#Tom riddle imagines

[sadnymi]

「 ✦ No time to die. ✦ 」

Tom riddle x reader

Summary: Blind devotion. That's what it had been. For years, I'd been hopelessly enamored with Tom Riddle, his charm and intellect blinding me to the crimson flags that fluttered in the periphery. I ignored the whispers, the unease that gnawed at the edges of my comfort. He was Tom, my Tom, and love, I believed, conquered all.Then, the truth shattered my carefully constructed world. I stumbled upon his darkest secret , But even with the truth laid bare, the question remained: would he let me go?

Warnings: smut ,angst,strong language

Words:3,7k

The crisp autumn air whipped at my cheeks as I practically skipped back to Tom's.We'd spent the past year inseparable, and it was the happiest I'd ever been. He was everything I ever dreamed of – My entire life felt like a love letter to Tom Riddle.

Reaching the front door, a surge of anticipation bubbled up inside me. I fumbled with my key, eager to surprise Tom with my return. As I pushed the door open, the sound of hushed voices drifted from the sitting room. My smile faltered.

One voice, Tom's, smooth and familiar, the other, sharper, belonged to Avery. Curiosity tugged at me, so I tiptoed closer, pressing my ear against the partially closed door.

"Don't go soft now, Tom," Avery drawled. "We all know she's just part of your plan, right?"

A cold dread slithered down my spine. "She's useful, Avery," Tom replied, his voice devoid of the warmth he usually reserved for me. "She's the brightest witch in her year, and her understanding of Hogwarts will be invaluable. Besides," he added, a chilling nonchalance in his tone, "I know what I'm doing."

My heart hammered against my ribs. What plan? What did he mean by 'useful'? The pieces of seemingly unconnected events slammed together in my mind - the "accidents" that plagued his rivals, the mysterious illness that sent a student to Azkaban – all the whispers I'd brushed aside.

A wave of nausea washed over me. The truth, stark and horrifying, slammed into me - Tom hadn't loved me. He'd used me.

Before I could react, the conversation ended abruptly. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing the tears back. My hand trembled as I reached for the doorknob, the urge to flee the only thing driving me.

The door creaked open, revealing a startled Avery, who paled at the sight of me. He stammered something about leaving and practically bolted past me. My gaze darted to Tom, his face an unreadable mask.

The devastation was so profound, it felt like my world was shattering around me. The man I loved, the man I'd trusted with my heart, was a stranger – a monster.

I stumbled back, a strangled cry escaping my lips. Tom lunged for me, but I twisted away, my scream echoing in the empty house. Tears streamed down my face as I bolted past him, the need to escape overwhelming. He grabbed my arm, his grip surprisingly tight, but I fought back with a strength I didn't know I possessed.

“Don't touch me!" I screamed, yanking my arm away from his grasp. "How could you?" The words tumbled out, choked with betrayal. "All this time... you were just using me?"

Tom's eyes narrowed, but there was a flicker of something else in them – ? Regret? It didn't matter.

"You were the best witch in your year," he said, his voice tight. "I needed someone smart, someone who could understand Hogwarts, its secrets..."

His justifications fell on deaf ears. This wasn't the Tom I thought I knew. This was a stranger, a monster cloaked in the face of the boy I loved.

My struggle was useless. Tom's grip on my arm felt like iron, his face a mask of cold calculation that shattered the image of the boy I loved. "Stop moving," he hissed, his voice tight. "You're going to hurt yourself."

"Why?" I shrieked, the word raw with betrayal. "Why are you doing this?"

He didn't answer. The silence was deafening, filled only with the frantic thump of my heart. My pleas turned into a desperate mantra. "Why, Tom? Why?!"

He remained silent, his grip tightening a fraction. The pain spurred a fresh wave of fury. I screamed again, clawing at his arm, anything to break free. He finally reacted, hauling me off the ground with surprising ease.

"Let me go!" I screamed, my voice hoarse. "You're a monster!"

"I know, love," he said, the word a cruel mockery on his lips.

"Don't call me that! Let me go!"

Ignoring my pleas, he marched towards the door, his face a stony mask. Panic clawed at my throat. "Tom, don't," I choked out, my voice thick with tears.

Then, the world slammed shut. He yanked open the door and shoved me into a room I didn't recognize, He threw me onto the bed, my breath catching in my throat. But I was up in a flash, scrambling towards the door. "Tom, don't you dare!" I shrieked, my voice choked with tears.

"We will talk," he cut me off, his voice strangely calm considering the storm raging inside me. He reached down, his fingers brushing against mine. I recoiled as if burned.

The click of the lock echoed in the room like a death knell. Panic surged through me. I spun around, scrambling towards the windows, clawing at the latches. They were locked too. A strangled sob escaped my lips. Without my wand, I was trapped.

I slammed my fists against the door, the wood groaning under the impact. "Tom! Open the door!" I screamed, my voice hoarse. "You're a monster! I hate you! I will hate you to the day I die!"

My words echoed in the small room, bouncing off the walls. Tears streamed down my face, blurring my vision. "Why?" I sobbed, collapsing onto the floor. "Why did you do this to me, Tom? I really loved you."

The silence stretched on, broken only by my ragged breaths and the quiet tick of the clock on the wall. "Tom?" I croaked, my voice barely a whisper. But there was no answer. Just the relentless tick-tock, reminding me of the time slipping away,

Exhaustion eventually won over the battle raging in my heart. Sleep, even in this state of utter betrayal, felt like torture. Perhaps it was the screaming all night, or the relentless pleas I'd choked out until my voice was raw, but I drifted off into a restless slumber.

A feathery touch against my cheek, then a gentle hand combing through my hair, jolted me awake. I flinched back, scrambling away until the wooden bedframe pressed against my back.

"Don't touch me," I spat, pulling my knees to my chest, a fortress against the world – a world that had suddenly turned monstrous.

"Eat," he said, a neutral tone that sent shivers down my spine. There was food on the nightstand, a silent offering.

"I won't eat anything you offer," I spat back, defiance flickering through the haze of hurt. "Let me go."

A beat of silence stretched between us, taut with tension. Then, a single word, laced with a quiet command that sent a fresh wave of tears cascading down my face. "Eat."

The sound of my own sobs filled the room, a stark contrast to his forced composure. "Stop crying," he said, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice.

"I said stop crying!" he say, his voice louder this time. The sound of it shattered whatever fragile hope remained inside me.

But I couldn't stop. Tears blurred my vision, each one a silent scream of betrayal and heartbreak

. He reached out a hand, as if to comfort me, but I flinched away, pushing the tears back with the heels of my hands.

"I got you some clothes . Eat and change," he continued, his tone clipped.

Ignoring the food, I met his gaze with eyes filled with a pain that mirrored the wreckage in my heart. "And don't fucking hurt yourself again,"he spat, his gaze dropping to my hand. A jolt of surprise ran through me. He must have cleaned it sometime in the night.

I hadn't even noticed, or maybe I refused to acknowledge it. Looking across the room, I saw the shattered mirror and a single drop of crimson staining its surface. The realization hit me like a physical blow.

"Why? So you can kill me yourself? Like you did to this poor girl ?" I shouted, the accusation ripping from my throat.

"Watch your mouth, Y/n," he warned, his eyes hardening. The look in them brought a fresh wave of tears – tears not just of fear, but of a profound sadness.

A muscle ticked in his jaw. "Watch your mouth, Y/n," he warned, a dangerous glint in his eyes. The way he spoke to me wasn't just cold, it was cruel.

This couldn't be the same Tom who held me close every chance he got, who kissed me like I was the most precious thing in the world. This wasn't the boy I had loved almost my whole life.

"I look at you and I can't recognize you anymore," I choked out, my voice thick with emotion. "I don't even know who you are now."

He stared at me for a long moment, his face unreadable. Then, in a voice devoid of warmth, he finally spoke."Good," he said simply.

Two days bled into one another, a monotonous blur of misery. He'd stormed out of the room after our confrontation, leaving me alone with the deafening silence and the weight of his betrayal.

Each day followed the same cruel script. He'd reappear, a grim expression etched on his face, carrying a tray of food and fresh clothes. The clothes, once a thoughtful touch, now felt like a cruel mockery. A shower was a brief reprieve, the warm water washing away some of the physical grime, but the emotional scars remained raw and open.

Food sat untouched on the nightstand, the sight turning my stomach. The mere thought of putting anything past my lips filled me with a suffocating dread.

Each night, like clockwork, the anger arrived with him. The sight of the full dishes on the nightstand seemed to ignite a fire in his eyes. His voice, once a source of comfort, now dripped with icy contempt.

"You haven't eaten a single thing," he'd sneer, snatching the plate and tossing it onto the bedside table with a clatter. "Do you think this is a game?"

I'd remain silent, staring at the opposite wall, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reaction.

It was a constant reminder of the monster I now shared a room with, the man who wore the face of the boy I loved.

The morning light, harsh and unwelcome, streamed through the barred windows, but Tom was nowhere to be seen. My body ached, a dull throb echoing the pain in my heart. Tears, silent and warm, traced paths down my cheeks. Exhaustion gnawed at me, both physical and emotional.

Then, the sound of the lock clicking. I braced myself for Tom's usual stoicism, the anger simmering just beneath the surface. But it wasn't Tom who entered.

My heart lurched. Standing in the doorway were Avery and Lestrange. Once considered friends, their presence now sent a fresh wave of fear coursing through me. The trust, the camaraderie - shattered like the mirror in the room.

Lestrange approached the bed, his expression unreadable. "What are you doing?" I croaked, the words rough from disuse. He didn't answer, simply gripping my hand with surprising strength.

"Easy now, Y/n," Avery said, a placating tone lacing his voice. But the glint of a dagger in his hand shattered the facade. My eyes widened in horror. "Nothing personal."

Terror clawed at my throat. They were going to kill me. My mind raced, searching for a way out, but my voice came out a weak rasp, "No..."

"See, she understands," Lestrange said, his cold gaze unwavering."You know too much, And you've had enough time to decide. But you didn't."

"Decide what?" My vision blurred with fresh tears. Without Lestrange's support, I would have collapsed.

