₊˚⊹౨ TAKE ME TO CHURCH [T.M.R.] ৎ ₊˚⊹
warnings: domestic violence, mentions of murder (it’s tom riddle are we even surprised?)
summary: At the hour of the owl, driven by anger and hurt, you left your dorm and wandered towards the Black Lake. There you encounter Tom Riddle. Your enigmatic conversation with your academic rival took an unexpected turn, leaving you with more questions than answers as you headed back to the castle.
pairing: tom riddle x ravenclaw fem!reader
word count: 2.8k
a/n: this is a draft that I didn’t plan on posting but I’m so busy atm I don’t have time to write anything else 🥲 again english is not my first language so sorry if there are any mistakes! as always my inbox is open and I’m happy to hear any criticism or requests as long as you are polite 🤍 not incredibly proud of this but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless <333
It was the hour of the owl when you left your dorm room. Strictly forbidden, yes, but as a prefect—even if off-duty that evening—you were willing to risk detention. Quite unusual for an obedient Ravenclaw like yourself, but here you were, sneaking out like a thief in the night.
“Oh, bloody hell,” you muttered, consumed by anger that clouded your thoughts. Hatred and adrenaline coursed through your veins. The Ravenclaw common room was empty; everyone else was already in bed, even those who usually stayed up late. No one would see or question your departure. It was nearly three in the morning, dark and silent.
You made your way across the empty common room and down the stairs of Ravenclaw Tower, not entirely sure where you were going, but driven by a need to escape everything. The ancient Hogwarts castle was cold and empty, its walls whispering secrets. Some might find the silence unsettling, but you found it oddly comforting. The cool evening breeze was soothing against your warm skin, though you would likely regret leaving your sweater behind later. Dressed in your usual uniform—a skirt, a white button-up, and the silver-blue tie— you moved carefully through the deserted halls, avoiding even the faintest creak.
The castle felt unimaginably vacant. Your anger had begun to ebb, replaced by a gradual calmness. The walk and fresh air had helped. As you meandered through the halls, you decided to venture outside the castle. It wasn’t entirely safe, but you had your wand and weren't afraid of the dark anymore. The stars shone brightly above, and your worries seemed to drift away.
Heading towards the Black Lake to clear your mind, you noticed a figure on the shore. Your heart raced with fear. Quickly gripping your wand, you crept closer, only to recognize the familiar figure of Tom Riddle. His jet-black hair, piercing dark eyes, and imposing stature could not be mistaken. The sight of him was both intimidating and oddly magnetic.
“Riddle,” you called, your voice cutting through the quiet. As he turned, his wand aimed at the ready, you saw his defensive stance relax.
“Y/L/N,” Tom said, his tone sharp as ever. “It is rather uncouth to approach someone unannounced.”
You had never liked him, and the feeling was mutual. What began as a snarky rivalry in your first year had escalated into a fierce competition. Each of you tried to outdo the other, pushing boundaries and limits, reveling in victories and defeats. Despite your mutual animosity, there was an undeniable, if twisted, connection between you. Tom was not like other boys; he was cold, calculating, and ruthless. Yet, he maintained a facade of the humble, ambitious scholar. He was a wolf in sheep’s clothing, and though you would never admit it, you found his intensity compelling.
“Well, that certainly wasn’t my intention, Riddle. My apologies,” you replied sarcastically.
As you approached, you noticed Tom’s irritated expression and the cigarette he had dropped. He took out another one, lit it with his wand, and took a drag before addressing you.
“I should be asking you the same thing, Y/L/N,” he said, ignoring your remark. “It’s never easy with you, is it?”
“You’re the one to talk,” you retorted. “I didn’t know you smoked.”
Tom’s unimpressed glance betrayed his indifference. “Well, I’m delighted to catch you off guard.”
The sight of him indulging in such a muggle habit was unexpected. Given his staunch pureblood beliefs, it was surprising. But you supposed it made sense, considering his upbringing in a muggle orphanage. Where he got the cigarettes from was another mystery.
His reaction to your mention of muggles was intense. “I have nothing to do with those filthy creatures. The mere idea is offensive. Muggles are obsessed with pleasure, indulgence, and waste. They are nothing but animals in disguise.”
