unstablereader

[unstablereader]

Thanks for the tag Darling 😘

Npt: @anawritez-posts @suugarbabe @kquil @somewereinthegalaxi @slytherinboysappreciation

Tag game

You take the last 5 songs you've listened to and make a poll where people vote which song is most your vibe

Thanks for the tag @godricgryffinsnore 🖤

npt🖤: @obsessedwithceleste @pizzaapeteer @riddlesrizzler @draco-malfoys-lovergirl @riddlesbunny @amongemeraldclouds @riddlemelater

[unstablereader]

lover boy

Spencer Reid x Rossi!daughter who didn't realize they were dating [1.7k words]

CW: fem!reader, Rossi's adult daughter works for the BAU [mother unknown], reader's referenced abandonment issues and is said to be commitment averse, reader's implied to be wearing a dress/skirt and stockings, sweet Spencer

Morgan often takes any opportunity to tease you for actually doing your job for once, but you hunched over case files isn’t actually as rare of a sight as he might lead one to believe. 

You’re a pain in the ass, for sure; Hotch’s mostly, his own a bit, and probably your father’s too, though Dave has the fatherly duty to love you for it anyways. But in spite of this – and any grief you cause the Bureau – you’re a damn good agent.

So, no, it’s not rare to see you dutifully finishing up your casefiles to submit to Hotch later. It is rare, though, to see you doing it alone.

“Where’s your lover boy?” He asks as he drapes his jacket over the back of his own chair a few desks over. 

Your head doesn’t move an inch but your eyes dart up from the files to meet his gaze. “Me? What lover boy?”

Morgan snorts. “What? You have more than one?” 

You smirk as your gaze returns to the file in front of you. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Morgan is saved from responding (or, perhaps, you’re saved from his response) as a coffee appears in your eyeline, carefully placed beside your paperwork by lithe fingers attached to a delicate wrist.

The groan the sight elicits from you is nearly pornographic. “Thank you, Spence.”

“What? No coffee for me, loverboy?” Morgan drawls. 

This, he notices, has your head popping up. 

“You know what?” Spencer offers, “I’ll give you my coffee if the croissant in that paper bag you’ve got there is for me.”

Checkmate Morgan thinks with a smile when Penelope appears in the bullpen as though the promise of croissants (or, perhaps, the sound of Derek’s voice) was a siren call signalling her demise. 

“You stay away from my sweet, sweet treat there, boy wonder.” She squeaks as she swipes the pastry from Derek’s desk. 

“That’s alright, Reid, we’ve all got our favourites.” Prentiss chuckles as Penelope munches gratefully and you take a sip from your coffee, narrow eyes fixated on the rest of the team as Spencer heads to place his lunch in the fridge in the break room. 

“My sweet, dashing deliverer of all things good in the world,” Penelope addresses Derek, likely speaking about the croissant she takes a pleased bite out of, “you know I love you more than life itself but why were you bargaining with my croissant?” 

“Oh relax baby girl, I’d never slight you like that. What my girl wants, my girl gets, just like Spencer’s girl over there.”

You snort a laugh at that, though you’re still scrutinizing Derek like you don’t completely trust him. With your life? Sure. With your feelings? Not a chance. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You really don’t know, do you?” Emily asks then, her posture softening as she considers you. 

“Know what?”

“That you and the doctor over there are dating.” Morgan answers.

“And have been for the better part of a year.” Emily adds; Penelope nodding in agreement. 

For perhaps the first time Derek can ever recall, you look genuinely stunned; perplexed, even.

“What? No. No, no. I don’t date.” You tell them, shaking your head as you busy yourself with organizing your desk. 

“Right.” Emily scoffs at the same time Derek laughs “Yes, you do; you’ve been going steady since at least the Christmas party last year.”

He thinks he notices you fluster at the memory; tipsy kisses under a mistletoe that – if Derek didn’t know any better – definitely led to some far less tipsy and way more intentional canoodling later on in the evening. 

The team had been smart enough not to comment on it though; the shift so slight but completely undeniable. The two of you have been basically inseparable ever since.

Whenever a case required shared rooms, you and Spencer were always quick to volunteer. When a case hit you particularly hard, Spencer was the first one you went looking for. In turn, you doted on him endlessly after a case got the better of the infamous Doctor Spencer Reid. Most of your free time outside of the BAU saw the two of you together as well, and the last time Spencer went to visit his mom, you travelled with him.

For you, that pretty much translates to married with kids. 

It’s quite clear to those who know you that you try to hide any potential abandonment issues and fears of commitment behind a facade of being a player. Derek’s just beginning to realize that Reid has found a cheat code to this when Emily carries on. 

“Tell me this then, Junior,” Emily smiles as she rests her hip against her desk, “when’s the last time you went on a date?”

Your brows furrow at her question but you begin wracking your brain for an answer.

You’re coming up short.

“I… well-” you stutter, shaking your head imperceptibly as though you couldn’t believe you were drawing a blank on this “I guess…when I went for drinks with that guy after the case in Vegas, but-”

“Wrong.” It’s Penelope who interrupts you. “Last weekend you let Reid drag you to that screening of the documentary about chimpanzees.”

“Okay, first of all, he didn’t drag me; I went willingly.” You bite out scathingly. Penelope doesn’t seem perturbed by your icy demeanor. “Secondly, that wasn’t a date.”

“No?” Emily goads, sharing a knowing look with Derek. “So I suppose that the run to the grocery store and then the dinner the two of you cooked together later that same evening wasn’t a date, either?” 

You’re about to ask her how she knows about this or, perhaps, what the fuck her problem is, when Spencer walks back into the room. 

“Hey Reid,” Derek starts, “what’s the exact definition of a date?”

Spencer’s stride slows as he makes it to his desk, brows furrowed though he answers dutifully. “A date is understood as the day of the month or year as specified by a number.”

“Not that kind of date.” Penelope chides gleefully, almost bouncing on the balls of her feet as she looks between the two of you. “A romantic date!” 

And if Spencer is confused by the line of questioning, his eagerness to transmit the improbable amount of data bouncing around in his skull wins out. 

“Well, I guess the understanding of a date would depend on the people involved…” He starts carefully. “What might be considered as a romantic gesture or event may not be considered romantic by someone else. But, I suppose spending time with another person who you feel fondness for by doing things you think they would enjoy, or that they think you would enjoy, and enjoying it simply because you're doing it with them could be considered a date. Generally it might involve food, drinks, movies, sightseeing, or something else depending on the people involved. Why?” 

“So, sort of like what you and Y/N have been doing for the past year, then?” Emily encourages as she stares resolutely at you. 

Spencer, for his part, has the grace to look somewhat bashful as he chances a look in your direction. 

“We’ve…been dating?” You whisper, lips parted as you look at Spencer. “Did you know?” 

Spencer’s mouth pinches uneasily but he nods his head yes anyways. 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” And if Derek didn’t know any better, he’d think you sound almost gutted at the realization – not that the two of you were dating, but rather – that Spencer hadn’t said anything about it. 

“Well…you’ve been happy.” Spencer starts carefully, clearly monitoring your face for any signs that you might lunge at him or take off running – neither option is completely out of the realm of possibility when it comes to you. “I don’t claim to be an expert on this by any means but I was fairly confident that I was making you happy and…and I knew you’d be less happy if I tried to put a label on it and, well, I was okay not acknowledging it if that’s what you needed.” 

And dammit, if Derek Morgan’s big-brother heart didn’t nearly bleed right out of his chest at that. 

Spencer seems slightly winded by the end of his admission, but he chances a few cautious steps in your direction. When he’s convinced that the probability of you taking off is slim to none, he closes the gap and crouches beside your chair, putting the two of you at more equal height. 

“I know this is…tricky territory for you,” he murmurs with a gentle brush to your stocking-clad knee with his thumb. Emily has the grace to make herself appear busy in order to award the two of you a modicum of privacy; Penelope and Derek have no such qualms and watch in awe, “nothing has to change. Or everything can change. We can drop it all together; this doesn’t have to be anything. Whatever you want.” 

Derek thinks you might start crying, which has him both intrigued and alarmed. He’s saved from having to decide how to navigate an emotional you by JJ, Hotch, and Rossi descending the stairs into the bullpen. 

“We’ve got a case.” Hotch announces at the same time JJ asks “what’s going on?” 

“Ah, good; have you finally told my daughter that the two of you are dating, kid?” Rossi sighs in that way that only a tired and fond father can, barely sparing your…boyfriend(?) or his own daughter’s completely affronted expression a second glance as he breezes towards the conference room. 

“Everyone knew?” You nearly wheeze. 

“I think you’re the only one who didn’t, nepo baby.” 

“Morgan.” Hotch reprimands, seeing the rest of the team quickly shuffle into the conference room. He does, however, spare you and Spencer a quick, proud, quirk of his lips that could possibly be misconstrued as an infamous Hotch almost-smile. “It’s about time, though.”

© ellecdc; do not copy, translate, or repost my work anywhere under any circumstances.

[unstablereader]

fuck, marry, kill

starring: Rossi!reader, Emily Prentiss featuring: Aaron Hotchner, Spencer Reid, David Rossi, Derek Morgan, Jennifer Jareau synopsis: Emily is bored & has a question for the team's nepo baby

A/N: concept w/ @unstablereader. reader is Rossi's daughter [mother unknown] & grew up in the Bureau. there's no ship? per se? so you can pretend it's anyone tbh

The ambient noise consists of the vibrations of the jet’s engines, the circulation of recycled air, and pages being flipped – pages which vary greatly from Hotch’s case files, Reid’s tome sized book in its original language, and your trashy magazine – after the case thus far was discussed and dissected to the team’s full potential.

And Emily is bored.

She’s tried sighing a few times which did little more than elicit sideways glances from both JJ and Morgan – a considerable feat considering they both had headphones in. She’s even tried challenging Reid to a game of chess. 

She’s left with but one option.

“Y/N,” she announces; the majority of the plane looking up at the intrusion of their quiet to look at her. The only sign you’ve heard her, though, it the way your brows raise imperceptibly where they remain pointing down at your magazine, “fuck, marry, kill: Reid, Morgan, Hotch.” 

Morgan whistles and JJ snickers, but Hotch looks up with a very pointed frown. “Prentiss; unprofessional.”

“Duly noted, sir.” She agrees readily before turning back towards you. “Y/N? What say you?” 

You smirk as you finally look up at Emily. 

“Em, what is it about me that strikes you as the type of girl who would ever have to choose?” You respond salaciously, earning more cheers and jeers from the group as your father audibly rolls his eyes. 

“Nepo baby gets what nepo baby wants.” Morgan purrs, though he’s smiling at you in the way Emily knows translates to this is all in good fun. 

You seem to read it for what it is, too. “Damn straight.” 

“Who raised you?” Rossi sighs; the question meant to be rhetorical. 

“You did.” Reid responds helpfully. “Though I suppose if we take into account the common saying that it takes a village to raise a child, I suppose it would be more accurate to state that the two most stable figures in Y/N’s life were you and Gideon. Basically, she was raised by the BAU.” 

“So that’s what’s wrong with me.” You muse. 

“So you really won’t choose?” JJ presses, headphones officially folded up in her lap as she dedicates herself completely to the conversation. 

“Why would I?” 

“To retain your job, perhaps.” Hotch sighs under his breath, though loud enough for everyone to hear it. 

“You can’t fire me.” You tease Hotch. “I have seniority here.” 

“Pretty girl, having been ushered from precinct to precinct from the age of six months old doesn’t give you seniority.” Morgan admonishes.

You and Rossi both furrow your brows at him as you respond in tandem. “Yes it does.” 

“Y/N, you cannot have three husbands, you have to choose one.” Rossi instructs. 

“Why? You had three wives.” You counter.

“Not at the same time, bella.” 

“Hey, the girl knows what she wants; I respect that.” Morgan defends you, earning him an appreciative smile from you and a derisive scoff from your father.

“You must get that from your mother.”

“Actually, recent studies have suggested that children – daughters, in particular – are more likely to imitate the dating patterns of their fathers. While they don't inherit their fathers' dating habits in a literal, genetic sense, by observing their fathers' behavior in relationships, daughters learn about the dynamics of love, commitment, and expectations in relationships.” Reid rattles off, smiling contentedly to himself before he looks up to notice the team staring at him. 

“Great,” you sigh sardonically, “so I can expect multiple failed marriages in my future.” 

Reid bounces his head back and forth in a so-so fashion. “Well if you plan on marrying me, Hotch, and Morgan, the chances of at least two of those marriages failing is quite high.” 

You lean forward almost predatorily as you smile at the doctor. 

“Oh? And any thoughts on which of those marriages might fail, Doctor Reid?”

But Reid hardly opens his mouth to respond before Rossi is sitting up straighter in his chair. “No, no. No.” 

“Dibs on being husband number three.” Derek proclaims. 

“Marry any of them and I’ll get uncle Jason involved.” Rossi threatens, though it seems to have the opposite effect on you. 

“Please; who do you think is walking Hotch down the aisle?” 

Hotch, for his part, turns to you with his signature scowl somehow impossibly deeper. You beam at him in response. 

