Tom Riddle Fanfiction - Tumblr Posts

His Obsession | T.R

Pairing: Slytherin Fem Reader X Tom Riddle

WC: 8.4k

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

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

You are an obsession (you are an obsession)

I cannot sleep (I cannot sleep)

I am a possession (I am your possession)

Unopened at your feet

There's no balance (there is no balance)

No equality (no equality)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Someone was here.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I will have you, yes, I will have you

I will find a way, and I will have you

Like a butterfly, a wild butterfly

I will collect you and capture you

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were beautiful.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You are an obsession, you're my obsession

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

You are an obsession, you're my obsession

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Someone." She mumbles.

"Mary-Ellen." You warn sharply.

"It's Samuel." She mumbles.

"And what is Samuel doing?" You question.

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

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

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

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

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

"What are you talking about?" He lies.

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

"I just wanted her attention." He mumbles.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

My Obsession,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Go." Katherine urges excitedly.

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

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

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

I feed you, I drink you by day and night

I need you, I need you by sun and candlelight

You protest, you want to be

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

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

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

You could feel him again.

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

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

My Obsession,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your face appears again, I see the future there

But I see danger, stranger beware

Of circumstances in your naked dreams

Your affection is not what it seems

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

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

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

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

"Tom." You breathe softly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Y-Yes." You whisper.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You are an obsession, you're my obsession

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

You are an obsession, your my obsession

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And all my goodness (and all my goodness)

Has turned to badness (has turned to badness)

My need to possess you had consumed my soul

My life is trembling, I have no control

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

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

"F-Full." You stutter out.

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

"V-Virgin." You whisper.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Tom, I need more." You breathe.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I will have you, yes, I will have you

I will find a way, and I will have you

Like a butterfly, a wild butterfly

I will collect you and capture you

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Darling?" He asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You are an obsession, you're my obsession

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

You are an obsession, you're my obsession

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Does it hurt?" He asks.

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

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

"He's quite strong." Tom murmurs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I'll start behaving." You mumble.

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

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

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

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

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

"Tom." You murmur.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You are an obsession, you're my obsession

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

You are an obsession, you're my obsession

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

You are an obsession

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

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

"Yes. Perfect." He murmurs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I love you, Mattheo." He murmurs.

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

"I love you." You murmur.

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

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

"I love you, Tom." He murmurs.

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

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

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

You are an obsession, you're my obsession

T.R. || The girl who came from hell

Summary:Tom really thought he was above you, but that ends when you realize that you need to put him in his place. Warnings: Just a little toxic relationship.

Requests are open!

Tom's interest in you began in the fifth year at Hogwarts. You were almost like a reflection of him: Slytherin, studious and astute, determined to achieve her goals. The difference between you, however, was in the fact that you had the inheritance that mattered: your last name, power, contacts and money, all coming from your family without any effort.

The approach began during a task of Potions. Since then, they have started to walk together and share their plans. Tom, of course, knew that approaching you was advantageous for his ambitions, initially motivated by pure interest. Over time, the interests of both also became carnal, and soon you were a couple. But make no mistake, you were not naive, maybe you knew Tom better than anyone at Hogwarts and understood the meaning of all that, but you wouldn't mind as long as you had control over it.

His father, however, hated this union at the beginning. Tom didn't have the pure blood so valued by his family, he didn't have the money or an influential family. However, Tom's charm, combined with his ability to persuade, ended up changing the man's opinion. This gave Riddle a renewed confidence, leading him to be possessive with you, in an attempt to ensure that only he could enjoy the prestige and power that his relationship provided.

However, the fact that they are similar in everything, including this, was what made them get closer and fall in love, in the most toxic sense of the word. You thought he saw you as an equal, who respected you in the same way, but you were wrong, and came to discover it in a disgusting way.

You began to notice the way some girls looked at Riddle, and he, being a man, could barely disguise his interactions in his eyes even more attentive, who saw every look given by him to the body of another, every disappearance during the day. It wasn't frequent, but it was remarkable. And today, you expected to put him in his place finally, already possessed with the way you heard a girl bragging about him in the bathroom.

For you, it was fun to provoke him from time to time, flirt with another boy and make him angry with anger. But never, ever, have they gone from silly flirts. You believed that they should be loyal to each other, after all, they had much bigger plans and if they couldn't trust each other, none of that would make sense. Tom, on the other hand, thought he used you, that he had you in the palm of his hand. You were beautiful, and your family definitely helped you in many ways, but he never really took you seriously. Tom needed to think like that, he needed it because that way he would be someone.

And then, in that fateful afternoon, when, when passing through one of the empty classrooms looking for him, you saw, through the small slit of the door, the image of an ordinary student kneeling in front of Riddle, who in turn had her belt and pants open.

His eyes were not filled with tears, but with a deep hatred that was born there. You liked the possessiveness and it was definitely not like that with him, a strange and somewhat sickly relationship that you simply liked, it was almost like a cat and mouse hunt. But maybe I had to bring limits to this game now, maybe Tom didn't really know you as you imagined.

Your heels took you to the interior of the classroom, the shoes echoing on the stone floor, scaring the two present. The girl quickly moved away from Tom, who dressed calmly and waved for her to leave.

Tom's face remained neutral, without any blush or expression of regret.

- It's not the first time this has happened, is it? - His face had a sarcastic smile on his face, frighteningly quiet.

- No. - He replied simply, approaching you slowly, with his hands in his pockets. - I thought you didn't mind, honey. Aren't you the one who keeps flirting with other boys? - Tom smiled slightly, provoking a penetrating look coming from you.

- I've never had sex with any of them. - You paused, holding Tom's hand and pulling him out of the room on a slow walk. - But I'm curious, aren't you satisfied with me, Tommy? - A false sadness dyed your words as you stared at him in the hallway when you were stopped by him.

- Of course I am, dear. You shouldn't have seen that. I'm sorry. - Tom rolled his eyes internally, irritated by the amount of questions, but excellent at lying, saying what he thought you would like to hear to finally get rid of his visible and exaggerated drama.

- That's good, love. But spare me your empty excuses, Tommy, I don't like them lying to me. - Your body approached, still holding your boyfriend's hand and with a gentle smile, continuing your speech. - Just be careful that I don't get tired of you. You wouldn't want that.

His false kindness made Tom's face squirm in fury. He hated being threatened and would not accept being challenged in that way, especially coming from someone he believed to have full control.

- Come on, Tom. We know that you need me more than I need you. That's no secret to anyone, love. - You kissed him on the cheek, running your hands around his neck, watching as a spark of hatred appeared in your eyes.

Those who saw it from the outside could swear that you were swearing your love to each other, given the soft touches and false, but extremely convincing smiles, that you directed to him.

- I don't need to... - Tom started, but his voice interrupted him quickly.

- Yes, you need to. After all, what are you without me, Tommy? Nothing... - You digred. - You don't have the blood, you don't have the money, you don't have the power, nothing. You're nothing but me, dear. And it annoys me to have to say that, but I see that you still don't understand.

Tom felt a whirlwind of conflicting emotions within himself. He, who had always been proud of being undisturbed and cold, now found himself trapped in a network of feelings that he could not control. The wounded pride and anger mixed with a new and disconcerting feeling: insecurity. Never before had anyone challenged his authority and exposed his vulnerability in this way.

As his words echoed in his mind, he felt the control over the situation slip through his fingers. The certainty of his superiority seemed to fall apart, replaced by a painful realization of his dependence on you. He needed you more than he was willing to admit, and that consumed him from the inside out.

- Do you really think you can threaten me like this? - He murmured, his voice loaded with a contained poison as he squeezed one of his arms, taking you to the dark side of the hallway. - You think you know me so well, but you have no idea what I'm capable of doing.

- I'm not threatening you, Tommy. I'm just making it clear how much you need me. - Your voice came out with coldness and a still feigned kindness making him even more angry, his eyes fixed on his, challenging him to deny the truth.

Tom felt the anger boil, but at the same time, a part of him recognized the veracity in the words you said. He couldn't stand the idea of being seen as weak, but there, in front of you, his invulnerability mask was about to fall.

- You may be right. - He admitted with great reluctance, his lips contracting in a fine line. - But never forget, Y/N, that I also know how to play this game. And I don't intend to lose.

You smiled, a smile that mixed triumph and compassion.

- I never expected you to lose, love. I just want you to realize that this game is not just yours. And maybe, if you allow yourself, we can play together. - Your body is released from the grip, depositing a kiss on Tom's lips, feeling all the cold and anger that echoed from him. - Just don't forget that. - You add with a serious face, but soon forming a smile.

With these words, you turned around, leaving Tom alone in the hallway, wrapped in his own reflections and conflicts. He knew that, as much as he hated to admit it, you were the only one who could challenge and balance your world. And, deep down, maybe that's exactly what he needed.

Tom stood there for a moment, watching you move away with decisive steps. His gaze followed every movement of his body as he disappeared in the darkness of the corridor. The discussion had left a bitter taste in his mouth, a mixture of resentment and a strange intensity of desire.

He would never admit it out loud, but the way you challenged him, the way you messed with him, aroused something deep inside Tom. It was as if every confrontation, every exchange of words was a spark that lit the fire he tried to keep under control.

As he revived his words in his mind, Tom felt a mixture of frustration and a growing admiration for his cunning. You knew exactly how to press the right buttons, how to put it against the wall and make it question your own strength and control.

A sigh escaped from his lips as he ran his hand through his hair, trying to lighten the tumultuous thoughts. I couldn't deny that there was something magnetic in you, something that attracted and irritated you at the same time. But love, in the traditional sense, seemed like an unknown and unattainable territory for both. Their lives were dominated by ambitious goals, by the incessant search for power and control, which often shocked and drove them away.

Riddle saw the desire grow within him, not only for his body, but also for the sharp mind and the ambitious goals they shared. It was an attraction based on a kind of admiration, in the tacit understanding of each other's ambitions.

With a resigned sigh, Tom began to walk in the opposite direction to his. It was not the time to surrender to physical desire or to get lost in the traps of possessiveness. It was time to find a way that would take you away from the reins you controlled.

Maybe that moment served you in some way, Tom was starting to see her closer to his own pedestal. However, he wouldn't admit any of that out loud and much less mentally. At that moment he had two conflicting feelings: an absurd desire to get you out of the way or simply nestle in your body, a moment when only he had control, even if this control was consented by you.

______________________________________

masterlist here A/N: I hope you enjoyed this new perspective. I wanted to do something different since I always see Tom coming out on top, haha xoxo, bee✨🫶🏼

this idea just came to me rn: reader and tom have been writing secret notes to each other and leaving them around the castle for the other to find and reader finally gets the courage to confess/flirt in a message but for some reason the note never gets to him :( and its kinda angsty bc reader takes his lack of response as a rejection but ends with him finally finding it

A/N: I went feral when I read this so obviously I had to write it ASAP. I changed the premise only slightly, I hope you enjoy!!! And thanks for the super cute idea, I'm really feeling the soft fluff tonight 🥺💖

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

Ink From The Well

Summary: “We sit at the same desk,” he calls after you. When you looked over your shoulder he’s still standing there with a glint in his eyes that makes you suspect that he’s already put two-and-two together. “Though you already knew that,” Tom continues, head tilting back a little as he smiles. [GN reader ★ no pronouns ★ ambiguous house ★ fluff ★ mutual pining]  Wordcount: 3.1k Warnings: none

ℙ𝕖𝕣𝕞𝕒𝕟𝕖𝕟𝕥 𝕋𝕒𝕘𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥

𝔸 - 𝕄 @abhorredlara @anevrismes @arana-alpha @books-butterbeer @catastrophicalllyy @cranberrypills @dear-fifi @dropssofjupitter @dravenwitchmusings @empath-bunny @evertiel @expectoscamander @fish-eg @grimdevil @herfantasyworldd @hueanhdang @itsjustfics @just-wordsandthoughts @lemirabitur @lovelyysiriuss @lucys-brain @mentally-in-northern-italy @mikariell95 @moatsnow ℕ - ℤ @niallwrld​ @nothinghcppens @obliviouspotterhead @oui-magnifique @pearlstiare @pink-kixxes @raven-riddle @rededfoxy @saintsha @seriouslyginnychase @silverdelirium @sokkasdimples @suicide-sweetheart636 @sunles @tallyovie @tm-mrvl-rddl @toasterking @valentinecarnage @vallastempermental @voidmalfoy @weirdowithnobeardo @whentheskyispinkandabitblue @whoevenfrickenknows @whoreforgeorgeandfred @wizardcherryblossom​

The Potions dungeon is always cold, always a little damp, and only ever lit by sickly yellow lights hanging in grim iron cages from the hewn stone ceiling, but it has an ethereal, sinister sort of beauty to it. The Charms classroom is nearly the reverse, bright and wooden and polished, smelling faintly like fresh popcorn and lined with teetering stacks of bound parchment. The Greenhouses are beautiful too, burnt orange bricks lined with vibrant green weeds, gnarled tables bowing under the weight of strange, colourful plants, and vein-like vines spreading up across the grubby glass ceiling panes in a way that always casts the sunlight into dappled streams. There’s something to love about every classroom the castle, but there’s one that you love most of all.

