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cardansriddle · 5 months

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Sugar - (tom riddle x fem!muggle!reader)

Summary: Perhaps it was an accident. Or perhaps the fates were mocking him. He had not meant to venture into the little coffee shop and he had most definitely not meant to return. But he kept coming back and the waitress kept putting sugar packets near his coffee every damn time.

Warnings: Tom gets possessive halfway through so it's pretty tame for him. not proofread. oh also self-indulgent crime & punishment debate (got a lil carried away).

A/N: 5.5k words but it's kinda mehh. to the person who requested this, i hope you enjoy it at least a little <3

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆

Tom felt as if he was a solitary figure in a world hushed by the winter's harsh embrace. With each step he took away from the desolate building of grey against the pristine canvas of winter, he felt lighter. He did not cast a look back towards the orphanage looming behind him, instead focused on the sound of the snow crunching beneath his feet as they led him further into the dark street cloaked in a thick layer of snow.

The wizard knew if he spent another moment in that cursed place he would have lashed out and killed someone, so he had hastily thrown his coat and emerald scarf around himself before slamming the door shut behind him.

Two more years. He thought to himself. Then he would be out and would never be obligated to return again. Perhaps he would even burn the place to the ground if his plans worked out in his favour.

The air was crisp, and his breath materialized in front of him with each exhale. His eyes quickly scanned the narrow empty alley for a suitable quiet place where he could pass his time. There was nothing interesting, except for the tiny bookstore nestled in the corner of the street that emitted a warm, golden light through its window. Tom quickly decided it would do, and he strode towards the place with purpose. A small bell chimed as he entered the place, which he quickly realised was a bookstore with a cosy coffee shop tucked inside.

He inhaled the pleasant aroma of freshly brewed coffee mixed with the scent of weathered books. Before he could lose himself entirely in the intoxicating symphony of scents, a sudden, loud thud echoed from behind the counter, jolting him from his reverie.

"Blimey!" someone cursed, their voice slicing through the tranquillity. Tom found himself rooted to the spot, curiosity piqued, as a figure suddenly emerged from underneath the counter.

It was a girl. Unabashedly, his eyes traced the lines of her features, noting the delicate curve of her jaw and the cascade of hair that framed her face. He assumed she was around his age if not younger and he stared at the girl as she rubbed her head, wincing when she hit a particularly soft spot before she realised that she was not alone in the shop. She froze like a deer caught in the headlights and he watched as her cheeks flushed a deep shade of red.

Tom, still an observer, saw more than just the blush; he discerned the subtleties of her response, the way her eyes momentarily widened before seeking refuge elsewhere, fingers fidgeting with the edges of her knitted cardigan.

She attempted to compose herself and met his eyes. "Oh! Sorry, sir. How may I assist you?" She asked cheerfully, resisting the urge to duck her head down to avoid his intense stare.

He crossed the small distance to the counter. "I'd like a coffee. Black."

"No sugar?" she inquired, to which Tom raised a single brow. Her blush deepened as she quickly averted her eyes from his face.

"Right, of course. You may take a seat while I prepare this for you." With a nod, she hurried to fulfil his request, leaving Tom alone with the lingering scent of coffee and old books that were now intertwined with a pleasant smell of vanilla and sweet—

It was her perfume, he realised with a start.

He hastily removed his coat and scarf before plopping down on the nearest armchair. His gaze remained fixed on the girl, absorbed in the rhythm of her practised motions as she prepared his drink, her movements seemingly both effortless and comforting. There was an almost lazy grace to her actions and he continued to watch as she sang under her breath so softly if he had not been staring so intensely, he would not have picked up on it.

He wondered how he had never noticed this place before. He had been passing through this little street for as long as he could remember but for some reason, he had only stumbled upon it today. His sharp eyes darted around, instinctively searching for traces of magic, half-expecting the discovery of a hidden passage to the wizarding world but he quickly realised the place was undeniably, disappointingly muggle.

Muggle.

He tore his gaze away from the girl at the mental reminder of what she was. He fished out a book from his bag and opened it to occupy his mind.

The subtle shuffle of her approaching steps drew his attention back to the present, and he met her gaze as she placed the steaming cup of coffee before him. A sugar packet sat innocently beside it. His eyes lingered on the packet for a moment before lifting coldly to meet hers.

She, however, was undeterred by the intensity of his glare. “In case you change your mind.” She smiled at him softly before turning on her heel and walking back.

His gaze lingered on her retreating figure, and then, almost involuntarily, it dropped to the innocuous sugar packet.

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆

Tom did not know why he had returned. Truthfully, he had not even noticed his feet had led him here until he was in front of the familiar wooden door that led into the coffee shop. Perhaps he had thought more than he should’ve about the disgustingly soft smile of that girl for the last five months. She was an insolent muggle, yet here he was, walking into the place as if he had never left.

The seasons had blurred since he had last been here. Winter had long surrendered to the warmth of summer. He had to spend at least a month in the orphanage, and he was hoping Malfoy would invite him over for the rest of the summer.

The place was just as he remembered it. The only difference was the lack of Christmas decorations. He faltered only slightly when he took notice of the girl behind the counter, already staring at him. She had not changed much. Her face was the same, less pale perhaps, but the same, nonetheless. The oversized knitted sweater that once enveloped her had been replaced by a little white sundress, and his gaze involuntarily lingered on the exposed smooth skin.

“Welcome back!” She greeted him cheerfully, and he was not surprised she remembered him. “What can I get you?”

“Black coffee,” he replied curtly

She nodded as if she was expecting it. "Coming right up." Gently shutting her book, she gracefully moved towards the coffee machine. Tom's eyes couldn't help but trail to the volume she had been reading, and to his pleasant surprise, it was Dostoyevsky. He had not pegged her as someone who would enjoy Russian literature, with its weighty and morally morbid themes. In his mind, she seemed more likely to be a Jane Austen enthusiast, with her intricately written romances and flowery prose.

“It’s 'Crime and Punishment'." He suddenly heard her soft voice declare, and he looked away from the book to give his attention to the girl. Then feeling as if she had said something silly, she blushed and looked away quickly. "Though I'm sure you figured that. I just wondered why you look so surprised."

He replied before he could tell himself not to. "I did not imagine you as someone who would enjoy this."

Emboldened at his words, she turned to face him, a hand casually resting on her hip as she sported a cheeky smile. "Am I to presume you imagine me often?"

His sharp inhale was audible as he absorbed the unexpected shift in her demeanour. He had not expected this shy, timid girl to tease him so boldly. She was a little vixen.

But he did not give her the satisfaction of getting a reaction out of him. A lazy raise of his brow was the extent of his acknowledgement before his gaze wandered towards the rows of bookshelves, feigning indifference. "Do you have another copy? Perhaps I shall like to reread this evening."

She frowned, walking over towards the table he had occupied last time to set his coffee down. He grimly took notice of the sugar packet placed near it. "I'm afraid not. But you can have mine."

"No, that is quite alri—" He began to decline but she had already crossed the small distance between them and was holding out the thick book. He hesitated for a moment before his fingers closed around the object, careful to avoid touching hers.

The girl smiled and walked away before he could even say thanks. Not like he was going to.

Settling back into the soft armchair, he opened the book only to freeze at the sight of a name scribbled on the front page and he knew it belonged to her. The wizard rolled the name around in his mind and determined that it suited her. He stared at her name for a minute longer before turning the page and delving into the content of the book.

He had been so immersed in the story that he had not noticed how the time had passed. The gradual hush of the coffee shop's ambient sounds finally penetrated his concentration, and he distinctly heard the girl approaching him.

"I'm sorry to disturb you but we're closing in five minutes." She looked at the book in his hands. "You may return it once you're done."

He hummed and looked down at where he had stopped.

"We sometimes encounter people, even perfect strangers, who begin to interest us at first sight, somehow suddenly, all at once, before a word has been spoken."

He wondered if the universe was trying to tell him something.

Tom found himself caught in the silent narrative of this stranger's presence.

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆

He returned the next day.

She looked up to see him enter, the sleeves of his button-up shirt rolled up.

Tom placed the book on the counter.

"You finished it in one day?"

He shrugged. "I'm a fast reader."

She gave him a small smile, turning to make his black coffee before he could ask for it. "Every time I reread it it takes me a few days." She paused for a moment, turning to look at him over her shoulder. "The usual?"

He nodded. "The usual." He debated whether or not to voice his next question, and decided one conversation with the girl would not hurt.

"Why do you read it so often?"

"Each time I find new details that make Raskolnikov's character more complex. Each time I discover these small little things I missed the last time I read it becomes so much better. Plus I enjoy his moral dilemma."

He hummed, his curiosity piqued. He took his usual seat and watched as she brought his coffee and set it down in front of him. "Enlighten me." He gestured towards the seat in front of him. She hesitated only for a second before taking a seat.

"Raskolnikov is obviously a complex character. His actions are driven by a desire for power and superiority, a belief that he is exempt from conventional morality. However, one could argue that his internal struggles and eventual remorse suggest a more nuanced exploration of morality."

Tom furrowed his brows. "I see him as a product of his environment, a desperate man driven to extremes by the harsh circumstances he faced. His morality shifts to the other side of the spectrum."

She cocked her head to the side, and he could see her getting slightly frustrated. "But morality is not just a spectrum; it's a complex interplay of values, societal norms, and personal convictions. Raskolnikov's guilt stems from the clash between his actions and the intrinsic moral compass within him. It's the consequence of recognizing the weight of one's choices."

He scoffed before he could stop himself. "Morality is subjective. What is right for one may not be right for another. Raskolnikov was weak and he was an idiot. Guilt is a useless emotion and it is for the weak."

Her expression remained unwavering. "But perhaps it's that recognition of guilt that separates the morally discerning from those who lack empathy. The fact that you can't comprehend his guilt doesn't make it foolish. It makes it human."

Tom's eyes narrowed a glint of impatience in his gaze. "Human or not, guilt is a hindrance. It's a sentiment for those too feeble to rise above their actions. If I were to make a difficult choice, I would do it without hesitation, without remorse."

He only realised the slip of his tongue after the words left his mouth. He stilled, gauging her reaction yet her response was measured but firm. "Raskolnikov's guilt is a testament to his humanity, his ability to grapple with the consequences of his choices. It's what sets him apart from those who operate without remorse."

"But—"

"So what you're saying is you would kill and feel no remorse?" She cut him off.

Yes.

"You do not understand." He did not intend his tone to be so harsh, yet the words left his mouth coldly. She visibly withdrew and nodded stiffly. "Right. Enjoy your coffee."

He opened his mouth to say something but realised for the first time in his life he did not know what to say.

He was left staring at the cursed sugar packet she had left near his coffee again.

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆

He did not return the next day. Nor the day after. Or after.

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆

Two weeks passed with no sign of him.

And then she saw him step into the coffee shop. He walked in with determination. He walked up to the counter, meeting her gaze with an intensity that mirrored the unspoken tension between them. "I'd like a black coffee," he said, his tone even, though a hint of something lingered beneath the surface.

She nodded, her expression composed but guarded. As she prepared the coffee, the air seemed charged with unspoken words. Her usual cheerful smile was notably absent. The absence struck him, and he realised he had enjoyed her smiles.

