Magic Word | Tom Riddle

Back W/ Your Ex || Slytherin Boys

type :: crack, fluff

tw/cw :: pubes (mattheo), grooming mention (theodore)

contains :: draco malfoy, tom riddle, mattheo riddle, theodore nott, lorenzo berkshire,

summary :: you post a tweet with your toxic ex who's now technically your boyfriend again...

DRACO MALFOY

TOM RIDDLE

MATTHEO RIDDLE

THEODORE NOTT

LORENZO BERKSHIRE

1. Are you named after anyone?

No.

2. When was the last time you cried?

Around a month ago. I tried out meditating, got super dissociated and cried. Idk😭

3. Do you want to have kids?

Not really.

4. What sports do you play/played?

I don't really play sports, though I do like badminton.

5. Do you use sarcasm?

of course😩

6. What’s the first thing you notice about someone?

They're posture? Idk

7. What’s your eye color?

👀Dark brown👀

8. Movies with sad or happy endings?

I like movies with bittersweet endings.

9. What talents do you have?

I'm just gonna go with writing.

10. Where would you like to live?

Idk where I'd like to settle down. Probably somewhere near where I already live.

11. What are your hobbies?

Writing, reading, watching shows & movies, listening to music, and daydreaming.

12. Do you have any pets?

No.

13. How tall are you?

Imma be for real. Idk my height.

14. Favorite subject in school?

English.

15. What is your dream job?

Published author

15 questions 15 bloggers

1. Are you named after anyone?

Nope.

2. When was the last time you cried?

Yesterday, bcz of mood swings.

3. Do you want to have kids?

In the future, yes.

4. What sports do you play/played?

I played tennis when I was like 10 or something like that. Since then, none. Now I sometimes play tennis or volleyball just for entertainment.

5. Do you use sarcasm?

Sarcasm is the integral part of my life.

6. What’s the first thing you notice about someone?

Maybe style and manners.

7. What’s your eye color?

Nut brown.

8. Movies with sad or happy endings?

Probably happy, but sometimes sad. It depends on my mood.

9. What talents do you have?

Singing? Yeah, well, I have a pretty good voice. I also am good at writing poems, and I can do literally every accent, I just have to listen to native speakers closely.

10. Where would you like to live?

Tbh I like where I am, but if I have to choose, maybe New York. I just love chaos.

11. What are your hobbies?

Writing stories, poems, songs, fanfics, imagines, oneshots and literally everything, singing, and playing on the guitar and the piano.

12. Do you have any pets?

Nope, none.

13. How tall are you?

I’m just 5’4. BUT, in my defense, I still am young and it’s not bad height for girls my age.

14. Favorite subject in school?

Probably English, Literature and P.E.

15. What is your dream job?

I want to be an actress and singer so bad.

Tagging: @gamoraaaaaa @bookofspiders @vintagebishx @vbecker10 @tomriddleslovergirl @queenoffiresign88 @idiotlosingsanity @wintrsoldrluvr @auroralwriting @lotrefcp @navybrat817 @buckysforeverprincess @morally-grey-variant @annmaximoff18 @starkeysprincess + anyone else who wants to join <3 (no pressure tags ofc)

The Fruit of Your Labour

Pairing: Mattheo Riddle x Reader

Wordcount: 1k

Summary: After months of searching, you finally find Mattheo.

It’s been months. Months since you’ve last seen your boyfriend. Months spent on trying to track Mattheo down. And finally, you’ve found him.

You stand on the porch of a small house, staring at the front door. You chew your bottom lip raw, your hands forming fists — crinkling the note with the house’s address in your hand. You shove it into your pocket.

Your heart races. You haven’t seen Mattheo in so long. So many emotions and thoughts have gone through you since he disappeared. You had been scared, wondering what had happened to him. And after finding out that he had run away, you were left with one word in particular running through your head.

Why? Why would Mattheo leave? Why would he leave Hogwarts, his friends, you?

Though you are afraid Mattheo will turn you away at the door, you curl your hand into a fist, about to knock, when suddenly the door creaks open.

Arm falling to the side, you stare at the man before you. His warm brown eyes look at you in the same way. 

