Tom Riddle Fluff - Tumblr Posts

His Obsession | T.R

Pairing: Slytherin Fem Reader X Tom Riddle

WC: 8.4k

Warnings/Notes: Mild language, smut, stalking, breeding kink, obsessed Tom, CNC?, pregnancy, etc.

Summary: You happen to have a so-not-secretive stalker who’s taken on an obsession with you…

You are an obsession (you are an obsession)

I cannot sleep (I cannot sleep)

I am a possession (I am your possession)

Unopened at your feet

There's no balance (there is no balance)

No equality (no equality)

Be still, I will not accept defeat (be still, I will not accept defeat)

He stood in the corner of the dorm, one that wasn't his own, but yours. He snuck in after he was sure you had fallen asleep. This was the first time he had gone as far as to sneaking in your dorm—at least while you were in it.

You had kicked most of the blankets off so that they laid at the end of your bed. There was a thin sheet that covered one of your legs, but the other laid on top of the sheet. The moonlight lit the room perfectly so that he could see you.

You wore a white tank top with black lace underwear. His eyes were still on your face, peaceful as you slept. Your eyelashes were against your cheeks, your plump lips parted as your breathed softly, unaware of the watching eyes on you.

His eyes trailed down the column of your throat, a place he has imagined his lips and hands many times. It was slender...and untouched. He wanted to touch it...mark it and make it pretty. He wanted everyone to see that you were claimed, that you were his.

His eyes fall lower, onto your chest. Your nipples had pebbled against the thin cotton and he took in a stuttered breath. Your breasts were spilling out the top as well, the tank top a few sizes too small, but clearly this was a comfort top of yours.

He noticed the tank top had ridden up, revealing the soft skin of your belly. He takes in a deep breath as he imagined it swollen with his child. He notes the soft curves that lead to the dip to your wide hips. He burns it into his memory.

You stir a bit, but you simply roll over. His eyes fall on your ass, big and round and perfectly accentuated by the black lace. His eyes roam over your thick thighs, noting the soft bare skin. You stir again, forcing yourself to keep your eyes closed as you feign sleep.

Someone was here.

You could feel it. You weren't necessarily scared, maybe slightly alarmed, but you had a feeling you knew exactly whom it was.

You were well aware of your stalker around the school. Tom Riddle thought he was subtle and secretive of the way he watched and followed you. But, you caught on. He's was quite obvious after all. But, instead of confronting him about his staring and following...you let it continue. You loved it.

You loved to egg him on. You moan softly as you slowly sit up, rubbing your eyes. Tom had grown tense where he stood, hoping to god you didn't look to much into the shadows.

"Bloody hell, it's so hot." You mutter to yourself.

It was actually quite nice in the room, but you decided you wanted to tease him. Maybe he'd come out of the shadows tonight and play.

You pull the tank top off, tossing it on the floor before lying back. You turn on your side, closing your eyes as you felt his eyes burn into you.

He stared at your breasts, the pebbled nipples that seemingly called out to him. He needed to leave before he lost control. But, he knew he needed to wait until you fell asleep.

I will have you, yes, I will have you

I will find a way, and I will have you

Like a butterfly, a wild butterfly

I will collect you and capture you

Just as he thought you had fallen asleep, you moan in annoyance again. He stands up straighter from where he had leaned against the wall. You sit up, propping yourself against the headboard.

You could feel the change in the air. You could feel his nerves. You knew exactly what he was thinking. You knew he was waiting until you fell asleep to leave, but you weren't ready for him to leave. You wanted him to play with you.

You trail a hand down the valley of your breasts, across your stomach before slowly sliding your hand down your panties. You moan softly, rubbing the sensitive ball of nerves.

He had grown even harder as he watched you play with yourself and he clenched his jaw, clenching his fists in his pockets as he fought the urge to go to you—to claim you.

You take your panties off, now frustrated they were in the way. You toss them on the floor, in the direction of where he stood. He looks down to where they have landed, right in front of him. He leans down slowly as he keeps his eyes on you as he grabs them. He stands, feeling the wetness on them.

Your breaths became faster as you got closer to reaching your high. You curl your fingers, hitting a spot you were unaware of—one that sent your eyes rolling back as you moaned out loud as you came.

You fell back against your bed, unconscious from the pleasure. You had always been quite sensitive to pleasure, only touching yourself twice before tonight. You were a virgin and didn't even know what pleasure could really be.

Tom was awed with how you came apart. Now, he wished he was above you so that he could be fucking you, making you feel pleasure, but so he could see you unravel.

You were beautiful.

He steps closer to the bed, knowing how risky it was, yet he felt like he couldn't leave without doing this. He cups your cheek, gently tracing your bottom lip. You moan softly, your lips parting. He gently sticks his thumb in your mouth, your lips wrapping around it as you sucked on it slowly before your mouth barely opened.

He pulled his thumb back, a trail of salvia left in its wake. He groans softly as he sucks the thumb you just had. He traces a hand down the column of your neck, down the valley of your breasts, over your belly before reaching where your hand laid limp between your legs. Two of your fingers glistened with your release and he gently grabbed your wrist, taking your two fingers in his mouth.

His eyes flutter closed, tasting your sweet release blossom over his taste buds. A taste he knew he was forever going to be addicted to. He lets your fingers free from his mouth, before disappearing to your attached bathroom. He grabs a rag, wetting it before going to carefully and gently clean you up.

He went back to the bathroom, putting it in the bin. He got to the doorway as he hears your soft moan. He sees you slowly sitting up. You found yourself wanting to touch yourself again, now wanting his touch.

He watches your fingers delve back between your wet folds. He bites his lip, watching you from a different angle, one where he saw your glistening folds from the pale moonlight.

"Oh god." You moan, your eyes squeezing shut.

He smirks, loving how sensitive you were. He couldn't wait until he got to experience your sensitivity with you. He could already imagine you getting all sensitive and worked up over it.

"T-Tom." You moan, not meaning to, but now you imagined it was him touching you.

His lips part in surprise as he watches you. It wasn't long before you were falling apart, realizing you moaned his name. You weren't embarrassed long as you passed out once again. He grabbed the rag, cleaning you once more and sucking on your fingers to experience your heavenly taste.

You are an obsession, you're my obsession

Who do you want me to be to make you sleep with me?

You are an obsession, you're my obsession

Who do you want me to be to make you sleep with me?

You awake to your alarm this time, naked and a bit sore down there from your activities late last night. You smile slightly, knowing he cleaned you up both times. You stand and get dressed in your white button up blouse, grimacing slightly.

Your family wasn't poor, but they also weren't rich. You were lucky to get your books for the year. Buying new clothes was a speciality in your household. So, the blouse was a bit small and couldn't be buttoned all the way. This one was the blouse you tried your best not to wear because it was buttoned right at your breasts. So, anyone could see your breasts that were beautifully accentuated by your lace bra. Thankfully, they couldn't see the bra.

Your blouse hasn't gotten that small just yet. You pull on your "school girl" skirt, another thing you didn't like to wear often as you rather wear you black ones that fit just right. Your "school girl" skirt was short and you were lucky if you didn't flash anyone if you bent over too much.

It was a green plaid style though, suiting your house colors which you liked. You pull on your white knee socks and your black Mary-Janes. You brushed your hair before you decided to pick up your clothes from last night that you had thrown when you got a little bold.

You found the tank-top, but not the panties. You knew you threw them right in his direction and you realized that he must've taken them. You smile slightly before grabbing your messenger bag. You walk out of your dorm, heading into the Common Room.

Tom sat with his friends where they normally sat. You fought not to make eye contact with him or to stare at him. You could feel his eyes on you though.

His eyes were on the blouse that he knew was a few sizes to small. He clenched his jaw, not happy that other boys would see his girl like this all day. Not to mention the skirt you wore.

"Good morning, Mary-Ellen. Are you ready to head to breakfast?" You ask, a polite smile on your face.

Your friends were already at breakfast, but Mary-Ellen was a first-year that you had taken under your wing. She was more advanced than most in her year, and she was a year younger than everyone, but everyone bullied her. Until you stepped in and now you protected her.

"I'm not really hungry today." She mumbles sadly, laying her head down on her arms that were folded on the table.

You frown, taking a seat across from her. You quietly cursed her brother, Avery—one of Tom's friends—who acted as if he had no association with her.

"What's going on, Mary-Ellen?" You question.

"I don't wanna talk about it." She grumbles.

"Mary-Ellen, we agreed that 'wanna' isn't a very polite word. We also agreed that we don't keep secrets from each other. Now, tell me what is bothering you. I'm sure we can fix it." You say, smiling softly at her.

"Avery, are you ever going to treat that little sister of yours, right? She truly thinks you hate her." Lestrange mumbles, watching the interaction between you and Mary-Ellen.

"No one would judge either. Your smart. No wonder she's smart." Abraxas says.

Avery looks at Tom who was already looking at him. He raises his eyebrows before rolling his eyes.

"Avery, she's your sister. Treat her like one rather than icing her out because you're embarrassed she has more brains than you." Tom says.

"There's this boy who keeps picking on me." Mary-Ellen murmurs.

"A boy? Who is this boy?" You ask.

"Someone." She mumbles.

"Mary-Ellen." You warn sharply.

"It's Samuel." She mumbles.

"And what is Samuel doing?" You question.

"It started with him throwing pebbles at me, then taking my school stuff and holding it away from me...but now he keeps trying to lift my skirt up randomly. He also keeps telling everyone we are dating and we had snogged in a broom closet." She exclaims upset, tears welling in her eyes.

Avery's jaw clenched, his eyes going to the doorway where Samuel so happened to enter. You happened to notice as well, Tom putting a hand out to stop Avery.

"Samuel! Come here, please." You call.

"Yes, Miss. Y/l/n?" He questions.

"I want to know why you are picking on, Mary-Ellen." You say expectantly.

"What are you talking about?" He lies.

"Samuel, please do not lie to my face. I don't like it and it's disrespectful. Be honest, so that we can properly figure this out. I've heard you've thrown pebbles at her, taken her school books to tease her, and then you're trying to lift her skirt. Not to mention you are spreading false rumors around the school. Do you know how rude that is? How do you think all of this has made Mary-Ellen feel? Do you know how much trouble you'll get in if this reaches a Professor or the Headmaster? This isn't okay behavior." You scold.

"I just wanted her attention." He mumbles.

"Samuel, whether you wanted her attention or not, that wasn't an appropriate way of gaining it. You've really upset Mary-Ellen. I hope you haven't done this to other girls either. It isn't polite. It is rude and disrespectful. If you wanted her attention, alls you had to do was approach her and talk to her. You didn't have to tease her, lie about her and harass her. I think you owe someone an apology." You say.

"Mary-Ellen, I'm sorry. I didn't know it was hurting your feelings. I promise I'll stop. I'll tell everyone it was just a rumor. I just really wanted your attention...I think your really pretty and I got really nervous about talking to you." He admits, his cheeks flushing red.

"It's okay, Samuel. Just don't do it again or I might have to hex you." She teases.

You smile, watching the two who ultimately end up going to breakfast together. You look at the time and know you won't have time for breakfast. You stand swiftly, smoothing your skirt out before leaving the Common Room.

Tom dismissed himself from his friends, following you from a distance. He was confused, noticing you were taking a different route. You stop in the middle of a corridor, feeling him following you—watching you.

"I can feel you following me and watching me." You say softly.

