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anhydrousromance · 2 months ago

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show me how | tom riddle

pairing: tom riddle x reader

genre: fluff? angst? unrequited crushes but not really, love confessions, first kiss, complicated feelings???

wc: 1.2k

originally posted on AO3: 23/02/2023

You like Tom Riddle. Like like like. Like fancy him like. You knew that. And you think he knows it too.

It's not like you actively tried to hide it, if he knew about it then that's that. If he doesn't then that's another path that readily available for you to take.

"Hmm?" You hummed, Tom had called for your attention earlier but you weren't exactly focused on what he was saying. Your eyes met his, now wide and curious as to what he had to say. "What is it?"

"Are you okay?" He asks.

And the words sound so foreign coming from between his lips that you thought for a split second that you weren't speaking to Tom himself.

"Yeah," you murmur softly, nodding as he process the words in as a clear lie. If Tom had been a more expressive person, he'd be frowning, but he wasn't, so instead he settled on pursing his lips. "Don't worry about it."

Tom was conceived under a love potion. He can't love. And one would think that that was enough of a reason to not have feelings for the guy but you were stupid enough to do it nonetheless.

"You're lying," he states, his brows furrowed the slightest bit. "Why are you lying?"

"It's nothi—" You stop, tearing your eyes away from his to stare down at your hands. And after a second, you huff, looking back at him once more. "—Do you think that you could grow to love someone?"

And that was when it clicked into place for Tom. You, the only person he was able to tolerate and or considers as his only friend, fancied him.

He thinks for a bit, mulling the idea over and over. Tom is used to the act by now, he would get confessed to then he would promptly turn it down because, quite frankly, he doesn't give a shit what others think of him.

But with you. He doesn't know what to do with you.

"I think you should get something to eat," he says instead, another action that was so foreign of him to do. "Come on."

Tom was never one to avoid confrontation in any shape or form and always made sure that the person who confessed to him knew their place. But you were his friend, and he doesn't know how to tell you where you were placed on the list of things that occupied his mind.

Tom stands up awkwardly by the library's table, a place you've been frequenting with him lately. And watched as you made no move in gathering your things.

"Have you ever loved anything?" You ask him quietly, grateful that you've found the table furthest from any possible commotion.

Tom says your name sternly. You knew he didn't like to talk about this topic, a wall having been put up and never once crossed during the years of friendship in which you've known him. "I think we should go."

"And I think you should tell me that you can't love me back," you counter. "Just so I could move on."

Tom stays silent, his head going dizzy at the look on your face, staring up at him from your seat with your pupil blown wide with admiration. You not only liked him. You loved him.

"I'm not going to care for you any less when you tell me no," you say to him. Tom reaches over and grabs at your things, packing it as he quietly listens to you. "You're still my friend."

Friends. His stomach drops at the words. He doesn't want to be your friend. He doesn't know what he wants, he just knows that he didn't want to be just that. But he will not give you false hope by lying to you. So he tells you, like you've asked of him: "I can't love you."

It takes you two beats before you smile at him, finally putting away your things, your own hand brushing against his cold ones as you stuffed your supplies into your bag. Tom considers for a second if he should hold it for you. You know, as an apologetic gift.

But he decides not to, and watches as the straps drapes over your shoulder, digging into your skin uncomfortably.

"You know," you start as you walked out the library besides him. "I don't think I've ever seen you smile."

Tom steps slows, matching with your own and with knitted brows he asks. "What do you mean?"

"I can't remember how you smile," you say with a small smile of your own. "Show me how, will you?"

Tom blinks. He thinks back to his life in the orphanage, to the basilisk under the chamber, Moaning Myrtle, the things he did to Hagrid, everything he has done so far that you've had zero clue of and feels to guilty too lift the corner of his lips up. He just can't do it.

"If you can't show me how you love, Tom," you say. "Then the least you could do was show me how you smile."

He doesn't say anything, just watching you as your eyes flickered between his lips and any of his other features. You were shorter than him, and he thinks he likes it this way.

He thinks of you, how you look at him, how you speak to him, how you've dreamt up visions of who he'd never be, and how he —for the first time ever in his life, feel the love you have for him. And how when he does smiles, a small sigh slips out of him.

You notice then the corner of his lips curving upwards, the small squint of his eyes, the scrunch on his high nose bridge, and the dip of dimples in his cheeks, poking through clearer than ever before. Your thoughts err away, and you let your heart fall in love with Tom again.

You smile back, reciprocating his and somehow his only grew. A blissful glint reaching his eyes, as he mirrored you. You tilt your head to the side, only realising now that you two came to halt, and signalled for him to follow after you. "Let's go."

