#dark!tom riddle

[mrsdarkandyandere7]

🟌 Tom Riddle being the type to force you to write “Tom Riddle’s Property”

Female reader

WARNINGS: Minor Blood and Body Engraving.

-

You'll write over and over again with a cursed quill - much like Umbridge made Harry do - until the words are deeply engraved into your belly’s soft sensitive skin, the red blood shining on the fresh wound, marking you as permanently his. 

He coldly ignores your cries and whimpers of pain, focused on completing a Potions assignment while he makes you write the painful words.

He doesn���t relish from your pain, but it’s an effective method to remind you of your place, which is beneath him. From the moment he laid eyes on you, you no longer belonged to yourself but yes to him. 

Tom wishes to erase the concepts of autonomy and independence from your vocabulary, those are silly words for you to be using. He is the one who controls you, dictating your every action and thought, so it’s only fair that the reminder of such power is portrait in your body. 

No one will be allowed to see the extent of your nude body, except him but it’s a subtle reminder - to you - that you are indeed his property. 

Something that one day will be even more evident when he puts his heir inside you and your stomach will grow, the skin and the words stretching on top of his unborn child - another evidence of his power and ownership over you. 

[prettybabybaby]

Dark ideas for riddle brothers !! Mattheo x reader x Tom - noncon

You are a gryffindor and you piss both of them off . When they get to know that you are the one who pisses both of them off they make a plan to fuck you so hard that you know your place .

reader’s house is not mentioned

rating: ¡ 18+ only ! ¡ minors do not interact !

content: noncon

your intelligence puts even tom riddle to shame and you know it. you walk around with an air of superiority that rivals his own. your charm exceeds what his carefully curated persona could never quite reach. the picture perfect girl who would undoubtedly have everyone at her feet but still just out of reach.

mattheo was one of them. despite how much he tried to hide it, his fascination was clear. tom found the situation ridiculous, even telling his brother as much. but mattheo hadn’t listened. he never does.

you rejected him coldly, not even pretending to feel remorseful about it. mattheo’s pride had been hurt and he had hated you ever since. suddenly tom’s cruel remarks felt justified. they felt true and real.

the idea was mattheo’s, the plan coming to mind after yet another smug stare from you as you walked by him. you were taunting him, making sure that he knew that you knew how much your rejection had affected him.

tom was disinterested at first, finding no benefit in such an act. was he willing to risk his own reputation for the brief satisfaction of your dejected face and a tight squeeze around his cock? was he really willing to risk it all for pleas for remorse and smudged makeup? humiliation of being bare and vulnerable before your two greatest enemies while they used you brutally… mercilessly…

the appeal quickly grew, the next time mattheo made the offhanded comment tom wasn’t fast to shoot it down. tom made no effort to stop mattheo from creating a plan, but, he did offer a few pointers. tom also didn’t scold mattheo for his choice in timing, one that was way past curfew. tom asked for no confirmation, he simply showed up.

mattheo was already waiting, fingers anxiously tapping his thighs as he searched for his brother. when he saw him, a smile grew on his face. mattheo’s plan wouldn’t have worked without tom’s corrections, something tom made note of as he helped mattheo carry your body away.

soon enough, tom’s eyes roamed your chest as the buttons of your blouse were open wide and your tie, that was usually worn snugly around your neck, pressed and perfect, was pulled loose. tom watched as your chest bounced with each brutal thrust of his brother’s hips, lust and loathing fueling his movements.

mattheo put in a show better than you did. groans and moans tumbling from his lips freely, loud enough to block out the sobs that left yours. tom found it dramatic and unnecessary, though, he couldn’t say he hated the noises of frustration mattheo’s mocking drew from you.

even after mattheo, you were unbelievably tight. perhaps it was the lack of want, the sensitivity as your body screamed at you to give it a break. none of that mattered to tom. the only thing on his mind was the clenching around his cock, the slippery glide along your walls as he pushed in and out.

mattheo made sure to bother you again, clearly not through with you after one measly round. rough slaps to your cheeks, pinching your cheeks together meanly, forcing you to watch as tom fucked you. you simply sobbed as you watched his cock disappear between your legs, a painful burn in your core following each movement.

[aphroditelovesu]

Dearest (Y/N),

How difficult it is for me to find the right words to express how I feel about you. From the moment our eyes met, my life changed forever. You are the light that illuminates the darkest of my days, the reason my heart beats faster every second I spend away from you. It is impossible to resist this overwhelming passion that consumes me, that takes me to extremes that I never imagined possible.

You, a muggle-born, a creature of rare beauty and genuine simplicity, have irrevocably captured my heart. I know that our reality is complex, that we live in different worlds, but I would do anything to be by your side, to protect you, to make your life sweeter and safer. I am capable of unimaginable feats when it comes to you, and it is this intense love that compels me to act.

I know there are those who wouldn't understand what we share, who would judge our love as wrong, but for me, you're the only one that matters. The whole world can fall apart as long as I can have you to myself. I would do anything, risk everything, even my own soul, to have you by my side.

I feel deeply connected to you, in a way that goes beyond wizarding understanding. I can't bear the thought of being away from you, of imagining your life with anyone other than me. The thought of your affection for others torments me, but I am willing to do anything to protect you.

Do not allow fear or uncertainty to keep you from me. This love is eternal, and nothing can separate our intertwined souls. I will always be watching, always protecting, and you will be mine, even if it's by force, because I can't bear the thought of losing you.

I look forward to the day when you understand the depth of my love, when you accept that we are meant to be together no matter what. Until then, be aware that I am always near, watching, caring, and eager for your acceptance.

With love,

Tom.

[sweetiecutie]

Pairing: yandere!Tom Riddle x gn!Reader

Synopsis: no one can take you away from Tom, not even Death itself

Warnings: yandere themes, obsessive behavior, non-sexual nudity, dark forces, mention of death and bodies, reader’s gender not specified

You felt weird. Your ears were filled with buzzing white noise, mind racing but also completely muddled up. You inhaled sharply, searing pain surged through all of your body at the feeling of your lungs expanding. It felt like your insides were set ablaze all at once. Rattling cough tore through your throat, filling your mouth with the some thick slime-like substance that you quickly spat out, gulping desperately on cold air in fast shallow breaths.

From what your overwhelmed senses could tell - you were laying down on some kind of flooring - which felt more like bare stone. You struggled to get yourself into sitting position, hard cobbles dug into your flesh painfully, causing you to shiver violently from both cold and discomfort.

You cracked your eyes open, blinking rapidly a few times to get the same sticky slimey stuff out of your eyes. It was very dark around- or was it your unstable state? Heavy steps could be heard, coming in your direction; your body tensed impossibly more, head snapping in direction of nearing man(?), hands roaming the ground underneath you, trying to find something - anything - to defend yourself with.

- Shhhhh, dearest, it’s just me. You’re safe, - a familiar voice spoke soothingly, your body relaxing at the dear sound of it.

- Tom? - you whispered, eyes flickering in all directions haphazardly, trying to distinguish male’s slim figure in thick darkness.

Tom fell to his knees next to you, muttering quiet ‘Lumos’, dim ray of light coming from the tip of his wand blinded you temporarily. You heard some soft shuffling before a thick woolen cloak was wrapped tightly around your shuddering frame.

You managed to crack your eyes open, finally being abele to look around. You peeked down at yourself - your body looked raw - as if you spent hours emerged in hot water - skin was a bringt pink color, extremely sensitive to the smallest of touches - just like an infant in first minutes of its life. You were completely bare, some weird slippery substance was covering every part of you, cooling your body down unpleasantly.

Your eyes wandered up to Tom. His face was gaunt - cheeks looked as hollow as ever; dark eyes you loved so much were unusually sunken, dark purplish circles you knew he got from sleepless nights were laying underneath them; his beautiful lips were chopped and pale, lacking their usual plushness; lush shiny waves of brown hair laying so elegantly on his forehead now looked bleak and brittle. Tom looked ill - as if he was struggling from protracted ailment. But even despite his miserable -you could’ve never thought of using this adjective for describing Tom Riddle- appearance, his eyes were sparkling maniacally, like diamonds in finest of the jewelry.

- Tom, what happened? I don’t understand… - you inquired quietly. Your throat felt way too tight, making your voice sound shaky and weak, and you struggled to get words out. You felt Tom wrapping his arms tightly around you, bringing you to his chest in a tight embrace.

