#Christian Harry Potter

[trappezoider]

baby princess

[writingsbychlo]

SPIDER | tom riddle

summary; tom riddle has a peculiar way of showing his affection, but he's nothing if not protective.

word count; 1625

notes; I woke up this morning with inspiration and I grabbed my laptop and banged this out before even getting up. if you hate it, I literally don't care <3

The flames of the fireplace flickered soothingly, the last warmth spilling out towards you in a subtle glow, hiding the reflections of the lake that danced around the room. Several other students were also still milling around, the Slytherin common room was never truly empty, not unless it was the summer break. Pulling the blanket a little tighter around your shoulders, you snuggled down a bit further, only stilling when the cold sense of someone else crept down your neck. 

This was a familiar chill, though. You were aware of someone else’s presence, and yet no part of that was threatening. A familiar cologne reached your nose, and before you’d even turned, you were greeting the man who stood behind you, “Hello, Tom.”

“Why are you down here?” He cut right to the point, never one for formalities, and your lips flickered up at the edges as he walked around the edge of the sofa and into your view. “You’re never up at this time.”

Always so observant. Your smile formed a little more every time he revealed something extra he’d noticed about you. That you liked a particular table in the library, that your favourite biscuits were chocolate hobnobs, that you didn’t usually stay up this late. Tom Riddle had a peculiar way of showing affection. Most people assumed he was cold, unfeeling, harsh. They couldn't be more wrong. 

Tom Riddle was a walking, talking, bleeding heart. He was an open wound, snapping like an injured animal when anyone came close. Tom Riddle was full of emotion, it just happened to be hidden behind a thick stone wall. But if you were allowed close enough to look through the cracks, the true Tom Riddle shone like golden light within. 

“I could ask you the same thing.” You teased, and he rolled his eyes, taking half a step closer to you and perching on the arm of the couch elegantly. 

“You know I go for walks at night.”

“And where do you go for these walks? What do you do on your oh-so-mysterious nightly walks?” You turned your body further towards him, the blanket slipping down from its place around your chin, and those calculating brown eyes tracked its fall along your arm.  

“That’s none of your business, and you’re avoiding the question.”

“You’re avoiding mine.” You retorted, and he simply gave you a dry look. Reaching out, Tom lifted the edge of the blanket back up and over your shoulder, securing it back into place. 

“Answer me.”

“Fine,” You sighed, head rolling across your shoulders and back towards the fireplace, watching the growing flames once again, “I saw a spider in my room. It crawled down the edge of my bed right before I could get in, and now I don’t want to go to sleep.”

You could feel Tom’s stare on you, the silence stretching between you both as he let the confession settle. There was half a chance he’d scoff, and half a chance he’d simply walk away now that he got his answer. He seemed to be debating between which one to go for. “Why didn’t Pansy get it out for you?”

Another question, not an option you’d considered, but not a surprise from him. “She’s not here, she’s at Luna’s tonight.”

More silence, and you took the chance to observe him instead. Tom Riddle was not one to cower away from a stare, and so as you watched him, he watched you too. Finally, he broke the silence, “I’ll get it for you.”

Now, that was a surprise. “You will?”

“Yes.”

“Why?” 

“Does it matter?” He shot back, standing once again, making it clear to you that you were to do the same, or he’d leave without you. Dropping the blanket down to the couch, the enchanted item folded itself back up and into the storage trunk you’d taken it from, as you smoothed out your jumper and followed Tom’s already retreating steps.

“It doesn’t matter, but I’m curious. Humour me.” You caught up with him, and he cut you a glance from the side of his eye. “You should also know that I’m very grateful, whether you choose to tell me or not. Thank you.”

The rigid lines of his shoulders softened a little at that. Should you know how to, Tom Riddle could be played like a fiddle. You smothered a snicker at the rhyme in your head as he let slip a small sigh. “I don’t want you to sit in the common room all night when I can perfectly easily take care of the problem.”

Your smile was full now, following him silently through the halls as he guided the way to your dorm. Opening the door, he was respectful enough to ignore the piles of mess on your roommate’s side of the dorm, looking straight towards your untouched bed, and the mug of now cold tea sitting on your bedside table. 

“Which side?”

“The far one.” You mumbled, tension creeping back into your body. What if it wasn’t there anymore? What if it had crawled elsewhere, and was now hidden somewhere in the room, ready to strike, or—

The screech of your bed frame moving snapped you from your thoughts as Tom pulled it away from the wall. It moved again, jarring along the wooden floor. Tom remained still, eyes moving for a second, two, before he suddenly strode forwards, ducking down and his hand shot out. He straightened a second later, with his hands cupped, and turned to you. 