Mattheo looks almost the same, except that there are bangs under his eyes and his scar has been covered by what you assume is magic.

He speaks your name, snapping you out of your trance.

“Mattheo.. Mattheo." You speak his name almost unbelievingly. You want to jump into his arms and also slap him. “You left.”

He wears his guilt on his face. Good.

“I-I can explain,” Mattheo says, reaching out for you. You think he’s about to hug you, but instead, he pulls you into the house and shuts the door behind you.

“Does anyone else know you’re here? Where I am?” He sounds frantic and his body language shows it.

You shake your head. “No. As soon as I found out about your whereabouts, I came here.” You grab the note in your pocket and show it to Mattheo as some sort of pathetic show for proof.

He snatches it from you and scans the writing before throwing the paper into the fireplace.

“You can’t tell anybody about me,” he says.

Your brows furrow and your lips form a frown. “Why not?”

Mattheo sighs, though his gaze softens into something more familiar. He pulls you towards him and wraps his arms around your frame. Despite yourself, you melt into Mattheo’s embrace.

“You left,” You whisper against his chest.

“I know,” he whispers back.

You both pull away from each other and he gestures towards the couch. You sit down.

“I’m Voldemort’s son.”

You stare up at him, dumbfounded. It takes a moment for you to process those words. “What?”

He sighs again and awkwardly scratches the back of his head. “Yeah…”

You shake your head, unbelieving, though you know Mattheo wouldn’t joke at a time like this. “But your parents are… Bellatrix and Rodolphus.”

Suddenly, you remember all those times you would write Mattheo’s name in your diary. Mattheo Lestrange Black.

“I didn’t believe it as well. Turns out my mom had a thing going on with the Dark Lord.” Mattheo takes a seat next to you. “Voldemort suddenly found out that I was technically his son a few months ago, and he wanted to kill me. My parents helped me run away before he actually hurt me,” he explains nervously, and glances at you.

You take in everything Mattheo says, on guard.

“How long will you be here for?” You ask, grasping his pale hand and giving it a squeeze.

Mattheo shrugs and interlocks your fingers with his. “I don’t know. Hopefully when he dies.”

The Order of the Phoenix. You want to suddenly tell Mattheo all about it, but somehow keep your mouth shut.

You give his hand another reassuring squeeze.

“Are you going to leave again? Now that I know where you are.”

Mattheo shakes his head. “I don’t want to, and I don’t want to leave you again.”

You can’t help but smile at his words. You feel tears prick the corners of your eyes but quickly wipe them away. “Everyone was so worried about you,” you say, hoping Mattheo couldn’t hear the tremble that laced your words.

His eyes light up as you mention the others. “How are they doing?”

“Everyone was worried when you first left,” You repeat. “I haven’t really been keeping up with the others all that much, if I’m being honest.”

Mattheo nods.

“What if he finds you?” You can’t help but ask. The ‘he’ in questions doesn’t have to be specified.

You listen to the crackling of the fire as Mattheo thinks for a moment. “There are protective charms covering this area. If Voldemort or one of his cronies tries, I’ll be informed. So, I’ll have some extra time to get away.”

Oh. That’s a bit of a relief to hear. You relax and let yourself be held by Mattheo. Soon, you find yourself sitting sideways atop his lap.

“I really missed you,” he says, pressing his face against your neck.

“I did too.” You run your fingers through Mattheo’s dark hair, and gently grip it to force his face back. You press a kiss to his lips, which he returns. He wraps one hand around your waist, bringing you closer, while the other rests on one of your legs. You in turn wrap your arms around Mattheos neck, deepening the kiss.

You wish you could stay like this forever, held in the arms of the person you loved. Love. You  realize you haven't told Mattheo you love him yet.

You break the kiss and whisper near his lips, “I love you, Mattheo.”

He lets out a small breath and your heart skips a beat. “I love you too.”

Mattheo presses another kiss to your lips, and you respond to it in delight. You both press against each other, perhaps in the hope that you’ll somehow be stuck together.

