#Tom riddle x fem! reader

[coryosbaby]

Mascara || T. Riddle

Fandom: ‘Harry Potter’

Pairing: Young! Tom Riddle x fem! Ravenclaw! Reader

｡.｡ ♡ Content warning . Public sex, praise & degradation, cum play, sub! Reader, dom! Tom

Notes: set in modern day Hogwarts. I never thought i’d want to fuck Voldemort but here we are.

Your feet patter softly against the tile floors of Hogwarts, a book clutched tightly in your arms as you make your way towards the school’s library. It’s a rainy night, incredibly quiet and empty. The other students are at dinner, and you’ve decided to skip out to study for your OWLs. When you open the big wooden doors to the library, the smell of printed ink and old pages invites you further in.

The first thing you notice, when you close the doors behind you and take sight of the room, is that the librarian, Madam Pince, is no where to be found. She must be on her break.

The second thing you notice is the boy sitting in the darkest corner of the room.

You know of the familiar brunette— of course you do. Who wouldn’t? Tom Riddle is a popular slytherin well known for his cunningness, his intelligence, his ability to speak native tongues— and sometimes, his temper. A ravenclaw yourself, you try to steer clear of him. Slytherins usually don’t take politely to anyone outside of their house. Not to mention the fact that you scored the top of your class, with him coming in close second. You suspect that he hates you for that.

He catches your gaze, brown eyes with the resemblance of a serpent. He looks back down at his book, seeming bored.

You let out a breath of air.

You slide your book into the return bin, timidly moving to the shelf about Potions. Snape has been really hassling you lately on your grades, and you really need to turn your B+ into a perfect A. Your fingertips skim over the leathered binds, reading title after title. A voice behind you makes you jump.

“If you’re studying for Snape’s final, I’d recommend ‘Advanced Potion Making’. It will tell you all you need to know.”

His voice is an angelic lilt, though you know that is not in any way what he resembles. The fact that he’s helping you stumps you into utter confusion, and heat creeps up your neck. You nod to him as you begin searching for the book.

To no avail. Your eyes search every bind, every word, but your focus has been diluted because of Tom speaking to you. He sighs, almost annoyed.

He appears beside you, much to your surprise. You nervously bite your lip as he finds the exact book he recommended and pushes it into your hands.

“Chapter nine. I would’ve thought a girl of your ranking in our class would know this already.”

Your brows furrow, embarrassment coursing through you as he sits back down and resumes his tasks. You nervously fumble with the book.

“Thank you.” You reply, because you had been taught proper manners. He scoffs, flicking through the pages of his book. You can’t read the title, though the cover is quite off put ish and dark. Perhaps he had snuck into the restricted section.

“Don’t.”

You frown, though your mind is peaking with curiosity. He seems rude, but he was trying to help you. Maybe there’s something nice under there, after all. Your body is stiff as you sit across from him at the table, silently pleading to God that the boy across from you won’t put a nasty hex on you.

“You don’t have to be rude, you know.”

It slips out of your lips, quiet and unsure. Tom’s eyes narrow at you.

“And as well as that, you don’t have to sit across from me.”

“Perhaps I want to. Perhaps you need a friend.”

“A friend?” He chuckles dryly, his gaze travelling down to your robes. You try to ignore the heat creeping between your legs. “We aren’t going to be friends.”

His insinuation is thick, dangerous. Your heart pounds out of your chest at this unexpected turn of your study hour. You gulp, looking down at the pages.

“Very well then. But since I’ve already sat down, I might as well continue my book here.”

“Or we could continue this conversation in my dorm room.”

He says it smoothly, with no fear or utmost insecurity.

“What?” You blanch, stuttering on your syllables. Tom smirks.

“A smart girl like you, and you can’t even comprehend a single sentence,” he says, his body beginning to move out of his chair. “‘S pathetic, really…”

You breath hitches as his tall form towers over you. Your fingertips grasp the sides of your chair as he leans in close.

“Tom,” you start, warningly. He quirks a brow.

“No?” He questions, and then after a moment, staring into your doe eyes, it dawns on him. His mouth forms into a grin. “Oh, you want it here, don’t you? You want it right here.”

His lips brush just inches over your pouty lips, and you wonder how in the hell you got into this situation and why this slytherin boy is making such a sudden move on you. But knowing Tom, it’s probably out of boredom. Out of the desire for a hook up.

You don’t mind it. Not really, not anymore, because all your protests are ripped away from you when he presses his lips to yours. It’s not tender or sweet, it’s full of sharp teeth and unfiltered lust. His hands rest on your chin, gripping your head so you can’t escape his kiss— can’t escape him.