You didn't get far, cold hand wrapping around your wrist and held you in place. You look back at him with a questioning look and you could see Tom contemplate with himself.

"I'm going to kiss you."

"What?"

Tom didn't repeat himself, his lips pressing onto yours with his free hand gently cupping your face, the coldness melting into the heat of your flushed cheeks. Cold. Cold. Cold. You kissed him back, letting yourself enjoy this moment while it lasted with an ache in your heart. Tom pulls away, hand still cupping your face as his thumb slides down to your chin and lifts it up so you would look at him.

"I want to learn to love you," he says slowly. "Please."

A smile etched its way onto your lips, and it doesn't go unnoticed by Tom since he has to physically restrain himself from kissing you again and again. Tom awaited for your words, and as he thinks that he'll finally get an answer to his semi-love confession.

You ask him instead, "why are your hands so cold?"

—from bee: writing my favorite slytherin to my favorite song, may be OOC tom but who caresssssss,, i love him for ittt.

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anhydrousromance · 2 months ago

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Cinnamon-Sugar Milk - Part 1

Pairing: Tom Riddle x Reader (romantic)

Summary: Tom adopts a kitten. However, this kitten may be more than he bargained for…

Warnings: 3rd person pov, 1940s timeline, Potter!reader, Gryffindor!reader, fem!reader, small!reader, unintentional deceit, illegal animagus, platonic petting, a small age gap (1~ year), food and drink mention (milk & cat food) (brief mention of eating cat animagus/cannibalism?), brief mention of needing to use the restroom (because of excessive milk consumption), joking about throwing oneself off the astronomy tower (if you squint), slight OOC Tom, & cursing (language-wise).

Date: December 2024

Masterlist

Patrols were tedious. But as prefect and potential Head Boy the following year, they were a necessary task. Students sneaking around after curfew were always up to no good, and when it was with another student with the intentions of snogging in a hidden corridor, Tom Riddle hated it even more. Affection was disgusting and the blatant, vulgar display of it was even worse. At the risk of house points and reputation, Tom Riddle could never understand such degrading impulsions.

But here he was once again, scolding the second idiotic couple that night before sending them on their way back to their respective common rooms. He proceeded on with his patrol route, shaking his head in disgust once again.

At least the patrols provided a good excuse to note the layout of the castle - providing further knowledge of potential secret passageways and hidden alcoves. And of course, giving him more ideas on how to carry out his plans in the Chamber of Secrets. There were several spots that would allow the basilisk a way to enter the castle before exiting back into the Chamber through the pipe system. Everyone at Hogwarts would be none the wiser. And amidst the panic and confusion, his control of the pure blood hierarchy would strengthen and would amass all the more followers and support. Thus accumulating more power and solidifying his place in high society before he even left the halls of Hogwarts.

Thankfully, he was assigned the route closest to the girls bathroom and opening to the Chamber of Secrets in the following week. Scoping out beforehand in the early weeks of the new school year would be both essential and beneficial to his plans.

But as Tom Riddle continued down the hall, scheming and plotting as he went, he was unaware that his inevitable downfall lied just yards away - haven just transformed for the first time, complete with a stubby, triangular tail, the tiniest of toe beans, and a raging appetite for sweetened milk.

“Mew?”

The soft, questioning sound echoed off the corridor walls, causing the 6th year prefect to stop mid step.

He tilted his head, listening once more.

“MEW!!!” A panicked cry came once more.

Tom tensed, once more disgruntled.

Snogging teenagers are one things, but if I see a couple of pet cats -

He turned the corner, correct is his assumption about a frantic cat, but not quite right in context…

There, in the far corner of an indented wall, behind a large statue - an area big enough for a first year to hide effectively - was a tiny kitten. It was curled up and crying as it waved its tiny paws around in a state of panic.

Tom stilled, watching the kitten have a tantrum for a solid minute. The small creature seemed to have not noticed his presence in its state. Tom took note of how it appeared to be barely a week or two old and poorly underdeveloped. And even more, it was without a collar.

His eye twitched. All pet cats were required to be fixed before their owners arrived at the school. And if someone’s cat had arrived pregnant and had abandoned the runt…

The sad kitten soon turned to whimpering, seemingly tired from its crying.

Tom’s resolve began to crack, giving way for pity and, against his will, sympathetic understanding. The pathetic thing was clearly rejected by its parents and abandoned to die in the wilderness of Hogwarts halls - no doubt to be trampled on by hundreds of uncaring students and left to die in some lonesome corner.

With a deep sigh, Tom knelt and grasped the kitten by the scruff of its neck, holding it up to look it in the face.

