#Tom Riddle x reader

[enha-doodles]

SLYTHERIN GUYS REACTION TO YOU BEING SASSY TO THEM | ✧⁺。

Pairing : (Mattheo , Tom , Theodore, Lorenzo, Draco) x reader

Note : yes guyss I'm back with my broken humour because it seems y'all love this as much as I do , so enjoyyy . Tho i do apologise for the lame jokes lol and tysm for 600 <3

Warnings : cursing , not proofread , mostly crack lol

Mattheo riddle

As you deliver your sassy comment, Mattheo's eyes light up with amusement. "Oh, someone's feeling feisty today," he chuckles, leaning in closer. "I absolutely love it when you're sassy, darling. Keep it up."

He can't help but tease you more, knowing full well that your sassiness only adds to your charm in his eyes. Flirty whore.

Tom riddle

Your sassy remark is met with a chilling glare from Tom. "I believe you've forgotten who you're speaking to," he says coolly, his tone dripping with authority.

"Remember, I am the Dark Lord. Disrespect is not tolerated." You quickly realize that challenging the Dark Lord might not be the wisest move. Mental note: no sass with the Dark Lord.

Theodore Nott

Bursting into laughter . Theodore finds your remark absolutely hilarious. "Well, well, looks like someone's in a bad mood," he chuckles, nudging you playfully.

"Okay, chill cara mia, I'm just messing with you." He effortlessly turns the situation into a lighthearted joke, making it clear that your sassiness is more entertaining than anything else , laughing his way through the suffering lmaooo

Lorenzo Berkshire

Surprised and slightly offended, Lorenzo raises an eyebrow in confusion. "Okay, but why are you sassing me?" he asks, genuinely puzzled. "Did I miss something?"

You quickly backtrack, assuring him that it was just a playful jab and that there's no real issue. He nods, still a bit puzzled but willing to let it slide.

Draco malfoy

Not one to back down, Draco meets your sass with double the sass. "Oh, it seems we're playing that game today, are we?" he says with a smirk, his eyes sparkling mischievously.

"Well then, buckle up, darling. Two can play at this game." You realize you've unleashed the Slytherin bratty princess, and it looks like things are about to get even sassier.

。　　　　✧　　　　⁺　 　 　。

TAGLIST : @sugarcandydoll @helendeath

[prettybabybaby]

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

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

reader’s house is not mentioned

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

content: noncon

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[sadnymi]

「 ✦ How Would The Slytherin boys React After you tell them you’re pregnant:✦ 」

[Mattheo Riddle-Theodore Nott-Lorenzo Berkshire-Draco Malfy-Tom Riddle-Regulus Black]

•Mattheo Riddle

1.Silence: You blurt out the news, a nervous flutter in your chest. Mattheo stares at you, processing the information. Don't panic! This is his initial shock absorbing mode.

2. More Silence: You try again. Still, silence. Don't take it personally; his mind is racing a million miles a minute.

3. The Disappearance Act: By evening, Mattheo might be MIA. Don't fret! This is probably him needing some space to grapple with the news. (Don't chase him to Knockturn Alley, though.)

4. Awkward Return: When he finally returns, you launch into a "what-are-we-going-to-do" speech. But wait! He cuts you off...

5. "Hey, it's okay” : Mattheo might surprise you with a calm demeanor. This doesn't mean he isn't nervous, but he's trying to reassure you (and maybe himself).

6. "I want it too." : Prepare for a confession! Mattheo, the king of nonchalance, might admit he wants this, with you. This might be followed by an apology for his earlier silence."Sorry, I was just shocked earlier. Shouldn't have reacted that way."

7. Confusion Reigns: "You're not mad?" you finally manage to ask, a sliver of doubt lingering.He might confess he's clueless about the whole "No," he says, a sheepish grin tugging at his lips. "It's just... I never thought about this stuff. Family, kids, the whole shebang. But if I'm gonna do it, I want it to be with you."  _Cue the tiny butterflies in your stomach._

8. "But with you.":He might clarify that while the whole baby thing is new, having it with you? That's something he can do.

9. Protectiveness Unleashed: Expect a shift in Mattheo. He might become fiercely protective of you and the little one on the way. (Just don't tell him it's "nesting" if he starts building a barricade around your house.),Mattheo will hover over you, insisting you take prenatal vitamins and threatening to glare down any stranger who bumps into you. It's annoyingly sweet.

10.The (Slight) Freak Out (Because It's Mattheo): Don't get too comfortable yet. There will be moments of panic. Mattheo might blurt out something about not knowing the first thing about raising a kid, or how motorbikes suddenly seem like a terrible idea. Just remind him that you're in this together, crazy as it may be.

•Theodore Nott

1. Reality Check?: Theo might blurt out, "Are you sure?" It's not doubt about your love, but the sheer unexpectedness of it all. Breathe, and calmly confirm with that positive blood test result.

2. Freak-Out Time: Picture a cartoon character with smoke billowing from their ears. That might be Theo, internally freaking out. Don't worry, it's normal (though maybe not that dramatic).

3. Parental Apocalypse?: "Your dad will kill me!" Theo might shriek, envisioning a future father-in-law wielding a shotgun.

4. Waterworks Warning: Tears might well up in your eyes, a mix of emotions swirling. He will put everything beside and try to comfort you.

5. Protective Streak: Expect a dramatic shift. Theo, the notorious rule-breaker, might turn into a fierce protector, ready to shield you from any and all perceived threats.

6. Reassurance Renaissance: He'll rush to your side, muttering reassurances like "Hey, I'm here" and "I'll be here every step of the way." "I might be freaking out internally, but I'm not going anywhere."

7. "We" is the New Word: The "me" might temporarily disappear, replaced by a constant "we." He might start talking about "our baby" and "what we need to do.".

8. Fear is a Two-Way Street: Theo might confess he's scared too. Don't be surprised; fatherhood is a big leap for anyone. Reassure him you're in this together.

9. Facing the Future, Together: Theo might not be known for responsibility, but this news could be a turning point. He might surprise you with his determination to navigate this journey with you.

10.A (Slightly Chaotic) New Chapter: Yes, there will be challenges. But with Theo by your side, even the most chaotic moments of pregnancy and parenthood can turn into an unforgettable adventure (well, maybe not all the diaper changes).

•Lorenzo Berkshire

1. Record Scratch Moment: "Excuse me, what?" Lorenzo might look like a record player with a skipped track. Don't worry, the information overload will clear soon.

2. Baby Talk Confusion: He might blurt out, "Pregnant? Like...with a baby, like a real baby ?"

5. The F-Bomb Symphony: Brace yourself for a chorus of "Oh fuck!" Lorenzo might panic a bit, but hey, at least he acknowledges the reality.

6. Apology Avalanche: Prepare for a barrage of "I'm so sorry for putting a baby on you." It's not guilt-tripping, just Lorenzo's awkward way of expressing concern.

7. Decision Time: He might cut through the tension with a simple, "Okay, what do we do?" Don't be fooled by his bluntness; he's ready to face this together. He might surprise you with a genuine, "I want it. Do you?" Expect a hint of nervousness, but mostly a determination to be a part of this.

