Tom hums in acknowledgment, nodding against her shoulder, he tugs her into his lap as he sits on the bed beside her-how’d he even get in her room? she thinks for a moment before she’s completely in his grip, closing her eyes as he kisses at her neck and jaw.

“Do I have a choice?” she asks, and he bites her earlobe.

“No.”

-July 1998-

(y/n) walked up to the grand manor that belonged to the minister of magic, hand in hand with Tom Riddle, or well-the version of him born from a diary just to be with her. She stopped up the stone pathway towards the manor, shaking. Tom moved to stand in front of her, cupping her cheek with his free hand, speaking softly.

“There's nothing to be afraid of darling, it’s just me, just us.” He murmured, brushing his thumb across her bottom lip, dipping down to kiss her for a moment and then he tugs her hand once-twice-then she moves, feeling like she was walking into an open bear trap.

Her breath feels caught in her lungs as Tom opens the grand door, pulling her inside. Its-nice-not as oppressive as one would envision but still, (y/n)’s scared, unconsciously moving closer to Tom as he guides her through the manor, the manor he and his ‘family’ lived in.

He guides her up the stairs in the main foyer, down one of the many corridors, and into a large sitting room-where the two older men were sitting. Voldemort, as he was called once more-the core Tom, the Tom she’d known-and his ‘son’, a horcrux, born to only give reason for the Tom holding her hand to be with her without anyone looking oddly at them.

The two older men look up and the oldest, Voldemort, the one she knew, is up on his feet in seconds, his gleaming scarlet-brown eyes locked onto her. He’s older, late 60’s, black wavy hair streaked with silver and far from the pale bald snake man she’d been terrified of in the original timeline.

He’s handsome, face lined with age and many other things she can't say or name right now.

She feels nailed to the spot as Voldemort, Tom, comes close to her. The one who had come with her to the manor steps away-allowing the core version of the three of them to stand before her. Voldemort stares down at her-he’s taller than she last saw him, probably the same height as the dark lord version of him. She looks up at him, shaking, her hands clutched at her side.

“No, do not be afraid,” Voldemort, Tom, coos, his hands cupping her face and brushing his thumbs over the curve of her cheeks. The fear in her eyes is familiar-the same fear he saw when he discovered she knew of his plans-who he planned to be. He hates it. “I may share the name of the dark lord from your time, but I only share the name-there are no death eaters, there is no war, no dark lord. Just, us.” Voldemort said with a slow smirk, and his ‘son’, also Tom, stands, making his way over to (y/n) and Voldemort.

“There's nothing to be afraid of anymore darling,” Tom, in his late 30s it seems, maybe early 40s, hums as he draws close, his hand fitting in the small of (y/n)’s back, drawing her close. Voldemort glares for only a moment, his hands still on (y/n)’s face. “the memories of what you experienced, everything that happened to you, will eventually fade.”

(y/n) knows he means to say that as a comfort, but it’s horrifying, she was eventually going to forget it all; forget the dark lords horrifying acts, forget what happened in her original time-even forget how and why she was standing before the three Tom’s at this very moment. Eventually her fear would fade because-why would she fear the minister for magic? Why would she fear his son, or grandson-why would she fear her boyfriend’s family?

She swallows harshly and Voldemort leans down to kiss her forehead, an achingly familiar gesture from the time she spent with him in the 40s. “come, let us make you comfortable my dear,” Voldemort murmurs, he and Tom, the older one, take her hands and pull her to sit on the couch-Voldemort sits in the love seat as the youngest Tom, the one her age-made from the diary-sits next to her-while older Tom sits on the other love seat beside the couch.

“You’re not…mad at me?” she finally asks, having also feared his-their reaction, when she left, he had been angry, heartbroken really. Voldemort only smirks as Tom, the older one, chuckles.

