Pairing: Mattheo Riddle x Reader
AU: Soulmate AU β whatever you write/draw on your skin appears on your soulmateβs skin
Word Count: ~2,400 words
Warnings: light bullying, swearing, fluff, soft tension, emotional vulnerability
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Not fucking again.
Mattheo Riddle scowled down at his forearm, where a series of tiny flowers were blooming across his pale skinβagain. This time in deep green ink, delicate petals unfurling one by one. A vine curled near his elbow, looping lazily like it had all the time in the world.
He didnβt.
He yanked his sleeve down with a growl, ignoring the flicker of amused looks from Theo and Draco
βWhatβs wrong, Riddle?β Theo drawled across the common room. βYour soulmate into gardening?β
Mattheo ignored him.
The teasing didnβt bother him anymore. Not really. Not after years of itβyears of being the boy with the freak bond, the one whose arms were constantly scribbled with what looked like a toddlerβs art class.
But it had started bothering him lately.
Not because of the drawings.
Because heβd started to look forward to them.
And that scared him more than anything.
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You dragged your quill gently over your skin, tongue poking from the corner of your mouth in concentration.
This time, it was a vine of ivyβthin, curling lines winding down your forearm. Your ink pot wobbled on your desk as you dipped your quill again, blotting off the excess. You blew on the design gently to dry it.
You never meant for your soulmate to see them at first. The drawings were yours, little quiet things you gave yourself when the castle felt too loud.
But theyβd never tried to stop you. Not after the first few weeks.
You remembered the first time something got scorched. Your drawing of a cat had come back to you the next day half-burned and smudged, the outline blackened as if ink had caught fire.
You hadnβt cried.
But you hadnβt drawn anything for two whole weeks.
Now, though, they never burned your drawings. Sometimes, youβd even see something small appear next to them. A dot. A dash. A single letter, like they wanted to say something but didnβt quite know how.
You didnβt either.
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βOy, show us your art, lover boy.β
Mattheo shoved the hand off his arm with a glare. Theo, Lorenzo and Draco were being especially annoying that morning, eyeing the ivy design now visible under his rolled-up sleeves.
βBet theyβre in Hufflepuff,β Draco snickered.
βNo. Gotta be a Ravenclaw. All those books and flowers.β
Mattheo didnβt answer. He just sat there, jaw tight, shoulders tense.
He didnβt know who you were. Only that your handwriting was sharp and slanted, like you wrote too fast. And that your drawings were always blooming. Never angry. Never dark.
They were everything he wasnβt.
And maybe, somewhere deep down, thatβs why he couldnβt bring himself to hate you.
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You started leaving little messages.
Nothing big. Just a few words along the edge of your inked vines.
βRain again today.β βThey spelled my name wrong at breakfast.β βTransfiguration quiz was murder. Howβd you do?β
You never got real answers.
But sometimes, a single tick appeared. A mark.
He was reading them.
You couldnβt explain why that made your chest feel full and aching.
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Mattheo stared at the latest message on his wrist, heart a little too loud.
βHow bad is your handwriting on a scale from 1 to my Potions partner?β
Without thinking, he dipped his quill in black ink and scrawled across his forearm:
βAtrocious. You?β
The second he wrote it, he froze.
His heartbeat stuttered. His lips parted slightly, like he couldnβt believe heβd actually responded in words.
He waited.
Then, ten minutes later, as he sat in Defense Against the Dark Arts pretending to listen,, his skin bloomed with new ink.
βSomewhere between deadly and charming.β
A pause.
βYou finally talked.β
He swallowed hard.
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You didnβt sleep that night.
You kept glancing at your arm, tracing over his words, wondering who he was. Where he was. If he looked at your drawings the same way you looked at his handwriting nowβlike it meant something more than skin.
Someone bumped into you hardβshoulder first, like they meant it.
You stumbled back, ink bottle in your hands slipping from your grip and smashing against the stone floor.
βWatch it,β a Slytherin girl sneered. You didnβt know her name, but youβd seen her around Riddle before. Always trailing. Always laughing too loud.
You knelt to pick up the pieces, cheeks burning, fingers trembling slightly from embarrassment.
A few people laughed. Most ignored you.
You didnβt notice the footsteps behind you until a hand reached down to help.
You froze.
Long fingers, calloused knuckles, green-ink vines creeping up pale skin.
Your eyes traced upward slowly. Wrist. Sleeve. Collar.
Face.
Dark curls. Warm brown eyes. Sharp jaw. Tense mouth.
Mattheo Riddle.
He didnβt say anything.
He just held your gaze.
You stared at him, unsure if you were dreaming, because there it wasβyour drawingβyour ivy. Still visible. Still real.
βItβs you,β you whispered.
His mouth twitched. βYou make my skin look ridiculous.β
You choked out a laugh, blinking fast, breath catching.
βYou never told me who you were.β
βYou never asked.β
You shook your head, stunned.
βI thought you hated me.β
βI thought I would,β he said quietly, brushing a bit of broken glass aside. βBut I never did.β
You stood, heart slamming against your ribs.
βSo what now?β
He stared at you for a second longer, thenβslowlyβreached for your hand.
His thumb brushed the inside of your wrist, right over the last thing youβd written.
He pulled a quill from his pocketβhis ownβand dipped it in your ink pot before carefully, gently writing one word across your skin.
βStay.β
And then he leaned in, close enough to smell parchment and smoke and something darker.
βMay I?β he asked, voice rough, eyes burning into yours.
You nodded.
And his lips met yours in the softest, quietest kiss youβd ever known.
Like an answer to a question neither of you had asked aloud.
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Later, back in your dorm, you stared at your arm where a new drawing had begun to formβtiny stars, scattered like freckles across your skin.
Lorenzo Berkshire was going absolutely insane. What had he been thinking? Oh wait, he hadnβt been. It was a stupid bet. A drunken lapse in judgement that now had his head spinning in circles months later. He thought it shouldβve been simple. The whole premise of it was after all.
You could write or draw almost anything on your skin, and it would appear on your soulmate as well. A rather nifty bit of magic, Lorenzo had thought. Probably saved a lot of folk a fair bit of heartbreak over the centuries. There were limits of course. No names. No specific locations or such. Fate couldnβt make it too easy. But still, knowing there was someone out there you were meant to be with, and having a way to find them? Lorenzo found the whole thing to be quite convenient.
And he was so close. He was certain they went to Hogwarts. There were too many coincidences for them not to. The puffapod plant that first week. The hippogriff that had appeared on his forearm the same week Hagrid had brought that beast to the school. It all lined up. A little broom and quaffle on the back of his hand for Slytherinβs first match of the season. But every time he got close, it felt as if they slipped through his fingers.
