#christian coulson/reader

[writingsbychlo]

SPIDER | tom riddle

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

word count; 1625

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You know I go for walks at night.”

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

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

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

“Answer me.”

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

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

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

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

Now, that was a surprise. “You will?”

“Yes.”

“Why?” 

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

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

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

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

“Which side?”

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

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

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

“Let me check for any more.”

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

“No more.”

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

“You already thanked me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’d like that.”

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

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

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

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

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

Not yet. 

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

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

[artytaeh]

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’

can i disagree with some of this fandom's perception of tom riddle? surely he won't be a sweetheart like lorenzo, but...

┊ i also don't think that he'd be so intentionally rude, so cold towards his significant other. i honestly think that if tom ever becomes infatuated with someone, he would take pride into getting this someone to belong to him. willingly! 🌷

౨ৎ i guess i'll never know the reason why you ♡ ͡

love me like you do; that's the wonder of you . . .

... tom riddle is a smart man, you see. love, romantic feelings, to act like a couple and all of those things— these might be the most confused that tom riddle will ever be, because otherwise, he's an extremely competent, capable young man.

tom riddle does get confused, a little lost on what to do; he'd torture himself by discreetly watching couples at hogwarts interacting, maybe make some research (= read novels. romantic novels. it was a discovery of a new medieval torture for tom, seriously, to waste his precious time reading some sappy crap like that.) to better understand how to handle you.

how to deal with you.

how to cherish you, so that you don't ever entertain the idea of leaving him. you see, tom is a practical man— he'd rather not commit mistakes, because to fail, means to spend extra time fixing his error and doing the same thing twice, so that this time, it's done correctly.

applying this ideology to you, it means: that 1) tom riddle prefers to always keep your heart happy, so that you don't have doubts about him; so that 2) he won't have to take twice the effort to conquer the city of your heart again.

some think that tom wouldn't like petnames. to be fair, tom would frown at many of those, at first— thinking that they were cringe, disgusting or a psychological way to acquire diabetes. however, when tom gets used to this stir on his heart, those loud heart beatings that cloud his rational thoughts...

... it's excused to say that tom's preferred petname to call you by, is 'my love'.

tom reasons that's because it isn't a lie at all. well, you're certainly his— and because of you, because of your existence, of this enchanting aura of yours; that's how tom riddle discovered love. there are few things that tom is attached to. even fewer that he shows to care about, to have affectionate feelings for; one of them is the basilisk. others are his favorite books, all of them first editions that were troublesome, but endlessly worth it, to get. nevertheless, at the peak of the pyramid, there's you.

you. oh, how your name sounds so angelic, so right, so perfect on his lips. sometimes, tom doesn't call you by any petnames, so that he can mouth each syllable of your name, tasting the acquaintance of the name of his darling on his lips.

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’

he might call you by other petnames, depending on the occasions:

darling; which, in his opinion, is fairly one of the best petnames to be shared between a couple. because you, reader, are endearing to his eyes— a darling, really, whose presence immediately softens (ever so slightly, because tom riddle still is tom riddle himself, and that mask of stoicism of his won't be broken without putting up a fight.) those previously icy, cold eyes of his.

dearest; if tom is trying to reason with you. unlike what many think, tom would take a deep breath, put on that handsome smile of his, and use a gentle tone to convince some words inside that pretty little head of yours. 'dearest', he calls for you— so gentle, so full of affection; as if reminding you that you are the object of all of his affections and desires. you, his dearest, the one he adores the most. the reminder of such a fact easily melts you in less than a few seconds, which tom sees as too perfect of an opportunity to lose to convince you much faster.

doll; if you look rather ravishing to his eyes, whenever you dress up even prettier than other school days, and wear such pretty clothes and many accessories to further optimize your beauty. beautiful, perfect, flawless; like a doll. a carefully made doll. a doll, that sits there quiet and all pretty, obedient, doing as she's told.

( i must warn you, though, that tom won't entertain silly nicknames from you. tom riddle will ignore you, march forward without sparing a glance at you, not even acknowledging your presence should you insist on the matter. tom won't answer you, should you refer to him by such hideous petnames. you could be about to fall from a mountain, and yet tom won't help you until you address him properly. baby? he's not a child, for salazar's sake! pookie bear? now that might make tom riddle himself throw you off from the mountain's edge— call him such a monstrosity like that, and tom will lose every drop of faith on you. you're a lost cause. )

if he had to choose; yes, tom would prefer if you were obedient. contrary to popular belief, tom riddle is quite fascinated with sweet personas. to have a sweet significant other, who's all smiles and considerate words— it's so, so much easier for tom.

between a brat that trashes around for his attention, and a sweet girl who gently tries to indulge (purely out of concern, wanting him to share his problems with her!)— tom would rather choose the latter.

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’

quite the darling you are. to boldly take tom's hands between your own, with that frown of yours. no, you're not being whiny; yet tom can see that there's consideration, there's time spent on that little brain of yours, that tries to find the right words to speak with him.

then, when you voice your concerns— that tom spends some time alone from time to time, seemingly hiding something from you, as if to shoulder all of those burdens all by himself...

tom takes a deep breath, swallowing his temper. trying to keep his composure, because tom hates having to justify his actions. with a smile, tom puts on a facade, with a too much convincing tone: "oh, dearest, no. i'm flattered that you noticed that i haven't been having the best days; however, your presence makes everything better. in fact, being with you now, makes all of my problems seem insignificant in comparison."

should his sweet words not be enough to keep your nose out of his business, then tom takes a step further. holding your hands, tom squeezes them between his fingers, gently at first, tightly when you're too stubborn: "my problems are mine to solve, my love. i would never put such a heavy burden on you; your smile is too precious for me to ruin."

sweet, sweet words; some that tom mentally grimaces at, but knows that are necessary and effective with you. talking as if he's doing you a favor on keeping you away from his PERSONAL thoughts and goals.

and that's how tom pushes you way. gently, smoothly— so that you'd have to rethink this moment over and over, for you to understand that once again, tom riddle has tricked you; tricked you into doing what he wants. because without a fight, without you daring to bother him further... tom riddle made you go back to your own business, and leave his alone.

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’

however, when tom is in a better mood and less stressed with his own goals, he'd find it funny, entertaining even, if his darling tried to be bossy. to pout, to want some sort of control. it's hilarious for him.

so, he indulges you. well, sort of— tom tricks you into thinking that he gave in to your commands. to your whims. in a sneaky way, tom makes you think that you're in control!

the one who's in charge is you. yes, darling, of course. he pats your head, gives you that charming smile of his. with such a serene expression, tom briefly raises his eyebrows, mocking you inside that devious mind of his, as he says: you are absolutely right, dearest.

tom riddle doesn't really mind that you aren't consciously aware that the one in charge is him. that's fine; no, seriously, go and brag about it!

because ultimately, tom knows that what he says, goes. that with some sweet words of his, a little touch here and there, that you'll soon see the reason and comply to whatever tom wishes you to say, to do, to behave.

he does is so smoothly, that even for the outsiders, well... it'd be hard to realize that all that tom riddle is doing to you, is nothing but manipulation. and you're oh so easy to manipulate— it was a challenge at first. now, it's more of a chore; tom barely blinks through it. he knows you so well.

however, so that you whining and getting used to think that you're having things done your way, tom throws some praises and compliments here and there.

touching you chin, gently brushing his thumb on your lower lip; tom's gaze intentionally softens, as he praises: 'you're just too good to be true, my love.', whenever you act accordingly. when you do as he says.

brushing a strand of yours away from your face, so that he can further admire the physical features of his beloved: 'i sincerely can't take my eyes of you, darling, when you are so good for me like this. pardon the way that i stare— you're too beautiful.'

and with even more sincerity, tom riddle isn't sure where his manipulation ends and his genuine care for you starts; tom isn't sure, whether his words are now a muscle memory of his, or if he truly means them.

but he never allows himself to discover the roots of this thought. to actually find out if he truly is such an emotionally shallow person, or if his weakness for his darling is deeper than he realizes. no— this is one of the few matters, in which tom would rather remain ignorant about.

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’

because tom is such a gentleman with you...

opening doors for you. walking two, three steps ahead of you as soon as the entrance is upon sight, tom will open the door for you; his arm keeps it open for you to enter or leave the room first, and so those grayish-green eyes of his watch you, as you pass by. then, tom will enter just behind you, following your lead, quickening his steps to go back to his rightful place by your side. he lies to himself, saying that he only does such a small gesture to effortlessly keep you by his side. tom would be telling the truth, if he doesn't interrupt the thought that he enjoys to escort you— because, deep down, tom genuinely appreciates your company. every step, every minute you spend together. 'here, love. please, continue; what did you tell your housemate, then?'

tom riddle refuses to let you carry heavy books. so, as if it was muscle memory and so smoothly that you can't do anything about it, tom will carry your books along with his, as soon as you leave the classroom. it's not that he finds you useless, incapable; rather, tom riddle perceives you as a... preciously delicate, fragile little thing. most of the times, tom does it so nonchalantly that you don't even notice; you're too distracted by your conversation, to notice how tom carries your stuff, busying his arms. however, should you notice or worry that you're being a burden to tom in any way; tom shakes his head at you, waving off this silly insecurity of yours: 'i know you can carry them, beloved. however, allow me to do it for you. i am your boyfriend, am i not?'

offering his hand for you to take, whenever there's a higher step to be climbed up, or tricky stairs on your way. tom will do it too, to give you some kind of support, should you jump off of a particular high edge. whenever you wear high heels, tom would be specially careful with you— he offers his arm or hand for you to take, walking in a much slower pace than usual, so that you won't overexert your feet. we can't have his darling getting hurt, now can we? no bruises, no pain, no redness on your skin undesired by him, nothing to interrupt the lovely time you're spending together. 'take my hand, my love; it's quite high for you. that's it, darling, good girl.'

whenever you're about to sit, tom grabs the back of your chair, pushing the seat backwards for you to take, then helps you settle closer to the table. only then, will tom take his own seat in front of you. it's something that becomes so, so common between both of you, that sometimes you find yourself taking a few more seconds to sit down, whenever you hang out with your friends; unconsciously, you'd wait for tom to gently guide you to your seat. oh, you're spoiled.

leaning down to get the material you accidentally knocked out; if he's not quick enough to notice, then tom will keep his hand on the edge of the table, so that there's no chance for you to hit your head. 'quite the klutz, aren't you, darling?' — with a lighthearted tone, so that he doesn't come by as mean, tom couldn't help but to tease you just this time, — 'next time, let me get it for you, dearest. now, careful with your head.'

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’

... and because he's always so soft-spoken with you, well, how could you listen to your friends, in case they notice that maybe tom riddle isn't as a good guy as he lets on? that perhaps, he is a little controlling. that maybe, he's too overprotective of you.

→ and of course, being the fool you are, you stroll to the lion's cage (or should we call it snake?) and deliver all of this information on a silver platter for him.

SAT SIDEWAYS ON HIS LAP, tom settles your thighs to rest on top of his, while a hand is respectfully kept there; caressing the smooth skin, rubbing circles on the bare skin of your thigh, just inches underneath the hem of your skirt.

tom riddle keeps up a serene expression, sometimes humming in acknowledgement, to show you that he's listening to this ramble of yours. if it's a topic that seems to have bothered or upsets you, then tom will keep another hand on your lower back; he soothes you with small movements of his fingers.

oh, how funny. so this ravenclaw friend of yours, told you that it isn't normal for tom, your boyfriend, to comment whether you roll up your skirt during summer? that such a thing is being controlling? now that's something tom will have to deal with. perhaps, he'll only have to frame this irritating ravenclaw girl; have you ever thought that maybe, she's interested in tom? that must be why the ravenclaw is filling your pretty little brain with such absurd exaggerations of his doings. how lucky you are, to have an attentive boyfriend that easily notices when a friend of yours has bad intentions.