Tom’s passionate tirade was one of his defining traits. His ability to articulate his disdain with such fervor was both disturbing and strangely admirable. You had learned to disregard his over-the-top responses, focusing instead on his more genuine moments.
“Merlin, Riddle, calm down. It was just a question,” you said, trying to remain unfazed.
“And I am just answering you,” he countered, his demeanor quickly reverting to his usual composed facade. He took another drag of his cigarette, and a heavy silence settled between you.
After a moment, he broke the quiet. “So what is an obedient Ravenclaw like yourself doing out at this hour? I thought breaking the rules wasn’t your style.” His smirk was maddening.
You wrapped your arms around yourself, the earlier anger fading, replaced by an uncomfortable shudder of vulnerability. Tom noticed the change in your demeanor and his expression grew serious. His perceptiveness was unnerving, a reminder of why you found it hard to trust him fully.
“Well, it’s stupid really. Foolish,” you admitted, defeated.
Tom raised an eyebrow, puffing smoke as you locked eyes. A silent understanding passed between you, a mutual recognition of the truth. You began to speak, revealing the turmoil behind your nighttime escapade.
You sat on the edge of your bed, struggling to focus on your assignments late into the evening.
The room was quiet except for the sound of your quill scratching parchment and the occasional rustle of pages. All your dormmates were out at a Gryffindor party celebrating their victory over Slytherin in the Quidditch match. You weren't worried about their early return; it was Friday, and with no classes the next day, they were likely to be out until afternoon, lost in firewhisky or other indulgences. They'd tried to drag you along, but you'd claimed a severe headache and a need for rest. None of them believed you, dismissing your excuses with rolled eyes and playful jabs.
As they left, one of them teased,
"Have fun trying to turn rubbish into a raccoon dog," and they all laughed.
You rolled your eyes, knowing their words were harmless. You were close friends who respected each other deeply; this was just part of your dynamic.
Just as you were settling into the quiet, a sudden interruption shattered the peace. Someone opened your dorm room door, and annoyance flared at the disruptive noise. "Jane, is that you? Because I swear on my mother's-" you began scolding as you turned, but your words faltered when you saw the dark mop of slicked-back hair. It was your boyfriend, Wiglaf Siggurdson.
"Sorry to disappoint," he chuckled, closing the door behind him with a soft click. You were relieved it wasn't one of the girls, but his presence did little to uplift your mood. You liked Wiglaf; he was smart, confident, and everything a girl could wish for. Yet, you often questioned if you truly loved him, if you loved him enough to be with him. He was the one who had asked you to be his girlfriend, and being the polite person you were, you had accepted. He came from a wealthy family, had impeccable manners, played Quidditch, and was almost perfect in every way. But you appreciated him more as a friend and couldn't bring yourself to admit it. You tried hard to convince yourself that he was the one, but your heart wouldn't comply. He was kind, brought you flowers, carried your books, walked you to classes, and treated you like the most special girl on earth. Yet, his presence stirred a surge of irritation.
"I was studying, you know, before you decided to interrupt me unannounced," you said stiffly, turning back to your work. Wiglaf stood in the middle of the room, unsure of how to proceed.
"So, no greeting? No 'Hello, my dear boyfriend who decided to ditch a party to come and see me'?" he remarked sarcastically. "And it's not like you're not always studying.
Nothing new really," he muttered under his breath. The tension in the room was palpable.
"Well, I didn't ask you to come see me," you said matter-of-factly without turning around. His frustration was evident as he moved closer to you.
"And not all of us have a rich father to secure a job at the Ministry as soon as we graduate, you know," you said, tone sharp. He sat beside you and sighed heavily. Dressed in a blue sweater and casual dress pants, he looked dejected.
"And not all of us have a rich father to secure a job at the Ministry as soon as we graduate, you know," you said, tone sharp. He sat beside you and sighed heavily. Dressed in a blue sweater and casual dress pants, he looked dejected.
"You know I didn't mean it like that," he said softly. You still refused to look at him. "Sure," you mumbled, uninterested.