When she placed the coffee in front of him, there was a palpable pause. He glanced at the sugar packet, a subtle acknowledgement of the lingering disagreement. Without a word, he took it, his eyes meeting hers briefly before he poured the sugar into his coffee.

She looked at him, her gaze unwavering, before a small, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corner of her lips.

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆

He returned the next day. And the day after that. And for the rest of summer.

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆

The next time he stepped into the familiar place, winter had covered the city with a snowy blanket once again. It had been a year since he first discovered this little place. And he had not seen his little waiter since he left for Hogwarts in September.

When he walked in, her eyes lit up visibly. "Hi!" She waved at him with a bright grin.

"Hello." He greeted as he unwrapped his scarf and settled in his usual seat. In a matter of minutes, she was bringing him his usual order. She was back to wearing her warm knitted sweaters. "How did you enjoy the book?"

"Oscar Wilde never disappoints," he said. She hummed in agreement, pleased at his words. He watched as her hands dropped to fidget with the bottom of her sweater. "You wish to ask me something." He stated. "Ask."

"Do you study in a boarding school?"

Tom hesitated only for a moment before replying. "Yes."

"Oh. Well, that explains the months of not showing up."

"Were you expecting me?" He teased her with an amused smirk, taking delight in the way her cheeks reddened.

"I was just wondering that is all," she admitted, a hint of curiosity peeking through. Tom observed her, noting the return of the timid, shy girl from their first encounter. It amused him how a few teasing remarks could momentarily whisk away her fiery boldness. He couldn't help but wonder what it would take to awaken it once again.

"And do you wonder about me often, little vixen?" he added, a playful glint in his eyes.

She blushed harder at the nickname but then as if a thought had struck her, she straightened and Tom watched as she visibly mustered up her courage. "I actually was wondering your name."

He bristled, but she must have not noticed because she continued. "I suppose I have not given you mine either." She mused out loud and announced her name to him. "But I thought it bizarre that considering all the time we've talked we never got around to that. Friends who do not each other's names." The girl laughed at the last notion and only then she realised that Tom had remained unnervingly quiet throughout the exchange. She raised her eyes from the frayed edges of her sweater, and the sight almost made her take a step back. His eyes had darkened, and she could have sworn she saw them flash red. There was no warmth, no familiarity in his gaze.

"Are you alright?"

Suddenly, he rose from his seat, an ominous tension permeating the air as he advanced towards her with every word. "We are not friends. You dare to think I would be friends with the likes of you?" His words were sharper than the keenest of blades, cutting into her with merciless precision. "Foolish, little girl," He spat out before grabbing his things and storming out of the place. As the door closed behind him, the little coffee shop seemed to exhale, the echoes of his harsh words lingering in the hushed aftermath.

She stood frozen in her place, helpless against the storm of emotions and the tears that began to veil her vision.

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆

Tom fumed for months after their last encounter. How dare the ignorant muggle insinuate that they were friends? He scarcely considered his Knights of Walpurgis as his friends, and she thought she would just appoint herself the title? Who did she think she was?

"Mate, you alright? You've been unresponsive for a while." Malfoy nudged him slightly, attempting to draw his attention back to the present.

Tom made a noise of acknowledgement before mentally shaking the image of his little waiter— no, not his, he berated himself— from his mind.

But no matter how he tried, he could not. He could not just banish her from his thoughts. He knew a part of him, a rather embarrassingly large part of him enjoyed her company, her passion, her conversations— just her.

And there, tucked away in the recesses of his trunk, lay her damned book— a taunting reminder of her. The temptation to burn it, to obliterate any remnants of her from his life, danced on the edge of his thoughts. He had shoved away, out of sight if only just to save himself the fury, the anger, (the longing).

He wondered if she was going through the same turmoil as him. He hoped she was. She had no right to make him feel this way and get away with it unscathed.

But she was too enticing to give up. He did not know what it was about her. She was a muggle, an ordinary, plain girl working at a forgotten little cafe. Sure, she liked books, but so did a lot of other people. Yes, she was pretty, but so were a lot of other girls. But none could even come close to stirring his emotions as she did.

Perhaps it was the ease with which she conversed with him. Or the entirely too cheery smiles. Or her endearing knitted sweaters— though he secretly favoured the sundresses.

He, of course, knew what it was. He had tried to deny the idea to himself, but there was no escaping it. Tom had never been able to be unequivocally authentic with another individual before. From his early childhood, he refused to allow anyone close to him. He never lowered his walls and rejected anything that would yield a genuine connection. It was refreshing with her. He had no cause to uphold a curated facade.

Had she not been a muggle, he would entertain the thought of her bewitching him. He would have been convinced the girl put some spell on him or slipped a potion into his drink.

It was maddening.

She was maddening.

He sighed upon realising that he had spiralled again thinking of her. He needed to return the book, and maybe that would ease his mind. Perhaps once he was rid of her possession, she would not haunt him anymore. (Though he knew he was only trying to reassure himself with the last thought.)

As summer loomed around the corner, it felt both too distant and too imminent, mirroring the paradox of his tangled emotions.

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆

The sound of her laugh rang out before he could even close the door behind him. His head snapped up so fast it was a wonder he did not get whiplash. But there she was, his little waiter, chuckling delightfully as some boy spoke lowly from behind the counter. Chuckles escaped her lips, and she bit down on her lip in a futile attempt to stifle the laughter, her hands deftly at work preparing a drink. Despite her efforts, laughter bubbled forth once more, forcing her to set the cup down to avoid any potential spills.

An immediate surge of anger coursed through him. Who was this boy? What business did have with her? What right did he have to elicit such genuine laughter from her? (Most importantly, how dare she replace him?)

Tom swallowed the lump in his throat, attempting to gather himself into some semblance of a composed, unaffected man that he most definitely was not at that moment. With a loud, purposeful cough, he sought to catch her attention.

She spun around, the practised smile reserved for customers settling onto her face as she readied herself to serve him. However, the smile swiftly vanished the moment her doe-like eyes locked onto him. She looked like a deer caught in headlights as she stared at him, wide eyes roving over his face as if to confirm that he was really standing there, in front of her, and was not a figment of her imagination.

Because despite their last encounter, despite the anger, and the hurt she had felt, she kept hoping he would return. She kept imagining him standing there, with his ridiculously fancy scarf as he spewed out an apology. She had delved so deep into her fantasies involving him that now that he was actually there, she did not what to do or to say. Her tongue was tied, and her brain was fogged. What was she supposed to say?

It seemed he decided to grant her mercy and be the first to break the tense silence.

“Hello.”

“Hi.”

He shuffled closer, though his steps were unsure, unlike his usual confident strides that she was used to seeing. “I wished to return your book.” He declared yet made no move to reach into his bag for the said book. He allowed his eyes to drink in the sight of her, her eyes that always seemed to glisten, her hands that were always fidgeting, her little sundress that he was afraid would drive him to insanity, (and her lips that he wished he could press against his own just so he could find out what they felt like, tasted like.) He shoved the last one into a drawer in his mind and locked it away. He could not fantasise about her. She was a muggle. He could not stoop so low as to hold affections for a muggle girl.

“Did you enjoy it?” The girl asked tentatively as if afraid one wrong word would set him off, have him spitting more harsh words that would dig deep into her skin and remain there.

“As always.” He replied. Because every book she gave him held another meaning. She was a clever girl, choosing the ones that she knew would have him coming back with a strong debate prepared in his mind. They always seemed to stand on opposite sides of every argument that the books posed, ensuring that their discussion would get heated, exciting, and thrilling.

While Tom vehemently disagreed with her views, he found pleasure in the way her mind worked. He admired her quick-wittedness, her ability to counter every argument he posed. No one else had engaged him in such stimulating conversations. She was a breath of fresh air, a captivating force he wanted to inhale and never release. He yearned to suffocate in the essence of her being, to be consumed and to consume in return. He wanted to own her— that irrational desire to keep her for himself was always there in the deeper parts of his mind that he was scared to venture into.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.” She responded but he could detect the subtle undercurrent of uncertainty in her voice.

He hesitated. “May I have one black coffee?” He was extending an olive branch, and while it was not an outright apology, coming from Tom, it was a whole declaration.

“It’s five minutes until closing time.”

She would not be swayed so easily then.

Fine. Tom thought. He would make her come to her senses.

The boy who he had forgotten was still there suddenly came to stand next to him. Tom eyed him with disdain, his features curling into an unimpressed sneer, raising a lazy brow.

“I’ll help her close up, mate. You can leave now.”

“Daniel, that is not necessary.” She muttered, glancing between the two men nervously. Daniel? Tom clenched his jaw, enraged. In his absence, it seemed she had gotten on first-name basis with a boy. His mouth soured with the taste of betrayal at her blatant ignorance. How could she discard him so easily? Had she not suffered all these months at the mere thought of him? Had he been alone in his suffering?

“No,” Tom stated flatly. “You will leave.” He told the boy then turned to face his waiter. “We will talk.”

“Tom, I do not think—”

He cut her off with a hiss. “It was not a request.”

Daniel seemed wholly displeased. He opened his mouth to argue, but his girl beat him to it. “It’s okay, Daniel. I will see you some other time.”

“Whatever he has to tell you, surely he can say in front of me.”

She shook her head gently, trying to dissuade him. “It’s a matter between him and I. I would rather talk privately.”

Tom looked smug as he faced Daniel again, struggling to contain his smirk. He could see the indignation clear on the boy’s face as his eyes flickered dubiously between her and Tom. He knew the wizard was no ordinary acquaintance of her, he could feel the palpable tension in the air like a wolf.

Tom, of course, wished to push his buttons further, just to have the last word. “You heard her. Leave.”

Daniel scoffed. “I will see you tomorrow then.” He muttered and with one last long look, he squared his shoulders and left the café with as much dignity as his wounded pride could muster.

As the door shut with a final thud, they were left in pregnant silence, both unsure of the dynamics at play between them. The air in the café hung heavy with unspoken tension as if the silence itself had taken on a weight, pressing down on them both. The ticking of the clock on the wall seemed louder than usual, each second echoing in the quiet space.

She was the first to cave. "Well? You wished to talk." Gesturing towards him with a hand expectantly. "Talk."

Tom inhaled sharply, and for the first time in his life, he did not quite know what to say. How to proceed.

"Who is he?" The question tumbled from his lips before he could stop it.

She raised a brow. "Seriously? After how you walked out of here last time I would think your choice of words would be different."

"Different? I hardly think the question was unfair."

She huffed impatiently, discarding her apron as she turned from him to put everything away for the night. "Of course. How foolish of me to assume that you have no business inquiring about my life when we are not even friends." She chuckled bitterly. "You made the notion quite appalling if memory serves me right. You wish to know who is Daniel? For all you know, he could be my fiancee. Would it matter? No. Because you and I are hardly acquaintances."

An unfamiliar feeling began coiling in the pit of his stomach, and he suddenly felt sick. She briefly turned to fix him with a pointed glare and froze at the look on his face. The dancing flames of the candles seemed to mirror the flickering emotions in Tom's eyes—flames of irritation, discontent, and an unexpected pang of jealousy.