Your tongue is about to graze his lips when he pulls away. His fingers grasp your shoulder and pull you up to your feet. You stumble, your legs shaky from just a couple of kisses. You gasp when he spins you around and presses your face against one of the nearest bookshelves. His big hands wrap around your wrists and hold them behind your back.

“I don’t want to hear any complaints from you. Do you understand me?” He whispers, his hands reaching down to lift up your robes. “If I do, I’ll leave you here drenched, your clothes gone, with your holes freshly fucked and on display for the entire school to see. Do you understand me?”

You nod instantly. You know that these aren’t empty threats; when Tom says he’s going to do something, he’ll do it.

When he pulls up your robes, taking in the sight of your pretty pink thong, he lets out a sharp breath.

“Prepared, weren’t you?”

You let out a whine, knowing that no, this wasn’t intentional. Tom just caught you on a specific type of day. But looking on it now, maybe the universe was being in your favor when you decided to pick out the flimsy undergarment.

Tom slips the hem of your robes into your hands.

“Hold it.” He commands, and you’re quick to comply.

His hardness presses against you, clothed still but his robes are lifted so he can rut against you in his briefs. It isn’t long before he’s pulling them down past his thighs, his cock sprinting up into the air as he places himself against you once again. You can’t help but drip with need, canting your hips back against him. His cock presses in between the seam of your ass, and you rub against him like a bitch in heat.

And just like a bitch in heat, you purr.

“Tommy..” you let out, and his grip on your hips tighten. “Please?”

He scoffs at the nickname, though his bottom lip is caught roughly between his teeth and he’s trying to contain himself. He wraps his hand around his awaiting length, parts your thighs with the other, and slides his dick up against your throughly aroused pussy.

He’s warm, sticky. You wish you could’ve seen him before this, seen that thing that feels oh so heavy between your legs, but it’ll have to wait. Hopefully, there will be a next time.

When he slides in, it stretches you obscenely. This isn’t your first time, but there’s a burning sensation as he enters you. He’s got the perfect amount of thickness and length to pull a moan deep from your throat.

He doesn’t start slow. His hips smack against yours at a rapid pace, small grunts leaving his silky lips as he uses you like a common whore. Your hands grip your robes and the bookshelf at the same time, trying to keep steady as Tom fills you to the brim. He noses along your jaw and leaves wet, open kisses there. You mewl when he bites down harshly and sucks a mark into your skin.

“Such a tight little cunt you have,” Tom breathes, his fingertips bruising your hips. “Look at you, such a slut for my cock. Does it feel good? Tell me, tell me how it feels.”

Your thighs squeeze him, your mouth gaping open in utter ecstasy. Your words are caught in your throat, but Tom is quick to force them out of you with a spank to your ass. You moan, your forehead pressing against the bookshelf’s wooden edge.

“Yes! Yes, it feels so good…” you slur, entranced by the spice of his cologne and the feeling of his girthy length splitting you open. He grunts, bucking his hips into you with vigor.

“And I bet it’s the best you’ve had, isn’t it? All those other boys can’t do it for you. I’m the only one that fucks you this good.”

It’s true, and when his cockhead hits a spot deep inside you that has you keening, your legs quiver and your brain turns to jelly. Tom’s fingers place themselves around your neck and squeeze so hard that your vision blurs at the edges, and you’re enthralled by the fear that courses through your veins. He’s playing your life in his hands like it’s a shiny new toy.

He fucks you like a madman as you gasp and beg for air. Tears spill out of your eyes, salty and wet and Tom takes notice.

“Crying?” He sneers, pounding you so hard that you’re sure the bookshelf will leave bruises as it presses against you. “You’re pathetic. A pathetic, filthy little girl.”

“Mmmhhh..” you cry out. Your eyes roll back as you utter incoherent sounds. He growls.

“Do you want me to cum inside you?” And then, with a harsh grip on your hair, “I want to hear you say it. Beg me. Beg me to fill you, whore.”

Your eyes shut tight, and your hands clasp around his wrists as he loosens his grip on your throat.

“Please,” your voice is a gasp as you finally get oxygen unto your system. “Please, Tom, f-fill me up. Cum inside me.”

A small, throaty groan escapes his lips, and with one last desperate thrust he’s spilling balls deep inside your drooling cunt. His cum spills over the cusp of your used entrance, and when he’s done fucking it into you he pulls out with a sharp exhale.

