#good tom riddle

[hufflepuff-16]

Thank you Zzz・・・・

Tom riddle x gn! Neutral reader (platonic) :->

Summary: The reader is a professor at hogwarts who believes that Tom should not be living in Wool's orphanage.

Warnings: angst, hurt/ comfort, and a slight ooc Tom

A/n: Let me know if I should make a part 2 for this, I have no idea why I am obsessed with teachers adopting students' trope.

A/n: Part 2 is here on my Masterlist!

Link to my previous Remus Lupin fanfic

It's not uncommon to find Tom Riddle sneaking around the hallways during your midnight patrols. If you're being honest, you've come to enjoy your late night talks with him, up until tonight.

He seems different. His green eyes hold something unfamiliar in them as he peers down you, his face a mask of unreadable emotion. This makes you slightly uncomfortable.

You go up to him, "Mr Riddle is everything all right?"

"Everything's fine…" He replies, his voice raspy and hollow. He stares at you with those unnaturally green eyes, and you can see something almost predatory in them. You know he's lying, but you're unsure what to do or say. "How are you, professor...?" He finally asks, his tone low and calm, as if he's trying to cover something up.

you knew Tom, stayed in an orphanage, and you had been pestering Dumbeldore to find Tom a more suitable place to stay. A home. You cared about this boy very much.

"Tom...are you sure, you know you can always tell me darling."

"Of course, I'm sure." A hint of a dangerous edge creeps into his voice. He narrows his eyes and tilts his head to the side, still staring with that eerie intensity. It feels like he's looking straight through you. "Can't I just be alone right now?" There's a hint of annoyance in his voice. What could be bothering him?

"Well, you can't be alone walking around the hallways, especially now that patrol times for prefects have finished. Would you like to come down to the kitchens with me for a glass of milk, then you can go to bed?" You say with a warm voice.

He pauses for a moment, then lets out a heavy sigh. "You're right. Fine... I'll go with you." He crosses his arms, and his body tenses. He glances down the hall and then turns back towards you. "Lead the way..." He replies, his voice cool and emotionless again. He seemed eager to leave behind whatever he was just thinking about.

"Alright." You both enter the kitchens and make him some warm milk with honey and hand it to him. You had wanted to ask him about what he was doing up so late.

"Thank you..." He takes the glass from you but doesn't make a move towards drinking it. "So... What brings you down here?" He asks dryly, his emerald-green eyes gazing at you with the same intensity. It's as if he's looking into your very soul. It's unnerving, and you can't shake the feeling that this whole situation doesn't feel right. You feel like he's hiding something, but you can't figure out what.

"Oh, you know darling, just your usual teacher patrols, what about you?" You asked him with a yawn.

"Nothing." He answers simply. "I can't sleep." He takes a sip from the warm glass of milk, the sound of his lips against he glass bowl echoing in the quiet kitchen. All around the two of you is silence, the only sound being Tom's muffled sipping. Finally, after a few uncomfortable seconds of silence, he looks back up at you, his emerald eyes narrowed slightly. "Do you really believe that's why I came down here?" He asks, his voice cold and sharp. "How naive of you..."

"Tom?" You are confused by his sudden coldness. You begin to stroke his back gently, calming him down.

He flinches when your hand first makes contact with him, but as you continue to stroke his back, he settles in your touch. He sighs heavily through his nose, and his eyes seem to soften a little. He lets you continue for a few seconds, and then he suddenly pushes you away. "Back off." He growls, his voice low and intimidating. He takes a step back and shoves his hands in his pockets. His voice has taken on a sinister quality, and it's clear he's not in the mood to be touched. Your hand remains outstretched for a moment, and then you slowly retract it.

"Ok darling," you say softly.

He gives you a cold, icy stare for a few seconds, and then he suddenly sighs again. His body deflates slightly, and his demeanour changes again completely. He seems almost defeated now, as if all his anger and aggression have disappeared. His voice takes on a different tone, one that almost sounds sad, as he speaks again. "I'm sorry, professor. I shouldn't have done that." He bows his head slightly. "I just... had some unpleasant memories brought up. Please forgive me..."

"It's OK, darling." You aren't sure if you should bring this up with him, but you do anyway.

"Tom....how would you feel if you didn't go back to your orphanage?"