“So, Rossi, how many weddings should we expect from Rossi Junior here if she’s gonna take after her old man?” Emily goads, turning the attention back to him.

“What are you at now, dad? Seven?” You add, faux innocence painting your features as you bat your lashes at him. 

“I’ve only been married three times and you know that.”

“Only.” You scoff with a roll of your eyes. 

“Are you happy now, Prentiss?” Hotch deadpans as he levels Emily with an unimpressed glare.

“Very, sir.” Emily agrees, leaning back in her chair and enjoying the sight of you and your father rapidly switching between English and Italian as the two of you volley insults and arguments alike.

[unstablereader]

Npt: @anawritez-posts @suugarbabe @slytherinboysappreciation @thatdammchickennugget

you are going on a blind date that pinterest set up for you, find out who will be the lucky one and how the evening will end 💌

on pinterest search the following topics and post the first pin that will show up in each category

fictional character. date night. gift. outfit. dessert. love quote.

tysm lyssy for the tag this is so pretty!! @bloodstainedsapphic

Npt 🏷️@moonpascal @thatdammchickennugget @obsessedwithceleste @acourtofchaos @leona-hawthorne @gibsluv @ur-local-wizard @riddlesrizzler @dearmisshoney @musingsofahufflepuff

[unstablereader]

charmed, i'm sure

(feat. accidental truth serum, public chaos, and one very flustered reader)

It starts during double Potions.

Snape’s droning on about the stability of truth serums, and Mattheo Riddle (gorgeous, brooding, completely full of himself) is stirring his cauldron with that signature air of boredom and menace.

You’re seated next to him. Unfortunately.

Well, technically it was alphabetical. But you’re starting to think fate just has a sense of humor.

Snape snaps his fingers. “Taste test. Two drops each.”

It's obvious he thinks no one made the potion right.

You arch a brow. “Taste the potion? Isn’t that, like, illegal?”

Mattheo shrugs. “Probably. But I’m dying to know what secrets you’re hiding.”

You roll your eyes and raise your vial. “Bottoms up, Riddle.”

And then.

He drinks. You pretend to drink.

You blink. He blinks.

And then... chaos.

“Your eyes,” he says dreamily, “should be illegal in academic settings. I can’t focus. I think I failed last week’s quiz because of them.”

You look over at him in horror. “What?”

“Oh no,” he says cheerfully. “I think it’s working.”

Snape narrows his eyes. “Mr. Riddle, is there a problem?”

Mattheo turns to him, absolutely beaming. “No, Professor. Unless you count the fact that I’m catastrophically in love with the girl next to me and have been writing her name over and over in the margins of my Arithmancy textbook for three months.”

There is a beat of silence.

You drop your quill.

Snape sighs. “Hospital wing. Now.”

“But I feel fine,” Mattheo says. “Better than fine. Actually, I feel free. Do you know how long I’ve wanted to tell her that her laugh makes me feel like I’m choking on happiness?”

You slap a hand over his mouth.

“Sorry, Professor,” you mutter, dragging him out of the classroom as fast as your legs can carry you. “He’s clearly unwell. Tragic. Don’t wait up.”

In the hallway, Mattheo’s grinning like a madman.

“Wait,” he says, eyes wide. “Did I tell them about the dreams yet?”

You freeze. “WHAT dreams?”

He looks slightly panicked. “Oh no.”

You push open the hospital wing door and hiss, “Mattheo Riddle, if you say one more thing that makes me want to throw myself out a window—”

“I think you’re smarter than me,” he blurts. “It’s not fair. You’re so clever. I watch you solve things and it’s like... like watching lightning happen in real time. And you don’t even brag about it. It’s disgusting. I’m obsessed with you.”

You gape at him.

Madam Pomfrey appears with a raised brow.

“Veritaserum, I assume?”

You nod numbly. “Yes. And please. Make it stop before he proposes.”

Mattheo places a hand on his chest, gasping. “Do you want me to?! Because I will. I have the ring picked out.”

A/N: missed this trainwreck | mattheo masterlist |

[unstablereader]

Hello! I was just wondering if I could request a spiderman x fem!reader smut? with peter parker as spiderman but the reader doesn't know spidermans secret identity. The reader and spiderman have a SHIT TON of sexual tension and it builds up until it results in them fucking in readers apartment with spider's mask still on? (my mask kink is CLEAR with this request lmao) you can choose if reader finds out spidey's secret identity at the end or not. I'd prefer the fic to be not rlly dom/sub but more of "we want eachother so bad it's pathetic for both of us" ilysm thank you <33333÷

you know, I really didn't think I'd be able to come up with something for this but!! hopefully I managed to do it justice <33

Spider-Man x fem!reader who ensnares him [1k words]

CW: reader has hair that can hang over the edge of a rooftop, reader wears lipgloss, oral (m receiving), implied oral (f receiving), mask kink? maybe? NSFW 18+ content

Peter isn’t a stalker, per se… at least not in the truest sense. The two of you meeting had certainly been innocent enough; it was a simple case of girl-too-engrossed-in-her-phone and taxicabs showing their typical disregard for human life as you stepped in front of moving traffic. 

No matter, Spider-Man was there to save the day. 

And then you’d trapped him; ensnared him with your wit and charm, perfectly timed smiles and quick banter that eventually saw Spider-Man actively searching you out in the busy city streets, looking for any excuse to soak you in. 

It didn’t take long for the banter to meander towards sinful before finally becoming, well, downright debauched. The continuous back-and-forth, will-they-won’t-they, euphemisms turned into rated-R accounts of what each of you wanted to do to the other, all the way to outright invitations for more. 

And fuck, Peter hadn’t swung by to walk you home from work with this in mind- well, no, that was a lie. He almost always had this in mind when he had you on his mind, but he swears this was only ever meant to be a fantasy. 

But then you were looking at him with those fucking eyes, smirking at him with those fucking lips, and feeling him up with those fucking hands - Christ, you were handsy – and what happened next was a blur. 

And this is decidedly not what this specific hole in his spider-suit was designed for but Peter is well past the point of being able to deny you anything so now, now the two of you are sequestered on some dark New York City rooftop with you on your knees and his cock shoved roughly down your throat and he wants to cry at how good you’re making him feel. 

You had made some smart quip at him at his choice of destination when he couldn’t handle your flirting anymore – at risk of having every pedestrian in New York witnessing Spider-Man’s undeniable hard on as you teased him relentlessly – when he snatched you up and whisked you away. 

“Why this rooftop?” You giggled by the time he had you on solid footing again, gesturing across the street with your chin at another empty rooftop with some chairs and – for all intents and purposes – slightly more hospitable than the rather barren rooftop he’d brought you to by comparison.

“I hate that rooftop. There’s a cat on it; raised by birds, it’s fucked.” He told you breathlessly. 

He nodded decisively to himself before turning back to you to see you looking at him incredulously. “What?”

“A…cat?”

“Raised by birds.” Peter agreed readily.

“You’re kidding me.” You asked, though it didn’t come out like a question. 

“Why would I joke about that? That’s double rabies, look it up.”

“You’re insane.” You laughed sharply. “You fight mutants, robots, you’ve been shot at-”

“Everyone needs to draw a line somewhere." He declared with a shrug of his shoulders. 

“Yeah?” You purred, batting your lashes at him again as you seemed to remember what he’d brought you up here for. “Do you have a line for me, handsome?”

Your hands were on him again and he managed to repress the shiver that threatened to shake his frame but didn’t bother holding back the groan it elicited. 

“Oh sweetheart,” he purred in response, “you’ve long since samba’d right over that line.” 

You let out a sound that bordered pleasure and a whimper. “Yeah? How can I make it up to you?” You murmured, fingernails drawing lines up and down his front; from his ribs, past his hip bones, down to the tops of his thighs again, missing right there with every pass of your hand.

That is, until he placed a gentle hand at the base of your neck like a pretty necklace – your eyes flaring in excitement – and gently encouraged you lower, lower, lower. 

And now, now he doesn’t know who’s making more erotic sounds, him as he inches closer and closer to his release above you, or you as he fucks into your mouth deeper and harder and jesus fucking christ he’s a goner. 

His hips stutter and you hum in response, pulling him closer to you by the back of his knees as he pulls you closer to him by the back of your head before he comes with a shout, spilling down your throat.

The city falls quiet for a few moments, the only sounds gracing Peter’s ears are the sounds of your mingled breaths – both heaving – and the double-rabies bird-raised cat howling on the adjacent rooftop. 

You clear your throat, bringing Peter back to his senses as he looks down to find you – uncharacteristically shy – brushing off the tops of your thighs before you make to stand.

Peter quickly takes each of your wrists and pulls you up, your previously salacious eyes falling shocked as you look up at him in wait. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” He asks, pulling you tightly into his chest and using his thumb to fix where some of your lipgloss smudged. 

“I-” you start, “well…I guess I-”

“Hm?” Peter teases, ushering you back, back, back until your knees come in contact with a halfwall, forcing you to sit. 

“I don’t…”

Peter nods encouragingly as he gets up in your space, leaning into you until you’re forced to lay flat on your back, your head a few, safe inches away from the edge of the building though the very ends of your hair ends up hanging above the city streets below you.

“Yeah?” He asks patronizingly before lifting the mask off of his face and handing it to you. “How about you hang onto this for me while you think about it, okay?”

You take the mask obediently but keep your bewildered gaze locked on Peter. 

“It’s my turn.” He says with a wicked grin as he busies himself with ridding you of your bottoms.

Peter didn’t swing by to walk you home from work with this in mind- well, no, that’s a lie. He almost always has this in mind when he has you on his mind, but he swears this was only ever meant to be a fantasy. 

This is so much better than fantasy. 

© ellecdc; do not copy, translate, or repost my work anywhere under any circumstances.

[unstablereader]

should have known better

Spencer Reid x afab!reader who underestimated him [934 words]

A/N: this is the fic I referenced in this post so pls note that I'm not able to accept requests for this character

CW: discusses smut but no smut takes place, still rated 18+ due to mature content, aftercare, fem!reader, reader is implied to be a member of the BAU, the first time Spencer and reader have been intimate like this

You’re not entirely sure what you had been expecting when you imagined what it would be like to finally find yourself underneath the FBI’s infamous Special Agent Doctor Spencer Reid, but – hindsight being 20/20 – you probably should have known better.

You should have known that a man with an eidetic memory and a penchant for reading detailed research articles in his spare time for fun would have ensured he was well informed about the finer details and inner workings of the female body. 

You should have known he would be practiced and precise. You should have known he would be intricate, careful, decisive. You should have known from his ability to talk (and talk and talk and talk) that he’d have no problem frequently checking in, asking if this was okay or if you liked this or – horrifically – what would make this better. 

You should have known that those dexterous fuckin’ hands of his would be your undoing; relentless, skilled, mind-numbing. You should have known that the way he managed to talk circles around anyone had nothing on the many other skills of his tongue.

You’re not entirely sure what you had been expecting when you finally found yourself underneath Spencer, but you should have known better.

Yet, even with the hindsight, you still found yourself underestimating him. 

He had stayed wrapped around you as the two of you caught your breaths; shy chuckles and gentle(r) kisses were shared before he’d padded off somewhere.

Exhausted, you didn’t spend much time dwelling on it; nearly asleep by the time he returned with a towel wrapped around his waist.

“Are you feeling okay to get up?” He asked with a soft tilt of his head; the same tilt of his head when he’d ask where you read that, or if you’ve seen a certain movie, or if you agreed that the latest unsub could be a middle aged male whose marriage dissolved due to infidelity. 

You tried – and likely failed – to hide the way your heart fell, interpreting his question as a desire for you to leave. 

“Oh! Uhm…” you began awkwardly, sitting up and covering your chest with one arm as you used the other to reach for your shirt which had been discarded some many passionate moments ago. “Yeah, sorry. I’ll go, I-”

But you were cut off by Spencer’s hand taking yours before you could manage to reach your shirt, finding you looking up into calm brown eyes flickering between each of yours. 

“I don’t want you to go.” He stated simply; far more casually than the anything-but-casual way your heart was ricocheting back and forth across your chest cavity. “I ran a bath.” 

“You…ran a bath.” You parotted; the question implicit. 

“Well, yeah, but I mean if-” 

“For…” You interrupted

“Us…” He finished with a careful nod, though his neck straightened as his voice dropped. “Though, we can forget the bath, or you’re welcome to take it on your own if you’re not interested in my company.”

“If I-” You let out with a disbelieving breath, carefully standing – on still shaking legs; damn you Spencer Reid – so you were at least somewhat at equal level with the unfairly tall doctor. “What?”

“Well, strenuous physical exertion often leads to muscle fatigue and soreness. A hot bath increases blood flow which delivers more oxygen and nutrients to the muscles, promoting muscle relaxation and reducing tension which can ultimately aid in the healing and recovery process.” He explained readily. “Additionally, the buoyancy of the water can take pressure off of joints and muscles, which also contributes to both relaxation and pain relief.”

“Right.” You agreed plainly. 