“I was, at first,” he says, stirring milk into his tea. “but age allows for one to look back and review, eventually; i understood why you left, why you were scared.” At this, older Tom stood up, sitting on (y/n)’s other side, cupping her face again, bringing her so close she could feel his breath on her face-smell his cologne and the tea he’d been drinking.

“But now you don’t have to be, there is no war, no dark lord. Just, us.” He murmurs, moving closer to her and before he can get way too close she flinches back, falling towards Tom-the one that’s her age. He wraps his arms around her, cooing softly as she shakes.

“It’s all right my love,” Tom chuckles, kissing her temple as he pulls her into his lap, his arm completely wrapping around her waist to keep her close-jealously clear in Voldemort’s and older Tom’s eyes. Older Tom’s hand wraps around her ankle, her feet in his lap now.

(y/n) doesn’t know what to think, or do. She’s trapped, trapped in a manor with three versions of Tom, one her age-that has her in his grip, the second old enough to be her father, who holds her legs in his lap, and the third staring at her, his gleaming scarlet brown eyes staring at her from the love seat, his fingers steepled under his chin.

She stills as older Tom’s thumb traces her fading scar from her uncle, her eyes snapping shut as his thumb goes over her eye. “It’s fading, good.” He murmurs and Tom-the one holding her-squeezes her tighter, burying his face in her neck and breathing deep.

“Wh-why?” (y/n) asks, swallowing harshly as she hears Voldemort speak. “Why stop your uncle from ever touching you? Why not? Why allow such a disgusting excuse of a pureblood to harm such precious life? Why allow him to even think about taking your mother for his own, or think about you in such a disgusting way.” Voldemort sneers, disgust clear in his voice. (y/n) feels chills down her spine and up to her heart. She never knew her uncle…thought about such things.

She had been told by a family friend, who really shouldn’t have told her at 12, that her uncle had attempted to blackmail her mother to marry him to make her pureblood again. Gross, but incest was quite…normal in pureblood families. At least back then.

To think her uncle possibly…when she was so young…it was horrifying and she shook, hands covering her mouth as she stared off at nothing. Voldemort stands and joins his younger horcrux selves on the couch, cupping her face in his hands. “it is all right dear,” he coos, kissing her head. “he’s gone now. He never hurt you, and soon this conversation will fade too.”

(y/n) jolts at the very thought-how much was she going to forget? Would everything she was experiencing now fade? Turn her into something, someone, she was not? “I don’t want to forget-I don’t want to-“ she babbled and Voldemort shushed her again, wiping her tears with his thumb.

“shhh shh my love, it’ll be okay, some day this will all be a forgotten dream, you’re core self will not change, only memories will.” He said in a soft tone, then he scoops her up from Tom’s lap. She lets out a choked yelp her arms automatically wrapping around Voldemort’s neck as he carries her through the halls of the manor, the younger Tom’s following very close behind.

Voldemort enters a well-lit room, the curtains open to let sunlight in, it’s aesthetically different from the rest of the manor, lighter blues and whites, golds and bronzes with a large rug spanning the floor and a very large bed with a white-grey canopy and a chaise lounge at the end with a throw blanket tossed over it.

Voldemort lays her on the bed, older Tom takes off her shoes and the youngest-the Tom her age, kneels on the lounge at the end of the large bed, resting his elbows on the end of the bed, staring at her. “Rest for now, allow yourself to come to terms with your new reality,” Voldemort hummed, brushing her hair back-her fading scar visible.

He kisses her forehead, older Tom kisses her cheek, and Tom crawls up to kiss her fully, kissing her quickly once more before all three leave the room.

She waits for a few minutes, breathing quickly before she throws off the heavy, comfortable, quilt and rushing to the large window-but it’s charmed shut and she’s still underage-and if she tried to uncharm it-it would no doubt alert Voldemort. The door is locked as well-the bathroom window as well-but that was too small for her to fit in.

She feels lost-trapped-she sobs and crawls back onto the bed-the room was clearly meant for her. It’s not his style, it’s blue like her Hogwarts house and full of comfortable items that only she would’ve picked out.

