#and if tom riddle had stayed hot

[phoenixkaptain]

Fascinating. If Tom Riddle had just stayed hot, Harry totally would have been swayed.

[viperify]

oneshots | ᴛᴏᴍ ʀɪᴅᴅʟᴇ X ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

⋆˖𐙚 Perfect Little Doll.

Short Summary: Tom Riddle is quite laid-back when it comes to you—but under the effect of a Lust Potion, he just takes what he wants—however he wants.

Warnings: 18+ only! consensual non consent. somno, sex under the effect of a lust potion, rough sex, choking, unprotected p in v, sex with little to no prep, creampie

A/N: I got the highest grade possible for my thesis, you get filthy smut! Win-win.

wordcount: 1,2k

“No, stay— stay like this.”

It’s the first thing you hear when you stir awake in the middle of the night. You try to move—but something, or rather someone, is making sure you have no choice but to stay trapped beneath them.

“Please, no—“ panic rises in your chest as you struggle under their weight—but it’s no use.

“Shh. It’s me. Be good and stay still.”

This time, you recognize the voice, and you exhale a shuddering breath, relaxing just slightly.

It’s Tom.

Lying on your front, you don’t get to meet his expression, hell, you don’t even get to fucking ask what he’s doing—

Because you already feel him pressing against your entrance, tip hot and flushed, leaking with need—and with a single, measured thrust, he pushes inside. Deep.

“Fuck—“ you shriek at the sudden, stinging stretch. “Tom, that hurts!”

As you reach behind you, trying to push him away, give you time to adjust, he instantly pins your wrists to your back.

“I know— fuck, I know.” He grumbles, yet shows no intent to stop. Instead, he pulls out, pushing back inside immediately—drawing another sharp gasp from you. “Go back to sleep, sweetheart.”

You don’t know exactly what’s gotten into him. Yes, you both agreed upon this, that he could use you when you were asleep—and that you could tell him to stop whenever you actually wanted to—but never had he been this eager.

“Tom, please—“ you try again, whimpering at the burning, unrelenting stretch. His hand finds its way into your hair, lifting your head slightly just to push you into the pillow beneath you—muffling your whines.

His hips rock forward once more, testing, trying how much you can take.

“You will be quiet and take it, alright? Be a good girl for me?” He mumbles, voice coming out raspy, laced with need. He withdraws then, only halfway this time—

Just to snap his hips forward again, tip harshly ramming against your sensitive cervix—a feeling that has you biting your lips so hard, you taste blood.

“God, Tom!” You yelp, hips involuntarily bucking against his in an attempt to free yourself—but it only results in him slipping deeper, drawing a low groan from the brunette.

Slowly, he starts rolling his hips against yours, still buried deep, brows furrowed, breathing heavily through his slightly parted lips at just how tight you feel around him.

Finally, his hand leaves your hair, allowing you to inhale a deep breath—lungs burning from the lack of oxygen as you do. Just a mere second later, it’s wrapped around your neck instead, pushing you down once more.

He’s got you exactly how he likes you—one leg angled to your side, his body trapping yours between him and the bed, fingers pressing into your pulse point, enough to make you feel light-headed. Hips flush with yours, ass pressed against his pelvis—it makes his head spin. He needs to have you, take you—now.

“Slipped me this potion— told me it was for sobering up— fuck, sweetheart, you’re tight.” He groans, a deep, low sound somewhere from the back of his throat, feeling him twitch inside you.

It all comes crashing down onto you. Why he is like this.

They made him drink a Lust Potion.

Judging by the fact that he didn’t even second-guess before downing it—must mean he’s had a decent amount of drinks as well.

All of that, combined with the effects of the potion—turned him into this.

You don’t get to think about the situation for much longer and what you could do to ease the effects—the slow drag of his cock against your walls as he starts thrusting into you efficiently short-circuiting your brain.

He doesn’t ease you into it. After one or two thrusts, he picks up his pace, hips snapping against yours as though it’s the last time he gets to have you.

Tom usually isn’t the most vocal. Yes, he enjoys it—loves it, even—when he can pin you down and fuck you into the mattress until you are begging for him to let you come. But, just like outside of your sacred four walls, he likes to keep his composure—even during the most intimate acts.

In short: he hates losing control.

But now—he’s moaning, whimpering even at how sensitive he is—at how good and warm you feel, wrapped tightly around him.

It’s making your brain fuzzy. Everything about it. How you are slowly loosening up for him, allowing him to increase his pace, how your own arousal makes it even easier for him to thrust deep.

“Taking me so well, sweetheart.” Tom praises, breathless, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the otherwise quiet bedroom. “Like this pussy was fucking made for me, fitting me like a damn glove—“

And at this point you are praying you would survive this.

His thrusts grow rougher, punishing almost, brushing against your cervix with every single snap of his hips. His hand wraps around your throat, cutting off your airflow once more as he feels himself getting close.

“Fuck, darling— going to let me fill you up, hm? Make you nice and full of me?” He grits out, staying pressed flush against you for a second, making you feel all of him—every vein, every ridge—every. single. inch.

You nod as best as you can, clenching down tight around him.

“Please Tom, please fill me up— need it, fuck—“

He groans at that, cursing under his breath.

“Good girl. Such a perfect little doll, all nice and pliant for me—“

It’s not long until his pace falters, hips stuttering against your own—and he groans lowly as he starts spilling deep inside of you, coating your walls with his warm release.

He collapses on top of you—breathing heavily against your neck, chest heaving—and although your mind is still hazy with your own pleasure, your thoughts drift back to what happened before he returned to your home.

Knowing them, you guess it’s Rosier and Mulciber who did it. Probably thought it was hilarious, too.

You aren’t sure if you should feel bad for the fact that you don’t know what Tom would come up with as punishment.

Because hell—they are not the ones who have to put up with him like this.

Meanwhile, Tom is still buried deep, keeping his release right where it belongs—but then, when his breathing returns to normal, he gives you the slightest roll of his hips—

“Said it would take three hours to wear off—“

And you already feel him growing hard again.

Fuck, you are screwed.

“Tom, please—“

He shushes you with a kiss on top of your head.

“No. Stay— need you— need you again.” He rasps, back to thrusting into you, fucking his cum even deeper as he’s back chasing his next climax. And you? You are right there with him, on the precipice of your own orgasm.

Merlin fucking help you.

If he won’t kill them for this, you might just do it yourself.

thank you for reading! feel free to reblog and leave feedback <3 — masterlist. | oneshots.

©2025 viperify. please do not copy, translate or claim my work as your own.

[slytherin-princess-x]

Don’t get caught

Theodore nott x y/n riddle

An/ hi guys I’m back with a new short story, enjoy

The air in my dorm room was thick, charged with the illicit thrill of stolen moments. Theodore’s hands were tangled in my hair, his lips hot and demanding against mine. My back was pressed against the cool wood of the door, my legs locked around his waist for balance. The world outside the confines of our clandestine bubble ceased to exist.

We’d been doing this for weeks now, navigating the treacherous waters of Hogwarts’ social scene while attempting to keep our relationship a secret. It was a dangerous game, one made all the more exhilarating by the lurking threat of discovery. Tonight, the risk felt palpable as his fingers grazed my bare skin beneath my school shirt, sending shivers that had nothing to do with the cold castle air.

Then, the world crashed back in with a jarring knock. My heart leaped into my throat, and I knew, before I even heard their voices, that our recklessness was about to catch up with us.

“Hey y/n, open the door!” Mattheo’s voice boomed from the other side, followed by Tom's, more measured but just as insistent, "Open up y/n."

Panic, cold and sharp, shot through me. I pulled away from Theo, my cheeks burning. The kiss was broken, the spell shattered. Theo, his grey eyes flashing with annoyance, released me, clearly frustrated at the interruption. I scrambled to unwrap my legs from his waist, my movements jerky and hurried. He was about to protest, his mouth opening to say something, but I slapped a hand over his lips, my eyes wide with warning.

“Shhh!” I hissed, pointing to the narrow gap between the door and the wall. He glared, but understood the gravity of the situation.

I pushed him behind the door where he wouldn’t be seen when I opened it. My shirt was disheveled, my breathing heavy, the only thing I had was my school shirt and my underwear. I tried to appear as calm as possible under the circumstances. Taking a deep breath, I edged the door open just enough to create a narrow opening, my back pressed against the frame.

“Hey Mattheo,” I said, my voice a little breathy. I focused my gaze on my brother's face, careful not to let my eyes wander past the threshold. “I’m kinda busy, sorry.”

Mattheo tilted his head, a flicker of suspicion in his dark eyes. "Busy? At this hour? What could be so important that you can't open the door?" he questioned, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. Tom, ever the observer, stood behind Mattheo, his expression unreadable. I knew what they were both thinking.

My mind raced, trying to come up with a believable explanation. "Oh you know… study, cleaning… loads of things" I rambled, wincing at the patheticness of my alibi. It was clear I was flustered and it didn't go unnoticed by my brothers.

Meanwhile, Theo decided to be a menace. I felt his tongue dart out to lick my palm. He was testing me, pushing the boundaries of our precarious game. It was a dumb move, but a wave of something almost like amusement washed over me. I knew what he was doing. He wanted to see what I would do when put under pressure. Wrapping my hand around his neck, I squeezed gently, my nails grazing his skin. His eyes widened slightly, but he didn't resist, the amused smirk still playing on his lips. I knew what he wanted. If he wanted to play, I would play.

"You sound a little out of breath" Tom stated, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the small gap through the door.

"I um.. was just doing some yoga to wind down" I stammered, trying to maintain a straight face. I could feel Theo fidgeting behind the door, I hoped he would stay put.

Mattheo chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that sent another wave of panic through me. "Yoga? Really?" He was obviously not convinced either.

"Yeah, it helps me relax, you know?" I continued to lie, wishing I had an invisibility cloak handy.

I could feel their eyes piercing me, trying to see through the narrow gap. The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife. This was it, I thought, they were going to figure it out. I could almost hear Theo's exasperated sigh behind me.

"Well, if you're not going to open the door, I guess we'll just go" Mattheo said. He backed away slightly, Tom following him.

"Whatever" I huffed, trying to act like it didn't bother me that they didn't believe me with a small roll of my eyes.

The brothers gave me one last look before finally turning away. As soon as I heard their footsteps fade down the hall, I slammed the door shut, letting out a shaky breath of relief.

I immediately turned to Theo, my gaze full of equal parts panic and anger. "That was too close!' I hissed, my voice trembling. He peeled my hand off his mouth, his expression still annoyed despite the close call.