- Everything’s all right now, my love. It’s okay, you are safe with me, - Tom muttered more to himself, rocking you from side to side gently.

You took a look at your surroundings - it looked like you were inside of a huge dark cave of some sorts, rough wet stones were forming walls and ceiling of the cavity, you could hear water dripping down the stalactites all around, hitting the rocks underneath with loud echoing sounds. What caught your attention were deep involute lines carved deeply into stone ground, forming an intricate designs all around you, slightest red glow was still visible emanating from them.

There were dead bodies laying all around. About a dozen of men and women, some of them you recognized as Tom’s devoted followers, were splayed around what seemed to be a transfiguration circle. There were no injuries nor blood on them visible. In fact, they looked fully normal if it wasn’t for their dull eyes and looks of absolute horror etched on their lifeless faces.

And then suddenly pictures flashed before your eyes - Tom’s face, still full of health and youthful beauty, covered in grime and blood, was gazing down at you, his eyes sparkling with shiny tears. What was that? Why was he crying? And then, like in some kind of drunken haze, you looked down at yourself - a huge crimson blotch was growing bigger and bigger on your robes, saturating soft cotton fabric in warm sticky blood. You looked back up at Tom - he was full on crying now, babbling “don’t leave me” and “please, don’t die” over and over again, trembling hands pressing down onto your chest, trying to stop the blood flow.

What was he talking about? Why would you die? You tried to say it, to console your silly boy, reassure that there’s no way you would leave him - but no sound came out of your throat, no matter how hard you tried. Your mouth filled with sickening metallic taste of your own blood, black clouding your vision rapidly.

And now you remembered. Those were your memories - your last ones - before you died.

But how was this all possible? Here you were, blood and flesh, warm and breathing and surely alive, in welcoming arms of your lover.

- Tom? What have you done?.. - horror mixed with shock slowly crept up your back, all the way to your chest and throat, making it even harder to breath than before.

- Nothing will ever hurt you again. I won’t let that happen, I promise, - Tom uttered next to your ear, his body shaking with soundless sobs as he held you even closer to himself,

- I will keep you safe, away from all dangers. You will know no worries nor fears. It will be just the two of us, in our perfect world we’ve always dreamed of. Forever.

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[your-nanas-house]

Would you be willing to do a dark NSFW Tom Riddle oneshot?

I'd really be interested in seeing super possessive, super jealous, super protective Tom. Like maybe the reader and Tom were friends with benefits, however the reader realizes they has feelings. So, they randomly distance themselves from him and secretly start seeing one of his followers until they decide to go public. He tries to manipulate her back to being with him by saying things like "he doesn't make you feel the way I make you, does he darling?" (maybe more provocative and intense) I lowkey imagine him sneaking in the readers dorm and they were preparing for an outing with whichever follower they are dating when Tom comes out of the shadows, standing behind them and he kisses down their neck which saying manipulative things. Before the reader pushes him back and says "no, I love (followers name)" even though that isn't the case. That is when the follower the reader is with, walks in and eyes Tom wearily before the reader says "(followers name), can we go? Please, I want to go." because the reader knew that they'd cave to Tom. Tom only gets more persistent, trying to be patient, but his mindset is that the reader will come crawling back to him because this isn't the first time this has happened. However, this is the longest time the reader has been away from him and it is then that he realizes that he does have feelings which frightens him. He comes to terms with having one weakness, the reader. Ultimately, he gets impatient and does things his way to get the reader back. Sorry if this is a lot!

Hello! Ofc 🥰 sorry if it took me so much, I tried to find a way to put everything you wanted in a oneshot. Dw, I loved this idea so much!!!

Just an affair (?)

◇ Pairing: Tom Riddle X fem!Reader, Abraxas Malfoy X fem!Reader

◇ Warnings: SMUT, harassment, Tom Riddle, fluff, angst and dark themes (Slytherin!Reader but can be seen as any other house if you want to 🥰)

◇ Summary: You try to move on but Tom doesn't want that.

◇ Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English.

Your gaze was blank and empty, focused on nothing in particular since you were too lost in your thoughts to be aware of your surroundings.

Too many things were going on in your head, especially since you managed to stop your little affair with your classmate, Tom Riddle, a pleasurable, lovable and rough affair that you kind of missed.

You really missed the warmth of his body, his teeth against your sensitive skin, his cold touch followed by the rough and needy kisses, his scent that invaded your senses— this awful sensation kept coming back every time you saw him behind the walls of your magic school ‘Hogwarts’.

You saw him that day too, after exiting the women’s bathroom with your friend and classmate, Walburga Black; you two were just heading back to your dorms when you nearly crashed against Tom Riddle's chest, the man that you tried to ignore and avoid since a while now.

You nearly shivered when his dark eyes met yours but you managed to hide it, nodding as a greeting as Walburga squealed an awkward 'hello, my lord" while she followed you quickly.

It was a Saturday so you didn't have any classes but since you had managed to join the Slugclub, you had to visit professor Slughorn to get an invitation to the club's fifth dinner of the year— then after that you would have been finally free to enjoy your day of rest and get ready for the date with your new boyfriend.

A hot, pale, blond, classmate of yours, belonging to the same house as you and to a rich and prestigious family in the pureblood's view.

Yes, boyfriend.

After you stopped to meet Tom Riddle in secret and decided to move on, you started to see one of his followers and fellow Slytherin— Abraxas Malfoy.

Your feet were a little tired from so much walking in your last few days and because you had started practicing walking in heels to make a good impression on the blond on your date— you had also bought, with Walburga, a new dress only for that occasion.

That's where you were heading at that moment, straight to your dorm room to fix your appearance before Abrasax could bring you to Hogsmeade for the day; you nearly rushed inside of your room, closing the door before heading to your mirror to start apply the makeup of the day— you already did that that morning but you wanted to be fresh and prettier than ever.

That's when a cold touch made your body freeze, exactly when your gaze was focused on the new dress.

It didn't take long for your makeup, you didn't overdo it usually, only the hair was your big problem— you spent minutes and minutes trying to find the most suitable hairstyle and then ended up pulling it up into a simple yet sophisticated hairstyle as you dropped the robe that covered your body.

"Little Dove, my little Dove" his voice echoed in your mind as your eyes moved slowly up to meet Tom's dark and empty gaze— he had an ironing grip on your bare hips and his soft pink lips were brushing against your skin.

Luckily you managed to put quickly the dress on to cover yourself a bit in front of Tom.

His white teeth grazed against the spot that made your knees weak and that he knew way too well

"You're playing a dangerous game, my dear— trying to get me by pretending to be interested in someone else" he growled sodtly, pressing himself against your back to make you feel his hardening cock as his hand grabbed your throat.

For the first time you were afraid but still pretty horny, like everytime you could smell his delicious masculine scent— but you needed to stop him this time; you could already feel that ticklish feeling crawling back in your lower belly, exploding in you like thousand of butterflies.

'No, not this time and not anymore' you told yourself more and more scared of the feelings that became slowly love.

You tried to move from his grip, your breath becoming heavier

"Tom, n-no— you must stop" you tried, earning just a threating growl causing his hands to hold you stiller, his hips grinding against your butt, managing that way to press his now rock-hard erection between your ass cheeks

"You know you want it too, Y/n—" Tom murmured against the shell of your ear, licking it slowly before continuing to talk, using now a more sensual and low voice the same one he always used during one of your heated and passionate sessions of sex

"Stop pretending or resisting, we both know that you will crawl back to me— as soon as you will realize how childish your behavior is right now".

His hand slowly moved from your hip to your front, stroking slowly your lower back before playing with your panties and move his pale hand inside of them to touch your wet pussy— like he wanted since the day you started to ignore him.

Usually this would lead to Tom having his long fingers buried inside your wet folds— his fingers would then be replaced by his cock which filled you up to your cervix, preventing you from thinking straight as he ruined you wherever he wanted, not this time though.

Sure enough, someone knocked on the dorm door taking you both by surprise— thus allowing you to move Tom's hand away from your panties before Abraxas couldn't see as he entered the room.

His clear gaze was fixed on you two and he started to frown slightly, since he wasn't really expecting to see Tom Riddle himself there— he couldn't ask any questions, though, or think much about why he was there as your voice stopped his thoughts

"Can we please go, Brax?— Please" you begged for a second time, taking his hand before following him quickly out of the Slytherin's common room, leaving Tom alone.

.