And what sucks no one knows she’s trapped.

According to everyone else, which was once true, she was here willingly. Happily. Because this timelines version of her had spent the last four summers in this manor, which is this room has her clothes, her favorite shampoos, her preferred toothpaste.

She curls up on the bed, feeling lost.

-

She leaves the room later-the door unlocks for her, it must’ve been charmed to not let her escape-but allows her to leave when she doesn’t plan to escape. She goes down the hall, shoes left in “her” room. She explores. Theres a massive library, the garden is huge too, she finds several lounges and the other bedrooms, all three rooms open a tad-as if inviting her inside but she doesn’t.

She roams more, finding a sunroom, where a large snake was resting in the summer sun-she does not bother this snake.

She also finds a dining room, an actual ballroom,  a music room, there's an astronomy tower, of course; a kitchen, and then a very fancy bathroom meant for guests.

Finally, she comes upon a study that’s near the astronomy tower. Voldemort’s there-the door opened just enough for her to see him and she attempts to go by but the door opens completely, his eyes on her. “do not be afraid love,” he coos, gesturing her inside.

She glances down the hallway, and steps into the study, standing in the doorway for a long minute. Voldemort smiles softly, setting down a ministry-stamped stack of papers, turning his chair-summoning her towards him. Her feet feel like they move on her own and then she’s in front of him.

She stares at him as he takes her hands, rubbing his thumb across her knuckles. Her vision flickers in her mind, Tom-the one she knew in the 40’s, appears before her for a split second-that stupid handsome smile on his face. Voldemort flickers back into her vision and she pulls her hands out of his, holding them to her chest.

His brows furrow, he looks hurt.

He makes himself seem, smaller, curling his shoulders in as he leans towards her, looking up at her. “I’m sorry I scared you,” he whispers, his hands now on her hips-one drawing down to her thigh. Her brows furrow. “the day you left, I scared you; again. That wasn’t my…goal.” He swallows, drawing his eyes down, then closing them-leaning forward to press his forehead against her stomach. “I, did, mean what I said. You’re mine.” He whispers, (y/n) tenses, and then she’s pulled into Voldemort’s lap and his lips smash into hers-her eyes snap shut.

Disgust should be what she feels. It isn’t.

She hesitates yes, but she doesn’t feel like she should smack him and run-no, she…lets him tug her closer, his lips move against hers, tongue on her bottom lip-its reminiscent of their first kiss, in the restricted section-Voldemort-Tom-tastes cold and feels warm, she smells sharp cologne-a scent that hadn’t changed in the 50 years it had been since he’d last seen her.

Her hands shake as she lifts them up-and then rests them on Voldemort’s shoulders, he hums-pleased, and tugs her closer to him, his arms wrapping around her completely; pulling her even closer, her body completely snug against his as their lips move together.

“My love,” he purrs as he pulls away, lips already red-peppering kisses down her jaw-she lets out a soft sound, tilting her head back-it’s an automatic thing, something she now did out of reflex when he kissed her like this. “never be afraid of me again, please, I, none of us, would ever hurt you.” he whispered against the hollow of her throat.

She knows he isn’t lying.

She swallows harshly, clinging tight to his shoulders, creasing the fabric of his ironed button-up. “Swear it?” she whispers, looking down at him and he smiles, resting his chin on her chest, looking up at her.

“I’d make the unbreakable vow,” he whispers and she bites her lip, she’s unsure still-she’s still nervous and scared. He leans up and kisses her gently, his hands moving up-pressing against the small of her back-the other between her shoulders.

She kisses back.

It feels, very odd, deep down. Yes, this is the Tom she knew when she time-traveled into the 40s, the one she dated, the one she discovered was the young Voldemort. But now he’s in his 60’s, still handsome, but old enough to be her grandfather.

