you.”

He’s holding out the small black present bag to you. It has a neatly set bow on the top, confirming that Pansy helped him with this gift. You open the bag and take out something inside, you see you two are dancing in a snow globe round’ and round’. Theo charmed the snowglobe so your figures would not only dance but play in the snow together, sit under a tree, swing on the swing set.

You gasp, it’s the most beautiful gift you’ve ever received. “Thank you thank you thank you!” You put the snowglobe down on your nightstand and give him the biggest hug, squeezing him as hard as you can. “I love it! I also got you a present…sort of.” You open your nightstand drawer and picking up the wrapped gift and handing it to Theo.

He chuckles, “Isn’t this just meant to be.” He whispers the last part mostly to himself but you softly smile having heard it. He rips the wrapping and sees it’s a gold frame with a photo of the two of you, he’s behind you with his chin on your head and his arms wrapped around your waist. Your hands are placed above his, securing they don’t leave. You both have a goofy smiles on your face.

“It’s for your nightstand, I don’t know I just thought it’d be cut-”

He interrupts you, “I love it. I absolutely love it.” He drags out his last word and now the silence is so loud. He has put down the gift and started staring at your necklace, the one he gave you for no reason at all.

The light reflects the chain on your neck. He sighs, taking a final step towards you, almost closing the space. He says, "Look up," and your shoulders brush. No proof, one touch. But you felt enough. He gently touches the necklace then smiles almost to himself. He meets your eyes, “I like you so so much Y/N. I have for years now and I can’t keep trying to forget you. I was going to ask you I promise. You just had to give me a little more time. I’ve spent my whole life trying to put this into words. It’s love, true love.”

He grabs your face and quickly presses his lips against yours, you waste no time kissing him back. This is finally happening, you never thought this would happen. You never thought you would be in this situation.

You’re the first to pull away and your foreheads are leaning on each other while you’re both breathing heavily. You give him a quick peck on the lips then a teasing smile when he pouts as you pull away. “I like you so so much too Theo.” He looks up in shock, quickly sitting on your bed and pulling you to straddle his waist.

He puts his hands dangerously low and attempts to pull you closer to him, you can tell it works when you see him take a deep breath and hard gulp. His eyes roam your body as he smirks, your face now in his hands, he says, “So you’re saying it’s love? True love?”

You throw your head back in laughter, “Yes, yes I’m saying it’s love. It’s true lov-.” With your final answer Theo interrupts you by feverishly placing his lips on yours. You don’t mind the interruption at all though.

okay I’m feeling a bit 7/10? I finally did 1989! hopefully next will be ttpd 🤞🏼

requests are open 🫶🏼

766 notes · View notes

mrsriddles-blog · 1 year ago

Text

His Obsession | T.R

Pairing: Slytherin Fem Reader X Tom Riddle

WC: 8.4k

Warnings/Notes: Mild language, smut, stalking, breeding kink, obsessed Tom, CNC?, pregnancy, etc.

Summary: You happen to have a so-not-secretive stalker who’s taken on an obsession with you…

You are an obsession (you are an obsession)

I cannot sleep (I cannot sleep)

I am a possession (I am your possession)

Unopened at your feet

There's no balance (there is no balance)

No equality (no equality)

Be still, I will not accept defeat (be still, I will not accept defeat)

He stood in the corner of the dorm, one that wasn't his own, but yours. He snuck in after he was sure you had fallen asleep. This was the first time he had gone as far as to sneaking in your dorm—at least while you were in it.

You had kicked most of the blankets off so that they laid at the end of your bed. There was a thin sheet that covered one of your legs, but the other laid on top of the sheet. The moonlight lit the room perfectly so that he could see you.

You wore a white tank top with black lace underwear. His eyes were still on your face, peaceful as you slept. Your eyelashes were against your cheeks, your plump lips parted as your breathed softly, unaware of the watching eyes on you.

His eyes trailed down the column of your throat, a place he has imagined his lips and hands many times. It was slender...and untouched. He wanted to touch it...mark it and make it pretty. He wanted everyone to see that you were claimed, that you were his.

His eyes fall lower, onto your chest. Your nipples had pebbled against the thin cotton and he took in a stuttered breath. Your breasts were spilling out the top as well, the tank top a few sizes too small, but clearly this was a comfort top of yours.

He noticed the tank top had ridden up, revealing the soft skin of your belly. He takes in a deep breath as he imagined it swollen with his child. He notes the soft curves that lead to the dip to your wide hips. He burns it into his memory.

You stir a bit, but you simply roll over. His eyes fall on your ass, big and round and perfectly accentuated by the black lace. His eyes roam over your thick thighs, noting the soft bare skin. You stir again, forcing yourself to keep your eyes closed as you feign sleep.

Someone was here.

You could feel it. You weren't necessarily scared, maybe slightly alarmed, but you had a feeling you knew exactly whom it was.

You were well aware of your stalker around the school. Tom Riddle thought he was subtle and secretive of the way he watched and followed you. But, you caught on. He's was quite obvious after all. But, instead of confronting him about his staring and following...you let it continue. You loved it.

You loved to egg him on. You moan softly as you slowly sit up, rubbing your eyes. Tom had grown tense where he stood, hoping to god you didn't look to much into the shadows.

"Bloody hell, it's so hot." You mutter to yourself.

It was actually quite nice in the room, but you decided you wanted to tease him. Maybe he'd come out of the shadows tonight and play.

You pull the tank top off, tossing it on the floor before lying back. You turn on your side, closing your eyes as you felt his eyes burn into you.

He stared at your breasts, the pebbled nipples that seemingly called out to him. He needed to leave before he lost control. But, he knew he needed to wait until you fell asleep.

I will have you, yes, I will have you

I will find a way, and I will have you

Like a butterfly, a wild butterfly

I will collect you and capture you

Just as he thought you had fallen asleep, you moan in annoyance again. He stands up straighter from where he had leaned against the wall. You sit up, propping yourself against the headboard.

You could feel the change in the air. You could feel his nerves. You knew exactly what he was thinking. You knew he was waiting until you fell asleep to leave, but you weren't ready for him to leave. You wanted him to play with you.

You trail a hand down the valley of your breasts, across your stomach before slowly sliding your hand down your panties. You moan softly, rubbing the sensitive ball of nerves.

He had grown even harder as he watched you play with yourself and he clenched his jaw, clenching his fists in his pockets as he fought the urge to go to you—to claim you.

You take your panties off, now frustrated they were in the way. You toss them on the floor, in the direction of where he stood. He looks down to where they have landed, right in front of him. He leans down slowly as he keeps his eyes on you as he grabs them. He stands, feeling the wetness on them.

Your breaths became faster as you got closer to reaching your high. You curl your fingers, hitting a spot you were unaware of—one that sent your eyes rolling back as you moaned out loud as you came.

You fell back against your bed, unconscious from the pleasure. You had always been quite sensitive to pleasure, only touching yourself twice before tonight. You were a virgin and didn't even know what pleasure could really be.

Tom was awed with how you came apart. Now, he wished he was above you so that he could be fucking you, making you feel pleasure, but so he could see you unravel.

You were beautiful.

He steps closer to the bed, knowing how risky it was, yet he felt like he couldn't leave without doing this. He cups your cheek, gently tracing your bottom lip. You moan softly, your lips parting. He gently sticks his thumb in your mouth, your lips wrapping around it as you sucked on it slowly before your mouth barely opened.

He pulled his thumb back, a trail of salvia left in its wake. He groans softly as he sucks the thumb you just had. He traces a hand down the column of your neck, down the valley of your breasts, over your belly before reaching where your hand laid limp between your legs. Two of your fingers glistened with your release and he gently grabbed your wrist, taking your two fingers in his mouth.

His eyes flutter closed, tasting your sweet release blossom over his taste buds. A taste he knew he was forever going to be addicted to. He lets your fingers free from his mouth, before disappearing to your attached bathroom. He grabs a rag, wetting it before going to carefully and gently clean you up.

He went back to the bathroom, putting it in the bin. He got to the doorway as he hears your soft moan. He sees you slowly sitting up. You found yourself wanting to touch yourself again, now wanting his touch.

He watches your fingers delve back between your wet folds. He bites his lip, watching you from a different angle, one where he saw your glistening folds from the pale moonlight.

"Oh god." You moan, your eyes squeezing shut.

He smirks, loving how sensitive you were. He couldn't wait until he got to experience your sensitivity with you. He could already imagine you getting all sensitive and worked up over it.

"T-Tom." You moan, not meaning to, but now you imagined it was him touching you.

His lips part in surprise as he watches you. It wasn't long before you were falling apart, realizing you moaned his name. You weren't embarrassed long as you passed out once again. He grabbed the rag, cleaning you once more and sucking on your fingers to experience your heavenly taste.

You are an obsession, you're my obsession

Who do you want me to be to make you sleep with me?

You are an obsession, you're my obsession

Who do you want me to be to make you sleep with me?

You awake to your alarm this time, naked and a bit sore down there from your activities late last night. You smile slightly, knowing he cleaned you up both times. You stand and get dressed in your white button up blouse, grimacing slightly.

Your family wasn't poor, but they also weren't rich. You were lucky to get your books for the year. Buying new clothes was a speciality in your household. So, the blouse was a bit small and couldn't be buttoned all the way. This one was the blouse you tried your best not to wear because it was buttoned right at your breasts. So, anyone could see your breasts that were beautifully accentuated by your lace bra. Thankfully, they couldn't see the bra.