“Stay the night,” Mattheo says breathlessly, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

You would stay with Mattheo forever if you could. But you know that you’ll eventually have to leave so that your family wouldn’t worry. So, you’ll enjoy the secretive time you have with him for now, until he’s safe from the danger that confines him.

a/n: I don't think Tom would be thrilled at the news of having a child, and would view them as a sort of competition, and would end up killing them. So, that kind of inspired me to write this fic. The reader is going to end this war for her man lol🤪 divider creds: @saradika

HOUSE OF THE DRAGON SEASON TWO Episode 2

Batfam x reader incorrect quotes:

Damian: And I’d love to be sorry for that, but we all know I’ve done much, much worse.

Bruce, in a meeting: My policy is if you see something, say something. You: I saw a squirrel in a tree today! Bruce, with the tone of someone who is used to You: Outstanding. You: This is what I’m talking about people.

Tim: You're the love of my life and my best friend, I would do anything for you. You: I want you to eat three meals a day and have a decent sleep schedule. Tim: Absolutely not.

You: Do you have any skeletons in your closet? Damian: You mean literally or figuratively? You: Honestly, the fact that I have to specify...

Damian: God, give me patience. Tim: I think you mean 'give me strength'. Damian: If God gave me strength, you'd be dead.

You: I've already sent good vibes your way… they’re coming. There’s nothing you can do to stop them. Jason: This is the most threatening way I’ve ever been cheered up.

You: What if the 'g' in 'gif' is silent? Damian: Go the fuck to sleep You: What gif I don't want to? Damian: Fuck You

Bruce: I actually have a black belt. You: In what, karate? Bruce: No, from Gucci.

You: Date someone who will drag you outside at 3am to look at the stars. Damian: If anyone, and I mean anyone, wakes me up at 3am to go look at the damn sky they will be removed indefinitely from my life.

You: That’s one of my biggest fears. Like, if I ever woke up as a donut... Dick: You would eat yourself? You: I wouldn’t even question it.

Tim: Do you think you’d actually notice if someone didn’t cast a shadow? Or if their limbs were just slightly too long? Or if they had just a little too many teeth? like how many times have you passed Something on the street and you just didn’t Notice It? You: Stay woke monsterfuckers ur love is out there!!!!! Tim: Yknow what? Not my point at all in any way whatsoever, but I’m glad I could be an inspiration.

The Guest of Riddle Manor

Pairing: Tom Riddle x Fem!Reader

Warnings: smut, p in v, oral (fem receiving), nipple play, fem reader, past trauma, mentions of war, semi-public sex

Word count: 4.3k

Summary: Sent off to stay at Riddle Manor after your home was destroyed, you meet the enigmatic Tom Riddle.

Riddle Manor towered above you. It’s been a while since you’d seen a house so untorn from the consequences of war, and so, you couldn’t help but just stand there and take it in.

In your hand, you held a suitcase. Almost all of your belongings rested there. Your family's business had been going through a rather rough time, and so many of your dresses and other luxuries had been sold off to keep afloat. This saddened you greatly but it had to be done.

The reason for you being at Riddle Manor was because your neighborhood was one of the many victims of the bombings. It was horrible! For a great many days afterwards, you could not sleep without the fear of a repeat of the incident looming over you, and you would now also awaken at the smallest of sounds. Hearing of the violent news, Mr. Riddle so kindly sent out a letter to your family. In it, he had written of welcoming your family as guests at Riddle Manor.

Your family’s business had been doing rather well, and you had a small inkling that Mr. Riddle thought that by welcoming your family as guests to his home, your parents and Riddle’s already strong friendship would become even stronger, and that once your parents got over the current rough patch in their company’s sales, they might reward him handsomely.

You had arrived at Little Hangleton late in the evening, and the shadows of the setting sun made the building look almost haunting.

Walking towards the front door of Riddle Manor, a strange and sudden ache spread itself through your mind. You brought your free hand up to your head to massage your temples. The train ride to Little Hangleton must have taken an ever bigger toll on you than you had thought.

Just then, you had gotten the feeling that you were being observed. Almost as if your body had a separate mind to your own, you looked up. In one of the many windows, a pale face looked down at you. Your eyes locked with his before he quickly hid behind the curtains.