( for obvious reasons, tom despises amortentia. he finds it disgusting, but more than that, tom riddle perceives amortentia has a rather pathetic tool to get someone's affection. tom will never use it on you— he doesn't need to! however, he will get his hands on one, to use it on that nosy, insufferable ravenclaw friend of yours. only to prove his point. so that this nosy girl acts disgustingly flirty around tom, so that you'll come running back into his arms, crying about such an awful friend and that once again, tom was right. you apologize to him, for doubting his assumptions. you end this friendship and cut ties with the ravenclaw girl. and tom, well, tom riddle has once again rid both of you from troublesome outsiders. )

ah, now this is entertaining! so these friends of yours, housemates, have noticed that tom has been keeping an eye on you. now, dearest, that's rather silly, don't you think? so what if you seem to find the same familiar faces in the same space as you? do you really believe your friends' theories? that he sends his followers ''friends'' to follow you around the school? darling, hogwarts is quite enormous and spacious, yet all of you study together in the same castle. it's inevitable, to see familiar faces, here and there.

( however, tom will blame his followers. how difficult can it be, to follow, to stalk a girl like you? and to go unnoticed as they do that? sincerely, tom stares at them with such disgust, such disappointment, that his followers tremble under his gaze— the future dark lord even mentions the idea of getting rid of them. of throwing them away. after all, why would he need such useless, such incompetent boys like them, if they can't follow simple orders correctly? it's excused to say, that you'd never suspect being stalked again. 1) because tom reassured you that such a thought is rather silly; and 2), because these followers of tom riddle do a much better job. out of fear. )

oh, darling, what silly friends you have! sincerely, it seems like you only attract observant delusional friends, or attentive paranoid companies!

in the end, it doesn't matter if your friends tried to alert you about tom's toxic concerning flaws traits. because in the end, at night, he will have you nuzzling on his lap, holding you so tenderly; all of these warnings disappear into thin air, when tom makes you laugh at such accurate ridiculous accusations.

in conclusion: no, tom riddle would never be rude or snap at you; not if he can help it, not if he can keep his temper in check. he believes that the best way to keep you so effortlessly devoted and infatuated, to keep you willingly by his side, is to treat you with care (even if sometimes he has to manipulate his way into it). how lucky you are, to have such a obsessive caring boyfriend!

🪻 ; . . . fandom : harry potter.

— i'm endlessly faithful to theodore nott. however. the first to kick the entrance door to my heart was tom riddle. and what a man (i can't fix him. i would let him ruin my life him tho!), ladies and gentlemen.

the headers + gifs + icons aren't mine. credits to the respective creators ! 🌷

[webbluvrsugar]

THE PRETTIEST METHOD OF BETRAYAL.

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

cw: dark magic, corruption, coercion

“You’re a fool.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And what do I not know?”

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

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

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

It’s tricky.

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

Merlin, what are you doing?

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

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

“Fine?” He pulls away, smirks.

“I’ll fight for you.” You nod.

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

“Good.”

taglist: @stayonmars @baileebear @highkeyinlovewithhanjisung

[sriracharocks]

Tom Riddle Headcanons

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

possessive

like, VERY possessive

gets frequently jealous when you talk to boys (because"no one gets to enjoy what's mine")

not really into PDA, reserved in public (except hand holding and the occasional show-off that you're his by kissing you in front of everyone every now and then)

can't get his hands off of you in private

motivates you to study ("my girlfriend must also have the best grades in the school")

is quick to anger but calms down at your soothing caresses

loves it when you hug him but would never admit it out loud

knows about all of your little bodily imperfections and loves them

remembers every detail about you (yes, even the backstory behind the scar you got as a kid when you fell off the slide)

rough in bed, but can be gentle if you ask him nicely

appreciates every thing you do for him, no matter how big or little

would wage the next Trojan War for you if you're not in his line of sight

puts poison in your enemy's pumpkin juice in the Great Hall during breakfast ("your enemy is my enemy too")

always finds time for you, no matter how busy he gets with his ambitions to conquer the Wizarding World

[doremimosasol]

𝐑𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 - 𝐓𝐨𝐦 𝐑𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞 𝐎𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 ☆

warnings: suggestive? honestly not really, nothing much tbh

word count: 3,6 k

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

@thatdammchickennugget ‘s Hogmarch challenge prompt 3

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Filthy cheater, we go again!"

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

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

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

"Deal."

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

Oh, but how so wrong you were...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A ring.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Kiss me."

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

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

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

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

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

[westcanaan82]

🍁 The leaves weren’t the only thing falling this week as we spent a little time picking pumpkins with the boys. 🧡🎃

Thank you to the gourd-geous @iclingtolife for carving out the time to help make this weeks theme go by without a hitch and for adding on to our bonus boy of the week roster by bringing Garreth along for the ride 💚

[midnightgrimoire]

Tom Riddle x twin reader (fem) (AU)

Cowritten by @chxrrybomb22 @midnightgrimoire

[ Sorry if there are spelling mistakes we did go did poof read it and we are both dyslexic feedback would be Appreciated any reposts would also be appreciated ☺️)

18+ warning - We don’t know what warning to add. (Just so you know, it will be dark, just not yet) (first ever fic posted) ~ (P.T 1 remake)

The moodbord was made by both of us x

(Tom Riddle) - {Christian Coulson}

( Adelaide Riddle) - {Lily Collins}

(Alexander McLaggen) - {Hayden Christensen)

Story:

Tom and Adelaide Riddle are like a ying and yang one represent the good and one represents the evil. They have had a shit childhood and that putting it lightly. From their mother drugging their father with a love potion which has only effected tom not Adelaide ( nobody knows for certain why) as Tom has grown to become obsessive and controlling over Adelaide.

Living in an orphanage was not all sunshine and rainbow as Adelaide was bullied for being ‘weaker than Tom and more valuable’. If you are wondering what happened to their mother and father you will be shocked that their mother loved a muggle who didn’t love her back so she drugged him with a love potion and once she given birth the potion worn off and their father fled in fright as he ‘woke up from a sleep’ and he was terrified to find out he was married to a woman he didn’t know and has just given birth to his ‘twins’.

Once Tom and Adelaide were 11 they were approached by a man called Dr.Dumbledore. Who they thought was a doctor to help Tom after he had ‘accident’ with an other child in the orphanage after Adelaide kept playing with the child everyday and not Tom unknowingly putting that child in risk. People were often too scared to approach Adelaide when tom was lurking about which confused the poor girl as to her he was the best brother and twin anyone could ask for ( not knowing how evil he truly was. Completely convinced the ‘accidents were just that accidents’}.

(Time jump to first year in hogwarts after being sorted into different houses)

To say tom was livid was an understatement of the century would not be accurate to the rage he was feeling after hearing the sorting hat split him and his precious twin “ how would she survive without him?” Whyl he was simmering with rage she was content to have made new friends as back in the orphanage she had no friends due to toms actions.

At the hufflepuf table Adelaide was happy to be making friends and having playful conversations with people who didn’t run away in fear of her brother. And this is when she met her future best friend and soon to be lover Alexander McLaggen. For the poor boy it was love at first sight when he saw Adelaide and her soft, warm doe eyes, the complete opposite of Toms cold and calculating eyes. He was completely enamoured which her.

And yes if you are wondering his great-nephew is Cormac McLaggen, the only difference is Alexander was raised right. He felt more comfortable with Adelaide knowing she was ‘ment’ to be in Slytherin with her twin, Knowing they were in the ‘wrong house’ as his family before him were all in Gryffinod the pressure was immense.

Half way through the year tom confronts his sister and warns her to stay away from the boy “not only are we not in the same house but now you’re talking and hanging around MCcLaggen. That childish twat doesn’t stop talking about quidich and doesn’t even know basic potions”

And her response were “so what if he doesn’t stop talking about the things he’s like i mean look at me i love to talk about animals and plants, dose that mean there is something wrong with me? Do I annoy you too? Tom? I am also bad at positions dose that mean I’m stupid?’

“ no your not don’t say something like that your not stupid or annoying you’re my sister, my twin, two half of one soul i could never get mad at you” but what he didn’t say was ‘but i can get mad at everyone else who got in my way to you’.

{ time jump to their 3rd year Tom find out they kiss }

Now they been at school for 3 year everything was going smoothly tom doesn’t know about Adelaide and Alexander secret meetings for the last to years outside the common rooms. ( the only time they get to see each other is in the common rooms as tom makes sure to keep them both separated from each other).

Tom demanded Adelaide to meet him in the library for a study session “what do you mean you don’t get it Adelaide we have been over this you add the water after the trolls snot”

“ but its too hard to remember how do you remember it? It’s too hard can’t we just go in the gardens and looks for bunnies?”

“ you know better than anyone else ‘bunnies’ wouldn’t be on hog warts grounds the womping willow will kill them all and-“ and this was when tom was interrupted by a Cher air and oblivious Alexander not knowing tom hated his guts. “ Adelaide fancy seeing you here i thought you said you don’t like to read?”

At this point you can see this is were tom anger started to boil “ well she needs to learn somehow and no thanks to you.”

“ ok not gonna lie that was a bit harsh but what can you do? We all cant be good at everything like you mister perfect.” Watching the pissing match between the two boys Adelaide had enough and decided she was finished watching them metaphorically go at each others throats. “ ok, ok, ok, Enough i get it, I get it your both the pretty girls. But i need to go and i have had it with you and all your bickering. McLaggen i will see you in the common rooms later after class, don’t forget you need to give back that ‘ book you borrowed’” she quickly got up and headed off the common rooms all the why’ll tom was giving both of them death glares. “ sure ill go get it now” they both race off together to the common rooms to avoid toms glare.

After Tom sneakers in the hufflepuff common rooms to see Adelaide he notice she not there and he starts to panick as it is past curfew set by the teachers, as he starts to franctily search around the common room only to come across fain noise in one of the alcoves on the wall. Pulling the curtain with a greate amount of force only to find not to ind his twin, his other half with none other than that low life boy!!!!!.

Adelaide and Alexander were in their own world completely unaware of tom presents. As Adelaide was telling Alexander all about the new bird she had found.

“I was shocked because it’s not everyday you see a Red-Baked Shrike” Adelaide spoke with so much enthusiasm it was almost like her eyes were sparking. “So what is a red-Baked shrike? And were did you find it?”

“A Red-Baked shrike is a little off white bird with brown wings and back line a cross it eye s almost as if it doesn’t want you to know who it is ~” she slowly stops talking only to see Alexander is staring at her lip with such a intense gaze it could have melt ice and all Alexander could think was how stunning her brown eye look and how the colour in her eyes looks like the most inviting hot cup of hot coco (her favourite drink). Alexander couldn’t help him self from starring at her and thinking when he is around her time stops as if he had the choice all he could listen to was her voice for all eternity. “Can i just say you have the most welcoming and softest voice i have ever had the pleasure of hearing in my life” as he basked in her inviting aura. “ I-I-I don’t really know how to respond s-s-sorry?”

“ let me respond for you-“ before he new it he had worked up the courage to lean over and give her a kiss.

Her lip were Devine, the softest of any silk and My God she tasted better than he could have ever imagined. Adelaide was at shock at first because she didn’t think her best friend and her long time crush would like her never mind kissing her. ( The woman was stunned to speak)she was stunned in to silence and then she returned the kiss with just as much if not more passion. They broke apart from their kiss looking at each other as if they were the only ones left in the world. “Can i just say that was the BEST kiss I’ve ever had in my life” that statement caused Adelaide to ruin the mood by lauhing out loud and Antalya saying “that WAS your first kiss you have nothing to compère it with.”