On the evening of the same day of your date and when Tom had finally managed to find a moment when you were all alone— right that day, the wizard found himself in his bed in his dormitory, on top of his cold sheets with his gaze fixed on the ceiling and his head full of thoughts of you.

His hand wrapped around his hard-rock cock, the thin fabric of your panties brushing against his balls every time his hand moved up and down.

As the thought of you with another man his pace got faster, he inhaled deeply from his nostrils while his jaw clenched

"F-Fucking slut" he murmured between clenched teeth as he thought about you, his back arched in a lovingly way as he approached his climax slowly.

A soft groan left his lips before he bit his bottom lip, purring your name before coming all over his hand and your dark green stolen panties.

He wanted you back, no he needed you back, you were his and only his— Noone else's.

Taglist:

@gabile18 , @mrsfullbuster500 , @rex-ray , @elizamalfoyy, @eovjjj , @wife-of-magic-monkeys , @jeremiah-va1eska , @gothamchic16, @rabbiteggz , @dieg0brandos-wife , @rottenecstasy , @lazyexcuse , @teh-vampire-bunny , @lobotomy-lover , @slasher-smasher , @sleepycreativewriter

[lushaletta]

love and its lethal consequences / tom riddle

pairing: tom riddle x fem!reader

content: muggleborn!reader, dark!tom, mild swearing, violence

summary: tom grapples between his dark desires and his unlikely affection for you. it’s deadly.

a/n: part 3 to this lil series :> pls lmk if u guys r enjoying so far!! idk how long i want this to be but we shall see where it goes

read the previous parts: one two

⋆ ࣪.  ⁺⑅ ⋰˚ *.ﾟ .˳⁺⁎˚ ˚⁎⁺˳ . ༺ ˖࣪ ˖࣪ ∗

Tom has decided. And once Tom decides something, nothing will get in his way.

You are to be his.

The murder would be the easiest part of all. Twice, now, he’s done it. First with that disgusting, grumbling Myrtle and second with his nasty father he can’t even be bothered to think about.

Third time is always the charm. He has it all figured out.

“Tommy!” you beam, following the daily routine. You slide over a treacle tart. “You liked these ones last time.”

He accepts the dessert wordlessly. He’s too deep in thought. You grin.

A few more moments of silence pass and you begin to be irritated by the lack of noise. You have to fill the air up somehow. “Have I told you about Murph yet?”

He’s almost sickened by the name itself. So much so that he can’t stomach the lovely tart your mother has made for him. You’re on a nickname basis now? “You have not.”

You haven’t told him anything about this boy, but he already knows everything. He won’t have to worry about this foul beast for much longer, so he’ll tolerate the giddiness in your eyes for now.

“We’ve just gone on a date. I think it went well, you know? He’s sweet. Opens the door for me, matches pace. That type of thing.”

Tom could do that too if that’s what you really wanted. “How wonderful,” he deadpans.

You’d be a fool not to notice the way his eye twitched when you said the word “date” or the poorly hidden sarcasm he laced in his speech.

“I think our next one is this Wednesday,” you continue.

He’s absolutely fucking repulsed. If he didn’t know any better, he’d march on over to that moron’s room and take care of it himself. But there’s a plan, procedure to be followed. And Tom is nothing if not methodical.

“I can’t believe it! The both of us have dates this week. What even are our lives now?” Camilla cheers, leaning back in her seat.

“I don’t think Tom is very happy about mine.”

She raises a brow. “That’s because Murphy isn’t pure. I’m telling you, Riddle’s lot is psychotic.”

“Okay, I’m not a fan of them either, but Tom knows I’m not pure. He’s been perfectly pleasant.”

“He hardly speaks!” she retorts.

You roll your eyes and urge her to continue reading her book. She complies. Camilla’s never been very argumentative.

As she settles in the pages, all entranced by the words, you lean back in your chair. It is a strange twist of fate that you’re now friends with Tom, but despite Camilla’s warnings, you can’t get yourself to leave. It’s a comfortable trap.

“Hello,” Tom says from behind you as you swing your feet on the railings.

You don’t skip a beat. “Hi!”

Tom knows by now that he can’t surprise you.

The echoing chambers of Hogwarts are bathed in soft moonlight, and no one else is around. Tom is usually by himself at this time. You only steal each other’s afternoons.

“You know,” you muse, breaking the comfortable quiet that settled between you. “You’re very important to me.”

Tom clears his throat. He’s never really been important to anyone. He swallows. “Likewise.”

He’s avoiding your gaze. You think it’s cute. His lips quirk into a faint smile, a rare glint of amusement dancing in his dark eyes, but it’s gone as soon as it comes.

Suddenly, you study his face, trying to unravel the mysteries hidden within. He’s more withdrawn recently. Even quieter, if that’s possible. You suppose it has something to do with Murph but you never can be too sure when it comes to him.

“You’re staring,” he says.

“I like the view.” He sighs.

Tom is not a good person. Far from it. Your friend realises it but you don’t. You’re a glimmer of hope in the darkness that threatens to consume him, that’s already consumed him. You’re both refuge from his despair and a constant reminder. He finds solace in your company and he hates it but now he has no choice. He can’t bring himself to kill you. He knows he never will and so it has to be this way.

It will hurt you, undoubtedly. It will make him more terrible than he already is.

Time is creeping up on him. You’re growing closer with that wretched Ravenclaw and the longer he waits, the more you will be affected.

“Murphy Atthill.”

He turns around at the call of his name and can’t help but feel uneasy. Tom’s presence tends to do that. “Riddle? What can I do for you?” he asks politely. He isn’t very good at masking his anxiety.

Tom casts the Killing Curse and he feels the unmistakable split of his soul as he recites haunting Latin incantations. He knows there’s no going back.

A chilling sense of finality looms over him and yet it weighs light on his conscience. All for the better, this is. In fact, it’s a twisted sense of satisfaction that he feels knowing that the deed is done. He knows he’s crossed a line with you from which there is no return,

But Murphy’s eyes lifeless are much prettier that way.

taglist for this series!! @mariamyousef702 @enidths @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @girlogies @unwrittenletter @helalokithor @lisv1n

[yichuuonvenus]

Pomegranate Seeds

Tom Riddle x Reader

~Description~

It’s your last year at Hogwarts and Tom wanted to celebrate with you…

~Warnings~

Rape/Non-consent, Dacryphilla, Ravenclaw reader, Innocent reader, Forced pregnancy

You looked at yourself in the mirror, slowly smoothing out the strays in your hair. You looked over to your friend, quietly snoozing without a care in the world. She was still knocked out cold from sneaking out to the astronomy tower. 

You sighed a bit and walked over to her bed. 

“Eva…” you called out to her. 

“Eva, we have to leave soon.” You lightly shook her a bit, giggling when she shook awake. 

“Is it time already?” She complained looking at the bright sky and then grumbling. 

“Yes! Myrtle and Arianna already left.” You smiled at her and helped her up. 

She immediately threw on her uniform and grabbed her bag. You both greeted your friends and made your way out of the common room. A few of your friends were escorting you guys down to the great hall. 

As you guys neared your table you couldn’t miss a bone-chilling tingle going up your spine. 

It was like something or perhaps someone was watching you. 

You turned and thought nothing of it to possibly meet its owner. You frowned when you didn’t meet the gaze of what you thought was watching you. 

You simply sighed and sat down, head tilting a bit to the side. 

“You okay?” Eva asked. Her lips curled into a soft frown. Her eyebrows throw you a look of concern. 

“Yeah… I I- I’m okay,” you quietly said. 

“She’s probably already thinking about her newts,” Myrtle laughed. 

You laughed too or at least tried to. 

“But really what’s wrong with you?” Arianna took your hand and squeezed it slightly. 

“Uh um… I’m just so upset that we all won’t be in Professor Slughorn’s club together,” you said signing a bit.

You didn’t like lying but you really were upset at that. That was the only thing your mother talked about growing up making sure you and your friends got in Slug Club. 

“It’s okay… how many times do we have to tell you that,” Eva iterated. 

“Yes, precisely. It wasn’t like we were going to get in anyways,” Myrtle laughed. “I’m a muggle-born, and Ari almost failed her owls.”

You joined in laughing, this time it was genuine, getting a hit from Arianna to the both of you. You still couldn’t help that twisted feeling in your stomach. The conversation lightly shifted after that. The usual small talk took place. 

“Have you all heard the rumor of Minerva?” Myrtle whispered.