"To serve the Dark Lord," he replied.

"I... I don't understand," I whimpered, tears blurring my vision.

The Dark Lord? Who was that? My mind was a whirlwind of confusion, but before I could voice the question, Lestrange dragged me from the bed. I tried to fight back, but my body was a leaden weight.

"Sorry, Y/n," Avery muttered, his voice laced with a strange regret.

The Dark Lord? Who was he talking about? But before I could get another word out, a searing pain shot through my wrists as Lestrange twisted them behind my back.

"Get it over with, Avery," Lestrange muttered, a hint of annoyance lacing her voice. "I'm not enjoying this. She was my friend."

"No! No, Avery!" I screamed, my voice raw with terror as I thrashed against their hold. "Don't do this!"

"Just one swift cut, you won't feel a thing," Avery said, his voice cold and detached.

I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing for the inevitable.A choked sob escaped my lips. This couldn't be happening. Not like this.

But then, a voice ripped through the room, a voice I wouldn't have recognized if not for the flicker of something familiar in its depths.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

My eyes snapped open at the sound. Tom stood between me and Avery, his face a mask of fury. He twisted Avery's wrist with a sickening crack, the dagger clattering to the floor. In a swift movement, he pulled me from Lestrange's grip, holding me close.

"Are you hurt?" he asked, his voice laced with a concern that sent a jolt through me. I shook my head, clinging to him as if my life depended on it. Maybe, in that moment, it did.

"She already knew too much, Tom," Avery whined, cradling his injured hand. "We thought it would be too much for you to do it yourself, so we decided..."

"And you thought wrong," Tom snarled, his voice icy. "You'll pay for this, both of you. Get out of my sight."

Avery and Lestrange exchanged a frightened glance before nodding hastily.

"Yes, my Lord," they chorused, their voices dripping with fear.

Lord? He was their Lord? He's... he's the Dark Lord? The weight of the revelation crashed down on me, shattering the remnants of the Tom I thought I knew.

"He… he called you… my Lord?" My voice trembled as the weight of the revelation crashed down on me.

He carried me gently off the ground, my strength completely gone.my body too weak to protest. I laid my head against his chest .

He settled me back onto the bed, his fingers gently brushing my hair away from my tear-streaked face., "Did they hurt you ,love ?" he asked, his voice soft, his touch a stark contrast to the cold fury I'd witnessed moments ago.

"Please don't hurt me," I stammered, fear still clinging to me like a shroud. "Please, Tom." The name tumbled from my lips, a plea laced with a shred of the hope I desperately wanted to believe in.

His face softened, a flicker of the Tom I knew battling with the darkness lurking in his eyes. "I will never hurt you," he murmured, his voice a soothing balm to my raw nerves.

But the words felt hollow. "I don't believe you," I choked out, a sob escaping my lips. "It hurts too much."

He didn't try to deny it. "I know," he whispered, his own voice thick with emotion.

He ignored my resistance when he began feeding me, his touch surprisingly gentle. He even helped me change, discarding the tear-stained shirt for a clean one. But I remained silent, a shell of the girl I once was.

The terror still gnawed at me, manifesting in flinches and skittish glances. Every rustle, every creak of the floorboards sent a jolt of fear through me. The nightmare I'd lived through seemed burned into my memory.

Finally, the silence stretched too thin. "Will you kill me?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. The question hung heavy in the air, a test.

His eyes widened, a flicker of genuine pain crossing his face. "No," he said, his voice firm.

"You lied to me," I accused him, my voice flat with a cold anger.

He didn't argue. "Yes," he conceded.

"You used me," I spat, the words laced with hurt.

"I did," he repeated, his voice barely a whisper.

"You hurt me," I whispered, the words heavy with betrayal.

"You said you loved me," I said, tears welling up in my eyes again.

He met my gaze, his eyes filled with a storm of emotions. "I do," he said, his voice thick with a desperation that tugged at my heartstrings. "I do,"

"I was conceived under a love potion," he admitted, his voice laced with a bitterness I hadn't heard before. "My mother used it on my father. They say that's why I'm incapable of feeling love."

He took my hand, his fingers cool against my skin, and pressed it to his chest. The steady thump of his heartbeat echoed beneath my palm, a powerful counterpoint to the erratic drumbeat in my chest.

"But now it beats," he continued, "For you. Just for you."

His words hung in the air, heavy and unbelievable. A love potion? A life devoid of love?How could this be? Everything I thought I knew about him, about love, was crumbling around me.

Tears streamed down my face, blurring my vision. He'd said he loved me before, a million times, but this was different. This was raw, unfiltered, a torrent of emotion that resonated in the very core of my being.

"And you thought I would hurt you?" he asked. "Kill you? You, the best thing I have ever had, the only thing I truly care about in this stupid world? Y/n, you, my darling, are the only person I love, I didn’t mean a word from what I said I don’t trust anyone enough to show them my weakness, I would burn this world down to a cinder for you."

His words were fierce, possessive, yet laced with a tenderness I'd never known existed within him.

"I'm not lying," he said, his gaze searching my tear-filled eyes. "I was at first. Having you by my side was a strategic move. You're smart, brilliant, innocent, someone I could mold to my cause. But you turned the tables. You, without even trying, made me feel something I never thought possible – love for you. Something they said was impossible. And you know what? losing doesn't feel like defeat. It feels like the greatest victory."

"It’s impossible they say ," he said, a bitter edge to his voice. "But look at me now." He looked down at our hands clasped together, then back up at me, his gaze searching my wet face.

My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs, mirroring the beat beneath my hand.

"How can I believe you, Tom?" I finally managed, the question a mere whisper lost in the storm of emotions raging within me.

His gaze softened, the coldness replaced by a desperate vulnerability. He leaned closer, his eyes searching mine. "Because," he murmured, his voice a husky caress, "from this moment on, I'll spend every waking breath proving it."

His lips brushed against mine,he kissed me, softly at first, his lips brushing against mine in a gentle plea. my body relaxing into his touch.

He deepened the kiss, his tongue tracing the seam of my lips, seeking entrance. I opened to him, welcoming him inside. He tasted like coffee and mint, and something deeper, something that teased him only him, something that made my heart clench with longing.

He pulled away, his forehead resting against mine, our breaths mingling in the quiet room.

" you're mine, and i take care of what belongs to me. ," he whispered, his thumb tracing the curve of my cheek.

I believed him, in that moment, I truly did. I could see the love in his eyes, the sincerity in his words.

He laid me down, his body covering mine. His lips found mine again, his kiss slow, deliberate, as if memorizing every inch of me.

His hands roamed my body, his touch setting my skin on fire. He cupped my breasts, his thumbs brushing my nipples through the fabric of my shirt. I arched into his touch, a soft moan escaping my lips.

He pulled my shirt over my head, his eyes darkening as he took in my bare breasts. He leaned down, his mouth closing around one nipple, his tongue swirling around the hard peak. I cried out, my fingers tangling in his hair.

He moved to the other breast, giving it the same attention. His hand moved lower, his fingers finding the waistband of my pants. He looked up at me, his eyes questioning. I nodded, giving him permission.

He pulled my pants down, his eyes taking in my bare legs, my lace panties. He hooked his fingers in the waistband, pulling them down slowly.

"You are so beautiful," he whispered, his fingers tracing the curve of my hip.He leaned down, his lips pressing against my inner thigh. "And all mine," he added, his voice full of reverence.

He moved higher, his lips brushing against my core. I gasped, my hips bucking up towards him. He took his time, his tongue exploring every inch of me. I was panting, my fingers clutching at the sheets. He looked up at me, his eyes full of lust. "You taste like heaven," he said, his voice full of pride. He held me down, his hands on my hips, his mouth working me to the brink.

He looked up at me, his eyes filled with desire. "i got you, come for me, my love," he whispered. And I did, my orgasm crashing over me like a wave. I cried out his name, my fingers tangled in his hair. He continued to lick and suck, drawing out every last bit of pleasure.

He moved up my body, his mouth finding mine again. I could taste myself on his lips, and it only made me want him more.

I could feel his hard length pressing against me. He reached into his bedside table, pulling out a condom. He rolled it on, his eyes never leaving mine. He positioned himself at my entrance, his eyes full of love and desire. "Use our safeword if you need to." he whispered, his voice full of promise.

He pushed inside me, filling me completely. I cried out, my nails digging into his back. He started to move, his pace slow and deliberate, I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper inside me.

He picked up the pace, his thrusts becoming harder and faster. I could feel myself getting closer and closer to the edge. He reached down, his fingers finding my clit. He rubbed slow circles, his touch sending me over the edge. “scream my name while you cum” He say , I cried out, my orgasm rushing through me. He thrust into me a few more times before finding his own release.

He collapsed on top of me, his breathing heavy. He rolled off, pulling me into his arms. "I love you," he whispered, his lips pressing against my forehead. "No one will ever hurt you again, not as long as I'm here." His words were laced with a chilling intensity, a darkness I couldn't ignore.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

#tom riddle x you #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle imagines #tom riddle #tom riddle smut #slytherin boys #slytherin boys x reader #slytherin boys x you

[atypicalamortentia]

Riddle's Diary || Tom Riddle

Synopsis - A few days into your last year at Hogwarts, you wake up to find an unusual diary nestled between your class books. After uncovering its secret, the diary very quickly becomes the only thing you can think about.

Warnings - SFW.

Notes - All characters a 18+

Word Count - 4k.

[Caffeinate Me]

You weren’t exactly sure where the diary came from. You had woken up one morning to find it neatly nestled between your class books on your bedside table. You had asked around Hogwarts to see if anybody had put it there, alas nobody had owned up to placing it in your belongings. 

The diary itself was plain black and made of leather. The unrecognised name of ‘Tom Marvolo Riddle’ was written in gold on the bottom of the very back of the diary. As you studied the diary, your first instinct was to flick through the pages but when you did, you saw they were all empty. It was as if the diary was brand new. Unused. You shrugged and placed the diary neatly back where it had been and went about your day as usual, forgetting all about it until you returned back to your dorm room that evening. 