He nodded his head towards the window, and you scurried across the room ahead of him, flinging open the window and backing far away as he neared. That made him scoff, rolling his eyes at your behaviour once again. He held his hands out of the window, shaking them off and letting the spider fall through the air, before pulling back, and clicking the catch back into place. He double-checked it, before casting his eye over the rest of the room. 

“Let me check for any more.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that.” Your words fell on deaf ears, as Tom shifted your bed back into place, before peering behind both desks, your dressers and the wardrobe, and finally, the bathroom. He methodically checked each and every space within your dorm for you, leaving you to sit in the centre of your once again safe bed, watching him with a soft smile. Before leaving the bathroom, he washed his hands clean of the creature that had been crawling within them, before returning to you. 

“No more.”

“Thank you, Tom.” You whispered, his chin tucking in a single nod, but a frown on his face. 

“You already thanked me.”

“There’s no law saying I can’t thank you twice, or as many times as I please, for that matter.” Your smirk made him press his lips into a line, but he had no comeback and hated not having the final word. He was calculating, something else to say, something to spin this back onto you—

“Your tea is cold. You should reheat that, so you don’t waste it.”

Your gaze flickered to the mug, and back to him, shrugging. “I don’t feel like having it now.”

His sigh sounded frustrated, and he took a few more steps into the room, towards you, instead of the door. His voice had softened once again as he took you in, looking down at you with a gentler gaze than most ever saw. “Will you go to sleep now?”

“Soon, I think I’ll just read for a while, I’m not too tired yet.” 

He nodded. His jaw clenched as he glanced towards the door, but made no move to leave. The clock in the corner ticked, seconds passing by loudly in the space, and then, “Would you like to join me on my walk?”

His words were fragile, a rare show of vulnerability from him. Uttered quietly into the air that hung between you both, and your gasp almost startled him. “Really?”

He glared, answering your question with a fitting answer. Tom never said things he didn’t mean, and you knew that. Everyone knew that. But he’d never let anyone go on his walks before, it was a hotly debated topic and a running joke within the group about what exactly took place on these walks, and what nefarious things he likely got up to. 

“I’d like that.”

“Then put on some proper shoes, and quickly.” You did as he had, rather gruffly, commanded, swapping out the comfy slippers for some boots, and throwing on another jumper for extra warmth. Tom waited for you at the door, holding it open for you to step through. “Do you like the lake at night?”

“I’ve never been out to the lake at night.” 

He made a quiet sound of acknowledgement, a hum under his breath. “Then that’s where we’ll go. You’ll like it. It’s… peaceful.”

His hand flexed at his side as you walked together, and after clearing the common room and entering the silent corridors, you slipped your hand into his own. 

He stiffened, for only a second, before his fingers wrapped back around yours, and a smile pulled on his lips as he ducked his head. You and Tom had been dancing this line for years now, something more but not quite enough. 

Not yet. 

But you’d get there, someday. His actions told you enough. Enough to know that he felt what you did too, that you were certainly headed somewhere, on a collision course together. You belonged to Tom Riddle as much as he belonged to you. 

So, for now, holding his hand as you walked the lake, and letting him chase spiders out of your room was enough. 

[cherr1es-and-win3]

this picture is forever ingrained in my mind

[webbluvrsugar]

THE PRETTIEST METHOD OF BETRAYAL.

TOM RIDDLE - KINKTOBER 24 — OCT.13TH — M.LIST.

cw: dark magic, corruption, coercion

“You’re a fool.”

He bluntly tells you, you’re standing with your back to him, breathing anxiously as his chest is flushed to your back. You can feel him watching you, watching every reaction you make, every little thing you do, he’s there to watch you.

“You don’t want to join me? I’m giving you a chance.” He’s a little more aggressive now, his fingers curve into the wooden desk he holds on to, successfully trapping you in.

“A chance of what?” You retort, letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“Of living.” He points out, your brows perk up. “You’re a mudblood, when I release that beast, you can be with me or die against me.”

He speaks of you as if you’re in a lower level than him — he’s being a hypocrite — he thinks, his dirty mother was a mudblood too, either way, you do not need to know that.

“Why would you want a mudblood fighting for your name? Staining your name.” You finally turn around to look at him, so close to him that you could almost kiss.

“Because, unfortunately, you’re one of the brightest witches I’ve ever known.” Smart, he’s getting to you. “And because you’ve managed to put a… curse around my heart.”

Not exactly, but the lie will work if he’s trying to convince you to turn to him and defy all your morals, to embrace the dark within you.