"Tell me about it, now where were we?" he said grabbing my face and pulling me in for another kiss, my panic immediately forgotten as I was swept into our secret world once more.

Taglist: @yootvi @redeemingvillains @littlemadamred @smut-anarchy

[harrypotterheretic]

This might be a controversial headcanon I have about Merope and Tom Riddle Snr, because - although Merope is talked about with pity in the HP series - outside of it, within the fandom, she is very much a villain and Tom Riddle Snr her victim.

And I understand why - because she, according to Dumbledore's best guess, gave a love potion to (roofied) Tom Riddle snr and got him to marry and sleep with her against his will. In doing so she not only violated his body and mind but destroyed his actual relationship with the muggle girl, Celia, and created scandal in his hometown, making him a subject of mockery - when he was very much a victim.

And its distasteful (at best) to victim blame.

But... I think about how Dumbledore wasn't there and is only guessing, and how he is a man and sees the world through men's eyes, and I think about what the world (and men) are really like.

When Tom Riddle snr returns to Little Hangleton, he talks about having been "hoodwinked" and the people of the village assume Merope lied to him about being pregnant in order to get him to marry her.

Which means the people of the village are happy to accept that Tom Riddle snr was sleeping with Merope before they ran away together. They certainly don't think he was in love with her (hence why he was hoodwinked) but they accept without question that he had engaged in a sexual relationship with her.

And I don't think that's unlikely.

Maybe even before Morfin and Marvolo were arrested, but definitely afterwards. I just don't think it's unlikely - men being as they are, and sorry to be crude - that a man like Tom Riddle snr wasn't perfectly happy to use Merope as a warm hole to get his dick wet.

I don't think he loved her, or was even attracted to her.

But would he have sex with her?

Yes!

Especially if Celia is holding out for her wedding night.

Higher class man having sexual relationships with lower class women, which mean nothing to them, and not caring one jot how this can ruin the lower class woman's life is as old as time.

Merope is "in love" with him, she is unprotected by people who will look out for her, she has no friends, no education and little experience of the world. She is unloved and desperate for kindness.

She is a sitting duck for a callous man who wants to get his end away.

The problem for Tom Riddle snr is that she is not, actually, as powerless as other lower class girls. She has magic.

And when poor, silly, in love Merope tells Tom she is pregnant and he tries to cast her aside, unlike her muggle sisters she is able to do something about it. When he refuses to do "the honourable thing" as she believed he would (because she believed he loved her), she uses magic to get him to marry her.

Dumbledore says he thinks Merope must have somehow found a way to trick Tom Riddle snr into drinking a love potion; that she got him to stop his horse by her house on a hot day and offered him water. That she eventually stopped giving him the love potions because she thought he might have really fallen in love with her by this point, or would stay for the baby, or just didn't want to lie anymore. But he is only guessing. That is, in fact, his headcanon.

Mine is that Tom Riddle snr was using Merope for sex, that she was already pregnant when they ran away (like the villagers thought), and that she only used magic to ensnare him after he rejected her when she told him about the baby. I think she did grab her wand and confund him, as she was reacting to his rejection - and had not been planning to kidnap him before this moment. I think it makes more sense than Dumbledore's explanation for why Tom regains his own mind and leaves, that Tom began to fight a confundus charm applied by an inexpert witch and broke free. And, if it was Merope who stopped using magic on Tom, I think it makes more sense than Dumbledore's theory for her to do so if she had a concrete reason to believe that he had ever loved her in the first place (no matter how misguided that belief was and how much the concrete was actually sand). Whichever version is true, I think Dumbledore's explanations are vague and patchy at best.

I also think it makes the pain of his leaving her more real, than if it was all a fantasy she cooked up in her head, and explains better why she just gave up after he left. She was not only desperate and alone and genuinely heartbroken, because she had been part of an actual relationship (if under false pretences on his side) but was also having to come to terms with the fact that she had been tricked and made a fool of and not only did Tom not love her, the Tom she loved never existed and the real Tom thought she was so worthless he was happy to use her, discard her and didn't care if she lived or died.

I just think that - using a sex class analysis of behaviour - my headcanon is far more realistic than Dumbledore's, because men really are that awful.

Now, the fact that they were sleeping together and Tom was doing so under false pretences doesn't stop Merope's using magic on him from being wrong. But it does even things out between them a bit, Tom is no longer a hapless victim of Merope's, but his being enchanted somehow is a consequence of his own poor behaviour. It is arguably deserved. And I see why that is a controversial take because it removes Tom from being a totally innocent victim of Merope's while making Merope a victim of his and finding an excuse for her bad behaviour. It is - arguably - victim blaming.

But I'm afraid the whole story just makes more sense if Tom and Merope were sleeping together before they eloped.

[deadghosy]

SLYTHERIN BOYS WITH A BLACK FEM!READER WHO IS TALL LIKE MEGAN THEE STALLION

A/N: tbh I randomly had the energy to write this late in night cause Megan is so gorgeous!! I appreciate reblogs, comments, and such as likes. Also I looked up the heights of the characters so I’m sorry this seems weird lol.

Honestly, all the Slytherin boys are tall asf..while you stand at 5’10. (Which is Megan’s irl height.) so you still are tall, just not a full taller height than the boys.

Tom is 5’11. Taller than you by an inch. He doesn’t care about your height or his. But he is impressed at how you do tower over some of the Slytherin girls and Hogwarts girls. He thinks you are definitely worth a chatting to.

Mattheo being 6’1 like Theodore, (I’ve always imagined him to be at least a little shorter than Theo) he likes to think you two can be a good couple. You rejected him of course but hey. At least he respects it. He does find it hot how tall you are against some girls.

Draco is only 5’9, so you’re taller than him by an inch. Personally you still make it seem like he’s shorter than you by a lot which makes him mad. But he can’t stay mad at you since it is kinda funny when you do it. And only you. If someone is else did it, he’s complaining to you completely.

Blaise, he’s 6’3. He’s a practically towering over you a bit. But still, you two are giants to others from afar. Every time you two walk together, there’s gossip about how you two look so cool together.

Theodore, being the tall bastard of 6’1. You two are very close in height. So of course you two are kinda like the tall duo.

And Lorenzo for final finds you very beautiful for a tall woman despite the others. He’s 6’0 (had to look at the fancasted actor height. Don’t judge me 🙁) He’s like a puppy in love with you, following you around and helping you carry your book bags and book. Literally smitten with you. Loves when you call him “baby” and cup his face. It makes him melt so fast.

Personally the Slytherin boys love how cool you are, and how you are a very intelligent person. They are like overprotective brothers and friends to you. Lorenzo is full snake mode when it comes to you. Immediately he wants to poison the people who mess with you like a poisonous snake

Definitely Lorenzo is the one. He’s immediately devoted to defend you from people who dare to make fun of you. They are not going to get at you, or towards you. They have to answer to him. Literally.

God when you do a slick back move line Draco but better….you better pray Lorenzo doesn’t go crazy asf. Cause he actually does. He wants to gatekeep how beautiful you are…but he hates it when other men try to holler at you.

And when they fail, Lorenzo is just smiling like a cheeky bastard.

Mattheo always teases the Berkshire male about how whipped he is for you. And Enzo but admit he is. See you’re an unbothered queen. You let haters lol dumb while karma gets to them.

“Hey big foot!” A girl yelled at you from across the great hall. You were just relaxing with your boys when she yelled. You turned around unbothered and looked ahead of yourself. Not giving a fuck if she thinks she can get under your skin. The riddles narrowed their eyes at the girl meanwhile Draco mumble how his “father will hear about this. Lorenzo is immediately sat up which lead you to put your hand on his arm. Calling him down a bit as he looks at you. “Boys calm down. It ain’t worth a second to get all mad about a bitch who can’t do shit but hate.” You say, smirking. You knew karma was gonna get her way. And it did when she ended up in the hospital wing. The thing was you didn’t do a single thing. Someone did.

Honestly Blaise is the person you allow to put your hair in a protective style. And he loves it. He sometimes brag to the other which made mattheo. Being the cocky one, to go up and not demand. Heavens no, if he had demand you to let him do your hair. You would’ve depulso him across the room and out your dorm. So you taught him how to do your hair.

Blaise and you just relaxing, listening to music as you give him a silk bonnet is definitely something that will happen time to time

Draco and you have self care days which bring you two together a lot.

Honestly with you being nicknamed “titan”, Theo would definitely pick you up. Making you two combined as a ladder. The same goes for Blaise as well.

It’s relaxing all day, evening, and night.

They love you dearly and you love them back.

[ohthewh0rror]

Honestly I love accidentally going back in time reader x Tom Riddle cuz there is alot you can do with it.

I always had this idea of the reader being a muggleborn and having to hide it as they are placed in slytherin. (Which was not their house in the present) and like they have to navigate trying to adjust to the time period and also staying alive with tom always suspicious of them.

I love you and I love this because this almost the exact premise that I think of.

Picture this:

The year? 1996. The setting? Department of Mysteries. 16 year old, Hufflepuff!Muggleborn!Reader being chased through the Ministry. Wand broken, head bleeding, finds herself in a dead end hallway. She hears Dolohov before she sees him, knowing she can’t turn back, darts through the first door she sees and locks it.

She presses her back to the door, eyes shut, trying to control her breathing and just think. Her mind is racing and she feels dizzy, no idea last for longer than a second and she’s forced to open her eyes and inspect her surroundings to see if there’s anything that could help her get out of this place. She was expecting a normal office, one where the walls are filled with photographs and achievements, and a wooden desk sitting in the center covered in personal charms and paperwork.

Instead, it’s a room with singular marble pillar with a small glass box sitting a top of it. Reader takes tentative steps towards it, unsure of what could deserve its own room. As she reaches the pillar she finally sees what’s within the box: a time turner.

She’s hesitant, she didn’t know much about time travel or the intricate details of the effects of time travel, but she just needed to go back an hour. If she could go back an hour she could do something, anything to prevent being stuck in room with a sociopath hot on her heels.

Her hands reach for the glass case, gently opening it, fearful that anything other than a gentle touch would somehow break it. Her hands shake and palms sweat as she holds the fragile rings in her fingers. As she goes to turn the rings, Dolohov’s voice booms down the hallway she was just in, taunting her, trying to coax her to come out.