He freezes when you mention the topic of his orphanage, and the same predatory gleam appears in his eyes once more. He seems to be holding his breath, waiting to see how you'll react. You can sense his body tensing, and you have a feeling that if you push him too far, he'll probably attack you. This is when you notice he's also slowly backing away from you. He speaks in a voice as cold as ice, just like his stare, and you suddenly feel like you've just walked into a room full of snakes. "I would never speak to you ever again."

you felt disappointed, "Oh...I see, so you like your orphanage."

"I love my orphanage." He replies flatly, his voice sharp and sarcastic, as if this were all some big joke to him. His eyes are locked on yours, and he's still staring at you with that odd, predatory gaze. "This place is like a second home to me." He's being completely insincere, yet you can tell he expects you to believe every word he's saying. He's hiding something, and he's trying hard to disguise it.

he was trying to be smart, but you were smarter. You were going to tell him of an offer he couldn't refuse. "Oh...ok then... I was just going to offer you an apprenticeship that would require you to live with me, that's all!" you said in a well disguised false voice.

His eyes narrow in suspicion. "Why would you offer me..." He pauses for a moment to collect his thoughts, then he stares you down as the predatory gleam returns to his icy eyes. "Why would you ever offer me an apprenticeship?" There's something dangerous in his voice again. He seems to be trying to stay calm, but you can see he's getting impatient. He shifts on his feet and leans closer to you, as if he's ready for an altercation.

"Because you are a smart, talented, young individual who I believe with the proper training can become a great auror. But I know being an auror isn't something on your mind, but my apprenticeship could help you gain favour in the ministry. You could even become the future minister of magic." You said truthfully.

He continues to stare you down, but as you explain yourself, his eyes soften slightly, and his body relaxes. His voice is cool and calm again, but his gaze is still somewhat insistent. "What exactly would this apprenticeship entail? How long would it last? And in what way would it help me?" He puts a particular emphasis on that last word, and you're not sure if he even noticed. "You'll need to be very detailed if you expect me to believe any of this." His emerald eyes burn into yours once more, as if studying you for inconsistencies.

you conjure up a letter containing all the details of the apprenticeship..

"Hmm.." He seems to be legitimately considering what you've said, the predatory gleam now completely gone from his eyes. He takes the letter and studies it for a few moments, making sure to read everything from top to bottom. The intensity of his stare makes you feel like you're being judged and analyzed. "And why can't I just accept any ordinary auror apprenticeship? Why are you so adamant about having me work for you directly?" He tilts his head slightly to the side, his emerald eyes still locked on you as he waits for your response.

"The auror apprenticeship is useless. I should know I did one,but my apprenticeship isn't just about defence against the dark arts. it's on everything to do with magic."

"Also.....I don't want you going back to Wool's Orphanage Tom, that place isn't good for you it's an awful place. Dumbeldore may not care, but I care, I know... you're slipping out of control Tom......I don't want you to get hurt!"

His gaze softens again, and you can see a hint of emotion cross his face. "You know about my orphanage, then?" He asks in a quieter voice. "You know... you care?" He suddenly steps closer to you until he's right in front of you. He's still keeping a firm facade, but you can see that this is clearly a sensitive topic, and it hits close to home. You're not sure how much more he can take before he breaks and becomes vulnerable.

"Yes," you say, your voice is kind,gentle, and loving.

He's overcome by a sudden wave of emotion. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. Once he's collected himself again, he looks up at you, and you can see tears starting to form in his eyes. You can see the walls he's built up over the years are starting to crumble. "Do... do you really want me to... to leave?" He stutters out, looking at you through misty, tear-filled eyes. You've never seen him like this before. He's normally so aloof and cold. Who could have known he'd be so vulnerable?

"Tom.....I'm going to tell you something, ok?"

He nods quickly. "O-of course." He replies, his voice wavering slightly. He bites his lower lip, and you see a tear fall from his eye to his cheek. He doesn't wipe it away but instead turns his face slightly in an attempt to hide it. "What is i-it?"

You take a deep breath." I went to Wool's Orphanage when I was a child..... I am an orphan, too."

"You?" He looks at you in shock, his face crumpling and tears flooding from his eyes. He steps forward and pulls you into a hug so tight you almost can't breathe. "Y-you're..." His voice is shaking, and his sobs are almost too much for you to bear as you stand there with him in your arms. "Thank you..." He says in between sobs. "Thank you for caring..."

you hug him back. "I know exactly what you're going through. And I'm not going to let anyone hurt you."