"And anyway, if you marry me, you won't have to worry about things like that," he added, beaming with self-satisfaction. You froze, trying to process his words. "Excuse me?" you said, clearly offended. It wasn't unusual for women not to work after graduation, but you had made it clear that you intended to. His casual joke about it now was hurtful. You had hoped he understood you better. Even if you did marry him, you wanted to work and maintain your
independence. You didn't want to rely on anyone, especially not someone you weren't sure you truly loved.
"What's up with you?" Wiglaf groaned. "You're always so wound up and offended by everything I say.
You're always busy studying, and it's always some excuse for why you can't go or can't do this or that. You never actually want to spend time with me." His voice rose with anger. "So far, I'm the only one putting any effort into this relationship It's supposed to be a two person job.”
You frowned and buried your face in your hands. "Wiglaf, I'm not in the mood for this right now. I want to study and go to sleep. Can we please save this lecture for another time?" you said wearily.
"No!" he thundered unexpectedly.
"You don't get to do this. You don't get to treat me like some dog on a leash," he hissed. You sighed, exasperated. "Oh, come on, stop acting childish, Wiglaf," you said, rolling your eyes as you began packing up your papers. You had no intention of continuing this argument; all you wanted was to go to bed.
"I come here, ditching all my mates to spend time with my girlfriend, who doesn't even bother to greet me, and now I'm the one acting childish?" He stood up, his frustration reaching a crescendo. "Oh, please," you muttered, standing up as well. As you tried to gather your papers, they slipped from your hands as Wiglaf gripped your wrists. The sudden contact shocked you, and your eyes widened in surprise.
"I think you need to be taught a lesson," he said with a dangerous glint in his eyes. You could see the lust taking over his gaze. "Wiglaf, let go of me. I'm not in the mood right now," you said, your patience fraying.
But he was too enraged to listen. He pulled you closer, his grip painful.
"Wiglaf, let go! You're hurting me!" you protested, struggling against his hold. Instead of relenting, he pressed himself against you and forcefully kissed you, gripping your face and preventing you from breaking free. In a desperate attempt to escape, you kicked him in the shin. The contact caused him to release you, and he hunched over in pain. You stood there, stunned by your own actions while he grunted, recovering from the kick.
The room was silent except for his pained breathing.
When he regained his composure, his eyes burned with rage. "Wiglaf, I-" you started, but before you could finish, he slapped you across the face.
The force of the blow left you reeling, and you felt the sting and warmth of blood on your lips. Wiglaf stood there, stunned, as if he couldn't fully grasp what he had just done.
Your fight-or-flight response kicked in, and you pushed past him, fleeing the room. He didn't try to follow you.
After a few moments, he collapsed on the floor, staring at the floorboards as he grappled with the gravity of his actions.
As you ran through Ravenclaw Tower, a whirlwind of emotions swept through you: shock, shame, disgust, guilt, sadness, and finally, red-hot seething anger. The only thought that brought you any comfort was the imagined cold, lifeless body of Wiglaf.
How could he do this after everything you had shared? It was unfathomable.
And that's how you found yourself sitting beside Tom Riddle on the shore of the Black Lake.
...and then I just left," you finished quietly. A heavy silence followed your explanation, and Tom's features darkened. You chuckled at the irony of it all. "Well, I suppose that's what l get for thinking that I-"
You didn't get to finish your sentence as Tom interrupted you. "I'm going to kill him." He stated plainly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. You flinched at his violent intentions.
"What?" You quaked hoarsely. He couldn't be serious... could he?
"You heard me." Tom's eyes were sharp as he took a few steps closer. But you never knew Tom Riddle to be the type to joke about things like that.
"He dared lay a hand on what's mine, and now he's going to pay for it." His tone was cold.
What's his? By day, you were nothing but an academic rival to Tom Riddle, but by night, you were suddenly his treasured possession? What a twisted mind indeed. You sighed at his words, rubbing your temples, trying to make sense of everything. "Tom, you can't just-"
"Yes, I can and I will. Because tell me, do you not think about me when he's inside of you, when you touch yourself, when you wake up in the morning? You don't love him, Y/N. We both know it. And don't try to deny it. I see right through you." His voice was dark. "And don't tell me what I can and can't do. That's not for you to decide."You were stunned, your mind blank.
Tom Riddle was a confusing enigma.