Her body jolts at the sudden noise and the time turner slips from her grasp. She scrambles to catch it, but it evades her. The time turner hits the wooden floor and the shattering of glass and thudding of golden rings echoes in the quiet room. Reader doesn’t have enough time to panic because just as Dolohov bust through the door, her vision blurs as she feels herself being dragged backwards.

When Reader comes to again her head is pounding and she can feel the vomit quickly making its way up her esophagus. She has enough time to roll onto her hands and knees before it’s spilling out her mouth and onto the cold stone beneath her. If she wasn’t actively vomiting she would have jumped at the feeling of hands pulling her hair back. The person holding her hair waits until she’s finished to ask her if she’s alright.

She gives a weak yes, looking at the kind person that decided to help her, but her heart plummets to her feet. Before her is the most beautiful boy she has ever seen. His hair dark and wavy, perfectly slicked back with a pristine uniform, not a wrinkle in site. She can smell the faint hint of cologne coming off his white button down and if she wasn’t internally shitting herself she would have leaned into his kind touch. But this is no ordinary boy, it’s a 16 year old Tom Riddle, and the curiosity shining through his eyes makes her blood run cold.

A curious Tom Riddle is a dangerous Tom Riddle, and she has just made herself the prime focus of his curiosity.

[j0s3f1n3]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ 𝓗𝓲𝓼 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓸𝓷𝓵𝔂 𝓱𝓲𝓼

Tom Riddle x f!reader

Count word: 2028

ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+ OR OLDER.

TW: Smut, not protected p in v, spanking, swearing, orgasm denial (kinda?), Possessive Tom, Jealous Tom, MDNI

Notes: I was feeling jealous lately and i wanted to write about jealousy. And i feel like a jealous Tom is a hot Tom. Jealous smut is way too good for my sanity bahahahah. Feel free to comment and give your review, it's my first smut text ever ! Enjoy (:

Tom Riddle isn’t jealous. Usually.

But when that man got a little too close to you for his liking, he reconsidered everything. Why did you smile at that fool? Why did you even acknowledge him?

You were supposed to be his. Only his.

Tom Riddle isn’t jealous. Usually.

But he kept his distance just to see if you’d do something stupid—like accepting a date with that Hufflepuff boy. From the shadows, he watched, jaw clenched as you laughed. Laughed. At something that idiot said. The guy looked pleased.

Tom glowered.

Tom Riddle isn’t jealous. Usually.

But you noticed the shift in his behavior during your usual late-night study sessions. His words were sharper, his demeanor colder, his presence heavier, almost suffocating. He wasn’t just distant—he was punishing you.

You weren’t dating, no. But you liked to think you held a small soft spot in his heart.

"Is something wrong, Tom?" you finally asked.

You were worried. Maybe he didn’t want to be near you anymore? Maybe he had found someone better? Maybe you lost him?

His face remained unreadable, and this time, you couldn’t see any hidden emotion lurking beneath.

"Why would something be wrong?"

There it was. A slight flicker of annoyance. He was mad. Really mad. And the fact that he was letting it slip—even a little—meant there was a storm raging beneath his carefully controlled exterior.

You stayed silent, studying him, looking for another crack in his cold mask. His quill scraped against the parchment, his neat, elegant handwriting flowing effortlessly. But you noticed how tight his grip was, the way his knuckles had turned white.

"I don’t know why you’re mad, but… if you need to talk, I’m here," you said softly.

A sigh left his lips. He placed his quill down with practiced precision.

"And what makes you think I’m mad?"

Your eyes met his. Too intense. Too knowing. You were sure he was using Legilimency. His smirk was barely there, but it was enough.

"Would it bother you if I was?"

You nodded before you could stop yourself.

His gaze darkened slightly, amusement flickering across his features as you instinctively lowered your eyes, fingers fidgeting in your lap.

"Who was the guy you were talking to earlier?"

He feigned indifference, but you weren’t fooled. You felt it. He needed to know. Tom needs to know everything.

Your head snapped up. He was still watching you, his quill moving lazily across the page as if he wasn’t demanding answers.

And that’s when it hit you.

Tom Riddle never asks about anything outside his own interests. Never, unless he cared about it. Tom Riddle never asks about things that don’t concern him. And yet, here he was.

A slow smirk curled your lips as you took him in. His dark brown hair, his sharp, impossibly handsome features, the way his fingers gripped the quill with a quiet intensity. You forced yourself to look back at his face before your thoughts strayed too far.

"Why do you want to know?" you teased, leaning back in your chair.

His expression darkened immediately. Tom Riddle did not like not being answered. He seemed hesitant before reluctantly answering."Because I want to."

Not good enough. You stayed silent.

Tension crackled between you, thick and suffocating. The only sound in the library was the distant crackling of the fire.

After what felt like an eternity, you stood. The wooden floor creaked under your steps as you made your way to the bookshelf, trailing a finger along the spines of the books. You were here to study, weren’t you? You better have to study now.

You felt him behind you before you could hear him. His presence was heavy, consuming.

Slowly, you turned, your breath catching as you realized just how close he had gotten. His towering frame loomed over you, the flickering candlelight casting shadows over his sharp features making him even more handsome if possible.

"You didn’t answer my question." His voice was low, almost menacing.

You smirked. "I didn’t like your answer to mine."

He exhaled sharply through his nose—a silent warning not to anger him more.

"Careful," he murmured, leaning in so close you could feel his breath on your lips. "You know better than to test me."

Your heart pounded. If you wanted you could taste his lips right then, but he wouldn’t allow it.

"So," his voice was like silk wrapped around steel, "who was the guy?" You held his gaze, drowning in the abyss of his dark eyes.

"Just a Hufflepuff," you admitted. "He asked me out."

You knew better than to lie to him. He wouldn’t like it and you wouldn’t like what he would do if you did lie.

Something dangerous flickered across his expression.

Silence stretched between you, his fingers twitching slightly at his sides. He was waiting for a better answer.

"And?"

You swallowed. "I said yes."

The room felt too quiet.

A low sound rumbled from his throat.

"You gotta be kidding me."

Before you could respond, his hand was wrapped around your throat.

His grip tightens around you as your eyes widen. Tom didn’t act like this around you. A slow, predatory smirk curled his lips.

“You said yes ?” he leaned closer to your face. “Why would you do such a thing ?”

Confusion spreads on your face as he chuckled. You should push him away, struggle out of his grip. But you can’t help but stay just where he wants you to be. And the worst part is that it awakens a dark arousal deep inside you pooling between your legs.

“Am I not enough for you ?” He slowly backs you to the shelf, completely caging you between him and the books. You open your mouth to answer, to explain but no sound left. You were at his mercy and you both liked it.

“Answer the question” He didn’t yell but his voice gave you orders like no one else would. “Am. I. Not. Enough ?”

“What do you mean Tom… I don’t-” You started but you were interrupted by a groan. 

“You like testing me don’t you ?”  You wanted to deny it but you didn’t have time for him to crush his lips on yours silencing any sound coming from your mouth.

Your first kiss with Tom Riddle wasn’t gentle—it was a battle of dominance.

His hand still wrapped around your throat, he was staking his claim, right there in the dimly lit library, where anyone could walk in. His fingers dug into your hips, holding you still—pinning you exactly where he wanted, branding you his with bruises.

When he broke the kiss, you were both out of air but it was only the beginning. His eyes were filled with something raw, something dark.

“Say that you’re mine” He didn’t ask, he ordered.

When you took too much time answering his hand came back to your throat pulling your face closer to his.

“You’re mine” He said through gritted teeth. And then his lips were on yours again. You drowned on him. His grip, his smell. 

“Say you’re mine” He said between kisses. “Or I’ll make you”

It was too much for you to follow. Minutes ago you thought he didn’t care about you and now he was kissing you like it was his last day on Earth.

He got impatient. He let go of you, only to turn you and bend you over the small reading ledge. He pressed himself on your backside. “Why do you have to make things difficult ? Why won’t you just be a good girl and be mine ?” 

Before you can react he hikes up your skirt, not bothered about the possibility of the Librarian coming back and seeing you. “You’ve been such a brat lately. Maybe i should fix your attitude”

SPANK. Your butt cheek sting from the sharp spank. The pain is quickly replaced by pleasure as you suppress a sound by biting your lower lip.

“Now, would you be a good girl?” You nodded and he chuckled, pleased. 

You can feel his hard length through his pants pressing on your exposed ass, resting close to your clothed cunt. You didn’t even know you had all these desires but now you can’t just let him leave. You need him. You crave him.

You move your ass against him seeking more friction, making him groan.

“I never took you for such a desperate little thing.” SPANK “Who knew you’d be so needy for me ?” He chuckled again as a hand slid inside your now soaked panties.

A hum of satisfaction rumbled from behind you. You know you should push him away before someone saw you like that. Bent over witn Tom’s hand inside your thong. 

“Is it that Hufflepuff boy that made you dripping like that ?” He asked, his voice husky with desire. But he already knew the answer. It’s him that made you soak of desire for him.

When his fingers found your clit you can’t suppress a moan that escaped your mouth. Instantly, his free hand went to your throat, a warning to not make any sound.

Tom continued his lazy circles on your bundle of nerves and you tried your best not to moan. Your teeth digging in your lower lip, you knuckles white as you grip the wood supporting you.

Slowly you feel a wave of pleasure building in your lower stomach. He seemed to notice too as he leaned closer to your ear, his breath ghosting on your neck.

“You want to come ?” His voice was laced with amusement and desire. You can’t manage more than a nod, scared of the sound that could escape your mouth if you let it.

He seemed pleased by your answer but instead of giving it to you, his fingers disappeared from your core and a whine escaped your mouth. He only tightens his grip on your throat shutting you up efficiently.

You wanted to turn to protest. You needed that release, he must give it to you. But as you turn your head, he yanks you more on the reading ledge making you gasp. Your bone hip pressed against the wood you heard him unbuckle his belt and then unzip his pants.

“If you want to come, you have to come around my cock. So no one could claim you. You are fucking mine.” He pushed your thong to the side, teasing your folds with his tip. You suppress a moan. “Mine to take, mine to fuck” 

He didn’t seem to care that you were in a public area. He didn’t seem to care for anything more than to claim you, prove you that you belong to him.

“Say you’re mine” He repeated again, almost pleading. When you do so, that’s the final string to his control. He slammed inside you with one harsh trust.

“Fuck, you’re so tight, so mine”

He didn’t give you time to adjust to his length that he started pistonning with rough thrust, his hand still on your throat. 

The pleasure is so much that moans start escaping your mouth. Mixed with the obscene sound of fucking, your moans made him lose it. 