When everybody had gone to bed and you were sure everybody was asleep, you grabbed the diary and made your way down to the common room where you sat at a desk facing a window, looking out at the clear night sky. You admired the diary for the second time today and sighed. “Where did you come from?” You muttered to the diary. You opened it to the middle page and inspected the lining of the book. You were looking for any evidence that there had been pages ripped out, but the lining of the diary remained intact suggesting that there hadn’t been. Just as you were about to close the book and head back to bed, words appeared on the page in front of you:

Hello. 

You shook your head and squeezed your eyes shut tightly before reopening them and looking at the page the words had appeared on. There was nothing there. “I must be going mad,” you whispered to yourself. You were about to close the diary once more before words appeared on the page again:

No, you’re not going mad. 

Then, as quickly as they appeared, they disappeared without a trace. You picked up the diary and looked closely at the page. 

My name’s Tom Marvolo Riddle. What’s yours?

You gasped loudly. What sort of magic was this? You watched as the words disappeared from the page before you looked at the ink pot that sat neatly on the corner of the desk you were sitting at. “Am I really going to do this?” You asked yourself before picking up the feathered quill pen and writing your name on the page of the diary. You waited for a few seconds, not sure what you were expecting to happen but just like the words you had seen, your name simply disappeared from the page. In its place was a response:

That’s a pretty name for a pretty girl. 

The words were gone and the page was yet again blank. Did a diary really just call you pretty? You shook your head once again and allowed the quill in your hand to glide across the page as you wrote your reply: 

What is this book?

You waited a few seconds before a response came. 

My diary.  

“But why would somebody enchant a diary?” You asked aloud to yourself. 

So I can live forever. 

“Oh,” you frowned at the words on the page. Whatever it was, whoever it was, they could hear you speak? This was magic you had never encountered before, nor even knew was possible. You didn’t respond to the diary and instead looked out of the window as your mind whirled with possibilities. You still didn’t even know where this diary had come from and now you were up in the middle of the night talking to it? When you finally looked down at the page, you saw another sentence:

It’s late. You should go to bed beautiful. 

You closed the diary without writing a goodbye. You were shaken and confused. “It is late,” you mumbled to yourself looking at the grandfather clock situated in the corner of the common room. This all had to be one weird dream. You would wake up in the morning to no diary that could hear you or write to you and you’d tell your best friends about it and you’d laugh about the weird dream. Yeah. That would happen. You grabbed the diary and stood up, making your way back to the girls dorm and climbing back into bed. You placed the diary back where it was when you found it and fell into a deep sleep. 

You were the last to wake in the morning and the first thing you did was look for the diary. There it was, right where you left it. So it wasn’t a weird dream? You opened the diary and waited for words to appear, but none did. “Maybe I was just so sleep deprived I imagined the whole thing,” you whispered to yourself. You waited for a few more moments and still no words appeared. “What am I thinking?” You groaned and threw the diary onto the bed before getting ready for the day to come. 

Your first class of the day was potions. It was probably your favourite class, but as you sat and listened to Professor Snape drawl on about various different potions you just couldn’t concentrate. No matter how hard you tried. Your mind kept lingering back to the diary and the night before. After potions class you had a free period. You tended to sit in the library and study, but yet again you couldn’t concentrate. You found yourself sneaking back to the common room and acquiring the diary, placing it in your bag before going to your second, and final, class of the day. You found yourself peering at the dairy in your bag throughout the lesson through the corner of your eyes, not paying attention to the Professor that was trying to teach you Defence Against The Dark Arts. The lesson was soon over and you evaded your friends to head back to the common room in an attempt to communicate with the diary once more. You sat at your bed, pen in hand, and began to scrawl onto the page in front of you.

Was I dreaming last night? 

You waited a second and before you knew it, the words you wrote had disappeared leaving a response in its wake. 

No. 

Your eyes widened and your heart began to thump desperately in your chest. You shook your head and watched as the words left the page until it was blank once more. You were about to write back about how insane this was but the diary beat you to it. 

You think this is crazy, don’t you?

You nodded and cried out, “yes!”  

It’s not. It’s magic. 

“Well duh,” you groaned loudly. 

“Y/N, are you okay?” Your friend's voice came from the other side of the girls' dorm. You panicked and snapped the diary shut before throwing it under your pillow just in time for your friend to walk in. 

“I’m fine,” you said, blinking rapidly at her. 

“I heard you say ‘yes’ extremely loudly,” she looked around the room realising nobody else was in there but you. “Who were you talking to?” She asked, raising an eyebrow. 

You frowned and shrugged, making up a quick lie. “Just thought of the answer to some homework I have. Been thinking about it for days and it finally came to me.” 

“That’s… good…” Your friend said slowly before backing out of the room leaving you alone yet again. When you were sure she was gone, you grabbed the diary back from under your pillow and opened it. 

Ashamed of me?

The diary wrote. You raised an eyebrow and wrote back instantly. 

You’re a diary. 

That’s not a no. 

You scoffed. You weren’t ashamed per say, just confused. It was a damn talking diary! You needed to find out more about the diary before you let people see you with the damn thing. You sat crossed-legged on the bed, pen in hand, and continued to talk to the diary. 

So. Tell me about yourself.

The diary responded instantaneously with a counter question:

Why don’t you tell me about yourself, pretty girl?

You rolled your eyes. Out of all the magical things you thought would make a blush rise to your cheeks, a diary certainly wasn’t one of them. 

Stop calling me “pretty girl”. 

Why should I?

You bit your bottom lip as you wrote back furiously. 

You don’t know what I look like. 

Are you sure about that?

You paused and looked around the room. Surely your friends weren’t pulling a prank on you with this diary were they? When you didn’t answer, the diary continued to write to you. 

Why don’t I show you who I am? 

Your heart continued to beat rapidly in your chest and before you knew it, you were being sucked into the diary. You looked around the room and recognised it as your dorm room. The diary was nowhere to be found and so, not sure what had happened you smoothed down your uniform and began to walk out of the room. Things looked exactly the same and you made your way out of the common room to the grand staircase. There, you saw a man with curly hair and the most piercing brown eyes standing at the bottom of the staircase. He looked on as someone was taken away, covered by a sheet - someone had died? You didn’t recognise the man and his robes were slightly different to yours and it was then that you realised you were in a different time era. The cogs were turning in your head when suddenly you were interrupted by a voice you were familiar with. “Tom?” You looked to see Professor Dumbledore standing in front of the man, shielding his view as the body was wheeled away. 

“Tom?” You asked loudly, but nobody turned to look at you. “Tom Marvolo Riddle?” 

“What’s happened Professor?” Tom asked Professor Dumbledore who looked on sadly, placing his hand on the man’s shoulders. 

As the pair talked, you walked next to Dumbledore and waved a hand in front of his face. When he didn’t acknowledge you, you began to realise what was happening. These were memories. Tom’s memories to be exact. The two began to fade away and suddenly you were left alone in the corridor before you were sucked back out of the diary and onto your bed. You blinked a few times and looked at the diary that lay on your bed. “What the hell was that?” You asked yourself, opening the diary to the first page. 

That was a memory of mine, my dear. You see, I used to be a student at Hogwarts. 

You raised an eyebrow before picking the pen back up and scribbling back. 

Used to be?

Yes, used to be. A long time ago. 

“That explains why I didn’t recognise you,” you said, knowing that the diary would respond to your mumbling. 

Exactly. Who could forget a handsome face like mine?

The diary replied. You yet again rolled your eyes and scoffed. The diary wasn’t wrong though, he was extremely handsome. 

What are you thinking about?

The diary asked. This made you think about what you were thinking about and instantly you shook your head as if trying to shake the thoughts from your brain. 

Nothing. 

Came your response. You continued to shake your head, not allowing the thoughts to re-enter your mind of Tom Riddle. You bid your goodbyes before closing the diary and placing it back under your pillow - not allowing the diary time to say goodbye. 

An hour had passed since you last spoke to the diary and you were already itching to talk to it again… To talk to him again. Despite having your friends around you, sometimes you felt like an outcast. Somebody who didn’t belong. This diary was making you think… Was making you feel. “This is ridiculous,” you whispered to yourself as you walked down the hall to the Great Hall. You opened the large doors to the Great Hall and were met with crowds of people gathering around their house tables, eating away at the large feast that was spread out across the long tables. 

“Y/N!” Your friend called, standing up and waving her arms to catch your attention. “Over here!” You smiled weakly at her and walked over to your house table, settling down next to your friend. “Where have you been? We haven’t seen you all day!” 

“I erm…” You whispered, looking down at your skirt. “I’ve not been feeling well. I’ve been in the girls dorm for most of the afternoon, just resting.” 

“Are you feeling better?” Another one of your friends asked you, to which you just nodded a response. “Good.” 

You began to eat the food on your plate silently as you continued to think back to Tom Riddle's memory. There was no denying that if that man was Tom Riddle, he was extremely handsome. Charmingly handsome. His brown eyes were inviting as he looked past Dumbledore at the gurney the covered body was laying on. They twinkled as if they were harbouring a deep secret, one you were sure you could get out of the diary if you asked. 

“Y/N?” Your friend shouted, grabbing your shoulder and shaking you, grabbing your attention from your thoughts. “I said have you done the potions homework?” 

You looked at your friend with a mouthful of food and shook your head. Gulping the food down, you began to speak. “When is it due? I’ve had a lot on my mind.”

“Like what Y/N?” Your friend hissed silently. “This is our last year for goodness sake! Get your head in the game or you’ll fail your exams!” 

You straightened your body and nodded. “You’re right.”

“I know,” she smiled, brushing off her shoulder playfully. You turned back to your food and continued eating in silence as your friends around you chattered and laughed. Before you knew it, you were making your way back to the common room quickly, alone yet again. You walked up the moving staircases, being careful not to get trapped on the revolving stairs as you hurriedly made your way back to your dorm. You got into the girls dorm and slammed the door shut behind you. When you realised you were alone you walked over to your bed and picked up your pillow revealing the leather diary you had been thinking about non-stop for the last twenty-four hours. You could tell in your gut that this diary was going to become a problem for you. You picked it up and sat down on your bed opening the book. 

