#tom riddle/reader smut
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LAST TIME | tom riddle
summary; things just aren’t right between you and tom. when you suggest a break up, however, tom is ready do anything to make it work.
word count; 4153
notes; honestly pure smut. I say tom is willing to do anything but what tom does is just give some really good orgasms. and somehow, it’s still better than 90% of men out there, so.
“You… want to break up?” The clock in the room seemed to tick louder than ever, the seconds dragging on longer and longer as Tom stared at you in disbelief. There was a bottle open between you, two glasses of whiskey poured but neither of them touched, as he stared in shock. “Why?”
“Because this isn’t working, Tom.”
He picked up his glass now, taking a heavy gulp from it, his brows furrowing as his throat bobbed, until only the empty Crystal was back on the table. He filled it up again.
“Tom—”
“Just let me think for a second.” You sighed, his gaze flickering over to you, and he softened for just a moment. “I’m trying to work out what to say.”
“There is nothing to say—”
“There has to be!” He slammed an open palm down on the wood, the table rattling and your drink shaking in its glass, his mumbled apology belaying his regret as he glared. At you, at the wall, at the clock still loudly tickling the seconds by. “Why?”
“Because this isn’t—”
“Don’t say this isn’t working. It works perfectly for me, so if it’s not working for you, tell me why. Tell me what I did, what I can do.” You reached for your own glass now, sliding it across the table and taking down the contents in one. Pushing the empty glass toward him with one finger as your throat burned, he filled it up, cupping your hand and pressing the glass into the other. “We fight all the time, I get that. But you love the fight, I know you do. But you’ve never—you yell, I shout, we fuck it out and we’re fine. This isn’t right, you don’t sit here calmly and tell me you want to break up, so tell me what to do.”
“I can’t tell you, Tom. I don’t know. I just know I can’t do this anymore.”
“But why?”
Exasperation burned through your veins, the words ‘It’s not working’ sitting on the tip of your tongue, and you had to bite it to stop them from coming free.
“I want to work through it. I want you to tell me every goddamn little thing that’s wrong. We’re not leaving this room until it’s right, do you understand me?” His fingers curled on the tabletop, a fist forming, nails no doubt digging into his palms, and you sighed. He may be making it sound like demands, but you both knew it was a question, a desperate plea not to give up on him. The kind of desperation you’d never heard from him before, and it was the only thing that made you stay. “Please.”
“I’ll stay, Tom. I’ll talk, but I make no promises, because I just don’t see this working out.”
“I’ll make it work.” There was so much conviction in his tone that you almost found yourself believing it. “First issue.”
“Tom—”
“First issue.” He insisted, and you ran a hand down your face.
“Okay, fine.”
And just like that, the night melted away. Hours slipped by in a blur of petty arguments, Tom’s eyes boring into your own as he fought and conceded, edging closer and closer to you throughout the night.
You resisted for only so long, the first drink gave you the confidence to tell him that you needed more. His cold attention wasn’t enough, you needed love and passion, you needed his vulnerability and his emotions, you needed his trust and his confidence to take down those walls.
The second drink gave you to confidence to yell, shouting about the kisses he denied you in public, the affections you dreamed of that he never delivered, the activities he got up to that he’d never tell you about. The friends he kept a secret. The times he’d disappear from you for days only to reappear with no word, yet demand to be a part of every single aspect of your life.
The third brought you closer, barely resisting his advances as you fought tears, fought anger, fought every overwhelming emotion that was almost spilling out.
The fourth brought peace. The fourth brought silence, whispered promises you were inclined to believe, as he all but crawled and knelt. He begged for forgiveness, a sight never before seen for Tom Riddle, when your stubbornness reared a new, alcohol-filled strength, urging you towards the door to leave him behind.
The fifth brought solace and warmth. The fifth brought the end of the argument.
The firewhiskey was almost gone, a comfort flooding through both of your bodies enough to loosen your lips beyond the hesitation you both held, and you knew if you drank anymore, all progress would be lost. Swiping up the bottle from the table and putting the stopper back in, you took it towards the shelf, feeling Tom’s eyes track your every movement through his dorm.
You placed it back within the cabinet, its rightful place between the other vintage bottles, displayed proudly like it wasn’t contraband to be hidden, his arrogance never more prominent. For some reason, you loved that. It had always been one of the things that had attracted you to him, his intelligence, his confidence, his sexy self-assuredness, but it just wasn’t enough anymore.
As you slowly walked back toward your seat, Tom’s calloused hand wrapped around your wrist, bringing you to a halt by his chair. Another soft tug, and he was bringing you down across his lap, arm snaking around your waist to hold you close to his chest.
“Tom…”
“Babydoll…” His whisper was lost to the air between you, a space that was closing as he leaned in. Slowly, slowly, giving you time to pull away, but you couldn't. Everything about him was your weakness, you’d never been able to leave him, not since the day you met him all those years ago, and you’d never be able to leave him now. “Let me back in. Love me again.”
“I do still love you, Tommy.”
“Then let it be enough. Trust that I’ll do whatever it takes.” His lips met your cheek, suddenly, firmly, over far too quickly as he rested his head on your own. “I know I’m hard to love, but if you do love me too, then please trust me.”
Another kiss, your hand cupping his jaw, a whimper slipping free as he pulled back again.
“Have some faith in me.”
Another kiss.
“Don’t leave me.”
“Kiss me, Tommy.” You sighed, tugging him forward and crashing your lips against his. He didn’t hold back, mouth slanting with your own as he sat up in the chair, holding you tighter to his body. His mouth was insistent, forceful and commanding just like every other part of him, lips coaxing your own apart until you were panting softly into his mouth, his tongue slipping through to tease your own.
He tasted of whiskey, faint traces of coffee and sugar, a heady mix that you were drowning in. His hands traced slowly across your body, dragging and gripping, tracing like he was trying to memorise you, in case it was the last time he ever got the chance.
You wanted more, you needed more, hands in his hair, messing up all those pretty curls and tugging him closer as you tried to twist in his lap. Unsuccessful, your legs still dangling over one of his as you sat sideways, a whine slipping free. To get more you’d have to stand, your hand raking seductively down his chest, nails scratching through the fabric of his shirt. You stood, or tried to, barely making it onto shaking feet before he was nipping at your lip with a cut-off grunt and tugging you right back into his body.
In one swift moment he was standing, cradling you sideways in his arms and carrying you across the room. A second later, you were lay on the bed, head pillowed by the quilts as he finally pulled back.
Those hands kept exploring, knees bracketing your body as he pushed your shirt up, up, up. He kissed at every newly exposed patch of skin, all across your stomach and over your breasts, reverent and tender, tongue swiping across your skin until you shivered, lips promising his love into your flesh. Until, you were sat up, slipping the top over your arms and letting him cast it away to the floor, his mouth working across your jaw, head tipped back to let him.
Your own hands went to his back, scratching down until you caught the hem, far less care and far more desperation as you yanked and tugged, pulling at the shirt until he was reaching behind his head to help you strip him of it, your fingertips falling back to the bare skin of his chest. Firm, warm muscles twitched under your touch, your back hitting the bed again as his mouth collided with your own, backed into the sheets and surrounded by every inch of him, his presence filling the room, filling the air you breathed.
“Tom…”
His grip shifted, one hand leaving the bedding to skim across your hip, under your body to the flat of your back, and lower. Cupping your arse he lifted your hips, just enough to slot himself between, and oh, delicious pleasure as his hips rocked into your own. Straining through the thick denim of his jeans, Tom pressed his hard cock into you, dragging every torturously clothed inch over your damp centre, ruined panties catching on the material and twisting, making it all the more thrilling.
He did it again, and again, your bodies rolling together, clothes the only barrier keeping you apart as his mouth claimed your own. Moans and whimpers bounced off of every wall, each deep, grunted sound he let out was like a high, ricocheting along your body and making your head spin.
“Fucking hell, babydoll,” His words were choked out, foreheads slick where they pressed together, panting breaths washing over your cheeks as he kept you moving against him, even as you became weak, even as the pleasure made you tremble, nearing that precipice already. “You’d walk away from this? Don’t you feel the way I do? You’re in my blood like a goddamn drug.”
Then, it was all ripped away, a pathetic wail falling from you as hot pleasure became cold disappointment, your hips dropped back to the bed. One of your shaking hands was cupped in his own as he pulled away, enough to sit up, kneeling between your spread thighs and dragging your hand to his chest.
Under solid muscle, his heart pounded, fast and irregular, beating like a drum. “For you, alright? This beats for you, and you alone.”
Like a knife through the tension, the haze was severed, a refreshing touch of cold on your sex-addled mind. Climbing up, into his lap as his hands gripped your hips, your own reached for his face, tugging him into the most tender and loving kiss you could muster in the heat of the moment.
His tongue slides over your own, your nails rake down his chest as you settle into his lap where he kneels, both of his hands kneading your ass. He shudders, your fingers grazing along the defined lines of his abs, and his breathing starts to shallow as your fingers press along the bulge in his jeans.
Bucking up, his lips stop working your own, letting you take control of the kiss as his strength starts to wane, your teasing touches along his cock making him squirm underneath you. Squeezing him through the denim, he moans into your mouth, loud and unashamed, and your smirk makes him bite at your lower lip until you gasp.
“I’m— fuck, I’m really trying to be romantic here, to make love to you, take it slow. You’re making that real fuckin’ hard for me.”
“I can feel how hard I’m making it for you, Tommy.”
It was unfair, perhaps, to taunt him so much when he was only doing what you’d asked, to show his affection rather than just assume you knew, to love you properly, but that's not what you wanted right now. Right now, as you’d stared him in the eye and faced the possibility of losing him, you just wanted him, in his rawest form.
“Tom, baby—”
“Stop teasing me.” He all but growled the words, hips rolling into your palm now as you squeezed with rhythm, one of his hands slipping beneath the layers of your clothes, sliding over your ass from behind until one fingertip circled your dripping entrance. “Stop teasing me, or you won’t come for hours, do you hear me? I’ll make you cry and beg and scream, I’ll drive you to the edge of your goddamn sanity the way you make me, and maybe I won’t even let you come then.”
With those final words, he plunged a single digit inside of you, your back arching against his chest as he hummed, lips tearing apart as your body bowed to his. Pumping slowly, he left peppered kisses along your exposed collarbones, his other hand trailing teasingly up your spine, undoing the clasp of your bra with a flick of his fingers.
Jerking it free from your body shakily, he let out a primal noise as you threw it away, lips wrapping around one nipple, teeth tugging the taut bud.
“Oh, fuck, Tommy…”
“That’s right, doll. Moan my fucking name.” He did it again, a second finger slipping inside of you, chasing out every sentient thought you had.
Your fingers were shaking as you reached for his jeans, tugging at the button and zipper until you could get them down. Finally, you pulled him free from the confines, and relished in the sound he made against your skin as you swept your thumb over the dripping head of his cock.
Sitting there, half in his lap as he finally brought you closer and closer to your ruined orgasm, you pumped his cock slowly, nuzzling your nose against his own, feeling the beat of his heart against your hand on his neck. Steady, thumping, a beat just for you as he promised.
His skin was wet under your touch, hot and soft and slick, your fist sliding over him, twisting just how you knew he liked. He may know your body like the back of his own hand, but you knew him too. You knew every trick that made him weak, every touch and spot that you could exploit to bring him to his knees before you, if you so wished. Tom Riddle may scare everyone away, may put on his façade to the world, but he was your lover, your heart and soul, and he bared himself to you alone in this vulnerability.
Tracing your thumb over the head, you squeezed his cock, another bead of precum, dribbling from the slit and lubricating his skin under your palm. His mouth left your skin, head tilted back. Those pretty brown curls were already plastered to his forehead, sex and love hanging heavy in the hot air, and when your eyes locked with his half-lidded ones, you knew you weren’t going anywhere.
Like a silent oath, one he could read in your gaze, he knew it too. It would never be so easy to leave, to walk away from him, from this. Things may need to change, but you’d work through them together, because you couldn't just leave him.
Your lips slammed together once more, passion and promise, sealed between your mouths as he moaned your name against your tongue.
It was just like that, with his body swearing his dedication into your flesh with every touch that you came, crying his name as you unravelled around his fingers, letting him whisper and coax you through it. Your body was shaking in his, leaning into him for support, his lips at your temple.
“Was that good, doll?”
“So good, Tommy.” Your breathless bliss was short-lived, before you could process it, he was pushing you backwards one hand on your chest firmly pressing you into the sheets, and a smirk on his lips as he looked down at you.
“Good, it’s only getting better from here.”
His movements showed no gentleness as he tore at the rest of your clothing, your body half dragged down the bed as he stripped you bare. Heat roared through your veins and a blush coated your cheeks, the same way it always did when he manhandled you in such ways. He stripped off his own clothes, nearly tearing the fabric from his body until he was as gloriously naked as you were, every inch of pale, scarred, perfect flesh exposed to you.
His grip on your thighs was bruising as he pressed them apart, hardly giving your foggy mind a moment to process, giving your body no chance to truly settle, before he was on his stomach before you, tongue swiping up the evidence of the orgasm he’d just wrung from you in his lap.
You jolted, one hand flying to his hair as the other gripped the sheets in your fingertips, a scream on your lips as he lapped the flat of his tongue across your sensitive clit. “Tom, oh, fuck!”
He moaned in response, the feeling buzzing across your skin as your hips ground up against his face, every part of your scrabbling for purchase as you sank into the pleasure of it. He went again and again, fingers gripping your thighs, holding them parted for him, before finally, he sucked your clit between his lips, and you sobbed out an attempt at his name.
“Tom, fuck, fuck— I can’t—”
“Oh, let’s not lie, doll.” He pulled back, a sharp smack across your clit, a skittering pain that made you clench around nothing, so hard you swore you’d cramp, “We both know you can, and you will. You’ll come all night if I decide it. Now, be a good girl.”
“You’ll be the death of me, Tom Riddle.” Your words were stuttered out between heavy, panted breaths, and he chuckled as he resumed his work. The dark declarations of adoration were always something he had loved, especially when he had you on his tongue, driving you mad.
Over and over he worked, kissing, licking, sucking, biting, until your eyes were rolled back in your head, writhing in the sheets, dripping just for him to lap it up, his name like a mantra, all you could think of. Your climax teetered on the brink, your hips rolled up unto his face, chasing with such wanton need that all shame went out of the window and your fingers twisted where they were buried in his dark hair.
“Tom, I’m—”
“Gonna’ come? You there already, doll?” You would feel embarrassed for his taunts if you weren’t so needy, like a bitch in heat, and you just nodded. A whine slipped free as he pulled back, tears in your eyes threatening to come free as you were denied once again. The bed dipped, and before you could curse, before you could hate him for taking it all away again, his thick cock parted your folds, slamming into you in one quick thrust, and you exploded.
His hips rocked, ever so gently, dragging out your orgasm until the flutters of it faded, leaving only blissful peace in its wake. Your hands hooked under his arms as he fisted the bedding on either side of your head, kisses left on your collarbones until your body finally calmed down, and he let his mouth trail up to your own, lips brushing.
“You belong to me, do you understand that? Just like I belong to you.” His body shifted, hips rolling back, until he was barely inside of you anymore, only for a single, deep thrust to have you crying his name, digging your nails into his flesh, praying for anything. “I’m all yours.”
Another thrust, another cry, scratches down his back that made him hiss in excitement.
“I don’t care how I prove it to you, I’ll carve your name into my goddamn skin if I must, whatever it takes for you to see it.”
He kept it up, the deep pace, the meaningful words, all whispered into your ear as he sucked bruises into your skin, marking you as his the way he promised he’d mark himself too. Your love with him was brutal, it was harsh and sometimes cold, but nobody loved hotter than Tom did either.
If you asked him to, there’s no line he wouldn't cross, nothing he wouldn't do for you, and his dedication showed. It showed in the way he fucked you, holding your gaze and stopping until you looked back to him, fighting the roll of your eyes to the back of your head, or the shaking of your body so hard you could barely breathe. It showed in the hand that slipped up your skin, fingers sealing around your throat as he began to lose control, fucking without sense as he chased his own high, your core squeezing around him so tight he could barely spit out his curses and praise before losing to the end too.
It showed in the way he hugged your body to his, skin to skin, everywhere you touched as his release filled you, dripping and escaping around his cock as he fucked the both of you through the final moments of shared ecstasy.
It showed in the way he collapsed down on top of you, all walls gone in these few moments, shaking as much as you were as his body smothered your own. Your hand in his damp hair, the other stroking up and down his back as he continued to whisper mindless adoration and poetic love in your skin, kisses and touches that made you understand his devoted worship.
“Tommy…”
“Right here, doll. M’right here with you, I’m all yours.”
He lifted himself at last, balanced on one weak elbow to look at you, smiling in that way only you ever saw as you tentatively brushed plastered curls away from his forehead. He leaned in, a peck left to your lips before he pulled out, wincing apologetically at the grumble that left your lips as he did.
“Let me get something to clean you up, alright? I’ll be back.”
You knew he would, he always was, and only moments later, he was reappearing from the bathroom with a cold cloth, parting your thighs much more gently now, and wiping your sensitive skin clean. “We forgot protection.” You mumbled, one hand coming up to rub across your forehead, too tired to care much now but a problem for the morning.
A problem he didn’t seem to appreciate, only smirking as he cleaned himself off, before pushing one hand over your stomach. “Maybe I should knock you up, I’d like to see you leave me then.”
“Tom!” His joke was not well received, even if his raspy laugh at your chastisement warmed your heart, your arm thrown over your eyes to block him out, to relish in peaceful darkness. The dirty cloth hit the floor somewhere with a squelch, another problem for the morning, as he tugged the covers out from under your body, collapsing down beside you a moment later and tugging them up over you both.
Then, he was peeling your arm from your face, rolling your head to the side to look at him. Gone was the smile, gone was the laughter, a serious look on his face as he studied you carefully.
Tom shuffled a little closer, delicately brushing hair from your brow before settling a hand along the curve of your waist.
“I like it when your cheeks get all rosy after. You look so pretty when you're glowing, just for me.” Your scoff was cut short by his lips, tugging you in until your naked body was pressed back up to his own, that palm scraping over your soft skin to hook your thigh up over his hip, and your arm lay over his shoulders lazily. “Something is telling me this isn’t over. Tell me I’m right?”
“I love—.”
“Tell me you’re staying.” He knew you too well, his grip around your waist tightening holding you to him like he feared you’d slip away. “Don’t tell me you love me unless you plan to keep doing it.”
His gaze pierced into your own, face still like stone but worry painted in his eyes, and you nuzzled your nose against his own. He bumped back, once, insistently. “I love you, Tom.”
He sighed, heavy and happy and bumped your noses together once again. A small smile pulled on his lips, and he nodded slightly as his eyes fluttered closed. “I love you too.”
“Doesn’t mean you’re off the hook, though. I’ll still make you work for it.”
“I’d expect nothing less from a future Riddle woman.”
#tom riddle#tom riddle x reader#tom riddle/reader#tom riddle x you#tom riddle/you#tom riddle x you smut#tom riddle x reader smut#tom riddle/you smut#tom riddle/reader smut#Harry Potter#slytherin boys
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jealousy. | slytherin boy headcanons
author’s note: im completely unhinged, as always. no surprise there. love me some angry snake men🥵 please enjoy.