And thatβs where you came in. His best friend. It hadnβt been any different from any of the other usual common room parties, except perhaps Enz had had one too many drinks. And perhaps he had monologued a bit too extensively about how he just wanted to find his soulmate. What could he say? He was a romantic. It wasn't a crime.
βGive it a rest man. At this point your soulmate probably knows exactly who you are, and youβve scared them off,β Theo groaned, already sick of Lorenzoβs griping. Only a week into classes and he was at it again with this soulmate nonsense.
βHeβs probably just too dense to pick up any of the hints his soulmate has been leaving,β you had replied with a laugh, giving Enz a teasing shove.
He just scoffed, looking down at you nestled comfortably next to him on the sofa.
βOh, bold words from someone who hasnβt found their soulmate yet either,β Enz had retorted, giving you a light flick to the forehead. You bat his hand away.
βOnly because I havenβt actually been looking. Iβm sure Iβd be able to find them faster than your sorry ass.β
It had only been meant as a joke. You both knew that. You and Enz were constantly throwing light hearted jabs at each other. It was basically the foundation of your friendship at this point. But you were also both competitive.
βYeah? Is that right? Wanna bet on that one?β
And so it had begun.
Two months. That was how long youβd known Lorenzo Berkshire was your soulmate. Your best friend of all people. Looking back, it was rather embarrassing that it had taken you this long to figure it out, especially with how enthusiastically Lorenzo had been searching the school. All this time it had been staring him in the face. Hidden in plain sight.
You don't know what you had been thinking when you had agreed to make a game of it. Idiotic.
It had all started in the first week back of the new school year; with one little, insignificant slip of parchment that had slid onto your desk during another one of Professor Binns' lethargic lessons. It had been far too early in the morning to be listening to the ghost ramble on about yet another goblin rebellion. And at this point, they were all beginning to blend together anyway. Eager for the distraction, you uncurled the small note to find a simple 'good morning sunshine' with a crudely drawn heart next to it. Seeing it had scratched a certain part of your brain, but you couldn't quite put a finger on it at the time. Looking up, Lorenzo had offered a little wave paired with his signature, self satisfied smirk.
It wasn't until the next morning that the pieces slowly began to fall into place. Like every other morning, you awoke to a simple 'good morning' scrawled on the back of your hand with a little heart. Things between you and your soulmate had always been simplistic in your opinion, so you had never bothered to put much thought to it, but now it looked oddly familiar. The itch returned, and you strained to think why this silly little message from your soulmate suddenly felt so familiar.
And that's when it had hit you.
Scrambling now, you dug the note from Lorenzo out of you bag, eyes analyzing each bend and curve of the letters. Identical. How had you been so blind? How many times had you seen Lorenzoβs writing? How many times had you borrowed his notes? Reviewed his essays? Read his letters over summer break?
Sitting back on your bed, your thoughts were running a mile a minute, mulling over what to do with your latest development. You didn't want to believe it. Or maybe you did. Actually, it was more like you couldn't believe it. Did you tell him now? Or ignore it and pretend to be none the wiser? Perhaps fake your death, change your name, and flee the country?
No, you decided. The best course of action was to let him figure it out on his own. (At least thatβs what you had thought at the time. Two months in and you werenβt entirely sure youβd made the wisest decision.) But heβd been searching all this time after all. And it just didn't feel like the right time. What if he didn't want you? Clearly it hadn't crossed his mind since in all his years of searching, he'd never once looked at you.
He seemed to want something grand, and perfect, and well, magical. And that just wasn't this.
Closing your eyes, you shake your head to clear your thoughts. Game face. None of that was important right now. The important thing, was that Lorenzo was your soulmate and he was your best friend, and what kind of friend would you be if you didn't make him suffer a bit?
βLook, look, see this? They have to be here,β Lorenzo says excitedly, brandishing his forearm out for you to see a bright pink and purple puffapod smack in the middle, mirroring your own that had been doodled there this morning.
βWow Enz, a plant. Riveting,β you reply, making your way over to your seat in the greenhouse.
It had been your first drawing to the boy since your little bet a week ago, and you had heard from Theo that Enz had practically been glowing since its appearance.
βNot just any plant, sunshine. A puffapod, which is the plant Sprout said weβd be covering today in class. So clearly, my soulmate is telling me theyβll be here today.β
βAn astute observation Berkshire, just one tiny issue. There are classes all bloody day. Whoβs to say theyβll be in this class in particular?β You sigh, pulling out your notes.
Look. Itβs not as if you wanted to intentionally mislead your friend, but really? No wonder he hadnβt gotten anywhere in his soulmate search, despite it being top of mind each year. If he wanted to know so badly, it wouldn't kill him to put in some work you thought.
Lorenzo groans at your point, his pretty face scrunching up in annoyance as he pulls his sleeve back down.
"I just think that when I see them, I'll know. I'll get the feeling. I just have to keep looking," Lorenzo replies, looking around the class at the other students, studying each face carefully.
"What if they don't want to be found?"
Enzo pauses, your question seeming to mull through his head for a moment before he shakes his head, brushing it off.
βFine then, howβs your search going? I reckon you havenβt found anything or I wouldnβt be hearing the end of it.β
βThatβs confidential I fear,β you reply with a grin, βWouldnβt want you to sabotage me now, would I?β
A cocky smile returns to Enzoβs face.
βYou wound me, sunshine! I would never!β He says dramatically, feigning a knife to the heart.
βYikes, maybe Theo was right. Maybe youβre scaring your soulmate off with, whatever that was,β you laugh.
βHush, you. You love it almost as much as you love me,β he replies smugly as you raise a disdainful eyebrow, side eyeing the boy.
"Careful there lover boy, or someone might think-"
Before you can finish your sentence, Professor Sprout bustles into the greenhouse, a cart of brightly colored plants following in her wake.
"It's a wonderful, beautiful day to learn about Puffapods!" she chirps happily, levitating a plant to each student's workbench. "Roll up those sleeves dearies! It's going to be a messy day!"
You feel Lorenzo's curious eyes on you when you don't make a move to roll up the sleeves of your shirt.
"A little dirt never hurt anyone," you say through a tight lipped smile, the drawing on your arm burning a hole through your heart.
Well this sucked. You'd have thought Draco would have learned his lesson after the first time a hippogriff sent him to the hospital wing, but apparently some things never changed.
"Your father will be hearing about this one," Lorenzo groans from his hospital bed, a cold pack pressed to his temple as he glared at the blonde boy in the next bed over.