8. Family Gathering Fiasco: Prepare for a potential meltdown when it comes to telling your families. He might blurt out, "I'm pregnant!" before you can correct him. Just take a deep breath and handle the announcement yourself later.

9. Overprotective Overload: Expect Lorenzo to morph into your personal bubble wrap. Lifting a box? Forget it. Climbing stairs? Hold on, he's got you. You might need to remind him you're not made of glass .

10. Google Goes Dad Mode: One night, you might catch him researching "how to take care of a pregnant woman" , “ How to be a good dad “ on his phone. Aww, just don’t cry you will freak him out again.

•Draco Malfy

1. Denial is a River in Egypt:  His first response? "You're lying." Don't panic. This is classic Draco, clinging to disbelief. Prepare to show him the pregnancy test, the blood test… anything to pierce his denial bubble.

2."Look Away, Not At It!": He might stubbornly refuse to even glance at the evidence. Don't take it personally; it's his defense mechanism malfunctioning.

3. Accusatory Tirade: Brace yourself for a verbal explosion. He might accuse you of lying, of trapping him, of using his family name. Remember, fear often masquerades as anger in Draco's world.

4. Protection Spells on His Pants?: He might insist he used every protection under the sun. Don't get into a magical contraception debate. Just try to explain accidents happen.

5. The Ejector Seat Option: Draco might bluntly tell you to leave. It's a knee-jerk reaction, not a reflection of his true feelings (hopefully!).

6. Standing Your Ground: Here comes the hard part. You tell him you're keeping the baby, with or without him. This might be the first crack in his emotional armor.

7. A Continent Away From Chaos: Fearing his reaction and the uncertainty of it all, you flee to another country. Girl, we feel you! But remember, you're not alone in this.

8. A Connection You Can't Deny: Despite the fear, you feel a powerful bond with the tiny life growing inside you. This little one deserves a chance, and you vow to protect them.

9. The Redemption Knocks: Two months later, a frantic pounding on your door jolts you awake. You open it to find a desperate Draco, his face etched with worry.

10. A Malfoy Regret-Fest: He confesses he searched everywhere for you, regret gnawing at him. When he learns you fled, the dam breaks. He apologizes profusely, begging you to tell him you kept the baby.

A Second Chance, Malfoy Style:

Relief washes over you as you nod, tears welling up. He wipes them away, muttering, "It's still ours. I'm so sorry. I'll never hurt you or our baby again." A genuine plea hangs in his voice.

“ Do you still love me?“ A shaky nod escapes your lips. He pleads for forgiveness, for a chance to be part of this family he never knew he craved.

This might be the start of a rocky but redemptive journey for both of you. Draco, beneath his icy exterior, might surprise you with his capacity for love and growth. Just remember, keep a communication charm handy – navigating fatherhood with Draco will likely be an… interesting adventure.

•Tom Riddle

1. The Stoic Facade: Don't be surprised if Tom remains eerily calm. His usual mask of control might slip not an inch, leaving you wondering what's going on behind those eyes.

2. Tears: A flood of emotions might be coursing through you, but Tom? His reaction might be a chilling calmness. This doesn't mean he's unfeeling, just that he processes things differently.

3. Misinterpreting Your Distress: Seeing you cry, Tom might jump to a chilling conclusion. "Is having a baby with me that terrifying?" Here comes the part where you clarify.

4. Guilt by Association: A quick "No, no!" will hopefully ease his worry. But then you blurt out your fear – you're both too young.

5. Age is Irrelevant: Tom operates on a different timeline. Age is just a number, and power? That's the real currency. He might say, "It's not about age, it's about power."

6. Power Trip for Three?: Brace yourself for a Tom Riddle monologue about the immense power your child could possess. He might see it as an extension of his own ambitions, a prodigy groomed for greatness.Don't be afraid to voice your anxieties. When you say, "Tom, I don't want my baby to be part of your plans," he might actually listen.

6. A Promise, Riddle-Style: “I promise you, I will keep them safe. I will keep you safe." But remember, Tom's definition of "safe" might not align with yours. Stay frosty.

7. Your Fears Take Center Stage: Tears welling up again? This might be the moment it dawns on Tom that you're not thrilled about the power angle. He might try to reassure you, but...

8. Promises with a Price: Tom doesn't give anything without expecting something in return. Be prepared for him to outline his expectations for your role in his grand plan.

9. A Tug-of-War for the Future: This is where things get interesting. Do you submit to his vision, or do you fight for a different future for your child? The choice is yours.

10. A Dance with Darkness: Having a child with Tom Riddle is a gamble. He might be a captivating presence, but remember, his path is paved with darkness. Are you willing to walk it with him?

•Regulus Black

1. Denial Dance: Regulus might stammer, "No, no," backing away like a cornered cat. This isn't about you; it's pure terror. Don't take it personally.

2. Touch-Starved Panic: You reach for his hand, but he flinches. Give him space for now.

3. The Talk: Regulus might utter the dreaded words, "You need to get rid of it." This comes from a place of fear for the child, not for himself.

4. Mama Bear Mode Activated: Your eyes widen. "No, Reg!" you declare, ready to defend your little bean.And It might be the wake-up call he needs. Witnessing your distress could trigger his protective side.

5. Black Family Fears: Regulus might unload about the Black family legacy, a breeding ground for misery. He fears bringing a child into that darkness."This family… it's torture. A child here wouldn't stand a chance." This is Regulus' way of expressing his fear for your child growing up under the Black banner. He might confess his fear of becoming his parents.

6. Us Against the World: You counter with, "It's our baby, Reg. We'll protect him/her." This might be the turning point.

7. Surprise: Regulus, in a rare show of vulnerability, pulls you into a hug. Hold him tight. He needs reassurance as much as you do.

8. Fearful Love: He might apologize, admitting he's scared for you and the baby. Reassure him you're in this together.

9. Escape Plan Hatched: Regulus suggests raising the child away from the Black family's clutches. This might be the most un-Regulus thing ever, and a good sign.

10. Surprise Dad Mode: Fast forward a few months. Regulus, who "didn't want" the baby, is secretly buying tiny clothes and setting up a nursery. And suddenly, bedtime stories and tea parties are in his future.

“Daddy's Little Girl”The moment he finds out it's a girl, prepare for a meltdown (of the happy kind!).

The magic deepens when your daughter recognizes his voice from within the womb. Witnessing the connection between them, a shared language before she even arrives, will fill your heart.

Late nights spent with Regulus talking softly to his daughter, his voice thick with newfound love, will paint a picture of a future you never dared to dream of. Maybe, just maybe, this family you're creating is exactly what Regulus craved – a love that defies darkness and a happiness he deserves.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

[artytaeh]

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’

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

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

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

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

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

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

how to deal with you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’

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

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

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

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

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

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

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’

because tom is such a gentleman with you...

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

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

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

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

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

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

🪻 ; . . . fandom : harry potter.

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

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

[tomriddleslovergirl]

Sleeping with them

Mattheo Riddle

When sleeping together, Mattheo will pull you towards him so that your head is resting against his chest, and will slither a protective arm around your waist. You often find yourself falling asleep to his heartbeat.