He stays in the shadows, watching you with curiosity. You smile, looking down at the ground.

"Maybe next time you'll play too? I could feel you watching me last night when I played with myself...and this morning my favorite pair of panties were gone." You say softly.

He swallows hard, a tent appearing his pants. You offered an invite for him to play with you. Not to mention, you were well aware of his eyes on you last night and you simply played with yourself before his eyes.

You carry on walking, aware he was following you still. You reach your class, slipping inside and hoped he'd make it to his class on time.

He did, per usual. He was waiting for Potions, where he hurriedly rushed to before leaving a note on your desk. He walked out and found Abraxas. He walked in with Abraxas to see you at your desk reading the note.

My Obsession,

Are you daring the devil to play? Naughty girl. You knew I was watching all along. If I had known, I would of feasted upon your heavenly taste between your legs. I might have snuck a taste from your fingers, a new addiction of mine. You can have your black panties back once I've claimed you as mine.

You smile slightly, noting how he knew he was obsessed with you and not to mention he tasted you. Your cheeks flushed red at the thought of his mouth around your fingers. You tuck the letter away before the Professor began to assign groups. He apparently decided to switch it up and do boy-girl and to try and have people work with people they normally don't.

You were partnered with a Gryffindor boy, your work station in front of Tom's and his partner who was a Slytherin girl you've seen sometimes.

"So, Y/n...are you single?" Leon asks.

"Yes...but I'm not actively looking for a relationship. Sorry." You say distractedly.

Tom sat behind you, glaring at Leon. He knew he hadn't claimed you just yet, but he was sure it was quite obvious he liked you. He was satisfied with your answer though which made him feel a tad bit better, but he was still pretty pissed off.

"Can I ask why you aren't looking for a relationship?" He asks.

"I'm not so sure it necessarily pertains to you. Sorry, but I just don't understand why your pushing the matter more than it needs." You say softly, not wanting to come off as rude.

"I'm interested in you. Your a nice girl who's smart and who's apparently not looking for a relationship." He says.

"I've got my eyes set on someone already." You say.

"In that case, I'm sorry. I should have known. It's quite obvious." He says.

"What? What's quite obvious?" You ask, turning your full attention to him.

His eyes fall on your chest, before you cleared your throat and he looked up.

"It's just...Riddle is always around you no matter where at." He says.

"Oh, he and I aren't together." You say, smiling like a lovesick fool as you turn back towards the cauldron.

"I never said you both were together. I just meant it's quite obvious you both like each other." He says.

You stay quiet, surprised he'd say that. You finish up the potion, waiting until Professor Slughorn could come over.

"Brilliant! As always!" He praises, putting a hand on your back as he looks at the potion.

"Thank you, Professor." You murmur, your cheeks flushing red.

"Of course. You go on and take a seat. Leon, you clean all of this up." He says before walking away.

Class was over not before long and you stand, grabbing your bag before you quickly hurry away. You could hear Tom trying to get through the crowd of people, sensing his growing annoyance as he tried to catch up with you.

You smile slightly, ducking down another hallway, before taking a different way to the Great Hall. You find your normal seat, getting sucked into a conversation either Katherine and Mirabelle.

"He's staring again." Katherine whispers with a smirk.

"When isn't he?" You chide, smiling back at her.

"I bet if you got up right now, he'd follow you." Mirabelle said.

"He probably would. I have finished my dinner, so maybe I'll test the theory. Once I get to the door I'll turn back and wave to you two. How's that?" You suggest.

"Go." Katherine urges excitedly.

You stand, smoothing out your skirt before making any other move. You shuffle down the bench so you wouldn't have to climb over it and risk flashing someone. You start to walk to the doors, pausing before turning back to wave to the girls who wave and send you kisses. Tom had stopped all movements and stood there waiting for you to walk out of the Great Hall.

You walk out, ducking into a dark corner. You see him step out, looking up and down the hallway. He curses before walking right past you. You wait until he's gone before going left where you take the long way to the Slytherin Common Room.

You walk in, just as he walked in from the direction of the girls dormitory's. You give him a polite smile, walking past him towards your dorm. The door was partially opened which it wasn't like that earlier today when you left.

I feed you, I drink you by day and night

I need you, I need you by sun and candlelight

You protest, you want to be

Safe, oh, there's no alternative (there's no alternative)

He stood in the corner of your dorm again and he watched as you slept soundly. Tonight, it was rather hot in the dorm, so you were in a tank top that had ridden up just below your breasts and another pair of lace panties, this time dark green.

The blankets had been kicked to the floor long ago and he was running his eyes along you almost continuously, trying to burn your soft curves into his memory. You moan as your eyes flutter open.

You could feel him again.

You slide the tank top off, throwing it in the direction you knew he would be. You shimmy your panties down your legs, tossing those in his direction as well.

They hit him in the chest, and he caught it effortlessly. You smile inwardly as you didn't hear them hit the floor. You gasp as a bundle of silk is thrown onto your bed. You grab the little note and open it.

My Obsession,

Put this around your eyes as a blindfold, then I'll come play with you.

You set the note on your end table, excitement coursing through you as you lightly trace the silk. You were dripping between you legs at this point, but nonetheless, you put the blindfold on.

Tom steps out of the shadows, walking around the room slowly. You let a shaky breath out, your ears straining to hear his soft footsteps. He stops at the end of your bed before he slowly climbs up. You let another shaky breath out as you feel him getting closer and closer to you until your breaths were mixing together.

His hand caresses your cheek, before kissing you softly. You hum softly, kissing him back. You gasp as your hands are pinned above your head against the headboard. He ties them there before his lips were back on yours.

His hand slides from your cheek to your jaw to your throat. He gives it a little squeeze, feeling your body jump from surprise. You relax and he smirks.

He lets his other hand roam, grabbing a handful of your breast, a moan eliciting from you. He pulls his lips from you before his hands trace over the rest of your curves. He moves your thighs further apart before kneeling between your parted thighs. He breathes in deeply, his eyes fluttering closed as your sweet smell of arousal.

"Please." You plead, opening your thighs wider.

He smirks, before his head was burying itself between your thighs, feasting upon your mound. You moan, your legs moving over his shoulders. You tug at your wrists, hoping to free them. You could feel the knot building in your stomach already.

His tongue was sinful and worked meticulously. He dove his long, slender fingers into your dripping cunt repeatedly, the squelching sounds along with your moans and pleads for more filling the room. You tighten around his fingers and he thrusts his fingers a few more times, lifting his head to watch you fall apart. He curls his fingers, watching your mouth fall open, a loud moan coming free as you arch your back, pushing yourself into his hand.

He thrusts his fingers slowly through your orgasm and you fall limp. He smiles, knowing how sensitive you truly are now. He leans down, licking you clean before he sits up and unties the binds on your hands and your eyes.

He moves to the corner of your dorm where he stands as he waits for you to awake. He had a plan, but that went to hell the moment his fingers were buried into your dripping cunt.

Your face appears again, I see the future there

But I see danger, stranger beware

Of circumstances in your naked dreams

Your affection is not what it seems

You were awake, but you hadn't opened your eyes yet. You could feel your hands were free and the blindfold was off, but you found yourself excited yet fearful of opening your eyes. You knew he was there still, but something about his energy right now made you feel off.

"Open your eyes, naughty girl. I know you're awake." He whispers.

You slowly open your eyes, looking at the ceiling before slowly pushing yourself up. You look around, and he steps out which catches your attention.

Tom Riddle, being illuminated by the pale moonlight watched you with a charming smile. You knew it was Tom, but seeing him now kickstarted your nerves.

"Tom." You breathe softly.

"Y/n." He murmurs, stepping forward.

You squeeze your thighs together, feeling your cunt throb as you watch the way he carries himself.

"You've been stalking me." You say softly.

"You've loved it." He points out.

"But I shouldn't have." You admit.

"No, you shouldn't have, but you're a naughty girl. You too have dark desires and wants, don't you?" He asks.

"Y-Yes." You whisper.

"Tell me, what do you want right now?" He asks.

"I...I don't know." You lie, turning your gaze to the end of your bed.

"Don't lie to me or I'll have to punish you. Be honest." He spats.

A part of your brain was screaming at you to run, that this man was dangerous, but another part of you loved the danger. You wanted to be in the presence of this man every waking hour of yours if you could. Your eyes flicker back up to his narrowed ones.

"I want you to claim me." You say softly.

His lips part, surprise etched upon his features only momentarily. His lips were moving to a small smile before he slowly begins to strip off his clothes. You watched intensely, realizing your imaginative brain hardly did any justice for this man.

You are an obsession, you're my obsession

Who do you want me to be to make you sleep with me?

You are an obsession, your my obsession

Who do you want me to be to make you sleep with me?

You lay back, a soft breath leaving you as he crawls over you, his eyes slowly taking you in. Your (hair color) was sprawled around majestically, framing your face. Your (eye color) stared up at him, innocence and desire swirling in their depths. Your plump lips were parted, waiting for his next move.

"You are so beautiful." He murmurs, tracing your jawline with his index finger.

"Thank you." You whisper, your nerves bubbling in the pit of your stomach.

"You are mine, Y/n. I don't think you truly realize the severity of that, but you are mine. It's in your best interest to steer clear of any males or I may have to kill them for fraternizing with what's mine. Especially, after tonight." He says, serious and calm.

Your heart raced, your mind and body trying to tell you how dangerous this man is, but you shoved that all away. You focused on him and your excitement, the adrenaline pumping through you and your desire for him.

"What if I just stick by your side after tonight? Or would you think I'm clingy?" You question.

"Never. I want you by my side for the rest of eternity. In the waking hours, I want you with me, but even in the hours of the night I want you by my side." He says.

"Then I'll be by your side." You breathe.

"My obsession." He whispers, sinking his hard cock into you slowly.

Your lips part, as if to say something or maybe to express your pleasure you felt right now, but no sound came out. Your eyes look up into his to see he too felt this amazing feeling you felt. It was heaven. He rocks his hips back and forth, sinking into your tight cunt. You loop your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you.

My fantasy has turned to madness (has turned to madness)

And all my goodness (and all my goodness)

Has turned to badness (has turned to badness)

My need to possess you had consumed my soul

My life is trembling, I have no control

"Tom." You moan, as he sinks the rest of his cock into you.

"Shhh, I know. I know, darling." He murmurs.

"F-Full." You stutter out.

"Shhh, I know. You're doing so well for me right now, darling." He whispers.

"V-Virgin." You whisper.

"I know, I know...I'll be gentle until you tell me you want more." He murmurs.

He thrusts were slow, although a part of him—a messed up, sick part of him—wanted to be fast and rough with you. He wanted your nails digging into his skin, your tears falling down your cheeks, and your cries and blubbering, music to his ears.

However, he knew it'd be painful and no pleasure for you. He wanted you to experience pain, yes, but he wanted it to be pleasurable for you.

He watches your face that was still adjusting to his size. He knew you were a virgin simply from the way you acted. So innocent. Yet, he also has been obsessed with you for years. So, he knew it may take you a bit to adjust to his size. Not only is this your first time, but he is well aware that he is bigger than the average size.

He ducks his head to your neck, leaving little kisses. He left a quick little bite to see your reaction, only to hear your soft moan as you pushed his head closer to your neck.

He left more bites, his tongue soothing over the sting before he left a soft kiss there. He sucked on a spot on the nape of your neck, his teeth nipping at it as he let it go. He left more marks, loving your soft neck covered with his claim.