You can feel his cum spill out of your raw fucked hole, the creamy fluid dribbling down your thigh and dripping onto the carpet below. Your clit throbs mercilessly, still devoid of any attention, but Tom is quick to put a stop to that. He drops to his knees, then, and it’s a surprising gesture that you didn’t expect. He doesn’t seem like the type to get on his knees for anyone, let alone you. But his tongue lolls out of his mouth as he spreads your knees and catches his cum into his awaiting mouth. He licks up your hole, circling your clit with practiced precision. You let out a guttural sound when you hear the obscene noises of the cum spilling out of you, along with Tom’s mouth slurping at your cunt vigorously. He works at you over and over, and you clench when you feel yourself nearing your high. It’s almost embarrassingly quick, but you’ve been denied so long that you need to do it and you need to do it now.

“I’m going to…” you gasp out, as he rubs circles into your clit. He lets out a loud grunt against you, his mouth working harder. “I’m cumming—god, I’m cumming!”

Your orgasm washes over you, hits you like a tidal wave in the middle of an incredibly large ocean. Tom works his tongue and lets you ride out your high, and he sighs and pulls away from your pussy when you come down.

He’s gathered enough arousal to fill his mouth generously, and he kisses you flat on the lips. His tongue slides against yours and you can taste your shared arousal on him. You whimper, licking desperately at his salty spend, and it’s messy and sloppy and absolutely depraved. His teeth nip at you as you swallow it all down.

You’re dizzy, on shaky legs. You turn around, finally getting to see Tom’s face coated in your slick and his cum. He grins at you, and something twists in your gut so primal you feel you might burst.

“Better get to studying, Miss Y/L/N,” he says. “It’d be a shame if this missed study session made you fail your OWLs.”

#bunny writes ͟͟͞☆ #Tom riddle #Tom riddle x reader #Tom riddle x fem! reader #Tom riddle smut #Tom riddle fanfic #young! Tom riddle #Harry Potter #Harry Potter and the chamber of secrets #harry potter franchise #Harry Potter blurb #Harry Potter fanfic #Voldemort

[distantdarlings]

NO ONE LIKE YOU // t. riddle

RATING: R / 2.1K WORDS

Tom Riddle x Fem Reader Insert

+ SUMMARY - *Requested, based on this* (Thank you to @orphicmortala for the request!) After having a very difficult meeting with his followers, Tom decides to take some frustrations out on you. He ends up getting a little too enthusiastic. (Smut, Angst)

+ WARNINGS - SMUT! (For the first part), piv - no protection, hair pulling, oral - m!receiving, mention of blood, Tom is kind of mean, rough sex, (very slight) pain play, dom!Tom, Reader eventually uses safe word, language, not fully proofread, fem reader (lmk if I missed anything)

+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -

Animal - Troye Sivan

- - -

The final light of day flashed through the Head Boy’s dorm room. It cast a honeyed glow around you for only a moment before pitching the whole world into blackness. When the sun disappeared behind the mountains along the edge of Hogwarts, it was always a very quick descent to dark. It wasn’t very gradient, just sudden.

Almost as soon as the light had dissipated, the door flew open, nearly hitting the stone wall behind it. You shot up from the bed you were lounging on. A chilled wind blew in from the hallway, sending wild flickers through the fire in the corner.

“Tom,” you breathed.

The man in question stood in the doorway, fuming silently. His jaw was clenched and ticking, his eyes dark and frenzied. You swallowed thickly at the animalistic energy pouring off of his body. What had happened?

He slammed the door shut behind him, a slight flinch shocking through your body at the loud sound. He stomped across the room, barely paying you any mind. He came to a stop in front of the blazing fireplace. His hands began roughly ripping some papers. You got to your feet.

“Tom?” you called gently, waltzing over to him. Your hands reached out to press a comforting touch to him when he turned abruptly.

“What?” he growled. You stepped back, dropping your hands immediately. He had never looked at you like this before. The fire in his eyes nearly reflected the blaze within the stone in front of you.

“I–I’m sorry, I was just…”

“Darling, I’m sorry,” he sighs, blowing air through his nose. “It’s been a rough day.”

“What happened?” you asked, stepping closer to him again. You wanted to comfort him. A small groan leaves him as he tosses the remains of the shredded papers into the flames. Your eyes flickered to the fiery confetti, wondering what it once had been.

“What was that?” you ask, finally coming to place your hands on his shoulders.

“Nothing, do not worry yourself with matters of the Knights,” he whispered.

