#tom riddle drabbles

[rxsilabeth--er]

let's inagurate this blog with a good note shall we? >:3

Hear me out- on the line of the bullying Tom Riddle agenda Tom's boggart in DADA class is actually the reader about to ruin his whole career because that would be hilarious

☎ Now Calling......Author: "Hello? Hai, yes, thank you for requesting this Hazel, I will surely not disappoint you and hopefully you enjoy reading this, I love bullying Tom as well! Okay, talk to you later! Bye!!"

☎ Now Calling......Synopsis: "Hello! Hai..okay!!...Hmmm....Tom, the prince of Slytherin and feared and admired by many of his fellow peers and students at Hogwarts....find out his worst fear at Defense Against the Dark Arts call with a boggart...but..one second! Why is there a Hufflepuff tie being shown in the human figure of the boggart???"

☎ Now Calling......Warnings: "...nothing...other than Tom Riddle himself as a whole! Anyways....crack..kind of fluff???? Don't know..Bye!! I'm not a funny person!! I know, sorry! I tried my best..."

Scarily Cute Boggart...

Tom didn't really want to move to class, but he still did...He was the Head boy! Of-course he would!!....and because he didn't want you to bully him into doing it... as he sat down Tom was also trying his HARDEST to not put the cruciatus curse on his classmate as he scribbled something in his diary..Waiting for the professor to come as it was their practical...Abraxas beside him gossiping about something...to which Tom definitely wasn't paying attention to..

Finally the professor entered the room, pulling a large rack behind him which seemed to shake and move, making everyone curious...Tom closed his diary and walked ahead to understand things..

"....Good morning! So...today's topic is...can you guess it???" of-course no student could, "..Okay..so in this shoe rack....we have a boggart!" The students then all murmured a bit worriedly, as the closet gave a huge jolt

"Can anyone tell me what a boggart is???" of-course Tom's hand stood up before a few others, "..Boggart is a creature which lives in dark spaces and takes the form of whatever a person fears most."

"..Good job Riddle! 5 points to Slytherin!" the professor said as he explained the boggart's personality, habitat, living conditions, etc. before finally explaining how to repel a boggart.

"Riddikulus!"

"Riddikulus!!" the students repeated even Tom did, he was starting to feel a bad vibe coming from the cupboard and he didn't know how to explain it but he felt as though he would forever be embarrassed after this class...

"..Alright, now Riddle!! Do come forward boy!" the professor said as Tom stepped ahead brushing his worries aside, he can't have that! As the professor held his shoulder and pointed his wand at the rack door,

"..Alright, now..1...2...3" the professor did a spell as the rack knob moved and it flew open, the rack was dark inside and nothing could be seen, but a crouched figure of a person was seen, they straightened their back though still crouched and the sunlight hit their shirt....

a Hufflepuff tie...

A Hufflepuff tie...Tom....the heir of Slytherin, the head boy....Tom Riddle...was scared of a Hufflepuff!? That sounds like the biggest joke anyone has heard...or seen in this case...

Tom on the other hand stood there frozen..His cheeks red and his angrily glaring at the boggart...his wand pointed at the boggart who was now slowly moving forward, the sunshine now fell on it's Hufflepuff tie and mischievous grin...

"..Oh Tommy~ " a similar voice said in a teasing voice..it wasn't even cruel....but instead endearing in a way?

Don't know, but Tom began to shake in either fear or anger and pointed his wand at the boggart...who was still hidden in the shadow, only it's grin and tie showing..

"...Ri...Riddi..Riddkulus!!"...TOM RIDDLE STUTTERED?! and suddenly the boggart was switched into a tiny jack-in-the-box...

"..Good....good job... Good job Tom! fifty points to Slytherin!" the professor said forcing the boggart in as he patted Tom's shoulder..Tom was still frozen turned around and walked away embarrassed for life as Abraxas followed him with a grin asking, "..So...Tommy? What was that???" Abraxas's grin dropped from his lips when Tom glared at...Abraxas left and Tom moved to Slytherin dormitory. Tom walked up the stairs to his dorm to find you already sitting there grinning at a couldron mixed with some type of potions...

Oh god...everyone knew the boggart...and maybe they understand why you were his boggart...if they have experienced your words..even though you're a Hufflepuff....

© This writing work belongs to me, rxsilabeth--er, Aurelia, Rosilabeth, Cerine. Reblogging is appreciated, but plagiarizing or copying my works is forbidden, thank you for reading this and if you like this check out my blog!

[easterbonnet]

Tom Riddle Masterlist

. . .

headcanons

loving the loveless boy fic: part one part two part three

moodboard

note: he is also included in my hp boys react series on my masterlist

[animasola86]

SMUT DRABBLES*: Belly Bulge

A/N: So. You may or may not know this about me, but I have a size kink. One of my favorite tropes to write and read is tiny woman/big man. And with that information in mind, I give you something called Belly Bulge. Pretty self-explanatory, right? // As with my other Smut Drabbles (*we're still under 1k, baby, this is a drabble!), you can imagine any character here, or just keep it neutral/anonymous, whatever you like! Warnings for this one are: (obviously) size difference, unprotected sex, choking and I guess breeding kink if you squint.

WARNING: NSFW! Explicit sexual content! // WORDS: 825 // AO3

She stares at the little bulge with childlike fascination.

Moving her hands over her flat stomach, fingers shaking slightly, she presses down gently. A gasp escapes her when he moves behind her, his big hands on her small breasts, cupping them completely, squeezing, kneading, calloused palms rubbing over her hard nipples. His wide body beneath her, her cushioned rear squished to his lower stomach, shoulders pressing into his chest, his cock so deep inside her she can feel it prodding against her soft skin, literally stretching her limits.

The couch creaks beneath them as he starts thrusting upwards, his strong thighs moving against her feet that are tucked under his legs, her own spread almost painfully wide to give him better access. She watches him slide in and out, her hands rubbing down her mound, fingertips brushing against her clit, sending jolts of pleasure through her body, her folds parting wide with every deep plunge.

She moans, throwing her head back against his shoulder, when his thick cockhead scrapes over that sweet spot, almost rams into it in that position, before slipping deeper, denting her belly from within. She feels it against her palms, the constant nudging that drives her crazy. And the stretch. How he carves his way into her small body, presses between her tight muscles, molding her to his size.

When he had put his length onto her stomach to show her how far he would reach inside her, she had thought it was impossible to fit all of him into her tiny pussy, but he had made it work, inch by hard inch, with shallow snaps of his hips, as he went deeper and deeper, and while she thought the pain would split her in two as he pushed hard against her resisting muscles, she had adjusted, surprisingly quick. Mostly because of his whispered words, his hot breath on her ear, as he encouraged her.

“Shh, it'll be alright, baby. It'll fit. I'll make it fit. You were made for this. You were made for me! Look how well you can take me, all of me... every... single... inch...”

His voice has lulled her, and now his rapid breaths and quiet groans fill her head, his clenched jaw rubbing against her temple as he keeps groping her chest whilst ramming up into her, finding space within her, stretching her, filling her, taking root inside her. He grunts when she presses down on her stomach, meeting his tip as it dents her from within, and it encourages him to move faster, his thigh muscles tensing while he pushes harder, maybe even deeper, slam after slam, nudge after nudge.

She howls and whines, mewls and moans, the sensation almost too much for her to handle. His hands leave her breasts, letting them bounce with every upward thrust; his long fingers move to her throat, curling around her slender neck, applying just enough pressure that she gasps while her eyes roll back; his other hand moves down to join hers, one large palm pressing down hard, forcing her to feel more of him through her soft flesh.

Hammering into her with fervor, his breaths grow ragged while her own quiet down, silenced by how he squeezes her throat. She's seeing stars now, her mouth wide open, saliva gathering in the corners, some dripping down her chin, as he holds her, pushing her towards the edge and far beyond, and she feels her body convulsing, thighs twitching, that tension in her stomach, hot and tight, pushed aside by his large cock hitting all the right spots.

She's already floating, but then his hand leaves her stomach and teases her clit, rough fingertips rubbing hard and fast circles as he keeps pounding into her from beneath, skin slapping against skin, every rapid plunge causing her wetness to squelch out, obscenely loud, a cacophony of sounds that make her head spin even more.

And then she comes, muscles contracting, clamping down on him hard, the wet heat that has built up within her forcing out of her. She cries out soundlessly, eyelids fluttering open, body contorting into an arc that lifts her slightly off him, causing him to sink deeper, making the bulge even bigger, and he stills, an animalistic growl leaving his parted lips as he follows her over the edge, cock twitching, balls tight and pumping, and he grabs her hand and presses it onto her stomach, feeling how he fills her up with spurt after spurt of hot cum.

