#Tom riddle one shot

[rafesslxt]

✧.* 𝐒𝐋𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐍 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐒 | 𝐒𝐄𝐗𝐔𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐅𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃

જ⁀➴ your best friends get a hint of how sexually frustrated you are and offer their help

: ̗̀➛ nsfw, smut, teasing, making out, nicknames, cheating with Tom, fingering, oral on female, p in v unprotected, nipple sucking

「 ✦ Mattheo, Tom, Theodore, Enzo, Draco, Pansy ✦ 」

Mattheo:

❥ It didn‘t took him long to notice something‘s wrong. You two sit together in potions, currently making a new potion. Normally you two would laugh and banter all the time, teasing each other but you were so quiet today and didn‘t even look at him

❥ "Y/n, is everything alright?" he asks and puts his hand on your shoulder, drawing a little whine from you. His eyebrows knitted and he took a step back, scanning you whole. He just then noticed your flushed cheeks, flustered expression, your thighs pressed together and your bottom lip between your teeth. You were turned on.

❥ He wanted to test his theory a little and started to prepare the ingredients for the potion in front of you two. He flexed his arms a little, knowing you liked his hands because you once told him when you two were drunk. He saw your hungry gaze at his hands, making him smile to himself.

❥ "Here, chop up the root. Can you do that for me, doll?" He softly breathed against your face, coming dangerous close to you. The nickname gave you visible shiver‘s, just feeding right into his ego. He had a crush on you since forever but never actually had the balls to tell you.

❥ After class was over and you guys were free he pulled you with him to his dorm. "M-mattheo what are you doing?" you wondered but followed him. He closed the door behind you and grabbed you by your hips, pushing you against the door. A gasp left your lips and you looked at him like a deer in the lights.

❥ "Care to tell me why you‘re so .. on edge?" Thats when you finally let everything out. You broke up with your boyfriend and the reason was simple: He couldn't fuck. Mattheo had to hold back a laugh at your outburst of emotions. "It's not funny! It's so frustrating you can't even imagine!"

❥ "Want me to help you? You know.. like a best friend would." he offers you with a smug smirk on his face. You thought he was joking until he had you trembling and shaking under him. He hit every corner and touched every part of your skin that was untouched by your ex-boyfriend. "What are friends for huh?" he moaned when you clenched around him, your nails digging into his back when your orgasm came nearer. Let's just say, you never ever had to fear bad sex again.

Tom Riddle:

❥ You and your best friend Tom sat together in the library when no one was there anymore, thank‘s to Tom‘s charm and good reputation. It all started with your leg bouncing the whole time until Tom send you an annoyed glare which made you stop immediately.

❥ But it continued with your sighing. It got so distracting that at one point Tom slapped his book down onto the table so hard that you flinched. "Please tell me why you‘re sighing like a hurt puppy the whole damn time."

❥ You really considered telling him but you were kind of shy when talking about things like that. On top if that Tom already hated your boyfriend and you didn‘t want to give him another reason to add to the list. "Nothing, just.. tired."

❥ Tired my ass was what Tom thought. He knew you were lying so he had to try a different way. It didn‘t took him long to get inside your head with his new found skill ' Legilimency'

❥ "He told you what?!" Tom suddenly shouts at you. "What?" you asked him confused. "He told you that when you asked him for some foreplay?" He didn‘t even tried to hide the fact that he read your mind. "Tom! Stop going through my head all the damn time!" "Did he seriously tell you it‘s not worth the time?"

❥ He scoffs when you tell him the whole thing that happened with your boyfriend. "No wonder you‘re that sexually frustrated." "Excuse me?" "Come on. All the sighing and leg bouncing the whole time? Your body needs release." He said in a monotone voice like he talked about the weather. "Well – it‘s not that easy Tom." "It is. Let me help you."

❥ Since he could read your mind it made no sense to even try and deny the excitement that went through your body at his offer. He had you laying all spread out for him on the library desk in front of him. Books and notes all over the place and even floor. Your skirt got pushed up to your stomach and his fingers skillfully played with your throbbing clit.

❥ "Look at that. How could this not be worth anyone‘s time hm?" Tom muttered while sucking on your nipples, switching every minute between them while pumping his fingers in and out of you, his thumb circling your clit until you came around his digits. And that waw just the beginning of a whole night of foreplay.

Theodore Nott:

❥ That‘s exactly how your best friend looks at you when he overhears you talking to Pansy, telling her, you haven‘t slept with someone in so long that you would do abything for dick now. Obviously it was a joke. But obviously Theo wouldn’t be Theo If he didn‘t already formed a plan in his head.

❥ Teasing was the keyword. And patience. Theo‘s plan was to tease you little by little over days to get a reaction out of you.

❥ First day he brushed past you every here and there with his hips pushing slightly against you and his hands on your hips. It made your whole head spin and you tried to calm down, seeing him smiling at you innocently.

❥ The second day was just as simple. The whole day he whispered into your ear, laughing, joking, asking things about the class you two were having right now. And with every whisper he brushed his lips against your ear lobe or shell, his warm breath hitting your skin and leaving goosebumps behind.

❥ On the third day he got a bit bolder. When you started bouncing your leg or fidgeting with your fingers, he would put his hand on your thigh. High. He said "It‘s to calm you down a little bit cara mia." His big hands squeezing your flesh and his fingers stroking your desperate skin.

❥ Day four you and all your friends sat in the common room on the couch by the fireplace. You sat next to Theo of course, sharing a blanket since it‘s cold due the late night. At some point he had you leaning against his chest with his arms around you. While you lazily listened to Draco telling ya‘ll a story, Theo‘s finger started to dance over your slighty exposed skin on your stomach. Your shirt mist have rosen up a little under the blanket. You sucked in a breath, trying not to melt right there in front of everyone.

❥ Day five and six were the hardest because he completely neglected you. He talked to you but never stood beside you or sat next to you in class or lunch. It drove you literally crazy. Why would he do this to you? He didn‘t even hug you. But you also couldn‘t ask him because how would that sound? 'Hey Theo why don‘t you touch me anymore?' No thanks.

❥ Day seven was when you actually broke. "Theo, we need to talk, please." You practically dragged him away from the rest of your friends to your‘s and Pansy‘s room. "How can I help you principessa?" he asked with a smug smile on his face. "Touch me." was all you blurted out. He raised his eyebrows and looked surprised at you. "What?" "Touch me Theo, please. I - I can‘t concentrate anymore when you‘re not near me."

❥ Well – what was supposed to be innocent touching and stroking, ended with you on your belly on your bed with Theo behind you, pounding his cock into your pussy. "Everytime from now on that you feel like this, you come to me, capito?"

Lorenzo Berkshire:

❥ You and Enzo were best friends since you could remember. You two have gone through everything together. Break-up‘s, first heartbreak, fighting with parents, puberty, seeing each other naked by accident, literally everything.

❥ You two were so close that nobody even questioned it when you were cuddling under a blanket in the common room late at night while your friends talked about how unfair the quidditch game today was.

❥ "Did you use that peach-shampoo again?" he whispered into your ear when you layed down on his chest and your hair was right under his nose. You looked up at him and nodded with a smile, knowing it was his favorite. He sighs when he inhales it and wraps his arms around you, his fingers playing with the hem of your little crop top.

❥ Enzo was so concentrated at sonething Theodore told the group, that he didn‘t notice how he started to play with the top of her skirt, his fingers gliding under it so innocently. When you noticed you stopped breathing for a second, glanzing up at your best friend who didn‘t seem to notice what he was doing.

❥ At first it was okay but after ten more minutes, you felt yourself getting restless in his arms and shifted every now and then in his lap. You felt yourself get slowly turned on from his little touch. With his second hand he started to stroke your thigh mindlessly, not realizing how your cheeks started to get red and your pussy wet. You pressed your lips together.

❥ Then it happened. Your hips grinded against his lap out of the pleasure and desperation you felt. He froze immediately and stopped moving his hands and fingers. He gulped and looked down at you, your heavy eyes already looking up at him when you grinded against him again boldly.

❥ He swallowed down a moan when your ass grinded against his crotch. "What are you doing baby?" The nickname send shivers down your spine together with his raspy voice against your ear. "I think – I think I need out friendship to go to the next level." You breathed out. You saw him biting his lips when his hands startet moving again. One hand continueing massaging your thigh while the other slipped down into your underwear and went straight to your slick folds.

❥ "Shit you‘re soaked." he breathed when he dipped his finger into your wet pussy, teasing your throbbing clit. Your hips bucked up and you tried to be as quiete as possible so your friends around you wouldn‘t notice. Right when you were about to come around his fingers, he pulled them away, your eyes going wide.

❥ You glared up at him with a desperate look in your eyes and rosy cheeks. He licked his fingers clean when no one watched and smirked down at you. "Don‘t worry baby, you‘re gonna come around something way bigger."

Draco Malfoy:

❥ "Draco?" "Yes, y/n?" You currently were in his room at the malfoy manor due holiday‘s and since his parents really liked you – good reputation and behavior, pure blood family and a lot of money – they never had a problem with you over. The complete opposite was the case. They often hoped you two would be more than best friends some day.

❥ "Can you remember when you told me you would do anything for me?" You asked him with your voice cute and hopeful. "No.. but go on." You roll your eyes at his answer but go on like he said.

❥ "Well, there is something that you could do for me that I think you would enjoy too." you said carefully. His eyebrows rose up and he looked at you curious now. "Oh yeah and what would that be, doll?" That‘s the nickname he used on you everytime you asked him for a favor.

❥ Now or never, right? "I - I want you.. tofuckme." His eyes go wide and his jaw fell to the floor. "What did you just say?" he asks slowly, not sure If he understood right. "I said Iwantyoutofuckme." He stood up and walked over to you, grabbing you by your chin. "Y/n.. tell me slowly what you said or I swear – " "I want you to fuck me, Draco."

❥ His lips crashed into yours just a second later, pushing you down on his bed. You kissed him vack, more confused than he was. "Are you- aren‘t you gonna ask why I want this so suddenly?" you gasp when he starts sucking on your neck and his fingers already opening your jeans.

❥ "Fuck no, you can tell me afterwards. I don‘t care." he breathes before he throws all of your clothes all over his room and fucks you into his mattress for the whole night.

❥ After you two were done he pulled you against his chest, still breathing heavily. "And? What was the reason?" he asked out of breath. "Well uh – I broke up with Colin. He just couldn‘t make me happy in and outside the bedroom so .. I wanted to ask you to help me since ai felt so.. worked up." He chuckled deeply and pulled you even closer. "Told you he‘s a loser.." you roll your eyes at his comment. "You‘re mine bow, hope you know that."

Pansy Parkinson:

❥ "Pansy, can I ask you something?" you asked your best friend. You two shared a dorm together and sat currently in front of the tv you had bought for the two if you. Her new favorite show "baby" was playing. It was a italian show and she loved learning new languages. "Of course, what‘s wrong?" "Why has something to be wrong?" "Y/n.. you never ask to ask something.. only when something is wrong."

❥ You had to smile a little at her answer and rolled your eyes playfully. "Since you‘re sleeping with boys and girls.. I wanted to ask you.. do you enjoy going down on girls?" Pansy looks at you surprised. "Why are you asking me that? This isn‘t coming from no where."

❥ I sigh and look at my hands. "Uhm – Brody said he doesn‘t like it and it .. freaks him out." I tell her what my boyfriend told me. Her eyes go wide and she almost shouts at me, "He said what?!" "Can you please just answer me Pansy?"

❥ She sighs and looks at my fidgety hands. "Of course I enjoy it and what kind of man is he that he says something like that to you?" "Is it possible that maybe it‘s.. me? That something is wrong with me and not him? Maybe it looks weird or-" "Y/n stop. I promise you nothing is wrong with you love."

❥ "But you can‘t know that Pans.." "Do you want to try?" Now you are the one who looks at her in shock. "You would ?" "Yeah but only If you‘re comfortable with it of course. I know that you only have been with boys." Your cheeks heated up a little at the thought of doing something so intimate with your best friend. You two have talked about that one time and Pansy knew how open you were to trying it someday with a woman too.

❥ Let‘s just say from there on you never questioned yourself again. "Pansy I - that‘s do good." You let out a whinper, your habds going through her hair. "Hmm such a pretty girl. You‘re doing so good love." She praised you, smiling to herself. She would have a lot of fun with you in the future.

let me know If you liked it 🫶🏻 and sorry if pansy‘s part is so short but i ran out of time, ideas and i never wrote for her before 🤍

taglist: @justarandomcanadiantransdude @helendeath @thatonepansexual2000 @imabee-oralizard @supernaturaldawning @cardi-bre91 @sofa-couch26 @little-miss-naill @kolsangel @auxcordlawd @itsarajr @jolly4holly @hisparentsgallerryy @slytherinscreamqueen @mixvchelle @littlemadamred @ummmmmmm-username @jeannie-beannie @belle-blue @beautywine @sagetakami @simp-for-fantasy @whyamireadingthis

My masterlist and taglist 🤍

xoxo sarah <3

[megwritesriddles]

I Despise You ༊*·˚

18+ MDNI !!!

Pairing: Tom Riddle x Fem!Reader / You

Summary: Kinktober 2024 Day 1 - Angry Sex. Reader is the Head Girl and Riddle is the Head Boy, Riddle likes to push Reader's boundaries until it all boils over. Minimal plot but a smidge anyway.

Tags: Angry sex, P in V, Fingering (fem receiving), Unprotected sex, Magic as birth control, Enemies with benefits, Arguing (which is badly written oops), Attempt at angst, Tiny bit of sexism from Riddle, Reader is wearing a dress (I imagined one of those Sabrina Carpenter babydoll dresses lol), Head boy Riddle, Head girl Reader, Historical inaccuracy.

Word count: 3.4k

Read it on ao3! | Masterlist

Authors note: First installment of Kinktober and first post on tumblr!! woo!! please show me some love if you like it!! I am terrible at writing arguments because I hate confrontation irl oops!! Hope you like it anyway mwah ( ◕◡◕)っ ♡

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

Being appointed as Head Girl was supposed to be the best thing to ever happen to you. You’d been working toward it since at least the third year and it was all you ever seemed to hope for. It was meant to be an achievement that you and your friends would all celebrate, perhaps head down to the Three Broomsticks and spoil you with free drinks for the night in honour of your achievement. But, life wasn’t so kind.

When your position as Head Girl was announced all you had received from your friends were pitying looks, all due to the pesky little detail of who had been announced as Head Boy to serve alongside you. Tom Riddle. Tom. Fucking. Riddle. Of course, Professor Dippett had had to announce his name first, meaning you hadn’t even gotten a second of enjoyment from your appointment. He had stood up smugly at the Slytherin table, basking in the cheers from his house, flashing a charming smile to the room as he made his way to the front of the hall. For the first time in your life, at that moment, you had prayed that Head Girl would not be you. It was. Your name was called, your house applauded and your legs carried you over to Riddle’s side. He grinned down at you, that little glint of mockery in his eye that you could only see from this close. You wanted to punch him, that would surely lose you the Head Girl position and solve this problem, but you had your future to think of. You had repeated that to yourself all that night as you and Riddle had been whisked off to the staff room to be briefed on your positions and given your badges. Riddle was the picture of charm, laughing with the various professors that came to speak with you, you just sat there, smiling falsely, looking a little like you’d just been hit over the head with a plank. You felt like it too. Your lifelong dream had just been turned into something poisonous. Really, you thought to yourself as Slughorn guided you through the corridors to the Head’s quarters, you should have seen this coming. They weren’t supposed to appoint two students from the same house, so logically, if you were picked for Head Girl, it was only ever going to be Riddle at your side. You wondered why you hadn’t considered this before, it was so obvious with hindsight. You scowled at the back of his and Slughorn’s heads as you ascended some stairs, them chatting together jovially, making your blood boil.

Slughorn shows you the small common room, enough seating for about four people, a fireplace, and a little kitchenette with some stools, decorated with opulence. It would all have been very nice if it hadn’t been for Riddle standing there commenting on the lovely brass crests. The separate rooms were your biggest comfort, both off of little halls from the common room in different directions. You could hide in there from him, you told yourself over and over. You didn’t have the headspace to be impressed by the beautiful ensuites with golden-tapped baths, just wanting Slughorn to leave so you would no longer have to listen to Riddle’s disgustingly smooth voice. Eventually, Slughorn did leave the two of you to go to bed. As he shut the common room door, you could see Riddle’s mouth opening from the corner of your eye. You darted to your room before he could get the words out, slamming the door, relieved to find all your things already there. You collapsed onto the bed and sighed. The nightmare was only beginning.

The hands on the clock point to 3:30 am. It’s a Monday morning, you have a meeting with Dumbledore in just a few hours, but sleep is impossible. He has friends over again. The deep bass of their voices reverberates through the walls of the common room. They’re chatting and laughing like always, most likely drinking too, you’ve spotted them with whiskey a few times. You seethe with anger in your bed, just last week you had kindly approached him, and not for the first time, about this issue. You had emphatically asked him to be considerate of you and your time. He had placated you like always.

“Yes darling, I didn’t realise we were being so bothersome, won’t happen again,” he had soothed, but of course, it was happening again right now. You kept somehow getting caught in his charms, the very ones you had been immune to for so long. It had to be the sleep deprivation he was causing, that was what was making you melt a little whenever he called you darling or smiled just so, in the way that used to make you feel sick. In the dark of your room, you lie on your side and curse inwardly. Reporting him had crossed your mind many times, but you knew he would just charm his way out of it, like he did with everything. Your ears rumble with another deep laugh from the group of men in the other room and you’ve had enough. Throwing off your duvet and stomping to your bedroom door, you fling it open and head into the common room. He sits reclined leisurely in an armchair by the fireplace, his sleeves rolled up and tie loose. His ankles are crossed, resting on the coffee table in front of him, he chuckles at something, you couldn’t care less what, the firelight dancing over his face. He hasn’t noticed you, but across from him on the opposite armchair, his friend, Avery, straightens up and grins at you. His eyes drift over you, you realise instantly that you stomped out here in only your nightgown and socks and flush lightly, but stand your ground.

“Riddle!” you bark, surprising even yourself with the viciousness of your tone. This brings his attention to you effectively. His other two friends turn to look at you over the back of the sofa, Riddle doesn’t even straighten up when he looks up at you, smirking in a self-satisfied way that makes your insides twist oddly.