“No, what happened?” Eva leaned down. Trying to whisper but doing a horrible job at it. We all gathered our heads towards the middle. 

“I’ve heard she turned into an animagus!” Myrtle announced making Arianna cover her mouth quickly. 

“Myrtle, you can’t just yell that!” Arianna said her voice as commanding as her mother’s.

“There’s no way…” Eva said. “You have to keep a mandrake lead in your mouth for an entire month! Ugh, there’s no way I could do that.”

“I swear to you… When you’re like me you hear things in the bathroom all the time,” Myrtle said matter-of-factly. Myrtle continued to ramble about other rumors going around the school. 

“Ah Myrtle’s muggle club is all here today,” a girl with blonde curly hair said. 

You all looked up to find who the voice belonged to. 

Olive Hornby. 

A rude pure-blood from Gryffindor. 

“Right, why are you even here Olive… the tables are separated by houses. Please scuttle off like the rat infestation you are,” Eva said uncaringly if Olive came from a pure-blood family. 

Olive stood there for a moment mouth agape eyes wide. The rest of you snickered a bit. 

“Well then… I will but not before I give a few tips for Myrtle’s terrible case of dragon pox… oh wait it’s just her acne.” She giggled before finally walking away. 

“Get a life, Olive!” Eva said. 

You swore you could’ve felt Eva’s anger throughout the air. 

Your mind was only on Myrtle and she left before you all could even console her. 

“I’ll go check on her.” Arianna rushed to follow after Myrtle. 

“I’ll go too,” you say wanting nothing but to comfort your best friend. 

“Hey, I got it. You guys go to class and we’ll meet up later,” Ari said half smiling and half frowning. 

“Oh… alright,” you silently said. Unable to resist a frown forming. 

“Hey, Myrtle is going to be okay. She’s the biggest firecracker out of all of us,” Eva laughed and you nodded your head laughing too. 

You both parted ways and you felt a twinge in your gut. You hugged yourself and kept your eyes on the floor. 

. . . 

You walked alone to class and drifted through classes like you were running on autopilot. You couldn’t help but think about Myrtle. As much as you wanted to protect her from everything bad in the world you knew you couldn’t and that broke your heart. You loved your friends like they were your sisters. 

You walked to your final class, potions. 

Potions was your favorite class because of your favorite professor, Professor Slughorn. You knew that he chose favorites it was very apparent which house was his utmost favorite. He didn’t need a big sign or microphone to announce it. Most of the slug club was filled with Slytherins. It wasn’t exactly your favorite thing ever but it was just how it was. 

You felt a pair of eyes on you again. You couldn’t stop but look at and this time. You found a pair of eyes. Dark blue crystals were peering into your own. You stared back not knowing when to look away. Only when he gave you a mischievous smirk did you look away. 

Tom Riddle. 

You didn’t really like him much. You haven’t known anything bad he’s done but you just knew. You had this feeling you couldn’t shake when you shared a room with him. You avoided him the best you could. You just didn’t trust him. Something about him just rubbing you the wrong way.

It was like you knew the secret before anyone else did. You seemed to find that you knew it was always him. That some type of trouble or problem was because of him but you could never prove it. 

When you turned your head you felt arms circling you like a devil's snare. The classroom was filled with darkness and a man quietly chuckling making the pit in your stomach grow from fear. It held you everywhere almost swallowing you whole. You screamed only causing it to wrap around your neck and mouth

You could fill the life draining slowly, quietly before…

“Hey?? You okay?” Arianna asked eyebrows up and mouth pinched. 

You lifted your head. Your breathing was out of control and you were shaking, sweat beads were falling from your forehead. 

“No, um yes I- I’m not sure what happened?” You asked as Arianna started to fan you with her notebook. 

“I don’t know if I can ever explain it. You were here and then your eyes… turned a grey color. I- I are you sure you’re alright?” 

She was shaken by whatever happened you couldn’t even imagine what she saw while you were being choked. 

“I- I don’t even know what happened. I was standing and then the room was dark and the-“ 

“Okay, class let’s begin today's lesson!” Slughorn playfully spouted. 

She took your hand giving it a light squeeze letting you know everything was going to be okay. You sighed and looked up to Professor Slughorn and your mind couldn’t help but drift throughout the lesson. Especially when there was a pair of dark eyes following your every move. 

. . .  

“Would you care to stay behind?” 

Professor Slughorn had the brightest smile on his face.

“Of course professor,” you said. You waved your goodbyes to Arianna and then made your way back to your table.

“I hope you all got my letter for the party?” Professor Slughorn stood proud.

“Yes, I did professor,” One boy said.

“I got my letter,” another one followed. 

You nodded when he gestured to you. 

“Good good. I hope to see you all there. Remember this is a celebration for you all!” he smiled brightly as that same dark blue-eyed boy from earlier caught his attention. 

“Yes yes, you all can go.” He smiled before turning and whispering to Tom. “What do you need my boy?” 

You watched as Tom’s eyes bore into yours for a moment. You held your shaky hands to your stomach trying your best to calm down. 

You couldn’t be in there a second more so you immediately walked out as Tom and Slughorn talked very intently about something. Slughorn’s eyebrows furrowed when their conversation deepened. 

You knew a place where you were safe, the common room. You were happy just to finally get out of the class and be with your friends.

. . . 

You throw on your favorite and best dress. You loved events like these. You could finally wear whatever you wanted instead of the uniform. 

You smiled at yourself in the mirror unable to tear your eyes away from yourself. 

You looked gorgeous. 

Eva stopped to stare at you, a smile crawling over her face. 

“As pretty as a princess,” she said. 

“Thank you, Eva,” you giggled. “I’m going to be back in an hour or two I’m not expecting to stay there the whole time.” 

“Okay but do bring back some of the food. I hope they have crab cakes again.” 

A laugh left your mouth as you agreed you’d get more crab cakes for her. You gave your goodbyes and left promptly. 

Your way down was a fun task. Slughorn ensured everyone in the club had a different route to follow to get to the destination. It was designed for what that person was capable of. 

You had the fun task of going through a maze. You were a pretty good navigator, already knowing where to turn before you ever got there. 

You rounded another corner as a pair of trees and vines twisted to create a door. A beautifully shaped door. You went through and found a bustling party. You smiled as you found people dancing and people just talking and enjoying themselves. 

You just wished your friends were here to see it. 

You took a drink from a tray and started to down it before you grabbed another.

It was probably several minutes in when you found yourself in another dark room. 

Stone painted the floors and walls it was covered in water. But this time you got to view yourself through the water-covered stone. You found your reflection crying as it stared at you. A pair of hands came around your reflection’s throat. You gasped as you could feel those hands around yours as well. 

It felt like how you did during potions like all the life was draining from you. A pair of real hands were on top of your shoulders bringing you back from this horrible daydream. 

“Are you alright?” A voice asked. A voice you knew all too well. 

“I’m okay, Tom.” 

You quickly moved his hands from your shoulders, like his touch was searing your skin. 

Tom noticed it, his eyes slightly glinting before going back to their original soft stare with a smirk on his lips this time. 

You looked away suddenly feeling like a deer caught in a headlights. 

“You look beautiful.”

You were taken aback by the compliment but accepted it anyway with a thank you. You felt no need to push him away immediately. 

It was still quiet for a couple of seconds before Tom spoke up yet again. 

“How are you enjoying the party?”

“It’s all right,” you replied wanting to keep it short and sweet. 

“Oh dear, is it not to your liking?” Tom asked his dark eyes doing that thing where they try to break you down and find out your every secret. 

“Um… no it isn’t that,” you said and for some reason, you wanted to tell him why. “I just- I just wish my friends were here.” 

He nodded like he was truly listening to you and for some reason you to keep going. You didn’t know why but you did. 

“One of them you see has been getting bullied-“ 

“That muggle-born girl.”

“She’s not just a muggle-born,” you said tight-lipped. “No one understands how hard it is for her.” 

“Hmm I see,” Tom replied with a nod. “Why won’t you guys tell the professors?”

“She doesn’t like it… she rather just let it be than make things worse,” you said, remembering the day that Myrtle was so upset about you guys for telling the head of Ravenclaw. 

“Don’t tell anyone I told you this please.” 

You couldn’t stop the shaking that filled your hands. You don’t know why you kept telling Tom everything. 

“Don’t worry. It will be our little secret,” Tom whispered with a smirk.

You felt like you told him something you shouldn’t have and you couldn’t help but blame yourself for whatever the consequences will be.

