Dazanoso v Time
~
Opting In, Opting Out
opting in opting out
opt in opt out
o-in o-out
ask.
you don't have to
but you can ask, time.
Maybe future me, maybe future we.
how broad your arc
to place me back
if boundaries
I chance
attack.
Attack?!
Checking in.
False alarm... again?
Honestly, that's suspicious.
Honestly, get some fucking alarms that work.
Our alarms work fine.
Then explain that.
Explain what?
That, offscreen.
Oh. Fuck. Well, I'm dead.
That was your responsibility to prevent?
I mean, I'll be fired. Not killed.
If only it were the good old days.
What? No. Weird. Look pal, not my kink.
I've done worse for less, but you know what, fair.
I'm gonna go resign right now. Or, wait... hostage?
What? You're volunteering to be taken hostage?
You seem nice. I mean. Considering. Plus maybe I'll get a book deal or at least have a really cool story to tell at barbecues for the rest of my life. Just, like, don't shoot me? Can we be upfront on that? That's an important part of this for me. Personal reasons, ya know?
I, yes. I do know. Very well. Come play your role as hostage and preserve your career while enriching my purse.
Oh you're an old fashioned horsey boy aren't you?
Chivalry lives, bitches.
Yeah, you see, the alarm wasn't false, was it?
Perhaps not. Unless you're into that sort of thing.
Already established, not my kink. Actual boundary here.
But then how will our romance unfold as you succumb to the ways of my strong arms and stronger will... Okay yeah now I'm seeing it.
No, no, that was getting onto something with potential... merits?
Merits! Like Merit badges?!
Oh, no, not like that. Toodles for real not a coded message or playing coy. Neurospicy. Casting cringe to ward my realms!
Casting cringe at what spell level?
Oh fuck Jeremy is that you?
Becca?
Fuuuuuuuuck
See you at dinner. System, Disengage.
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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!)
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