Zeke In Snk 136 Be Like:

Zeke in snk 136 be like:

It Just Happened (Tom Riddle Jr/Voldemort Imagine)

(A/N: Request for Tom Riddle angst! Female reader!)

You couldn’t remember how it started, just that you suddenly saw him one day - it just happened. You’d always found Tom Riddle to be handsome and like every other girl at Hogwarts you’d steal glances at him from the corner of your eye, but that meant little to you - he was just pleasing to look at.

Speaking to the boy was about as interesting as speaking to a windowpane. He was utterly dull and you’d find yourself making excuses to leave as soon as you couldn’t bare to pretend to be interested in the conversation anymore. Long story short, Tom Riddle was boring.

You hated boring.

But then one morning you woke up, dressed yourself, chatted with your roommates on the way to the Great Hall, taking your usual spot next to your closest friends, halfway up the table - and then it happened.

“Y/N, you’ll never guess who’s looking at you right now.” Your girlfriends huddled together and leaned forward, whispering to you, their eyes darting from you to something behind you.

Turning your head in the direction of their shared gaze, your eyes met with the most beautiful brown orbs you’d ever seen. Shaped by thick, long lashes that fluttered lightly as his stare intensified, you felt a painful burst of adoration for him explode within you.

“Tom Riddle is looking at you, Y/N!” You couldn’t look away, you couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t blink, you could only stare back at the handsome Slytherin who had somehow after years of going unthought of captured you entirely. The rest of the morning your heart furiously pounded in your chest, refusing to calm as you came to your only shared class with the Slytherin - or lack thereof. A free period that you knew he used to study in the library, a place you rarely went to.

Breaths coming out in short pants, you felt sweat begin to form on your brow and lower back and hoped it wasn’t prominent. You were almost sprinting through corridors, up stairs and past paintings that scolded you for running inside. You didn’t care, all that was on your mind was finding Tom Riddle. His face was the only thing you could see and his name was the only thing you could hear.

Tom Riddle, Tom Riddle, Tom Marvolo Riddle, Tom, Tom, Tom.

“Tom!” You shouted as you burst into the library, eyes darting about as you rushed past book sections, frantically searching for the boy.

Practically sobbing, your heart threw itself around violently from beneath your rib cage and as you entered the far end of the library, there he was. Sitting with one leg folded over the other in his wooden desk chair, his eyes scanned over the pages of the book he held in his long, slender fingers.

What you did next was so unlike you, something your friends and family would absolutely not believe. You rushed to Tom, his name on your lips and your arms outstretched. Hands spread and gliding over his shoulders and gripping at the expanse of his broad chest. Your hands roamed all over Tom’s chest and stomach before coming up to cup his cheeks, pulling him into a desperate kiss you’d never needed before this day. As if expecting it, Riddle hummed approvingly into your mouth, book falling to the floor as his fingers wrapped around your wrists, thumbs brushing against the fabric of your robes.

“Tom,” you whimpered and the brunette chuckled, pulling away from you and watching your face carefully. “What’s gotten into you, Y/N? You’ve never been all too interested in me before.”

He was right, there was absolutely nothing natural about your sudden recognition of the boy you’d never cared for in your six years of knowing him - or knowing of him. “Of course I have!” You lied, hands shaking violently as tears welled in your eyes, you couldn’t control yourself.

“Please Tom, please,” you begged, tilting your head to kiss him again. Tom didn’t protest but he didn’t respond either and this made you panic. “I think I love you.”

Your lips trailed from his to his jawline where you whispered against his flesh. “I love you, Tom.” To your surprise, you felt the mysterious boy’s head tilt and you blushed wildly as a soft sigh left him. Pride swelled within you and you sucked dark blotches into his neck, knees quaking anxiously as you hovered above him.

“Do you love me, Y/N? Truly?” Tom asked softly and you unlatched yourself from him to meet his eyes, stroking his hair affectionately. “So, so much.” After your declaration of love to the Slytherin, you were rarely seen apart.

Hand-in-hand, the two of you went everywhere together and you even began spending time with his group of friends. You were so intent on pleasing him that you hardly noticed that you were spending less and less time with your own, not noticing their mourning of you.