. . . 

“Y/n! It’s Myrtle I can’t find her anywhere,”  Arianna woke you up with a harsh whisper. 

“What, she never came back from the restroom?” You sleepily mumbled. 

You got up rubbing your eyes a bit when Arianna also woke up Eva. You turned to the window the sun wasn’t even on the horizon yet. 

“It’s Olive, I knew it. She must done something. I knew Myrtle was hiding something,” Eva shouted tears pooling in her eyes. 

“Please calm down and keep quiet. We need to have level heads.” Arianna pleaded. 

She gripped Eva’s hands holding them tight to her chest. Eva sighed staring at her before nodding. 

“We need to be careful with the prefects and the professors. If we are caught we have to tell them immediately what happened,” Arianna stated. 

You swallowed staring at the ground and nodded with Eva following suit. 

“Let’s go.”

You all left the dorm, deciding to split and look at different parts of the big castle. You took to the higher level bathrooms, while Eva took to the lower levels, and Arianna the common room bathrooms. 

You heard some chattering before you entered the bathroom. It was loud but not loud enough to draw attention. 

You looked around and no one was patrolling this section of the castle. 

You guessed it was because no one came here. As you went deeper into the bathroom there was water flooding the place. You stared at the ground wondering what transpired here. You could’ve sworn you screamed at the sight before you. 

Myrtle. 

Myrtle was on the ground. Lifeless eyes staring into nothing. You immediately fell to your knees. You couldn’t stop sobbing and shaking as your hands tried to touch her face. She was cold. No sight of life in her eyes at all. 

“Myrtle… wake up please,” You knew deep down she wouldn’t say anything but a part of you was expecting her to say it was a prank and that she was playing. 

“Please wake up,” you cried harder. 

You cried for some time until you heard some pipes moving and the sounds of water flowing. You moved your eyes toward the direction of the sounds. The sinks were opened and there was a hole in the middle of them. 

You shook as you walked closer. You didn’t know why or how but your body moved on its own and walked in. 

You don’t remember anything after that. Only waking up to Tom inspecting you. 

He smiled not one of warmth but one of triumphant. 

You shook underneath his gaze unable to move or to scream. You didn’t know why or how but something in you told you he was the blame for all of this. 

“What did you do to Myrtle?” You silently demanded. 

Tom only smiled and looked at you with the tip of his nose. 

“Nothing that she wasn’t going to already to go herself.” He said with no remorse in his eyes. “She was just a means to an end.”

You wanted to murder him right then and there. You wanted to hurt him.

“No no! How could you!?” You screamed tears threatening to fall. “You won’t get away with this.”

“I already have. What are you going to do?” He coolly replied. 

You pushed him away but he didn’t budge. You scooted back and Tom just watched you. Almost like he was letting you. 

You stood up and readied your wand, shaking as you held it.  You were never the dueling champion it was always Eva but it wasn’t too late to try now. 

“Expelliarmus!”

“Crucio!”

You both held onto your wands tightly. You knew you weren’t going to win this from the way your hands were shaking. You stood there until you weren’t. You didn’t know what happened but you fell to the floor screaming. You couldn’t even hear Tom’s laughing through the torturing. Full-on waterfalls were pouring from your eyes as your screams filled the chamber. 

You didn’t realize it finally stopped until Tom was on top of you. You couldn’t even register what he was doing. Your mind was fuzzy and your brain was feeling like mush. 

“You put up a good fight,” he chuckled as he threw you in your back. His eyes drifted to your face holding your jaw harshly. “You’re just too perfect to kill.”

He smiled at you as he brought his face to yours and gently licked the salty tears from your cheeks. You couldn’t stop him because you couldn’t feel anything. You couldn’t do anything as he ripped the top of your night dress in half. 

You would’ve sobbed if you had the chance but you couldn’t move your body, not even twitch your fingers. 

His lips were on your chest. Like he wanted to savor this moment. You could feel tears pooling in your eyes but you couldn’t do anything about it. You wanted to close your eyes but you couldn’t even do that. 

The rest was a blur. All you could feel was the ripping of underwear and the smell of blood. 

Your breath was knocked out of you as he shoved himself in. It unfortunately brought you back. You couldn’t stop the tears from falling from your eyes. 

You wanted to scream. To scream for help. Anything. But you knew it would be useless. You were trapped down here with a monster. 

“Get off,” you breathed, you truly didn’t know how your hoarse voice spoke without tearing out your vocal cords. 

“And why would I do that?” He said happily. His thrusts were painful and his nails were breaking skin on your thighs. You needed something to grab onto. To ground yourself. 

You felt his cheek press against your cheek. You would’ve thrown up right then and there if it wasn’t for the hand around your throat. 

That’s how you figured out this wasn’t about you. It was the power he wanted. The power he held over you. 

Blood joined the watery floor and surrounded you both. You didn’t know whose blood it was. 

The only thing you noticed was how it egged him on. His thrusts went harder and faster as he stared at himself through the bloody reflection. 

You felt his hand move up with your jaw. A kiss was pressed onto your lips. You wanted to puke. He took everything from you and he’s smiling while kissing you. 

You lay there unmoving and barely breathing. You didn’t know what else to do. You couldn’t fight him off. Not with the aftershocks of the cruciatus curse. 

You laid there until he was done. You didn’t miss the warmth that entered your. A gasp left your mouth as he pressed himself deeper making sure to mark you from the inside out. 

He pulled himself out. Admiring the work he’s done on you. 

“You truly are so beautiful” was all you heard before blacking out again. 

. . . 

As soon as you opened your eyes you knew you weren’t at Hogwarts. You took in the sight around you. The room was in disarray. It was dusty, the ceilings were covered in spider webs, and the air was stale. 

The bed you were on had almost no cushion. You tried to sit up but when you did you were pulled immediately back down. You looked up to see ropes digging into your wrists. The more you pulled the tighter they seemed to get so you quit altogether.

You wanted to cry, you didn’t know what else to do. You weren’t at Hogwarts. Your friends surely didn’t know what was going on. You were alone with nobody to help you. 

That was… until you saw movement at the corner of your eye. The boy who did this all just a few steps from you. 

"You're so pretty when you sleep, so peaceful."

You wanted to shout to scream but all that left your lips was, “I want to go home.”

He laughed at you like you had told the funniest joke ever. 

You didn’t want to cry in front of him and yet tears still welled up in your eyes, disappointing you. 

“You are home.” 

You felt your hands tremble and your heart race. You were scared. You didn’t have your friends. You didn’t have your mother with you. You had no one but this monster. 

He walked around the bed and held your face, lightly stroking your jaw with his thumb. In his other hand, he held something red and mushy. 

“This is what you’re going to eat,” he began to explain. “Its sole purpose is to help you confine yourself to your new life.”

“H-how?” 

His mouth moved close to your ear, his lips practically kissing it. 

“By making everyone you’ve ever loved, seen, spoke to, forget about you.” 

Your eyes went wide and your head shook. 

“No… no! I’m never going to eat that you cannot force me,” you screamed. You couldn’t. There was no possibility that that was something you were going to eat. 

His hand pinched your jaw and you could feel it go numb from how hard he grabbed you. 

“Fortunately for you, it doesn’t work if I force you… so lucky me I got a way to sway your decide your decision.” 

His hand that gripped your jaw let you go roughly. He summoned something in his hand, it was a piece of paper that you screamed at the sight of. 

Your mother lay dead on the paper. Blood smeared her face and her body. It was like you were looking in a window. Everything was so clear that you could see the small birthmark on her cheek. 

You sobbed loudly trying your best to come up with ways she might’ve survived. To come up with anything. You knew that it was real that that was your real mother on the paper. You couldn’t stop crying. 

"Hey hey you’re alright,” he said with a smile before it disappeared entirely and he gripped your throat. 

“I made my sacrifice, now it's your turn,” he said with no sympathy. 

There was a moment where it was only your whimpers and sobs before Tom rolled his eyes. 

“If you don’t eat it willingly I will murder the rest of your friends. What were their names again…? Eva and Amy? Oh, Arianna.” 

You sobbed unable to control the tears falling. 

He brought the fruit to your lips and you couldn’t avoid this. You knew only one outcome was going to happen—one where Tom wins. You sobbed harder as it reached your tongue. 

Everyone you ever loved was going to forget about you. As if you never existed to them. 

As you swallowed it you collapsed unable to hold yourself up from the pulling of the ropes. You didn’t even fight it. You couldn’t. You just let the darkness crawl over you. 