Tom could scarcely believe his fate. How was it that he— the most powerful wizard of his generation— had succumbed to the pathetic disease of— what was it? Desire? Lust? Infatuation? Such mundane urges were beneath him, he had no wish to pursue anyone or anything that was not remotely related to his quest for power. Yet there she was. In her infuriating fucking dress and those innocent eyes. Did she even know what sort of turmoil she had caused him?

All of a sudden he felt exhausted, defeated. His shoulders sunk visibly as he ran a hand through his hair. He would use a hundred of her sugar packets in his coffee if it meant she would just grace him with her bubbly smile again and just— just what? Leave him be? He did not want that. Treat him as if nothing had happened? Maybe. Release him from whatever enchantment she put him under? Yes.

"What do you want from me?" He asked at last, frustration clear in his voice.

She regarded him with disbelief as she rounded the counter to stand directly in front of him. "What do I want from you?" She repeated incredulously. "I want an apology! I want an explanation! I want—" she sighed, cutting herself off before she could finish the thought. "You cannot just show up here demanding things and ordering people around after how you treated me last time. If you wish to continue this conversation, you will apologise to me."

"You want me to say sorry?" He took a step towards her.

"Yes!"

"Fuck your apology."

Before she could register what was happening, Tom closed the minute distance between them and caved into his desire. He grabbed her face, fingers threading through her hair, and pressed his lips against hers. The kiss was not gentle; it was a collision of pent-up tension and bottled-up desires.

Tom's lips moved fervently against hers, pouring his frustration into the act. It was a silent declaration that transcended the boundaries of his complicated inner turmoil. Tom knew that. But he could not pull away from her— not after having tasted how her lips feel like.

Her hands, which had hovered hesitantly in the space between them, found their way to his shoulders, fingers gripping the fabric of his coat, pulling him closer.

She felt—tasted like God's favourite nectar, sweet and addictive and he knew he would never get enough of it. She might not have been a witch, but he was bewitched by her.

As they broke apart, breathless, the air between them hung heavy with the residue of their shared kiss. He dared not to ease his hold on her, only stared at her with darkened eyes, taking delight in the way her lips were bruised, and puffy, all because of him. But it was not enough. He needed to mark her for all to see.

He dove into the tender skin of her throat like a man starved, teeth sinking into her flesh with no warning, and a sick sort of satisfaction washed over him at the muffled moan that escaped her mouth. He sucked on the skin until he was sure there would be a purple mark blooming on the spot before running his tongue over the flesh to soothe the sting. He did not waste any second before moving to mark another spot.

"I do not even know your name." She managed to choke out in between her whimpers, hands moving of their own accord to tangle in his hair, and a particular tug had him growling deep in his throat.

"Tom." He whispered, pulling away from her neck only to return his lips to hers. "Say it. Say my name." He murmured in between the kisses, pushing her back until her back was pressed against the counter. He easily picked her up to place her on the surface, his fingers trailing along her thighs to her knees to nudge them apart so he could stand in between them.

"Tom." She breathed out in a daze, and he smirked in delight.

She was his. He had already branded her, and he would do much more to ensure she knew it was him she belonged to.

He leaned to brush his lips against the shell of her ear. "I hope you know there is no going back from this. From me." He whispered, fingers slipping under the strap of her dress and dragging it down her shoulder slowly. "You are my dirty little secret now. Mine."

She shuddered under the weight of his words but he was already snaking his hand around her throat as his lips found home on her own once again.

No going back.

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆

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tomriddleslovergirl · 2 months

Text

Tom Riddle x Reader x Mattheo Riddle Love Triangle Headcanons

Warnings/Includes: Tom & Mattheo are brothers, Fem!Reader, nsfw, toxicity, mentions of drugs and drinking, love triangle

There's no doubt that their both overprotective and possessive over you.

Tom likes to keep your company to himself when it comes to dates. He'll take you down to the chamber of secrets. You both have study dates where he tutors you on whatever class your having a problem with. He also likes to sit by the Black Lake with you.

Mattheo also likes to have dates with you at the Black Lake, and likes to swim in there rather then sitting around like Tom. He takes you to parties and likes to dance with you at them. You both also have study dates, but it's with you tutoring him instead because he was either high during the lesson, slept in, or he just wasn't paying attention during class.

Tom doesn't like to show that much physical affection in public, but might put his hand on your thigh when your both sitting down. But Mattheo loves having you sit down on his lap when you're both in the Slytherin common room, making out at parties, and usually has an arm around you when walking with you.

Mattheo loves seeing you wearing his shirts, whereas Tom likes to see you wearing his family ring.

Mattheo loves making Tom jealous and tries to get a rise out of him. Since they both share a dorm, Mattheo will purposefully be shirtless around Tom to show the scratch marks you left on his back after spending a night with you.

They'd both try to get you to admit that they're better than the other. Mattheo would fuck you hard, trying to get you to admit that Tom can't fuck you as good as he can, and Tom would focus on your pleasure, trying to get you to admit that Mattheo doesn't make you feel as good as he does.

They're both really jealous of each other. Mattheo is more sensitive out of the pair and may come to you for reassurance. But sometimes he may try to start a fight with you, flirting with another girl and then when you get jealous he'll get angry at you. Telling you that you have no right to be angry when you're fucking his brother. You'd got to Tom afterwards to vent and Tom wants to be angry at his brother for upsetting you - and he is -, but he also thinks about how you fighting with Mattheo can make you and Tom closer.

They both don't trust each other with you. Mattheo is scared that Tom will make you get the Dark Mark, and if Tom does, it might result in the biggest fight these two brothers have been in.

Between the drugs, partying, and drinking, Tom believes that Mattheo is a bad influence on you, that Mattheo won't take care of you like he can.

You'll have to choose between them both at some point, because their jealousy and paranoia over the other will get to them, and neither one of them will handle rejection from you well.

A/N: I haven't read the fic that Mattheo is from, so his parts were all based off of what information I could find online😭😭

#tom riddle x reader #tom riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo x you #mattheo riddle #harry potter x reader #x reader #tom riddle x fem!reader #mattheo riddle x fem!reader #harry potter #tom riddle x you #slytherin boys x reader

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pxgeturner · 1 month

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in which tommi overstimulates you and accidentally himself. not proofread. masterlist

— blurbs w gi ! 🎀

he wants to give you the best.

of him. of the world. of sex.

so he’s pounding into you as if he never will again. you’ve already have had four orgasms. two on his tongue where he savored your taste. and two more on his hand where he was obsessed on how your wet, plush walls felt around his fingers.

your head is against the headboard and it’s a delicious feeling each time it meets the wall. he's taken everything you have for the night, but you let him take, and give, what he needs.

he needs to give you more you deserve more. he has to keep going. show you all he can give. show you he's worthy. his cock twitches and you mewl—his jaw clenches, but he doesn't still. it's so much—too much. but not for you. you deserve more. you deserve the most. you clench around him, and he makes a choked sound as his vision blurs from tears.

"I'm gonna, I'm gonna-" he chokes on his words, you place a hand softly on his cheek. "go-gonna fill you up again, princess. gonna make you-make you" he should probably pull out, he's so sensitive, it's painful. but a kind of pain that tells him he's doing a good job, showing you the best he can do. showing you he's the best for you.

his fingers flit around your bud and he continues to thrust, determined. determined to make you prove no one else could make you feel as good as he can. determined to fill you up, make you his forever. determined to engrain your sweet pussy into his memory in case he ever loses you.

and then, in a moment of overwhelming heat, sweat and goddamn pleasure, the two of you reach the pinnacle together. you're panting and thighs are overly wet for some reason and tom's fingers are digging into the fat of your hips. you tilt your head up and he captures your lips in a hungry kiss.

as each of your orgasms subside, you lay there, him still inside you and holding you close. his dick twitches inside you with aftershocks and you both wince, him hissing in a breath.

"I- gotta stay in you, baby. let me stay in you. please. can't let any of it go to waste." he nuzzles your jaw with his nose.

"you're alright tommi, just breathe. just breathe." you shush him.

"I love you baby." he whispers against your skin. you put a hand in his hair and give him a little scratch.

#blurbs with gi ! 🎀#my writing #tom riddle #tom riddle smut #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x you #tom riddle x fem!reader #wizarding world #nsfw.giselle

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lostmyremembrall · 11 months

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Tom Riddle, a man of sophistication

Tom: I don't play a barbaric game like quidditch. I prefer chess, a more sophisticated-

Y/N: We all remember you projectile vomiting in our first flying lesson.

Tom Riddle Incorrect Quotes

@buckysmetalhand @eclecticpatrolroadlawyer @percy-the-hufflepuff

#tom riddle fluff #tom riddle x fem!reader #tom riddle x gn!reader #tom riddle oneshot #tom riddle #tmr #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle incorrect quotes #tom riddle imagines #lord voldemort #tom marvolo riddle #harry potter incorrect quotes #tom riddle fanfiction #harry potter #tom riddle x you #tom riddle au #tom riddle fic #harry potter fanfiction

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blueariel3-blog · 11 months

Text

Only Her

Pairing: Tom Riddle x Reader

A/N: Hello! This is the first fic I'm posting so let me know if you like it! I had so much fun writing it and I always have ideas in my head for stories, so I thought it was time I finally posted one lol.

The autumn breeze was chilling to the bone once you had been exposed to it. No amount of thick sweaters, fluffy scarves, or wool gloves could keep the bite out once the cold really settled in. Tom blew a warm breath into his hands ( as warm as he could manage in the current weather) and cursed the skies. He would not be trekking through this treacherous weather if it weren’t for the bubbly girl skipping in front of him.

She had asked him to accompany her to Hogsmeade this weekend and no matter how hard he tried to find the cold, unappealing mask he had perfectly molded, he knew there was no way he could turn her down. She was his opposite in every aspect and as much as it didn’t make sense, it also did.

He tried to keep his usual schemes far away from her innocent ears, though she was not oblivious to his extracurricular activities. He supposed one of the things he enjoyed most is that she never judged him or tried to talk him out of his plans. She simply took him for what he was and loved every part of him.

“Oh Tom, look! The snowflakes are so pretty!” She beamed as she caught one in her hand, shoving it toward the grumpy boy following behind her. He merely grimaced and attempted to at least look half-interested. She continued admiring the puffs of feather-light ice, paying no attention to what was in front of her, trusting her boyfriend to watch out for her completely.

Tom sometimes wondered how different things would be had she not been assigned his partner in charms and been forced to attend several study sessions together. If she hadn’t insisted on working together as much as possible and making sure their assignments had no errors, would he be further along in his plans?

He had been delaying releasing the basilisk for months out of fear for her. Only her, no one else he cared enough about to even consider their well-being. His closest friends had taken his distraction as an excuse to delay plans and stop attending meetings altogether. He knew he needed to make a move soon, but he also knew he could postpone it a little longer.

“You ought to be careful, the bridge is frozen and you could easily slip.” Despite the lack of warmth in his tone, his message was well-intended and he knew she understood that. She simply giggled and held out her hand to him, allowing his large hands to encompass her small ones and keep her balanced.

Although he sometimes found it tedious to always make sure She was in safe hands, he also secretly adored it. Sometimes he got tired of the constant anger and despise in his head, the blood on his hands, the nagging feeling of never being enough, and simply let thoughts of her overwhelm him.