-your boyfriend sees another guy flirting with you in the hall.
Draco Malfoy.
Sees you from down the hall as he’s walking with his friends.
“You know what, guys, I’ll catch up with you after.”
Would literally ditch his friends to make his way over, collecting himself as saunters up to you and mystery man.
Would instantly grab your ass, no hesitation, grip firm enough to bruise. When you gasp, caught off guard, he’d shift his arm up and around your shoulder, pulling you against him.
“What’re we talking about?” He’d sneer.
His voice would be laced with feign interest, smirking down at you with blaring eyes before shooting daggers at the boy.
He’d simply chuckle at you when you tell him nothing, just school stuff, leaning down to place a possessive kiss on your cheek as he grabbed your hand.
“Wonderful. let’s head to class, yeah?”
He’d pull you away from that dude, shooting him another look meant to kill, a silent warning not to fuck with him.
Finally gets you alone in an empty corridor or bathroom; would waste literally no time at all before pushing you against the wall and grabbing your neck/jaw.
“Who the fuck was that, hm?”, “he was practically eye-fucking you…give me five good reasons why i shouldn’t have him expelled or hexed into bloody Azkaban.”
He’d be furious, but he’d also know that you’d never choose some other guy over him, so he’d soften once he hears the innocence in your tone.
“You’re mine, princess,” he’d loosen his grip, kissing you softly. “Say it.”
Blaise Zabini.
Was listening to music while walking down the hall, instantly rips out his headphones the second he sees you laughing a little too hard with some dude he doesn’t know.
He doesn’t necessarily stop walking, but he’d definitely slow his pace, kind of just watching, not wanting to interfere but also not wanting to look creepy stalking you from a distance.
When the guy doesn’t leave, he’d tired of waiting, saying “fuck it”, before marching over naturally.
This man is so fucking cool calm and collected he’d just saunter right up and join in, making himself at home.
He’d practically take over the conversation because he’s literally just that chill in every situation, seamlessly fitting right in, so fucking charming and loved by everyone.
You’d kind of just end up staring at him, smiling in silent awe, knowing that this was his way of asserting his place, letting the guy know what the fuck was up.
After the dude leaves he’d just causally look at you, smirking that charming smirk, wetting his lips as he hooked an arm around your shoulder and pulled you close, leaning down for a kiss.
“Ain’t no one getting you without getting me too, babygirl.” He’d murmur against your lips. “let that be known, right now, forever, always.”
Lorenzo Berkshire.
Would literally stop everything. The second he’d see you laughing and smiling he’d be completely unable to focus on anything else and would completely zone out of any conversations with his friends.
Would get like super anxious and flustered pretty much immediately.
Wouldn’t want to intrude so he’d just kind of hang back, wait for you against the wall and try not to stare too much.
His adorable little cheeks would flush, and he’d know he seemed utterly ridiculous so he’d try to busy himself with his shoelace or something while he waits.
You’d quickly cut off the conversation and move over to him, instantly being able to tell that he’s overthinking.
He’d smile at you, though you could still see the concern on his features.
“Who was that guy, darling?”
You’d tell him he was just a friend from class, no one special at all, pulling him in for a hug and giving him a quick smoochie on the cheek.
“Don’t worry enz, no one could ever take your place.”
He’d blush, trying to play it off. “Sorry love, I know you’re my girl.”
You’d take his hand, squeezing him hard, never wanting him to doubt that for a second. “Only yours baby, forever.”
Mattheo Riddle.
“Who the fuck-“
Would literally whip his bag at Theo, hastily shoving through the crowded hallway with blazing eyes, tunnel visioned as he tried to figure out where the fuck this dude found the audacity.
You wouldn’t even have to turn around to know he’s there, you’d be able to literally feel the anger radiating off of him.
You’d already know exactly where this was heading, but you’d also know there was no attempting to stop him because it’s pointless. Everyone in the school knows that.
Matty does what Matty wants, and right now, he wants to fuck up this guys face for even thinking about flirting with you.
You’d simply look up at him, noting his tensed jaw and his dark eyes as he glances between you and the dude, before fixing back on you, wetting his lips before he says,
“Is this fucker bothering you?”
Unable to help it, you’d smirk, shaking your head as you calmly attempted to talk him down.
“No Matty, he just asked if he could borrow my study notes-“
He’d heard more than enough.
“Study notes? Yeah, I don’t fucking think so,”
Without giving the guy a chance to react, he’d reach for his collar, shoving his back against the wall, teeth barred and face contorted in a snarl as he’d hiss:
“Bother my fucking girlfriend again and the only study notes you’ll need are the ones on how to drink out of a fucking straw, understand?”
Not interested in the response, he’d shove the guy away, eyes softening instantly as he moved back over to you, thrusting a hand through your hair as he kissed you like it’d been a hundred years, right in the middle of the hall for everyone to see.
And judging by the intensity in his grip, you’d already know, later that night, he’d be extra fucking sure to ask you who the fuck you belong to while he’s fucking you.
When he finally pulled back, he’d smirk at you. “Some bloody nerve on that guy, huh?”
You’d just shake your head and laugh, taking his hand as the two of you headed for class.
Theodore Nott.
He’d spot you from down the hall, his eyes instantly narrowing, gaze darting around as though he was missing something, as though this was some sort of sick joke.
Surely, this dude is mentally unwell, right? There’s no fucking way that he’s-
Doesn’t bother to think about it for even another fucking second, instantly shoving through the crowd to make his way over.
Proceeds to wrap his arm around your waist, other hand finding your jaw and pulling your lips to his before you could even process it.
Would proceed to full-on make out with you in front of the dude, and I mean tongue and all, his grip on your jaw so tight you’d know exactly what he was trying to do.
His hand around your waist might even slip lower, grazing over your ass, and then that’s when you’d attempt to gather yourself and push him back, completely embarrassed.
He’d just shrug, smirking down at you before he’d finally acknowledge the guys’ presence with literally nothing more than a glare meant to kill.
“Move along,” he’d say to the guy while pulling you away, grip tighter than ever. “This one’s fucking taken.”
As soon as he got you alone he’d be damn sure to remind you that you’re his, and only his, making you beg and whine his name before he fucked you like you deserved the pain.
Tom Riddle.
“AVADA KEDA-“
Lowkey kidding but not really.
No one would even dare because that man would make it clear as fucking day what would happen if they tried.
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Oh, how you’d changed him
Tom Riddle x Reader
Summary: how you’d changed Tom and his life for the better, and how ridiculous his previous plans seemed after that.
Tom had carefully planned out his world domination, created his alias Lord Voldemort and the horrors that would go with him. He decided that he would single-handedly take over the wizarding world by any means necessary and reek havoc amongst the weaklings that surrounded him. This; a plan he had created since he was merely a boy, determined to return what this cruel world had forced upon him - sorrow and pain.
Until he met you. To Tom, you were like a breath of fresh air, an unbeatable presence with bright and hopeful features that offered a sense of peace in his life. You had been acquaintances since first year, however had become more familiar in sixth-year potions, just as he was plotting his first horcruxes along with the basallisk attack, you had been assigned as station-partners in the early September of that year.
When your names had been read Tom quirked a brow, however was not disappointed with the testily - having duly noted your previous achievements in the subject and feeling as though you could come in handy later down the line when his domination was more of a priority than his studies, but his world came crashing down when you turned in your seat to examine him.
Tom was lead to believe that he was incapable of love. A monotone psychopathic freak lacking human emotions, yet obtaining alien abilities. It when your eyes looked him over and your hair swayed behind your shoulders, he was unable to ignore the way his heartbeat quickened and breath faltered, in Tom’s eyes you were unfathomably gorgeous and he was unable to look away, a Medusa incapable of stoning her victims.
You held your hand out calmly and he admired the way your posture was straight and head held in a confident stature. “Y/n,” you said, lips soft and plump and voice soothing and gentle. “Tom,” he replied, voice failing him as he fumbled over his words with a stutter - something having never happened to him previously. You giggled at his mistake and he found himself enjoying the sound, instinctively making it his mission to hear it once more, unable to stop the smile appearing on his lips.
Tom also appreciated your knack for perfection. Your potions never failed to exceed beyond perfection and your applause was always deserved, taken with a humble nod to your peers before you set out defying the next odds in your path.
Naturally, Tom began to gravitate towards you outside of lectures, also. He’d find himself on the path to walk you to class or accompany you to the dinner table, or beside you in the library studying beyond the librarian’s patience and working hours. Tom found comfort in your presence and allowed himself to indulge regardless of what ‘Lord Voldemort’ told him to do.
Eventually, he’d offered his arm to stroll down with you to Hogsmeade on a chilly autum day, a few weeks before Christmas celebrations would commence and the winter solstice would turn the Scottish highlands surrounding you into an awe-worthy winter wonderland. “May I accompany you to Hogsmeade?” Tom asked with a small smile, holding his arm out to you while you friends giggled and pushed you towards him. You’d laughed with him as you threaded your forearm alongside his, joining you both at the hip while you replied: “yes, you may Tommy.”
Strangely, he never felt any kind of resentment to any nickname you’d give him other than his name. He welcomed your names with open arms and answered to nearly any plausible noun that passed his lips. He even bought you butterbeer to warm your frostbitten lips, sipping simultaneously while the barmaid offered a few obvious knowing glances.
You shivered as you walked on, the many layers you had adorned on top of your skin no match for the ever-growing cold attacking Hogwarts and found yourself struggling with chattering teeth. Tom immediately removed his long coat and wrapped it around you, admiring both the chivalry of his actions and the satisfied smile on your face when your body temperature started to rise. “No, no, Tom. You’ll get cold.” You said, a reluctant whine passing your lips to which he shrugged. With anyone else, he would’ve let you freeze to death, but not you. He would die for you, freeze to death if you will. “I’m fine, I’m more concerned about getting you back to the castle without hypothermia.” He says with a small chuckle, pulling you into his side by the waist. “I guess you aren’t so cold-hearted as you make yourself out to be, Tom Riddle.” He looks down at you and considers your words for a few seconds.
“You confuse me, y/n. I’ve never felt so warm and gleeful around a person yet you never fail to bring a smile to my face. Teach me how to do that.” I instructs but you shake your head no gently. “I cannot do that simply due to the face that you do it to me, also.” You reply, each exchanging knowing glances between each others eyes and lips. He leans down and traps your lips with his own, warming your body through a simple yet sophisticated gesture and from that day forward you were referred to as his girlfriend.
Of course, however he had also come clean about his upbringing and eventually the chamber and the basilisk. He had told you he was conceived under the influence of a love spell and believed that he was incapable of loving until he had met you. You laid on his bed as you talked; his head on your chest while you weaved your fingers thought his chestnut locks and listened to him. “I read a while back now about a recently investigated muggle issue called autism and it has occurred to me that you’re not incapable of love, you have asbergers Tom. I’ll read the passage to you later.” And all of a sudden all of his unjustified emotions and troubles made sense and he could finally find an unknowingly lost sense of peace within himself knowing what truly made him into the Tom Riddle he was.
When he took you into the chamber he’d told you all about his plan for domination and his large magical snake and how he had a few followers and you never judged him once. If anything you thought it was impressive that he yearned for revenge instead of acceptance but reasoned that perhaps an oversized snake and a killing spree were not the solutions he was searching for. The basilisk lived shrunken to normal size in a glass cage beside his bed after that.
And as the time went by and your relationship flourished, Voldemort seemed more like a past phase than a goal and was more focused on the life he going to create with you. He called his ‘followers’ pathetic and told them to get a life when they questioned his authority over their devotion.
Eventually, it came time for you to graduate and Tom’s hand was tightly clasped in your own as you looked at the castle for a final time. You were silent, acknowledging the end of this era and slowly coming to terms with it. After a while, Tom scoffed. “World domination.” He said with a smile shaking his head. “Who’s ever heard of such a thing?” He turned and picked up your bags along with his own. “Ready to go, darling?”
The two of you had shared your own compartment on the train ride home, others finding their own cubbies as Tom scared them off from sitting with you. Your head was rested on his shoulder as he read a muggle book to you that you had bought the previous summer ‘the great gatsby’. It was a deep and considerate book and made you think about your future, also.
“What’re we going to do now?” You ask out of the blue, interrupting his sentence as he simply closes his book and looks down at you, your face deep in thought. “Well,” he hummed, thinking for a moment. “We’ve booked that cottage in the Peak District for a few weeks, how about we think it all out then?” And you nod. “Sounds like a plan then.”
The next few weeks were spent waking together in the high peaks of the muggle countryside, simply talking and appreciating one another’s company and plotting your lives.
“Is it bad that I want to stay here forever?” You ask him, looking out at the sunsetting one warm winter evening. Tom thinks thoughtfully before saying “if it is then it’s bad that I want to stay here too.” As a pureblood witch you were born under the believe that muggle life was pointless and undeserving, and as had Tom - but together you realised you preferred the quiet and solitary, and not needing to use magic to do everything all of the time. It was a change. And it was nice.
One morning mid-august Tom was reading the newspaper and you were making you both toast. “Someone’s selling the property up the street.” He says and you sip on your drink and look out of the window. “What? The old farmhouse.” “No, the one with the long drive and vines up the side.” You sigh dreamily. “Oh, if only.” You say with a chuckle. “Darling we can afford it.” Tom says and you stay in silence for a moment, sharing the thoughts weaving through your minds. “It wouldn’t take up a large chunk of our savings.” He drops his reading glasses to the end of his nose and smirks. “We’re rich in muggle terms.” You laugh and shake your head at him. “You’re so humble, Riddle.” He stands up and slides his hands around your waist to hold you close as you share the view of the house in question. “We’re buying it.” He spoke after a while, finalising his decision. “What happened to the ‘I hate muggles and never want to be amongst them’?” You ask, turning to him with a cocked brow. He just shrugs. “They were Voldemort’s views. Not mine.”
Matter several months going back and forth with the previous owners and settling on an asking price, you were standing in front of the house- your house, beside tom, exactly how you had when you were leaving Hogwarts. “This is our house.” You say, not taking your eyes off of the scenic view before you. Tom takes you into his side and rubs your arm comfortingly before kissing your temple. “Our home.”
Tom became an Auror, acting as an undercover wizard in the muggle setting catching and reporting any source of dark or unrightfully used magic. You took up being a healer, training in the wizarding world but practising in your home village, being known as a respectable young doctor who all the elderly or adjacent citizens resided in to get treatment - and anything you gave them always worked.
It was a spring morning when you were down at the bakery picking up a loaf of bread for your dinners. “How’s that fella of yours?” The lady asked with a smirk. “Oh Tom’s fine, just left for work.” “Popped the question yet?” The old woman asks, elbowing you slightly. “We’re only twenty Agatha!” You say with a laugh. “Well, Arthur and I were married when we were nineteen.” She crossed her arms. “I thought you were telling me how much you hated him?” You laugh. “Oh he gets on my wire, but we were still married!”
That left you with the thought in your mind for the remainder of the day - you’d decided that Tom Riddle was the man you wanted to spend the rest of your life with and then some.
In February you both took a trip down to the Lake District and rented a boat house with a large lake, your jobs and ‘trust funds’ inherited from family members allowed you to do this rather frequently and easily, nothing out of the ordinary to take a trip for a long weekend.
It was at sunset, rather early due to daylight saving hours when you rowed out onto the lake to just sit in tranquility for a little while, appreciating the quiet time together. You’d rose to your feet, sure that you had seen an owl fly by and when you turned around, Tom was on one knee, box in hand. In the box, the ring of Salazar Slytherin himself with a bunch of roses in the other.
“Agatha told me today is Cupid’s holiday.” He say, voice just beyond a whisper as a smile grew on your face and tears formed. “You know, until I was sixteen I was asphyxiated with the idea of taking over the world, finding a victim to take the pain that I felt. But those silly little thoughts were gone when I met you, the only person I live and breathe for. I never thought I could, however I love you, yn ln. And it would do me great honour if you would be my wife.”
You’d kissed and hugged him and wept into his shoulder as you happily embraced - ready to start the rest of your lives together. There were no other young women in the village and your parents had practically alienated you when you went to live with muggles so the ladies who attended your doctors practise took you shopping for your wedding dress - Tom insisted on paying.
Dolly was brutally honest and Susan started crying, Agatha kissed you and called you her daughter and it was certainly a day to remember - a gorgeous fitting dress, white and highlighting your features gracefully.
You’d gotten married in the village church, an audience of your neighbours and close friends and a few companions from school, Agatha was your maid of honour and Greta your flower girl, gleaming smile on her face while her husband rolled her down the isle in her wheelchair while she sassily threw rose petals. And Dumbledore was sat in the front row, a smart suit on while he smiled at the man the little evil boy turned out to be, and the gorgeous woman you had flourished into.
It was a beautiful ceremony and a beautiful day. And you were now the beautiful yn Riddle.
In September, Abraxas Malfoy and his wife wanted to celebrate their wedding anniversary and asked if they would drop their son, Lucius off for the week so they could go away. You and Tom decided to take the week off work and look after him, after all, the young lad needed to be accustomed to his god parents!
One evening Lucius had pleaded with you to go sit in the garden and paint together and of course you complied, taking the supplied and the young boy on your hip, and headed for the grass to make a mess. And make a mess you did, there was red in your hair and blue on his white libel shirt, and hardly anything on the page. Tom watched from the window sipping on a cup of tea, watching as you interacted with the young boy so naturally, tickling his stomach and laughing as you played hidey-boo. It created an odd twang in his stomach, the same he had felt when he had first laid eyes on you.
One day when the boy had been reunited with his parents, Tom had been sent on a mission to retrieve an escaped boggart. During his time at Hogwarts, his biggest was recognisably his own dead corpse, but when he approached the creature, it’s form was your grave with him sat looking deathly ill beside it weeping. Your headstone read ‘a loving wife and doctor, no children’ his stomach dropped when he realised what he needed. What he needed right now.
He got home that night and held you close and cried, feeling you warm and full of life. You caressed his shaking body as you soothes him, and when he had calmed he had taken your face into his hands and cradled it, telling you suddenly “yn I want a baby.”
Throughout your pregnancy, Tom was tender and reluctant to let you move without him being beside you. He became more protective than he already was an even took an extended paternity leave just before your due date.
Prior to that however, he worshiped you like a goddess. He would make you decaf tea - something you grumbled about but he refused to listen. He stopped smoking his pipe inside the house, instead taking it to the end of the garden while he and Mr Garson next door chatted about his wife and you. He made you lay on the settee and sat on the floor beside your growing stomach while he read old wives tales from a book inherited from his mother. He even sang to it once or twice. After the sixth month mark when your belly was becoming noticeably plump to the point you could rest your tea cup upon it without it falling off, he began carrying you everywhere. Regardless of how far the distance, and the fact you were carrying another human, he acted as though you were a feather that needed assistance and carried you the way he did on your wedding night.