You thought it was rather strange but brushed it off.

You knocked on the front door, and after a few moments an old woman opened the door. Her hair was cut into a bob and it was of the colour grey. The woman’s wrinkled face wore a look of annoyance. She wore a maids uniform.

She gave you a look over before speaking, “Mr. Riddle has been expecting you, girl. I’ll take you to him.” She turned around and added: “Don’t bother with taking your shoes off.”

Stopping inside the foyer, you shut the door behind yourself, and rubbed your shoes on the carpet so as not to track in any dirt.

The maid led you to the drawing room, where a man who looked to be in his early forties sat. He was a rather attractive man, and though he was older, there was not one grey hair on his head. His skin was pale and a kind contrast against this dark hair and eyes.

Mr. Riddle got up from where he was seated. “Oh, how lovely it is to finally meet you!” He grabbed your hand with his own gloved one and gave it a quick shake.

“And it is nice to meet you, Mr. Riddle.” Your hand limply fell back to your side once Mr. Riddle let go of it.

He looked you up and down. Though you tried to look your best so you could make a good first impression, you could not help but feel embarrassment creep upon you under his intense gaze.

“As it happens, you’re right on time,” said Mr. Riddle. He gestured for the maid to take you luggage. She grabbed it and left to place it in what you presumed to be your bedroom. “My son – Tom – and I were just about to have dinner. You can eat and then go up to the room you will be staying in to unpack.”

“That sounds nice,” You agreed.

“Yes, it does. Now, follow me.” Mr. Riddle led you out of the drawing room and into the Manor’s halls. You tried not to gawk at the various paintings hung upon the vast walls, but it was rather difficult not to. In each one was a handsome, pale skinned man or woman, with dark hair and eyes to match. They were similar to that of Mr. Riddle, so you thought they must have been his ancestors.

Once you reached the dining room, your gaze landed on a boy around your age. He sat with perfect posture, with a small, leatherbound book in one of his hands that he must have been reading before you and Mr. Riddle barged in. He placed the book down on the table.

Mr. Riddle pulled out a chair for you, and you sat down. Your seat was across from his son’s. Mr. Riddle sat at the head of the table.

“My name is Tom. What might yours be?” the boy – whose name you just discovered – asked.

You told him your name.

The food arrived, and though you tried not to stare at Tom over the course of the meal, you couldn’t help but notice his beauty. He looked very similar to his father, and the fact that they were kin was undeniable. If Mr. Riddle were any younger they could have passed for twins.

“I do hope you will like it here,” said Mr. Riddle after swallowing a forkful of vegetables.

“I’m sure I will.”

Dinner was tense, to say the least. Tom and Mr. Riddle didn’t speak much to each other, which you had found strange because they were father and son.

After you were done eating, Mr Riddle excused you. The maid from before led you to the room you would be staying in.

Before leaving you to settle in, she gifted you with a warning: “It’s best not to leave your room at night. Who knows what one can be up to at the wee hours of the night.”

The warning left you confused, but you didn’t linger on it for too long. You chalked it up to the maid not wanting to have any additional messes she would have to clean up in the morning.

You spent the next little while unpacking your suitcase. You hung your clothing in the mahogany wardrobe, and placed the several books and stationary you brought with you on the desk.

Afterwards, you took a warm bath, changed into a baby pink nightgown, and tried to go to sleep.

Though you were quite exhausted by the day's happenings, you didn’t fall asleep as quickly as you wished to. The fear of waking up to a crushed house overcame you, and you had to pace around the room for what could have been hours just to come yourself down. You were safe now… is what you kept telling yourself. Eventually, you tired yourself down enough so that you could fall asleep.

The knocking of the door was what awoke you the next morning. An agitated groan passed through your lips; You had just finally fallen asleep! You now didn’t wish to get out of bed.

“I don’t mean to be a burden, but I must insist you open the door, Miss.”

Your eyes cracked open in horror. It was Mr. Riddle’s son!

You cleared your throat before replying: “One moment!” You grabbed a robe from your wardrobe and threw it on.

