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rouxthewriter · 1 year

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Hound Dog

Pairing: Tom Riddle/Reader

Word Count: 1,039

Warnings: reader is a BAMF

Summary: You're a famous actress who's used to dealing with the entitled attitudes of Hollywood's elite. But when you meet Tom Riddle, you find yourself facing a different kind of challenge.

You were at a celebrity event, surrounded by the usual crowd of self-absorbed assholes. You weren't particularly interested in being there, but it was part of the job. As a famous actress, you had to attend these kinds of events and pretend to enjoy yourself. That’s what your publicist told you, at least. It felt like that man was trying to suck the life out of you sometimes

The room was dimly lit, with warm yellow lights casting a soft glow across the walls. The air was thick with the smell of smoke and alcohol, a mixture of cigars and whiskey permeating the space. The walls were lined with plush red velvet curtains, which added to the sense of opulence and grandeur. In the center of the room, a large circular bar dominated the space, with polished chrome fittings and shelves lined with bottles of all shapes and sizes. The bartender was a tall, wiry man with slicked-back hair and a pencil-thin mustache, who expertly mixed drinks and served them up with a flourish.

The room was filled with people, all dressed in their finest attire, sipping cocktails and chatting animatedly. The sound of chatter and laughter blended together, creating a low hum of noise that filled the air.

The seating areas were arranged in intimate clusters, with plush armchairs and couches arranged around small tables. The upholstery was a rich deep red, adding to the sense of luxury and comfort. The tables were littered with empty glasses and half-finished drinks, and the sound of ice clinking against glass added to the overall ambiance.

You were sitting at the bar, a perfect place to be alone when all the tables are taken by people you could never take home to your mother.

But you didn’t want to be alone.

You were scanning the room, searching for someone to talk to, when you caught sight of Tom Riddle. He was standing near the bar, talking to a group of people, but his eyes were locked on you. He was handsome, that was for sure, but you'd heard about his reputation as a womanizer. You weren't interested in dealing with that kind of drama.

But before you could turn away, he started making his way over to you. "Hey there," he said, flashing you a charming smile. "I don't think we've met before."

You raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "I'm sure there's a reason for that."

He chuckled. "Well, I'm Tom. And you are?"

"Someone who's not interested," you replied coolly.

He didn't seem to be deterred by your attitude. "Come on, don't be like that. I'm just trying to get to know you."

You rolled your eyes. "I'm not interested in getting to know you."

Tom seemed to be taken aback by your bluntness, but he didn't give up. "Why not? I'm a pretty interesting guy."

You looked him up and down, taking in his cocky grin and confident stance. "I don't know, maybe it's the hound dog look you've got going on. You're not exactly my type."

He laughed. "Oh, I get it. You're playing hard to get. Well, I like a challenge."

You scoffed. "I'm not playing anything. I'm just not interested. And I'm definitely not interested in being your 'challenge'."

Tom's grin faltered slightly, but he quickly regained his composure. "Well, that's too bad. You're missing out on a good time."

You raised an eyebrow. "Oh, I'm sure I am."

He leaned in closer, his breath hot on your ear. "You know, I bet you'd change your mind if you saw what I can do."

You pulled away, disgusted. "I don't want to see what you can do. I'm not interested in anything you have to offer."

Tom's face twisted into a sneer. "Fine. Whatever. You're not that hot anyway."

You couldn't help but laugh at his childish behavior. "Is that supposed to bother me? I don't care what you think."

But as Tom walked away, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of annoyance. Who did he think he was, acting like he was God's gift to women? You were a successful actress, and you didn't need some arrogant asshole like him trying to impress you.

But as the night wore on, you found yourself unable to shake the memory of Tom's smug grin. You kept catching glimpses of him across the room, chatting up other women and basking in their adoration.

You knew you should just forget about him and move on, but something about his arrogance was driving you crazy. So when he made his way over to you again, you decided to give him a piece of your mind.

"I'm done with this game," you said, standing up from your seat. "I don't have time for boys like you who think they can treat women like toys to be played with and discarded." You gave your card to the eavesdropping bartender, who reluctantly left the scene.

Tom looked up at you with a mix of surprise and annoyance. "What, are you too good for me now? You're just like every other girl in this town, thinking you're better than everyone else because you're famous."

You scoffed. "I'm not saying I'm better than anyone, but I do know my worth. And I won't settle for someone who can't treat me with respect."

Tom rolled his eyes. "Respect? Please. You're just like every other Hollywood diva, thinking you're entitled to everything just because you're famous. Well, let me tell you something, sweetheart, you're not that special.

You took a step closer to him, your eyes locked on his. "I may be a Hollywood actress, but that doesn't give you the right to treat me like garbage. And you know what? You're right, I'm not that special. But I deserve someone who treats me like I am."

With that, you turned on your heel and walked away, leaving Tom sitting there with a scowl on his face. As you walked out of the club, you couldn't help but think that maybe, just maybe, he'd learned his lesson. But even if he hadn't, you knew you weren't going to waste any more of your time on a hound dog like him.

Being alone wasn’t so bad after all.

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