When you took your own maternity leave, he was even more pleased - before he’d sit beside you in your doctors office and never took his eyes off of you, now he needn’t a reason to why. In his eyes, his love was pregnant and needed tending too. He’d shower with you and lift your stomach until he saw the face of satisfaction he knew well and loved. And he’d be lying if he said the breasts you were growing didn’t make his mouth water, as well as the fact there was a possibility that he could impregnate a pregnant woman - a thought that drove him wild but alas after many attempts, it was eventually an unsuccessful mission.
And in the next July, Tom was sweating as he held your hand and felt a great pain as you cried in agony beside him. You were in a muggle hospital, Agatha had awoken in the middle of the night and heard your pained cries and ordered her husband, Mr Garson to drive you to the hospital which he did, adjusting his thick-lenses on his glasses and having to be awoken a few times at the wheel from Tom’s furious barks, but you made it on one piece, and at quarter to ten, you produced him a son, deciding on naming him Mattheo Riddle.
After giving him a bath, the midwife’s tried to take him away ‘give you a break’, but you refused. Groggily saying “I’ve only had him ten minutes why would I need a break.” And Tom soon shooed them off, getting into the bed beside you and holding your son skin-to-skin as he slept on his fathers chest, and you on his shoulder. When you drifted off he kissed the top of your head gently and whispered sweetly “well done, mummy.”
Tom was determined to be the father he didn’t have. And a good one at that.
Mr and Mrs Garson cried when you asked them to be the godparents, you would’ve appointed the role to everyone in this village if you could - your own little family larger than it seemed.
The newborn stage went by awefully fast and you and Tom self with every hurdle and hiccup together, all the nappies and sick, and the 3AM walks when baby Matty would not settle. It was gone and soon you had a walking talking toddler of whom you were both awfully proud of.
The chilly autumnal eves suddenly turned into even colder winter morns, Christmas was making its rounds in the muggle world and you and Tom had became accustomed to it. You decorated the tree, hung candles, sung carols, gave presents and ate specialty meals on the 25th. Tom sat in his armchair, Mattheo on lap, reading glasses down to the end of his nose as he read A Christmas Carol to him.
You were making dinner, Mince Pie was on the menu that night in particular, and you smiled as you notice the snow falling. You wiped your hands and leant against the doorframe watching your two boys in awe, just memorising the picture for a moment. “Are you alright, my love?” Tom asked, smiling up at you. “Just admiring the picture.” You say, mirroring his grin. Then you turn to your son. “I’m awfully sorry to interrupt, master Riddle. However, so I do believe it is snowing.” He gasped dramatically when he heard the news. “Snow! But we’re reading! But snow!” You both laugh at his dilemma then suggest “how about we eat dinner, then we’ll read out in the snow and make a snowman.” The young boy squeals in delight and runs to the dining room to eat, sitting ever so patiently yet with an impatient smile on those cheeky lips.
That evening you built a snowman, read the last part of the book, and put your son peacefully to sleep in his bed after singing ‘Silent Night’ to him. You and Tom basked in the sight for a moment, just taking in the calmness of the setting.
And as Tom looked down at you, he thought of how you’d changed him.
*scoff* Lord Voldemort, who’d ever heard of anything so ridiculous?
#masterlist#xreader#smut#fluff#warner sister#angst#x you#Tom#riddle#Tom riddle#Tom x reader#Tom x you#Tom riddle x you#Tom riddle x reader#Tom x yn#Tom x y/n#Tom riddle x y/n#riddle x you#riddle x reader#riddle x y/n#life#good life#Harry potter#Harry#potter#the chamber of sercrets#lord#Voldemort#lord Voldemort#Slytherin
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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
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Theodore Nott Headcanons
Warnings: Theodore / Asshole? | Mentions of Oral Sex / (female receiving) | Sex (P in V) | Fingering | Me Ranting | Curse Words | Let me know if I missed something?
Fem!Reader
Author’s Notes: Kinda realistic, but you have to be a little delulu with the Slytherin boys. FIRST POST!
Proofread, but there's probably still mistakes.
Mattheo Riddle Headcanons
Lorenzo Berkshire Headcanons
Blaise Zabini Headcanons
Tom Riddle Headcanons
Draco Malfoy Headcanons
Masterlist
Minors DNI | 18+
___
Theodore Nott | Physique
6’5 - 6'6 | Sorry, he’s just super tall in my head. I'm a tall girl so let me have this.
Lean, but lanky? He's in the in-between stage.
He doesn’t have a lot of muscle, but you can still see muscle?
He's a little insecure about his body, especially since Mattheo and Lorenzo are more on the buff side.
Would never go to the gym though, he only works out during Quidditch.
Resting bitch face, but I feel like this is established.
HOT AS FUCK! HOT! I MEAN HOT AS FUCK! | Shameless Theo girl. SHAMELESS! |
Theodore Nott | Personality
He’s an asshole, but he’s funny. He’s more on the quiet side, but once in a while, he’ll say something witty that’ll make everyone in the room laugh.
Don’t get into an argument with him. He has a comeback for everything. It’s actually really fucking annoying.
So blunt. He won’t share his opinion unless asked or if it’s important to him but don’t ask him unless you want the complete and total truth.
Plays the piano and guitar.
He loves books. He reads a lot of romance, but he would never share that with anyone.
He’s very smart. He studies a little here and there, but mostly he just understands everything naturally. He doesn’t even really have to pay attention that much in class. Something else that’s really fucking annoying.
I feel like he's not amazing at DADA. He's not bad at it, but he gets in his head sometimes and will mess up.
He’s a homebody, but he’ll go out to parties every once in a while. Mainly to hang out with his boys and keep up appearances.
He’s prideful. He comes from a good family and he likes to make his presence known.
A chaser in Quidditch and is ALWAYS showing off. It pisses Draco off so much.
He smokes, but not a ton. I’d say a pack every 2-3 days.
Smokes weed though. He’s not reckless with it, but if he’s at a party or relaxing without shit to do? He’s lighting up.
Eats SO MUCH. Especially when he's high. He is always in the mood for food.
Theodore Nott | Casenova
He does have a lot of sex, but it’s usually one woman for a couple of weeks. He doesn’t talk to her outside of their meetups and will (and has) embarrassed a couple of women who even thought it was okay to approach him.
He’s an ASSHOLE!
The reason why these women keep crawling back? Theodore Nott fucks you like he loves you. He’s so attentive.
A MUNCH! Theodore Nott is a munch, through and through. He's so good at it too.
It's because he speaks Italian. Anyone who speaks the tongue of romance also speaks the tongue of absolutely devouring some pussy. I know that's not true for all, but let me DREAM!
He's also skilled with his fingers. | Piano and guitar player. Duh. |
As previously mentioned, this man is prideful. He will spend hours on a woman pulling out every sound, causing every jolt, and basking in the way they scream his name because it feeds his ego.
He's not doing all of that because he cares, he just likes knowing he's good at what he does. And he is good.
He’s a dom, and he is ROUGH, but he talks them through it the whole time. SO MUCH PRAISE!
This pussy is mine, toria. All fucking mine. There isn't a single man on this Earth who deserves to feel you like this.
I know, baby. Just cum on my cock one more time. That's all I need. Let me feel you just one more time.
Fuck, bella, you make me feel so good.
He'll have them thinking their vag was crafted by Aphrodite herself, meanwhile he's pulling these lines on every woman he fucks.
And when he starts speaking Italian? These women EAT IT UP!
I might be a strong woman, but I'd let this man use me too.
They eat him up too. Not just figuratively. It's become a guessing game for the boys trying to figure out who his hickey came from.
Theo isn't one to kiss and tell. He just smirks and lays his head back, exposing his hickey covered neck as his friends keep asking questions they'll never get the answers to.
And after sex? He’s the perfect, sweet lover. So time after time these women come crawling back despite how he treats them in public and he uses them over and over again.
Then he gets bored, he moves on to the next woman, and the cycle repeats.
Theodore Nott | Friend
Closest to Mattheo and Blaise
Talks a lot more around his friends. Jokes left and right.
Always doing some dumb shit. Pranks with Mattheo? His favorite pastime.
He likes going out with his boys, being reckless, blowing his money, and just being young.
He loves his friends because they remind him what it’s like to be free.
He’d never admit it to any of them, but meeting them was one of the best things that ever happened to him.
His friends (Aka Draco and Lorenzo) are bullies, but he couldn’t be bothered with that. He’s more of a fuck around a find out type of guy.
Yes, I believe Lorenzo Berkshire is an asshole. Please don’t come for me. Or do.
He takes care of his friends silently. He won’t ask them how their day is, but he’ll show up with their favorite things whenever he notices them feeling bad.
Very attentive. He is very in tune with the needs of the group.
Theodore Nott | Boyfriend
UGH, I LOVE THIS PART
He is used to being an asshole toward women so he’s not sure how to navigate his first relationship
Gift Giving and Acts of Service
He doesn’t know how to properly express his feelings so he just buys you shit and does stuff for you
PRINCESS TREATMENT
I’m talking back rubs, foot rubs, | If you want that. I know some people have a feet thing. | putting on your shoes, zipping up your dress, washing you in the shower or bath, doing your hair, carrying you when your feet hurt. Something broke? He’ll fix it. You need something? Baby, I’ve got it.
He serves you first in the great hall. He puts your food on your plate first and makes sure you have all of your favorites. He likes to give you food. He likes to eat so he likes it when you eat.
Buys you flowers. He always keeps a flower from the arrangement so he can tell when yours is about to die.
Dates 2-3 times a month.
Always buying you gifts. He will FORCE you to take them. Why should I not spoil you?
He can be a little misogynistic when it comes to taking care of you.
He's more of a feminist. He doesn't give a shit and thinks women can do whatever they want. However, some gender roles are just ingrained in him.
Do not try to pay for dinner. Don't try to pay for anything while you're out with him. Do you want these people to think I can't take care of my girl?
Will not let you carry anything heavy. In private he might let you get away with it if you argue, but not in public. He's a man and it's his job to act like the man. | I don't mind men like this too much. Like I'm an independent woman, but I'm also a damsel in distress. Please do everything for me.
Anything his baby wants his baby gets. He has a big protector/provider mindset. He will do anything for you because you’re precious and you shouldn’t have to do anything yourself.
Teddy, I’ve got it.
I know, cara mia, but let me do it.
His hands are always on you. Physical Touch.
When you first start dating it’s subtle. Hand on your back, hands grazing in the hallways.
He can be a little possessive. Or a lot.
He used to fuck the girlfriends of the guys he didn’t like so he doesn’t like when guys come around you. He keeps you close as a way to claim you.
Toxic
When he gets more comfortable around you it’s a hand on your waist, arm around your shoulder, occasionally smacking your ass.
He’s a thigh guy, but he appreciates everything. Boobs, butt, thighs, neck, arm, whatever. The female body is beautiful and he loves every inch.
Greets you in the hallways by putting his arms around you from behind.
Neck. Kisses. Always kissing your neck. Licking your neck. Biting your neck.
Kisses you like it’s the last time he’ll ever see you. Sometimes it looks like he's swallowing you, your friends think it's kinda gross.
Walks you to each and every class and makes out with you before them
He just loves to spend time with you.
Quality Time
As I mentioned before, he’s a homebody. He loves just staying in with you. After your last class, he always goes to your dorm or you go to his. Study together. Astronomy Tower dates.
He follows you around like a lost puppy. He’s so lover-boy-coded.
He didn’t pay attention to the girls before you, but he has no problem giving you his full attention whenever and wherever you need it. Call him a simp? He doesn’t care. That’s his girl.
He can be a little controlling sometimes. He likes to know where you are, and who you’re with.
He walks you everywhere. You’re meeting up with your friends after he spent two hours railing you against a wall? He’s walking you the whole way, he can't miss a second of you.
And afterward, he always gives you a kiss and a hug goodbye. I’ll miss you, amore. Like you two won’t see each other in a couple of hours. Then he'll keep pulling you closer to him every time you try to break free because he needs just one more kiss.
He’ll always make you late. Sometimes it's because he is smothering you in kisses. Other times, he spends a good ten minutes holding you and telling you how much he loves you. Words of Affirmation.
Once Theodore Nott is fully and completely comfortable in his love with you he will NOT shut up. He can be so cheesy too, he comes up with the most eye-roll-inducing stuff.
I know I won't make it to heaven, but at least I was given a taste before I go.
I think someone might have stolen the stars and put them in your eyes.
Then there's the unhinged cheesy ones.
Why should I waste time studying herbs with the power to heal wounds when the only healing power I need is right in between your legs?
Are you the witch who lost her broom? I couldn't find it, but I have something else long and hard that you can ride. I've heard it can last all. night. long.
ON AND ON. HE WON'T STOP.
Then of course you have his more serious declarations of love. Usually when you're sleeping because whenever he tries to say this stuff when you're awake he feels like his heart is about to backflip into his ass.
When I look at your face, I feel as if the sun finally rises. My world fades from dark to light and in that moment; and only in that moment, I find happiness. I am not a good man, I don't know what I did in life to deserve you but I promise to spend every second making sure I'm worthy of keeping you.
| Alright, that was a little cute. Maybe a little too cheesy, let’s move on. |
Theodore Not | Committed Lover
Tongue shoved in between your legs 24/7. On his knees in the closet, with you above him sitting on a desk, laying down between your legs, you sitting on his face. Anytime, anywhere he is tasting you like it’s the last thing he ever could do.
He is so good with his fingers. | Once again guys, he plays piano and guitar. | Fast fingers working you open every chance he gets.
Seriously every chance he gets.
He loves fingering you in the middle of class, by the lake, in the hallways, and anywhere in public. | With your consent of course.
I SAID IT ONCE AND ILL SAY IT AGAIN! ROUGH!
He loves doggy. Having you bent over while he smacks your ass raw and dicks you down like a fucking animal.
I mean leg up, holding you back by the ties around your wrist while he thrust his huge ass cock | At least 8 inches and THICK | into your SOAKED and achy cunt because you know he took his TIME getting you ready.
Literal hours sucking on your clit while he fucked you with his nicely long and thick fingers
Now he’s pounding into you at an unthinkable speed while you’re screaming, tears running down your face, and mind going blank as he fucks you dumb.
He lets you ride him sometimes. He loves seeing you on top, but he still never fully gives you control. He keeps his hands firm on your waist or ass and you can never get away with teasing him for long before he holds you in place and fucks into you like a man possessed.
He likes the soft stuff too.
Hands holding onto your hips as he grinds his cock into your pussy.
Head stuffed into your neck as he continuously moans. I could stay here forever. You’re all I need.
___
A/N: Overall, Theo is a toxic asshole but it’s okay because he magically becomes the perfect gentleman (not really) when we start dating him.
#Theodore nott#Theo nott#Theodore nott x reader#Theodore nott headcanons#Theo nott headcanons#Theo nott x y/n#Slytherin boys#Theodore nott smut#Theo nott smut#slytherin boys smut#Mattheo riddle#lorenzo berkshire#tom riddle#blaise zabini#draco malfoy#slytherin#harry potter#mattheo riddle smut#draco malfoy smut#lorenzo berkshire smut#Blaise zabini smut#tom riddle smut
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Reads of the Week: Jan 21-Jan 27
*indicates smut
never leaving by @bettymylove
Haven’t I Made It Obvious by @angelfrombeneth
You know better* by @hpimagines
Blind Date by @magiclostinfantasy
shower* by @bettymylove
Thighs* by @suugarbabe
7 Minutes* by @angelfrombeneth
Hatred by @rainyreading
Cara Mia* by @maeblack
Smoke Slow by @thatdammchickennugget
Flirt by @suugarbabe
The Seconds Before by @distantdarlings
Through Rain or Shine* by @slytherinslut0
Can I…? by @thatdammchickennugget
shower* by @bettymylove
delicate by @riddleriddles
Red Wine by @halucynator
Sleeping with a prefect* by @papercorgiworld
A Healing Touch by @anawritez-posts
Runaway Bride by @anawritez-posts
“I’m your boyfriend” by @anawritez-posts
Can’t keep hexing guys by @anawritez-posts
Jealousy Unleashed by @anawritez-posts
Heart Break of Sorrows by @anawritez-posts
Beneath His Cold Embrace by @anawritez-posts
Locker room activities* by @jayybugg
Peaceful Sleep by @suugarbabe
Someone Gets Hurt by @anawritez-posts
Runaway Bride by @anawritez-posts
Can’t be Shared* by @etfrin
#theodore nott#theodore nott x reader#theodore nott smut#lorenzo berkshire#lorenzo berkshire x reader#lorenzo berkshire smut#matteo riddle#mattheo riddle x reader#mattheo riddle smut#tom riddle#tom riddle x reader#tom riddle smut#draco malfoy#draco malfoy x reader#draco malfoy smut#pansy parkinson#pansy parkinson x reader#pansy parkinson smut#coriolanus snow#coriolanus snow x reader#coriolanus snow smut#harry potter universe#masterlist#week reads#weekly reading
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Slytherin boys x reader (kinky shit vol.1)
lowk embarrassed because this is from my shortlived unhinged wattpad era, but here you go (i didn’t want this to just rot away in my google docs drafts), vol.2 in case you’re interested
Warnings: overstimulation kink, sexual content, no plot, mdni, yk the drill, not proof read
Mattheo Riddle:
He enjoys it so much when you continue to suck him after he just came down your throat. His tip is always hypersensitive, and he turns into a groaning and swearing mess when you swirl your tongue around it. Although he tries to control it, the occasional whimper slips through too. The feeling of pain and pleasure combined makes his swollen dick twitch in your mouth and come extremely quickly.
“Fuck princess, only you can make me feel like this”
Tom Riddle:
He will almost always tie you up, either to the headboard, or arms behind your back. After he comes inside you, he knows that you’re still sensitive.
Since he himself is too, he’ll shove three fingers in you and watch as you squirm and whimper from the overwhelming sensation. Your insides are barely able to handle the immediate penetration and start to feel like they’re twisting. He’ll either tell you to beg for release or for him to stop. “Use your words, doll”/“You’re such a fucking slut for me, you deserve whatever I do to you”/“Beg for it you desperate slut”
You always come a minimum of three times, and he will make sure that you can barely walk afterwards. The control that he has over you just turns him on all the more.
Theodore Nott:
After you finish, he’ll tell you to finger yourself and to come once more. He enjoys having the power over you and you being obedient. Of course you do what he wants, painfully so and during it, he’ll control your speed and the amount of fingers. “Good girl, doing whatever I tell her to”/“Such a good girl for me”/“Come on, I know you can do it”
You also love all the praise, so you always make sure to put on a show for him.
After the pleasurable torture you put yourself through, he always gives you sweet aftercare.
Blaise Zabini:
He especially loves it when you ride him. Normally he wants both of you to come at the same time, but sometimes he tells you to control yourself a little after he came already. Then, after he came, he’ll tell you to keep going at his own expense, and watches you as you use him for your own pleasure. Every time you clench around him a moan slips out as he goes completely insane from the overstimulation on his already exhausted cock. It makes him feel incredibly turned on, to be at your mercy and to be used. Yes princess, use me all you want”/“All this is yours”/“Fuck you look hot on top of me”
Enzo Berkshire:
Overstimulation is one of his biggest kinks, so any way, shape or form of it is always extremely welcome. You make sure to do it to the point where he is completely out of breath and can only whimper under your control. After doing it, you sometimes wrap your hand around him and jerk him to come once more. At that point he’s already a moaning mess and his dick is consistently red and leaking. “Please can I cum?”/“You make me feel so good”
Instead of your hand, you also use your mouth sometimes. You deepthroat him for maximum pleasure and you feel his hips bucking and begging for renewed release.