"Tom, I need more." You breathe.

He leans back, watching your face before pulling his hips back and slamming forward. Your back arches off the bed, a cry of pleasure leaving your lips as your eyes roll back. He places a hand on the headboard in front of him, the other resting beside your head as he thrusted fast and hard into you.

The sound of his skin slapping against yours echoed off the walls, the bed scraping against the floor, your cries and mewls for more were all music to his ears. You tighten around him and he knew you were close.

"T-Tom, if I pass out...keep going. I can still feel it and it's even more heightened." You say, somehow managing to babble it out.

"Of course, darling. It's because you aren't necessarily passed out. You're not necessarily awake, but you're also not asleep. Your body is just overwhelmed from the pleasure." He murmurs.

Your open your mouth to respond as the coil in your stomach comes undone. You cry out, you back arching off the bed against as your nails drag down his back, your eyes squeezing shut in pleasure. He clenched his jaw as you squeeze around him, but he keeps thrusting into you.

You were limp, but his lips part from surprise as little soft moans left your lips. He could feel his own high catching up with him, but he prayed you were awake to see him come undone.

You were slowly coming to, a lot faster than normal, and your eyes flutter open. You could feel your body feeling the pleasure ten times more than it had before you orgasmed. You had no words. You could only moan and cry out for more as you held him closer.

Your eyes were watching how he moved above you. His body was coated in a sheen of sweat just as yours. Everytime he slammed back inside you, the muscles in his arms, abs and chest would clench. His hair was damp, dangling in his dark blue eyes that were watching you. He looked like he could care less from a glance at his face, but in his eyes you could truly see how much this meant to him.

He groans, his face scrunching up as he comes with his last thrust inside of you. Your lips part, no sound passing them as you felt the most amazing feeling ever. He slowly thrusts to ride out his high before pulling out of you. He lays beside you, wrapping an arm around your waist as he kisses your forehead.

He pets your damp hair, thinking about all the things he's wanted with you. Now, he can have them. He glanced at your belly and smiles slightly, imagining it swollen with his heirs.

I will have you, yes, I will have you

I will find a way, and I will have you

Like a butterfly, a wild butterfly

I will collect you and capture you

You had fallen asleep, your hand rested above Tom's heart, your head tucked in the crook of his neck and your legs entangled with his. This...was exactly as he had imagined it.

He found himself dozing off, feeling tired for the first time in a very long time. Tonight would be the best night of sleep he has ever had and he knows it's because he has you. You were the first one awake, but you weren't in any rush to wake Tom up or to move for that matter.

It was Saturday, meaning you both could sleep in late. Even if you both missed breakfast, they'd have lunch or snacks in the Great Hall for anyone.

"You're staring." Tom mumbles, his eyes still closed.

"You're handsome, how could I not?" You ask, a soft smile on your lips.

His lips twitch before they were tilting up. He opens his eyes, looking over you lazily from where you were now sitting up next to him.

"You look stunning in the mornings too." He breathes, almost like he was in shock.

"Oh stop it." You mumble, your cheeks flushed red.

"I mean it, you are beautiful." He murmurs.

"I...I...I'm not quite sure what to say." You admit quietly, looking down at the bed in shyness.

"You don't have to say anything. Come here." He says, opening his arms.

You climb onto his lap that was covered by the thin sheets, letting his arms settle around you. He kisses you softly, cupping your cheek. His tongue glides across your bottom one, silently pleading for your lips to open. To his luck, they did. His tongue slides into your mouth, his movements becoming more urgent as he tugs you closer to him, his teeth clattering with yours.

His hands slide from your hips to your ass, pulling you closer to him. You moan softly, your hands getting lost in his hair.

He pulls away, looking you over slowly, his eyes falling on your stomach. Oh, how he wanted to see you swollen with his child. He moves the sheets, revealing his hard cock. Your pupils dilate, his words washing away as you begin to sink down into his hard cock. You moan, rolling your eyes up to his, the both of you getting lost in the pleasure.

"You both have been around each other most of the time and she still doesn't know of your plans?" Abraxas asks.

Tom sighs, running a hand over his face. He knows Abraxas may have a point as you and him have been together for four months now, but he wasn't convinced whether you'd freak out or not.

Not to mention, the sneaking around over the summer so you both could hang out was ridiculous. Apparently, your parents dislike Tom immensely for no reason. At least to your opinion. Tom is sure they know he's a half-blood which would mean they have similar views to him which means you could have similar views as well.

Abraxas rambled on and Tom stared at the window, his thoughts back on you. You had returned to your home for the weekend as your parents had requested, so he found himself missing you immensely. Two days apart was the longest you both have been apart...since being together.

It was your guys' year seven and were two months into the year now. The cold, chilly weather was approaching at full force and that only meant the holiday season was as well.

"T-Tom, can I speak with you?" You ask quietly.

His head snaps to the left, seeing that you stood in the doorway of the Common Room. His eyes run over you, looking for a sign that you were hurt as he could tell you were upset.

"You're back early. Is everything okay?" He asks, standing and striding towards you.

You take his hand with one of your shaky ones, silently leading him to your dorm. You close the door, leaning your head against it as you think of the best way to approach this. Tom noticed you had more bags in your room and he turns to you confused just as you had turned and leaned your back against the door.

"Darling?" He asks.

"Tom...my parents said I either needed to break up with you if I were to continue living with them. Or...if I were to stay with you...then I would be cut off and kicked out of the house." You say quietly.

"Are you trying to break up with me?" He asks calmly.

"No! Tom, can't you see! I chose you! Because I love you! Yet, I won't have anywhere to go after school. And I need a place to go, Tom. I can't be homeless." You exclaim.

"Darling, we will find a place. You won't be homeless. I would never let that happen. We will figure it out." He says.

"Tom, we need to figure this out fast. I'm pregnant. Roughly a month. We can't raise our child on the streets of London. We need a home." You stress, tears welling in your eyes.

His lips part with surprise as he looks at your stomach. He knew something had been different about you lately. You've had a glow to you that he can't get over.

You are an obsession, you're my obsession

Who do you want me to be to make you sleep with me?

You are an obsession, you're my obsession

Who do you want me to be to make you sleep with me?

Tom eyed you from where he sat at a table in the library. You had gotten up to find another book, but his eyes were on your swollen stomach. He was more than obsessed with you pregnant. He told you and himself that you were going to be pregnant again and again.

You felt as you were ugly pregnant, but with the way Tom was constantly eyeing you and ravishing you any moment of the day, you knew you must've looked pretty in his eyes. When you first started to show, he was dragging you to your dorm, empty closets or empty classrooms to ravish you at least five or six times a day.

It's definitely been a challenge for you to keep up with Tom, but you adored him. Now, you were roughly seven months and only had roughly two weeks until graduation. Tom had been a bit more spacey recently, trying to make sure everything is sorted out once you both graduate. But, that didn't mean he didn't have time to sneak off with you and to ravish you while telling you how beautiful you were.

He cut it down to maybe once or twice a day—if you were up to it of course—as he didn't want to hurt you or the baby.

You could feel his eyes on you, but you continued to read the book you had found. You rest a hand on your belly, grimacing as you feel pain. You have an appointment today, the first since you went before you left your parents as you've been to embarrassed.

The stares and whispering had grown too much for you to bear, so you hid away most of the time if you could. However, you were sure Tom said something and made threats as most of that has come to an end. He was the one who actually fought with you about having an appointment.

"Everything okay, darling?" Tom asks, standing behind you as he rests his hands on your hips.

"I-I don't know if this is normal...I've never felt this before." You whisper, a hand on your belly.

"Everything okay?" The librarian asks, coming over to you two.

"I think something's wrong. This doesn't feel right." You say panicked.

She steps forward, ignoring Tom's narrowed eyes as she places her hand on your belly. Her face softens as she looks at you, a soft smile on your face.

"Oh dear, this isn't bad. This is good, really good. This is your baby kicking. I'm surprised it hasn't started earlier. Tom, you should have a feel." She says, taking her hand away.

Tom's eyebrows furrow before he places his hand on your bump. He jumps slightly before placing his hand back on your belly.

"Does it hurt?" He asks.

"Not really. It hurt a bit at first, but now the baby is kicking in a different area. It doesn't hurt as bad here." You say quietly.

"I'll leave you two to it. If you ever have any questions, don't fret to ask dear. I've got three of my own." She says, smiling softly before leaving you both.

"He's quite strong." Tom murmurs.

"He could be a she." You chide, rolling your eyes up to his.

"It's a boy. I can feel it." He says.

"Okay then." You mumble, rolling your eyes as you look back down at your book.

"You've gotten quite the attitude the past few days and I'm not so sure I'm having it." He says calmly.

"And what would you do about it?" You asks.

"Spank you. Push you to the edge over and over again. Make you want my cock, but I won't give it to you. I'd make you so sorry that you'll be begging at your knees for my forgiveness. So, tell me...are we going to straighten up our little attitude problem, or am I going to have to punish you?" He murmurs into your ear.

You were tense, your panties wet with arousal. You wanted to say something snarky, but with how horny you've been yourself because of the pregnancy hormones...you weren't so sure you were going to risk that.

Not to mention, Tom was true to his word—always. If he wanted to prove a point to you, he'd prove his point and he'd prove it pretty goddamn well. You could be on your knees and it wouldn't be enough. He's sadistic and he likes you like that. Maybe if you threw tears in the mix, he might cave—might as the keyword—but even that wasn't a solid might.

"I'll start behaving." You mumble.

"Good girl." He whispers, leaving a soft kiss on your neck before walking back to the table.

He watches as you move a hand to your belly again, looking down at it with a soft smile. You whisper something to your belly, something he wishes he heard, but instead he watches you with awe.

He knew you'd be an amazing mother. You've tried all you could to learn about your pregnancy, but you've come to learn that all pregnancies aren't the same. Each experience is unique and special. You've found you have to learn what works for you and you've got to find what is the right fit just for you. Tom has admired your growth and strength during your pregnancy.

He knows you don't feel beautiful pregnant, but he thinks otherwise. Everytime he looks at you, he sees a goddess whom he worships. He's already decided he wants to see you pregnant several more times after this.

You wobble over to the table again, his smile widening as you struggle. He stands, helping you sit before pushing your chair in. He's learned to love how dependent you've became. He loves to help you. He likes feeling needed by you. Even if it's simple tasks just because it's hard for you to walk sometimes.

"Tom." You murmur.

"Yes, darling?" He asks, looking you over slowly.

"I think I'm going to miss it...you know...being pregnant and all. I've really grown to like the baby bump. It's an intimate feeling knowing that there's a baby growing in here and I'm helping it grow by eating and whatnot. I think I'm going to be really sad to see the bump go." You admit.

"Darling, don't be sad. I plan to get you pregnant several more times. I love how beautiful you look pregnant. I thought you were the most beautiful woman I laid eyes on before, but when I saw you pregnant...it was like I was staring at a goddess." He says.

"What if you don't like me after I'm pregnant though? My body is going to change, a lot." You sigh, looking down.

"Y/n...darling, look at me. You are going to be beautiful, so beautiful. I wish you could see what I was seeing everyday. Sure, your body may be different. But, you spent months growing a life in there. How magical is that? I think it's quite extraordinary what you're doing. I know most women can do this, but you're mine and I think everything you do is extraordinary. But, I'll always think you're beautiful and I hope one day I can make you see how beautiful you are." He says.