. . .

You couldn’t shake the feeling of Tom’s breath all over your face as he held you down. 

You felt sick and you were to the point of exhaustion. You could barely remember how you got there. Who you were. You could only think of him in between your legs. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered and it reminded you of a time before. A time of happiness long forgotten. 

He spilled himself into you for the fourth time in a row. He softly cooed at you, a smile forming on his lips. 

“When my seed takes…. You shall be blessed with a child of Gaunt,” Tom moaned. The idea makes him rut into you harshly. 

“You would like that wouldn’t you?”

[spookyasmr]

[lightningant]

While hashing out my Late-Borgin Tom design and demeanor I was thinking about horcrux timelines and when he'd made the locket

"Hm. The locket is the one Ron had homoerotic tension with right"

LOCK IN

I have no AU in mind i just like when loving couples are not matching each other's energy at all and think tom being patronizing towards his much younger agonizingly normal boyfriend who he is emotionally dependent on is really, really funny.

[handledwithgloves]

harry potter pov:

[mrsdarkandyandere7]

Yandere Tom Riddle Headcanons

Pairing: Yandere Tom Riddle x (female) Hufflepuff Reader

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

AN: Please, reblog and give me feedback.

--

You’re a direct descendent from the Hufflepuff bloodline, something that definitely stirs up Tom’s attention. That means you’re the true heir of the Hufflepuff House, just like he is with the Slytherin House. 

Even though you’re both the heirs to your own bloodlines plus the fact that you are a pure-blood, he’ll never consider you to be equal to him. You’re undoubtedly superior to the rest of the peasants, but not him. 

After all, Hufflepuff is ridiculously kind and mundane, every Hufflepuff is a weak thing in Tom’s eyes. Always disgustingly nice and ready to help others. Truly abhorrent.

But desperate times call for equally desperate measures. 

However, he’ll also consider that you’re both equal in a twisted way given that you’re both the last of your kind. Descendants of the noble and pure-blood families that had once created Hogwarts.  

Therefore, you must bond yourselves into an unbreakable union. You belong together. Tom has complex and ambitious plans to conquer the Wizarding world and he imagines that with you by his side. 

You’re 2 years younger than him, so he tries to get closer to you by pretending to help you with your studying. He’s already studied whatever you’re currently studying, not to mention that he is one of Hogwarts top students, if not the best. He often offers to let you borrow his scrolls of notes. 

As a Prefect, he would often give you a free pass whenever you and your stupid friends created some trouble, pretending to be a nice person as he knows how much that’ll mean to you. You do have a sweet spot for kind people, after all. 

He developed a rather stalkerish habit of coincidentally appearing wherever you are, his eyes always discreetly following you. And if he’s busy with other duties, then he’ll have the members of his tight circle of friends to keep an eye on you. 

He keeps up the facade of being an absolute gentleman and an exemplary student in front of you, often trying to start a conversation with you and treating you better than others, mentioning how you’re far superior from the rest of the students. 

However, he’s not able to fully convince you of his “kind” nature. There’s always an implicit hesitance in you whenever you interact with Tom, maybe it’s nothing but you’re always having a bad feeling when you’re around Tom. 

Like he’s not being completely truthful towards you, almost as if there’s something wrong with him. You try not to dwell too much on those thoughts, preferring to offer him a hand of friendship for him to prove himself to be a good human being. 

As you get older, his behavior also changes. He becomes different, more mature, more committed to his plans. 

One day, he reveals to you in great secret that he is the heir of the Slytherin House and of all the plans he has for the future. On how he expects you to join him and take your place by his side. 

You can’t decipher whether he’s joking or being delusional, but it doesn’t matter. You’ll have to play along with it, Tom is too dangerous for you to reject him. 

But if you prove yourself to be incapable of being loyal to him and his cause, Tom will be forced to make you submit through the Imperio spell. 

That way you won’t be able to rebel up against him. You’re meant to be his Dark Lady and you’re no one to stop that from happening. 

[prettybabybaby]

stepdad! tom riddle would go so hard ngl

rating: ¡ 18+ only ! ¡ minors do not interact !

content: stepcest

wait you’re right…

stepdad!tom who doesn’t particularly like you, in fact he finds you irritating and spoiled rotten. he still finds himself overly involved in what you’re doing, fearing that you’re reckless behavior will impact his reputation. you appear so bold and strong but the lack of a father figure makes you want his approval even though you’re not the biggest fan of him either. he’s so cold and controlling towards you, giving you orders he expects you to obey without questions and setting rules that are nearly impossible to follow without upsetting him in some way.

when he finds out about your sexually deviant behavior his treatment only gets worse. he feels incredibly possessive over you, telling himself that he only felt that way because of your role in his plans and boy because of his sexual attraction towards you. he starts to punish you, cursing the men who dare step foot into your bedroom alone and claiming that they were only interested in you to get an inside look at what tom is going to do next.

you grow more and more sexually frustrated as time goes on, resorting to rutting against your pillow or pushing your fingers inside of yourself to get off. tom can hear you and he loves hearing how needy you get. he makes comments about his disgusting you are, telling you he heard you through the walls or he could smell your scent as soon as he opened the door to your room.

he secretly hopes that one day you’ll ask him for help.

[megwritesriddles]

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

18+ MDNI !!!

Pairing: Tom Riddle x Fem! Reader / You

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

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

READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED!!!!

Word count: 5.1k

Read it on ao3! | Masterlist

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

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

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Where would I go?” you exhale.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

xoxoxo

[nepentheansea]

Pacify Her

© nepentheansea all works are my own and contain mature content!

𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ・𝑯𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒚 𝑷𝒐𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑼𝒏𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒆

premise: The devil was real, and you were prepared to do anything for him.

pairing: Professor Tom Riddle x Fem!Reader

warnings: dark elements, toxic obsessions, possession (but not the scary supernatural kind) smut (p in v-fingering-etc) tom riddle (his own warning) there is probably a lot more...

wc: 4.2k

a/n: this is beautiful and I don't care if you don't agree. shoutout to @demiguisemoon for keeping me company throughout this ride.

enjoy the playlist that I made for this story!

He never truly knew what you were capable of, or more so what his influence would do to you, and that was the problem. He had completely underestimated you, and that would be not only your downfall, but his as well. Pretty and pliant, that's what you were to him, the perfect match, not only intellectually, but emotionally as well. You suited him. From the moment you stumbled into his compartment on the train, down to the moment that you sat down in front of him, not a word muttered, but yet a conversation was had. You understood him, and quite frankly, he understood you, or so he believed.

No one understood him the way you did, the way that you clung to his every word like gospel. Feeding into his absurdities, but never once looking at him as if he was wrong. You supported him. Truth was you were obsessed. Incomplete and broken without him, much like a wounded bird, someone he could fix, take care of, mould into something he wanted, and you lived for it. Lived for the moments that he taught you, helped you, controlled you. The moments where he needed you and only you. At his beck and call in the late hours of the night, or for the favours that could ultimately get you expelled, for anything he wanted, and you’d do it, obediently. You were his. You belonged to him from the first moment, and though neither of you knew it, he belonged to you. 

“Is this seat taken?” You asked, slipping into the compartment faster than he could respond, but he didn’t. He pulled his nose from the daily prophet to study you. He had never seen you before, which was odd considering you were in his house, the green and silver snake adoring your breast, a Slytherin, and a pretty one at that, an old soul and kindred spirit…of sorts. There was something in the way you looked at him, that dutiful look in your piercing eyes, a look as if you could see into the deepest darkest depths of his soul, something he was certain he had well hidden, and yet what you saw didn’t alarm you. Somehow it didn’t scare him, it intrigued him, you intrigued him. He watched as you slid the door closed behind your back, before sliding into the seat across from him, hands trapped behind your back, and your head cocked to the side as you studied him. The slightest of smiles on your face. He should have known then, known what you would become to him, but he could never have suspected you to be as such.

Frail and malleable, obsessed and devoted, and you were his. His star, his pet, his property. You grew to need him, unable to do without the moments you shared with him. You found yourself lingering in the back of his classes, hoping that he would catch a fleeting glimpse of you, needing you for something, anything, to utilise you, need you. For the moments that he’d call for you in the late hours of the night, for the small favours that could leave you expelled or worse, with the promise that nothing bad was going to happen to you, he wouldn’t let it. The hours that you spent with him, soon turned to days, weeks, stealing away any moment that you could, eager to please, to be close. Somewhere in the dim candle light of his office, stolen glances, gentle touches, words exchanged. Finding yourself desperate for the after hours of study in the library, the ones where you could find him making his way from the restricted section, his pretty nose stuck within the pages of his books. Knowing you were there, dutifully watching him, waiting for the right opportunity to seek him out or for him to call for you. 