Transfiguration isn’t necessarily your best class, and Dumbledore isn’t necessarily your favourite teacher, and yet walking into his classroom fourth period on Tuesdays and first period on Fridays never fails to make you smile like nothing else can. It’s not so much the classroom itself that you love, but rather where in the classroom your desk sits. It’s in the back row, first on the left from the door.

Because that just so happens that, in second period on Wednesdays and fifth period on Mondays, Tom Riddle sits down at the very same desk.

Professor Dumbledore likes to ask questions with two correct answers so that even when you answer correctly, he can still be a little bit more correct than you, you’d written absently one day on a scrap of parchment. You’d rolled the scrap between your fingers until it was a twig-thin scroll and discarded it into the inkwell of your desk when the bell rang, forgotting about it completely until the following Tuesday. Perhaps you would have missed it if you hadn’t remembered the note, leaning forward to check if it was still there. You’d not been expecting much but your brows had raised in surprise when you’d caught sight of a little square of very yellowed parchment sitting in the bottom of the well, nondescript and folded along perfectly aligned edges.

You’d pulled it out quickly, replacing it with your ink pottle and sitting back without anyone noticing – though you hadn’t had a chance to open the note until Dumbledore turned his back to write up a very long explanation of the dormant life potential of live creatures transformed into inanimate objects.

You’d pulled the square note from under your textbook and unfolded each razor-sharp margin to reveal a single sentence written in an alluring slanted script.

And in this practice, is it Dumbledore’s intention to challenge his students or to insist on retaining the intellectual high ground?

There had been a strange exhilaration to it. Someone had actually found your absent thought, someone had taken the time to indulge in writing out a reply. Your response, which you’d left folded up, flat, and covert in the bottom of the inkwell just like the stranger, had read;

Conscious or subconscious?

It had been at the forefront of your thoughts walking to class that Friday, your heart skipping a beat when you’d peeked into the ink well as you’d sat down and found another yellowy square of parchment.

Your implication is not lost on me.

Your excitement had dwindled, your smile slowly fading. It wasn’t much to reply to. Fearing that the close-ended comment had been a subtle request to end the strange exchange, you’d left the inkwell empty when the bell had rung, and an entire month had passed before you’d scribbled out another note to the stranger in a fit of boredom.

This class is 30% people trying to impress Dumbledore, 5% Dumbledore actually being impressed, 15% him saying the phrase “now I’m sure the problem here immediately presents itself,” 20% an unhinged monologue, and 30% watching the guy next to me create monstrosities that defy imagination out of common household items

And there it was. A reply waiting for you three days later as if the month-long silence had never occurred.

You’ve left very little allowance for actually practicing Transfiguration in those calculations. Perhaps Dumbledore would be more impressed if his students spent less class time writing to strangers and more time paying attention to his unhinged monologues.

Which had made you retort with a sarcastic accusation that they, too, were spending class time writing to strangers, and then they’d replied with an equally sarcastic invitation to compare grades, and that had been that. A reply waiting for you in every single Transfiguration class, not a single one missed, each note growing a little longer until you started to wonder what would happen if one of the other students who sat at that desk took a peek into the inkwell by chance between your conversations.

You hadn’t had any idea exactly who you’d been writing to until one fateful Wednesday when, after realising a little too late that you’d left your textbook sitting beneath your desk the previous day, you dashed back to the Transfiguration classroom during break to retrieve it. The double doors were open, the previous class was still filing out, Dumbledore calling after them about the upcoming due date for the very same essay he’d assigned you yesterday.

You wait for the crowd to clear a little, craning your head around the door to see if you can pre-emptively spot your book on the ground under your desk when you catch sight of the person still sitting there. At that moment he’s placing a tidy stack of notes into a simple black folder and sliding it into his bag, head bowed to his task and leaving you to stare quite freely at his very striking profile. You watch frozen as Tom Riddle stands, slings his bag over his shoulder, leans forward, and in a fluid series of very nonchalant motions, picks up a capped pottle of ink and drops a small cleanly folded square of parchment into the empty inkwell in its stead. He turns and steps through the door into the corridor as he stows his ink in his bag, looking up curiously when he notices you standing there motionless.

You stare at him, coming to terms with the impossible realisation that apparently, you’re very good friends with Riddle, the jewel in Slughorn’s crown, most likely to be Minister for Magic before 40, and current record holder for number of Outstanding O.W.L.s in Hogwarts history. Plus there’s the whole thing about him being catastrophically gorgeous.

Tom has paused in front of you, expression polite but with a definite hint of amusement as he clicks his bag shut. “Are you quite alright?” he asks, lips just barely quirking.

“Yes,” you say hastily, turning for the door and leaning down to seize your book off the ground where you’d left it. “I forgot my book,” you mutter as you pass him with averted eyes, hoping it’s enough of an explanation to write off your slightly erratic behaviour as you try to flee the scene.

“We sit at the same desk,” he calls after you.

It’s your turn to hesitate. When you looked over your shoulder he’s still standing there, lips still quirked, a glint in his eyes that makes you suspect that he’s already put two-and-two together.  

“Though you already knew that,” Tom continues, head tilting back a little as he smiles.

“I just found out,” you say, waving a little sheepishly at the door.

He turns to you, striding closer with intimidating ease and his smile visibly growing as he watches your eyes widen – but he moves straight past you with nothing more than a single quiet comment in your ear, lilted with humour. “I await your reply.”

You don’t tell anyone. Not even your friends. Everyone is in love with Tom and you can’t help but suspect that things would quickly get out of hand if anyone found out that you’ve been in close correspondence with him for the past four months, even if you hadn’t technically known it yourself. And things had already become hard enough now that you knew who was reading the notes you left, and whose hand was penning his replies.

You try very hard not to think about it too much, you try not to wonder if he smiles when you write something funny, if he looks forward to your answers to his questions, if he thinks about the notes outside of class like you do. Maybe he’s just bored. Maybe he’s just messing with you. Maybe it had been the anonymity he’d liked about the interactions, and now he’s just humouring you.

It’s useless. You’ve been wondering who was on the other end of the notes since the beginning, wondering exactly which of your peers is made up of this striking mix of shrewd humour, clear intelligence, and measured charisma, and it’s very, very hard to continue as if things are normal once you know that it’s him.

It’s not really that surprising that he evidently noticed your replies shortening, becoming steadily more stilted and less familiar as your nerves get the better of you – though you’d hardly expected him to be so blunt in pointing it out, and you definitely hadn’t anticipated how he’d apparently been interpreting your distance.

Were you disappointed that it was me?

You reread Tom’s note countless times. It lies open and looming at the head of your desk for half the lesson as you try very hard to focus on the class to no avail.

Is this seriously what he’s been thinking? Is it a joke? Is it supposed to be so clearly ridiculous that you’re supposed to understand it as just his way of coaxing the real answer out of you?

You write out your reply, knowing it’s the overly cautious way forward but unable to bear the thought of misinterpreting him.

What do you mean?

In the three days before you get his answer, you find yourself actively avoiding any situation in which you might see him – you attend meals at peak hours to get lost in the crowd, you avoid the library like you’ll disintegrate if you set a foot inside, and you don’t dare stray near the 6th floor on Saturday when you know for a fact that Slughorn is hosting some poncy get-together in his office.

When you finally sit down on Tuesday at your desk, you don’t even pretend to pay attention to Dumbledore starting the class at the front of the room. You seize the yellow parchment square from the inkwell and hastily flatten it on your desk.

I’ve noticed that you’ve been somewhat different since we met. I’m sorry if you were disappointed to learn of my identity, if you’d like to retire our correspondence I promise to let it go gracefully.

Your eyes widen. You pick up the tidy little square and hold it a little closer, barely believing what you’re seeing.

The parchment bears tiny little ink marks, the faded ghosts of letters adjacent to the pitch black carefully constructed script of his insane note. You could just barely make out some of the words – reserved, one of them seems to say, apologies, says another, a couple more faint letters here and there but nothing else you can properly decipher.

It’s heart-wrenchingly obvious what the marks are.

Tom must have drafted the note at least once before leaving this final version for you, his ink bleeding through onto the parchment below.

Dumbledore’s open hand suddenly appeared in front of you and you jump out of your skin, looking up with burning cheeks and a thundering heart. “Note-passing is not tolerated in my classroom I’m afraid,” Dumbledore says kindly, “now please hand it over, and content yourself with note-taking for the remainder of our lesson.”

You crumple up Tom’s note into a ball over the snickers of the rest of the class, placing it in Dumbledore’s hand and ducking your head in embarrassment as people cast looks your way from all over the room. Dumbledore nodded and made his way back to the front of the classroom, and you try to ignore the way people were still giggling at you.

Tom had drafted the note. He’d drafted it.

It’s this more than anything he’d actually written that makes you consider actually answering him honestly.

When everyone’s attention finally slides away from you and Dumbledore is helping a trio of boys at the front of the class with their Augor charms, you surreptitiously tear off a scrap of parchment. You carefully write out your reply, hoping that Tom doesn’t pay half as much attention to your handwriting as you do his. If he did, he might notice that your lettering is a little more shaky than usual.

I wasn’t disappointed at all, Tom, kind of the opposite. You just make me nervous.

You fold it very hastily just to get your own nearly-confession out of your sight before you second-guess yourself, slipping it underneath your ink pottle. Your heart’s beating too fast considering nothing’s actually happened yet.

It takes all of twenty minutes after class ends for you to regret being so honest. You have to force yourself not to go back and retrieve your note before Tom’s lesson the following day, dreading someone seeing you and demanding an explanation. Instead, you throw yourself into a series of distractions that are almost successful in keeping your mind off your square of parchment sitting in that little wooden nook waiting for Tom’s elegant fingers to lift it from its hiding place.

You don’t know what the hell to expect when you sit down on Friday, but nothing could have prepared you for what you found in your inkwell when you leaned forward.

Nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

You sit back, stomach sinking so hard your throat closes up like you’re about to be sick. It’s the first time in half a year he’s not left you a reply.

It had been really stupid to read into those marks, he’d probably just been writing notes for class overtop of the note. It had been really stupid to read into any of this, now that you think about it. You drop your ink pottle into the well, jaw tight, wishing you weren’t this disappointed.

There’s nothing there the following Tuesday either, the nook sits empty and dusty and silent. When Friday comes and there’s still no note you start to accept with grim, hard-to-swallow shame that your confession hasn’t gone unanswered at all. The silence is his answer.

Maybe it had been a ruse after all. Maybe he’d lost all interest in the game when he’d found out you’re just like everyone else in the school, harbouring feelings for him. You have no trouble coming up with increasingly mortifying reasons for his silence over the week that follows, and  you very quickly come to the resolute decision that you need to put the entire ordeal out of your head – clearly Tom already had.

You’re winding your way back to your common room after a late night finishing Slughorn’s assignment on the ethics of using fairy blood when you hear the footsteps.

Someone was running somewhere nearby, echoing through the vaulted stone ceilings and airy corridors, and you pause at the corner looking around curiously as the footsteps seem to be getting much, much louder. You jump back a bit as Tom suddenly skids to a stop in front of you.

You blink at him, stunned. His normally pale face is flushed, the black waves of his hair slightly stuck to his forehead, his lips parted and he’s breathing hard, his tie askew and his usually perfect robes hanging slightly off one shoulder. He’s leaning forward a little, squinting at you as he tries to catch his breath.