Did you miss me?

Your eyes widened at the words on the page. 

No.

You lied. 

Liar. 

No.

This continued for several minutes before you gave in. 

I suppose I missed the company you seem to bring me. 

You wrote. Your heart was yet again thumping in your chest as you scribbled the words on the empty, yellow parchment. 

How cute.

Cute? You wouldn't exactly call it ‘cute’. It was more sad than anything. Talking to a diary, memories of somebody from the past as opposed to your kind, caring and loving friends. You gripped the diary tightly between your fingers, folding the book ever-so-slightly. Your leg was bouncing off the floor as you thought about what to say to Tom next. Alas you didn’t have to think before more words were scrawled on the page. 

How was your day?

“My day?” You mumbled to yourself, grasping the pen tightly in your hand as you began to write back. 

My day was okay. I haven’t been able to concentrate on my studies today. 

And why is that?

“This damned diary,” you said loudly. You placed the diary, open, next to you gently on the bed and stood up. With your head in your hands, you grasped your hair and pulled ever-so-slightly whilst groaning in frustration. 

What is it about my diary that is so distracting to you, my dear?

You looked down at the diary on your bed and sighed. You picked it up again and replied. 

It’s like having a constant friend in my bag. 

You didn’t have to wait long for Tom’s reply.

A friend?

“Yes, a friend,” you whispered in a hushed voice. 

But, that’s a good thing isn’t it? To have a friend with you at all times, no matter where you are. No matter what you do. 

You thought for a moment. You supposed it was a good thing, but again you knew this diary was going to become a problem for you if you kept it. 

I have to give your diary away.

You wrote on the empty page after much deliberation. 

NO!

Tom replied. There was an urgency in his writing. The capitalisation of the letters sent your heart into a frenzy. This diary, this Tom Riddle, had been in your life for roughly twenty-four hours now and you were already starting to feel attached. 

Why do you have to give my diary away, pretty girl?

You bit your bottom lip as you ran the pads of your fingers across the parchment. The words dissolve off the page in the blink of an eye. The thought of that handsome boy in the memory calling you a pretty girl brought a blush to your face. You shook your head. You couldn’t be thinking like that. You didn’t know a thing about this Tom Riddle, about this diary. 

We should meet.

The words flashed on the page. 

“Meet? How could we possibly meet?” You asked the diary, confusion laced your voice. 

Magic. 

Came the reply. In an instant you were sucked into the diary yet again. You stood up off the bed and brushed yourself off, taking in the room around you: you were in another memory. There was movement in the corner of the room and your eyes shot to the darkness of the room's corner. A figure loomed in the shadows and your heart began to thump, your ears began to ring and your legs began to shake. Were you trembling out of fear? Out of anticipation? You weren’t quite sure. 

“I’ve been very anxious to meet you,” a voice came from the shadows. Stepping into the light, the curly haired male from the first memory stood in front of you. 

“T-Tom?” You asked, ears still ringing. 

The man took a few steps towards you, a twisted smile graced his lips as he spoke confidently in response. “Yes. It’s me.”

“H-How is this even possible?” You asked. You were breathless as Tom continued to stalk towards you. 

“It’s simple magic really,” Tom replied. He was now standing mere feet away from you and you could truly admire his features in the girls dorm light. “Have you been as anxious to meet me as I have to meet you?”  

You shook your head as your throat ran dry. You gulped down a lump and spoke, trying your best to sound unaffected by him. “You’re just a memory.” 

“I may be just a memory, but that doesn’t mean I’m not real,” he whispered, bringing his face closer to yours. He looked deeply into your eyes before his gaze dropped down to your lips and back up to your eyes again. “It doesn’t mean that what I don’t feel is real…”

“What do you mean?” You asked softly. 

Tom brought a hand up to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. His face was so close to yours that you could feel his breath on the side of your face. It was warm, intoxicating almost. You felt your heart flutter as his hand dropped from your hair and to your hand that rested next to you. He held it up to his heart which you could feel beating in tandem with your own. “Don’t pretend like you don’t know what I feel Y/N.” 

You shook your head a ‘no’ as he spoke to you, lips gracing your ear seductively. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He pulled away from your face and stood up straight. Brown eyes twinkling in the dim light of the room, staring into your soul. “Liar,” he whispered, a chuckle escaping his lips. 

“Tom…” You whispered breathlessly. You sucked in a breath and moved closer to him, touching his shoulders gently with shaky hands. “I can touch you?” 

“Of course you can,” Tom smirked. “And I can touch you.” He responded with a hand ghosting your hip, pulling your body closer to his. Your heart was skipping beats at his touch and you looked up at him. “I can even kiss you, if you want me too.” Tom’s hands cupped your face as he brought it closer to his own, gaze flickering down to your lips seductively. 

“Why would you kiss me?” You whispered to him, eyes burning into his own. You desperately wanted to look away out of embarrassment, but you kept strong. 

“Because I’m in love with you,” he said so nonchalantly. 

Your eyes widened and you stepped back at his words, visibly recoiling. “Excuse me?” You asked, raising your eyebrow. 

“You heard me,” Tom replied as he dropped his hands from your cheeks and gripped onto your hip, earning a squeak from you. “I’m glad you found my diary.” 

“I didn’t find it,” you whispered. “It was placed in my belongings and was there when I woke up the other morning.” 

Tom hummed and with his free hand, stroked his chin. “Fate has brought us together then, my love. Together, we can do it.”

You pulled away from Tom’s grasp and looked at him with confusion on your face. “Do… What?” 

“Open the Chamber Of Secrets, of course,” Tom replied. The Chamber Of Secrets? What on earth was the Chamber Of Secrets? Your face must have asked the question before you could vocalise it, and Tom chuckled. “You don’t know about the Chamber Of Secrets?” You shook your head. “What are they teaching you at this forsaken school,” Tom said whilst rolling his eyes. 

“Magic,” you answered softly. 

Tom continued to roll his eyes at your answer but he leaned in closer to you once more, his breath fanning across your face causing your entire body to shiver in anticipation. “Will you help me?” He asked. Without even thinking, you found yourself nodding a simple ‘yes’. Tom pulled away from your ear and smirked down at you. “Good. Good. We shall waste no time and get to work immediately.” 

“Okay…” You nodded slowly. You looked into Tom’s eyes and felt your palms get sweaty almost instantly at the way he was looking at you. There was a hint of need there, possession maybe. Whatever it was, you couldn’t quite place it. 

“About that kiss,” Tom whispered huskily, stepping one step closer to you so that he was now invading your personal space. “Would you like it?” 

Before you even thought about it, your head was nodding a ‘yes’. Tom was grinning at you, licking his lips before he placed them on yours softly. You whimpered the second his lips touched yours but melted into the kiss almost immediately. You felt Tom’s hands rest on your hips, gripping tightly and pulling you flush against his chest protectively. Tom wasted no time in deepening the kiss, pushing you backwards until your back hit a wall behind you. You were suddenly trapped and wouldn’t be able to get away from him if you wanted to. Your cheeks were on fire as you felt Tom bite down on your bottom lip between his teeth before he pulled away and looked at you. 

“How was that?” He asked breathlessly. His arms had fallen from your hips and were now resting on either side of your head as he leaned above you against the wall. 

“Best fake kiss I’ve ever had,” you whispered, voice low and nervous. 

“I think it’s time I return you to your time,” Tom said, a hint of sadness in his voice. “I just wish I could keep you here with me… Forever.” 

You blushed furiously at his words and before you knew it, you were being transported out of the diary and you were sitting back on your bed in the girls dorm. The diary was once again open and a few words were sprawled on the page for you to see:

Come visit me again soon sweetheart. 

#tom riddle #tom riddle x reader #tom marvolo riddle #tom marvolo riddle x reader #lord voldemort #lord voldemort x reader #voldemort #voldemort x reader #harry potter #harry potter imagines #harry potter x reader #harry potter imagine #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle imagines #tom riddle x you #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle fluff

[mrsdarkandyandere7]

Yandere Tom Riddle Headcanons

Pairing: Yandere Tom Riddle x (female) Hufflepuff Reader

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

AN: Please, reblog and give me feedback.

--

You’re a direct descendent from the Hufflepuff bloodline, something that definitely stirs up Tom’s attention. That means you’re the true heir of the Hufflepuff House, just like he is with the Slytherin House. 

Even though you’re both the heirs to your own bloodlines plus the fact that you are a pure-blood, he’ll never consider you to be equal to him. You’re undoubtedly superior to the rest of the peasants, but not him. 

After all, Hufflepuff is ridiculously kind and mundane, every Hufflepuff is a weak thing in Tom’s eyes. Always disgustingly nice and ready to help others. Truly abhorrent.

But desperate times call for equally desperate measures. 

However, he’ll also consider that you’re both equal in a twisted way given that you’re both the last of your kind. Descendants of the noble and pure-blood families that had once created Hogwarts.  

Therefore, you must bond yourselves into an unbreakable union. You belong together. Tom has complex and ambitious plans to conquer the Wizarding world and he imagines that with you by his side. 

You’re 2 years younger than him, so he tries to get closer to you by pretending to help you with your studying. He’s already studied whatever you’re currently studying, not to mention that he is one of Hogwarts top students, if not the best. He often offers to let you borrow his scrolls of notes. 

As a Prefect, he would often give you a free pass whenever you and your stupid friends created some trouble, pretending to be a nice person as he knows how much that’ll mean to you. You do have a sweet spot for kind people, after all. 

He developed a rather stalkerish habit of coincidentally appearing wherever you are, his eyes always discreetly following you. And if he’s busy with other duties, then he’ll have the members of his tight circle of friends to keep an eye on you. 

He keeps up the facade of being an absolute gentleman and an exemplary student in front of you, often trying to start a conversation with you and treating you better than others, mentioning how you’re far superior from the rest of the students. 

However, he’s not able to fully convince you of his “kind” nature. There’s always an implicit hesitance in you whenever you interact with Tom, maybe it’s nothing but you’re always having a bad feeling when you’re around Tom. 