Unknown to them tom was watching the whole scene go down. He was all but ready to rag that little shit to the forbidden forest and feed him to the monsters that lay within. The amount of rage he was feeling was incomprehensible the only thing that stopped him from confronting them. Was the fact that they were in the Hufflepuff common room as well as the prefects finish the rounds of the castle for the night. Once tom finally makes it to his room he begins to make plans on how to separate that little cunt and his pressure little Adelaide.

[chxrrybomb22]

Tom Riddle x twin reader (fem) (AU)

Cowritten by @chxrrybomb22 @midnightgrimoire

[sorry if their is spelling mistakes we did go did poof read it and we are both dyslexic]

18+ warning - We don’t know what warning to add. ~Just so you know it will be dark just not yet~ (P.T 1 remake feedback would be appreciated and any repost ☺️)

(Tom Riddle) - {Christian Coulson}

( Adelaide Riddle) - {Lily Collins}

(Alexander McLaggen) - {Hayden Christensen}

The three moon bored are made by both me and @midnightgrimoire and they are at the bottom

Tom and Adelaide Riddle are like a ying and yang one represent the good and one represents the evil. They have had a shit childhood and that putting it lightly. From their mother drugging their father with a love potion which has only effected tom not Adelaide ( nobody knows for certain why) as Tom has grown to become obsessive and controlling over Adelaide.

Living in an orphanage was not all sunshine and rainbow as Adelaide was bullied for being ‘weaker than Tom and more valuable’. If you are wondering what happened to their mother and father you will be shocked that their mother loved a muggle who didn’t love her back so she drugged him with a love potion and once she given birth the potion worn off and their father fled in fright as he ‘woke up from a sleep’ and he was terrified to find out he was married to a woman he didn’t know and has just given birth to his ‘twins’.

Once Tom and Adelaide were 11 they were approached by a man called Dr.Dumbledore. Who they thought was a doctor to help Tom after he had ‘accident’ with an other child in the orphanage after Adelaide kept playing with the child everyday and not Tom unknowingly putting that child in risk. People were often too scared to approach Adelaide when tom was lurking about which confused the poor girl as to her he was the best brother and twin anyone could ask for ( not knowing how evil he truly was. Completely convinced the ‘accidents were just that accidents’}.

{ time jump to first year in Hogwarts after being sorted into different houses}

To say tom was livid was an understatement of the century would not be accurate to the rage he was feeling after hearing the sorting hat split him and his precious twin “ how would she survive without him?” Whyl he was simmering with rage she was content to have made new friends as back in the orphanage she had no friends due to toms actions.

At the hufflepuf table Adelaide was happy to be making friends and having playful conversations with people who didn’t run away in fear of her brother. And this is when she met her future best friend and soon to be lover Alexander McLaggen. For the poor boy it was love at first sight when he saw Adelaide and her soft, warm doe eyes, the complete opposite of Toms cold and calculating eyes. He was completely enamoured which her.

And yes if you are wondering his great-nephew is Cormac McLaggen, the only difference is Alexander was raised right. He felt more comfortable with Adelaide knowing she was ‘ment’ to be in Slytherin with her twin, Knowing they were in the ‘wrong house’ as his family before him were all in Gryffinod the pressure was immense.

Half way through the year tom confronts his sister and warns her to stay away from the boy “not only are we not in the same house but now you’re talking and hanging around MCcLaggen. That childish twat doesn’t stop talking about quidich and doesn’t even know basic potions”

And her response were “so what if he doesn’t stop talking about the things he’s like i mean look at me i love to talk about animals and plants, dose that mean there is something wrong with me? Do I annoy you too? Tom? I am also bad at positions dose that mean I’m stupid?’

“ no your not don’t say something like that your not stupid or annoying you’re my sister, my twin, two half of one soul i could never get mad at you” but what he didn’t say was ‘but i can get mad at everyone else who got in my way to you’.

{ time jump to their 3rd year Tom find out they kiss }

Now they been at school for 3 year everything was going smoothly tom doesn’t know about Adelaide and Alexander secret meetings for the last to years outside the common rooms. ( the only time they get to see each other is in the common rooms as tom makes sure to keep them both separated from each other).

Tom demanded Adelaide to meet him in the library for a study session “what do you mean you don’t get it Adelaide we have been over this you add the water after the trolls snot”

“ but its too hard to remember how do you remember it? It’s too hard can’t we just go in the gardens and looks for bunnies?”

“ you know better than anyone else ‘bunnies’ wouldn’t be on hog warts grounds the womping willow will kill them all and-“ and this was when tom was interrupted by a Cher air and oblivious Alexander not knowing tom hated his guts. “ Adelaide fancy seeing you here i thought you said you don’t like to read?”

At this point you can see this is were tom anger started to boil “ well she needs to learn somehow and no thanks to you.”

“ ok not gonna lie that was a bit harsh but what can you do? We all cant be good at everything like you mister perfect.” Watching the pissing match between the two boys Adelaide had enough and decided she was finished watching them metaphorically go at each others throats. “ ok, ok, ok, Enough i get it, I get it your both the pretty girls. But i need to go and i have had it with you and all your bickering. McLaggen i will see you in the common rooms later after class, don’t forget you need to give back that ‘ book you borrowed’” she quickly got up and headed off the common rooms all the why’ll tom was giving both of them death glares. “ sure ill go get it now” they both race off together to the common rooms to avoid toms glare.

After Tom sneakers in the hufflepuff common rooms to see Adelaide he notice she not there and he starts to panick as it is past curfew set by the teachers, as he starts to franctily search around the common room only to come across fain noise in one of the alcoves on the wall. Pulling the curtain with a greate amount of force only to find not to ind his twin, his other half with none other than that low life boy!!!!!.

Adelaide and Alexander were in their own world completely unaware of tom presents. As Adelaide was telling Alexander all about the new bird she had found.

“I was shocked because it’s not everyday you see a Red-Baked Shrike” Adelaide spoke with so much enthusiasm it was almost like her eyes were sparking. “So what is a red-Baked shrike? And were did you find it?”

“A Red-Baked shrike is a little off white bird with brown wings and back line a cross it eye s almost as if it doesn’t want you to know who it is ~” she slowly stops talking only to see Alexander is staring at her lip with such a intense gaze it could have melt ice and all Alexander could think was how stunning her brown eye look and how the colour in her eyes looks like the most inviting hot cup of hot coco (her favourite drink). Alexander couldn’t help him self from starring at her and thinking when he is around her time stops as if he had the choice all he could listen to was her voice for all eternity. “Can i just say you have the most welcoming and softest voice i have ever had the pleasure of hearing in my life” as he basked in her inviting aura. “ I-I-I don’t really know how to respond s-s-sorry?”

“ let me respond for you-“ before he new it he had worked up the courage to lean over and give her a kiss.

Her lip were Devine, the softest of any silk and My God she tasted better than he could have ever imagined. Adelaide was at shock at first because she didn’t think her best friend and her long time crush would like her never mind kissing her. ( The woman was stunned to speak)she was stunned in to silence and then she returned the kiss with just as much if not more passion. They broke apart from their kiss looking at each other as if they were the only ones left in the world. “Can i just say that was the BEST kiss I’ve ever had in my life” that statement caused Adelaide to ruin the mood by lauhing out loud and Antalya saying “that WAS your first kiss you have nothing to compère it with.”

Unknown to them tom was watching the whole scene go down. He was all but ready to rag that little shit to the forbidden forest and feed him to the monsters that lay within. The amount of rage he was feeling was incomprehensible the only thing that stopped him from confronting them. Was the fact that they were in the Hufflepuff common room as well as the prefects finish the rounds of the castle for the night. Once tom finally makes it to his room he begins to make plans on how to separate that little cunt and his pressure little Adelaide.

[gulnarsultan]

Could you write a smutty scenario with Christian Coulson and fem!Reader 🥺 maybe when he is playing a role for a movie. Have a wonderful day! Thank you

Hello. I hope you like it.

"Scenario."

Christian actress is the reader's secret admirer. He watches over and over again all the movies reader has played. It collects all the news about the reader. It stocks your reader every day. Christian nearly passed out when he found out that they were playing the same role in a movie and were going to shoot an obscene scene.

On the day that scene is shot, Christian is very excited. He will be as gentle with you as he can. He will memorize every reaction you give. He will act slowly while touching you and fucking you. Trying to prolong these memories you spent together. He wishes you moan his name instead of the role name.

[cicidarkarts]

Filthy Little Muggle

Tom Riddle x Fem!Reader ~Blowjob, rough sex, Dom Riddle, coercion/dubious con, voice kink, parseltongue kink; 18+~

Growing up in Wool’s Orphanage hadn’t been the worst thing. At least, not during the school year, where the infamous Tom Riddle fucked off to whatever elite boarding school he’d been accepted into. You never understood that. Riddle didn’t seem gifted or anything. You rather thought of him as an errant psychopath—one of those serial killers living in some hovel. In any case, those wonderful months lived fairly well in your screwed up memories. It was when he returned during the summer that your life—and the lives of the other children—were haunted.

But you’re out now, working late nights at the coffee shop. It’s a crummy little thing in the middle of nowhere, but because it’s one of the few cafes in Little Hangleton, your business booms. Plus, sight-seers love to come along as tourists and crowd your shop just to get a look at the old Riddle Estate. Odd how you never could escape that name. Tom Riddle. It seemed to pop up everywhere, especially when you didn’t want it to.

Though, you have to admit, your curiosity piques every time another group of thrill-seekers gushes to themselves in the corner about having seen “that old git, Frank” or “a spectre in the window, I swear it was!”. Whenever you walk home in the late evenings, you try to catch a look at the Estate. Once, you swore you saw a strange flash of light, but it’s more typical that you see nothing.

Tonight you decide to finally get closer. You’re sure your horrible decision is influenced by the ceaseless jabbering from those damned teenage thrill-seekers, but you have to see for yourself if it’s truly haunted. Being a Friday, you know for a fact that old codger, Frank, is getting smashed at the local pub, and the teens are around on the weekends. It’s the perfect time to check the estate out for yourself.

You creep up to the house—its gates locked, thick hedges hiding the yard. It’s not difficult to climb over the wrought-iron gate and land upon the plush grass. You observe the house, the looming shadows and large curtained windows. Darkness penetrates the mansion and threatens the grounds. As silent as possible, you stalk around, avoiding the shadows of that creaky old mansion, trying to see inside any of the windows. All are black from the overhanging curtains within.

You spot an odd sort of flash from one of the upper rooms. Gasping, you leap back then slap your hands over your mouth. Whatever the fuck that is, you don’t need it hearing you. That light you’d seen once all those weeks ago hadn’t been your imagination. Those adrenaline junkies are right, something is going on inside the estate. Whether that’s a haunting or not, you’re unsure if you want to find out. Your racing heart feels fit to burst. Perhaps that’s enough for one night—

A loud crack behind you makes you scream. Your voice is cut short by a hand muffling your mouth. An arm crushes your waist, clamping your hands to your side. You thrash, mind panicking as adrenaline pulses through your veins.

“Be quiet and quit struggling,” says a rather calm man’s voice.

Trembling, you try to obey. Your mind races; how did he get behind you? What was that loud noise? 

“I know you,” he says, a realization in his tone. “From the orphanage. Never thought I’d see one of you cretins again.”

That’s when it hits you: the voice, the disdain, the arrogance. He releases your mouth to whirl you around. His face confirms it.

“Tom Riddle?” you say, gawking.