“I thought we could take a bath together because, apart from being nice and a good excuse to spend more time with you,” he added with a boyish smile which caused your stomach to swoop dramatically, “studies show that aftercare following intercourse should be both emotional and physical. While urinating after sex will help limit the risk of developing a UTI, the hot bath would take care of any tension or exertion of the muscles, and that time spent communicating, cuddling, and expressing further appreciation for one another helps partners foster a deeper connection.” 

“A…deeper connection.” You repeated; the question falling implicit once again. 

“Exactly.” Spencer agreed, cheeks pinked but carrying on when he seemed to remember something. “I also got a pitcher of cold water in order to rehydrate and made a cranberry mocktail in case urinating doesn’t completely avoid a UTI.” 

You stood there with your mouth slightly agape long enough that the space between Spencer’s brows divoted slightly; tendrils of insecurity making itself known on his face as you scrutinized him.

“What” you started breathlessly, bringing both of your hands up to cup each side of his face “brilliant, lovely, wonderful planet did they beam you down from?”

The divot reduced, his eyes crinkling slightly now that he knew your question was both positive and affectionate. 

“Does this mean that I can join you in the bath, then?” He asked as he leaned into your touch; his own hands gently gripping your hips in order to pull you slightly closer. 

“I’d be very disappointed if you didn’t, Dr. Reid.”

He breathed a laugh through his nose before he pulled you in for a chaste kiss, only pulling away in order to guide you by his hand at the small of your back in the direction of the bathroom. 

“From the look on your face earlier, I think it’d be safe to assume that would have been the first and only disappointment of the evening.”

© ellecdc; do not copy, translate, or repost my work anywhere under any circumstances.

[unstablereader]

Klaus Mikaelson X Soulmate!Reader x Elijah Mikaelson Ch. 29

Word Count- 8.3k

Warnings- swearing, death, and canon violence

PSA- THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS MENTIONS OF RACISM, HOMOPHOBIA, DEATH, AND ABUSE OF GAY POC. 

“You’re a bitch.”

“Good to see you too, My Love.”

I let out an almost animalistic growl as I turned over to Alastair, who was sitting beside me in the driver’s seat of his new Porsche. When I saw him after all this time, standing in the Mikaelsons’ foyer, I was surprised and slightly happy to see him, now that I remember everything he had done in the past few months, all I am is pissed. It doesn’t help that he gave me puppy eyes and pretty much begged me to let him drive me home since I didn’t have any way to get home, and oddly enough, Elijah was off doing whatever Elijah does in the shadows, and Klaus was plotting…again. I had told Alastair I’d rather walk, and then he said if I tried that he’d just follow me to make sure I got home safe, and he knows I hate walking. 

I’ve really got to stop giving my secrets away to strangers who end up being vampires.

“So you’re going to talk to me?”

I don’t turn away from the window, “Nope.”

“You technically just did.” I’m going to pull out my gun.

The ride continues in silence until we reach the gravel driveway of my house, which seems so much tinier after spending so long in the Mikaelson mansion. Mom’s car is in the driveway, parked along mine. 

Without another word, I hop out of the car as soon as Alastair puts it into park. 

“Y/n! Please just give me a second to explain myself, alright!”

“Nope.”

I hop up the stairs as I hear the vampire trail me. 

“You don’t understand why I had to do what I did,” The yearning was clear in his voice. 

I whip around and glare at him, “Then explain to me why?! Explain to me why you pretended to be my friend all this time, just for Klaus! Why are you so loyal to him!?”

Alastair rubs a hand over his face and then gestures with the same hand towards the staircase of the porch. With a dramatic huff I place my ass on the top step and Alastair sits on the one right below it. 

“I’m gay.”

“No surprise there.”

Alastair sends me a dirty look, and I respond with a raised brow. Obviously, I knew he was gay. He’d told me plenty of times when we would hang out together, especially when we talked about Supernatural and how he’d like to do certain things to Dean Winchester. 

“What I meant was… I’ve been gay for a long time. Like 200 years long. And being gay in this century is hard enough, can you imagine how hard it was for someone like me 300 years ago? I’m literally a gay black man, Y/n, times were and are hard for me.”

A wave of sadness washes over me at his words, and I nod for him to continue. 

“Even though I had to hide who I was… that didn’t stop me from falling in love,” A soft, sorrowful smile comes across his face, “August. His name was August and he was the most beautiful man I had ever laid my eyes on. And not to brag, but he thought the same of me. We kept our relationship a secret, hidden in the shadows. Meeting behind alleys, or whatever dark corner we could find, even if it was only for a single moment. Any moment with him was enough.”

He’s quiet now, as if he’s reliving the memories.

“We met up on a Friday night. He was in my embrace when the first hit came. The next thing I knew, a group of white men were kicking us. It went on for so long that I didn’t even know at what moment August had taken his last breath. One of the men had his boot on my throat, and I waited with bated breath for my final moments, but the next thing I heard was screaming. At first I thought it was my August, but when the man had moved his foot off my throat and I was able to turn over,” Alastair stops and I know what he must have seen, “Anyways, my eyes were practicality swollen shut from all the hits I had taken but I still made out the man ripping the others apart. I was about to lose consciousness when I felt something warm spill down my throat. A few hours later, I awoke and saw the same man sitting before me. He told me that August was dead and so weren’t the men that killed him, except one, who had run away during the bloodshed. He had told me that he could make all the memories go away and I’d forget this ever happened…Or I could become something no one could ever lay a hand on again.”

Alastair’s solemn face morphs into one of anger, “I chose the latter. Not being able to see the Sun was kind of a bummer then, but it didn’t stop me from finding the last man who took my August from me,” Alastair turns to look at me, “I ripped him apart. Tore him piece by piece. And it felt good…until it didn’t. Until I realized no matter how many people I killed, it still wouldn’t bring back the love of my life. That’s when Klaus found me again and took me under his wing, showed me control, and got me a daylight ring. As years went on, we kept in touch; he’d ask for a favor here and there, and I’d do it. Not because he made me, but because I wanted to. He had saved my life that day and then given me a new one. So when I got the call from him that only he trusted me to watch over his soulmate…I knew I had too. I know what it was like to lose the love of your life. I didn’t want that for my friend either. I had expected to be watching over some hot-headed nuisance like Klaus since y'all are bound, but… I didn’t expect to meet you. I remember the first time I saw you,” He laughs to himself, and I find myself smiling, “You were with Elena, and you guys were outside the Grill drinking Shirley Temples and then you proposed to see who could down theirs first,” He raises an eyebrow at me and I nod.

“And I won…”

“And then you threw it up in the bush,” Alastair's laugh is melodic, “And I remember watching you with…honestly disgust, but then you did something that made me pause. You laughed. You laughed so hard you fucking threw up again, and then Elena started laughing and you both were on the ground looking bat shit crazy next to a pile of vomit while passerbys gave you dirty looks. And at that moment, I knew you weren’t like him, like Klaus. You weren’t some copy…you were you. A girl thrown into a world that she wasn’t ready for, and I knew that I needed to make sure that world didn’t ruin that laugh of yours. And then a few weeks went by and I compelled myself a job as a bartender, and before I knew it, you weren’t just important to Klaus…you became important to me, too. You and you’re dumbass,” He points to me sarcastically, “moodswings.”

“So why did you leave?”

Alastair rolls his eyes, “Your boytoy got jealous. It must’ve been the night when you were on the verge of a panic attack, and all my immortal life I’ve always stood by Klaus’ side, but in that moment when he told me to leave you…I couldn’t. It was the first time in over 100 years I had chosen someone over him. And it didn’t help the way you clung to me, even when you were supposed to be mad at me. So he shipped me off to Denver to watch over your brother’s friend. He called me a few days ago and told me it was time to come home and that his brother would be taking my spot.”

I shake my head from the information overload, “Wait, you were stalking Jeremy?!”

“Stalking…watching over,” He makes a thoughtful face. 

“So, where does this leave us now?”

Alastair stands up and brushes himself off, and reaches a hand down for me to take. I think it over for a second and then place my hand in his, which makes a soft smile fall onto his face.

“That’s up to you. I’m here for the foreseeable future. And I kind of miss my work buddy, so…”

“For fucks sake,” I mutter before throwing my hands over Alastair’s shoulders and he quickly wraps his arms around me.

“You missed me, loser. Admit it.”

“Never.”

We part, and I give him a sideways grin, “Thank you for telling me everything, and I’m sorry about what happened to you.”

Alastair slightly shoves me and then shrugs, “Just don’t be going around town spilling my secrets, alright.”

I do a crossing-my-heart motion. 

“Y/n?”

My light mood instantly shifts as I hear my mother’s voice come from behind me. 

Alastair and I both turn to the dark-haired woman who stands at the front door with a blue robe wrapped around her. 

“Oh, Alastair! We haven’t seen you around here in some time,” My mother smiles at the man next to me, and he nods.

“I was away,” His now curt voice makes my mother nod.

“Well, Y/n’s got school in the morning, so she should be going to sleep now.”

I roll my eyes at my mother and then turn to Alastair, who is glaring at my mother. Ever since I told him a bit about my childhood, he’s always had disdain towards the woman. 

“Bye, loser,” Alastair places a kiss on the top of my head and then makes his way down the stairs. 

“Bye, Alastair.”

I turn back towards my mother and then push past her and go into the house.

“Why are you home so late, and whose clothes do you think you’re wearing?”

“Like you actually care,” I say as I continue to walk towards my room, but still hear her following after me.

“I am your mother and you’ll answer me when I talk to you,” She yells, and I whip around towards her. 

“Why don’t you just go back to work, Mom. That’s what you’re good at. Trust me, Theo and I are quite fine without you here. I’ve got the whole mother and father thing down.”

My harsh words stop her and give me the chance to open my door and shut it in her face. I sigh as I place my forehead on the frame of the door.

I hear a cough, and I whip around in surprise to see Theo lounging on my bed.

“Welcome home, Harlot.”

—--

“Theo, we are not having this discussion… GET IN THE CAR!”

Theo has been on a tangent about why I wasn’t home for a day, and then proceeded to come home in men’s clothing. He even camped out in my room so he could be all dramatic and catch me as soon as I came home. I eventually got him out of my room by grabbing him by the scruff of the neck like a mom cat does with her kittens. But of course, as soon as I was ready to be out the door for school this morning, Theo was camped out waiting for me. 

“I’ll get in the car if you tell me what happened.”

“Nothing happened, you freak!”

Theo, who is standing by the passenger door of my car, crosses his arms, “So why’d you come home a day late in men’s clothes?”

“None of your business.”

Theo groans, “C’mon! Ok, how about this, you tell me which one it was and then I’ll get into the car.”

I narrow my eyes at my brother, “You do realize how weird this is, right, Theo?! You’re my little brother, we’re not supposed to be talking about this stuff.”

Theo thinks to himself for a moment before nodding, “Ok yeah, but c’mon. Jeremy’s gone, and I’ve got nothing better to do than hear you’re fucked up life.”

Damn.

“Just tell me.”

“Nope,” I open the driver’s side door and step in, “Theo if you don’t get in right now I’m leaving your ass.”

Theo doesn’t move until I turn on the car, and he’s quickly getting into his seat.

“Damn fine,” He’s quiet for 3 seconds, “So….”

“Shut the fuck up Theo.”

—-

The rest of the school day consists of me avoiding Theo and Rebekah. Theo, who was somehow lurking around every corner, and Bekah whom I had every class with. She kept staring at me with a knowing smirk, and whenever I told her not to start, she would shrug and then ask me to help her set up for the upcoming decade dance, to which I denied each time. 

Caroline found me as she was leaving school and said she was going to be having a little talk with me soon, since she heard from Bonnie that I was at the Mikaelson’s looking, in Bonnie’s words, “perfectly fucked.” Caroline said she was pissed she wasn’t the first to find out but after she runs some errand she’s doing she’s going to have a chat with me. Great.

—-

The next morning, I awoke to a loud knock at my bedroom door. 

“Theo, I swear to God!”

“It’s me,” A soft, feminine voice comes from the other side, “It’s Elena.”

Oh Jesus. 

“Come in.”

I sit up in bed as I watch the doppelganger slowly enter my room with a shy smile. 

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

We both watch each other until Elena clears her throat, “How have you been?”

“What do you want, Elena?”

Elena frowns, “What do you mean?”

I give her an annoyed look, “I haven’t seen you in weeks, after you all continuously tried killing my soulmates and their family, and all of a sudden you’re here. Why?”

Elena is quiet as she walks over and sits on my desk chair, “I missed you.”

I give her an annoyed look, and she shakes her head.

“I swear I do. And I promise that I would never do anything to hurt you. Yes, I know that we tried to kill Klaus, but as soon as I found out that it would kill you, we stopped. We’ve been trying to find a way to break the bond you have with him and Elijah to free you.”

“What if I don’t want the bond to be broken?”

Elena pauses and gives me a weird look, “Y/n…what do you mean? Klaus, he’s a monster, he killed me! How could you want to be with him?”

“Didn’t Damon kill Jeremy?”

Elena flinches back in shock, “Well… yes, but he’s alright now!”

“And aren’t you?”

Elena stands up and shakes her head, “Why are you acting like this?! We’re trying to help you.”