He deepens the kiss and all thoughts go out the window, especially with the way his hips roll up against her, the fabric of his trousers catching against the fabric of her underwear-she’d worn a skirt for once. She gasps into the kiss and his tongue invades her mouth-somehow he’s even better at kissing then he was “50” years ago.

She’s lifted up and put on the desk, a flick of his hand make papers and other desk objects fly off and go into their proper places when not being used. She gasps again as he leans over her, pressing her down against the desk, standing between her legs, rolling his hips against her again.

She shudders, gasping for breath as he kisses and nips at her jaw and neck, his hands drawing up to the top button of her shirt-starting to undo it but stops, breathing deep. “Not yet.” He murmurs, looking down at her with dark lustful eyes, taking in her disheveled state. “not yet.” He murmurs again, kissing her forehead and sitting her up, helping her off the desk.

She furrows her brows, panting and then shuddering as he kisses her gently, easing her down from her ruffled state. “What?” she asks, confused. He chuckles lowly, smirking. “you’re underage darling, and while I’m confident no one but, well, me, would catch me fucking you,” she shudders at the way he says it, his smirk widens. “I want you to be fully ready for it, I want you to be completely sure of it, and legal.” He adds, almost as an afterthought. He kisses her cheek and sends her off with a gentle pat on her butt. “Go, the one your age should be in his room.”

(y/n)’s face flushes and she leaves the study, going back down the hall towards the bedrooms, looking through the open doors till she finds Tom, sitting on his bed with his back towards the door, a book in his lap. He’s dressed casually, wearing plain green sweater with the sleeves rolled up, a white button up beneath it, and black trousers; his hair free of gel or any sort of hair products, so it’s loose and wavy, his bangs falling into his eyes so he keeps brushing them out of his face, huffing each time.

(y/n) stepped into his room, the door creaking. He perked up and turned, smirking at her, patting his bed to invite her closer. “Good evening love,” Tom purred, his smirk widening as she comes closer, willingly. “How are you feeling?” he asks, genuinely, but he needed to know if she had calmed down, accepted her new reality.

(y/n) bit her lip, her brows furrowing a bit before sitting next to him. Tom wraps his arm around her, book discarded as he pulls her closer, resting his chin on her shoulder. “i…” she swallowed harshly, biting her inner lip before sighing, rubbing her face. “I don’t know, it’s all so confusing.” She admits and Tom hums, pulling her into his lap and she lets him, turning to hide away in his arms.

She lets herself believe for a moment, that she’s back in the 40s with him, before she found out about who he truly was, that they’re alone in the common room, wrapped up in each others arms, enjoying the fire.

For a moment, she lets go of her fear and anxiety.

-

(y/n) thinks quite a lot through the next two weeks she stays at the manor, about her morals, her beliefs, the past, the present, how things changed, what didn’t change.

Finally, she comes to terms with it all.

There was no Voldemort. Not the dark lord anyway, yes he still killed people to create his horcruxes, but with the…strange promise that he hadn’t killed any…innocents to create the Diary and Ring that made up the two Tom’s.

There was no war, no death eaters, no insane blood purity politics. There was no boy who lived-only Harry Potter, a normal boy with no lightning scar with loving parents.

Things were okay, changed yes, but okay. She…did not need to feel guilty about it all, she didn’t need to fear him, them, at all. She had told him that she could not love ‘him’, Voldemort the dark lord. So he wasn’t one, he was Voldemort the minister for magic, with two “son’s”, Thomas, and Tom.

She could…relax, accept it, he’d changed, for her. He was intense, possessive of her, obsessive even, all three of them were but…they loved her.

She walked into the sitting room where all three of them were, Tom looks up at her right away, attention instantly off the book he’d been reading, Thomas and Voldemort look at her next, wondering what she needed.

She walks further into the room, sits right next to Tom, and curls into him. He smiles and wraps his arms around her, holding her close-Voldemort and Thomas watch, jealous but curious-she’d yet to do something like this-to purposefully seek them out.