Draco Malfoy:
For him it involves a bit of temp play too, but after both of you finish he’ll get a few ice cubes to drag out your post-orgasm pleasure. He’ll slowly drag them along your hardened nipples, all the way to your clit, holding the cube in place there. The sudden change in temperature always brings out uncontrollably loud moans from you and makes you squirm around. As soon as you move too much, he’ll shove one cube inside you, which causes you to melt into a whimpering mess. “Bad girls need to be punished”/“You look so pathetic, barely being able to stay still”
#slytherin boys#slytherin boys x reader#slytherin boys x you#mattheo riddle x reader#draco malfoy x reader#lorenzo berkshire x reader#theodore nott x you#tom riddle x you#slytherin boys smut#mattheo riddle smut#theodore nott x reader#blaise zabini x you#draco malfoy smut#theodore nott#mattheo riddle#tom riddle#lorenzo berkshire#blaise zabini#draco malfoy#harry potter smut#lorenzo berkshire x you
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little dove.
pairing: tom riddle x reader.
song inspiration: if u think i'm pretty by artemas.
author's note: can't believe this is my first tom fic, but please know that this man awakens the feral, unhinged side of me. let me slytherin to your chamber of secrets and ride that basilisk tommy 😏
This was a stupid, idiotic, and terrible idea.
Unfortunately for you, those were the conditions in which Harry and Ron worked best under. In your defense, you tried to talk them out of the prank, but the boys were determined to leave their mark. You suppose you could’ve told Hermione, but you didn’t want to interrupt her date with Draco. When it came to talking sense into their thick skulls, you were completely and utterly alone.
After much argument, you finally accepted that you weren’t going to get anywhere with Harry and Ron. The only thing you could do was supervise their reckless pursuits and minimize the damage as much as possible. So here you were, sneaking into the dungeons under the cover of darkness.
“This will be the best seventh year prank yet,” Ron whispered as he trailed close behind. “Fred and George are going to be so jealous.”
“If we don’t die from the cold first,” Harry quipped sarcastically, slightly shivering underneath the invisibility cloak draped over the three of you. “The Slytherins really take the whole cold-blooded thing quite literally, don’t they?”
You huffed in response, trying your best to muffle your steps. “Can we please focus on not getting caught? We need to be in and out of the dungeons before the prefects start their patrols.”
The boys nodded as you inched further into the serpent’s nest. Luckily, the corridor that housed Professor Snape’s office was empty. You held your breath as you began to unravel the wards protecting the entrance. You had to give it to him, Snape was incredibly thorough when it came to his security measures. Good thing you were an expert on unlocking charms.
With a final flick of your wand, the door gave way and creaked open. Ron and Harry wore matching grins as the three of you spilled into the office. Closing the door behind you, Harry’s green eyes crinkled with mischief.
“Let’s get started.”
Surprisingly, Harry and Ron’s half-arsed plan was actually coming together. The three of you worked in silence, the boys handing you paints and supplies at the snap of your fingers. After a few more strokes, you flicked your paintbrush over the wall and cocked your head to examine your work. Nearly every single surface of Professor Snape’s office was covered in your illustrations—technically vandalism according to wizarding law.
The drawings, imbued with the same magic that powered the moving portraits, depicted caricatures of Professor Snape, all of which scurried like rats along the walls, hurtling globs of paint at one another. The head of Slytherin house was going to have a fit when he saw what you’d done to his office. You almost wished you could be there in the morning to witness the look on Snape’s face when he uncovered your masterpiece.
“Bloody brilliant!” Ron exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear as he packed up the paints and brushes. “You’ve really outdone yourself, Y/N.”
Harry chuckled and nudged your shoulder. “See? You do have a taste for trouble, after all.”
You rolled your eyes fondly. “Yeah, yeah. Now help me clean up so we can go.”
As you carefully wiped the office of any trace of the three of you, Harry suddenly stopped dead in his tracks. You looked up, ready to scold him for idling, but fell silent when you saw the panicked expression on his face.
“What is it?” you asked quietly.
Harry held up his hand and slowly opened the door, peeking out into the darkness. A muffled clicking that sounded an awful lot like footsteps echoed from the corridor. “Do you hear that?”
Ron cursed lowly. “The prefects must’ve started their rounds early.”
You peered over Harry’s shoulder and felt the color drain from your face. “It’s not the prefects,” you said, swallowing thickly. “It’s the Head Boy.”
Both the boys swore under their breaths. You steeled yourself, knowing that panic was not going to get you anywhere. As quietly as possible, you retrieved Harry’s cloak and beckoned the boys underneath it.
“We’re so fucked,” Ron mumbled.
“No, we’re not,” you chided sternly. “Get under the cloak and don’t make a sound.”
Harry scooted in beside you, clutching the invisible fabric over his shoulders. “Do you have a plan?”
You nodded. “Run like hell and don’t get caught.”
“That’s a bloody terrible plan!” said Ron.
With a glare, you tugged the redhead underneath the cloak. “Then please, let us hear your brilliant idea, Ronald.” Ron stayed quiet, his freckled face etched with fear. “That’s what I thought. Now stay close and for Merlin’s sake, try not to stomp around like a damned erumpent.”
Stupid.
Idiotic.
Terrible.
Every ounce of apprehension you felt earlier that night came rushing back as the three of you cowered in the darkness. It was pitch-black in the corridor, but you didn’t dare cast lumos for fear of getting caught. Thankfully, a small light up ahead provided you with a vague sense of direction. You remembered passing the lit emerald sconce on the way down. All you had to do was get back to the entrance without running into the head boy.
The glimmer of hope became clearer and clearer as you neared the stairs that would lead you out of the dungeons. You were so close. Barely a few metres away from freedom.
Just as you thought you were safe, Ron knocked into a table, sending one of the snake sculptures guarding the alcove to the common room tumbling. The marble cracked against the concrete, breaking into a million pieces just like your hope of escaping.
“Run!” you huffed, urging the boys to go on.
A solid plan if you hadn’t been nearly blind in the dark. You could hear the shuffling of footsteps beside you. Three sets belonging to you, Harry, and Ron, while an unknown fourth inched closer and closer. Whoever it was wasn’t running, but they were definitely in pursuit.
You stumbled through the dark, nearly tripping over your own feet. From up ahead, you could hear Harry and Ron urging you on. As you broke into a sprint, paints and brushes came spilling out of your satchel. Under any other circumstance, you would’ve abandoned your art supplies, but leaving them behind would fully incriminate the three of you. In the time it took to pick up the damning evidence, you stopped hearing your friend’s voices.
It would’ve worried you, but in all honesty, you were relieved. If you could no longer hear the boys, then that meant they made it safely out of the serpent’s nest. A feat in itself given their track record. Those two couldn’t be inconspicuous if they tried. Without the need to worry for them, you were confident that you’d be able to slip out undetected.
In hindsight, you were perhaps a tad bit overconfident. You were great at sneaking around, but apparently not good enough to slip the head boy’s notice. As soon as you started to creep past the dormitories, you ran into a wall that hadn’t been there before.
Except it wasn’t a wall.
It was a strong, firm chest. A chest that belonged to none other than Tom Riddle.
Leave it to your terrible luck to run straight into the arms of the scariest boy in the castle.
Determined not to cower, you lifted your chin defiantly and faced Tom head on. “Head Boy,” you greeted in acknowledgment.
Emerald eyes unflinchingly surveyed you, that intense green stare sweeping from the top of your head to the bottom of your feet. Beneath the faint glow of the Black Lake pouring in through the stained glass windows, you could’ve easily mistaken Tom Riddle for an angel. He looked like an illustration straight out of the Sistine Chapel. Beautiful, intricate, perfect.
Yet utterly terrifying.
Danger prickled at your skin as Tom’s lips curved into a sinister smirk. “My, my, what do we have here? A little dove out of her cage.”
You bristled as he brushed a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his voice a seductive caress. It was low, husky, and a little rough around the edges. Just like its speaker. Tom plucked a paintbrush out of your satchel and examined it between his fingers. “I saw what you did to Snape’s office. Quite artistic, aren’t you?”
A part of you considered denying it, but it would’ve been a futile attempt. There was paint splattered all over your skirt and flecks of it were already drying on your skin. Tom had quite literally caught you red handed. The only thing you could do was to own up to it and face whatever consequences came as a result of your foolish actions.
“Are you going to turn me in to the headmaster?”
Tom shook his head, his brown wavy hair falling over one eye. “Not until I catch your two helpers.”
Panic seized your body. It may be too late for you, but Tom hadn’t seen either Harry or Ron. There was a chance they could come out of this unscathed.
“I was alone,” you declared with your chin held high. “There was no one else with me.”
Anger contorted Tom’s handsome features. Those emerald eyes lit up in flames as he backed you into a wall, bracketing each side of your head with his arms as he leaned down. You tried not to cower under the intensity of his stare, but gods was it hard. Tom towered a good foot over you and as if that weren’t intimidating enough, he also blocked every possibility of escape with his body.
“Don’t lie to me, little dove,” Tom growled, tilting your chin up with one hand. “I heard three sets of footsteps running through the corridor.”
You swallowed thickly, praying to Merlin to grant you the ability to flawlessly lie your arse off. “I swear, it was just me. No one else. I did it all by myself.”
Tom hummed as if unconvinced. “Well, you’re certainly on your own now. Your idiotic friends left you down in the dungeons all alone. Don’t you know that dangerous things lurk in the dark around here, Y/N?”
“Like I said, I was alone.”
“So it appears,” Tom said, flashing you a smile that told you he was the most dangerous thing lurking in the dungeons. “Poor little dove wandering the serpent’s nest all on her own. Hasn’t anyone told you that us Slytherins have teeth?”
“Why?” In an idiotic surge of courage, the words slipped out of your mouth before you could pull them back in. “Do you plan on biting me, Tom?”
Tom grabbed your jaw roughly, making you whimper in surprise. “Insolent girl. You’ll learn your lesson soon enough.”
Without warning, he grabbed you by the elbow and started dragging you down the corridor. At first, you were certain that Tom was taking you to Dumbledore’s office, but as the minutes ticked by, you realized that you were going in the opposite direction. If anything, he was leading you right into the heart of the dungeons.
Tom’s grip tightened to the point of pain as he guided you up a set of twin staircases, practically flying up the steps on the right side, which you assumed led to the dormitories. It had a similar layout to the Gryffindor common room, except instead of leading into the towers, the narrow hallway opened into an intricate maze in the lower levels of the castle.
Nestled into the underbelly of Hogwarts was a large, dark room that was surrounded by more stained glass walls that looked out into the Black Lake. A school of fish swam by as Tom ushered you through the door, which he promptly locked behind him with a series of complicated spells you had no hope of deciphering.
You were trapped. Alone in a room. With Tom Riddle.
Upon closer inspection, you surmised that this had to be his private suite. It was twice as large as your dorm back in the towers and extremely private. A luxury that only the Head Boy and Head Girl enjoyed.
“You’ve been very bad, little dove,” Tom reprimanded. "You deserve to be punished, but I’ll tell you what. Give up the names of your accomplices and I might find it in my heart to go easy on you.”
His drawling voice echoed in the bedroom as he leaned back against his desk, twirling his wand between his fingers. The look he leveled at you is enough to awaken your fear. Plus another emotion that you couldn’t quite place your finger on.
Merlin, Tom was sizing you up like he was the lion and you were the helpless deer frolicking through the meadow. You steeled yourself and doubled down on your lies.
“There was no one else, Tom.”
He smirked as though you’d given him the answer he’d hoped to hear. Tom stopped twirling his wand, tucking it away in his back pocket as he stalked over to you. “Very well, then. I suppose you’ll just have to endure their punishments too.”
You swallowed past the lump in your throat. It occurred to you that while you had your wand, you were completely and utterly defenseless against Tom. It should’ve scared you shitless, but instead you felt a strange sort of thrill as he came closer. “What…what sort of punishment?”
A smirk curved at his lips as he fisted your hair between his fingers and tilted your head back to meet his gaze. “I think you know, babydoll.”
Heat ignited in your veins as your tongue darted out to sweep across your bottom lip. “This is crazy,” you whispered. “Shouldn’t you be telling Dumbledore? Snape? Someone in charge?”
“I’m the one in charge,” Tom growled as he shoved you against his bookshelf. Your back hit solid wood, disturbing the neatly organized tomes behind you. “You snuck into my dungeons, under my watch, and defaced my home. I will dole out your punishment as I see fit.”
“And if I refuse?” You asked, hoping that you emulated the bravery that your house was infamous for.
Tom pressed his body against yours, leaving barely a hairsbreadth between you as he flashed you a feral smile. “It’s laughable that you still think you have a choice.”
“I could scream bloody murder. Wake the entire castle up and alert everyone that you're holding a fellow student against her will."
“You could,” Tom mused as amusement flickered in his eyes. “But we both know you won’t.”
“What makes you so sure?”
“You’d never risk such a scandalous act to go on your record. First vandalizing Professor Snape’s office, then sneaking into the Head Boy’s dorm after curfew? You’re on a downward spiral, aren’t you, little dove?”
“I didn’t sneak into your dorm. You dragged me in here.”
“Please,” Tom said with a scoff. “Let’s not pretend that you don’t want to be here. I’ve been watching you, you know. The perfect little Gryffindor good girl. You think you have everyone fooled, but not me.” You groaned as he pinned your hips in place, sliding his thigh between your legs.
“You think I haven’t noticed the way you look at me in class? Bending over in that tiny little skirt of yours hoping I’ll glance your way? Leaving the buttons to your blouse undone so you can give me a view of that lacy red bra? Biting your lip when you’re thinking dirty thoughts about me in class?”
You flushed at his spot on assessment. Tom might be right on the mark, but you weren’t about to admit that to him. Not when your pride was on the line. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Dirty little liar.” Tom whispered against the shell of your ear. “You know, your mental shields are impressive, but it’s like you can’t help yourself when I’m around. You’re practically broadcasting your filthy fantasies every time we’re in the same room.”
Fuck.
This was bad.
This was really fucking bad.
How many times had you sat in class staring at Tom while thinking the filthiest, dirtiest thoughts about him? Tom bending you over a desk. Tom slipping his fingers under your skirt. Tom making you scream with his head between your thighs.
All this time, he had complete access to those dirty daydreams.
“That’s right, doll. You may be a powerful occlumens, but you’re no match for my legilimency.” He chuckled darkly, caressing your jaw.
A heavy pressure weighed down the constraints of your defenses as Tom poked around in your mind, teasing and taunting as a lover would. The act of him prodding around in your subconscious was oddly sensual, mixing pain and pleasure together as he waited for you to yield.
There’s no use hiding now, Tom whispered into your subconscious. I’ve already seen inside your mind, doll. And your thoughts are just as fucking filthy as mine.
Glimpses of your deepest, darkest fantasies flashed through your mind. The images were a never ending rolodex of filth and smut. Tom fucking you like his perfect little slut. Tom panting above you as he spread your legs. Tom working you with his fingers until you were a sobbing, whimpering mess.
He was right. You were shameless.
But so was he. A new image of you on your knees while Tom unbuckled his belt, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip as you stared up expectantly took center stage. Since it was from his point of view, you could only assume that he was showing you one of his fantasies. It was oddly satisfying. Tom was basking in the depravity with you, sharing his equally fucked up thoughts.
“Tom…” you breathed, leaning into his touch as he continued to pin you against the wooden bookshelf.
“Not Tom,” he grunted gruffly. “You’ll address me properly from now on, little dove.”
This was so fucked up and yet so hot at the same time. You were so turned on you could hardly speak. “Yes, sir.”
“That’s better, doll.” Tom declared with a smirk. “Now that I’ve been inside of your head, I plan on being inside you in every other way as well. Starting with that pretty little mouth of yours. On your knees, little dove.”
A strange sense of deja vu washed over you as you knelt onto the floor. The concrete nipped at your knees, but you welcomed the pain. It kept you centered as your body buzzed with anticipation. You watched as Tom unbuckled his belt, deft fingers slowly sliding his boxers down as he gripped himself with one hand.
With a smirk, Tom brushed his thumb over your bottom lip, looking down at you with lust blown eyes. “Open wide, babydoll.”
Tom pumped himself slowly. The sight of his cock made your mouth water, your head spinning and dizzy with desire as you tried to calculate how you were going to take all of him. The tip of his cock glistened with precum as he rubbed over it. Tom was thick, long, and absolutely delicious. You groaned as he rubbed his head over your lips, the salty taste of his arousal resting on your tongue.
“I won’t ask again,” Tom warned. “Be a good girl and open your mouth. I’ll make you regret it if you don’t.”
“Yes, sir.”
A satisfied smile graced his handsome face before he shoved his way in. Your lips parted for him, opening your mouth wider as you accommodated his size. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
You nodded obediently, eyes filling with tears as you took Tom all the way back. He fisted your hair in one hand and rocked against your mouth, hitting the back of your throat. A garbled sound crawled out of your chest, but it was soon silenced with Tom’s impatient thrusts.
“Fuck,” Tom cursed. “So wet and warm. Such a perfect little throat. What a pity that I’m about to ruin it.”
Ruin was an understatement. Tom fucked your throat with precise thrusts, angling deeper and deeper and groaning as you gagged on his cock. He was so deep that you could feel him bruising your tonsils. The more he abused your throat, the wetter your pussy got. You were practically soaked as you moaned on his cock, sucking your cheeks in and bobbing your head up and down to take more of him.
“Such pretty noises,” Tom said, his fingers curling through your hair to the point of pain. He tugged at your scalp, forcing you to meet his eyes as you sucked him off. “If your mouth feels this good around my cock, then I can’t even imagine what your cunt will feel like.”
You groaned in pleasure, making Tom’s eye roll back from the vibrations. Controlled, compulsive, and perfectly composed Tom Riddle was fading before you, replaced by a man driven only by his base desires. He was an animal lost to lust and so were you.
Tom squeezed your throat, groaning when he felt himself moving beneath his grip. “Your throat was made to be fucked, doll. You like that, don’t you? You love it when I’m rough.”
You struggled to nod in acknowledgement, saliva sloppily collecting in the corner of your mouth as you continued to let him use you for his own pleasure. Tom chuckled at your pathetic attempt to respond. “Don’t bother answering, little dove. You won’t be able to speak when I’m done with you anyways.”
The filth flowing effortlessly from his mouth made you clench your thighs together. Tom threw his head back, those pretty curls tousled and plastered against his sweat soaked skin. A moan tore through his chest as he got closer and closer, fucking into your mouth with reckless abandon. He chased after his orgasm, shuddering as he spurted hot ribbons down your throat.
“Fuck. You see what you do to me? Swallow, doll. Every single fucking drop.”
The fantasies that you’ve been harboring for the past few years finally came to fruition, but none of it came close to reality. Tom was a fucking god. A masterpiece coming undone above you. You’ve never seen such a beautiful sight. All the artwork in the world would’ve paled in comparison to witnessing Tom Riddle at his most vulnerable.