“Look, the Three Broomsticks has their lights on!” Tom reigned in the urge to tell her that they always had their lights on, instead letting her indulge in the simplistic fun. She tugged him along hastily through the crowded streets and burst through the old wooden doors. Tom snarled at those who dared looked their way and lead the girl in his arms to the farthest table in the back.

He was not embarrassed to be seen with her by any means. However, he absolutely despised the nasty looks she received for being with him. It wasn’t his own feelings he was concerned with; hers, on the other hand, were as delicate as a blooming flower. Tom sometimes wondered if it was the mean comments or the prospect of being humiliated that made the tears roll down her porcelain face.

“What would you two like to drink?” Tom eyed the man who had come to take their order. He was tall and lanky, probably a graduate from last year or the one before who couldn’t find anything better to do with his time than smoke and drink. She batted her eyelashes and ordered two butter beers, unaware of the blush now coating the snob's cheeks.

She never meant to flirt, she was just a charismatic being. Tom never reprimanded her for it and never pointed it out, not wanting her to lose the joyous nature about herself for the sake of others’ stupidity.

“So, heard anything good lately?” Tome whipped his head back to her and narrowed his eyes. She loved to gossip.

“I heard Walburga and Orion are engaged.” He had come to enjoy passing secrets with her. Only her.

“They are not!’ She gasped. Tom nodded his head and smirked. “Are they not cousins?”

“Well, yes, but the pureblood families tend to interbreed anyways. Their children will probably bear all sorts of problems.” She giggled and slapped a hand over her mouth, tho the tint to her cheeks never left.

He caught himself almost smiling but quickly scowled as the man set their drinks down in front of them. He gave her an extra long pause, telling her to call out if she needed anything, and slowly walked away from the table.

She took a long sip of her drink, sighing happily and looking at Tom expectantly. Truth be told, he hated the damn drink. But he indulged her in tasting it every time and then letting her have the rest. He always ended up dragging her back to the castle by the end of the day but he couldn’t deny her this simple pleasure.

He grasped the glass and took a slow sip, swishing the amber liquid around in his mouth before swallowing. Tom hated the grime that coated his teeth every time he drank something sugary and made a mental note to brush his teeth as soon as he returned to his dorm.

Once her drink was gone and Tom had taken three nanoscopic sips of his, she downed his as well. A glassy film covered her eyes and she began laughing uncontrollably, doubling over and clutching her stomach as the drink coursed through her.

A rough hand on his shoulder brought Tom out of his watchful stare. Abraxas Malfoy stood next to him, a sort of excitement in his eyes as he beheld the giggling girl in front of him. Tom shook his disgusting hand off his shoulder and raised his eyebrows at his right-hand man.

“Hello, you two! Well, don’t you look as lovely as ever!” She giggled again.

“Why thank you, Abraxas!”

“I was actually referring to our good friend Tommy here, but you look lovely as well.” A smirk adorned Abraxas face as she laughed even harder. If Abraxas had not been one of his most trusted followers then he would have obliviated him. He still might.

“He does look quite lovely.” Tom simply rolled his eyes and motioned for the blonde boy to tell him whatever it was he interrupted their night for.

“I just came to wish you both a good night and check-in.” The glint in his eyes told a different story and Tom almost pulled him into the alleyway to explain. But that would mean leaving her alone, and that was something he would never do.

“Thank you, Abraxas. Oh! Are you excited about the quidditch game tomorrow?” Although she came from the yellow house, she adorned a different color for every game. She just liked to witness the excitement of someone winning.

“I am, I hope you’ll be in green and black tomorrow?” He gave her a lazy grin as she nodded her head eagerly. She would not remember agreeing to that tomorrow and Abraxas would have quite the time teasing her when he sees her decked in blue instead.

“Darling, did you want to go to the bookstore before the end of the night?” The light was dimming outside, but the shops were far from closing. With darkness came cold though, and Tom would not have her out in weather worse than this.

“Oh, of course! I thought we could pick up a few to read before bed?” Abraxas snickered but quickly stopped once he saw the sharp look Tom diverted at him. Instead of answering, he simply shrugged his coat on and offered her a hand. He made sure her scarf was wrapped tight around her neck and her coat buttoned properly to seal in any remaining warmth.

He held her hand tightly and led her down the snowy street. The small bookstore came into view and he quickly pulled them in to fight off the cold, leading her down to the section she adored the most.

Tom watched as her fingers skimmed the old parchments as she lazily looked for a few to bring home. He felt bad the first few times they came because he couldn’t afford to buy her what she wanted, but she insisted she had enough money for the both of them. After many disagreements (they never argued because he couldn’t stand to make her upset), he finally accepted that she would buy them and he would read them to her.

“I want this one, please.” Tom grabbed the rather thin book off the shelf and held it out for her to tuck in her arms.

“Just one darling? We’ll go through that pretty quickly, maybe you should pick another one as well.” She hummed in agreement and pointed to three more books. He rolled his eyes humorously and pulled them from the shelf.

With the books in hand, she set them on the counter and bounced on her toes as the clerk rang them up. She handed them the payment and Tom took the wrapped parcels along with her hand and made for the door.

The walk back to the castle always felt longer, though he knew it wasn’t. Perhaps it was the impending time to sit by the fire with her curled into his side or the way her scent would wash over him and lull him to sleep. It could have been the sleep-filled nights he only seemed to find wrapped around her or the quiet the castle offered only at night.

“Tom?” He hummed and turned to her. She had a contemplative look on her face.

“Do you think you’ll ever get tired of me?” He stopped in his tracks, pulling her back when she attempted to carry on walking. His heart beat a thousand times faster than normal and if he thought about her words too long, he was sure it would beat out of his chest.

He carefully placed one hand under her chin, tilting those glassy eyes to look directly into his. His sharp features made him intimidating to most people, but she was never afraid of the death that could shine in his eyes.

“Why are you asking me that darling? Has someone said something?” Merlin forbid someone else had made her think this way. They would be dead within the hour.

She shook her head quickly, long strands of hair falling in her eyes. She pushed them back with one hand and huffed, looking at the ground while she played with his fingers.

“No, I was just thinking. I know I’m very different from you and your friends, and sometimes I just wonder…well…if I’m too different.”

Tom would do anything to wipe the sorrow from her voice. He forced himself to take steadying breaths. The wrapped books thumped against the snow-packed ground as he freed both of his hands to grasp either side of her face.

“Darling, I will not get tired of you. I enjoy the differences between us. I know I am not capable of the extent of feelings you have for me, but one day I hope to learn to feel those things.” He placed one of her hands against his beating heart, letting her feel how tilted his world had suddenly become.

“Are you sure?” She batted those long, beautiful eyelashes up at him.

“I am quite sure.” She nodded once, the smile taking on her face again as if she hadn’t just torn his world apart and put it back together in the span of two minutes. She grabbed the books from the ground and tucked them under one arm, wrapping the other around his and pulling him quickly towards the castle.

There was no one else he would ever consider confessing his feelings for, good or bad. No one else could destroy him if they ever decided they were tired of him. No one else held his heart as she did. Only her. Only ever her.

#tom riddle #hufflepuff #harry potter #tom riddle fluff #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle fans #hufflepuff!reader #tom marvolo riddle #tom riddle x fem!reader

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cauliflowertree · 1 year

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tom riddle—a certain romance.

.ೃ࿐ྂ tom riddle x fem!reader

summary: tom provides a distraction when your period arrives.

word count: 1.1k

fanfic no. 024

tom wasn’t used to being stood up. he’d had no chance to harbour a dislike for the act because it had never happened until now—not that he could recollect anyway. but now that it had, he hated it.

it was basic manners to turn up to something you’d organised, or at least let him know sufficiently in advance if you weren’t able to attend. he felt cheated. and not that he was particularly concerned with his reputation at hogwarts (but he was), he couldn’t let this go.

currently, unbeknownst to tom riddle, you were hauled up in your dormitory, cradling your stomach, hoping that this change of position would relieve some pain. the water on your bedside had long been empty, and the food you’d taken from breakfast was hardening. on the brink of tears, you slipped a blanket over your shoulders and stared at the ground, wishing it would swallow you whole.

tom, on the other hand, was storming through the castle with a stone cold face, lips pursed and hands in his pockets. it wasn’t unusual for tom to strut through the halls like this, but something about his blank stare caused some alarm with the younger students.

“watch out!” a second year hissed, pulling his friend back by the collar as tom flew past.

he barely noticed.

there was sharp knock at your door, and at first you thought someone must’ve gotten the wrong dorm, but it persisted despite you not answering. stomping over to the door, you whipped it open before another knock could disturb the little peace you had left.

“what?!” you seethed, only recognising the person in your doorway afterwards. “oh, tom. what are you doing here?” you asked.

tom screwed his eyebrows together. surely it was obvious what he was doing at your door. he had waited for you in the library for nearly forty-five minutes—he must have looked like an utter fool. how he hated to be humiliated.

“i-”

“oh! oh, tom, i’m so sorry. i completely forgot,” you threw your hands over your mouth guiltily.

tom looked past you and into your room, noticing the strewn sheets, blankets, stale food and tipped over glass on your bedside. then he looked back at you, expression softening slightly.

“are you unwell?” he questioned you.

“in a matter of speaking, aunt flo has come to visit,” you said delicately.

tom made no answer, only continued staring as if asking you to elaborate further to relieve his confusion.

“that time of the month, tom.”

he shifted. “oh.”

you nodded, leaning against your doorframe. the pain had subsided momentarily in tom’s presence, but now that the excitement had died down, it was coming back full force.

tom said nothing, but his eyes poured into yours, and suddenly his anger had vanished and in its place was a much softer emotion he didn’t care to name. he brushed past you into your room, ignoring the questions you threw his way. retrieving your glass and plate of food, he exited your dorm and placed them on a nearby table.

he was back in an instant, pressing his hand to your lower back and silently ushering you back into your own room. he stopped in front of your bed, and you sat down. the next moment he was gone, and you weren’t aware of how long he’d been away, still trying to understand what he was doing and whether he was coming back or if that was the end of your odd exchange.

but before you knew it, he had returned with a full glass of water and a bowl of fruit. he could barely believe it himself. he didn’t care to look after people other than himself, it wasn’t in his nature, nor in his interest. and he seldom did things that weren’t in his interest.

but he found himself in the hogwarts kitchen arranging fruit in a bowl and asking specially for blackberries because he’d seen you eat them frequently.

“thank you,” you whispered, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

he looked down to you, his gaze sliding down his sharp face and onto yours. he didn’t speak much, not unless he deemed it necessary, and sometimes you appreciated this.

“you’re welcome,” he replied, sitting in the chair in the corner of your room, his ankle resting on his knee and hand gracing over his lips as his elbow rested on the arm of the chair.

it was as if he was examining you. you tried not to wince or react to the pain in your stomach for as long as you could, but eventually you couldn’t help it. tom didn’t move a muscle as he watched you.

“do you like to read?” he asked finally, cutting the tension in half.

“yes,” you answered, “my books are over there if you’d like to have a look.”

tom’s eyes flickered to where you had pointed, and he could see several titles from where he was sitting. in one swift movement he got up from the chair, slipped his hands in his pockets and stepped over to your shelf.

he selected a novel from your collection and returned to the chair.