His dark eyes observe you. He’s always been extraordinarily handsome, and despite the slight grey of bags under his eyes, that still holds true. But behind that gorgeous exterior, you know, the heart of a psychopath beats—or, doesn’t. You quiver more now, standing before such a heartless monster. The monster that had driven your fellow orphans to end their suffering once they came of age. They couldn’t handle their trauma on top of real world loneliness. Perhaps they were the lucky ones, as they would never again have to lay eyes upon Tom Marvolo Riddle.

“You remember me,” he says, smirking, nostrils flaring as if looking upon you with equal parts disgust and intrigue. “I remember you, too. Always the cynic, weren’t you? Never fully trusted me. You’re one of the few Muggles that isn’t completely stupid.” “Muggles?” “They come from everywhere, don’t they? All over the UK, throwing themselves at this place like lab rats. Curiosity got you, too, it seems. But don’t you know? The rats that scurry too close to the Riddle Estate never make it out.” You shudder at his words and the cold glare of his soulless eyes. “Wait, Tom, please. We’ve known each other for so long—” “We’ve never known each other. Not that it would matter. I don’t hold sympathy for disgusting Muggles.”

He takes a step back, and you’re about to run in fear. He whips out what looks like a stark white, crooked stick. After a blast of blueish light, your arms snap behind your back, your ankles clasp together, and you collapse into soft grass. You flail against invisible binds, lungs and throat burning from your frantic heart.

Riddle grabs you by the scruff of your shirt. That same cracking whip screeches in your ears, your world is thrown into chaos that roils your stomach, and you’re shoved to a kneeling position. All you see is Riddle’s dark attire while your hands are fastened to something above your head. Your back digs into a wall behind you. When Riddle moves, you see that you’re surrounded by the old dark wood of the estate, staring at the other side of the curtains.

Your gaze darts around the room—a cauldron steams on the table, books are open all around, there’s a desk with a quill and ink and papers filled with writing, and phials of oddly colored liquid sit upon shelves. A human skeleton in the corner—most of its bones missing—makes you gasp as your blood runs like ice. Then Riddle catches your attention.

“I’ve been hard at work,” he says. “Doing things you Muggles could never even dream of. Such horribly inferior creatures.”

He leans over to look you in the eyes, like a parent scolding their misbehaving child. His fingertips trail along your hair and down your jawline. That darkness in his eyes contorts into something more sinister and a chill tears across your spine.

“I was considering making you yet another part of my experiments, but it seems like such a waste.” “Tom, please,” you beg, “don’t hurt me.” His index finger runs across your quivering lower lip. “Do as I say, and maybe you’ll be the first to make it out of here alive.”

His hands cup your face. This forces you to stare into those heartless eyes, settling acid upon your stomach and glistening your palms in sweat. His following words send a jolt of terror through you.

“You’ve grown into a gorgeous woman, haven’t you?”

You don’t get a chance to question him. He presses his warm lips into yours and shoves his tongue into your mouth. You struggle back as far as you can, but the wall mashes you into Riddle and keeps you close. His hands grab the back of your head, yanking against your scalp as he grasps you. His tongue rolls along the inside of your mouth, and his lips kiss and nip yours. A treacherous moan escapes your throat from his practiced motions.

It comes as no shock to you that he's aggressive and forceful, but you're stunned at how wet it's making you. Despite the coercion, you find yourself kissing him back in unexpected fervor. He's such an arsehole, you can't stand looking at his stupid handsome face. Yet you're coming undone by his presence—his high cheekbones and dark hair, his perfect nose and plump pink lips, those cute beauty marks flecking his pale flesh.

He pulls away from his seductive kiss, leaving you leaning toward him for more. He chuckles, a low sound that sets off the long-forgotten alarm bells in your head. But your aroused mind is far too bleary to pay them heed.

"Enjoying yourself?" he asks. "You absolute harlot. Look how hard your nipples are."

He caresses your breasts, thumbs rolling over your protruding nipples. You bite your tongue, trying and failing to repress your pleasured noises, which makes Riddle chuckle again. Darker this time. Lower and more threatening. He mutters something that you don’t understand, something in a vicious hiss. He squeezes your nipples in his fingers and you cry out from the intense pain. The pressure morphs into masochistic jolts of bliss.

"Oh, fuck!" you call out. "More, Tom! Please!" "You vile whore. Seëlúth a laëth," he hisses.

Your mind reels, shock settling in. Those words that came out of you hardly felt like your own. Riddle has you bewitched, enthralled by his callous gaze and beautiful face. His skilled fingers and tongue and lips keep you ensnared.

His fingers release you and he stands, leaving you a panting mess. You're about to beg for more again but your words stop short as he unzips his pleated pants. Frozen, you hold your breath as he reaches into his pants and brings out his cock.

Your breath releases in a quivering mess of ardor. The pale shaft juts out toward your face, ending in the most pleasant peach-colored head. An enticingly thick vein runs along the side, where yet another beauty mark sits above it. The whole length of his cock makes your mouth water. You lick your lips and swallow some of the excess spit.

"Kiss it," he says.

You meet him halfway and trail kisses all over his beautiful dick. Wherever your lips can reach, you place a kiss. You watch his face, at that satisfied and shit-eating smirk as he observes you worshiping his cock.

"Good little Muggle," he says with a cruel chuckle.

He grabs his dick and smacks it into your cheek and upon your open mouth. As it hits your tongue, you taste his gentle flavor, and your mind screams at you to have more. 

“Want to suck my cock?” “Yes, Tom.” “Beg for it. Tell me exactly how you want me to fuck your repulsive throat.” “Please fuck my mouth. Shove your cock down my throat and fuck me until you cum. I want it hard. I want you to dominate me, Tom. Please!”

His cock twitches. He snatches your hair again and thrusts past your lips. You’re forced to suppress a gag when he digs into the back of your throat. He fucks you, holding onto your hair like reins. He doesn’t care to let you breathe, making you gasp through your nose at any chance you can. With every buck, saliva dribbles out of your mouth, sticking to his cock like long, slippery ropes. Your eyes roll as you fuss over his ruthless sex.

"Look at you, drooling all over my cock with your filthy Muggle mouth. You disgusting wretch, you're loving this, aren't you? Taking me so deep."

He proves it by plunging down until your nose mashes against his stomach. Your raw throat burns in pain, your starved lungs cry out for air, and your stomach does its best to remain steady as you hold back a gag. He holds you there for a moment, observing your tear-stained face. His smirk widens as he returns to an easier rhythm.

"You should be honored," he says, his breathing erratic. "To taste my cock is an amazing privilege. And with the way you're letting me use your whore throat, maybe you'll get to swallow my cum soon."

You moan, haggard and exhausted but craving more. Your hands wriggle desperately, frantic to be released from their binds so you can touch your hungry clit. Riddle fucks you harder as he pants and grunts and murmurs. He says things in that other language, like sharp hissing. It chills your blood to listen to such an ominous, elegant noise.

"I'm going to cum down that wet, tight throat," he spits between his zealous hissing. "Want me to grace your throat with my cum?"

You moan loud before he plunges all the way to the base of his cock. Hot seed gushes down your throat, threatening to choke you. He pulls back to let some of it spread along your tongue, giving you a taste of his essence. The saline and warmth goes down easily, detectably. You regret having swallowed so soon—to have that flavor within your mouth again, you feel you would give anything.

Panting, he stands over you. He pulls out and slaps his cock on your face. Then he takes that strange wooden rod, making you flinch as he waves it once. Your hands fall to your sides as your legs come undone, giving your arching limbs a chance to recover. He tears you to your feet by your wrists.

“Get undressed,” he says. “Quickly.”

You do as you’re ordered and remove everything except your bra before he slams you against the wall. His hard cock digs into your groin and he rips your bra down. He gnashes his teeth against your nipple, making you scream. Just as your pussy throbs for touch, his dick bucks inside of you. You’re forced to stand on your tip-toes as he impales you and he grabs one leg to throw it around his waist.

He releases your nipple and fucks your soaked pussy. With his bottom lip clamped in his teeth, he observes your pleasured face and caresses every dip and curve of your body. You throw your head back in utter ecstasy while you fuss over his thick cock. 

"You have such beautiful curves, my dove," he says. "Do you like it when I use your body this way, šchaëƒ?" "Yes, Tom! Please don't stop."

He pounds into you harder, his cock hitting your cervix in a mix of bliss and pain sending ripples of ecstasy through your body. He hisses into your ear more of that bizarre yet entrancing language.

"Sëyah šchaëƒ sçæn lëthay? Are you enjoying my cock, darling?" "Oh God, yes. Your cock feels amazing." "I could cum inside you. Get you pregnant. Wouldn't you like that, dove? Want me to put a baby inside you?" "Anything you want, Tom. Anything!" "Good answer."

His teeth snap down on your neck. You cry out, clawing his clothed back, one leg tight around his waist while the other still tip-toes to meet his merciless fucking. Juices roll along your thighs and you reach to play with your sensitive clit. Riddle snatches your wrist and holds it against the wall, all motions stopping as he leers into your eyes. His intense gaze tears a shudder through you.

"Oh, no, no," he says with a nasty chuckle. "You don't get to cum. Only I get to cum. Don't let me catch you playing with yourself, laëth, or I'll have to punish you. Now what do you say?" "I'm sorry, Tom." "Good Muggle."

He continues as if nothing happened, brutalizing your pussy and making you toss your head back in bliss. His cock jabs inside you, rubbing your plump walls, slapping your tired but eager cervix. He bites your throat everywhere he can reach as you squeal and mewl, before settling on a spot and forcefully sucking your skin.

"Oh, yes!" you say. "Mark me, please!"

One of his hands finds home upon your breasts, squishing and groping them from one to the other, snagging your nipples along the way. You're screaming and wriggling and dying for release. Your pussy throbs and aches, dripping with frenetic desire. He finally lets go of your flesh with a small pop of his mouth, then examines the mark left behind. His eyes trail over your sweaty face and lustful eyes, then, licking his lips, he smirks. 

"Look at that beautiful mark," he breathes. "Now everyone will see that I own you, filthy little slut. Want me to fill your tight cunt with my cum?" "Yes please, Tom," you say. "Own my pussy!"

He grunts and hisses, coming undone a second time as the familiar sound of his orgasm fills the room. His seed gushes hot inside of you. Your pussy clenches around him, throbbing as though hungrily devouring his semen. His head rests in the crook of your neck as he gasps for breath. Sex hormones flood you, making you hold him close, making you think and want to say inappropriate things.

You try to remind yourself of everything Tom Riddle has done. All the pain, all the trauma. Even today: coercing you with threats of violence, entrancing you into reveling in his sex. You aren't attached to this psychopath, you certainly don't love him; you simply want to leave and hope you never see him again. 

His cock is still stuck up inside you, mostly hard but coming down after his second peak. He's hardly disheveled, and once he looks at you, all that's left on his face of your sex is flushed cheeks. The darkness of his eyes grows stronger.

"That was good, Muggle. A night to remember."

He pulls away, his cock sliding out. Excess cum dribbles from your swollen lips. With that same crooked rod, he summons a rag off his cauldron table. Then he cleans himself off and returns his gorgeous cock to its confines. He doesn't offer to get you anything to clean up. Instead, he points his wand at you. 

"T-Tom?" "I may have gotten too ahead of myself, cumming so deep inside you. Can't have you spawning any filthy half-bloods, or worse—" He poorly represses his shudder. "Squibs. Sorry, šchaëƒ, but this is the end for you." "Wait, Tom, please—!" "Avada kedavra!"

The last thing you saw was a blast of green light, then you saw and felt nothing ever again.