He usually wakes up to a mouth full of your hair.

Mattheo loves it when you run your hand through his hair, and use your nails to scratch at his scalp. He usually quickly falls asleep when you do this.

Tom Riddle

Tom likes to watch you sleep. Well, he doesn't exactly like watching you sleep, but more so it feels like he has to.

Tom often gets nightmares about the bombings that happen in England, and there's one specific dream that haunts him.

He'll be walking around the rubble filled streets of London, searching for something. Tom will stumble of what he assumes to be a rock, but when he looks down, it's a hand that leads back to the rest of your body.

It's a terrifying sight that leads Tom to waking up. So yeah. He needs to watch the rise and fall of your chest to make sure that you haven't left him.

[lushaletta]

love and its lethal consequences / tom riddle

pairing: tom riddle x fem!reader

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

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

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

read the previous parts: one two

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

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

You are to be his.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He hardly speaks!” she retorts.

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

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

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

You don’t skip a beat. “Hi!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re staring,” he says.

“I like the view.” He sighs.

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

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

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

“Murphy Atthill.”

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

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

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

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

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

[sebastianswallows]

The English Client — Nine

— PAIRING: Tom Riddle x F!Reader

— SYNOPSIS: The year is 1952. Tom is working for Borgin and Burkes. He is sent to Rome to acquire three ancient books of magic by any means necessary. One in particular proves challenging to reach, and the only path forward is through a pretty, young bookseller. A foreigner like him, she lives alone, obsessed with her work... until Tom comes into her life.

— WARNINGS: none

— WORDCOUNT: 2.2k

— TAGLIST: @esolean @localravenclaw @slytherins-heir

I

As they neared this outcropping of something in the corridors of nothing, a figure emerged before them — first as shadow, then as sound, and then a lonely silhouette. Tall, trim, standing in a practised poise before the doorway, he had ceased his work inside and came to greet them.

“Mio Barone,” said the man, bowing from the waist. “Che onore.”

“Ambrogio,” he said, greeting him in English for Tom’s sake. “Working late, I see.”

“As always. It is a pleasure,” he replied in perfect English.

He was a thin old man in a black suit buttoned tightly up and down, with wrinkled leather shoes. When he straightened from his bow, he seemed more like a floating face on a lithe shadow. What wisps of hair remained around his head sat behind his ears like bird nests, but his face was far less soft. Pale eyes, thin lips, a sunken face as cold as death.

“Tom,” said the Baron, “this is Mr. Ambrogio Oso. He helps us with many matters. An invaluable servant. Ambrogio, this is Tom Riddle.”

Tom looked him up and down and smiled thinly. Only Ambrogio’s eyebrows moved, quirking ever so slightly. He would make a remarkable corpse, thought Tom. “A pleasure,” he said, offering his hand.

The man reluctantly stepped forward and shook it — just once.

“Quite cold down here, isn’t it?” Tom noted. “Must be a nice change during the day.”

“Yes, we didn’t come down here to discuss the weather,” said the Baron. “Show us to collection B-1786.”

Ambrogio nodded and turned on his heels, leading them into the office. “This way, please.”

Tom followed, but his gaze lingered on the wall facing the door, where those tall red drapes were hanging. Slightly parted, they seemed to lead into another, shorter corridor. This place was more of a museum or a warehouse… He wondered if it had anything to do with that auction he’d heard Frederico mention to her during lunch.

The office was broad and wide, with three desks of which only one seemed busy. The walls were thick with old maps and photographs, and empty spiderwebs hung in the corners with no insects in sight. The place smelled like death and naphthalene. Crates gaped open all around, some covered discreetly with a shrowd, others not at all. There were books inside them mostly, but there were other items too. Elaborate bottles of red glass reinforced with blackened silver, candleholders, daggers, and cups.

Tom raised his head slightly, throwing a look from the corner of his eye upon that busy desk. Mr. Oso was in the middle of research involving a medieval ritual, it seemed, amid a medley of notes in both German and Arabic, fresh ink shining darkly beneath a green lamp.

Ambrogio went to one of the crates behind a corner and shuffled a few heavy things inside. He came out carrying three heavy tomes, each with a piece of paper sticking out of their pages, and set them on the nearest desk.

Tom didn’t wait for an invitation, he approached. Ambrogio stepped aside, hands tucked behind his back.

“So, I take it you want me to review these, Baron?”

“I want you to authenticate them, Tom.”

“I see…”

He threw his eyes over their covers. One was a copy of The Book of Abramelin, another was the Grimoire of Pope Leo, and last was the Grand Albert.

There was nothing untoward about the request, nor about the books themselves, although he wasn’t sure he wanted to touch them just yet. They looked old, too old. If it were up to him, he’d find it safer to look over them with magic.

“And the books I brought with me?”

“I will agree to a trade if you will serve me in this manner.”

“And then?” asked Tom, cocking a brow over his shoulder.

“Then, if you wish, you may continue to serve me.”

Tom scoffed and turned. “I already have an employer,” he said, tucking one hand in his pocket. “I’m only here for a few books, that is all.”

“Very well, then,” the old man shrugged, tapping the pipe against his coarse old palm. His assistant looked calm, but her eyes shifted nervously from the Baron back to Tom. “If, after this simple task, you will wish to end our collaboration, you may.”

Tom shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He was fairly irritated at having been dragged out at this hour only to be given orders and obfuscations. And he wasn’t any closer to getting either of the remaining two books he needed.

“How long do I have?”

“I want a report ready in three weeks.”

“And what if they will prove to be forgeries?”

“Then you may keep them for nothing.”

“I have no use for fakes,” he chuckled.

“I doubt that,” the old man said with a twinkle in his eye. “Are we agreed?”

Tom looked from the Baron up to her. Behind him, he felt the shard of Ambrogio’s attention.

“Alright,” he said. “Although I expect payment during this time. Upfront.”

“You can discuss that with my secretary,” said the Baron, waving for the girl to push his wheelchair out. “Come by my office tomorrow.”

Tom watched her lead the old man from the room and reached down for the books. A pale hand stopped him, gripping his thin wrist so fast the blood froze in his veins.

“The books stay here,” Ambrogio said. “Baron’s orders.”

Tom clenched his jaw. It would’ve been far easier for him to analyse them in the comfort of his room where he could run detection charms for traces of stray magic, but perhaps there was some merit to working here. It would give him ample opportunity to explore this hidden and rather expansive part of the shop.

“So be it,” he smiled, yanking his arm free.

“Ambrogio,” the Baron called, “I bid you good night.”

“Good night, Baron. I shall see you out.”

Tom stepped back into the corridor. The vampire — for that is what Ambrogio was — followed.

“No need, no need,” said the Baron, fat arm waving as his assistant pushed him forward. “You probably wish to go home. Rest. Tom?”

“Yes, Baron?”

“We’re leaving. Come.”

“Right away.” He turned to look once more at Oso and saved a toothy smile for him. “I look forward to our collaboration.”

“It will be my pleasure, Mr. Riddle, to manage you,” he said.

Tom chuckled, and with one last scathing look, he left.