You loved every instant. Feeling his cock filling you to the hilt and hearing his grunt from behind made your climax reach soon.

The hand on your throat traveled to your clit where he started drawing harsh circles. “Wanna cum?” You only moan for an answer. “Then cum with me. Cum with me love” 

That the moment you explosed around him moaning his name like a prayer as he fucked you through your orgasm. His release followed not long after. He hid his face in your neck, biting to muffle the sound he made. He spilled inside you.

After a moment he murmurs inside your ear “You won’t go to that date with that Hufflepuff boy”

Tom Riddle isn’t jealous. Usually.

But when he finally pulled away, when he tucked himself back into his trousers, when he smoothed out his robes as if nothing had happened.He smirked.

Because no one else would ever have you like this ever. No one but him.

Tom Riddle isn’t jealous. But you were his.

-----------------------------------------

All rights reserved. This is an original piece by ᶠᵃˡˡᵉⁿ. Divider from @aquazero •°. *࿐

[fantom-as]

Heart-Shaped Candy

fandom: harry potter

pairing: tom riddle x bimbo!reader

description: In attempt to comfort you after you break your ankle, your boyfriend Tom buys you a bag of candy.

word count: 2,6k

warnings!: hurt/comfort, fluff and smut, bimbo!reader, lollipops, candy, orgasm, dumb!reader, coquette!reader, the color pink, praise kink.

read part 1 here

╭──────༺♡༻──────╮ heart-shaped candy ╰──────༺♡༻──────╯

During one of the very few classes where you, Tom’s girlfriend, weren’t sitting right by his side, you were with him in his mind, as he couldn’t stop thinking about you no matter how hard he tried. He imagined you under the desk on your knees for him, sucking him off with those plump pink lips wrapped around his shaft and your big doe eyes focused on him while he tried to keep his attention on whatever the professor was saying. You two had been dating for over two months, and still, he could’ve come just at the fantasy of you.

But then he opened his eyes, and class was over. He was ready to go get you from where you had your class, having half a mind to drag you down the corridor and have his way with you down in one of the poorly lit areas of the castle. He was making his way to you, knowing that you were waiting just around the corner, as you were instructed to do whenever you were in separate classes, when he heard you scream.

Tom tensed and rounded the corner, to see you on the floor, your face twisted in pain while your gasping Hufflepuff classmates circled you.

“Y/N, let me help you,” your ex-best friend—Darren, Dumbass?—the one Tom told you to stay away from and you obediently listened, was crouched down next to you, his slimy hands dangerously close to your body.

“What’s going on here,” Tom asked calmly, yet the authority in his voice made the circle of Hufflepuffs to break apart, no longer shielding you from his eyes. There was an agonized frown marring your forehead, and you held your ankle with both of your hands. Tears were streaming down your face and little sobs escaped your throat—the sight made even Tom’s cold dead heart clench. Tom gave your ex-best friend a deadly look. “Don’t you dare touch her.”

The Dumbass eyed Tom suspiciously, animosity emanating from his body even as he stood up, keeping away from you.

“What happened,” Tom repeated, crouching down to you.

“She broke her ankle,” the Dumbass said.

You sniffed and sobbed. “I fell…”

That didn’t surprise Tom. The velvet pink heels were so high it was a miracle you hadn’t fallen off your feet sooner. You had told Tom they were your favorite pair and refused to wear sensible shoes no matter how many times Tom told you it was uncomfortable and impractical. You let him have his way concerning a lot of things in your life, but this was something he simply couldn’t talk you into.

“Come here, little one,” he said, putting one of his arms under your legs and the other around your back, making sure not to harm your further as he lifted you in the air. Yet you still let out an adorable little moan of pain and hid your face in his chest. “I’ll take you to Madam Pice, she’ll heal you immediately,” he said softly.

“Thank you, Tom,” you mumbled into the fabric of his uniform sweater.

In the hospital wing, Madam Pice told Tom to put you on the cot, and he did so. You were still crying, and although he liked it when he did, he soon realized that he only liked to see you cry when you two were having sex and not because you were suffering a physical injury. He put his hand on your forehead to find it hot, your cheeks flushed, and he brushed his finger over your pink-bow-tied braids. He then unbuckled the heel and took it off your injured leg, his hands moving up to take off the rose-colored knee-high sock.

Madam Pice swept into the room and, with a disapproving tut, she knelt beside the cot, rolling up the sleeves of her robes.

“Honestly,” she muttered, pulling out her wand. “Students these days have no sense of self-preservation.”

A soft, golden light emanated from the tip of her wand as she hovered it over your swollen ankle.

“There. The swelling will go down in a few minutes, but you'll still need to rest. No walking around or straining it further,” she instructed. “You'll stay in the Hospital Wing for a few hours—just to be sure. If you feel any sharp pain, let me know at once. Otherwise, try to rest.”

She gave Tom a glance, assessing whether he was going to be a help or a hindrance. Then, with one final nod, she turned on her heel and strode away.

Tom leaned it to take your still swollen yet no longer broken ankle between his cool slender fingers. Leaning in further, he placed a small kiss on the tender flesh, making goosebumps erupt on your skin. He reached out his hand to brush the remnants of tears off your flushed cheeks.

“Thank you,” you whispered. Although your relationship had started on a particularly violent note, the more time passed with Tom as your boyfriend, the more you began to realize that Tom actually just wanted to take care of you. Both in daily life, and in the bedroom. He gave you not necessarily what you wanted but what you needed. And you were grateful for that. Only you didn’t know whether you could put all those feelings into a one simple word. You hoped he knew what you meant.

“Rest, Y/N,” he said, without smiling. “I have two more classes, but after that, I’ll come take you. Don’t go anywhere on your own.”

You nodded. “Okay.”

Instead of going back to class, as Tom had promised you, he instead turned to Hogsmeade, where he planned to get you your favorite sweets. As he entered Honeydukes, the scent of sugar and cocoa instantly filled the air. The store was buzzing with students, but Tom didn’t waste any time scanning the shelves, his mind already racing with ideas of what you might like.

He grabbed a handful of Chocolate Frogs, knowing you’d always been fond of the collectible cards. Next, he made his way to the shelves of Fizzy Whizbees, their colorful, popping candies practically begging to be tried. He wandered further, eyeing the jars of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans.

He wanted something to remind you of home, something comforting in the way only Muggle treats could be. He walked over to the corner of the shop where a small collection of Muggle sweets had found their way onto the shelves. He reached for a lollipop, its swirl of pink and red and white drawing his attention, and then grabbed a pack of bubblegum—the kind that you always had in your mouth no matter the time of the day.

With his arms loaded, he made his way to the counter, where the shopkeeper smiled knowingly. “Looks like you're spoiling someone today,” they remarked, eyeing the mountain of sweets. Tom only gave them a polite look and paid for everything, already imagining the look on your face when he returned.

He was glad to find you still obediently lying in your bed, waiting for him as he had told you. “Feeling better, little one?”

You nodded, beaming up at him and rolling your ankle. “Much better,” you said, clearly in a much better mood than you were when he left you. “Madam Pice said I can leave.”

Tom nodded, coming around to your side to help you put on you knee-high socks. But instead of heels, he put on the only pair of sneakers you owned—baby pink with ribbons instead of shoelaces. Your face fell when you saw them, but you didn’t argue and let Tom put them on your feet.

“Think you can walk on your own, princess?” he asked.

“I think so.”

You stood up alright and you seemed to be in no more pain, yet Tom still kept his arm wrapped tightly around your waist to support your weight as you made your way down to the dungeons.

“Hey, I thought we’ll be going to my dorm…” you said, pouting your lip.

Tom chuckled, the sound reverberating through your ears—the sound and mannerisms of today so unlike him…

“Oh, no, little one, we’re going to my dorm. You’re my girlfriend and you got hurt. So it is my duty to take care of you properly.”

Your face fell even more because going to his bedroom meant only one thing—having sex non-stop for the rest of the weekend, and you weren’t in a mood for sex, but, as all the other times, you didn’t argue him. He was in such an unusually bright mood, you simply didn’t want to ruin it.

When he took you to his bedroom, he put you on the bed and told you not to get out and that he’d give you all you might need or want. You smiled at that.

Tom moved swiftly around his dorm, setting down the paper bag of sweets on his desk before turning back to you. His eyes softened as he took in the sight of you—still obediently perched on his bed, just as he had instructed.

“I got you something,” he said, pulling out the collection of sweets he'd gathered from Hogsmeade.

He poured them onto the blanket beside you—Chocolate Frogs, Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans, Fizzy Whizbees, a few pink sugar quills, bubblegum, and, of course, the lollipop he had specifically picked out for you. The pastel pink and white heart caught your attention, and without much thought, you reached for it.

Tom's eyes flickered with amusement as you unwrapped the candy and popped it between your lips, your tongue swirling around the sugary swirl. His gaze darkened.

He leaned back against his desk, arms crossed, watching you with an intensity that made your skin prickle. The way your lips wrapped around the lollipop, how your mouth hollowed slightly as you sucked, sent something deep and primal surging through him. His jaw tightened, his fingers tapping idly against his bicep as he tracked every slow, languid movement.

“Of all the sweets I brought you, you choose that one,” he mused, voice deceptively light.

You blinked up at him, completely unaware of how his pupils had dilated, how his body tensed with restrained control. Or maybe you were too aware. “It’s my favorite,” you mumbled around the candy, your voice slightly muffled.

Tom exhaled through his nose, a slow smirk curving his lips. His eyes never left your mouth, watching the way your tongue darted out to taste the sticky sweetness, how your lips glistened with sugar.

“Of course it is, little one,” he said, his voice lower now, almost a murmur. He pushed off the desk and moved toward you, his fingers brushing under your chin to tilt your face up. “And you don’t even realize what you’re doing to me, do you?”

You batted your eyelashes innocently, lifting your leg in his direction. “I think my leg still hurts,” you said sweetly. “Can you kiss it better?”

Tom moved onto the bed slowly, deliberately—like a serpent closing in on its prey. His movements were fluid, controlled, every inch of his body radiating an air of quiet dominance. The mattress dipped beneath his weight as he inched closer, his dark eyes locked onto you with unwavering intensity.

You were still sucking on the lollipop, blissfully unaware of the way his pupils dilated with every slow swirl of your tongue against the glossy candy. His gaze followed each movement—the hollow of your cheeks, the soft parting of your lips, the way your fingers toyed absentmindedly with the stick.

A low hum rumbled from deep in his throat, barely audible but thick with something unspoken. His hands, firm yet calculated, planted themselves on either side of you as he hovered above, caging you beneath him.