“Elena, I don’t want to be helped! I don’t need it! I like Elijah and I like Klaus, even though they both get on my fucking nerves… I-,” I pause and run a hand over my face as I stand up, “Do you not even realize that at just the thought of losing the bond, I feel like I’m literally going to die? I know what Klaus did to you and I’ll never forgive him for it, but…you guys can’t act like the Mikaelsons are the only people who have done wrong in this town.”

“Y/n, I didn’t know…”

“Of course you didn’t,” I raise my hands in exhaustion, “How could you? You never call or text anymore! All you guys care about is killing the people who have actually given me the time of day in the past weeks. You all were supposed ot be my friends, but at this point, it seems like the only times I hear from you are in passing moments or when you need information about Klaus. I’m sick of it, and I think you should leave.”

“Y/n..”

“Get out, Elena!”

Elena flinches at my outburst but still nods as she makes her way to my door. Her hand is on the knob when she turns back towards me. 

“Damon told me what he said to you,” My shoulders tense at her words, “He was wrong. You are worth fighting for, and I plan to fight for our friendship and winning back your trust. And I told him this,” She pauses and cringes, “After I punched him in the face for saying that.”

I don’t say anything, which makes Elena frown and then sigh, “Well, the decade dance is tonight and I’ve got to go set up with Caroline. I would ask you to join, but I know how much you hate stuff like that. But… if you do end up coming tonight, save me a dance, ok?”

With those final words, she walks out of my room. 

“And you say Jeremy and I are gay for one another,” I hear my younger brother say as he enters my room.

“Theo screw off.”

—-

“I’m really liking this idea of having supernatural in-laws,” Theo says as he enters the living room of the Mikaelsons.

He walks into the room wearing a 20s-style suit he borrowed from Kol since they’re around the same size. 

“Looked better on me,” Kol, who’s back from stalking Jeremy, mutters from beside me.

Theo lets out a loud laugh as he admires himself in the mirror. 

“Please, as if anyone could pull this off better than I.”

Kol says something in return, and then Theo responds, and their bickering continues on as I stand up and walk out of the living room.

I walk into the entryway, careful not to trip with the pumps I’m currently wearing, courtesy of Rebekah, who is nowhere to be found. 

“Beautiful.”

I turn towards the stairs where Elijah stands in a dark 20s style suit that only makes him even hotter. If possible. 

I brush my fingers over the beaded dark blue flapper dress I'm wearing and shrug, “Rebekah has good taste.”

“Although the dress is nice,” Elijah walks over to me and smiles, “I was talking about the woman wearing it.”

My face heats up at his smooth words, and I roll my eyes, trying to cover it up.

“I don’t want to go to this thing. You’re sister is making me, and yet she’s nowhere to be found.”

Elijah's face contorts into one of slight suspicion, “Yes, that is odd, but my guess is she is already at the dance, preparing finishing touches and yelling at the poor workers.”

Elijah's words settle in me, but I can’t fight the odd sinking feeling I have that tells me something bad is about to happen. 

“Just enjoy tonight, Elskan. I won’t leave your side.”

I sigh and smile at Elijah, “You know you don’t have to go to this thing, right?”

Elijah smirks, “And leave you alone in a room full of hormonal teenage boys looking like this,” His eyes, filled with something dark, travel down my frame, “Never in a thousand years.”

“Oh, Brother, she wouldn’t be alone, she has me,” Klaus’s sarcastic voice comes from around the corner as he enters the room wearing a white suit. Good Lord.

I laugh as Elijah rolls his eyes and turns to his younger brother, “Yes, Niklaus.”

Klaus’s smirk softens as he turns his attention away from his brother and over to me. He doesn’t say anything as he strides towards me, grabs my hand, and presses a soft kiss to it. 

“Breathtaking, Astin Min.” 

“Um, I think not, Dog,” Klaus is quickly pushed away from me by Theo, who has just entered the room with Kol.

“Call me dog again, Child and I-”

“Niklaus, please,” Elijah says tiredly.

Klaus glares at Theo but doesn’t say anything else, making Theo smirk. 

“Knock it off,” I slap Theo in the back of the head, and he screams dramatically.

He quickly runs over to Kol.

“Tell me she didn’t ruin my hair!”

Kol assesses the damage and then fixes one singular hair, “Still looks horrible.”

“I take it back, I hate this family…Except Rebekah. I like her. Why couldn’t you have been mated to her instead of these things,” Theo points a finger at Elijah and Klaus, who both look tired of Theo’s antics. 

“Theo, be nice. They’re the ones who gave you that suit you’re wearing.”

Theo turns his glare at me, “Only because you called them an hour ago asking them to. You know she doesn’t need you two tonight, right? Kol and I are perfectly fine protecting her.” 

“I still can’t believe I’m being made to go to this bloody thing,” Kol mutters to himself.

Klaus takes a step forward, and I place a hand on his chest to stop him, “Enough! All of you. Everyone get your asses in the car, right now.”

No one moves. 

“Fine, then I’ll go by myself. Maybe I’ll see if Matt Donovan wants to dance.”

As soon as I walk to the front door of the mansion, I hear all four of them follow behind me. Idiots.

—-

The most annoying car ride of my life is finally over as we pull into the parking lot of the high school. Dozens of students pile into the school, all wearing different assortments of 20s clothing. 

Where tf is everyone finding these old ass clothes?

Elijah gets out of the driver’s seat and makes his way over to the passenger side door to open it for me.

“Thank you, kind sir,” I smile at him, and he gives me the cutest grin ever. Almost makes you forget he’s literally a serial killer.

“Get me out of here!”

I turn to see Kol, Klaus, and my brother all push past each other to get out of the back seat, where they were all squished in together.  

“God,” Kol stands out of the car and brushes himself off, “I’d rather go back into the coffin than ever ride with you lot again.”

Klaus, who steps out behind him, glares at his little brother, “Arrangements can be made for that to happen.”

Kol just smirks at his brother and then walks over to me and grabs my shoulder, “Can’t dagger me, brother, Y/n said so.”

“I literally didn’t, but ok.”

Kol shoots me a glare, “We had a deal, Little doll.”

I roll my eyes, “Just keep an eye on you know who tonight.”

Kol and I both turn our attentions to Theo as he falls out of the call, landing on his ass.

Kol sighs, “Maybe the dagger would be easier.”

Kol shakes his head and then walks over to my brother, picks him up, and pulls him toward the school’s entrance, “C’mon, Little Nuisance.”

I watch with a small smile as Theo continues to talk Kol’s ear off as they enter the school.

“I don’t like that pairing.”

I look over to Klaus, who narrows his eyes.

Elijah responds, “No one does.”

A cold wind sends chills down my spine, “Well, you two can stand out here, but I’m going in.”

With that, I begin walking towards the entrance. It’s not even a moment later that I feel both brothers grab each of my arms. 

“You guys do realize how many people are going to talk about me entering the dance with two dates, right?”

I see Klaus and Elijah peer at one another, and then Klaus shrugs, “I’ve never been one to shy away from public attention.”

—-

Loud music and bright lights fill my senses as all three of us enter the dance. The gym is decorated with red and white decorations, and the entire floor is covered with people dancing to swing music. 

“How…human.”

Klaus’s remark makes me smirk. 

“You made it!” 

Caroline’s loud voice comes from beside me, and I turn to see her dressed in a beautiful flapper gown. She looks at me for a moment before her attention turns to the men by my side.

“Um…hi,” Caroline says less enthusiastically. 

“They’ve promised to behave,” I speak for both men, “No bloodshed tonight. They’re just here as my dates.”

Caroline seems to ease up with that. 

“Ok cool…in that case, I need to ask a favor,” She reaches a hand out for me to take, and I turn to Elijah and Klaus. Elijah gives me an encouraging smile whilst Klaus looks annoyed. I still grab Caroline’s hand and let her guide me through the crowd of people. 

“What’s going on?”

Caroline brings me to a table full of snacks, “Tyler’s here.”

“Oh.”

I remember bits of Klaus telling me how he was going to kill his hybrid for leaving him, so him being here isn’t the best idea. 

“Is there any way you could ask Klaus to just give us tonight?”

I let out a sigh, “I don’t know if he’ll listen to me, Care.”

Caroline gives me a look, “Seriously Slut! That man would burn everything in his path if it meant you’d never feel cold. You walk all those Mikaelsons like dogs.”

I roll my eyes at her antics, “Fine. I’ll ask.” 

I begin to walk away, but she quickly pulls me into a hug, “Sorry! I know you don’t like touching, but I’m just so happy. And trust me when I say tomorrow you’re going to give me all the dirty details about your trysts with those brothers,” Caroline beams at me, “God, I can’t believe I just said that! My baby is growing up and spreading her legs!”

My mouth drops open in shock, “CAROLINE!”

Caroline just smirks and pushes me towards the crowd. 

What the fuck.

I push through hordes of dancing teenagers as I try to find my guys. 

“SISTER!!!”

A strong grba pulls me from the crowd, and I see Theo smile brightly at me, “Look who’s back!!!”

I turn to look at Jeremy, whom my brother is pointing at, and smile at him, “Nice to see you, Jeremy. Now Theo has someone else to both now.”

“Hey!”

I ignore my brother and watch as Jeremy gives him a soft smile. Kol stands beside them and stares at me with an annoyed look, making me smirk. 

I wink at the Mikaelson and go to say goodbye to my brother, but he’s already talking to Jeremy’s who listens intently. 

I continue on my venture until I see Klaus and Elijah standing with Stefan and Elena. Oh Goody. 

I walk up to them cautiously, and it doesn’t even take a moment before they notice me. 

“Y/n, Hi! I’m so glad you came. You look so pretty,” Elena smiles at me, and I force a smile in return.

“What’s going on?”

“We’re calling for a truce,” Elena says quickly, “For you. I listened to what you said earlier, and even though I don’t like Klaus and never will,” I hear Klaus mutter something under his breath, “I’m willing to live with him if it means you stay safe.”

“And you’re cool with this,” I turn to Klaus, who definitely doesn’t look cool with this.

“He’ll agree with it if it means you’re safe and out of harm's way,” Elijah speaks up for him, “Right, Niklaus?”

Klaus glares at Elena and Stefan for a moment before looking at me, instantly dropping the glare. I give him a hopeful look, and I instantly see his shoulders loosen. 

“I’m up to listening to them.”

Phew, well, that solves things. 

“Well, not that we’re good, I should probably tell you this now. Tyler’s here!”

Klaus’s look instantly shifts into one of pure murderous rage.

I quickly grab his hand before he can go kill someone, though, “Dance with me!”

I pull Klaus behind me, and surprisingly, he doesn’t need much force to pull him onto the dance floor. Once we’re on the dance floor surrounded by people, I freeze. 

“Ya, so…I don’t know how to dance,” I shrug, and Klaus rolls his eyes before grabbing me and pulling me into him. 

He sways me to the soft music, and I watch him as he is clearly in his head right now, planning many murders. 

“Thank you for coming tonight,” I softly say, knowing he can still hear me over the music. 

My voice shakes him from his plotting, and he gives me a soft look, “And let me brother bore you all night long? Never.”

“Elijah isn’t boring,” I chastise, and he gives me a look, “Don’t be mean.”

“The twenties were a vivacious time. Music was loud, liquor was spilling, and people lived freely,” Klaus says as he spins me. 

“Sounds nice, y’know, except the racism, sexism, and homophobia.”

Klaus ponders for a moment before nodding, “Yes, that did make the period much worse.”

“Thank you for letting Alastair come back.”

Klaus’ eyes meet mine, “You’re welcome.”

“Can I ask you a favor?”

“Ask for anything and it’s yours,” His voice comes out strong, and I know he means it.

“Don’t kill Tyler.”

“Anything besides that.”

“Klaus, come on, please! He’s my friend and Caroline’s boyfriend, and technically, you were the one who uprooted his entire life and quite literally killed him.”

“He went against me,” He growls.

“One, don’t growl at me, and two he’s a fucking teenager! He’s going to act out!”

Klaus and I glare at each other until he finally breaks.

“Only on one condition.’’

“What?”

“Kiss me.”

I fight back the grin fighting to break onto my face, “You’d really spare Tyler’s life if it meant I gave you one tiny kiss?”

Klaus smirks, “What can I say? I’m a man with a horrible addiction.”

"And what addiction would that be?"

Klaus smirks down at me, "You."

I shake my head and laugh, “You’re pathetic.”

Klaus’s face shifts, and I realize I must’ve hurt his feelings. I don’t give it a second thought as I lean forward and place my lips onto his. The kiss, unlike our usual ones, is soft and filled with something unspoken.

I pull back and smile at him, “I’m starting to think I like my men pathetic.”

It’s Klaus’s turn to laugh as he throws his head back at my words.

“I fear I’m stepping into an odd conversation,” Elijah says from beside us.

“Then leave,” Klaus remarks, giving his brother a look.

“I was hoping I could steal you for a dance,” Elijah says, looking at me.

I turn towards Klaus, who looks annoyed, and I kiss his face softly, “Get me a drink?”

Klaus rolls his eyes but still makes his way towards the refreshments table. 

“Hmm, maybe Caroline was right.”

Elijah takes my hand in mine and swings me, the music having a faster pace now.