[enha-stan]

Atp I feel like I'll have to make a separate post for Tom coz 😭😭😭😭

[writingsbychlo]

KNOW YOU LIKE I DO | tom riddle

summary; love letters are tom's way of communicating. unfortunately, he's not as good with his actions.

word count; 7036

notes; another one that I said was gonna be short and it wasn’t. I think I’m physically incapable of writing short fics, actually.

Dear Tom,

Tommy. 

My Tom. 

Do you still have that first letter I wrote to you, back in summer? No, I suppose you don’t, that’s not very like you. 

I’m drunk. Just a little bit (a lot), and I can’t take it anymore. Mattheo told me to tell you how I feel, and that is exactly what I’m going to do. He’s asleep on my bed right now, drooling into my favourite pillow waiting for me to write this. 

So here it is. 

I’m angry. I’m hurt. I’m confused. I’m in love. And it’s all your fault.

Staring across the crowded room, your eyes fixed back onto that of Tom Riddle. It wasn’t hard to spot him, not as he was the only man who came to a Christmas party dressed in all black and sat alone, brooding. His lips were pressed into a line, the lights bouncing off of those shiny curls, green and red splashed across his pale skin as he sipped at his drink, listening to the conversation Draco and Blaise were having, but never participating. 

Your heart lurched a little in your chest, just the mere sight of him had a thousand different feelings rearing their heads, and you sighed to yourself. Shaking your head, your attention was redirected to the drinks table, pouring yourself an extra strong helping of Giggle Gin and topping it off. The urge to look back over was strong, and you steadfastly ignored it, suppressing the urge and instead, turning your back to his direction, walking towards the group of girls giggling in the opposite corner. 

Taking your seat back in the comfy corner of the sofa, Pansy offered you a smile, her arm looped over Luna’s shoulders as the blonde cuddled into her side. Astoria was currently recounting the intimate details of her latest night with Draco, and you hid a smile in your cup as you tuned back into the conversation. 

You lost the battle with your will, however, gaze moving directly back across the room to Tom. He had a slight smirk on his face now as he watched Draco speak, and you did not doubt that he was receiving a tale of the exact same encounter Astoria was currently telling, only from a different point of view. 

Blonde cut across your vision, the perfect smile of Daphne blocking your view as she sat in front of you, severing any sights of Tom you might have had. “You know,” She started, grinning as she took a sip of your drink cheekily, before handing it back. “If you stare at him any harder, you’re gonna’ drill holes in the side of his head.”

You could only scoff, but no argument formed. Lately, all you’d been able to do was stare longingly at him across any room. You weren’t subtle, and you’d never been much good at hiding your feelings. Which seemed fitting, since you’d fallen for someone who was like a blank slate, permanently. 

Tom Riddle was a harder book to read than a tablet written in a never-before-discovered language. 

“He looks so… miserable, Daph.”

She glances over her shoulder at him, snorting a laugh, and turning her attention back to you. “Because Tom Riddle doesn’t go to parties, and he’s probably counting the minutes until he can leave.” She smirked a little, shuffling closer, perched on the edge of her seat as she leaned in, “At least, he didn’t go to parties. Until you, that is.”

Your cheeks flushed, a subtle hint at the running joke your friendship group had taken on. They’d all become convinced that Tom attended parties for you, ever since he’d been a willing guest for the first time at Draco’s end-of-summer bonfire bash, and spent the majority of the night talking with you. They refused to let it go. 

“You should go over there and cheer him up. I bet he’d be smiling in no time if you gave him a little attention.”

That was exactly the problem. You’d been giving him a little too much attention, and now, everyone was painfully aware of your feelings for him. Except for him, maybe. Either that, or he was just very good at pretending he didn’t notice, in a chance to let you down gently. You didn’t know which option was worse. “Don’t be ridiculous, Daph.”

“No, you don’t be ridiculous! You and him are… something else.” She took your free hand in hers, squeezing tightly. All amusement melted from her face, and she gave you a serious look. The expression she wore when advising her sister on Draco, or comforting Pansy after a panic attack. “Are you ever going to tell me what happened over the summer, or are you just going to keep acting like it wasn’t some cataclysmic shift?”

“So dramatic.” You hummed to your roommate.

“Still pretending, I see.” She teases lightly, but her brows are still furrowed. She waited a few more seconds, to see if you’ll crack. All you do is hold her steady gaze, and take a sip of your drink. With a sigh, she released your hand, and leans back in her chair. “Well, whatever. We can all see it, see how you two pine for one another, and how perfect you’d be together. Just go and talk to him! He’s probably sat over there waiting for you anyway. He had that exact same kicked-puppy expression on at the summer party, until you walked in.”

“He did not…” You murmur, the very thought making you blush. 

“I think that’s the first time I ever saw Tom Riddle smile. A real smile, not the smile he gets when threatening someone, or when Mattheo falls over. A good smile.” 

“Now you’re just making him out like some kind of sulky villain.” You retort, and she only raises a brow at you.

“Here, take him this box, and go talk to him. The poor boy looks lost over there without you.” Reaching under her chair, Daphne produces a familiar box, wrapped neatly in black paper with dark green ribbon, and your jaw drops. 

“Daphne!—” Reaching out to snatch it from her, your brows furrow. “Did you go through my things?”

“I didn’t exactly go through your things,” She grins, watching you turn over the label with his name written on neatly. “I just watched you hide it under your bed and got curious… it smells good. Is it cookies? Can I have one?”

When she reaches for the box, you slap the back of her hand, and she sticks her tongue out at you in return. “No! You cannot, you little snoop!”

“Fine! If you won’t let me have a cookie, then you have to go over there. You either give me a cookie, or you give me the satisfaction of seeing you and him smile.” Her arms crossed, her tone annoyed but her words caring, and love shone in her gaze as she stared at you. “Go on. Go over to him. Please.”

It wasn’t like you didn’t already want to, and with her encouragement, you were a weak woman to say no. Downing the rest of your drink for a little liquid courage, you hop to your feet, present clutched in your hands.

Weaving through the room, the bass notes of Mattheo’s custom-made playlist pumped through the room from the speakers, a playlist you might have slightly altered a few days ago to add a couple of songs, just to mix up his usual tastes. Your stomach was twisting nervously, but the alcohol in your veins made for a pleasant buzz as the distance between you both closed. 

After almost taking a ping-pong ball to the eye, courtesy of Theo on the beer-pong table, you cleared the games and settled into the pleasant atmosphere surrounding where the boys had set themselves up for the evening by the fire. When you approached, Tom looked up, frown melting away as the crease between his brows disappeared, and he sat up a little straighter as you approached. 

“Hi, doll,” He murmured, shifting his arm from the armrest of the chair, so that you could take a seat on it instead. That same arm soon wrapped around your waist, his head falling to rest on your shoulder, and your heart skipped a beat within your chest. “Where’ve you been?”

“Over there, with Daph and the girls.” You whisper in reply, balancing the box on your thighs, and pointing through the crowds to the barely visible patch of chairs and sofas you’d all been occupying. He only hummed, squeezing you a little closer. 

“Stay here with me for a while?”

“Sure,” Your voice hardly worked as you spoke, emotions clogging up, and you reached for the gift in your lap. “I have this for you, anyway. I made you those cookies you like so much.”

“You did?” His head lifted, and one of those pretty smiles that made your heart stop clean in your chest was adorning his lips. “The ones with the orange peel and the dark chocolate?”

“Those very ones.” You handed it to him, and he tugged at the ribbon covering the box, fingers flipping under the seals of the paper until it fell openly neatly. Flicking open the catch on the cardboard box, the smell of freshly baked treats filled the air, and he made a rumbling noise of happiness as he plucked on up, and took a bite. As you laughed at him, he took another, pushing it between your lips with a smirk while he chewed. 

He resealed the box, savouring them, as he did all things, and putting them on the table in front of himself. You held the cookie now, eating it slowly, as Draco and Blaise finally seemed to become aware of your presence. 

“I have a question.” Draco started, and your gaze moved to him, brow raising as you took the final bite. “Is Astoria over there talking about me?”

The blond smirked, and you twisted, lifting your legs to sit over Tom, ankles crossing on the opposite arm. “No, no. She’s been recounting a scene from a book.”

“What?”

“Yeah. You know, the fun books. It was really, really hot.” You teased, fanning yourself, and Tom chuckled, reaching over you for his drink, and taking a sip. Instead of putting it back down, he rested the cool glass on your thigh, his free hand coming to sit on your calf, rubbing lightly as you shivered at the touch. “Why? You think you’re better than a good spicy romance?”

“I know I am!” Draco huffed, and Blaise rolled his eyes, watching you wind his best friend up with barely a few words at all. “What book is this?”

“Oh, you don’t want to know…”

“I do want to know! Tell me!” His cheeks were turning pink, all the way up to the tips of his ears. In the spirit of Christmas, you took pity on him, rolling your eyes. 

“I think it was called… Astoria’s Diary.” 

It took a few seconds for it to register in Draco’s mind, and the furious pink turned to an embarrassed red, and he shook his head, eyes narrowed at you. “I despise you.”

“You love me.” You fired back, and he scoffed, but the edges of his lips pulled at a smile, and he looked away to cover it. Settling back a little more, you leaned into the cushion, feeling Tom roll his head across the cushion to lean in your direction. 

“I feel like I’ve barely seen you all week.” He says, voice low for only you to hear, and your head twists towards him You were close, close enough to pick out the different coloured flecks of colour in his eyes as he looked at you, and the hardly visible steaks of lighter brown that trailed naturally through his dark curls.

“Well, I’ve had detention all week, thanks to a certain someone.” You poked his chest, and he only smirked a little bit, shuffling his head a fraction closer. 

“I needed you, what can I say?”

“You needed someone to keep a lookout while you snuck into the restricted section again. Why did it have to be me?” You scoffed, working to keep the smile on your face as the answer to your own question flickered through your mind. He chose you because he knew you’d drop everything and come, the voice taunted; you buried it under the song playing and the laughter in the room so you didn’t have to think about it...

“Don’t act like you didn’t have fun when we ran.” He chuckled, hand sliding up your leg again, fingers lacing with your own. The same way they had when you’d been caught, and he’d grabbed your hand, the two of you ducking and weaving between stacks, fleeing through the corridors. Laughing and out of breath, he’d clutched your hand, thumb rubbing over your knuckles just like he was doing now, staring at you with those pretty eyes.

You hadn't been caught, but you had gotten detention for skipping class to go with him, and so you’d spent all five nights of your final week in detention, writing lines. You lifted your free hand, sighing with a nod, and running it through his curls. His eyes fluttered, head tipping back to follow your hand, and a content smile took over his lips. 

You loved to see him like this, to see him so carefree and happy, to see him relax at just your touch. You’d never seen him like this before. The thought that only you could do it to him sent a thrill down your spine, made your thoughts feel hazy and slow, like treacle in your mind, and your nerves tingled. So, why had he never made a move to make it anything more? You’d given him a dozen chances, a dozen more opportunities…

“I don’t know what I’m going to do without you this holiday.” He broke your train of thought, eyes opening again to peer up at you, and his lips became a frown as he thought about it. “My father is going to pile on the pressure not that I’m in my graduating year. I can already feel the headache forming right between my eyes.”

“Oh..” You coo, hand slipping down from his hair to rub your thumb over his forehead, the space you know him to get stress headaches the worst, when he works too hard or gets wound up. He just chuckled, eyes sliding shut once again. 

The song changed, and his body tensed underneath you for just a second, before his eyes snapped open, gaze locked on you. “This is my favourite song.”

“Is it?” You mumble, finger still tracing lightly over his skin, and he nods.