"It wasn't my fault! If Hagrid just kept those bloody beasts away from me-"
"It was entirely your fault! You provoked that hippogriff for no reason! It was literally just sitting there minding its business!" you cut in, sitting up in your own hospital bed now to scowl at your friend.
Draco, despite being the cause for this whole mess, wasn't even the one with the brunt of the injuries. Just a few scratches and bruises. Enzo on the other hand, had taken a hoof to the head as he tried to pull you out of the way of the rearing beast. Unfortunately, he hadn't been able to save your wrist which was now broken, but it was better than being crushed alive.
"I didn't like the way it was looking at me," Draco grumbles defensively in response.
Oh when you got your hands on the little ferret-
Lucky for him, Madam Pomfrey chose just that moment to burst back through the doors of the hospital wing, tutting at her three newest charges.
"Alright Mr. Malfoy, you can go," she says, giving him a quick glance over before making her way over to Lorenzo to examine the side of his head where he had been kicked.
"Are you sure? I hurt everywhere," Draco whines.
"Mr. Malfoy you are perfectly well, and I have others to look after," Madam Pomfrey replies, dismissing the boy.
Draco lets out a dramatic huff before limping his way out of the infirmary.
"That boy," you hear her mutter under her breath before handing Lorenzo a vial of glimmering red liquid. "Sip of this twice a day until it's gone," she instructs. "Now off with you as well."
Lorenzo glances over at you.
"They gonna be alright?" He asks, taking the vial.
"Oh y/l/n will be fine. Bit of skele-gro and they'll be good as new. Now off you go. They need rest."
Hesitantly, Lorenzo gets up, wincing slightly, before making his way over to you.
"Sorry about your wrist, I didn't- I tried to-"
"It's alright Enz," you interrupt, trying to give the boy a reassuring smile. It comes out as more of a grimace though. "You got me out of there and that's what matters. Thank you."
Lorenzo gives you a weak smile and a short nod before turning to leave.
"Alright then, a bit of this and you should be out by morning," Madam Pomfrey says, bringing another vial over to the bed. "As long as the bones grow back correctly of course."
Salazar help you.
You can feel the sunlight on you before you open your eyes. It had been a long and rough night. Who knew re-growing your own bones would be that painful? Slowly, you let your eyes flutter open, trying to adjust to the light, only to be met with piercing eyes staring down at you.
"Bloody hell Theo," you yelp, jolting awake.
"Interesting sketch you got there," he says, cutting to the chase as he gestures to your arm.
You feel yourself freeze for a split second before you look down at the outline of a hippogriff you had drawn last night. There weren't exactly lots of things to do while Madam Pomfrey was holding you hostage in the hospital wing.
"Enz has pretty much interrogated everyone in your care of magical creatures class. Even Draco."
"Please don't tell him," you whisper, looking down.
"How long have you known?"
"Few days before we made that stupid bet," you reply, head falling back onto your pillow.
"That was almost two months ago."
"I know."
You hear Theo sigh. He's sitting now, bent over, face pressed into his hands when you finally look over.
"It's not my business," he says after an agonizingly long moment, "But don't hurt him. This is what he's wanted since we were kids-"
"I don't want to disappoint him."
You hear Theo let out another long sigh. Then a frustrated groan before he looks back up at you.
"Look. I'm not good at the whole supportiveness thing, but Enzo would never be disappointed. You don't see- Enz adores you okay? He's been a wreck since he left you up here all alone. Sent me up here to check on you because he's too busy baking you apology cookies with the house elves. So just- I don't know, think about it. You two are practically inseparable anyways."
You're almost too stunned to speak. You'd never heard Theo actually sound sincere before. It was weird.
"I- thanks Theo," you say finally.
"Don't mention it. Like actually don't. That was weirdly emotional, and I hated it. Also- try to act surprised when Enz brings you his apology cookies, I don't think I was supposed to say anything about that."
And with that, Theo is gone, leaving his words echoing through your head as you drift back off to sleep.
"This is the day, I can feel it," Enzo announces, pulling on his dark green quidditch robes.
"Bull. You've been saying that shit for years. Focus up Enz," Matt replies. They had a match to win.
"No, no, this time, I have a list. All the possibilities between herbology and care of magical creatures! And there's this," Lorenzo says excitedly, showing off the brooms and quaffle that were dancing across the back of his hand. "They'll be here today. Certain of it."
"You're always certain. Now get you're head in the game, I wanna win," Theo responds gruffly, not quite able to meet Enzo's eyes.
"Fine, I'll shut up, but you'll see," Lorenzo relents, tossing his hands up in surrender.
It had been a brutal game. One they had almost lost to those bloody Gryffindors. They would've been doomed if they hadn't built up such a lead from scoring before Potter caught the damned snitch. That was the only silver lining for the lions. Draco had almost had it too.
"You have a good time, sunshine?" Enz asks, sauntering over to you after the game.
"Watching a bunch of sweaty witches and wizards fly around for a couple hours? Hardly," you tease as the boy wraps you into a bear hug.
βCanβt believe we almost lost to those bloody lions,β Lorenzo mumbles into your hair.
βHush, you played great,β you reply, your words muffled from being smothered by the brunette boy.
βI did, didnβt I?β Enz says with a cocky grin, finally releasing you.
You continue to talk with your best friend, but it quickly becomes clear that his mind is elsewhere as his eyes flicker between you and scanning the slowly dwindling crowd behind you.
βLooking for someone?β You ask curiously, turning to see what could have possibly caught Lorenzoβs attention.
βNo! Well, I donβt know. Maybe? I just thought- I was certainβ¦β Lorenzo trails off, eyes still searching the crowd desperately.
βThis about your soulmate?β You ask, reaching out to hold the boyβs arm.
Lorenzo looks down at you and you can see the hurt on his face. Thereβs a pang of guilt in your chest as you meet his eyes.
βI donβt know what I thought. That theyβd make some kind of gesture? That theyβd come see me after if we won? Stupid. They have to know itβs me though,β Lorenzo lets out a long sigh. βSorry sunshine, youβre probably as sick as everyone else of me going on about all this,β he says, running a hand through his tousled hair.
You open your mouth to protest, but before you get the chance Lorenzo presses a quick kiss to the top of your head before turning towards the Slytherin locker room.
βSee you tonight sunshine.β
Your eyes follow as he walks away, feet dragging. From over Lorenzoβs shoulder, you can see Theo standing in the doorway of the locker room, eyes drilling into you. He doesnβt say anything, but the message is clear. You needed to tell him.
It was late. Even through the shadowy, murky waters of the black lake, you could tell that the sky outside was dark. And yet, the Slytherin common room was brimming with life, students still riding the high of the win against Gryffindor.