“Right about what, My Love?”

I look at him and shake my head, “Oh, nothing.”

“You wouldn't be hiding something from me, would you,” Elijah smirks as he spins me so my back is pressed to his front and he sways us. 

“And if I were?”

Elijah leans down so our lips are mere millimeters away, “Then I’d have to find a way to get that secret out of you, wouldn’t I?”

I giggle at his words and then let out a louder laugh as he grabs under my arms and swings me on either side of him, my legs flying in the air. 

He sets me back on the ground as I laugh, “Now I’m starting to wonder what you were doing during the 20s.”

Elijah places a chaste kiss on my lips, “If you can have your secrets, My Dear, then so shall I?’’

The song comes to an end after another minute, and Elijah leads me over to Klaus, who is standing with a scowl, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else. He hands me a cup of punch, and I smile at him. 

“Enjoying yourself,” I ask him.

“Not as much as our brothers,” Klaus nods forward, and I look to see Theo, Jeremy, and Kol all dancing off beat to some newer age song. 

“That’s unsettling.”

Klaus and Elijah both hum in agreement. 

“Ugh, Y/n?”

I turn to see Elena approach all three of us cautiously. 

“Hey, Elena.”

Elena seems to be relieved that I’m actually speaking to her, “Could we talk?”

I look towards Klaus and Elijah, who watch Elena skeptically.

“Ya,” I walk towards her and feel both brothers follow me.

“Give us a minute alone,” I say to them, and they both look stressed about the idea of leaving me alone with someone in the Scooby gang, but they still let me go with Elena out to the hallway. 

Elena and I made it to a small bench in the hallway and we watch some students walk by as we sit together in silence. 

“I missed you. I mean… I miss you.”

Elena’s words make me frown, “Continue.”

“I know I shouldn’t have pushed you away, I was…I was just scared I was going to lose you, too. I promise it had nothing to do with Klaus being your soulmate. Yes, I hate the man, but that doesn’t mean I hate you. I could never. Lately, I’ve been so self-centered with the Salvatore brothers and everything that’s going on that I didn’t even think to see how you were doing with everything, and I’m sorry. I wish we could just go back to it just being us and our little book club,” Elena sadly laughs.

I watch a clearly drunk girl be held up by two of her friends as they walk by us, “That feels like another lifetime ago.”

“It doesn’t have to be, though,” I turn to Elena at her words, “I promise from here on out I’ll be a better friend to you. No secrets between us. If I know something, you’ll know it too. I swear…just please give me another chance?”

I’m really just forgiving everyone today, aren’t I? Who am I the fucking Pope?

“Fine…but only on one condition,” I tell her, and she nods her head so fast I think it might shake off, “No more plotting behind my back. I don’t want to break the soul bond, so tell Bonnie to stop looking.”

Elena pauses for a second but then nods her head, “If that's what it takes, then ok, I’ll tell her.”

We sit there for another moment, but I can see Elena practically buzzing with energy.

“So we’re good,” She asks.

“We’re on probation.”

Elena lets out a small squeal and pulls me into a tight hug, “Can we have a sleepover tonight? We have a lot ot talk about?”

“Uh, ya ok. I’m sure Jeremy and Theo will be having a sleepover too since he’s back in town.”

Elena's smile gets bigger, if possible, at the mention of her brother, “Ya, Jeremy was talking about how excited he was to see Theo the entire way bringing him home.”

I groan, “Ugh, tell me about it. As soon as Theo got the call from Jeremy telling him he was coming home, he literally squealed and ran into my room, hopping on my bed like a kid on Christmas morning.”

“If they were anyone else, I’d think they were in love with each other,” Elena jokes, and I laugh.

She laughs.

Then we both stop laughing. 

Wait. 

Oh. 

They couldn’t…

“They’re not…”

“I mean…”

Elena and I both sit in silence and stare forward as we think. 

We both turn back to each other, and I open my mouth and then close it. She does the same. 

“Let’s put this conversation on the back burner,” Elena says as she sees Damon and Stefan approach us.

“Definitely.”

Damon and Stefan approach us, and Stefan gives me a smile, to which I ignore.

“I’ll be leaving now.”

I got to leave, but Elena grabs my hand, “Nope. No things from you. Whatever they want to say to me, they can say in front of you.”

“Fine by me,” Damon says and then turns to me and gives me a small smile, “Hey Pukey.”

“Die in a hole.”

Stefan snorts out a laugh, and Elena clears her throat. 

“What's going on, Stefan?”

—-

So remember when I said I had a feeling something was going to go wrong, and everyone told me to chill out? Ya. Guess who was right?!

So, from what the squirrel eater was saying was basically that Alaric is a serial killer, but it’s not technically him since he’s being possessed by his evil self that he now has because of the ring that brought him back from the dead too many times. And now his evil self is fully in control, and he’s not taking the herbs Bonnie made him to get rid of his evil self. 

Cool.

 “Why don’t we get him off vervain and compel him,” Stefan suggests.

“To do what, pretend to be Alaric? The guy that we know is gone,” Damon says, “We’re talking about someone who not only hates vampires but vampire sympathizers, which makes one of his targets, oh, I don’t know, you two?”

Elena and I eye each other. He’s not wrong. 

“What? You think he’d go after Elena and Y/n?”

“Just another Tuesday,” I say to myself casually. 

“So wait. What are you suggesting we do?”

Damon looks at Elena, “I’m suggesting we put him out of his misery.”

I laugh, “Of course you suggest killing your only friend.”

“What!”

“No way in hell,” A loud voice comes from behind us, and I turn to see Jeremy.

“Oh, come on,” Damon looks at the boy, “It’s what he would want. It’s a mercy killing.”

“You are out of your mind.”

Elena takes a step towards her brother, and he stops her, “Jeremy..”

And the next thing I know, Elena’s dragging me down the hall after her brother. Now that she’s got me back, I’m really starting to doubt she’s going to let me go anytime soon. 

—

“Jeremy, stop!”

Elena and I follow Jeremy outside. 

“This is Alaric we’re talking about. He looked out for us, and we need to do the same for him.”

Elena shakes her head, “No one is going to hurt him.”

Jeremy scoffs and begins walking away. Elena follows him.

“Hey, look at me. I promise.”

“Elena.”

Oh I know that fuckass British voice.

Esther, mind you, a supposed to be dead, Esther stands before us.

“Oh no way in fucking hell. You were dead!”

“I was brought back, hello Y/n.”

“Elena, if you wish to help your friend Alaric, I suggest you come with me.”

“Jeremy, go inside and take Y/n. Go get Stefan and Damon now,” Elena tells her brother.

Jeremy goes to grab me but I shake my head, “Someone needs to stay with Elena and I’m not letting that bitch out of my sight,” I point to Esther who side eyes me, “Go get Elijah and Klaus.”

It might just be me, but I think my vampires would fare better in this fight than Elena’s. 

Jeremy leaves us, and I go to stand next to Elena, who grabs my hand in hers. Old habits die hard, I guess. 

“I mean you no harm,” Esther tells Elena.

I snort, “Funny how she doesn’t say that to me. Wonder why,” I raise an eyebrow at the witch.

“I apologize for my actions in causing you harm, My Dear. I’ve had time on the other side to think over my ways, and I realize now that what I did was wrong. You are nothing but a victim of fate.”

Forget Elijah, I’m going to rip this lying bitch’s head off myself. 

“You will come with me, Elena.”

With that the bitch turns around and starts walking. Elena looks at me and then starts following her. I grab her hand, stopping her.

“What the hell are you thinking?”

“It’s Ric, Y/n. I have to. You stay here, I’ve got this.”

Elena pulls her hand away and follows after Esther. I watch them for a moment before letting out a loud groan and running after them. 

A machete would come in real handy right now. 

—-

“You’ll forgive me for taking you from the dance this evening, ” Esther says as she leads Elena and me through a dark cemetery, “That’s the burden of being the doppleganger, I’m afraid. Your blood is a potent binding agent for a witch’s spell.”

I roll my eyes at her words. 

“Please just don’t hurt Alaric,” Elena begs.

“She’s not hurting me.”

I look forward and see Alaric come out from behind a tree. Very dramatic. 

Elena goes towards him with a smile on her face, but I stop her as I look at the cold glint in Ric’s eyes. 

“What’s going on? What are you doing with him?”

“I’m going to remake him.”

“Excuse me?”

“Make him strong, fast, like my children,” Esther gazes at me as she says that, “Indestructible. For one final time, I’m going to tap into the dark magic I used a thousand years ago. Like my husband Mikael before him, I will make Alaric into a true hunter, the vampire to end all vampires.”

“You can’t create another original. What if he turns out to be a bigger monster than your children?”

“He won’t. Now that he’s embraced his darkest aspect. His hatred for them will become more pure and uncompromising. In death, that hatred will be magnified.”

“You really are a crazy bitch,” I shake my head at her amazed.

“You don’t know anything about him,” Elena tells her.

“That is where you’re wrong. Each time he died with that ring during his brief journey into death, I was there on the other side. I spoke to him. I nurtured him, knowing that every death brought him closer to his true self. Vampires took everything from him. Now he’s getting his vengeance.”

“So you’re basically saying you groomed him? I knew you were evil, Esther, but that has got to be a new low even for you,” I glare at her, and she shakes her head at me. 

“My child-”

“I am not your child,” I growl at her and release harsh breaths through my nose, trying to calm myself.

“You defend my children, but you have only known them for a split second of their millennium. They have lived 10 lifetimes more than I don’t blame you for falling for their charms.”

I let out a sick laugh, “You know nothing about me.”

“I know what the birthmark on your shoulder means.”

My eyes narrow.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Confusion clouds Esther’s eyes for a moment before a look of sorrow comes over her face, “You defend my children, and yet they hide from you who you truly are.”

“Once again, what the hell are you talking about, Esther?”

“That birthmark on your shoulder isn’t just a coincidence, My Dear. No, it has a long history of bloodshed and misery that comes with it. My children know what it means, and yet they haven’t told you.”

“So why don’t you tell me right now,” I challenge her.

“You’re a monster bound to the moon, My Child.” 

—- 

Elena has just stuck a stake through Alaric’s heart, and yet I can’t feel anything. I’ve been staring at the stone wall in front of me for the past 10 minutes since Esther just dropped a bomb on me.

“Monster bound to the moon.”

A wolf. 

Maybe she was lying. Maybe this is some kind of psychological warfare. Maybe she's…

“Y/n, someone's here,” Elena pushes me u,p and I feel myself stand up and follow her, my mind is still buzzing and I’m not really sure what is going on, but I watch as Matt and Jeremy stand before us with bows. 

Esther says something to them, but I’m so out of it that I notice the shift when they both pull their weapons on to one another through Esther’s control. 

“Esther, stop!’”

Elena’s yells are interrupted but a gasp from Esther, and I turn to see Alaric stab her right in the back.

—-

“How many times will we have to deal with our mother’s dead body?”

I look up from my seated position on the dirty ground to see Kol, Elijah, Klaus, Theo, and the Salvatore brothers, all staring down at Esther’s dead body. 

Theo’s eyes meet mine, and he instantly runs over to me and kneels in front of me, “Y/n, are you ok? What happened,” He places his hands on the side of my face, checking me over for injuries, “I swear, if that witch did anything to you, I’ll find a way to bring her back to life just so I can kill her myself. 

Elijah and Klaus both stand behind my brother now, both assessing me.

“Elskan?’”

“Luv, tell us what’s wrong?”

“Did you know?”

Both of them frown in confusion, and Kol joins us.

“Know what, Luv?”

“Did you know what my birthmark means,” I finally look up at them to gauge their reactions, and even though they’ve had a thousand years on me, I can still read them clearly. 

They knew. 

Elijah sighs deeply, “Y/n, I swear-”

“Go.”

“Elskan, please…”

I stand up so fast that Theo almost falls over; thankfully, Kol grabs him and helps him stand up. 

“I said, go, Elijah! I don’t want to see either of you! Grab your deaad mother and leave me the fuck alone,” I snarl in anger at them and Elijah and Klaus both have looks of hurt on their faces. Good. 

Klaus steps forward, but Theo quickly stands in front of him, blocking me from his sight. 

“She said leave, Klaus,” Theo’s words come out strong. 

Jeremy, who was standing next to Elena, comes to stand next to my brother, blocking Elijah from seeing me. 

“You heard the lady, brothers,” Kol steps in between Theo and Klaus, “You grab mommy dearest, and I’ll make sure everyone gets home nice and safe.”

I don’t see them, but I hear a low growl and then footsteps. I peek around Theo and see Klaus pick up Esther’s body, and both brothers leave the graveyard. 

“Thanks,” I choke out, and Theo instantly turns back to me.

He wipes a stray tear from my face and pulls me into a tight hug, “Stop getting kidnapped, please. You’re giving me wrinkles.”

I pull away from Theo and smile at Jeremy, who nods and then walks over to Alaric. 

“Did you know,” I ask Kol.

Kol gives me a look, “Not a clue what birthmark you’re talking about, Doll. But if you want to show me,” He smirks, and Theo punches him in the shoulder.