“What can I do to help?” you ask, staring up at him with such quiet adoration. His eyes found yours, basking in the innocence pooled within them. He could hardly bear to see you so concerned with him, especially when his anger came from such a vile source. Those pathetic boys tried to impress him by insisting they’d found new information for him and presented it before the whole group. They’d laid out more information of his lowly bringing-up, discussing new details about his mother they may have found.

He’d slammed his fists on the table, demanding to know why they’d been looking into his family history. They had immediately snapped their jaws shut, unsure how to respond. Perhaps they’d thought he’d be happy with them for finding more information on his parents. He couldn’t care any less about his worthless parents. All he cared about was his plans. He thought that had been obvious, but apparently, these boys had thought otherwise. He was in a mind to completely expel them from the group and obliviate them.

“My love,” he whispered, placing a gentle but firm hand beneath her jaw. He’d never loved, and he never would. You knew this well and accepted it for what it was—you and Tom weren’t ‘dating,’ but he was yours, and you were his. It wasn’t necessarily love, but it was in your own way. You couldn’t really explain it, but you both felt it.

“I need you, darling,” he whispered against your ear, placing his lips to the skin there. You felt the electricity humming beneath his flesh. Your lips shuddered a bit in anticipation. You nodded, accepting him into you.

That was all he needed to roughly grab your face and press hot, fast kisses to you. He satiated his every need against your tongue, taking what he wanted. You sighed against his lips, feeling the way he shattered you and held you together.

He walked you back to his bed and let you fall down against it. He kept you pinned beneath his weight, his hands hungry and wanting. They gripped and spared you, leaving hard, peppered bruises in their wake. He was always rough with you, fucking and biting and choking. He didn’t make love, and you didn’t want him to. You’d come to him for the dark passion he exuded through his body. If you’d wanted something gentle, you’d have looked around Hufflepuff. That wasn’t an insult to your house, of course. You just knew exactly what you wanted.

His hands came up to rip the front of your shirt open, ignoring the way a button or two flung across the room. He’d get you a new shirt later. A low groan sounded in his throat as his fingers tightened around your breasts, kneading them with his long, deft fingers. He placed his face against your chest, inhaling deeply and pressing painful bruises on you. You whined at the feeling, beckoning him away from your pained skin.

“Shut up. I’ll do what I want,” he growled, continuing to mark you as painfully as before. His sharp teeth seared into your flesh, pulling blood to the surface and occasionally past it. When he finally pulled away, a small drop of bloodied saliva dripped from his lips as if in slow motion. You sighed at the visual, the heat beginning to pool rapidly between your legs.

He crawled up your body, quickly unbuckling and pushing his belt through the loops in his trousers. When it was free, he slid the button through its slit and shoved his pants down to his knees. He dropped his bottoms and released himself against his stomach. The hot skin was reddened and beating with his heart. You gasped at the sight, wanting to feel him within you so desperately.

“You know what to do,” he groaned. He curled fingers into your hair, roughly shoving your face toward him. You glanced up at him through your eyelashes, watching as he panted in anticipation. His pupils were blown wide, and his lips were parted, a hint of your blood still tattooed over his perfectly white teeth. Fuck, he looked gorgeous.

As your tongue came forth to swipe over his length as slowly as he’d allow you to, you realized you wouldn’t be finishing with him anytime soon. He intended to go as far as you could and then some. The anger built up in his chest was enough for seven men, and he loved nothing more than taking it out on you.

“Ah, you perfect fucking girl,” he groaned as you took him completely into your mouth. Despite his size, you did your best to push him to the very back of your throat, allowing him to caress you in places you’d never been touched before. His hands were tight against your scalp, forcing you to stay completely still as he bucked his hips into you. It wasn’t comfortable at all, but the feeling of being able to please him had you staying planted in place.

“You always take me so well,” he sighed, head angled toward the ceiling. Your thighs pressed so tightly together you thought they might combust. He was so perfect. “No one like you, no one like you, no one like you…” He mumbled endlessly, pushing those words into your brain.

You wanted him so badly—all you could think about was him. All you could see, smell, hear, taste was him. He surrounded you, forcing you to take him in every way you could. Every sense was blinded by him. And that was just how he liked you—drowning in him.

He pulled you from him before he could finish. He wanted to finish within you, just as he always did. You knew him well enough to turn yourself around and ready yourself to accept him. He tended to follow a bit of a pattern when fucking you, one you’d started to catch on to. He never had to ask you for anything anymore; you just did it.

He flipped your skirt over your ass, revealing the lack of bottoms beneath. Another groan left his lips as he placed his fingers over you, working every part of you apart like clockwork. He moved you open, lathering you in your arousal, marking your insides with his claim.