Your blouse hasn't gotten that small just yet. You pull on your "school girl" skirt, another thing you didn't like to wear often as you rather wear you black ones that fit just right. Your "school girl" skirt was short and you were lucky if you didn't flash anyone if you bent over too much.

It was a green plaid style though, suiting your house colors which you liked. You pull on your white knee socks and your black Mary-Janes. You brushed your hair before you decided to pick up your clothes from last night that you had thrown when you got a little bold.

You found the tank-top, but not the panties. You knew you threw them right in his direction and you realized that he must've taken them. You smile slightly before grabbing your messenger bag. You walk out of your dorm, heading into the Common Room.

Tom sat with his friends where they normally sat. You fought not to make eye contact with him or to stare at him. You could feel his eyes on you though.

His eyes were on the blouse that he knew was a few sizes to small. He clenched his jaw, not happy that other boys would see his girl like this all day. Not to mention the skirt you wore.

"Good morning, Mary-Ellen. Are you ready to head to breakfast?" You ask, a polite smile on your face.

Your friends were already at breakfast, but Mary-Ellen was a first-year that you had taken under your wing. She was more advanced than most in her year, and she was a year younger than everyone, but everyone bullied her. Until you stepped in and now you protected her.

"I'm not really hungry today." She mumbles sadly, laying her head down on her arms that were folded on the table.

You frown, taking a seat across from her. You quietly cursed her brother, Avery—one of Tom's friends—who acted as if he had no association with her.

"What's going on, Mary-Ellen?" You question.

"I don't wanna talk about it." She grumbles.

"Mary-Ellen, we agreed that 'wanna' isn't a very polite word. We also agreed that we don't keep secrets from each other. Now, tell me what is bothering you. I'm sure we can fix it." You say, smiling softly at her.

"Avery, are you ever going to treat that little sister of yours, right? She truly thinks you hate her." Lestrange mumbles, watching the interaction between you and Mary-Ellen.

"No one would judge either. Your smart. No wonder she's smart." Abraxas says.

Avery looks at Tom who was already looking at him. He raises his eyebrows before rolling his eyes.

"Avery, she's your sister. Treat her like one rather than icing her out because you're embarrassed she has more brains than you." Tom says.

"There's this boy who keeps picking on me." Mary-Ellen murmurs.

"A boy? Who is this boy?" You ask.

"Someone." She mumbles.

"Mary-Ellen." You warn sharply.

"It's Samuel." She mumbles.

"And what is Samuel doing?" You question.

"It started with him throwing pebbles at me, then taking my school stuff and holding it away from me...but now he keeps trying to lift my skirt up randomly. He also keeps telling everyone we are dating and we had snogged in a broom closet." She exclaims upset, tears welling in her eyes.

Avery's jaw clenched, his eyes going to the doorway where Samuel so happened to enter. You happened to notice as well, Tom putting a hand out to stop Avery.

"Samuel! Come here, please." You call.

"Yes, Miss. Y/l/n?" He questions.

"I want to know why you are picking on, Mary-Ellen." You say expectantly.

"What are you talking about?" He lies.

"Samuel, please do not lie to my face. I don't like it and it's disrespectful. Be honest, so that we can properly figure this out. I've heard you've thrown pebbles at her, taken her school books to tease her, and then you're trying to lift her skirt. Not to mention you are spreading false rumors around the school. Do you know how rude that is? How do you think all of this has made Mary-Ellen feel? Do you know how much trouble you'll get in if this reaches a Professor or the Headmaster? This isn't okay behavior." You scold.

"I just wanted her attention." He mumbles.

"Samuel, whether you wanted her attention or not, that wasn't an appropriate way of gaining it. You've really upset Mary-Ellen. I hope you haven't done this to other girls either. It isn't polite. It is rude and disrespectful. If you wanted her attention, alls you had to do was approach her and talk to her. You didn't have to tease her, lie about her and harass her. I think you owe someone an apology." You say.

"Mary-Ellen, I'm sorry. I didn't know it was hurting your feelings. I promise I'll stop. I'll tell everyone it was just a rumor. I just really wanted your attention...I think your really pretty and I got really nervous about talking to you." He admits, his cheeks flushing red.

"It's okay, Samuel. Just don't do it again or I might have to hex you." She teases.

You smile, watching the two who ultimately end up going to breakfast together. You look at the time and know you won't have time for breakfast. You stand swiftly, smoothing your skirt out before leaving the Common Room.

Tom dismissed himself from his friends, following you from a distance. He was confused, noticing you were taking a different route. You stop in the middle of a corridor, feeling him following you—watching you.

"I can feel you following me and watching me." You say softly.

He stays in the shadows, watching you with curiosity. You smile, looking down at the ground.

"Maybe next time you'll play too? I could feel you watching me last night when I played with myself...and this morning my favorite pair of panties were gone." You say softly.

He swallows hard, a tent appearing his pants. You offered an invite for him to play with you. Not to mention, you were well aware of his eyes on you last night and you simply played with yourself before his eyes.

You carry on walking, aware he was following you still. You reach your class, slipping inside and hoped he'd make it to his class on time.

He did, per usual. He was waiting for Potions, where he hurriedly rushed to before leaving a note on your desk. He walked out and found Abraxas. He walked in with Abraxas to see you at your desk reading the note.

My Obsession,

Are you daring the devil to play? Naughty girl. You knew I was watching all along. If I had known, I would of feasted upon your heavenly taste between your legs. I might have snuck a taste from your fingers, a new addiction of mine. You can have your black panties back once I've claimed you as mine.

You smile slightly, noting how he knew he was obsessed with you and not to mention he tasted you. Your cheeks flushed red at the thought of his mouth around your fingers. You tuck the letter away before the Professor began to assign groups. He apparently decided to switch it up and do boy-girl and to try and have people work with people they normally don't.

You were partnered with a Gryffindor boy, your work station in front of Tom's and his partner who was a Slytherin girl you've seen sometimes.

"So, Y/n...are you single?" Leon asks.

"Yes...but I'm not actively looking for a relationship. Sorry." You say distractedly.

Tom sat behind you, glaring at Leon. He knew he hadn't claimed you just yet, but he was sure it was quite obvious he liked you. He was satisfied with your answer though which made him feel a tad bit better, but he was still pretty pissed off.

"Can I ask why you aren't looking for a relationship?" He asks.

"I'm not so sure it necessarily pertains to you. Sorry, but I just don't understand why your pushing the matter more than it needs." You say softly, not wanting to come off as rude.

"I'm interested in you. Your a nice girl who's smart and who's apparently not looking for a relationship." He says.

"I've got my eyes set on someone already." You say.

"In that case, I'm sorry. I should have known. It's quite obvious." He says.

"What? What's quite obvious?" You ask, turning your full attention to him.

His eyes fall on your chest, before you cleared your throat and he looked up.

"It's just...Riddle is always around you no matter where at." He says.

"Oh, he and I aren't together." You say, smiling like a lovesick fool as you turn back towards the cauldron.

"I never said you both were together. I just meant it's quite obvious you both like each other." He says.

You stay quiet, surprised he'd say that. You finish up the potion, waiting until Professor Slughorn could come over.

"Brilliant! As always!" He praises, putting a hand on your back as he looks at the potion.

"Thank you, Professor." You murmur, your cheeks flushing red.

"Of course. You go on and take a seat. Leon, you clean all of this up." He says before walking away.

Class was over not before long and you stand, grabbing your bag before you quickly hurry away. You could hear Tom trying to get through the crowd of people, sensing his growing annoyance as he tried to catch up with you.

You smile slightly, ducking down another hallway, before taking a different way to the Great Hall. You find your normal seat, getting sucked into a conversation either Katherine and Mirabelle.

"He's staring again." Katherine whispers with a smirk.

"When isn't he?" You chide, smiling back at her.

"I bet if you got up right now, he'd follow you." Mirabelle said.

"He probably would. I have finished my dinner, so maybe I'll test the theory. Once I get to the door I'll turn back and wave to you two. How's that?" You suggest.

"Go." Katherine urges excitedly.

You stand, smoothing out your skirt before making any other move. You shuffle down the bench so you wouldn't have to climb over it and risk flashing someone. You start to walk to the doors, pausing before turning back to wave to the girls who wave and send you kisses. Tom had stopped all movements and stood there waiting for you to walk out of the Great Hall.

You walk out, ducking into a dark corner. You see him step out, looking up and down the hallway. He curses before walking right past you. You wait until he's gone before going left where you take the long way to the Slytherin Common Room.

You walk in, just as he walked in from the direction of the girls dormitory's. You give him a polite smile, walking past him towards your dorm. The door was partially opened which it wasn't like that earlier today when you left.

I feed you, I drink you by day and night

I need you, I need you by sun and candlelight

You protest, you want to be

Safe, oh, there's no alternative (there's no alternative)

He stood in the corner of your dorm again and he watched as you slept soundly. Tonight, it was rather hot in the dorm, so you were in a tank top that had ridden up just below your breasts and another pair of lace panties, this time dark green.

The blankets had been kicked to the floor long ago and he was running his eyes along you almost continuously, trying to burn your soft curves into his memory. You moan as your eyes flutter open.

You could feel him again.

You slide the tank top off, throwing it in the direction you knew he would be. You shimmy your panties down your legs, tossing those in his direction as well.