His other hand eases its grip on her throat, and she gasps, falling against him, panting, head completely empty, while her belly feels so full. His warm lips brush against her sweaty forehead, a tender kiss to calm her down even more. She smiles tiredly before she closes her eyes, her palm over her womb as he pumps it full of him, marking her, breeding her, finding a place for himself deep within her.

MASTERLIST // AO3 // ORIGINAL WORKS

MORE SMUT DRABBLES:

A steamy shower

Toy

Car Inspection

Tension Relief

Sleepy

On the edge

[riddleswhcre]

────۶ৎ you want a reaction, don't you?

you’ve been pushing your stepdad's buttons for weeks. you've been teasing him, testing his patience, waiting for the moment he finally snaps. tonight, he does. and he’s going to make sure you never act like a brat again.

warnings: stepcest, smut, age gap, dom!tom, brat-taming, spanking, choking, dirty talk, teasing, fingering, degradation, overstimulation, praise, pet names, breeding kink, possessiveness.

𓏲 ࣪₊ ❥ 𓂃 more

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝

you were pushing his buttons again.

lounging on the plush sofa in nothing but an oversized shirt—one of his, because you knew how much it got under his skin—you twirled a finger around a strand of your hair, all innocent. “are you going to keep pretending i’m not here, sir?”

tom riddle didn’t look up from his book. the firelight cast sharp shadows over his face, highlighting the tick in his jaw. you recognised that look. he was at his limit, but he wouldn’t give you the satisfaction just yet.

so you pushed further.

sprawling out, you let your legs part just a little, enough for him to catch a glimpse of your bare thighs. “or are you too busy reading to notice how bored i am?”

the moment his eyes flicked up—cold, calculating—you felt it. the shift in the air, the weight of his attention pinning you in place.

“you want a reaction, don’t you, little one?” he murmured, setting his book aside with slow, deliberate movements. “acting out, testing my patience. how predictable.”

your stomach flipped. this was what you wanted. what you needed.

“so what if i am?” you challenged, tilting your chin up, even as heat pooled between your legs.

he sighed, shaking his head. “such a fucking brat.”

before you could come up with some smart remark, he was on you, pressing you down into the cushions, his large hand wrapping around your throat. your pulse jumped beneath his fingertips, and he smirked.

“look at you. already squirming. weren’t you just mouthing off a second ago?”

you gasped when his grip tightened just enough to make your head swim, his knee nudging between your thighs. “s-sir—”

“no.” he tutted, pressing his lips to your ear, voice silk and steel. “you don’t get to be sweet now. you wanted my attention, didn’t you?”

his fingers dragged up your thigh, slow and teasing. you clenched around nothing, desperate for more friction.

“oh, you’re already wet?” his chuckle was dark. humiliating. “of course you are. what would your mother think if she knew her sweet little girl was acting like a desperate whore for her stepfather?”

you whimpered as his fingers slipped beneath the hem of your shirt, brushing against your soaked cunt.

“what’s the matter, brat?” he mused, pressing a single finger to your clit, circling it lazily. “too dumb to talk now?”

you whined, hips bucking up, but he pulled back.

“use your words.”

“please,” you gasped, hands grabbing at his shirt, trying to pull him closer. “need you.”

his fingers dipped lower, teasing at your entrance. “need me to what?”

“fuck me.” the words came out embarrassingly desperate.

he laughed. “look at you. so eager. not so mouthy now, are you?”

then he pushed two fingers inside, and you nearly sobbed at how good it felt. he worked you open, curling them just right, his thumb rubbing slow circles against your clit. your thighs trembled.

“gonna cum already?” he mocked.

you nodded frantically, but he withdrew his fingers, leaving you empty.

“ah, ah.” he gripped your chin, forcing your dazed eyes to meet his. “you don’t get to cum yet, sweetheart. you wanted to act like a spoiled little brat? then you take what i give you.”

he unbuckled his belt, and your stomach fluttered.

you didn’t have the strength to be bratty anymore. you wanted to be ruined.

—

he had you exactly where he wanted you—spread out on his lap, naked and dripping, legs trembling from how long he’d been teasing you. two fingers shoved deep in your cunt, curling just right, but never enough to tip you over the edge. you were so sensitive, so fucking desperate, but every time you got close, he pulled away.

your swollen, ruined cunt clenched around nothing as he withdrew his fingers once again. you let out a little sob. “please—”

smack.

his hand came down hard against your bare thigh, sending a sharp jolt through your body. you gasped, thighs squeezing together, the sting only making you wetter.

he chuckled, running a finger over your throbbing clit. “look at you. getting off on being treated like a desperate little slut.”

“i—”

smack. another sharp slap, this time against your pussy, making you cry out.

“what was that?” he taunted, fingers rubbing slow, lazy circles around your entrance. “you love this, don’t you? ruining your family's perfect image, getting fucked like this by the man who's supposed to take care of you.”

you nodded frantically, thighs quivering. “yes—yes, sir.”

he hummed in approval. “now, beg.”

your pride burned, but your need was worse. “please,” you whimpered. “need you so bad. need your cock—”

his hand tangled in your hair, yanking your head back so your neck was bared to him. “you think you deserve my cock, sweetheart?” his voice was pure mockery, his free hand pressing against your soaked cunt, rubbing slow and mean.

“i’ll be good,” you gasped, writhing against him. “please, sir—need you to fill me up.”

his dark eyes flickered with something sharp. dangerous.

“you want to be bred that bad?” he purred, his thumb swiping through your slick folds, pressing against your entrance. “such a needy little thing. practically dripping onto my fucking trousers.”

you let out a choked moan as he spread you open with his fingers, stretching you out, but still not giving you what you needed.

“please,” you whimpered again, voice breaking. “please fuck me.”

he smirked. “you’re learning.”

then he was flipping you onto your stomach, pushing your face into the cushions, his palm pressing against the back of your neck to keep you there.

“stay still.”

you barely had time to catch your breath before he was shoving his cock inside you, stretching you so deep and full in one brutal thrust.

you screamed into the cushions, back arching, body jolting as he bottomed out, his thick length splitting you open.

“fuck,” tom growled, gripping your hips tight, his fingers bruising. “you’re so fucking tight—so wet for me, little one.”

he didn’t give you time to adjust. he fucked you, hard and ruthless, his cock slamming into you over and over, filling you to the hilt, every thrust forcing another moan from your lips.

his hand slid up, curling around your throat, squeezing just enough to make your head spin.

“mine,” he murmured against your ear, his hips snapping against yours, driving himself deeper. “you fucking belong to me.”

he pressed a kiss to your shoulder, fingers smoothing over your bruised skin.

“good girl,” he murmured, voice softer now. “you took me so well.”

but tom wasn’t done yet.

his fingers slid down between your legs, pressing against your abused cunt, pushing his cum deeper inside you.

your breath hitched.

he smirked.

“what’s the matter, little one?” his voice was pure sin. “you didn’t think we were finished, did you?”

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝

thank you for reading. reblogs & feedback appreciated.

[girllblogging777]

𝑠𝑙𝑦𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑛 𝑏𝑜𝑦𝑠 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑐𝑡 ༉‧₊˚.

↳ to the “heather” trend

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

𝑚𝑎𝑡𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑜 𝑟𝑖𝑑𝑑𝑙𝑒

☆ matt is a little cocky about the whole thing. when he realizes you want his sweater for the trend, he’ll make a big show of teasing you.

☆ “oh, so you’re one of those girls now, huh? fine, but if you’re wearing my sweater, everyone’s gonna know who you belong to."

☆ despite the teasing, he hands it over with a grin and won’t stop smirking every time he sees you in it. he might even demand a photo for “evidence.”

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑜𝑑𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑡

☆ theo is quiet but observant, so he’s already aware of the trend before you even mention it.

☆ he wordlessly hands it to you on december third with a soft smile. “it’s yours, amore. you know that, right?"

☆ he enjoys the understated intimacy of you wearing his clothes, and if anyone comments on it, he just gives them a knowing smirk.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

𝑙𝑜𝑟𝑒𝑛��𝑜 𝑏𝑒𝑟𝑘𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑟𝑒

☆ enzo is all for it, no hesitation. as soon as he hears about the trend, he’s practically throwing his sweater at you.

☆ "here, babe. take it! honestly, you should’ve asked sooner."

☆ he’s the type to brag to everyone about how good you look in his clothes, and he’ll probably try to convince you to keep it permanently. bonus points if he later steals it back just for fun.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

𝑑𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑜 𝑚𝑎𝑙𝑓𝑜𝑦

☆ draco is not a fan of trends, but when he realizes this one involves you wearing his sweater, he suddenly gets on board. he shrugs off his sweater and hands it to you, acting like it’s no big deal.