One moment he hated you, the next he was willing to kill for you. For him, it was all the same. Wiglaf would just be another addition to his growing collection of Horcruxes. It was a win-win for him: a Horcrux, the removal of an annoyance, and you-all in one plan. Three birds, one stone.
Tom's body was now facing yours, and his cold hands brushed a stray hair from your forehead. "Don't waste your mind on people like him. I don't even know why you're with that dimwit..." he muttered quietly. His fingers traced the curve of your lip and the bloody spot Wiglaf's assault had left. As he touched you, the fire in your body reignited, and the magic you only felt around him came to life.
You never felt this way around Wiglaf.
With Tom, it was like you were alive for the first time. You burned for him.
You loved him. He knew it, and you knew it. Yet both of you understood it could never work. Your ambitions were far too... different.
You let your head rest on his palm, closing your eyes for a moment, letting all your worries fade away. Dreaming about a world in which Tom was capable of loving you. Or perhaps a world in which you were able to go against your moral compass and accept his twisted mind. You kissed his palm gently and then pulled away.
"I ought to get back to the castle before someone catches us. We'll both be in trouble." You cleared your throat and spoke.
Tom simply hummed in response.
Reluctantly, you moved away and started for the castle. Before you got too far, you turned to speak softly so he could hear you. "Good night, Tom."
His gaze was on you, but he didn't reply. You continued your way back to the castle, his eyes following your retreating form. When you were far enough away that Tom was sure you couldn't hear him, he spoke softly,
"Good night, my love."
The next morning, you didn't see Wiglaf at his usual spot at the breakfast table. You approached one of his mates to inquire about his whereabouts, wondering if he was hungover or something. But as you spoke to him, a look of concern crossed his face, and he regretfully explained that Wiglaf had ended up in the hospital wing the night before. No one knew how or why.
You felt a pair of eyes on you and turned to the Slytherin table. There they were: two onyx eyes staring back at you, deep into your soul, letting you know that once again, he had emerged victorious.
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A Panicked Dinner Party - Sirius Black
Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader
Summary: You and Sirius go to the Potter's for backup when Harry brings one of his friends around for dinner.
Warnings: fluff, swearing, panicked James, everyone lives au
A/n: I have a love/hate relationship with canon, can you tell? Hope you guys enjoy this and please let me know what you think! xxx
You were spritzing yourself with your favourite perfume before putting in the earrings that Sirius had got you for your birthday. Two strong arms wrapped around your waist and you were pulled into a toned chest. You giggled as he kissed your cheek, his stubble scratching against your skin.
“You look beautiful.”
You smiled at him in the reflection of the mirror as you leaned against him, “thank you,” you turned in his arms, fingers locking at the back of his neck as you pulled him into a proper kiss.
Sirius held your jaw gently as he kissed you back, “Mm,” he pulled you into a hug, resting his chin on your shoulder as he let out a sigh, “do we have to go to this dinner?”
“Yes,” you laughed as he groaned, “we promised James and Lily.”
“If that little toe rag steps out of line,” he trailed off with a growl.
“Baby,” you cupped his cheeks, staring into his gorgeous grey eyes, “I don’t think Harry would be inviting him to dinner if he was going to be horrible.” Sirius nodded, letting out a slow breath, you pressed a lingering kiss against his lips, “let me get my shoes on, then we’ll go.”
Once your shoes were on, you both apparated to Godric’s Hollow. You laced your fingers through your husband’s – so he wouldn’t run – as you walked up the Potter’s path. Before you could knock, the door was pulled open. The relief that spread across Lily’s face was almost laughable as she let you in.
“Thank Merlin you’re here! And you brought the wine, good,” she gasped as you handed her the bottle of wine. Before you could ask what was wrong, she spoke up again, “James is driving me fucking nuts.”
Almost on cue, James came into the hallway, a hand in his hair, “don’t panic,” he mumbled to himself, that’s when he saw you and raced up to you, his hands on your shoulders, shaking you slightly, “don’t fucking panic!”
You tried to hold in your laughter but it was near impossible, “James, you’re the only one who’s panicking right now,” Remus laughed as he popped his head round the corner, waving at you and Sirius.