In awe and wonder, you looked up at him with mascara streaked eyes, tears and saliva staining your face. Tom hauled you to your feet and claimed you with his mouth. The taste of him was still on your lips, but Tom didn’t seem to mind as he parted your lips with his tongue. The kiss was neither sweet nor innocent. It was dark and dangerous and there was an edge of possessiveness in the way he demanded your submission. Almost like he was marking his territory.
Tongues, teeth, and lips met with a clash as Tom carried you over to his desk. His books and journals clattered to the ground as his teeth grazed the column of your throat. The taste of him was intoxicating and you licked, sucked, and nipped at every inch of skin he allowed access to. You gasped into his mouth as Tom parted your legs, not bothering to warn you as he palmed your soaked panties.
Your core clenched as he slipped a finger inside of your pussy. A squelching sound filled the room as Tom added another digit, pumping you full and fucking you with his middle and pointer fingers as you begged for more. He knew exactly what he was doing. Tom studied you like one of his books, with meticulous precision and alarming intensity, pouring all of his efforts and attention into making your body sing.
It wasn’t long before that familiar warmth singed your veins, your moans growing louder and more desperate as you clawed at Tom’s back. You were so, so close. You were practically riding his hand as he brought you closer to the precipice. Just when you were about to come, Tom pulled away and denied you the orgasm.
“Don’t be mistaken, doll. This is still a punishment.” Tom said as you whined from the loss. He silenced your complaints by bending you over his desk.
“Tom, please—“ You clawed at the wood as he lined up and filled you with one sharp thrust. “Oh my fucking gods.”
Tom gripped your hips, the slap of his skin against yours echoing in the room as he fucked you from behind. He was relentless, thrusting in and out and arching your back while he railed the absolute life out of you. It wasn’t long before you were getting close again. The sharp angles of his thrusts had him hitting all the right spots, making your knees weak and your pussy sensitive from the roughness of his actions. Sensing that you were close, he rutted into you, letting that tension uncoil before ripping the orgasm away from you once more. You whined, fresh tears soaking your cheeks as you chased after that high.
“Like I said, this is still a punishment,” Tom taunted, slowing his thrusts to a snail’s pace. “That’s two orgasms I’ve taken from you, which leaves you with two more. Four for every wall you defaced. It should be twelve, given that you had help, but I’m in a forgiving mood. I think I’ll just spank the other eight out of you instead.”
With your head bowed, you wiped the tears off of your cheeks and braced yourself. You knew that he was telling the truth. To Tom, this was mercy. You should’ve found it sadistic, but you fucking loved it. Maybe you were a masochist. Whatever the case may be, it seemed like the two of you were a match made in heaven.
“I’ll be good,” you whispered hoarsely. Your throat was still raw and sore from earlier. “I’ll happily take the punishment. I promise I’ll be good, sir.”
Tom chuckled darkly, relishing in your submission. His hand came down with a hard smack against your right ass cheek, making you jolt from the contact. Before you could recover, he repeated the action on the left.
“That’s two,” Tom said proudly. “Can you count out the rest, babydoll?”
You nodded, biting down on your bottom lip every time his large hand came down on your ass. His rings bit into the soft flesh of your skin, but it was a delicious sort of pain. One that you could easily become addicted to.
Three. Tom tugged at your hair.
Four. Teeth nipped at your shoulder.
Five. Fingers curled around your throat.
Six. Hips slammed against you.
Seven. Lips trailed down your spine.
Eight. Moans echoed in your ears.
When Tom slipped his fingers down to your clit, your eyes rolled back so hard that you saw fucking heaven. “It’s not a punishment if you’re enjoying yourself so much, little dove. I can feel you creaming my cock. You look so innocent, but you’re just a filthy fucking slut for me, aren’t you?”
“Yes sir.”
“So. Fucking. Perfect.”
Tom emphasized each word with a thrust and worked your clit faster and faster, bringing you to the edge. This time, he didn’t pull back. Tom let the orgasm build until it threatened to wipe you out entirely. White hot heat coursed through your veins as stars exploded behind your eyes. You whimpered through the intensity of the orgasm. After being denied four times, the pleasure ripped through your body so fiercely that you nearly blacked out.
“Fuck, let me fill you up,” Tom growled. “Take it, doll. I want you dripping with my cum.”
“Yes, yes, oh gods. Please cum inside of me, sir.”
Tom released a guttural grunt, gripping your hips in place as he filled you to the brim. Nothing in the world compared to the sensation of Tom filling you with his warm, wet cum. You glanced behind you and found him staring intently as he slipped out of you, stuffing his cum back into your pussy as it dripped down your folds. You bit your lip, utterly aroused by how fucking sexy this man was.
His gaze met yours, a proud smile curving against his lips as he swept you off your feet and into his arms. “I think I’ll keep you, little dove.”
#i welcome him would open arms and open legs#tom riddle#tom riddle smut#tom marvolo riddle#tom riddle x reader#tom riddle x y/n#tom riddle imagine#tom riddle fic
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Revenge? | M.R
Plot: Your bf cheats on you, what happens next 🙀
(TW: NSFW)
It was preposterous. Absolutely unbelievable. You stood there watching as your boyfriend- soon to be was ex making out with the girl he told you not to worry about, which of course you obviously should’ve.
Your blood boiled as you walked up to him, grabbing him by the collar and ripping him away as roughly as possible. You weren’t just mad, you were furious. How could he do this to you? “You fucking pussy. You quite literally could’ve just ended things with me you prick. I’m so done with you.” Not giving him any more chances or pity apologies you walked away, once out of the room you ran to your dorm.
Later that night
A much needed crying session later you heard a harsh knock on your door. Without getting up or knowing who it was you whispered a charm and unlocked your door, to your surprise it was Mattheo Riddle. “Y/n, you do know there’s a such thing as a silencing spell, don’t you” His eyes had a piercing gaze for a moment before he finished examining you, his face fell slightly yet he fixed his demeanor, slowly stepping inside and closing your door.
“Either you’re blasted, or you were crying, so which one is it.” He said blatantly sitting down on a chair near your bed. “Fuck off Mattheo, you don’t even talk to me” You flipped over in bed, annoyed at the unwanted intrusion of your privacy. “If you didn’t want me in here you wouldnt have opened the door” He sent a small smirk your way despite you not being able to see it. “In my defense I didn’t even know it was you”
You both sat there in silence before you reluctantly turned back over to face him, “Why haven’t you left yet” You sighed deeply rolling your eyes looking at him. “If you’re really just gonna be a bitch I can leave” He rolled his eyes in return, beginning to stand up. Without thinking you held your arm up grabbing his instinctively “Don’t go, I’m sorry.” You quietly apologized causing him to slowly sit back down.
You removed your hand from his and to break the awkward silence you spoke, “My boyfriend, well I guess now my ex boyfriend cheated on me. I literally caught him making out with her openly in public” I scoffed still dumbfounded as to how oblivious I was. “What an ass. I’ve seen him, you’re too hot for that anyway”. His words made your cheeks blush slightly so you attempted to hide it by stretching.
“I just can’t believe he played me like that” I looked back at him, “You know, we could get some revenge and have some fun” He winked at you and smirked. “And what exactly would this revenge entail?” I cocked my eyebrow at him curious yet intrigued. “Well we could act like we’ve been dating this entire time, pretend we’re finally ‘going public’, and by that I mean we full send it by making out in front of Parkinson and tell her skanky ass we’ve been together so she can spill it to the entirety of this school.”
To say I was shocked was an understatement. I mean the plan obviously needed some major readjustments and we’d need to come up with a story but it honestly could work. “Are you gonna say something or am I just gonna sit here and look like an idiot who came up with an awful plan” He shook my head in his hands catching my attention.
“Yes.” I looked him in the eyes. “We could make out tomorrow then, but you know, I could use a bit of practice” he said nonchalantly , you were still making eye contact so there was no way for you to ignore this, your face was getting hotter by the second, no telling how red you were visibly. “Come on sweetheart, I have a feeling you need the practice too, don’t you?” He smirked.
No thinking needed you just nodded your head yes, and just as thoughtless as it was for you to nod your head, he immediately launched towards you and connected your lips. A soft moan left your lips as soon as you felt his tongue enter your mouth, attempting to fight for dominance in the kiss and failing miserably. His hand came up and softly squeezed your throat causing another soft moan to escape, you covered your mouth instinctively but he ripped it away replacing it back with his lips.
Keeping a grip on your neck he parted your legs with his left arm and rested his knee between your thighs, purposefully rubbing against your heat. More small moans were coming out and you could feel him getting hard against your stomach. He leaned closer to your ear, kissing and nibbling a bit before whispering, “Be careful amor, if you keep moaning like that I might just have to fuck you already”
His knee never stopped rubbing against you, and you were more turned on in this moment than any time with your ex. You didn’t want this to end, even if he wouldn’t continue with your plan afterwards. “Then do it Matt, Fuck me.” You looked at him and gave the best fuck me eyes You could. With zero hesitation he yanked your pants down discarding them across the room followed by your underwear. You started quickly taking your shirt off as he himself got undressed.
All of this happened in what seemed like under a minute, before your lips were back attached to eachother and he was rubbing his tip up and down your soaking entrance. “Fucking hell Y/n, I knew you were hot but I didn’t think you’d have this pretty of a fucking pussy” He began to speak but it turned into more of a moan as he sunk himself deeper and deeper into your dripping cunt. “Fuck, and you’re dripping” He moaned once fully inside.
You couldn’t help but let out a loud moan, needing to adjust to the big size. He looked so hot above you too, especially being able to see his abs from your angle “Oh my god! Please keep going” You looked at him, already needing and begging for more. “Shit you’re so perfect. I’m going to ruin this fucking pussy” He whispered the silencing spell quickly before he began to harshly pound into you. Louder moans than before began filling the room as his aching dick fucked in and out of you.
He pulled out and got off of the bed, yanking you to the edge and flipping you onto your stomach. “Put your ass up for me princess” He smacked your ass harshly making you moan, a soft chuckle leaving his lips at that. You were scared he might’ve wanted to do anal, yet you obliged nervously arching your back. Without warning he slammed into you, definitely hitting your cervix. A pain and pleasure induced moan left your lips and that only fueled his fire.
He kept going at a relentless speed, your eyes began rolling back and you couldn’t hold back any noises even if you tried. You felt yourself starting to unfold, your stomach tying in knots as your release inched closer. “I’m so fucking close Mattheo fuck fuck” You could barely get your words out, they were more like whimpers and screams. “Cum all over my dick, I’m not done with you yet” He slapped your ass which sent you over the edge.
You were seeing stars, your body was beginning to shake as he pounded into you, his arm reached under and began rubbing over your previously teased clit, it was already swollen and sensitive and you couldn’t control anything. Tears started to roll down your face as you came all over his dick, tightening around him making him moan more and more.
Your body collapsed down but he picked you up by your hips and kept going, his thrusts got slower but they were still deep and consistent. The overstimulation was driving you insane, it was something you didn’t know you needed. He pulled out and flipped you back onto your back. “If im going to cum, and if it’s going to be because of you, then I need to see your gorgeous face and these amazing fucking tits” He smirked at you and slowly thrusted back inside of you before grabbing your boobs and putting your left nipple in his mouth sucking and pinching the other.
Your walls clenched around his dick once again, and you felt another orgasm coming, this time it was more bearable yet you were still so overstimulated and turned on you were a moaning mess. He started speeding up and picked his head up to look at you, his hand stayed on your boobs massaging them and pinching your nipples but he was close. Even though it’s your first time together you could tell.
His thrusts were getting sloppier by the second, he threw his head back moaning and throwing around curse words, with a few more hard thrusts you felt his thick cum coat your walls and as he pulled out slowly the warm substance dripped out slowly. “Fucking hell” You sighed completely laying back exhausted. “So, we still on for the plan?” He winked.
I rly hope this is good but tbh the more I read it the more I don’t like it 😭😭
Also! I feel like lowk this would be a good mini story/ series? Like the actual revenge and such, maybe them getting into a relationship… who knowssss. But it’s only a thought I’d need your feedback!!:)!!
#harry potter#harry potter fanfiction#harry potter smut#slytherin boys#fanfic#harry potter reader insert#harrypotterboys#smut#draco malfoy#tom riddle#slytherin boys smut#slytherin#mattheoxreader#mattheo riddle#mattheo x you#mattheo x y/n#mattheo smut#mattheo riddle x reader#mattheo riddle x you#slytherin boys x reader#slytherin boys x you#draco x y/n#draco x you#draco smut#tom riddle x you#tom marvolo riddle#tom riddle x y/n#tom riddle x reader
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Brother's Toy
Imagine:
Being known as the riddle brothers plaything that everyone needs to leave you alone and not look at you for too long because one or both of the brothers were always with you but one of the griffendores was ballsy enough to smack your ass as you walked down the hall, not surprising at all mattheo beat him to a pulp as Tom brought you back to their dorm.
"Fuck we're gonna have to smack that ass baby intil our hand prints have covered that sick fucks one and we're gonna fuck you intill you forget about that whole thing because your ours and no one will ever touch you like that again we'll make sure of it"
#harry potter#harry potter smut#harry potter smut imagine#harry potter x reader#harry potter x reader smut#harry potter fancast#tom riddle smut#tom riddle#tom riddle imagine#tom riddle smut imagine#tom riddle x reader#tom riddle x reader smut#mattheo riddle#mattheo riddle smut#mattheo riddle x reader#mattheo riddle x reader smut#mattheo riddle imagine#mattheo riddle smut imagine
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Obsession
Tom Riddle X Fem OC/Reader
Word Count: 5K
Warnings: Mild language, Graphic, Smut, Toxic, Possessive, Protective, Angst, Fluff, Suggestive, Anger…
Prompt: Y/N Black is a mystery to many. She isn’t interested in making friends, only her studies. However, unbeknownst to many, one boy has piqued her interest——Tom Riddle. Little did she know, he had an obsession with her.
Sidenote: I did use some spells from the vampire diaries just for the heck of it. I may do a part two, but I’m not sure if it really needs it. I’ll leave it up to you guys!
Everyone seemed more chattier than usual. Maybe it was the upcoming Yule Ball or maybe it was because holidays were approaching. However, you hated the buzzing chatter, the obnoxious shouting, and all of the crowded halls. You had tried to go to the library as an escape from this madness, but everyone had infiltrated the library even.
You were the Scrooge that everybody was painfully aware of as you stormed through the halls with your books clutched to your chest. If you were a Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, or Gryffindor, they would have laughed at the irked expression on your face. However, knowing you were a Slytherin strikes fear in many.
Not to mention you were a mystery to many. You were oh so quiet, along with a freakishly amount of smart, and an unearthly amount of beautiful. You chose to stick to yourself, choosing to not make any friends. You instead chose to have acquaintances in case a group project popped up, however you normally managed to worm your way out of that so you could work alone.
That was how you preferred doing things, alone. Other students have given up on trying to befriend you, seeing it as pointless. Guys would still try and ask you out, but their advances failed. They hadn’t noticed that your interest was piqued by a boy already. However, it seemed that he was just like you.
Tom Riddle was a handsome young man with jet black curly-ish hair and dark brown eyes that looked almost black from afar. He was fairly tall and had a lean look. His face was always blank…passive as he studied or walked through the halls or even when he was with his group of “friends”. They were his followers in his mind, not his friends. To anyone else, they saw them as a happy friend group.
You had noticed the things that anyone would pick up about Tom from afar, like his intelligence. Tom excelled in all of his classes, in fact he was tied at the top of the year with you. He too was introverted, preferring to be alone and in silence. For someone as passive as Tom, you noticed things he did. When he was judging something, he’d lean back in his chair, occasionally quirking an eyebrow as if he was impressed or annoyed.
When he was in a rather intuitive or creative mood, his eyes seemed to be a lighter shade of brown and he would get carried away in his journal. When he was thinking, he would zone out on his journal or something in the room.
You noticed that he’d clench his jaw until a muscle there ticked when he got angered. When he was annoyed, he had a tendency to sigh.
“Y/N!” Narcissa calls.
She stood among Tom Riddle and all of his “friends”. Tom’s eyes find you who was clearly irritated. You had made your way through the crowd and head towards her.
“Yes?” You ask.
“Hey, that is no way to talk to your favorite cousin.” Narcissa scolds.
“Who said you were my favorite?” You ask.
“It’s because it is me.” Bellatrix grins.
“Not you either.” You mutter.
“Moving on, have you seen Sirius or Regulus?” She asks.
“I’m not their keeper, Narcissa.” You mutter.
“They said they were meeting up with you.” She says, sighing in frustration.
“Well they didn’t. I need to get to class.” You mutter.
Before you could go, Bellatrix grabs your upper arm in a tight grip. You turn back to her with a clenched jaw as Narcissa steps back, muttering an “Uh-Oh”.
“Leaving so soon, cousin?” She mocks.
“Bellatrix, I’m warning you now to let go or you will regret it.” You warn calmly.
“What will you do? You're all goody two shoes, yet your in Slytherin. I think that dumb hat sorted you into the wrong house.” She says.
You pull your wand free, pointing it at her as you mutter “Stupefy”. You roll your eyes as she flies backwards through the crowd.
“If I wouldn’t get expelled, I would definitely crucio you or use the killing curse on you for your information. However, nothing is stopping me once we graduate.” You say, before turning and leaving the group stunned.
Tom smiles slightly as he watches you walk away, finding himself even more intrigued with you than he originally was. Call it an interest or maybe an obsession at this point. He liked to watch you when he could. He noticed things about you that he was sure no one else noticed.
He knew you were a quiet and mysterious girl, but underneath that “innocent” mask you wore, he knew there was a strong woman with a dangerous mind. You were far from innocent and today proved that more so to him. To anyone else, you were that innocent girl. However, when you let your guard down if you were stressed or angry or irritated, he could see the danger swirling in your (eye color) eyes.
He lets his smile fall, regaining his composure before turning back to his group. Bellatrix was back on her feet, a scowl on her face as Narcissa helped hold her up. He watches as Sirius and Regulus join them.
“What is wrong with you?” Sirius asks.
“Your bloody sister is what is wrong! She used stupefy on me!” She snaps.
“How pissed off did you make her?” Regulus chuckles, shaking his head.
“You both told me you were meeting with her about becoming a follower. Yet, she hasn’t seen either of you all day. So, where were you both off to?” Narcissa snaps.
“Have you seen how mad she can get? We learned not to mess around when she gets mad, Issa. When she is mad, she will take down anyone in her path. We’ve learned how to avoid making her mad. So, you go have that conversation with her because I rather not get crucio’d again.” Sirius says.
“Wow.” Avery mutters.
“She may be quiet and keeps to herself, but Y/N is a ticking time-bomb when you make her mad. She is intelligent, and maybe too intelligent for her own good. She also liked being stronger than others in magic, so that is why she studies so hard. However, because she is so antisocial and introverted, even as a child before Hogwarts, she took her studies serious, so she doesn’t understand fun. She is boring.” Sirius says.
“I bet she hasn’t ever shagged anyone, or snogged! A sixth year and a virgin! That is embarrassing.” Bellatrix cackles.