☆ "here. you might as well wear mine. can’t have people thinking you belong to someone else."

☆ he pretends to be indifferent, but seeing you in his sweater makes him proud, and he'll walk a little taller all day.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

𝑏𝑙𝑎𝑖𝑠𝑒 𝑧𝑎𝑏𝑖𝑛𝑖

☆ blaise catches on pretty quickly, though he pretends not to care at first. when he realizes you're expecting his sweater, he smirks, takes it off, and drapes it over your shoulders with a dramatic flair.

☆ "you didn’t have to start a trend just to get my sweater, love. but I’ll admit, you look better in it than I do."

☆ he makes it seem like he’s doing you a favor, but deep down, he loves how proud you look wearing it.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

a/n : happy december third everyone, here’s a sweater for you in honour of “heather” day !!! please like, comment & reblog <3

tell me if you wanna be added to the tag list ! @redeemingvillains @leona-hawthorne @shiftingwithmars @tateshifts @rose-of-the-grave @clar2aa @iris-qt @sp7-mr @deadghosy @deadsnakey @helendeath @jolly4holly @larmesdevanille @dexoq @shiftingwithleah @sunkissedscribbles @chelawrites @myunperfektstorys @yikesitslush @slut-for-fictional-men @romantasyreader28 @witchsrecs @mattiesgf @reidol0gy @kenjikishimotoswifey @2dloveshp @riddlesgrl @nottsangel-recs

[juliet-017]

Kisemis - T.R.

Prefect!academicrival!Tom Riddle x prefect!fem!reader

Minors dni!

Warnings: Dumbification?, oral m!reciving, throat fucking/deep throating, face slapping, hair pulling, begging?, exhibition, few uses of y/l/n, degradation, I tired to make it house neutral the best I could but it might allude or lean to diff houses with diff lines I write so apologies (+ Gryffindor bias), Let me know if I missed anything

Synopsis: Being a prefect whilst holding an academic rivalry with another is excruciating, constantly at eachothers throats, witty banter back and forth. Until one night you find yourselves alone, causing for new feelings to trickle in, only causing more anger and confusion.

a/n: I've been writing so many smuts so fast so I hope this one's up to par as well! Also first time writing oral so hopefully this is good! Also I might write a part two to this piece, it feels deserving plot wise. & apparently the title derived from homestruck, I am not in that fandom at all so uhm if anyone in it is problematic I am not apart of that!

Wc: ~2.3k

Part 1 Part 2

The library air was warm and dry, a strict contrast to the damp and cool air from the majority of the castle. You were exhausted, your third night in a row, having volunteered to take the spot of another prefect or two who were feeling unwell.

It was a mistake. A terrible mistake.

You took to sitting up against a table, leaning back against it, and closing your eyes. A chill runs up your spine, the feeling of being watched, unable to spot a person you blame it on a ghost.

Pushing off the table you continue your search, a faint glow from your wand illuminating the space ahead of you. Heading towards the restricted section first, deciding that most unruly students would take advantage of the night to explore those forbidden scrolls before even touching a book that's out in the open. Besides - most in the library after curfew would've fallen asleep whilst studying and they deserved some grace… right?

While heading deeper into the restricted section you hear whispers. Just one voice.

The aroma of sandalwood and spices hits you, alongside a woodsy scent. The signature scent belonging to none other than Tom Riddle. It's easy to hate how fast you pinned that. Hesitantly, you linger around a bookcase, trying to figure out if he's alone or scolding a student.

“Show yourself,” He speaks up before you can even make a decision, wondering how he heard you. “I know you're there so might as well make it easy on yourself.”

With a breath - as if you can get in trouble for patrolling - you round the corner. “Ah, y/l/n, on patrol duty again tonight are you?”

“Couldn't say the same for you, Riddle. I’d’ve thought you'd be busy catching up on your beauty sleep.” You snub, crossing your arms and glaring up at him.

“Hm, could say the same for you. You need it after all.” He hums coldly, his usual smirk playing on his lips. “Now go on, I'm sure you have a student to catch and scold.”

“Well, I’d like to know what you were doing yourself, Riddle. Can't you study in your dorm?” You retort, taking on a quizzical look while approaching him, ignoring the butterflies in your stomach. You blame them on anxiety, after all, he has a few inches on you and his way to stock for your liking. Emotionless, to put it simply.

“Well, I could, but here's the fun in that?” He replies, almost amused in his tone as he closes the book when you get closer, sliding it into his bag. “There's no risk in that.”

You eye the book as he bags it, brows furrowing. It's stupid to question him, he’ll just lie, or tell you to shove him off. But what's the harm in trying? “What were you reading?”

“Oh please, like I'd still you.” He scoffs, rolling his eyes and putting the strap of his bag on his shoulder as if to depart.

“Did I say you could go anywhere?” You ask, voice sharp as if you're scolding a first-year. You immediately regret it, but decide that there's no going back now. “I'm the prefect on duty tonight, not you.”

Tom's brows raise, shaking his head and chuckling in amusement as he sets the bag back down. “Well looks like someone decided to be a bit brave tonight.” He remarks, looking you over like a piece of meat.

It makes you squirm.

“Did a Professor even give you permission to come in here?” You press, tilting your head to the side, deciding to just fake it. Hoping that feigning enough bravery will give you some.

“Like you'd actually tell Slughorn I'm in here.” He drawls, swiftly moving and standing right in front of you, forcing you to tilt your head back. “Go on, love,” he taunts. “go on and tell old Sluggy.”

Your expression sours, trying to figure out how to word your response. “I won't be telling him, because you have him wrapped around your finger. I can go straight to Dippet, you know.”

“Oh but you wouldn't do that, would you now?” He presses, reaching back and coiling some of your hair around his finger. “You know that I have the majority of the faculty in my favor.” He hums.

You glare ignoring how the proximity makes you shift, how him playing with your hair makes you want to either push him and run away or drop to your knees and-

“Got you there, didn't I y/l/n?” He taunts, an amused huff escaping him.

“No. I'm just..” You start, biting your lip momentarily. “Am I not allowed to bide time?” You ask rhetorically, trying to keep up the farce. “After all if I won't be getting an answer to my question I should be allowed to give all the silence I want. So what were you doing?”

“Studying.” He hums, tugging on the strand slightly. You wonder if he does this with.. everyone, or something like this to manipulate people, make them unsteady and easy to guide.

“Studying what?”

“None of your business.”

“C’mon, I'm just curious.”

“You just love sticking your nose in everyone's business, don't you?”

“I just want to know what you're studying for Riddle. Is it the next Herbology exam? Perhaps arthrithmaticy, or potions?” You blabber, knowing damn well what you're doing but enjoying pushing his buttons, watching him tick, drawing actual emotion out of him. “Am I not allowed to ask questions?”

Quickly, his hand goes to the back of your head, grappling your hair tightly. “No. But you should learn when to shut your mouth.” He growls, towering over you with ease.

You flinch, looking at him with wide eyes, trying to ignore the fire in your lower abdomen. Your throat runs dry, you have half the mind to come up with an excuse to flee.

“What are you doing out alone anyways? Prefects are supposed to patrol in groups.. aren't they?” He tsks, looking down at you and taking in your expression.

“Hughes said it would be faster this way,” You reply quietly, a whisper, looking anywhere but at his face.

“Eyes on me.” He grumbles, his free hand grabbing your cheeks and squishing them together, demanding eye contact. “Who would've known it just took this to shut you up.”

“You just caught me off guard,” You reply, words muffled, barely audible.

“Hm, what was that?” He taunts, letting go of your cheeks, his hand moving to your shoulder as he forces you down. You resist for a moment before the pull on your hair burns to a point that you have to comply. “Couldn't hear you while thinking about my cock down your throat.”

And that? Perfect, cold, calculating, Tom Riddle talking about fucking you? That shut you up even more, looking up at him with wide eyes as you try to think of a response, a slick growing between your thighs.

“You like the thought of that, don't you? Putting your mouth to better use?” He continues mockingly, unbuckling his belt and looking down at you, his eyes searching for an answer.

You nod, looking up at him, tempted to just undo his trousers yourself. “Please,” You murmur, looking up through your lashes.

Brows raised he huffs, undoing his trousers with his free hand, pulling his boxers down as well. His cock already hard, slapping his lower abdomen. Tom strokes himself, only making himself harder as he looks down at you. “Open, tongue out.” He instructs, watching you with a hungry gaze.

You comply, pathetically soaked at how he's treating you, looking up at him as he taps his tip on your tongue. Tasing his salty precum before he pushes into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat and making you gag.