“A poison.” He leans in, his lips almost touching your ear. “A curse so painful that I can barely breathe when you’re not in the same room.” His fingers move from the desk to your wrist, gripping it painfully.

“I could teach you more than you know.” He claims.

“And what do I not know?”

“The dark, the things that can’t be forgiven,” his lips finally touch the flesh below your ear. “how to make someone bend to your will with a simple flick of your wand.”

“I don’t desire to empower people.” You mention, he presses a kiss on your pulse point, it sends shivers down your back. “You do.”

“You’re right.” He chuckles. “And when I rule, witches and wizards will have a better future,” he nips at your skin, you arch your back against the wood. “away from that filthy race of yours.” His lips latch around your neck, sucking a hickey on your untouched skin.

It’s tricky.

You can either die a hero and fight with your friends against him or succumb into temptation and live a ‘peaceful’ life with love, but even living would just be enough.

Merlin, what are you doing?

This is wrong on so many levels, but you don’t care, his lips are going further and further down to your neckline, and then down to your cleavage.

“Fine.” You speak, hushed and quiet as if you don’t want anyone to hear you.

“Fine?” He pulls away, smirks.

“I’ll fight for you.” You nod.

One of his hands meet your chin, cupping it and raising your head so your eyes meet his, one of his finger prod at your lips, you part them slightly, he slides it in and past the flesh as if to humiliate you further, corrupt you even more with his dirty fingers.

“Good.”

taglist: @stayonmars @baileebear @highkeyinlovewithhanjisung

[artist-issues]

there is a huge difference between “magic” as in, “the fairy-tale symbol for a another dimension of good or evil being manifested/a fantasy word for ‘superpower’”

and “magic” as in: “real-world sorcery.”

HUGE difference. Sorcery happens in the real world. It’s when creatures worship created things instead of their Creator. It’s when humans get played by real demons and think they’re tapping into something better.

But “magic” in stories is not always that. Weirdly it sometimes references sorcery. But it’s not always sorcererous. The Fairy Godmother from Cinderella is a symbol; she’s a rewarder of good ethics, and her “magic” just makes that agency a little richer and sparklier. But the witch from Snow White? She’s a character who references real-world sorcery. The same way the Huntsman references real-world people-who-hunted-for-a-living.

That is the difference. Sorcery vs. storytelling magic.

[theblackstar04]

sirius and regulus have internalised homophobia. every pureblood does. argue with the wall

[doremimosasol]

𝐑𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 - 𝐓𝐨𝐦 𝐑𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞 𝐎𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 ☆

warnings: suggestive? honestly not really, nothing much tbh

word count: 3,6 k

summary: you being the only good chess player (you thought), could it be that you found a shared interest with Tom Riddle?

@thatdammchickennugget ‘s Hogmarch challenge prompt 3

Tom loved wizarding chess, it was the thing that he was best in. Yet he hasn't found anyone yet who was enough of a challenge for him to compete with. He wasn't just good, he was just absolutely phenomenal at chess. He gave up on finding a match for himself, playing against nothingness, preparing moves for god knows whom.

That was until he saw you, you were practicing in the courtyard. Your feet were pulled under your legs, sitting cross-legged while focused on your game. There was a slight frown on your face, lost in concentration to beat the air. There was a way to enchant an opponent, but for the best, those weren't even good enough to win. It was boring not having a partner to play with, but it was the best you've got right now.

He leaned against a pillar close to you and observed your game. You were good, but were you good enough to beat him? He knew it was sort of an advantage, watching you play for a while before he'd ask you to play against him. But no one said Tom was a fair guy, he'd do anything to win. He'd never recover from a loss in wizarding chess, the game he was supposed to be best at. The game that was supposed to be his talent to always win in.

But you seemed good too. You knew great opening moves, you checkmated the fake opponent in 5 moves sometimes. You knew a lot, things he didn't even know others knew about. Moves he thought only he knew about. Even openings he thought he came up with himself. It seemed as if you knew the game through at through, he had never met anyone like you. You were different, fascinating, yet so different than the rest.

It was extremely enchanting to watch you play, to watch you win every single time. You, you were the person he'd been looking for, for months now, for years even.

Wizarding chess didn't start for him when he started attending Hogwarts. He didn't even know it was a thing before. He found a way to enchant the pieces himself back when he lived in the orphanage, the great wizard he was back then already. He crafted stuff he found around the home into pieces to use during his games.

He endlessly played, going again and again. It was his favorite thing to do, besides cursing other students at the orphanage. It wasn't on purpose, his anger sometimes just got the best of him. Before he knew it some of his classmates fell down the stairs. Was it his fault? No, because he didn't know how to control it. Did he enjoy it though? Probably yes.