“you can sit over here, you know.”

tom turned, looking at the space next to you on the bed. “very well.”

the mattress dipped with his weight, and you tried to control your pulse from racing just by him being so near. but his scent was intoxicating—he smelled expensive—and his thigh was almost touching yours. it was the perfect distraction from the pain, though you wouldn’t have guessed such a thing.

tom, too felt nervous, and he didn’t like to feel this way. but he suspected that this type of nervousness wouldn’t be as bothersome as the rest. he pushed the tremble in his voice down and opened the first page of ‘a room with a view’.

his deep voice was calming, diverting, too. though lucy honeychurh and george emerson’s story was also, over time his body had inched closer to yours subconsciously, and now you were touching like it was the most normal thing in the world. after a while, you’d moved back on the bed, head resting against your pillows and legs curled up into you. tom had been resistant at first to make himself comfortable, but had done as you asked and situated himself against your headboard.

bravery had taken hold of you nearly an hour into the reading session, and you dared to rest your head against tom’s shoulder. he didn’t stop reading, he didn’t move, but you could feel him stiffen ever so slightly, and then let go.

after a while, he even ventured to twist his pinky finger around yours, forcing himself to awkwardly turn the pages of the book one-handed—though neither of you were bothered about this.

it was quiet, it was intimate and private, and the moment was yours. and though it was only george and lucy who had shared an embrace, you hoped that it wouldn’t be too long before you and tom would share one of your own.

🏷 @imabee-oralizard @mad-elia @velvetcloxds @garfieldsladybird @flesh--amnesiac

#tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x you #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle x fem!reader #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle fic #tom riddle fluff #tom riddle fanfiction #tom riddle oneshot #tom riddle era

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mystinkylefttoe26 · 17 days

Text

A proposition - Tom Riddle

cw : blowjob, kissing, mentions of smoking, virgin!tom

summary : after head boy Tom catches you sneaking around you offer him a proposition…

You were currently tiptoeing your way through the dark corridors of Hogwarts.

You wanted to walk to the astronomy tower for a quick smoke.

Your ripped out of your thoughts by an ice cold hand on your shoulder

“What are you doing here ?”

“-fuck” the voice of Tom riddle, Slytherin head boy.

“Indeed, fuck, but I won’t ask again what are you doing here,at this time ?”

You turn around and smile sheepishly

“I forgot my wallet at the astronomy tower and I was just about to go get it”

“Aha” Tom responds with a raised eyebrow “well then I’ll accompany to go retrieve it”

Fuck you groan in your head, obviously there wasn’t your wallet waiting at the top of the astronomy tower stairs.

To be honest if it were anybody else Tom would’ve subtracted a couple of points and sent them back to there.

But with you it was different he had always found quite…attractive.

So he decided to just stay with you a little while longer.

You and Tom were currently walking towards the astronomy tower in silence.

‘Fuck i gotta think of something’

You suddenly stop and turn to tom

“So…tom..how’s it going ?”

“Good, but I’d rather just get this over with”

You scoff and roll your eyes ‘thanks for nothing’.

You’re starting to walk up the stairs and the panic starts getting more intense.

You turn around to Tom before blurting out

“I-was-lying-there’s-no-wallet-just-wanted-to-smoke”

“What ?” Tom asks looking at you surprised

“I was lying there’s no wallet, I just wanted to go out for a smoke…”

You say while looking while smiling apologizingly at Tom.

“Ok I mean I’ll have to report you for lying and subtract points…” Tom mutters

“No Tom please” you try to plead with him.

“I’m sorry but it’s the procedure” Tom says strictly.

“No come on I’ll do everything you want me to” you respond while looking up at him seductively hoping he catches the hint.

“I’m sorry but-“ Tom tries to say before you cut him off.

“I’ll blow you one”

Tom chokes on a cough

“W-what ?” Tom asks while looking at you with a red face.

“You know a blowjob” you say while moving closer to him and running your hand up and down his chest seductively.

“Uhm I uh” Tom stutters, clearly affected by your sudden moving closer to him.

And that’s when it clicks…he’s a…virgin…

“Tommy tell me something” you ask still not having taken your hands off his surprisingly sculpted chest “have you ever gotten one before ?”

“I-I… uh of course” Tom lies…

“Really mhm, I don’t think I believe you…”

“You know it’d be really bad for your reputation if somebody found out that mister riddle is still a…virgin” you say teasingly.

Tom just gulps audibly his Addams apple bobbing while doing so.

“So you know cause I’m a nice girl, I’ll make a proposition. I’ll give you a blowjob and you’ll forget all about your reporting stuff’s shit alright ?”

To be honest you’d be surprised if Tom could even think once you’d be done with him.

Tom stays silently clearly still in Schock before he nods slowly.

“Ok, perfect come on”

You push him against the wall, before pressing your body against him and whispering seductively.

“You ever kissed somebody ?”

“Y-yes” Tom replies quickly

“Mhmm that’s good” you say before pressing a quick kiss onto his neck and moving upwards.

You kiss him softly at first, before Tom grips the back of your neck and presses you more onto him

You slip your tongue inside his mouth and starting making out with him.

To be fair Tom was a surprisingly good kisser.

You move your hand down from his chest towards the bulge in his pants before starting to palm him.

And then Tom fucking whimpers…

‘Fuck Tom perfect, mysterious boy is out here whimpering from a little palming’.

You quickly unbuckle his belt before freeing his erection from his pants and sliding down to your knees.

You spit into your palm before stroking his length a couple times, Tom letting out a couple low groans at this.

You start kitten licking his dripping tip before fully taking the tip into your mouth and well starting to suck.

“Fuck, feels so much better than imagined..” Tom groans.

You pull away from his cock “you imagined me blowing you ?” You giggle.

“W-what I uh”

Before Tom can fully respond your back to working on his cock

Your deep throating him now and you can tell he won’t last long…

Tom moaning whining and panting like a pathetic mess just from a blowjob…

You imagined what he’d sound like when your doing more intimate stuff…

Maybe you should safe that question for another time you’re caught sneaking out.

“F-fuck I’m gonna cum hmm”

Tom whines while pushing your face further down and shooting ropes of hot sticky cum down your awaiting throat.

You pull away before swallowing and sticking your tongue out to show Tom.

“Fuck that was uhm amazing” Tom mutters still a bit dazed.

You just giggle softly while tucking his member back into his pants.

“I’ll give you extra points”

Banners by @benkeibear and @xxbimbobunnyxx

#tom riddle x reader #tom riddle #tom marvolo riddle #tom riddle x fem!reader #fem!reader #harry potter #slytherin boys

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lovergirlanna · 2 months

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Professor Riddle x Professor Fem! Reader

He looks up from his newspaper, his piercing blue eyes appraising you, a cold stern expression on his face.

“good afternoon professor”

He said. His voice firm and confident.

teaser;

You and professor Tom Riddle had grown to be close colleagues over the course of last year. The defence against the dark arts teacher seemed to have a liking towards you. However with your attempts to stay in touch over summer break by sending him letters he hadn’t replied to a single one.

And now with the new school year starting you find yourself struggling to find a seat on the Hogwarts express until you hear a solitary voice. “Good afternoon professor”.

Cruelty and guilty

part one | coming soon …

You belong to me

part two | coming soon …

Vaguely inspired by this post on TikTok

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ms-fade · 2 years

Text

Tom riddle 18+ Drabble- Gryffindor Fem!reader.

“That’s a good girl.”

His cock slammed in and out of you as his fingers hit the right spot on your neck to make u loss air, his cock hit the right spot from in side of you. Your body laid back onto the table in the library as your legs wrapped around his waist. The table creaked with each thrust and a sob of please leaving your lips. “You my little slut huh?” You could hear his smirk and didn’t even bother opening your eyes, “Taking my cock in the library and not caring about your voice being heard.” He’d chuckle as he put on of his arms around your waist and pulled you closer to his body making you take more of his cock. “I thought you were supposed to be a gryffindor goody two-shoes?” You’d open your teary eyes just a bit and place your hands on his chest. “I-” you’re voice breaking and you couldn’t form any words and them only coming out as moans. “Can’t form the words darling? That’s fine, just take my cock and let me hear you while I fuck your brains out. Let them all know who’s slut you are.” You didn’t think he would get any rougher but when he slammed back into you a scream left your lips.

“I’ll have to keep this pussy for myself, it clinches each time I speak.” You let out a whimper as enjoying the thought and he stuck a finger in your mouth. “Like that baby. Me owning this hole of yours?” You nodded and letting your head fall back and back arch for him.

“Don’t worry, I’ll fuck you as much as you’d like.”

#harry potter #Harry Potter x reader #tom riddle #tom riddle x reader #Tom riddle smut #Tom riddle x gryffindor reader #gryffindor reader #Tom riddle x reader smut #tom riddle x fem!reader #Tom riddle Drabble #drabble

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sallowsswan · 17 days

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Battlefield | Tom Riddle Imagine

Inspired by the song Battlefield by Jordin Sparks. To clear things up, this is set in an AU where Voldemort has two sons Tom and Mattheo Riddle.

Imagine this is the look on Tom's face when he finds out his father has sent his death eaters after you after you had another petty fight where you stormed off towards Hogsmeade on your own.

You're a muggle-born and have been dating Tom for a little over a year now. Everything his father has told him to despise, yet for Tom you were everything he needed. Your relationship isn't perfect, with you both having been raised with different beliefs, but the love you share slowly helps Tom come to see things more clearly.

Now he, his younger brother and their friends are on a mission to free you from the clutches of his father, The Dark Lord himself. Tom realizes this love is worth fighting for and is ready to step up to protect you at all costs. Even if it means defying his father.

#harry potter #slytherin boys #tom riddle #slytherin imagine #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle x reader #harry potter imagine #tom riddle x you #tom riddle x fem!reader

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natti-ice · 2 months

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Tom Riddle NSFW Alphabet.

Warnings: 18+ mdni, under the cut are NSFW headcanons

Author’s note: this is a reupload, I wrote this a while ago!

A = Aftercare (what they're like after sex)

Tom can be quite rough during sex, he has a lot of aggression that releases during sex so he makes sure you're okay afterward. He doesn't mean to hurt you. He cleans you up after making a mess, he leaves kisses on all the areas he was the roughest(your ass mostly, he's really into spanking). He isn't always the most affectionate person in public but behind closed doors, he'll hold you and ask if you're okay.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner's)

He knows he is attractive and is very confident in himself. He has toned muscles but isn't bulky, he likes his forearms and his hands the most. He loves using his hands, he likes watching you squirm. He is definitely a tit man, but he adores your ass. A nonsexual part he loves is your neck, kissing and leaving hickeys are his foreplay.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Creampies. He loves finishing inside of you, it feels like he's marking his territory you're his. But he does switch it up sometimes, facials are also a favorite of his. He likes when you're on your knees in front of him, he likes feeling dominant.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Before you got together he used to watch you from afar, not on some Joe Goldberg shit though. He was very fascinated with you from the moment he saw you, he needed to know more about you. You aroused him just by breathing, he often thought about what it would be like to fuck you, all the things he would do to your body.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they're doing?)