Opening the door, you were faced with Tom. Though it was early in the morning, Tom was impeccably dressed. He wore a crisp, grey suit with a white button down shirt along with a dark green tie. His dark hair was styled with gel to hold it in place, similarly to how his father wore it the day before. If one saw you next to him, they must have thought you to be the toad and him the prince.

“Is there something I could help you with?”

“Perhaps.” A soft sigh passed through his lips. "I am to show you around Riddle Manor so that you know your way around.” 

“So early in the morning?” You couldn’t help but question him on his choice of timing. You heard no birds chirping to pull you out of the hypnotism dreams put one under, and no sun agitated your eyes into opening.

“It’s best to get certain things finished as soon as possible rather than wait around.” His tone left no room for argument, and so the desire to have an extra bit of sleep was diminished.

“Am I allowed to get ready for the day, or would you rather not be kept waiting?” you couldn’t help but tease the boy. You never spoke much to boys, but the ones from your past neighborhood that had you grown up with never acted so refined.

Tom pressed his lips into a thin line. “I’ll wait.”

Casting one final glance at Tom, you shut the door.

Quickly, you brushed your teeth, and put on a fine, navy blue dress. You handled your hair with not as much care as you usually would, but you were in a rush.

After you were done with focusing on your beauty, you re–opened the door.

“I’m ready.”

Tom inhaled through his nose. “This will be quick.”

You followed behind Tom as he led you around the manor.

“You won’t be needing to go through many of these doors. I presume you already know where both the drawing room and the dining room are… I am not sure why my father put me up to this, as you shouldn’t be leaving the room much unless it was to eat.”

Your eyes widened at this. “Excuse me?”

Tom down at you blankly. “Where else would you go?”

You shrugged your shoulders. You hadn’t expected him to say such a thing.

“Well, we do have a library, if that interests you,” said Tom.

You nodded in delight. “I love to read.”

“Good.”

You followed Tom as he led you to the library. Once entering there, you couldn’t help but be amazed. At Least you wouldn’t have to read the several books you brought along with you repeatedly over the course of your stay.

“What kind of books does your family own?” You ran your fingers down a shelf of books as you walked down one of the aisles, looking for something that peaked your interest.

“I’m not quite sure. None of the books here have held my interest since I was a young boy,” Tom answered honestly.

You stopped at that, and looked over at him. Yet again, you were reminded of his beauty. He looked like the kind of man one would watch in the pictures. He matched the aesthetic of an academic quite well, as he looked to be quite an elegant man; One who would spend his free time studying the pages of the books held in this vast room.

“But I saw you reading yesterday at dinner,” the words slipped through your mouth with no reason other than wishing to continue the conversation. You resumed exploring the shelves, with Tom following behind you like a mother hen who didn’t wish for her chick to wander off and get lost.

“Yes,” Tom’s melodic voice was closer behind you than you had expected it to be, “I was.” After a pause, he resumed: “It’s a book related to my school studies.”

You frown, and stop walking, turning around to face him “But it’s summer! It is the time given for one to relax.”

“I find myself quite entranced by my university studies,” he replied simply.

“I suppose that is a good thing.” You were happy with Tom’s answer, and so let him be.

Soon, you and Tom made your way to the dining room to have breakfast.

There was not much talk during the meal, besides Mr. Riddle asked Tom if he’d given me a tour of the manor, to which he replied with a simple: “Yes, I have. She’s taken an interest in the library.”

“Well,” Mr. Riddle started, after swallowing a strawberry, “That is good to hear… Now, I will be departing tonight. I have a business trip I must go on. I’ll only be gone for a little over a week, so not too long. I trust you two will behave yourself?” Mr. Riddle gave Tom and you a pointed look.

“Yes, Father,” answered Tom.

“Of course, Sir.”

“Good, good.” Mr. Riddle looked over at you. “I truly hadn’t expected to leave so early on into your visit, I do hope you don’t think I’m trying to escape my duties as a host?”

You couldn’t help but crack a smile at that. “Of course not.”

Mr. Riddle left in the middle of the night, while you slept.

The next day was a bore. You ate breakfast, and Tom didn’t seem keen on making any conversation.