He starts with a steady pace, using a table to support him as he takes to fucking your throat, using his leverage and grip on your hair to hold you still while he thrusts. “Throat’s so bloody tight,” He groans, stalling and holding your nose up tight against his pelvis, making you gag before going back to his former thrusting motion. “You look so much prettier with my cock down it.”

You groan around his cock in protest.. or maybe pleasure, brain desperate for oxygen. Tom’s thrusts grow sloppier, desperate. It's almost worth the oxygen deprivation and occasional degrading comments. He speeds up again, his expression contorted, the lewd sounds of your gagging and his frowning filling the library.

You're shocked when he pulls out of your mouth, having thought he'd make you swallow every last drop. The shock subsides when he cums on your face, the thick white substance covering your cheek, running down slowly and dripping onto your robes.

“What the fuck, Riddle!” You hiss, voice a bit dead from the assault on your larynx. “This is brand new!”

A slap to your face shuts you up, making you whine. “Need me to fuck your face again? Clearly, I didn't do it well enough if you're still running your mouth.” He asks, tugging your hair. “Maybe I should, after all, Hughes doesn't seem to care about his fellow prefect's safety.”

“I told you, I agreed-” Tom takes his chances, pressing his tip against your lip when you speak.

“There's better uses for that mouth than witless conversation.” He spats, tapping his cock on your lip prompting you to open it.

You comply, feeling him fuck your throat even harsher, this time making it more painful by bobbing your head with no regard. “Look at you, such a good girl when it comes to cock.” He praises mockingly, speeding up as you gag and choke, finishing in your mouth this time. “Swallow,” He instructs, slowly pulling out of your mouth while watching you do so.

You comply, swallowing it all, looking up at him and not daring to speak. This time, Tom pulls you up harshly by your hair, pinning you up against a bookshelf. His chest to your back, he delivers wet kisses to your neck.

Whining at the sensation you wiggle your hips backward, chasing some pleasure, and Tom complies just enough. Reaching around his hand travels under your skirt to toy with your clothed clit, feeling your wetness through your panties. “Look at you, finally shutting up, all dumb from my cock, aren't you?”

You nod weakly, moaning softly whilst feeling your underwear being pulled down, pooling at your ankles. “Should've thought of this sooner.” He mutters, palming himself before teasing your entrance, growing hard once more. With one slow thrust, he pushes into you, making you feel as if you're being split in two, grabbing onto a self on the bookcase.

You barely have time to adjust before he sets a ruthless pace, a bruising grip on your hips as he thrusts in and out of you reducing you to a moaning and whimpering mess.

“Look at you, finally shutting your mouth. Being such a good slut,” He grunts into your ear, biting at your neck now.

“I hate you.” You whine, the old bookcase shaking as he continues his assault on your cervix.

He scoffs, reaching around with one hand to lightly hold your throat, the other bracing himself on the bookcase. “Sure didn't feel like it when you were letting me use your throat, and she doesn't feel like it now. All wet and willing.” He spats, quickening his pace.

A book falls, and you whine and make a weak attempt at an escape, ceasing when you realize how trapped you are. “What? Scared someone's going to hear? That a ghost or the librarian is going to pop around the corner?” He taunts, continuing.

You curse the bookshelf for being so old and weak as another one falls, moans escaping you as Tom picks up the pace as if willing someone or something to hear and investigate. You dig your nails into the wood, desperate as you start to rock your own hips, meeting his own in an attempt to get more pleasure. “Greedy girl,” Tom chastises, his hand that was previously on your neck traveling down to draw circles on your clit.

“Gonna cum on my cock,” Tom pants out, you're not sure if it's a question or a demand but you nod anyway. The circles become messier, heat forming in your lower abdomen as you start to clench around him.

Before you know it white hot pleasure courses through you, knees buckling slightly as your hips weakly still rut. Shortly after, Tom finishes as well, cumming deep inside of your walls, panting.You barely register your ankles being lifted, feet moved.

You look around, noticing the books that fell, shame coming to your face when you realize what just happened. Who you were just with. Quickly you turn around to look at him. “You bastard, Tom Riddle, you-” You start, walking towards him as he heads back to his bag.

He stops turning and glaring at you, smirking, eyes shimmering with amusement. “What. Are you upset I showed you the night of your life?”

You open your mouth to argue before he hushes you. “I'd be careful with your words, doll. Last thing you want is for your throat to be even more raw tomorrow.”

You cross your arms, pouting. “Now if you'll excuse me I have to get to my dorm. Some of us value our sleep.” He remarks before brushing last you to leave.

You sulk for a moment, trying to figure out what just happened. How you let it happen. It's not till you're actually settling your robes to depart and continue patrolling till you realize you're missing something.

The prick took your underwear.

Edit: uhm okay so this fic is blowing UP anyways if you want tagged for future parts please comment so! Thank you so so much for all the support!! 🩷

[iamgonnagetyouback]

Hiiii! May i have 🍂 Enemies to lover trope with Tom riddle please? (possible hufflepuff reader where she's the opposite of Tom, cheerful, sweet, she's naive, but snaps at him one day because she's tired of him being passive agressive.. if that makes sense) thank you so much my love!

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ⠀────۶ৎ bubbling emotions

synopsis: you finally snap at tom riddle in potions class, tired of his constant belittling—only to find yourself confronted by him afterward. but instead of more cruelty, he offers something unexpected: respect content warnings: emotional distress, reader overwhelmed author's note: hey angel ♡ thank you so much for requesting! <3

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ᡣ𐭩 words.ᐟ 1,137

A soft sigh escaped your lips as you tucked the letter from your parents into your robes, trying your best to push the weight of its words aside. They meant well, you knew that, but it didn't stop the sting from settling in your chest. Your brother was always the top of his class. We expect nothing less from you.

You bit your lip, blinking rapidly to keep the tears at bay as you made your way to Potions class. You had always been the type to keep a smile on your face, to greet everyone with a cheerful demeanor—even when things felt overwhelming. But today… today was different.

As you slipped into the classroom, you spotted your potions partner: Tom Riddle. His sharp gaze flickered toward you briefly before returning to the textbook in front of him. His usual cold and indifferent expression never wavered.

Great. Of all days…

Professor Slughorn began the class, instructing everyone to pair up and begin the day’s assignment—a tricky potion that required precision and teamwork. You glanced at Tom, hoping for some semblance of civility between the two of you. But of course, it didn’t take long before his usual comments began.

“You do know dragon blood isn’t part of this, right?” Tom’s voice dripped with sarcasm as he watched you with narrowed eyes, clearly unimpressed by your every move.

You gave a forced smile, trying to maintain your usual upbeat attitude. “I know that, Tom.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying how much he was getting under your skin. “And those roots—don’t chop them. Crush them. Honestly, do you even pay attention in class, or are you too busy making friends with everyone?”

Your hands trembled as you crushed the roots, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. Not today, not today, you chanted in your head, trying to keep calm. But he just kept going.

“I don’t know why Professor Slughorn keeps pairing us together,” Tom muttered. “It’s clear you’re more suited to Herbology than Potions. Or perhaps Charms—something simple enough for a—”

“Enough!” You slammed the pestle down onto the table, your voice shaking with emotion. “I’ve had enough of your stupid comments, Tom!”

"I’ve had enough of you!" you burst out, voice breaking. "I might be cheerful and positive, but that doesn’t mean I’m weak. I’ve been trying my best, and you—" You jabbed a finger at his chest, "you don’t get to tell me what I am!"

Tom blinked, momentarily taken aback. It was rare for anyone to stand up to him, let alone you—the ever-smiling, ever-naive Hufflepuff. But you weren’t finished.

"You think you know everything, don’t you? You think being cold and calculating makes you superior, but guess what? Being kind takes strength too. And maybe if you weren’t so consumed by your own darkness, you’d see that!"

The room went silent, every student turning to look at you. Even Professor Slughorn paused in his lecture, his eyes wide with surprise. You never yelled. You were the happy, positive one. The sweet Hufflepuff who always had a kind word for everyone. But now, the tears you had been holding back were threatening to spill over.

Tom stared at you, a flicker of something unreadable passing over his face. But he quickly masked it with his usual disdain.

Without another word, you grabbed your bag and stormed out of the classroom, ignoring the whispers that followed you. The second you were out of sight, you let the tears fall, your pace quickening as you hurried through the empty halls.

You had tried so hard. Your parents' expectations, your constant need to prove yourself, and then Tom—the boy who always seemed to find a way to belittle everything you did. It was too much. You couldn’t take it anymore.

You found yourself in an empty corridor, leaning against the cold stone wall as you tried to steady your breathing. The tears still flowed, but you didn’t care. For once, you let yourself feel the weight of everything.

“Running away isn’t going to fix your mistakes.”

You turned to see Tom standing a few feet away, his arms crossed over his chest, that same infuriating smirk on his face. How had he found you so quickly?