Tom is quite experienced, he had many sexual encounters before meeting you but none of them had feelings involved. When you got together he had to learn how to incorporate intimacy during sex. He immediately knew all the right places to touch you, learning your body was the easiest thing to do.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He's more of a missionary man but where you have your ass hanging off the bed and he's fucking you while standing, it gives him more control. He likes watching the pleasure on your face, he loves turning you into a complete wreck. Also, he loves how your tits bounce when he thrusts inside of you.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Tom's a pretty serious person so he isn't very humorous but he will chuckle when you look pathetic under his touch.

H = Hair (how well-groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He takes a lot of pride in his looks and hygiene, he keeps everything neatly trimmed.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

At the beginning of the relationship, it was purely for sex. He wasn't too worried about romance he just wanted to get his rocks off. But as he started to fall for you he incorporated more romantic gestures. Like foreplay, going on dates, etc. In the moment he tries his best to make sure that you're enjoying yourself, he won't do anything you aren't comfortable with.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He has always been an active masturbater, even though he can have you whenever he wants he still masturbates. He thinks about all the times he's fucked you, all the places he's fucked you, the way you melt under him, just thinking about you makes him hard.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

He has a few different kinks, he likes degradation, hair pulling, spanking, public sex, light bondage, and edging (he loves to hear you beg).

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Honestly, he'll fuck you anywhere and in front of everyone, he loves showing off what's his. Public bathrooms are always pretty accessible when you're feeling horny in public. At home, he likes taking you on the floor, the shower, the kitchen counter, and literally every room in the house.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

You don't have to do much to arouse Tom, wearing a more revealing top can turn him on. Teasing him or making him upset makes him very horny, getting under his skin is the best way to get him into bed.

N = No (something they wouldn't do, turn offs)

Tom is pretty open to most things but he really does like to stick to the normal things he likes. I don't think he would like being a sub though unless it was something you really wanted(plus I think he'd be afraid that he would like it.)

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Tom doesn't mind blowjobs(he prefers you to deepthroat him) he loves to eat you out. He's very skilled with his tongue, he knows the right pressure to put on your clit, fingering is also a must, and he loves hearing you moan.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

When you both first start having sex it's pretty slow and gentle, he likes working you into it. As time goes on, he gets pretty fast and rough. Being rough is a big turn-on for him, throwing you around in the bed a little bit really pushes him to the edge.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He is always up for a quickie, especially since he knows how needy you can be. No matter if it's a quickie or not, you're having sex. Every. Day. He's also pretty busy sometimes so it helps him relieve stress.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

As I said before, he's down to try anything that you want to do even though he likes to stick to what he knows he likes. Sometimes if he's feeling spontaneous he'll suggest you try something new.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

There's a two-round minimum every time you have sex. He can last up to 30 minutes a round, he's trained himself to last longer to please you.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He definitely has a vibrator he uses on you when he really wants to see you get worked up. You know as soon as you see it, you're getting edged. Having control of your orgasm brings him pleasure.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

THE BIGGEST TEASE! Like I said he's really into edging/orgasm denial, making you beg for it by teasing your pussy with his dick, even in public he'll whisper in your ear the filthiest things and watch you try to stay calm.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

When he's fucking you he can be pretty loud, he moans when he's deep inside of you. He's a big dirty talker, he calls you all sorts of names like slut, whore, bunny, etc. Not everything he says is degrading though, he loves telling you how good you feel.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He's secretly always wanted to have a threesome but knows he would get too jealous and ruin it for you so he never says anything.

X = X-ray (let's see what's going on under those clothes)

He definitely has good length and girth, it's not too big to the point it hurts but it's big enough to stretch you out. For the rest of his body, he's very fit but not overly muscular. He's never really understood the desire to have big muscles.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

This man's sex drive is crazy. He doesn't really know how to deal with his emotions properly so it all goes into his sex drive.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

Sex does relax him but unless you're fucking at night he won't fall asleep. After you two finish he'll cuddle with you until you fall asleep, sometimes it takes longer for him to go to sleep because he always has something on his mind.

#natti’s 18+#tom riddle x you #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x reader smut #tom riddle smut #tom riddle headcanon #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle x fem!reader #tom riddle fanfiction

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cardansriddle · 1 year

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Teach Me (part 2) - (tom riddle x fem!reader)

part 1

warnings: smut. public sex. unpretected sex. not proofread bc i'm living on the edge today.

A/N: okay we all know i'm shit at writing smut so feel free to judge. i am not at all satisfied with how this turned out but oh well. you ask and i shall deliver.

buymeacoffee <3

༻♛༺

You were on edge.

With every step you took in the castle grounds, with every turn around a corridor, you expected to hear the not-so-hushed whispers and the not-so-subtle dirty glances thrown at you for your indecent behaviour.

But they never came.

You were growing paranoid with every passing day, and you had convinced yourself that the Slytherin boy who had seen you and Tom in a compromising position was just waiting for the ideal moment to blast the bomb and bring on your ruination.

You glanced at your friend sitting next to you, on the seat that you usually reserved for Tom, but now that you were trying to avoid him, you had forced your friend to sit near you.

"Heard anything interesting lately?" You subtly questioned, knowing she could never resist the temptation of gossip. She smiled mischievously and leaned forwards so that her words would not be heard by unwelcome ears.

"Walburga Black was caught in a broom closet..." She took a dramatic pause and widened her eyes. "With her cousin!" She whisper-yelled, and you were quite sure the students sitting in front of you tensed and shared a curious glance with each other at the new piece of gossip.

Despite your inner disgust, you only chuckled weakly and your eyes strayed around the room in search of—

Tom was staring at you. There was no particular emotion displayed on his face, but you could tell he was displeased. You quickly turned around to face your desk in front of you, willing your heart to slow to a steady rhythm. You cursed the way he could affect you just with his stare.

"Are you alright? You look flushed."

You smiled at your friend. "It's just hot in the room. I am fine."

Yet all throughout the class, you were uncomfortably aware of his gaze at the back of your head.

So when the professor dismissed you, you rushed to collect your things and sprung to your feet to make your swift escape. You were almost out the door when a hand grabbed your arm and pulled hard enough to have you crashing into someone's chest.

You were about to yell at whoever had pulled back, but when you lifted your gaze from the green-silver tie wrapped around the culprit's neck, you could not find the words.

Tom was staring down at you with a raised brow as if daring you to utter a word. "Come with me." And before you could object, he was dragging you with him, hand tight around your arm.

"Tom! Let me go." You whisper-yelled, throwing glances behind your back to see if students had caught on to the scene. But fortunately, they were blissfully unaware. "Someone might see us. Let me go!" You attempted once again, but Tom only shot you a dark glare.

When he made a sharp turn to the left, you realised you were in one of the abandoned hallways. "Tom Riddle, unhand me this instant!" You raised your voice before tugging your arm out of his grip, and he looked at you in mild bewilderment.

"You have been avoiding me." He broke the pregnant silence, brown eyes piercing right through you with their intensity.

You threw your hands in the air in frustration. "Are we seriously doing this here? Right now?"

He cocked his head to the side in interest as he watched your antics. When his gaze did not relent, you sighed and decided to just go out with it.

"What do you not understand? I am quite sure you are aware that if the boy ever decides to open his mouth, I will be ruined."

He hummed, those intoxicating dark eyes still watching you. "That still does not explain why you have been running away from me."

"Are you serious? I am mad at you, Tom! For the smartest person in this school, you are pretty damn idiotic to me—" He frowned at that, "—And you stood there and did nothing when he witnessed us! You could have spoken to him and convinced him not to say anything, yet all you—"

"I obliviated him."

"What?"

"After you left, I obliviated him." He repeated as if he was stating the obvious.

You backed away, unsure how to proceed with this information.

"I thought you would figure it out." He added with his brows pinched together. You gave him an incredulous look, silently asking how in the world you could figure that out magically.

"You are horrible," You muttered.

He rose a single brow, trying to hide his amusement, and in a mock inquisitive tone, he proceeded to ask, "Oh, I am?"

"Yes! It has been hell for me while you were allowing me to live in this miserable state." With an angry huff, you pushed him on the chest with all your might. He barely even moved from your attack, and if anything he was fully smirking now, which aggravated you even more. "I hate you!"

As you were about to push him once again, he managed to grab a hold of your wrists and held them against his chest, causing you to stumble straight into him. You looked up at him from your position, and your breath hitched in your throat at the nonexistent proximity left between you. His eyes were a shade darker, just like they were on that day when he had kissed you. You could only assume it was desire pooling in his irises, drowning the warm brown shade in its wake. You licked your lips almost subconsciously, and his gaze dropped to watch the action.

"Tom?" You spoke hesitantly, your voice small and breathy.

"Do you wish for me to teach you more? Hm?" He whispered hoarsely, breath fanning against your mouth and you could not help but lean closer. "Do you wish me to teach you how to pleasure a man?" He gulped, and you were transfixed as you watched him close his eyes as if he was imagining every possible scenario of you doing those things to him. When his eyes reopened, they were burning with an emotion that made your knees tremble. "Or perhaps I could show you all the ways a woman could be pleasured?" His hand rose to caress the skin of your cheek. You nodded, not being able to form any coherent words with the obscene way he was speaking.

He tutted, displeased. "I need to hear you say it."

"Please, Tom. Yes. Please."

Your desperate plea was all he needed before he brought his lips down to connect with yours in a heated kiss. Your mind began to feel dizzy as he moved his lips against yours, and you quickly freed your hands from his hold in order to weave them behind his neck.

He began pushing you back until you felt your back hit the cool texture of the wall, and he pressed into you desperately.

"Someone could see us," Came your strangled whisper when his mouth travelled to the spot where your jaw met your neck, but he did not answer you as he bit into the delicate skin, marking it with his teeth. Your hands grabbed a hold of his hair and tugged at it to yank his lips from your neck, and he let out a low groan of your name at the action.

"Let them see." He murmured before reconnecting his lips with yours. "Let them witness how I ruin you for everyone else, so they know you are only for me."

You whimpered at Tom's words. You had never felt such desire in your life. Never had your blood burned so desperately for someone. You wanted all of him. You wanted him to consume you whole.

Tom pulled at your school robe, doing a quick work of undoing it until it fell and pooled on the floor.

His grip on your waist tightened as he ground the constricting material of his pants between your legs, and you gasped at the feeling of his hardness pressed against you. "Tom, please." You begged once again, all shame and embarrassment gone from your body and replaced with only raw need.

Tom's hand left your waist and began travelling lower. He bunched up your skirt, and you whined when the tips of his fingers teased the skin of your inner thigh. You felt him smirk against your lips at the effect he was having on you. He skimmed his knuckles against your closed heat, causing you to throw your head back against the wall and flutter your eyes shut. "Stop teasing me."

"You are so wet for me and I have barely even touched you," He said as he pushed your underwear to the side and finally touched you where you needed him the most. A moan left your lips at the feeling of his fingers sliding against you, and you wondered not for the first time if Tom would be your undoing. You were overwhelmed with pleasure, and you felt him breathe faster against the skin of your throat as if he was enjoying this almost as much as you were.

His fingers made a mess of you, and you were chanting his name like a prayer, uncaring of the possibility that someone could discover you.