He watched you sigh as you won another game once again, seemingly bored by the lack of competition. That's when you started talking, his heart almost dropped. "You know, you can also play with me instead of watching me from a distance. I can see you're studying the way I play, don't you think that's a bit unfair?"

He almost looked shocked. You couldn't have possibly seen him standing there? You didn't even look up once to be able to notice him, yet you did. "To answer your question, you aren't subtle." That's when you looked up at him, and that's when he first saw your face clearly.

You were beautiful to him, the only thing that bothered him was the yellow tie you were wearing. A Hufflepuff? That couldn't be possible, right? To him, there was no possibility of intelligence in any other house than Slytherin. Someone needs to tell this man that his house isn't superior. It caught him slightly off guard before he decided to speak up.

"Play with me." He got straight to the point. He saw you as a challenge and he wanted to test you, see if he could beat you. Of course, he could, he was sure of it. Always so goddamn sure of himself.

You laughed at the way he was so insistent. "Fine." You got up and made the board disappear with a flick of your wand. "Tomorrow evening in the great hall." You smiled softly and walked off into the castle.

He was intrigued. He often saw you walking in the hallway, you had a lot of friends. It seemed like people adored you. He always connected having a lot of friends with being unintelligent but now he was rethinking those prejudices. He even was thinking of giving you the first chance to become friends with him. He'd view it as an honor, getting to be friends with him. God, he was so full of himself. He should feel honored himself to be friends with you. Everyone wanted to be friends with you.

The next day, you sat in the great hall, setting up the pieces as you waited for him. The hall was dimly lit by the floating candles hanging over the tables.

When he came in, he noticed you sitting at the Hufflepuff table. It didn't feel right to him to not sit by the Slytherin table but he put his pride aside and decided not to annoy you by asking to switch places. But he was thinking about it the whole evening, hoping no one would walk in on it. Every other Slytherin could care less, they sat at other tables all the time.

He sat down in front of you and you immediately lifted your head to look him in the eyes, a small smile forming when you noticed him. Why were you always smiling? It was so weird to him, you didn't even have a reason to smile. But you never needed one.

"Are you ready for me to beat your ass?" You raised your brows and he scoffed mockingly.

"I bet you've mistaken me with someone else because I never lose." He had such a competitive glint in his eyes, you've never seen anyone this serious about chess.

You chuckled at his confidence. Oh how disappointed he'll be, poor Tom. "We'll see..."

You were white, which allowed you to make the first move. It wasn't always an advantage but you were always white, it had never been different. Good thing Tom always played black. It was like both of you were made to play against each other.

"Pawn to e4." And the game was on.

It took you probably less than 20 minutes to checkmate him. Easy... He was probably too confident, thinking he could easily win. His confidence played into his disadvantage.

The second game, won after 40 minutes. He was already fuming by now. You saw the determination in his eyes, he couldn't lose again. He must win. At least once.

The fourth time, won again. It was a longer game, it took up to an hour. But you did it once again without any flaws. Oh, but he was so mad by now. His knuckles turned white by the way he was clenching his hands into fists.

"Filthy cheater, we go again!"

Could it be that the Tom Riddle was a sore loser?

"What is it? Can't stand that I'm easily winning? When will you give up Tom?" You were so enjoying getting him all worked up, it was quite the sight.

"I'll play again on one condition. The loser grants the winner a wish this time. What do you say? Are you in?" You extended your hand for him to shake, you loved making deals like this. It's because you always won, and that way always were granted a wish.

"Deal."

"You're going to regret this, y/n." You so wished you could wipe that smirk off of his face. You were going to win.

Oh, but how so wrong you were...

After 50 minutes, of a heavy and hard game, you lost for the first time ever in your entire life. It felt awful, especially since now you had to grant him a wish. You didn’t show it though, too prideful to give him this kind of satisfaction.

"Won. Guess you'll grant me my wish." He raised his eyebrows and leaned back in his chair, he analyzed your reactions and was satisfied to see an annoyed look on your face.

"What is your wish? Want me to announce to the whole school that you won, because I'll do just that." You were expecting that to be his wish so you already stood up to do it.

"Sit back down, it's something different."

Something different? What exactly could he want from you to do?

"Go on a date with me. Tomorrow night in the Room of Requirement." He sounded so confident, so determined to take you on that date.

A date?! Why in the world would he want to take you on a date? It almost sounded ridiculous to your ears. You never spoke before now, he didn't even know you. Why in the hell would he ever want to take you on a date?