“Hello darling,” he speaks smoothly. “You look a picture tonight,” he lets his eyes drift up and down your figure without shame. You go red with anger and embarrassment.

“Doesn't she just?” One of his friends, Rosier, comments with a mocking chuckle. This sets you off.

“Out!” You screech. All the boys look taken aback by the intensity of your outburst. “Out, out, out!”

“Fine,” Riddle hisses in an infuriatingly calm tone. “You lot should go, you heard the Head Girl,” you hear the mocking tone in his voice, suggesting he thinks you’re hysterical. You stand there with your fists clenched, staring the men down as they get up and head for the door, feeling ridiculous but not wanting to show any weakness. Once they all leave and shut the door behind them, the two of you fall into silence for a moment. He’s watching you, but not in the leering way from earlier, he almost looks impressed with you. You avert your eyes from the closed door onto his face, he’s leaning forward now, with his elbows on his knees. Just when you’re considering simply turning to leave, he speaks up. “Happy now, darling? You’re really no fun, we were only talking,” his eyes fix on yours, burning deeply. You scoff indignantly.

“It’s nearly 4 am Riddle, you know I have a meeting in the morning, I have brought this up to you countless times and–”

“Yes, but you don’t seem to understand that I simply don’t care to keep you happy, darling,” he grins. You let out a frustrated yelp.

“You are unbelievable! How were you ever chosen for Head Boy when you're this insidious? You don’t deserve it!” You snap. This stirs something in him. His eyes darken and he stands up from the armchair.

“And you do, do you darling?” he asks slowly, stalking toward you. “You’re the picture of perfection, aren’t you just?” You’re not sure what to say to this, any answer seems wrong like it’ll give him reason to dig into you further. Your mouth opens and shuts for a moment before you settle on a shrug. Your hands flex in the fists they’re tightened into as a smirk spreads over his face. “You don’t seem so high and mighty from here,” he chuckles, stopping in front of you. He has several inches on you and you’re forced to look up at him. “You look lovely in this little nightie,” he comments with a grin, reaching out to trace the lace at the strap with the tip of his finger. You jolt away instantly, glaring up at him.

“Don’t you dare touch me! And don’t you dare comment on my looks!” You hissed, smacking his hand away. His eyes darken even more at this.

“And don’t you dare smack me,” he growls. “I was merely paying you a compliment,”

“Like hell you were!” You scoff. “You’re trying to make me feel small,” he rolls his eyes, shaking his head.

“If the shoe fits,” he grins. You scowl, shoving at him without thinking about it. He stumbles back slightly, looking momentarily bewildered. When he realises what you just did he surges for you. He grabs you by the shoulders and pushes you into the wall. You let out a small oof sound as you collide with the wall, surprised it didn’t hurt more than it did. For a moment, you wonder if he had avoided hurting you until you look up and see the fire in his eyes, then you wonder if he wishes he had just killed you. “I would have rather had literally anyone as Head Girl than you, you are the bane of my existence,” he snarls, gripping your shoulders hard.

“I’m the bane of your existence? I don’t have friends over until the small hours of the morning! Imagine how I feel!” You spit back. You can tell he’s barely listening to you.

“You are insufferable! You’re the only person who doesn’t fawn over the sight of me and it’s you that I get stuck with for the whole year!” he scoffs. “I will not let you control my lifestyle!” he adds angrily. “I will not bend my life to make you happy! I am not subservient to anyone and I never will be!” you roll your eyes exaggeratedly.

“You are ridiculous,”

“I despise you,” he hisses venomously. “You’re always everywhere I am, you’re always following me around, tailing me in every subject, you had to go for this position when I’ve had my sights locked on it since first year!” He pushes you back into the wall again. “Are you happy now darling? You got Head Girl and now we’re both miserable! You must be thrilled!”

“You think I’m following you around?” you sneer. “How full of yourself are you that you think me going for Head Girl was about you? You seem to think you’re the centre of everything, but in my life Riddle, you are just an inconvenience, you are nothing,” you seethed. Something flashes in Riddle’s eyes, his jaw working.

“I am nothing?” he demands. “I am nothing?” he’s shaking now and you’re sure he’s about to hex you or punch you, his eyes flick between yours, his whole body coiled tight and ready to pounce. Instead, his lips are suddenly on yours, thrusting your head back against the wall. You yelp in surprise, your eyes wide, the back of your head hurting from being pressed into the hard surface. He kisses you without a single hint of affection, kissing you like it’s a punishment, a way of muzzling you, but Merlin, somehow it feels good. He’s grabbing at you, taking fistfuls of your nightgown in his hands. You find that you’re kissing him back, that you have been practically since his lips met yours and that you’re doing so eagerly. Your head is spinning as his arms wrap around you and he pulls you harshly to him, the hard planes of his lean body pressing against you. Your arms snake around his neck and he lets you yank at his hair. He’s kissing you so hard that you’re practically tipping backwards. Your tongues rub against each other as you kiss frantically. He’s leading you to the sofa, throwing you down and then settling above you. He props himself up, his hands on either side of your head. You both take this moment to catch your breaths, staring intensely at each other as your chests rise and fall rapidly. “Am I still nothing?” he growls, a little breathless. Once again, you don’t know what the right thing to say is. One of his hands moves down and starts to push up the hem of your nightdress, revealing your thighs to his devouring eyes. You grab him and kiss him again instead of talking, just as hard and unforgiving as before.

You feel your nightdress being bunched at your waist and hear the faint sound of a zip being pulled down. You kiss him harder, nipping at his bottom lip harshly and scrunching your eyes shut. He just groans in response, pushing down his slacks haphazardly, his other hand keeping him propped up above you. You’re suddenly awfully overheated, both from lying on the sofa in front of the blazing fireplace and from the realisation of what he’s planning to do to you. Are you really going to do this? Are you really going to let him fuck you on the sofa in the common room? Riddle? The man you’ve hated for years? The man who has been deliberately antagonising you for the past several weeks, and especially tonight? Your hands are resting on his stomach, and you connect the dots in mild horror that you’ve been unbuttoning his shirt without even realising it. You feel completely out of control of yourself, you’ve never acted this way before. You gasp in surprise when you feel his fingers pressing against your core through the fabric of your underwear. His fingers rub roughly, sending jolts of pain and pleasure through you. You whine slightly, feeling him smirk against your lips. You scratch at his chest a little in retaliation. He grunts, you can’t tell if he likes it or not and it bothers you. His fingers hook into your underwear and start to tug down. This is your last chance to back out, to throw him off of you and run away, but you find yourself unable to do anything but writhe and cling to his shoulders. The underwear is discarded on the floor and he is using his free hand to spread your thighs open, you flush deeply as he pulls away from the kiss to look down at you. You can feel how wet you are and you hate that, based on the smug little grin on his face, he knows it too. Your cheeks are burning as he reaches down, using two fingers to spread your folds. He lets out a needy sound by accident and it’s your turn to gloat. He flashes you a glare and plunges a finger into your tight heat in revenge. This makes your back arch and your lips part and he smirks back at you.

“So wet…” he comments, self-satisfied, his finger creating obscene squelches as he pumps it in and out of you slowly. You snarl at him, lashing out in embarrassment. You grab at the tent in his boxers, feeling him rock-hard under the fabric. He frowns in embarrassment, withdrawing his finger from you which makes you whimper a little. “You’re asking for it now, darling,” he growls. He’s scrambling to rid himself of his boxers. His tip is quickly prodding at your entrance and you gasp and arch slightly. He glides against you for a moment, his tip rubbing deliciously at your clit, seeming like he’s waiting for something. Then, he’s plunging into you. You let out a pathetic little cry and he grins. “Does that feel good?” he coos mockingly as he fully seats himself inside you. You both gasp for breath as your tight heat embraces him. It does feel good, torturously so, but his mocking tone irks you.

“I hate you,” you growl up at him as he lowers himself onto his elbows, his face right above yours. He scowls, panting slightly.

“I hate you too, believe me,” his arms wrap around your shoulders, keeping you in place. He buries his face in your neck and starts to nip as his hips begin to rock harshly. His thrusts are hard and punishing, slow, withdrawing almost completely and then slamming forward, just short of painful. You whine and grab at his back, letting your nails dig into him, he doesn’t seem to mind. He speeds up, grunting loudly against your neck. He pulls back to watch as you move along with his thrusts, your eyes scrunched shut and lips parted with desperate whines. He pants, his hot breaths washing over your face. He speeds up even more, growling like a crazed animal. “Look at you, falling apart under me, what would your friends think?” he taunts. Your eyes squeeze tighter shut, a wave of shame passing through you that somehow heightens your pleasure.

“Shut the fuck up,” you whine. You hear him laughing mockingly. You muster your strength and clench your walls around him. His laugh morphs into a choked groan at the sensation, his hips stuttering. He was more affected by this than you expected, his pace now brutal as he fucks into you, clearly desperately chasing release now, rather than focusing on playing mind games on you. His lips meet yours again and you kiss back. It’s clumsy and sloppy, given how fast he’s moving, but it just heightens everything you’re feeling. “You gonna come already?” you mock as you feel him faltering in his thrusts. He groans angrily against your lips.

“I despise you,” he hisses shakily, propping himself back up so he can thrust into you more relentlessly. You return the sentiment, but it’s a little half-hearted now between whines. You cry out when you feel his thumb on your clit, rubbing hard. He seems oddly determined to have you orgasm before he does, perhaps to humiliate you, but it feels so good that you can hardly complain. He grunts loudly, you can tell he’s trying to goad you, but his speech is incoherent between sounds of pleasure and the slapping of skin against skin. You feel it building up and you can’t deny yourself the pleasure, you don’t try to hold back. However, he still falls apart first. His hips stutter then stop entirely and he groans loudly, you feel his seed spilling deep into you, warm ropes painting your inside. His thumb doesn’t let up its rubbing and it allows you to also reach your release. You pulse around his oversensitive cock and he gasps and whines pathetically, but continues rubbing you through it until all the aftershocks are over.

He remains propped above you, catching his breath for a while, his head hung low. You both whine slightly as he withdraws from you slowly, leaving you with a pop. He takes a shaky breath, staring at his essence that trickles out of you. You just stare at the ceiling, unsure what to do now. You feel the sofa dip as he reaches down to the floor, his chest touching yours as he lowers himself gently. He grabs his wand from his trouser pocket and props back up. He mumbles a spell, cleaning you of his essence and eliminating the chance of pregnancy. It pleases you a little that he took care of it, rather than leaving it up to you. He moves, sitting back on his haunches between your legs, lowering the hem of your nightdress to cover you back up. You stare at each other silently for a moment as he tucks himself away.

“This changes nothing between us,” he asserts, narrowing his eyes at you. You want to laugh at that, as clearly everything has just changed in some way, but you know what he means.

“Yeah, it changes nothing,” you repeat with a sigh. He glances over at the fireplace for a moment, before his eyes flick to the clock on the mantelpiece.

“Now chop chop, don’t you have that meeting with Dumbledore?” he grins. Your eyes widen and then you kick at him in frustration, realising what he’s done. He just laughs. “You better figure out a way to cover those hickeys quickly,” he smirks. You whine indignantly, burying your head in your hands.

“I’m going to kill you!”

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

xoxoxo

[cardansriddle]

Sugar - (tom riddle x fem!muggle!reader)

Summary: Perhaps it was an accident. Or perhaps the fates were mocking him. He had not meant to venture into the little coffee shop and he had most definitely not meant to return. But he kept coming back and the waitress kept putting sugar packets near his coffee every damn time.

Warnings: Tom gets possessive halfway through so it's pretty tame for him. not proofread. oh also self-indulgent crime & punishment debate (got a lil carried away).

A/N: 5.5k words but it's kinda mehh. to the person who requested this, i hope you enjoy it at least a little &lt;3

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ 

Tom felt as if he was a solitary figure in a world hushed by the winter's harsh embrace. With each step he took away from the desolate building of grey against the pristine canvas of winter, he felt lighter. He did not cast a look back towards the orphanage looming behind him, instead focused on the sound of the snow crunching beneath his feet as they led him further into the dark street cloaked in a thick layer of snow.

The wizard knew if he spent another moment in that cursed place he would have lashed out and killed someone, so he had hastily thrown his coat and emerald scarf around himself before slamming the door shut behind him. 

Two more years. He thought to himself. Then he would be out and would never be obligated to return again. Perhaps he would even burn the place to the ground if his plans worked out in his favour. 

The air was crisp, and his breath materialized in front of him with each exhale. His eyes quickly scanned the narrow empty alley for a suitable quiet place where he could pass his time. There was nothing interesting, except for the tiny bookstore nestled in the corner of the street that emitted a warm, golden light through its window. Tom quickly decided it would do, and he strode towards the place with purpose. A small bell chimed as he entered the place, which he quickly realised was a bookstore with a cosy coffee shop tucked inside. 

He inhaled the pleasant aroma of freshly brewed coffee mixed with the scent of weathered books. Before he could lose himself entirely in the intoxicating symphony of scents, a sudden, loud thud echoed from behind the counter, jolting him from his reverie.

"Blimey!" someone cursed, their voice slicing through the tranquillity. Tom found himself rooted to the spot, curiosity piqued, as a figure suddenly emerged from underneath the counter.

It was a girl. Unabashedly, his eyes traced the lines of her features, noting the delicate curve of her jaw and the cascade of hair that framed her face. He assumed she was around his age if not younger and he stared at the girl as she rubbed her head, wincing when she hit a particularly soft spot before she realised that she was not alone in the shop. She froze like a deer caught in the headlights and he watched as her cheeks flushed a deep shade of red. 

Tom, still an observer, saw more than just the blush; he discerned the subtleties of her response, the way her eyes momentarily widened before seeking refuge elsewhere, fingers fidgeting with the edges of her knitted cardigan.

She attempted to compose herself and met his eyes. "Oh! Sorry, sir. How may I assist you?" She asked cheerfully, resisting the urge to duck her head down to avoid his intense stare.

He crossed the small distance to the counter. "I'd like a coffee. Black."

"No sugar?" she inquired, to which Tom raised a single brow. Her blush deepened as she quickly averted her eyes from his face.

"Right, of course. You may take a seat while I prepare this for you." With a nod, she hurried to fulfil his request, leaving Tom alone with the lingering scent of coffee and old books that were now intertwined with a pleasant smell of vanilla and sweet— 

It was her perfume, he realised with a start.

He hastily removed his coat and scarf before plopping down on the nearest armchair. His gaze remained fixed on the girl, absorbed in the rhythm of her practised motions as she prepared his drink, her movements seemingly both effortless and comforting. There was an almost lazy grace to her actions and he continued to watch as she sang under her breath so softly if he had not been staring so intensely, he would not have picked up on it. 

He wondered how he had never noticed this place before. He had been passing through this little street for as long as he could remember but for some reason, he had only stumbled upon it today. His sharp eyes darted around, instinctively searching for traces of magic, half-expecting the discovery of a hidden passage to the wizarding world but he quickly realised the place was undeniably, disappointingly muggle. 

Muggle.

He tore his gaze away from the girl at the mental reminder of what she was. He fished out a book from his bag and opened it to occupy his mind. 

The subtle shuffle of her approaching steps drew his attention back to the present, and he met her gaze as she placed the steaming cup of coffee before him. A sugar packet sat innocently beside it. His eyes lingered on the packet for a moment before lifting coldly to meet hers.

She, however, was undeterred by the intensity of his glare. “In case you change your mind.” She smiled at him softly before turning on her heel and walking back.

His gaze lingered on her retreating figure, and then, almost involuntarily, it dropped to the innocuous sugar packet.

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ 

Tom did not know why he had returned. Truthfully, he had not even noticed his feet had led him here until he was in front of the familiar wooden door that led into the coffee shop. Perhaps he had thought more than he should’ve about the disgustingly soft smile of that girl for the last five months. She was an insolent muggle, yet here he was, walking into the place as if he had never left. 

The seasons had blurred since he had last been here. Winter had long surrendered to the warmth of summer. He had to spend at least a month in the orphanage, and he was hoping Malfoy would invite him over for the rest of the summer. 

The place was just as he remembered it. The only difference was the lack of Christmas decorations. He faltered only slightly when he took notice of the girl behind the counter, already staring at him. She had not changed much. Her face was the same, less pale perhaps, but the same, nonetheless. The oversized knitted sweater that once enveloped her had been replaced by a little white sundress, and his gaze involuntarily lingered on the exposed smooth skin.

“Welcome back!” She greeted him cheerfully, and he was not surprised she remembered him. “What can I get you?”

“Black coffee,” he replied curtly

She nodded as if she was expecting it. "Coming right up." Gently shutting her book, she gracefully moved towards the coffee machine. Tom's eyes couldn't help but trail to the volume she had been reading, and to his pleasant surprise, it was Dostoyevsky. He had not pegged her as someone who would enjoy Russian literature, with its weighty and morally morbid themes. In his mind, she seemed more likely to be a Jane Austen enthusiast, with her intricately written romances and flowery prose.

“It’s 'Crime and Punishment'." He suddenly heard her soft voice declare, and he looked away from the book to give his attention to the girl. Then feeling as if she had said something silly, she blushed and looked away quickly. "Though I'm sure you figured that. I just wondered why you look so surprised." 

He replied before he could tell himself not to. "I did not imagine you as someone who would enjoy this." 

Emboldened at his words, she turned to face him, a hand casually resting on her hip as she sported a cheeky smile. "Am I to presume you imagine me often?"

His sharp inhale was audible as he absorbed the unexpected shift in her demeanour. He had not expected this shy, timid girl to tease him so boldly. She was a little vixen.

But he did not give her the satisfaction of getting a reaction out of him. A lazy raise of his brow was the extent of his acknowledgement before his gaze wandered towards the rows of bookshelves, feigning indifference. "Do you have another copy? Perhaps I shall like to reread this evening."

She frowned, walking over towards the table he had occupied last time to set his coffee down. He grimly took notice of the sugar packet placed near it. "I'm afraid not. But you can have mine." 

"No, that is quite alri—" He began to decline but she had already crossed the small distance between them and was holding out the thick book. He hesitated for a moment before his fingers closed around the object, careful to avoid touching hers. 

The girl smiled and walked away before he could even say thanks. Not like he was going to. 

Settling back into the soft armchair, he opened the book only to freeze at the sight of a name scribbled on the front page and he knew it belonged to her. The wizard rolled the name around in his mind and determined that it suited her. He stared at her name for a minute longer before turning the page and delving into the content of the book. 