“I’m okay with this,” she admits quietly and she feels Tom smile against her cheek, the others lean closer-hoping she meant what they thought she meant. “with…all this, you three, me, us.” (y/n) says, stumbling through her words slightly and Thomas takes her from Tom’s side-Tom complains audibly but Thomas already has (y/n) in his lap, kissing her cheek.

“Are you sure love?” Voldemort asks, kneeling in front of her, taking her hands gently. (y/n) nods, her cheeks flushed. “I wasn’t for a while, but…I am now. Theres no war, no dark lord, and…you stopped my uncle from hurting me, stopped him from hurting my parents i…I suppose I can't argue that it’s all wrong, when-even if its selfish-you guys did the…right thing,” she admits and Voldemort leans up to kiss her gently, she kisses back, Thomas making a sound from behind her-he hadn’t gotten to kiss her at all yet.

That night, she goes to bed with Tom holding her, his arms tight around her as his face presses against the back of her neck, breathing softly against her skin. For the first night since getting back to the present, she sleeps soundly.

-

Her birthday comes up right before summer break ends, her parents are there at the manor for her birthday party hosted by the Riddle family-she learns this is an annual thing, ever since ‘she’ and Tom had started dating and gotten serious.

Deep down she does find it a bit odd her parents are so, okay with her just-spending a whole summer at this manor filled with men-one of which being her official boyfriend, but she figures Voldemort probably did some manipulation and while she feels uncomfortable with the idea, she knows she cant do anything about it.

She gets presents, like a well-tailored suit just for her-since she wasn’t much of a dress girl- from her parents, a necklace from Tom, a book from Thomas, and earrings from Voldemort. Her parents are non-the wiser to anything going on beyond what is shown to them, so when they leave the manor-without (y/n), she’s drawn into Voldemort’s bedroom by all three Tom’s.

“Come here darling, I think its time we show you just how much you’re adored.” Voldemort purred, sitting on the bed on his knees, and she swallows harshly, climbing onto the bed as Thomas and Tom climb on with her-watching her with sharp eyes filled with desire, all for her. “just thinking of it as a birthday present, from all three of us,” Thomas purrs from her left.

She’s sure she’s blushing heavily, closing her eyes as Voldemort’s hands cradle her face gently, lips beginning to trail from up her neck to her jaw, and then to her lips. His lips press against hers and she kisses back-letting out a small yelp as she’s tugged to lay down on the bed, all three hovering over her-Tom’s hands are on her legs, Thomas holds her waist, and Voldemort’s hands are still on her face-still kissing her.

Tom takes her shoes off while Thomas undid her pants and shirt, Voldemort’s hands thread through her hair and then he takes off her bra, smirking against her cheek as Thomas begins to fondle her breasts-making her gasp-and then he softly kisses her breast, then her nipple-taking the hardening bud into his mouth and swirling his tongue around it, his other hand fondling her breast.

Her hips lift as Tom slots himself between her legs, leaving soft kisses on her thighs, his fingers dipping beneath the fabric of her panties, slowly pulling them down to reveal her cunt. “beautiful,” he groaned, his eyes fluttering as he leaned in, kissing her clit and then circling his tongue around it-smirking at the way her hips jumped in response.

Tom spreads her thighs wider, burying his face in her cunt and lapping at her while Voldemort nipped at her jaw, leaving marks all along her neck and jaw before kissing her again, his hands in her hair.

(y/n) could hardly handle it all, gasping and moaning as the three lavished her with sensual attention, her breath catching as Tom sucked at her clit, his fingers pushing inside her to prepare her and bring her closer to orgasm. “shit-“ she gasped aloud when Voldemort sucked on her pulse point. “that’s it love-give it to us,” Voldemort purred in her ear and she let out a long whining cry, feeling it crash over her in an electric wave-her hips bucking down against Tom’s mouth as he helps her through it.