When he removed his hand from you and placed both of them on your hips, you bit your arm, preparing for him to split you down the middle. No matter how often the two of you had sex, you seemed to never adjust to his size. He always had to move as slowly as he could to work you apart gently. Perhaps you were a bit more sensitive down there than others, but he was always patient. Except for today, it seemed.

With little more than a brief hesitation at the start, he slid himself into you all in one go. A strangled gasp left you at the feeling. He wasted no time beginning to pound himself into you. He cared nothing of the pathetic whines and screams coming from your lips. Your hands white-knuckled the sheets as you begged him to slow down, to be gentler, anything. He didn’t fucking care. He wrapped a hand into your hair, using it as a bit of leverage. He was going to take out every bit of pent-up frustration on this tight cunt.

“Fuck, Slytherin!” you shrieked, the tears beginning to roll down your cheeks. He stopped immediately, his hips halting inside you. As if he was in a daze, Tom blinked rapidly and shook his head a bit. It felt as though he had been under a spell, the way he had been fucking into you.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” he whispered. He gently pulled himself out of you, a pitiful whine leaving your lips. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

Hearing him say those words alone was enough to convince him how serious the situation was. Tom didn’t say sorry unless it was to a professor or to generally get someone off of his back. Usually, it was fake. This time, it wasn’t, and it rushed out of his lips before he could stop it.

He gently wrapped himself around you, slowly turning you and laying you back against his pillows. He kicked his pants down the rest of his legs and slipped the both of you beneath his comforter.

The cool green satin pressed softly against your hot skin, softly soothing it. He laid himself down behind you, his soft breath barely tickling the hairs on the back of your neck. Hesitantly, his hand slid over your stomach. It seemed as though he wasn’t sure exactly how to comfort you, but was trying his best.

“Darling?” he whispered against your back.

“I’m sorry, I just—”

“Don’t ever apologize to me,” he said. “I’m sorry that I…I shouldn’t have been so rough with you.”

A soft sigh left you. You’d never had to use your safe word with Tom before—had never even wanted to. Every aspect of the way Tom fucked had always intrigued you. The ways he handled you as if you were nothing to him but an outlet for his pleasure, the way he insisted on doing everything, the way he was genuinely concerned about your pleasure, despite himself. It often left you breathless.

Tonight, however, had been different. You felt less than you usually did when beneath him. Usually it was a nice feeling; like you were smaller, something for him to take care of. But tonight you’d felt pure hatred coursing through his body. You were scared that it was directed toward you.

“It’s not that, Tom,” you sighed. “I was worried that you were angry with me.”

His hands gently wrapped around you and helped you to turn toward him. His eyes watched you sternly. He wanted to put any affection that had built up inside him completely into you.

“I have never been angry with you—I was angry with my worthless fucking followers, always insisting they ruin my life in the most embarrassing ways possible.”

“Why would they do that?” You gasped, shocked that they’d even think of doing such a thing.

“They think that they’re helping or something,” he scoffed, jaw clenching. You could feel the anger radiating off of him.

“I’m so sorry,” you sigh, slipping your eyes shut. “I hope I didn’t upset you further—it was just a bit too much, I suppose.”

He nods understandingly, saying nothing more. The quiet and safety you felt when with Tom had you falling into a particularly deep sleep. Though you tried to fight it off, you could feel Tom’s eyes on you, watching as you slowly drifted off.

The last thing you remembered before slipping fully into sleep was Tom’s hand gently against your cheek, his cold thumb caressing a hair away from your face.

*Tag List: @lilymurphy03, @mypolicemanharryyy, @angelfrombeneth, @clairesjointshurt (if you would like to be added to the tag list, please comment on this post, send me a dm, or message in my inbox. Thanks!)

#fanfiction #creative writing #fanfic #writing #reader insert #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #oneshot #slytherin #harry potter smut #tom riddle #tom riddle smut #tom riddle x reader #fem reader #request #requests are open

[sallowsswan]

Not A Gentle Lover

Tom Riddle x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Smut, pure smut, rough sex, p in v, fingering, praising

Summary: Tom pulls you away from what you're doing to have his fill of you...again.

Soo this is my first time trying to write smut, it's not the best and my punctuation is probably messy but I'm still posting this anyway~ Minors DNI 18+ (hides away in shame)

Tom Riddle was not a gentle lover.

He was possessive, obsessed even, when it came to how good your fucking cunt felt when he was buried so deep inside of it. This was the fourth time this week the head boy had sought you out, always without a single sentence uttered. Just those dark eyes boring into yours as he grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you away from whatever it was you were doing. You followed behind wordlessly, trying to keep up with his pace as he nearly dragged you to his private chambers.