He had been so immersed in the story that he had not noticed how the time had passed. The gradual hush of the coffee shop's ambient sounds finally penetrated his concentration, and he distinctly heard the girl approaching him. 

"I'm sorry to disturb you but we're closing in five minutes." She looked at the book in his hands. "You may return it once you're done." 

He hummed and looked down at where he had stopped. 

"We sometimes encounter people, even perfect strangers, who begin to interest us at first sight, somehow suddenly, all at once, before a word has been spoken."

He wondered if the universe was trying to tell him something. 

Tom found himself caught in the silent narrative of this stranger's presence.

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ 

He returned the next day.

She looked up to see him enter, the sleeves of his button-up shirt rolled up. 

Tom placed the book on the counter. 

"You finished it in one day?"

He shrugged. "I'm a fast reader." 

She gave him a small smile, turning to make his black coffee before he could ask for it. "Every time I reread it it takes me a few days." She paused for a moment, turning to look at him over her shoulder. "The usual?"

He nodded. "The usual." He debated whether or not to voice his next question, and decided one conversation with the girl would not hurt.

"Why do you read it so often?"

"Each time I find new details that make Raskolnikov's character more complex. Each time I discover these small little things I missed the last time I read it becomes so much better. Plus I enjoy his moral dilemma."

He hummed, his curiosity piqued. He took his usual seat and watched as she brought his coffee and set it down in front of him. "Enlighten me." He gestured towards the seat in front of him. She hesitated only for a second before taking a seat. 

"Raskolnikov is obviously a complex character. His actions are driven by a desire for power and superiority, a belief that he is exempt from conventional morality. However, one could argue that his internal struggles and eventual remorse suggest a more nuanced exploration of morality." 

Tom furrowed his brows. "I see him as a product of his environment, a desperate man driven to extremes by the harsh circumstances he faced. His morality shifts to the other side of the spectrum." 

She cocked her head to the side, and he could see her getting slightly frustrated. "But morality is not just a spectrum; it's a complex interplay of values, societal norms, and personal convictions. Raskolnikov's guilt stems from the clash between his actions and the intrinsic moral compass within him. It's the consequence of recognizing the weight of one's choices."

He scoffed before he could stop himself. "Morality is subjective. What is right for one may not be right for another. Raskolnikov was weak and he was an idiot. Guilt is a useless emotion and it is for the weak."

Her expression remained unwavering. "But perhaps it's that recognition of guilt that separates the morally discerning from those who lack empathy. The fact that you can't comprehend his guilt doesn't make it foolish. It makes it human."

Tom's eyes narrowed a glint of impatience in his gaze. "Human or not, guilt is a hindrance. It's a sentiment for those too feeble to rise above their actions. If I were to make a difficult choice, I would do it without hesitation, without remorse." 

He only realised the slip of his tongue after the words left his mouth. He stilled, gauging her reaction yet her response was measured but firm. "Raskolnikov's guilt is a testament to his humanity, his ability to grapple with the consequences of his choices. It's what sets him apart from those who operate without remorse." 

"But—"

"So what you're saying is you would kill and feel no remorse?" She cut him off.

Yes.

"You do not understand." He did not intend his tone to be so harsh, yet the words left his mouth coldly. She visibly withdrew and nodded stiffly. "Right. Enjoy your coffee."

He opened his mouth to say something but realised for the first time in his life he did not know what to say. 

He was left staring at the cursed sugar packet she had left near his coffee again.

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ 

He did not return the next day. Nor the day after. Or after.

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ 

Two weeks passed with no sign of him.

And then she saw him step into the coffee shop. He walked in with determination. He walked up to the counter, meeting her gaze with an intensity that mirrored the unspoken tension between them. "I'd like a black coffee," he said, his tone even, though a hint of something lingered beneath the surface. 

She nodded, her expression composed but guarded. As she prepared the coffee, the air seemed charged with unspoken words. Her usual cheerful smile was notably absent. The absence struck him, and he realised he had enjoyed her smiles.

When she placed the coffee in front of him, there was a palpable pause. He glanced at the sugar packet, a subtle acknowledgement of the lingering disagreement. Without a word, he took it, his eyes meeting hers briefly before he poured the sugar into his coffee. 

She looked at him, her gaze unwavering, before a small, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corner of her lips. 

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ 

He returned the next day. And the day after that. And for the rest of summer.

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ 

The next time he stepped into the familiar place, winter had covered the city with a snowy blanket once again. It had been a year since he first discovered this little place. And he had not seen his little waiter since he left for Hogwarts in September. 

When he walked in, her eyes lit up visibly. "Hi!" She waved at him with a bright grin. 

"Hello." He greeted as he unwrapped his scarf and settled in his usual seat. In a matter of minutes, she was bringing him his usual order. She was back to wearing her warm knitted sweaters. "How did you enjoy the book?"

"Oscar Wilde never disappoints," he said. She hummed in agreement, pleased at his words. He watched as her hands dropped to fidget with the bottom of her sweater. "You wish to ask me something." He stated. "Ask."

"Do you study in a boarding school?"

Tom hesitated only for a moment before replying. "Yes."

"Oh. Well, that explains the months of not showing up."

"Were you expecting me?" He teased her with an amused smirk, taking delight in the way her cheeks reddened. 

"I was just wondering that is all," she admitted, a hint of curiosity peeking through. Tom observed her, noting the return of the timid, shy girl from their first encounter. It amused him how a few teasing remarks could momentarily whisk away her fiery boldness. He couldn't help but wonder what it would take to awaken it once again.

"And do you wonder about me often, little vixen?" he added, a playful glint in his eyes.

She blushed harder at the nickname but then as if a thought had struck her, she straightened and Tom watched as she visibly mustered up her courage. "I actually was wondering your name."

He bristled, but she must have not noticed because she continued. "I suppose I have not given you mine either." She mused out loud and announced her name to him. "But I thought it bizarre that considering all the time we've talked we never got around to that. Friends who do not each other's names." The girl laughed at the last notion and only then she realised that Tom had remained unnervingly quiet throughout the exchange. She raised her eyes from the frayed edges of her sweater, and the sight almost made her take a step back. His eyes had darkened, and she could have sworn she saw them flash red. There was no warmth, no familiarity in his gaze. 

"Are you alright?"

Suddenly, he rose from his seat, an ominous tension permeating the air as he advanced towards her with every word. "We are not friends. You dare to think I would be friends with the likes of you?" His words were sharper than the keenest of blades, cutting into her with merciless precision. "Foolish, little girl," He spat out before grabbing his things and storming out of the place. As the door closed behind him, the little coffee shop seemed to exhale, the echoes of his harsh words lingering in the hushed aftermath.

She stood frozen in her place, helpless against the storm of emotions and the tears that began to veil her vision. 

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ 

Tom fumed for months after their last encounter. How dare the ignorant muggle insinuate that they were friends? He scarcely considered his Knights of Walpurgis as his friends, and she thought she would just appoint herself the title? Who did she think she was?

"Mate, you alright? You've been unresponsive for a while." Malfoy nudged him slightly, attempting to draw his attention back to the present.

Tom made a noise of acknowledgement before mentally shaking the image of his little waiter— no, not his, he berated himself— from his mind. 

But no matter how he tried, he could not. He could not just banish her from his thoughts. He knew a part of him, a rather embarrassingly large part of him enjoyed her company, her passion, her conversations— just her. 

And there, tucked away in the recesses of his trunk, lay her damned book— a taunting reminder of her. The temptation to burn it, to obliterate any remnants of her from his life, danced on the edge of his thoughts. He had shoved away, out of sight if only just to save himself the fury, the anger, (the longing).

He wondered if she was going through the same turmoil as him. He hoped she was. She had no right to make him feel this way and get away with it unscathed. 

But she was too enticing to give up. He did not know what it was about her. She was a muggle, an ordinary, plain girl working at a forgotten little cafe. Sure, she liked books, but so did a lot of other people. Yes, she was pretty, but so were a lot of other girls. But none could even come close to stirring his emotions as she did.

Perhaps it was the ease with which she conversed with him. Or the entirely too cheery smiles. Or her endearing knitted sweaters— though he secretly favoured the sundresses.

He, of course, knew what it was. He had tried to deny the idea to himself, but there was no escaping it. Tom had never been able to be unequivocally authentic with another individual before. From his early childhood, he refused to allow anyone close to him. He never lowered his walls and rejected anything that would yield a genuine connection. It was refreshing with her. He had no cause to uphold a curated facade.

Had she not been a muggle, he would entertain the thought of her bewitching him. He would have been convinced the girl put some spell on him or slipped a potion into his drink. 

It was maddening. 

She was maddening.

He sighed upon realising that he had spiralled again thinking of her. He needed to return the book, and maybe that would ease his mind. Perhaps once he was rid of her possession, she would not haunt him anymore. (Though he knew he was only trying to reassure himself with the last thought.)

As summer loomed around the corner, it felt both too distant and too imminent, mirroring the paradox of his tangled emotions.

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ 

The sound of her laugh rang out before he could even close the door behind him. His head snapped up so fast it was a wonder he did not get whiplash. But there she was, his little waiter, chuckling delightfully as some boy spoke lowly from behind the counter. Chuckles escaped her lips, and she bit down on her lip in a futile attempt to stifle the laughter, her hands deftly at work preparing a drink. Despite her efforts, laughter bubbled forth once more, forcing her to set the cup down to avoid any potential spills.

An immediate surge of anger coursed through him. Who was this boy? What business did have with her? What right did he have to elicit such genuine laughter from her? (Most importantly, how dare she replace him?)

Tom swallowed the lump in his throat, attempting to gather himself into some semblance of a composed, unaffected man that he most definitely was not at that moment. With a loud, purposeful cough, he sought to catch her attention.

She spun around, the practised smile reserved for customers settling onto her face as she readied herself to serve him. However, the smile swiftly vanished the moment her doe-like eyes locked onto him. She looked like a deer caught in headlights as she stared at him, wide eyes roving over his face as if to confirm that he was really standing there, in front of her, and was not a figment of her imagination. 

Because despite their last encounter, despite the anger, and the hurt she had felt, she kept hoping he would return. She kept imagining him standing there, with his ridiculously fancy scarf as he spewed out an apology. She had delved so deep into her fantasies involving him that now that he was actually there, she did not what to do or to say. Her tongue was tied, and her brain was fogged. What was she supposed to say?

It seemed he decided to grant her mercy and be the first to break the tense silence.

“Hello.” 

“Hi.”

He shuffled closer, though his steps were unsure, unlike his usual confident strides that she was used to seeing. “I wished to return your book.” He declared yet made no move to reach into his bag for the said book. He allowed his eyes to drink in the sight of her, her eyes that always seemed to glisten, her hands that were always fidgeting, her little sundress that he was afraid would drive him to insanity, (and her lips that he wished he could press against his own just so he could find out what they felt like, tasted like.) He shoved the last one into a drawer in his mind and locked it away. He could not fantasise about her. She was a muggle. He could not stoop so low as to hold affections for a muggle girl.

“Did you enjoy it?” The girl asked tentatively as if afraid one wrong word would set him off, have him spitting more harsh words that would dig deep into her skin and remain there. 

“As always.” He replied. Because every book she gave him held another meaning. She was a clever girl, choosing the ones that she knew would have him coming back with a strong debate prepared in his mind. They always seemed to stand on opposite sides of every argument that the books posed, ensuring that their discussion would get heated, exciting, and thrilling. 

While Tom vehemently disagreed with her views, he found pleasure in the way her mind worked. He admired her quick-wittedness, her ability to counter every argument he posed. No one else had engaged him in such stimulating conversations. She was a breath of fresh air, a captivating force he wanted to inhale and never release. He yearned to suffocate in the essence of her being, to be consumed and to consume in return. He wanted to own her— that irrational desire to keep her for himself was always there in the deeper parts of his mind that he was scared to venture into.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.” She responded but he could detect the subtle undercurrent of uncertainty in her voice.

He hesitated. “May I have one black coffee?” He was extending an olive branch, and while it was not an outright apology, coming from Tom, it was a whole declaration. 

“It’s five minutes until closing time.” 

She would not be swayed so easily then. 

Fine. Tom thought. He would make her come to her senses. 

The boy who he had forgotten was still there suddenly came to stand next to him. Tom eyed him with disdain, his features curling into an unimpressed sneer, raising a lazy brow.

“I’ll help her close up, mate. You can leave now.” 

“Daniel, that is not necessary.” She muttered, glancing between the two men nervously. Daniel? Tom clenched his jaw, enraged. In his absence, it seemed she had gotten on first-name basis with a boy. His mouth soured with the taste of betrayal at her blatant ignorance. How could she discard him so easily? Had she not suffered all these months at the mere thought of him? Had he been alone in his suffering?

“No,” Tom stated flatly. “You will leave.” He told the boy then turned to face his waiter. “We will talk.” 

“Tom, I do not think—”

He cut her off with a hiss. “It was not a request.”

Daniel seemed wholly displeased. He opened his mouth to argue, but his girl beat him to it. “It’s okay, Daniel. I will see you some other time.”

“Whatever he has to tell you, surely he can say in front of me.”

She shook her head gently, trying to dissuade him. “It’s a matter between him and I. I would rather talk privately.” 

Tom looked smug as he faced Daniel again, struggling to contain his smirk. He could see the indignation clear on the boy’s face as his eyes flickered dubiously between her and Tom. He knew the wizard was no ordinary acquaintance of her, he could feel the palpable tension in the air like a wolf. 

Tom, of course, wished to push his buttons further, just to have the last word. “You heard her. Leave.” 

Daniel scoffed. “I will see you tomorrow then.” He muttered and with one last long look, he squared his shoulders and left the café with as much dignity as his wounded pride could muster. 

As the door shut with a final thud, they were left in pregnant silence, both unsure of the dynamics at play between them. The air in the café hung heavy with unspoken tension as if the silence itself had taken on a weight, pressing down on them both. The ticking of the clock on the wall seemed louder than usual, each second echoing in the quiet space.

She was the first to cave. "Well? You wished to talk." Gesturing towards him with a hand expectantly. "Talk." 

Tom inhaled sharply, and for the first time in his life, he did not quite know what to say. How to proceed. 

"Who is he?" The question tumbled from his lips before he could stop it. 

She raised a brow. "Seriously? After how you walked out of here last time I would think your choice of words would be different."

"Different? I hardly think the question was unfair."

She huffed impatiently, discarding her apron as she turned from him to put everything away for the night. "Of course. How foolish of me to assume that you have no business inquiring about my life when we are not even friends." She chuckled bitterly. "You made the notion quite appalling if memory serves me right. You wish to know who is Daniel? For all you know, he could be my fiancee. Would it matter? No. Because you and I are hardly acquaintances." 

An unfamiliar feeling began coiling in the pit of his stomach, and he suddenly felt sick. She briefly turned to fix him with a pointed glare and froze at the look on his face. The dancing flames of the candles seemed to mirror the flickering emotions in Tom's eyes—flames of irritation, discontent, and an unexpected pang of jealousy.

Tom could scarcely believe his fate. How was it that he— the most powerful wizard of his generation— had succumbed to the pathetic disease of— what was it? Desire? Lust? Infatuation? Such mundane urges were beneath him, he had no wish to pursue anyone or anything that was not remotely related to his quest for power. Yet there she was. In her infuriating fucking dress and those innocent eyes. Did she even know what sort of turmoil she had caused him?

All of a sudden he felt exhausted, defeated. His shoulders sunk visibly as he ran a hand through his hair. He would use a hundred of her sugar packets in his coffee if it meant she would just grace him with her bubbly smile again and just— just what? Leave him be? He did not want that. Treat him as if nothing had happened? Maybe. Release him from whatever enchantment she put him under? Yes.

"What do you want from me?" He asked at last, frustration clear in his voice.

She regarded him with disbelief as she rounded the counter to stand directly in front of him. "What do I want from you?" She repeated incredulously. "I want an apology! I want an explanation! I want—" she sighed, cutting herself off before she could finish the thought. "You cannot just show up here demanding things and ordering people around after how you treated me last time. If you wish to continue this conversation, you will apologise to me."

"You want me to say sorry?" He took a step towards her.

"Yes!"

"Fuck your apology." 

Before she could register what was happening, Tom closed the minute distance between them and caved into his desire. He grabbed her face, fingers threading through her hair, and pressed his lips against hers. The kiss was not gentle; it was a collision of pent-up tension and bottled-up desires.

Tom's lips moved fervently against hers, pouring his frustration into the act. It was a silent declaration that transcended the boundaries of his complicated inner turmoil. Tom knew that. But he could not pull away from her— not after having tasted how her lips feel like. 

Her hands, which had hovered hesitantly in the space between them, found their way to his shoulders, fingers gripping the fabric of his coat, pulling him closer. 

She felt—tasted like God's favourite nectar, sweet and addictive and he knew he would never get enough of it. She might not have been a witch, but he was bewitched by her. 

As they broke apart, breathless, the air between them hung heavy with the residue of their shared kiss. He dared not to ease his hold on her, only stared at her with darkened eyes, taking delight in the way her lips were bruised, and puffy, all because of him. But it was not enough. He needed to mark her for all to see. 

He dove into the tender skin of her throat like a man starved, teeth sinking into her flesh with no warning, and a sick sort of satisfaction washed over him at the muffled moan that escaped her mouth. He sucked on the skin until he was sure there would be a purple mark blooming on the spot before running his tongue over the flesh to soothe the sting. He did not waste any second before moving to mark another spot.

"I do not even know your name." She managed to choke out in between her whimpers, hands moving of their own accord to tangle in his hair, and a particular tug had him growling deep in his throat. 

"Tom." He whispered, pulling away from her neck only to return his lips to hers. "Say it. Say my name." He murmured in between the kisses, pushing her back until her back was pressed against the counter. He easily picked her up to place her on the surface, his fingers trailing along her thighs to her knees to nudge them apart so he could stand in between them. 

"Tom." She breathed out in a daze, and he smirked in delight. 

She was his. He had already branded her, and he would do much more to ensure she knew it was him she belonged to. 

He leaned to brush his lips against the shell of her ear. "I hope you know there is no going back from this. From me." He whispered, fingers slipping under the strap of her dress and dragging it down her shoulder slowly. "You are my dirty little secret now. Mine."