His face was close now—so close that you could feel his breath ghosting over your skin. Yet, he didn’t touch you. He simply watched, his eyes tracing the movement of the lollipop between your lips, the way your mouth glistened with the sugary sheen.

The air around you grew heavier, thick with tension.

“I want to try something,” he murmured, his voice silk-smooth but edged with something darker.

He took the lollipop from your hands and rubbed it across your lips. Back and forth. You wrapped your lips around it again, sucking on it. His eyes were on your mouth.

“Fuck,” he whispered, removing the lollipop from your mouth and kissing you, his tongue thrusting into your mouth, tasting that sweetness. You let him devour you, and he sucked on your tongue. His hands were on your hips, and you could feel his erection digging into your lower belly. You whimpered.

“Now, now, princess, enough crying for one day,” he mumbled against your lips.

Tom moved further to take off your sweater and shirt along with your skirt and socks, leaving you only in your see-through hot pink bralette and barely-there panties. He pinched your nipples through the fabric, moving it to the side to expose your breasts without taking off the bralette. He bent down, dragging his mouth across one breast, his tongue licking the stiffened nipple. Suddenly his mouth was all over your chest.

Tom lifted his head from your breasts, the heart-shaped lollipop still in his hand. He puts it in his hand, licking and coating it with his saliva before pulling it away from his mouth and bringing it to your breasts, dragging the damp candy across your nipple, circling it over and over. Groaning, you shoved your hands into his hair to keep him close and he sucked on your breasts again.

“So sweet,” he whispered.

His hands moved down. He kissed his way down your body, the inside of your knees, the front of your panties before he tosses them somewhere on the floor without a second glance.

He rubbed the lollipop on the exposed pink pearl of nerves. You shudder while he coos at you. “Doing so well, princess. Now, spread your legs. Eyes on me.”

Tom licked the lollipop before tracing your folds, your clit, up and down all over your center, making you candy-sweet. He paused at your entrance, then slowly inserted the lollipop inside you.

“Ah,” you moaned.

He pushed it further. You whimpered, closing your eyes and letting the sensation wash over you. Tom pulled the candy almost all out before thrusting it back. In and out. In and out, his movements grew erratic. He teased your clit, rubbing it in tight circles, ratcheting your pleasure, until your entire body turned to liquid and got completely out of your control. Instinctually, you lifted your hips, wanting the lollipop to go deeper.

“I’m gonna come…” you whimpered.

Tom’s breathing quickened as he picked up his pace.

“Good. Good, princess. Come all over that damn candy.”

With those words only, you came. Your body shuddered uncontrollably, your lips forming a silent O, and not so silent later, when you let out a scream of pleasure past your lips. Breathing heavily and your eyes drooping, you sank into the mattress, as Tom settled on his knees to watch you in your post-coital bliss.

He put the lollipop that was now coated with your juices back into his mouth.

“What do you say, little one? One more?”

Pouting, you shook your head.

But the smile on his face spread, turning sinister.

╭──────༺♡༻──────╮ the end ╰──────༺♡༻──────╯

[duplicitywrites]

Tom had never thought of fire as golden before, but there was plenty of it in Fiendfyre, flowing like veins through each curl of flame.

Harry was lit by that same splendour, the uncontrolled mess of his hair cradled by laurels of Tom's magic. "Tom, you need to stop this before you lose control!"

A serpent to Tom's immediate left hissed in pointed disagreement, bright sparks rolling off of its forked tongue.

"You can't control this, believe me! You're going to get yourself killed!"

If only that were true. This fire could not be compared to any other because this fire was Tom. It was an extension of his will, purely Tom Riddle through and through.

"Please," Harry said. He was begging, now. "Don't do this."

A serpent lashed out at him, but Harry sidestepped it with ease. His expression remained agonized, fearful. Tom felt heady from the sight of it. At last, he had control. At last, Harry would be forced to listen, to obey. To heel.

"I can do anything," Tom said. Beads of sweat were rolling down the sides of his face, soaking into the stiff collar of his shirt. "I can defeat you."

"Please." Harry's eyes dimmed, his wand arm now hanging limp at this side. "Please, Tom, don't."

The fire alarm blared frantically overhead, but Tom could scarcely hear it over the roaring fire.

Harry took a step forward.

"Stay back," Tom hissed. The surrounding snakes hissed with him, amplifying his voice, elevating it to something inhuman, something like Parseltongue.

Harry grit his teeth. His wand arm shook as he banished the next flaming creature to swipe at him. He took another step.

"Stop," Tom demanded, uneasy. His fingers tightened around the handle of his wand. A flaming cheetah emerged, prowling forward in fast, jerky motions that were faster than the naked eye could see.

Tom could see, though. He could see himself reflected in the lens of Harry's glasses. His image burned, his hair crowned in embers, his eyes crimson red. Like he was the devil.

🔗 some like it hot 🔥 finally working on chapter six! 👀

[charliesangel67]

reader in which tom and reader have been friends since first year but over the time tom has grown rather fascinated with her. Tom has had wet dreams about reader for some time so when he and the reader ends up sharing a bed he is nervous about having one when he's in the same bed with her. If you're comfortable I would really like it if he has a wet dreams and whispers in his sleep saying reader's name. Then reader hears it, tom wakes up embarrassed but reader teases him a little then make his dream come true (oral sex female receives then regular sex) and please make tom a little bit submissive.

Thank you in advance, sorry it's a big request!!<3

More than just friends

Tom Riddle x Fem!reader

Authors note: hii guys, so this was a request from @cedricswife - lmk if yall want a pt 2. Ahhh, omg I really hope yall enjoy this, and if you do, don't forget to like and reblog. Also guys, please request fics if you want, I'm more than happy to write them. I will also be making a tag list soon, so just comment your name/@ and what kind of fics you wanna be tagged it eg. Tom riddle, Bucky barnes....

This story is set in the same time as when the Golden Trio were at Hogwarts.

Warnings: Soft!Tom, SMUTT, oral fem!receiving, unprotected p in v sex. Fluff.

Word count- 2620

I met Tom in first year, in the great hall at the Slytherin table. At first he was staring daggers at me, then he took a seat next to mine and started a conversation. I was shocked to say the least. Tom terrified me, but he seemed truly fascinated with me. Since that day on, we were inseparable. We always sat together in class and we hung out so often that most boys were even scared to ask me out because they knew Tom’s reputation and that he would hurt them if they tried something with me. “Tom, this is actually pissing me off.” I complained as I walked into my dorm room, knowing that Tom would be sitting at my desk doing his homework. “Mmh, what is it love?” He asked in his brisky British accent that made me feel butterflies in my stomach. “Not a single guy will ask me out because they’re all either scared of you, or assume we’re dating because we hang out so much.” I whined. “And? At least I don’t have to worry about you running to me every month because you got dumped or because your man was being an ass.” He responded calmly. “Oh my lord Tom. Whatever.” I countered, annoyed at him.

Over the Christmas holidays, Tom and I would stay at the Castle, playing chess and talking until midnight. We talked about starting fifth-year and about our chosen classes. Then of course the Yule Ball and the school trip to London. “Okay, how would you feel about a second floor room, with a balcony and a view of the city?” I asked Tom over a cup of hot chocolate and a game of cards. “I’m not sure Love, are we even allowed to choose our room mate?” Tom asked with a chuckle. “I don't care, I’m gonna find a way so that we can be in the same room, because I do not want to share a room with any other smelly boys or bitchy girls.” “You are kidding right? The other week you were complaining to me that I was restricting your chance of getting a boyfriend. And you called me smelly?! Who do you think you are?” “Well clearly your favourite because I’m the only person you hang out with other than Draco.” I countered, “And yeah, I’ve changed my mind about wanting a boyfriend, Cormac tried to hit on me the other day and it was a disgusting experience.” I laughed off. What I didn’t notice however was the glint in Tom’s eyes as he watched me laugh, he found my smile so attractive, and he found me so fascinating. 

It had been a week since Tom and I hung out in the common room that December night. Students were returning from their Christmas holidays even though classes didn’t start for another 5 days. This did give me more time to talk to Professor McGonagall about the room situations for our upcoming London trip. However, I didn’t see Tom all night, not in the common room, in any of the classes or even in the Great Hall. But I knew Tom well enough to know that if he does not want to be found then he won’t let himse;f be found. That night however, against my knowledge, Tom was dreaming about me. Nothing sweet of course, in fact it was all dirty. Tom dreamt of fucking his best friend, of giving her head, of playing with her tits and hearign her moan his name. It was what he had longed for ever since fourth-year when she complained to him about not being able to get a boyfriend because of him. That made Tom proud that people thought he was y/n’s boyfriend and that she was safe from all these disgusting boys that only want to use her for her body, like Cormac. Tom wasn’t sure what Cormac did or said to y/n but he was sure it wasn’t something very nice if she didn’t feel comfortable sharing it, even with him.

These dreams went on and on for the next couple of days. Tom couldn’t control it, he just dreamt if fuckign his best friend over and over again. Then came the day, it was mid April of fifth-year and the students were getting ready to leave for London. That included Tom and y/n. “C’mon Y/n, have you got your stuff packed for the trip?” Tom asked as he sat outside my dorm with his one duffle bag, “Yeah, I think so. Can I get a bit of help please.” I asked as I struggled to carry my bags out of my room. “We are going away for 5 days y/n. Why do you need so many bags?” Tom asked as he grabbed my suitcase and duffle bag. “Because I just do.” I replied.  Tom then helped me carry my 3 bags out to the Great Hall where everyone was meeting so that we could get the Thestral-Carriages to take us to Hogsmead station. Naturally, Tom and I sat in the same compartment on our entire 10 hour train trip to London. We talked, and I sat in silence when Tom read but otherwise, it was a pretty boring trip. So boring in fact that we even started playing smash or pass whenever someone walked by our train compartment. “Okay, her?” I asked as Cho Chang, a Ravenclaw girl we only know from the D.A organisation walked past our compartment, “Hard pass, you know I have a type y/n.” Tom opposed, “Yeah, okay. Sorry.” I responded, putting my hands up in defeat. “What about him?” Tom asked, “Ooh, I don’t know. I’d probably say smash for him.” I shrugged, “What? You’d smash Blaise?” Questioned Tom, clearly jealous at my response. “Yeah, he’s hot. What’s your problem? Are you jealous?” I teased. Tom, not one to express his feelings, just shrugged and ignored my remark because he knew I was right but he just didn’t want to admit it. 