That further piqued Tom’s interest about you.. He found himself having more thoughts about you, both innocent and sinful thoughts. However, his sinful thoughts changed to the exception of you being a virgin. That made him feel a possessiveness over you he wasn’t quite sure how to feel about. However, he knew that the idea of you being with anyone else was sickening to him. You were his, you just didn’t know it yet.
Your studies past fairly quickly and you were heading towards the Great Hall. You sit at your normal spot, Regulus sitting next to you. Tom sat a table down with his “friends”, however his focus was on you. Regulus gently closed your books, pushing them away.
“Eat, then study.” He stresses softly.
As irritated as you were about him taking away your books, you listened. Tom quirked a brow, finding himself wondering if it was often you got so distracted by your studies that you didn’t take care of yourself the best. His eyes roam over you slowly, noticing the dark circles under your eyes along with the thinning face of yours. So, it was often, he thought.
“Y/N! My favorite sister! How has your day been?” Sirius asks as plops down across from you.
“What do you want?” You ask, sighing as you pushed your food around on your plate.
“Nothing to do with studies I hope, she is taking a break to eat.” Regulus stresses.
You close your eyes as the two start to argue, resting your chin on your hand. You open your eyes when Regulus stands, his voice getting louder.
“Enough!” You snap, the two instantly quieting.
It had gotten the attention of those around your table. You take in a slow breath before letting it out, regaining your composure before looking between your brothers with a blank look.
“You two bicker like a bunch of children. This is our brief moment to be able to hang out, however you both don’t know how to push aside your differences because you both are too hot-headed and irrational.” You rant.
You snatch up your books that Regulus had pushed away from you earlier and stood from the table as you left the Great Hall.
Tom watched you leave before looking between your brothers, before his eyes fell on your plate of untouched food. He puts some food in his bag, going unnoticed and decides to leave himself. He made his way to the library, heading to the forbidden section where he assumed you’d be. He feels a brief moment of pride flare in his chest, right about where you had gone. He clears his throat and you look up from your notes.
“Here. I noticed you didn’t eat.” He says.
His voice surprised you. It was deep, soft and mysterious. He pulled out some food he took from the Great Hall and handed it to you.
“Thank you.” You murmur.
He nods, going to leave and you begin working on your studies again. You sigh as a loud group comes into the library.
“Would you allow me to show you a place I like to go?” He asks, looking back down at you.
“I don’t see why not.” You admit, gathering your stuff before standing.
You follow behind Tom, not quite sure where he was taking you. You knew of his quest to become the Dark Lord. Some of his followers had big mouths, so you heard more than everyone thought you knew. They assumed you were clueless about his current quest and they all were tip-toeing around who would be the one to break the news to you. However, you knew. You knew more than them in fact.
He looks around, making sure there was no other students or professors in the hall before a door appears in the wall. Your lips part from surprise as he ushers you in, following behind you. You looked around the empty room in awe.
“The Room of Requirements…I’ve heard of it and I’ve looked everywhere for it.” You mumble.
“Yes, I searched for this room for awhile myself. I later learned that the room only will appear in great need.” Tom explains, seeming rather smug about finding it.
“The room seems to know you quite well…and you seem to know the room quite well too. Otherwise, the door wouldn’t have appeared because I’m sure my studies are not in great need.” You say, turning back to him.
You feel a heat spread across your body as you catch his eyes on you. The dark eyes slowly trail over you, mapping out your body. His eyes stop on your blouse where you had a few buttons undone since you were alone and had started to get a little hot in the confined aisles of the forbidden section in the library.
He steps forward, closing the distance between the two of you. You look up, not realizing that he was this tall. He puts a hand out and gently grasps your hip before trailing it up your side. He tugs on the middle of your blouse, revealing more of your cleavage, before he starts undoing the remaining buttons.
“That and maybe because I am in great need of you.” He murmurs, leaning down to trail his lips along your neck.
You shiver, feeling a trail of goosebumps being left behind from the ghost touch. His hands find your shoulders where he pushes the robes off before pushing your blouse off along with it. He leaves a soft kiss on your racing pulse, before he pulls back to look down at you.
You were left in a dark green lace bra, and he tsked quietly, approving the way they made your breasts look. The bra seemed to work as a push-up bra, but really Narcissa had gotten you the wrong size this year.
His eyes trail over your stomach, noting the soft curves he would be sure to feel later. His eyes focus on the short school-girl skirt, also Narcissa’s doing. You didn’t fret much about it as you knew you’d wear your robe more often than not. You were wearing knee high stockings with a pair of mary-janes.
“The school girl skirt, hmph, your just asking to be fucked, aren’t you?” He asks, a smirk slowly spreading across his face.
“Tom.” You say breathlessly.
“Leave the skirt on, but take your panties off.” He orders.
He begins unbuttoning his own shirt, watching you. You were frozen in place before you start to work the panties down. He held a hand out, looking at you expectantly. Your shaky hand places the matching dark green lace panties into his hand.
He balls it up and sticks it in his blazer pocket. You watch as his long, slender fingers work his belt off. Your eyes focused on his veiny hands.
“Hands and knees.” He says.
You slowly drop to your knees, turning over, no longer able to watch his next move. You get on your hands, moving so you are on your elbows. You arch your back down, sticking your ass out more.
Tom licks his lips slowly, swallowing hard as he watches you get into the position. He inhales deeply, watching as you arch your back. He puts a clenched fist to his mouth, lightly biting himself, not quite sure if this was really happening. The skirt hid nothing. He could see the big globes that he found himself really attracted to. He never would have taken himself as an ass man.
His eyes trail further down to see your glistening entrance. He pushes his pants off before he gets on the ground behind you. He brushes your hair over your shoulder, before he finds himself tracing down your spine lightly. You shiver unintentionally, however he enjoyed the effect he on you.
“How bad do you want me?” He murmurs into your ear.
“Please, Tom.” You whisper as you push your hips back.
“Pathetic. Do you want my cock or not?” He asks, grabbing a fistful of your hair and roughly jerking your head back.
A breathless moan fills the thick air in the room as a heat spreads across your scalp. He clenches his jaw, feeling himself twitch from the sound he heard. It was the beginning of a beautiful symphony, one he didn’t realize how much he’d become crazed for.
“Tom! Please! I need you!” You cry, feeling frustrated that he wasn’t touching you where you wanted to be touched.
He smirks, gently grabbing your hips. He uses his other hand to guide himself into your dripping entrance. He groans, your walls immediately grasping onto him, suffocating him. You moan lowly, your hands grasping at the stone floor as your eyes flutter shut.
“Fuck.” He curses, working himself in and out of you slowly.
“Tom, please.” You plead, pushing your hips back.
“Is my cock the first one you’ve ever had?” He asks, his eyes burning in the back of your head as he awaited your response.
“Yes! Please, Tom!” You cry.
He couldn’t help the grin across his face. He heard it, but he wasn’t sure if maybe you just kept them out of the loop. But, knowing he was the one to take your virginity was exhilirating to him.
“I better be the only cock you have here. You are mine.” He warns.
“Yes! I-I’m yours, Tom!” You moan as he starts to move at a faster pace.
“I’ll kill any boy who dares to be with you, because you are mine! I’ll punish you if I see you talking to some boy.” He growls, his hips now savagely moving.
You cry for more, your soft and loud moans were music to his ears. He breathed heavily along with you as held onto your hips tightly. Skin smacking echoed in the room and you heard his soft groan which sent you coming. He groans louder as you clench around him, coming around him.
You stood on shaky legs, buttoning up your blouse and grimacing as you feel your shared climaxes slowly leaking out of you. He grasps your chin, looking at you with a stern look.
“Keep it in. I want you to know who fucked you.” He says.
“Tom, I need my panties.” You say as your cheeks flush.
“Find another way to keep it in.” He says, before focusing back on straightening himself out.
You pull your blazer on along with your robes before grabbing your books and hurrying out. You reach the Slytherin common room, Narcissa and Bellatrix looking up from their game of cards. Sirius and Regulus’s backs were to you.
“Oh my god, you got shagged!” Narcissa exclaims with a grin.
“Who was it?” Bellatrix asks.
“Yeah, I’d like to know.” Sirius seethes, taking in your disheveled hair and the hickeys on your neck.
Narcissa looks at your knees to see that they were scraped up, but you choose to ignore your brothers and cousins as you make your way past them. Regulus laughs, yelling “Atta girl!”
A small smile graces your lips at your little brothers comment. He too was protective of you, but he knew you inside and out. He and you were far closer than you were with Sirius. You get to your dorm and think of showering, but then your mind wanders to Tom. Keep it in…
You pull on a pair of fresh panties as you change into your nightware. You found yourself tossing and turning for a long while before you fell asleep. By the time it was time to wake up, you were exhausted. You could sleep in, but that ruins your morning routine.
You go to the shower, grimacing at the burn in your stomach. It was now that you realized you didn’t eat once yesterday. You finished up in the bathroom before pulling on a black lingerie set. You gasp as your door opens and Tom walks in.
“I knew you’d be awake.” He says, his eyes slowly roaming over you and some of the bruises he had made from where he held you still.
“Tom, what are you doing here?” You ask, grabbing a random robe and pulling it on.
“I’ve seen it all, darling. I wanted to tell you no more skirts.” He says and you look at him confused.
“I…Is it because how short they are?” You ask.
“That and the school girl skirt should be meant for my eyes when we are alone. Do you understand?” He asks.
“I…yes, Tom.” You say quietly.
He grins, looking at your neck where you had several hickeys before he leaves. You frown and look at the outfit you had prepared for this morning. It consisted of a school girl skirt.You sigh, grabbing a dark green skater skirt that ended a little about mid-thigh. There wasn’t much you could do about the length of your skirts until you went shopping again.
You grab your button up blouse and your Slytherin tie. You grab the blazer and sigh when you see dust on it. You hang it back up, deciding you will have to clean it later because you don’t have time now.
You pull on your knee socks and mary-janes when there was a knock at your dorm door. You open it and see it was Narcissa.
“I came bearing gifts.” She says.
You open the door and she guides you to the small vanity as she begins to help you cover the hickeys on your neck and jawline.
“So, who was it?” She asks.
“I’m not sure if I’m ready to say who it was yet.” You murmur.
“Did he force you? I’ll make him suffer the worst ways imaginable.” She says seriously.
“No, no, he didn’t force me. I’m just not sure what is happening yet. I don’t know if it merely was just another shag to him or if it’ll turn into something. However, he’s being a little controlling of what I wear, mainly my skirts.” You explain.
“I feel like I already know who this is.” She says, sighing.
“Who?” You ask.
“Tom Riddle?” She asks.
“Oh…how did you know?” You ask.
“Tom is…many things. I don’t know if he is capable of love and a relationship. He is a very possessive man. And I mean to the extent that it isn't healthy. He is ill-tempered and easily jealous. Not to mention he can be obsessive too. I personally think you should put some distance between the two of you and let things die down. I don’t know what his intentions are, but I’m sure they aren’t good.” She explains.
“Alright.” You say quietly.
You were quite sure how to feel. But, you knew Narcissa meant well and you also knew that she knew Tom better than you. You trusted her advice almost as you trusted Regulus’s.
“All done.” She says.
“Thank you, Issa.” You murmur and she nods.
She leaves you to your thoughts and you realize you need to head down to the Great Hall for breakfast. You gather your books and make your way out of your dorm in a daze. You head to the Great Hall and see everyone was already there. You ignore the burning stare that you knew belonged to Tom Riddle.
“Hey, you okay? You seem out of it? And your running late.” Regulus says.
“Oh, I’m fine. I think I’m just in need of food. I realized I didn’t eat once yesterday.” You explain.
“Y/N/N, you’ve got to take better care of yourself. I will start treating you like I did the first year.” He warns.
“I know, I know, and I promise I’ll do better.” You sigh.
“Why is Riddle staring at you? He seems pissed.” He whispers.
“Oh, who knows.” You sigh, briefly glancing at Tom.
Tom was staring at your neck where your hickeys would be, but thanks to Narcissa, they were no longer there. You managed to eat some of your food before it began to make you feel sick. You felt suffocated with Tom glaring daggers into you and Sirius was no better.
“Stop it.” Regulus warns Sirius.
“I want to know who it was.” He snaps, looking back at you.
You clench your jaw, narrowing your eyes at him as you take a slow breath in and let it out. You pull your wand out and keep your hand rested on the table, so you don’t draw anymore attention to you.
“Keep glaring, brother and watch how fast you end up in the hospital wing.” You warn lowly.
“Guys.” Narcissa warns.
“Who is he?” He growls lowly, leaning closer to you.
“Oh shit. Take cover!” Regulus says, going under the table.
You reach forward, grabbing Sirius’s tie and pull him closer as your face heats from anger.
“Astronomy tower, now.” You grit out.
He stands and storms out and you stand as Regulus pokes his head out.
“Don’t kill him please.” He pleads.
You storm out of the Great Hall, wand in hand as you make your way towards the Astronomy tower to see him already there and waiting.
“Who is it!?” He snaps as you both circle each other.
“Sirius, it’s none of your business. Stop trying to act like the older and protective brother. Stop acting like you care!” You snap.
“I do care! You're my sister.” He snaps.
“Guys. Let’s try to keep calm.” Narcissa says as she walks in with her group.
“Yeah, let’s just hug it out and make up.” Regulus says.
“I want to know who has my sister acting like a tramp.” He snaps.
“Oh no….oh no! Oh no! Back up, back up, back up!” Regulus says as he pushes everyone back.
“Bombarda!” You fast and Sirius curses as he tries to dodge the mini explosion you casted his way.
“Confundo!” He shouts, but you dodge it.
“Everte Statum.” You cast, watching as he flies back against the wall, his wand falling in the process.
You walk forward, grabbing his wand before looking down at him.
“Impulsa Animositas!” You snap, gaining confused looks from around the room.
“I…Y/N, have you been creating spells again?” Regulus asks cautiously.
“Again?” Narcissa asks alarmed.
“What did you do to me?” Sirius snaps.
“Say something mean. To any of us.” You say, smirking.
“What the hell did you do to me you crazy bi—ow!” He exclaims after feeling a jolt of electricity go through you.
“Just as I assumed. This spell will zap you everytime you try and say something mean.” You say.
“That’s child’s play you idiot!” He snaps before groaning.
“Hm. This isn’t. Lihednat Dolchitni.” You cast.
His hands find his throat as he try’s to breath. You clench your fist tighter, watching how he struggles more before you wave your hand and it stops. He leans forward, breathing heavily.
“Tread carefully, brother. I have far more up my sleeve than you wish to believe.” You spat.
“You…you will get in so much trouble for creating spells. Regulus and I told you that you need to stop.” He breathes heavily.
“Then keep your mouths shut otherwise I’ll make you suffer in the worst unimaginable ways.” You say.
With that, you turn and walk past the group who seemed shocked. You head back to the Great Hall, gathering your items before heading back to your dorm. You were too upset and riled up to do anything. So, instead you hurry to your dorm and lock the door.
You pace frantically, running your hands through your hair. You let a breath out that you hadn’t noticed you were holding.
“You’re okay. You’re okay. Everything is okay.” You mumble to yourself.
The lock on your door clicks, so you turn and see Tom. He closes the door back and turns to you with that normal passive and cold look.
“That was…impressive.” He says.
“Tom, I really rather be alone right now.” You mutter.
“Why cover the marks I left? I left them for a reason.” He says, his voice hardening as his eyes turn several shades darker.
“I didn’t want to walk around with them showing. People would have said something and I don’t want to deal with that. Plus, I rather the school not know I was your play thing.” You mutter harshly, turning your back to him.
“Who said you were a play thing because I don’t recall ever telling you that?” He snaps.
“Tell me this, Tom. Are you one for commitment? Would you be in an exclusive relationship? Huh, tell me that!” You snap harshly as you turn to face him again.
“I can do commitment. Before, I’d say no. However, for you I am willing to do it. I’m willing to be in an exclusive relationship as you call it. Because I can’t ever get you out of my head! You are all I can focus on! It’s so…so irritating, yet I love it at the same time.” He growls.
“Tom, there are going to have to be some rules set in place if we are to do something. Like the skirt thing this morning. I only wear skirts.” You say.
“Fine. Wear your skirts, well not the school girl ones, however I can’t promise that some asshole won’t end up dead for looking. You are mine.” He snaps.
“Okay, and what about the marks?” You ask.
“You shouldn’t care what anyone says. You never have before, so why care now? I want people to know that you belong to me. I want the guys to realize that you aren’t a possibility anymore. You are mine.” He says, closing the distance between you both.
You look up as his hand wraps around your throat. He tightens his hand and you let a shaky breath out as you clench your thighs.
“You barely know me.” You mumble.
“I know more than you think, darling. You piqued my interest. When that happens, I tend to learn everything I can.” He murmurs, brushing his nose against yours before kissing you softly.
You hum, moving your hands to his hair. You whine when he pulls back, a smirk on his lips.
“What does that mean? How have you learned about me if you just started speaking to me yesterday?” You ask.
“Because I might be a bit obsessive when it comes to learning of the things that interest me. I won’t stop until I know everything.” He says.
There was banging on your dorm door and you sigh, going to walk past Tom, but he loops an arm around your waist.
“Who is it?” Tom asks, annoyed.
“It’s Bella, me and Regulus. Is Y/N in there?” Narcissa says.
“Well go away. I’m about to fuck my girl.” He snaps.
Your face heats up as you cover your mouth to hide your gasp. Narcissa gasps, Regulus laughs and yells for you to get it while Bellatrix throws a fit.
“We are not doing anything! We are just talking!” You exclaim.
“Talking, huh?” He says, quirking a brow at you as he slips a hand beneath your skirt.
You let a shaky breath out as he trails his hand up your thigh. He gets to your underwear, sliding two fingers beneath the lacy fabric.
“Tom.” You mumble.
“Talking and yet you're so wet for me. Do you want my cock again?” He asks, sliding a finger in you.
Your eyes flutter close and he grins widely, loving the way you reacted to his touch. You were the violin and he was the violinist. He played you so gracefully and loved the beautiful symphony that came from your mouth. It was his greatest obsession.
#harry potter fluff#harry potter angst#harry potter#harry potter reader insert#tom riddle#tom riddle fanfiction#tom riddle x reader#tom riddle angst#tom riddle x you#tom riddle imagine#dark lord#mild language#smut#harry potter smut#tom riddle smut#tom riddle fic#tom riddle fluff#tom riddle oneshot#tom riddle x y/n#tom riddle x oc#tom riddle x fem!reader#k!nk mention#obsessive behavior#mauraders#harry potter universe#imagine#smut imagine#smut warning
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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!)
#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
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Theodore Nott. | that’s what i said.
info: your boyfriend was telling you about his day, when he began speaking fluent Italian, knowing damn well you only knew select words. when you asked him to repeat it, he had you come sit on his lap and ended up doing a little more than just repeating it.
word count: 3k
tags: 18+, literally pure smut. pure lorenzo italian daddy type smut. lots of italian translation (apologies to all my italians out there if they’re a little off) lots of praise, riding, piv, dirty talk.