“I didn’t think Mattheo put it on the playlist. I asked him, and he very emphatically said no.” 

“Maybe he changed his mind.” Your shrug doesn’t convince him, not as you both hear Mattheo question the song with a stream of curses somewhere in the distance. His lips twitched at the edges, a small smile, but he said nothing else. Instead, he leaned in, your arm going around his shoulders, rubbing softly as his head nestled onto your shoulder, a sigh on his lips. 

It was perfect, just like this. If he could just open his eyes and see, he’d know how wonderful it could be. Nobody knew him like you did, he’d made sure to keep his secrets locked up tight. But over the months of exchanging letters, and candle-lit nights in the library, he’d bore so much of his soul to you. 

Deep, wounded parts, that you’d tried to put back together. 

Soft, tender parts that he protected so valiantly, but trusted you with. 

Sweet, loving parts, that never saw the light of day, unless you were together.

It was impossible, surely, that he didn’t know. He might keep his feelings locked up tight, but you didn��t hide yours very well at all. As you sat here now, fingers weaving through his hair, lips tracing his temple as you whispered nonsense to him about your day, his head on your shoulder, that he didn’t know. Even a man like Tom Riddle couldn't miss it, right?

You just wanted to make him happy, but he didn’t feel the same. 

With a heart-aching sigh, you ran your fingers through his curls one more time. Unrequited love wasn’t going to ruin your night. Unrequited love wasn’t going to ruin your Christmas. You would not be one of those girls who gave in to their feelings, and crumbled at the feet of a man who didn’t return her affections. 

Sitting up some more, he grumbled at the disruption, blinking his eyes back open as he lifted his head again. “I’m… I’m going to go dance, and play some games, okay?”

“Alright,” He smiled, patting your thigh and lifting his drink away. “Have fun. I’ll probably leave soon. If I don’t see you again, just know I’ll be thinking of you over these holidays. We’ll write again.”

His words send a rush of heat to your cheeks, a tumble of nerves through your stomach, and you could only nod. One more chance, one more chance to make a move…

“Merry Christmas, Tommy,” you whisper, leaning in to kiss his cheek. A kiss that was purposefully close to the edge of his mouth, a kiss that purposefully lingered just a second too long as you pulled away slowly, giving him a chance to turn his head, to close the gap, to kiss you—

But he didn’t, he only smiled. “Merry Christmas, doll.”

So, you stand. You brush it off. You brush off the moment, and the feelings, and all the disappointment and heartbreak that came with it. 

But I can’t do it anymore. 

We’ve been housemates for seven years, we’ve been friends for half of those, and I’ve been in love with you for months. 

But you don’t love me. Mattheo says you do, says you’re just stupid when it comes to feelings. But, even you couldn't miss how I feel about you.

So, I’m letting you go. 

New Year, New Me, New Heart.

“No, your dorm is that way.” You giggle, Mattheo’s arm over your shoulder, pushing him in the direction of the boy’s dorms and pointing. “My dorm is this way!”

“No, you’re wrong!” He mutters, shaking his head dramatically. “Boys to the left,” He says, pointing right, “Girls to the right, because girls are always right!”

“Well, I won’t argue with you there.” You grin, spinning him around. “Wait, now I’m confused. Who’s dorm were we going to again?”

A few too many shots, a few more drinks than your limit at the beer-pong table, and as the last of the party was dying down, you and Mattheo were attempting to stumble back to your dorms. “Theo’s.”

“Right. But why are we going to Theo’s dorm?”

“Because he’s my friend,” Mattheo said. “And also, his bed is next to mine.” Another fit of laughter, drunken giggles melting away, and the two of you collapsed down against the wall, heads tipped back to the stone as amusement took over. When you finally caught your breaths once again, he was smiling, eyes sparkling in that unique Matty-way. Kicking his legs out before himself, he sighed. “Maybe I will just sleep here.”

“You can’t sleep here.”

“Why?” He pouted, and you searched through your foggy mind for a reason. 

“Because you have to sleep in a bed.” Is what you settled on, shrugging your shoulders, even if you were getting a little bit too comfy against the stone too. 

“Can I sleep in your bed?” He wiggled his brows, smirking, before burping, and you giggled again. 

“No, you may not.”

“Why?” He whined, kicking one leg like a toddler in a tantrum. “You have fluffy pillows.”

“And you have sheets that haven’t been washed in months.” Your nose screwed up, and he let out a dramatic, wounded sound, like a soldier who had just been shot in a war movie. 

“That was cold.” He muttered, shaking his head. “Not as cold as the frozen Earth Tom would bury my wee little body in if I spent the night at your dorm.”

You didn’t respond, the mention of his name was like a bucket of ice over your head. Not exactly sobering, but shocking. 

“I’m saying he would murder me.”

“Yes, I understood.”

“You didn’t laugh.” He pouted, and you chuckled for his benefit. “No, it’s not real. Now I feel like I begged for it.”

“You did.”

“You suck.”

“You swallow.” You sighed, and he groaned once again, another argument lost. His head rolled to your shoulder, his body slumping into relaxation. 

“So… what is the deal with you and my brother?” His lips twisted as he thought about it, but he looked up at you curiously, frown only deepening at the sad look on your face. 

“There is no deal.” You shrug, “He doesn’t want me like that. We’re just friends.”

“Yeah,” He snorts, “And the sky isn’t blue.”

“I’m serious, Matty. I’ve given him a hundred chances. He could’ve made a move anytime. I haven’t exactly kept my feelings to myself, all you fools can see my heart dripping and bleeding on my sleeve. He knows, he just didn’t want to acknowledge it.” Your lungs burned for air at the end of your speech, and you took a deep breath, staring ahead at the chipping bricks in an attempt to avoid tears. “Why doesn’t he want me, Matty?”

“He does,” Mattheo mumbled, taking your hand in his and squeezing. “He’s just a fucking moron. But, he’s also scared. You know, you’re pretty much all he talks about? And, I never saw him smile so much as he did during the summer, when he’d receive your letters. He’d get all anxious and fidgety every day, waiting for the mail owl to arrive. He’s never going to make the first move. He’d rather suffer for all his life but have you like this, than risk losing you entirely.”

The words felt like a warming blanket and an ice-cold lake. Comforting and terrifying, sweet and burning, all at the same time. 

Mattheo huffed a laugh, “Maybe you should write him a love letter.”

“Maybe I should…” You whisper, drunken thoughts taking over, and his head snapped up. 

“I was joking.”

“I’m not. That’s a good idea. I should write him a letter, and tell him that I’m moving on.” You brushed your legs off as you stood, taking his hands and pulling him to his feet, determined.

“Okay, that’s not what a love letter is. That’s so far from what I said—”

“Let’s go!” You grabbed his wrist, tugging him along behind you as you made your way through the halls. 

“Now? Why are we doing it now? We should be sleeping now!” His protests fell on deaf ears as you dragged him along. Throwing open the door to your room, Daphne was already asleep, still in her party dress, face down on her pillow, out cold from the night’s festivities and snoring.

Mattheo collapsed onto your bed, rolling onto his side and clutching a fluffy cushion to his chest as he curled into a ball. 

“I’ll just wait here, then.” He yawned through his words, but you were too busy to care, scrambling for a pot of ink and some new parchment. Taking a seat at your desk, you stared at the paper, quill hovering, ready to write.

So, I will spend the end of this year away from you. You say we’ll write, but I don’t want to. 

Only write to me, Tom, if you feel the same.  If not, don’t. Let me heal, and when we come back in the New Year, I promise, nothing will change except for my heart. 

We will still be friends, best friends, and we’ll never talk about it again.

I will wait for you.

Finishing the letter, you sighed at it, the ink drying and immortalising your words onto the page. Sitting before you was the sum total of what sat in your heart, and your mind. Laid out and ready to go, your hands trembled a little as you read it over, and over, to be sure. 

But you had to do this, you had to give this letter to him, to alleviate the strain on your heart, to finally have some closure. Whether he felt the same or not, you’d have relief. Folding it carefully, you searched a strip of wax seal lighting the end and waiting for it to get hot, drips of Slytherin green filling into a pool that overlapped the edge of your paper. When there was enough, you stamped it carefully, sealing it shut as the wax cooled. 

Taking a look behind you, you caught sight of a sleeping Mattheo, his jaw hanging open, drooling onto your favourite throw pillow, half tucked under your blankets from where he’s only bothered to cover his legs. Peeling away the wax seal, you walked over to him, shaking his shoulder, until he awoke with a huff and a groan, whining as he sat up. 

“I was dreaming.”

“I wrote the letter.” You show him the proof, and he rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands, glancing from it, to you, and back. “You have to give it to him.”

“Now?”

“No! Not now. Tomorrow. After we get off the train.” He blinked a little more, waking up from his power nap and taking the paper from you. Flipping it over in his hands, he inspected Tom’s name across the front, no address, and raised his brows. 

“Why don’t you mail it?”

“That’ll take days, and I don’t want to leave it up to chance. I need you to give it to him, tomorrow. I know you’ll be swamped with everything your father expects of you both this time of year, events and frivolities and all, but you have to. I don’t want it getting lost amongst other letters and Christmas cards, and such.” Your hands clasped together before you, blinking at him pleadingly, and hoping your puppy-dog eyes were half as good as his.

He sighed, rolling his eyes and muttering to himself as he stood.

“Please, Matty.”

“Fine. I’ll give it to him.” He caved, and you threw your arms around him, hugging him tightly. 

“Tomorrow? After you get off the train?”

“Yes. I will give Tom the letter… tomorrow.”

Yours,

If you want me, 

(y/n) x

Tom double-checked his bags, sighing as he zipped up the piece of luggage he’d actually have access to on the train, everything he needed to survive a six-hour train journey. A knock sounded from the door, a signature one that only Mattheo ever used, excessively long and irritating, and the door swung open a second later to reveal his brother. 

Placing his carry-on down on the bed beside his own, Mattheo slumped out on his freshly-stripped bed. “You took your bags to the carriage already?”

“I got up early.”

“Surprising, I thought I’d have to drag you out of your bed this morning considering how much you drank last night.” He gave his brother a look, a single brow raised, and Mattheo just huffed. 

“It’s called having fun, you should try it sometime.”

Tom only rolled his eyes, gaze scanning across the bag Mattheo had abandoned, snagging on the letter sticking out of one pocket. T— was all that was visible. It might have been a card, that someone had addressed it to ‘Theo’ instead of Mattheo, but everyone called him ‘Matt’ if they wanted a nickname, to avoid confusion with Nott.

Curiosity ate at him, and nudging the bag subtly revealed just enough more to show an ‘O’. 

Definitely Tom, then. Mattheo was carrying a letter for him, and had not delivered it. Before he could pluck it from the pocket, his brother was sitting up, reaching for his bag and getting to his feet, swinging the letter out of his reach inadvertently. 

“Ready to go?”

“Is that letter for me?” Tom burst instead, making another move for the bag. His suspicions were only confirmed when Mattheo shifted his body, pulling the arm carrying the bag away from him, behind his body and out of Tom’s reach. “Why do you have it? When did it arrive?”

Mattheo turned casually, looking down at it, patting it and pushing it back into the bag, deeper. Tom recognised that handwriting now, though, and the urgency swelled. “Uh… last night, I think. But I was a little drunk, so…”

“Why didn’t you give it to me?” Tom pressed, biting his tongue from yelling at his brother, and Mattheo just shrugged. 

“Figured I’d give it to you on the train, or something. Or when we got home. It’s just a letter.”

“Yeah…” Tom could only hum in response, his mind spinning a little. Everyone had exchanged gifts and goodbyes last night, before the party. For exactly this reason, to avoid the morning rush to the train, to avoid the hassle in the morning. “But— I saw her last night. Why wouldn't she just give it to me then? Or mail it to me?” 