“Welcome to London Tom. The city of money and horrible weather. How do you feel about being here?” I asked him. “I want to kill myself.” He replied dryly, but somehow managed to sneak a little smile when he saw my smile at his snide remark. The smile didn’t go unnoticed by me. The professors led the fifth-year students to the exit of the station and to a pick up area. I saw taxi drivers holding signs that read surnames and I giggled at a few of them, elbowing Tom a couple times so that we could giggle at some of the names together. It was already past 7pm when we got off the train, so waiting for the bus took us up to about 7:20. Then I spotted a purple night bus arriving at the exit where the Hogwarts crowd was assembled. “Okay students, can we please be respectful as we board the bus.” Professor McGonagall yelled over the chatter as the fifth-years started boarding the night bus. A man named Stan Shunpike greeted us at the entrance of the bus. It didn’t take anymore than 10 minutes to arrive at the hotel that the school had booked for us to stay at in London. 

Upon entering the hotel lobby, the professors went to the main reception to get the keys for the rooms. “Alrighty students, please listen up for your names.” announced Professor Lupin, one of my favourite teachers. “Harry, Ron, Hermione and Parvati are all in room 214. Susan, Padma, Justin and Vincent are all in room 215……..”  At one point I completely zoned out from what Professor Lupin was talking about until I felt Tom pull on my sleeve, “C’mon y/n.” “What?” I asked him, completely distracted, “We are in a room together, room 236.” Tom responded. “Just us two?” I questioned. “Please try and listen next time y/n. Yes, just us two in one room, in one bed, unfortunately, due to us being the only Slytherin boy and girl that get along so well that even the teachers think we are dating, so they put us in a room together.” Tom continued, clearly not phased by us sharing a bed. I was struggling to catch up with his speed as he was basically running up the stairs with all my luggage. I came to an abrupt stop when Tom stopped to open our room door. It was a nice, crisp bedroom, 1 large king sized bed, a walk in closet and a large bathroom. “Gee, I think we won the jackpot with this room.” I announced as I threw myself onto the bed. I was quite sure I saw Tom smirk as he locked the door, I then felt his strong hands grip my legs and pull me off the bed, laughing as I protested and kicked him lightly. “Put me down Tommy.” I yelled, Instead of putting me down, he threw me back onto the bed. “Just so you know, You’re the only person that can call me Tommy.” he smirked and pointed at me, a single strand of hair falling out, in front of his face, inviting me to brush it away, Tom looking way too sexy for me to only want him as a friend. 

That night as we both got ready for bed, I panicked, releasing I only brought my sexy pj’s incase I got lucky one night, and not my comfy ones. Tom, noticing me in distress, asked what was wrong. “What’s wrong Love?” “I brought the wrong pj’s.'' I groaned. “Why? What’s the problem with these?” Tom asked, I held them up for him to see and I heard him whistle. “What?” I laughed, “Well I think you bought the wrong pair, where did you buy them anyway? Sexyland?” He asked. I let out a chuckle, leaning forward as I laughed, unknowingly giving Tom a clear view of my cleavage and the top of my breasts. I heard him take a strong breath and I noticed him adjusting his pants a little as I got up to have a shower, brushing off the reactions from Tom as nothing. After my shower, when I walked out in my pj’s I knew Tom would have some kind of reaction, like any average teenage boy when they see more boobs than expected. It was already awkward sleeping in the same bed as my boy bestfriend who I have known since we were 11, but then me sleeping in pj’s that showed half my boobs and him sleeping in nothing but a pair of boxers made it just a little bit more awkward.

I seemed almost like our roles were reversed. Instead of me falling asleep first and Tom staying up until past midnight reading, It was him who fell asleep first. It couldn’t have been much past 10 o’clock when I heard my name being said. It was muffled so it could’ve most likely come from another room, but as I leaned over to the bedside table to put my book in the drawer and turn the small night light off, I realised that it was Tom who was calling my name. Not even calling it, he was moaning my name. I started shaking his body, trying to wake him up. “Tom, wake up.” I whispered. “What is it y/n?” He groaned. “Why the fuck are you moaning my name in your sleep?” I asked him as he rolled over to face me. “What do you mean?” He asked, “I mean, why the fuck are you moaning my name? Are you having wet dreams or some shit?” I questioned. I saw Tom blush and that was how I knew I was right. “Oh my gosh” I teased, “My best friend since first year has secretly had a crush on me.” I giggled. “How do you feel about that?” Tom asked. “Well, I am glad that you feel the same way.” I announced, clearly surprising Tom because he thought only he felt that way.

“Well, why don't we reenact what you dreamt of Tommy” I told him, noticing a smile creep upon his lips. “I would love that.” He responded. “So, tell me. How did your dream start?” I asked as I let Tom take control of my actions. “Well, first,” Tom didn’t even finish his sentence before he pulled my pj shorts down and dived straight into my pussy. I moaned and pulled at his hair as he licked through my folds and his lips attached to my clit. “Oh fuck Tommy, I didn’t know you had such a mouth on you.” I moaned. I heard Tom chuckle and look up into my eyes smirking, “Do I make you feel good doll?” “Fuck yes.” I moaned, “‘Should’ve just fucked me in third-year when I complained to you about not getting a boyfriend.” I laughed, quickly replaced by a moan as Tom sucked on my clit. “Oh shit, I’m close Tommy, please.” “You gonna come sweet girl?” He asked, returning his attention to my clit. “Mmh, yes please Tommy, please.” I shrieked, as I came undone on Tom's tongue. “Fuck, you taste so good sweet girl.” he moaned as he continued eating my pussy, and licking up my juices. 

“Oh fuck Tom, stop teasing just stick it in already.” I moaned when Tom finally thrusted his thick cock inside my wet pussy. “Oh shit, you feel so good doll.” Tom moaned, thrusting in and out of my soaking cunt, earning moans and mumbled words from me. “Mmh” I hummed, feeling the tip of his cock hitting that perfect spot every single time. “Fuck, angel you feel so good, so tight around my cock,” he kept thrusting harder in and out of my pussy. Harder, Faster, Stronger. “Oh fuck… fuck…fuck.” all I could utter were moans and swears of pleasure. “Oh, you make me feel so fucking good Tommy,”  this made Tom go even harder, hitting my g-spot and every right spot in my cunt. Tom placed his thumb on my clit, massaging it in circles and whispering in my ear, “You gonna come all over my cock sweet girl?” “Yes please Tommy, Please.” Tom increased his speed on my clit and thrusted harder into my pussy. I felt his cock twitch inside me, knowing that he was close, then he pulled out. I groaned in annoyance at his actions, “I want you to ride me, I want you to control me and make yourself come.” Tom said. I cradled his thighs, sinking down on his cock once again. “Oh fuck,” I moaned “I’m gonna ride you until I pass out.” I announced, causing Tom to look at me surprised. “Are you really?” he asked, smirking as I started bouncing on his cock. I bounced and rode his cock, meanwhile massaging my clit, moaning Tom's name as he started thrusting up into my cunt. “You gonna come inside me Tommy?” I asked, his cock twitching inside me. “Fuck yes.” He groaned in pleasure, securing his hands on my hips, guiding me on his cock. Finally, I breathed in deeply, giving myself one more push on my clit, arching my back as I came undone again. Tom’s cock twitching rapidly before he came inside my pussy. “Oh fuck,” we both moaned as I rode out our high. 

“Shit Tom, why have you been keeping that from me all this time?” I asked, laughing a little while I lay, cuddling with Tom. “Well, you never showed any interest in me, so I never asked you to be my girlfriend.” “Will you be my boyfriend Tommy?” “Sure doll.” he responded with a smile. 

[zeebee3]

Queen, I read almost all your recs and wanted to thank you.💙😍 I liked that most of them featured the breeding kink (I didn't want children before but now I might be reconsidering hehehehe).

If you could suggest more, I wouldn't be mad.😳🙏

Woohoo, so happy you read and enjoyed so many of them!! Your wish is my command--always happy to rec fics 😍

Again, in no particular order...

Dramione

She Will by Undertheglow. Draco/Hermione, written in future tense and poetic as HELL while still being scorching hot. I adore this one.

Dépaysement by Setissma. If you haven't read this OH MY GOD you're in for a treat. I can't be eloquent about how much I love it. It has it all (fake marriage, forced domesticity, tension and smut and feeelingggsssssss) and I can't be chill about it.

One Whole by SaffronGin. Don't be intimidated by the chapter count, they are delicious little bites. This fic is a JOURNEY in every sense and I had the best time following it as a WIP. In fact, I need to do reread now that it's complete--keeping the tab open!

The Unintended Consequences of Purposive Action by ellieauthor. When an accidental bit of roleplay has unintended consequences 🤭 Everything Ellie writes is whip-smart and banter-rich, and this is a peak example of it.

The Delivery Clause by ThornedHuntress. You've heard of arranged marriages, well the hot new thing is an arranged pregnancy. Enjoyyyy!

A Tentacular Spectacular by Sugarquilling. Hermione fucks the giant squid while Draco watches. I mean...idk what else to say about it (except read it, it's glorious)

We Fell In Love In October by ohthedrarry. This is a socmed AU (textfic) and dkfjsldfjskdfjl I just love it

CHESS CLUB by Ivy_and_right. Another textfic. Draco has a virginity kink, and Hermione is a virgin. Again, idk what else to say about it except that you will stay up all night reading it

icebreaker by ninepiecesofcrait. Nine really outdid herself with this one guys. PHEW BOY. Ginny gives Hermione a sex toy as a not-so-joking joke, but oops it's wrapped identically to Draco's gift. Guess which one he takes home. Guess what he decides to set to rights 🤗

For I Have Sinned by spicyxpisces and Stars_in_motion. Priest!Draco, devout!Hermione. We're not going to talk about how many times I've read this one. Join me in the soft-and-gentle edging depravity 🙏

atonement by takenbytheview. You know that scene in Atonement, when he writes That Letter then gives her the wrong one? Yeah. That. That but Dramione; That but somehow BETTER than it's ever been 🫠🫠🫠

Not Dramione

I Did Something Bad by charingfae. Tom Riddle/Hermione, with time travel and tension and the most toxic flirting you've ever seen. I think about this one all the time.

Voussoir by setissma. Look, I'm just gonna out myself as a die-hard Setissma fangirl. Just go through their backlog and read everything--do it do it! This is a Draco/Harry/Hermione triad fic, and reading it makes me both yearny and calm (as with basically everything else Setissma writes does).