“Tom,” you say in utter astonishment.

“He just gave it to me,” Tom says through hard breaths, lifting a small scrap of paper in his hand that, with a feeling much like being impaled through the stomach with a large icicle, you instantly recognise as your note. “Dumbledore.”

“Dumbledore just gave you my note?” you ask dumbly, still very bewildered by his appearance.

Tom nods. “I went to ask him some questions, about some of the comments he left on my essay,” he manages to say, his dark brows pulling together and his chest still rising and falling a little more than usual. “And afterwards, he asked if I recognised this.”

You find yourself wishing violently Dumbledore had thrown the thing out. “He caught me reading yours the other day,” you mutter, holding your books a little tighter to your chest and looking away. “He must have seen me hide it.”

“He just gave it to me,” Tom repeats, holding it out a bit more.

“Well he may be a little unhinged but he’s still pretty sharp,” you quip, turning your shoulders away and hoping he takes the hint and lets you leave. “I’m not surprised he knew it was for you, I suppose he recognised your handwriting in the first one –”

“You don’t have to be nervous,” Tom interrupts loudly.

You go very still, staring at him again. Tom’s lips press together, and he finally lowers the note.

“I just wanted to tell you,” he adds with a slight frown, and if this wasn’t Tom Riddle you would have sworn that there was something almost awkward in the way he averts his gaze from yours.

“Did you run here?” you ask suddenly, even though the answer is very obviously yes.

Tom’s uncomfortable look intensifies, and you watch him shift slightly on his feet with a mixture of deep gratification and a sudden bursting fondness so intense you feel a smile appear on your lips.

“How did you know I was here?” you add curiously, turning back to him.

“I saw you when I was in the library earlier,” Tom says quickly, sliding the note into the pocket of his trousers like he’s hoping you somehow won’t notice. “I thought I might still catch you.”

You nod slowly. Tom’s eyes are now flicking between yours and the smile on your lips like he’s trying to figure out exactly what this combination of emotions means and someone’s timing him to do so.

“Well,” you say after a long second, taking a step back down the corridor and savouring the sight of him standing there with his ruined hair and dishevelled uniform before you have to turn away. “I await your reply.”

He nods wordlessly, watching you retreat, and you bite back your smile as you force your eyes off him and hurry away.

Maybe you’d been a little too harsh on Dumbledore after all.

𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭, tom riddle

summary: in which, y/n decides to deliberately disobey her boyfriend to fulfill some unspoken fantasies.

pairing: fem!reader x tom riddle. use of she/her pronouns.

contains: possession, degrading, teasing, orgasm denial, edging, dirty talk, oral (f receiving), dom/sub themes, spit, innocence kink if you squint, rough sex, unprotected sex, over stimulation

notes: all acts are consensual. characters are of age.

word count: 3,461

requests are open!

She had already started the night off right, exactly how she planned. Y/N stood in below Tom in a tight black dress that was completely flattering to her figure. The silk material enveloped her form, cut a little bit to low at the chest and rid a little too high on her thighs for Tom’s liking. 

His stare almost melted the fabric off of her body. Hot and heavy, he stood over her, her back to the door and chests almost pressed together. He left some intentional space between the two of them. He was quite literally blocking her from leaving. His hand held the door handle strongly, making the veins in his hands completely visible to her as a way of coaxing his girlfriend into not going to the party tonight.

Tom wasn’t one for parties, but occasionally he’d accompany his girlfriend with a strong hand around her waist and an intimidating scowl on his face so any of those dimwitted boys that would drool over her wouldn’t stand a chance to even talk to her. That’s if she asked nicely enough, and usually in exchange for some favors.

His eyes swept down her frame, disapproving of the outfit. “Absolutely not. Go change.” He stated firmly. His words were sharp and definite. She knew no matter how much she argued, she wouldn’t get her way. Not tonight.

“Why? Don’t you like it?” Y/N ran her hands down the dress, fingers tapping nervously at her side.

He almost scoffed at her response, he hates when she plays dumb. “You know that isn’t the reason, doll. You look like a slut. It’s basically lingerie.”

“Is that all so bad?” She asked, subconsciously tipping herself closer to him. She wasn’t offended by his words. More so, turned on.

He ignored the way her innocent eyes looking up at him made him twitch in his pants. “For me, and my eyes only, no.” He said, emphasis on his use of the word ‘my’. “But, I will not have you looking like that at a party full of drunk, horny, guys. Not fucking happening.”

She sighed, tucking hair behind her ear. “Tom,” her hand trailed down from his collar bone to his hand. 

“Don’t start. Go change, or you aren’t going. End of story.” He shook her hand off of his arm and walked away, leaving her standing alone, back still pressed to the door, pout placed pretty on her lips.

Everything was going according to plan. She took a deep breath- almost bracing herself for what she was about to do. She had never deliberately disobeyed him before. Before any last minute second thoughts could stop her, she opened the door and left.

Close to an hour had past and reality set in. It filled her with excitement, and even a little bit of fear, because she didn’t know what he was going to do to her. He didn’t follow her out of the dorm room like she anticipated. So now, she waited in a room full of intoxicated adolescents in an arousing, uncertain anxious feeling that settled in the pit of her stomach.

Instead of dwelling on what was going to happen, she decided to enjoy any sort of time she had left. Maybe, nothing would happen. And sneaking out in the black dress, disobeying him, would get her nowhere. But there was always a possibility.

Hands that weren’t Tom’s made their way to Y/N’s hips on the dance floor. It wasn’t uncomfortable or unwanted, it was exciting and new.

So she danced with him- a Ravenclaw boy with dark hair and a sharp jaw. Even though there was a drink or two in her system and in the long run this dance wouldn’t matter, it still mattered that it was a Ravenclaw instead of Tom. She wished the strong hands gripping at her sides were his.

There wasn’t a day that past by when Tom didn’t orchestrate what she wore to these parties. Not just clothes, but makeup too. Claiming that dark lipstick and false eyelashes made her look like a prostitute. Heels and push-up bras made her look like a whore, and long skin tight dresses like this one made her look slutty.

It wasn’t because those things were true, it was because he wanted to have her, all of her, to himself. He wanted her to dress up pretty like this for him, and only him. The thought of any guy even looking at Y/N in any of those things- dark lipstick, false eyelashes, heels, push-up bras and skin tight dresses made his blood start to boil.

The possession wasn’t something she hated. It’s something she welcomed instead. Yes, his behavior was slightly toxic. They were both aware. But, that didn’t matter to either of them because-

“What the fuck is this?!”

Sharp words pierced the air behind her. For a split second, she didn’t want to even turn around and see. He grabbed her wrist and almost tore y/n off of the second party’s body. Even though anger encompassed every cell of his body, he pulled her in close to his side.

“Who the fuck do you think you are? Touching MY girlfriend?” His grip on her arm grew tighter, to the point where it almost hurt.

“Uh, I- look man, um, I don’t want any trouble,” He scrambled for words. Anybody in the room could clearly see the fear in his eyes.

“Let’s just go,” Y/N said shyly, tugging the sleeve of his shirt to the direction of the door. The blaring music drowned out her fruitless attempt at swaying his decision.

He looked down at her, a look he knew all too well. A look that said, 'Don’t do anything, please?’

He shoved her off of him slightly, and took a step forward. “You’re lucky. You’re fucking lucky your jaw isn’t broken. If I ever even see you looking in her direction ever again, I swear to god.”

After one last menacing look to assert his dominance, he grabbed Y/N and dragged her out of the common room.

“Tom, I-” She started, trying to keep up with the fast pace he had storming down the hallways back to his dorm.

“Shut up.” He said, and continued looking forward.

“We were just dancing,” She said, ignoring what he just told her to do. A slight tone of annoyance in her voice.

“What did I just say? Just dancing, huh? You might as well have just gotten on your damn knees and shoved his dick down your throat, Y/N.” He scowled at his own words. The thought of that was absolutely sickening.

He had already told her to shut up once, so saying something in protest would not be the best option. Continuing on until they were in front of his room, he fumbled with the lock until the door swung open and he pushed her inside and onto the bed.

He stood before her, his dominant presence making her knees grow weak even though she was already sitting down. The way that his button up shirt sat across his broad chest made her think sinful thoughts.

All she could think about was him using her. For his pleasure only. The thought of him relentlessly fucking her even if she already came- because all that mattered was that he wasn’t done yet, was a reoccurring thought. Teased and tortured into submission, she would be his.

He placed his hands on the bridge of his nose and sighed audibly, thinking about what to do with her, how to put her in her place.

“I can’t fucking believe you. Honestly.”

She looked up at him, innocently of course, a slight apologetic look playing on her features. Her fingers moving nervously in her lap.

Even though pure anger flowed through him right now, he couldn’t ignore the way the dress rid up her thighs and looked constrained against her skin. Especially her chest.

“And now you have nothing to say? For fuck’s sake, y/n.” He looked down at her and was.. displeased to say the least when he saw her eyes fixated to her hands.

He took a step forward and forcibly moved her face to look right at him. His hand rested on her cheek, his touch firm yet soft. The security of built trust and knowing he would never hurt her calmed her nerves slightly.

“Answer me when I speak to you.” He said, his tone laced with lust.

His thumb traced her face down to her bottom lip, parting them slightly.

“I’m sorry.” Was all she could muster. He was well in between her legs now, spread open in front of him with no friction. The mix of being so close and his strong hold on her face made her apology sound more like a whine.

“Are you really? Or are you just saying that so I’ll forget about your behavior and fuck you anyways?” He held direct eye contact with her as he spoke.

Y/N was left speechless at her helpless position on the edge of the bed. He smirked to himself, and knelled- dipping between her legs.

He moved his hand up the skin of her inner thigh, making her shiver. Skin heating up at the places he touched. His touch was feather-light, nowhere near enough. He slipped his hand under the dress and pulled upwards, so it sat on her hips exposing her soaked underwear.

He slid his hand up further on her inner thigh. Admiring the existing hickies he’d left on her skin previously. Her mouth open slightly, trying to control her erratic breathing.

“Didn’t even respond to me and I’m already giving you what you want,” His pointer and middle finger ghosted over her clothed clit.

“Please,” she breathed. Pleading for some sort of touch.

“Yeah?” He pressed his fingers down ever so slightly, just enough to draw out an aching whimper. “Fuck, you’re dripping. Already. I haven’t even touched you and your panties are a mess.”

The way the vulgar words rolled off his tongue so easily but were encased with heat and desire caused a light moan to fall from her lips. With that, he pressed his fingers firmly into her through her underwear.

The simple action caused her hips to lift into his touch, rubbing herself on his fingers. “So fucking needy,” he tutted. “Go ahead, get yourself off on my hand. You fucking slut.”

The way he spit out his words caused her to move faster, chasing the feeling. The way Tom rubbed against her clit, hitting exactly where she needed it to, mixed with the bucking of her own hips made obscene noises leave her pretty lips. 

He slid her underwear aside and admired how her arousal dripped down her cunt. “Fuck,” he whispered to himself. He was almost mesmerized by her pussy, even if he’d seen it a million times. He cursed himself again, because he remembered he was supposed to be punishing her.

Tossing the thought aside, his hand snaked around her waist and pulled her closer to his face. He inched closer, and trailed his finger from her clit to her entrance. He slid it in the smallest bit, teasing the hole. Looking up at her, her head was tilted back almost, but not enough that he couldn’t see her face. She gripped the sheets in her fists. So much so that her knuckles went white.

“Please, please, please.” Knowing Tom, he’d tell her to use her words. “Please, Tom, I need more- fuck,” y/n pleaded, looking down at him.

He shushed her gently and licked her clit. Y/n let out a choked sob followed by more desperate pleas. He continued to work at her clit as his finger slid deeper, drawing out longer moans and cries of his name on her tongue.

He let his finger slide further, picking up a steady pace that was agonizingly slow. His was tongue now relentlessly flicking her clit. He felt her thighs move together, immediately pushing them apart to get at her deeper. 

Even though she was impossibly wet already, Tom pulled his head back and harshly spit on her cunt. His mouth went back working impossibly fast on her clit. The taste of her on his tongue alone made him roll his hips, erection blaring between his legs.