"I need you."

Your hands dropped to his pants, and you hastily attempted to undo them, only for Tom to pause his ministrations with a displeased hum. "Greedy girl." You watched, utterly transfixed as rose his fingers and put them in his mouth as if to savour your taste. Your cheeks burned at the sight, and you swore you had never seen anything so obscene in your entire existence.

"Beg for it."

You almost choked. "What?"

"You want me? Then you will beg for me."

You shuddered at the commanding tone, and something about it made you even more desperate. Desperate to please him.

"Please." You pleaded. "Please, Tom."

He got rid of his pants while you begged with no shame, but he did not seem entirely satisfied with your cries. "What do you want? Say it." He demanded, and you felt him tease you right where you needed him, yet he held back, not quite pushing inside you.

"I want you to ruin me." You breathed out, and you hoped he would not ask you to say anything else because you were not sure if your brain would be able to string up a sentence together. The sensation of him rubbing against you was enough to clog your brain, and you forgot all else except him.

He tightened his grip on your hip, and you briefly wondered if he would leave a mark. "Good girl." Is all he muttered before pushing forwards and sliding into you torturously slowly until he filled you to the brim.

It was painful. But in that pain, there was a particular type of pleasure you had never experienced before. You were convinced you would descend into madness at the feeling of him filling you completely. You could not tell where you began and he ended, it was as if you were one.

Tom dropped his head into the crook of your shoulder, groaning your name in a way that almost pushed you over the edge. "Tell me I can move."

"Yes. Please, move."

At your plea, he exhaled and rose his head so he could watch your face instead as he drew back. You gulped, hand tugging at the nape of his neck because he was already pushing back inside of you. You felt so full of him, eyes rolling into the back of your head as you relished in the euphoria that washed over your body every time he rolled his hips against yours.

This was a sin. The aching pleasure in your body had to be a sin. You never thought it was possible to feel the way you did at that moment, and you swore you would sin for the rest of your life and burn for it if it meant you could relive this moment over and over again.

When you opened your eyes, Tom's gaze snapped up from where he had been watching your hips move against his and there is a darkness in his eyes, as if he was ready to devour you whole.

"You feel so good. All for me. Only for me."

The lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin echoed in the hallway, and you quickly pulled him closer so you could connect your lips with his in a kiss. His grip on your thigh tightened at the action, to the point where you were sure there would be marks in the shape of his fingers the next day, but the thought only spurred your pleasure. As if that was not enough, he pulled away from your lips to latch his mouth on your throat, biting, sucking, and kissing until you knew that the skin of your neck would look like a warzone.

"Tom...I—I'm..."

He exhaled sharply and quickened the pace of his hips. "I know, I know."

Your body was getting caught on fire with his every hard thrust, and you felt yourself approaching your high, the fire burning brighter and brighter in your body until—

"Tom..." You moaned as you felt yourself peak, and your eyes shut in ecstasy.

He continued to thrust into you, his movements becoming sloppier and sloppier, chasing his own relief. He gasped your name into your mouth, and you felt him spill himself inside you, reaching his high.

Your head dropped against his chest, your body limply melting in his hold from exhaustion. Both of you panted heavily, trying to regain your composures, and you heard him chuckle lightly.

"What?" You asked, finding enough strength to raise your head and look at him. He was wearing a lopsided smirk, and you subconsciously reached out to brush the sweaty strands of his hair back, as if it was the most natural thing to do.

His eyes flicked between your own, glinting with mirth. "When you first asked me to show you how to kiss so you would be prepared for your future husband, I never imagined it would lead us here."

"Well, Mr Riddle, do you think my husband will be satisfied with what I have learned so far?" You teased with a smile, which turned mischievous when he suddenly glowered as if offended.

"What I think, darling is that you are delusional if you think I would let anyone else near you now that I have had you. Let alone wed you."

His gaze roamed your features, and for the briefest of moments, you wondered if you imagined the flash of red in his eyes.

"You will have no husband to impress. You shall remain as my student and I will teach you how to satisfy me."

You rose a brow at his words, and you could not help but ponder if he was simply jesting, or if the territorial tone in his voice was actually serious. "Oh? And what if the student becomes the master? What will you do then?"

"Then I shall learn how to worship your body until you know no one else's touch but mine."

And when he lay his forehead against yours in an uncharacteristic display of affection, you knew he had no intention of ever letting you go.

༻♛༺

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#tom marvolo riddle #tom riddle #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle smut #tom riddle x reader smut #tom riddle x fem!reader #tom riddle fluff #tom riddle x you #tom riddle one shot #tom riddle fic #tom riddle fanfic #tom riddle fanfiction #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle angst #soft tom riddle #tom riddle imagine

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magicbystarlight · 2 months

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Venomous - Part Ten

Masterlist, Part One

Summary: A wife. A mother. A witch with someone else's name. That’s the life you didn’t want. So Tom offered you more.

Word Count: 1.7K

Warnings: 18+, arranged marriage, age gap relationship, misogyny, terrible parenting, war, jealousy, small injury. Minors DNI.

If you could Apparate, you’d have done it at that moment. Not even the fear of Splinching or censure from the Ministry would have stopped you. The only thing that did stop you from going was the shock of feeling a deep crack running along the length of your wand.

McLaggen was the one who finally stepped forward to disappear the unsightly mess as you stared stupidly with a hand in your pocket. He sat down the bottles to squat in front of you and, like earlier, reached out his hand. Not to check your forehead this time, but to use his sleeve to wipe at the corners of your mouth. "That happens sometimes with the fainting." He smiled in a way that tried to seem encouraging. “Completely normal.”

That seemed to snap Abraxas out of his disgusted haze. His wand, sleek unblemished hazel, was at McLaggen’s chest causing him to stumble over. He hissed, “Keep your filthy, Muggle loving hands off my fiancée,” venomously.

“Someone had to check on her,” McLaggen spit back, pushing the wand away to stand. “If you hadn’t been more concerned with your shoes—”

“If you ever touch her again, I’ll—”

“Oh, I’m quaking in—”

“Stop it!” Larissa stepped between them, uncharacteristic fury in her voice.

Abigail helped you stand, her arm wrapped protectively around your waist. “She’s been through enough, she doesn’t need the two of you getting into some pissing match in the middle of Diagon Alley!”

They looked as if they were going to continue, but then seemed to finally take in the people milling about and watching. McLaggen took a step back, clearing his throat, running a hand through his hair, and muttering a quick apology.

Abraxas tucked his wand away and mimicked the apology. “Let me take you home, have a Healer come check you out.”

Abigail, with an uneasy glance at you, said, "She should have a drink first. She’s gotta get something in her stomach or she could faint again."

"I’ll call on a Healer," Abraxas repeated in a dismissive tone.

With her lips set in a grim line, Larissa turned her back on him, picked up a bottle, and popped off its top. "Drink one of these, okay?" She held it out to you before adding, "Please," in a softer voice.

You downed it without complaint. And then, as if the past twenty odd minutes hadn't been humiliating enough, burped. "Merlin, I'm sorry!"

“Nothing to be sorry about, love.”

“Ralph!” Larrisa sounded murderous.

Abraxas looked murderous.

—

It had been an awful evening. The Healer came and blamed the fainting spell on menstruation. You had to bite your tongue as the idiot explained how fragile the fairer sex was. It was better than explaining the truth. And when he was gone, you sat with the taste of copper lingering on your tongue as Hestia and Sixtus Malfoy made contemptuous remarks about poor health and its effects on childbearing. Abraxas said nothing, he barely even looked at you.

The relief as you finally sank into the bed was beyond words. Your body ached in ways you hadn’t felt since the days after flying lessons in First Year. The relief, however, didn’t extend beyond the physical discomforts.

War. It was still raging on around you and you hadn’t even known. Why? It’s not like you were uninformed. You read the every morning and evening edition of the paper. There should be some talk of it, but it was only ever mentioned when Grindlewald used the Muggle war to cover his own. And those instances were few and far between.

Why would they want to keep the community ignorant on something so critical?

It wasn’t something you could find the answers too stuck in Malfoy Manor and you were sure your mother wouldn’t let you out again. So you turned your attention to a more immediate situation. Hesitantly, you pulled your wand from your pocket. Frayed green hairs poked out from the split in the walnut wood.

Your wrist flicked, other hand extended to catch the quill from the desk you summoned. Nothing came. Another flick. Another empty hand. “Accio,” you whispered.

A hiss of pain escaped as the end of the quill embedded its tip into your palm and the wand slipped to the bed. You sat up, dropping the wand and pulling out the quill. Blood blackened from ink seeped slowly from the wound left behind.

“It was an accident, you know? I didn’t mean to crack you,” you said to the stick now laying listlessly on the bed. It still worked, at least. Resistant, angry even, but hopefully with time it would return to normal. You didn’t have to replace it. Wands broke all the time, yes, but this was your wand. It had chosen you. Discarding it would be an amputation.

For the moment, though, you feared if you tried anything more it would snap in half. Or retaliate. Even now, lying still, it seemed to protest at the mere thought of magic. You wouldn’t push it further tonight.

A knock on the door had you stuffing the wand under a pillow and wiping away the blood on a scarf.

You'd expected your mother to be there, ready to reprimand you for your unsightly display in Diagon Alley or for not trying harder with the Malfoys. But it was Abraxas who opened the door.

“Can I come in?” he asked, holding a bulging sweets bag up as a bribe. He made sure the door clicked shut behind him at your nod. The bed dipped as he sat on the edge, leaving only an inch between your crossed legs and his thigh. He didn’t say anything, his attention focused on rummaging through the sweets until he pulled out a box of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans and held it out to you. “Hope they’re still your favorite.”

You took them. Mother never let you have them growing up, but he’d bring you a box whenever he visited Rick. “No one says no to a Malfoy,” he’d whispered to you the first time he handed them over in front of her. And that one year you overlapped in school, the two would always bring you back a bag of sweets from their Hogsmeade trips.

“They are.” You peeled the box open and popped one into your mouth. The taste assaulted your tongue, pinching your face at the foulness. Nothing, it seemed, would go your way. “Rotten egg.”

“And that,” he laughed, unwrapping a chocolate cauldron, “is why I prefer these.”

You shook your head. “Where’s your sense of adventure?” The next bean wasn’t as bad. Mashed potatoes.

“Far, far away from my tastebuds.”

Silence lapsed as he chewed. The sight was reminiscent of dinner. You focused on the box, a nail digging into the corner of the flap. It split easily under the pressure.

“Little Bird?” His hand reached out and rested firmly on your knee. “How are you feeling?”

You tugged at the edges of the split. Some honesty was needed. “Overwhelmed. It’s been a lot lately.”

He let out a breath. “Our engagement?”

The hurt in his voice had your head snapping up. “No,” you were quick to say, dropping the box to grasp his hand. “Well, yes,” you corrected. Some honesty. “But it’s not you or us, it’s—it’s everyone else.” Your mother, his parents, Rick, The Daily Prophet, classmates, Velena Fawley, Cantankerus Nott, McLaggen, Azar. Tom. This ring wouldn’t chafe as much if everyone else would stop twisting it. “And everything else around it. I still have N.E.W.T.s to study for in between trying to plan the wedding.”