βSomeoneβs deep in thought,β Pansy comments dryly, placing a cup of amber liquid in your hands and giving you a small nod before tipping back her own drink.
βJust tired is all,β you reply lamely, swirling your glass for a moment before taking a sip yourself.
The familiar burn is barely noticeable as you already had a healthy buzz going. You didnβt even want to imagine what kind of condition the boys were in. They always went all in after a win, and a win against the lions was always a promise for a particularly rowdy night.
As if your thoughts had summoned them, Enzo, Theo and Matt push (read: stumble) their way through the crowd, joining you and Pansy in your secluded corner.
βHey there sunshine, fancy seeing you here,β Lorenzo drawls, pulling you into a tight hug as soon as he spots you. You can smell the bitter scent of alcohol on him.
βSalazar, youβd think they were his soulmate the way Enz throws himself at them constantly,β Pansy mutters under her breath to Theo who just grunts back, a masterful plan beginning to form in his drunken mind.
Theo had been watching the two of you, you and Lorenzo that is, since that day in the hospital wing. The way you two were attached at the hip, yet constantly skirting around one another. But always in your own world together. Honestly he had no idea how Enz hadnβt figured it out yet. And really, he didnβt see why Enz even cared given the fact that he couldnβt seem to keep his hands off you.
Regardless, it was beginning to be unbearable. Combining your skittishness and guilty looks with Enzoβs near constant pining, Theo and the rest of the group were about to lose their damn minds. It needed to end tonight, and Theo was bound and determined to make it happen.
It didnβt take long for the conversation to turn to the topic of soulmates.
Drunk Mattheo had always been such an instigator. Even without Theo egging him on this time.
And he just so happened to remember that silly little bet youβd made all those weeks ago at the beginning of term.
βWe all know Enz has come up empty handed, what about you, y/n? Anything you want to share with the class?β Mattheo asks, his usual troublesome grin plastered across his face.
βShove it, Matt,β you snap, trying to hide behind your cup as you take another long sip.
βIβll take that as a solid maybe,β Matt replies with a cheerful smile, raising his glass condescendingly.
βFuck the whole soulmate bit, honestly. Iβm sick of whatever game my soulmate is playing,β Lorenzo blurts out, shocking the group to near silence.
For as long as youβd all known him, heβd been a bit of a hopeless romantic. Maybe even to a fault. None of you had ever thought heβd be one to give up on his soulmate.
βWell,β Theo drawls after everyone has recovered, βThereβs always one way to find out if theyβre here at Hogwarts or not.β
Your eyes snap to the Italian, silently trying to figure out what the boy is playing at. Lorenzo leans towards his friend, swaying slightly as you try to steady him. Clearly having the groupβs attention, with a quick flick of his wand, Theo is brandishing a simple black marker. Your eyes go wide, knowing exactly where this is going.
βCβmere Enz,β Theo says, beckoning your friend forward.
As if under the imperious curse, Lorenzo lurches forward despite your protest.
βReally Theo?β You ask, trying to at least buy a few seconds as Theo moves the marker to hover in front of Lorenzoβs face. βYouβre honestly going to trust Theo of all people to draw on your face Enz?β
Itβs too late as you watch, helplessly, as Theo makes a few quick scribbles across Enzoβs cheek before vanishing the writing tool. For a moment, everyone is too focused on the crude doodle on Enzoβs face to notice your hand rising to touch the matching ink.
βReally Theo? Immature prat, thatβs phallic,β Pansy sighs rolling her eyes, not really seeming all that surprised by the boyβs antics.
Itβs not until Enzoβs eyes lock with yours that the whole group fully grasps the reality of the situation. Pansyβs mouth forms a silent βoβ, while Matt hardly seems surprised, more concerned with refilling his drink.
βWhat the fuck Theodore!β You shriek, lunging at the boy once you fully zero in on the black lines on Enzoβs face which were mirrored on your own.
Lorenzo stands, too drunk and too stunned as Pansy and Matt half-heartedly try to keep you from sending the killing curse Theoβs way.
βI think itβs time you and Enz have a chat, priorities and all,β Pansy says, prying you away from Theo as Matt leads the other boy off, their drunken laughter trailing away. "I'll make sure their dorm is empty for the night." The dark haired girl gives you a pointed look before she too disappears into the crowd, assumedly to find the other boys.
Taking a deep breath in, you turn to see Lorenzo looking at you like a kicked puppy, the stark outlines of the dick Theo had drawn on his face sticking out rather harshly.
"C'mon Enz, let's get cleaned up. I don't think either of us want to have this conversation with a penis drawn on our faces."
As soon as you step into the empty dormitory, a quick scourgify wipes the offending mark from Lorenzo's skin as you take a seat on his bed, but your friend just continues to stare at you from the door.
"You knew. You knew I was your soulmate and you didn't tell me," he says with a shakey breath. "You knew. And you said nothing." he says, his voice getting louder as his fists clench.
You try not to flinch away at Lorenzo's raised voice, but the look in your friend's eyes and the way he immediately collects himself tells you that you didn't do a very good job.
"I can explain. Enz, please, just let me explain," you beg, hating the hurt that was written all over the boy's face.
Lorenzo gestures for you to continue, but his feet remain planted firmly in place on the opposite side of the room. You supposed you deserved that though.
"Look, it- it all started back in the first week of school, when you passed me that note, in History of Magic," you start.
Lorenzo shifts where he's standing.
"That was before we even made that stupid bet. You knew before and you still let me make that stupid bet. Like an idiot." Lorenzo begins pacing around the room. "And did Theo know then too? Did everyone know but me?"
"No, it's not like that. You're not an idiot," you try to protest.
"Yeah? Then what is it like? Because to me, it seems like my best fucking friends have been lying to me for months. Bloody hell, all I've wanted for years was to find my soulmate. And you both knew that. So what was it? Was I not the one you wanted? Not good enough for you? Huh? Is that it?"
Before you can think twice, you find yourself across the room, reaching up to take a fist full of Lorenzo's hair and pulling his lips down to meet yours. The boy melts into you, hands finding their way to your waist as his fingers dig into your skin. His lips are warm as soft as they move against yours with agency, as if afraid you'll change your mind at any moment.
When you finally pull back, Lorenzo rests his forehead against yours, his breathes slowly steadying before he raises a finger between you two.
"No," he whispers, his voice raspy, "No, you don't get to just kiss me and make everything better, tell me why," he demands, pulling you down to sit with him on the floor.
"Well I was trying, but you kept interrupting me," you say, trying to lighten the mood a bit. "Um, when I first found out, I was just planning on teasing you a bit, having some fun with it you know?"