The small creature’s fighting spirit seemed to come back with a vengeance. It frantically squirmed in his hold, raking its minuscule claws and tiny fangs against whatever it could reach - but, of course, not even landing a scratch on the prefect’s pale skin.

Tom looked at the wiggling thing in his hold, relatively unimpressed, but amused all the same.

“Quite spirited, aren't you?”

Tom nearly let out a soft laugh as the kitten stilled and confusedly looked up - with eyes much too big for its head.

“Mew?”

He could not hold back a chuckle this time. Shaking his head with a gentle sigh, he decided his next course of action.

If he was being honest with himself - like he often never was when it came to emotions and vulnerabilities - he had always wanted a pet. When he had first received his letter and Dumbledore took him to acquire his supplies, he had no money of his own to do so and the professor did well to remind him of this burden; the burden of having a background riddled with the shame of being an orphan, a half-blood, and no source of income. And, of course, as a pet was not a requirement, he went to Hogwarts alone with no companion. He envied many of the other children, for many different reasons. Much to his embarrassment over the childishness of it, their animal companions were one of those reasons for envy.

The stupid little animal stared up at him, looking to see what he would do next. He had to admit that the creature was objectively adorable, although much too small and weak. But, he supposed it would grow with time and care. And perhaps it too could come to be as special to him as the basilisk.

He nodded to himself once more, this time standing up and placing the kitten into his upper-left robe pocket. It mewed in surprise as Tom tucked it in, its head peeking over the top as if still reeling from this new development.

“Quiet, you insolent thing.” Tom hushed the whimpering kitten as he proceeded with his patrol.

Muttering a quick “tempus” he noted that he only had about fifteen minutes left. He performed his job as expected and had found some new corners of the castle that might become beneficial to unlocking the Chamber completely in the following months. And, of course, had gained a new plaything. Everything was going as planned, nay, better than planned.

Tom smiled smugly to himself. The kitten in his breast pocket, however, was coming to the realization that this night was just getting worse and worse.

On second thought, Y/N hummed, perhaps being kidnapped by the prince of Slytherin was for the best…

The fifth year, newly turned animagus was currently lapping up the last of the warm milk that Tom Riddle had provided for her. He had so thoughtfully added cinnamon sugar to the bowl, specially requested from when he had taken a detour to the kitchens.

When Y/N had decided to transform for the first time that night, she had done well to take into account it being a Friday night so that students and teachers would be much too distracted by the coming weekend and would also have the next day to recover should anything go awry. In addition, as the fifth year Gryffindor prefect, she was the one who had patrol over that area of the castle and more than aware that it was relatively quiet and abandoned for the most part. The older Slytherin prefect was supposed to be in the next section over.

But, Y/N thought as she finished licking the remaining milk droplets from her mouth, he was probably taking a shortcut or had gotten mixed up when reprimanding loitering students.

Either way, Y/N’s stomach was much too full to think too much about it. She didn't know milk could ever taste so good. It was surely blasphemous and sinful for it to be oh so delicious.

Without a second thought, Y/N rolled over to her back. The bulge of her now fuzzy and milk-round tummy came into view and was now reminded what had gotten her into such a predicament. Couldn't she have been something a bit more ferocious? Or at least quick or repulsive enough for him to not scoop her up like it was nothing and plop her in his pocket? If anyone ever found out, she would never hear the end of it -

“Are you dead?”

Y/N meant to let out a groan, but instead a low pur escaped as she laid there on the thick rug in the Slytherin common room.

Turning with milk-drunk eyes, she saw the prince of Slytherin himself sitting beside her, cross-legged on the floor and watching her as if both puzzled and enamored.

Blinking slowly at him, he returned the gaze and let out a low hum.

“Hm, perhaps not.” He mused, taking in the kitten’s sleepy demeanor.

It was quite cute, he thought. Conventionally, of course.

Y/N was certain that the prefect had known who she was and what she had done as soon as he found her in the midst of a panic attack behind that stupid statue. He always had sharp, pervasive eyes and the way his dark eyes seemed to drill into hers - she was certain he was going to turn her into Headmaster Dippet. But she was even more alarmed when he brought her to the kitchens. Of course, he would choose an even worse fate for her - handing her over to the house elves to cook for breakfast the next morning. A kitten breakfast sandwich, she was sure.

But his asking for a bowl of warm milk and cinnamon-sugar was perhaps even more horrifying. Did he not know? Or was this an act of humiliation? Y/N couldn't care less, however, once she first tasted that sweet, sweet milk.

This was humiliating.

But maybe, just maybe… Tom Riddle was unaware of her being an animagus. Perhaps she could sneak out when he wasn't paying attention and then simply ignore the boy for the remainder of his stay at Hogwarts; he had never noticed her before, let alone spoken to her. Surely it wouldn't be so hard to get out of the situation she had found herself in…

…Right?