II

The chauffeur was waiting for the Baron outside. He and Tom helped load the old man in, and then he was left behind with his assistant as she closed up the shop.

“You shouldn’t have promised him that,” she said once they were alone. “Three weeks isn’t enough. The research alone would take one month, let alone writing a report.”

“I know men like him,” said Tom, waiting for her to secure all the locks. “They love ambitious, overachieving youngsters. Reminds them of the children they never had. Gives them something to brag about. Besides,” he added, “I can do it.”

“He doesn’t want children,” she said with a faint smile as she turned, joining him on the cold empty street. “He wants servants.”

“Same thing, in their eyes.”

He helped her put her coat on, and then they began to walk together toward the tram station.

“I just worry that you’ve —”

“I know,” said Tom, a strange feeling gripping him. “But I have everything under control.”

She looked at him with soft and tired eyes above a fading smile. “At least that makes one of us.”

Tom frowned. “Who is this Oso, anyway? Has he always worked down there?”

“Always. He’s been there since long before I was hired.”

“And he works alone?”

“Mostly.”

“At night?”

She shrugged, her shoulders squeezed up to her ears as if she were a frightened bird. “Sometimes. Honestly, I don’t know his comings and goings. Sometimes he’s there during the day, sometimes he’s not.”

“You visit him down there?” Tom asked with a cocked brow.

“No, in fact… in fact, I’m not really supposed to go down there without a reason. There’s a telephone…”

Tom nodded, piecing it together. She seemed not to know her colleague was a vampire, and now he wondered if even the Baron knew.

“So, what sort of person is he?”

“Ambrogio? He’s… a professional,” she said, shrugging again. “He’s private, doesn’t really have a sense of humour.”

“I never would’ve guessed.”

“And he likes things to be just so. Hates it when people touch his things or…”

“Or ask him any questions?”

“Yes,” she chuckled.

“I’ll be sure to do a lot of that, then,” smiled Tom.

She looked up at him, smiling now as well, her cheeks a little fuller and her eyes alight, but sad and… worried. Tom frowned. There was that feeling again, that spasmodic odium whenever she looked at him so softly and smouldering with the unspoken. She was afraid for him — not of him, but for him — and Tom didn’t know what to do with that. He had no point of reference. Nothing to compare it to.

“Let me walk you home,” he offered, shoving his hands in his coat pockets. “You can tell me all about the mess I’ve gotten myself into on the way.”

That got a chuckle out of her, at least. “You know I live quite far, and it’s already late.”

“I don’t mind.”

She smiled at him, and it caught — he smiled back.

III

She made no mention of Clement or what happened to him, but it was clear to Tom she greatly feared the Baron. From the tremble in her voice to the way she hugged herself, he could tell she had some kind of trauma. Something about how she sat when they were in the tram together, close enough she had to whisper, body curled in on itself, told him she needed to be held. Tom kept his hands firmly, very firmly, on his lap.

“So Ambrogio never goes upstairs?” he quietly asked.

“Never since I’ve worked there. I’m glad, honestly. He’s a little creepy… But the Baron greatly depends on him.”

“How is he paid?” Tom whispered.

“What do you mean? You mean how much?”

“Y-yes, that’s what I meant.”

“Oh, I don’t know. A lot, I expect.”

“Right.”

“He’s dangerous though. Don’t underestimate him, even if he’s old and frail,” she whispered back, her voice warm against his neck.

“Oh I’m sure,” Tom chuckled.

“I’m serious!” she insisted, speaking quietly but a little fearful now. She was so secretive, even if they were the only people on the midnight tram. “I think… I think he worked for the Mafia before.”

Tom laughed at that. It felt oddly refreshing… He couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed so sincerely.

“I’m serious!”

“Alright,” he chuckled. “Forgive me. I just… doubt it.”

“I know, I know. Their oath is supposed to be for life, right? But maybe this is why he works at night. Maybe he’s in hiding.”

“Mmm,” Tom nodded with a smile.

He could feel her at his shoulder, her body close to his and warm against the chilly night. How different it was from the day… Fragrant and alluring like a calm spring day, but dark and empty. Only the two of them existed.

The tram came to her stop at her station, far from the city centre. They got off, Tom going first to hold his hand for her.

“You’re certainly right about one thing, thought,” he said after they started walking down her street. “He is dangerous. Best keep away from him.”

“I do,” she nodded.

“Good,” said Tom. And he almost promised to take care of Oso for her but stopped himself at the last moment. How stupid that would be,he thought.

They walked in silence down the street, which looked even more squalid at night, both lost in their own thoughts.

“What is it?” Tom asked as they neared her building, unnerved by the silence.

“I just wish you hadn’t walked me back,” she chuckled, “that’s all.”

“Oh,” he smiled. “Don’t worry, I’m not judging you for where you live. I’m only quiet because I was thinking.”

“Just following me blindly then?”

“To the grave,” smiled Tom. “Sorry, that wasn’t funny.”

She laughed anyway. “You’re a little strange, Tom… But I like you anyway.”

“You mean you like me in spite of it?”

“Perhaps. But I still like you.”

She looked at him in a peculiar way, as if his eyes could keep her warm, and although her lips turned upward there was a strain to it. She was trying not to smile too brightly…

Tom swallowed the knot in his throat and shuffled his feet on the ground. They stood right in front of her building.

“Well, here I am,” she sighed. “Home again…”

“Is it really?”

She didn’t answer.

“I suppose I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” said Tom. “And many days after that.”

“You still have time to reconsider,” she said. “You haven’t signed anything yet…”

Tom laughed, the sound playing through the empty streets. “You speak of your employer as if he were the devil.”

“What, do you think you’re the only one that gets to do that?” she chuckled.

He blushed a little. She remembered what he’d said that night when he complained. It had been stupid of him to drink all that wine, stupid of him to talk. But he was glad that she remembered… He was almost touched. At least, he wanted to be.

“Good night,” he said. “And try not to worry.”

[coolbeans32]

Echoes of Destiny: The Serpent and the Phoenix

PAIRING: Tom Riddle x F!Reader(OC)

SYNOPSIS: Harry, Ron, and Hermione are unexpectedly drawn into a mysterious journey when they receive Albus Dumbledore's last will and testament. Minister Rufus Scrimgeour presents them with significant bequests, including a scrapbook holding the secrets of Dumbledore's past. Through poignant confessions, they learn of Dumbledore's secret marriage to Gellert Grindelwald and the tragic fate of their daughter. Delving into the scrapbook, they uncover a surprising connection between Dumbledore's daughter and Tom Riddle. Dumbledore's final message reveals that his daughter, Genevieve Ariana Dumbledore-Grindelwald, is alive, propelling the trio into a quest to find her and untangle the mysteries of Dumbledore's past. As they embark on this journey, they realize the profound interconnection of their destinies with those of their predecessors, emphasizing the enduring power of love and loss even in the darkest of times.

WARNINGS: This passage contains elements of death, grief, and loss. Specifically, it mentions the tragic death of Dumbledore's daughter, as well as themes of war and the impact of past actions on loved ones.

WORD COUNT: 1.6k

Previous Part| Next Part

Chapter One

The Scrapbook

“To what do we owe the pleasure Minister?” Harry asks.