"A date? Like… you and me?" He must have seen the confusion on your face, it was as obvious as the red color painting your face. You were blushing, unwillingly, but oh you were blushing hard.

"Well, I mean unless you have another definition for a date. Yes, you and me, tomorrow night. You can't say no, we made a deal."

And so you got yourself a date with Tom Riddle, you've never ever been on a date before. It'd be nerve-wracking enough with someone you knew well, but you didn't know Tom all too well. You felt like dying from the stress.

Was it even like a serious real date? You didn't even know what to wear, you lay out almost your whole closet on your bed but weren't satisfied with anything.

You even had to get your best friend to your room to help you out. Eventually, she chose a short black dress for you, it wasn't too short, classy and elegant even.

While you were almost eating your nails, you didn't know Tom was freaking out himself. Unlike you, Tom didn't have anyone to get advice from. It was all by himself, and not being experienced in these kinds of things, he was nervous. You wouldn't expect the calmth himself to be nervous, but he was quite literally freaking out.

He prepared everything since noon, he wanted it to be perfect. But also he started to think if it was too much? Or was it too little? The evening couldn't come soon enough or he'd have walked around the Room of Requirement twenty times.

You've never been to the Room of Requirement before, you've heard of it though. It'd show up when you most needed it but you didn't even feel like you needed anything at the moment. You just hoped it'd miraculously show up as you were walking through the corridors. That's when you heard a strange sound, it made you look up at the wall next to you. A large door appeared, guess this was it.

When you entered the room you were immediately greeted by the smell of freshly made food and a faint smell of roses. It's a smell you've always loved.

"Y/n, you came." He was wearing an all-black suit. God, he looked hot. Why haven't you noticed that yet about him? You were stunned, nailed to the ground. Your eyes on him that way put a smirk on his face, you were too easy.

It was different than you imagined, the way people described the room. It was often described as a large place with piles of stuff and goods but this place was clean not all too big and almost felt like a place to live. It was an open room with a book nook, a bedroom, a kitchen, a fireplace with a large couch, and a dinner table in the middle of it. It seemed to match his personality quite well.

Large iron snakes decorated the walls and the roof was painted with constellations. The room was mostly green, but not an unpleasant kind of green, a warm cozy green. It was pretty and the more you looked around, the better view you got of his personality. It's as if this room was painted to show what he was like.

It was obvious he loved silver. All the decorations were silver: the small snake details, the cutlery, and even the rings he was wearing. That's when you noticed his hands. Even during chess, you didn't pay them much mind but now you did...

His fingers wore several silver rings, some fingers covered by more than one. It was surprisingly attractive in a way, you almost felt wrong for staring at him that way but you couldn't help it.

He decided not to say anything about it but just let it slide. It'd be something he could tease you about later this evening, he just needed to find the right opportunity.

"You look beautiful." His eyes roamed your body like it was a piece of art, a piece of art he wished only he'd be able to admire. It wasn’t a creepy kind of look, you felt pretty under his gaze. He suddenly felt this weird feeling of possessiveness, something weird.

"Thank you, you look handsome yourself." That smile that painted your face again, was something he'd never get enough of. Something he wanted to get to see every day and together with that red blush on your cheeks. He felt powerful to make you feel so flustered. You weren't flustered quite often, however, he was someone who finally succeeded in doing so.

"Sit down, I'll bring the food."

The table was covered in red roses, thorns still attached. It was beautiful honestly, simple but stunning. The cutlery was engraved with roses too and a snake circling it. It was obvious that he was proud of his family history.

During dinner, you both talked about yourselves, explaining how you acquired the talent in chess. It was something your grandfather had taught you. He took care of you quite often while your parents were at work.

"They were great aurors, but not so great parents. I can't blame them honestly, I know they have a duty. I just sometimes wished they spent a bit more time with me. But it's honestly fine, my grandfather was a great man."

He always wished to have that kind of bond with a family member, it's something that always had been absent in his life. A void he so desperately wished to fill.

You motioned to the roses on the table. "They're pretty, but the school grounds don't grow roses... Where did you get them?"

He gives you that mischievous smile. "It's my secret."

It was a nice evening, the food was good and he was so much nicer than you expected. He was like a totally different person than when he was losing in chess.

A week passed and you hadn't heard from him since. You didn't dare to speak to him, scared he might not want to talk to you. Guess this was it, it was a nice evening but probably only a one-time thing. Maybe this is what he did with all the girls, getting a taste of their personality and going on to the next. You didn't view him like that at all but your view on guys wasn't all too great, so what else were you supposed to think?