Reclining across from you, Theodore Nott your lovely boyfriend, exuded an air of relaxed confidence while seated comfortably on the expansive leather couch in his dorm room. His legs were stretched wide, one arm casually draped over the armrest--each of his current mannerisms acting as physical testaments to the ease with which he inhabited the space.
As he delved into the narrative of his day, you, nestled in the love seat opposite him, eagerly absorbed the symphony of his voice. It was a melody that effortlessly traversed between English and Italian, a linguistic dance that had always held a special place in your heart.
His words held an irresistible charm, each syllable cascading like liquid honey off his tongue. The profound rasp of his voice, entwined with his seductive Italian accent stirred something indescribable within your body. The prospect of listening to him like this every day for the rest of your life fueled your anticipation, a certainty that the allure would never lose its magic. It was a sensation you eagerly anticipated, knowing that the richness of his voice would forever remain a timeless delight.
Yet, within the fluidity of his storytelling, Theodore suddenly shifted into Italian, weaving complete sentences with a gaze that lingered through half-lidded eyes, as if this linguistic transformation were the most natural thing in the world. Ordinarily, you might have interrupted him, gently reminding him of your language limitations, but today, well, you just couldn't bring yourself to do so.
You were almost in awe, unable to deny that there was an enchanting quality to the way the words curled off his tongue. That, coupled with the intensity of his stare, seemingly compelled you to stay silent, as if under a trance. You found yourself captivated, clinging to every indecipherable syllable, a familiar heat beginning to kindle between your thighs.
It was as if he momentarily lost himself in the labyrinth of his thoughts, forgetting, if only for an instant, that your understanding of the language was confined solely to select phrases and words. This linguistic detour left you with a quizzical frown, a silent plea for translation in the midst of his enchanting monologue, and finally, noting your confusion after what felt like ages, he paused, cocking a charming eyebrow at you.
"Something on your mind, Bella?" he teased, leisurely spreading his legs further as his gaze meandered from your eyes to your lips, only to return, locking onto your gaze once more. "You appear a touch...lost."
"Theo, I must confess--I haven't the slightest idea what you just said," you admitted, a playful pout gracing your lips. Your eyes sparkled with a blend of curiosity and mischief. "And I know you're well aware that was far beyond my linguistic expertise."
"All this time, and you still haven't mastered my language, Bella Mia..." Theo, with a dramatic flair, feigned a hurt expression, his stormy eyes widening ever so slightly. "You're truly breaking my heart."
Smirking, you teased, "forgive me, amore..." your fingers traced an absent pattern on the armrest, a subtle invitation. "Please, feel free to repeat it--I love the way it sounds..."
A mischievous glint sparked behind his irises, a playful confidence dancing in their depths. With a self-assured grin, he patted his lap invitingly, his messy brown locks falling effortlessly over his forehead.
"Why don't you come over here," he suggested, his tone velvety, "and I'll gladly repeat it for you?"
Your grin widened, a flicker of anticipation igniting within you as you slowly rose from the chair, not needing a second thought. His burning stare followed your every move as you veered closer to him, an intensity in his eyes that set your senses ablaze without effort. As you approached, a slow, deliberate stride, the air thickened with a tangible tension, your pulse thumping in your throat.
No matter the duration of your relationship with Theo, each touch remained an electric encounter, perpetually reminiscent of the initial spark. His reverence for your body endured, a devotion that unfolded afresh with every caress, as if every moment were a new discovery for his hands and eyes.
Stalling in front of him, you giddily pulled your lip between your teeth as his hands found yours, guiding them to his shoulders as he pulled you down to straddle his lap. The warmth of his embrace enveloped you, his hands finding a natural place on your hips.
"Mm," he purred, burying his head in the crook of your neck, inhaling a sharp breath as his fingers dug into your skin. "So beautiful, Bella..."
You stifled a mewl as he pressed careless kisses along your neck, the playful banter giving way to a charged silence as his teeth softly grazed your pulse--the unspoken language between you both pulsating with desire and connection. The messy brown waves of his hair framed a face now tinged with a sultry charm, and the mischievous glint in his eyes promised a shared secret in the language only you two understood.
As if completely instinctively, you rolled your hips against his crotch, head falling back as his hands slid around to your ass, groaning against your neck as he aided your movements, guiding you back and forth against his growing bulge. You could already feel him throbbing beneath you, your cunt clenching in need for his touch as the only thing separating your heat from his groin was your thin layer of underwear, rubbing against his trousers.
"Ho voluto scoparti tutto il giorno..." he murmured, the same phrase he'd said earlier, the one in which you didn't understand. "...sei tutto ciò a cui riesco a pensare."
Your brows furrowed, about to question him, but exasperation quickly took over as he sank his teeth into your neck. He left vivid, possessive marks on your skin, his hands sliding up and under your skirt, tracing the supple contours of your ass. As you continued to move against him, a whirlwind of desire engulfed you, and you quickly lost yourself in the intoxicating rush.
"You're so fucking sexy," he breathed, his voice a low, deep murmur, reverberating a shudder of desire down your spine, his tongue trailing a flat stripe up the side of your throat. "Ho bisogno di te, mia bellissima piccola troia." (I need you, my beautiful little slut.)
"Theo..." you whimpered, your hands entwining in his hair, fingers weaving through his tousled auburn locks. His mouth ascended, planting tender, moist kisses along the ridge of your jawline. "Please-please-"
"Mm, you like that don't you, principessa?" His voice was a seductive purr, the words wrapping around you like silk as he pulled back a hand and gave you a sharp smack on your ass, eliciting an immediate squeal from your throat. "Tu ami grinding that dolce piccola figa on me like this, hm?..." (you love)(sweet little pussy)
In response to his words, an unabashed moan escaped your lips, louder than you had initially intended. Theo responded with a low growl, his free hand moving to your jaw, cradling it delicately as he guided your lips to his. The ensuing kiss spoke a language of its own--one of desire, need, and an unfiltered passion that surpassed any linguistic expression.
Your hold on his hair intensified as you pressed against him more urgently, the rhythm quickening. His tongue boldly slipped past your teeth, exploring your mouth with fervor. Simultaneously, his hands glided to the hem of your blouse, lifting it along your stomach. The kiss briefly broke as he encouraged your arms upward, swiftly pulling your shirt over your head and discarding it on the floor.
"Così bella..." he praised, his eyes fixated on your chest adorned by the delicate, lacy fabric of your white bralette. The intensity in his gaze felt scorching, as if it could sear your skin to ash. "Così, così bella, amore mio..." (So beautiful)(so, so beautiful, my love...)
His words took your breath away, slamming your chest like a fifty pound brick, the worship in his tone enough to render you speechless. You writhed in his lap, seeking friction, more friction that what you were currently experiencing--wanting him; needing him in every possible way. You captured his lips again, rolling your hips harder, the deep moan that escaped him found itself muffled by your mouth as you worked at the buttons on his shirt, fervently popping them free as quickly as you could.
The second his chest was exposed, you scoured it like a starved animal, the skin-on-skin contact sending a desperate clench to your cunt. You mapped his muscles to your memory as though it was the first time you'd ever seen them--the strength of his biceps, his strong, powerful abdomen, all of it hot and vibrating with need--you were breathless at the sight of his beauty under your palms, a feeling that had never once even partially faltered, no matter how many times you fucked him.
"Are you going to tell me what you said, Teddy..." you murmured, a playful smile dancing on your lips as your fingers skillfully moved to his belt, assisting in its release. "That was the whole reason I came over here, was it not?"
"Words can wait, amore," Theo muttered, his voice husky with desire, his gaze locked onto yours as he undid the zipper on your skirt, watching with blaring eyes as you tugged it off, along with your panties and tossed them to the floor. "Actions speak louder, don't they?"
"Mmfh," you moaned as he pulled you back against his mouth, his tongue running along your teeth as your bodies rocked together, his fingers gripping and caressing and squeezing every bit of your body that they could.
Pulling away, he met your eyes, heavily panting for breath as he gazed at you with a hunger that matched your own. His hands shifted, urging you to back up for a moment as he pulled his pants and boxers midway down his thighs--growling low in his chest as his thick, throbbing length sprung free, glistening with precum as it smacked against his chiseled stomach. You clenched.
He pulled you back against him, gliding you in slicking your soaked cunt along the length of his cock, his eyes burning wounds into your flesh as he watched you, lost in pleasure, lost in your need for him.
"Lo vuoi, amore mio?" (You want it, my love?) His voice barely rose above a whisper as he posed the question to which he damn well knew the answer. "You want this fucking cock inside that pretty little cunt?"
You shuddered, clenching hard in anticipation, nodding as you leaned closer, grazing your lips against his, panting heavily into his mouth.
"I want to hear you say it," he growled, one hand sliding up beyond your shoulders to grip the back of your neck, locking your gaze onto his. "Beg me to fuck you."
Your nails dug into his shoulders, entire body vibrating. "Please-Theo, please fuck me..."
"No, no," he playfully clucked his tongue, delivering a sharp smack to your ass with his free hand. You instinctively clenched again, the sensation electrifying. "In Italian."
"Gods," you groaned, his ceaseless teasing consistently pushing you to the brink of physical exhilaration in all the most delightful ways. Fortunately, this was a phrase he had taught you from the very beginning, a linguistic lesson that lingered since day one. "Per favore-per favore...ho bisogno di te..." (please-please…I need you.)
He exhaled, grunting. "Good girl."
It was a combined effort--he fisted his length, angling it at your core, your hands clutching his shoulders as you sank onto him, his thick girth stretching you wide with ease. You both collectively groaned, your walls pulsing and clenching around him as you took a second to adjust to his length, before rocking your hips in a slow, erotic rhythm; working yourself open on his cock.
Theo's eyes were glued to yours, watching your every movement as though he was afraid he'd miss something if he looked away. With a grunt, his big hands found your tits, palming and groping at the soft flesh with primal urgency, brushing his thumbs against your nipples, teasing them with soft circles. Your eyes rolled, your head falling back on your shoulders as you increased your pace, soft moans slipping past your lips.
"Esatto, piccola angioletta...così perfetta..." (That's right, little angel... so perfect) he murmured, his voice low, torn with husk. "You're so goddamn tight...squeezing me so good...così buono."
"Gods, Theo..." you whimpered, relishing in how deep he was, how big. "You're so fucking big."
Your boyfriend's hands shifted again, finding your hips, sharp fingernails digging into your skin as he thrust upward to match your movements, his cock hitting all the right spots. Your own fingers burrowed into his shoulders while you throbbed around him, lungs desperate for air, and he snarled, increasing his movements, setting a brutal pace that you couldn't match.
Cries fled you, pushed from your lungs by the carnal force of his hips, and Theodore consumed you--lips sucking at your neck, hands bearing bruises into your ass. His dick stretched you wide, fucked you deep, wracking your body with its punishment, breasts bouncing, his breath coming in ragged gasps against your skin.
You tilted your head back, his fervent mouth tracing down to your collarbone, claiming his territory across as much of your skin as possible. His cock pumped into you, beckoning an orgasm from the bottom of your brain--and as if sensing your clit screaming for attention, his hand snaked between your legs, fingers smoothly gliding over it. In response, you squealed, digging your nails into his shoulders with enough force to shatter the skin, body awash with pleasure.
"That's it, amore..." he groaned, breathless, teeth nipping at your earlobe, free hand gripping your ass with enough force to batter the skin. "Ride me like the good little whore you are."
"Fuck-fuck yes," you cried, your hips moving faster, chasing your orgasm as Theo's fingers rubbed tighter circles against your clit, increasing their relentless pursuit in bringing you over the edge. "Don't stop, Theo-fuck, please don't stop..."
"I won't, my love," he murmured, lips pressed against your ear, breathing the words into your eardrums. "Wouldn't fucking dream of it."
Theo's fingers worked magic on your clit as he thrust up into your cunt faster, harder--his cock hitting your g-spot with each aggressive movement. You could feel the pressure building inside your core, your body coiling like a tightly wound spring as he worked you closer and closer to the edge.
"Theo-" you gasped, your voice practically a scream. "I'm going to-I'm going-"
"Going to what, principessa...hm?" He implored, his voice a low, husky whisper escaping through his teeth; your entire essence pulsating, trembling amid his passionate pursuit. "Verrai per me? That tight little pussy going to cum on my cock?"
You wailed, head falling back, chest swelling for air. "Yes!...Theo-please!"
"Fallo. Cum for me." He graced your ass with another harsh smack, placing wet, sloppy kisses against your jawline. "Let me feel you."
With only a few more strokes, you came undone, cunt clamping around his cock, your whole body shaking as your orgasm washed over your entirety, blazing through every nerve ending and every fucking cell. Theo's fingers continued to rub you through it, prolonging the pleasure until you were left gasping for breath, nothing more than babbling nonsensical moans and pleas leaving your lips in the aftermath of his wrath.
Theo grunted, finally peeling his hand off your clit once you were whimpering and squirming against him, gripping the back of your head and drawing your mouth to his, meeting your lips in a sloppy wet kiss, each of you sucking in sharp breaths through your nostrils as you continued to ride him, your walls tingling in post orgasmic rapture.
"Brava ragazza," he moaned into your mouth, his body shaking with the force of his impending release. "So fucking good, bambina."
His movements grew erratic, hips bucking hard as he struggled to hold off his own orgasm, the force of his pace bordering on violent. You gasped, squealed, held onto him for dear life as you rode him, attempting to match his pace, but he was possessed, starved, breaking the kiss to lean back, both hands gripping your hips, holding you steady.
"You want my cum, little slut? Hm?" He gritted out, forehead glistening with sweat, his pupils blown wide with lust. "You want me to fill up this tight little cunt?"
You gasped, nodding frantically. "Yes! Please-please!"
"fuck...I'm gonna cum..." his lids fluttered, dark eyebrows pinching in concentration, his face contorting into a scowl of effort. "Cristo-you feel così buono-shit.."
With a final thrust, he growled, groaned--his movements slowing, breath sputtering from his lungs as he exploded, pumping once, twice, three times--all before coming to a halt, cock twitching inside you as he drained his hot cum deep into your pussy. Sweat beaded each of your foreheads, bliss buzzing between your bodies as you kissed him softly, panting into his mouth as you each worked silently to come back down to earth, pulses pounding in ruthless rhythm.
Spent and fully sated, Theo cradled the back of your head, pulling you into him, his free arm snaking around your back. You wrapped your arms around his neck, keeping him inside you as you two stayed like that for a moment, relishing in the intimacy between your bodies as he softened, his lips placing tender kisses on your shoulder.
"Ho voluto scoparti tutto il giorno..." he murmured softly, a hint of amusement in his tone as he repeated the words he knew you had no idea of their meaning. "sei tutto ciò a cui riesco a pensare."
"Stop teasing me." You huffed, burying your face into the crook of his neck. "It's not very nice of you, Theo..."
He chuckled, a low hum from deep in his chest, smirking against your skin as he tightened his grip around you, brushing loose strands of hair behind your ear.
“I wanted to fuck you all day...” he murmured, lips brushing your temple. “You’re all I can think about..."
You pulled back, meeting his stormy eyes. "Is that-"
"Yes." He interrupted you with a gentle kiss, smiling against your lips. "That's what I said."
#theodorenottsmut#theodore smut#theodore nott x reader#theodorenott#theodore nott smut#theodore nott#theo nott x reader#theoriddlesmut#harry potter#draco malfoy smut#tom riddle smut#tom riddle#tom riddle x reader#tomriddle#mattheoriddle#mattheosmut#mattheo smut#mattheo riddle smut#mattheo#mattheo riddle#riddle smut#draco smut#draco malfoy#severus snape#lorenzo berkshire#lorenzo berkshire smut#lorenzozurzolo#benjaminwadsworth#theo nott smut#theo nott
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slytherin boys reacting to their darling being from Ravenclaw?👀
SLYTHERIN GUY'S REACTION TO YOU BEING IN RAVENCLAW | ✧⁺。
Pairing : (Mattheo , Tom , Theodore, Lorenzo , Draco) x reader
Note : tysm for requesting i hope you like it , Hufflepuff is next 🕺🏻🕺🏻
Warning : not proofread, my jokes lmao
MATTHEO RIDDLE
Being with Mattheo is like living in a perpetual comedy sketch. Every time you dazzle him with your Ravenclaw wit, he can't help but playfully roll his eyes and joke about feeling like a first-year struggling with a broomstick. "Seriously, babe, how do you do it?" he'd exclaim, his amusement clear in his eyes. "You've got more brainpower than a room full of Hogwarts professors, and here I am, struggling to remember which potion turns a mouse into a snuffbox."
Despite his self-deprecating humor, you can see the genuine admiration in his eyes, knowing that he's completely smitten with your cleverness. And hey, if being the smart one in the relationship means you get to see that adorable look of amazement on his face, then maybe being a Ravenclaw isn't so bad after all.
TOM RIDDLE
Tom, on the other hand, is a different story altogether. With his competitive nature and Slytherin pride, he can't stand the thought of being outsmarted by anyone, especially his own girlfriend. Every time you happen to know something he doesn't, he's quick to brush it off with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Oh, so you think you're the expert now, do you?" he'll say, a hint of annoyance creeping into his voice. "Just remember who's supposed to be the genius in this relationship."
Despite his competitive edge, you can't help but find it amusing how seriously he takes it all. After all, who knew that trivia night with your boyfriend would turn into a high-stakes battle for intellectual supremacy?
THEODORE NOTT
Theodore, on the other hand, couldn't be more different. He absolutely adores your cleverness, finding your sassy remarks and witty banter completely irresistible. "My darling beauty with brains," he'll say, flashing you a charming smile. "You keep me on my toes, love, and I wouldn't have it any other way."
With Theodore, every conversation feels like a game of verbal chess, with each witty comeback and clever remark only adding to the sparks flying between you. And hey, if being a smartass means getting to see that adorable grin on his face, then sign you up for Ravenclaw house forever.
LORENZO BERKSHIRE
Lorenzo, with his laid-back demeanor and sharp sense of humor, finds your intellect both amusing and slightly irritating at times. "Do you ever turn that brain off, or is it just permanently stuck in overdrive?" he'll tease, though there's a fondness in his eyes that tells you he wouldn't have it any other way.
Despite his occasional annoyance, you know that he secretly loves your quick wit and sharp mind, even if it means enduring the occasional eye roll or sarcastic remark.
DRACO MALFOY
And then there's Draco, the epitome of Slytherin arrogance and charm. While he may grumble about your Ravenclaw intelligence, secretly, you know he's secretly impressed by your cleverness. "Bloody hell, can't you dumb it down a bit ?" he'll joke, though there's a hint of genuine awe in his tone. "But hey, I guess it's better than having a girlfriend who thinks Quidditch is a type of biscuit."
With Draco, every conversation feels like a battle of wits, with each snarky remark and witty comeback only adding to the undeniable chemistry between you. And while he may be a bit of a brat at times, you wouldn't have him any other way. After all, what's a little friendly rivalry between Slytherin sweethearts?