—-

The next hour consists of everyone saying their goodbyes to Ric, who decided not to complete the transition and to let himself die. Everyone here is filled with sorrow and has tears in their eyes, well… except for Kol. Kol looks clearly uncomfortable at the emotions being thrown around and clearly just wants to go home. 

Jenna exits the tombstone with a sob, and I hold out my arms for her, and she dives into me. I feel her tears coat my shoulder as I shush her. 

“I’ve got you, Jen. I’ve got you.” 

Theo stands next to Jeremy with a hand on his shoulder, Bonnie, Caroline, Tyler, and Matt all stand together, and Elena walks out of the tomb next, and I don’t even have to say anything because she’s already diving into my arms. She and Jenna both cry into my shoulders for another moment before Jenna leans back to look at me.

“Do you want to…”

I don’t say anything but just nod, leaving both women to console one another.

I walk into the tomb to see a ghostly-looking Ric sitting against the wall. He notices me and gives me a painful smile. 

“Hey, Kiddo.”

“Heya, Ric.”

I sit across from him in silence. 

“Are you scared?”

Ric looks at me for a moment, “I’ve already died like a thousand times, what’s one more?”

“I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, Kiddo,” Ric tells me with tear-filled eyes, “You just stay you, alright? Don’t let any of this supernatural stuff ruin you like it did me. You’re too good. You, Theo, Elena, and Jeremy look out for each other, alright? You guys need each other.”

I release a shaking breath, “Will do. And I’m sorry I never turned in my paper on the Industrial Revolution,” I try to joke, but my tears just make it even sadder.

Ric laughs, though, so it was worth it. 

“No problem, Kid. I’m sure it would’ve been brilliant.”

I stand up and give him one last look before walking to the door.

“Y/n?”

I turn around. “It was a pleasure to meet such a bright mind like yours. You will always be my best student.”

I give him a sad smile, “You were a pretty good teacher yourself, Ric.”

—-

Theo, Jenna, and both Gilbert siblings walk in front of me as we enter the Gilbert household. Kol walks beside me, keeping his word on making sure everyone got home safe. 

“Alright, I’m done here.”

I look at Kol and give him a smile, “Thank you, Kol.”

Kol eyes me for a second before shrugging, “Just keeping up with our deal, Doll.”

I give him a look, “Ya…sure.”

He rolls his eyes and runs off without another word. The cold wind brushes through my hair, and my gaze makes its way up towards the star-filled sky. My eyes lock onto the daunting crescent moon in the sky, and a sick feeling washes over me. 

“Y/n?”

I turn towards the front door, where Elena is standing with her hand held out for me, then give one last glance at the moon, and then turn back to my friend.

“I’m coming, Lena.”

[unstablereader]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐨𝐬 𝐁𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐬

𝐓𝐎𝐌 𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃!𝐓𝐎𝐌 𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐄 | 𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 |

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 -Delphini and Mattheo get into a classic sibling fight, throwing punches and insults, while Marvolo threatens to hex them just for fun. Chaos erupts—until Y/N walks in, very pregnant, and instantly calms the storm with just her presence.

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 - Rewatching Succession and was inspired to write this scene watching Shiv and Ronan fight.

𝐃𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐃 - @bernardsbendystraws

The Riddle Manor was many things—grand, mysterious, and magically fortified beyond reason—but peaceful?

Never.

Not with Delphini and Mattheo in the same room for more than five minutes.

"Give it back!" Delphini shrieked, lunging at her older brother with the intensity of a full-grown Hippogriff.

Mattheo laughed as he held her spell journal above his head like a golden snitch, easily dodging her swats. "You left it on my desk! Finders keepers, Delph!"

“That’s not how property works, you troll-brained—” She tackled him, and the two went tumbling onto the velvet carpet in a flurry of limbs, grunts, and absolutely no grace.

Tom sat in his armchair, completely unfazed. He didn’t even look up from the book he was pretending to read.

"They’re at it again," he muttered, flipping a page with excruciating calm.

Across the room, Marvolo stood watching with a cup of tea in hand and a smirk playing at his lips. "Ten galleons says she breaks his nose this time."

"I'm not taking that bet," Tom said dryly.

Delphini let out a victorious growl as she managed to pin Mattheo, who yelped dramatically and flailed. "OW—don’t rip my face off, you psycho!"

Marvolo raised his wand, voice light with warning. "If you two don’t stop, I swear I’m going to hex you both into next week."

Instantly, both siblings froze in place like a scene out of a paused memory.

Mattheo groaned. “Ugh, here comes Dad Junior.”

Delphini snorted. “What are you gonna do, get nagini on us?”

Marvolo didn’t reply.

He just flicked his wand.

His older siblings yelps echoed through the manor as Delphini and Mattheo dodged a flash of silver-blue magic that narrowly missed singeing Delphini’s curls.

"MARVOLO!" they both shouted in unison, diving behind the furniture.

From the hallway came the sound of approaching footsteps—graceful, firm, and somehow still commanding despite the heavily pregnant waddle they accompanied.

“Oh no,” Mattheo muttered, poking his head out. “We woke her.”

Y/N entered the room with a hand on her back, the other resting protectively on her very round stomach. “What is going on in here?”

Delphini and Mattheo sprang to their feet instantly,delphini fixing their hair, Mattheo brushing off dust, trying to look as innocent as can be like they had not just tried to murder each other.

“Hi Mum,” Mattheo said sweetly, while Delphini immediately tried to hug her like she hadn’t just tackled her brother to the floor.

Y/N gave them both a tired look. “You two are grown. Grown! And you’re still wrestling like toddlers.”

“She started it,” Mattheo muttered.

“I’m ending it,” Y/N snapped, narrowing her eyes. “Sit down. All of you.”

Delphini, Mattheo, and even smug little Marvolo obeyed instantly, sitting down like well-trained puppies.

Tom raised an eyebrow, watching with detached amusement as his children scrambled to listen to their mother.

Y/N waddled her way over to the couch beside Tom and dropped down with a long, dramatic sigh, one hand resting on her belly. “I swear, these twins are going to come out just as loud and chaotic as the rest of them.”

Tom leaned back and grumbled, “They never listen to me.”

Y/N patted his knee. “That’s because you’re all doom and gloom. And I offer affection.”

Delphini grinned. “She’s right.”

Mattheo chimed in, “I’d die for Mum.”

Marvolo nodded thoughtfully. “Same. She’s the only reason any of us are tolerable.”

Tom gave them a flat look. “I’m right here.”

Y/N leaned her head on his shoulder, laughing softly. “Face it, love. I’m the favorite.”

Tom let out a long sigh, putting his arm around her belly with exaggerated patience. “Traitors. All of you.”

anawrites-postz ©

all likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated

[unstablereader]

𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐚𝐫 𝐂𝐚𝐧’𝐭 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡

𝐓𝐎𝐌 𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃!𝐓𝐎𝐌 𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐄 | 𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 |

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 -Tom Riddle finds solace in a small Muggle cottage hidden away from the chaos, where he has safely concealed his wife, Y/N, and their young son, Mattheo. After a long day filled with the weight of his responsibilities as a dark wizard, Tom finally returns home to find peace in the arms of his family.

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 - Watched Hamilton.....and thought about this.. why not write a scene where tom comes home in his hidden home away from the war...

𝐃𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐃 - @bernardsbendystraws

The war never stopped.

It stretched its fingers through the darkest corners of the wizarding world — quiet and deadly, rising like smoke from both the camps of Dumbledore and Voldemort. And though magic hung heavy in the air and names were spoken with fear, there was one place the war had not touched.

A small cottage, hidden among the trees of a nameless Muggle village, far removed from Diagon Alley, from the Ministry, from the battlefield.

This was where Tom Riddle had hidden what mattered most.

He apparated just past the boundary line, boots heavy with rain and cloak clinging to his shoulders. The moment he stepped onto the moss-lined path leading to the cottage, the tension in his jaw eased. The wards flickered with silent approval — ancient, undetectable, and cast by his own hand.

Through the mist, candlelight glowed softly in the windows.

It smelled like rosemary and warm bread. Like home.

Inside, laughter bubbled faintly — light and small.

Then—

“Papa!”

A flash of dark curls darted from the other room, tiny feet padding across the floor. Before Tom could lower his wand, his three-year-old son collided with his legs, arms flung tightly around him.

Tom dropped to his knees and wrapped him close.

Mattheo.

His boy. His troublemaker. A child untouched by the horror his father kept buried under the surface.

“You’re late!” the little one announced, poking at Tom’s chest. “Mummy said you’d be back before dinner!”

“She’s always right, isn’t she?” Tom murmured, a ghost of a smile on his lips.

“She said you’re gonna be in trouble,” Mattheo declared proudly.

Tom smirked. “I’m sure she did.”

“Come see her,” Mattheo urged, tugging his father’s hand. “She’s round!”

“She’s pregnant,” Tom corrected gently, chuckling. “That’s what happens when two people love each other very much.”

Mattheo made a face. “Ew.”

Tom laughed again, but it faded quickly as he stood and walked toward the kitchen.

And there she was.

Y/N stood at the stove, barefoot, one hand resting against her lower back and the other gently stirring something fragrant. Her hair was messy, her eyes tired — and she was the most beautiful thing Tom had ever seen.

The world could have burned to ash around him, and it still wouldn’t compare to the way his heart eased at the sight of her.

She turned at the sound of his footsteps, a soft, tired smile blooming on her lips.

“You’re home,” she said, her voice a whisper of disbelief.

He crossed the room in three long strides and pulled her into him.

His arms wound around her, one hand sliding to her swollen belly, the other threading into her hair. She melted into his embrace without a word, as if they’d done this a thousand times and it would never be enough.

“I hate being away from you,” he murmured.

“I know.”

“It’s getting worse. There was a raid—”

“My love, you’re home now. You deserve a break” she said softly, fingers curling into his cloak. “Please, just be here. Just be ours.”

So he did.

He stayed. He let his wand fall to the side table and allowed the mask to slip. He was no longer the general of a rising force. No longer Voldemort’s heir.

Just Tom — a man who helped his son build a pillow fort near the fireplace, who rubbed soft circles over his wife’s aching back while whispering stories to the unborn baby resting just beneath his hand.

That night, after dinner, after bathtime and bedtime and Mattheo’s sleepy mumblings about dragons and chocolate frogs, Tom lay beside Y/N in their bed, his nose pressed to her temple, her hand resting on his chest.

And for a few hours, he forgot there was a war at all.

The storm still raged outside.

But inside the cottage, wrapped in candlelight and soft laughter and a love he never thought he’d deserve —

Tom Riddle finally felt at peace.

Because this was what he fought for.

Not a throne. Not immortality. Not fear.

Her. Their children. A world they could survive in.

anawrites-postz ©

all likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated

[unstablereader]

𝐑𝐮𝐥𝐞 𝐍𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐎𝐧𝐞

𝐓𝐎𝐌 𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃!𝐓𝐎𝐌 𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐄 | 𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 |

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 -Tom gathers the Riddle kids to remind them of the most important rule in their chaotic magical home: always protect their mum.

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 - Thought about this last night and finally had the time write it. Dedicated to my boo @glowingatdawn, who made my day today. Thank you so much for your kind messages.

��𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐃 - @bernardsbendystraws

The Riddle Manor was unusually quiet. Suspiciously quiet. And when a house that normally echoed with sibling bickering and hexes gone wrong suddenly turned peaceful, Tom knew it was the perfect time to gather the children.

Y/N was upstairs, finally getting a well-earned nap—feet swollen, eight months pregnant, and exhausted after another long day of managing a magical household.

Tom stood at the head of the sitting room, arms crossed, as their children—Mattheo lounging upside-down on the armchair, Delphini painting her nails with a charmed brush, and Marvolo flipping through a cursed spellbook he was definitely not supposed to have—looked up at him.

“Right,” Tom said, his tone sharp enough to get their attention. “New house rule.”

Mattheo raised an eyebrow. “What, no more charm battles before breakfast?”

Delphini sighed. “If this is about the fire-breathing toast incident, that was Marvolo.”

“It was not—” Marvolo started.

“Enough,” Tom cut in smoothly, giving his youngest son a knowing look. “This one is more important.”

He straightened, voice lowering in that ominous-but-somehow-gentle tone only Tom Riddle could pull off.

“The number one rule in this house—above all else, above any spell or sibling squabble—is this: protect your mother.”

The kids went still. Even the spellbook Marvolo was holding snapped shut on its own.

Tom’s expression softened just a fraction, his eyes flicking toward the ceiling where Y/N rested.

“She is the reason this family exists. The reason you lot were born. She raised you, loved you, kept this house together when I couldn’t.” He took a breath. “Especially now—she’s carrying two more of you in there. She needs rest. She needs help. And she damn well deserves to be worshipped.”

There was a long pause.

Mattheo blinked. “Bit dramatic, don’t you think?”

Tom glared.

Delphini tilted her head, trying not to smile. “So, what… should we bow when she walks in?”

“I wouldn't stop you,” Tom replied dryly.

Marvolo leaned toward his siblings and whispered, “It’s kind of your fault for having the twins.”

Tom turned his gaze on him.

“…What did you just say?”

Marvolo's eyes widened. “Nothing.”