It was until one night when you entered your dorm, a rose lay in front of your door. The thorns were removed and a small envelope was attached to it. You entered your room and sat down on your bed to open it.

"Meet me at the front gate just before dawn. - TR ps. check the envelope"

Check the envelope? It didn't feel like there was something else in there but decided to check...

A ring.

A silver ring, one of the rings he was wearing last week. It was the one that stood out the most, a green emerald covering the middle. It was a thick ring but it was so magnificent, you were drawn by the beauty of it. It must've cost such a great fortune. Why would he gift you this?

Just when you were about to put the envelope away, something else fell out: a thin silver chain. Did he want you to wear it as a necklace?

You decided to attach it to the thin chain and put it around your neck before getting ready to leave for the front gate. You didn't see the need to get all dressed up like last time, just something to keep yourself warm in this cold weather.

Approaching the large gate, he was already standing there. He was leaning against it, his eyes searching for something... "Come here." He motioned for you to come closer. There was something else in his eyes today, something mysterious but not scary. Just mysterious.

He traced your jaw and moved his fingers down your neck until he felt the cold touch of jewelry. He took it from underneath your shirt and lay it over your sweater. "Don't hide it, wear it with pride."

Without letting you answer he entered the courtyard, expecting you to follow him. "To answer your question..." You didn't even ask one, however, you'd like to know why he gave it to you.

He entered the school grounds, pausing his words before continuing. "I thought you would've liked it more around your neck than around my fingers. But I bet you didn't really mind staring at them, did you?" He caught you.

He looked at you with a smirk, enjoying seeing you flustered once again. "I wanted to show you something, I just needed to find the right day. Tonight seemed perfect."

He stopped for you to catch up with him and once you did, he took your hand in his. "You seem nervous, princess?" The cold of his rings touching your hand caught you off guard before deciding to answer. "Maybe I am."

"You shouldn't be." It was all he said before he stopped in front of a large rock, casting a spell on it before it revealed a large meadow.

"I know you're surprised, but we have to get in fast before it closes again." Once you both stepped inside, you noticed the meadow was covered by a bed of red roses.

This must be the place where he got all the roses... He moved behind you, his chest pressing against your back before he moved his hand around your neck to the front. He slowly moved it up to your chin, making you look up to the sky. "Look up, y/n."

Above you were the same constellations painted on the roof in his Room of Requirement. It was an exact copy of this place here, he made it exactly alike.

His fingers now moved back to your neck, taking the hair in front with him to give him access to your neck. You sensed him moving his lips closer to your ear, slightly touching the shell with his lips. "Do you like it? You're the first person to know."

Your breath caught in your throat once his lips touched your neck, he slowly moved lower. "Mhmm?" That's when he stuck out his tongue slightly to get a taste of your neck. "Answer me, y/n."

"Yes, I do... I do like it."

"Mhmm, good." He slowly started sucking on your neck, biting it every few seconds before turning you around to make you face him. His hand moved to the piece of hair covering your face, moving it behind your ear.

You couldn't help but take a glance at his lips, he was being extremely tempting right now. A sudden urge pulled you closer to him, you wanted to be closer to him. His gaze averted to your lips too, both of you almost touching now but not quite yet.

"Kiss me."

And that's exactly what you did, there was no shame in your actions, you weren't ashamed of how you were truly feeling. It felt right and natural...

He pushed his fingers through your hair and grabbed it softly, earning a soft moan from you as a result. Exactly what he wanted. He wasted no time to push his tongue inside your mouth, exploring it like it were a map. He needed to have tasted every part, twice to remember it.

The kiss became more intense as you both pressed against each other. Your bodies were pressed up against each other so tightly it was as if you were one entity. Your kisses were filled with heat, each kiss made his heart skip a beat. Your lips were so soft and your kisses were so passionate. It was almost as if your lips were made to please each other.

His hand moved away slightly to take his wand and with a flick, all roses grown in the ground immediately got rid of their thorns. Without a warning he picked you up and lay you down with him, his body on top of yours.

He pulled away to admire the sight of you lying on the bed of roses, your hair was spread all over the ground and he almost couldn't contain himself. He moved closer to whisper in your ear once again. "This is quite the sight but I’d much rather enjoy it without clothes..."

[distantdarlings]

HARD EDGES // t. riddle

RATING: R / 1.6K WORDS

Tom Riddle x Reader Insert (no gender-specific details)

+ SUMMARY - You decide to ask Tom to the Winter ball and he reacts a bit differently than you would have expected. (Romance, slight angst?)