The end

[roseburning]

I want a Good!Tom Riddle that is NOT Tom X Harry!

I recently read Chamber of Secrets for the first time and, as someone who watched the movies first, I was genuinely surprised about how much I relate to Ginny Weasley!

Tom Riddle is incredibly charming and, just like little Ginny, I completely fell for it (even though I knew he was Voldemort all along). I just couldn't help it, he plays the role of the sweet, innocent Golden Boy too well!! I genuinely felt sorry for him when he started blushing while talking about the orphanage he lived in 💔

Obviously it's just a facade, a mask he wears to manipulate people and not his real self. I'm not at all trying to somehow justify the actions of Lord Voldemort. I'm just saying that, like Ginny and Harry, I fell for him.

But when I decide to search online for Alternative Universes where he was actually this prince charming with a heart of gold (*hyperbole*) that he pretended to be, I only found disgusting Tomarry smut.

I do understand that this is a crack ship that shouldn't be taken seriously, but damn, I must say I'm deeply disappointed and sad. Apparently, Tom Marvolo Riddle can only be "good" when the author wants him to fuck Harry James Potter.

And those fanfiction don't even base his "good side" on what we actually see him performing in the book, but apply the most generic and cliche 'cold, no feelings boyfriend and only y/n can made him love again' personality, but y/n is just called Harry.

I'm deeply mad at this fandom. Tom Riddle could be such a layered and complex characters if we consider his Golden Boy Persona as real, or at least something he's trying to be.

I know that J.K. Rowling dives more deep into his past in later books and I currently only read books 1 and 2, but from I could see, good!Tom Riddle (canon based + a bit of my headcanons): Comes from a negligent (possibly abusive) household that he much rather not go back to;

Tries to be the perfect boy in school, in a desperate quest for acceptance;

Tries to do what he judges right, even if it hurts other people or himself, it's for the greater good;

Does not have actual friends because he can't bond with people (and some people think he's just a show off);

Is a Teacher's Pet because he subconsciously wants validation;

Spent 5 years trying to learn more about who he and his mother's family are;

(Probably has a pet Basilisk — who might or not have killed Myrtle);

Gets along better with snakes than humans, because he doesn't need to try so hard around them.

Speaks Parseltongue in his sleep.

I'm fully aware that it also sounds very cliche, and I the need to say that as I, myself, don't ship Tom and Harry at all, I'm not here to hate this ship or on its shippers. “Ship and let ship.„ You do you, guys. I can understand how the whole Dark Mirror situation could have been appealing to some.

I just wanted to vocalize my frustrations about this damn ship basically monopolizing the "Good Tom Riddle" tag on Ao3.

I'd love fanfiction recommendations about it if you have some <3

(I also think we should talk about more about the friendship between Tom Riddle and Ginny Weasley, but this is a talk for another post. Anyway, if you got some platonic recommend for them, I'd love to read! <3)

For the love of Merlin, fanon is not canon and this doesn't justify Voldemort's actions at all.

Love ya!

[my1dearest6rose02]

you know what'll be funny? if tom riddle aka voldy decided to pop up during the third year the first time. no possessing quirrell and shit, just third year, a tired looking, human looking tom marches on, kidnaps harry for a few hours, then send annoyed death eaters to return him back to school.

ofc, voldy took his last fragment soul piece, he yeets off to find a better way to immortality before returning to hogwarts with documents and shit (this is good tom riddle, bad albus dumbledore, btw), and gets the headmaster arrested. (tom riddle is the owner of hogwarts, in case it wasn't clear--cue presenting bank statements, and theft done by dumbles when he was an infant sent to the orphanage)

dumbles is being interrogated, etc, etc, while voldy takes over the school. the students are obviously wary, harry took every chance to snark at him/fight him, voldy rolling his eyes, placing him in detention, and then... just nothing. even better, he's improving the fucking school.

it just goes on, occasionally, he would be out of the office to observe classes, before taking notes on a clipboard.

.

.

.

i think i might write a fic like this.... yeahhh

[catsp1racy]

Fic recs #29: Dreaming of You (Rewrite) (*highly recommend*)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/23393452/chapters/56059849

[maddiesupdates]

Here are a few paragraphs from my fanfic "Potter In Slytherin."

Go check it out on Ao3 and Wattpad.