Your life had become dull. Classes lacked challenge, you found little to no enjoyment in day to day activities, your friends became distant memories, dramatic, but even your mundane routines lost flavour. All you had was him, and the little periods of time you spent by his side. At his beck and call, seduced by the ways he consumed you. Your mind, your body, and most definitely your tainted soul. He knew it too, knew that he could use you for anything his heart desired, that you would do nothing but obey him, follow blindly if he requested it of you, no questions to be asked. A perfect pawn, follower. The more eager you became, with the incessant need to do more, be more for him, he took to it. Giving you more and more to do. It had soon become a list of tasks, simple favours as he would call it. Hide this, seek out this, do this…And you did, you did all of it. 

Your blood rushed as you closed the office door behind you, back pressed against the firm wood, hands clasped behind you, as your eyes scanned the dimly lit room until you found him. In the centre of the room, sat plainly in his chair, eyes roaming your eager figure. He looked as though he sat on a throne, one of his own creation, his arms extended out on the sides of the chair, comfortable and yet cold, observant. “Did you get it?” was all he said, leaning forward over his desk, the faintest traces of a smile on his face when the stifled giggle of yours fleas from your lips. You held it up, in the palms of your small hands presenting it to him, the book he had sent you to find. Restricted, forbidden even, and you had managed it, with his help of course. “Of course.” you whispered. He beckend you over with the bend of two slender fingers, and you moved on your own volition, approaching him with such eagerness. He took the book from your palms, his fingers ghosting over your soft skin, and you wonder if it was on purpose. “Good girl.” There it was, the praise you strove for, the praise that came from him and him only. The slightest flick of his wand had the door clicking locked, as his eyes came to study you once more. There was a fascination in his gaze, the way his eyes softened to you, desperately trying to hide the hunger that he felt towards you. You had something that he had never quite found in anyone else, something that made him crave you more than he had for anyone else…and there it was, the thought that you were his and only his. 

His eyes left you, meeting the pages of the book you had stolen for him, consuming every word on the stale worn parchment. While he was entranced, devouring the text, you were devouring the sight of him, leaning over the desk, eyes droning over the pages. He was stunning this way. The crease in his brow, eager to learn, and you were right there with him, desperate to know just what held him so captivated, leaning over his desk in hopes of catching the slightest bit of the contraband he had tasked you with stealing, no concern for what could have happened to you if you had been caught. But you knew that somehow, if that had been the case, he would have protected you, always, he would be there. His eyes darted up from the page, a lustful hunger to them, but for you or for the knowledge he had been enthralled with, you weren’t sure. “Look.” he instructs, slumping back in his chair, gesturing to the page, the hints of a smile on his lips. Clasping your hands behind your back, you leaned over the mahogany desk, feeling the hem of your uniform riding up in the back, exposing yourself to him as you did your best to read what was before you, eyes focussing on the text of ancient runes. It wasn’t of much use, you simply couldn’t read it. “I can’t read it, sir.” you mutter, chancing a look back at him. His eyes were shamelessly crawling up the length of your bare legs, and to the swell of your ass. He had looked at you like this before, that strained look in his eyes, like he was in deep thought but those thoughts were ones that he would never quite say aloud, the smallest of smirks on his lips, as he dragged his tongue along them. “I see..” he remarks, slowly pulling his gaze away from your ass, to meet your much more innocent gaze. It was one of his favourite things to do. To teach you, to watch you learn from him. It gave him the sweetest sense of power and meaning. “And what would you have me do about that, darling?” He leaned forward, his eyes cold and narrowed, but that flick of amusement dancing across them.

“Read it to me?” It was a simple request, your voice strong and confident. You wanted to know, wanted him to show you, and he seemed to like the idea. Tom hummed, a sweet sound of satisfaction, as his slender fingers wrapped around your dainty wrist, pulling you down onto his lap, a gesture he had never quite done before. He was confident in his motions, calculated and collected. He knew what he wanted, and that was you. His hands remained on your hips, fingers drumming on your thighs. “Read it to you, hmm?” He hums, delicately brushing a strand of your hair away from your neck, the tips of his fingers ghosting over your throat. Goosebumps lining your skin, while his other hand trailed slowly up your bare thigh. Gentle touches that were purposeful, and well measured. Even in this, he was in control. In control of himself, and of the situation. “How will you ever learn if I just read it to you?” “Teach me then..” you blurt, your voice had never been so soft, so demanding and yet desperate. “Sir..” you add, looking back at him. His thumb had started to draw soft slow patterns on your inner thigh, dangerously close to your cunt. “Teach you….” You could see that he was mulling it over…”teach you…” he cooed in approval, a sinister grin consuming his face. “Very well, darling, teach you, I shall.” He gave a hearty squeeze to your thigh, your breath hitching and your body tensing for a brief moment in his lap, shifting your attention back to his face. Pretending as if he couldn’t see the way your eyes studied him, the way they seemed to have heart shaped iris that were only for him.  

His own gaze was casted past you, eyes scoured the pages before him, looking for something suitable to turn into a lesson. His hands still wandering aimlessly on your skin. “Here…let's start simple…” He leaned back enough, turning to look at you, his breath fanning across your lips from being so close. His eyes trailing up your features until his eyes met yours. “This rune here…” he starts, grasping your jaw with his index and thumb, turning your face, back to the book. “This rune…’othilia’ corresponds to the Latin letter…?” “o.” you state, looking to him for approval, his approval. A soft smile was all he gave you. “And what do you think it means…” His hand, resting under your skirt, had found its way to the crease of your hips and thighs, squeezing at the supple flesh, while his thumb thrummed against your clothed cunt. You found it hard to concentrate, to really look at the shapes on the page, but you had to. “Um…power, wealth?” you tried, letting out a breathy sigh, when his thumb found its way into the damp fabric of your panties, rolling soft circles into your swollen clit. You felt his lips against your ear, your head lulled back against his shoulder. “It means, heritage, possession..” he punctuated the last word with a flick of his thumb, a gesture that had a sweet moan falling from you. With precision he gently rolled his finger over your bud, nipping at your ear with each sweet sound you let out. “Focus….” he coos, drawing your half lidded eyes back to the book. “This one, ‘mannaz’,  tell me its correspondent…” Your mind was muddled. He had pulled the wet fabric away from your cunt, traipsing his slender fingers through your folds, collecting your sweet arousal, teasing your entrance as he waited for your response. “Go on…what is it.?” You hummed softly, searching your mind for what it could possibly be. “Um..it’s ‘m’ the latin ‘m’..” you whimpered, feeling the intrusion of a single digit slipping into your sopping heat. He was rewarding you, with each correct response you gave him. “And what does it mean?” 

You weren’t sure how much of this he really thought you could handle, not with the way that his finger was slowly thrusting in and out of you, his thumb languidly massaging your tender clit. He was watching you, his own gaze lidded, dark. Hungry. He was enjoying this, enjoying the way that he had you, pulling answers from you with simple touches. “Don't make me stop, what does it mean?” he teases, and yet somewhere in the pit of your stomach, you knew that he would. That he would leave you high and dry at a moment's notice. Your eyes had fallen closed, summoning all of your strength to answer him, as he slipped another finger into you, curling them against your sweet spot, just to feel your breath hitch and your body shutter in his grasp. You could feel the way that his cock had hardened beneath you, kept from you by the confines of his trousers, and it did little to help you focus any, it was cruel. “It means…ma-man?” you gasped out, his pace increasing. His lips met the side of your neck, tenderly kissing every bit of exposed skin that he was presented with, careful not to leave a single mark on that delicate skin of yours. “Very good..” he coos, his hot breath felt on your neck and ear. His fingers toyed relentlessly with your aching cunt, his thumb circling your clit gently, and his lips littering chaste kisses to your exposed skin. He had quickly given up on the lesson at hand, now far too consumed in the way that you were writhing happily in his grasp, soft sweet sounds escaping past your lips. Your back arched into him, your head resting on his shoulder as you lost all coherency. Lewd sounds left you like a sinful prayer, trickling past your lips with no real power to stop them. 