Like he’s not being completely truthful towards you, almost as if there’s something wrong with him. You try not to dwell too much on those thoughts, preferring to offer him a hand of friendship for him to prove himself to be a good human being. 

As you get older, his behavior also changes. He becomes different, more mature, more committed to his plans. 

One day, he reveals to you in great secret that he is the heir of the Slytherin House and of all the plans he has for the future. On how he expects you to join him and take your place by his side. 

You can’t decipher whether he’s joking or being delusional, but it doesn’t matter. You’ll have to play along with it, Tom is too dangerous for you to reject him. 

But if you prove yourself to be incapable of being loyal to him and his cause, Tom will be forced to make you submit through the Imperio spell. 

That way you won’t be able to rebel up against him. You’re meant to be his Dark Lady and you’re no one to stop that from happening. 

#@mrsdarkandyandere7 #yandere tom riddle #dark tom riddle #dark!tom riddle #yandere harry potter #yandere!tom riddle #yandere tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle imagines #tom riddle imagine #yandere x reader #yandere voldemort #voldemort x reader #tw: yandere

[lostmyremembrall]

Tom Riddle, a man of sophistication

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

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

Tom Riddle Incorrect Quotes

@buckysmetalhand @eclecticpatrolroadlawyer @percy-the-hufflepuff

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

[skylarinfinity]

[golden trio and male reader found files about past voldemort aka tom riddle]

harry : [excited] we can use this information to defend voldemort!

male reader : [staring at tom riddle photo and laugh awkwardly] this photos make me want to turn into the dark side...

hermione : [sighed] really, male reader?

male reader : what?! you can't deny that he was a dashing lad!

ron : [nodding] you not wrong...

tags lists @sonicqaulan @graysonfriggason @thebettermaximofftwins @sloanalistair @acienthazard @starlinggoldeneyes @ortegaolsen @wednesdaywanda @sandwichmarvel @gardenofmarvel @wanda-cabin-natasha-jacket @panandinpain0 @badblondebisexualboy @loving-wanda-in-every-universe

#male reader #malereader #male y/n #incorrect male reader #incorrect quotes male reader #male reader incorrect quotes #male reader insert #male reader imagine #male reader harry potter #harry potter x male reader #xmalereader #xmale reader #x male reader #x male y/n #x male!reader #incorrect tom riddle #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle imagines #tom riddle incorrect quotes #incorrect quotes tom riddle #tom riddle x male reader #tom riddle X male!reader #tom riddle #harry potter #hermione granger #male! reader #male!reader #male!y/n #incorrect quotes #harry potter incorrect quotes

[rxsilabeth--er]

death-eaters on crack...

Barty Crouch Jr: *speaking to camera* So for those who don't know, our Lord's spouse is the smartest person in the world!!!

Tom Riddle: No they aren't Barty!

Barty: THEY ARE! LORD'S SPOUSE!! How many seas are there in Asia?

Y/N: There's no C's in Asia. A-S-I-A! Simple!

Tom: That's not the fucking question!

Barty: LORD! How many continents are there??

Tom: There's 7 continents!

Y/N: There's 21 continents and 5 vowels!! You're fucking stupid, that's what you are!

Tom: THAT'S CONSONANTS! YOU GOBLINSHIT!!

Barty: GO ON LORD'S SPOUSE, PUT HIM IN HIS PLACE!! Final question~ What time is it in China?? Right now.

Y/N: It's 25 past 4!

Tom: HOW CAN IT BE 25 PAST 4 IN CHINA WHEN IT'S FUCKING 25 PAST 4 HERE?!

Y/N: THAT CLOCK WAS MADE IN CHINA!!! And it says 25 past 4, you haven't a fucking clue!!

Tom: YOU'RE A GOBLINSHIT!

Bellatrix: There's always one in the family, don't worry mammy we still love you *pats Tom Riddle's hand*

Tom: YOU KNOW WHAT, I'M SICK OF YOU SHITS!!

@sor--en

#tom marvolo riddle #tom riddle #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle incorrect quotes #incorrect quotes #incorrect marauders quotes #found family #y/n incorrect quotes #harry potter incorrect quotes #tom riddle imagines #tom riddle x you #lord voldemort #voldemort

[multific]

Much The Same

Tom Riddle x Reader

Summary: Tom takes interest in you, he doesn’t know why.

Just what was it about you that made Tom so interested?

Was it your eyes? The innocence and shine behind them?

Your pure blood? Being from a well-established house of Wizards.

Your smile? Something that somehow always made him want to smile as well.

Or was it your skin? Skin that glowed gorgeously under the sun.

Tom couldn't choose. Perhaps because it was all of these things and many more.

You were clever, kind and always helpful. You knew the answer to everything, you were always in the library, reading or studying when you weren't in the Great hall eating your favourite foods.

He shouldn't have noticed you. But he did.

You were an excellent student, very smart. And that piqued his interest.

He started to notice you more and more.

He knew about your family, but then he noticed your smile as you kindly helped a first year who got lost.

You didn't have an ounce of bad in you. No hate, no anger, nothing.

You were just pure and perfect.

Ah, maybe he wanted to ruin that perfection. Maybe he wanted to see your dark side. Maybe he wanted for you to see your own dark side.

Tom wasn't sure.

And he didn't need to know. He just wanted you for himself. He wanted, needed you to be his.

His obsession with you was hard for you to ignore.

He was a handsome Slytherin. A bad boy. Everyone loved bad boys, you weren't any different.

He knew he saw you like everyone else, an innocent little girl who lived to study.

But they didn't know what you were reading. No one.

But you wanted Tom to know. So, one day, when you noticed he followed you to the library, you 'accidentally' left one of your notebooks on the table.

He was quick to catch on your bait and took the notebook. He wanted to give it back to you. He really did. But he decided to keep it. It smelled like you, he liked that.

But when he opened it, he couldn't believe what he saw.

The first few pages were normal student notes, but then around the tenth page, it all turned into something else. Dark magic, creatures and Horcruxes.

Tom was shocked. Soon, he realized that you were not as innocent as everyone thought.

Reading through your notes it became clear to him, you were planning something very similar as he was. He was smiling and smirking the whole time. Now he knew just why he was so attracted. You were just like him.

Then on the last page, writting appeared.

'Dear Tom, If you could give me my notebook back please. I am on top of the astronomy tower.'

He didn't need to be told twice. His long legs carried him through the halls as he passed many students, his goal, clear.

Soon he arrived and he saw you, your notebook in his hand.

"You left it for me intentionally," he said as you turn to look at him.

"I wanted at least one person to see the real me. Should I regret it?" he took long steps, caging you in between him and the rails.

"We are much the same, My Dear." he smirked as you put your hand on his shoulder. "I believe I have found My Queen."

It was your time to smirk as you grabbed him by his tie and pressed his lips against yours.

Your deepest, darkest desires. That is what Tom was. He was everything you ever wanted.

He is your past, present and future.

Taglist: @fleursirvart @greenarrowhead @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @destynelseclipsa @spilledinkindumpster @capsiclesdoll @puknow @alwayshave-faith @alex12948 @lxdyred  @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek​ @praline357 @trshngyn @avengers-r-us @violet-19999 @top1bbgloak   @manduse   @jacalineiscomingforyou  

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

DO NOT STEAL, PLAGIARISE, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS  

#tom riddle #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x you #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle imagines #voldemort #voldemort x reader #voldemort x you #voldemort imagine #voldemort imagines #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fanfic #harry potter imagine #harry potter imagines

[incorrect-quotes1]

You: You know, I'm starting to regret showing you how that blender works. Tom Riddle, drinking toast: Why do you say that?

#tom riddle #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle imaigne #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle imagines #harry potter #harry potter incorrect quotes #harry potter imagine #harry potter imagines #harry potter x reader

[riddlesdoll]

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

omg, someone finally asked this question!!

1.) His Dark Lady - dxddydracomalfoyyy

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

2.) A Riddle to Solve - SSTAR2000

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

3.) Oh, Ophelia - Maebelletree

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

4.) Now and then - hmmdisgustin

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

5.) Kneel - JulieHoscar

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

6.) RIDDLE. DISCONTINUED - ravenclaws-

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

7.) Midmorning - murderarts

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

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

DISCLAIMER: All of these are in wattpad!!

#tom riddle #tom riddle fic #fanfic #fanfiction #tom marvolo riddle #christian coulson #tom riddle smut #tom riddle fluff #tom riddle oneshot #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle imagines #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x reader smut #yandere tom riddle

[sunder-soul]

◦•Half the Fun•◦

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

Summary: You're playing games with someone who is very, very used to winning. Wordcount: 800 Warnings: none this time besties 🕊️

ℙ𝕖𝕣𝕞𝕒𝕟𝕖𝕟𝕥 𝕋𝕒𝕘𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥

𝔸 - 𝕄 @abhorredlara​​ @anakinishotdoe​ @anevrismes​ @arana-alpha​ @books-butterbeer @catastrophicalllyy​ @dear-fifi​ @dropssofjupitter ​​ @dravenwitchmusings ​​ @emeraldphoenixblackthorn ​ @empath-bunny ​ @evertiel ​ @expectoscamander ​ @fish-eg ​ @ginasellsbooks ​ @grimdevil ​ @herfantasyworldd ​ @hueanhdang ​ @hypnohawke ​ @itsjustfics​ ​ @itzjennieofficial​ @iwastoowildinthe70s @justhurtnocomfort ​ @kennafild ​ @lemirabitur ​​ @lovelyysiriuss ​​ @lucys-brain ​ @mentally-in-northern-italy ​ @mikariell95 @michaels-gardenaesthetic ​​ @moatsnow ​ ​​ ℕ - ℤ @niallwrld @nothinghcppens​ @obliviouspotter @oui-magnifique @pearlstiare @pink-kixxes @qblaughter @rainyroads @raven-riddle @rededfoxy @rinsdesires @saintsha @seriouslyginnychase @shunamai @silverdelirium @sokkasdimples @suicide-sweetheart636 @sunles @sweetpsycho46 @tallyovie @theyoungestchild0w0 @tm-mrvl-rddl @toasterking @twofacesoftheworldbutnotsome @until-the-last-falling-star @valentinecarnage @vallastempermental @voidmalfoy @weirdowithnobeardo @whentheskyispinkandabitblue @whoevenfrickenknows @whoreforgeorgeandfred @wizardcherryblossom @wymindog​ @yepitslainie

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. 