"Tom, I wish you knew how much I love you." You say, your eyes stinging with tears of love.

You knew he wasn't the most emotional person. He's told you before, he never expected that he'd gain feelings for someone. He truly thought he was incapable of feeling—until you. At first, he simply thought it was an infatuation that turned to an obsession that later turned into his burning love for you. He doesn't say it often, but when he does tell you that he loves you, you take it and hold onto that moment.

"You tell me every day, darling. So, I think I have an idea." He murmurs, offering you a sly smile before looking back down at his book.

You are an obsession, you're my obsession

Who do you want me to be to make you sleep with me?

You are an obsession, you're my obsession

Who do you want me to be to make you sleep with me?

You are an obsession

"Tom...aren't they perfect?" You murmur, looking down at the twin boys you had hours earlier.

Tom was staring at you, the way you looked at your sons with so much love and care already. His eyes fall to your lips which were stretched into a soft smile as you looked down at your boys. He watches you gently stroke one's cheek before looking back at your face.

"Yes. Perfect." He murmurs.

"Tom! I'm talking about our sons, not me." You scold, your cheeks flushing red with embarrassment.

"I know! They are perfect and so are you. Mattheo definitely favors your more. I'm kind of jealous he's going to be so fetching as he grows older." He says.

"Oh shush, you. Tom favors you and I think both of our boys will be quite fetching once they grow older. It's definitely in their eyes." You say.

"God, I want you pregnant again." Tom murmurs.

"Tom! Let's wait until we at least get these two out of diapers! We are going to have our hands full." You exclaim, laughing slightly.

Tom takes Mattheo so you can feed the fussy Tom who hadn't wanted to take a bottle earlier.

"Please get out of diapers soon so that I can put another sibling in your mommy." Tom whisper.

"Tom Marvolo Riddle! He is a baby! Shush! You can't talk to him like that." You scold.

"Like he'll remember that. If he does, we have bigger problems on our hands." He says.

"Tom, shush. I love you, but shush." You say, laughing softly.

He smiles slightly, enjoying that sound from you. He watches as you look back down at Tom with a soft smile. Mattheo starts to squirm and he looks down at the boy. He smiles slightly, lifting a hand to swipe some of the hair out of his eyes.

Mattheo lifts a hand, his tiny hand wrapping around Toms pinky. Mattheo's brown eyes look up into Tom's blue ones. A big gummy smile appears on his face before he sneezes. Tom huffs out a quiet laugh, looking back down at the boy who snuggled closer to him. He leans down slightly, leaving a soft kiss on his head.

"I love you, Mattheo." He murmurs.

He looks up to see you staring at him with a big smile. You could tell he was embarrassed by showing his love for his son publicly, but you stick your hand out to him. He takes it, sitting on the edge of your bed.

"I love you." You murmur.

"I love you." He says, looking down at you with intense eyes.

He looks over at the fussy baby in your arms. He leans down, place a soft kiss on Tom's head as the baby lifted a hand and rested it on Tom's cheek, looking into his blue intense eyes with his identical ones.

"I love you, Tom." He murmurs.

He sits back, watching as he snuggled closer to you, seeming content now. He looks back at you, leaning down and leaving a soft kiss on your lips.

"I love you more than words, darling. I can't even begin to express how much I love you, nor how much I care. I know I struggle to show you those acts on a day to day basis, but I want you to know you truly mean the world to me." He murmurs.

"I know, love. I think I say it enough for the both of us. I appreciate all that you've done for us. I love you so much and I can't wait for our eternity together." You say softly

You are an obsession, you're my obsession

tom riddle is my inspiration in academics, he's so smart and beautiful at the same time

9/5/22

can you rec some of your fav tom riddle fics? 🤍

omg, someone finally asked this question!!

1.) His Dark Lady - dxddydracomalfoyyy

This is probably the most loveable of them all, my fave book of all time.

2.) A Riddle to Solve - SSTAR2000

Another really unique book, the mc is really powerful although some parts are a bit cringe (?) because it feels like she's everything like those memes on tt of y/n. Overall a good book though (try it out).

3.) Oh, Ophelia - Maebelletree

I really love this too especially because it is a unique book, I haven't read any other tmr books like this.

4.) Now and then - hmmdisgustin

It is just like the title going back and forth from now and then.

5.) Kneel - JulieHoscar

I absolutely abhor Tom Riddle in this book, but I'm still going to recommend it because I still do like this book. This book make me feel ambivalent.

6.) RIDDLE. DISCONTINUED - ravenclaws-

Although this book was discontinued, it still has a very good plot line, it shouldn't have been discontinued, but I guess it is very hard to write a story. Maybe in the future it will be renewed (?) hopefully.

7.) Midmorning - murderarts

This book is heartbreaking, even though it is only a short story, I still feel emotionally attached to it.

That's it for the recommendation, notice I did 7? It's because it is believed that Tom riddle rather likes the number 7 and also because of his seven horcruxes.

DISCLAIMER: All of these are in wattpad!!

hey everyone!!

i need help

so i've just remembered that one author on wattpad who wrote about abraxas malfoy and i believe her FL is like played by go minsi, basically she plots her husband’s death because she saw what he did to innocent people (prejudice against muggle borns) but she pretends to be in love with him.

if anyone can remember that story, please point me out to the author i'd be very thankful!!

“I wish I knew how to quit you.”

me to dark, psychotic men

this idea just came to me rn: reader and tom have been writing secret notes to each other and leaving them around the castle for the other to find and reader finally gets the courage to confess/flirt in a message but for some reason the note never gets to him :( and its kinda angsty bc reader takes his lack of response as a rejection but ends with him finally finding it

A/N: I went feral when I read this so obviously I had to write it ASAP. I changed the premise only slightly, I hope you enjoy!!! And thanks for the super cute idea, I'm really feeling the soft fluff tonight 🥺💖

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

Ink From The Well

Summary: “We sit at the same desk,” he calls after you. When you looked over your shoulder he’s still standing there with a glint in his eyes that makes you suspect that he’s already put two-and-two together. “Though you already knew that,” Tom continues, head tilting back a little as he smiles. [GN reader ★ no pronouns ★ ambiguous house ★ fluff ★ mutual pining]  Wordcount: 3.1k Warnings: none

ℙ𝕖𝕣𝕞𝕒𝕟𝕖𝕟𝕥 𝕋𝕒𝕘𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥

𝔸 - 𝕄 @abhorredlara @anevrismes @arana-alpha @books-butterbeer @catastrophicalllyy @cranberrypills @dear-fifi @dropssofjupitter @dravenwitchmusings @empath-bunny @evertiel @expectoscamander @fish-eg @grimdevil @herfantasyworldd @hueanhdang @itsjustfics @just-wordsandthoughts @lemirabitur @lovelyysiriuss @lucys-brain @mentally-in-northern-italy @mikariell95 @moatsnow ℕ - ℤ @niallwrld​ @nothinghcppens @obliviouspotterhead @oui-magnifique @pearlstiare @pink-kixxes @raven-riddle @rededfoxy @saintsha @seriouslyginnychase @silverdelirium @sokkasdimples @suicide-sweetheart636 @sunles @tallyovie @tm-mrvl-rddl @toasterking @valentinecarnage @vallastempermental @voidmalfoy @weirdowithnobeardo @whentheskyispinkandabitblue @whoevenfrickenknows @whoreforgeorgeandfred @wizardcherryblossom​

The Potions dungeon is always cold, always a little damp, and only ever lit by sickly yellow lights hanging in grim iron cages from the hewn stone ceiling, but it has an ethereal, sinister sort of beauty to it. The Charms classroom is nearly the reverse, bright and wooden and polished, smelling faintly like fresh popcorn and lined with teetering stacks of bound parchment. The Greenhouses are beautiful too, burnt orange bricks lined with vibrant green weeds, gnarled tables bowing under the weight of strange, colourful plants, and vein-like vines spreading up across the grubby glass ceiling panes in a way that always casts the sunlight into dappled streams. There’s something to love about every classroom the castle, but there’s one that you love most of all.

Transfiguration isn’t necessarily your best class, and Dumbledore isn’t necessarily your favourite teacher, and yet walking into his classroom fourth period on Tuesdays and first period on Fridays never fails to make you smile like nothing else can. It’s not so much the classroom itself that you love, but rather where in the classroom your desk sits. It’s in the back row, first on the left from the door.

Because that just so happens that, in second period on Wednesdays and fifth period on Mondays, Tom Riddle sits down at the very same desk.

Professor Dumbledore likes to ask questions with two correct answers so that even when you answer correctly, he can still be a little bit more correct than you, you’d written absently one day on a scrap of parchment. You’d rolled the scrap between your fingers until it was a twig-thin scroll and discarded it into the inkwell of your desk when the bell rang, forgotting about it completely until the following Tuesday. Perhaps you would have missed it if you hadn’t remembered the note, leaning forward to check if it was still there. You’d not been expecting much but your brows had raised in surprise when you’d caught sight of a little square of very yellowed parchment sitting in the bottom of the well, nondescript and folded along perfectly aligned edges.

You’d pulled it out quickly, replacing it with your ink pottle and sitting back without anyone noticing – though you hadn’t had a chance to open the note until Dumbledore turned his back to write up a very long explanation of the dormant life potential of live creatures transformed into inanimate objects.

You’d pulled the square note from under your textbook and unfolded each razor-sharp margin to reveal a single sentence written in an alluring slanted script.

And in this practice, is it Dumbledore’s intention to challenge his students or to insist on retaining the intellectual high ground?

There had been a strange exhilaration to it. Someone had actually found your absent thought, someone had taken the time to indulge in writing out a reply. Your response, which you’d left folded up, flat, and covert in the bottom of the inkwell just like the stranger, had read;

Conscious or subconscious?

It had been at the forefront of your thoughts walking to class that Friday, your heart skipping a beat when you’d peeked into the ink well as you’d sat down and found another yellowy square of parchment.

Your implication is not lost on me.

Your excitement had dwindled, your smile slowly fading. It wasn’t much to reply to. Fearing that the close-ended comment had been a subtle request to end the strange exchange, you’d left the inkwell empty when the bell had rung, and an entire month had passed before you’d scribbled out another note to the stranger in a fit of boredom.

This class is 30% people trying to impress Dumbledore, 5% Dumbledore actually being impressed, 15% him saying the phrase “now I’m sure the problem here immediately presents itself,” 20% an unhinged monologue, and 30% watching the guy next to me create monstrosities that defy imagination out of common household items

And there it was. A reply waiting for you three days later as if the month-long silence had never occurred.

You’ve left very little allowance for actually practicing Transfiguration in those calculations. Perhaps Dumbledore would be more impressed if his students spent less class time writing to strangers and more time paying attention to his unhinged monologues.

Which had made you retort with a sarcastic accusation that they, too, were spending class time writing to strangers, and then they’d replied with an equally sarcastic invitation to compare grades, and that had been that. A reply waiting for you in every single Transfiguration class, not a single one missed, each note growing a little longer until you started to wonder what would happen if one of the other students who sat at that desk took a peek into the inkwell by chance between your conversations.

You hadn’t had any idea exactly who you’d been writing to until one fateful Wednesday when, after realising a little too late that you’d left your textbook sitting beneath your desk the previous day, you dashed back to the Transfiguration classroom during break to retrieve it. The double doors were open, the previous class was still filing out, Dumbledore calling after them about the upcoming due date for the very same essay he’d assigned you yesterday.