You whined, feeling the emptiness in your cunt as he pulled his fingers from you, only to have them brought up to your chapped lips, as he slid not one but both fingers into your mouth, pressing down on the pad of your tongue. A silent order, to taste yourself, to clean up the mess that you had made, and you did without hesitation, closing your lips around them, letting your tongue lap up any and all of the arousal that coated his fingers. He cooed, sweet and simple praises, between delicate chaste kisses to your neck. His free hand wanders the expanse of your neck, down to the top of your blouse, deftly popping the buttons one by one. His touch was featherlight, a mere ghost over your skin, and such a thing allowed for goosebumps to litter your skin. His thumb circles your nipple through your thin bra, smiling against your neck as it perks at his touch. He loved the possession he had over your body, the way you would let him do whatever to it as if it was his own, and you would argue that it was. That it belonged to him, that you belonged to him. 

You weren’t sure when it changed, the suddenness of it all, but you found yourself being gently laid down against the hard polished wood of his desk, your back draping over the materials he had been studying, and your skirt pushed up your waist. His body hovered over yours, his hands gliding up under the blouse that he had worked open, greedily exploring the exposed skin, his head ducked and lips ghosting over the spot his hands had touched mere seconds ago. Your eyes had fallen shut somewhere along the way, relying on your other senses completely. Gentle kisses, soft bites, and languid movements of his tongue as he dragged it up your sternum and neck, taking in the sweet smell and taste of your delicate skin. You arched into his touches, soft sweet sounds escaping you at every one. Each of your senses flooded with nothing but him. His lips were pending over yours, a silent acknowledgement, that everything would be on his terms, and you were okay with it. 

He didn’t bother to kiss you, and you didn’t request it of him either. 

Tom made quick work of removing his trousers, before his hands slid up your thighs, fingers ghosting over your cunt, teasing you just enough to keep you present in the moment. He hooked his fingers over your panties and pulled them aside, the cool air hitting your bare cunt, a soft hiss escaping your lips.  With his free hand, Tom wrapped his slender fingers around your chin, using his index and thumb to pull your face up to his. His eyes were cold, animalistic desire dwelling past the dark shade of brown. He tilted your head down so that you could watch the way his swelling cock slid into your tight cunt, forcing you to understand that he owned you, now in body as well.

Your mouth hung open in a silent gasp, the unrelenting feeling of him stretching you out was nothing shy of pain, but a sweet sweet pleasure. He watched your face, mocking the way you fell silent, with a sly smirk to his perfect lips. He forced you to watch every sinful inch of him disappear deep into your greedy cunt, time and time again. He wanted you to understand, to grasp the claim he had on you. You were being rewarded for your diligence, for your obedience, and he wanted you to know that you were his, only his. No one else could touch you like this, that's what he was saying to you. 

Tom let go of your face, as he gripped your hips, jerking you towards the edge of the table. Your hands fall back to support you, arching your back slightly as you watch him with lidded eyes. As he moved, his pace picking up with each passing moment, you began to lose yourself to the delicious drag of his heavy cock, your sinful mantra of moans and whimpers filling the dark empty spaces of his office. His fingers gripping onto the soft pliable flesh of your thigh and hip was bruising, another simple yet effective reminder of who you belonged to. 

He watched each little tick of your face, each pleasure filled twitch of your lips as you fought off a smile at the feeling of him, taking in each little puff of air that left your parted lips, each pant and moan of satisfaction. He coaxed nothing but the best out of you, building your release at his own desire, his own pace. Your head fell back, your eyes falling closed as you did. You were consumed by the feeling of him and your body was reacting to it in the only way it knew how. 

You felt his hand leave your thigh first, before feeling it wrap around your throat, his long slender fingers wrapping around the curve of your jaw, as he willed you to look at him once more. 

“You keep those pretty little eyes of yours…on me,” he whispered forcefully. There was no room for mistake, you would watch him as he possessed every part of you. He controlled it all, and you’d let him, you’d let him do it forever. 

That's when it all changed. 

He had been sweet seduction, and the thought alone drew you closer….until she came along. Professor. Hawkethorn had never been his match, not the way you were. She didn’t understand him, she didn’t see him for what he truly was. She had fallen trap to his charm, and that was only the surface. You watched it happen, your late night sessions with him faded, he seemingly didn’t need you as much, and he gave not even the slightest inkling why. He said nothing, entertained nothing, did, nothing. His time seemed occupied, but not by you, by her. Selvine Hawkethrone, the new history of magic professor. 

Fine, checkmate. He didn’t want to see you? then you would make him. See you at your fullest, see that you were always there, that you had never left, and more importantly, that you were still very much his to possess. 

He needed to see you, not her. He had no business with her, she wouldn’t do the things that you did for him, you were certain of that. She was only a disruption, a threat to what you guys shared, and she had to go. You wanted to show him your devout loyalty, the extremes that you were willing to go to keep him, to protect him, to *serve* him, and so you would. 

You sat in *his* chair, his office dark and cold, nothing that you minded, as you waited…waited to hear the sound of polished heels clack on in the smooth stone outside the door. You pulse steady as the door opens, a small sliver of light filling the room. 

“Tom?” her soft voice echoed off the shelves of books, as she warily stepped inside. Once the door was shut, you waved your wand lazily, the candles that surrounded his office springing to life with a dull crackle. Her eyes met yours immediately, and they widened almost as if they had seen something they shouldn’t have. She looked fearful. You had a crazed look in your eyes, as you looked over her in silence. She was pathetic, dressed in her best clothes as if she was expecting to meet Professor Riddle, and that's exactly what you had told her, in your little letter. Told her to meet you here, that you desired to see her, all pretending to be your dear dear professor, and she fell for it. Pathetic. 

“You don’t deserve him….” you said, your tone hollow, as you watched her flinch slightly. “Did you really think that he would want you? Send for you? Come on Selvine…you have more sense than that…” you continued, pulling yourself to stand up, walking around the desk, your fingers taunting the flame of the candle. “Professor…you were never going to be his match, his equal…he is destined for great things and you were never going to be the one to help him fulfil that…your just….” You gestured to her with the tip of your wand as if to say something cruel, your face contorted in disgust. “Weak, you're just plain….ordinary…” you said, a mock tone of pity, your face in a frown. 

Selvine said nothing, but reached for her wand slowly, not sure what to expect from you, but you saw it…”ah ah ah, don’t do that..” you warned. You were now pointing your wand directly at her, your grip firm and unwavering. You take a deep breath, tired of this moment…Selvine opened her mouth to say something but you were quick to silence her, ”Save it professor, you shouldn’t touch things that aren’t yours.” 

You flicked your wrist and a green jet of light bursted out of the tip of your wand without remorse. You watched with glassy, transfixed eyes as her lifeless body crumbled to the floor with a thump. The simple unforgivable curse stealing what small pathetic life she had out of her. She was gone. Dead. you lowered your wand to your side, and stood there, slightly shocked by what you had done. 

Tom had slipped out from a dark corner of his office, one where he had stood, watching the entire thing transpire before his eyes. His cold gaze watching you as he approached. Your eyes snapped up to meet him, startled, and unaware that he had been watching the entire time..but that meant that he had seen it, seen the lengths you would go to just for him. You had used the unforgivable curse, for him, something that you had never done before.  

You felt yourself soften, at his appearance, as he stepped over the lifeless body like it was nothing but scum beneath his foot as he approached you. Gripping your chin like a child as he pulled you to meet his gaze. He almost looked pleased, a small sense of approval in his tepid gaze.  

“You can't tell anyone, Professor, I did this for you...she was a threat, and I took care of it, I killed her for you...for us.” you pleaded softly, scared that you had upset him. 

The darkness he lurked in had always been seductive, and when he held out his hand to guide you, how could you say no. You followed, eyes never leaving his, entranced by the beauty of it all, the beauty of the power and knowledge that he possessed. And he was going to share it all with you. It was then that you knew, the devil was real, and you were prepared to do anything for him. “I won’t tell anyone, it's our little secret.”

[icarus-daedaluss]

Pov : U joined Slytherin 📗🐍💚

[yichuuonvenus]

!!I am a dark fic writer so if that scares you please do not go any further!! - Love, Yichuu

Peter Parker Ethan Landry Tom Riddle Coriolanus Snow Walter De Ville Loki Laufeyson Aemond "One-Eye" Targaryen Arvin Russell Jacaerys Velaryon

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The Woods...