They hit him in the chest, and he caught it effortlessly. You smile inwardly as you didn't hear them hit the floor. You gasp as a bundle of silk is thrown onto your bed. You grab the little note and open it.

My Obsession,

Put this around your eyes as a blindfold, then I'll come play with you.

You set the note on your end table, excitement coursing through you as you lightly trace the silk. You were dripping between you legs at this point, but nonetheless, you put the blindfold on.

Tom steps out of the shadows, walking around the room slowly. You let a shaky breath out, your ears straining to hear his soft footsteps. He stops at the end of your bed before he slowly climbs up. You let another shaky breath out as you feel him getting closer and closer to you until your breaths were mixing together.

His hand caresses your cheek, before kissing you softly. You hum softly, kissing him back. You gasp as your hands are pinned above your head against the headboard. He ties them there before his lips were back on yours.

His hand slides from your cheek to your jaw to your throat. He gives it a little squeeze, feeling your body jump from surprise. You relax and he smirks.

He lets his other hand roam, grabbing a handful of your breast, a moan eliciting from you. He pulls his lips from you before his hands trace over the rest of your curves. He moves your thighs further apart before kneeling between your parted thighs. He breathes in deeply, his eyes fluttering closed as your sweet smell of arousal.

"Please." You plead, opening your thighs wider.

He smirks, before his head was burying itself between your thighs, feasting upon your mound. You moan, your legs moving over his shoulders. You tug at your wrists, hoping to free them. You could feel the knot building in your stomach already.

His tongue was sinful and worked meticulously. He dove his long, slender fingers into your dripping cunt repeatedly, the squelching sounds along with your moans and pleads for more filling the room. You tighten around his fingers and he thrusts his fingers a few more times, lifting his head to watch you fall apart. He curls his fingers, watching your mouth fall open, a loud moan coming free as you arch your back, pushing yourself into his hand.

He thrusts his fingers slowly through your orgasm and you fall limp. He smiles, knowing how sensitive you truly are now. He leans down, licking you clean before he sits up and unties the binds on your hands and your eyes.

He moves to the corner of your dorm where he stands as he waits for you to awake. He had a plan, but that went to hell the moment his fingers were buried into your dripping cunt.

Your face appears again, I see the future there

But I see danger, stranger beware

Of circumstances in your naked dreams

Your affection is not what it seems

You were awake, but you hadn't opened your eyes yet. You could feel your hands were free and the blindfold was off, but you found yourself excited yet fearful of opening your eyes. You knew he was there still, but something about his energy right now made you feel off.

"Open your eyes, naughty girl. I know you're awake." He whispers.

You slowly open your eyes, looking at the ceiling before slowly pushing yourself up. You look around, and he steps out which catches your attention.

Tom Riddle, being illuminated by the pale moonlight watched you with a charming smile. You knew it was Tom, but seeing him now kickstarted your nerves.

"Tom." You breathe softly.

"Y/n." He murmurs, stepping forward.

You squeeze your thighs together, feeling your cunt throb as you watch the way he carries himself.

"You've been stalking me." You say softly.

"You've loved it." He points out.

"But I shouldn't have." You admit.

"No, you shouldn't have, but you're a naughty girl. You too have dark desires and wants, don't you?" He asks.

"Y-Yes." You whisper.

"Tell me, what do you want right now?" He asks.

"I...I don't know." You lie, turning your gaze to the end of your bed.

"Don't lie to me or I'll have to punish you. Be honest." He spats.

A part of your brain was screaming at you to run, that this man was dangerous, but another part of you loved the danger. You wanted to be in the presence of this man every waking hour of yours if you could. Your eyes flicker back up to his narrowed ones.

"I want you to claim me." You say softly.

His lips part, surprise etched upon his features only momentarily. His lips were moving to a small smile before he slowly begins to strip off his clothes. You watched intensely, realizing your imaginative brain hardly did any justice for this man.

You are an obsession, you're my obsession

Who do you want me to be to make you sleep with me?

You are an obsession, your my obsession

Who do you want me to be to make you sleep with me?

You lay back, a soft breath leaving you as he crawls over you, his eyes slowly taking you in. Your (hair color) was sprawled around majestically, framing your face. Your (eye color) stared up at him, innocence and desire swirling in their depths. Your plump lips were parted, waiting for his next move.

"You are so beautiful." He murmurs, tracing your jawline with his index finger.

"Thank you." You whisper, your nerves bubbling in the pit of your stomach.

"You are mine, Y/n. I don't think you truly realize the severity of that, but you are mine. It's in your best interest to steer clear of any males or I may have to kill them for fraternizing with what's mine. Especially, after tonight." He says, serious and calm.

Your heart raced, your mind and body trying to tell you how dangerous this man is, but you shoved that all away. You focused on him and your excitement, the adrenaline pumping through you and your desire for him.

"What if I just stick by your side after tonight? Or would you think I'm clingy?" You question.

"Never. I want you by my side for the rest of eternity. In the waking hours, I want you with me, but even in the hours of the night I want you by my side." He says.

"Then I'll be by your side." You breathe.

"My obsession." He whispers, sinking his hard cock into you slowly.

Your lips part, as if to say something or maybe to express your pleasure you felt right now, but no sound came out. Your eyes look up into his to see he too felt this amazing feeling you felt. It was heaven. He rocks his hips back and forth, sinking into your tight cunt. You loop your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you.

My fantasy has turned to madness (has turned to madness)

And all my goodness (and all my goodness)

Has turned to badness (has turned to badness)

My need to possess you had consumed my soul

My life is trembling, I have no control

"Tom." You moan, as he sinks the rest of his cock into you.

"Shhh, I know. I know, darling." He murmurs.

"F-Full." You stutter out.

"Shhh, I know. You're doing so well for me right now, darling." He whispers.

"V-Virgin." You whisper.

"I know, I know...I'll be gentle until you tell me you want more." He murmurs.

He thrusts were slow, although a part of him—a messed up, sick part of him—wanted to be fast and rough with you. He wanted your nails digging into his skin, your tears falling down your cheeks, and your cries and blubbering, music to his ears.

However, he knew it'd be painful and no pleasure for you. He wanted you to experience pain, yes, but he wanted it to be pleasurable for you.

He watches your face that was still adjusting to his size. He knew you were a virgin simply from the way you acted. So innocent. Yet, he also has been obsessed with you for years. So, he knew it may take you a bit to adjust to his size. Not only is this your first time, but he is well aware that he is bigger than the average size.

He ducks his head to your neck, leaving little kisses. He left a quick little bite to see your reaction, only to hear your soft moan as you pushed his head closer to your neck.

He left more bites, his tongue soothing over the sting before he left a soft kiss there. He sucked on a spot on the nape of your neck, his teeth nipping at it as he let it go. He left more marks, loving your soft neck covered with his claim.

"Tom, I need more." You breathe.

He leans back, watching your face before pulling his hips back and slamming forward. Your back arches off the bed, a cry of pleasure leaving your lips as your eyes roll back. He places a hand on the headboard in front of him, the other resting beside your head as he thrusted fast and hard into you.

The sound of his skin slapping against yours echoed off the walls, the bed scraping against the floor, your cries and mewls for more were all music to his ears. You tighten around him and he knew you were close.

"T-Tom, if I pass out...keep going. I can still feel it and it's even more heightened." You say, somehow managing to babble it out.

"Of course, darling. It's because you aren't necessarily passed out. You're not necessarily awake, but you're also not asleep. Your body is just overwhelmed from the pleasure." He murmurs.

Your open your mouth to respond as the coil in your stomach comes undone. You cry out, you back arching off the bed against as your nails drag down his back, your eyes squeezing shut in pleasure. He clenched his jaw as you squeeze around him, but he keeps thrusting into you.

You were limp, but his lips part from surprise as little soft moans left your lips. He could feel his own high catching up with him, but he prayed you were awake to see him come undone.

You were slowly coming to, a lot faster than normal, and your eyes flutter open. You could feel your body feeling the pleasure ten times more than it had before you orgasmed. You had no words. You could only moan and cry out for more as you held him closer.

Your eyes were watching how he moved above you. His body was coated in a sheen of sweat just as yours. Everytime he slammed back inside you, the muscles in his arms, abs and chest would clench. His hair was damp, dangling in his dark blue eyes that were watching you. He looked like he could care less from a glance at his face, but in his eyes you could truly see how much this meant to him.

He groans, his face scrunching up as he comes with his last thrust inside of you. Your lips part, no sound passing them as you felt the most amazing feeling ever. He slowly thrusts to ride out his high before pulling out of you. He lays beside you, wrapping an arm around your waist as he kisses your forehead.

He pets your damp hair, thinking about all the things he's wanted with you. Now, he can have them. He glanced at your belly and smiles slightly, imagining it swollen with his heirs.

I will have you, yes, I will have you

I will find a way, and I will have you

Like a butterfly, a wild butterfly

I will collect you and capture you

You had fallen asleep, your hand rested above Tom's heart, your head tucked in the crook of his neck and your legs entangled with his. This...was exactly as he had imagined it.

He found himself dozing off, feeling tired for the first time in a very long time. Tonight would be the best night of sleep he has ever had and he knows it's because he has you. You were the first one awake, but you weren't in any rush to wake Tom up or to move for that matter.

It was Saturday, meaning you both could sleep in late. Even if you both missed breakfast, they'd have lunch or snacks in the Great Hall for anyone.

"You're staring." Tom mumbles, his eyes still closed.

"You're handsome, how could I not?" You ask, a soft smile on your lips.