“Y/N,” Tom called softly, fingertips tracing against the rosy flesh of your cheek, “I’ll return to you soon.” Crying softly, you threw yourself into your husband’s embrace. His long arms wrapped around you and his fingers ran though your hair.

“Will you long for me, dear?” You nodded furiously, sniffing as you sobbed into his vest. “Of course, my love. I long for you always.”

Tilting your head with his hand, Tom kissed you passionately and your fingers tangled into his thick waves. You continued to cry as you kissed him, lips pressing desperately into his. Your crying only ceased when you felt large hands slide up your blouse and over your swollen belly, fingers barely grazing your protruding belly button.

“I’ll definitely be here for our child,” he promised, “I simply cannot wait to meet him.” You scoffed, “It’ll be a girl.” Tom let out a low chuckle at your constant debate on your baby’s gender, he said boy, you said girl and it was a constant but playful battle. Hesitantly releasing you into the protection of the followers he’d accumulated since graduation, your husband Apparated from your sight, leaving you and your unborn baby alone in the old manor he’d claimed for himself after the murder of his muggle father and grandparents.

Weeks passed without word of Tom’s whereabouts in Albania and just as you were about to go in search for him despite his followers’ specific instructions to keep you within the manor, he returned. Face pale and eyes sunken in, Tom returned to you safely but somehow different and it troubled you deeply.

Standing in one of the many kitchens, preparing yourself a meal that would revolt anyone else, but your pregnant self demanded, you argued aggressively with the man who’s arms were lazily draped around you. “I feel fine, dear,” Tom said, “better than I’ve felt in years.”

“I know when you lie, Riddle. Don’t you know how worried I am about you? This quest of yours is getting out of hand,” you cut aggressively into your hideous sandwich and continued your rant on deaf ears. “You forget that we’re married, lovely.” The brunette teased and you scoffed, “What of it?”

Tom nuzzled into your neck and breathed in your scent, sighing deeply and squeezing you closer and you let out a low groan. “You’re so manipulati - ” Your handsome lover raised a brow at your unfinished sentence but only became alert when the dish you’d been holding slipped from your shaking hands and his eyes fell to the ground.

A puddle surrounded your shaking form and Tom wrapped himself around you, Apparating to an upstairs bedroom and carrying you to your shared bed. You shivered wordlessly there and didn’t protest when several others appeared into the room, men and women. The next eight hours were the most painful you’d ever experienced and no amount of magic could dull your agony.

You screamed, cried and begged for it to stop until your voice gave and even Tom’s usually calm demeanor was shaken. His hands cupped yours and you squeezed, screaming as you were commanded to push over and over and over.

You felt as if your body was about to break or split and despite all the tears flooding your eyes and the sweat running down your face, with one final heave you caught a glimpse of a writhing pair of legs. Head falling back, your eyes fluttered closed and the sound of a crying babe lulled you to sleep. You did it, you’d had your baby.

“Mother,” a soft voice called, “mother, I’m hungry.” You moaned softly, rubbing your lids roughly as you stirred in Tom’s arms.

Reaching out and pulling back the covers, you wriggles from your fleshy cage and slipped on your gown and slippers, smiling as your son’s hand slipped into yours. “What would you like, darling?”

Looking down at your five year old, you noted just how much he looked like his father. Dark brown hair framed his pale face and you felt your heart flutter every time those familiar brown eyes looked up at you. He was utterly gorgeous, just like his father - his father who was looking less and less like himself every day. You spent most of your time tending to your son and in return he was a well behaved, obedient boy.

And then one day, just as abruptly it had come, your love and devotion to your husband, the father of your beautiful baby boy, was gone. You packed your suitcase in the dead of night, gathering as many of your belongings as you could before waking your son, promising him you were going to take him somewhere wonderful. He gleefully accepted and you held him close, wand at the ready. You pulled off the dark ring Tom had given to you as your engagement ring and placed it on the bedside table.

You Apparated away. Far, far away in search for your long forgotten family with your son at your side, the feeling of being absolutely free and your own overwhelming you. You weren’t sure what happened, why you woke in a panic and the need to escape took over, but you knew it was right. Somehow you knew it was meant to be this way despite not knowing why.

It just happened.

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matyaa-02

4 years ago