“I think we both know the answer to that question, Mr. Potter.” His voice is deep and sure as he speaks. Rufus Scrimgeour leads them to the living room and Harry, Hermione, and Ron sit down in front of him as he lays down a cloth wrap.

“And this is?...”Harry states with a confused look on his face. The Minister then pulls out a piece of paper before making it float in front of him so he can read it.

"Herein is said forth the last will and testament of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. First, to Ronald Billius Weasley, I leave my Deluminator. A device of my own making. In hope when things seem most dark it will show you the light."

"Dumbledore left this for me?" Ron says taking the small black item out of its cover.

"Yes," the Minister says. Ron looks at it in wonder.

"Really. What is it?" He asks and clicks it open. It takes the lights and when clicked back open it puts them back. "Super."

"To Hermione Jean Granger, I leave my copy of Tales of Beedle the Bard in the hope that she finds it entertaining and instructive," He says handing her a book. She looks at it confused.

"Mom used to tell me those. The wizard and the hopping pot, Babbity Rabbity and the Cackling Stump Come on. Babbity Rabbity... No?" Ron says as we all look at him confused.

"To Harry James Potter, I leave the snitch he caught in his first match at Hogwarts. As a reminder of rewards of perseverance and skill," He says and holds out the golden snitch. Harry looks a bit defeated as does the Minister.

"Is that it then?" Harry asks and the Minister shakes his head.

"Not quite. Dumbledore left you a second bequest: The sword of Godric Gryffindor. Unfortunately the sword of Gryffindor was not Dumbledore's to give away. As an important historical artifact it belongs.." He says.

"...to Harry. It belongs to Harry. It came to him when he most needed it in the Chamber of Secrets," Hermione cuts him up. The minister shakes his head.

"The sword may present itself to any worthy Gryffindor, Miss Granger but that does not make it that wizard's property," He says. "Unfortunately the current whereabouts of the sword are unknown."

"Excuse me?" Harry says. We both look at each other and he looks worried.

"The Sword is Missing. I don't know what you are up to, Mr. Potter but you can't fight this war on your own. He is too strong," The Minister says. Harry, Hermione, and Ron give each other a glance as the Minister stands up.

 “One last thing is left. To Harry James Potter, Hermione Jean Granger  and Ronald Billius Weasley, I leave this scrapbook, an artifact very dear to my heart, in hopes to give you an insight of not only my life but to help you with your next steps necessary towards victory.” Hermione moves forward to grab the elegant scrapbook, looking more like an album, with its intricate black cover and dark emerald green ribbon on the front. The three of them looked really confused. With that, the Minister left, not before saying,

“Best of luck Mr. Potter, you will need it.”

The trio, Harry, Ron, and Hermione, sit in a circle around the living room, still puzzled by the words of Dumbledore, the Minister, and the scrapbook they had received. Hermione carefully inspects the runes on the cover, her brow furrowed in concentration. She noticed that as she tried to open the book, there was a presence of magic around it. With a flick of her wand and a whispered incantation that effortlessly flowed from her mind, the invisible lock clicks open the book. The three all glance at each other with curiosity. They eagerly flip through the pages, revealing the surprising images within.

Harry peers over Hermione's shoulder, “What do you see, Hermione?”

Hermione gasps softly, “ It's... it's a baby. But... wait, something's changing.”

Ron interrupts, “Changing? What do you mean by changing?”Hermione turns the page, and they watch as the baby's features morph into those of a young girl. “She's... she's growing older right before our eyes.”

Ron exclaims, “That's... that's incredible!”

They continue to flip through the pages, each image revealing a different moment in time. Suddenly, they come across a picture of a much younger Albus Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling with mischief.Harry says, “That’s  Dumbledore…”

Hermione turns the page again, and they see a young Gellert Grindelwald standing beside Dumbledore, their faces alight with excitement, and happiness. “It's them... when they were friends…no, wait…Do you think they were more than just friends?”

Ron replies with furrowed eyebrows, “There’s no bloody way that they could’ve been together Mione. It’s a bit hard to believe, I mean, Grindelwald was an evil wizard.” The trio falls silent as they continue to explore the scrapbook, each lost in their own thoughts, revealing images of the girl with both Albus and Gellert. Then, Hermione gasps once more, her eyes widening in surprise, as she changes the page once more.

“Look at this!” Hermione exclaims to Harry and Ron. Harry and Ron lean in to see what has caught Hermione's attention. They see the teenage girl, dressed in Slytherin robes, dancing with a young Tom Riddle.

Harry says flabbergasted and angrily, “Tom Riddle? What's he doing here?”

Hermione replies, also in an extremely surprised state, still trying to process what was in front of her, “I'm not sure, but... it looks like they're... dancing?

Ron says, “Well…quite the surprise there huh?”

Harry replies coldly, “Yeah, to say the least.” They exchange puzzled glances before turning their attention back to the scrapbook, eager to uncover more secrets hidden within its pages.

Hermione turned a couple of more pages, each with more images of the lovely young couple, until writing appeared over the next blank page. The words that appeared in front of the trio were of Dumbledore. The three read his note:

I see you have received the scrapbook I left for you. The contents of this book have much you need to know about my past, my secrets, the loves and losses that shaped my life. I was not always the wise old wizard you see before you. There was a time when I was young, foolish, and in love. I was in love with Gellert Grindelwald. He was many things. He was also brilliant, charismatic, and enchanting. We shared a bond that transcended mere friendship. We even married in secret, during a time of great turmoil. But our love was not to last. We had a child conceived by a surrogate, and bore a daughter. She was our greatest joy and our deepest sorrow. She bore the weight of our mistakes and our regrets. She was a Slytherin. She was brilliant, ambitious, and fiercely loyal. But she was also troubled, haunted by the shadows of our past. It wasn’t until she fell in love with Tom Riddle, the boy who would become Voldemort, that she found her way to regain a part of her that was lost because of me and Gellert. Their romance was nothing that I would have anticipated. I couldn’t bear to see her with a boy as troubled as her, but they prevailed. I thought he would corrupt her. She died on May 13, 1943. A casualty of a war she never chose to fight. A victim of a destiny she could not escape. A casualty by my own hand. I have learned that love is both a gift and a burden. It has the power to lift us up to the highest heights and drag us down to the darkest depths. But in the end, it is what defines us, what binds us together, even in death.

Silence descends upon the room, broken only by the soft rustle of pages as the trio processes Dumbledore's revelations, leaving Harry, Ron, and Hermione to grapple with the weight of his confessions.

Ron spoke first, trying to relieve the tension, “Well, uhm…who would’ve thought that Dumbledore’s daughter would be the one to make Riddle’s heart go soft?”

Hermione whacked his arm with a paper repeatedly and yelled, “Oh Ronald Weasley! This is not the time for your stupid jokes, this is serious.”

Ron replied, trying to dodge her blows, “Bloody hell woman, that hurts!” 

Harry pondered on his thoughts as Hermione and Ron were arguing. There was no way that Tom Riddle could ever love someone, there was just no way. It was truly hard for Harry to believe that the Tom Riddle-Lord Voldemort-himself was ever in love, or had a heart. Harry spoke up and exclaimed exasperatedly, “I still don’t get it. How is any of this supposed to help us? I mean even if Riddle loved Dumbledore’s daughter, she’s dead. This was just a waste.”