His light groans against her, his strong hand pressed on her inner thigh, the noises that equaled absolute filth, it was all too much.

He felt her walls begin to tighten around his finger. He pressed up, hitting her g spot exactly. She inhaled sharply, chasing her high that she needed so desperately.

And then, it all stopped.

Tom stood up, locking eyes with her as he stuck his finger into her mouth, locking in her whimpers. She took his wrist in her hand and sucked on his finger, hips rutting into the air. After she finished her task, the begging resumed. “Please, no, keep going-,”

“Come on, angel. You know you don’t deserve that.” He spoke, starting to undo buttons on his shirt.

She bit her lip in anxiety. The same aroused uncertain feeling pooling in her stomach from earlier mixed with the need from a denied orgasm built up enough courage to say what she wanted to say.

“Use me.”

“What?” His cock dripped even more pre-cum at the sound of that, causing a very visible wet spot on his pants.

“Use me, Tom. I’m yours. Do whatever you want to me. I’m asking you.” She begged, pulling him closer by the belt. Her hands rubbed at the sides of his thighs as she stared sweetly up at him.

“Fuck princess, is that what you want?” He asked, even though he could tell from the sound of her voice she was more than sure.

“Yes. Please.” She pleaded, still looking up at him.

“Okay. You know what to say if you want to stop. Take off your clothes.”

Happily she obliged. Her cheeks growing hot at his intent stare as she lifted her dress over her shoulders and slid off her dampened panties onto the floor. He palmed himself through his pants at the sight of her placed so elegantly on the edge of his bed, cunt dripping onto the sheets, making himself groan. 

As much as he loved how the black lace of her bra against her skin, he wanted her completely naked. His hand snaked around her back and unhooked her bra, leaving her completely bare in front of him. She swallowed and let out a shallow breath that she didn’t know she was holding.

“Stand up,” he commanded, holding her wrist as she did so. His hands trailed down her skin and stopped at her thighs, spinning her body around. He took her arms behind her back, holding them in place with one strong arm as he pulled her even closer with the other, erection twitching against her bare ass. 

She sighed in pleasure as her clit ached for more friction. He breathed her in, hot caramelized sugar filling his senses as he tucked hair behind her ear to grant access to the smooth skin on her neck. He kissed down the span of it softly, nipping just above her collarbone. He pressed a hickey into her neck, tongue fluttering over the area to soothe the sting. 

And with that, the soft moment of kissing halted. He let her arms free of his grasp, and pushed her face down onto his mattress. His hands skimmed the bare skin of her ass, savoring the touch on her skin. His palms ignited fire within her stomach, positioning her up so her pussy pressed against his clothed cock.

Right before she could even vocalize the pleasure of feeling him against her, he backed up and started to unbuckle his belt and pull it through the loops. He pulled down his zipper with his palm, discarding the unneeded articles of clothing onto the floor. 

He held the base of his cock and pressed it to her clit, and down to her entrance drawing out a long moan. 

“Please, Tom. Need you so bad, please,” she whined against the sheets. 

And with that, he pressed himself fully into her, groaning at how easily he slipped in and how he felt around her. Already the pleasure was unbearable for him. Going from not being touched at all to completely inside of her was an escalation of intensity that he loved. He let out a low moan and started moving his hips.

Giving her no time to adjust to his length (not that she needed to), he began pounding into her. His hands found themselves at her hips. His grasp strong enough that it stung so deliciously and would defiantly leave marks in the shape of his hands, and he loved that. He loved that parts of her body only he could see were decorated with sinful marks. 

His pace was merciless and unforgiving, hitting her exactly where she needed him with each snap of his hips. The sounds that left her lips were pornographic and muffled, making Tom twitch inside of her. 

He pulled out briefly, and they both wined lowly in sync at the loss of him inside of her. He pulled her up, her back flush against his front. Their bodies scalding hot pressed against one another. He slipped back in and resumed his brutal pace, but this time, being so close to one another caused him to hit deeper than before. 

His hand wandered around her to her cunt, thumbing her clit. The other arm holding her in place, never breaking his rhythm. She screamed out in pleasure. 

“Yeah? I want you to remember about this moment the next time you even think about dancing with another guy,” He spoke breathlessly against her skin. His tone rough, folded in with jealousy and pleasure. “You think anyone else can make you feel this good? Fuck you like I can?” 

“Mmm, fuck,” she moaned. 

“Answer me.” 

“No, only you, shit-” she gasped. Back arched against him. His pace was unforgettably rough, his fingers still circling her clit as he moved in and out of her. She was on the edge, any moment the rubber band could snap inside of her. He trailed open mouth kisses on her shoulders, speeding up his pace on her clit. He could feel her gripping around him, both of them knowing that she was close.

“Oh my god, oh my god, I’m gonna cum, I-” she screamed out. The grip on her hips got tighter, fucking her through her orgasm. He felt her cum drip down between where the both of them met, the noises growing wetter and more obscene. 

“Tom, jesus,” she moaned. She wasn’t used to this, even though she’d already came, his pace didn’t slow down. 

“I’m not done yet.” 

Just those words alone ignited the fire in her stomach again. Her legs shaking against him from her previous orgasm, moaning out in the delicious sting of over stimulation. He pressed her down to the bed again, placing his strong hand on the base of her ass.

“I know you’ve got another one in you, can you cum again for me?” He asked, not once breaking his pace. His thick words drew her closer again, along with the new feeling of her already fucked out cunt continuing to be tortured. 

“Mhm,” she whined out breathlessly. Her second orgasm building fast in the pit of her stomach. 

His hips faltered, the first time she felt him break his pace. She felt him twitch inside of her, knowing he was close. His hold on her hips tightened along with the feeling in her cunt and stomach. He let out a low groan, and the next thing she knew she felt him spilling out inside of her. With that, the band snapped again and they came together, Tom fucking through both of their orgasms.

With one last thrust, he pulled out of her and she dissolved into the overwhelming pleasure she just experienced. He took a step back and watched both of their releases pour our of her. 

“My god,” He whispered. He helped her up and pulled her closer, the sweat that adorned both of their bodies glistening under the light above them.

“Are you okay? Was that too much?” He asked, kissing her forehead.

“No,” she responded almost immediately. “It was so good.”

“Okay.” He said. “Don’t ever pull something like that again, though,” smiling a little bit, still kissing her. 

She laughed lightly and nodded, basking in the feeling knowing that he wasn’t mad at her. “I’m going to go shower, want to join?” 

“Obviously,” he replied, and with that, the fucked out couple went to wash off their ungodly activities. 

a/n: hi! i hope you enjoyed! it’s my first full length smut one-shot, so please let me know what you think :3 <3s and reblogs appreciated. 

questions for slughorn...

AKA: How many times can I hint at the name of the original book in a canon divergence AU?

"The philosopher's stone, sir?" asked Tom. This hadn't been quite what he was looking for, but Slughorn had quite the treasure trove of knowledge and was willing to share it — an opportunity that Tom certainly wouldn't turn his nose up at. "Surely, you don't mean..."

His eyes must have been straining out of his skull, because Slughorn laughed heartily before he answered Tom's question.

"If you wish to take alchemy in your third year, I suspect you will learn all about it from Mr. Flamel himself when he comes to visit once a year."

Tom actually felt his jaw drop at this suggestion. Surely, Slughorn must be pulling his leg.

"I do not jest, Tom," said Slughorn, settling back in his chair. "Though it is a curious thing to ponder. One might wonder if an endless supply of money and eternal life are blessings, after all. You've met Dumbledore's Fawkes, m'boy?"

And in response to Tom's nod, he added in a conspiratorial tone: "What do you say we ask him, eh?"

Excerpt from Chapter 11 (up on Saturday) @  FFN | AO3!

Tom gets up to... a lot at Slughorn's Christmas party.

Chapter One: Increase of Secrets

Locket!Tom (‘Mordred’) and a reluctant Tee scheme while under close watch.

Read from the beginning at FFN | AO3!

He trudged up three floors and made his way to the corridor where the professors' apartments were. His was at the dead end (so they heard him if he went creeping about at night, especially since the Potions Master kept frighteningly late hours; Tee had smelt the scent of boiling moonstone wafting through the hallways at twenty past three in the morning.

And why was he even awake at twenty past three in the morning? he thought, trodding down the corridor. The last door gave way as he turned the doorknob, and shut behind him with a quiet puff.

He surveyed the contents of the relatively bare room.

The narrow bed against the window was neatly made — the sheets folded to a point. There was a small bookcase off to the side, a window overlooking the grounds, and a desk cluttered with scraps of parchment that had begun to float down to the floor, overdue library books, broken quills, an ashtray filled with cigarette stubs, and an open bottle of ink. The hard wooden chair had been left pulled out.

And though the room was sparse, nothing was white or otherwise blank. Green wallpaper with tiny, curling patterns, wooden floor with the knots and grooves still visible… and something about the room smelled like forest and home — something very relaxing, but intoxicating at the same time.

There was an old-looking pewter cauldron off to the side. Beside it, a battered copy of Moste Potente Potions (complete with a disintegrating dust jacket) was open to somewhere in the middle. (Not that it mattered, as he didn't have a wand — yet).

A man in his late twenties, dressed elegantly with long, sweeping black robes over his dinner jacket, leaned against the wall, his arms crossed. A silver pocket watch dangled from his long, clever fingers.

"It was taking you long enough," said the locket's long-time inhabitant. "Why didn't you call, Tommy?"

Chapter Three: A Cracked Reflection

With Hogwarts permanently cut off from the outside world, the summer holidays are relatively quiet and uneventful for the Potters, at least, if you don't count Hagrid's Blast-Ended Skrewts.

For Tee and Mordred, however, a thorough investigation of the third-floor corridor turns up some long-held secrets. Read from the beginning at FFN | AO3!

"Devil's Snare," noted Mordred. "Looks a bit singed."

"It's a bit of an expert job, for Potter, isn't it?" asked Tee. That was what he would have done. Ruby had never mentioned her brother going rogue while he was in the diary. That meant this must have happened their third year, or, more likely, their first year.

Maybe this is my handiwork.

There was no way out but back the way they'd come; or through. Tee chose the latter, emerging into a blindingly bright chamber. Above them was an assortment of keys of crystal, gems, or precious metals fluttering around. A few brooms were leaned against the wall, collecting dust.

"Try that brass one there," said Mordred, pointing up at the only drab key. As Tee floated up to get it, he groused: "Who came up with this? Who did they mean to keep out? Eleven-year-olds?"

They went through the next rooms quickly, as the stench of rotting troll followed them throughout. Eventually, they wound up in a cold, dark room in the dungeons. Tee fumbled out a few straifs with a piece of chalk he had in his pockets to light the sconces, then turned towards the center of the room once more.

He started instantly, his hand wrapping around the edge of a sconce to keep him steady. His own eyes stared back at him, dark and knowing. The wizard in the mirror was as perfect a copy as the Boggart had always been, but this one blazed with a terrible aliveness.

Exposing Riddle

summary: reader is in a silly goofy mood and annoys tom out of bored.

y’all idk what this is, its kind of all over but that’s just how i write, enjoy xx <3

you shut your book close, deciding to to a break from the novel. another love triangle, great. it’s all fun and games until she chooses the wrong person. you were a sucker for romantic stories, but it was cliche times like these where you could see where tom was coming from when he’d roast you and your literature selections.

“more garbage i assume.” he startles you, nearly causing the stack to slip from your hands. a knee goes up to instinctively catch them. but tom is quicker, smoothly removing the books from your hands and continues to walk alongside you.

“oh shut it riddle, not everyone gravitates toward expository text covering musty artifacts.” you retort, trying to hide your blushed cheeks. tom gave a small amused smile at your failure, ironically also trying to hide his reaction.

“yo tom” nose buried in the book resting on his slightly bent knees, he hums.

“tom. tommy. tomothy.” you called out hoping for a more interesting response, only to receive the same thing.

curious, you roll onto your back and sit up on the common room sofa, eyeing him.

crisp, ironed straight uniform, polished shoes, and not a curl out of place. of course. even sitting on the carpeted floor, back against the opposing sofa, he looked so elegant and perfect.

a ball of paper hits his forehead and lands onto the page he was reading. with the most blank expression on his face he looks up at you.

“yes?”