His lips twitch before they were tilting up. He opens his eyes, looking over you lazily from where you were now sitting up next to him.

"You look stunning in the mornings too." He breathes, almost like he was in shock.

"Oh stop it." You mumble, your cheeks flushed red.

"I mean it, you are beautiful." He murmurs.

"I...I...I'm not quite sure what to say." You admit quietly, looking down at the bed in shyness.

"You don't have to say anything. Come here." He says, opening his arms.

You climb onto his lap that was covered by the thin sheets, letting his arms settle around you. He kisses you softly, cupping your cheek. His tongue glides across your bottom one, silently pleading for your lips to open. To his luck, they did. His tongue slides into your mouth, his movements becoming more urgent as he tugs you closer to him, his teeth clattering with yours.

His hands slide from your hips to your ass, pulling you closer to him. You moan softly, your hands getting lost in his hair.

He pulls away, looking you over slowly, his eyes falling on your stomach. Oh, how he wanted to see you swollen with his child. He moves the sheets, revealing his hard cock. Your pupils dilate, his words washing away as you begin to sink down into his hard cock. You moan, rolling your eyes up to his, the both of you getting lost in the pleasure.

"You both have been around each other most of the time and she still doesn't know of your plans?" Abraxas asks.

Tom sighs, running a hand over his face. He knows Abraxas may have a point as you and him have been together for four months now, but he wasn't convinced whether you'd freak out or not.

Not to mention, the sneaking around over the summer so you both could hang out was ridiculous. Apparently, your parents dislike Tom immensely for no reason. At least to your opinion. Tom is sure they know he's a half-blood which would mean they have similar views to him which means you could have similar views as well.

Abraxas rambled on and Tom stared at the window, his thoughts back on you. You had returned to your home for the weekend as your parents had requested, so he found himself missing you immensely. Two days apart was the longest you both have been apart...since being together.

It was your guys' year seven and were two months into the year now. The cold, chilly weather was approaching at full force and that only meant the holiday season was as well.

"T-Tom, can I speak with you?" You ask quietly.

His head snaps to the left, seeing that you stood in the doorway of the Common Room. His eyes run over you, looking for a sign that you were hurt as he could tell you were upset.

"You're back early. Is everything okay?" He asks, standing and striding towards you.

You take his hand with one of your shaky ones, silently leading him to your dorm. You close the door, leaning your head against it as you think of the best way to approach this. Tom noticed you had more bags in your room and he turns to you confused just as you had turned and leaned your back against the door.

"Darling?" He asks.

"Tom...my parents said I either needed to break up with you if I were to continue living with them. Or...if I were to stay with you...then I would be cut off and kicked out of the house." You say quietly.

"Are you trying to break up with me?" He asks calmly.

"No! Tom, can't you see! I chose you! Because I love you! Yet, I won't have anywhere to go after school. And I need a place to go, Tom. I can't be homeless." You exclaim.

"Darling, we will find a place. You won't be homeless. I would never let that happen. We will figure it out." He says.

"Tom, we need to figure this out fast. I'm pregnant. Roughly a month. We can't raise our child on the streets of London. We need a home." You stress, tears welling in your eyes.

His lips part with surprise as he looks at your stomach. He knew something had been different about you lately. You've had a glow to you that he can't get over.

You are an obsession, you're my obsession

Who do you want me to be to make you sleep with me?

You are an obsession, you're my obsession

Who do you want me to be to make you sleep with me?

Tom eyed you from where he sat at a table in the library. You had gotten up to find another book, but his eyes were on your swollen stomach. He was more than obsessed with you pregnant. He told you and himself that you were going to be pregnant again and again.

You felt as you were ugly pregnant, but with the way Tom was constantly eyeing you and ravishing you any moment of the day, you knew you must've looked pretty in his eyes. When you first started to show, he was dragging you to your dorm, empty closets or empty classrooms to ravish you at least five or six times a day.

It's definitely been a challenge for you to keep up with Tom, but you adored him. Now, you were roughly seven months and only had roughly two weeks until graduation. Tom had been a bit more spacey recently, trying to make sure everything is sorted out once you both graduate. But, that didn't mean he didn't have time to sneak off with you and to ravish you while telling you how beautiful you were.

He cut it down to maybe once or twice a day—if you were up to it of course—as he didn't want to hurt you or the baby.

You could feel his eyes on you, but you continued to read the book you had found. You rest a hand on your belly, grimacing as you feel pain. You have an appointment today, the first since you went before you left your parents as you've been to embarrassed.

The stares and whispering had grown too much for you to bear, so you hid away most of the time if you could. However, you were sure Tom said something and made threats as most of that has come to an end. He was the one who actually fought with you about having an appointment.

"Everything okay, darling?" Tom asks, standing behind you as he rests his hands on your hips.

"I-I don't know if this is normal...I've never felt this before." You whisper, a hand on your belly.

"Everything okay?" The librarian asks, coming over to you two.

"I think something's wrong. This doesn't feel right." You say panicked.

She steps forward, ignoring Tom's narrowed eyes as she places her hand on your belly. Her face softens as she looks at you, a soft smile on your face.

"Oh dear, this isn't bad. This is good, really good. This is your baby kicking. I'm surprised it hasn't started earlier. Tom, you should have a feel." She says, taking her hand away.

Tom's eyebrows furrow before he places his hand on your bump. He jumps slightly before placing his hand back on your belly.

"Does it hurt?" He asks.

"Not really. It hurt a bit at first, but now the baby is kicking in a different area. It doesn't hurt as bad here." You say quietly.

"I'll leave you two to it. If you ever have any questions, don't fret to ask dear. I've got three of my own." She says, smiling softly before leaving you both.

"He's quite strong." Tom murmurs.

"He could be a she." You chide, rolling your eyes up to his.

"It's a boy. I can feel it." He says.

"Okay then." You mumble, rolling your eyes as you look back down at your book.

"You've gotten quite the attitude the past few days and I'm not so sure I'm having it." He says calmly.

"And what would you do about it?" You asks.

"Spank you. Push you to the edge over and over again. Make you want my cock, but I won't give it to you. I'd make you so sorry that you'll be begging at your knees for my forgiveness. So, tell me...are we going to straighten up our little attitude problem, or am I going to have to punish you?" He murmurs into your ear.

You were tense, your panties wet with arousal. You wanted to say something snarky, but with how horny you've been yourself because of the pregnancy hormones...you weren't so sure you were going to risk that.

Not to mention, Tom was true to his word—always. If he wanted to prove a point to you, he'd prove his point and he'd prove it pretty goddamn well. You could be on your knees and it wouldn't be enough. He's sadistic and he likes you like that. Maybe if you threw tears in the mix, he might cave—might as the keyword—but even that wasn't a solid might.

"I'll start behaving." You mumble.

"Good girl." He whispers, leaving a soft kiss on your neck before walking back to the table.

He watches as you move a hand to your belly again, looking down at it with a soft smile. You whisper something to your belly, something he wishes he heard, but instead he watches you with awe.

He knew you'd be an amazing mother. You've tried all you could to learn about your pregnancy, but you've come to learn that all pregnancies aren't the same. Each experience is unique and special. You've found you have to learn what works for you and you've got to find what is the right fit just for you. Tom has admired your growth and strength during your pregnancy.

He knows you don't feel beautiful pregnant, but he thinks otherwise. Everytime he looks at you, he sees a goddess whom he worships. He's already decided he wants to see you pregnant several more times after this.

You wobble over to the table again, his smile widening as you struggle. He stands, helping you sit before pushing your chair in. He's learned to love how dependent you've became. He loves to help you. He likes feeling needed by you. Even if it's simple tasks just because it's hard for you to walk sometimes.

"Tom." You murmur.

"Yes, darling?" He asks, looking you over slowly.

"I think I'm going to miss it...you know...being pregnant and all. I've really grown to like the baby bump. It's an intimate feeling knowing that there's a baby growing in here and I'm helping it grow by eating and whatnot. I think I'm going to be really sad to see the bump go." You admit.

"Darling, don't be sad. I plan to get you pregnant several more times. I love how beautiful you look pregnant. I thought you were the most beautiful woman I laid eyes on before, but when I saw you pregnant...it was like I was staring at a goddess." He says.

"What if you don't like me after I'm pregnant though? My body is going to change, a lot." You sigh, looking down.

"Y/n...darling, look at me. You are going to be beautiful, so beautiful. I wish you could see what I was seeing everyday. Sure, your body may be different. But, you spent months growing a life in there. How magical is that? I think it's quite extraordinary what you're doing. I know most women can do this, but you're mine and I think everything you do is extraordinary. But, I'll always think you're beautiful and I hope one day I can make you see how beautiful you are." He says.

"Tom, I wish you knew how much I love you." You say, your eyes stinging with tears of love.

You knew he wasn't the most emotional person. He's told you before, he never expected that he'd gain feelings for someone. He truly thought he was incapable of feeling—until you. At first, he simply thought it was an infatuation that turned to an obsession that later turned into his burning love for you. He doesn't say it often, but when he does tell you that he loves you, you take it and hold onto that moment.

"You tell me every day, darling. So, I think I have an idea." He murmurs, offering you a sly smile before looking back down at his book.

You are an obsession, you're my obsession

Who do you want me to be to make you sleep with me?

You are an obsession, you're my obsession

Who do you want me to be to make you sleep with me?

You are an obsession

"Tom...aren't they perfect?" You murmur, looking down at the twin boys you had hours earlier.