Lorenzo's eyes bore into yours as he traces circles on your leg, waiting for you to continue.
"But then, I suppose I got scared. You'd been looking for your soulmate for so long. And from all the times you'd talked about it, I knew you wanted some grand, special moment. It just never felt like the perfect time to tell you. Theo didn't find out until last week when he visited me in the hospital wing, by your request I might add, and told me I should tell you. Gave me a long inspirational speech about how I wouldn't disappoint you and everything. It was really strange actually. So then I was going to tell you today after your match-"
"And I blew it looking for someone else didn't I?" Lorenzo cuts in with a dry laugh.
"Just seemed like you were hoping it would be anyone but me."
Lorenzo takes your hands in his, slowly raising them to his lips before pressing a soft kiss to each knuckle.
"You, sunshine, are perfect. And I wouldn't want it to have been anyone else," he murmurs.
"Salazar, we're both a couple of idiots, aren't we?" you ask shaking your head, feeling the heat rise to your face.
"Course not, we're just soulmates," Lorenzo replies, standing up and offering you a hand. "Now, I seem to remember Pansy mentioning that she would make sure the others don't come back to the dormitory. She better be good for her word, because you sunshine, are mine for tonight. And forever."
Gahhhhh, it's fine, I only rewrote the entire thing once, but now I love itπ€
Hope this lived up to all your hopes and dreams anon, MWAH
Watching my toddler figure out how to language is fascinating. Yesterday we were stumped when he kept insisting there was a βLego winnerβ behind his bookshelf - it turned out to be a little Lego trophy cup. Not knowing the word for βtrophyβ, heβd extrapolated a word for βthing you can winβ. And then, just now, he held up his empty milk container and said, βMummy? Itβs not rubbish. Itβs allowed to be a bottle.β - meaning, effectively, βI want this. Donβt throw it away.β But to an adult ear, thereβs something quite lovely about βitβs allowed to be a bottle,β as if weβre acknowledging that the object is entitled to keep its title even in the absence of the original function.
My son was about three when he came to me in the middle of the day and said,Β βMommy, thereβs a knight behind the bush.β I thought he meant a toy knight or something. So I follow him outside and he goes,Β βListen. Do you hear it? Itβs night behind the bush.β It was a cricket. A cricket was standing in the little patch of shade under the bush, chirping. So, my son saw this dark area with accompanying nighttime sounds and decided, okay, well, that is a night right there. Their brains are incredible.
My little bean knows sheβs two, constantly saying proudly βIβm two!β And the other day she saw this very frail old lady who looked one foot in the grave, pulled a face and said βoh shiiiit. Sheβs three.β I almost screamed.
fanfic writers are so fucking awesome man. they write novel length fics that are sometimes even better than some published bestselling books written by professional writers. like fanfic writers are professional writers to me and they gift us their masterpieces for free. they give us something we can look forward to after a long day. something from which we can seek comfort when life is hard. something that can be our own little getaway. in a world of capitalism, despite everything, they give us all of these for free. like holy fuck. shout out to every fanfic writer. I wish all fanfic writers a very βI love you with all my heart and soul. I thank you from the bottom of my heartβ
Summary: You have a nightmare, but the consulting criminal is there to calm you down.
Warnings: it's angsty at the beginning, but turns into comfort/fluff at the end, death (not really though, just in a dream), gun usage
A/N Hello! It's just a small piece I wrote after not writing any fanfiction for 7 years. I hope I did our dear Jim justice. Let me know what you think! Please keep in mind that English is not my first language.
You watched as he pressed the gun against his scalp. A smirk evident on his lips, like he wasn't bothered in the slightest by what he was about to do. Your heart raced, panic was written all over your face. No. This is not happening.
"Jim!" You tried calling his name, but he didn't hear you. You tried louder and louder, but it was like you weren't even here. Like you were just a ghost.
You wanted to run to him, to do something, but some kind of invisible force was holding you back. You couldn't get closer. You couldn't stop him.
Before you could yell out his name again, it happened. He pulled the trigger, a loud noise from the gun firing hit your ears and his body fell motionless on the ground, blood pooling around his head.
"No..." A whisper fell from your lips. Your hands were trembling, your heart squeezed.
"God, please no." Sobs started to rack your body, as knees your hit the hard ground beneath. The world around you began to fade. This is not happening...
You wake with a gasp, your eyes shot open. Despite the immobilizing panic your eyes quickly scan the room you're in and you recognize it as yours and Jim's shared bedroom. It was just a nightmare. Your eyes and cheeks were wet, and it felt as if your heart was about to jump out your chest. Despite the slight relief of realization that what you saw was indeed not real, you just couldn't calm down. You needed to see him.
Just when a thought of searching for Jim crossed your mind, you felt a hand on your shoulder, making you jump a little. You looked up, your frantic gaze meeting his concerned one.
He was still dressed in his day clothes, indicating that he probably didn't even went to sleep that night, even though it must be awfully late by now. Still, it wasn't a surprise, as Jim's sleeping patterns were a complete mess. He was either going over business with his clients or conveying orders to his employees or planinng his next move. His mind almost never stopping, which resulted in the man rarely getting any sleep at all.
His brows were furrowed, dark eyes scanning your face. Assessing your state it seemed obvious that it was a nightmare that has shaken you up so much.
"Hey, it's ok. It's ok." He spoke softly, his distinguishable accent pouring from every word. He sat down on the bed beside you and took you in his arms. You pressed your face into his chest, hearing his heartbeat; a clear indicator of him being alive. Your arms came around him, and you inhaled deeply, trying to calm down. The slightly faded scent of his cologne has grounded you further.
"I'm here." He said as he left a small kiss on your head. Seeing you in such a state bothered him. The sight made him frown. Many thought that Jim Moriarty didn't feel anything, that he was heartless. And while it is true for the most part, you were the exception. The only thing that mattered in the long run. You were partners in crime, most of the time; literally.
He propped his chin on your head, his thumb rubbing your back in a calming motion. Finally all the emotions started to slowly evaporate. Your heart rate started going back to normal, as you soaked in Jim's touch, his warmth, his scent, his whole being.
You were the only person who's distress bothered Jim. You're his favourite person afterall. The only equal in this world full of ordinary people. And he will always be there for his one and only other extraordinary person.
the one where Blaise notices the Malfoy signet ring on your finger.
send draco requests.
-
The air smells like a combination of Draco and yourself, but mostly Draco - notes of citrus overlaid with the scent of tea and smoky wood. His sheets are cool against the surface of your skin, a sensation which lends a sharp contrast to the warmth of his bare chest against your cheek. You can feel one of his hands tracing patterns onto the skin of your back, as he other hand fiddles absently with your fingers which you have splayed out across his chest, a lazy post-coital haze surrounding you both.