The first thing you learn about him is that he’s not just beloved, he’s an obsession. People don’t like him in the traditional sense of the word. You don’t have to actually talk to Tom at all to consider him your friend, you just have to sort of know about him, be a class with him, sit in the Great Hall at the same time as him, pass him in the corridor or share a table in the library. That’s enough for everyone to smile at each other fondly when he raises his hand to answer yet another question, or when he gets awarded another ten points for a perfect jinx in Defense Against the Dark Arts. It’s enough to merit someone permission to make a passing joke about his latest class distinction to their friends, or comment on how well he’s done in the latest assignment from Dumbledore, or raise their eyebrows and smirk when another lovestruck hopeful approaches him to ask (very transparently) for ‘help with their homework’ or to ‘look over their essay,’ or even for him to tutor them in one or other of the many classes he excels in.

The second thing you learn about him is that he does very little to discourage people treating him this way, and yet nothing ever seems to really come from it. Tom is good at smiling, he does it all the time and he gets no shortage of practice. He’s good at the polite but humble smiles when the professors praise him in class, and the slightly dry smiles when the class titter at yet another of his achievements, and the soft smiles when one of his admirers gather their courage to actually approach him. These he’s particularly adept at, the line between steadfast refusal and gentle charm. No one rejected by Tom (which is everyone) seems to really resent him for it; he’s become so skilled at the art of dissuasion that people come away from the experience sorely heartbroken and even more in love with him as before.

The third thing you learn about Tom is that he’s a collector. He doesn’t really want to get an Outstanding grade in an assignment, he wants Outstanding in all his assignments. He wants to take every N.E.W.T. class, he wants to win 100 percent of the duels in Defence Against the Dark Arts, read the entirety of the recommended chapters for History of Magic, and earn spots on all the internships offered for after graduation. You strongly suspect that a single Outstanding result offers him absolutey no satisfaction by itself at all, and it becomes increasingly evident to you that it’s not so much any particular achievement itself that he craves, but the absoluteness of having achieved it all. You imagine that it would only take one single misstep in an otherwise perfect sweep for him to consider the whole thing a failure. You imagine it’s a very punishing way to live.

Maybe it’s this fascination with perfection and collection that makes him so determined to figure out why you don’t seem to like him very much at all, a single blot on his otherwise spotless record, the last domino for him to push over before he can step back and finally triumph over his conquered playing field. Maybe that’s why he can’t seem to decide if he enjoys the challenge or if he resents you for withholding that satisfaction from him, a battle you frequently catch glimpses of on his face before he hides it all away again with skilled practice. You wonder if he loses sleep over it, if he lies there in his bed in the Slytherin dorm twisted up in his own strange, frustrated obsession, why it doesn’t work, why he doesn’t work for you, what he’s missing, what he’s not seeing. Sometimes he seems a little tired on Tuesday mornings when you sit next to him in Transfiguration, and it makes you wonder about his night. He never seems tired any other day.

He talks to you when he can pass it off as anything other than him trying to talk to you; he asks your opinion on the book you’re assigned unprompted, he suggests that you edit each others’ essays before the deadline passes, he even invites you to study with him over the weekend some time when your classwork gets more demanding. In fact, Tom talks to you the same way everyone else in the school talks to him. You wonder how infuriating he finds it to see his own charming, dissuading smile mirrored back at him when you say no, you suspect rather a lot considering that’s the only time you ever see his jaw tighten like that, and his fingers go utterly still where he’s holding his quill, or his eyes go a little darker, flat and unrelenting before he reminds himself to smile back. It gives you satisfaction unlike anything he’ll ever get to savour.

Knowing that is half the fun of withholding it from him in the first place, after all.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. 

#Tom Riddle #tom marvolo riddle #Tmr #Tom riddle fic #Tom riddle fanfic #Tom riddle fanfiction #Tom riddle imagine #Tom riddle imagines #tom riddle x you #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x oc #Who asked for this? Fucking nobody #But here i am #Thinking about this mf again #Harry Potter #Half the Fun

[sadnymi]

「 ✦ how would Slytherin boys react to you having a crush on them ✦ 」 [part2]

Regulus Black

Regulus might be rendered speechless. His eyes would widen momentarily, reflecting a mixture of surprise and something deeper, perhaps a flicker of hope. He might stammer slightly, struggling to form a coherent response.

A part of him yearns to reciprocate your feelings, to revel in the unexpected joy of your affection. But another part, burdened by family expectations and a sense of duty, might hold him back. This internal conflict could manifest in his behavior – becoming withdrawn, avoiding eye contact, or appearing lost in thought.

Regulus might shower you with subtle yet meaningful gestures. He might anonymously send you a bouquet of your favorite flowers, the kind you once mentioned admiring in Herbology class. He might "accidentally" bump into you in the library, leaving behind a rare book on a subject you expressed interest in. These unspoken acts of affection would be his way of expressing his feelings without defying the expectations placed upon him.

might yearn for a life where he could openly express his love, a life free from the constraints of his family legacy. This longing might manifest in fleeting glances exchanged across the Great Hall, filled with a bittersweet tenderness.

He'll initiate more physical contact, such as touching your hand, hugging you, or leaning in closer when talking to you.

Draco Malfoy.

Draco's usual composure might crack for a moment. Expect a stammer, a flushed face, or a poorly disguised attempt to act nonchalant.

To mask his fluster, Draco might resort to his usual arrogant demeanor. He could make snide remarks or try to downplay your feelings.

He wouldn't openly declare his feelings. Instead, he might subtly show his care: offering you his notes in class, anonymously sending you a rare magical ingredient, or "accidentally" bumping into you in the halls.

He might subtly brag about your crush to his friends, trying to appear nonchalant while secretly basking in the attention.

Despite his initial awkwardness, Draco would be a surprisingly protective friend (if not yet a boyfriend). He wouldn't tolerate anyone bullying you and might step in to "defend your honor" (even if you didn't need defending).

Tom Riddle

Tom wouldn't reveal his emotions readily. He'd observe you with a calculating gaze, trying to understand your motives and the potential benefits of your affection.

Tom might see your crush as a tool. He could use your feelings to gain your trust or influence your actions for his own agenda. A sudden "kindness" or excessive charm.

If he deems you valuable, Tom might become possessive and controlling. He might use threats or fear to keep you in line.

In a rare moment of vulnerability, Tom might confide a secret or hidden desire, testing the waters of your loyalty and trust. A deep sadness might cloud Regulus' eyes at times.

become obsessed with you, it turned dangerous. He might resort to dark magic or manipulation to keep you close, regardless of your feelings.

Blaise Zabini Blaise

would likely seize the opportunity to tease you mercilessly. Expect witty remarks, playful nudges, and a barrage of "friendly" jabs about your crush.

The teasing might morph into playful flirting. He'd test the waters with compliments, winks, and suggestive innuendos to see how you respond.

Blaise would exude an air of confidence, perhaps boasting about his irresistible charm (though secretly hoping you find him genuine).

If he truly likes you back, the teasing might lessen, replaced by genuine conversations and attempts to get to know you better.

Blaise might turn surprisingly protective if he senses someone else vying for your attention. He'd use his wit and charm (and maybe a subtle threat or two) to scare off any competition.

#fluff imagines #slytherin boys x you #slytherin boys x reader #slytherin boys #tom riddle #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x you #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle imagines #regulus black x reader #regulus black #regulus black imagine #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy imagine #blaise zabini #blaise zabini x reader #blaise zabini imagine #headcanon #theodore nott

[atypicalamortentia]

Agreement || Lord Voldemort

Synopsis - Your family and the Dark Lord were very close, so close that an agreement had been made on your behalf when you were just a little girl: you were to be married to Lord Voldemort.

Warnings - NSFW.

Word Count - 3.2k.

[Caffeinate Me]

You’re the daughter of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. You had recently graduated from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry with some of the best scores the school had ever seen. You’re a powerful witch and you know it. 

You were aware that your family had dealings with the Dark Lord, Lord Voldemort. However, you had yet to be involved. If you were home when the Dark Lord came to visit, your mother told you to go upstairs and stay quiet. You wondered if Voldemort knew your existed, and if so, why you hadn’t been drafted to be a Death Eater like your brother Draco. 

Today started like any other day. You woke up, went downstairs for breakfast and washed up when everyone was finished eating. As you put the dishes away, your mother approached you and whispered in your ear, “the Dark Lord is coming. You know what to do.” You nodded in response. You quickly finished putting away the dishes and turned on your heels. You walked to the large staircase at the entrance of your home and swiftly walked up them and down the long hallway leading to your bedroom. You were to keep yourself silent until you were called for. 

As soon as you reached your bedroom, you closed the door and lay on your bed. For a few moments you stared at the ceiling, listening out for the arrival of the Dark Lord, however all you heard was your brother and father arguing.   

“It’s not time yet father,” you heard Draco murmur. 

“I think it is time Draco,” your father hissed in response. “Do you dare question my actions?” 

There was a moment of silence before Draco responded. “No father.” 

You heard two pairs of footsteps walk down the hall and suddenly you were alone with your thoughts again. You couldn’t help but want to know what it was your father and brother were arguing about. What wasn’t it time for? You weren’t sure but you’d ask Draco about it later. You continued to lay on your bed and stared at the ceiling as you heard the chatter begin downstairs signalling the arrival of the Dark Lord. You closed your eyes and soon fell into a deep slumped. 

A significant time must have passed while you were asleep. You woke up to a dark room, the only light being from the moon outside of your window. You sat up in bed and rubbed the sleep from your eyes with a yawn. You stood up from your position on the bed and moved to the door, listening out closely to hear any signs of life from downstairs. 

Silence. 

You had assumed somebody had called for you while you were asleep which is why you had never heard so you made your way out of your room and down the hall. The stairs seemed never ending in the dark as you walked down them, being careful so as not to trip on the way. You made your way to the closed dining room door, still listening out for conversation that wasn’t there. You took that as a sign the Dark Lord and all the other Death Eaters had all left so, slowly, you opened the dining room door and peered around. 