Tom was staring at you, the way you looked at your sons with so much love and care already. His eyes fall to your lips which were stretched into a soft smile as you looked down at your boys. He watches you gently stroke one's cheek before looking back at your face.

"Yes. Perfect." He murmurs.

"Tom! I'm talking about our sons, not me." You scold, your cheeks flushing red with embarrassment.

"I know! They are perfect and so are you. Mattheo definitely favors your more. I'm kind of jealous he's going to be so fetching as he grows older." He says.

"Oh shush, you. Tom favors you and I think both of our boys will be quite fetching once they grow older. It's definitely in their eyes." You say.

"God, I want you pregnant again." Tom murmurs.

"Tom! Let's wait until we at least get these two out of diapers! We are going to have our hands full." You exclaim, laughing slightly.

Tom takes Mattheo so you can feed the fussy Tom who hadn't wanted to take a bottle earlier.

"Please get out of diapers soon so that I can put another sibling in your mommy." Tom whisper.

"Tom Marvolo Riddle! He is a baby! Shush! You can't talk to him like that." You scold.

"Like he'll remember that. If he does, we have bigger problems on our hands." He says.

"Tom, shush. I love you, but shush." You say, laughing softly.

He smiles slightly, enjoying that sound from you. He watches as you look back down at Tom with a soft smile. Mattheo starts to squirm and he looks down at the boy. He smiles slightly, lifting a hand to swipe some of the hair out of his eyes.

Mattheo lifts a hand, his tiny hand wrapping around Toms pinky. Mattheo's brown eyes look up into Tom's blue ones. A big gummy smile appears on his face before he sneezes. Tom huffs out a quiet laugh, looking back down at the boy who snuggled closer to him. He leans down slightly, leaving a soft kiss on his head.

"I love you, Mattheo." He murmurs.

He looks up to see you staring at him with a big smile. You could tell he was embarrassed by showing his love for his son publicly, but you stick your hand out to him. He takes it, sitting on the edge of your bed.

"I love you." You murmur.

"I love you." He says, looking down at you with intense eyes.

He looks over at the fussy baby in your arms. He leans down, place a soft kiss on Tom's head as the baby lifted a hand and rested it on Tom's cheek, looking into his blue intense eyes with his identical ones.

"I love you, Tom." He murmurs.

He sits back, watching as he snuggled closer to you, seeming content now. He looks back at you, leaning down and leaving a soft kiss on your lips.

"I love you more than words, darling. I can't even begin to express how much I love you, nor how much I care. I know I struggle to show you those acts on a day to day basis, but I want you to know you truly mean the world to me." He murmurs.

"I know, love. I think I say it enough for the both of us. I appreciate all that you've done for us. I love you so much and I can't wait for our eternity together." You say softly

You are an obsession, you're my obsession

2K notes · View notes

emeritusemeritus · 5 months ago

Note

hi hun, i have a story idea for you, reader and fred weasley if that's alright. reader is pregnant and is due to have her baby on new year's eve but she goes into early labour alone after an argument with fred and gives birth on christmas eve just as fred arrives to make up with her⁷

Hi Anon! Wow when I tell you this has consumed me for days, it’s taken so long to write but I just couldn’t stop! Side note, the name of Fred and Reader’s child is a name I’ve loved since I was a kid and finally got to use it in a fic where it fit perfectly. Hope you enjoy! 🖤

Warnings: pregnancy and childbirth. Graphic descriptions of pain and labour but not of actual birth. Fast labour, precipitous labour. Reader has the pregnancy emotions. arguments and shouting, minor swearing. Reader hits Fred in the arm. Molly Weasley being the OG midwife. I may have some unresolved birth trauma of my own apparently. Happy ending I promise. Not beta read or spell checked.

Word count: 5.5k

Hark now hear the angels sing [Fred Weasley]

"And... that is the last one, we are officially ready for Christmas!"

You beam as you turn towards Fred, having tied the last bow on the last gift you had to wrap. You look at the pile of gifts and smile, partially because it meant that you no longer had to wrap a single other thing but mostly because it was a stack of gifts for your loved ones. You'd be going to the Burrow tomorrow for Christmas Eve to spend a big family Christmas back at the Weasley home and had made sure that not a single person would be missed in the gift exchange.

It was December 23rd and you couldn't be more excited for the holidays. It had snowed overnight making everything seem so much more magical and it would be the last Christmas as a couple before the little one arrived.

With one final proud look towards your pile, you gather the scissors and tape into the little bag to store them and tried to stand up from your place on the floor, realising quickly that it probably wasn't the best idea to wrap the gifts on the floor at 39 weeks pregnant. You wince at the sharp pain that runs down the length of your back at any form of movement and momentarily swallow your pride as you call out your husband.

"Little help?" You asked Fred who was sat on the sofa in your little home, tinkering with a string of lights that just didn't seem to want to work. He looks up and starts chuckling at your pathetic attempts at getting up and stretches his hand out for you to take. He lifts you with ease, something you're very impressed by factoring in your current size and giggle when he places a delicate kiss onto your nose. His hand wraps around your waist, his palm pressed against the curve of your belly with his thumb stroking the stretched skin through your T-shirt.

"Did we wrap anything for Fred jr?" He asks, smirking at you with those mischief filled eyes that you love so much.

"No. Mainly because there is, and will be, no such person."

"Oh come on sweetheart, don't you want a tiny little me running around?" His eyebrows jump up and down for effect, fingers still lovingly stroking your bump.

"I'm hoping for a George," you deadpan, breaking into a laugh when he suddenly pulls you gently towards him by tickling your side. "Anyway, she's a girl."

"Oh yeah? Mother's intuition?" Fred teases, his eyes gazing over your bump as if he's trying to see something that's not there, like an obvious clue of what gender your baby will be.

"Something like that," you smile, reaching up on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his smiling lips.

Suddenly, you pull away from Fred with a brief push to his chest, showing your panicked face and the tears that are starting to well in your eyes, all glimmer of happiness gone.

"Princ-."

"I didn't get her anything!" You suddenly cry out, cutting Fred off as he notices the rather sudden change in your demeanour, your voice trembling as the feeling of complete grief consumes you. "What if she comes early and we didn't get her anything? She'll think that we don't love her! Or she'll think that Santa forgot her!"

Tears are streaming down your face now, your breaths coming quicker and quicker as guilt and shame fill your mind. What kind of mother doesn't buy her own baby a Christmas gift?

"Between the cot, the pram and the clothes we've bought for them, plus not to mention the entire house we bought after finding out they were on the way, I'd say they've had enough."

The glare that you shoot at Fred is enough to silence him instantly, the venomous look in your eyes rivalling his own mothers as he quickly realised this is not a time to make jokes.

"This little one isn't due until after Christmas," he says with a much gentler tone now, placing his hand back onto your bump. "They don't need a Christmas present, they'll already have everything they need when they pop out." He regrets his choice of words the second your eyes shoot up to his, knowing that 'pop' made it sound like an easy thing to do, which he'd been warned from almost every female member of his family that it was far from easy.

"When our baby's born," he says, trying again. "They'll have me and their beautiful mummy. And a whole family that loves them, what else could they need?"

Surprisingly, his words do offer comfort and a wave of relief washes over you as you feel calmed by the idea that the baby really did have everything they would need.

"Sorry," you say, feeling a fresh wave of shame taking over you at your slight overreaction, but Fred steps in again to give you a tight squeeze.

"Already the best mum," he whispers, rocking you gently as you stand holding each other, the Christmas lights illuminating the room in a magical display. You feel a little wiggle in your tummy and smile to yourself, your hand slipping down to cradle the spot where you could feel your little one stretching and rolling.

Everything was set for your arrival at the Burrow in the morning, the suitcase was packed with a mixture of your clothes and Fred's, everything down to your spare toothbrush. The gifts were wrapped and the cookies you'd baked earlier that mornings had been placed into a cute metal tin with a bow, placed on the table beside the front door so that you wouldn't forget them.

"Want me to load the car now?" Fred asks, poking his head around the bedroom door.

"I can help," you offer, only to be shut down a moment later by your husband.

"You will do not such thing," he says firmly, though his eyes are soft. "You are going to park your gorgeous little bum down onto the nearest, softest surface and rest."

"But."

"Doctor's orders princess," he winks, making you smile and relent, though you were hardly going to turn down the offer of sitting down for a while before bed, knowing you'd have an early start in the morning. Your back was twinging with discomfort, a crampy feeling radiating between your pelvis and your hips that made you curse yourself for the stupid idea of wrapping presents on a hard floor.

You walked downstairs to grab a warm drink and sit on the sofa with the hope of a warm fire and a Christmas film, stopping to peek out of the Christmas light filled window to watch Fred trying to fit all the presents in the boot of the car. Since you were so far into your pregnancy, almost every magical transportation option was now deemed unsafe, leaving you with only a handful of options for reaching the Burrow. Percy had very graciously secured a ministry car for you to borrow over the holidays, a fact that he was insistent upon repeating whenever it was even vaguely mentioned in conversation, including the precarious nature of securing the car during the ministry's busiest season. Regardless of your brother in laws self importance, you were thankful for his gesture and though the drive would be long, you were actually looking forward to it. You'd prepped snacks, both muggle and magical, had ensured to the point of obsession that the radio was fixed upon the muggle Christmas station so that your entire drive down would be filled with only the cheesiest Christmas songs and you'd even prepped some hot chocolate for the drive, placing two matching Christmas travel cups beside the kettle ready to make just before you left.