βWho knew the Draco Malfoy would be one for cuddling,β you say teasingly your fingers tugging lightly on the long slender digits which are still tangled with yours. This isnβt the first time youβve been here, your naked form flush against Dracoβs in the same bed in which he had you legs hooked over his shoulder, his name a litany on your lips just mere moments ago.
βIβm not,β he scoffs with a roll of his eyes, as he manages to squeeze your fingers in his, a subtle battle for dominance among you both.
βAlright then,β you say both suddenly and with a calculated carelessness as you push your hands, fingers still tangled in his against his chest as you make a move to sit up. The covers slip easily down your skin with no clothes to act as friction. It exposes you, your nipples hardening upon contact with the cool air. Youβe barely managed to get up when you feel the arm wrapped around you shift, fingers pressing more firmly into your hip to pull you back down.
βWhere do you think youβre going,β Draco questions. He keeps his tone indifferent but the arm which has tightened around your body tells a different story.
βIβm sure Theo likes to cuddle,β you express matter of factly, keeping your expression innocent and it earns you an icy gaze from the blonde, cool grey boring in you. Draco observes you for almost a full minute before speaking.
βIβm sure he does not,β is what he finally says as a retort, his tone more disgruntled this time.
You open your mouth to disagree only to feel your back pressed flat into the mattress, Dracoβs body now covering yours, his movements swift. You see the glint in his eyes as he lowers his head towards yours.
βDraco,β you breathe his name out. He doesnβt respond but presses his lips to yours. His hands find yours, fingers tangling together, pinning your hands above your head. You kiss him back, teeth nipping his lip lightly which earns your a low growl from the back of his throat. You can feel Draco hardening, his length pressed against your stomach. Your almost miss it with the competing sensations overtaking your body - lips, hands, skin, but your brain manages to register the feeling of Draco slipping cool metal from the signet ring on his last finger onto your index.
-
βWell, well, well - look who decided to join us,β Blaise calls out too cheerily, taking in the sight of you and Draco walking into the small sitting room in what had come to be Dracoβs side of the Malfoy manor.
βIt is surprising that Iβm joining you in the sitting room of the Malfoy manor,β comes Dracoβs reply which earns a good natured chortle from Theo and an eye roll from Pansy.
βWell, you canβt blame us for thinking that you two would be,β Blaise pauses for dramatic effect, ββ¦otherwise occupied.β His unsaid words clear.
As with the rest, you and Draco had been childhood friends. However, years of tension that neither of you had acted upon had only cumulated more recently, and with Pansyβs blessing, into this, whatever it was. You both hadnβt yet spoken about it, the touching, sleepovers, sex, and there had been no outward proclamations to the world at large that either of you was anything other than single, and yet - it was no secret among anyone who knew either of you that you were both very unavailable.
βYou mean book club?β You managed to keep a straight face as you question Blaise too innocently. It earns you a smirk from Draco and an amused chuckle from Pansy, your joke clear as you stop by the table facing the floor to ceiling windows which they are sitting by.
You reach across the table for a handful of blueberries from a bowl beside Theoβs elbow when you feel Blaise grab your wrist lightly, his fingers curling around, as he holds your wrist up in triumph, brandishing it around. You place your free hand flat down on the surface of the table, stabilising yourself as you lean forward into Blaiseβs pull.
βI didnβt know book club members were all given the Malfoy signet ring,β he grins wildly at the discovery. The groupβs gaze flickers to Dracoβs hand, noticing the lack of the ring, usually a mainstay, on his the last finger of his left hand.
βIf I join book club could I get one too?β Theo quips cheekily as you feel your cheeks start to heat both at your current plight as well as with recollection of what had been a subtle act of possessive on Dracoβs part earlier.
βZabini,β Draco says, tone still even as he reaches over, his hand curling around your forearm, tugging you out of Blaiseβs grip, while ignoring Theo, βif sheβs wearing the Malfoy signet ring donβt you think you should think twice before manhandling her?β
βIs she yours Draco,β Pansy adds to the chaos, an equally wide smirk on her face as Blaise lets your wrist slip out from his hold with ease while throwing you a wink.
βIf you thought otherwise then you lot must be more dim than I thought ,β is all Draco says as he sits down. He lets you drop onto the chair beside him before reaching over to pull the piece of furniture and you closer to his side, the drag of it on the floor audible.
It earns him a whoop from Blaise, two hands throw up in the air from Theo as he yells βfinallyβ, and a laugh from Pansy who blows a kiss at you.
Draco slides his arm across the back of the chair, before looking at you brows lifted slightly, but his question is clear, youβve never spoke about this and Draco wants to know - are you okay with this?
βI am,β you say as you lean forward to press your lips briefly against his. It only causes a louder ruckus at the table.
giggling, squealing + kicking my feet in the air for this!!
itβs the βiβm sure he does notβ, βif you thought otherwise than you lot must be more dim than I thoughtβ and the βif sheβs wearing the Malfoy signet ring donβt you think you should think twice before manhandling her?β for me π« π«
β‘ Sharing stolen kisses in the library when you think no one is watching and he doesnβt really care if anyone is watching. Thereβs a satisfying alure of possession which paints through his eyes as he glances toward you between reading paragraphs in textbooks, he is aware he should be far more focused on, but hey β time with you is just as well spent as time studying. He also thinks it is adorable that you canβt reach the top bookshelves in the library so will taunt you with those almost barely-there kisses where his lips skim across yours teasingly until you ask him to grab down what youβre after with a whimpered βpleaseβ¦β
β‘ Appreciating that little smirk that he flashes you after heβs won a duel and knows youβve been watching or just found out heβs scored top of the class β again. Itβs the way that the corners of his lips turn up ever so slightly β which paired with how his eyes lock into yours when you shoot him a glance that has your throat dry up almost immediately in time with your knees feeling weak.
β‘ Most girls get flowers and chocolates for Valentineβs Day, Birthdays, Anniversaries β from Tom you get cryptic puzzles, meticulously crafted potions and restricted reading materials which he feels are far more personal and intimate.
β‘ Youβre the absolute belle of the ball at Slug Club dinners β you hang off every word Tom says; his voice both delectable and charming, and Tom isnβt shy to rest an arm around the back of your chair or slink it around your waist as he rests back absolutely cool, calm and collected that youβre his and he has no competition whatsoever for your smitten attention. If anyone does look your way β expect firm fingers gripping into your side hard enough to leave bruising and a chesty possessive growl thatβs just loud enough for you to take note of.