“i’m bored” he sighs patiently and returns to his book.

many wondered how the pair of you became friends. he seemed to not like spending much time with other people besides his slytherin boys, but their relationships felt very business like. on rare occasions you wondered the same thing. perhaps it was second year when you jinxed abraxas when he made a remark on toms uniform that was a bit too large on him. you didn’t know tom, and he didn’t know you, but you and malfoy knew each other. your guys’ beef traced back to toddler years when your mother made you play with him while her and narcissa socialized in the tea room.

“that is quite the problem you have on your hands, (y/l/n).” he turns the page in his book. you groan dramatically and an amused smile hides behind the Sacred 28 History book propped up in his lap.

wait a minute.

your eyes furrow.

He was reading that book last thursday, meaning he should have already finished it two days ago.

“didn’t you read that book already?” you almost missed the way his body froze intensely.

“no.” lies.

you can tell by the way he paused.

you slowly rise to your feet and walk over to him. but tom already knows he’s caught and he accepts his fate. sitting on the couch behind him you read a few lines over his shoulder. unlike tom, you were too distracted to realize how close you guys were at that moment.

“she put on her scuffed Converse…the sound of his loud motorcycle engine…- hey this isn’t Sacred 28!” you jump up nearly knocking your knee to the side of your head. you pull the book from his hands and tap your wand on the cover, revealing it’s true title. you turn your head and look at him with your mouth agape.

in shock you don’t know if you want to laugh or be mad.

“tom, i thought you didn’t like my books” you question, crossing your arms over your chest. he looks up at you like a stubborn teenager getting lectured. a funny sight to see.

“i didnt” he says evenly. you wanted to go on about the subject, but you felt that he was already embarrassed.

“anyway, it’s dinner time let’s go” you change the subject offering a hand to help pull him up, though he didn’t need it.

the walk was silent between you two despite the many voices bouncing off the corridor walls. you break the silence.

“okay but team malek or team maverick?”

tom looks at you curiously. nervousness rose in you. too soon?

merlin knows the typical teenage boy ego, and then some, because it was tom.

“maverick of course.”

Exposing Riddle Part Dos

summary: after finding out tom has been secretly reading the same books he’d dog on the reader for enjoying, another discovery is made, putting him on blast once again.

i just wanna say i hope none of my favorite tom riddle writers see my content. it’s so out of his character and sooo not canon but so amusing for me to write. these are all unedited btw apologize in advance for errors. so much chaos also scroll all the way down for a surprise xx

“do you wanna know what i hate?” you say out of nowhere.

tom looks up from his divination homework catching a glance at your parchment. noticing you were nearly done with your astronomy chart conclusions, he decides to reward your productivity by not lecturing you to focus on your work.

“do i have a choice?” he deadpans, dipping his quill in ink to continue writing.

“no you don’t,” you say honestly, “but i hate it when the main character always needs to be saved-“

“mhm” he responds numbly.

“by a man” you finish.

the brown haired boy stopped writing mid sentence, making you smirk before he can see it.

you and tom riddle had a lot of things in common; academic validation, ambition, and little interest in teenage woes your classmates thought meant the end of the world.

but he was old fashion, and you were open to deeper thinking and new ideas. you enjoyed challenging him, mostly because you liked seeing him try to hide his flustered face when he found himself cornered.

“what do you mean? how else is she to be rescued from a danger in a climactic scene?”

“i don’t know. rescue herself, show her love interest that she can take care of herself and she doesn’t love him just because he’s always there to save her.” you shrug.

“that’s absurd. that’s why there’s no stories with that sort of plot line.” he scoffs. taken aback by his lack of effort to see your side you bite back.

“but the misunderstood villain plot line is just soooo much better…” you tease, your eyes widen in realization and your smug look drops, “…which isn’t a bad plot line, no not at all” you ramble on.

tom clears his throat and sits back in the wooden seat, arms crossed over his chest with an amused look.

“alright, tell me what you know.”

“nothing.” you deny, looking anywhere but at him. tom gives you a look.

“okay i read your diary-“

“you what-“

“it was on accident!” you defend innocently.

“(y/n) how can you mistakenly read a book with my name printed on the cover?”

“it was folded in one of the novels you borrowed from me you must have been writing and reading and forgot to- oh merlin…” you trail off getting lost in your thoughts, weaving through clues and connecting the dots.

“what?” tom snaps.

lightbulb

“ you were writing a fan fiction”

“a what”

“you inserted yourself into one of the stories. that’s why the names sounded so familiar.” heat rises to his cheeks, but you were too shooketh to enjoy his flustered state.

“that’s ridiculous,” he shakes his head in denial.

he pushes his chair back and smoothly collects his things.

“excuse me, i have the chart my astronomy observations”

it was literally 7:00 pm there were no stars to chart at this hour.

“okay voldemort”

vid creds to owner

Tuesday 7:44 pm

you: hey it’s me from the book shop lol

tom: Good evening.

Tuesday 7:50 pm

you: hey remember the guy we saw at the bookstore and i asked for his number

lestrange: yeah what about

malfoy: si

you: 1 Image Attached

lestrange: typing…

malfoy: ‘good evening’ okay dracula lmaooo

you: BYE

lestrange: ask for nudes

but those two hate each other (t.m.r.)

malfoy: i dee heru

nott: what?

malfoy: i seer herj

nott: english malfoy

malfoy: I SAID I SEE HER

incoming call from nott

abraxas huffed in annoyance and accepted the call. he balanced the phone between his shoulder and ear, immediately bringing both hands back to the broom handle.

“yes?!”

“me-oww someone is in a feisty mood.” the blonde rolled his eyes.

“well it’s kind of hard texting while flying 300 feet in the sky!”

“tsk tsk,” nott tutted, “well, what do you see?”

“umm…” malfoy levitated the binoculars to his eyes. “I see (y/n)….and….AND RIDDLE!” he screamed, nearly dropping both devices.

“what?!” not said equally surprised.

“wait is that malfoy?” lestrange sounded from the background. “didn’t i tell you guys to leave (y/n) alone? if she doesn’t want to study with us she doesn’t want to study with us.”

“so sneaking around with tom riddle is better than hanging out with us?”

“what?! those two hate each other—put the phone on speaker.” lestrange instructs.

“are they dueling or fighting, malfoy? because i will hex that curly headed f…”

but abraxas wasn’t listening. he was too intrigued by the sight of tom and his friend being in the same room not trying to tear each other’s heads off.

“they’re talking…civilly…” he says to himself, squinting into the binoculars. (y/n) said something, and tom seemed to disagree, crossing his arms over his chest.

“talking?” nott asked in confusion, snapping the broom flyer out of his trance.

the (h/c) girl turned away, only for riddle to grab your arm and pull you toward him, connecting your guy’s lips.

“OH MY MERLIN THEYRE KISSING!”

“WHAT?!” but there was no time to elaborate.

an odd sound flew past abraxas’ right ear. then it flew the opposite direction past his left ear. it was the sound of flapping.

it was a bat.

“they’re kissing??!!” his friends exclaimed.

“whaa-“ he swerved on his broom, swatting the animal away. his binoculars dropping in the process making him curse.

“abraxas what is happening?” reinhard asked.

“its…it’s…a bat!” he said in between swats.

the two boys on the other end heard the creatures shrieking, and their friend’s too as a matter of fact.

“it’s pecking at me now!” the boy squealed, trying to sneak a squint at the window again only to find them gone.

“it’s probably the pumpkin pasties in your pocket!” nott spoke loudly over the commotion.

“what?!”

“i put them in your pocket in case you got hungry after practice!” he explained, earning a judgmental look from reinhard.

after what seemed like hours of wrestling, malfoy was finally able to retrieve the pastry and throw it like a frisbee, the bat chasing it like an obedient dog.

letting out a sign in relief, which only lasted for a second, his hand slipped forward causing him to lose balance.

caught off guard, abraxas screamed his way down the 300 feet. his friends on the other end hearing his cry get quieter and louder. quieter and louder, as him and the phone fell in and out of sync. the slytherin began to say his final prayers.

“dear merlin, or sky, or constellations, or whatever my grandparents believe in. i’m sorry i put hair dissolve in avery’s shampoo and for being a shitty quidditch player. please let my parents know i-“

by miracle, malfoys body came to a half before his face could meet the earth. his body levitating inches above the ground.

when he looked up to thank his savior, he was met with an expressionless tom holding his wand out and a disappointed (y/n).

“well hello, tom. come here often?” he grinned, before his body hit the ground with a thud.

the hangover (t.m.r.)

I have so many drafts of a university a.u. series, but for now we’ll stick to a stand alone short.

summary: in order to receive higher education, you attend a muggle university at the cost of keeping your wizarding identity a secret (cuz duh). you only know of one another student in the same position as you, but you keep clear of each other’s paths because you were academic rivals back in the good ol’ days of hogwarts. 

summary: tomxreader, college!tomxcollege!reader, legilimens!tomxocclumens!reader, enemies to not enemies! (you can define that last part after you read), wizards of muggley place

warnings: drinking, kidnapping, blackbeltinasswhoopin!reader, pantsless?reader

“(y/n)! catch-“

“no abraxas we can’t play inside-“ but it was too late. your eight year old playmate threw the youth size quaffle, re-enacting the same pitch his favorite quidditch athlete threw at the match he watched with his father the other weekend. the ball landed on the living room coffee table, shattering the glass.

“oh no our table!” you ran over to the broken pieces, abraxas running down the stairs following. “it’s broken!” tears ran down you face as you heard your mother arriving at the fireplace.

you sat up in your bed, panting, realizing that it was only a dream. you brought the neck of your shirt to your face to absorb the cold sweat. What an odd nightmare. you stopped dreaming about the lecture and punishment until you were ungrounded two months after the incident, and that was ten years ago.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you inhaled, realizing that you don’t wear cologne. you looked down and see that you were not only in a shirt that wasn’t yours, but your pants were also missing. this wasnt even your bed.

“ahhh!” you tore off the grey sheets as you looked around for pants. YOUR pants preferably. But there were no clothes on the ground, an inconvenient but also good sign. You didn’t remember anything from last night, nonetheless the source of your headache. the room was impossibly simple, but not completely bare. there were books, everywhere, and a banner of-

“slytherin?!” You rush to stand. panic set in.

a wizards room? a wizards college dorm room? was there another wizard at your university? There was only one other you could think of, but why were you in their room-

“why are you screaming?” a very sleep deprived riddle opens the door calmly.

“so many questions—ahhh! tom?!”

“stop screaming-“

“get out!”

“it’s my room-“

“i have no pants!”

“what-oh right! here wear these-“ he threw a pair of grey sweats at you before shutting the door.

a few moments later…

you slouch against the wall “did we-”

“no” tom responds, flipping the page of his book

“are you sure because…”

“you were very intoxicated last night, (y/l/n). i would not.” well that explains the headache… you stare at his elegant fingers supporting the book by its spine. Your eyes trail to his wrists exposed by the movement of his hoodie sleeves. They were marked and red as if they had been bound. what in the kinky dinky-

“stop that”

“Stop what?” you look up in confusion. Dang, you forgot he was a legilimens.

“thinking about disturbing things, it’s not what you think…” tom clears his throat. Hmm yeah, sure buddy. Regardless, you let your mind wonder elsewhere.

“i wouldn’t drink though, not here at least. that’s too reckless…” he paused his reading, moving suspiciously slow. there was many things you and riddle disagreed with during your time at Hogwarts, but one thing at this institution was clear. Don’t let your wizard identity be revealed.

“it wasn’t exactly your choice…”

“what?” you sat up.

he sighs and looks at his wristwatch, “how much time do you have?”

“i have no classes” you lean forward in interest.

“if you’re gonna kill me kill me now,” you pointed your nose up and squinted your eyes in defiance. the masked, hooded person reached for his wand.

“…and into the van i go…” another uniformed member put a sack over your head.

“ow—way to treat a lady!” you grunted after being manhandled into a seating position in what you assumed was inside the vehicle.

“merlin you can’t be serious…” a voice next to you sighed, throwing their head into their bound hands. suddenly being kidnapped and thrown into a dark van, incapacitated was the least of your worries.

“riddle?!” you jump back in shock, causing you to bump your head. “ow! what are you doing here?” you rub your scalp.