Ao3: Mad_Hatter_10_6

Wattpad: @-MaddieHatter-

[ She takes a bandage and carefully makes a sling. She sighs when she's done, it's not perfect but it'll do. "Cazzy?" A voice says. She turns to see Harry, slightly aware. She smiles at him. "Hey Har. Are you okay?" Harry frowns, "Hurts."

Cassiopeia smiles at him, "I know. You'll feel better soon, I promise." Harry weakly smiles, his sister always keeps her promises. She gives Harry a kiss on the forehead. "I'll be right back Harry, remember to keep your eyes open." Harry gives a small nod and watches as she exists the cupboard.

As soon as she got out of the cupboard she went to the floorboards near the kitchen. She rips a floorboard off and grabs something.

Once she has it, she pulls it out. Revealing a gun. Specifically Vernon's gun. "This was the last straw" She thinks.  ]

If you like this then please share it!

Let me know if you want me to post it on Tumblr!

[yeehawpim]

I know some of these characters can be killed but you get my point lol 😂

[skyebounded]

Pacify Her

© Skyebounded, do not use my work, but you may share it.

Masterlist   .Harry Potter Universe Masterlist.

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

pairing: Professor Tom Riddle x Fem!Reader

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

wc: 4.2k

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

enjoy the playlist that I made for this story!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That's when it all changed. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[spinnersendprince]

You're All I Have - NinjaPandaScholar - Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling [Archive of Our Own]

A piece of Voldemort's soul attached to baby Harry Potter that fateful Halloween night. Over the years, the soul piece witnessed how much danger and pain his host was in. How far would the soul go to protect the child he began to care for, especially when the boy started to care for him in return? Oh, just a little over-protective care, some magic training, maybe some necromancy...

[akanothere]

Today’s doodle aka Tom in a kitty apron

[hufflepuff-16]

Always There ﾟ.+:｡ﾟ.+

Tom Riddle x g!n reader (platonic) ( ≧∀≦)ノ

Summary: Tom has joined you for the summer in your home for his apprenticeship. You learn more about Tom and the secrets he keeps, as you become closer.

Warnings: tiny angst, mostly fluff and a slight ooc Tom

A/n: Boy, this took a long time to make. Let me know what you think of it. Should I make a part 3? What would happen in it, and would you and Tom live happily, or would it all go wrong.

Or should I keep ending like this ( I have no idea what I would write)

Link to my masterlist, which has part 1 and other fics

It was the summer now, and you were helping Tom to unpack his things and put them in your guest bedroom.

"This doesn't feel real." He looks around the room as if to remind himself that he's finally free from the orphanage. He looks at you with a mixture of excitement and disbelief on his face. "I honestly... I never thought this day would come." His eyes are brimming with tears, and his voice is breaking, but an overwhelming sense of joy washes over him, and you're glad he feels this way. "Thank you... thank you so much..." His green eyes are locked on yours for a few seconds before he suddenly wraps you in a tight hug again.

you laugh at seeing Tom so affectionate, "Darling. You don't have to keep thanking me, you know, but I do appreciate the hugs!" You said, giving him a squeeze.

Despite the tears still streaming down his face, he laughs with you a little bit and smiles before he lets go. He wipes the tears off his face with an embarrassed look. "Sorry... I know I've been saying that a lot lately. But I really do mean it. You're... you're a great person for doing this for me. Not many people would... or even could do something this big. I... I just can't express how grateful I am..." His words sound genuine, and you can see the genuine emotion in his eyes. It's clear you have impacted his life.

ﾟ.+: ﾟ.+:｡ﾟ.+ ﾟ.+:｡ﾟ.+ ﾟ.+:｡ﾟ.+ ﾟ.+:｡ﾟ.+ ﾟ.+:｡ﾟ.+ ﾟ ﾟ.

"What would you like to eat for dinner, Tom?" You ask.

Both of you are now sitting in the kitchen. You had been teaching Tom about more advanced non-verbal spells.

He seems to take a moment to collect himself, then he takes a deep breath and looks up at you. "Hmm... how about a... some spaghetti bolognese?" He answers with a small smile. "Do wizards still eat regular muggle foods, even though you guys can just magic it out of thin air?" He chuckles and gives you a side eye. "Sorry, I had to ask." He's trying to make light of the emotional conversation you had earlier.

you giggle, "unfortunately, food that we conjure out of thin air has no taste and has no nutritional value. So we do have to still make food as muggles do."