The questions were ceaseless, almost making Tom dizzy as he tried to think them through, and Mattheo could only shrug, biting the inside of his cheek to keep his smile to himself. 

“I don’t know, Tom. She just came to me, and asked me to give you that letter because she didn’t want it to get lost amongst other letters, or take too long, or something like that.” It was a small lie, really, fabricated from aspects of the truth.

“So, it’s important, then! It’s obviously important if she couldn't risk it getting lost, if it had to be hand-delivered! I should read it.” Just like that, Tom stepped right into Mattheo’s trap. Now all he had to do was pull the pin, and let the steel jaws snap shut. Yes, it could potentially backfire hugely, but Mattheo was looking on the positive side for this. 

“We have to go, Tom. Everyone else has probably already left for the train.” Mattheo swung his bag again, making his point, and kicked Tom’s suitcase from where it sat beside the door towards him to pick up. “Let’s go.”

Tom sighed, grabbing his bags and taking a few steps after him, and didn’t even make it over the threshold of the door before he gave in. His bags dropped from his hands, and planted on his hips instead. “I’m going to read it.”

“Tom—”

“Give me the letter.” He held out his pal, and Mattheo tipped his head to the side, but pressed his lips together to hide a grin. “I’ll catch up, you go. I’ll read it and I’ll catch up, it’s only a letter, can’t take that long.”

He lunged for Mattheo's bag, snatching the crisply pressed paper from the pocket before his brother could stop him. As he turned away, he missed Mattheo’s victorious smile. “Alright, I’ll take your trunk down. Don’t be long, or you’ll miss the train.” And you’ll miss her, were Mattheo’s unspoken words, as he grabbed Tom’s suitcase and disappeared, leaving him alone. 

Sitting on the edge of his bed, Tom’s hand shook a little. The paper felt like it weighed a thousand tons. There was so much unspoken mystery behind it that Tom was sure whatever this letter said, it was not their usual correspondence. Not the chatty, friendly, borderline flirty letters they’d send each other when apart, this was more. 

Sliding his thumb neatly under the wax seal he was so familiar with, Tom popped open the letter, unfolding it carefully and flipping it around to read. 

His gaze scanned over the paper, lips flicking up at the use of the nickname he only allowed you to use, the swirl of your handwriting that he loved so much. The smile didn’t last long, however, and neither did the breath in his lungs as his chest seized. He read it.

Over and over again, he read the letter. 

The minutes melted past as he absorbed what it said, until he could read the letter word for word without looking at it, tattooed into his mind now like a brand. With trembling fingers, he folded the letter back up carefully, lifting the paper to his lips as his eyes slid shut. 

His heart was pounding, more so than he’d ever felt. Tom was not one for rash decisions and sudden jumps, everything was calculated and thought through and planned. But this, this was you. This is just what you did, forced him to let go of routine and be spontaneous, forced him to be carefree, to loosen the grip he had on the reigns, to show him he wouldn't fall apart at the slightest breeze. 

He smiled against the letter, thoughts of you flicking through his mind. 

And then a clock chimed, and he jumped violently within as he was rushed back to reality in a split second. The clock in the common room chimed loudly, echoing through the empty dorms and halls. 

Rushing to his feet, Tom opened his bag, tucking the letter safely inside one of his books to preserve it, to tuck it inside the box of letters from you that was tucked under his bed at home. You doubted him, his feelings, unsure he’d kept that first letter, when in reality, he’d kept every single one.

Every letter, every note, even the silly little joke you scribbled on torn-off pieces of paper and threw at him in class, he kept them all.

Zipping his bag back up and grabbing it, he had no time to spare, racing to the chimes of the clock through the castle, to the front gates where the final carriage was leaving. 

It felt too long. Too long as the horses plodded through the snow, too long as the wheel scrolled slowly, and his foot tapped agitatedly on the floor in a way he never allowed himself to do. His thumbnail was between his teeth, flicking between the frost-covered ground and his bag, wondering if it would actually be faster to run there himself. 

Ahead, the train sounded its horn. The final warning for all students to begin boarding and settling in, because they’d be departing soon. 

You watched as the trunks were beginning loaded onto the train, all to be collected when you arrived in London, only letting out a breath of relief as Mattheo rounded the corner, finally joining your group. 

“Matty! About time, we were worried you’d miss the train.” Your arms wrapped around his shoulders as he sighed, a little out of breath, and hugged you back once he dropped the two bags in his hands. Nobody followed him, and your brows furrowed, pulling back, “Where’s Tom?”

“He’s probably already on the train, sulking somewhere. He’s never late.” Theo snickered, and you rolled your eyes, smacking him across the shoulder for his joke. 

“Blaise is inside holding a cabin for us, is Tom not sitting with us?” Enzo questioned, and you turned to Mattheo, waiting for answers. 

“He’ll be here, trust me.”

“He’s late?” Draco asked, quickly followed by Enzo and Theo, all discussing it. Regulus stayed quiet, smoking and trying to hide it from being seen, but his expression was just as concerned as everyone else’s. 

The chatter continued on, by your worry didn’t cease, checking up and down the platform as people bustled and crowded it. Saying their final goodbyes and giving out hugs, climbing on and off the train as they all wished one another Merry Christmas, and being unable to see either end was causing your anxiety to rocket higher. 

The train horn blared again, and students began to board. “Mattheo, seriously, where is he—” Just like that, you saw him, the busy platform parting to let him through, the look on his face as terrifying as ever, and people moved out of his way as he made his way towards your group. 

“Told you he’d be here,” Mattheo smirked, and you raised a brow. 

“The hell did you say to him this morning, Matt?” Regulus questions. 

“He looks mad,” Draco murmured. 

“He looks like he’s plotting.” Enzo corrected.

Every step closer rose the tension as Tom finally looked up, his sights setting on you, and his jaw clenched. Brows drawn in, he did look like he was plotting, like a thousand thoughts were racing through his mind that he couldn't sort through. 

“Hey, man. We thought you were gonna’ miss the—” Draco’s words cut off at your squeak, as Tom stepped closer, never stopping the movements of his body until he was cupping your cheeks, his mouth descending upon your own. 

You were almost knocked backwards from the force of it, your hands gripping at his shoulders as he bent you over backwards, a kiss so intense your knees almost went weak. 

It was desperate, you could barely keep up, kissing back as best you could through your shock, until it wore off enough to reciprocate. Wrapping one arm around his neck, your other slipped to his face, his own hands making their way down, to band around your waist and pull you in closer, until your bodies were flush. 

His tongue licked into your mouth, a sigh escaping you as he did, and your heart pounded against your heart, the same way he was doing, felt through his jumper and layers. The boys were whistling, cheering and hooting, and if you weren’t so happy you’d have been embarrassed by the show they were making, and the attention they were no doubt drawing. 

When he finally pulled back, you panted softly, his forehead resting on your own, blinking his eyes open to meet your gaze. 

“Can I write to you regardless?” He mumbled, voice rough and tense with emotion, and your brows furrowed. 

“Wh— What?” 

He leaned in, not helping you clear your dazed mind at all as he kissed you again, and again, until you were smiling, fingers clenched so tight in his coat that your knuckles were white, just to stay upright. 

You pecked his lips once more, chasing him as he pulled back, and the train horn sounded, a final warning, but you didn’t care. “You know how I feel now. You don’t have to wait for my reply. You can be assured that I will miss you dearly over these two weeks, and I am already counting the minutes until I see you again. But can I write to you, still?”

As the realisation set in, your face flamed, jaw dropping a little bit, and he wasted no opportunity, kissing you softly. “You read my letter.”

He only nodded, a gentle chuckle onto your mouth as your lips brushed. “You’d leave it to Mattheo to deliver? He’d probably lose it at a McDonalds, trying to get a Big Mac before my father saw him, on the way home. 

Your laughter was sweet, a puffed-out sound as his hands smoothed up and down your back. “I’d love to get more letters from you, Tommy. I’m sorry I didn’t give it to you in person, but I was scared. I thought I’d made my feelings for you obvious, and you didn’t reciprocate, so I had to write that letter. To get it out, to finalise it all.”

“I like to consider myself a smart man, you know. When it comes to you, clearly, I’m a fool. You leave me speechless, and without proper thoughts, every time. All I can think about is how pretty you are, and how much I like you, despite my best efforts not to.” 

The declaration was so utterly Tom, to hate being in love even if he loved it. 

“For Salazar’s sake, what have you done, Matt?” Theo cussed, and you twisted your head to look at him. “Shakespeare over here is going to be writing sonnets for the rest of the year. None of us will stand a chance with any other girls when he’s showing us up, standing under windows, yelling his love to the moon.”

You rolled your eyes, ignoring their nonsense. Tom did the same, nuzzling his nose against your cheek, and leaving a kiss there.

“I’ll look forward to your letters, just as I did in the summer.” You whisper, pulling away from him as the platform clears, most students already aboard now.

“And after?” Tom questions, “May I still write you letters if I, too, find myself struggling to confess my feelings in person?”

“Oh, God,” Enzo muttered. “He’s going to be writing love letters all year. He’s making the rest of us sound like cavemen. Me, you, bed, now.” He grunted, smacking a fist in his chest. You giggled as Tom rolled his eyes. 

“We should get on the train.” You whisper, taking pity on the others and untangling yourself from his arms. 

Tom took his bag again, and your own. With a final kiss on your cheek, he walked away to the door of the carriage, letting the rest of you follow behind. Mattheo fell into step beside you, smirking as he bumped your hips with his own.

“So, should I tell my mother and father that they have a new daughter-in-law this holiday, or wait ‘til the next.”

His teasing made you blush again, cheeks already red in the cold, warming you under all those layers. “You’re a filthy traitor. You gave him my letter early.”

“I said I’d give it to him ‘tomorrow’. Never agreed to the after the train part.” He tutted, proud of himself. “Always pay attention to the words of a contract. My dear brother taught me that. You never have to break a promise, if you’re smart with your words.”

That sounded exactly like something your man would say, your eyes rolling to the Heavens. 

Mattheo leaned in, voice dropping to a whisper as the pair of you climbed the steps. “You never have to break your heart either, if you’re smart about who you give it to.”

[serpentshadows]

@ tom riddle

I can’t fix him but I could fuck him.

[sriracharocks]

Tom Riddle as an Academic Rival - Headcanons

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

"You believe you can surpass me. How adorable."

Smirks at you whenever he notices your nose buried in a book in the Great Hall because he has already finished preparing for the exam

He finished it like a MONTH ago

He knows you're wayyyyyy behind and struggling to keep up with him because his pace of studying is not normal

"I'm Tom Riddle, darling. You can't dethrone me even in your wildest dreams."

Is completely calm on D Day while you freak out with frizzed up hair and crinkled robes because you ran out of time to look after yourself in the morning

Can't really blame you; you were busy revising your notes after all

Absolutely slays in his exam

Come on, you knew he would; you saw how he took so many supplements to write his answers in his elegant cursive

That completely freaked you out because even though you were far from an average student, you didn't write as much as he did

Manages to finish early even after writing so much, while you submit your parchment on the dot

Smirks at his report card, satisfied that he got an O

Looks over at yours and his smirk grows so big, you want to slap it off his face

"An E... Not bad, but not an O after all. Better luck next time."

And when you do get an O, you manage to impress him

"Oh, so you decided to utilise your brain cells instead of letting them rot. Good."

Says that with a poker face but is internally screaming

"How the hell did this girl get an O?"

Is surprisingly relieved when you get an E on the next exam

"I'm the one on top. Always was, always will be. One or two Os don't scare me."