“Leave me alone, Tom,” you whispered, wiping at your eyes.

“Why should I?” he replied, taking a step closer. “You’re the one who stormed out like a child.”

Your temper flared again, and you shot him a glare. “Because I can’t stand you!” The words came out harsher than you intended, but they were true. “You think you’re better than everyone else. You constantly belittle me, make me feel like I’m useless, and I’m tired of it!”

For the first time, Tom’s smirk faltered. He took another step toward you, his voice quieter this time. “You’re not useless.”

You blinked, surprised by his sudden change in tone. “What?”

Tom’s jaw clenched as if he was struggling with what to say next. “You’re… infuriatingly cheerful, yes. And naive. But…” He paused, his dark eyes locking with yours. “But you’re not useless.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. This was not the Tom Riddle you were used to—the one who constantly mocked you.

“I only criticize you because you could be better,” he continued, his voice low. “You have potential, but you waste it on trivial things.”

Your brow furrowed in confusion. “So, what? You’ve been insulting me because… you think I have potential?”

Tom let out a frustrated sigh. “You’re not as dull as the rest of them. That’s all I’m saying.”

You stared at him, unsure of how to respond. The tension between the two of you was palpable, the air thick with unspoken emotions. You could still feel the sting of his words from earlier, but there was something else there now—something softer, almost vulnerable.

“Tom…”

Before you could say anything else, he stepped closer, his gaze intense. “I don’t hate you. But your optimism—it’s infuriating.”

You let out a small laugh, despite everything. “I’ve noticed.”

There was a long pause as the two of you stood there, the silence between you heavy but not uncomfortable anymore. Finally, Tom spoke again, his voice softer than before.

“Perhaps… I could tolerate it. Your cheerfulness.”

Your eyes widened in surprise. Was he—was this Tom Riddle trying to make peace with you?

“And maybe,” you replied, a small smile tugging at your lips, “I could tolerate your endless criticisms.”

Tom’s lips twitched into the faintest hint of a smile, and for a moment, you thought you saw a glimmer of something warmer in his cold demeanor.

“Well then,” he said quietly, “it seems we’ve come to an understanding.”

You nodded, the weight on your chest finally lifting just a little. Maybe things between the two of you weren’t so hopeless after all.

© iamgonnagetyouback ⋆.˚ please do not copy, translate, or repost any of my work.

[glowinstone]

Your Tom Riddles Girlfriend

a head cannon that makes you giggle

ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ tom who always is squeezing your thigh or ass any chance he gets. He quite literally has to be touching you at all times. Your his lifeline

ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ tom who will kiss you good night every night but it’s not really a kiss… it’s a full on make out and his hand is always somehow on your neck…

ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ tom who shows his love by getting into fights for you… he knows you secretly love seeing blood on him despite your protests. Having a man who fights for you is somewhat… hot.

ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ tom who has a hand on the back of your neck as you walk through the halls. To class, to the library, to meals, and hell yeah even to hogsmead. You love when he takes control and you’re definitely not shy about it.

ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ tom who buys you everything because he loves seeing you in items he’s bought. He likes knowing your taken care of and he absolutely loves spoiling you. And fine, he likes everyone knowing your his and his only.

ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ tom who quite literally hates everyone besides you and no one understands how or why. He doesn’t either and that’s the one thing he’s fine with.

ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ tom who has maybe-just a little bit- corrupted you and now your his favorite dark witch who he’d get on his knees for. You two are going to rule the world some day…

ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ tom who hexes anyone and any boy who even slightly looks in your direction. He does this when you’re angry at him for getting in fights.

ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ tom who at this point doesn’t leave your side.. and maybe your okay with that…

︵‿୨♱୧‿︵

Yes another tom riddle blurb because i love a toxic man who is obsessed with his girl. SUE ME

[darkmarkmarauder]

Only Good Girls Get to Cum - T.R.

!warning!minorsdni, mature content, heavy bdsm

Pairing: Husband!Tom Riddle x Wife!Reader

Teasing your husband during dinner was a mistake. You knew it the moment you felt his sharp gaze on you, the silent warning in his eyes. Tom Riddle is not a man to be disrespected—not in public, and certainly not in private. Unfortunately for you, some lessons need to be learned twice.

The moment the heavy wooden doors shut behind you, sealing the two of you away from the rest of the world, you knew you were in trouble.

Tom hadn’t spoken a word since dinner, but his silence had been deafening. You’d seen the way his fingers twitched when you ran your foot up his leg beneath the table. The way his jaw clenched when you whispered filth into his ear between courses. The flicker of something dark in his eyes when you sucked your dessert off your spoon just a little too slowly.

Now, standing in the dimly lit bedroom, you finally had his full attention.

“I do hope you enjoyed yourself tonight, my love.” His voice was smooth, dangerously calm as he shrugged off his outer robe, draping it over the chair beside the fireplace. “You put on quite the show.”

You tilted your head, feigning innocence, though your pulse quickened when he took a step closer. “I don’t know what you mean.”

His lips curled into something that was not quite a smile. “No?”

Faster than you could react, his hand was around your throat, pressing you back against the wall. He didn’t squeeze—yet—but the weight of his palm was enough to send a delicious shiver down your spine.

“You forget often, my wife” he murmured, his thumb dragging along the column of your throat. “I allow you freedom. I indulge you. But you will not embarrass me in front of my men.”

You wet your lips, your breath coming in short gasps. “I think you liked it,” you whispered, watching his pupils darken. “I think you enjoy punishing me just as much as I enjoy provoking you.”

His grip tightened for just a second—a warning—before he let go entirely.

“On the bed,” he ordered.

You hesitated, just to test him, and in an instant, he had you spun around, your cheek pressed against the wooden post of the bed. His hand came down sharply across your ass, the sound cracking through the air. You gasped, the sting blooming through your skin.

“I said,” he growled, his voice dangerously low, “on the bed.”

You obeyed, crawling onto the mattress, heart pounding. Tom was not a man who tolerated disobedience, and you had spent the entire night pushing him. You knew exactly what was coming.

He stood at the edge of the bed, rolling up the sleeves of his crisp white shirt, exposing the veins in his forearms. His wand was in his hand, twirling between his fingers, and with a lazy flick, invisible bindings wrapped around your wrists, securing them to the headboard.

The vulnerability sent a fresh wave of heat through you.

Tom climbed onto the bed, kneeling between your parted thighs. His hand smoothed over your hip before delivering another sharp slap to your ass. You gasped, your back arching involuntarily.

“Tell me, my love,” he mused, his fingers trailing up your spine. “Did you think I wouldn’t make you pay for your little performance tonight?”

You bit your lip, but the smirk playing at your mouth betrayed you. “I was hoping you would.”

He chuckled, dark and indulgent. “Oh, I know.”

Without warning, his fingers pressed between your thighs, feeling the slick evidence of your anticipation. He hummed in approval, his other hand gripping your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“That's my girl” he murmured, sliding two fingers into your mouth, pressing against your tongue. 

You sucked on his fingers, letting your tongue swirl around them, watching the way his eyes darkened, his breath coming just a fraction sharper.

Then, just as suddenly, he pulled his fingers from your mouth and entered them inside you. The stretch made you let out a whimpered moan, your body jerking against the restraints. He set a punishing pace, curling his fingers just right, his thumb pressing against your most sensitive spot.

Your head fell back against the pillows, a desperate moan slipping from your lips. “Tom—”

His hand wrapped around your throat again, pressing down just enough to make you focus. “Try again.”

“My Lord,” you gasped, the title tasting like surrender on your tongue.

He smirked, leaning down until his lips brushed against your ear. “Good girl.”

Without warning, his mouth was on you, hot and unrelenting. He licked a stripe up your core before sealing his lips against you, sucking with a wicked precision that made your entire body jolt. Your legs trembled, pulling against your restraints, but there was no escape—not from him, not from the overwhelming pleasure he forced upon you.

“You’re so responsive,” he murmured against you, dragging his tongue through your slick folds. “So needy for me.”

Before you could even catch your breath, Tom moved, lifting you effortlessly. Your legs wrapped around his waist on instinct, his strong arms locking you in place as he pressed you against the wall.

And with that, he fucked you—hard, deep, ruthlessly—the way he bounces you, shifting his grip to adjust as he starts to move, has you gasping. With every upward thrust, you can feel his cock filling you completely. 

You can feel his breath on your skin, his lips close to your ear, his voice rough with desire. "Look at you," he growls, tightening his grip on your waist as he shifts, bouncing you harder, faster. His eyes trace the way your body moves, the way your tits bounce with each thrust, and it’s driving him insane. He can barely keep his composure, the way your skin trembles beneath his hands, the way your hair falls in disarray, clinging to your flushed face, only heightening the urgency in his every motion.