Remus’ voice seemed to bring James out of the trance he was in. He muttered a ‘sorry’ as he let you and Sirius come through.
“So, why are you panicking anyway?” you asked as you shrugged out of your jacket and Lily poured you a glass of wine.
Sirius scoffed, “I’m sure you would panic too if the world’s biggest prat was coming round to our house for dinner,” Sirius quickly shut up as you and Lily glared at him.
Lily sighed as she took a swallow wine, “James thinks Draco and Harry are dating.”
You and Sirius were too shocked to speak, it seemed amazing that Harry had befriended someone that he’d hated, in his final year of school. So, the notion of them dating seemed unlikely.
“What makes you think they’re dating?” Remus asked in a calm voice.
James bit at his thumbnail, “he’s never once talked about girls, he’s only ever talked about boys. First, it was Oliver Wood, then Cedric Diggory and now, Draco Malfoy,” a look of horror washed over his face as he sank against the counter, “Merlin, my son is gay and thinks he can’t tell me. I’ve failed as a parent.”
Lily kissed his cheek, “sweetheart, he knows he can tell you if he’s gay, all teenagers are secretive.”
“I’m not ready to meet Harry’s boyfriend,” he mumbled.
“James, it’ll be fine, that’s why you’ve got us,” you gestured to Remus and Sirius, “but it’s not going to be fine if the veggies burn,” you went over to turn the heat off. He let out a watery chuckle and stood up to help you.
You had all managed to calm James down – with the help of some Firewhiskey – but when he heard a key turn in the lock he looked panicked again. In walked Harry, along with Ron, Hermione and Draco.
“We’re here guys!” he called out and walked into the living room, “Draco, this is well, everyone,” he laughed, looking slightly overwhelmed by the amount of people.
“Hi everyone,” Malfoy nodded. He shook James’ hand and returned Lily’s warm hug. You and Remus greeted him, while Sirius nodded his head but said nothing.
“Sirius, he’s your cousin,” you hissed.
“Second cousin,” he corrected you.
Ron picked up a parcel that he’d dropped off earlier in the week and handed it to Draco, “mum made this for you,” the tips of his ears turned red as Draco removed the tissue paper.
Molly had knitted him a green jumper that had the letter ‘D’ emblazoned on the front, with a snake curled up at its base. Draco smiled at Ron, “thanks Wea-,” he cut himself off, “Ron,” he corrected himself.
You figured that would take some getting used to. When Malfoy pulled the jumper over his head, Harry grinned and adjusted the collar. Draco let him, it looked very natural, like this had all happened before. James who had been getting increasingly antsy looked as though he’d reached his limit and pulled Ron and Hermione into the kitchen. Draco and Harry didn’t notice as they’d engaged Remus in conversation. You and Lily hovered around the door to listen in.
“Guys, are Harry and Malfoy,” he trailed off, not knowing what to say.
“Shagging?”
“Dating?”
Ron and Hermione spoke at the same time, “either,” James stuttered, looking more panicked at their words.
Ron and Hermione glanced at each other before turning to look back at James, “we don’t know,” Hermione said.
James looked slightly relieved that even Harry’s best friends didn’t know what was going on between Harry and Draco.
As dinner progressed, it was clear that Draco had matured a lot in the past year, you were glad he wasn’t a carbon copy of his father. He’d seemed to win everyone over, even Sirius, well Sirius was finally speaking to him in full sentences and looked him in the eye as he did so.
“Can you pass the salt please?” Draco nudged Harry who passed the salt over, “cheers, Potter,” it wasn’t said in a mocking way, his voice was full of affection as he said it.
James looked between Draco and his son, the panic on his face had slowly dissipated over the course of the dinner. You had to admit that they looked good together. While James was getting dessert together, you all pretended not to notice as Harry followed his father into the kitchen.
You perched on the edge of Sirius’ knee and kissed his cheek, laughing as he pulled you into his chest. James and Harry were in the kitchen for a little while, talking in hushed tones and you wished there was a way to block them out completely so they could have their privacy. You did catch them share a tight hug. Harry soon walked out of the kitchen with a grin on his face. James followed shortly carrying the treacle tart, his eyes were suspiciously wet but full of pride.
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