Once the doors were locked his hand had already snaked its way up inside of your skirt, sliding one finger inside your folds while his thumb plays with your clit. Hissing at how wet you are from just the mere touch he’s burying his head into your neck as he’s pushing you backwards, both of you stumbling until you fall back against the mattress of his bed and he’s towering over you. He slides a second finger inside of your cunt making your back arch up as he begins to pump his fingers in you. The way your walls squeeze around his fingers is maddening, how can something like this feel so damn good? He shows no mercy to your clit, rubbing it till the point he knows you're overstimulated. Your whines turn into cries as tears prick at the corner of your eyes threatening to spill over, until your hips buck against his hand begging for release. But Tom Riddle wasn’t a gentle lover

Instead of giving you your orgasm, he rips it away, leaving you nearly sobbing as he pulls his fingers out and shoves them into your mouth, and you hopelessly suck on them as he’s using his other hand to unbuckle his belt and get his pants down. The way he moves is like a man starved, so desperate and in need. When he’s free from his restraints he’s leaning over you as he pulls his fingers out from your mouth. His hand pulls your skirt up until it’s resting over your hips. There’s no foreplay, no easing into it, he unceremoniously shoves his cock deep inside of your cunt and growls at the sensation of you taking him in. He moves his head burying it into the side of your neck as his hands move down to your thighs gripping them tightly as he spreads you open more. “Good Girl.” Two little words, yet they can carry the pleasure of the entire world in them with how he says them when he’s with you. This was his way of praising you. You were such a good girl for taking his cock in the way you did. Such a good girl for letting him fuck you stupid, and such a good girl for never pushing back with him. Tom Riddle was not a gentle lover, this man was the definition of rough. His hand found its way to your throat as he began to mercilessly thrust himself deep within your cunt, not stopping when you whine or whimper because he knows his good girl can take it. 

And boy do you ever.

You’re left writhing beneath him, hands fisted into the sheets as words escape your head and all that comes out of your pretty little mouth are cries of pleasure mixed with pain. Tom has the skill to fuck you so hard that you’re left sore and wanting more. You already know tomorrow is going to be a rough day for you from the grip he’s got on your thigh and the way it’s making its way slowly toward your hip. With each thrust his hips seem to find more prowess, more power as he rails into you with such an intensity it makes the bed beneath you two shake. He’s growling against your neck, the sensation of his lips vibrating against your skin drives you mad as you can barely make out what he’s saying…is that parsletongue? You wonder if in his state he’s trying to summon the basilisk in the chamber of secrets, or if he’s merely trying to will his own basilisk deep inside of you to stay strong long enough until he’s had his fill.

It was the latter.

Tom proceeds to fuck you like this for hours, in that time the rest of your clothes find their way strewn across his room and with every orgasm he gives you he fucks you right through it. This man is like a tom cat in heat, unable to stop himself until one final grunt escapes him and he cums deep inside of your cunt one last time collapsing onto the sheets beside you. Things stay like that until you both pass out, and when you wake up hours later on your side, and you are sore all over. Your mind is reeling over the events that just happened, you’ve done this with Tom many times now and yet every time you guys finish you end up waking up wondering ‘what have I done?’ ‘Am I just a plaything?’ ‘What does this mean?’

And every time this happens you feel an arm slide underneath your head, and another wraps its way around your waist. Your mind has been so loud that it wakes Tom up hearing the way you’re spiraling inside your head. He presses his body against your back and his lips press against your neck, his touch almost like a feather as he presses a kiss against it making his way up to your ear where you hear his voice rasp out something that shuts your mind off immediately and you relax into him.

“My Good Girl.”

Tom Riddle may not be a gentle lover, but he knows his way to keep you wanting more.

#slytherin boys #Tom Riddle smut #tom riddle #harry potter #tom riddle x fem!reader #tom riddle x you #tom riddle x reader

[natti-ice]

tom eating you out with his parselmouth skills ♡.

18+ mdni

Tom’s tongue game is unmatched. Him being a parselmouth gives him a leg up when it comes to controlling his tongue. He can manipulate and move it around in ways no one else has before. His tongue can flick against your clit so fast it almost becomes a vibrator, he can make you cum so fast without really putting in any effort.

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

[cardansriddle]

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

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

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

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

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was her perfume, he realised with a start.

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

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

Muggle.