His lips brush against your ear, his voice low and filled with raw desire. "You’re so fucking tight." he groans. 

His grip on you tightens, and the intensity of his thrusts deepens, his cock hitting you in just the right spot. Every movement has you gasping, your body riding him with desperation.

Your head tilts back, lips parting on a breathless moan. “i-i’m gonna cum.” 

The pressure builds, hot and overwhelming, your head tipping back against the wall as he picks up the pace, each bounce rougher, deeper. The coil inside you winds tighter, his name slipping past your lips like a desperate prayer. He feels it—the way you clench around his warm cock. And just when you think you might fall, he growls against your ear, voice dripping with command.

"Only Good Girls Get to Cum."

Pulling out, he sets you in front of him on your knees. His cock hard and wet from penetrating you. You would've been angry, furious even but it was clear to you this was your punishment. 

When you finally take him into your mouth, he exhales a low, satisfied groan, his fingers tangling into your hair as he guides your movements.

The weight of him on your tongue, the way he controls every inch of you, the soft, ragged sounds of pleasure he makes as you hollow your cheeks—it’s almost enough to make you forget your own denied release. Almost.

He thrusts deeper, fingers tightening in your hair, and when he finally comes undone, his pleasure painted across your lips and you licked them clean. 

The way he looks down at you—dark eyes flashing with ownership, jaw tight with restraint—sends a fresh wave of arousal pooling in your stomach.

"Enough games," he growls, before effortlessly lifting you further up, your legs instinctively tightening around him. He turns, the distant sound of running water reaches your ears as he carries you towards the shower. His eyes never leave yours—dark, intense, and full of hunger.

"Time for round two," he whispers, his lips curling into that smug, dangerous smile. "And this time, I’m not going to be so patient."

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

a/n: father forgive me for I have sinned

LMAO but srsly tho.. anyways hope u enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed writing it. <3

ᴅɪᴠɪᴅᴇʀ ᴄʀᴇᴅ: @ꜱᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇʀɢʀᴀᴘʜɪᴄꜱ

MASTERLIST

[nottswitch]

⋆˙⟡♡ VENUS IN SCORPIO

venus in scorpio keeps their walls up at all times, not letting anyone past the cold, unfeeling facade. but beyond the mask lie raw passion and power. if a scorpio venus lets you in, but you end up toying with their emotions instead, you can expect yourself to end up on the receiving end of their… displeasure.

tom riddle x reader

warnings: 18+ mdni, brat taming, face slapping, choking, hints at oral (m receiving)

nav // event / more

"on your knees."

"no."

you stand defiantly, arms crossed on your chest as you regard tom with narrowed eyes. you see the slight clench in his jaw, and the little movement fills you with pride. it’s not often that he reacts to all the bullshit you seem to be constantly pulling, but this time, you might’ve gone too far – and you’re enjoying it far too much for your own good.

"i could make you," he says calmly, raising a perfectly arched eyebrow, yet there’s an undeniable strain to his voice. no one else would notice, but you’ve known tom for far too long not to. "i will make you."

you scoff, lifting up your chin to look more confident, even though tom’s intense gaze is doing a great job at pinning you down. "you can try."

tom doesn’t have to be asked twice. with two long strides, he walks up to you, his eyes flicking up and down your body for a split second. next thing you know, his hand is wrapped around your throat, fingers tightly curling into your tender flesh as he tugs you down. your knees give out without much resistance, roughly thumping against the floor – would’ve hurt more, but a rug provides a cushion.

"you just love being a brat, don’t you?"

your breath gets stuck in your throat as you take a sharp inhale, yet your defiance doesn’t seem to fade away just yet. you look up, taking in tom’s features, pulled together in a small scowl. good, you think, you’re getting a reaction.

"how did you know?" you ask, letting a smirk tug at the corner of your lips – you just know it will irritate him more, which is exactly what you want.

tom tilts his head to the side a bit, bringing his free hand to your face. his thumb glides over your bottom lip, the gesture almost tender, before it’s suddenly pulled away. a sharp slap lands on your cheek, but his hand on your throat doesn’t let your head fall to the side. you hiss, biting your lip to stifle a sound, but the effect can’t be ignored – heat starts coiling low in your stomach, and you clench your thighs together, searching for friction.

"stop that." tom’s foot shifts, pressing at your knee to stop your legs from getting any closer to each other. you try again, but his stance is firm, his foot firmly on the floor, unmoving. his fingers dig further into your neck, tugging you closer to his crotch. you can see the bulge that’s starting to form there, and a smirk is back on your lips, your eyelashes fluttering as you look up at him again.

"what if i don’t?" you ask, your voice just a little shaky, just a little treacherous of your own arousal. tom’s expression doesn’t change, but you can feel his hand moving before his palm connects with your cheek again, leaving a budding yet strangely pleasant sting in its wake.

"then i’ll make you. over and over again."

[shyamanuensis]

arguments - t.r

Arguments with Tom aren’t uncommon. In fact; they’re almost a daily occurrence. The both of you rather stubborn. Head strong. Obstinate. Not ever wanting to back down – because that would be proof of weakness – a word not in your vocabularies. There’s a sick pleasure you both take in riling each other up. Eyes locked, lips pulling into subtle smirks whenever one takes a jab at the other. Satisfaction? No, neither of you do it for satisfaction; this little cat and mouse game of ‘who can outdo the other’ has its own advantages. For Tom mainly. Which well – let’s be honest, it isn’t fair; but you’re not one to really complain about it. When the last student has been dismissed from class – when the corridors are empty; that’s when he strikes. You should be meeting up with your friends, with your boyfriend, to study but no… Tom has you bent over the closest desk the two of you can manage to find. Wrists pinned painfully low against your back. Skirt lifted; panties slid to the side – he fucks you senseless; no rhyme, no reason, no restraint. You go from talking back to being a wet nonverbal whimpering mess whos knees go weak; eyes roll – the perfect little fuck doll. “Good girl.” “You take it so well.” “You like that huh?” “Just wait until I’m done with you.” Each phrase earns little more than a choked mewl. You try your hardest to catch your breath; knowing that once he’s done with your cunt, that pretty cock of his will be ramming down the back of your throat and you begin to salivate at the idea. Cheeks blushing a harsh pink; same colour as your ass when he spanks you. Yeah – Tom will let you argue with him any day – every fucking day. only because he knows he can use it to his advantage. ((MDNI))

[mistress-riddle]

tom’s confused when you approach him at the end of the year during his moment of rest before the school repopulates with the students coming back for the second term of the year. you’re giddy, smile wide on your glowy face, hands behind your back as you walk with a pep in your step and he puts down his book with a sigh to greet you properly.

“[name], what can i do for you?” he asks with a polite smile.

you press your lips together in contemplation before presenting him with a box “i made you a little something.”

curiosity blooms in him and he uncrosses his leg, leaning forward as looks at the box “is that so?” he hums “what’s the occasion? christmas was last week you know.”

“yes i’m aware.” you purse your lips at his slightly snarky remark and push the box further towards him to hold in his hand “it’s just a little something i put together, here you go!”

you place it in his unoccupied extended hand, the other holding the book to keep his page marked when your fingers linger slightly as they brush past his skin and you feel heat rise up to your ears so you retract your hands and clear your throat.

“anyway, i’ve got some things i need to do, bye!” you quickly turn around and head out. toms expression remains questioning as his head shifts from following your retreating figure to the cute blue box you’ve placed in his hold.

a tiny warmth which feels somewhat like excitement blossoms in tom as he stares at the box, placing the book on the seat, he opens the box on his lap and stares at the cake with writing that says

“happy 18th birthday, tom <3”

he realises you’ve given him a victoria sponge style cake and he lets out a little chuckle of disbelief. his eyes notice the note, he pulls it out to read.

i’m not a stalker, just observant (it’s the dessert i’ve seen you eat the most).

happy birthday riddle, i hope you have a good one.

— yours truly,

[name]

he catches a whiff of your perfume lingering on the letter and a lipstick mark on the back which elicits an involuntary smirk from him.

[riddleswhcre]

.ᐟ just thinking about tom whispering sweet things

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝

“you don’t even know what you do to me, do you?” his voice is quiet, just above a whisper, but there’s a rasp to it, the kind that makes it impossible not to listen.

you’re curled against him, your face half-buried in the pillow, your back pressed against his chest, one of his arms wrapped firmly around your waist. his other hand brushes against your back, slow and deliberate, like he’s tracing patterns only he understands.

he shifts a little closer, his nose brushing against the side of your neck, warm and soft. “you’re always so oblivious,” he murmurs, his lips grazing your skin just barely as he speaks. “do you even realise what it does to me? the way you look at me like i could give you the world… like i’m anything close to deserving of you.”

his hand moves lower, resting against the curve of your hip, holding you in place like he’s worried you might disappear. for someone so composed, so untouchable, there’s a quiet desperation in the way he holds you now—like this is the only time he lets himself unravel, where no one else can see.