Hydra by setissma. Omg weird, another Setissma? How'd that get in here? Pansy/Harry. READ IT READ IT READ IT. These are the characterizations I would die to be able to write.

Hopefully you find more fics to enjoy from here! And don't forget to kudos and, even more meaningful, comment so the writers know you enjoyed them too. It really does make all the difference 🥰🫶

[artytaeh]

OMG Im I love with prof tom like that is finesse and exactly how he would be

tho can u write a prof tom x prof reader or auror reader where impresses him with her knowledge and grace of controlling situations that get out of hand or beats at chess or sum and kinda leaves him speechless and doesn’t give him special attention cuz he hot

Mansi

i'm so relieved! 😭 i confess that i wrote the professor!riddle post on one go, while i was sick this week and couldn't sleep 😓 so i was a little scared that he felt too uncanny in comparison to his canon / fanon perception. BUT YAY! I'M REALLY HAPPY PPL LIKED.

auror!reader and professor!reader have a lot of similarities. although for different reasons, the two of them are gracious and knowledgeable in ways that impress tom, as someone whose intense curiosity had never died, even with age.

to have the career that auror!reader conquered and being specifically sent alone for a recognition mission, means that reader is observant, witty, and competent.

her weariness is a challenging obstacle that tom intends to surpass, if only to not raise suspicions to his side. simultaneously, he can't deny that woman like her—intelligent, capable, ambitious—aren't exciting for him. tom has a sort of superiority complex and, in a way, her existence humbles him; makes tom be on his toes, less careless and arrogant with his actions. i can see tom being suggested to aid auror!reader through her investigation, since she's staying in hogwarts temporarily, which tom accepts with grace. and tom can't say that he's not eager for her mental games, careful conversation that leaves their lips and is expressed by playing chess together in his office, after classes.

in tom's eyes, she's flirting with him. what better way to tempt a man like him, if not by challenging him? he knows that reader finds him attractive, too; that the tension between them bristles. tom would be lying if he doesn't imagine bending auror!reader over his desk and fuck the superiority out of her.

... or be the one whose arrogance crumbles to pieces, if it means having the glorious view of her on top of him, maybe those delicate fingers around his neck. fighting for dominance suddenly is hot in his eyes.

on the other hand, professor!reader is interesting for tom for a whole other reason. even though tom is more interested in other areas, he has the opinion that every single subject is necessary, because it offers insight that one day, can be useful for him. her patience, knowledge and calmness upon interacting with beasts impresses him—how she seems to have everything under control, even when a hypogriff's agitation could be dangerous.

truthfully, tom thinks that it's a subject he couldn't teach; not like reader does, bringing students to safely interact with beasts, the way hagrid did. tom isn't sure if he could do that, given some beasts' weariness of him. to interact with another professor who's passionate about her job, in the same way he is—seeking more and more knowledge, invested on teaching competent young wizards—is something that definitely would be attractive in his eyes.

besides, a few topics from his subject are intertwined with reader's own. another excuse to have him looming over her, excuses to steal her attention for him—away from other men. the shared vocation for knowledge could be something that tom uses for his own gain: slowly coaxing reader to the darker side of her subject, the correlation between the dark arts and untameable beasts. furthermore, tom wonders if he can convince reader to navigate the forbidden restricted section with him—and maybe getting to taste her lips (perhaps more than that...) against those dusty shelves.

teaser of both aus. i'm working on the six readers at the same time 😓 i'm committed to this i swear. ✋

[greattemptation]

mid-story lines

Thank you for the tag @xalandrix, whose snippets can be found here and @citrusses, whose snippets can be found here! Please go read them, they are wonderful. I've been told the goal is ten snippets from the middle of ten fics or wips. Now, let's see what sort of trouble we can get up to....

Seasons, drarry, E, 9k for @apricitydays-lazynights

There are the big east-facing windows looking out over the gardens that he used to open to admit the fragrance of roses and the songs of nearby thrushes. There’s a desk with magical cubbies, outfitted with extension charms and hexed to bite the unwelcome hand. There’s a closet full of clothes from every age and stage, preserved, almost waiting, as if Draco’s whole childhood were before him instead of behind him.

Brood, drarry, G, 911 for @hoko-onchi-writes

Harry felt like an overripe fruit forgotten in the sun all afternoon. He was squishy and soft with exertion, overfilled with the too-sweet aftertaste of adrenaline and adventure. He had led a dragon, lied to a dragon.

Pilgrimage, drarry, E, 365

From his lips falls a whispered liturgy, from this throat, the moan of a hymn, and from his lungs, the sob of a kyrie.

Baggage Claim, drarry, M, 4k

He couldn't look at Draco for this. They'd had too many arguments like this over the past months. But he also couldn't not answer, not anymore. "When we argue, you leave. No, let me finish. When we argue, you leave, and you never use to leave, and we've always argued." "You never used to panic" "Well, you never used to leave."

He would not stay, abraxas malfoy/tom riddle, M, 777 for @fastbrother

We ruled our days. He was a dark and beguiling leader among our cohort, powerful in a way that could be felt if not understood. I was his bright counselor, his confidant, sitting at his right hand and whispering in his ear. They all bent to us, to him, to whatever power we perceived in him.

On the Great, Wide, Pirate Sea, drarry, E, 808

He had seized me by the front of my shirt and pushed me back, back, farther back, right up to the bulwark. I thought he was going to kiss me right up until the moment he pushed me over. I don’t know how many times he has to throw me from the ship to see it coming. If I think about it too much, the gentle swell of the sea underneath me almost feels like the fall itself, in that funny way behind my belly button, like a tug of arousal.

It's your damn bird, drarry, M, 334 for @starquestingfordrarry

“You got a letter from Blaise.” Harry’s tone was blank, and Draco slowly pushed himself up. He gingerly took the parchment and began reading. Oh. He felt his face flame. Oh, Merlin railing bloody Morgana— "I think you should read it out loud." Eyes quickly darting up to Harry's face above him, Draco ran his tongue against the backs of his teeth then swallowed. Right.

A few WIP selections...

A lil' dare-turned-fic problem from several months ago for @apricitydays-lazynights and @moonmanateee

He stumbles when shoved, but he laughs, because his other hand is in his pocket, and the glass vial is smooth and warm and promising against his fingers. His shoulder finds a wall, bumpy and brick and cool against his whiskey-hot body, and he rolls against it, shirt snagging. He tips the vial into his mouth and lets it fall.  The pinch of the bricks against his back dims; the heat in his cheeks changes somehow; the limitless, perennial clench in his gut becomes unimportant. The lights of Dism Alley swirl in front of him, and they’re so beautiful that Draco wishes, just briefly, that his eyelids weren’t quite so heavy. 

Time Travel Fic!

He shook his head to dispel the buzzing from his ears. Gentle, concerned words floated through his head. Hermione had tried talking to him about anxiety so many times he felt dizzy with it. He did feel dizzy with it.   His knee went wobbly underneath him, and he stumbled. Confused, looking down, he saw his hands rippling. But that couldn’t be right. And as if he were a stone cast upon the water, the rest of the world rippled with him.

(Abandoned??) Infidelity fic

Tonight sex is a reverent thing. Draco instructs Harry off the floor, out of his clothes, into his lap. Draco kisses him softly, slowly, from his chapped lips to his stubble to the soft places under his clavicles. Harry’s hands are tired and heavy on Draco’s shoulders and neck, and Draco’s hands wander softly and freely in the radiant heat of the fire, over the smooth landscape of Harry’s back and ribs, dipping between his buttocks, curving under his thighs.

If you were tagged up there, consider yourself tagged down here, PLUS @jtimu, @rainstormradish, @kamaela, @phoebe-delia, and @beloved-child-of-the-house. Let us see inside those fics! Show us!

[ohthewh0rror]

LETS TAKE 5.

˚₊ ⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆ ₊˚ prompt — Can you fix the fractures in your relationship or is it doomed to shatter?

Pairing: Tom Riddle x Reader

Word Count: 1.5K

You knew when agreeing to be with Tom that, in some way, you’d always come in second place. During your school years, it was to his academics. Now that the two of you have graduated, it seems he’s found a new venture to spend his time on. It didn’t bother you as much while you two were in school, but now that you’re adults, it’s becoming harder to overlook.

"What do you want? For me to throw away and forget all that I've been working towards?" Tom asked, his voice raising to almost a yell. What he said just left you even more confused. Throw away what he’s been working towards? Does he mean the pay raise at Borgin and Burkes? Because truthfully you were happy about the thought of a pay raise. The two of you weren’t exactly well off, and it was a struggle to keep up with the bills you two had, so it’d be a much welcomed raise. You sighed, exasperated, you truly couldn’t believe this had turned into an argument, “no! All I'm asking for is some of your time."

Time: something he didn’t seem to have for you lately.

You just wanted him to take a step back and spend more time with you when not working. It seems like you aren’t even second place anymore, whatever he’s researching took second place. You’ve tried asking him what he’s looking into, but he’s tight-lipped. Any question and peek over his shoulder at his writings have been brushed off. The only time he gave you some semblance of an answer was just to tell you that it’s for something he’s been working on since his years at Hogwarts.

Tom speaking jolted you from your thoughts, “and what makes you so worthy of my time?”. Your heart plummeted as you forced yourself to stay rooted in your spot, eyes locked on his. It wasn’t the worst thing he has said to you, but the sneer on his face combined with his choice words made you feel small. Insignificant. Like you were just some stranger standing before him, and not his significant other of 3 years.

Your mind raced for an answer, but you kept drawing short. The reality of meaning so little to him left you feeling numb. The only thing you wanted now was to leave and collect yourself, to try and talk yourself out of making the rash decision of ending things permanently.

"That is a new low, even for you Tom,” you took a deep breath, “but it is nice to finally know where I stand with you.” You could feel your face get hot as tears blurred your vision, threatening to spill over. “Yes, it was time you learned your place,” Tom said, his gaze cold and unrelenting. You gave a quick nod, not trusting yourself to speak anymore. Grabbing your coat and purse you decided it was time to leave, you could only hope your closest friend didn’t mind you coming over unannounced.

Tom made no move to stop you, and though you knew it wouldn’t happen, a small part of you wish Tom’s collected demeanor would crack. That he would beg you not to leave, telling you he was just upset and acting like an ass. But that wasn’t Tom, the world would crumble to ash before he acted in such a way.

Instead, he let you leave.