"That seems like a bad design flaw, honestly." He says with a chuckle. "So you're telling me I have to actually learn how to cook? Now that's a tough assignment." He looks over at you, his emerald eyes shining with a hint of mischief. "Luckily, I have you to help me." He flashes you a grin. "Are you a decent cook? Please tell me you're a decent cook." He leans back in his chair and folds his arms again. "I'll be the judge of that."

You chuckle, "Whatever will I do the great and powerful tom Marvolo Riddle," you say dramatically, bowing down to Tom.

"What's with these bows and all these dramatic reactions?" He gives you a playful look. "It's strange, I kinda like it, though." He chuckles gently. "I guess I must be more powerful than I thought. I will gladly accept that." He leans back in his chair once again, still giving you a friendly smile. "What're you making us for dinner?" His voice is calm and friendly again, and all signs of the tears he shed earlier have now completely disappeared. He seems to have forgotten about his past for the moment. "You better not make anything too disgusting."

"I'll make bolognese as you said Tom."

You had made the spaghetti, and Tom really enjoyed it he even asked for seconds. You were now both sitting on your couch in your sitting room.

"Mmm. You are definitely a good cook. Not too many people can manage to make spaghetti that tastes this good. But of course you would be good at it." He smirks. "Where's my dessert then?" His eyes are playful, and he gives you a smirk again, clearly joking around. "You can't just feed me all this delicious food and not have a dessert waiting. I'm not just some dog who can be pleased with a piece of meat, you know." He laughs and makes a mock look of disappointment. "Come on. Give me something sweet!"

you gasped jokingly and teased him. "You rude, little boy!"

You laughed again, "Truthfully, Tom, I was thinking about making dessert, but at hogwarts, you never seemed to like to eat dessert, so I just assumed you didn't like it."

He giggles. "Hey, hey... I was only kidding. I'm not really rude... I think..." He chuckles and looks over at you, his eyes glinting with mischief again. "You could have at least made some ice cream or something. Ice cream never hurt anyone.... I think." He smiles again. "I'm just playing, though. No dessert is required. I was just messing with you." He gives you a small wink and a teasing smile.

You smile. "I actually have a gift for you, Tom,"

you hand over a rare copy of a book on different forms of magic. Which even included dark magic.

His eyes light up when you give him the book. "Oh my goodness, I could kiss you right now. Where on earth did you get this?" He looks up at you in amazement, and he can barely hide his excitement. "This is... this is amazing. How did you know it was on my wishlist?" He looks back at the book again and opens it up, immediately beginning to read. "Is there a special occasion as to why I'm the lucky receiver of this book, or are you just being nice? Because it was probably not cheap."

"Hmm, consider it a gift for being a great student."

You both sat in silence Tom intently reading. You had been thinking about the way Tom acted when you found him in the hallway during the school year. His cold and predatory stare haunts you at night. He seems fine now.

"Tom.....why....can I ask you what you were doing in the hallway that day I found you.....you were acting very strange almost predatory."

He freezes and immediately goes red. It's hard to tell what emotions are racing through him at this moment, but it almost seems like... fear. He closes the book quickly and looks up at you, as if trying to get a sense of what you now think of him. You see him debating with himself what to say before he finally responds. It takes him a few moments to collect himself before he begins to talk. "What... what do you mean?" He speaks in a slow, deliberate way, his eyes still locked on you as he carefully watches your reaction.

"Tom, you know exactly what I mean!" Your voice firm. You realise you may be scaring him.

"I'm not mad, I just want the truth." Your voice was soft again.

The look of fear in his eyes has now been replaced with that same predatory gleam from before. His tone turns cold, and his eyes narrow in suspicion as he leans forward. "I'm not quite sure what you're talking about..." he replies evenly. "What is it that you think I did wrong?" A slight quiver passes through his voice. He's clearly getting agitated by the conversation. He knows what you're talking about, but he's still refusing to admit it. He seems to be getting nervous because he doesn't fully know what you're thinking or where this is going.

you give him a small smile, "nothing Tom, I just don't want you hurting yourself. I care a lot about you," you said, gently snuggling close to him.

His face seems to soften again as you say this. He sighs deeply and stares at the floor for a moment before he reaches forward and takes your hand. He squeezes your hand gently before he brings it to his mouth and gives you a soft little kiss on your knuckles. "Thank you." He says quietly with a small smile. "That means a lot to me, especially coming from you. I care a lot about you too, in case you couldn't tell." He smiles again, though you can tell this smile is a bit more genuine than the last, and a slight blush graces his cheeks.