You spent the rest of the waking hours catching up on lost sleep, and when night fell, you still found that you were exhausted, but were unable to sleep. Having missed dinner, you were also hungry.

Laying in bed for a few moments, you listened to the heavy rain patter against the windows. You may have found it calming, if it didn’t remind you of that night… It had been raining quite a bit the day your house was destroyed, and so memories of that time spread across your mind, like a river that never ended.

Rain, crying, smoke… It was all too much for you.

You got out of bed and decided to grab a book from the library to entertain yourself and a snack from the kitchen.

Barefoot, you snuck out of your room, and made your way to the library. Thunder could be heard through the thick walls, making a chill go down your spine. You entered the library and explored the shelfs. Some of the books were about business; Nothing that held much of your interest. Soon enough, you found the shelves for fiction. There, you snatched up a hardback copy of Frankenstein. You had heard a bit about it, and tonight was the night you would finally allow yourself to be consumed by the piece of literature.

The next part of your plan was to get a snack from the kitchen to eat while you read in bed. Oh… how you couldn’t wait to do so. Tonight would be as calm a night as you could make it.

You tiptoed down the hall when you suddenly bumped into Tom. A scream of surprise tore through your throat and you dropped your book onto the ground. You clutched your clothed chest as you took in a few breaths of air to calm yourself.

“You scared me, Tom!”

“As I can see…” Tom crouched down and picked up your book, before standing up and holding it out for you. You stared down at his pale hand for a moment – noting its beauty just like the rest of him – before grabbing the novel.

“Thank you.” You held the book to your chest.

“You shouldn’t be up so late,” his voice was crisp, and reminded you of that of a teacher’s.

“But you are up, or am I speaking with a ghost who imitates others?” You quirked a brow.

Tom looked you up and down. His adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed before his dark eyes looked back into yours. You were suddenly aware that you were just in your nightgown.

He held his hands behind his back. “And I suppose you’re going back to bed?”

You shake your head. “No… I was hoping to grab a snack from the kitchen.”

Tom’s shoulders sagged, if only just a little bit. “I’ll join you.”

Tom took the lead, and you both made your way to the kitchen. First, you grabbed a glass and filled it with some water; Your little adventure left you dehydrated. Then, you rummaged through the cabinets, until you found a jar of cookies. You placed a few in a bowl.

“Would you like some tea with them?” Tom asked. He’s been watching you the entire time. “It would help you fall asleep.”

Before you could answer, Tom rolled up his sleeves – he wasn’t even dressed for bed yet – and turned on the stove. As you both waited for the kettle to heat the water, you cracked open your book, leaned your front against the counter, and began reading: “You will rejoice to hear that no disaster has accompanied the commencement of an enterprise which you have regarded with such evil forebodings…”

Tom’s warm presence was felt behind you. Perhaps he too wished to entertain himself while the water heated. He was so close to you that you could feel the rise and fall of his chest. In all honesty, you did not despise his closeness. You would actually like it if you and Tom were to become close…

Soon, the tea was ready, and Tom and you sat in one of the living rooms. The book lay between you both to read. The rain beat against the wall and the fire crackled. Tom and you were so close that your breaths almost became one. You could smell the tea on his lips.

Soon, you had dozed off and no nightmares haunted you that night.

You never did find out why Tom was roaming around the halls of Riddle Manor so late at night…

You awoke in bed the next day with no memory of how you had gotten there. Your book laid upon the nightstand, with a dark feather stuck between the pages you and Tom had last left off on.

“I would like to show you something,” Tom’s voice broke you out of your trance. You had spent the entire day reading Frankenstein, and finished it just moments before, and now you could not keep your mind off of it.

“Hm?” You blinked. “Show me what?”

“The gardens in the backyard. They’re beautiful when the night falls.” Tom looked at you, expecting your acceptance.

You gave it to him. “I would like that.”

“It’s a nice reading spot as well. You could bring your book there to read.”

A smile graced your lips. “So, we could read? Oh, but I’ve already finished the book, Tom! But I suppose I could grab a new novel from the library.”

A small smile made its way to Tom’s face, almost like you were doing everything he had ever wanted from a person. He spooned a bit of soup and brought it to his lips.