You wait for the crowd to clear a little, craning your head around the door to see if you can pre-emptively spot your book on the ground under your desk when you catch sight of the person still sitting there. At that moment he’s placing a tidy stack of notes into a simple black folder and sliding it into his bag, head bowed to his task and leaving you to stare quite freely at his very striking profile. You watch frozen as Tom Riddle stands, slings his bag over his shoulder, leans forward, and in a fluid series of very nonchalant motions, picks up a capped pottle of ink and drops a small cleanly folded square of parchment into the empty inkwell in its stead. He turns and steps through the door into the corridor as he stows his ink in his bag, looking up curiously when he notices you standing there motionless.

You stare at him, coming to terms with the impossible realisation that apparently, you’re very good friends with Riddle, the jewel in Slughorn’s crown, most likely to be Minister for Magic before 40, and current record holder for number of Outstanding O.W.L.s in Hogwarts history. Plus there’s the whole thing about him being catastrophically gorgeous.

Tom has paused in front of you, expression polite but with a definite hint of amusement as he clicks his bag shut. “Are you quite alright?” he asks, lips just barely quirking.

“Yes,” you say hastily, turning for the door and leaning down to seize your book off the ground where you’d left it. “I forgot my book,” you mutter as you pass him with averted eyes, hoping it’s enough of an explanation to write off your slightly erratic behaviour as you try to flee the scene.

“We sit at the same desk,” he calls after you.

It’s your turn to hesitate. When you looked over your shoulder he’s still standing there, lips still quirked, a glint in his eyes that makes you suspect that he’s already put two-and-two together.  

“Though you already knew that,” Tom continues, head tilting back a little as he smiles.

“I just found out,” you say, waving a little sheepishly at the door.

He turns to you, striding closer with intimidating ease and his smile visibly growing as he watches your eyes widen – but he moves straight past you with nothing more than a single quiet comment in your ear, lilted with humour. “I await your reply.”

You don’t tell anyone. Not even your friends. Everyone is in love with Tom and you can’t help but suspect that things would quickly get out of hand if anyone found out that you’ve been in close correspondence with him for the past four months, even if you hadn’t technically known it yourself. And things had already become hard enough now that you knew who was reading the notes you left, and whose hand was penning his replies.

You try very hard not to think about it too much, you try not to wonder if he smiles when you write something funny, if he looks forward to your answers to his questions, if he thinks about the notes outside of class like you do. Maybe he’s just bored. Maybe he’s just messing with you. Maybe it had been the anonymity he’d liked about the interactions, and now he’s just humouring you.

It’s useless. You’ve been wondering who was on the other end of the notes since the beginning, wondering exactly which of your peers is made up of this striking mix of shrewd humour, clear intelligence, and measured charisma, and it’s very, very hard to continue as if things are normal once you know that it’s him.

It’s not really that surprising that he evidently noticed your replies shortening, becoming steadily more stilted and less familiar as your nerves get the better of you – though you’d hardly expected him to be so blunt in pointing it out, and you definitely hadn’t anticipated how he’d apparently been interpreting your distance.

Were you disappointed that it was me?

You reread Tom’s note countless times. It lies open and looming at the head of your desk for half the lesson as you try very hard to focus on the class to no avail.

Is this seriously what he’s been thinking? Is it a joke? Is it supposed to be so clearly ridiculous that you’re supposed to understand it as just his way of coaxing the real answer out of you?

You write out your reply, knowing it’s the overly cautious way forward but unable to bear the thought of misinterpreting him.

What do you mean?

In the three days before you get his answer, you find yourself actively avoiding any situation in which you might see him – you attend meals at peak hours to get lost in the crowd, you avoid the library like you’ll disintegrate if you set a foot inside, and you don’t dare stray near the 6th floor on Saturday when you know for a fact that Slughorn is hosting some poncy get-together in his office.

When you finally sit down on Tuesday at your desk, you don’t even pretend to pay attention to Dumbledore starting the class at the front of the room. You seize the yellow parchment square from the inkwell and hastily flatten it on your desk.

I’ve noticed that you’ve been somewhat different since we met. I’m sorry if you were disappointed to learn of my identity, if you’d like to retire our correspondence I promise to let it go gracefully.

Your eyes widen. You pick up the tidy little square and hold it a little closer, barely believing what you’re seeing.

The parchment bears tiny little ink marks, the faded ghosts of letters adjacent to the pitch black carefully constructed script of his insane note. You could just barely make out some of the words – reserved, one of them seems to say, apologies, says another, a couple more faint letters here and there but nothing else you can properly decipher.

It’s heart-wrenchingly obvious what the marks are.

Tom must have drafted the note at least once before leaving this final version for you, his ink bleeding through onto the parchment below.

Dumbledore’s open hand suddenly appeared in front of you and you jump out of your skin, looking up with burning cheeks and a thundering heart. “Note-passing is not tolerated in my classroom I’m afraid,” Dumbledore says kindly, “now please hand it over, and content yourself with note-taking for the remainder of our lesson.”

You crumple up Tom’s note into a ball over the snickers of the rest of the class, placing it in Dumbledore’s hand and ducking your head in embarrassment as people cast looks your way from all over the room. Dumbledore nodded and made his way back to the front of the classroom, and you try to ignore the way people were still giggling at you.

Tom had drafted the note. He’d drafted it.

It’s this more than anything he’d actually written that makes you consider actually answering him honestly.

When everyone’s attention finally slides away from you and Dumbledore is helping a trio of boys at the front of the class with their Augor charms, you surreptitiously tear off a scrap of parchment. You carefully write out your reply, hoping that Tom doesn’t pay half as much attention to your handwriting as you do his. If he did, he might notice that your lettering is a little more shaky than usual.

I wasn’t disappointed at all, Tom, kind of the opposite. You just make me nervous.

You fold it very hastily just to get your own nearly-confession out of your sight before you second-guess yourself, slipping it underneath your ink pottle. Your heart’s beating too fast considering nothing’s actually happened yet.

It takes all of twenty minutes after class ends for you to regret being so honest. You have to force yourself not to go back and retrieve your note before Tom’s lesson the following day, dreading someone seeing you and demanding an explanation. Instead, you throw yourself into a series of distractions that are almost successful in keeping your mind off your square of parchment sitting in that little wooden nook waiting for Tom’s elegant fingers to lift it from its hiding place.

You don’t know what the hell to expect when you sit down on Friday, but nothing could have prepared you for what you found in your inkwell when you leaned forward.

Nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

You sit back, stomach sinking so hard your throat closes up like you’re about to be sick. It’s the first time in half a year he’s not left you a reply.

It had been really stupid to read into those marks, he’d probably just been writing notes for class overtop of the note. It had been really stupid to read into any of this, now that you think about it. You drop your ink pottle into the well, jaw tight, wishing you weren’t this disappointed.

There’s nothing there the following Tuesday either, the nook sits empty and dusty and silent. When Friday comes and there’s still no note you start to accept with grim, hard-to-swallow shame that your confession hasn’t gone unanswered at all. The silence is his answer.

Maybe it had been a ruse after all. Maybe he’d lost all interest in the game when he’d found out you’re just like everyone else in the school, harbouring feelings for him. You have no trouble coming up with increasingly mortifying reasons for his silence over the week that follows, and  you very quickly come to the resolute decision that you need to put the entire ordeal out of your head – clearly Tom already had.

You’re winding your way back to your common room after a late night finishing Slughorn’s assignment on the ethics of using fairy blood when you hear the footsteps.

Someone was running somewhere nearby, echoing through the vaulted stone ceilings and airy corridors, and you pause at the corner looking around curiously as the footsteps seem to be getting much, much louder. You jump back a bit as Tom suddenly skids to a stop in front of you.

You blink at him, stunned. His normally pale face is flushed, the black waves of his hair slightly stuck to his forehead, his lips parted and he’s breathing hard, his tie askew and his usually perfect robes hanging slightly off one shoulder. He’s leaning forward a little, squinting at you as he tries to catch his breath.

“Tom,” you say in utter astonishment.

“He just gave it to me,” Tom says through hard breaths, lifting a small scrap of paper in his hand that, with a feeling much like being impaled through the stomach with a large icicle, you instantly recognise as your note. “Dumbledore.”

“Dumbledore just gave you my note?” you ask dumbly, still very bewildered by his appearance.

Tom nods. “I went to ask him some questions, about some of the comments he left on my essay,” he manages to say, his dark brows pulling together and his chest still rising and falling a little more than usual. “And afterwards, he asked if I recognised this.”

You find yourself wishing violently Dumbledore had thrown the thing out. “He caught me reading yours the other day,” you mutter, holding your books a little tighter to your chest and looking away. “He must have seen me hide it.”

“He just gave it to me,” Tom repeats, holding it out a bit more.

“Well he may be a little unhinged but he’s still pretty sharp,” you quip, turning your shoulders away and hoping he takes the hint and lets you leave. “I’m not surprised he knew it was for you, I suppose he recognised your handwriting in the first one –”

“You don’t have to be nervous,” Tom interrupts loudly.

You go very still, staring at him again. Tom’s lips press together, and he finally lowers the note.

“I just wanted to tell you,” he adds with a slight frown, and if this wasn’t Tom Riddle you would have sworn that there was something almost awkward in the way he averts his gaze from yours.

“Did you run here?” you ask suddenly, even though the answer is very obviously yes.

Tom’s uncomfortable look intensifies, and you watch him shift slightly on his feet with a mixture of deep gratification and a sudden bursting fondness so intense you feel a smile appear on your lips.

“How did you know I was here?” you add curiously, turning back to him.

“I saw you when I was in the library earlier,” Tom says quickly, sliding the note into the pocket of his trousers like he’s hoping you somehow won’t notice. “I thought I might still catch you.”

You nod slowly. Tom’s eyes are now flicking between yours and the smile on your lips like he’s trying to figure out exactly what this combination of emotions means and someone’s timing him to do so.

“Well,” you say after a long second, taking a step back down the corridor and savouring the sight of him standing there with his ruined hair and dishevelled uniform before you have to turn away. “I await your reply.”

He nods wordlessly, watching you retreat, and you bite back your smile as you force your eyes off him and hurry away.

Maybe you’d been a little too harsh on Dumbledore after all.

hiya there may I request a Teenage! Tom Riddle x Slytherin reader? I like to imagine that during his time in Hogwarts he met someone who makes him question is this really what he wants to become (even if just for a second) the reader is not into the pureblood prejudice thing and she begged him not to follow his blind ambition to become a dark wizard and for a moment he’s tempted to say yes and just stay with her? but of course his ambition won so ANGSTY please feel free to break my heart

The Light to His Darkness | Tom Riddle x Reader

Word Count: 2,289 words

Warnings: cursing, some making out, angst, death

October 5th, 1944. The Great Hall. 9:10 am.

A heavy sigh left your lips as you saw Avery and his group approaching you, a smug look on his face, stirring your eggs around your plate a small smile creeping it’s way onto your face. You had made it to the Great Hall early this morning so you could talk to Tom about some homework, but he was off talking to Professor Dumbledore and you would have to wait for him to come back. If he ever did come back. Sometimes when he spoke to Dumbledore he would spend hours speaking to the old man, and he wouldn’t even realize. The feeling of someone sitting next to you broke your train of thought, flashing Avery a smile knowing he wouldn’t take anything else for a greeting. The boy had been chasing after you for 5 years, and he hasn’t faltered since.