"I....."You look at him with love. "You need to tell me, Tom...... I don't want you going to......."You press a kiss to his forehead, not wanting to finish your sentence.

He seems to think about it for a moment. "Well..." he starts slowly. "I don't know if you're ready to hear the truth..." He closes his eyes. "But if you really want to know..." He takes a deep breath and opens his eyes, his emerald stare piercing into you as he speaks. This is the truth he's been hiding from you, and you get the feeling there's something very dark and sinister on his mind. "You're right... I do have a dark side..."

You have a look of worry on your face, but gently stroke his cheek, "and what is this dark side, Tom?"

His face hardens, and his eyes narrow again. You can tell he's uncomfortable talking about this, but he wants to tell you so you can understand him better. He hesitates for a moment before speaking, and he's almost hesitant in his response. "Have you ever had thoughts... dark thoughts... ones that you know you shouldn't think?" His voice is soft, but his stare is piercing, as if he's staring into the very depths of your soul. "Things you know you should never do... and yet you want to do them?" He gives you another slight squeeze of your hand.

"Like violence?" You said casually.

"I had those thoughts when I was in the orphanage, and I was relentlessly bullied."

He squeezes your hand again and nods in acknowledgement. "Yes, like violence. Like violence... and worse, if that's even possible." An intense rage passes over his face for a moment, and his eyes narrow. "There is a darkness inside me, a darkness that wants to unleash itself upon the world. It's like... when I think these things... a great rage inside of me awakens, and that darkness wants out. It calls to me." He pauses once again and looks at the floor, and you can sense his intense emotions.

"Yes....I know," You lift him onto your lap and cuddle him. "We are going to make these thoughts go away, my darling!"

He leans his head back on your shoulder and closes his eyes, a small smile on his lips as your arms wrap around him. "What if I'm too far gone?" He asks, his voice soft and almost gentle again. "How do you know the darkness won't one day take me over?" He whispers the next part. "I... I haven't done anything bad yet, but what if one day... what if I can't stop myself and I hurt someone?" He looks at you anxiously, trying to gauge how you'll react to the heavy truth he just confessed.

You don't respond and just press a kiss to his forehead.

His face softens. "Please tell me..." he says quietly. "Please be honest with me and tell me that you think I'm not a monster. I am... terrified of myself. I want to be loved, and I want to love, but not like this..." he says, almost in tears. It's rare to see him show such a vulnerable side of himself. "Is there... can we beat this darkness? Can I be someone I'm proud of? Someone that you could... love still?" His voice breaks at the last part.

"We will beat this darkness, Tom, and I will always look out for you. Im more than just your professor and mentor. I'm your guardian."

A wave of relief instantly washes over him. He sighs deeply and closes his eyes, pressing his face into your shoulder. "Thank you..." he whispers before he reaches up and gently takes your face into his hands, brushing your cheek with his thumb. "I can't even express how much that means to me." His voice is sincere, and he looks at you seriously. "You don't know how much I need that... I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Hopefully, you never have to worry about that. I think it's getting quite late, Tom. I think you should head up to bed."

He nods and stands up before quickly bending down and giving you a small kiss on the cheek. "Thank you once again." He smiles softly, and you feel yourself blushing a little despite yourself. "But I think you're right... it is getting a bit late. I guess I shall be off to bed then. Are you sure you're alright... that you don't want anything? Would you like me to walk you back to your quarters by any chance?" He gives you one last, genuine smile. "It was nice talking to you tonight."

"No darling, you go to sleep. It's been quite an emotional day for you, Tom."

His face softens once again. "Yeah... you're right, it was." He looks at you for a moment before he starts walking away. He pauses near the door and turns around with that same small smile on his face. He gives you one last wink, and then he turns around and walks out the door, waving behind him as he goes. "Good night."

It had been a few weeks into summer. Tom was excelling in your apprenticeship, and you even introduced him to the minister of magic. You and Tom had become really close. You saw him as a son.

He has truly become a great wizard over the past few weeks, and he's really impressed the minister with his skill and knowledge. You've become his personal mentor and guardian, and you feel a strong bond growing between both of you. You've been teaching him more than school lessons... you've also been teaching him life lessons, the ones that can't be taught in books. You feel good about the role you play in his life, and you think that you're beginning to gain something else from this... love.