“you make me soft,” he admits, his tone dropping lower. “and i hate it.” there’s no malice in the words, though. if anything, there’s something almost bitter in how he says it, like he can’t decide if loving you is his greatest weakness or his greatest strength.

you fight the urge to move, to respond, to let him know you’re awake, but something tells you he wouldn’t say any of this if he thought you could hear.

his lips press lightly against your shoulder, lingering like he’s waiting for the world to collapse beneath him. “but i’d take it, you know. all of it. every soft, pathetic part of me… as long as it means i get to keep you.”

for a moment, he doesn’t move, his head resting against you, his breath warm on your neck. then, just as you think he’s done, he whispers, softer now, “mine,” and presses a kiss to the back of your neck. it’s fleeting, barely there, but it sends something down your spine all the same.

he shifts again, pulling you even closer, and for the first time tonight, he seems at ease. you stay still, heart racing, and wonder what he’d do if he knew.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝

𓏲 ࣪₊ ❥ 𓂃 more

soft tom has me in a chokehold rn. thank you for reading. reblogs & feedback appreciated.

[girllblogging777]

𝐹𝑅𝐼𝐺𝐻𝑇 𝐴𝑁𝐷 𝐹𝐿𝐼𝑅𝑇𝐴𝑇𝐼𝑂𝑁

↳ mattheo riddle x fem!reader (best friends, flirting)

↳ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡 : 1.4k

𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦 : exploring a haunted house isn’t very pleasant… except when your flirty best friend mattheo is with you.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

you never should’ve let the boys convince you to sneak out after curfew.

the slytherin common room had been buzzing with energy earlier, filled with laughter and stories about the supposedly haunted house at the border of the forbidden forest. you’d been reading your book, half listening to what your friends were saying as they argued about whether or not they believed in these rumours, or if it was just another one of the castle’s unsolved mysteries.

“it’s not even that far,” theo had said casually, grinning. “we’ll be back before anyone notices.” and of course, you didn’t wanna be the only one to back out. not when you were the only girl in the group, always trying to prove yourself to them. not when you wanted to keep that confident and fierce image you had. and especially not when mattheo riddle was watching you with that usual smirk of his, his dark eyes practically daring you to say no.

✩✩✩✩

so here you were tonight, standing outside some old crumbling building that once had been called a house. the full moon hung high in the sky, casting eerie shadows around you and the boys. the air was colder here too, sending shivers down your back and under the knitted sweater you were wearing. but, of course, you weren’t gonna let anyone know that.

enzo and blaise were already thrilled when they pushed open the door, making plans and chatting excitedly about the little nighttime adventure you were having. draco and theo strode confidently behind them, following them inside and leaving you standing next to mattheo, who was staring at you with crossed arms, looking calmer than you’d even seen him.

“scared yet ?” he asked, his voice low and teasing. you rolled your eyes and scoffed, pretending you didn’t notice the way your heart rate sped up - from the alluring boy or the frightening house next to you, that you didn’t know. “please. this place is barely standing. the only thing i’m worried about is the roof caving in.”

he chuckled at your answer and leaned closer “don’t worry. if it does, i’ll protect you.”

your stomach flipped, and this time you knew it had nothing to do with whatever ghosts were inside that house. the brunette boy was the only human being who had such an effect on you, and you hated it. “ghosts be damned,” you muttered, shaking your head as you followed the others inside. “i don’t need your protection.”

“that we’ll see, love” mattheo said behind you, barely above a whisper.

inside, the house was somehow creepier than you’d imagined. there was dust everywhere, and when the floor creaked beneath your steps, you understood why all these rumours had been invented in the first place. despite the darkness, you could see the faded paintings on the wall, following you as you walked down the narrow hallway. at some point you could’ve sworn one of the figures on the portraits moved, but when you turned to look at it, nothing.

a couple of feet away, blaise was laughing at something draco had said, but you were too busy scanning the dark corners of the house to listen to their conversation. theo was already taking about splitting up, which of course, only managed to make the anxiety tighten in your chest.

“everyone, make groups !” the boys declared, clearly excited and proud of their idea. “makes it more fun”

before you could protest, mattheo was at your side again. you’d been hyper aware of his presence behind you for the past couple of minutes, and now there he was, grinning down at you as your shoulders brushed. “well, looks like we’re partners, then.” you shot him a look. “convenient.”

“hey, you’ll thank me later,” he said with a wink, and it took everything in you not to make another sarcastic remark. still, you couldn’t help but feel a little relieved now, knowing you wouldn’t walk through this scary place alone.

the two of you silently ventured down another hallway, away from where the others were heading. the floorboards creaked with every step you took, the shadows of your tall figures stretching out against the wall as you moved deeper into the house. it was unnervingly quiet, but the sound of mattheo’s steady breaths and confident footsteps reassured you a little.

the brown eyed boy glanced at you, his pupils gleaming with amusement. “you’re quiet, getting nervous ?” you muttered a barely audible “i’m fine” though you couldn’t ignore the quickening of your pulse. you hated haunted places, or even darkness in general, but you’d rather get crucio-ed than admit that to him.

he moved closer, his warm breath hitting your neck, and you found yourself unconsciously leaning towards him when he spoke, “you can hold my hand if you get scared.” you glared at him, grateful the obscurity of the scene hid the blush on your cheek, “in your dreams.”

he laughed softly but he didn’t push it, still, his presence was oddly comforting. it made you feel a little less like something was about to jump out from the shadows, and a little more like you wanted him even closer.

somehow, the air in the house seemed to grow colder the further you walked. every once in a while, you’d hear something : a creak, a whisper, maybe just the wind, but it sets your nerves on edge.

suddenly, a loud bang echoed from one of the rooms down the hall and you jumped, grabbing mattheo’s arm without even thinking. your heart raced, and you cursed under your breath when you realised what had just happened.

“told you” he said, a grin slowly spreading across his face as he looked down at where your hand gripped his hand. you scowled, quickly letting go. “that was just instinct.” still smiling, he nodded “sure, sure…” but then his gaze softened, and his voice dropped. “don’t worry, i’ve got you.”

something in his tone made your breath catch, and for a second, you forgot where you were. the haunted house, the cold, the creepy portraits, all of it faded as you stared up at him, trying to figure out if he was being serious or if this was more of his usual flirting.

before you could say anything, another loud sound echoed from upstairs. this time, it wasn’t just a bang. it was footsteps. slow, deliberate footsteps moving across the ceiling. you froze, every muscle in your body tensing as you looked up. riddle stepped in front of you, his usual playful expression gone and replaced by something more serious.

“stay close,” he whispered and you nodded as you followed him up the creaky stairs , ignoring the tightening in your throat. each step felt heavier than the previous one and the closer you got to the top floor, the louder the sound became. you couldn’t shake the feeling that someone, or something, was watching you.

mattheo’s hand brushed against yours again, and this time you didn’t pull away. you were too focused on the shadows that seemed to move on their own, on the way the cold seemed to press in on you from all sides.

“do you trust me ?” he asked quietly. you looked up at him, surprised by the seriousness in his voice. he’d always been flirty and playful when it came to you, blurring the lines between friendship and more. however, tonight, things felt different. despite everything, you nodded “yeah…”

he squeezed your hand lightly, his hand never leaving yours. “good, because i’m not letting anything happen to you.”

“oi !” theo’s voice echoed through the hall, startling the both of you and shattering the blissful bubble you were in. you quickly dropped mattheo’s hand and stepped back, but it was too late.

theo was grinning, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed, looking far too amused for someone in a haunted house, and for your liking. “well, well, well… look at you two getting all cozy up here.” your face heated up immediately, but mattheo just smirked, clearly unfazed. “jealous ?” theo proceeded to snort, “of you ? never.”

he glanced between the two of you, and the teasing look in his eyes made you wanna disappear. “we’re heading back, this place is more boring than we thought it would be. meet us downstairs and don’t get lost… or, you know, distracted.”

with that, he turned around and disappeared back down the dusty stairs, leaving you and mattheo standing there in awkward silence. you could feel your chest thumping as you tried to figure out what to say, looking at the old wallpaper that was falling apart instead of meeting his gaze.