。 ✧ ⁺ 。
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All to myself - Prof!Tom Riddle (smut)
Prof and priest fics are without doubt my faves. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx
Summary: Another student tries to touch the reader, so Professor Riddle has to remind his TA that she is his, only his. Pwp
Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected piv, oral(m), power play, profxta
Pairing: Prof!Tom Riddle x fem!TA!reader (1.8k words)
She felt his eyes on her, watching her every move as if he was worried about her doing something wrong, messing up his classroom. No matter what she did or touched, his eyes followed her around like a shadow. A shadow sewn to his boots, unable to escape her boss, the one whose every command she blindly followed.
“I’ll expect your papers on my desk Friday afternoon, I won’t accept any tardiness.” Professor Riddle’s voice filled the room, instantly shutting up his chatting students. All eyes were drawn to his piercing ones, staring at the tall professor who acted like their god, the deity they’d have to worship. “If you have any further questions, find (y/n), she can help you.”
(Y/n)’s eyes snapped towards the professor, hands freezing midair. Not once had he addressed her like that in class and told his students that she could help them out, hidden in the dark corners of the room as if he was scared to share her with them. She couldn’t stop the heat from flushing through her, eyes forced back down to the book she had been combing through, highlighting the pages he had asked her to prepare.
“I’ll see you next week.” With his last words echoing through the room, the students quickly rose to their feet, set on disappearing from the room and the professor they all feared. He watched them scurry out of the room, lips pulled into an almost satisfied smirk.
“Did you find the pages, (y/n)?” He leaned against the desk, arms crossed in front of his chest, no longer caring about the handful of students who were still packing their things. She could only nod, unable to meet his eyes, not when she was reminded of the way he had touched her not even twelve hours ago, once again finding comfort in one another’s touch.
Well, perhaps it wasn’t about comfort for him, perhaps it was all about claiming her, about owning the young woman who had joined his class as a student last year and was now working for him as his teaching assistant. A power hierarchy she had always feared, not daring to overstep, at least not till he had made the first move, not giving her a way out.
“Good, come to my office tonight so we can prepare for next week’s class.”
……
“Thank you so much for your help, (y/n).” A tight smile played on her lips, trying to keep her distance from the student who had found her a few minutes ago. She had been on her way to Professor Riddle’s office, carrying the books of his she had borrowed when the guy had forced her to a halt. He had instantly dropped his questions on her, smirking at the already annoyed woman.
“Of course, now, if you excuse me, I need to find Professor Riddle.” She wanted to turn from him, wanting to disappear from the student who made her feel all too uncomfortable. But his hand darted out, fingers wrapped around her wrist to keep her close. Her breath hitched in her chest at the unwanted touch, eyes flickering from her wrist to his dark pupils.
“Why the hurry, (y/n)? I think he can wait a few more minutes for you. Don’t you find it weird how he treats you? As if you’re some toy he owns.” Her throat felt tight, mouth too dry to reply, wanting to rip herself from the man’s grasp, though without any luck. The grasp he had on her wrist only got tighter, sure to leave marks she’d have to cover for the next days.
“Let me go, please.” The student’s laugh was drowned out by the sound of fast-approaching steps, making a shadow appear behind (y/n)’s frame. Instantly the student let go of (y/n), trying to flee from the scene as Professor Riddle stared him down. Within seconds the professor had the guy pressed against the nearest wall, forcing a gasp from (y/n).
“If I ever catch you touching (y/n), even looking at her, I will end you. Do you hear me, Mister Kerry?” No reply left the student, unable to speak up, only able to quickly nod his head. The second the man let go of him, he fled from the scene, leaving (y/n) and the professor behind.
For a few seconds, neither of them spoke, with Professor Riddle turning towards (y/n), eyes focused on her already bruised wrist. With wide eyes she watched him carefully reach for her hand, momentarily studying her skin before he began to pull her down the hallway, straight to his office. Her heart was pounding, racing against her ribcage to try and warn the oblivious woman of the danger lying ahead. But there was no escaping, she was tied to him like a boat tied to the dock, rocking with the waves though kept in place by the tight rope.
“How did you find me?” (Y/n)’s whispers filled his barely alight office, drawing a dangerous chuckle from the man, a sound so strong (y/n)’s body kept trembling, littered with goosebumps.
“It’s not typical for you to be late, and I seem to find you no matter where you are. I don’t share what is mine, and especially not you.” His voice dripped with possessiveness, hand cupping her warm cheek before his lips crashed against hers, leaving the woman moaning. Within a few moments (y/n) was forced against his desk, caged between the expensive wooden craft and his tall frame. “You’re mine, mine alone, never forget that, pet.”
“I won’t. I am sorry.” She wasn’t sure what she was apologising for, and yet it only felt right to do so. The words seemed to please the professor, studying her for another second or two before an almost teasing “Prove how sorry you are” left him. Without protesting, (y/n) dropped to her knees, glassy eyes staring up at the tall man, watching him free his already hard cock with skilled movements.
(Y/n) parted her lips like she had done numerous times before, in this very position, for the brooding man only. He forced his cock into her mouth without another warning, finding enjoyment in her gasps, the surprise filling her eyes, the trembling of her hand. She was his pet, the one he had claimed the first time she had stepped into his office, forever his.
“Atta, girl, such a perfect mouth.” Her hum left him groaning, ringed hand finding her hair as his head momentarily rolled back. Professor Riddle’s eyes fluttered close, enjoying the fast bobbing motion, the way her tongue took care of his ache just like he needed her to. If there was one thing (y/n) found pride in, it was satisfying the tall man, drawing these sounds from his mouth – sounds she’d think of whenever her thoughts started to wander.
“C’mon, you can take a bit more, don’t hold back, pet.” (Y/n) struggled to take more, and yet she was set on following whatever he asked of her, trying to loosen her jaw. One tear after another spilt from her eyes, dripping down onto his expensive carpet, leaving yet another stain he’d never wipe away. She wasn’t used to hearing his praises, and yet whenever he did praise her, (y/n) hoped that her mind would never forget about these moments, cherishing every sound he made.
She felt his cock twitch in her mouth, staring up at the moaning man as her hands added more speed to their movements, pumping the parts her mouth couldn’t reach. If there was one thing she was set on, it was tasting his release, wanting him to leave his stain on her tongue before he fucked her, a wish the man wouldn’t fulfill today. He pulled away before he could give in, letting go of her hair, only to pull (y/n) to her feet. The professor manhandled her onto his table, front pushed against the cold wood as his hands pulled her trousers and panties down her legs.
“Such a messy whore for your professor, look at the way you’re dripping.” His dark chuckles left (y/n) impatiently moaning, hands clinging to the edge of the table, already preparing for the first of many ferocious thrusts. She heard him spit into his hand, once again lubing his cock up before he pushed into her from behind, drawing a moan from the both of them.
He fucked her hard, fast, not caring about her need to adjust, or the pained whimpers leaving her. No, this was a lesson, a lesson crafted for her only, reminding the young woman that she was his, his only. No other man would ever manage to fuck her like this. No other man would ever manage to draw these sounds from her parted lips.
His toy, his pet, his woman.
Curses left her whenever his cock managed to nudge the spot that left her seeing stars, squeezing her eyes shut to try and focus on the intimate moment, the need to feel his cock forcing her walls apart with every thrust, the ache he left behind between her legs. This wasn’t about taking their time, about cherishing one another’s closeness, this was solemnly to scratch that inch inside of them, fuelled by their possessiveness.
“Please, oh please, professor.” A hum left the man, forcing one arm around her waist to rub her pulsing bundle, driving her closer and closer to the edge. “Please let me cum, oh god, please.”
“Cum for me, pet. Let them hear who is fucking you, who is the only one allowed to touch you.” His name rolled off (y/n)’s tongue as she came, trying to prolong the moment for as long as possible. The professor kept snapping his hips, forcing his cock deeper and deeper, wanting to leave his stain on her walls, set on imprinting himself on her cunt. His dark, raspy moans left her gasping, feeling his hand tighten its grip on her flesh as he came inside of her, giving room to one last groan.
“You’re mine to touch, mine only, don’t you ever forget that, (y/n).”
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Française vs. Italianò
Smut | Theodore Nott | French Fem!Reader
Warnings: Google Translated French/Italian | Choking | Fingering | Rough Sex | Let's just say the reader's on birth control. | Mentions of Alcohol
Author’s Note: A little silly.
Proofread, but there might be mistakes.
Masterlist
Minors DNI | 18+
—-
Your knuckles were turning white. Glancing down at the color changing in your skin you couldn't help but drift over to the dark red bottle in your hands. You were gripping it with such force you began to wonder if the glass would break or perhaps you could break it another way. By smashing it over your Italian boyfriend's stupid head.
Theo looked no different from you. His hand was gripping the shelf next to him so harshly you thought he might pull it down. That would sure send the poor older woman up front into a panic. A whole shelf of her wine shattered on the floor as you shatter another bottle over Theo's head.
Theo took a deep breath to calm himself down. You and he had had this same argument many, many times before. On Friday nights you and Theo would go to Hogsmeade, and pick up food, and a bottle of wine before heading back to Hogwarts. The food was always picked up at a neutral location. You and Theo decided to stop eating French and Italian food together after the unfortunate incident of your 7th date.
Theo took you to his favorite Italian restaurant and you made one comment about how the food would have tasted better if they used butter for this certain dish instead of oil because that's what the French do. Theo went ballistic.
You two were broken up for four days, both too stubborn to apologize. It wasn't until Blaise intervened that you finally got over yourselves and made up. After that, you two decided you would probably just get something else next time. Wine, however? Neither you nor Theo were giving up your wine. You were supposed to alternate, one week getting Italian and the other French, but this week there seemed to be some debate on whose turn it was.
Theo let go of the shelf, dropping both hands to his side as he raised his chin and took a deep breath. Once he felt a touch calmer he lowered his eyes to yours, staring at you, and trying to remember why he was with you in the first place. "We're getting the Italian wine."
"No, we got the Italian wine last week. That means we're getting the French wine this week!" Your grip on the bottle narrowed even more and you felt your palm begin to sweat against the glass as heat rose in you.
"Odio i francesi," Theo muttered under his breath as he turned away from you and grabbed a bottle of wine from the shelf. (I hate French people.)
“Je déteste les Italiens. Et je parle italien aussi, idiot,” you fired back, taking a step closer to Theo. You'd sooner drop dead than walk out of the store with an Italian bottle of wine. (I hate Italian people. And I speak Italian too, idiot.)
Theo thought back to those 4 days he spent without you early into your relationship. Those days were long and awful, but could a man really give up his principles for the woman he loves? Would he be willing to sacrifice his livelihood in order to make you happy? Typically, the answer would be yes but there wasn't anything that was going to come between him and the right wine. "What if we get both? I'll get the Italian wine and you get the French wine."
Theo thought this compromise would save the relationship crumbling before him, but you were unmoving. He watched your vision narrow in on the bottle in his hand as your face twisted into disgust. "I'm not bringing Italian wine into my room."
"I'm not bringing French wine into mine," he argued growing both even more angered at this conversation and also growing exhausted by the never-ending problem.
"Fine. Then I'll get me the good wine, you can drink whatever shitty excuse that is and we'll just go our separate ways for the night." You held up your bottle of wine, shaking the contents in Theo's face before making your way to the register. You were tired of the conversation too.
Why did you have to fall in love with an Italian man?
Approaching the register, you forced whatever smile you could onto your face as you approached the sweet woman behind it. She had always been nice to you and Theo. Plus it wasn't her fault you couldn't stand your boyfriend. "Is this all?" she asked.
You nodded your head and just as you placed the bottle down on the counter you felt a force pull you back. "We're still deciding," Theo snapped. You shot the spooked woman an apologetic look as Theo dragged you to the back of the store. You watched as all of the wine on the shelves faded into a blur of white, red, and pink before Theo finally pulled you back into the bathroom and locked the door behind you.
"I'm not changing my mind, Theo, So whatever bullshit you're about to spew out of your dumb mouth just-"
"Shut up," Theo said as he rushed forward, gripping your neck in his hand as the impact of his lips hit yours. The kiss was harsh and frenzied. His mouth moved against your own as the hand around your neck began to softly close in. Theo pulled back from the kiss, holding your neck in place while his other hand gently cupped your face, a contrast to his other that began to apply more force. "Why can't you ever just shut up," Theo muttered, running his thumb over your bottom lip before he tucked his own between his teeth, staring down at you.
Theo removed his hands, placing them on your hips. A new wave of consciousness washed over you as your lungs filled with air. He began to walk forward, pushing you back until you hit the hard surface of the sink behind you. He steadily lowered his head down until his nose was brushing against yours. "Jump."
The argument between you and Theo was long forgotten. Honestly, you didn’t even remember why you were angry anymore. But Theo remembered. He remembered the attitude, the way you looked at him, the way you walked away from him. So when you took a second too long to follow his orders he took matters into his own hands, gripping your hips as he lifted you and placed you on the counter. Theo was out of patience.
You gasped at the sudden movement and Theo swiftly moved to cover it by placing his lips on yours once more. He glided to your pants, popping the button open and you lifted your hips to aid him in taking them off.
“We have to be quiet, Tesoro,” Theo whispered as he pried your thighs open. He moved his lips down to your neck, taking the skin between his teeth before sucking in harshly. You gasped once you felt Theo’s fingers drag across your clothed slit. Theo lifted his other hand up, forcing two fingers into your mouth as he tilted your head to look at him. “I said be quiet.”
“Perché devi sempre mettermi alla prova?” Theo cursed as he swiftly moved your underwear to the side, running his fingertip through your folds. (Why do you always have to test me?)
His finger began to curl against your clit, moving up and down as he shoved his fingers deeper into your mouth. “Lo fai apposta? Vuoi essere trattato così? Come una puttana?” He hummed as his breath pushed against your face. “Suck,” he ordered. (Do you do it on purpose? Do you want to be treated like this? Like a whore?)
Theo’s eyes fixated on your mouth as you began to follow his orders. He quickened his pace on your clit, flicking his fingers against it harshly. You squeezed your eyes shut as a whimper left your mouth. He pressed down, adding pressure as he basked in the sight of you. He watched your eyelashes flutter as your lips wrapped around his index and middle finger, and drool dripped from your chin. Theo felt the fabric of his pants begin to grow tighter and tighter against him, but his mind wouldn't let him focus on himself. Not when he could focus on you instead.
He dropped his fingers down from your now throbbing bud, using the slickness of your folds to help push them inside of you. Your back arched as you began to gag on the fingers he had pressed against your tongue. He removed them from your mouth and you felt your hips begin to jolt, trying to chase your release.
"You seem desperate, cara mia," Theo breathed as he began pumping his fingers in and out of you, going at a relentless pace. "You weren't desperate when you were walking away from me earlier." Theo angled his fingers to the side, feeling the sponginess of your walls push against him as he hit that one spot over and over again.
"Tell me how much you need me, bellisima." Your knees locked as your legs began to quiver, a pressure building in you that needed to be released. "Look at me," Theo said causing you to open your eyes and meet his. The blue of his iris sparkled as he took in your glazed-over stare. "Tell me how much you need me."
"I need you, Theo," you gasped, as he added another finger. Your mind ran quiet, only concerned with the feeling of Theo working you open.
"Tell me how much you love me," he asserted, watching as you came closer and closer to falling apart before him.
"I love you, Theo." Crying out, you finally gave in releasing all over Theo's fingers. Your breath staggered with each feeling of pressure being released.
Theo continued his pace only withdrawing his hand once you finished. You watched him as he lifted his fingers back to your mouth, obediently parting your lips when he pushed his fingers passed. Theo began to undo his belt as you sucked your juices clean from his fingers.
As soon as he was done pulling down his zipper he popped his fingers from your mouth, pressing his lips to yours and moaning as he took in your taste. He eagerly pushed his clothes down his legs, grabbing his cock as be began to pump it in his hand. "Ti amo." (I love you.)
Theo lined himself up with your entrance rubbing his tip through your folds before pushing himself into you. He went gradually, letting himself sink in. Your head rested against his chest, feeling your walls stretch as his hips moved inward.
You both gasped feeling Theo fully enter you, your thighs moving back as his skin pressed against yours. Theo gave you time to adjust, letting you get used to the feeling of him. You ran your fingers through his hair, tugging lightly as you forced his head back and kissed him. He moaned into the kiss and grabbed your legs, taking that as his signal to go.
Theo ground against you, letting his hips roll as he pumped his hard cock in and out of you. Each stroke was slow but grew harder and harder as they continued. He pushed his tongue into your mouth, silencing your moans as he started to go quicker, beginning to brutally sink his cock into your cunt.
You threw your head back and Theo in anticipation placed his palm over your mouth as you cried out in pleasure. His hand that was still wrapped around your thigh lifted your leg, placing it flush against his waist as he angled himself inside you, letting out a low moan as he felt your walls hug his excruciatingly hard cock. "Mi stai prendendo cosi bene," he strangled out before his mouth hung open from the sensation. (You're taking me so well.)
Theo moved his hand from your mouth bringing it to your neck. He gave it a soft squeeze to draw your attention to him. You locked eyes with Theo, seeing the redness of his cheeks that highlighted the beads of sweat running down them. His gaze still held so much frustration, so much anger. Maybe you shouldn’t have walked away from him earlier.
Never wavering your gaze, you wrapped your other leg tightly around him drawing him deeper inside of you and tugging him forward. A soft whimper left Theo’s lips as he felt his sensitive tip push against your cervix. “Oh, fuck,” he staggered out before making a sound that sounded animalistic, the low frequency ringing in your ear. Theo’s grip on your neck compressed using it as leverage when he began to propel his large cock into your cunt.
You choked out a gasp grabbing onto Theo’s wrist as your vision blackened. A fire ran down your abdomen and you felt your body dissolve into static. “Theo I…I.”
Theo skimmed his lips against your ear, setting a soft kiss against your lobe. “Lascia andare, amore mio.” (Let go, my love.)
Tears began to build in your eyes and a wave of electricity went through you. Your mind went fuzzy as you felt your body release. Theo’s breathing began to stagger and his hips began to shake. Your walls tightened each time you covered his cock, milking him to his finish.
Theo let go of your neck, holding onto your waist as he rested his head against your shoulders. Still coming down from your climax, you pushed your face into his neck, catching your breath in his scent. “Never walk away from me again,” Theo whispered.
“I won’t.”
You leaned yourself into him, taking comfort in his presence as he continued pumping into you. Running your hands down his back, you gently pressed a kiss against his neck. “Donne toi à moi,” you encouraged, gently tracing your fingernails along his shirt. (Give yourself to me.)
Theo pushes a couple more times before coming to a stop, his muscles spasming as he ejects himself into you.
“Ti amo.”
“Je t'aime.”
(I love you.)
---
The woman behind the register smiled at you and Theo as you approached her. She seemed a little weary due to Theo's prior outburst, but her shoulders visibly relaxed when Theo grinned back. She then brought out the bottle of wine you had previously placed on the counter. "Have we made a decision?" she asked.
Theo intertwined his fingers into yours before placing a different bottle right next to it. "We're going with the Tenuta dell’Ornellaia," he said as he reached for his wallet.
"Italian wine tonight?" she chuckled, grabbing the money from Theo. She was well aware of the constant bickering between the two of you, having witnessed it every week.
"Italian," Theo assured smugly, squeezing your hand in his before looking over at you. "Right?"
You turned to Theo, locking eyes with him before glancing back to the woman before you. "Right."
~
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