“Good morning, Avery. How did your date with Nott go?” You teased, shoveling a forkful of eggs into your mouth smirking at the blushing blonde. The group of Slytherins who had walked with him to the Great Hall were all laughing, including Nott himself.

“Oh, come off it. You know I only have feelings for you, sweetheart.”

“I’m quite aware. I don’t think that changes how dear old Nott feels for you,” Nott reached over the table grasping Avery’s hand in a dramatic flourish pressing a kiss to the back of his hand, before Avery ripped it out of his grasp throwing a grape at his face, “Hey, that was my grape!”

Avery grabbed a handful of grapes out of a nearby bowl, dropping them hastily in your plate managing to get them all over your eggs. You laughed, shoving him over playfully bouncing a grape off of his forehead. The pair of you had failed to notice the sobering up of your surrounding peers, turning to pop a grape into your mouth.

“Avery. You’re in my seat,” The deafening silence that came from the second Tom had opened his mouth was instantaneous, the once smiling boy’s face turning stone hard moving over to make room for Tom who swiftly sat down next to you. “Everything in order?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good... I’m going to need you to meet me in the Room of Requirement, at midnight... Bring your wand,”

The second bit of his sentence he directed to you, his warm breath just barely brushing over your cheeks nodding at his words turning your head to look at him. His features were harder than usual, his bottom lip had turned a red shade from chewing on it, a habit he had gotten into recently one that he only did when he was worried, an emotion he rarely felt.

“How about we go to Hogsmeade this upcoming weekend? Are you guys willing?”

You chirped trying to ease up the mood, running your fingers through your hair scanning the faces of the boys in front of you and to the right of you. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Tom’s feature soften, his hand reaching out underneath the table to pat your knee ever so softly.

“Why not?” Your eyes flitted over to Tom, a smile sneaking onto your face. “Wouldn’t want to miss out on a chance to give Avery another chance at his date,” Tom jested taking a sip of his juice.

At first they didn’t know if they should laugh, considering Tom’s voice never usually showed any form of emotion other than anger and the occasional joke here and there, until you broke the silence by choking on your orange juice giggling at his comment. After that, they all joined in on teasing Avery whose face was a bright red. Tom made eye contact with you, sending you a playful wink making you roll your eyes.

October 7th, 1944. Honeydukes. 11:25 am.

You snorted as you caught sight of Avery and Nott fighting over the last Sugar Quill, pressing against the tall brunette who was looking down at you a teasing glint in his eyes. The trip to Hogsmeade was a success, you had wanted to boys to forget about their plans for a day, and just go back to being their playful selves and it worked. Lestrange, Rosier and Mulciber had gotten around to buying out most of Honeydukes. Leaving them to amuse themselves to toss Acid Pops at one another, their laughter infectious.

“Tom?” He hummed in response, pressing his hand on the small of your back. The taller man lead you out of Honeydukes, the cold air slapping against your face, giggling as Nott was holding the Sugar Quill proudly in his mouth as the blonde sulked, “I was wondering if we could hang out tonight, like how we used to.” You flashed a warm smile tugging your jacket around you tightly as the cold air threatened to knock you over.

“Sweetheart,” At the sound of that pet name leaving his mouth you tensed up, knowing he only used it when he needed things from you chewing on your bottom lip, “As much I love spending time with you, we have things to do. We can’t keep pushing back the schedule, once we do we’ll never catch up.”

“Tom, please? I just want one night of us being normal. Just you and me, in your room- talking all night like we used to… and I promise, I won’t ask for anything ever again.” Tom faltered for a moment, his eyes closing as he mulled it over turning around on his heels to face you. His large hands cupped your cheeks, tugging you closer your breath hitching.

“You know I’d do anything for you. Anything-” Your eyes flickered down to stare at his lips, making him tense up “Okay. Just... just tonight. And after that-.” He breathed out, his dark eyes piercing your soul moving to release his grip on you. You placed your hands over his, keeping him in place swallowing down your nerves.

“I know, I promise. I won’t ask you for anything else,” You sighed, pressing a kiss to the inside of his palm feeling his grip tighten on you, “Come on, we don’t want to waste the rest of the day away.”

October 12th, 1944. The Room of Requirement. 12:06 am.

A loud cry left your lips, crumbling to the floor feeling your body spasming at the pain coursing through your body. Your fingernails were digging into your palms, blood oozing from how hard you were squeezing your eyesight going hazy. The veins in your neck were protruding, as you let out blood curdling screams into the soundproof room. Tom was stood off to the side his face free of any emotion, watching his best friend getting tortured by Avery whose eyes were full of tears. The brunette had ordered the blonde to do this task to prove his loyalty to him, knowing Avery had a soft spot for you.

“Stop,” The blonde instantly dropped his wand dropping down to his knees from the amount of energy it took for him to send the cruciatus curse, his hands shaking, “Get up, Avery.” The blonde helped himself off of the floor, wiping any sort of emotion off of his face staring down at your crumpled body tears streaming down your flushed cheeks. Even though he had lowered his wand, you could still feel every sting and every prickle of your body.

“Sir,”

“You’re free to leave.”

After several moments of silence, trying to regain your breath as well as attempting to wrap your mind around what had just happened. The entire time you had been friends with Tom, he had never laid a single hand on you. Every time one of his followers tried to cause you any sort of harm he would end up leaving them bruised beyond recognition. This year he had been extremely distant, but you didn’t think that would change anything between either of you.

Not like this.

“Doll... let me help you,” His cold hands helped your burning figure off of the floor and onto a nearby couch, his hands never leaving yours even as you tried to put as much distance between the two of you whining with every move, “Here, drink this. It will help rid of the pain.”

He took a hold of your face, parting your lips as he poured the crimson potion into your mouth your cracked lips wrapping around the cool glass feeling your body practically melt as the effects of the potion instantly began to take effect. One of the many things you were grateful for; Tom’s expertise in Potions.

“Thank you...” You choked out, leaning your head back onto the soft cushions wanting nothing more than to get out of the forsaken room. Even with your eyes closed you felt the burning stare of Tom, shifting so you could face him opening your eyes staring up at him, “Tom. I can feel you staring,”

“I’m aware,” He smiled softly, reaching out to tuck a loose strand away from your sweaty face his heart breaking the slightest bit as he thought back to your ear piercing screams and your thrashing body. He swallowed back his guilt, leaning in to make himself comfortable. “I didn’t want to hurt you-”

“-bullshit.” You scoffed out, trying to ignore the glint in his dark eyes keeping your face stoic, “You know you have full control over your actions, Tom.”

“No. I don’t. I did this without thinking of you, only thinking of Avery proving to me he would do anything I ordered him to without hesitating.”

“Is that all I am to you, Tom? I thought that I meant more to you, that I was a little more than just a fucking doll-”

You had managed to sit up properly, shoving your finger into his chest to show your anger.

“For fucks sake-” The Slytherin boy rolled his eyes at your words, his hands cupping your cheeks pressing his lips against yours catching you entirely off guard.

You knew you should have shoved him off and smacked him across the face but you couldn’t ignore the way he made you feel. His lips moving perfectly in sync with yours. Everything in you felt right, like the stars had aligned. Feeling your heart swell as you allowed his scent to infiltrate your body.

His toned arms moving to hold onto your hips, pulling you closer as your arms wrapped around his neck deepening the kiss.

You feel nothing but pure ecstasy.

A slight flutter in your chest as you felt his cold hands tighten their grip on you.

Tom had never felt anything like this with any of the girls he had slept with. For the first time in his life, he felt something. He didn’t know what it was, but whatever it was, he didn’t ever want it to end. Being wrapped up in your touch, and your warmth he forgot about everything but you. Tom had never in his life felt his mind this quiet before.

He didn’t think about his followers.

The horcruxes.

About how he had deliberately had sent one of his own to cause you harm.

He just felt you.

And that was enough... at least for a moment.

“Tom... you don’t have to do this. We can leave Hogwarts, and then- and then find a place for us to be. Away from the Orphanage. Away from everyone,” His breath came out in shallow breaths, wanting nothing more than to agree with your words. Your doe eyes were looking into whatever he had left of his soul, fighting the urge shaking his head, ripping himself away from you his wand in hand as he shakily let out a breath. “Tom?”

“I may not know what love is, doll, but whatever it is, I imagine it to feel like what touching you and kissing you feels like.” Your heart clenched, knowing there was a but coming, “But I can’t give this up. I have come so far. I’m so close. So close.” Your eyes clamped shut, gripping your wand as you let your head hang at his words. The sensation of tears making their way to your eyes once again washed over you, blinking away tears shaking your head.

“I understand...”

“I can’t have anymore distractions.” He whispered to himself, turning his back to you forcing you to get onto your feet shakily eyeing the brunette. Tom weighed the decisions over in his head, knowing one of them wouldn’t end as well as the other but he knew it would be the most effective.

“Tom-”

“Can you- can you do me one last favor?”

“Anything.”

A beat.

“Close your eyes and stand right there,” You willing shut your eyes, listening to the sound of Tom getting closer to you his warm lips pressing against yours lingering on you momentarily before shuffling backwards. A small smile was on your face, wanting nothing more than to bask in this moment forever.

Tom eyed your swaying form as you shifted your weight. His eyes scanned you head to toe, the way your hair was styled perfectly framing your face. Your breathtaking face, how you held yourself with your hands fiddling in front of you trying to memorize every single inch of your body down to the last freckle on your skin. “You know I care about you, doll. I always will. No matter what...”

“I know, T. But what does that have to do with-”

“I’m sorry, doll.”

“Sorry for what…- ”

“Tom?”

“Avada Kedavra” All you remembered was opening your eyes the second Tom had uttered the curse, your eyes locking together one last time before your once vibrant eyes grew dull your body crumbling onto the ground. The ghost of your smile was evident on your face, the corners of your lips turned up slightly as you laid there on the ground. Tom felt like every last strand of humanity grounding him was gone, as he kneeled down to caress your cheek leaning down to carefully unclasp the necklace from around your neck tucking it into his pocket. He closed your eyes with two of his fingers, standing up to his full height before making his way out of the Room of Requirement without a second glance back. His fingers fiddled with the necklace in his hand, the one that had been around your neck several seconds ago. Three down, four more to go, Tom thought to himself tightening his grip around the newfound horcrux briskly making his way to the Slytherin Common Room where his followers would be waiting.

send requests! i’m always up for writing anything, just send me a quick inbox and i’ll make sure to write it as quickly as possible. and if you have any suggestions or criticism, feel free to make it :))

a/n: thank you so much for this request! i’m sorry for taking so long, i recently found out i got hired for at my dream restaurant so i was busy taking care of that, but i hope you like it :’) lots of love!

Holding Hands With Shadows | Tom Riddle

Synopsis: Being the Minister of Magic was not easy for Tom, but you are always there to keep chaos from erupting. OR, you are Tom's assistant and the babysitter of the group and Tom finally confesses.

Pairing: Tom Riddle x Reader

Notes: Not canon compliant (sane!Tom, no Voldemort), Abraxas keeps insulting orphans, Y/N is tired (Knights of Walpurgis? More like Kids of Walpurgis)

You could almost feel the grey hairs sprouting from your head, and not even in a fun, attractive way either. It was a wonder you hadn't even thought about drafting up your letter of resignation until right now.