“if i knew the answer to that question (y/l/n), do you think i would be tied and blinded?” tom whisper yelled. his tone reminding you of the situation you were in, and the possibly dangerous people who put you there.

“not to mention, with you of all people.” he added. you kicked your leg out with intentions to kick him in the shin.

“bloody-“ your companion groaned, folding over grabbing onto his crotch.

“i’m sorry i didn’t mean to-“

“why in my pe-“

“I kicked you?” you paused mid-sip of your hot cocoa, staring at him wide eyed, fighting a laugh.

“yes, you might have killed off a generation of riddles, thanks,” he deadpans, putting down his cup of tea.

“hey shut it the both of you!” a rough voice growled in front of you, making you and tom freeze at the new known presence. your hand grabs onto toms arms instinctively, before you remove it like you had just touched fire muttering an apology. a silence blanketed the van, only the sound of the engine and hushed whispers between the driver and passenger in front.

“ew I touched you?” you grimaced, taking the change from the cashier and thanking her. Tom rolled his eyes.

“do you want to hear the story or not?”

“yeah yeah continue…”

“tom…” you whispered. he hesitated with his natural attitude filled “what?” due to the unusual softness of your voice. were you scared?

“yes?”

“what do you think they want with us?” you breathe.

“i am not completely sure, but there’s only two things you and i share in common…” he responded. you sat in quiet for a few minutes.

“that we’re both hot?”

“wha-“

“do you think they know we’re wizards?” it was toms turn to think.

“i don’t know, maybe”

“maybe they found out i’ve been sneaking fruit from the dining hall…” you think aloud. tom fights a smile in regards of your seriousness.

“(y/n) i don’t think it’s that. maybe go back to the wizard thing…”

“you’re right, they have wands, and they took ours-“

“hello i can hear you” your mean babysitter interrupted.

“wait...I think I remember being pulled out of bed in the middle of the night. I tried making noise, but no one was responding…” you recall, staring at the pavement as you walked on collecting your fuzzy memories. a breeze flew by making your hair fly everywhere, and instinctively you wrapped your arms around yourself.

“silencing charm…” tom finished your thoughts, casually putting his coat on you.

“thanks…” you acknowledge the unusual gesture, taking back the ew you gave him minutes ago.

the van door slid open. the sudden noise causing you to jump. tom sat up straight in dominance.

“remember what we discussed?” tom reminded, referring to the plan he mapped out to you via legilimency minutes before. 

“Eyes, throat, groin…”

“What? No, you are to run-“ toms eyebrows furrowed, careful not to give away how you two were communicating.

“And maybe nipple twist, got it-“

“(Y/l/n)-“

“Wait how did you know I was an occlumens?” You leaned back and stared at tom skeptically. it wasnt a skill you necessarily shared among people you were not friends with, especially not someone who despised you as much as the salazar heir did back in hogwarts. 

He put down the college mug he was looking at, and picked up a planner and skimmed through the pages. “How did you know I was a legilimens?”

“Um you’re tom riddle, everyone knew that back in Hogwarts. What couldn’t you do?” You huffed, stating the obvious, moving to the same fixture he was at, searching for the notebook you saw earlier. you’ve been meaning to buy a new one. your old one was filled up already, you weren’t used to lined paper.

“And you’re (y/n) (y/l/n).” Tom said in the same factual tone, handing you the very item you were thinking of.

“Alright, out you two.” Your captive grunted, scuffing around to stand.

“Are you sick or something? Because your voice does not sound natural…” he ignored your comment as he took you by the arm. You were dragged through what you made off as a forest. You could hear leaves crunching under you and the smell of wet bark invaded your nostrils.

“So this is where I die…” you say dramatically. Tom gives you a look, then walks off.

“I was only joking…”

You were thrown into a chair, beside what you presumed was riddle. you flinched at the bright fluorescents after the sack of snatched off your head. Your assumptions were confirmed when you looked to your right to see a very calm tom looking straight ahead. You knew him better than these people that he was angry.

You looked around you before turning your attention to where his eyes were fixed. You were in some type of warehouse. Five hooded figures stood in a straight line with their hands folded behind their backs, closing in on you two. It was very unsettling the way they were hidden and silent in their robes. they reminded you of dementors. But you knew they were human, because one of them sneezed prior to putting you into the chair.

While you were observing what was going on physically, tom was shifting through each of their minds. the darkness he was prepared for was met with something else. They were wizards yes, but they were not too different from him and (y/n)…toms head snapped to your direction, only to find your chair empty, one of the men hunched over holding his crotch and another grabbing onto his throat as he crumpled to the ground.

“merlin she’s like a gazelle!” the one holding onto his jewels choked out as him and his colleague painfully watched you sprint away from the other three.

“I don’t get it, I got away. Didn’t I?” You were still very confused on how these events linked to you waking up hungover in his bed this morning. it was rush hours, and cars were zooming past you. Tom shoved his hands into his pockets and moved to the other side of you, the closest side to the road.

“I had to stop you.”

“What?”

“(Y/l/n) stop! Let go!” Tom commanded as he continued to try to pull you off the no longer hooded and masked man. The ginger screamed as your thumbs got closer to his eyes.

“They’re college students!” 

“what?” You weakened your hold, the sudden lost of resistance caused your restrainer to fall onto his back, arms still around your middle. You rolled off of tom and looked up to see the damage you have done. Five boys, each one of different nationality, limped their way back to the center.

“We’re kappa delta altoid, and we’d like to welcome you two to recruitment.” The blonde panted in what you recognized as a New Zealand accent. a brunette stood to his feet and put out a hand. You instinctively put yours out but tom quickly pulled it away, staring at the students in disgust. He had read about fraternity hazing before, but not like this, and certainly not how to treat a woman such as yourself. 

“We have heard many things about you two. Top wizard and witch of your class, nearly perfect markings on your NEWTs. We were honored to hear that such members of the wizarding society have decided to pursue muggle higher education.” 

the air was silent and filled with heavy breathing. you stared at them bizarrely, surprised that they would even think you’d say yes after the fright they just pulled.

“Thank you, but no thank you. I would rather keep a low profile while attending-“

“You have no choice. You must join us or we will out you to the muggle society, therefore earning punishment from the Ministry of Magic.” The ginger said in a thick Russian accent, a contrast from the squealing he was doing earlier.

“what? so im part of a fraternity now?” you say in disbelief. this story definitely was not one you were expecting. It sounded like fiction someone came up with 2 am in the morning and typed it out instead of doing homework. tom tossed the rest of your guys’ clothes from last night into the dryer and hit start.

“That would be correct,” he places a baseball cap onto your head, “welcome to kappa delta altoid.”

“More!” You pant, slamming your shot glass onto the table as the members of the house cheered. Tom looked around before tossing the contents of his drink into the house plant beside him. All the attention was on you.

“There’s no more.” one of the boys you recognized from the ritual panicked. You couldn’t tell which one he was because his face looked all blurry.

“What happened to the rest?” You hear the durmstrang graduate ask. The room was spinning around you and all you could hear were the voices.

“She drank it all!”

“Oh my stars that must have been so embarrassing!” You throw your face into your hands. “Why did they have me drink so much?”

“actually...they’re hazing is three shots of fire whiskey…you asked for triple that amount…” it was amazing how you weren’t dead.

“Alright maybe that’s enough, yeah?” tom steadied you with his hands on your shoulders. watching you finally let loose was indeed entertaining, but he began to noticed your coordination going from lack of, to none.

“I feel fine—hey abraxas up top!” you greeted the blonde from the kidnapping stunt. Not even recognizing you called him a name he had never heard before he swung his hand to meet your high five, but he was so disoriented he fell forward onto the folding party table. it caved in, earning gasps and looks from others, but the frat brother fell asleep like that.

“Oh no our table…”

“Ah I see, now that does make a lot of sense actually…” you nodded in remembrance of the dream you woke up from. “And my pants?”

“Your pants?” Tom looked at you puzzled, looking down at the article of clothing he was folding. Realizing what you meant, he handed you the jeans you wore last night. “Oh, right…”

“this is so embarrassing, im sorry I threw up on you…” you muttered sleepily as riddle sat you down on his bed.

“you threw up on yourself actually…id bring you to your dorm, but I dont want you to accidentally suffocate…” he responded, taking a navy blue shirt and grey sweats out and placing it at the foot of the bed. 

“Here you go—okay maybe wait until I leave the room—“ he turned back around as you changed. tom picked up the pants before holding it out behind him to continue to give you privacy. when you didn’t take them he hesitantly looked. you were passed out on his bed, halfway falling off. he thought about putting the pants on you, but decided it was too weird, so he just put you on your side and tucked you in. 

that night, tom slept in the lounge, and every hour he checked to make sure you were okay. only because he didn’t want to be responsible if you died, of course. 

i have no idea how greek life names work so i literally named them after a breathmint.

read hierarchy of need by iimplicity if you haven’t 😩😩

happy christmas tom (t.m.r.)

merry christmas everyone! here’s a short lil something. ❄️🎁

“what is this?” tom stared at the box with a raised eyebrow.

“a gift.” you smiled eagerly.

“we have discussed this, (y/l/n)—no gifts.” your arm holding the red box dropped, along with your smile. you rolled your eyes, following him to his window where he shut the blinds. with the flick of his hand the fireplace lit a flame.

“but it’s christmas…” you said quietly, already knowing that it was a weak argument.

“no christmas presents…” tom fluffed the pillows on his bed.

“a teddy bear!” five year old tom exclaimed gleefully, throwing the wrapping paper aside.

“mine!” his childhood bully at the orphanage named graham snatched the toy out of his hands.

this pretty much became an annual thing.

“a boomerang-“ seven year old tom smiled, only for graham to hold out his hand expectedly. the scrawny brunette placed the wooden toy into his palm.

eventually the young wizard learned how to accept it.

“a book…here you go graham…” ten year old tom sighed disappointed. only this time, tom managed to send an electric shock through the older boys body when he opened the book.

“yeah, yeah,” you waved off, slipping under the green covers shivering as your skin met the cold silk sheets. “i just thought this time would be an exception, you know…because we’re together now.”

tom sighed through his nostrils, getting onto his side of the bed. he wrapped his arm around you and rested his chin on your head. “sleep well,” he whispered, planting a kiss into your hairline.

“good night,” you responded, snuggling closer to his chest. despite thinking that he had moved on from the subject, tom stayed up thinking while you slept. eventually he followed suit—your soft breathing and scent lulling him to sleep.

as per usual, you woke up and tom was gone. his everyday routine consisted of waking up at an unnecessarily early hour to study and complete prefect duties. you couldn’t help but notice that the gift he had rejected last night was missing from the nightstand.

a smile appeared on your face, as it would again at the slytherin table during breakfast where you would see tom pull the diary out casually to take note of something.

diary of a witchy kid (t.m.r.)

summary: tomothy chalamets diary falls into the wrong hands…or maybe even the right ones… 

happy new years eve/new years! be safe out there. this blog is only four months old and I have enjoyed my stay so far. thank you for the encouraging messages and post appreciations y'all send! omg I can now say I have internet friends because growing up my immigrant parents wouldn't let me have any ahdkfhsfhs 

here’s my attempt at a little more serious fic but it’s not sad or anything just leaning more toward early scheming/taking over the world tom who can’t identify what a crush is ^.^

when avery dropped the book on the table, your eyes nearly bulged out of your skull. tom had a diary? in unison, lestrange, nott, and abraxas moved back in their chairs as if it were a bomb.

“avery what the bloody f*ck?” the blonde looked up at him, “what do you think you’re doing with that thing?”

“i can feel the evil oozing out of its pages…” nott whispered dramatically, grabbing onto reinhard lestranges robes while eyeing the book. you stared at the inanimate item innocently sitting in the middle of the study table. black leather. gold letters of tom marvolo riddle branded as its title. it wasn’t cracking with electricity around it, it didn’t open up to have teeth like the monster book of monsters, and there was no aura around it indicating a hex. why was everyone treating it like a cursed item?