She shuddered under the weight of his words but he was already snaking his hand around her throat as his lips found home on her own once again.

No going back.

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ 

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[cruel-seduction]

Slytherin Boys

Mattheo Riddle

★ Mattheo Riddle Headcanon (18+)

Warning: This piece contains themes of possessiveness, obsessive behavior, and dark romance undertones. Mattheo's love might be overwhelming, intense, and not suited for everyone’s taste. Reader discretion is advised.

★ Bloodstained Knuckles, Burning Lips:

You and Mattheo Riddle have been at each other’s throats for as long as you can remember. But when your best friend casually drops the bomb that Mattheo threw punches for your dignity, everything shifts. Was it just a reckless fight���or is there something simmering beneath the surface?

Blurb

(୨୧) Baby, You're a goddess

Theodore Nott

★ Theodore Nott Headcanons (18+)

Warning: This piece contains themes of possessiveness, obsessive behavior, and dark romance undertones. Theodore’s devotion might be overwhelming, intense, and not suited for everyone’s taste. Reader discretion is advised.

Tom Riddle

★ Tom Riddle Headcanon || 18+

Warning - This piece contains themes of possessiveness, obsessive behavior, and dark romance undertones. Tom's manipulated love might be overwhelming, intense, and not suited for everyone’s taste. Reader discretion is advised.

Other characters Yet to come

[tomriddleslovergirl]

The Guest of Riddle Manor

Pairing: Tom Riddle x Fem!Reader

Warnings: smut, p in v, oral (fem receiving), nipple play, fem reader, past trauma, mentions of war, semi-public sex

Word count: 4.3k

Summary: Sent off to stay at Riddle Manor after your home was destroyed, you meet the enigmatic Tom Riddle.

Riddle Manor towered above you. It’s been a while since you’d seen a house so untorn from the consequences of war, and so, you couldn’t help but just stand there and take it in.

In your hand, you held a suitcase. Almost all of your belongings rested there. Your family's business had been going through a rather rough time, and so many of your dresses and other luxuries had been sold off to keep afloat. This saddened you greatly but it had to be done.

The reason for you being at Riddle Manor was because your neighborhood was one of the many victims of the bombings. It was horrible! For a great many days afterwards, you could not sleep without the fear of a repeat of the incident looming over you, and you would now also awaken at the smallest of sounds. Hearing of the violent news, Mr. Riddle so kindly sent out a letter to your family. In it, he had written of welcoming your family as guests at Riddle Manor.

Your family’s business had been doing rather well, and you had a small inkling that Mr. Riddle thought that by welcoming your family as guests to his home, your parents and Riddle’s already strong friendship would become even stronger, and that once your parents got over the current rough patch in their company’s sales, they might reward him handsomely.

You had arrived at Little Hangleton late in the evening, and the shadows of the setting sun made the building look almost haunting.

Walking towards the front door of Riddle Manor, a strange and sudden ache spread itself through your mind. You brought your free hand up to your head to massage your temples. The train ride to Little Hangleton must have taken an ever bigger toll on you than you had thought.

Just then, you had gotten the feeling that you were being observed. Almost as if your body had a separate mind to your own, you looked up. In one of the many windows, a pale face looked down at you. Your eyes locked with his before he quickly hid behind the curtains.

You thought it was rather strange but brushed it off.

You knocked on the front door, and after a few moments an old woman opened the door. Her hair was cut into a bob and it was of the colour grey. The woman’s wrinkled face wore a look of annoyance. She wore a maids uniform.

She gave you a look over before speaking, “Mr. Riddle has been expecting you, girl. I’ll take you to him.” She turned around and added: “Don’t bother with taking your shoes off.”

Stopping inside the foyer, you shut the door behind yourself, and rubbed your shoes on the carpet so as not to track in any dirt.

The maid led you to the drawing room, where a man who looked to be in his early forties sat. He was a rather attractive man, and though he was older, there was not one grey hair on his head. His skin was pale and a kind contrast against this dark hair and eyes.

Mr. Riddle got up from where he was seated. “Oh, how lovely it is to finally meet you!” He grabbed your hand with his own gloved one and gave it a quick shake.

“And it is nice to meet you, Mr. Riddle.” Your hand limply fell back to your side once Mr. Riddle let go of it.

He looked you up and down. Though you tried to look your best so you could make a good first impression, you could not help but feel embarrassment creep upon you under his intense gaze.

“As it happens, you’re right on time,” said Mr. Riddle. He gestured for the maid to take you luggage. She grabbed it and left to place it in what you presumed to be your bedroom. “My son – Tom – and I were just about to have dinner. You can eat and then go up to the room you will be staying in to unpack.”

“That sounds nice,” You agreed.

“Yes, it does. Now, follow me.” Mr. Riddle led you out of the drawing room and into the Manor’s halls. You tried not to gawk at the various paintings hung upon the vast walls, but it was rather difficult not to. In each one was a handsome, pale skinned man or woman, with dark hair and eyes to match. They were similar to that of Mr. Riddle, so you thought they must have been his ancestors.

Once you reached the dining room, your gaze landed on a boy around your age. He sat with perfect posture, with a small, leatherbound book in one of his hands that he must have been reading before you and Mr. Riddle barged in. He placed the book down on the table.

Mr. Riddle pulled out a chair for you, and you sat down. Your seat was across from his son’s. Mr. Riddle sat at the head of the table.

“My name is Tom. What might yours be?” the boy – whose name you just discovered – asked.

You told him your name.

The food arrived, and though you tried not to stare at Tom over the course of the meal, you couldn’t help but notice his beauty. He looked very similar to his father, and the fact that they were kin was undeniable. If Mr. Riddle were any younger they could have passed for twins.

“I do hope you will like it here,” said Mr. Riddle after swallowing a forkful of vegetables.

“I’m sure I will.”

Dinner was tense, to say the least. Tom and Mr. Riddle didn’t speak much to each other, which you had found strange because they were father and son.

After you were done eating, Mr Riddle excused you. The maid from before led you to the room you would be staying in.

Before leaving you to settle in, she gifted you with a warning: “It’s best not to leave your room at night. Who knows what one can be up to at the wee hours of the night.”

The warning left you confused, but you didn’t linger on it for too long. You chalked it up to the maid not wanting to have any additional messes she would have to clean up in the morning.

You spent the next little while unpacking your suitcase. You hung your clothing in the mahogany wardrobe, and placed the several books and stationary you brought with you on the desk.

Afterwards, you took a warm bath, changed into a baby pink nightgown, and tried to go to sleep.

Though you were quite exhausted by the day's happenings, you didn’t fall asleep as quickly as you wished to. The fear of waking up to a crushed house overcame you, and you had to pace around the room for what could have been hours just to come yourself down. You were safe now… is what you kept telling yourself. Eventually, you tired yourself down enough so that you could fall asleep.

The knocking of the door was what awoke you the next morning. An agitated groan passed through your lips; You had just finally fallen asleep! You now didn’t wish to get out of bed.

“I don’t mean to be a burden, but I must insist you open the door, Miss.”

Your eyes cracked open in horror. It was Mr. Riddle’s son!

You cleared your throat before replying: “One moment!” You grabbed a robe from your wardrobe and threw it on.

Opening the door, you were faced with Tom. Though it was early in the morning, Tom was impeccably dressed. He wore a crisp, grey suit with a white button down shirt along with a dark green tie. His dark hair was styled with gel to hold it in place, similarly to how his father wore it the day before. If one saw you next to him, they must have thought you to be the toad and him the prince.

“Is there something I could help you with?”

“Perhaps.” A soft sigh passed through his lips. "I am to show you around Riddle Manor so that you know your way around.” 

“So early in the morning?” You couldn’t help but question him on his choice of timing. You heard no birds chirping to pull you out of the hypnotism dreams put one under, and no sun agitated your eyes into opening.

“It’s best to get certain things finished as soon as possible rather than wait around.” His tone left no room for argument, and so the desire to have an extra bit of sleep was diminished.

“Am I allowed to get ready for the day, or would you rather not be kept waiting?” you couldn’t help but tease the boy. You never spoke much to boys, but the ones from your past neighborhood that had you grown up with never acted so refined.

Tom pressed his lips into a thin line. “I’ll wait.”

Casting one final glance at Tom, you shut the door.

Quickly, you brushed your teeth, and put on a fine, navy blue dress. You handled your hair with not as much care as you usually would, but you were in a rush.

After you were done with focusing on your beauty, you re–opened the door.

“I’m ready.”

Tom inhaled through his nose. “This will be quick.”

You followed behind Tom as he led you around the manor.

“You won’t be needing to go through many of these doors. I presume you already know where both the drawing room and the dining room are… I am not sure why my father put me up to this, as you shouldn’t be leaving the room much unless it was to eat.”

Your eyes widened at this. “Excuse me?”

Tom down at you blankly. “Where else would you go?”

You shrugged your shoulders. You hadn’t expected him to say such a thing.

“Well, we do have a library, if that interests you,” said Tom.

You nodded in delight. “I love to read.”

“Good.”

You followed Tom as he led you to the library. Once entering there, you couldn’t help but be amazed. At Least you wouldn’t have to read the several books you brought along with you repeatedly over the course of your stay.

“What kind of books does your family own?” You ran your fingers down a shelf of books as you walked down one of the aisles, looking for something that peaked your interest.

“I’m not quite sure. None of the books here have held my interest since I was a young boy,” Tom answered honestly.

You stopped at that, and looked over at him. Yet again, you were reminded of his beauty. He looked like the kind of man one would watch in the pictures. He matched the aesthetic of an academic quite well, as he looked to be quite an elegant man; One who would spend his free time studying the pages of the books held in this vast room.

“But I saw you reading yesterday at dinner,” the words slipped through your mouth with no reason other than wishing to continue the conversation. You resumed exploring the shelves, with Tom following behind you like a mother hen who didn’t wish for her chick to wander off and get lost.

“Yes,” Tom’s melodic voice was closer behind you than you had expected it to be, “I was.” After a pause, he resumed: “It’s a book related to my school studies.”

You frown, and stop walking, turning around to face him “But it’s summer! It is the time given for one to relax.”

“I find myself quite entranced by my university studies,” he replied simply.

“I suppose that is a good thing.” You were happy with Tom’s answer, and so let him be.

Soon, you and Tom made your way to the dining room to have breakfast.

There was not much talk during the meal, besides Mr. Riddle asked Tom if he’d given me a tour of the manor, to which he replied with a simple: “Yes, I have. She’s taken an interest in the library.”

“Well,” Mr. Riddle started, after swallowing a strawberry, “That is good to hear… Now, I will be departing tonight. I have a business trip I must go on. I’ll only be gone for a little over a week, so not too long. I trust you two will behave yourself?” Mr. Riddle gave Tom and you a pointed look.

“Yes, Father,” answered Tom.

“Of course, Sir.”

“Good, good.” Mr. Riddle looked over at you. “I truly hadn’t expected to leave so early on into your visit, I do hope you don’t think I’m trying to escape my duties as a host?”

You couldn’t help but crack a smile at that. “Of course not.”

Mr. Riddle left in the middle of the night, while you slept.

The next day was a bore. You ate breakfast, and Tom didn’t seem keen on making any conversation.

You spent the rest of the waking hours catching up on lost sleep, and when night fell, you still found that you were exhausted, but were unable to sleep. Having missed dinner, you were also hungry.

Laying in bed for a few moments, you listened to the heavy rain patter against the windows. You may have found it calming, if it didn’t remind you of that night… It had been raining quite a bit the day your house was destroyed, and so memories of that time spread across your mind, like a river that never ended.

Rain, crying, smoke… It was all too much for you.

You got out of bed and decided to grab a book from the library to entertain yourself and a snack from the kitchen.

Barefoot, you snuck out of your room, and made your way to the library. Thunder could be heard through the thick walls, making a chill go down your spine. You entered the library and explored the shelfs. Some of the books were about business; Nothing that held much of your interest. Soon enough, you found the shelves for fiction. There, you snatched up a hardback copy of Frankenstein. You had heard a bit about it, and tonight was the night you would finally allow yourself to be consumed by the piece of literature.

The next part of your plan was to get a snack from the kitchen to eat while you read in bed. Oh… how you couldn’t wait to do so. Tonight would be as calm a night as you could make it.

You tiptoed down the hall when you suddenly bumped into Tom. A scream of surprise tore through your throat and you dropped your book onto the ground. You clutched your clothed chest as you took in a few breaths of air to calm yourself.

“You scared me, Tom!”

“As I can see…” Tom crouched down and picked up your book, before standing up and holding it out for you. You stared down at his pale hand for a moment – noting its beauty just like the rest of him – before grabbing the novel.

“Thank you.” You held the book to your chest.

“You shouldn’t be up so late,” his voice was crisp, and reminded you of that of a teacher’s.

“But you are up, or am I speaking with a ghost who imitates others?” You quirked a brow.

Tom looked you up and down. His adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed before his dark eyes looked back into yours. You were suddenly aware that you were just in your nightgown.

He held his hands behind his back. “And I suppose you’re going back to bed?”

You shake your head. “No… I was hoping to grab a snack from the kitchen.”

Tom’s shoulders sagged, if only just a little bit. “I’ll join you.”

Tom took the lead, and you both made your way to the kitchen. First, you grabbed a glass and filled it with some water; Your little adventure left you dehydrated. Then, you rummaged through the cabinets, until you found a jar of cookies. You placed a few in a bowl.

“Would you like some tea with them?” Tom asked. He’s been watching you the entire time. “It would help you fall asleep.”

Before you could answer, Tom rolled up his sleeves – he wasn’t even dressed for bed yet – and turned on the stove. As you both waited for the kettle to heat the water, you cracked open your book, leaned your front against the counter, and began reading: “You will rejoice to hear that no disaster has accompanied the commencement of an enterprise which you have regarded with such evil forebodings…”

Tom’s warm presence was felt behind you. Perhaps he too wished to entertain himself while the water heated. He was so close to you that you could feel the rise and fall of his chest. In all honesty, you did not despise his closeness. You would actually like it if you and Tom were to become close…

Soon, the tea was ready, and Tom and you sat in one of the living rooms. The book lay between you both to read. The rain beat against the wall and the fire crackled. Tom and you were so close that your breaths almost became one. You could smell the tea on his lips.

Soon, you had dozed off and no nightmares haunted you that night.

You never did find out why Tom was roaming around the halls of Riddle Manor so late at night…

You awoke in bed the next day with no memory of how you had gotten there. Your book laid upon the nightstand, with a dark feather stuck between the pages you and Tom had last left off on.

“I would like to show you something,” Tom’s voice broke you out of your trance. You had spent the entire day reading Frankenstein, and finished it just moments before, and now you could not keep your mind off of it.

“Hm?” You blinked. “Show me what?”

“The gardens in the backyard. They’re beautiful when the night falls.” Tom looked at you, expecting your acceptance.

You gave it to him. “I would like that.”

“It’s a nice reading spot as well. You could bring your book there to read.”

A smile graced your lips. “So, we could read? Oh, but I’ve already finished the book, Tom! But I suppose I could grab a new novel from the library.”

A small smile made its way to Tom’s face, almost like you were doing everything he had ever wanted from a person. He spooned a bit of soup and brought it to his lips.

Dinner passed, and you made your way to the library. Your eyes the books on the shelves until a short novel grasped your attention. It was named “Carmilla.” It was a short book; A piece of writing one could begin and finish reading in a night.

You then went up to your room and shrugged on your coat. Though it was summer, the nights recently were cold. While waiting for Tom to collect you, you wrote a letter to your parents, informing them of how your stay at Riddle Manor has been so far.

Just as you finished writing, there was a knock at your door. You placed your feathered pen into the pot of ink and answered the door.

There, Tom stood. “Are you reading to come with me?”

“One moment.” You went back to your desk, grabbed your book and shoved it into your coat pocket. You made your way back to Tom. “Now? Yes, I am.”

You and Tom made your way to the backdoor. The pair of you slipped outside, revealing yourselves for the moon and stars to gaze upon. Unfortunately, their light would not be enough to aid in reading the words of Carmilla.

“We need a light.”

Tom grabbed a strange stick from out of his pocket, and muttered a word you had never before heard under his breath: “Lumos.” The strange stick produced a light.

A small gasp passed through your lips at the trick, and you couldn’t help but clap your hands together. “Wow. I’ve never seen anything like that before. It’s almost like magic.”

A peculiar expression masked Tom’s usual face. A strange feeling spread through your stomach, but you decided to ignore it. It must have been the night's cold that was making you feel strange.

“Come. Follow me.” With that, Tom turned around, and walked towards the labyrinth of bushes. Tom clearly seemed to know which way he was going, and so your anxiousness faded away, until you could not even remember that you had felt such a thing in Tom’s presence.

You must have reached what you assumed to be the centre of the Maze. There, a beautiful fountain was placed in the middle. You made your way over to it, staring down at the water.

Tom’s reflection in the water showed that he stood right next to you. Strangely enough, his reflection had crimson coloured eyes… You quickly glanced at Tom’s face, but no, his eyes were as dark as ever. Perhaps, you were mistaken. Maybe, your eyes hadn’t adjusted to the dark properly… Yes, it must have been because of the dark.

You sat down at the edge of the fountain, and Tom joined you. You both listened to the sound of the water for a little while. You could hear the hoot of an owl, and the croaks of frogs, hidden in the bushes. The sound of crickets calmed you.

Tom’s voice broke the silence. “You’re a very beautiful woman.”

Your cheeks warmed at his words.

“Thank you.”

Suddenly, you felt his warm breath softly hit your cheek. Tom traced your jaw with that strange stick of his. He seemed to be contemplating something, as if his brain was warring with multiple ideas of what to do with you.

Tom leaned down and pressed his lips to yours, and you let him. You shut your eyes. His lips molded against your own, and a note of pleasure passed through you, making you press closer to him.

Tom wrapped one of his hands around your waist, pulling you closer, while the other pressed against your jaw, positioning you so that you faced him. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, but you soon very quickly parted on account of needing air.

Tom helped you out of your jacket. He grabbed your hand and kissed up your shoulder until he made it up to the area your shoulder and neck connected. There, he sucked on the flesh. A pleasure you had never in your life before felt coursed through you. A moan passed through your lips.

Once Tom was satisfied, he made his way down to your collarbone, where he left a trail of kisses. He unlaced your dress and a small gasp passed through you as you finally became aware of the night's cold touch. But Tom’s touch was warmer.