Just as Harry had finished his sentence, the note disappeared, and more writing came up. Hermione moved towards the book and read the writing out loud:

My daughter, while she supposedly died…I have to mention that nothing is as true as it seems. I had to protect her, or so I thought. My actions, while they may seem extreme, were important to me years ago. Now that I realize that I may have been wrong…In fact…I had taken all necessary precautions…She is…alive. The images within this scrapbook are all clues that will help you find her. They all have meaning and are small parts to the larger puzzle. I had to make sure that this scrapbook was in the right hands. Best of luck Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, and Ms. Granger…I will leave you with your first direct clue…her name is…Genevieve Ariana Dumbledore-Grindelwald. 

Tom Riddle Masterlist

© coolbeans32 2024

[poltoreveur]

I can’t fix him but I could fuck him.

[slytherinslut0]

jealousy. | slytherin boy headcanons

author’s note: im completely unhinged, as always. no surprise there. love me some angry snake men🥵 please enjoy.

-your boyfriend sees another guy flirting with you in the hall.

Draco Malfoy.

Sees you from down the hall as he’s walking with his friends.

“You know what, guys, I’ll catch up with you after.”

Would literally ditch his friends to make his way over, collecting himself as saunters up to you and mystery man.

Would instantly grab your ass, no hesitation, grip firm enough to bruise. When you gasp, caught off guard, he’d shift his arm up and around your shoulder, pulling you against him.

“What’re we talking about?” He’d sneer.

His voice would be laced with feign interest, smirking down at you with blaring eyes before shooting daggers at the boy.

He’d simply chuckle at you when you tell him nothing, just school stuff, leaning down to place a possessive kiss on your cheek as he grabbed your hand.

“Wonderful. let’s head to class, yeah?”

He’d pull you away from that dude, shooting him another look meant to kill, a silent warning not to fuck with him.

Finally gets you alone in an empty corridor or bathroom; would waste literally no time at all before pushing you against the wall and grabbing your neck/jaw.

“Who the fuck was that, hm?”, “he was practically eye-fucking you…give me five good reasons why i shouldn’t have him expelled or hexed into bloody Azkaban.”

He’d be furious, but he’d also know that you’d never choose some other guy over him, so he’d soften once he hears the innocence in your tone.

“You’re mine, princess,” he’d loosen his grip, kissing you softly. “Say it.”

Blaise Zabini.

Was listening to music while walking down the hall, instantly rips out his headphones the second he sees you laughing a little too hard with some dude he doesn’t know.

He doesn’t necessarily stop walking, but he’d definitely slow his pace, kind of just watching, not wanting to interfere but also not wanting to look creepy stalking you from a distance.

When the guy doesn’t leave, he’d tired of waiting, saying “fuck it”, before marching over naturally.

This man is so fucking cool calm and collected he’d just saunter right up and join in, making himself at home.

He’d practically take over the conversation because he’s literally just that chill in every situation, seamlessly fitting right in, so fucking charming and loved by everyone.

You’d kind of just end up staring at him, smiling in silent awe, knowing that this was his way of asserting his place, letting the guy know what the fuck was up.

After the dude leaves he’d just causally look at you, smirking that charming smirk, wetting his lips as he hooked an arm around your shoulder and pulled you close, leaning down for a kiss.

“Ain’t no one getting you without getting me too, babygirl.” He’d murmur against your lips. “let that be known, right now, forever, always.”

Lorenzo Berkshire.

Would literally stop everything. The second he’d see you laughing and smiling he’d be completely unable to focus on anything else and would completely zone out of any conversations with his friends.

Would get like super anxious and flustered pretty much immediately.

Wouldn’t want to intrude so he’d just kind of hang back, wait for you against the wall and try not to stare too much.

His adorable little cheeks would flush, and he’d know he seemed utterly ridiculous so he’d try to busy himself with his shoelace or something while he waits.

You’d quickly cut off the conversation and move over to him, instantly being able to tell that he’s overthinking.

He’d smile at you, though you could still see the concern on his features.

“Who was that guy, darling?”

You’d tell him he was just a friend from class, no one special at all, pulling him in for a hug and giving him a quick smoochie on the cheek.

“Don’t worry enz, no one could ever take your place.”

He’d blush, trying to play it off. “Sorry love, I know you’re my girl.”

You’d take his hand, squeezing him hard, never wanting him to doubt that for a second. “Only yours baby, forever.”

Mattheo Riddle.

“Who the fuck-“

Would literally whip his bag at Theo, hastily shoving through the crowded hallway with blazing eyes, tunnel visioned as he tried to figure out where the fuck this dude found the audacity.

You wouldn’t even have to turn around to know he’s there, you’d be able to literally feel the anger radiating off of him.

You’d already know exactly where this was heading, but you’d also know there was no attempting to stop him because it’s pointless. Everyone in the school knows that.

Matty does what Matty wants, and right now, he wants to fuck up this guys face for even thinking about flirting with you.

You’d simply look up at him, noting his tensed jaw and his dark eyes as he glances between you and the dude, before fixing back on you, wetting his lips before he says,

“Is this fucker bothering you?”

Unable to help it, you’d smirk, shaking your head as you calmly attempted to talk him down.

“No Matty, he just asked if he could borrow my study notes-“

He’d heard more than enough.

“Study notes? Yeah, I don’t fucking think so,”

Without giving the guy a chance to react, he’d reach for his collar, shoving his back against the wall, teeth barred and face contorted in a snarl as he’d hiss:

“Bother my fucking girlfriend again and the only study notes you’ll need are the ones on how to drink out of a fucking straw, understand?”

Not interested in the response, he’d shove the guy away, eyes softening instantly as he moved back over to you, thrusting a hand through your hair as he kissed you like it’d been a hundred years, right in the middle of the hall for everyone to see.

And judging by the intensity in his grip, you’d already know, later that night, he’d be extra fucking sure to ask you who the fuck you belong to while he’s fucking you.

When he finally pulled back, he’d smirk at you. “Some bloody nerve on that guy, huh?”

You’d just shake your head and laugh, taking his hand as the two of you headed for class.

Theodore Nott.

He’d spot you from down the hall, his eyes instantly narrowing, gaze darting around as though he was missing something, as though this was some sort of sick joke.

Surely, this dude is mentally unwell, right? There’s no fucking way that he’s-

Doesn’t bother to think about it for even another fucking second, instantly shoving through the crowd to make his way over.

Proceeds to wrap his arm around your waist, other hand finding your jaw and pulling your lips to his before you could even process it.

Would proceed to full-on make out with you in front of the dude, and I mean tongue and all, his grip on your jaw so tight you’d know exactly what he was trying to do.

His hand around your waist might even slip lower, grazing over your ass, and then that’s when you’d attempt to gather yourself and push him back, completely embarrassed.

He’d just shrug, smirking down at you before he’d finally acknowledge the guys’ presence with literally nothing more than a glare meant to kill.