“i thought you lot might’ve been more amused.” averys excited grin had vanished long ago. “there’s got to be hundreds of secrets-“

“except this is toms diary,” lestrange reminded, lightly pulling nott of of him to readjust his collar. “he’ll kill us if he catches us.“

you have never talked to the man the myth the legend one on one. you were new to the school this year, new to slytherin, but he didn’t seem to mind you as an addition to the group, though he never went out of his way to talk to you either. you assumed that being second ranked and distantly related to nott made you tolerable. consequently, your knowledge of tom was small. he was quiet, kept to himself, somewhat dark, and seemed to have a dominant presence over your new friends.

“when who catches you?” a flat voice appeared behind abraxas. your instincts reactively changing the diary into another book. hopefully he didn’t notice.

“merlin, he moves like a prius…” you mumbled to yourself.

“when uh…ravenclaw uh…catches these hands the next match!” nott grinned nervously. your eyes shifted toward your second cousin, curious to see how a situation like this would play out.

“ah, yes, the last one was,” lestrange coughed, “not our best.” the most recent ravenclaw game ended with avery in the hospital wing when a bludger dislocated his shoulder. rather than guarding, he was lost in a trance staring at athena lovegood smiling and waving at him in the stands. 

you watched the boys intently, dead still in their seats, anxious about the little leather book mocking them as it sat idly on the wooden surface. what was so terrifying about him?

tom didn’t respond. luckily for them, he didn’t care about quidditch. the tension is everyone’s shoulders relaxed as he turned around and ran his fingers along the spines of the books.

“i see…” he said dryly. in a panick abraxas snatched the diary off the table and tossed it to avery.

“put it back where you found it,” he whispered.

“no way, he’ll skin me!” avery deflected the task to nott, throwing it to him. nott gripped it by its spine as he glanced over his shoulder to tom who was distracted by the shelf, flipping through one of the books.

“oh hell no!” he passed it to lestrange, but before it could even land from its flight in the air, the slytherin flicked his wand, sending the book into your chest.

“no!” your arms wrapped around it instinctively, the force nearly knocking you out of the wooden chair. not sure what to do, you shoved the diary under your jumper. why did they have to involve you?

“is something wrong, (y/l/n)?” tom asked, returning the book to its spot. you froze on the spot. it might’ve been the first time he had acknowledged you by name.

“no.” you responded.

“then why did you say no?”

“me? i didn’t say that.” riddle quirked an eyebrow at you. to the average persons eye, you were your average teenage girl—good grades, gets along well with peers, but there was something else. and it wasn’t just your grades. you were effortlessly likeable by peers, charming even. professors liked calling on you and offering you more challenging work, treatment only tom received. yet of all the groups you could have inserted yourself in, you chose his. and they gladly accepted you. why? something was different, off even, but he didn’t look into it because it didn’t seem to pose as a threat. deep down, you reminded tom of himself and he didn't know how to feel about it.

“i am confident you did.”

“oh, it’s because lestrange asked if i’d be his girlfriend, so i said no.” the corner of your mouth twitched in amusement. it wasn’t much, but seeing reinhard lestrange get flustered was revenge in it of itself.

“is that true, lestrange?” tom asked.

“….yes…” he sighed in defeat, sending a deathly glare your way.

“tough…” the salazar heir tsk’d, nearly letting a grin slip at the thought of you rejecting lestrange.

*.*.*.*

the following days were surpringly not awful. tom didn’t seem to notice his missing diary, and if he did you weren’t a suspect. you didn’t know exactly what to do with it. slipping into the head boys room and placing it in a “misplaced” area was stupid. tom didn’t seem like the person to misplace things, so he would definitely get suspicious— that is if he didn’t already sense someone forcefully entered his dwelling. avery claimed that he found the diary wedged in one of toms unattended textbooks during a late night study session. surely, you could put it back into one of his books if you got close enough. you just had to get the timing right.

while you waited for that window, you read the diary. accidentally, that is.

the third day after the hot potato journal in the library, your elbow knocked over your stack of books while writing your divinations essay, the book fell open.

june 22

i hate coming back here every summer…

no, this is wrong... you shut the diary and think for a minute. 

to read this is public that is. 

you have never ran to your room so quick, which was fortunately empty.

june 22

i hate coming back here every summer. the moment i step into wools orphanage i search for the nearest spoon to kill myself with.

yikes, starting off strong i see.

june 23

madam spinsky has me washing the floorboards like orphan annie. my welcome back present from “my vacation” at “boarding school”.

june 25

abraxas has invited me to the stay at the manor. his father will take care of my transportation. maybe i’ll put the spoon down for this summer.

each entry was short, but enough to put together the important parts of tom riddle. he was an orphan, a master charismatic, and most importantly-- wizard prodigy whose talents went beyond hogwarts curriculum. he seemed to always be scheming, sought after something larger. but rather than be frightened, you were intrigued.

september 1

there is a new girl. she is attractive.

you shut the book close, eyes wide. you look up finding a 5’5 brown haired girl in pajamas.

“janey, hi,” you say breathlessly. how long has your roommate been standing there? what time was it?

“are you alright, (y/n)? you’re sweating.” she stared in concern. her eyes fell to the book in your hands, smartly disguised as a romance novel. your eyes followed.

“steamy chapter,” you grin sheepishly. not the proudest of lies you have ever told, but it did the trick.

“oh, right…” she smiles awkwardly, cheeks going red. janey proceeded to slip under covers and kill the light in her bedside lantern. from the corner of the room you were sitting in you looked around and realized your two other roommates were also fast asleep.

the next day you went to the one person you could trust.

“what the bloody hell-“ nott cursed as he felt something grip onto his ankle. “oh sh-“ he was cut off by his fall to the ground and screamed as he was dragged underneath the table.

“(y/n)! you lunatic! you ever think of contacting me, i don’t know… literally any other way?” he exhaled.

“yeah yeah whatever, i’m hiding from riddle remember. anyway, look at this…” you opened the diary.

october 4

myrtle elizabeth warren grinds my gears.

you flipped forward a couple of pages as your cousins eye brows furrowed at the sheets of paper.

october 14

(y/n) (y/l/n) did wandless magic when she thought she was alone. she might be of use.

“this one,” you pointed to the entry. “what does it mean?” nott moved closer, taking the book and bringing it up to a more comfortable eye level.

“(y/n), this page is blank.”

“hardy har har you’re a real jester, nott.” you rolled your eyes. but the concerned look on his face told you he wasn’t joking. you took the diary back and looked down at the words that were 100% there. not worried, you flipped through the pages. they were all filled.

“they’re all blank. i believe you, but i don’t see anything.” well at least he didn’t think you were crazy.

“interesting…” you whisper to yourself. returning the book was pushed even further in the back of your mind. it was one thing to want to avoid tom because of a school boy crush, but another if he was plotting something and wanted you involved.

that night you were finishing the last two weeks of entries. tom had stopped writing five days prior to Avery taking it. he talked about a chamber, but didn’t go into detail. despite feeling like you have gotten to know tom on a deeper level that any other student has (with exception to his friends), it still felt like the diary was reserved. it seems that tom riddle didn’t even trust himself enough. rightfully so i guess, because what has two thumbs and read the whole thing? this guyyy...

after october 28, the last entry, you turned the page. just cuz.

give it back

ummm that doesn’t make sense. maybe we’re seeing things. you flipped the page back to october 28, then back to the next.

the ink seemed to be appearing as if an invisible hand were writing.

i know you have it, whoever you are

with that, you shut the diary and put all your books in your enchanted bag, slinging it over your shoulder. the diary was where it always was—tucked in your waistband under your jumper. you swiftly made your way out of the back of the library scanning your path as you walked briskly.

“you…” a voice spoke from down the corridor. your head whipped to the left seeing a very familiar head boy stalking his way toward you. you were lost in shock, the library door closing with a thud woke you up.

“expelliarmus!” you waved your hand sending the wand flying out of his hand, anticipating that he might stun you. distracted for half a second from astonishment, you made a run for it. your mary janes pounded the stone floor as you sprinted down the corridor. you were sure riddle went to retrieve his wand, giving you a few seconds as a head start. but soon enough, you heard his footsteps coming after you.

“(y/l/n)!” your heart was beating in your ears as you felt your abdomen burn. the sensation grew to your chest as you pumped your legs even farther. eventually you found yourself heading toward the astronomy tower. “stop running!” you could sense him getting closer.

“expelliarmus!” the clink of the wooden object smacking against the wall distracted him again. “and stop doing that!”

you reached the top of the tower. the midnight chill hitting your face. you wrapped your arms around yourself in an attempt to shield yourself from the cold, slowing down as you realized there was no where else to run. you had to face whatever was to come.

tom caught himself against the wall as he made his way to the top of the steps. wand in hand.

defensively you brought yours up, prepared to duel.

“what are you doing?” tom looked at you blankly, now approaching you.

“locomotor mortis!” you chanted. he blocked it effortlessly.

“stupefy!” deflected. he keeper moving forward.

“expelli-“ a sharp breath passed your lips as you felt your upper body tip back. your upper and lower body teetering, your lower back keeping the balance against the ledge. tom grabbed onto your forearms pulling you toward him. you gasp, slowly looking up at him. why didn’t he let you fall, or push you even?

“aren’t you going to kill me?” you whispered. there haven’t been many times you have seen a a fully expressed emotion on tom riddles face. but if you weren’t quaking in your boots at the moment, you’d be more surprised at his stunned expression.

“breaking curfew isnt exactly the most heinous of crimes, (y/l/n).” your face dropped along with the tenseness in your body. 

oh. well this is awkward.

“why did you chase me then?” you looked at him like accusingly.

“because you ran first, and disarmed me before doing so.” he narrowed his eyes, “and correct me if i’m wrong (y/n), but you have been avoiding me this past week.” you gulp nervously. you have never had a personal conversation with the wizard, nonetheless be this close to him. it was beginning to feel overwhelming.

his breath was cool, you can smell mints as it fanned your face. his grip was strong on your arms, and his chest was inches from touching yours. tom sensed your unease and used it toward his advantage.

“what are you hiding?” he asked in a lower tone, pulling you closer to him. your noses were nearly touching now. tom looked down between you two.

“what is this?”

the diary.

before you could react, tom guided his hand down to the hem of your jumper. you froze still. his eyebrows were furrowed, watching his own movements. the moment his fingers met the grooves and texture of the leather bound book, his eyes shot up to yours, piercing into them. tom leaned into you more, holding the diary up beside his head. you inhaled sharply. wow he smells nice.

“you are able read it,” he mused, grinning.

“indeed” was all you could breathe out. even in the most terrifying of times your responses were always entertaining to him. you didn’t even deny it.

was he not surprised that you had it this whole time? was he even looking for it? would it even matter if it became lost if no one could read it? hotel? trivago.

“no one should be able to read it, but you can…” tom studied your face. it was an enchanted diary, made specifically for the owner and the owners eyes only. “i knew there was something about you (y/n) (y/l/n).”

it appears this diary was trouble this whole time, just in a different way the slytherin boys have warned about. it’s one thing to be an enemy of tom riddle, but something else to be of his interest.

instant family (t.m.r.)

parent figure tom? pretty short with a lil sum sum at the end. there’s not enough dad!tom content so I tried to make my own. dad!tom makes me think of two people-- edward father cullen (first part) and Klaus daddy michaelson (second part). anyway...

“hand me the child.” you would have happily obliged if the crying baby wasn’t already seized from your arms. you were about to go off on him, but the site in front of you softened the crease in between your eyebrows. strong forearms cradling the length of the baby’s body, and a hand impressively supporting the neck and head. you have never seen tom so delicate, yet protective. it was almost funny seeing tom and his tall ass self with such a small little thing.

“you do small bounces,” tom demonstrated, the infants cries lowering to heavy breaths of sniffles.

your pride usually would’ve gotten the best of you, pushing you to say something along the lines of not needing toms help. the first two days he avoided the child like it had the plague. he didn’t even want to take in silas in the first place.

“please tom, walburga is my friend, and you know how her family is. the Black family won’t have a scandal. the baby has nowhere to go!” he finally agreed, but made it clear he wanted nothing to do with the baby. you knew what you were getting into. tom not being the biggest fan of children was never news. he didn’t hate them, but he didn’t seem like one to volunteer at a nursery either. maybe it was because he was forced to be around them growing up at Wool’s…that’s what you figured.