Oh Merlin. Y/N wanted to cry. Was that Nott? And Lestrange? Holy fuck, did Malfoy sleep nude?!

Strike me dead, Godric Gryffindor, Y/N prayed but to no avail; no one was listening. The snake pit of all things - a teenage boy snake pit, no less!

Y/N shuddered, Hell is better preferred.

But no magical deity or wizard ancestors came to save her. Instead they had forsaken her as Tom Riddle, the prince of Slytherin, unfolded his duvet and climbed into his bed, being sure to lay her kitten form gently beside him.

I'm gonna piss myself. Then perhaps he'll put me out of my misery for ruining his bedsheets.

But the boy seemed to not notice her desperation either, because he started to hum a low tune and scratch under her chin with a soft touch.

Without her permission, but with plenty of shame, her whole body started to vibrate as it purred incessantly.

I'm going to throw myself off the astronomy tower.

Unfortunately, Y/N could not finish that train of thought as Tom Riddle had put her swiftly to sleep with warm milk and head scratches - quickly enough that it could rival him knocking her out with a deadly jinx.

“-ou think that it's Tom’s?”

“While Riddle doesn't seem like the pet type, it is in his bed…”

Y/N felt a soft prodding at her stomach. A dull pain hit then and Y/N cursed drinking so much milk the night before…wait a minute.

“Oh, look! It's waking up!”

“Aw! Merlin, it's so cute~”

With great reluctance and fear, Y/N opened her eyes to see three boys staring down at her with bright, shining eyes and large smiles. Abraxas Malfoy, Cantankerus Nott, and Randolphus Lestrange looked even scarier when they were happy. Y/N didn't think she had ever seen them look so happy except when they were antagonizing others - hopefully it won't be as painful as the other teenage tortures she had witnessed from the sidelines up until now.

Unfortunately, it was worse.

“D’ya think Riddle’s already named it?” Nott asked, excitedly scratching her behind her ears as he cooed.

“Dunno, but I know my sister still has some kitten supplies from when she got hers a couple years back. Ya don't think Tom would be offended if we offered to help?”

“Yeah, where is he anyway?” Malfoy inquired, gently joining Nott in petting her.

Y/N, stiff with fear and about to piss herself, almost cried with joy as the door swung open and Tom Riddle walked in. Without a second thought, Y/N took the opportunity; she leapt off the bed and rushed out the door, not bothering to slow down as the four Slytherin boys cried out behind her.

She could hear the dignified Tom Riddle rush after her, having quickly set down the warm milk he had gone to retrieve.

“Kitten, no! Bad kitten!” The prefect sounded flustered, and if Y/N had taken the time to look behind her, she would have seen him also look very unkempt as he pushed through the other students in the common room, all of whom were giving him startled and baffled looks.

But, as if Merlin was finally showing her mercy, two first years had just opened the common room door and Y/N slipped through into the dungeons and quickly made her way to the second floor girls’ lavatory, which was the closest and safest place for her to transform back.

Thankfully, as it was still early morning on a Saturday and this part of the castle was relatively empty, Y/N was alone in the furthest stall. While it took her a moment to calm down and focus on how to turn back, she finally did. As she examined herself in the mirror she was just happy she had done so successfully, without maintaining a tail or ears.

In fact, she was just happy she didn't accidentally transform back into her human form the previous night. Y/N shuddered. She could only imagine the horrors she would have faced if Riddle and the other boys had woken up to a random 5th year Gryffindor snuggled up to him in bed and not a cat in sight. Small victories.

But while she was here, Y/N made sure to use the restroom and take off her prefect badge, lest anyone become suspicious that she never returned to her dorm. Thankfully, the girls she shared a room with rarely bothered her and couldn't care less about what she did. But the Slytherin boys…she would have to be careful around them, especially if she wanted to continue her plans on sneaking out of the castle to go explore the grounds. And of course, she needed to keep transforming even if for a small amount of time so that she could get used to transitioning and such.

Y/N made sure to straighten out her uniform in front of the mirror, patting down her skirt and her slightly ruffled hair before heading back to her dorm to change for the Hogsmeade trip -

Is that a snake on the facet? Y/N did a double take, looking curiously at the emblem under the mirror. Huh…none of my business.

Must be some Slytherin thing…they do like to own things, don't they. And of course putting some kind of marking or brand on their possessions. I'm just glad I escaped before Riddle put a collar on me…

Y/N shook her head once more at the faucet before retreating to her dorm to get ready for the Hogsmeade trip.

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