+ WARNINGS - Implied smut, heavy kissing, heavy petting, light choking, Tom is kind of mean (but I mean, it’s Tom Riddle) language

+ MUSIC (listened to to while writing) -

ATE MY HEART - SEVEN XTC

---

Tom’s eyes found mine in a fiery rage. His lips pursed gently as he struggled with what to say. 

“Look, if you can’t just answer like a human being, I’m going—”

“Shut the fuck up,” he growled, snatching your wrist from your side. He yanked you behind him and started abruptly down the hall. You glanced around nervously at the few people still scattered around the area. A few of their eyes found the two of you as Tom cut like a knife through the small crowd. You hid your face as best as you could, feeling your cheeks begin to warm. You knew they were probably just trying to see what in the world Tom Riddle was up to—it had nothing to do with you. But, Merlin, did it feel like it. 

He turned the nearest right corner sharply, away from all the prying eyes, and led you down to the end of the hall before swinging you in front of him. Your eyes found his only for a moment before he shoved you roughly into the room behind you. You nearly fell back as you stumbled into the second-floor male lavatory. His eyes glowed red with incomparable fury. 

His wand waved behind him in a quick spell and the door shut suddenly with a slam. The large lock on it dropped with a heavy clunk. Your heart rate quickened quite rapidly. Hopefully, this wasn’t the biggest mistake of your life and you were able to make it out of this alive. Not that Tom would kill you…You’re pretty sure anyway.

“I want you to repeat the question to me,” he demanded, “and don’t interrupt me while I’m thinking of a response.” You struggled not to roll your eyes. You shrugged out of your robes—it was getting a bit hot in here.

“All I wanted to know was if you wanted to be my date to the Winter ball. I wasn’t trying to make you uncomfortable or anything but when you sat there gawking at me like I had two heads, I got a little pissed and—”

“Okay, okay, shut up,” he interrupted. His eyes dropped to the floor as he seemed to be figuring out an impossible equation in his head. His fingers ran through his curled hair as he glanced around in thought.

“It really doesn’t require that much—yes or no?” you spoke. He angrily glanced at you, silencing you with his eyes. You sighed loudly, hoping it would convince him to answer a little quicker. Why was it this difficult? If you were so repulsive, he had to lock you in a bathroom and ponder the meaning of the universe, to agree to go to a ball with you…well, then maybe you didn’t need to be here. You started towards the door.

“No!” he shouted, he pushed you back into your original spot. “Please just let me think.”

“What is there to think about?” your voice began to rise. “It’s a simple yes or no question, if you don’t want to go, just say no. I just thought since we’ve been paired together in potions and all, you might want to go as friends.”

“As friends?” he asked, almost as if getting reassurance. Your stomach dropped a little.

“Yes, as friends,” you responded, ignoring the knot in your throat. “We don’t have to be anything to go to a ball together.”

“Why would you ask me in the first place, though, surely you could’ve asked….erm,” he glanced around, thinking of someone to say. “Malfoy, or someone else. Don’t you have a bit of a thing for him?”

"Oh, you idiot—don't you see?" you breathed, the sound strangled in your throat. 

"What? See what?" he demanded, eyes wild with anger. You had never seen him this angry before. You’d never really seen him show anything outwardly except for the usual cool, confident façade he plastered on.

Your eyes flicked back and forth between his, trying to find any soft edge in them at all, but being left empty. You sighed in defeat, letting your eyes flicker to the ground. 

"See what?" he demanded once more. He stepped closer to you and craned his neck to try and meet your eyes again. You scoffed and pushed him back. 

"I'm not going to make myself look like a fucking fool if you don't know what I'm talking about, Tom!" you turned from him, crossing your arms. You gathered your robes from the floor and began to walk towards the door.

"What on Earth are you talking about—I don't understand. If you would just tell me—" he cut himself off, grabbing your wrist and pulling you back to him. He pulled hard enough to wrench you to his chest. You pressed roughly to the hard material before backing away. 

"Sorry," he muttered. You shook your head.

"Don't apologize, Tom. I—I just wish I didn't have to explain it to you."

"Please," he breathed, not breaking eye contact. You were sure he was so self-centered, he likely thought it was something relating to his reputation or something of the like. A professor talking badly about him, one of his friends spreading a rumor about his family, something. 

You searched his eyes. The hard edges were all but gone and had been replaced with a cloud-like shape. His eyes bore so deeply into yours, that they might leave a scar. Your eyes flicked down to his lips briefly, wondering so desperately what they might taste like. Sure, he was a dick and made you so fucking mad, but when you thought of him, the thoughts were becoming less and less negative. 

You prayed that anything you said would come out slowly after being perfectly calculated, but that so rarely happened.