"Abraxas, you may not buy out that land to raise your peacocks. The Department of Care for Magical Children plan to use it for future projects."

Tom shoots you an amused look from across the room, lips quirked up into a smirk at your exasperated tone. The infuriating man was leaning back in his armchair, far too at ease, as you tried to restrain yourself from slamming your head through the table.

"Frankly, that just seems like a waste of good resources. I mean why do they need it so bad? Could they not just simply find another plot? After all, these children grew up in austere conditions, so they won't even miss it."

"Abraxas."

"Yes?"

"Get out."

"Excuse--"

"Now. Please."

The man looks over to his best friend for help, but Tom simply shrugs as if conceding that you were the one in charge.

"Fine. However, this conversation is far from over. I will see you both tonight, yes?"

"Of course. Safe travels, and please send Lady Malfoy my regards."

The man sends you a pleased nod before twirling on his heels, his cloak billowing dramatically. The door clicks shut behind him just as you drop your face into your hands.

"Stressed, darling?"

You huff and rub your forehead before answering with more bite than intended, "Perfectly fine".

The insufferable man, as unbothered as always, lets out a noise of amusement before slowly striding towards your desk. You slowly raise your head as his shadow falls over you, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"Anything I can do to help?"

"Yeah, fire off your best hex at me and put me out of my misery."

"Abraxas‘ dramatics has rubbed off on you, my love."

The pet name sends a shiver down your spine and you try your hardest to school your expression. You had grown up with Tom at the orphanage, which basically made you his closest confidant, friend, and ally. At times it felt like you were a breathing, judgmental diary to him.

You were privy to all that was bad and ugly in his life, so it was only right that you were by his side when he rose to power and suddenly had access to all the material goods in the world.

And to him--whatever he had, you had by extension.

Of course, you fought tooth and nail to get to where you were now, rebuking any effort Tom made to give you preferential treatment.

Everything would be fine if it weren't for your affections toward him. Growing up, he never expressed interest in pursuing a romantic relationship, he had only ever wanted to subvert the stereotypes and malice aimed at the both of you during your years at Hogwarts.

The closest thing to romance that you could associate Tom with was when he wooed Druella Rosier in sixth year with his signature smile and a kiss to her hand in order to siphon information about her father from her.

The poor girl was an inconsolable lump of misery after Tom got what he needed and tossed her aside like a used handkerchief.

Tom's always been romantically inept like that.

Your spiral of reminiscing didn't cease, not even when you and Tom showed up to Malfoy Manor for their annual ball later that night.

When would it be socially acceptable to turn tail and run?

"Assistant L/N! What a pleasure it is! Is the minister trekking about nearby?"

You spin from looking out the window and come face to face with an older man who you recognized from around the Department of Magical Games and Sports.

His vest hugged him tightly and only served to accentuate his red, puffy face.

Was he about to hit on you or try and kiss your ass so he could get acquainted with Tom?

Merlin. Did you have enough in your savings to retire yet?

"Good evening. I believe Tom is busy discussing foreign deals with Lord Greengrass."

"Ah yes, Cyrus Greengrass is quite ingenious. You and Minister Riddle were friends with him during school, yes?"

Your lip twitched at how casual he was addressing Cyrus. Cyrus would be disconcerted by the man's informality, but Abraxas would surely become vexed on his friend's behalf if he heard.

"Yes. We are childhood friends I suppose."

"Wonderful! Well I was coming to you because I'm sure you're aware that the rules for Quidditch are being tossed into the air. The Ministro di Magia in Italy is trying to--"

You started tuning him out and looked around the room for one of your friends, starting to sweat in the formal wear you had on.

Luckily, Tom caught your eye. Unfortunately, he had somehow rounded up all of your friends and they were all looking quite entertained at your expense.

"Sorry sir. If you'll excuse me, it seems that the Minister is in need of me."

Without waiting for a response, you chugged what was left in your champagne flute before practically stomping over to the circle of men.

As you neared, Tom stepped out to welcome you, encircling a hand around your waist like it was the most casual thing in the world.

"Good evening boys. Thank you for throwing me out to the wolves."

"Y/N! So I assume this would be a bad time to try and renegotiate the land you're throwing away to those orphans."

Bloody hell, he was forgetting that he was saying that in front of two orphans.

Without answering Abraxas, you turned to Tom and let out a sigh, "I'm handing in my letter of resignation tomorrow, I promise it".

The hand around your waist tightened ever so slightly and you ignored the amused looks your friends sent each other, having picked up on your little school girl crush on Tom eons ago.

Damn them.

"Now, now, don't make hasty decisions. I could simply smite Abraxas‘ peacocks and the problem would be solved."

Abraxas let out an undignified noise while Parkinson and Bulstrode snorted into their drinks. Cyrus patted Abraxas‘ shoulder in feign pity, but he knew that Tom would likely make good on his threat if you asked him to.

"I hate you all. How is it that even after all these years, I still feel like an underpaid, underappreciated nanny."

Abraxas looked offended at your words and quickly reassured you, "We love you though. Underpaid, yes. Underappreciated? Never."

Your banter with the group went on for a while longer and as the night started coming to a close, Tom steered you away from peering eyes and towards a vacant balcony.

"Are you alright, darling?"

You only nodded tiredly to the man, leaning your elbows on the railing. You rubbed your eyes as you could sense the man behind you shifting in uncertainty (which was so uncharacteristic of him that you had half the mind to pull out your wand and threaten him to tell you where the real Tom was).

A few beats of peaceful silence pass before you're jumping up at the feeling of hands coming to hug your waist, a hard chest pressing against your back.

"Tom--?"

His chin gently rested atop of your shoulder, loosening his grip slightly to give you the opportunity to push him away.

"Are you unusually more clueless nowadays or are you purposely torturing me?"

"You're going to have to elaborate. Did you accidentally kill someone or do something I would disapprove of? This affection is quite sudden."

"But you don't hate it. Quite the contrary."

"That confidence of yours is going to get you into trouble one day."

"If it's you, I don't mind the trouble."

You don't bother responding, but your silence was satisfactory enough for him.

Clearing your throat, you awkwardly move your hands to rest atop of his, patting them gently.

It felt like the world spun on its head and was reborn anew before Tom spoke again, "Marry me."

His words threw you for a loop and you sputtered a choked, "What?"

"Marry me. I mean we're practically married anyway. You flounder around and make sure the boys are okay, and I rein them in so they don't blow up the country and make me lose face."

"Yes. We are a true dynamic duo."

Your dry response has his chest rumbling in contained laughter, tilting his head and gently knocking it against your cheek.

"We're the parents of the group, haven't you noticed? Abraxas asked me a few days ago if we would end their suffering and ours by just wedding each other."

"I was not aware we were even dating."

"Dating--being partners-- would not even come close to what we are. Don't you feel the same? We are in sync in everything we do. Even hundreds of miles apart, I breathe as you breathe, my heart beats in rhythm with yours, my mind does not simply revolve around you--it is completely infused with your every essence. It is a wonder we aren't already married with three cats."

"Three cats," Tom despised cats, "But...yes, I feel the same. You know I do. I thought that...well, I thought you weren't interested in romance."

"I am interested in pursuing anything and everything with you. Only you. If you'll have me, of course."

Your laughter comes out wet and heavy, filled with relief and disbelief. You turn your gaze upward and watch as the stars blink down on you, permeated across the sky the same way love begins to flow through your veins.

"It was always you, Tom. Thank you for telling me."

Tom pulls back briefly before gently turning you around to face him.

He leans down and nuzzles his nose against yours, eyes conveying a tender emotion that you've never seen until now. But now you knew, every time in the past when his eyes flickered across your face and softened, it was out of love.

"Tell me you'll marry me."

You don't give him a verbal response, but as you press your lips to his, he knows that domesticity together is all the both of you have ever needed.

"Tom...does this mean we have to make Abraxas the best man now?"

"Don't be silly, he'll give us no choice in the matter."

(And give them no choice, he did)

masterlist

‘Aren’t we just terrified?’- Tom Marvolo Riddle Headcannons!!

• In full trust, he thinks that love is non existent and isn’t a true feeling. Just something that muggles had made up and has somehow fallen into the hands of the wizarding world.

• If he was a song, one of the songs that he’d be is Rosyln by Bon Iver & St. Vincent. But instead at being at its normal pace, it would definitely be the slower version of the song. Add rain, and you’ve got yourself Tom Riddle.

• Not even joking, it took years and I mean YEARS to make Tom fall for you in the slightest way. Now don’t be fooled though, just because you guys are together doesn’t mean you get treated any differently. Sorry.

• He has actual diaries that he will write in and will keep them locked up for years. He has them locked up and hidden so well, you’d have to demolish Hogwarts just to find them, or solve an extremely hard task to find them.

• Surprisingly he smells like the way the air smells after it rains, morning dew, coffee, old books and a cologne of a clean scent.

• Again with the rain stuff, he is the rain. He smells like it, his emotions match up perfectly and everything. He likes the rain as well. He likes to listen to it while studying, reading or writing.

Professor!Tom Riddle would 100% fuck you on his desk for multiple reasons. You did well on a test of his? A reward for trying so hard! You’re doing poorly in his class, he’s making you count how many times he had edged you within the past hour. Had to deal with a disrespectful student or parent? He’ll bend you over his desk as he digs your hips into the wood.

Amortentia - T. Riddle

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Pairing : Tom Riddle x Slytherin! Reader

Warnings : Tom is not Voldy, he’s his son, and this is set during the Golden Trio, so, not very movie accurate

Genre : Fluff, soulmates implied, or, where an unexpected scent comes out of an all-too-famous potion

Part Two

Masterlists

Requests are OPEN

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The potions classroom was alive with the chatter of students. Everyone was buzzing with the anticipation of their next project. Snape had declared that, on that day, they would be brewing Amortentia. None of the students failed to share their excitement and anticipation for the highly known potion, some even hoping to discover their one true love through its scent.

Y/N, however, had no such expectations. All she wanted was to brew the potion and get the grade.

Cauldrons sat in front of them in pairs, and she expected to be working with the Gryffindor next to her, yet, Snape seemed to have other plans.

“Students, I will be calling off your names in pairs, they will be your partner for the project,” he spoke in his monotone voice. Y/N was stressed; she prayed she wouldn’t get paired off with someone who would potentially hinder her grade.

After reading out the names of half the class, she heard her name being called along with “Tom Riddle.” The classroom fell silent. Her heart stopped. They had interacted here and there and she didn’t care that he was the Dark Lord’s son, but, he was so intimidating that the girl couldn’t help but feel nervous. She watched as he gathered his things and moved into the previously occupied seat next to her.

He gave a curt nod, barely sparing her a glance. She caught a whiff of his cologne, damn, she thought, he even smells good.

After being told to begin, the pair worked silently. They both knew what was required of them for the potion, and both pulled their weight. She was quite happy they weren’t speaking much, not because she didn’t like him, but, because she didn’t want to embarrass herself by saying something stupid.

They added the final ingredients to the cauldron and watched as the liquid turned a bright pink. They waited patiently as Snape walked by and examined their work, giving a small hum of approval. “Twenty points to Slytherin.” She couldn’t help the smile that graced her face, making eye contact with Tom and giving an appreciative nod.

After all the potions were brewed, some faring better than others, came the time to smell the potions. As she leant in, all she could smell was Tom’s cologne. It smelt of parchment and leather, a combination she found to be quite enchanting. She was, however, annoyed of his closeness as she attempted to smell the potion. She looked up quickly, about to ask him to step back, when she saw the empty chair next to her. Tom wasn’t next to her, no, he was standing at least six feet away, speaking with Professor Snape.