Your eyes widened. 

“There’s my princess,” he said. At the head of the table, where your father would usually be at dinner, Voldemort sat. An extremely pale being, adorned in deep green robes, the Slytherin house colours. You looked at the table top to see a huge serpent, the biggest serpent you’ve ever seen, making itself at home. Around the table were the Dark Lords loyal followers including your mother, father and brother. You were overcome with fear, unable to move as Voldemort beckoned you towards him with a pale finger. “Come, princess,” he spoke quietly. 

You wanted to run, but you knew in your heart it was futile. He would catch you, no matter where you fled. You looked to your father who nodded to you, signalling that you should do as the Dark Lord said. With wide eyes and shaky steps, you made your way over to him. Once you reached his side, Voldemort grasped your hips and dug his long fingernails into the jumper you were wearing before pulling you down to sit on his lap. Your eyes widened even more, if that was even possible, and numerous thoughts spun around in your mind. “My lord-” your father started, but was quickly silenced. 

“Now now Lucius,” Voldemort hissed. “This is all part of our agreement.”

Agreement?

You looked to your father and mother in confusion but the two avoided your gaze, eyes fixed on the Dark Lord. “What’s the matter princess? You’re trembling,” Voldemort whispered in your right ear. His breath was hot against your skin, but despite that you felt the goosebumps rise on your arms. “Did your parents not tell you? They really thought keeping you away from me would stop what was meant to be.” 

“E-Excuse me?” You asked, a slight stutter on your tongue. 

“Dear dear,” Voldemort tutted, shaking his head before looking at your father. Then, Voldemort turned his attention to you, his fingers grasping your chin and forcing you to look at him. “My princess. We are to be married.” 

“Married?!” You yelped in surprise. You attempted to jump off the Dark Lord’s lap, but he kept you planted firmly where he wanted you. “I-I can’t get married.” 

“My dear Y/N,” he whispered. “You have no choice. You will learn to love me.” 

You couldn’t help but shiver at his words. How could you love him? He had sounded so sinister in that moment and it clicked in your head, this is what your father and Draco were arguing about earlier before you had fallen asleep. You looked around the table at the Death Eaters. “But why me?” You asked. 

“My princess,” Voldemort spoke, his tone soft. “You are the most powerful witch I know and if anybody can help me, I know it’s you.” His eyes held a raw determination you had never seen before. “We will have powerful children.” 

“Children?!” You yelped again. 

Your father seemed to stiffen at the mention of you having children and this didn’t go unnoticed by the Dark Lord. Voldemort looked to your father with a smile on his face before looking back at you, “should we start now? You have a free bedroom, do you not?” His tone was mocking as his hands rubbed at your hips. Your father couldn’t help but stand up, slamming his hands on the table in front of him. Voldemort simply chuckled. “Is there a problem, Lucius?”   

Your father pursed his lips and sat back down again. Gritting his teeth he shook his head. You could tell he was desperate to say something but feared what would happen to him if he did. Your mother placed her hand on his arm in an attempt to keep him calm. “Lucius,” she whispered, a warning almost. 

Voldemort turned to you once more once your father had backed down. A sickeningly sweet yet twisted smile lay on his lips. Your heart was pounding in your chest, whether it was from fear or embarrassment you weren’t quite sure. Voldemort brought his hand up to stroke your hair and admired the glint of fear that burned in your eyes. You opened your mouth to speak but were unsure of what to say, so, you closed your mouth. Your head was spinning.

“What’s wrong, my princess?” The Dark Lord whispered in your ear. You opened your mouth to speak again, but no words came out. “My pet, these are all your loyal servants. They will do anything you ask them to do. All you have to do is be by my side.” You turned your attention from the Dark Lord to the Death Eaters sitting around the table, but none of them looked your way. None of them would help you in your current situation, not even your family. You gulped hard as Voldemort's hands moved along your hips, nails digging into the fabric of your shirt ever so slightly, almost as if it was a reminder of who he was and the power he held. You felt trapped, powerless at this moment in time. You felt his lips ghost over your neck, licking at the soft flesh covering your jugular vein. “All of this will be yours and so much more.” He pushed you off his lap and stood up. He towered over you, his presence felt threatening. “Come, my dear.” 

“Where are we going?” You ask, a slight stutter in your voice. 

“Back to my home,” Voldemort grinned. “You will be living with me from now on. All your belongings will be brought back to our home.”

Your eyes widened with surprise and you immediately began to shake your head with defiance. “I-I can’t!” You cry out, looking to your father and mother for help. Neither of them looked your way. “Mother! Father! Tell him!”

Your father finally looked at you. There was sadness in his eyes. “Y/N,” he spoke softly. “You have to go.”

“You cannot be serious,” You snapped, eyes filled with fury. You turned to see Voldemort standing next to you, his hand outstretched. 

“Come my dear,” he whispered, beckoning you. You looked to your family in one last attempt for help, but to no avail. You sighed silently, and slumped your shoulders in defeat. You knew you had no choice. You stormed past Voldemort and out of your now previous home. 

A few days had passed since that day. You were still getting used to this whole arrangement. You missed your family, though. You missed your gentle mother, stubborn father and obnoxious brother to no end. You jumped as the bedroom door opened, revealing The Dark Lord himself. You hadn’t seen him since that day so you were shocked at his presence. “What are you doing?” You shrieked. “I could have been naked or-or anything!” 

“It’s only a matter of time before I see you naked, my princess,” Voldemort grinned. You squirmed at the thought of having sex with him. “I came to announce that your family will be arriving shortly for the ceremony.”

“What ceremony?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“Our wedding of course,” the Dark Lord responded. He held his hand out to you like he did that day, beckoning you to come to him. “You should get ready. Your dress is this way.” 

You stood up off of the bed and made your way over to him cautiously. This was all moving really, really fast. “Wedding? Already?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. “It’s only been a few days…”

“There is no need to wait, my princess,” The Dark Lord spoke, ushering you to the spare bedroom. “In here, everything is waiting for you.”

You walked into the bedroom. Your mother was sitting on the bed with her head in her hands. As soon as you entered, she shot up, a smile on her face when she saw your form. “Y/N…” She whispered, automatically pulling you in for a hug. 

“Mother,” you whispered back. You looked back to see Voldemort was nowhere to be seen, you closed the door quickly, looking at your mother. “I don’t want this…” You shook your head to the side. 

“But you have to, my dear,” your mother replied back. “For our family.” 

“But-”

“No buts,” she said. “This has to be done.”

It made no sense to you. None of it was making any sense. You knew of none of this before the other day and now it was your wedding day! Your mother moved to the side, revealing a beautiful deep green wedding dress. “Your dress,” your mother smiled. 

Your eyes widened at the sight of the dress. It was beautiful, not your traditional wedding dress but it was still beautiful. “When was all this decided?” You asked, your fingers trailing the seam of the dress. 

“When you were a young girl,” your mother responded. You looked at her with shock, but didn’t say anything else. “Come now. Let’s get you ready.” You nodded, remaining silent. Your mother did your hair and make-up before helping you with your dress. You felt like a princess, but this isn’t the way you thought your wedding day would go… Or who it would be with. There was a knock on the door as your dress slipped on. “Come in!” Your mother called. 

It was your father. He walked in, his eyes widening when he saw you. “You look… Beautiful…” Your father whispered as he walked into the room. He looked you up and down with a slight smile on his face.   

“Thank you,” you mumbled, not looking at him. 

Your father nodded before speaking again, “he’s ready for you now.” 

Your mother nodded and grabbed your arm, your father grabbing your other arm as they led you out into the room and into the main hall of the house. You looked around at the ceiling adorned with fairy-lights and vines, they contrasted perfectly with the dark walls. At the end of the makeshift wedding venue, Lord Voldemort stood. His face twisted into a grin the second he saw you. It sent a shiver up your spine. Your mother and father walked you down the aisle as the music played. Your heart was racing. You spotted Draco sitting at the front, his eyes full of sorrow. He didn’t want this for you. When you reached the altar, Voldemort took your hands in his immediately, his long fingernails cutting your hand slightly. 

“You look simply delectable my princess,” he whispered to you. 

You remained silent again as the priest began the ceremony. It was over quicker than it began, nobody in the room objecting to your new matrimony. “You may now kiss the bride,” the priest spoke, closing the book he was holding. 

The Dark Lord looked at you, before quickly cupping your face in his hands and pulling you close to him before you could even reject him. His tongue licked your lips desperately, almost as if he was begging for entrance into your mouth. You shook your head ‘no’ but his hand snaked down to your waist, squeezing lightly. You squeaked and opened your mouth involuntarily, Voldemort's tongue invading your senses. There were cheers from the Death Eaters around you, but you felt sick to your stomach. You were now married to the Dark Lord. 

“Come, princess,” Voldemort whispered to you as he pulled away. “Let us seal this marriage.” 

He grabbed your hand and led you up the stairs. Your mother and father watched as you disappeared up the stairs. You gulped, knowing what was about to happen. The Dark Lord shoved you into your room before grabbing your hand once more and leading you to the bed. “Let’s make this a night to remember,” he whispered into your ear before slipping his hands up your dress. You squeezed your eyes shut tight and felt as his fingers danced around the top of your underwear before he quickly pulled them down. You already felt exposed despite nothing being on show to him. With one quick swipe, your dress was down by your ankles finally leaving you exposed to the Dark Lord. 

“I…” You mumbled, unsure of what to say. 

“You look so beautiful,” the Dark Lord said to you as his hands trailed down your soft body. “It’s as if you were made for me.” 

His hands grasped your hips, pulling you down onto him. You let out a little squeak as you fell onto him causing the Dark Lord to let out a soft chuckle. His fingers made their way to your clit, stroking slow circles on the sensitive bundle of nerves. You couldn’t help but let out a soft moan. “Does that feel good?” He whispered into your ear, licking a stripe up your lobe. You let out a slow nod, nerves suddenly filling your stomach. He continued his motions on your clit seemingly desperate to please you. He flipped up his robe, revealing his pale and veiny cock, throbbing for you. Your eyes widened and the cliche thought of ‘will it fit’ ran through your head. “Don’t be so scared princess,” The Dark Lord continued to whisper to you. “It’ll be okay.” 