"Tom, I—" you breathed. His lips parted slightly. His eyes searched yours. His brows knitted together. The silence between the two of you was heavy and pressed down on your shoulders like an anvil.

"Please just—"

And you pushed yourself to your toes and pressed your lips to his. He tasted every bit of what you’d always imagined. His lips were rough with a musky flavor coated with the tang from the apple he'd just finished. His lack of movement was devastating.

Your gut clenched and you accepted defeat. You pulled back and looked at his shocked expression. Well, this had easily been the worst night of your life and you thought it might be best if you discussed moving schools with Headmaster Dippet first thing in the morning. You stifled a wince and looked down. That was your cue to go. 

"I'm sorry, I'm just going to—"

"No." He grabbed your arm, once more pulling you back to him. His lips found yours again. This time, he handled the movement, moving your lips just as he wanted and no other way. You wondered if he'd ever kissed anyone before. 

You shyly placed your hands on his collar where the first button sat wide open. Your fingertips gently brushed his throat. He made a low humming sound that echoed in his neck, vibrating your fingers. His fingers found their way to your hair, curling his fingers tightly into each strand. In any other situation, it might’ve hurt, but in this one, it did nothing but push you on. 

He tilted your head to the side with the strong grip against your scalp and effectively deepened the kiss. At this smoothened motion, you gasped against his mouth, to which he responded by walking you back into the stone walls and crushing you against them. His hands released your hair and quickly found your neck, holding your head staunchly in place while he painted your lips with his spit. As soon as you tried to rearrange your head’s placement, his thumbs came to rest on either side of your throat and began to press ever so gently. You sighed shakily, feeling the utter control he currently exerted over you. Your hands confidently moved forward to wrap themselves around his tight waist, feeling his hips stutter as you pulled them closer to you. His grip on your neck never once faltered. He pulled back.

“You think you can walk away from me?” he growled lowly, his lips capturing yours once more in a swift, rough bite. Blood pooled against your tongue. You stifled a whimper at the pain.

“You think you can just kiss me and then leave? That’s the end of it?” he spat, his fingers ever so slightly tightening around your neck. “No, that doesn’t fucking happen.”

Your lips parted weakly and you nodded fervently. Whatever it was he needed, wanted, said, you’d agree. You’d do anything to feel his lips on yours again. His eyes found your lips as your chin raised in an attempt to meet your mouths once again. A mocking smirk found its way onto his face. Dick. 

“You are mine,” his chest rumbled against yours. Your eyes never left his, though they fluttered in anxiety. One of his hands left your throat and grabbed one of yours still curled around his waist. A tight grip on your wrist loosened your hold against him. He directed your hand up to his face as he watched your eyes closely. His lips came down to brush against your fingertips with a feather-light touch. You couldn’t look away. 

“Say it,” he murmured against your fingers. 

“What?” you whispered. His grip around your wrist tightened to a bruising clamp. Your eyes watered.

“Say that you’re mine.”

“If I do, will you kiss me again?” you nervously joked, trying to hide a laugh at the look he gave you. He all but rolled his eyes as he slowly pressed his head into the crook of your neck. He ghosted his lips along the surface of your skin. Your eyes fluttered closed as you tilted your head to give him more access to you, every part of you. He gently dragged his lips up to your ear where he pressed a chaste kiss just below it. You shuddered.

“If you say that you’re mine, I will take you in this bathroom right now.” 

Part Two

[traditionaldream]

I STAND WITH J.K. ROWLING!

The woman who is never afraid to talk the truth, even if it brings her terrible repercussions, that was literally at the bottom when se wrote the books that changed generations and made them fall in love with reading, me included, that fights for women's rights, real women's rights, that would rather go to prison than to bend to this modern awful narratives and that inspires millions of women everyday. 💙

[courtn3ysang3l]

DATE ME! PLEASE!

[loyaldeatheater]

This portrayal by Christian Coulson gave me a major crush on Voldemort many years ago.

[thedvilsinthedetails]

convos I’ve had today with my friends as the marauders:

Barty: if we’re all technically children of God according to the bible…does that make Jesus my brother?

Regulus: well if I’m a child of God no wonder I have parental trauma!

[nerdhappenings]

Aight, let's be honest...

If I was in Hogwarts at the time Voldemort looked like THIS

I'd be a Death Eater, too.

[cassintt]

TOM RIDDLE 2002 - Harry Potter

[plathfiles]

please let the marauders fandom find this ‼️

which character in the marauders era would Christian Bale be good at being??? please help me with this I want to fan cast him for a fic but idk what character he would be??

[princessinicole]

Commission for ff “Lost Memories”