“see ?” he whispered, leaning down just enough for you to hear. “told you i’d protect you. even from theo’s terrible sense of humour.” you groaned and pushed him slightly, the banter between you settling back down, “shut up !”

you may have hated haunted houses, but the truth was, you kind of liked the way his hand felt in yours.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

a/n : hey ! this is me making my weekly appearance on this app, cause i just HAD to write about this request

please comment and reblog ! tag list (comment if you wanna be added) @tateshifts @redeemingvillains @helendeath @jolly4holly @larmesdevanille @dexoq @reys-letters @shiftingwithmars @shiftingwithleah @fbvreadingblog @moonlightreader649 @bellatrix-lestrange5 @sp7-mr @sunkissedscribbles @chelawrites @myunperfektstorys @iris-qt @yikesitslush @clar2aa @deadsnakey @deadghosy @slut-for-fictional-men @romantasyreader28 @witchsrecs

[megwritesriddles]

MDNI 18+ !!!

Tom Riddle is the type of guy you would assume would never go down on you, but it turns out he’s OBSESSED with being between your thighs. It’s a total power thing for him, taking you apart until you’re trembling and panting and pleading. He wouldn’t never admit it to you or himself, but he’s crazy for the way you taste, eating you out almost every time you hook up. You let him believe it’s just about power, but the way he looks up at you while he feasts on you lets you know the truth. If you ever denied him his favourite meal, there’s no telling how he’d act…

You might find yourself waking up in the Chamber and not getting out for a while…

[zriasstuff]

Them asking you to be their Valentine

The Slytherin Boys x reader (just in time for Valentine’s Day :))

Valentine’s Day at Hogwarts always comes with a lavish ball, so go ahead and choose the white knight of your liking to accompany you :)

Mattheo Riddle:

Mattheo’s way of asking you to be his Valentine for the ball was very straightforward, yet effective. The second after the announcement dropped, he went to find you in the schoolyard, and approached you in front of all your friends.

“Hey, wait up!”, he’d shout to get your attention, already sounding determined.

“What do you say, you and me at the ball?”, he spoke out his confession, short and sweet.

Cheekily, he adds “I think you and I would be the best looking couple at the ball”. You notice him shyly tucking his head down as he said that, but he still sounded self assured.

Everyone was patiently waiting for your reaction, and you noticed how all your friends started gushing over him. Mattheo seemed unfazed by everyone else and only had eyes for you.

Even though you had only talked to him a few times in the past, you noticed that there was this easy-going chemistry between you two.

His profession certainly came as a surprise, but you liked guys who were direct. Besides, he struck you as a bit of a player too, who seemed to be used to asking girls out.

“Sure, I’d love to go with you”, you chuckle out, knowing you’d have a lot of fun with him.

He slickly throws you an air kiss, grinning from ear to ear, before all his friends start jumping on him to celebrate his win.

Tom Riddle (extremely delusional):

Tom definitely wasn’t one for the romantics, in fact he was strictly against the idea of a Valentine’s Day ball.

What he told you, when you asked him if he had a date already was:

“The ball is just an excuse for undisciplined students to commit shameful acts such as drinking alcohol and doing magical substances, when they should really be focusing on their education instead, which they are in desperate need of”

“I see, so you don’t have a date”, you sum it up for him.

Truthfully, you only asked Tom that question because you started catching feelings for him, and you wanted to know if you had a clear shot.

But clearly, he wasn’t interested at the moment.

He seemed to be carefully analyzing your reaction to his statement. Seconds later, he indifferently states “You want me to ask you out, don’t you”

You, shocked at first, embarrassingly nod afterwards. Full of curiosity, you wondered how he had managed to read you so accurately.

“Fine, to save myself from a week of listening to your heartbreak or potential soulmate, I am going to do you the favor of accompanying you to the ball. I am only doing this to save myself.”, he explains elaborately, which earns him an eye roll of yours.

You still wanted him to actually ask you and mean it, but for Tom Riddle, this was a big gesture already. Besides, you were aware from the beginning that you would have to deal with his peculiarities.

“On the day, be ready at 8pm sharp, and don’t you dare get drunk or high”, he lays down his conditions. Even if he wouldn’t say it, you knew that deep down he cared, otherwise he would’ve never even indulged in this.

Theodore Nott:

Theodore had found himself in a bit of a slump. Due to the excessive quidditch training, he didn’t have a date for the ball yet, which would be in 1 day exactly.

Subconsciously he fully believed that he'd find a date, no matter what time it was, which is why he took his sweet sweet time.

But now, with growing desperation, he ran around, asking out every girl he saw. And each time, the girl rejected him because they already had a date.

As he grew more and more frustrated, he asked you for the second time again, to be his date. You already told him that you had plans with a guy from Gryffindor, which he ridiculed.

“Come on, please ditch him for me?”, he’d repeatedly ask you with puppy eyes.

“Please just do me this favor, I don’t want to be the only guy in our friend group to not have a date.

You’d tell him that it was his own fault, but eventually you felt a bit bad for him. And you were indeed good friends, so maybe you could do him a favor. It wasn’t like the Gryffindor boy and you were in love. Surely he’d get over it…

“Fine, I’ll go, but you owe me”, you finally agreed. Truthfully, you found Theo much more attractive and charming anyway.

You had only agreed to the Gryffindor boy in the first place because you were afraid that no one besides him would ask you out anymore if you said no.

Theo, full of excitement and relief, cupped your face and kissed your forehead as a thanks when you agreed to be his date.

“I promise you, you won’t regret it”, were his last words before leaving you alone.

Blaise Zabini:

You only had one more tedious potions class of Snape's to go through, before you could finally enjoy the rest of your day.

As the clock ticked, you stared down on your blank parchment paper, counting the minutes to go.

Catching you off guard, you feel Blaise’s finger lightly tapping your arm. You needed a second to get conscious of the situation because you had zoned out.

He slides a small, blank piece of parchment paper towards you and points his head down, signaling you to turn it around.

When you do, your mood immediately lifts and you begin blushing. It was kind of childish, like something you’d do in year 1 or 2, but it was also cute.

The paper was filled with the classic “will you be my Valentine”, and there were three boxes to cross. The three being “yes”, “no”, and “maybe”.

Blaise observes your reaction delightfully, waiting for you to tick a box. As this was the highlight of your day, you decide to give the guy a chance and tick “yes”.

When class ended, Blaise waited for you to pack up and proposed a hang out at astronomy tower with you, which you agreed to with pleasure.

Enzo Berkshire:

It was a Sunday, exactly one week before the ball, and all the Hogwarts students were enjoying their time in Hogsmeade.

On this peculiar day, your seating partner Enzo from Transfiguration asked you to go to Madam Puddifoot's Café with him. The location was definitely romantic, and you already suspected where this might be going.

But—you didn’t want to get your hopes too high yet. Enzo was unquestionably a cute guy though.

During your coffee date, he didn’t drop any hints or said anything suggestive. You just talked, gossiped, and joked around, and you figured he’d be cool as a friend too.

Though nearing the end, the waiter came to your table with a small buttercream cake.

You shot a confused glance at Enzo, and he seemed clueless.

“I don’t believe we ordered that”, you tell the waiter, but he insists and puts the cake in front of you. After the waiter leaves, you keep eye contact with Enzo, but he tells you to eat the cake.

Still dazzled, you comply and look down, seeing that…

“Will you be my Valentine”, was written on the cake in cursive font with pink buttercream. Overcome by joy, you couldn’t be happier that your suspicions from the beginning were right.

“So what’s your answer”, he asks eagerly, eyes sparkling with excitement.

“Of course I will, this was so sweet”

You believed that no girl could’ve said no to this.

Draco Malfoy:

You and Draco never slacked off on your prefect duties, which also included the nightly walks around school, to ensure that every student has gone to bed.

It is the perfect time to talk after a long day, and to exercise your power of course, but mainly the walks had brought you two very close, and you exchanged plenty of secrets already.

Although he could be a bit of an asshole, which you also told him, you still saw that he had a caring, more hurt side to him.

A week before the ball, he suggested a different route than the one you usually took.

He told you to close your eyes as you were walking, and led you by your hand. Innerly, he was as nervous and jittery as one could get, and couldn’t wait to see the reaction on your face.

When you got to the mysterious destination, he told you to open your eyes

As soon as you opened them, you saw the room of requirements, decorated with pink and red flowers, hundreds of candles, and a banner reading “will you be my valentine”.

It had been Draco’s plan for weeks, and he was so glad that he pulled it off.

He also made sure that you wouldn’t get a date, before he asked you out, which included cursing guys who got close to you.

“Oh my, yes of course Draco, I can’t believe you did this”, you’d say full of joy.

“You just made me the happiest guy in this school”, he’d reply and you knew it was true.

Immediately he brings you closer to kiss you, and you spend the rest of the night cuddling inside the room of requirements (insert the scene of Dean and Rory cuddling in GG if yk what I mean).