You wore no bra and so Tom gently grasped your hardened nub between two fingers and tugged on it. A gasp passed through your lips. No one but yourself had ever touched you in such a way, and it felt so different from one’s own hands.

Tom kissed at your neck as he rubbed his fingers rubbed at your nub, causing your back to arch. Tom was all too aware of how your legs spread as pleasure coursed through you.

Tom dropped onto his knees on the grass and pushed up your skirt. Oh… You had read about such things in the romance books you had hidden under your bed at your past home.

Tom tugged your underwear off and slipped it into his pants pocket so it would not get dirty.

Legs spread for him, Tom settled his head between our thighs. His tongue experimentally poked at your genitals, and quickly found your clit. Tom ravished you like a man starved. One of your hands gripped his shoulder while the other held onto the edge of the fountain as he gifted you with a pleasure that was all too familiar yet foreign at the same time.

Just as you were nearing your end, Tom stole away your satisfaction. He pulled his head away from your vagina, and littered your thighs with kisses, so as to tell you: ‘Good. Now, keep being good for me.’

Tom stood, and helped you up. Your legs shook with what could have been, as Tom pressed you against one of the labyrinth walls.

“Tom… Oh, Tom…” You called out for him, your body’s need for him taking over all your other senses.

Tom pressed a kiss to your lips, silencing you in what you found to be the most kindest of ways.

Finally, Tom pressed his sex against yours. Your head fell back, your mouth open in a soundless gasp. Tom wrapped one of his arms around your hip, while his other hand pressed against the wall behind you.

Once he was fully sheathed in you, he paused. His lips pressed against your neck, his warm breath hit your neck, a contrast to the cold night, causing you to shiver.

The movement caused a small hiss to escape between Tom’s teeth.

“Please, move,” You begged, and so Tom did.

He pulled his cock out before pressing back into you again. You both moaned at the same time, pleasure overtaking you both.

The pair of you pushed your hips against the others, trying to maximize the amount of pleasure the other could feel. Skin slapped against skin, moans freed themselves from the throat, and sweat dripped down flesh.

As your bodies neared the end of being one, Tom brough one of his lithe hands down to rub at your clit. You tensed as you finally finished, before relaxing altogether. Tom was right behind you nearing the end of his pleasure, and once he finally did, he embraced you warmly.

The only reason you hadn’t fallen yet was because of Tom’s hold on you. Tom shyly nosed at your neck. For a moment, you were surrounded only by Tom. His body and scent consumed you whole, and you never wanted it to be any different.

a/n: Please leave a comment if you enjoyed, as they are motivating! :) divider creds: @saradika

Tom Riddle Masterlist

[webbluvrsugar]

WORSHIP ME.

TOM RIDDLE - KINKTOBER 24 — OCT.25TH — M.LIST.

cw: cheating, bondage, dumbification

“Listen to me.”

His voice rings in a room in a calculated, tone, you stop in your tracks of leaving his dorm, somewhere you shouldn’t be, especially because you have a boyfriend just down the hall on the last Slytherin dorm.

“Why should I listen to you Tom, I told you, this is over, I can’t keep doing this.” You argue back, brows slightly furrowing as you then to look at him and cross your arms.

He grabs your wrist, tugs you closer to him before he takes a step near you.

“You’ll be a fool if you walk out that door thinking you can find someone else better than me.” He mutters, leans even closer, his presence towers over your body.

That’s the thing with Tom, he always find you stupid, idiotic, as if you’re inferior to him, and he always bases his opinions on things you can’t control — like being in hufflepuff, being naive, quiet, he’s insufferable.

“I know your weaknesses, I know how to touch you.” He lets go of your wrist, the same hand moves to cup your chin, roughness in his fingers even if his thumb caresses your cheek. “So when I tell you to get on the bed, you do so immediately,” he points out. “And I don’t care if you have a stupid boyfriend or not, you’ll do it because.. deep down, you want to.”

His words are true. You wish they weren’t but they are, you always find yourself looking for what he’s providing even if you have man of your own, he just can’t give you what you want.

So maybe that’s why you get on the bed.

Maybe that’s why you let him bind your hands back with his own tie without complaining, maybe that’s why you let him mock you so much.

“Don’t be afraid, speak up.” He tugs on the tie harsher, his thrusts are fluid, they go from slow to fast, making you want to release stupid loud moans in the back of your throat.

“Oh, I get it, you’re worried he could listen.” He chuckles, his hand grips down on your waist, marking the flesh. “I don’t know what you see in him.” He scoffs.

“You could let him go, you could have me, worship me.” He laughs, bluntly laughs in your ears as he leans down to whisper.

“But I bet you like it when it’s forbidden, you’re thrilled by it.”

[agirlwhoisaphantom]

a little death - tom riddle x reader

summary: There is a new Defensive of Darrk Arts professor and something about you has captivated his attention

word count: 1635

warnings: age gap (all characters are 18+), taboo romance, teacher-student relationship, tension?, obsessive traits, Somewhat of a cliffhanger

author's note: Hello, it's been a while since I wrote anything, so bare with me. This has been a one shot that has been lingering in my brain and I'm excited for it to finally be out. Can we talk about how beautiful Tom Hughes is???? Italian Translation: Falena - Moth

Pansy caught up to you as you walked down the hallway, holding your books close to your chest. “Have you seen the new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor?” There was an eager tone in her voice, as if she was excited to share the news with you.

Looking over at her, you weren’t too excited, nor did you care about the professor, it was just another class to have to pass. You shook your head as you rolled your eyes. “I have not, nor do I care if there is a new professor.”

She smirked as she looked over at you, playfully bumping into you, which made you hold your books tighter. “You’ll change your mind once you see him.”

Walking into the classroom, you look around, trying to find the professor, but he is nowhere to be seen. Great impression for your first day, huh? You make your way to your seat, place your books on the desk, and take a seat, bringing your backpack onto your lap. You take out a notebook and a pen and set them down on the desk before putting your books away in your bag.

“Hello, class. My name is Professor Riddle, and I will be your new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.” He said in a deep, honeyed tone as he walked towards the front of the class.

You place your attention towards him, noticing all of his features. His black hair fell in short curls, his face was beautifully structured as if it were a statue, and his strong features fell into perfect places. His eyes were ever so calculating in a marine blue as they looked around the room.

His gaze ends up on you, with curiosity evident as he crosses his arms and tilts his head. Tom looked at you as if he was trying to figure you out, and somehow, something about you piqued his interest.

Though he quickly started teaching the class, he continued to steal glances at you throughout the entire hour, his gaze often lingering on you.

You weren’t stressed about your potion exam the next day, but you still wanted to be prepared if something unexpected happened.

As you review your notes on the latest potions being tested, your thoughts drift away. Suddenly, you find yourself daydreaming about Tom. You knew having these thoughts about him was wrong, but you couldn't help but notice how beautiful he was. His deep blue eyes and chiseled jawline left you breathless.

Trying to push these thoughts away, your mind kept reverting to how he said your name. It sounded like he was reading from a poetry book, with a hint of admiration and warmth in his voice.

Standing up from your desk, you feel the need to take a break and clear your mind. You make your way to the door of your dorm and start to head outside. The cool breeze hits your face, and you take a deep breath.

Walking towards the courtyard, you noticed someone sitting on one of the benches reading a book. You were intrigued by how they delicately put down the book as they pulled a cigarette box out of their pockets and put it in their mouth.

You couldn’t tell the features of this person, and you wondered if they were new or someone you had never seen before. As you walked towards them, his features became more apparent, and you noticed it was Tom.

Fuck

Out of all the people to approach, you are approaching the one person you have been trying to avoid having inappropriate thoughts about.

“Good evening, Miss.” he looks up at you, taking the cigarette out of his mouth and placing it between his index finger and middle finger as he notices you approaching him. “Did you need something?”

You shook your head as you held your hands together. “No, just wondering who was out here at these hours. I should get going- “

“I noticed you were struggling in today's class. I can tutor you so you can understand the material better,” he interrupted. He stood up and immediately towered over you. Looking up at him, you hadn’t noticed his height until he stood so close to you.

Him telling you that you were struggling made you upset. Why was he noticing that? Why didn’t he tell me he noticed that during class? All these thoughts were going through your mind as you furrowed your brows and gave him a crooked smile. “I wasn’t struggling,” you scoffed. "Don’t make assumptions about me if you don’t know me. Have a good evening,” you snapped at him as you began to walk away, crossing your arms together.

He started to follow you as he forcefully grabbed your arm, pulling you back and turning you to face him. “Don’t ever speak to me like that ever again.” That soft, honeyed tone disappeared as his voice turned harsh. His eyes narrowed as he tried to intimidate you, but you looked at him with a poker face.

You moved your arm away from his grasp. “What will you do? Fail me?”

“Precisely that,” he says, placing his hands in his coat pockets. A sinister smirk appears on his face.

Your eyes burned with frustration and anger as you stared at him silently. This wasn't how you envisioned your first out-of-class interaction with him. You had hoped for a more cordial and friendly exchange, but instead, you found yourself clenching your fists and biting your tongue.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you broke the silence and asked, "May I go now?" Your voice was cold and clipped, betraying the anger and disappointment that you felt.

He stepped closer to you, closing the gap between the two of you as he placed his middle finger underneath your chin with his index finger and thumb, tilting your head up, making you look at him as he smirked “You look so delicious when you are angry, Falena.”

“Fuck off, Riddle,” he harshly lets go of your face as he chuckles.

He starts to walk away from you and stops for a second. “I’ll see you around, Falena.”

----

Over the course of the following weeks, you found yourself struggling in class. It seemed like Tom had it out for you, as he was particularly harsh towards you. He gave you assignments that were much more challenging, and he even tested you on spelling that most students had never even heard of before.

There were days when you would lay in bed, feeling thoroughly discouraged and wanting to skip class altogether. But you knew that if you did that, you would be giving him the satisfaction of winning whatever little game he had placed between you.

You had to recollect yourself before knocking on his office door. Taking a deep breath, you knocked on it. Surprised, he answered quickly, “I was expecting you.” He grabbed your hand and pulled you into the office, closing the door.

“I’m not staying long.” You rapidly moved your hand away from his as you crossed your arms together. “What the fuck is your problem? What are you trying to prove with all of the shit that you’ve been doing?” You sounded agitated as you stepped back as you wanted to keep your distance between you and him.

“You are my problem,” he snapped as he closed the gap between you two. “I don’t know what it is from the moment I saw you. You are all I think about. You have invaded every single sense of mine. Whatever you are doing, make it stop.” He looked desperate, wanting answers you could not give him.

Your eyes widen as you shake your head, looking at him confused. “That doesn’t mean you get to make my life a living hell.”

“You already make mine feel that way.”

You felt confused and angry. You wanted to open that door and run back to your dorm, close the door, and never get out. Instead, you stood there breathing the same air as the person who has made it difficult to be around.

He takes a deep breath as he places his hand on your cheek. His gaze softens as his thumb grazes over your cheek. “I shouldn’t be feeling this way towards you. But I can’t help it. You are just so perfect.” That honeyed, deep voice comes back, and geez, how addicting it is listening to it.

You placed your hand on top of his as you leaned into his cold touch. Closing your eyes, you realize something that made you pull his hand away from your face.

“We shouldn’t be doing, Tom,” you whispered as you looked up at him, biting your lip. You take a couple of steps back as you place your hand on the doorknob. You wanted him to stop you from leaving, so why was he standing there staring at you as if he was starved from a touch that he has been craving.

He reaches out for you but stops as he flexes his hand on the side of his leg. “Whether you like it or not, falena, you belong to me.”

“I belong to no one. Goodnight, Tom.” You turn around as you open the door, leaving his office before he can respond.

Walking back to your dorm, you could still feel his hand on your face, as if it were tattooed on your skin.

What did I get myself into? A sigh escapes your lips as you lay down on your bed, staring at the ceiling.

[siriusblackloml]

Day 7 - Tom Riddle (Kinktober 2023)

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: 1700+

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: swearing, smacking, derogatory terms, oral sex, TOM BEING VERY, VERY TOXIC. LIKE MAD TOXIC BRUH. MDNI (18+)

Kinktober 2023 Masterlist┊Day 8

Never in a million years would you ever intentionally try to do something that would piss off your boyfriend. That is the very last thing you would want to do. Therefore, it should be understood right off the bat that you never, ever meant to upset Tom today. Simply put, you made a small mistake.

Sure, a part of you knew that you were breaking the rules, but it was only meant to be brief. The contract that Tom had you followed in order to keep a clean, pristine relationship between the two of you included many…rules. These rules varied among different topics and areas of intimacy. However, one of the biggest rules that Tom insisted that you followed at all times was that you could never be seen with boys by yourself. It didn’t matter if they were your friend for a few days or even years; he was your boyfriend, therefore he was much more important.

Tom knew that he couldn’t completely separate you from boys at this school, there were literally everywhere you went. However, he figured it looked better if you were only around boys other than himself if you were in a large group with other girls. He has always been such a firm believer that if you were to be seen hanging around boys by yourself that it looks bad on your relationship. It would appear to the remaining students of Hogwarts that you had a lingering eye. Or, in his own words, it would make you look like a whore.

You didn’t want that, of course. But this simple little mistake you made today was never meant to blow up into something so big. You were innocently studying at the library, or at least had been for some time before you realized you were growing hungry. As you were just about to exit the library, a classmate stopped you in the middle of your walk. A boy, whose name you weren’t quite sure you could place, asked you, “Hey, Y/N! Sorry, I don’t mean to bother you, but do you remember how many scrolls long this paper has to be? I can’t remember for the life of me.”

In an instant you stop in your tracks at the question. Turning your head towards the voice, you share a soft smile and respond in a cheerful voice, “Yeah! It’s supposed to be three scrolls long. Good luck with that.”

The boy says, “Thanks, you too! I really can’t stand these papers. They’re such a pain in the ass sometimes.”

This should have been your cue to leave. Then again, you’d been at the library for what felt like hours now. You deserved a quick interaction, and how likely would it be that Tom would be coming in here anytime soon anyway? You take a step towards your classmate and chime in agreement, “Yeah, I totally agree. I have so much trouble trying to get to three scrolls, and I know it’s going to be even worse later in the year when we start getting assigned five scrolls minimum.”

“I’m sure you’ll be fine though. You always do so well on assignments.” He tells you.

In a matter of seconds, your cheeks are tinted pink from the compliment. You appreciate the boost of confidence. Maybe it was dumb that you were so easily flattered by a boy that was clearly not your significant other, however you didn’t seem to care. You liked that he saw you for your talents within the classroom and made sure to tell him such. “Thanks! I really appreciate that.”

“Y/N.” A familiar voice echoes in the library.

Your heart drops instantly. It was as though the air around you was sucked out of your lungs from the sound of your boyfriend catching sight of you breaking the rule. You knew damn well you were in for a punishment later that night, there was no doubt about that. It was unfortunate that he was going to treat you like you had cheated on him when clearly you hadn’t…it was even more unfortunate that the thought of Tom’s cruel, toxic behavior made your panties wet beyond belief.

Later that night, you’re glued to the floor by your knees. Tom’s trousers were already pulled down while his girth was shoved down your throat. Eyes watery, spit pooling from your mouth, you groan around his length as he pummels himself into your wet cavern over and over again. You moan around Tom, “Hmpf! Ah, T-Tom!”

It was perverted the way Tom’s face alters so proudly to see you flail around from the strength of his thrusts. Your hands were holding onto his thighs like it was a lifesaver from the massive blows to your throat. The sensation of your warm tongue licking at his cock makes him groan. Without missing a beat, Tom continues thrusting into your mouth. “Such a dirty girl. You deserve this, Y/N. You deserve to be used after today. Need to make you feel like the whore you are.”

Your hearts rapidly racing like crazy. Despite the disgusting words that spewed from Tom’s lips, you continued to moan around him and attacked his cock with quick motions of your tongue. You were enjoying every moment of this, though. While he could be overbearing sometimes, there was nothing about this situation that was scaring you. If anything, it only turned you on even more.

Your eyes meet Tom’s as you look up at him through wet eyelashes. His grin flickers into something more sinister as he continues to watch you cry over the force of his length. “Such a whore. You can’t even stop yourself for one second, you need the attention of some boy in the library. Wonder what he would think if he saw you now. Choking on my cock like some dumb slut.”

Suddenly, Tom has pulled out his length from your mouth. He smacks the tip against your cheek a few times as a reminder that you are still beneath him, that you’ll always be beneath his power; but that was fine by you. You loved the way he treats you even if it is degrading. You knew you deserved this. Because after all, you’re a dirty whore for sitting alone with a boy that wasn’t your boyfriend.

Coughing from the burning sensation in the back of your throat, you look up at your boyfriend and tell him, “I-I’m sorry, Tom. I really didn’t mean-”

“Get on the bed, now. Hands and knees.” He commands you in a dark voice.

Not wasting another second, you strip off all clothing and get onto the bed without a second thought. The cool air of the bedroom hits your glistening cunt. In the midst of all the dirty talking and face-fucking, Tom had managed to find a way to make you soaked wet. You feel his hands trail along your bare bottom. Goosebumps run up and down your thighs. Tom seems to take note of this behavior and allows his fingers to dig deep into the plumpness of your legs. He squeezes the fat and gives it a quick jiggle, right before pulling his hand back to slap the flesh hard. You yelp out of pain, “Oh, fuck!”

“My naughty whore. You should be able to handle this, right? It’s what you deserve after today.” He says huskily, getting into position between your legs. He smacks your thighs once, twice, multiple times in a row. Your skin stings in pain, red and hot from the blows.

However, you loved every second of it. You know Tom loves it when you apologize, so you continue with your begging. “I’m sorry! I love you, Tom, I do. I only want you and your cock.”

At the mention of his girth, the boy instantly grabs the base of the member. He guides the head of his cock to spread your wet lips, barely grazing your clit. Your entire body shudders and you let out a soft moan. He tells you, “If you really do want me, you’ll have to prove it. Take me like a good girl.”

Looking back at Tom, you stare at him intently as you feel the tip of his member push past your lips and enter your wet hole. You comply immediately to his wants and push back against him so that he can enter you easier. As scary as he sounds, you know you two have a safe word that you could blurt out at any moment if you truly were terrified. Which you weren’t, and he knew this. Without prep, it burned like hell to feel Tom push himself inside you, but felt satisfying nonetheless. Your mouth is open wide as you let out a whine. He inserts himself all the way in, making you gasp loudly. “F-Fuck, Tom. F-Feels so good.”