β‘ βFuckβ is your favourite word of his because itβs hardly ever said, but when you do hear it; itβs usually paired with him groaning against your skin after a particularly heated make-out session either in his dorm or in a secluded part of the castle what more do you want than his hands all over you and to hear him? Ughhhhh!
β‘ Speaking of favourites β Tomβs favourite phrase to be aimed at you is βyou like that, huh?β Itβs almost always paired with you moaning, back arched, your 6th orgasm of the night rolling off the tip of your tongue and heβs managed to not take a single piece of clothing off you. His favourite scent (outside of your cunt) well thatβs your floral perfume mixed with sweat at how worked up youβve gotten over his feather light touch.
β‘ Tomβs tie or belt to restrain your hands behind your back or above your head? Nah β he prefers to use your panties which he takes pleasure in pulling off you using his teeth after what seems like a forever torture of kisses, nips and love bites at the soft inner skin of your thighs. His tie? Yeah thatβs usually shoved between your teeth when in more public places to help keep you quiet. The head boy canβt be getting himself into trouble now can he for his impromptu rendezvous.
β‘ He appreciates your intelligence and curiosity and the two of you will often spend hours discussing theories or ideologies within each otherβs comfortable presence irrespective of who is around and their thoughts on the subjects both allowed and taboo which youβre chatting about β but when youβre alone, he appreciates the way your eyes go doe-like when youβre on your knees with his cock in your mouth; his hands knotted into your hair as he gets you to run back over everything youβd earlier discussed and change your mind and words until they agree with his.
β‘ Thereβs an engagement ring in his beside top drawer β itβs been there since 5th year when you both started dating and mentioned on a whim that you preferred emeralds over diamonds because of their colour and shine. Youβve seen it. He knows you have. At every rather large milestone or event, he gives you that βoh so possibleβ feeling that he might just drop down on one knee like a perfect gentleman and ask you to take on his last name, but noβ¦ heβs patient enough to wait. 9pm in the Astronomy Tower on the Thursday before your graduate is when youβll receive it. Heβs in absolutely no rush and doesnβt particularly need a ring to symbolize that he wants to spend the rest of his life with you.
a thank you to @darkmarkmarauder for their tmr writing for inspiring this xo
Request; What about a Tom Riddle x violin player! ravenclaw! reader? She was usually quiet and was fine being alone as everyone all had their attention on him most of the time. She enjoys playing her violin alone during free time. Tom found out when he accidentally eavesdrop on her talking to Slughorn for his party asking if she can play but she respectfully decline.
short fic, not really any romance but if you want you can totally interpret it that way, mostly just lotta soft fluff and Tom enjoying music and then opening up to each other. enjoy!
warnings; implication of suicide of a parent.
=
Tom closed his eyes as the familiar sweet sounds of a well-played violin played through the corridors. It had become routine for him and whoever played it, theyβd start playing after curfew-finding a spot somewhere in the castle to play alone, but somehow the sound reached his ears every night when he went patrolling.
It was a moment of understanding, a moment of mental quietness, just enjoying the music-listening to the tune that drifted down to him. Heβd been curious about who the mysterious musician was, but had a strange feeling that they didnβt want to be known, so he settled to appreciate their music from the sound alone.
When the soft strings stopped, Tom opened his eyes and moved on, continuing through the corridor as he finished up his nightly route, passing by a turret staircase which moments later, walked down the musician, holding violin case in hand-heading for her common room-unaware someone had heard her play and enjoyed hearing it.
(y/n) (l/n). 6th year Ravenclaw, quiet, loner but not lonely, violinist. She went up to the northern tower every night, standing on the spiral steps next to a stained glass window, and played-for many reasons. To end her day, to ease her mind, to practice, to enjoy the music that came from her fingertips. She played for herself, and that was that.
She sighed as she went up to the Ravenclaw tower, the bronze eagle guarding the door speaking to her as is wings spread wide. βWhat runs, but never walks. Murmurs, but never talks. Has a bed, but never sleeps. And has a mouth, but never eats?β the guardian of the Ravenclaw common room asked her and she only took a moment to think about it.
βA river.β (y/n) answered and the door swung open for her. She walked inside and headed for her dorm room-setting her violin case into her bed drawer and getting changed for bed, since it was past curfew. She took off her prefect pin and set it on her bedside table, hanging up her robe in her closet.
She washes her face, brushes her teeth, and goes to bed.
-
Tom flipped through the potions papers he had in hand, heading towards Slughornβs classroom with a plan to butter the old man up so he could gain more connections through the easy to please professor, pausing just outside the classroom as the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuffs left the classroom, their lesson just having ended.
Many of the girls gave him second glances-Tom gave a handsome smirk back and they giggled-swooning as they went down the corridor. Tom knew his power and he while he didnβt always indulge in flaunting it, it was never not fun to make people bend to his will.
βMs. (l/n), if you would please-Iβve heard of your skill before! I could possibly even have some of the brightest conductors of the age to come to the party, Iβm sure theyβd have a spot for you in their orchestras.β Slughorn said loudly, trying to convince someone to doβ¦something-Tom was unsure, he knew Slughornβs annual Christmas party was coming up-possibly trying to convince a student to play at it?
Tom tilted to look inside, spotting the Ravenclaw prefect girl (y/n), heβd gone on patrol with her once or twice now, shaking her head in response to Slughornβs, request. βOh, no thank you sir, I have no plans to really take my playing anywhere-itβs just something I like to do.β (y/n) said softly, clutching her bookbag over her shoulder.
βI insist Ms. (l/n), everyone who hears you sings your praises!β Slughorn insisted, Tom knew why the professor wanted her there-for everyone to hear her, and for them to praise Slughorn for finding such talent within Hogwarts. Tom pitied the poor girl who clearly didnβt want to play at the party so he knocked on the door, stepping inside-gaining the attention of (y/n) and Slughorn. βTom, my boy! What do you need?β Slughorn said, always happy to see his favorite student and Tom smiled pleasantly, stepping forward with the potion papers in hand.
βGood afternoon professor, I just had some questions about the draught of sleeping death-it is quite the difficult potion to make and I wanted your expertise before the practical exam this week.β Tom said with a disarming smile and successfully got Slughornβs attention off (y/n) and to Tom. (y/n) gave Tom a quick thankful glance and he subtly nodded in return, watching her leave out of the corner of his eye before turning back to Slughorn, allowing the professor to drabble on about things Tom already knew.
-
Tom quickly figured out (y/n) was the nightly musician he listened to almost every night. After all, oddly enough-there werenβt that many musicians that played enough to be known about by Slughorn. Along with the fact that Tom had ended up finding the tower where the violin was originating from-leaning against the bottom of the staircase as he closed his eyes, listening to the skilled sound of the violin player.