Tom flicked his wrist, sending a harmless hex that zapped Marvolo's hair bright green.

“Oi!” Marvolo yelped, scrambling to pat it down as his siblings snorted.

Tom clasped his hands behind his back. “Now, repeat it. All of you. What’s the number one rule in this house?”

They sighed, but obeyed, voices in chorus:

“Protect and look after Mum.”

It was perfectly timed, of course, for Y/N to walk in at that exact moment.

She blinked, disoriented from her nap, hair messy, bump very present. “I… what did I just walk into?”

Mattheo burst into laughter. “Your entrance was impeccable, Mum.”

Delphini turned bright red and tried to hide behind her brothers.

Marvolo looked confused. “Why is it a secret? She should definitely know she’s the most important.”

Y/N stared at them all for a moment, her heart full, hand resting on her belly. “You had a whole speech, didn’t you?” she asked Tom, a teasing glint in her eye.

Tom raised an eyebrow, completely unashamed. “I meant every word.”

She crossed her arms, shaking her head with a smirk. “You lot think I’m fragile.”

“No,” Marvolo said instantly. “We think you’re the core of this whole family.”

Tom didn’t even try to hide the smirk he gave his youngest. “Good answer.”

Y/N’s eyes shimmered, but she still rolled them and gave Tom a gentle nudge. “You could’ve just said ‘help your pregnant mother around the house’ like a normal person.”

“And miss the chance for theatrics?” Tom murmured, wrapping an arm around her waist. “Never.”

As the twins inside her kicked, the family gathered around—still chaotic, still bickering, but every single one of them, deep down, knew the same thing:

Their mum wasn’t just the heart of the house.

She was the house.

And Rule Number One would always stand.

anawrites-postz ©

all likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated

[unstablereader]

𝐓𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐁𝐨𝐫𝐧!

𝐓𝐎𝐌 𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃!𝐓𝐎𝐌 𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐄 | 𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 |

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 -Y/N goes into labor with the twins, the entire Riddle family spirals into magical chaos—complete with overprotective older siblings, dramatic entrances, and locked magical doors. Inside the ward, Tom stays fiercely by her side, and together they welcome Silas and Lilith into their chaotic, loving world.

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 - Finally wrote the fic where the twins are born! about time.

𝐃𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐃 - @bernardsbendystraws

The Manor was in chaos.

Not the usual kind—no magical duels between siblings or Marvolo setting something on fire in the library.

No, this was a very specific kind of chaos. The “Y/N’s gone into labor” chaos. And even the walls of Riddle Manor seemed to shudder in anticipation.

“Where the hell is the Portkey?! I enchanted it to take us directly to the ward!” Tom snapped, wand already glowing in his hand as he half-carried, half-led Y/N down the grand staircase.

“I’m fine, Tom,” Y/N huffed between contractions, her grip tightening on his cloak. “I’ve done this three times. You’d think you were the one in labor.”

Tom turned to her sharply, eyes wild. “And this is two babies. That’s double the danger. No one’s ever going to carry my children and not be treated like royalty while doing it.”

“Oh Merlin,” she groaned, as another wave hit. “Tell royalty to hurry the bloody hell up.”

At that moment, Mattheo stormed in, wand out, hair a mess, looking like he had run from his flat. “Is it time?! What do I hex?!”

Delphini appeared right behind him, trying to zip up her boots. “We’re coming too! I’m not missing this!”

“You’re not coming into the delivery ward,” Tom growled, spinning around.

“Try and stop me,” Delphini said flatly.

“I already called the hospital staff,” Marvolo announced coolly, walking in with a stack of blankets and a calming potion in hand. “They’ve set up the magical barriers. We just have to get her there.”

Y/N, through a wave of pain, managed a smile. “See? One of them’s actually helpful.”

Marvolo smirked. “Mum, I’m always helpful. You’re the one who raised the other two.”

“Hey!” Mattheo and Delphini yelled in unison.

The moment the Portkey glowed bright blue, Tom scooped Y/N into his arms like she weighed nothing at all.

“I could walk,” she muttered, though she didn’t fight it.

“You’re not walking another step,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “You’ve done enough.”

They landed in a swirl of light and magic directly into the ward at St. Mungo’s—only to be met by wards thicker than Gringotts vaults. Protective charms glowed around the delivery room like a fortress.

The kids tried everything to get through. Delphini shouted spell after spell, Mattheo tried to bribe a Healer, and Marvolo very calmly tried to decode the charmwork—until the doors held firm, unmoved by desperation or Riddle-level dramatics.

Inside, Tom stayed at Y/N’s side the entire time, never letting go of her hand. He was a mess of tension and devotion, wand at the ready even though there was nothing to fight but time.

“You’re doing so well,” he said, voice low and steady, brushing the hair from her sweat-slicked forehead. “I’ve got you, my love. You’ve got this.”

“I swear,” she panted, “if one more person tells me I’ve ‘got this,’ I’m hexing them into the next century.”

Tom smiled and kissed her temple. “You can hex me later. After. When you’ve had a nap.”

With a final push and a wave of magic that crackled through the room, the twins were born.

Two tiny cries echoed against the stone walls. One high and wailing. The other lower, strong.

“A boy and a girl,” the Healer confirmed gently, placing them in Y/N’s arms.

Tears welled in her eyes as she looked up at Tom, who had frozen—just for a moment—staring at the tiny, perfect chaos they had created.

“You did it,” he whispered, awestruck.

“No,” she breathed, exhausted and glowing. “We did.”

Tom pressed his forehead against hers, hand cradling the back of her neck. “I’ve never been more proud of anything in my life.”

Outside the doors, the chaos hadn’t stopped.

“She screamed,” Mattheo panicked. “That was a death scream.”

“No, that was a baby scream,” Marvolo corrected, rolling his eyes.

Delphini slammed her hand against the enchanted glass. “I swear if they name the babies without us—”

The door finally creaked open.

And there stood Tom, for once—smiling. Really smiling.

“They’re perfect,” he said simply.

The kids rushed in like a stampede—then immediately froze at the sight of Y/N holding the twins. Mattheo and Delphini dropped silent. Marvolo blinked once, then twice.

“Are we allowed to hold them?” Mattheo whispered.

Y/N grinned. “One at a time. And no hexes until they’re at least walking.”

Delphini stared at the girl in her arms. “Her name?”

“Lilith,” Y/N said. “After my sister.”

Mattheo nodded, turning to the baby boy. “And this one?”

Tom glanced at Marvolo, who tried—and failed—to look indifferent.

“Silas,” Y/N said softly. “Chosen by your little brother.”

Marvolo looked down at the baby with a puff of pride. “He’s cool.”

Tom sat beside Y/N again, arm protectively around her, and looked at their chaotic, loud, loyal, ridiculous family.

“I wouldn’t trade this madness for anything,” he murmured.

Y/N smiled, leaning into him.

“Good. Because it’s only going to get worse from here.”

[unstablereader]

𝐈’𝐦 𝐑𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐞

𝐓𝐎𝐌 𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃!𝐓𝐎𝐌 𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐄 | 𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 |

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 -After a quiet admission that he misses his estranged brother, Tom is caught off guard when his young son — who shares his uncle’s name — misunderstands and offers comfort, reminding Tom of the love he still has right in front of him.

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 - Literally inspired by a Tiktok...an obx one where the Kiara says she misses JJ and sarah x john b's son says but im right here because hes named after JJ awww..similar situation so why not write it...

𝐃𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐃 - @bernardsbendystraws

The house was quiet that evening, the kind of stillness that only settled when the world outside had gone to sleep.

The fireplace crackled softly, casting a warm glow over the living room as Tom leaned back on the couch, one arm draped along the backrest, his eyes distant.

Y/N moved around the kitchen with practiced ease, her soft humming the only sound between them until she looked up and noticed the far-off look on his face.

“Long day?” she asked gently, drying her hands on a towel.

Tom nodded, but didn’t say anything for a moment. He looked like he was wrestling with something unspoken, something he’d tucked away for too long.

Finally, he murmured, “I miss him.”

Y/N tilted her head, stepping closer. “Your brother?”

He nodded again, slower this time, the admission heavier. “Mattheo.”

It was quiet. He didn’t elaborate, and she didn’t push. The name hung in the air like a ghost, one rarely spoken but always there — between them, behind Tom’s eyes, in the ache he never voiced.

But before Y/N could speak, a soft patter of footsteps interrupted them.

Their son, little Mattheo, appeared in the hallway, clutching a blanket and blinking sleepily. His curls were mussed from tossing in bed, his voice small and curious.

“What do you mean, Daddy?” he asked, coming over. “I’m right here.”

Tom’s eyes widened, momentarily caught off guard. He hadn’t realized Mattheo had woken — or had been listening.

The boy padded closer, standing in front of him now. “Why do you miss me? I didn’t go anywhere.”

Tom’s lips parted, emotion tightening his throat. “No, you didn’t,” he said softly, his voice gentler than usual. “You didn’t go anywhere.”

Still frowning, Mattheo climbed onto the couch and into his father’s lap, his small hands pressing against Tom’s chest. “I don’t get it,” he whispered. “Why are you sad?”

Tom wrapped his arms around his son, holding him close, and rested his chin gently against the boy’s messy curls.

“I’m not sad,” he said quietly, more to himself than to Mattheo. “I’m just… thinking.”

Mattheo settled into him, letting out a tiny, satisfied sigh. “Well, you don’t have to miss me,” he mumbled, already starting to drift again. “I’m right here. I’ll always be right here.”

Tom closed his eyes for a second, letting the weight of those words press into his heart. Y/N watched from the archway, her eyes soft as she leaned against the wall, saying nothing — just witnessing the rare and quiet unraveling of the man she loved.

When Tom finally looked up, his gaze met hers. And though he didn’t say it, she could see it in his eyes:

He was trying. Even if he didn’t always know how.

And in that moment — with their son curled in his lap and the name Mattheo spoken aloud not with grief, but with love — maybe that was enough.

[unstablereader]

𝐁𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐕𝐨𝐰𝐬

𝐓𝐎𝐌 𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃!𝐓𝐎𝐌 𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐄 | 𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 |

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 -Y/N thinks Tom’s obsession is just another of his dramatic declarations—until a seemingly innocent piece of parchment in the library turns into a binding magical vow. She laughs… until she doesn’t.

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 - Inspired by a scene I saw on tiktok, the book I think is Bad Little Bride by Meagan Brandy

𝐃𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐃 - @bernardsbendystraws

The library was quiet, filled only with the scratch of quills and the distant rustle of parchment.

Y/N sat at a table near the back, half-bored as she skimmed through a textbook, occasionally glancing at the clock and wondering how much longer Harry would be in Quidditch practice. She sighed, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, before feeling someone slide into the seat across from her.

She didn’t need to look up. She already knew who it was. “Tom,” she muttered flatly, not bothering to lift her gaze. “Still lurking?”

“Not lurking,” he said smoothly. “Waiting. Big difference.”

That made her glance up. His dark eyes glinted with something unreadable. Dangerous. Familiar. Obsessive.

“I told you,” he began, voice low and rich like a promise and a threat, “this thing with Potter—it’s temporary. You and I... we’re meant to be.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “You’ve told me that six times this week alone.”

He smiled. Not the kind that invited warmth. The kind that made your spine straighten.

“Seven, actually.” Then he pulled a folded slip of parchment from his coat and slid it across the table toward her. “Read that for me, would you?”

Suspicious, she picked it up and unfolded it. Her eyes scanned the elegant script as she innocently read it out loud.

“I take this man to be my husband, promising to honour and obey him until the end of time.”

She blinked. “Really, Tom?”

But when she put the parchment down, her amusement faded. He was still watching her—intently. Possessively. Like she was already his.

That’s when she noticed it: the barely restrained smirk curving his mouth. The triumph in his eyes. Her stomach dropped.

“What is—”

“I take this woman to be my wife,” he recited smoothly, eyes not leaving hers, “promising to honour and care for her until the end of time.”

Her jaw slackened. “Tom, wh—”

“Enzo?” Tom turned his head without breaking his eye contact with her.

Enzo grinned from the next table. “Yep. That’ll do.”

“Mattheo?” Tom called casually.

Mattheo gave a lazy thumbs-up, smirking. “It’s official.”

Tom leaned back, resting an elbow on the table, pleased beyond measure. “Congratulations, Mrs. Riddle.”

Y/N stood so fast her chair nearly tipped.

“What did you just say?!”

He mirrored her movement, rising smoothly and placing his hands on the table, caging her in with presence alone.

“That was your declaration of consent, by the way, love,” he said, his voice low and deliberate.

She froze.

“You read your vows aloud. I read mine. Two witnesses,” he tilted his head toward his grinning brothers, “and your full name was magically written on the parchment when you touched it. All legally binding.”

Her heart thundered in her chest. “You’re insane.”

Tom smiled wider. “Possibly. But now I’m your husband.”

“I didn’t mean to marry you—!”

He leaned in, voice soft but cold with promise. “Intent doesn’t matter. Magic listens to vows and blood. And I always get what I want.”

She took a step back, but he followed, slow, deliberate. He didn’t touch her, but the air between them was crackling.