A loud crash pulled your attention right back to Fred as you watched him scrambling onto his feet, an array of once neatly wrapped packages on the floor around him. He looks around nervously before catching sight of you in the window, eyes widening, before he attempts to pick up the dropped presents.

Instantly you were moving to the door, your mind spiralling at the idea that they might be broken or wet from the snow, or if Fred was hurt in the skirmish.

"Are you okay?" You ask slightly breathlessly as you scramble to the door, trying to place your shoes on as quickly as you could.

"Sweetheart stay inside, it's icy and you're not coming out here until I can clear it," he says holding up a hand, eyes fixed on your bump as if you accentuate his words.

"What happened?" You ask, trying to steal a glance around his body to look for any damage to the presents that he was slowly picking up, stacking them high in his arms as he attempts to talk to you through a vision blocking stack of presents.

"Well I was trying to balance these ones and the bottom one slipped."

"You can't stack that many! No wonder they bloody fell!" You say, anger simmering under the surface as you watch more and more presents dangerously wobbling in his arms, swaying with the wind and from every movement he makes. "Stop stacking them so high."

"I can do it."

"Obviously you can't!" You snap, feeling the anger rising now from his obvious lack of care to the gifts that you had so painstakingly picked out and wrapped. "What if they're all broken?!"

"They're not all broken," he snarks.

"All? You mean there's broken ones?!" You exclaim, hardly able to push down your anger anymore. You and Fred hardly every argued, but when you did it was almost always a big one that lasted no more than five minutes before you were making up, sometimes longer if he was in the mood to sulk. Uncaring about the ice, you step outside and rush over to the back of the car where Fred continues to pick up the last of the presents from the ground, cringing at what follows when he picks up the very last one.

The telltale sound of damaged box fills your ears at a painfully ironic moment, the sound so obviously being something broken, shattered with the pieces rattling about inside. You gasp as you look upon the misshapen box, seeing the distinctive green wrapping paper all torn and wilted from the snow, knowing instantly what was inside, undoubtedly shattered beyond repair.

You're completely heartbroken at the sight before you and more angry with Fred than you ever remember being.

"You stupid git!" You say, hitting his arm as he turns to you with a look of apologetic shame, though you don't even remotely fall for it, too enraged to give a single thought to his feelings. "I told you that you couldn't carry that many! Now look what you've done!" The box falls from his hands again and lands in a heap on the floor, an ominous rattling crying out all the way down until it crashes upon making contact with the snow.

"It's just a present," he mumbles, trying to downplay the situation as he turns back towards the car, away from your body. His words and aversion to the situation only fuel your anger in the moment, seeing visions of his younger self so uncaring for the consequences of his actions even if it both directly and indirectly affected others.

"It's not just a present you git! It was Fleur's only Christmas present! You have no idea how long it took me to find it," you say, tears welling up in your eyes again as the anger turns to sorrow.'you knew how much she adored snow-globes, something from her childhood that she'd told you about in great detail one night at the Burrow. You'd gone searching around muggle antique stores for something within the brief and had been completely overwhelmed by the beauty of the snowglobe you found for her. It was a little over the budget but you didn't care, knowing how much she would love the beautifully ornate pink and gold filigree on the side, the tiny carousel horses inside that spun around with fine gold glitter covering the beautiful scene. It was decadent and beautiful, and now shattered in a box on your front drive, the glittery water leaking out of a large crack in the box and onto the snow.

"Just give her one of Ginny's," he says defensively, the hint of a shrug ghosting his coat-covered shoulders.

"Oh yeah perfect, because I'm sure she'd love a mug that says Mrs Potter to be!"

You march away from him in a foul mood, stomping your way back into the house as you close the door with a resounding slam, the wreath on the door quivering with the force.

It was the evening before Christmas Eve, you didn't have anything else to give her and you certainly couldn't show up empty handed for only one person, especially one that had become a good friend to you and who had admittedly struggled to fit in with the family at first. You felt wretched and suddenly wanted to stay at home, the idea of going to the Burrow now making you feel physically sick.

You winced as the pain in your back suddenly increased, making you grab ahold of the table beside the door for support as you felt it radiate through your back and settle into your pelvis.

"Look, why don't we just drop by somewhere on the way to mums? See if we can get a replacement." Fred says as he steps through the door, inevitably trailing snow throughout the hallway. You straighten up, recovering from the cramps and turn to him in disbelief, fresh annoyance consuming you again.

"It can't be replaced it was antique!"

"Well something similar then," he mumbles. You don't even fight his words, realising that he didn't have any semblance of idea of how hard you'd worked to make everything perfect for Christmas.

"You haven't even apologised," you huff, kicking off your shoes and wandering towards the kitchen, cringing at the pain that still remains in your lower back.

"What for?!" He asks, sounding mystified. "Hardly my fault I slipped, ice is icy funnily enough."

"Oh piss off Fred, you know it wasn't the ice," you spit out, reaching for a mug as you flick the kettle on again.

"I've had enough of this," he says angrily, marching right back out of the hall towards the front door that slams shut behind him. The silence that follows is almost suffocating as you stand looking at the place he stood only moments before.

The tears flowed freely now, though the gut wrenching sobs had stopped eventually. It had been around half an hour since your argument with Fred when you walked over to the door to attempt to reconcile, not wanting the stupid argument to ruin the last night in your home before tomorrows journey. It was getting late and you wanted to go to bed, exhausted both physically and emotionally and knew that stopping off somewhere tomorrow for a replacement gift for Fleur would only make your wake up call earlier. You sucked in a sharp breath when you stood up from the sofa, feeling a sharp pain shoot right up your pelvis and down your leg right to your toes, the cramping immediately resuming. You let out a few steady breaths and grabbed hold of your bump as if to help calm the pain and waddled towards the door.

When you saw that the car was no longer outside, with no sign of Fred anywhere and only tyre marks in the snow as proof, you knew instantly that he had left. Tears began to prickle at your eyes and you closed the door slowly with a weak shove, the tears coming once again. Fred had never left during an argument, had never just upped and decided to flee. You felt miserably guilty for your overreaction, even if it did seem deserved, and wished more than anything that you could just fix it and go to bed.

You went to make another cup of tea, needing the warmth and the comfort from the drink, the fire having long since died and the room feeling uncommonly chilly. A sharp pain suddenly radiated through your lower abdomen, like a crushing pain that tightened around your hips like a belt that was too small and you gasped, clutching hold of the counter as you waited for it to disappear. During your scramble to reach out for something solid to rest upon, the mug had been knocked to the side and you watched as your favourite mug tumbled to the floor, splintering at your feet into little ceramic shards.

The pain was increasing rather than disappearing and you felt the tightness all over your bump now. When it finally began to abate after a few seconds, your legs felt wobbly and you felt shaken, heart pounding and breathing unsteady as you tried to calm yourself. You barely managed to make it over to the sofa when the pain started again, radiating through your body with increasing intensity that felt like a wave slow building until it crashed upon the sand. You gripped the arm of the sofa as the apex of the pain consumed your body again, this time lasting even longer than before.

When the pain peaked, forcing you onto your hands and knees on the floor in front of the sofa, you realised with a sheer sense of panic that you were completely alone. You couldn't use the floo, couldn't apparate and now you also had no car to get you anywhere or to anyone. Your owl was delivering a message to the Burrow and still hadn't returned, clearly having flown to Wheezes instead, leaving you owl-less. You took long steady breaths when you could, relishing in the few moments of relief that came between your pains. It couldn't be labour, it just couldn't, even though logically you knew that it was more than possible as babies came when they were ready, not when you wanted them to.

You sighed when you felt another wave of pain starting in your extremities, rapidly increasing to a crushing pain around you back and in your last parts. The pain made you breathless and you could hardly believe how quickly things had escalated as you knelt on the floor trying to keep yourself calm but failing miserably in the middle of what you absolutely would not believe, but logically knew, was labour. You choked on a sob when you thought of Fred, that he'd left you at your most vulnerable time, that he'd miss the birth of your child and that you'd have to do this all alone. The plans you'd made for your birth were now completed ruined and you would no longer have the support of Molly, who had been overjoyed at being asked to support you. She was more than just your mother-in-law and after birthing seven children, there was no one else you trusted to guide you through labour. But now completely alone and trapped at home, would you survive? Women died in childbirth all the time, especially when birthing alone. What if the baby didn't survive? What if the cord was around their neck and you didn't know?

Almost like a switch had gone off in your mind, you focused on the task at hand, pushing all fear inducting thoughts out of your head and focused instead of what would be needed if you were going to do this alone. Warm towels, water, somewhere comfy for you to labour, somewhere warm and soft for the baby, baby clothes and a multitude of blankets. You looked towards the stairs and took a deep breath, trying your hardest to time yourself so that in the brief moments of reprieve you could climb the stairs to fetch what you'd need.

It took much longer than expected to collect everything you'd need, having to stop multiple times to cling onto the nearest surface and ride out the wave of pain that you could tell was getting worse and closer together. You'd barely made it down the stairs when another wave of pain hit you, making you stumble down the last step. You cried out at the searing pain that shot through you at the inadvertent step you'd taken, a lighting bolt of agony coursing through your pelvis, around your bump and settling deep in your groin. Your breath was shaky as you tried to recover from the pain but it didn't wane this time and instead focused purely in the centre of your pelvis. You notice by chance that it's past midnight now, the jingle of the little Christmas-themed muggle clock taunting you as to the announcement of a new day. Christmas Eve and you were alone, left to give birth entirely alone.