“That’s fucking right.” He growls, hands finding their ways to your hips. He pulls out and slams inside you harshly, thrusting into your sweet pussy with enough force to make you fall forward onto the bed.

Face pressed against the mattress, you scream loudly. “Yes! YES! Fuck me, you feel so good! Such a big cock!”

You can feel your breasts rock back and forth violently from the intensity of his hips slapping against your bottom so harshly. You can feel his balls slapping against your ass as he continues to fuck you relentlessly. He hammers into your cunt with deep, long strokes and nearly laughs at how hard you squeeze him like a vice. “You’re so damn tight. Damn, I love fucking your pussy.”

You arch your back and can feel your ass ripple from the force of his thrusts. Not long after Tom pistons his cock in and out of your hole, you feel an orgasm rocket through your body and leave you a moaning mess. Juices leak out of you and onto his member, and the sight makes your boyfriend fall apart.

He pounds you into submission, groaning loudly as the knot in his stomach grows tighter and tighter. Tom spanks you with the emphasis of each word, telling you, “Take. My. Fucking. Cum.”

He pulls himself out of your leaking cunt, stroking his cock to spray his warm seed all over your thighs. You sigh blissfully at the feeling of his liquid covering your bottom. It was incredibly hot and made you smile wide. You turn your head to Tom, watching him grin at the artwork he left on your legs. You ask him, “Are we good now?”

He nods his head, wiping sweat from his brow and tells you, “Yes. You did well, honey.”

And that’s all you need to hear to be able to fall asleep happily later that night.

TAGLIST: @calmspencer, @baddiebbarbietngz, @slytherclaw1978, @serendipitous-fernweh, @pandanation24, @rachelreallyroars, @tinafuentes, @chvmpion-jack, @ethereallovr, @godknows-shetried, @waggoth, @ellieswhor3, @wildestdreamers-tv, @faefaes-world, @hahahafucku, @delusional-13s-blog

[natashatraceromanoff]

mine | tom riddle

Description: tom being tom

Pairings: tom riddle x fem reader

Warning/s: smut (18+ minors dni), tom being a whiny baby

Author’s Note: no plot, just another dream i had that i’m turning into a fic 😭

“Tom? Helloo?”

You walked into the empty kitchen of the castle, exactly where Tom had asked you to meet him. Your voice echoed throughout the room but your call remained unanswered. Shivers suddenly crept up to your spine, the feeling of uneasiness, the feeling that somebody was watching you filled your thoughts.

Almost as if a predator attacked its prey, you were surprised by from the hand that wrapped around your neck from behind. Your back was suddenly pressed up behind a tall, warm figure. Just exactly the person you were waiting for.

Tom roughly pushed you against the counter, his hand still wrapped around your neck. You couldn’t help but notice the cool metal of his rings grazing your skin, and how his palms were much softer in contrast to his tight grip on you. He buried his head in your hair, deeply inhaling your sweet scent. You mentally prepared yourself for whatever was about to go down.

“What did I tell you, hm?” he practically growled into your ear.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” you responded, almost out of breath, gathering all the strength you had to not moan at his actions.

Tom teased you. His teeth grazed against your neck, licking and sucking at your exposed skin. If it weren’t for him holding you from behind with his free hand, you would have been on the floor long gone by now. You could feel his lips move up to your ear.

“You’re mine.”

God yes you were. You still had absolutely no idea what he was talking about, why he was suddenly acting so possessive. But you didn’t care, as a matter of fact, you loved it, and all that mattered was that you knew you were his. Tom Riddle’s girl.

“Say it.” he said. You could already feel the bruises on your hips building up as he roughly, pushed you into the counter.

“I’m- I’m yours, Tommy.” you mewled.

Tom moaned at the nickname. It drove him crazy when you called him that. Tommy. He thought it was the most pathetic thing ever. But he loved it when the nickname came from your mouth.

“Can’t you see- the things you do to me?” he groaned into your ear. You moaned loudly as he pushed his hips against your ass. He was rock hard for you. You pressed yourself against him even more, wanting nothing but to feel his cock in you. His free hand moved to your stomach, trailing down to the hemline of your dress so he could bunch it up all the way up to your waist. You could feel the cool air hit your legs, your pussy practically dripping.

Before Tom could even slide your panties off you, the doors of the kitchen bursted open. He immediately separated himself from you, and quickly leaned to your side to hide your disheveled state from whoever had just entered. His head turned to the kitchen door only to see one of the house elves returning a tray of leftover muffins. The two of you awkwardly waited for the house elf to leave, Tom’s hand was gently rubbing your lower back, soothing you from your previous activities.

“So.. what was that about?” you whispered into Tom’s ear.

Tom didn’t respond. Instead, he tucked a hair behind your ear and looked at you deeply in the eyes, stepping closer to you. “Would you believe me if I told you that I’ve been wanting to do that all night?”

“No. What is it, Tom?”

He buried his head into your neck and groaned. You could have sworn he was whining. He said nothing and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him, closing the gap between the two of you. Your arms went to his neck, teeth grazing against his earlobe.

“We’ll talk about it later.” Tom said as he heard the kitchen doors close. He grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you out of the kitchen, walking a little too fast for your normal pace.

“Tom, where are we going?”

“My dorm.”

[mastermindmiko]

Mr. Head boy

Pairing: Tom riddle + reader

Word count: 805

Summary: Tom is sick

Warnings: sickness and OOC tom

Hey! If you think this didn't completely suck, feel free to check out my masterlist.

When Malfoy told me that Tom wasn't going to his classes today I wasted no time before going to my boyfriend's dorm. Tom, my tom, Mr. academic achiever and head boy missing classes, and especially this close to example season, something had to be wrong.

I walk into the room and I was greeted with the sound of Tom blowing his nose. He was covered in several blankets and he had a box of tissues next to him. Tom threw the tissue into the bin quickly. And he smiled weakly when he saw me. He said "Hello, darling."

He sounded congested and I pouted, raising a hand to my chest, I said, "Oh, honey, Are you alright?

"Yes." He said, but I smiled not believing him one bit. I replied, "But you don't look all right."

"Well, I am." he said, firmly. He folded his arms over his chest and he frowned. I take a few steps closer and he raises his hands in front of him to stop me. He warns, "Don't come any closer."

"Why not?" I ask even though I already know. He frowns again at me noticing my intentions. He grumbles, "Because I hate you, and I don't want to be near you."

"Okay." I say, unconvinced and smiling because it truly was a sight to see. Tom with a red nose curled up in blankets still acting stubborn.

"You have a fever." I say, noticing him burning up against the back of my hand. He says, "Impossible."

"I'm not sick!" He mumbles then coughs. My smile was getting too wide by then. I retort, "Was that another symptom of your sickness?"

I press a quick kiss to his forehead then turn to leave. Tom grabs my wrist to stop me and pouts, "Where are you going?"

"To tell the head girl to get someone else to do your rounds." I explain, no way was Tom going to be able to walk around the castle in the cold, tonight. He frowns, "But I'm head boy."

"I know, but you're also a sick head boy who should not get out of bed."

"I'm not sick!" Tom says, and I roll my eyes. I lean down to press a quick peck to his lips but he puts his hand on his mouth, eyes wide, shaking his head. He shouts, "You can't kiss me, I'm sick."

"I thought you were fine." I tease, feigning a pout. He glares at me, and I can't help the chuckle that escapes my mouth. I head to the door and Tom says, "Don't be long."

"I won't." I say then leave. I find Malfoy with the rest of his friends and tell him to tell the head girl about Tom being sick and to find someone who can do his rounds instead. I head back as quickly as possible and Tom beams when he sees me return. I tease, "Happy to see me?"

"Very." Tom says, and he closes the book that he had on his lap. I frown at Tom's words, he's never been one for being overtly affectionate even if no one was around. The book he had was a spell book and I roll my eyes. Only Tom would study while being this sick. I scold, "Tom, you shouldn't be studying while you're sick."

"I wasn't. I just found a useful spell." Tom grins, and I bring out a small case from under his desk where he keeps all the pills and things he needs when I get sick since I do get sick quite frequently. I ask, "What is it?"

"I'll use it on you so you can't get sick."

"Really?" I ask, I bring out a couple tea bags, and conjure up some water then heat it. I place it on his desk and point to it, as a silent way to say 'drink up'. I then bring out a couple of pills that should help this fever go away faster. Tom replies, "Well, it's only temporary, but we can keep casting it as long as you're with me."

"I think that's a great idea." I say and Tom uses the spell on me, and it makes me feel weird, tingly some how. As soon as he's done with the spell, he grabs my arm and pulls me with him to bed. I giggle at his antics. Those pills must be making him feel all sorts of things because a normal Tom would never do this.

"Thank you." He mumbles, and he pulls me under the sheets with him. He wraps his arms around me, and presses a kiss to my head. I smile against his chest and pull him closer. The pills must be making him drowsy too because in a few seconds I hear him start snoring and his breath evens out.

[rafesslxt]

slytherin boys hc realizing they were to rough after an argument and comforting you?😭🙏

thank u for requesting, have fun reading <3

✧.*𝑺𝑳𝒀𝑻𝑯𝑬𝑹𝑰𝑵 𝑩𝑶𝒀𝑺 𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑫𝑪𝑨𝑵𝑶𝑵 | 𝑨𝑭𝑻𝑬𝑹 𝑨𝑹𝑮𝑼𝑴𝑬𝑵𝑻 + 𝑵𝑺𝑭𝑾

characters: mattheo riddle, tom riddle, theodore nott, lorenzo berkshire, draco malfoy

warnings: fighting, arguing, fluff, mention of make up sex, so a bit smut

Mattheo Riddle:

let‘s be honest, he would definetly take a moment to realize he actually hurt your feelings

his pride and stubbornness would be in the way at first

but when he sees the first tears rolling down your cheeks he slowly walks towards you giving your forehead a kiss while hugging you tightly and swiping your tears away with his thumb

"I am so sorry princess, I swear you‘re right. I didn‘t mean it like that, you know that, right? I love you so much I would never want to hurt you on purpose. Can you please talk to me again, baby?"

he would pull you onto his lap and rock you slighty while whispering sweet things into your ear telling you how sorry he is and that it won‘t happen again

Mattheo would just cuddle you for the rest of the night and maybe have make up sex with you If you‘re not too mad at him

"I‘m gonna show you how sorry I am princess." he would be a MUNCH and eat you out, never stopping no matter how sensetive you got.

"Want me to stop? Come on baby, one more just one more I promise." his tounge would flick relentlessly over your clit over and over again, his green ties around your wrists making it hard to protest.

Tom Riddle:

bro would try to manipulate you at first and tell you you‘re overreacting and too sensetive but when you leave the room and don‘t try to reach out to him for a few days..

you got his head spinning

maybe he would wonder why you‘re ignoring him until he remebers your fight which he almost forgot because it was so unimportant to him

i think he would try to get closer to you so you had to talk to him

but when you still wouldn‘t and he notices the hurt in your eyes, he would wrap his arms around you from behind and whisper in your ear how sorry he is

he couldn‘t believe he really spoke these words but you meant too much to him to loose you over an stupid argument he couldn‘t even remember at first

"How difficult was that for you?" you ask when your little frown on your fave disappears and is switched with a smirk. He rolls his eyes and presses you against him, still whispering in your ear.

"Don‘t try your luck too much darling." While his fingers squeeze your sides

100% rough make up sex where he would punish you for not talking to him

"Fuck you think you can just ignore me? Act like I‘m not there?" while he pounds into you from behind, pushing your face down into the pillow.

"What was that darling? Couldn‘t hear you over all the noises you make."

Theodore Nott:

I have a splitted opinion on Theodore to be honest

on one side he would be the sweetest and comfort you right away without thinking twice about it

but on the other hand I also see him giving you a cold shoulder, also too stubborn and ignorant to realize how much he hurt you

but on either side, when he then would notice how you ignore him he would so something romantic to make it up to you

I just see him with a picnic prepared outside at the lake with your favorite snacks and a plushy for you.

"I‘m so sorry cara mia you mean the world to me, I never meant to hurt you. Please let me male it up to you."

After the picnic and you forgiving him he would pin you down, not giving a fuck who would see you If walking mear by

"Theo! Everyone could see!" you struggle against his fingers on your clit. "hmm let them see how sorry I am principessa."

he would pussy your skirt up and eat you out like Mattheo but without the whole overstimulation

when you come for the first time he wouldn‘t hesitate or waste any time to pull down his pants and fuck you next to the lake

"Fuck we should argue more often If that‘s the outcome of it. Me pounding your tight little pussy amore." You would shoot him a glare but moan his name right after, eyes rolling back

Lorenzo Berkshire:

He would be THE sweetest ever

but also he‘s someone who try‘s to stay calm during fights but then when he is really mad, he just explodes without thinking

as soon as he sees the first tear rolling down your face he would walk over to you and hug you so tight you almost couldn‘t breathe.

"God y/n I am so so so so sorry I swear it will never happen again! Shit I‘m so stupid I don‘t even deserve you baby."

when you would forgive him and already forgot about the fight you two had, he couldn‘t stop thinking about it.

he was just so sorry he had to show you somehow so the first thing that came to his mind was buying you something you wanted since forever

a fucking puppy

"Enzo! Oh my god you did nooot!" you said in a whiny tone about to cry from happiness

"No no no princess please don‘t cry I can bring him back If you don‘t – " "What? No!" you take him out of his hands and look down into it‘s cute face "thank you thank you thank you!"

after the day went by and you two got everything you need for your new baby, you wanted to thank your boyfriend

"Oh – fuck yes." he‘d groan while you ride him, bouncing up and down "Bloody hell I‘ll give you a whole damn zoo If that‘s what‘s going to happen after." he says while gripping your hips and fucking right up into your thankful pussy

Draco Malfoy:

he didn‘t know what to do at first, your cold shoulder towards him felt like a knife in his chest even tho he knew he deserved it

he said some things to you in an argument he wasn‘t proud of, too ashamed when he knew you only wanted the best for him

The only thing he knew was showering you in gifts which would work with little things but not this. You wanted him to apologize with real words.

after days of giving you gift after gift he realized for himself that it wasn‘t going to work.

"Darling? Do you have a minute?" he would ask to which you just nod slighty

He would take a deep breath before speaking " I am sorry for what I said. I truly am. And I never should have said that to you or let my frustration out on you I‘m really ashamed of what vame out of my mouth when everything you wanted was just the best mor me."

It felt like a stone fell from his heart after speaking what he had thought for days and your happy face told him it was just what you wanted to hear

"Shit y/n –" he groans when you take him deeper into your mouth, looking up at him with innocent eyes.

"Just wait what we‘ll do after that pretty boy." you chuckled before taking him back knto your mouth and sucking him for dear life.

thank u for reading I hope u liked it 🫶🏻

taglist: @justarandomcanadiantransdude @helendeath @thatonepansexual2000 @imabee-oralizard @supernaturaldawning @sofa-couch26 @little-miss-naill @kolsangel @itsarajr @jolly4holly @hisparentsgallerryy @slytherinscreamqueen @mixvchelle @littlemadamred @ummmmmmm-username @jeannie-beannie @belle-blue @izriddle @danaeneocleous @sagetakami [if you wanna be removed tell me 💞]

xoxo sarah <3

[megwritesriddles]

In the Middle of the Night (In My Dreams!) ༊*·˚

18+ MDNI !!!

Pairing: Tom Riddle x Fem! Reader / You

Summary: Kinktober 2024 Day 21 - Somnophilia. Riddle has to figure out a way to keep Reader happy and covering for his ever increasing duties outside of the castle. What initially starts as a transaction escalates when they're both more willing than he expected, leading them to explore the slightly more forbidden together.

Tags: Somnophilia (consensual), Mildly dubious consent, Fingering, Hand jobs, Oral sex (f and m receiving), Friends with benefits, Denial of feelings, SoftDom!Riddle, HeadGirl!Reader, Manipulation, Faking an illness (chronic fatigue is very real, he's just a lying POS, only briefly mentioned).

READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED!!!!

Word count: 5.1k

Read it on ao3! | Masterlist

Authors note: Okay so despite this poll (sorry), I edited this into a less dark kinktober fic and will then release a much darker (non-con elements) part two after I finally finish kinktober!! This works as a stand alone if you're not into reading that kinda stuff (which I totally understand, ily dw)!! It just felt too dark for kinktober... even tho I literally have non-con as the prompt for day 25.... idk okay!! Hope you like it anyway mwah ( ◕◡◕)っ ♡

PART 2 COMING SOON !! (but works as stand alone)

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The moment the two of you had been announced as Head Boy and Girl at the start of the year, Riddle knew he had to get on your good side. Not only for the purposes of professional engagements and living in the same quarters but also because there would be a lot he’d need from you. Last year, he had found a flaw in the enchantments around the castle, discovering that apparition in and out of the castle was in fact possible, so long as you did so from the room of requirements. He has started attending to business outside of the castle regularly, rallying supporters in closed-off magical communities, among trolls and elves. He also searches for artefacts and researches dark magic when he finds the time, visiting isolated collections owned by old eccentrics who he is able to charm easily. He’s made himself a busy life outside of Hogwarts which he’s determined to keep up in order for his plans post-graduation to go as smoothly as possible. Which is where you come in. 

He leaves for these expeditions every weekend, but obviously, he’s not actually allowed to leave the castle. He has to ask you to cover for him if anyone asks where he’s gone. He concocts a rubbish story about having chronic fatigue and having to rest all the time he can, and that he can’t possibly be disturbed while he’s resting as he’s taking special potions for sleep. It’s all a lie, playing on your empathy, which he knows you have droves of, something you are widely admired for. He tells you that he’s horribly embarrassed about it and doesn’t want anyone to think he’s incapable of being Head Boy because of it, so asks you to cover for him if anyone asks about him. You give him those big sympathetic eyes and agree, workshopping a litany of excuses with him. He almost feels bad with how seriously you’re taking this, how much you want him to feel okay, even though you’ve never liked him much before. Almost. It won’t happen a lot either way, he’s told his ‘friends’ that he will be out of reach and very sternly told them not to question, so they won’t poke around, and anyone else who needs him won’t need him often. He makes a show of being very tired in the evenings in the common room the first few weeks you live together. Soon after, he drops the charade and you don’t seem to notice the falsification happening right in front of you, continuing to cover for him every now and then when it comes up. You even comment optimistically that he seems more energetic lately, to which he smiles.