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

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

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

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

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ 

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

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

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

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

“Black coffee,” he replied curtly

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He hummed and looked down at where he had stopped. 

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

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

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

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ 

He returned the next day.

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

Tom placed the book on the counter. 

"You finished it in one day?"

He shrugged. "I'm a fast reader." 

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

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

"Why do you read it so often?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"But—"

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

Yes.

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

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

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

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ 

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

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ 

Two weeks passed with no sign of him.

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

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

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

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

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ 

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

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ 

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

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

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

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

"Do you study in a boarding school?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Are you alright?"

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

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

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was maddening. 

She was maddening.

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

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

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hello.” 

“Hi.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s five minutes until closing time.” 

She would not be swayed so easily then. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Tom, I do not think—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes!"

"Fuck your apology." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No going back.

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ 

taglist: @faerienotfound   @orangepact77  @on-ya  @a-mj-a  @darkmoviesquotespizza  @444s0ul  @amarisout  @daechgustinad  @lillywise-the-dancingclown69  @eceamaizmirbosislermuduru  @narwhal-swimmingintheocean  @turnip-milk @kammsinn @ratsys @linosluna @lizzieolseniskinda @mypurplewinee @riya12044 @multiplefandomstan @thicbucchi @daisydark @an222shka @pennyllanne (let me know if i forgot to add you)

let me know if you wish to be added/removed from my taglist!

#tom riddle #tom riddle fanfiction #tom riddle one shot #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle x y/n #tom marvolo riddle #tom riddle fanfic #tom riddle fic #tom riddle x muggle!reader #tom riddle x fem!reader #tom riddle x you

[tomriddleslovergirl]

Tom Riddle x Reader x Mattheo Riddle Love Triangle Headcanons

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[pxgeturner]

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

— blurbs w gi ! 🎀

he wants to give you the best.

of him. of the world. of sex.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[madisonwritesstuff]

★ ; the lovers.

-------------------

Modern! Tom Riddle x GN Reader.

dating headcanons!

tags ; modern au, fluff, fluff, fluff, fluff, fluff, and more fluff, slightly ooc Tom?, literally the most wholesome-est fic, lil drabble of jelly tommy.

dating Tom is as you'd expect it to be.

sneaking into the Slytherin dorms at 11pm to have a sleepover with him.

“Can I come over to your dorm at night and watch movies with you? please?” “No, I'm not indulging in your childish fantasies. Absolutely no-”

and then he's huddled up against you with a blanket around the two of you as you both pick out a movie.

sometimes when you're in charms class you like to send him little notes through paper birds and he always gives you a judging glance before writing back anyway, because deep down you both know he loves the little messages on the notes.

he's not the type of guy who'd love PDA, but he definitely wraps an arm around your waist while walking to classes or anywhere in hogwarts or hogsmeade.

definitely loves holding your hand.

the feeling of intertwining your hands together to show everyone you belong to him and he is only devoted to you and you only.

he hasn't introduced you to any of his friends because while he doesn't say it and acts egotistical he's really scared you'll end up liking them more than him, and they'll take you away from him.

he absolutely LOVES it when you give him random hugs, he won't say it and will act annoyed but his heart is running a marathon and he just wants to cup your cheeks and give you kisses all over.

secretly has an album titled “rat. ❤” in his phone and it's just a bunch of photos he took of you without you knowing.

yes they're blurry, no that doesn't mean he's deleting them.

he has photos of you eating, sleeping (no he doesn't stalk you, you just fall asleep with him.) laughing, crying over a sad movie, any moment in time he has it all.

you take pride in calling him the most weirdest pet names ever. including “Tommy Boy, TomTom, Tomato man.” and anything you can think of.

he doesn't say it but he finds them cute.

usually he calls you by your name but sometimes he'll call you “darling.” or “love.” or even “sweetheart.”

if someone is talking to you and he wants your attention you better believe he'll just strut up and grab your arm and drag you away.

“What the hell was that?!” you protest. “I missed you.” he admitted quietly while pulling you into a hug and giving you a little pat on the back so you won't be mad at him, while also making sure someone won't walk in on the cute scene. (he will obliviate them if he has to.)

all rights reserved to © madisonwritesstuff , please do not copy, repost on other platforms, translate, or modify my works without my permission.