“By this time tomorrow,” Tom said, his tone near reverent, “Harry Potter will be nothing but a mistake you vaguely remember.”

His hand ghosted near hers, fingers brushing the edge of her sleeve.

“And I’ll be your future.”

Her lips parted in shock, but before she could form a reply, he leaned in, whispering in her ear with a smirk she could feel—

“Goodbye for now, wife.”

And just like that, he walked away, his brothers flanking him like shadows, leaving Y/N staring after him, heart pounding, hands trembling, and mind spinning with one undeniable truth:

She’d underestimated just how obsessed Tom Riddle really was.

anawrites-postz ©

all likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated

[unstablereader]

𝐁𝐢𝐠 𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐁𝐥𝐮𝐞𝐬

𝐓𝐎𝐌 𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃!𝐓𝐎𝐌 𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐄 | 𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 |

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 -Marvolo struggles with not being the youngest anymore—until his mum lets him pick the baby's name.

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 - Accidently queued this for tonight, was ment to post this yesturday...

𝐃𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐃 - @bernardsbendystraws

The late afternoon sun poured in through the tall windows of the sitting room, casting golden streaks of light over the carpet and across the quiet scene on the couch.

Y/N lay curled in a nest of pillows, one hand resting gently over her very pregnant belly, the other flipping idly through a baby book. The house was unusually still—for once, the older kids weren’t shouting spells at each other or hexing things that shouldn't be hexed.

That’s when she noticed him.

Marvolo stood in the doorway, arms crossed tightly over his small chest, brows furrowed, and that famous Riddle glare on full display. But he wasn’t glaring at her—he was glaring at her bump.

Y/N tried not to smile.

“Something you want to say, love?” she asked gently, patting the spot next to her.

Marvolo hesitated, clearly debating between sulking or surrendering to comfort. Eventually, he padded over with all the drama of a tragic prince and plopped down beside her with a sigh.

“I don’t want to be a big brother,” he muttered, eyes still narrowed at her belly.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, gently tucking a strand of his dark hair behind his ear. “You were saying the same thing about the garden gnome last week, and I swear I saw you tear up when it vanished.”

“He was a good gnome,” Marvolo muttered, his voice turning defensive before he sighed, dropping his gaze to her belly.

“But-this is different..Everyone’s so excited. Even Matt brought games for the babies and Delphi is already picking out matching outfits. But no one asked me.”

Y/N pulled him closer, wrapping an arm around his small shoulders.

“Well, I’m asking you now. What’s bothering you, little star?”

He didn’t answer right away. He just leaned into her, face pressed against her shoulder.

“I’m scared you’ll forget about me,” he said finally, voice so soft she almost missed it. “When the babies come… I won’t be the youngest anymore. What if you and Dad stop loving me as much?”

Y/N’s heart clenched. She held him tighter, kissing the top of his head.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she whispered. “Do you know what happens when we have more babies?”

He looked up at her, eyes suspicious. “What?”

“We grow more love. We don’t split it—we stretch it. Like magic. Like... when you add another room to a tent with an Undetectable Extension Charm. There’s always more space.”

He blinked, considering that.

“You’re my light,” she said, cupping his cheek. "My brave, brilliant boy—so full of fire and magic. You’ve made me proud, and better just by being mine. Nothing could ever change how much I love you my love. Not time, not distance… not even two new babies. You’ll always have me. Always."

Marvolo’s tough expression faltered, his shoulders softening as he blinked up at her. For a moment, he didn’t say anything, just leaned a little closer like he was letting her words sink in. Then, quietly, he mumbled, “Okay… but only if I get to name one of them.”

His voice was barely above a whisper, but there was hope in it—hope and the tiniest flicker of excitement breaking through his sulk.

Y/N perked up. “Deal. You pick the boy’s name.”

His eyes lit up.

“Really?”

“Really. So long as it’s not something like... Pickle or Dragonface.”

He leapt off the couch immediately. “I’ll be right back!”

She laughed as he dashed from the room like a whirlwind, socks slipping on the floor as he sprinted down the hall.

Moments later, he returned—arms full of a thick library book on ancient magical names. He flopped down beside her, flipping pages frantically until he pointed with pride.

“Silas,” he announced. “It means ‘forest’ or ‘wood,’ and I like it. It sounds cool. And serious.”

Y/N read the name slowly, nodding. “Silas... I love it.”

He beamed, eyes wide with pride.

“You did good, baby,” she said, kissing his cheek. “Silas it is.”

Marvolo climbed into her lap, careful of her belly, and laid his head against her chest.

“Okay,” he whispered. “I guess being a big brother might not be the worst thing ever.”

She smiled, stroking his hair as he curled into her—no longer glaring at her bump, but giving it a small, tentative pat.

“Hi, Silas,” he said softly. “I’m your big brother. And I already picked your name. So you better be cool.”

Y/N laughed, her heart full.

From the hallway, Tom’s voice floated through.

“Did he just threaten the unborn child?”

“Just a little bit!” Y/N called back cheerfully.

And in that warm, sunlit room, the future felt just a little bit brighter.

anawrites-postz ©

all likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated

[unstablereader]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐍𝐞𝐰𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐑𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐬

𝐓𝐎𝐌 𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃!𝐓𝐎𝐌 𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐄 | 𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 |

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 -Mattheo, Delphini, and Marvolo finally get to hold the newborn twins, and while everyone fights over their favourite, Tom makes sure Y/N is comfortable. Pure chaos, lots of love.

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 - Had writers block for the longest time then thought write a simple scene with the the older kids holding the twins and boom this came to be..

𝐃𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐃 - @bernardsbendystraws

The soft cooing of newborns filled the quiet room, a rare moment of peace in the usually lively Riddle Manor.

Y/N rested comfortably on the large bed, twin babies nestled at her sides—Lilith, sleepy and serene, and Silas, already showing signs of being more dramatic than all his siblings combined.

Tom stood beside her, ever watchful, adjusting pillows behind her back. “Do you need anything? Water? Tea? A calming draught? I can hex someone if that helps.”

Y/N chuckled, brushing her fingers through her hair. “Unless you can hex my spine into a spa treatment, I think I’m good.”

Just then, the door burst open—Mattheo, Delphini, and Marvolo all rushing in like a mini stampede.

“We’re here!” Mattheo declared proudly, arms wide as if he had just saved the world on the way in.

Delphini made a beeline for the bed, immediately reaching for Lilith. “I call her,” she said triumphantly, scooping the baby up like she’d won a prize. “She’s got my hair. Obviously, she likes me more.”

“She’s a day old, Del,” Marvolo muttered, standing back with crossed arms, staring at the twins like they might explode. “She doesn’t even know who you are.”

Delphini ignored him completely, rocking Lilith gently and whispering nonsense to her with absolute devotion.

Meanwhile, Mattheo walked over to Tom and Y/N with a grin. “May I?”

Tom nodded, carefully passing Silas to him. “Support his head.”

“I know, Dad. It’s not my first time,” Mattheo said confidently, settling Silas into his arms with surprising ease. “Look at this little guy. Strong grip. Definitely a future duelist.”

Y/N raised a brow. “He sneezed and cried today. That’s all he’s done.”

“Exactly,” Mattheo said, as if proving his point.

Marvolo hovered at the edge of the bed, eyes darting between his siblings and the babies. “You guys are acting like it’s easy,” he mumbled. “Mattheo’s cheating. He’s had practice.”

Mattheo grinned without looking up. “Last baby I held was you, little man.”

Marvolo groaned. “Exactly. And I turned out weird.”

Tom rolled his eyes from beside Y/N. “That’s not from being held. That’s just… genetics.”

“Excuse me?” Y/N laughed, nudging him playfully with her elbow.

Marvolo gave an exasperated sigh and finally stepped forward, hesitantly reaching toward Silas. “Okay, I’ll try, but if he cries or explodes or something—”

“He won’t explode,” Mattheo said, adjusting the baby so Marvolo could hold him. “He’s not a cursed crystal.”

“Easy for you to say. He likes you,” Marvolo muttered, but his arms slowly circled his baby brother, holding him with the cautious grace of someone handling a fragile spellbook.

Silas gave a soft sigh and promptly drooled on Marvolo’s sleeve.

“He marked you,” Delphini teased. “You’re officially a big brother now.”

“Gross,” Marvolo whispered, but there was a small smile tugging at his lips as he carefully rocked Silas. “Okay. He’s kinda cute.”

From the bed, Tom glanced back at Y/N, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. “Well,” he said dryly, “they haven’t set the room on fire yet. That’s progress.”

Y/N smiled softly, watching her children—all of them—hovering around the newest additions like an overly dramatic, magical honor guard.

“No fire, no hexes,” she murmured. “I’m proud.”

Tom pressed a kiss to her temple. “We did good, love.”

And as the kids bickered over who the babies liked more, who’d be the better godparent, and whether or not Silas already had a favorite sibling, Y/N rested back against Tom with a tired but content smile.

Her family was loud, chaotic, full of sarcasm and spells... but perfect in its own way.

[unstablereader]

𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲, 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐌𝐮𝐦

𝐓𝐎𝐌 𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃!𝐓𝐎𝐌 𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐄 | 𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 |

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 -The Riddle kids discover baby Silas doesn’t have the infamous family curls—causing teasing, chaos, and an unexpectedly sweet moment between Tom and Y/N when they realize Silas inherited his mother’s hair.

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 - For the longest time, I thought Timothée Chalamet had wavy hair in Little Women—turns out I was wrong 😭 I was originally inspired by a photo where I swore it looked wavy, but now I realize… it’s definitely curly lol. That said, I’ve been intentionally avoiding describing the exact texture of Y/N and Silas’ hair in the fic to keep it inclusive, since it’s a self-insert 💛 So no matter what you imagine them looking like, it still fits!

𝐃𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐃 - @bernardsbendystraws

The sun was pouring into the sitting room again, casting that warm honey-colored light over the chaos that had somehow settled into a comfortable rhythm.

Y/N sat curled on the oversized couch, one twin in each arm—Silas snoozing on her chest, and Lilith gently rocking in the crook of her arm, swaddled like royalty.

Tom sat beside her, dangerously close and looking far too smug for someone who'd only been holding babies ten minutes at a time.

Mattheo lounged nearby, pretending to read but watching like a hawk.

Delphini had completely claimed Lilith—again—now sitting cross-legged at Y/N’s feet, humming softly as she gently combed through her baby sister’s dark curls with her fingers.

“She has my hair,” Delphini whispered proudly, brushing a kiss against Lilith’s forehead. “Finally, someone in this house with taste.”

Y/N grinned. “You say that like we didn’t birth four chaos gremlins before her.”

“That was your choice,” Delphini replied sweetly.

Meanwhile, Marvolo had leaned in close—suspiciously close—to Silas, squinting at his head like he was inspecting a potion under a microscope. He practically pressed his nose into his baby brother’s hair.

“Wait a second...” Marvolo narrowed his eyes. “He doesn’t have the Riddle curls.”

Y/N blinked. “What?”

Marvolo pointed dramatically. “Look at it! It’s not curly. Not like mine, or Mattheo’s, or even Dad’s.”

Mattheo didn’t even look up. “Don’t start.”

“I’m just saying,” Marvolo said with a mischievous grin. “Maybe Silas has a different father.”

There was a pause.

Then Mattheo reached across the couch and shoved him—not hard, but hard enough to knock Marvolo off balance.

“I was joking!” Marvolo cackled, half-falling onto a pillow.

Tom, who hadn’t said a word, leaned in close to Y/N. He was smiling in that quiet, satisfied way that made her heart flutter. His fingers brushed Silas’s soft hair as he looked at her.

“He has your hair,” he said, barely louder than a breath. “After five kids... one finally has your hair.”

Y/N blinked, surprised by the sudden tenderness in his voice. She looked down at Silas, whose soft, hair flopped gently over his forehead.

She hadn’t noticed it before—not really. But it was true.

It was her hair.

She smiled, just as Tom leaned in and pressed a kiss to her temple, then her cheek, then her lips.

“You’re ridiculous,” she murmured.

“I’m sentimental,” he corrected.

“And dramatic,” she added, though she didn’t stop smiling.

“Must be where the kids get it from,” he teased.

“I heard that,” Delphini called without looking up, still doting over Lilith like she was made of glass and stardust.

Marvolo, now upright again, leaned forward to squint at Silas one more time. “I mean... I guess it’s kind of nice. It suits him.”

“You’re not allowed to comment anymore,” Mattheo deadpanned.

“I’m the funny one,” Marvolo shrugged.

“You’re the reason we have rules in this house,” Y/N muttered with a mock sigh, gently rubbing Silas’s back.

“And the reason we need locks on the potions cupboard,” Tom added dryly.

Silas shifted in her arms, a tiny yawn escaping his lips as he burrowed into her chest, safe and warm and loved.

The house was full. Of noise, of teasing, of love. And Y/N wouldn’t change a thing.

“Don’t worry, little hex,” she whispered to Silas, brushing a kiss to his forehead. “We saved the best hair for last.”

Mattheo snorted. “You’re gonna start a hair war.”

“Too late,” Delphini sang.

And Tom?

He just kissed his wife again—because after five chaotic, clever, beautiful kids, she was still his favourite kind of magic.