“I suppose so, yes, it must be that I can finally get the rest I need, thanks to you,” he says smoothly, proud of himself for taking this as another opportunity to keep you pliable. You seem overjoyed to be helping.

In return, he keeps you sweet. At first, he merely observes you to get an idea of what might keep him on your good side. Then, he starts showing up for you. He brings your favourite pastries from breakfast (you have a bad habit of sleeping in, which sometimes makes him wonder how you got this job, but alas), accompanied by a coffee just how you like it. Complimenting you whenever you try a new hairstyle or dress up nicely on weekends. The first time he’d done it, he’d commented on a trim you’d gotten to your hair over the weekend in Hogsmeade. You were baffled, saying no one had noticed a thing all day. He sensed that you found the fact that he was the only one to notice odd, but he couldn’t help being observant. He told you as much, and you just smiled. He makes sure to do any favours you ask of him, so you can’t throw his refusal back in his face in case you want to stop helping him, he needs something to hold over your head. It’s never much, perhaps helping you with a bit of schoolwork, listening to a speech you’ve prepared for Head duties or just jostling the logs in the fireplace of the common room when the flames die down. He’s surprised you don’t ask for more, considering that he starts asking for a lot from you. 

His schedule outside of Hogwarts gets complicated, requiring him to head out occasionally in the middle of the week. You always cover for him, insisting to professors that he’s ill in bed, even though it’s clear by now that you’ve realised he’s actually missing during these periods. Your enthusiasm over helping him out has dwindled as you get the sense you’re being played, but he treats you well enough that you seem to assume the best intentions. How naive. Having someone so respected by the professors, the head girl herself, lying for him, he knows, is the only reason he’s been getting away with it for this long. He’s ‘sick’ far too often and never seen at the hospital wing, never requesting any medicine or showing any symptoms. He wonders what you think he’s doing when he’s away, doubting you could guess the truth, but you never ask despite your increasingly suspicious looks, which he appreciates. He likes you, you’re discreet, a surprising trait for such a goody-two-shoes as you are. He spends more and more time with you in the common room in his free time, charming you and winning you over, making sure he’s there if you need a favour or a ‘friend’ to talk to. He finds you to be intelligent and likeable, you’re funny, even if he prefers a bit of a darker humour than you have. There are silences as you sit together where you stare at him while he works on whatever schoolwork he deems most important that day, he knows you’re formulating all sorts of theories, your brain turning as you try to make a guess.

“I appreciate you being discreet,” he says simply one night as you sit together, working separately on assignments. The statement is followed by a silence in which he is tempted to look over at you to see your reaction but resists the urge.

“I don’t suppose you’ll ever tell me what you’re up to?” It’s meant to be a question, but it comes out as a statement. You already know he won’t, and he knows it too. No matter how good you’ve proved to be about covering for him, if you knew the true nature of what he was up to, you’d run. Tattle before even letting him explain, which really wouldn’t help either way. He turns to you, extending an arm. 

“Come here,” he nods his head in his direction. You look confused, and he doesn’t blame you for feeling that way, he isn’t affectionate with anyone. He makes a point of never being seen as being soft, which is easy given he isn’t soft for anyone. But he knows the type you are, so sweet and kind, the type that you can be won over with a little affection. There’s no one here to see either of you anyway, he can risk it this once. You slowly scoot into his side and he wraps an arm around your shoulders. He brushes an errant strand of hair from your face and holds you to his side. “I really do appreciate it, I’m always here if you need anything from me,” he whispers. You look up at him and nod. “Good,” he hums. You spend the rest of the night pressed into his side as you do your homework, it’s odd, but he’s warm and solid, and most girls at Hogwarts would kill to be in your position, so you let it be. It becomes a fairly frequent scene, the two of you snuggled up by the fire, especially as the days grow colder and colder. His hands like to wander, brushing places they probably shouldn’t, but you never stop him or say a word, letting your own hands wander a little too. You don’t talk about it, not with him or with anyone else. You know without words that he doesn’t want it to leave the room. It’s just another secret you have to keep for him. 

He starts having the need for more frequent meetings with his little group of in-school followers, the Knights of Walpurgis, as his plans get closer and closer to their time of fruition. The Head Common Room is the perfect place to host, spacious and completely secret, except for from you. He knows he has to sweeten the deal once more to have you leave the common room for long periods in the evening. So one night, while the two of you study together snuggled up, he kisses you. You’re alarmed but immediately kiss back. He knew you would, every girl in the damn school would, but it still feels like an unexpectedly simple triumph. His hand grips your jaw, not allowing you to move away, not that you’re trying to. Your hand gently cups the side of his neck, keeping him close as his tongue carefully breaches your lips, slightly surprised by how willing you are for him. He has a multitude of things he’s considered doing to you, but for tonight, he has to stick with something focused on your pleasure. He doesn’t mind, pleasuring you is an act of domination in its own right. By the end of the night, he has you sat between his legs, your back to his chest as his fingers thrust in and out of you. You squirm and mewl in his ear, your head thrown back on his shoulder, as he holds you securely with an arm around your middle, fucking you on his fingers. He’s high off of the fact he has you completely nude apart from your socks before him, while he’s still fully dressed.

“There we go, darling,” he purrs in your ear, gently pressing his lips to your jaw. “I bet you’ve wanted this for quite a while, haven’t you?” he teases, grinding the heel of his palm against you as his fingers press in and out. You must have, given how quickly you’d let him strip you down, manoeuvre you into the position he wanted, just how soaking wet you’d been from a couple of strategic words of praise. He’d wrongly assumed you’d be a little more prudish, but he was pleasantly surprised otherwise. “I want you to do something for me,” he whispers, slowing his movements a little so you can focus on his words. You whine softly in protest and he smirks. “Tomorrow evening, could you make yourself scarce for… let’s say three hours? Starting from… six thirty?” his fingers caress your inner walls torturously lightly, almost tickling, making you squirm unhappily.

“Where would I go?” you exhale.

“Library? Walk the grounds? Astronomy tower? I don’t mind, darling, as long as you’re not here,” he kisses behind your ear softly. He expects some questions or protests, but none come, only a simple nod. He’s a little surprised how easy things are with you, although it may have a lot to do with how his fingers are currently buried deep in your cunt at present, he concedes to himself. But you’re always easy, always helpful, so willing to give him the benefit of the doubt even though you were more than smart enough to know better. “That’s a lovely girl,” he smiles against your skin. He hesitates, unsure whether to reveal the transactional nature of his kindness toward you, but he feels he must assure you somehow that it will be worthwhile. “I’ll reward you accordingly, I promise. You’ll hurry back to me at nine-thirty, won’t you? I’ll be missing you by then,” he purrs, trying to further pull the wool over your eyes with some flattery. He straightens up to look down at you, your head still resting back on his shoulder. “Won’t you?” he prompts again, kissing your forehead. You nod, giving him a pleading look and bucking your hips helplessly. You want him to keep going, feeling half-insane from his unmoving fingers filling you up.

And that he does, finger-fucking you through two mind-blowing orgasms that night, showering you with ever more ridiculous praises as the night goes on. It’s unclear whether you’re losing your mind to the pleasure and not understanding him, or if he’s just spewing every compliment he can possibly think of. Once you’re thoroughly debauched, he helps you into your bed as your legs are too shaky on their own, laying you down and kissing you goodnight with a slightly stilted tenderness. You watch him in quiet confusion as he retreats from your room, feeling satisfied and yet completely confused. 

It becomes a bit of a routine, whenever he needs you to stay away from the common room, or otherwise go out of your way for him, he pulls you into his lap in the evening and tugs down your underwear, pleasuring you expertly. Soon, it becomes harder to tell, as he begins to get you off every night, whether he’s after something or not. You don’t know if it’s just his efforts to make sure you don’t forget to think of him positively, you’re far from oblivious to the fact you’re being bribed, or if he’s just enjoying it at this point. He stretches out your encounters more and more, especially when you start returning the favour, using your hand on him while he does the same to you. You’re pleasantly surprised how aroused he gets just from fucking you on his fingers, always at least half-hard by the time you can get your hands on him. When he introduces his mouth into the equation, you’re sure he’ll be asking something big of you soon. But he doesn’t, nothing new comes up, other than you also beginning to use your mouth on him. He seems to love it, so you suppose it must have been motivation enough. He likes to take his time, to make you feel helpless and desperate, not seeming to care if it leads him to spend long periods of time kneeling before you, which was something you were certain he would have never been caught doing for anyone.

It’s a nice relationship in Riddle's opinion, he gets off and he gets what he wants from you. You make yourself scarce and Riddle is able to conduct his meetings in peace in a perfect setting. Whether you’re using mouths or hands, it’s always intensely pleasurable. He grows attached to the sight of you on your knees before him, his cock deep in your mouth as you look up at him with those wide innocent eyes. You’re amazing with your mouth, and usually willing to get on your knees whenever he’d like you to. It’s a perfect arrangement in this way. He loves to hold you down and make you scream using nothing but his tongue. Some of his friends say that eating out a woman is demeaning, but he never feels more powerful than when he has you crying and begging. He loves to make you beg, long-forgotten is the fact he’s meant to be doing this just to keep you sweet, just to manipulate you into helping him. He’s lost in it now, and no matter how selfish he gets in bed, you keep covering for him, seeming to misinterpret him as generous rather than intensely power-hungry. It works well for his purposes, so he lets you think of him as a giving lover.

He’s a little surprised that you haven’t asked for any exclusivity or any indication of whether he’s bringing in other girls at the times he asks you to keep away. He’s not, of course, but he doesn’t understand why you don’t care to ask. He tells himself that it doesn’t matter, but deep down it does bother him, every other girl he’d ever been involved with, even briefly, had asked to be his one and only. You’re a sweet girl, the type he assumed would fall in love with him the moment he first got his hands on (and in) you, but you haven’t indicated this in any way. He knows you’re not seeing any other men because he keeps an eye on you whenever he can. Even having gone so far as to cancel a meeting with a tradesman in Diagon Alley to stay back and watch you while you think he’s away. Nothing. You go about your day as normal, come back to the common room and curl up to read your book. Just before bed, you attempt to get yourself off and fail, pouting through your night routine. You can’t do it without him, he notes smugly. He wishes he could come help, but he can’t without revealing his spying. By the time he gets back legitimately, you’re fast asleep. Given all of this, he still doesn’t understand why you’re not asking him for a commitment. It’s not that he wants to commit to you, he doesn’t like the idea of being tied down, even if he currently has no interest or energy to pursue anyone but you, but the fact you haven’t asked drives him nuts. You seem happy to get off with him and go to sleep without asking a single question. He lingers in your doorway, watching your frame rise and fall under your blanket with slow breaths, wondering about you.

He’s surprised when you bring it up. How you’d felt his presence in your doorway while you’d been asleep, despite not being fully awake. He explained that he’d been wanting to help you out (his own evasive phrasing) but that you’d been visibly asleep so he’d left instead. At your expression, he asks you teasingly if you’d have liked him to do it anyway, his teasing smirk only growing when you blush and nod. And so a system was set, he tells you to sleep on the sofa in the common room if you’d like his attention during the night, as he has a habit of waking up in the middle of the night to fetch water. You agree and you proceed together like normal for the next few days, pleasuring each other in the evenings when he isn’t busy. Every night, even on nights he wasn’t actually waking up naturally, he would come into the common room to check for you. For a long time, you’re not there, and he’s a little frustrated with you. Why dangle such a tantalising idea in front of him if you never meant to go through with it? He’d been a perfect gentleman, telling you that you could say no if the idea made you uncomfortable, but at the time, you’d seemed apprehensively excited about it, yet now, nothing. His eyes stay glued on your door as he goes about getting his water each night, wishing he could go in there. He tries his best not to show his disappointment when he spends time with you in the daytime, not wanting to come off as pushy and drive you away. He needed you to like him, staying on your good side was non-negotiable and pushing you on a matter like this was generally frowned upon. About a week and a half later, he trudges from his room to top up his glass and sees a lump under a blanket on the sofa. It’s you.

He immediately slows and lightens his footsteps, not wanting to wake you as it would ruin the fun. He hadn’t had time for you the last four days, between increasing stakes when it came to schoolwork and closing in on a magical artefact outside of it, he’d been gone for everything but class and sleep. He creeps over to you, seeing your peaceful face squished against the velvet throw pillow. You must have missed him, he thinks, since you started your little mutual arrangement you’ve never gone more than two days without each other before, mostly because Riddle found himself quite insatiable. He’d always told himself he was uninterested in matters of the flesh, that he enjoyed indulging but could easily control himself, and that he was only doing what he was with you to manufacture a sense of closeness and keep you in the palm of his hand. Yet, he had to admit that he doesn’t usually go so far for the purposes of manipulation and that he never would have done this in the first place if he hadn’t found you attractive. He was unwilling to sacrifice his own happiness for his manipulation, beyond a bit of necessary flattering drivel. So when he’d allowed himself into this arrangement, even simply under a pretence, he had quickly lost control of it and become ravenous for the sensations you could offer. He watches your parted lips as you breathe softly. Gently, he rolls you onto your back, waiting to see if you wake. You don’t. He slips the plush blanket down your body and exposes you to his eyes. You’re dressed in a sweet feminine nightgown and he finds the look to be sweet on you, fitting. You were a perfect thing to corrupt. Yet, he smirks to himself, you had agreed to this, you were already corrupted, so desperate for him that you wanted him even in your sleep. Surely you did want exclusivity from him, you were just trying to appear laid back to not scare him off. You could be endearingly shy like that at times. Yes, you agreeing to this was surely evidence that you wanted more from him than you had. That you needed him.

He slowly and cautiously shifts you around until he can settle comfortably between your legs. His hands run up and down the soft skin of your thighs, keeping a close eye to see if you stir. He wonders if you’re really such a heavy sleeper, or if you’re merely pretending not to have woken for his benefit. At the moment it doesn’t matter to him, you seem asleep enough, and if you are conscious, you’re hardly objecting. He pushes up the hem of your nightdress and grins at the sight of you already bare for him, with no underwear in sight. Naughty girl, he thinks to himself as his hands skim up and down your inner thighs, leaning forward to press a soft kiss just above the little patch of hair shielding the part of you he wants most. He would love to tease you and draw it out more, but he doesn’t want you to wake before he can explore the more intimate aspects. He carefully lies down, guiding one of your supple thighs over his shoulder, spreading you open for his eager eyes. You’re already a little wet, he wonders if it’s from his teasing now, or perhaps your dreamy anticipation. He knows he can get you wetter easily. He uses two fingers to gently spread you open even more, revealing the sensitive pearl nestled within your folds. He blows lightly on it, making you twitch a little. He grins.

Still trying to let you stay asleep for now, he leans in and very gently touches his tongue to your bundle of nerves. You sigh softly in your sleep but don’t seem to wake. Your dreams are turning sticky-sweet, you begin to feel warm and floaty, but you’re not conscious enough to register this change properly. You squirm slightly and moan as his tongue gently swirls around your clit, not touching to keep you just bubbling below waking. Your breath is hitching softly, and little noises are leaving your throat. He can tell you’ll wake soon unless he stops, but he figures he doesn’t mind. He wants to see your face when you wake up to his head between your legs. Will you be shocked to start with? Or immediately eager and accepting? He was oddly thrilled to discover this. Your hands slide away from where they rested on your stomach, trying to grab something as he starts to lap at you just a little faster, your breath hitching a little more, exhaling shakily. He’s surprised you’re still asleep, he’s tempted to use legilimency on you to discover what you’re dreaming of. Your face is flushed and your lips parted blissfully, so he figures it’s something nice. His tongue slides up and down between your slick folds, the familiar taste of you spreading across his tongue as you become more and more aroused. He gently kneads the skin of your hip, pulling you a little closer to his mouth, trying to coax you awake without startling you too much. Your eyelids flutter, but you remain asleep, whimpering quietly. He focuses the tip of his tongue on your clit, making the stimulation just a little more intense, watching for your reaction intently. Your fingers tangle into the crumpled blanket by your side, curling into the plush material, and he knows you're on the very verge of wakefulness. He smirks, gently suckling your clit into his mouth. 

This rips a loud moan from your chest, which in turn makes your eyes snap open. You try to sit up, blinking blearily, looking a little bewildered, trying to make out shapes in the dim moonlight, to understand why you feel lost in a haze of pleasure. Riddle's hand moves, splaying out on your stomach, pushing you back down and holding you there. Your eyes snap to him, he grins up at you from between your legs, looking unbelievably smug, his eyes glinting in the light of the moon. The sight of him between your legs, the knowledge of what he’d been doing while you’d been sleeping, coaxes another moan from your lips. He eases up a little now you’re awake, going back to gentle teasing licks against your bundle of nerves. Your heart pounds and you breathe rapidly, partially reeling from the sudden awakening, but mostly just feeling amazing. You lie back against the sofa, trying your best to get your bearings while he continues smothering you with unrelenting bliss. He pulls back for a moment, though he instantly replaces his mouth with his fingers, not giving you a moment to think. 

“Naughty girl, sleeping without underwear to give me access,” he purrs, his voice rumbling in a self-satisfied manner. You giggle sleepily. You had done that, hadn’t you? He smiles up at you. “Was it a nice awakening, my darling?” he murmurs smoothly, leaning back in to continue his dedicated licks. You whimper softly, your hips twitching before he holds you solidly in place, tutting against your sensitive skin.

“The best awakening, so unbelievably arousing,” you whisper, your voice hoarse, watching him work his magic between your legs. He hums against you. He knows this of course, this was quite possibly the wettest he’d ever had you, only increasing since you’d woken up and become conscious of what he was doing. Your hands slide into his short curls as he works, usually, he might complain about this, but you’re still a little sleepy, and he decides to let it go. You sigh pleasurably, your hooded eyes locked on him. His eyes look up to meet yours as he begins to suckle on your clit once more. Intense pleasure floods over you, your head lolling back, your hands tightening slightly in his hair. You let out a string of desperate moans, moans he’s become intimately familiar with over the past few weeks. You’re close and he intends to get you there, to show you how much you need him, to remind you that you can no longer achieve this alone, if you ever could. He doubles down on his actions, gripping your hip a little tighter to keep you firmly in place. “Oh… Tom!” you plead, trying to grind your centre up into his face. You could get so desperate sometimes, Riddle tuts to himself. “Please,” you beg, anticipating his desire to tease you and hoping to get ahead of it. You need this, badly, he hasn’t been around to help you for days, and the scenario was driving you mad with lust. He’s uncharacteristically gracious, not relenting, continuing to lavish you with exquisite sensation, building you up and up. You look down again, and as his eyes meet yours, the coil in your belly snaps. Your whole body tenses, your back arching off of the sofa, a guttural cry escaping you. He holds your hips in place, continuing his assault as you ride out the climax. Tears gather in your eyes and you feel a little humiliated by how intensely this is affecting you. 