It takes everything you gave no to cry out, focusing instead on taking deep breaths and emitting a low groan as a way of vocalising your pain. You eventually make it back to the sofa, surrounded by all the things you'd need and allow yourself a little sob as you look at the equipment surrounding you, like an ominous scene of foreboding. Whatever motivation and strength you had previously momentarily slipped away and you allowed yourself to cry, both for the unrelenting pain and for your heartbreaking situation.

You let out another cry when a pain much stronger and more direct than before hits you full on, a crushing feeling from the inside that makes you feel lightheaded. You scramble to look down when you suddenly feel something wet beneath you, bringing your hand up to your legs to try and decipher what had caused it. You fight through another pain to pry off your wet bottoms and cast them aside, praying that you don't see any blood between your thighs. It's clear, the liquid that drips down your thighs, small sudden gushes turning to small drops as you battle to get a towel underneath you.

You're on all fours again, trying your hardest to take stabilising breaths when you hear the sound of the front door open.

"Fred!" You cry out in hope and desperation, the wail that falls from your lips an accumulation of the physical and emotional pain. It's the scream that you had wanted so desperately to let out as your body burns internally.

He's beside you in seconds and couldn't have been quicker if he'd apparated between the door and the living room. Your head falls forward as another contraction takes over, the sudden need to push consuming every instinct within you.

"I'm here sweetheart, I'm here it's okay," he coos, his hand instinctively reaching for your lower back as you circle your hips, trying desperately to bring relief.

You look up into his eyes and can see that he looks completely torn, eyes washing over your form as his mind whirls trying to formulate a plan. He looks completely overwhelmed under the surface, as much as he's pretending to be calm, panicked by the sudden chance in circumstances.

"Look sweetheart, I need to fetch mum, I'll be back in five minutes tops, I'll apparate right there and right back, can you handle that?"

He barely gets the words out before you scramble to reach out for him, clutching the bottom of his shirt desperately as you cringe from the movement of your torso.

"No please Freddie, please don't leave me alone again," you beg, already crying from the thought alone as you cling into him, tears streaming down your face. You're terrified of being alone again, desperate for him to stay by your side. You're scared and in pain, unable to think clearly.

"I won't leave," he says with a nod, trying to calm you, his brows knitting together as he tries to think of a backup. It's too late to drive you to St Mungo's and there's no way to side along apparate with you safely, especially now that labour had begun.

He does the only thing he can think of and pulls out his wand to cast his patronus, watching with a dwindling sense of hope that it would reach its destination quickly.

He pockets his wand again and turns his full attention back to you, trying to push some pressure into your back to relieve the pain in anyway he can, gently reminding you to take slow and deep breaths. There's so much that he needs to say to you, to apologise for, but that can wait until later, knowing that his focus had to be on you right now.

"Fred I need to push," you say with staggered breaths, a thin sheet of sweat covering your forehead.

"I know sweetheart, just a couple more minutes okay?" He says, still squatting down beside you. He prays to Merlin and to anyone else that might be listening for this to go well, for his patronus to have worked and failing that, for it to be an easy birth. He wasn't prepared for this, just a prankster turned businessman that had no knowledge of women's bodies beyond putting the baby there... getting it out was a completely different matter.

"That's it sweetheart, you are doing so well, I'm so proud of you," he says, pushing back your hair that had stuck to your sweaty head, reaching for one of the little hand towels towels and enchanting it so that it was wet and cool before rubbing it softly over your forehead. You moan out and he hardly knows if it's because of the cooling sensation or because of the pain, but when you pull his washcloth holding hand back up to your forehead, he's pretty sure he has an idea.

"You are so strong princess, you're doing so well," he coos, trying his hardest to support you in your time of need. Truthfully, he was baffled how your body was doing this. You looked like you were in excruciating pain but yet you still carried on for the sake of the baby, your strength and resilience astounding him.

He jolts when he hears the telltale roar of flames in the fireplace and his heart leaps at the thought, had his patronus worked?

"Where is my, oh my dear!" Molly Weasley steps out of the floo induced flames of their fireplace and directly into the living room, giving herself a good shake as she spots her daughter in law on all fours in obvious labour. She pulls out her wand and casts a spell over herself that cleans off any sign of fireplace soot, then blasts the fireplace so that the regular flames resume to heat the home.

"Oh my dear," she rushes over, moving to kneel beside her daughter in law whose face scrunched up in pain, a silent scream of anguish falling from her lips.

"You should have got me sooner!" She points an accusing finger at her son who looks equal parts guilty and mortified as she strikes your hair out of your face, her eyes flicking between concern and anger between the two of you.

"I... I told him it wouldn't be yet," you stammer, hardly able to form the words. "I need to push!"

"Fred make yourself useful! Just like your father sat idly about, fetch some more towels and pillows from the bed, honestly you men." Molly surges into caring mode and for once Fred does exactly as she says without any backchat or hesitation. Her very presence is reassuring to you and you feel instantly calmed just by having her by your side.

"Well I have to say it, you do make beautiful babies," Molly coos as she looks at the three of you huddled together on the bed. Fred looks tired but peaceful, his arm wrapped protectively around you as your new baby stays latched on to your breast, bundled in soft blankets that her grandma had knitted especially for her. You're exhausted but overwhelmingly happy, and perhaps a little bit shocked by how quickly everything had progressed throughout the day and night.

"Right I'm off, as long as you're all okay? Oh I can't wait to tell your father he'll be overjoyed! I'm only an owl away if you need anything and I mean that, yes?"

"Thank you, for allowing me to experience this. I have a feeling this little one will be my favourite yet," Molly smiles as she leans down to glide her fingers across the little one's cheek lovingly. She looks up to you and smiles warmly, leaning down to give you a kiss on top of your head. "And very well done dear, you did brilliantly."

Fred walks his mother out, knowing that she had never liked apparating and would be using the floo to get home. You can hear their voices as they go downstairs but you can't hear what's being said and you look down at the cooing baby in your arms, watching her closed eyes and quick but steady breaths. She really is perfect, her little button nose, long lashes and tuft of distinctive red hair that was currently hidden beneath her little hat. 10 fingers, 10 toes and a striking resemblance to her dad that after the intense labour you'd just endured felt like a hilarous but tiny smack in the face.

When Fred returns, he's beaming. He pauses, leaning against the doorframe as he looks at the sight before him, his girls.

"How are you feeling sweetheart?" He asks, gently climbing onto the bed beside you.

"Exhausted," you say with a laugh, trying hard not to jiggle the little one too much with your laughter. "But I'm happy."

"Me too. Here, let me take her so you can get some rest."

You want to protest but you're worried your eyes will close at any second even though you're trying your hardest to keep them open, your body just too exhausted. You hand Fred the sleeping baby, passing her over gently like she could shatter at any moment from being so fragile and within moments of your head touching the pillow, you're out like a light.

"Wait till you meet your uncle George, and auntie Ginny, and uncle Percy, and Ron, and Charlie and Bill... there's a lot of them to remember I know, but it's mainly uncle George and Auntie Angelina you have to remember kid. Don't even get me started on the others, aunt Hermione, uncle Harry, auntie Fleur and then there's your granny and grandad."

"Trying to bore her back to sleep with your family tree?" You smile, noticing Fred and your little girl cuddled together in the little armchair in the corner next to her bassinet. He huffs a laugh, turning to you with so much adoration in his eyes that it momentarily leaves you breathless.

"Just getting her up to speed," he smirks, reaching down with his hand to grab her hand gently, "you going to say good morning to your beautiful mummy?" He gently manipulated her hand so that she gives you a little wave and you laugh, sitting up in bed with a slight wince.

"So I guess Fred Jr is off the table now eh?" He says with a wiggle of his eyebrows as he stands up from the chair, bringing your daughter over to you, her face a perfect picture of contentment.

"It was never on the table," you say with a smirk, greedily reaching for your daughter.

"Well you surprised us little one," Fred says to his daughter as she begins to stir. "Thought we'd be naming you something new yearsey, but you're a little Christmas Angel."

As if the concept of time and days had just returned to you, you realise that your daughter was born on Christmas Eve, your own little Christmas miracle.

"Holly?" Fred suggests, your nose scrunching up at the suggestion, not liking how obvious it was.

"What about Evangeline?" You ask, looking down at the sweet face, trying to weight up what name suited her the most. "Nickname Eve or Evie?"

"Evangeline Weasley..." Fred muses, as if trying it out for himself, "I love it." He beams, as if the missing puzzle piece has just slotted in to place.

"Merry Christmas little Evangeline," he coos, watching as she yawns, her eyes opening with a little squint as if by some miracle, answering to her name. Fred kisses you and you're happier than you've felt in a long time, the heartbreak of yesterday long forgotten and forgiven as you celebrate your first Christmas together as a family of 3.

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ahqkas · 11 months ago

Text

♯ WICKED GAME ; theodore nott

PAIRING! theodore nott x slytherin!reader

SYNOPSIS! the world was on fire and no one could save you but him (based off this req.!!)

WORD COUNT! 2k

WARNINGS! nothing really, fluff, reader has trouble controlling her anger, annoying griffindors + lmk !

NOTES! soft theo soft theo

HARRY POTTER MASTERLIST!