“Move along,” he’d say to the guy while pulling you away, grip tighter than ever. “This one’s fucking taken.”

As soon as he got you alone he’d be damn sure to remind you that you’re his, and only his, making you beg and whine his name before he fucked you like you deserved the pain.

Tom Riddle.

“AVADA KEDA-“

Lowkey kidding but not really.

No one would even dare because that man would make it clear as fucking day what would happen if they tried.

[natti-ice]

18+ mdni

Me: “fuck, I need his cock”

Him: *is literally just words on tumblr*

[cloveswifey]

Clingy

Dad!Tom riddle X Fem!Reader

Fluff

"Mommy is mine!" Mattheo, your spirited three-year-old, shouted, pushing Tom's face away from you.

"Excuse me?" Tom feigned offense, placing a hand over his chest dramatically. "She is married to me, little buddy." He proudly displayed your ring on his finger, causing Mattheo to cry in despair. You couldn't help but roll your eyes at your husband's playful antics.

Mattheo had definitely entered that clingy phase. He only wanted you to feed him, hug him, play with him, and put him to sleep. He absolutely despised when Tom even gave you a little peck on the lips, and oh, was Tom having fun teasing your little one.

In the past few days, Mattheo's clinginess seemed to escalate. Not that he wasn't clingy before, but now it had become even more intense. As you tried to cook, his little hands would constantly explore your body, causing him to become upset when Tom was around. In an attempt to scare Tom away, Mattheo would even throw his food at him, which only made Tom laugh even harder.

You gave Tom a knowing look and remarked, "I wonder where he got his bad temper from."

Tom affectionately placed a hand on your growing stomach and whispered against your head, "Let's hope this little one isn't as jealous as his brother."

[adiraargent]

In a world full of boys, he's a gentleman <3

Synopsis: the Slytherin boys and the 'gentleman' things they do Warnings: None :) Characters: Mattheo Riddle, Theodore Nott, Tom Riddle, Blaise Zabini, Jasper Rowle

This is Part 1 :)

Mattheo Riddle: opening doors for you

"Hey there, my love," Mattheo greeted, flashing a grin as he held the door open for you. You rolled your eyes playfully at the endearment, a fond smile tugging at your lips as you looked up at your boyfriend.

"Always the gentleman, huh?" you teased, stepping through the door of the Slytherin common room as he held open with a light chuckle.

"Hey, gotta treat my girl right," he replied, trailing behind and falling into step beside you. He nudged you gently with his elbow, his laid-back demeanor effortlessly charming.

He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to the side of your head. His lips lingered for a moment, and you couldn't help but blush at the tenderness of the gesture. "You're my everything," he whispered, his voice filled with genuine adoration.

Whether they were heading to class, grabbing a bite to eat, or just strolling through the castle halls, Mattheo made it a point to hold doors open for you. It wasn't a grand gesture, just a simple act of courtesy, but it spoke volumes about his thoughtfulness.

"You spoil me too much, you know that?" you remarked with a grin, as Mattheo held the door of his dorm for you.

He chuckled, his eyes sparkling with affection. "Can't help it. You deserve the world," he shrugged, following you inside. He wrapped his arms around your waist, playfully throwing you on the bed before snuggling up next to you, holding you tightly against his chest.

Their laughter filled the air as they chatted about anything and everything, discussing everything from stupid things their friends had done recently to their favourite movies. Mattheo listened intently, his eyes lighting up as they shared their stories.

Theodore Nott: Holds your face with both hands when kissing you

"Hey," Theodore greeted softly, his fingers trailing gently along your jawline before cupping your face tenderly, drawing you into a sweet kiss. His touch was always gentle, his palms cradling your cheeks as if you were the most precious thing in his world.

"Hi," you whispered against his lips, smiling as he leaned in to press another soft kiss, his touch grounding and comforting.

"Did you have a good day?" Theodore asked, his thumb brushing lightly over your cheek as he held your face in his hands.

"Mmm, it was alright. Nothing compared to this though," you replied, your voice softening as he leaned in for another kiss, his touch sending a shiver down your spine.

He pulled back slightly, his hands still cupping your face, his eyes filled with warmth as he gazed at you. "You always make everything better."

"You too," you said, feeling a surge of affection as his touch lingered, his fingers tracing delicate patterns along your skin.

"Can I just kiss you forever?" he murmured, his forehead resting against yours, his touch never leaving your face.

"That sounds like a plan," you chuckled, enjoying the feeling of his hands on your cheeks, grounding you in the moment.

As he leaned in for another kiss, his hands framed your face once more, holding you gently but firmly, his touch sending a rush of warmth through you. Each kiss felt like a silent declaration of his love and care, his hands a constant reassurance that you were cherished.

"Promise me something," he said softly, his gaze intense as he held your face in his hands, his touch so tender it made your heart flutter.

"Anything," you replied, feeling a rush of emotion at the sincerity in his eyes.

"Promise you'll never forget how much you mean to me," he whispered, his hands trembling ever so slightly against your skin.

"I promise," you said, your voice barely above a whisper, overwhelmed by the depth of his feelings.

Theodore smiled, his touch becoming even more gentle, as if he was memorizing every contour of your face. "I love you," he murmured, his lips brushing against yours in a feather-light kiss.

"I love you too," you replied, feeling a surge of emotion as his hands cradled your face.

Tom Riddle: Subtle things to make sure you don't get hurt

In the midst of a quiet classroom, Tom and you sat side by side, the ambiance filled with the hushed tones of a lecture. You were unconsciously fiddling with your quill as your tired eyes lingered on the teacher, doing your best to listen to whatever he was saying.

A small sigh slipt from your lips as your dropped your quill, the small object rolling under your desk. As you leaned down to retrieve your quill, Tom subtly shifted, his hand discreetly finding its place at the edge of the desk, ensuring you wouldn't hit your head upon rising.

"Thanks love," you whispered, meeting his eyes for a fleeting moment, noticing the faint blush that graced his cheeks as he quickly looked away.

"Wouldn't want you getting hurt," he murmured, his voice barely audible, trying to cloak his concern with an air of indifference as his eyes went back to the teacher.

"I appreciate it," you replied softly, a small smile playing on your lips, acknowledging his unspoken worry.

Throughout the class, the subtle ways Tom looked out for you were apparent. Whether adjusting his posture to prevent you from bumping elbows or discreetly sliding a book closer to your reach, his actions spoke louder than his reserved words.

As the lesson progressed, you dropped a parchment, and before you could react, Tom swiftly picked it up without a word, his gaze briefly meeting yours with a hint of concern before retreating into his usual stoic demeanor.

"Thanks," you said, your voice warm with gratitude, feeling the corners of his lips twitch into the faintest hint of a smile before he composed himself.

"Merlin you're an idiot," he mumbled under his breath, a small smile twitching on the corner of his lips. He loved you, and he did his best to show it. To some, these may just seem like small gestures, but to you, these acts meant everything.

Blaise Zabini: Looking after you while you are sick

"Blaise, I think I'm dying," you groaned, your voice muffled by the mountain of blankets you'd buried yourself under. The room echoed with your misery, and you could practically feel Blaise's amused gaze on you.