After several desperate sobs, you finally collapse back, your hands slipping from his hair. You take several deep breaths as he withdraws from between your legs, sitting up to look down at you. He grabs a tissue from the coffee table, wiping his mouth and discarding it haphazardly. You smile tiredly, and you feel exhausted by your sudden wake-up, but completely heavenly at the same time. You stare at each other for a moment. It’s an oddly domestic moment. You’ve never seen him in his pyjamas before, a matching shirt and trousers, made of silk or some other such soft material, the type that’s popular with the rich Slytherin boys. His hair is a little curly naturally, this you did know from him getting back to the common room on rainy days, but is now slightly messed up from your hands in it. You cover yourself back up, tugging the hem of your nightdress back down as he watches. He looks almost sweet, he has been sweet to you, in his own way. He reaches over and touches your flushed cheek, rubbing it softly with his thumb, unsure whether he’s trying to prove his effect on you, or just wishing to touch you. 

“I’ll have to think of something to ask of you in exchange for doing that,” he jokes a little unnaturally. You laugh honestly. 

“You didn’t already have something?” you tease, moving to sit up. He smiles, enjoying the way you see through him, just enough to prove you’re not stupid, but not enough to compromise any plans. Perhaps that’s why you haven’t asked for exclusivity with him, you’re not stupid like the others, whether you want it or not being irrelevant to the facts. The facts that were feeling more like theories lately.

“No, believe it or not,” he chuckles, pushing your hair behind your shoulder. “But it’ll be easy enough to think of something,” he pulls you onto his lap and kisses you goodnight. “You always find a way of being useful,”

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xoxoxo

[cardansriddle]

"You know how to ball, I know Aristotle" - (tom riddle x fem!reader)

Summary: Tom finds himself harbouring a small crush on the Slytherin Chaser.

Warnings: None, just pure fluff. As always, not proofread, so apologies for any mistakes.

A/N: First post in months, hi, hello, I'm alive!!! This one is heavily inspired by the lyrics "you know how to ball, I know Aristotle" from so high school by taylor swift (obviously). And we all know Tom is the nerd in any scenario.

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The players soared through the azure sky, their movements orchestrated with precision and grace as the game began. Quidditch had never held any allure for Tom; he deemed it brutish and an unworthy diversion from his personal pursuits. After all, he would rather spend his hours on research to further his magical skills, become the most powerful wizard of all time and accomplish his one ultimate life ambitions.

Yet he had been dragged to the game by his persistent, relentless Knights. Half of them had already taken to the field, while the remainder bellowed raucous cheers from the stands. That is, if one could call creative chants being hurled at the Gryffindor team cheering.

With a disdainful curl of his lip, Tom reached for the book nestled at his side, fully intending to pass the time by reading. Yet, before he could even read a word, a chorus of gasps pierced the air, followed by a rush of wind that tousled his dark locks. Startled, he glanced skyward, just in time to witness one of the Chasers of his house team swooping gracefully to intercept the Quaffle hurtling towards an unsuspecting bystander behind him.

She shot a cheeky smirk at whoever she had just saved before gliding away. Something within Tom stirred—an unexpected surge of fascination seized hold of his senses and he found himself tracking her every movement with a newfound intensity. For a moment his scholarly mind analysed her movements with the same meticulous scrutiny he applied to his studies. She moved with a fluidity that seemed to defy the laws of gravity, her every manoeuvre executed with a finesse that demanded attention.

As her lithe form weaved through the chaos of the game, Tom couldn't help but lean forward to pay attention to the game. He was transfixed, his gaze glued on her as she scored a goal after goal.

"See! I told you Quidditch was fun!" Orion Black exclaimed from next to him, hand moving to pat Tom on his back before realising who he was speaking to and forgoing the action all together.

Tom did not bother acknowledging the boy.

The game came to an end as the Slytherin Seeker deftly caught the snitch after a particularly intense dive, and soon enough the entire crowd of students were rushing to congratulate the victorious team. Just like that, Tom was snapped out of his daze. He gathered his belongings and decided to leave.

༻♛༺

The party in honour of the Slytherin team was in in full swing by the time Tom set foot in the common room. He cursed under his breath as he navigated the crowded space, desperate to retreat to his dormitory and escape the chaos that engulfed the room.

Pushing his way through the throng, he passed by the large emerald couch when his eyes caught sight of her. She sat with her friends in a small circle, an amused smirk playing on her lips. The boisterous energy of the celebration seemed to ripple around her. Tom's ears perked up as someone called her name, attempting to draw her attention. He quickly noted the name, etching it into his mind with the same precision he used for memorizing spells.

"It's your turn!"

She waved a hand in dismissal. "I'm good."

"Oh come on! It is not fair for you to give out the most ridiculous dares then run away when it's your turn. Come on, don't be a coward!" Her friend goaded.

"Perhaps if I were a Gryffindor I would be insulted." she replied with a shrug. Despite her nonchalance, her friends’ uproarious protest began to wear down her resolve. Tom could see the determination flicker in her eyes before she finally relented. "Okay, fine! I will play this once!"

"Truth or dare?"

Tom resisted the urge to scoff at the ridiculously childish game they were partaking in. He should have left right then, but he could not deny that something tugged at his curiosity despite his best efforts to remain aloof.

"Dare."

"What happened to you were not a Gryffindor?"

"I'm just trying to determine if I would be a lousy one or not."

Her friend’s eyes narrowed in thought, clearly plotting the perfect dare. Tom was about to move away when her friend's eyes landed on him, and he saw them sparkle in mischief. He was quick to turn away, pretending he could not hear them.

Just as the girl was announce the dare, a couple crashed into him in their impatience to get through, fingers weaved together, jostling Tom and forcing him to step aside. He grimaced as they hurried past, clearly headed for the dorm rooms. When he turned his attention back to the group, he noticed with a start that the girl had disappeared.

Trying ignore the bizarre pit of disappointment in his stomach, he turned on his heel to head up to his room for the night. He had already lingered more than enough. Just as he turned, another figure crashed straight into his chest. With a string of colourful curses under his breath, he automatically grabbed to steady the person. Tom had lost all his patience, and he was about to snap with something mean when his gaze landed on the Slytherin Chaser.

Whatever sharp words he’d been preparing evaporated in an instant. His focus shifted entirely to the pair of wide, doe-like eyes staring up at him innocently. Too innocently. His instincts told him it spelled trouble.

"Oh, Riddle! I'm sorry, I tripped over my own feet." She said with a sheepish smile, a feigned apology dancing on her lips. Tom narrowed his eyes. She was an athlete, her entire existence on the pitch was defined by her precision and grace. He knew well enough she wasn’t the type to stumble over her own feet.

He opened his mouth to retort but she beat him to it. "Did you watch the game today?"

"Yes," he responded curtly, his gaze never leaving hers, trying to decipher her game.

"Really? I thought you never attended the games. Well, what did you think of it?"

The corner of Tom's lip curled as he replied. "First and last time. Your Quaffle almost disfigured my face."

She raised a brow. "No, the ball almost disfigured Adrian. Your charming smile was in no danger, I assure you."

"My charming smile, yeah?"

A delicate blush crept up her cheeks, turning them a pretty shade of pink under his teasing gaze that she was trying—and failing—to conceal. Tom felt a wave of smug satisfaction at the reaction he had drawn from her. Slowly, he twirled his wand between his long fingers, savoring the moment, letting the tension simmer in the air between them. His movements were slow, deliberate, before he lifted her chin ever so slightly with the tip of the wand, the cool wood brushing against her skin.

"Well, in any case, congratulations on your victory," he murmured, his voice low as he held her gaze firmly in his. "Disfigured smile or not." Then, with the faintest smirk tugging at his lips, Tom broke away to walk past her, heading toward the dormitory.

He was halfway across the common room when a sudden shout rang out amidst the loud crowd.

"Tom!" Her voice rang out, and just as he was about to glance over his shoulder, a hand reached out and grabbed his wrist, turning him around with unexpected force. His brows knit in confusion as he looked down at her, words forming in his mind but never reaching his lips. Before he could react, her arms were around his neck, pulling him down in one swift motion. Her lips crashed against his, bold and unapologetic, her kiss catching him entirely off guard.

Tom stood frozen, momentarily stunned, every thought, every calculated plan vanishing in the instant their lips met. For a man who prided himself on control, it was the first time in a long while that he felt completely unmoored. The kiss, with its suddenness and intensity, left him reeling in ways he hadn't deemed possible.

He tuned out the instant cheers and whistles breaking out in a wave of noise at the display, his thoughts consumed only by the soft lips moving over his own.

But the moment was over a moment far too soon. her breath uneven, eyes gleaming with nerves. Tom’s heart, which had betrayed him for just a moment, slowly began to settle back into its steady rhythm.

She bit her lip, a sly smile forming as she met his gaze again. "Sorry… I was dared to do that," she said, almost apologetically.

Tom’s expression didn’t falter, but a flicker of irritation crossed his mind. The kiss, the boldness—it had not been her choice. “Of course,” he replied coolly, his voice measured as he ran a hand through his hair. "A dare.”

She opened her mouth to say something, but before she could, Tom leaned in just enough to let his words hang in the air between them, lips brushing against her cheek, his voice low and filled with a subtle challenge. “Then… I dare you,” he began, his gaze locked on hers with a teasing intensity, “to do it again.”

He smirked as her eyes widened, clearly caught off guard by his response. Her gaze flickered to his lips for just a second before she pulled back, her smirk widening. "Careful what you wish for, Tom. You might regret it.”

"Only if it results in your Quaffle flying at my face again."

"If you refrain from reading your book at my game, I promise to keep it away from your vicinity next time." She rolled her eyes, but before either of them could speak again, she stood on her tiptoes to kiss him again, this time softer, slower, the lingering laughter fading into something sweeter.

[cruel-seduction]

I have a question. Actually I have a scenario in my head where I am gonna write Arranged marriage trope series. Actually this was the fake scenario I was thinking for whole last month and even I thought I will write book about this but then I realize that writing book is a lot of effort while I am already writing a book so I should finish that book first.

So, There is Arrange marriage trope. Where reader is going to be sassy and very straightforward and guy is going to be morally grey. Touch her and die type. And with some twists and turns. So for which character should I write this?? There is going to be so much smut ig but there will be very much plot instead of smut so minors can read it too while skipping smut chapters.

Edit - I deleted the "Ask a Question" Poll cause by mistake I made the poll for a week long. But I got my answers. It was Mattheo. First Mattheo and Rafe were on tie so I let it be for one more day now today finally we had a winner!!!!!! (Although there is no winner everyone is amazing). Soon You will find me with mattheo x reader series.

[tomriddleslovergirl]

Spells from the Heart

Pairing: Tom Riddle x Fem!Muggle!Reader

Includes: mentions of war, memory loss, stalking, reader is naive, goes from third person to second, story is in Tom's p.o.v.

Word count: 1.2k

Summary: You come across something you shouldn't have, and Tom decides to keep you.

Passing through the war-wrecked streets of London, Tom made his way to his usual hiding spot where he could perform magic without being discovered.

It amused him to call it a hiding spot, because it was in fact a field, though — in all fairness — it was in the middle of the woods.

As Tom finally reached his destination, the smell of Earth surrounded him. He shut his eyes — a rare moment of vulnerability — and took in a deep breath, taking in the wet scent of soil and flowers with him.

He dropped his worn down satchel and discarded his coat on the ground. He sat atop his dark coat and grabbed an old book out of his bag. It was a book of spells that he was able to convince the Hogwarts librarian to let him borrow over summer break.

He scanned through the contents of the book, trying to decide on the first spell he would like to practice.

As a small bunny came into sight, Tom selected Vera Verto.

He stood up on his two feet and grasped his wand. He pointed it at the unsuspecting creature and whispered, “Vare-ah vore-toe,” pronouncing it as was written in the book.

Before his own two eyes, the bunny went from a living being to a goblet of water. Pride bubbled in Tom’s chest.

As he was about to mutter a spell to reverse it, a gasp from behind stopped him.

Clutching his wand, Tom turned around to find a girl around his age standing in shock from what she’d just witnessed. Like she’d come to her senses, she scrambled into a run.

Fortunately for Tom — but unfortunate for her — he was able to point his wand at her and yelled, “Kahr-pay ruh-track-tum.”

The girl was pulled towards Tom's chest, and with a grunt he wrapped an arm around her waist. She clawed at his arm like a feral animal and he had the urge to ask her to stop it.

With his free hand, Tom pointed his wand at the stranger again. “Obliviate,” passed through his lips and instantly her body went limp. He dropped her onto the damp grass.

Tom wasn’t sure when her consciousness would resurface, so he made quick work in putting his coat and satchel back on and stuffing his wand back in his pocket.

Before leaving, Tom looked down at the girl. Hair covered her face and Tom reached down to move it away. He noted that she was quite pretty. 

After being caught using magic, Tom hadn’t visited the fields in a few days. But, his fingers twitched to grab onto his wand. To point it at something and mutter a spell. The children at Wool’s Orphanage got on Tom’s, but of course he couldn’t punish them for it like when he was a child.

Done with being reminded of his predicament, Tom finally decided to go on a walk. It led him to the edge of the woods anyways.

He couldn’t help but think of you as he walked. He hadn’t used a spell on a muggle for so long, and doing so left behind a certain thrill.

Tom stopped walking and squinted. A little ways away from him, he caught sight of a house. It was hidden behind several large trees, casting a darkness upon it and hiding it from view.

As Tom got nearer to one of the windows, he saw a glimpse of someone. You.

He ducked under the window, and thought of how much of a fool he must have looked. He certainly felt like one.

The walls were rather thin, Tom learned as he listened to her hum. He recognized the tune. “I Don’t Want to Set the World on Fire.” At times the song would play on the small radio during dinner time.

A few moments passed. In those few moments, Tom realized that you were home alone. You looked to be Tom’s age, and if he was right, that meant your parents weren’t home.

Tom walked up the steps to your front door and knocked. The humming stopped and Tom listened to the sound of hurried footsteps.

The door creaked open. You looked up at Tom with wide eyes. He supposed you were surprised. It was unlikely that many people visited your family much.

“Excuse me, Miss. If it’s no bother, I was hoping you could help me? I’ve seemed to have gotten lost.”

Your face relaxed as you took in Tom’s words. “Of course. Do you just need directions, or do you want to make a phone call to your parents? If you have a telephone, of course.”

Tom pretended to think for a moment. The latter would easily let him into your house. “Would you mind if I phoned my parents? They must be worried.” The lie slid off of Tom’s tongue like honey.

With a nod, you let Tom into the house.

Silly girl.

Tom followed you into a small living room. You pointed to the rotary dial resting atop the wooden table in front of the couch.

“I’ll wait in another room.” With that, you walked up the steps to what Tom assumed to be your bedroom. “I’ll be back in just a moment,” your distant voice called out.

Tom had no use for the telephone. Instead, he looked at what stood tall on the mantelpiece. It was the goblet he had created several days ago.

You must have been so confused when you awoke after being obliviated.

Tom picked up the cup and brought it closer to his face to inspect it. It was blue with carvings of seahorses and mermaids covering the upper half of it.

Tom placed the cup back to its rightful place. He’ll be kind and let you keep it.

Tom slowly walked up the steps, careful not to make the steps creak.

Once he reached the top, he scanned the three doors. One was yours, one your parents, and one the bathroom, he assumed.

Tom opened the first door. It was obviously not your parents, as the only way the bed could fit two people was if they crammed together. The sheets were pink, and books littered the vanity.

He picked one up. Pride and Prejudice. The copy looked like it had been well loved. He tucked it into his coat pocket.

He shut the door and proceeded to open the next one directly across from your room. Disappointingly, there was no sight of you in the small bathroom.

Tom shut the door again and walked towards the room at the end of the hall. He opened it up and saw you sitting on a chair, rummaging through a desk drawer.

You looked up in surprise as Tom entered, halting your movements.

Tom clasped his hands behind his back. “I just got off the phone with my father.”

You nod. “Um.. I’m just looking for my parents' map. I know they have one, and I thought I could give you directions to help you get back home.”

How sweet.

He walked over to where you sat, and took note of how your breathing quickened as he got nearer.

You would make a nice summer plaything. And the best part was you wouldn’t even remember.

a/n: that poor bunny stuck as a cup forever😭 Also, I loved going through the Harry Potter Spellbook to write this. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed! divider creds: @saradika

[justanoasisimagines]

Blurb (1)

Hey my lovelies, back with day 9 of my heroes versus villians event! I hope everyone is doing okay. Check back later for today's hero! Credit to cafekitsune for the banner and the divider!

Tom admired you from afar contemplating why you walked the earth with such an innocent gaze. You always saw the good in people and made the best out of every situation. You were a ray of sunshine on a cloudy day. You were his sunshine. You smiled as you helped some first-years with their homework. You opened up the homework session to anyone who needed help. His bright girl. Always putting others first. Even when he knew you were exhausted from your studies. Perhaps that's why Tom carried his books in his hand as he made his way towards the table in the library. With a shake of your head, you continued to help the students who'd gathered around. The young girl nodded in understanding. "I'll be right back." Slowly, you looked over the rest of the first years. Tom observed you will anticipation. Moments later you were standing beside him. "What can I help you with?" You asked, Tom smirked as he grabbed your hand making a point to interlace your fingers one by one. "Potions homework. It's terribly difficult. I fear I may fail." Both of you knew Tom was lying, Potions was in his top five subjects. "I guess I can help you…but it's going to cost you." Tom smirked, raising an eyebrow at you pulling you onto his lap. "A kiss." Tom was usually hesitant for public displays of affection, however, he found himself making an exception. He'd use the opportunity to remind everyone you belong to him.