THEODORE NOTT HAD ALWAYS ADMIRED YOUR FIERCE SPIRIT, THE WAY YOU STOOD UP FOR YOURSELF AND OTHERS. As a Slytherin, you had a reputation for your sharp mind and quick temper. Losing your temper was something that could be considered common in your case. The initial spark of your heated nature might be something small — a careless feather — but it came hurling at just the right (or wrong) moment.

As the spark caught, the heat rose. Your pulse quickened, a thrumming beat that matched the rising fury in your chest. Every muscle in your body tensed, coiled tight like a spring about to snap. Your hands clenched into fists, nails digging into your palms. Your breath came in shallow, rapid bursts, each one stoking the flames higher.

Your mind, normally a place of rational thought and control, became a battlefield. Rationality and restraint were shoved aside by a bunch of thoughts, each one more inflamed and irrational than the last. Words formed on your tongue, sharp and cutting, begging to be unleashed. The desire to lash out, to make the other person feel a fraction of what you're experiencing, was overwhelming.

And then, the dam broke. Anger spilled out in a flood, uncontainable and consuming. You shouted, your voice raised in a volume that surprised even you.

Most students knew better than to cross you, but occasionally, someone would test your limits. Today was one of those days.

The library was unusually crowded, with students cramming for their upcoming exams. The typically quiet environment was buzzing with hushed conversations and the rustling of pages. You and Theo had managed to secure a quiet corner, away from the main crowd of students who spent their free time with their noses buried in books, hoping to get some much-needed studying done.

You sat with Theo at a wooden table, the light from the nearby window casting a soft glow over your textbooks and notes. Trying to focus on an essay you were writing at the moment, you were barely containing your irritation at the persistent whispering of a group of Gryffindors nearby. They had been whispering and snickering for the past hour, their disruptive presence gnawing at your already frayed nerves. The Potions essay wouldn't write itself and you clearly couldn't pay all of your attention on it with the boys in the same place as you.

One of the Gryffindors, a tall boy with a mop of dirty hair, seemed to be the leader of his little group. He leaned closer to his friends, his voice carrying over despite his attempt to whisper. Someone had trouble learning in kindergarten. "Did you hear about the Slytherin who thought she was actually good at Potions? What a joke. And she proclaimed her supposed knowledge for the whole class to hear. It was embarrassing."

The grip you had on your quill tightened, and you felt the heat of anger rising to your cheeks. Theo, sitting beside you, noticed the change in your demeanor. He knew you well enough to recognize the warning signs: the slight narrowing of your eyes, the tension in your shoulders. It'd come to hell in any second.

"Stay calm," your boyfriend murmured next to you in a low tone, placing a gentle hand on your arm. But his words did little to soothe the simmering anger within you.

The Gryffindor continued with his snickering, his friends laughing at the cruel remarks he made. The final straw came when he leaned back and made a particularly rude comment about Slytherins in general, causing his friends to burst into louder laughter. They were practically asking for it.

You snapped.

Slamming your quill down, you stood up abruptly, the force of your movement knocking over your ink pot and spilling its contents on the table. Your essay was now soaked in a deep blue puddle. "That's enough!" you hissed, your voice echoing through the library. "Get out of here before I make you regret ever stepping foot in this place."

The Gryffindor turned to you with a death wish sparkling in his eyes, a mocking grin spreading across his face. "Oh, look, the Slytherin princess has something to say. What are you going to do about it?"

Before you could respond, Theo stood up and placed himself between you and the Gryffindors, his posture calm but his eyes cold. He placed a firm hand on your shoulder, grounding you as he leaned down to your level to whisper to you.

"Let's not make this worse," he said quietly, his eyes locked on yours. "They're not worth it."

You could see the concern in his eyes, the silent plea for you to stand down. It was a look that Theo had perfected over the years, a look that had saved you from countless confrontations.

"Listen to him, princess," the Gryffindor jeered, clearly enjoying the spectacle. "Maybe your boyfriend can teach you some manners."

The rage within you flared again, and you took a step forward, but Theo's grip tightened, holding you back. His voice was steady, a stark contrast to the storm brewing inside you.

"Walk away," Theo said, his tone firm. "This isn't the time or place."

The muscles in your jaw clenched tightly, a testament to the restraint you were barely managing to hold onto. Oh, those boys were making you so mad. Your fingers twitched, itching to release the pent-up energy that crackled just beneath the surface. Your heart pounded loudly in your chest, each beat echoing the unspoken rage coursing through your veins. It felt like a fire burning hot, threatening to consume you whole if you didn't find a way to let it out.

Theo's hand on your shoulder was a lifeline, his touch both calming and steadying. The warmth of his skin against yours contrasted sharply with the cold anger simmering inside you. His fingers, lightly but firmly gripped your shoulder. He was your anchor, the one thing that could pull you back from the void.

You inhaled deeply, the breath shaky and uneven. The sound of your own breathing was loud in your ears, a rhythmic reminder of the effort it took to calm yourself. You focused on the small details: the way the light filtered through the dusty windows, casting long shadows across the floor; the faint rustle of pages as a student turned a book somewhere in the back; the distant ticking of a clock, each second a tiny victory in your battle against the anger.

Theo's eyes never left yours, their pale blue depths filled with a mixture of worry and reassurance. He knew you better than anyone, knew the struggle you faced in moments like these. His silent plea, combined with his comforting presence, was a balm to your frayed nerves. He was your refuge, the one person who could understand and temper the fire within you.

Slowly, the heat began to fade. The tightness in your chest eased, and the tension in your muscles started to relax. The world around you began to come back into focus, the red haze lifting to reveal the familiar surroundings of the library. The anger, though not entirely gone, was now manageable, a controlled burn rather than a raging inferno.

Theo's gentle squeeze on your shoulder was the final push you needed. His touch, his presence, his unwavering support — they were enough to pull you back from the brink. With one last deep breath, you gave a curt nod, signaling your surrender to his plea. The fire within you had been quelled, at least for now, and you were ready to walk away.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm the tempest within. The Gryffindor's smug face made it difficult, but Theo's presence gave you the strength to pull back.

"Fine," you muttered, your voice low and dangerous. "But this isn't over."

Theo guided you away from the scene, his arm around your shoulders as he led you toward the library exit. The cold stone walls and dim lighting provided a stark contrast to the heated atmosphere you had just left behind.

Just as you were about to leave, Madam Pince appeared, her sharp eyes blazing with anger. "Out! Both of you!" she snapped. "I will not have this kind of behavior in my library. Out, now!"

You opened your mouth to protest, but Theo gave you a gentle nudge, urging you to comply. With a sigh, you followed him out of the library, the door closing behind you with a resounding thud.

Once you were a safe distance away from the commotion, Theo stopped and turned to you, his expression softening into one of genuine concern. The corridor they had led you to was dimly lit, with the flickering torches casting warm, dancing shadows on the ancient stone walls. The distant murmur of the library faded, leaving only the quiet hum of the castle and the steady rhythm of your breaths.

Theo's eyes searched your face for any signs of lingering distress. He reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair away from your forehead, his touch tender and reassuring. The warmth of his hand lingered on your skin, a comforting contrast to the cool air of the castle.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice soft and soothing.

You took a deep breath, the remnants of anger and frustration slowly ebbing away with each exhale. The tightness in your chest began to loosen, replaced by a growing sense of calm. You looked up at Theo, your eyes meeting his, and saw the genuine worry etched in his features. It was a look that made your heart ache with gratitude and affection because despite his own problems, he only really cared about you. Nothing else mattered.

"I'm better now," you admitted, your voice a little shaky but honest. "Thanks to you."

Theo's lips curved into a gentle smile, his hand moving to rest on your chin to lift it up a bit. His touch was light, almost hesitant, as if he was afraid of overwhelming you. But it was exactly what you needed — a quiet, steady presence that grounded you, reminding you that you weren't alone.

"You don't have to thank me," he said softly. "I just want to make sure you're okay. That's all that matters to me."

The sincerity in his voice warmed you from the inside out, chasing away the last remnants of your earlier rage. You could feel the tension in your body melting away, replaced by a sense of safety and comfort. Theo had always had that effect on you, his calm and steady nature balancing your fiery temperament.

"I don't know what I'd do without you," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "You always know how to calm me down, even when I'm ready to explode."

Theo chuckled softly, the sound a soothing melody in the quiet corridor. "That's what boyfriends are for," he replied, his eyes twinkling with a mixture of humor and affection. "Besides, you've got a good heart. You just need someone to remind you of that when things get tough."

You felt a rush of warmth at his words, your heart swelling with gratitude and something deeper, something that made your chest ache in the best possible way. Theo had always seen the best in you, even when you struggled to see it yourself. His unwavering belief in you was a beacon, guiding you through the stormiest of tempers.

"You're too good to me," you murmured, leaning into his touch, drawing strength from his unwavering presence.

For a moment, you stood there in the dimly lit corridor, the world outside fading into insignificance. It was just you and Theo, wrapped in a bubble of quiet understanding and unspoken promises. His hand slipped from your chin to your back, pulling you into a gentle embrace. You rested your head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart, finding solace in its rhythmic assurance. His arms around you were a shield, protecting you from the world and from your own worst impulses.

As you stood there, wrapped in Theo's embrace, you realized just how lucky you were to have him in your life. He was your rock, your anchor, the one person who could calm the storm within you. And in that moment, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you could face them as long as you had Theo by your side.

When the world burned, Theo was the only one who could save you. Strange what love will make people do.

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