You had been at your friends house for a week before you heard anything from Tom. The morning you finally got an owl from him had been a beautiful morning. You could hear the chirping of morning birds as rays of sunlight filtered in through the crack of the curtains. Taking your time to get out of bed and get ready for the day as you had no plans. And, most importantly, no one to answer to. It was a foreign, but freeing feeling that you were getting more accustomed to by the day.

You had just put the final touches on your hair, getting ready to go out and do some shopping when there was a sharp tapping on the bedroom window. You peaked back into the room and saw an owl perched on the window sill, patiently waiting for the letter to be taken. Walking to the window, you opened it, gingerly taking the note and sending the owl off with a treat as payment.

Opening the note it read:

12:45 — Meet me at Honeyshine’s.

— T.R.

‘Straight to the point, I guess,’ you thought to yourself. But then again, why would you ever think otherwise. Looking at the clock you saw you had an hour until you had to meet him. At least that left you just enough time to browse the other stores in the area and maybe find something nice for yourself.

Unsurprisingly, Tom was already there, waiting for you outside the door when you walked up. Nothing about Tom ever seemed to change, and you didn’t think it ever would. Tom opened the door for you, placing a hand on the small of your back, guiding you in. Neither of you spoke a word until the both of you had been seated, tucked away in a corner away from everyone.

“How have you been?” Tom asked. The question irked you if you were being honest. The way he could act so casual, like your relationship wasn’t consumed by hairline fractures that threatened the very foundation of your bond. But, you’d play along if that’s what kept the peace, even just for a moment longer.

“I've been alright,” you said. Tom gave you a silent nod, his face giving away nothing about how he truly felt. It made you nervous, was this the day that you and Tom went your separate ways? You’d hope the day would never come, but if he wanted to leave you, you weren’t going to stop him. The relationship has begun to feel so one sided, you wondered if Tom truly wanted you around or if he just liked the idea.

The idea of someone waiting for him at the end of the day. Someone to go home to, unwind with. So it’s not just an empty apartment waiting for him, the stillness of the empty rooms reminding him that he is alone in this world. Though, perhaps you were just reading too much into Tom. He never was the sentimental type, you doubt he thought of things that way.

Reaching across the table, Tom’s hand grabbed yours, his thumb running across your fingers. He opened his mouth, before closing it again, seemingly rethinking what he was going to say. After a beat he brought your hands to his lips, placing a gentle kiss on your knuckles, “I…apologize…for what I said to you. A part of my research led to a dead end and I was frustrated, but I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”

So that’s what he was talking about that day. That Merlin-forsaken research; that was an argument for another day though. The fate of your relationship was teetering on the edge of ending, and you’d rather be in a stable place in your relationship before bringing it up again.

You stared at Tom for a while, letting him hold your hand from across the table. Neither of you said anything as you thought over his words.

The idea of walking away was tempting you; whispering sweet words in your ear about how free you’ve felt the past week. How you got to dress how you wanted, to lay in bed for however long you wanted, and talk to who you wanted. It almost seemed your best options was to count your losses and walk away while given the opportunity. But, something kept you from getting out of the chair and calling him out on his terrible apology.

The poisonous words of insecurity and dependency hissing in the opposite ear being the reason you were still seated. It was urging you to accept the apology. Telling you how Tom was your first everything, and you shouldn’t rush to leave him because of a silly argument. What if you never find anyone else? What if Tom is the only one willing to put up with you? Do you really want to leave him behind, especially when neither of you have anyone else?

You looked away, weighing your options, though you already knew what you were going to do. Tom’s hand that was holding yours, let your hand go as it came up to cup your cheek. Immediately your head tilted, leaning further into his touch. It almost scared you how quickly this man could have you back under his thumb with just a little bit of his attention. A small smile graced his face, as he knew you’d forgiven him, and it served to only further pull you in.

Affection was hard to come by with Tom, and he had you eating out the palm of his hand with just the simplest touch, “let’s get home, I will show you just how much I missed you this past week.”

You knew you’d always be last on his list of priorities, but if it meant getting the smallest of affection from Tom then you’d learn to live with your place in his life.

[lucaswarmhotchocolate]

Harry Potter finally got his first boyfriend, Tom Riddle. Honestly Harry still can't believe it, he never expected to have a chance with such an incredibly popular, beautiful, and gifted wizard in a million years - especially as a fourth year - but the sixth year prefect actually asked Harry out.

The only downside to their relationship is that Tom's dad is... unique. The man probably isn't that bad, but every time Harry sees Voldemort he gets this odd feeling in his stomach, and even after going with tom to the manor library he still can't ever quite shake off that strangely hot feeling.

One night, Harry goes over to Tom's to study as usual, but Tom falls asleep mid-study session. Harry sits and watches him for a while, not wanting to wake up the poor boy but also not wanting to leave until he has to. When the clock strikes 6 he knows he should go back home, so he writes a note for tom to find when he wakes up and quietly packs up his things.

On his way to the foyer, Harry runs into Voldemort, who insists he accompany him to the floo. "A proper host never let's his guests go unaccompanied," he had said. Harry didn't argue, not wanting to seem rude but also not upset at how close he was to Voldemort. The man was unapproachable at best, but for some reason Harry couldn't resist the invitation to stay close. He smelled vaguely like leather conditioner and a smoldering fire, and it was doing something to Harry...

The gentle touch of Voldemort's hand across his back didn't help him focus, and Voldemort was already leading him down an unfamiliar hallway before he realized they weren't going to the foyer. Voldemort had led them into a side room, far away from his sleeping son, and he was moving closer to Harry, closer, closer-

2 hours later Harry walked limped out of the spare office with messier hair than usual, conspicuous bruises on his neck, and a disheveled uniform (underwear not included, at some point Voldemort must have vanished them into the abyss instead of a nearby surface). The only dilemma Harry faced after this beautiful night was whether he should break up with Tom or not... well, he'd sleep on it and write Voldemort at some point. Maybe this was just a one-time thing.

It was not just a one-time thing.

[metalomagnetic]

I was re-reading Dissonance and I wanted to ask if Abraxas ever kept the poison chandelier? Like is it a treasured family heirloom? Or does Lucius just inherit it when his dad dies with no clue why they have this dangerous, tacky piece of decor he can't get rid of because Lord Voldemort vaguely complimented(?) it one time?

It's hilarious that you sent me this ask, while I am still laughing myself to tears (I just read your comment 1 minute ago).

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The 'homoerotic chandelier' (I am STILL laughing, thank you, truly) is, of course, gaudy; just horrid, really, there's a reason no one was buying it, even with Tom's outstanding sale talents.

Being an impulse purchase (a horny purchase), Abraxas didn't think it through- how on earth will he explain this monstrosity to his father?

He hides it in the dungeons, knowing his father doesn't go there (draft and all).

After Tom disappears, Abraxas might, or might not, visit the dungeons to have a look at it from time to time. He sent hundreds of letters to Tom, but they all returned unopened, so he's convinced his enemy-lover is dead. His cold, tiny heart, is broken.

Once his dad finally dies, Abraxas moves the chandelier to Gringotts, wrapped in a secure box, in the hopes he won't have to think about it (Tom) anymore, if it isn't in his house. At first, he wanted to destroy it, but he couldn't make himself. (It's lucky he didn't try, because that was one CURSED chandelier that would have reacted poorly to violence).

A decade or so later, Lord Voldemort shows up.

Abraxas is furious (happy)! How dare that mudblood be even more powerful than when he left? (how dare Tom just show up, as if Abraxas didn't mourn for him, thought him dead, and grew stupidly attached to an ugly chandelier as a stand in for Tom?)

Everyone is playing this silly game, pretending not to recognise this is Tom Riddle. Abraxas cannot wait to actually meet him face to face and spit 'Riddle' at him; he is a Malfoy, Riddle doesn't scare him! Alas, before he can meet him, he hears old classmates are dropping dead all over the place (the only thing they had in common was that they knew the name Riddle) and he reconsiders. It's not that he's afraid (he's terrified), but he's just cautious. Yes, cautious. He determines is better to avoid Riddle (even if his broken, even tinier and colder heart longs to see him again).

But then his stupid son comes back with a horrid brand on his arm (he remembers Riddle doodling it in his schoolboy silly journal) and Abraxas is horrified. Furthermore, Rodolphus keeps saying Voldemort is unnaturally close to Lucius, that they have many one on one meetings, and Abraxas has had ENOUGH. So he goes to face Riddle and tell him to stay away from his son (he has no idea that once, long ago, his own father went to tell Tom to stay away from Abraxas. Apparently it's a Malfoy tradition, now.)

Anyway, things don't go as planned, Abraxas freezes when he sees what Riddle had done to his previously perfect face. He freezes when he feels the *power* emanating from him. He ends up pretending he doesn't recognise him.

It's a long and complicated story (really, it is) but eventually Abraxas invites Voldemort to the Manor ( to discuss Lucius, of course, no other reason. Not like Abraxas had decade long fantasies of bringing Riddle to his Manor and fucking him in the master bedroom or anything like that). On a whim, he has the chandelier brought back from Gringotts and hangs it in the dining room.

Riddle's new waxy, harsh face does something funny, shows some emotion for once, when he sees it. Abraxas is suddenly hot all over, but they attempt to talk normally until Lucius comes home, bows to Riddle ( the indignity! Lucius should only bow to Abraxas) and then, with a sneer, asks if Abraxas has lost his mind, what is that ugly chandelier doing in their lovely home?

The chandelier apparently doesn't take the insult in stride, and , with a thunder like noise, starts raining poison down on Lucius.

It's fine, in the end. Riddle was always good with spells of all kind, the arrogant mudblood, so he fixes Lucius up, and then sends him to get some rest.

The next morning, when Lucius stumbles out of his room, with a headache from the remaining after effects of the poison, he witnesses his lord getting out of his father's room.

He blinks. Once, twice. He rubs his eyes, frozen.

"You're hallucinating," Lord Voldemort tells him. "From the poison. Go back to bed."

Lucius decides that yes, he must be hallucinating (he dearly hopes so, because why else would he see the dark lord, robe not entirely buttoned up, leaving his father's room at dawn?), and he retreats to the safety of his room.

Another decade later, when his father dies, Lucius decides to leave the chandelier in place ( in his father's room, where it was moved after it assaulted Lucius). He thinks it's wiser not to mess with the thing. Besides, it seemed to matter quite a lot to his old man; Lucius swears his father loved that ugly monstrosity more than he ever loved Lucius.

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Thank you so much for your comment, and you're at fault for this lengthy, cracky answer! I hope you enjoy it! ❤️