Dinner passed, and you made your way to the library. Your eyes the books on the shelves until a short novel grasped your attention. It was named “Carmilla.” It was a short book; A piece of writing one could begin and finish reading in a night.

You then went up to your room and shrugged on your coat. Though it was summer, the nights recently were cold. While waiting for Tom to collect you, you wrote a letter to your parents, informing them of how your stay at Riddle Manor has been so far.

Just as you finished writing, there was a knock at your door. You placed your feathered pen into the pot of ink and answered the door.

There, Tom stood. “Are you reading to come with me?”

“One moment.” You went back to your desk, grabbed your book and shoved it into your coat pocket. You made your way back to Tom. “Now? Yes, I am.”

You and Tom made your way to the backdoor. The pair of you slipped outside, revealing yourselves for the moon and stars to gaze upon. Unfortunately, their light would not be enough to aid in reading the words of Carmilla.

“We need a light.”

Tom grabbed a strange stick from out of his pocket, and muttered a word you had never before heard under his breath: “Lumos.” The strange stick produced a light.

A small gasp passed through your lips at the trick, and you couldn’t help but clap your hands together. “Wow. I’ve never seen anything like that before. It’s almost like magic.”

A peculiar expression masked Tom’s usual face. A strange feeling spread through your stomach, but you decided to ignore it. It must have been the night's cold that was making you feel strange.

“Come. Follow me.” With that, Tom turned around, and walked towards the labyrinth of bushes. Tom clearly seemed to know which way he was going, and so your anxiousness faded away, until you could not even remember that you had felt such a thing in Tom’s presence.

You must have reached what you assumed to be the centre of the Maze. There, a beautiful fountain was placed in the middle. You made your way over to it, staring down at the water.

Tom’s reflection in the water showed that he stood right next to you. Strangely enough, his reflection had crimson coloured eyes… You quickly glanced at Tom’s face, but no, his eyes were as dark as ever. Perhaps, you were mistaken. Maybe, your eyes hadn’t adjusted to the dark properly… Yes, it must have been because of the dark.

You sat down at the edge of the fountain, and Tom joined you. You both listened to the sound of the water for a little while. You could hear the hoot of an owl, and the croaks of frogs, hidden in the bushes. The sound of crickets calmed you.

Tom’s voice broke the silence. “You’re a very beautiful woman.”

Your cheeks warmed at his words.

“Thank you.”

Suddenly, you felt his warm breath softly hit your cheek. Tom traced your jaw with that strange stick of his. He seemed to be contemplating something, as if his brain was warring with multiple ideas of what to do with you.

Tom leaned down and pressed his lips to yours, and you let him. You shut your eyes. His lips molded against your own, and a note of pleasure passed through you, making you press closer to him.

Tom wrapped one of his hands around your waist, pulling you closer, while the other pressed against your jaw, positioning you so that you faced him. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, but you soon very quickly parted on account of needing air.

Tom helped you out of your jacket. He grabbed your hand and kissed up your shoulder until he made it up to the area your shoulder and neck connected. There, he sucked on the flesh. A pleasure you had never in your life before felt coursed through you. A moan passed through your lips.

Once Tom was satisfied, he made his way down to your collarbone, where he left a trail of kisses. He unlaced your dress and a small gasp passed through you as you finally became aware of the night's cold touch. But Tom’s touch was warmer.

You wore no bra and so Tom gently grasped your hardened nub between two fingers and tugged on it. A gasp passed through your lips. No one but yourself had ever touched you in such a way, and it felt so different from one’s own hands.

Tom kissed at your neck as he rubbed his fingers rubbed at your nub, causing your back to arch. Tom was all too aware of how your legs spread as pleasure coursed through you.

Tom dropped onto his knees on the grass and pushed up your skirt. Oh… You had read about such things in the romance books you had hidden under your bed at your past home.

Tom tugged your underwear off and slipped it into his pants pocket so it would not get dirty.

Legs spread for him, Tom settled his head between our thighs. His tongue experimentally poked at your genitals, and quickly found your clit. Tom ravished you like a man starved. One of your hands gripped his shoulder while the other held onto the edge of the fountain as he gifted you with a pleasure that was all too familiar yet foreign at the same time.