"Quite the melodrama you've got going on there," he chuckled, entering the room with a tray in hand.

You peeked out from under the blankets, giving him a weak glare. "This is not melodrama. I'm genuinely dying. I might need to write my will."

He raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. "Last I checked, you're broke. And if you're going to die, at least wait until you've cleaned up the mess in the bathroom."

You shot him a scowl before returning to your cocoon of misery. "I'll have you know that this is a serious illness. I even got Pansy to get me a book from the library so I can read about my symptoms."

He set the tray on the bedside table, glancing at you with a mix of amusement and skepticism. "And let me guess, according to Dr. know it all, you have a rare tropical disease only found in the depths of the Amazon rainforest?"

"No, it says I have a severe case of man flu," you deadpanned, voice muffled by the blankets.

Blaise burst into laughter. "Man flu? Really?"

You shot him a glare from under the covers.

He shook his head, still chuckling. "Ok, ok. I come bearing gifts to nurse you back to health."

He lifted the tray to reveal a steaming bowl of soup and a cup of hot tea. Your eyes lit up, and you managed to sit up, sniffling pathetically.

"Ah, the healing powers of chicken soup," he declared dramatically, handing you the bowl.

You took it gratefully, inhaling the comforting aroma. "You're the best, you know that?"

"I try," he said with a wink, settling onto the bed beside you. "Now, eat up. We can't have you wasting away on my watch."

As you sipped the soup, Blaise watched you with a soft smile. "Feeling a bit better already?"

You nodded, the warmth of the soup soothing both your throat and your mood. "Maybe I won't die today after all."

He chuckled, running a hand through your hair. "Good to know. I was planning on having a quiet night in, not attending a funeral."

You swatted him playfully, earning a smirk from Blaise. "You're lucky I'm too weak to defend myself properly."

"Consider it a mercy on my part," he teased, taking a sip of his own tea.

As the night wore on, Blaise stayed by your side, occasionally offering more soup, fetching tissues, and regaling you with stories to keep your mind off your misery.

"You're surprisingly good at this whole nurse thing," you admitted, snuggling into the blankets.

He grinned, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. "Well, when the patient is you, it's almost enjoyable."

You rolled your eyes, but a small smile played on your lips. "I must be really sick for you to admit that."

He chuckled, wrapping his arms around you. "Maybe you're just bringing out my softer side."

You sighed dramatically. "I never signed up for a softer Blaise Zabini."

"Too late now," he replied with a smirk, holding you a little tighter. "You're stuck with me, even if I have to nurse you back to health every now and then."

You leaned into his embrace, feeling grateful for the care and comfort he provided. "I suppose I can live with that."

And as you drifted off to sleep, wrapped in blankets and the warmth of Blaise's presence, you couldn't help but feel that maybe being sick wasn't so bad after all, especially when you had someone like him to take care of you.

(This is my favourite for sure)

Jasper Rowle: Doing your shoelaces

The sun had dipped below the horizon, casting a soft golden glow into the room as you and Jasper sat comfortably on a bench in Hogsmede just of to the side of Zonko's, enjoying a leisurely stroll that had turned into a serene moment of shared silence.

"Oops," you pouted, looking down at your untied shoelaces, a small sigh falling from your lips as you went to go and tie your laces.

"I've got it darlin'," Jasper said with a gentle smile, bending down on one knee before her.

"Jasper, you really don't have to," you protested, a faint blush gracing your cheeks at the unexpected gesture.

He shook his head with a grin, his fingers deftly working on your shoelaces. "I've got it, can't have my girl tripping on her own shoelaces, can I?"

You chuckled softly, unable to hide your affectionate smile as you watched him tie the laces with care. "You're too good to me, you know that?"

He glanced up at her with a warm smile. "'Just don't want you getting hurt."

As he finished, he ran his thumb over your knee softly a few times before standing up and placing a gentle kiss on the top of your head, causing your heart to flutter. The simple act filled you with warmth and adoration.

"Thank you," you murmured, touched by his gesture.

"Anytime, my love."

Their fingers intertwined as they resumed their stroll through Hogsmede, the cool breeze carrying the faint scent of baked goods, more than likely from a stall near by. The world seemed to slow down around them as they walked hand in hand, enjoying each other's company.

Hi all! This is my first post, hope you enjoyed it :) I take requests for many different fandoms and characters <3

[patrophthia]

Hello! Could I request tom being soft and clingy. Thank you and Your stories are awesome!

hi! thank you for reading my work!!!

magic word | tom riddle

pairing: tom riddle x reader

genre: fluff, slight jealousy, humor, established relationships, OOC tom

Contrary to popular belief Tom Riddle loves physical touch —only if he’s the one insisting it of course. And, especially when he’s just tiniest bit jealous. 

“Tom?” You ask, feeling him lazily wrap himself over you tighter. “I need to use the bathroom.” 

“No you don’t,” he murmur, tone annoyed. 

“Yes I do,” you tell him, watching as he kept his eyes on the book in his hand. “I need to go.” 

“You wouldn’t be needing to go if you were with Creevey,” he snickers, not releasing his grip on you. 

You bite back a laugh at his words. “This again?”

Two days back, Creevey had made the mistake of asking you out on a date with Tom just a few feet behind him. And though the two of you weren’t exactly public about your relationship, most of Hogswart knew to not try anything on either of you. 

Poor Creevey who build up the courage to finally ask you out after five (or was it six?) months of fancying you, only to be flat out rejected not by you, but by your boyfriend.

Who —for the first time ever— kissed you in front of everyone before turning to ask him, quite charmingly you might add. “Did you need something, Creevey?” 

You could only hope that he’s handling his heartbreak well. Because, your boyfriend was taking it worse than him (probably) by clinging onto you and bringing him up any possible chance. 

“Whether I’m with you or Creevey, I’ll still need to pee,” you sigh, “It’s human nature.” 

“So you admire you’ve thought about being with, Creevey.” Tom eyes Nagini, their eyes meeting with a sly understanding. “Is he going to be a problem?” 

“What are you going to do? Hurt him?” It’s quiet, Tom’s eyes meeting you as if he was asking whether you were testing him. “If you hurt him, I’ll bite you.” 

“And if I liked to be bitten?” 

You huff, squirming under his arms. “I’ll fight you.” 

He moves away from you slightly, long limbs still wrapped around your frame. “I can take you.” 

“Please,” you huff again, this time pouting as you try to ease him off of you but to no avail. “I really have to go, Tom.” 

His arm loosens its grip on you, still tight enough to cage you into his chest. “Say the magic word.” 

“Please?”

“You’re so close, my love,” he tells you, shaking his head as he prompted you on, “try again.” 

“I love you?”

A low chuckle vibrates from his chest. “I love you too,” he says, “but no, how about adding something to your first try?” 

“Please, my love?”A firm head shake, dark hair flailing against your pillow. 

“Please, baby?”

You learn then that even the head boy likes to be babied from time to time, pressing a quick kiss before releasing you from his arms and legs. You shuffle out of bed, yelling back at him. “Since when did you like being called baby?” 

[roselilies]

There is no stronger force than that of a girl’s desperation to write about her male hyperfixation.