Soon it went quiet and Tom straightened up a bit, hearing whoever it was making their way down the staircase until they bumped into him. It was (y/n). βshit-β (y/n) cursed, Tom catching her as she stumbled back against the staircase.
βyou play beautifully,β Tom murmured and (y/n) flustered, clearing her throat as she clutched her violin case. βoh-uh-thank you.β (y/n) said, clearing her throat again as Tom released her arms and allowed her to pass him. βWhy donβt you play in front of anyone?β Tom asked before she could get too far and (y/n) paused, licking her lips as she turned back to Tom slightly, not looking at him.
βI justβ¦like playing, I donβt play for gratification, I justβ¦play.β (y/n) said, awkwardly and Tom nodded. He could appreciate that, play for oneself and not for applause and fame. βI hope I continue to hear you playing tomorrow night.β Tom said with a smirk and he left (y/n) alone, leaving her to stare after him.
The next night, on his prefect route-Tom heard (y/n) playing again, and once more, he stopped and listened. When she stopped and came down the tower again, they shared a glance and then they both walked away-(y/n) to Ravenclaw, Tom to Slytherin after finishing his route.
Then he began to join her on the stairs, sitting down a level down as she stood by the windowsill. The first time (y/n) got jump scared by him but he only chuckled and sat down, waiting for her to continue playing. She eventually did, then this became routine-sometimes she wouldnβt start playing until Tom arrived to sit with her, a one man audience.
Sometimes he brought a book to read while she played, sometimes homework, most of the time-he just sat, and listened to her play. βHow long have you been playing?β he asked quietly as she put her violin away. (y/n) paused for a moment before setting her bow into the case as well, snapping the case shut.
βAs long as I can remember myβ¦my mother played. She inspired me to play as well soβ¦β (y/n) murmured, picking up the violin case and holding it close as Tom nodded, standing with her.
βShe must be proud,β Tom said with a small smirk and (y/n) nodded slowly, her gaze far off. βShe was,β (y/n) murmured softly and Tom quickly realized what she meant by that, wincing softly. βAh, I apologize.β (y/n) shook her head, slowly moving past him as they walked down from the tower.
βNo, itβs okay, itβs been years. Butβ¦Iβd hope sheβd be proud of me, she always had high hopes for me.β (y/n) said softly as they walked down the corridor together. βShe most likely is, youβre a wonderful violinist, and while I havenβt heard many-Iβd say youβre the best Iβve heard.β Tom said with a hum and (y/n) turned her head to hide her blush.
βThank you,β she murmured, the two going their separate ways for the night like usual.
Two nights later, he asks her why she didnβt play in front of anybody, why she hadnβt taken the offer to play in front of famous conductors. βmy mom was a famous musician, played the violin of course butβ¦it got to her, the constant press, the push and pull of her conductors, I rarely saw her after I was old enough for her to leave me with a nanny or my dad, she lost her spark for it, because she stopped playing for herself and began to play for other people. She lost her spark in many ways andβ¦she died when I was seven,β (y/n) said softly and Tom understood what the βmany waysβ was.
βIβm sorry,β Tom murmured softly, his arms around his knees as he looked up at (y/n), her violin at her side, looking out the window-the moonlight across her face.
βItβs not your fault, but thank you.β (y/n) said softly, lifting her violin again, and playing. A mournful song, but full of love.
Between songs, he shared his life with her as well, about his mother. βI never knew my mother,β he murmured as she lowered her violin. βshe died when I was born, I only know her name, Merope Riddle.β (y/n) watched him carefully, there was no grief or sadness in his tone, justβ¦soft. A wonder of what couldβve been if his mother had survived his birth.
βIβm sure she loved you, and is proud of you.β (y/n) said softly and Tom looked up at her,Β no one had ever told him that. He swallowed down a lump in his throat, watching as she lifted her violin again, and played-this time, for his mother.
Things people in the notes have been able to do thanks to this post:
eat breakfast
go to bed
get out of bed
take a shower
write
practice
watch Superman Returns and write a paper on it
retain shreds of sanity
I need yβall to know that youβre doing amazing, and Iβm so glad that I was able to help you break out of a procrastination loop you did not want to be stuck in.
πππππππ - After a long, exhausting day, Y/N returns home to find Tom waiting for her like a devoted husband. Ignoring their children's relentless teasing, he helps her unwind, carries her to the dinner table, and dotes on her, proving once again that heβs utterly and shamelessly whipped.
πππππππ ππππ - Decided to write a version with the kids.
Y/N barely made it through the front door before she felt her body sag with exhaustion. Work had drained every ounce of energy from her, and all she wanted was to collapse. Before she could even kick off her shoes, warm hands were already on her shoulders, steady and familiar.
"Long day, my love?" Tomβs smooth voice was laced with concern as he gently removed her jacket, placing it neatly on the coat rack.
She sighed, leaning into his touch. "You have no idea."
"Oh, we do," Mattheo's voice rang from the couch, where he was lazily sprawled. "You shouldβve seen Dad ten minutes ago. Staring at the clock, pacing, checking the window every five seconds like some lovesick fool."
Tom shot his eldest son a glare before turning his attention back to Y/N, kneeling in front of her to unbuckle her heels. "Ignore them, my love. They are a product of your bad influence."
"Excuse you," Delphini piped up, flipping a page of her book. "You're literally kneeling at Mum's feet right now."
Marvolo, their youngest, was already at Y/Nβs side, wrapping his arms around her waist and nuzzling into her. "Mum, can you sit down now? You look tired."
Tom nodded in agreement as he effortlessly scooped her up bridal style, ignoring her small squeak of protest. "You are sitting down, whether you like it or not," he declared, carrying her into the dining room where a warm dinner was already set on the table.
"Okay, this is actually adorable," Delphini smirked, watching the scene unfold.
"Adorable? Try embarrassing," Mattheo said, shaking his head. "The Dark Lord, completely whipped."
Tom shot them both an unimpressed look but didnβt bother arguingβespecially not when Y/N was curling into him, resting her head against his chest. Instead, he placed her gently in her chair before pressing a lingering kiss to her forehead.
"You may all continue your insufferable teasing," he mused, brushing a hand through Y/Nβs hair, "but at the end of the day, she is mine."
Y/N chuckled softly, lifting a hand to cup his cheek. "And you, my love, are mine."
Marvolo gagged dramatically, while Delphini just shook her head with a knowing smirk.
"And proud of it," Tom quipped, pressing another kiss to Y/Nβs temple before finally sitting beside her, ensuring she ate while their children continued their relentless teasing.