[grandeoatmilklatte]

Hi hello it me ur em ✨

I’m here to defile your inbox with a request for some Tom, specifically a Tom who has a cute little FWB that supports his entire schtick… to the point where she wants to hand all control to him while they’re together to prove her loyalty. Of course this gets him right randy, so he practices the Imperius curse on her.

But oh no! What is this! halfway through he’s like “okay this is cool and all, but she’s not moaning or otherwise showing pleasure on her end?”

Cut to Tom breaking the fourth wall or some shit when he realizes that a lot of his pleasure comes from HERS. Cue the angsty moment of him becoming extremely conflicted with his feelings and having to decide how to proceed—keeping the Imperius curse active to exercise and cement his control on her, or drop it entirely in a moment of weakness to relinquish her pleasure?

*scuttles back to swamp your DMs with pictures of Christian Coulson*

😈

Your wish is my command my sweet angel face! I made you a long one so I hope you enjoy! ❤️ @marketfreshfics

Under Control - Tom Riddle x F!Reader 🐍

Warnings: NSFW || CNC via the imperius curse || p in v || oral male receiving || object insertion || finger stuff || all characters are aged up 18+ in 7th year || 2,225 words

The astronomy tower was dark and silent, not a soul roamed the desolate hallway this late at night. It was a strong contrast compared to what was going on just behind a seemingly normal wall within the tower. A wall with a disappearing door that led into an expansive space - The Room of Requirement.

Tom lay on the large bed that had been transfigured into the room, a beautiful girl pinned underneath him, their tongues in a desperate fight for dominance. Amongst Tom’s group of friends, which he considered followers more than anything, this was his girlfriend. Tom refused to put that label on her, however; despite his constant need to have her around, and how protective he was of her. She was just a friend; another loyal follower who provided him with certain benefits he couldn’t obtain from the others. That’s all she was to him, or at least that’s what he constantly told himself.

Tom pulled his lips from hers, sitting up to look at her. “Tonight’s meeting went exceptionally well. Everyday my band of followers grows stronger. Everyday we get closer to fulfilling my ultimate mission.”

She smiled at him, her tone playful as she spoke. “Well of course it does, darling. Who wouldn’t want to follow you? You have an incredibly loyal band of supporters here…but don’t you forget, I’m the most loyal of them all!”

Tom chuckled. “Are you now?” It was a hypothetical question. He knew the strength of her loyalty. He just enjoyed playing with her. “Prove it. Show me how loyal you are, show me how much you trust me.”

Her eyes lit up with excitement as she pondered a way she could show her loyalty. “I have an idea! Why don’t you blindfold me and tie me to the bedpost? You can do whatever you want to me, and I can’t resist. You’ll have full control of me.”

The suggestion made Tom’s cock throb from within the confines of his pants. But as he considered it, another, more sinister suggestion popped into his head. “Full control, huh? I know a better way you can give me full control.”

He stood, turning and walking a short distance to a small table that his wand sat atop. He fiddled with it, smiling to himself before turning back to her, finding her standing as well.

“Being that you’re such a loyal supporter of me and my mission, you’d know that I’ve been practicing my Unforgivable curses. But there’s one I haven’t had quite enough practice with yet - the Imperius curse. Maybe now would be a good time for practice, wouldn’t you agree?”

“You want to…use Imperio on me…in bed?” Her eyes seemed to light up even more now, a wicked smile spreading across her face. “Well, that’s definitely a better idea than mine. Let’s do it!”

Tom smiled. “You’re always such a good girl for me. But there’s one condition - you can’t ask me what I’ve done to you once the curse is lifted. Your loyalty means you trust me entirely, no questions asked. Do we have a deal?”

She was a little disappointed she’d never know what sick and twisted things he’d do to her in that state, but she nonetheless agreed. Eager to give the boy she loved full reign over her body. The thought of being in a trance while he completely ravished her, sent shivers through her body, wetness already forming between her legs. Once they both confirmed that they were ready, Tom raised his wand and cast the spell. In an instant, he watched her excited expression turn neutral, a green haze forming over her eyes.

She had been successfully put under the Imperius curse.

Another chuckle left Tom’s lips. She had always been loyal to him, but this was taking their relationship to a new level. The ultimate test of her loyalty was underway, and so far, she was getting a perfect score.

“Strip.” Tom commanded. Without a second of hesitation, she obeyed, removing each article of clothing one by one until she was bare in front of him. “Lay on the bed.” was the next command, which she again obeyed.

Tom removed his own clothes as he approached. He straddled her, bringing his wand up to her neck and slowly running its tip down her body. He teased her nipples and watched them harden before running it down her stomach, stopping when he reached the lower half. As he did this, he’d periodically look up at her, noting her still neutral expression and soft steady breathing. He climbed off the bed, sinking to his knees in front of it. He brought his arms up, grabbing her by the thighs so he could pull her down until her legs were dangling off. He positioned himself between her legs, bringing two fingers forward and running them up and down the length of her wet cunt.

“Such a dirty whore. You’re not even conscious and you’re dripping wet for me.” Tom pushed his two fingers inside briefly before pulling them out, sucking them clean and replacing them with the tip of his wand. He pushed it in several inches, anticipating some kind of reaction from her as the tip touched her cervix. But there was none. He looked up, her face still as neutral as it was moments ago. He began to roughly pump his wand in and out of her, pushing it as far deep as her body would allow. And while he himself was enjoying the act, drunk on the image of his wand deep within her body, he didn’t find himself enjoying it as much as he thought he would. Something was missing, and while he couldn’t identify what, the feeling annoyed him.

Reluctantly, he pulled the slick soaked wand out of her, placing it on the bed. He stood and walked backwards, putting space between himself and the bed. “Get on your knees in front of me”.

When she had assumed her position, he held her chin in one hand, pulling it down to open her mouth as he used his other hand to guide himself in. Both of his hands then wrapped around her hair as he began to thrust in and out of her mouth. This was a lot more enjoyable for him, Tom groaning with each thrust. But it still wasn’t enough. The way she’d look up at him with teary eyes, muffled, desperate whimpers falling from her mouth, the occasional gags from her when he was a little too rough - all of it was missing. He was hard, but nowhere near close to release. Tom paused his movements, pulling her hair so that she was forced to look up at him, her hazy eyes locking with his.

“Suck.”

She obeyed, her head beginning to slowly move as she took him in and out of her mouth.

“Moan.”

Soft muffled moans fell from her as she continued, picking up her pace after another command to do so. Tom breathed a sigh of relief, hoping that this was the simple solution to his decrease in enjoyment. His hopes would not come to fruition, however, as Tom was left still no closer to orgasm. He couldn’t understand. She was moaning, she was sucking, why wasn’t it affecting him the way it normally did?

“Stop. Get back on the bed.”

Tom remained standing as she resumed her previous position. He tried to grapple with what was happening. He surely thought fucking her with his wand, an object he held to such high value, would have excited him almost to the point of climax, but it didn’t. Fucking her mouth, an act that usually did him in had almost no affect on him. The only thing that was different tonight was her being under the Imperius curse - a concept which alone excited him, but in execution, it was turning out to be a failure.

“Why?” he asked himself. It only took a moment of wondering for him to find a reason, one he hated. “She’s not getting any pleasure out of this. She’s not conscious enough to get any pleasure. But why does that matter? I don’t care if she’s satisfied! She’s moaning, who cares if it’s forced and not from enjoyment? I don’t need her enjoyment to find my own!”

With a huff, Tom marched up to the bed, grabbing her waist and flipping her on to her stomach. He manhandled her ragdoll body until she was on all fours, her ass facing him. Tom then joined her on the bed, one hand gripping her hip as he slid into her from behind.

Grunts filled the room as he aggressively fucked his frustrations into her. His hand still gripping her hip as his other hand gripped her hair, pulling it towards him so that her back was arched. He was getting fed up. His cock ached from how long he had been edged with no relief yet and none in sight either. She should have been moaning his name, screaming for him to keep going and to not stop. By now, she would have been climaxing around his cock, giving him the final push he needed to climax himself. But she remained silent and unenthusiastic.

Tom was reaching his breaking point, but as he continued to thrust into an almost lifeless body, his wand still on the bed, he couldn’t bring himself to lift the curse. Her loyalty was clear, he knew this even before tonight, but he liked the control. Tom was a man who needed to be in control of every aspect of his life. Of the three Unforgivables, the Imperius curse always felt the most intriguing, as it guaranteed him the control he so desperately sought. But tonight, the curse had betrayed him. It was leaving him with a realization he didn’t want to accept. Every time they were intimate, he needed her pleasure and her enjoyment in order to find his own. He couldn’t finish until she had first.

Tom always thought he was the one in control of their relationship, but right now, she was the one in control, preventing him from getting what he wanted, what he needed, and she didn’t even know it. She had power over him, and that didn’t sit right with Tom. So Tom continued to fight a battle he was ultimately going to lose.

Tom growled in frustration as he pulled out of her, violently grabbing her and flipping her over so she was now on her back. He got right back to work, sliding into her with ease and continuing to fuck her as he brought a hand to her face. He stroked her cheek and looked into her hazy eyes as he spoke, voice heavy with desperation.

“Sweetheart, you’re driving me mad! Please! I need to cum! Moan for me, cum for me. I fucking need it! I need you!”

Tom let out another growl as he grabbed his wand, practically screaming the spell needed to lift the curse. His pace didn’t let up as he watched the green haze leave her eyes, a moan of his name escaping her as she regained consciousness. Tom felt a weight leave his shoulders as the moan reached his ears.

She took no time in getting adjusted to consciousness, her legs immediately wrapping around Tom’s body, pulling him closer. Tom savored the missed feeling, singing praises of “good girl” and “that’s my girl” in her ears as she continued to moan.

Within minutes, she reached her orgasm, whimpering and clenching around him. Tom found his much needed release immediately after, releasing into her with a loud groan.

---

“So, how was it? Did you have fun with me?”

He lay next to her, staring up at the ceiling refusing to look at her. Tom always believed that his pleasure mattered alone. But not only did hers matter, it was needed for Tom to obtain his own. He wondered how he could have allowed himself to become so weak that a girl could have so much power over his body. The control Tom thought he had over her was no more than an illusion. She was the one with the control.

“Now dear, you promise you weren’t going to ask me about it. I thought you trusted me? Now you’re questioning me?” He shot back, annoyance clear in his tone, eager for her to drop the topic.

“Nonono I…I do trust you! I was just curious! I’m sorry!”

He considered breaking their relationship off, ending her with the killing curse right there. A fair punishment for her crimes. But as Tom turned towards her, staring into her eyes, he couldn’t help but remember how good it felt to finally hear her, to feel her after the struggles of the evening. His expression softened.

“It’s fine. All I’ll say is you were a very good girl tonight.” He leaned in, closing the gap between them with a peck on the lips. “Now, get some rest.”

Tom’s anger with himself was beginning to recede as he watched her fall asleep. He felt a flutter in his chest as he grappled with the foreign feeling that was festering within him. Tonight, she had offered to relinquish control to Tom, but in reality it was Tom who had relinquished his control.

And deep down he loved it.

[westcanaan82]

🍂 Spending time enjoying the changing of the season with the boys this week has been as refreshing as the autumn air 🍁

Thank you @iclingtolife for making this week a walk in the park and bringing the rest of the boys along with you.🧡

NOTE:: There will be a change for the upcoming weeks posting schedule and a variation from our typical themed weeks with the Slytherin Boys. Our bonus boys take the spotlight this coming week as we focus on our favorite Hogwarts Legacy trio, so keep your eyes peeled for Sebastian, Ominis and Garreth to make their appearances.