He shifted closer. “We could always forgo all of it.”

“Really?”

“Of course.” He leaned in and kissed your cheek. “We can go to the Ministry tomorrow.” He kissed the other. “The honeymoon would have to wait, but we’d still have two nights as man and wife before you’re back to school.” His hands trapped your face and then his lips were on yours.

Would a kiss ever not taste like manipulation?

“Brax,” you protested against the kiss, pushing softly on his chest. “We can’t.”

“Can’t we?” It didn’t deter him, just encouraged his lips to trail down to your neck. “No need to plan a wedding if you’re already Mrs. Malfoy.”

Your fingers dug into the fabric of his robes. Child bride. A witch with someone else's name. Not yet. It was too soon. Say something. Say anything. “I want a real wedding.”

“We can have a reception over Easter.”

“I want a wedding with our families and friends there, with Rick there. I want the white dress, the beautiful venue, all of it.”

“We could still—”

“No.”

He finally pulled away, the bluntness seeming to catch him off guard. Or maybe it was the word itself that staggered him. No one says no to a Malfoy.

“Is it because of McLaggen? Do you still have feelings for him?”

Resentment burned on your tongue. “I never had feelings for him.”

“Didn’t seem like that today. He was very comfortable touching you.”

“There seems to be an ongoing theme with people not respecting my nos.”`

He had the decency to look guilty.

“I don’t know what you heard about me and him, but don’t believe any of it.”

“And what of what I heard about you and Tom Riddle?”

Your stomach dropped. Of course he’d heard the rumors that had swirled before your engagement. It was a wonder he’d never mentioned them before. “Riddle has a staring problem.”

Abraxas was silent for a beat longer, watching your controlled expression for a crack. Your mother had trained you too well for that to happen. A small, apologetic smile broke across his face. “I suppose I can’t fault him for that.” He heaved a sigh, taking your hand again. “It’s difficult not to be jealous when I have something everyone wants. I’m afraid one day someone will steal you away.”You know the words you need to say. You know the compassionate wonder you need to school your expression into. You know that you’re going to have to kiss him again. You know you don’t have the choice to walk away. You know it could be worse. “I love you, Brax. You’re the only one I want.”

HP Tag List: @bamboozledflamplant @squishytomatoes @benonlinear @byelannie @itsccc

Venomous Tag List: @pearlsofme @fck-this @ambria @sheeple @strangunddurm @weirdowithnobeardo @emberenchanted @iluvweasleys

#tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x ravenclaw!reader #abraxas malfoy x reader #tom riddle x fem!reader #venomous

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pxgeturner · 8 months

Text

kiss it better - t.m riddle

prequel to “milkshakes & confessions” told through mainly his pov

an. all of my tom writing takes has the golden trio cast in modern day. i like his era friends like rebastan, abraxas, rosier. i just don’t know enough about them to write in that era. And also it just easier to write them in a modern setting as i can sprinkle in some modern muggle things. also i’m kind of tired of tom calling hufflepuff r “badger” in so many fics, so she has a much cuter animal nickname. also.

warnings: tommi is down horrendously for r. also theo is an asshole in this.

m.list

he sits a row behind her, next to his friends, listening to her giggle at something her lab partner said. He thinks they’re roommates.

theo leans toward him, whispering, “y’know, riddle, i was walking through the halls yesterday, and that one fell and scraped her hand,”— theo gestures first to the partner, then her— “and she takes her friend’s hand, kisses it fucking better. like a pathetic child.”

tom tilts his head. “hm.”

she leans forward, presumably to note one of professor snape’s remarks, tom isn't sure. he hasn’t paid attention in weeks since he read ahead in the textbook.

“you shouldn’t be so rude, she’s a nice girl.” pansy shoves theo’s shoulder.

“she’s a hufflepuff.”

“so?”

“she’s probably making chocolates or writing secret admirer letters for tomorrow.”

“no she’s not. she’s going to be studying divination tomorrow in the library. she asked me if I wanted to but blaise is taking me on a date.”

“why would she ask you to study with her?” theo scoffs.

“because i’m her friend you idiot. where do you think i’ve been eating my lunch?”

“you’ve gone completely mental.”

“that’s you, you absolute wanker.”

tom sees a hufflepuff who hangs around her quite often. he watches them. soon she approaches them, embracing excitedly in a hug. she squeals unnecessarily. she does it cutely.

“your friend is over there,” he says to pansy.

as pansy looks over, the cute hufflepuff girl notices the group of slytherins and rushes over. “hey, pans!”

“hey.”

“guess what?” “what?”

“professor sprout gave me extra credit on my paper! she was very impressed that i knew about the roots of the bone thistle plant because it wasn’t something that we studied.” her eyes are bright with excitement and her hands dance around as she talks. sometimes her ‘r’s come out a bit too soft and sound like ‘w’s. she smiles widely and it shows her lovely crooked teeth. the sheer nail polish she put on last week is chipping and fading at the tips. she’s wearing her favorite lipgloss and shoes. they’re the ones she wears most often. the lipgloss is red and the shoes are platform mary janes. he likes red lips and mary janes. he likes girls that have lisps and imperfectly lovely teeth. he likes girls who fidget and have chipped nail polish. he likes girls who do all those things and are her.

by the time tom tunes back in, the subject has changed.

“you should have tom study with you. he doesn’t understand the arcana.”

she turns to tom. “i’ll be in the library tomorrow evening studying for the quiz on monday. you should definitely join if you need any help. if you do come, you should bring the deck you borrowed from professor trelawney.”

tom hopes she can’t hear his heart beating, and nods. she says something more to pansy. he leaves, theo follows.

“oh my fucking god. oh my fucking god, pansy, i hate you.” she giggles.

“all of you slytherins are preying on my downfall.” she glares at pansy, enzo, blaise, and draco.

“we’re trying to help,” blaise snickers.

“by having me make a fool of myself!”

mattheo passes by, and then backtracks. he moves around the sucker in his mouth and chuckles. “this is absolutely rich.” he turns back around, “i’m gonna go talk with my brother.” that didn’t make her feel any better.

...

it’s so romantic to spend valentine’s night hunched over a desk with a tarot deck, pendulum, and a mug of now-mostly-cold tea. of course a notebook is part of the party too. she checks the clock and the surroundings compulsively, worried that tom might not show, but she has no idea what she would do if he did. it got excessive, so she forced herself to stop.

tom finally makes it to the library. he sees her at the table, her supplies sprawled out in front of her. he approaches the table, pulling up a chair and sitting across from her. she doesn’t look up, which is fine; tom has plenty of patience. he watches her flip a card and write something into the notebook, and flip another, write something else, periodically sipping from her mug, for five minutes. as she’s about to flip over another card, he uses two fingers to tap the table twice. she yelps, the card leaving her hand and flicking him in the chest. her eyes are wide, and bright, like a bunny.

“hi,” she whispers.

he returns the card. “i’m sorry for being late. a first year needed homework help.” he doesn’t really like lying this time.

“that’s all right! i’m glad you could make it.”

tom nods.

“what kind of things were you hoping to cover?”

“i don’t quite understand why we must take such a useless class. it’s not even magic.”she looks at the table, suddenly interested in her pendulum.

“something wrong?” he wasn’t expecting that kind of reaction.

“i’m, uh, planning on studying divination in university.” oh. “but i know it’s an acquired taste, no biggie.”

“i didn’t mean to offend you. i suppose i should try to understand it. for the class at least.”

“i think i could help with it. who knows, you might like it.”

tom gives a small smile.

“all right, so in a tarot deck there are five arcana.”

“suits.”

“yeah. there’s the four minor arcana: wands, pentacles, swords, cups. the major arcana are the unique cards, like the empress, magician, devil."

he nods.

...

as the two of them are packing up, her bag’s zipper gets stuck. shepulls at it, trying to unstuck it.

“move.” he’s right behind her. she can feel his shirt rub against hers. she slides to the left to give him room. his long fingers manipulate the back of the zipper, quickly freeing the zipper from its thread prison and zipping the bag up the rest of the way.

“pfft, that’s so obvious, why didn’t i think of that? i swear i can be so dumb.” she takes the bag as he offers it back to her.

“you’re not dumb,” he says. “you’re one of the smartest girls in your year.” if she didn’t have such a brain-melting crush on him, she’d laugh. “but you’re definitely the prettiest.”

her cheeks are hot and she doesn’t know what to do. “wow, thanks.” she wants to slap herself.

“there’s a café in hogsmeade that is still open, do you want to go get a drink?”

he just asked me on a date. it is a date, right? “won’t we get in trouble for being out past curfew? pretty much everyone is back already.”

he leans in close to her, fixing a strand of her hair. “relax, you’re with a prefect. nothing bad is gonna happen.”

“let me drop off my bag first?”

...

the two of them talk about everything-- and nothing-- all at once. he pays; she tells him he shouldn’t’ve. he says, “don’t worry, bunny,” which makes her blush once again. once the order is ready, he is the one who goes to pick it up. when he gets back he places a brown pastry bag on the table with her drink. he sees her eyeing the lemon poppyseed scone. she tells him he shouldn’t have, and he says it wasn’t a problem. she insists they share the pastry.

she talks about her family, he tells her about his. the two of them share stories of his brother being a distraction. both of them recommend books to the other. her hands keep brushing against each other as they pick off pieces of the scone. tom orders another. the barista makes a last call for drinks, and he orders her a decaf lavender latte, because he can’t have his girl sleepless, now, can he? she stays until closing, not wanting to leave the bubble she’s created here, with this sweet boy.

before they head out into the frosted air, he zips up her jacket. as they walk back to the castle, he holds her steady. going uphill, the two of them reach a particularly slippery stretch of sidewalk that wasn’t slick on the way over.

“if i fall, you’re buying me dinner as compensation,” she tries to joke. she feels like she’s two seconds from being flat on her face, but tom isn’t wavering at all.

“oh, of course, and i’ll kiss any bruises better as a bonus.” that makes her quiet real quick.

she survives the hill, slightly disappointed that she didn’t slip. once they’re back in the castle, he even walks her to the hufflepuff dorms. “i’ll see you tomorrow, bunny,” he whispers in her ear. he takes note of the smell of the shampoo she uses.

he returns to his dorm, and theo is still awake. he’s at his desk, finishing an assignment. “you studied divination with her,” theo states.

“yes.” tom starts to change into something more comfortable.

“you took her on a date.” “yes.”

“do you think you could love her?” “yes.”

“i knew it.”

“how?”

“you stare at her. not like how you stare at other people. your expression is fairly neutral, to be fair. but you look slightly peaceful.”

tom makes a soft hum. “then why do you hate her so?"

"i don't"

“you don’t?”

“i wanted to get a reaction out of you, you golem of a man.” tom hums again.

“goodnight, nott.”

“goodnight, riddle.”

as tom is about to turn out his lamp, theo speaks once more. “don’t break her heart, tom. she’s a nice girl.”

and while tom doesn’t answer, he thinks about how he’d try his hardest to never make those beautiful eyes shine with tears.

#my writing #tom riddle #tom riddle fluff #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x fem!reader #tom riddle x hufflepuff!reader #tom riddle x you #wizarding world #tommi my love

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