Just as you were nearing your end, Tom stole away your satisfaction. He pulled his head away from your vagina, and littered your thighs with kisses, so as to tell you: ‘Good. Now, keep being good for me.’

Tom stood, and helped you up. Your legs shook with what could have been, as Tom pressed you against one of the labyrinth walls.

“Tom… Oh, Tom…” You called out for him, your body’s need for him taking over all your other senses.

Tom pressed a kiss to your lips, silencing you in what you found to be the most kindest of ways.

Finally, Tom pressed his sex against yours. Your head fell back, your mouth open in a soundless gasp. Tom wrapped one of his arms around your hip, while his other hand pressed against the wall behind you.

Once he was fully sheathed in you, he paused. His lips pressed against your neck, his warm breath hit your neck, a contrast to the cold night, causing you to shiver.

The movement caused a small hiss to escape between Tom’s teeth.

“Please, move,” You begged, and so Tom did.

He pulled his cock out before pressing back into you again. You both moaned at the same time, pleasure overtaking you both.

The pair of you pushed your hips against the others, trying to maximize the amount of pleasure the other could feel. Skin slapped against skin, moans freed themselves from the throat, and sweat dripped down flesh.

As your bodies neared the end of being one, Tom brough one of his lithe hands down to rub at your clit. You tensed as you finally finished, before relaxing altogether. Tom was right behind you nearing the end of his pleasure, and once he finally did, he embraced you warmly.

The only reason you hadn’t fallen yet was because of Tom’s hold on you. Tom shyly nosed at your neck. For a moment, you were surrounded only by Tom. His body and scent consumed you whole, and you never wanted it to be any different.

a/n: Please leave a comment if you enjoyed, as they are motivating! :) divider creds: @saradika

Tom Riddle Masterlist

Representative Rashida Tlaib (the only Palestinian member of the US Congress) holds up a sign saying "WAR CRIMINAL" and "GUILTY OF GENOCIDE" as Benjamin Netanyahu addresses Congress.

How They Mark You

Pairings: Aegon ii Targaryen, Daemon Targaryen, Rhaenyra Targaryen, Aemond Targaryen

Warnings: nsfw, bruises, female reader, mentions of pregnancy

Aegon ii Targaryen:

Aegon leaves marks on your skin. Usually hickies, but sometimes he’ll lightly bite your skin or leave marks that resemble fingers.

Aegon makes it obvious that you’re his.

He is openly affectionate with you in public. And there have been multiple occasions where a servant has walked in on you two being in certain erotic positions.

And though Aegon doesn’t purposefully do this, he usually leaves your clothes ruffled after dragging you away throughout the day to make out with you or more.

Daemon Targaryen:

Daemon gifts you jewelry. He’s given you necklaces, rings, bracelets. He loves to see you wear them.

At times, he’ll reach out to grab them so he can fidget with them.

Loves to leave hickies on you. Especially in places you can’t hide.

Daemon smirks when he hears you complain about how long it’ll take you to cover the marks he left on you.

Rhaenyra Targaryen:

Rhaenyra is more subtle about how she marks you since you’re both women.

Wherever you both go, she makes sure that your arms are interlocked with each other.

Or her hand on your back, gently guiding you to wherever she wants you to go.

Rhaenyra, like Daemon, will buy you jewelry —usually necklaces — to mark you.

Rhaenyra loves to leave hickies on you, though she does so on places that are easier to hide.

Aemond Targaryen:

The way Aemond marks you isn’t in a way that anyone else but you both would know.

Aemond buys dresses for you.

From Dorne, Essos, anywhere you’d like.

Your wardrobe is full of them.

He loves to see the clothing he’s bought cover your body in a way he can’t.

When you’re pregnant, he’s quick to buy you more clothes to fit you.

I also block people if they're rude! You're based/gen

-tendergraphite

Thank you! I literally just don't want any drama on my account

I don't care if he's not Benjicot Blackwood, Kieran Burton is the perfect fancast. GIVE ME THE FANFICS! 🤡😭