“You’re… You’re huge,” you mumbled. This seemingly stroked his ego as the Dark Lord simply nodded, a smile on his face. 

“I know my precious thing, I know.”

Voldemort rolled over so he was hovering above you, eyes boring into your own. The smile on his lips never faltered as he slicked his dick up your folds slowly, coating himself with your wetness. Without warning, he slammed inside of you. You let out a scream and waited for him to move, but he didn’t for a few seconds. Instead, the Dark Lord gave you time to adjust to his length, cooing into your ear as he did. It felt like a lifetime before he slowly started to thrust inside you, his lips moving to your neck and sucking at the sensitive skin. You bit your lip, trying not to moan as he slipped in and out of you with ease. It didn’t take long for his movements to speed up, his hips smashing into yours relentlessly. Against your will, a moan finally slipped past your lips, and it was loud. Voldemort used this as fuel to continue his pace, his lips still working at your neck as if it was the tastiest meal he had ever had. You continued to let out a variety of whimpers as you felt your orgasm nearing. “I-I can’t!” You cried out, arms wrapping around his neck to steady yourself. 

“That’s it, my pet. Let everyone know how good I can make you feel,” he whispered into your ear. You squeezed your eyes shut once again as your orgasm finally washed over you, legs shaking violently as your cunt spasmed around the Dark Lords cock. “That’s it,” he cooed. “I can feel you pulsing around me.” You let out another cry of pleasure, nails digging into his robes to ground yourself. When your orgasm finally subsided, your brain was in too much of a haze to fully comprehend what happened next. Voldemort’s hips thrusted against you a few more times before he came inside of with, a sound comparable to a roar leaving his lips. His hips stuttered as thick ropes spurted from the tip of his cock deep inside of you, finally claiming you as his own. 

There was silence for a few seconds as you caught your breath, your mind catching up on the events that had happened over the last few hours. You were married now, and to the Dark Lord of all people. “Such a good girl,” Voldemort muttered as he cupped your face in his hands. “We will have powerful children, my love. Just you wait.” 

Before you could say anything he got off of you and fixed himself, and left the room leaving you all alone. You lay on the bed, naked, staring at the ceiling as you processed his words. Your heart raced at the possibility of getting pregnant. You weren’t ready, but you knew that didn’t matter to him. Now, all you could do was wait.. Only time would tell if you would get pregnant to the Dark Lord.

#harry potter #harry potter x reader #tom riddle #tom riddle fluff #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle imagines #tom marvolo riddle #tom marvolo riddle x reader #tom marvolo riddle imagines #tom marvolo riddle imagine #lord voldemort x reader #lord voldemort imagines #lord voldemort imagine #lord voldemort #the dark lord #the dark lord x reader #harry potter imagine #harry potter oneshot #harry potter imagines #harry potter one shot #harry potter one shots #harry potter oneshots

[mrsdarkandyandere7]

Confundus

Pairing: Dark Tom Riddle x (female) Muggle!Reader

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

SUMMARY: Tom isn't afraid to use spells on you.

WARNINGS: Non-Con (blowjob); Power Abuse.

AN: Omg, he's so attractive as Tom Riddle, what do you think? Please, reblog and give me feedback.

--

“But when did we start dating or how did we first meet?” you try to ask, but Tom just hums, too distracted kissing your neck. You try to push him a little bit but to not avail. His chest feels like it's made of hard stone, he doesn't even notice you.

You sigh as his lips continue to trail your neck possessively, his hands gropping your thighs and infiltrating upwards. 

"Tom!" you squeak, irritation bubbling up inside you. You want answers and he’s not giving you any.  

He finally pushes his face away from you, his beautiful cold eyes showing his ravenous anger and you almost cower in fear. He doesn’t like to be interrupted, that’s clear. 

He pulls a strange wooden stick out of his pocket and it surprises you so much that you try to pull away from him, only for Tom to grab your forearm, preventing you from escaping. 

“Confundus!”

Your eyes become blurry for a moment and when they are back to normal, you have a sleepy smile on your face as you reach closer to him, nuzzling his body. 

“Hey there, I missed you, baby.” Tom victoriously smirks upon hearing those words, it’s ridiculous the amount of times a day that he has to evoke the Confundus charm on you, a weak Muggle, just to make sure to keep being compliant. 

“Now why don’t you show me how much you missed me, darling?” Tom dares you, softly tugging you towards his pants as he opens the zipper. Your eyes round up and you immediately drop to your knees, taking him into your mouth. 

Tom almost cums with the sight of you on your knees, your rightful place. Maybe he’ll keep you, after all.

#@mrsdarkandyandere7 #yandere harry potter #yandere tom riddle #yandere tom riddle x reader #yandere!tom riddle #dark!tom riddle #dark!tom riddle x reader #dark tom riddle #dark tom riddle x reader #tw: yandere #tw: noncon #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle imagines #tom riddle x you

[theeslutintheroom]

guys which of my slytherin boyfriends would i look better with

this me ^^

boyfriends: Theodore Nott, Lorenzo Berkshire, Tom Riddle

i need to know for science

#theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott smut #lorenzo berkshire #lorenzo berkshire x reader #tom riddle #tom riddle imagines #tom riddle smut #tom riddle x reader #slytherin boys

[lostmyremembrall]

Tom's Speciality: Manipulation &Manwhoring

Y/N: 10 galleons say you can't make Abraxas fall in love with you within the night.

Tom: *strips his robe to make you hold it*

Tom: Get ready to see manwhoring and manipulation at its finest.

Tom Riddle Incorrect Quotes

@buckysmetalhand @eclecticpatrolroadlawyer @percy-the-hufflepuff

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

[fairy-eclipse]

first of all i LOVE ue writing sm 😩💗 second of all can i request more hufflepuff!reader fic? maybe one where tom has a soft spot for her but pretended that he doesn't, maybe could also be in form of his fingers twitching when she's near coz he wants to hold her hand but NO why would he wanna hold ur hand dammit- unless- HAHA THANKS 🥺💗

Hand in Soiled Hand

Pairing: Tom Riddle x Hufflepuff!Reader

A/N: hihii sorry this took a while (；′⌒`) for the sake of the story we’re going to exaggerate splinching haha

“Destination, determination, deliberation.” 

The words roll off your tongue like the recital of a sacred poem—over and over again, as if by some miracle the repetition might procure a key for the anxiety knotted around your throat. Pressed firmly against your nose and chest, the feeling is much too suffocating, locked entirely too tight for its far less grandiose cause.

Which, you’re a little ashamed to admit, is an Apparition lesson.

“Say that one more time and I will start muttering it in my sleep tonight," Tom admonishes wryly. "Besides, the course has yet to even commence. We’re rather early." He gestures to the jittery sixth years scattered throughout the Hall with a flourish. Somewhere between your stroll here and your arrival, the house tables have gone and reality has crept in with a vengeance. The capaciousness of the room does little to quell the feeling of somersaults multiplying in your stomach.

“You mean you haven’t been doing that?” You laugh, but the sound is strained even to your own ears. “Hey, what if something goes horribly awry?”

Tom shrugs offhandedly and gives you a pointed look. “You voluntarily enrolled for this. Nothing unpleasant will come of it if you follow the steps, and frankly I can’t see how anyone could fail in that regard.”

You shut your eyes. Okay, fair, but you had deemed it a good idea at the time; at least a much sounder one than Floo powder, convenience-wise. You should’ve known Tom wouldn’t share a fragment of your last minute doubts. The day he reaps anything less than an Outstanding on a paper, or loses a duel—something you can’t even begin to picture—is a cold day in Hell. Envy simmers beneath your skin. 

You wrestle it down.

“It’s not that easy,” you mumble quietly, wincing as alarming images flash behind your eyelids in shades of red and horrifying angles of warp and curvature. “I’m not you, and I worry about the stakes. I could get splinched and…” You trail off and suppress a shiver.

When you open your eyes, Tom is absentmindedly twiddling his wand between deft fingers—which is odd considering he’s never been much of a fidgeter—and studying you with pinched brows like he’s carefully mulling over your words. His jaw is set in a way that you’ve taken to mean he’s either extremely peeved or…dangerously determined.

“You won’t.” Tom declares after a moment, such finality in his tone you’re almost inclined to believe him. “I’ll make—” 

He glances down at his fingers. You catch the second realization dawns on his face, irritation written all over his scowl as he hastily tucks his wand into his sleeve and balls his hands into fists. You tilt your head in a silent question.

“Nothing,” Tom snaps. His voice rings clear even in the growing din. Faltering at the anguished look on your face, he pulls one of his classic Tom sighs™ you’ve grown all too familiar with.

“Quit brooding. You won’t splinch yourself—you have it on reliable authority that you’ve been mentally preparing way too long for that.” He smirks when you roll your eyes. “However…on the off chance that you do, I suppose I will,” he grows interested in a spot on the wall behind you, “visit you at the matron. Assuming I have time to.”

You break into an ear-splitting grin. It shouldn’t have taken a mere three sentences to soothe the calamitous sea you call your emotions, it really shouldn’t have, but suddenly you’re too happy to care. Tom compensating for your lack of self-assuredness? Tom promising to swing by provided you’re injured? 

Good heavens.

A swarm of sweaty-faced students rush in with a commotion, greeted by the bell and the instructor’s disapproving cluck of the tongue. You swallow thickly.

Although the weight on your chest feels significantly lighter now, your pulse still thrums unsteadily—a trace of excitement laced in with the nerves this time, to your surprise. You roll your shoulders back and make to move closer to everyone else when something cold encases your hand. 

Soft and grounding, you find yourself short-circuiting in your confusion before you even think of peering over your shoulder. 

When you do, a pair of onyx eyes stare back.

“Wouldn’t want to lose you in the crowd,” Tom whispers, the ghost of a knowing smile lingering on his lips.

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

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