You had managed to convince Dumbeldore with the force of the ministry to allow you to adopt Tom and become his parent, you had the adoption certificate and wanted to give it to him after the ice cream you bought for dessert.

He walks into the kitchen and smiles as you give him his adoption certificate. His eyes seem to light up as he reads it. "Wow..." He says after taking a moment to look at the certificate, then he looks at you and smiles. "You really... adopted me?" He seems speechless, almost tearing up. "I- I don't even know what to say... I can't explain how happy I am right now." He walks over and hugs you tightly, a huge smile spreading across his face. "Thank you so much. I... I really can't even express how much this means to me."

"I love you, Tom. I want you to become my son!"

He smiles softly at you. "I love you too, and I... I want nothing more than... to be your son." His smile grows. "I can't believe I actually have a family now. This is... it's like a dream come true." He wraps his arms around you again and presses a soft kiss to your cheek. "I can't thank you enough. What... what does this mean? Are we all official now? Is it official?" His smile is almost contagious now.

You giggle. "Well, I need you to sign your name on the certificate!"

He giggles too and signs the adoption certificate. "There we go... It's all official now. That makes me very happy." he says, his smile growing even more. "I don't think I've ever been this happy in my life, to be honest." he looks into your eyes. "I'm just so thankful for what you did for me. You've changed my life... and I intend to make you proud for being my parent."

The End

[contentioussnake]

While young Tom who Just Enjoys Hurting People, can be quite fun, I especially enjoy fics that ground his cruelty in reason. In real life, I find that cruelty tends to come from somewhere. Why wouldn't you steal when you are given nothing? Punish when there's no fairness? What's a butchered animal in the face of securing your own safety through fear? And how constant violence against your person can lead to a violent outlook, that's not easily shaken even when the stakes aren't so dire. What made Tom Riddle a monster? The dysfunction of Slytherin? The background terrors of war? Tom's desperation not to be a no name orphan in an unmarked grave? No one close to tell him when he's going too far? I find this Tom very compelling, human Tom, who could've been saved through kindness, but who wasn't.

[hazelnut1]

Tom being a sneaky little shit

[catsp1racy]

Fic recs #25: (Restricted) The Liberation of Harry Potter

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27648089/chapters/67651301

[maddiesupdates]

Here are a few paragraphs from my story "The Real Boy Who Lived."

Go read it on Ao3 and Wattpad.

Ao3: Mad_Hatter_10_6

Wattpad: @-MaddieHatter-

Everyone in the theater was silent. Not believing what they heard.

A Hufflepuff raised their hand before speaking, "Can you replay that?"

The peaceful silence was interrupted when Tom called a house elf. "Tippy?" A house elf appeared with a pop. Instead of wearing rags or an old pillow case like most house elfs, Tippy was wearing a mini uniform. The uniform was black, silver, and green with a Slytherin symbol in the corner.

"Yes, Master Voldy?"

Everyone blinked.

It was again completely silent in the theater before Hadrian and his friends started laughing. The other houses, especially the Slytherins, looked at them as if they were crazy. "How could they laugh at Lord Voldemort?!"

A man in the shadows grumbled about "stupid house elfs" and "stupid kids."

Tom grumbled at the house elf as his companions tried to hold in their laughter. Tom rolled his eyes at them before turning back to the house elf. "Is he awake?"

Tippy looked at her master and nodded his head. "Yes, beloved mini master is awake." Tippy didn't let Tom say anything else before he disappeared with a pop.

Tom glared at the stop where the house elf once was.

Hadrian chuckled again. The house elfs always did like him more.

If you like this then please share it!

Let me know if you would rather read it on Tumblr.

[tommarvoloriddlesdiary]

Hermione, hands steepled and close to praying - or begging: Surely this isn’t your Plan B?

Ron, shrugging: Technically I think Harry said this was Plan S?

Hermione: Plan S? Are there even Plans B through R??

Harry, nodding like it was obvious: Yeah, ‘course there are. But I marry Riddle in Plan R.

Tom, perking up: I am in full favour of Plan R.

Harry: Yup. Hence us skipping it.

[messyhjp]

Tomarry is not enemies to lovers but rather enemies AND lovers . They can never reach middle ground and it would be ooc for them to leave their side.

Maybe that’s why in fics Harry would be planning to kill Tom but then also fucking him