She was shocked. It couldn’t be, could it? Why was she smelling none other than Tom Riddle in her Amortentia. As if sensing the topic of her thoughts, Tom’ eyes drifted onto hers, locking her in a trance. He seemed to understand what was happening and the source of her shock, yet seemed entirely unfazed by it.

Her eyes didn’t stray from his as he walked to their shared table and took a whiff of the Amortentia. Again, he seemed completely unfazed by what he smelt, eyes never leaving hers.

Finally, their trance was broken as Snape dismissed the class. Her feet felt as heavy as bricks as she made her way out of the dungeon and towards her friend’s common room, trying to process everything that happened.

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“Oh, come on! We both know what this means!” Y/N was currently sprawled on her best friend Hermione’s bed, listening as she tried convincing the girl that Tom Riddle was her soulmate, according to the Amortentia. As Hermione put it, she was just “in denial.”

“I don’t know, Mione. It was probably my mind playing tricks on me! Plus, he didn’t even mention it nor seem fazed by it. He most likely smelt someone else, or, no one at all.”

A pillow smacked her in the head. “You know that’s not true!”

A groan spilled out of her, “I can’t think about this right now, I’m going for a walk.”

She thought sneaking into the Gryffindor common room and speaking to her most level-headed friend would help ease her thoughts, but she left feeling worse than before.

It’s not that she doesn’t like Tom, it’s that she wonders whether she’s what he wants; will he like her too? Probably not, she thought, Tom Riddle doesn’t like anyone.

“Going somewhere?” A voice she dreaded spoke. Turning around, she came face to face with the subject of her anxieties.

His face was stern, albeit beautiful, and she quickly realized how late past curfew it had gotten.

She stumbled over her words, attempting to find a good excuse yet coming up with none.

His eyes scanned her face as she stared like a deer in headlights. “I’ll walk you back to the dungeons,” he said after a good minute or two of the two gawking at each other, his tone leaving no room for question.

As she turned to walk, she felt his hand ghost over the small of her back, summoning a blush to her face.

“Are we going to talk about it?” He broke the silence.

“About what?” She waited a second before she spoke, although he knew she would know what he meant.

“I smelt your perfume in the potion, you smelt my cologne. We both know what that means.”

She kept quiet for a second, racking her brain for the right words, afraid of making the conversation more awkward than it was already. “Yes, we do. But, is it what you want it to mean?” She waited a beat. “I mean, how do you feel about it?”

“I’ll admit, I am surprised.” She searched his face, worry seeping into her head at his words. “And, although I’m surprised, it doesn’t mean I’m unhappy about it.”

She stopped and turned to face him, “you’re not?”

“No,” he said, his tone sincere, “you’re smart, kind, and beautiful. I must admit, I am glad it’s you.” He turned and kept walking, her feet rushing to catch up to him.

She couldn’t believe it. She knew all the rumors about this boy, people thought him cold and cruel; they judge him because he’s quiet, they don’t know him. Albeit, neither does she, but his words don’t come off as ‘cruel’ or ‘cold.’

“Wait, so, what does this mean?” She asked just as they reached the entrance to the Slytherin common room.

“It means that we have a date this weekend at Hogsmeade. Have a good night, Y/N,” he spoke with a soft smile.

As she walked into the common room, she couldn’t help the smile that graced her face, for the first time feeling grateful for Professor Snape’s class.

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hello! I'd like to request a Tom Riddle oneshot, maybe a part 2 to Amortentia? But if you don't want that, I have an idea where Tom sees y/n as an academic rival but they get partnered yet realize that they enjoy each other's company.I only request that it's a ravenclaw reader hehe and it's up to you to make it more fluffy hehe, advance thank you!!

Potions Class - T. Riddle

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Pairing : Tom Riddle x Ravenclaw! Reader

Warnings : Cursing

Genre : Fluff, or, where Tom and reader are forced to work together after years of rivalry

A/N : I saw this request and got to work immediately! I hope I did your vision justice! And, I am working on Amortentia part two so I will let you know when that’s out <3

Masterlist

Requests are Open

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“Y/N, you’re with Riddle for this one.”

Her professor’s words made her heart stop. No, she thought, it can’t be. It’s no secret that Tom Riddle is her biggest rival. The Slytherin has been a thorn on her side ever since first year, the two competing for the highest grades possible.

Of course, if you asked her, she’d say she’s the best of the two, and that Tom Riddle is nothing but a stuck up piece of sh-

“Well, I knew the day would come when we would have to work together at some point.” Tom Riddle’s aggravatingly smooth voice jolted her from her thoughts.

“Yes, I suppose so,” she spoke with reluctance. She watched as the boy sat next to her, and she galked at his nonchalance. “Does this not bother you?”

“Very much so, but nothing I can do about it. Well, other than show you how to correctly brew a potion.” He struck a nerve and he knew it.

“I know how to brew a potion, thank you very much. My excellent grade in this class proves it.”

“Whatever you say, darling.” The nickname brought a heat to her cheeks, her mind overrun with thoughts of how devastatingly irritating Tom Riddle was.

The pair got to work in silence, only speaking when reciting the recipe from memory, or asking for an ingredient from the other. As they worked, Y/N found herself oddly at ease. She had to admit, they worked well together.

As they waited for the cauldron to boil, he broke the silence. “What are your thoughts on the Astronomy project?”

She was surprised at first, but answered honestly. “I thought it easy. Not exactly necessary seeing as it was information we both already knew, but I found it enjoyable.” He huffed out a small laugh at her words, an action which took her completely off-guard.

“Yes, I thought it enjoyable as well. Although, I am quite positive I got a better grade than you,” he spoke with a teasing smirk.

“You did not!” She exclaimed with a laugh.

“Did too. Denial is not a good look on you, dear raven.” Once again, she was surprised at seeing this side of Tom, the two so busy competing and never actually getting to know each other. Yet she was enjoying their easy banter, her affection for him certainly growing as the minutes ticked by.

“Alright, just add the basil and stir, and we should be fine.” He spoke as she did what he instructed. However, they were both startled when the potion began bubbling and overflowing from the cauldron.

“What did you do?” Tom exclaimed.

“I did what you said!”

“No, this clearly is not what I said.” At his words, she turned to stare at him in disbelief. How dare he accuse her of messing up the potion? Yet, as the pair made eye contact, they couldn’t help but burst out into laughter, drawing the attention from their classmates.

“Well,” he spoke after three minutes of uncontrollable laughter, “it seems we have managed to fuck this up royally.”

“It seems we have,” the smile was glued on her face.

“What do you say we get together to study, we clearly need the work.” She paused at his words, searching his eyes to decipher a hidden motive to his offer.

“I’d like that,” she spoke after she couldn’t find one.

“Great.” He began cleaning up their workspace.

“Great,” she whispered back.

Tom Riddle is definitely not what she thought.

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Under the Stars - T. Riddle

Pairing : Tom Riddle x Slytherin!Reader

Warnings : Slight use of Y/N, use of the word ‘damn’

Genre : Fluff, or, in which reader and Tom go on a much unexpected date

A/N : Part two of Amortentia is here! Thank you to @vivisandg @cats-and-sheep and @kenobi-baby for requesting a part two! I really am proud of this, so I hope you guys like it as much as I do! Also, two posts in one day, I feel so proud 🥲

Part 1

Masterlist

Requests are OPEN

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It had been a week since Y/N’s fate was revealed to her, a fate which led her straight to none other than Tom Marvolo Riddle. They had talked now and then, he would wait for her and walk her to class, but she felt awkward around him, as though her lips were sown together by the string of her shyness. He noticed this, of course, yet he still put in the effort to talk to her, a fact she greatly appreciated; one which would make butterflies express their wings in her stomach.

It wasn’t until she sat in the library studying, when an opportunity for more arose. As she flipped through her Charms textbook, a folded piece of parchment fell onto her lap.

Confused, she glanced around, yet the library appeared empty. She plucked the note from her lap, and gasped as she read it.

‘Meet me in the Astronomy Tower at 10.

Your dearest,

Tom M. Riddle.’

She didn’t know what to think. He wanted her to break curfew to meet him, but, as she thought about it, she couldn’t help but be curious as to the nature of the meeting. Is this a date? Should she dress nice? Damn him for being so ambiguous in his note.

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Her hands shook as she ascended the steps to the Astronomy Tower. She didn’t know what to expect, nor what would be waiting for her. Her fingers tugged her coat tighter around her frame, a shield against the cold and the nerves.

As she went up the final step, her eyes found the back of Tom Riddle, his figure turned away from her and leaned against the railing. What caught her eye, however, was the hundreds of candles which littered the floor.

He turned to face her, her gasp alerting him of her presence. She was left speechless as her eyes adjusted to the tiny flames, his eyes trained on her and her reaction.

“Do you like it?” He asked after a moment.

“Yes, this is,” she took a beat to find the words, “it’s beautiful,” she spoke as she stepped closer to him.

“I’m glad.” He held out his arm to her, which she gladly took, as they settled on the railing of the tower, his grip on her steady to give her a sense of safety.

The pair stood in silence for a couple minutes, both enjoying each other’s presence too much to speak.

“You know, I- I once read a book in which there was this boy who was in love with this girl, and she tells him that if he wants to be with her, he has to catch a falling star for her, and so he spends the rest of his life trying to catch a star, but, every time they reach the earth, they shatter. And, in the end, she marries someone else and he dies while chasing stars. It’s quite tragic, but, every time I look at the stars, I can’t help but think about how they represent his devotion and love for her, yet it will never be enough, cause every time, it shatters.” She turns to look at Tom, and finds him staring intently at her. “Anyway, that just came to mind.” He kept staring, the corners of his mouth turning up. “What?” She asked, becoming self-conscious by his staring.

He shook his head, “nothing, you’re just,” he paused, “you’re incredible.”

Heat rushed to her cheeks, and she had to break his gaze to keep from melting in front of him. It had only been a week since their discovery, yet she felt as though she had known this introverted boy her whole life. He was nothing like she expected him to be. And she loved it.

“Thank you.”

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The rest of their night was spent talking; they shared anecdotes and discussed literature, and the seconds turned into minutes and the minutes turned into hours.

They found themselves sitting in the middle of the candles, facing each other and laughing constantly.

Once a comfortable silence fell over the two, Tom felt compelled to speak. “I want to ask you something. You are absolutely in your right to say no, I respect you and your answer.”

She began to get nervous at his words, wondering what on earth could be so important for him to word that way. He was always so well-spoken, something she deeply admired, however found intimidating in the moment.

“I would like to take you out. On a date. Again, you can say no. I know it’s only been a week since we began to get to know each other, however, I can’t stop thinking about you ever since that class. It’s as though you have enchanted me, and I welcome it with open arms. I want to court you, if you’d do me the honor.” His words melted her heart as though he was the sun and she was the snow. She was sure she was falling for this boy, and she didn’t want any parachute to soften her landing.

“I would love that,” her words were like honey to him, her soft hand covering his. He took her fingers in his, bringing them to his lips, leaving what can only be described as a most gentle touch, and moving them to his chest.

Serenity took over the two. As he committed her features to memory, he thought he would gladly spend the rest of his life putting together the pieces of a fallen star if it would make her smile.

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