“and white noise, they like that,” he added, voice no louder than a whisper, eyes focused on silas’ face the whole time. you stood there mouth gaping like a fish. the baby had been bawling for hours. you tried feeding him, shaking his one toy left from his mother, and nothing seemed to satisfy him for more than two minutes. he did seem to have fun pulling on your hair until he nearly scalped you, forcing you to open his little hand. that’s what really upset him. and here comes tom riddle who apparently not only talks to snakes but also speaks baby.

“how are you so good at this?” you spoke softly, mimicking toms tone. you gently placed a hand on his shoulder to take a peek at the baby who was fighting sleep as if he had other places to be.

“at the orphanage, there was a newborn named gabriel.” the words came out of toms mouth effortlessly. the few times he talked about his time in london were not of detail. and he was usually much more guarded and careful with his delivery. “because of the war, the orphanage didn’t have the staff to take in another child, especially an infant. so i looked after him,” silas coo’d and stretched his small arms, twisting in toms arms. he settled down soon after, sleep winning.

you were lost at words. tom didn’t like sympathy he saw it as pity. you didn’t want to push more questions either. his vulnerability to talk about Wools was enough really.

“thank you for sharing that with me my love,” the best you could do, as you leaned into his arm watching the baby’s sleeping form. tension released from toms shoulders.

“rest now, syphilis,” he whispered, running a hand over the infants small head. you smiled at his affection, then lifted your head abruptly to look at your partner.

“tom, his name is silas…”

“oh.”

bonus headcannon 

in another life where tom is not so experienced and has a son

tom as a new parent was interesting. he may have read every book in the library on parenting, but let’s be real, nothing could ever fully prepare one for a baby. “oh no, no stop crying. y-y/n! come here! it’s crying!” he panicked, relief crossing his face the moment you walked in.“it??”

but seeing tom not being perfectly good at something was amusing. well, maybe not for him though...“it’s not going on,” tom says says in between grunts. he was currently trying to twist the baby’s foot into the shoe. his son just sat there like a sack of potato’s staring down at his father helplessly. “and he’s not even helping!”

although he did get frustrated at times, tom riddle discovered that parenthood is not a task, but rather a journey. and there were definitely rewards in addition to being a dad. “you should’ve seen it, he was crawling!” you dropped your bag onto the couch and walked toward him. “really?! where i wanna see!” tom grinned excitedly. “right over…oh no where did he go…” tom whipped his head around looking for the toddler. the familiar mop of curly black hair was spotted near the staircase, crawling at superhero speed. “no no no stairs is next week’s lesson!”

of course, what is a riddle heir without a father that wishes nothing but success for their child? “my son, one day you will rule the masses…” he spoke softly to the one year old passed out in his arms. “tom…” you warned.

Tom riddle size kink head canon

Cw: explicit content, nsfw, pure filth, fingering and what not. this is a @1-800-amortentia headcanon what the fuck did you expect.

DID...DID ZADA JUST...P-POST ?!

I have a Tom book! (My wattpad is 1-800-waves.) go read!

Tom taglist: @juniebugg @quindolyn @fiftyshadesoftricia @teenwolfbitches28 @elmarrymepls @haroldpotterson @percyweasleyspuff @hazelryl @talksoprettyjjx

(To be removed/update your username, please dm me!)

!Dont repost my work unless it is reblogging!

Short hc to get back in the rhythm. I MISSED YALL???? SO MUCH????????

In my mind, Tom is tall

Which kinda adds to the dramatic effect of him being evil.

Anyways, you’ve always had a quiet noticeable size difference (even if you’re tall, doesn’t matter. I’m literally 5’8)

And honestly, it made his knees go weak. He loved the difference so much.

Just boosted his ego that much more.

It started out as little things or nicknames, not just during sex but in your day to day life.

Like you asking to get something off the top shelf because you knew he’d poke fun at you for it.

Your hand difference was another thing. He had long slender fingers, which were laughable in comparison to your that were like two inches shorter than his.

Back with the self thing, it came to a point where if you asked, he would get it, then just finger you in that position to prove his point of power and dominance over you.

And the first few times you had sex were...interesting.

“Too big for you, hm? Cant handle it?”

And he adored the way you’d gag when you tried to go down on him.

In a creepy way.

The noise just made him want to cum right then and there.

He’d definitely throw you around and treat you like a toy every chance he got.

And he’d remind you of it too.

“Jus’ my little toy hm? Made just for me to fuck you.”

THE NICKNAMES TOO.

Baby, little one, pet, bunny, dove, angel etc etc

100% picks you up during make out sessions

Which leads to him fucking you as he hold you against the wall.

He’s always hated you saying curse words.

He wants to keep you pure.

I mean, that’s why he does what he does.

To make the world better for you.

“Ah, shit!”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I didn’t mean to I-“

“Nope, come here.”

Making you suck him off til he was satisfied.

“Your mouth is much too pretty to be using such foul, dirty words. Might as well put your busy mouth to work, hm?”

He’d hex anyone that brings up or makes fun of your height difference though.

Like one of his death eaters.

Before class Tom bent down to kiss you and this twat saw

“Oi, y/n, next time you have to kiss Tom, just punch him in the stomach so you can reach.”

The MOMENT that he let it slip from his mouth, he regretted it.

Tom glared at him.

“What’s the supposed to mean?” You’d ask innocently, almost defeated.

“Yes, goyle, what is that supposed to mean?” Tom asked.

“I just meant like you know since she’s shorter and smaller.”

“Get out.”

“Yes sir”

Man goyle did not hear the end of that for awhile

“I’m sorry...”

“What? Sorry for what?”

“I don’t know why he said that...should you not bend down?”

“Ignore him, hm? He’s not worth it.”

Tom would never admit it, but he loves when you attempt to spoon him.

Your legs fully wrapped all the way around his torso, same with your arms.

Youre like a backpack

Forehead kisses constantly.

Chin kisses for him.

He’d disapprove of you wearing heels honestly. Especially after the goyle incident.

“Ready to go- wait”

“Yes?”

“Why are you 5 inches taller?”

“So you don’t have to bend down.”

“Take them off.”

Yeah you’re definitely in for it after that.

He’d be upset if you tried to change yourself for someone else, especially one of HIS followers.

Definitely very rough degrading and edging.

BUT THE AFTER CARE.

He’s never taken such good care of you.

I mean, he loves taking care of his baby, but it felt different.

Baths,extra bubbles, pajamas, and face masks.

And of course, cuddling.

“I love you little one.”

“I love you too, Tommy.”

Night Time Adventures

Tom Riddle x Reader

~★~❤︎~✦~

You slipped out of the Slytherin common room, avoiding the prefects roaming the hallways. The walk to the library was quiet besides the tapping of your shoes against the floor. In the distance you could hear other people walking around. You silently cursed yourself when the library door made a loud creek echoing down the hallway. Someone was bound to have that so you quickly slipped into the library. The library was covered in darkness, the only source of light being candles. They littered the walls leaving the room in a hazy glow. 

Making your way over to the books shelves, trailing your hand over a few books. Your eyes struggled slightly to focus on the writing on the old books. looking for the proper place for the book you held. Once you found it you slipped the book back into place before letting your eyes scan over the rest of the books looking for your next escape. As you gaze over the books in front of you a warm breath hits the back of your neck. You freeze slightly but quickly snap out of it going to turn around but his cold hands wrap around your waist locking you in place. 

Another breath bit your neck this time followed by his voice. “Someones out late” a deep voice filled the air, it sent a shiver down your spine. 

“Just returning a book you?“ 

“Catching up on some reading“ it was quiet for a moment before you managed to turn in his hold. Moving away from him and heading for the library door once more. Before you could get too far he grabbed your wrist pulling you back into him. 

“Aw love don’t be like that” this time he flips you around pinning you against the bookshelves. 

“Tom like you mentioned before it's late so I must be going” you tried to get out of his hold  but his grip on you tightened. He used his whole body to pin you against the shelves. There was no way you were going to get away. 

“I do love when you play hard to get“ he gripped your chin forcing you to lock eyes with him. He tilts your head slightly before slamming his lips against yours. Kissing him back right away you run a hand through his hair pulling him closer to you. His lips trail down to my neck placing kisses and nipping at my skin. 

“Tom careful with marks“ you moaned. You loved the feeling of his lips trialing on your neck. You couldn’t do the marks though no one could know about yours and Tom's Nighttime visits. 

“I’m conflicted, your mouth says no but your body says yes“ he says in between kisses. His hands trail down your body pulling on your shirt and unbuttoning your top. You start to do the same to him making quick work of removing his shirt. Once we are both shirtless he trails kisses up my neck mumbling in my ear to jump. You don’t hesitate jumping up and wrapping your legs around him. He carries you over to a table. Your back collides with the wood of the table causing a chill to go over you. 

He stands in between your legs letting his hands wander up your body. One of his hands reaches beneath you unclasping your bra leaving your chest bare. His mouth latches on to your nipple right away. You moan at the feeling arching your back into him. He used one of his hands to pin you down while his other one encased your other boob. Rolling the nipple between his fingers. You can feel your panties getting wetter by the minute. He switched his mouth to your other boob letting the hand that was playing with your nipple trail down your body. His fingers trailed under your skirt. Trailing his finger over underwear taking notice of your wet patch right away. “Already dripping” he chuckled against your neck. He moved your underwear to the side before pushing two fingers inside of you. The stretch felt amazing. You start rolling your hips against his fingers moaning at the feeling. 

Your moans grew louder as he fucked you with his fingers curling them just right. Hitting that perfect spot inside you makes your toes curl. “Darling I love all the sounds you make but I need you to be quiet or we will be caught” you nod your head but you were barely listening. As your moans got louder Tom wrapped his hand around your throat squeezing just enough to make it difficult to breathe. He could feel you tighten around his fingers making him let out a small groan. Your orgasm came crashing down on you, a silent moan falling from your lips. 

Tom removed his fingers from you once you came down from your high. You sat up leaning back on your elbows watching as he brought his fingers to his mouth sucking them clean all while keeping eye contact with you. Watching him clean your arousal off his fingers. You sat up meeting his face before standing up. Your legs are shaky but you keep going. Lowering yourself down to your knees in front of Tom. His eyes are locked on you watching closely as you unzip his pants, lowering them down with his boxers, freeing his erection. “What a good girl” the praise went straight to your core. 

“Only for you” your eyes are locked on his erection, no matter how many times you see it the size surprises you. How he fits in you is a mystery to you. Your hand was barely able to wrap around him. You started by stroking him off at a light pace. Picking it up when Tom gripped your hair giving you a warning look. Tom hated when you teased him yet you could help but do it. You kitten lick his tip only placing the tip in your mouth. You lick up his length, placing teasing kisses on his length. Going back to his tip you place it back in your mouth swirling his tongue around his tip. 

Tom was fed up with your teasing grabbing the back of your head and slamming your head forward making you take all of his dick. You gagged around him your hands flying up to his thighs bracing your self as he face fucked you. His pace was brutal as he used your mouth. Your gagging caused no hesitance in his motions, not even your tearing eyes made him stop. “You asked for this baby”

Before he could cum he pulled you off his dick allowing you to finally breathe. He pulled you off the ground helping you to sit back up at the table. He slips his member into making you moan. He mumbled something about wanting to cum inside you. His pace was brutal, his hand was playing with your clit, His other hand had to cover your mouth as your moans grew louder by the minute. You felt your orgasm approaching, pulling Tom closer to you and placing kisses over his exposed skin. You felt him cum inside of you moaning at the feeling of his cum inside of you. The feeling made you cum tightening around his dick, pulling even more cum from him.   

You whimper as he pulls out of you leaving you feeling empty. He helped you clean up before getting dressed himself. You watched as he put his robes back on. A smile grew on your face. You loved him more than words can describe. “See something you like” you could hear the teasing in his tone. 

“Yeah I do“ a blush forms on your face when he walks over to you helping you off the table. He places a light kiss on your lips when he went to pull away you grabbed a hold of his face pulling him back. You could feel him chuckle against your lips moving your hands from his face and pulling away from you. He placed a kiss on your hands. The two of you stood there for a moment just staring at each other. He pulls away first telling you the two of you should head back before someone catches them. You nod the two of you wanted to stay longer but you both knew you had to go back. 

“Come on love“ he grabbed your hand leading you out of the library.