#tom riddle x reader #tom riddle #tom riddle x fem reader #tom riddle x male reader #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle x you #tom riddle headcanon #tom riddle dating headcanons

[beekeepingageissome]

Me when alabaster skin dark-haired men

#tomriddle#kazbrekker#jd#

#kaz brekker #kaz brekker x female reader #kaz brekker x fem!reader #kaz brekker x reader #six of crows #tom riddle fic #grishaverse #kaz brekker x y/n #kaz x reader #kaz x y/n #kaz x you #tom riddle x you #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle fluff

[lostmyremembrall]

Tom Riddle, a man of sophistication

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

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

Tom Riddle Incorrect Quotes

@buckysmetalhand @eclecticpatrolroadlawyer @percy-the-hufflepuff

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

[blueariel3-blog]

Only Her

Pairing: Tom Riddle x Reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why thank you, Abraxas!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[everybodyhatesari]

Seeing a character in a new light for a few hours after they cheat on u in a fanfic Is a different kinda pain 💔

#writers on tumblr #appreciate the writers!! #please follow me #please like me #hazel callahan #hazel callahan x reader #hazel callahan imagine #hazel callahan x you #ellie x y/n #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #ellie the last of us #tom riddle #james potter x reader #sirius black #sirius black x reader #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin #mattheo riddle x reader #theodore nott x reader #bottoms 2023 #dave lizewski x reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #miguel o’hara x reader #kit tanthalos x reader #mike schmidt x reader #fanfic #everybodyhatesari

[cauliflowertree]

tom riddle—a certain romance.

.ೃ࿐ྂ tom riddle x fem!reader

summary: tom provides a distraction when your period arrives.

word count: 1.1k

fanfic no. 024

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

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

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

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

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

he barely noticed.

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

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

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

“i-”

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

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

“are you unwell?” he questioned you.

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

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

“that time of the month, tom.”

he shifted. “oh.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“you can sit over here, you know.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[redmambajatiri]

A pet snake

Dad!Tom Riddle x Mom!black reader

A/n: this is a modern au

“Thomas Marvolo Riddle!” I yell from upstairs in our daughter’s playroom. I look at our three year old daughter Claudia as she’s playing with a snake. “Imma kill him” I say to myself while watching the snake closely.

“Yes, doll?” I hear his voice from behind me. Without turning around to look at him I ask, “Would you like to explain why our three year old has an Adder snake wrapped around her” I then hear his footsteps, then see him next to me in the corner of my eye. “She wanted a pet snake and I couldn’t say no” I look up at him and then back at her “Tom that's a wild snake, not a snake you get from the pet store, she can’t even speak parseltongue yet”

“Snek fraeslis” me and Tom look in Claudia’s direction in shock. “Tom say something in parseltongue to see if she understands you” I tell him “Claudia ʃe” she looks at him before getting up and walking to us with the snake in her hands. “kaʃe fasi snek” she looks at me before putting the snake down and patting its head. “Come here sweetling” I say while squatting down.

Once I picked her up I put her on my hip before asking her “ how’d you get that snake?”, “walking with papa” she says while looking at Tom.

“Tom, why did you allow her to get the snake?”

“She wanted a pet snake” he said will shrugging

“Claudia sweetling you can have a pet snake just not this one, ok?”

“vuʃ”

“la serpiente es venenosa” Tom said

“We’ll get you a new pet snake that’s not venomous, ok?”

“Sí mami”

“Good now, Tom you’re taking that snake outside and when you’re done we can take Claudie to the pet store and get her a new one” I say turning to Tom and kissing his cheek before walking out of Claudia’s playroom.

“This is gonna be a long day” I think to myself

Translations:

Parseltongue:

Snek fraeslis-snake friend

ʃe-No

kaʃe fasi snek-drop that snake

vuʃ-why

Spanish:

la serpiente es venenosa-The snake is poisonous

Sí mami- yes, Mommy

#black fanfiction #black authors #black!fem!oc #black!fem!reader #tom riddle x black girl #dad!Tom riddle #mom!reader #modern au #harry potter #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #x black reader #black reader

[natti-ice]

Tom Riddle NSFW Alphabet.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

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

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

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

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

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

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

[cardansriddle]

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

part 1

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

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

buymeacoffee <3

༻♛༺

You were on edge.

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

But they never came.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Are you alright? You look flushed." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I obliviated him."

"What?"

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

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

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

"You are horrible," You muttered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Please, Tom. Yes. Please." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I need you."

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

"Beg for it."

You almost choked. "What?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes. Please, move."

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

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

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

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

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

"Tom...I—I'm..." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

༻♛༺

taglist: @faerienotfound @orangepact77 @ariesbutalibra @a-mj-a @darkmoviesquotespizza @444s0ul @amarisout @daechgustinad @feestyles @lillywise-the-dancingclown69

(let me know if you wish to be added or removed from my general taglist)

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