Soon she was twisted around, legs hooked around Voldemort’s-the other two complain-they wanted to be her first but Voldemort quiets them. “silence. I’ve waited much longer for this than either of you,” he hisses, in parseltongue so (y/n) didn’t understand anything but watched as Tom and Thomas sink back, huffing as they crowd around her upper body, Tom holds her hand as Thomas caresses her collarbone with his fingers, trailing up to her face to gently trace her fingers.

She looks up-Voldemort leans close, kissing her softly as his cock presses to her virgin entrance, and then he’s pushing inside-she can feel every inch-making her gasp into his mouth as he slowly rocks inside her till he’s completely inside.

It’s not painful, just new and vaguely uncomfortable, but he stills when completely inside, kissing her cheeks to ease her tension as Tom kisses her knuckles, Thomas rubs her thigh, moving his hand to rub her clit slowly to ease her further. “any pain?” Voldemort asks her, massaging her hips as she shifts, letting out a small quick breath as she shakes her head.

“You-you can move,” she murmured, gasping as Voldemort pulled out slowly, and then slowly pushed back inside, doing that slow rhythm over and over again-watching as she gasped and moaned softly, clutching Tom’s hand as he kissed her forehead, his other hand holding her waist as Thomas watched, one hand on her thigh as his other hand strokes himself, the three watching her enjoy the pleasure-a vision they’d waited years to see. Especially Voldemort, who couldn’t believe he was finally feeling her tight warmth after so long, he wanted to pound her into the bed, to make her go dumb and cry out in pleasure-to hear his name on her lips, but he didn’t want to scare her, so he went slow.

“F-f-aster-please.” (y/n) moaned softly and Voldemort groaned lowly, he’d been waiting to hear that-leaning over her to fuck into her a bit faster, the sound of his hips smacking her inner thighs getting louder as gets a bit rougher-smirking when (y/n)’s moans got louder, a low whine escaping her as Thomas rubs her clit while Tom kisses her cheek, so many sensations at once that she can’t focus.

Voldemort pushes her knees towards her chest, a perfect position he thinks, watching her body bounce and his cock disappear inside her-no protection-biting his lip as she whines and moans, the wet sound of her pussy accepting his cock such an intoxicating sound that he never wants to stop fucking her.

“You like it darling? Do you like my cock inside you?” Voldemort purred, leaning over her, pinning her down with his hands and hips, pressing fully into her, grinding his hips against her-hitting that sensitive part inside her that made her gasp and writhe. “you don’t know how long I’ve dreamed of this my love, of being deep inside you, so close to you-with no barriers between us. I could get you pregnant right now-bound you to us for eternity.” Voldemort murmured, the other two groaning at the very thought while (y/n) tried to catch her breath, not even paying attention to his words, her brain too fuzzy to focus on anything but the tip of his cock against her inner sweet spot.

Voldemort smirked at her face, leaning down to kiss her as he rocked his hips again, fucking her deep and fast, making her moan and whine as he kept hitting that inner sweet spot again and again. Her breath got faster, her body writhing as she felt her orgasm approach again-this time harder, quicker. “i-i-im gonna-ah!” (y/n) moaned, Voldemort consuming her voice as he kissed her, swirling her tongue with his as he angled his cock right into her sweet spot, smirking as she clenched tightly around him-cumming hard.

He let out a low groan, shuddering as he came, spurts of cum filling her as he thrust a few more times, biting his lip as he pulled out, watching as it dripped out of her. “my turn,” Thomas murmured, grabbing her waist and twisting her around, laying her down on her stomach and kissing her shoulders down to her waist, putting her hips beneath a pillow as he kicked off his trousers. “you ready darling?” Thomas purred against her shoulder and (y/n) let out a small whine, Tom moving to lay her head in his lap, she looked up at him-closing her eyes as he leaned down to kiss her.

She gasped as Thomas pushed into her, sliding in easily with a groan. “fucking-perfect cunt.” Thomas moaned, his head falling between his shoulders as he gripped (y/n)’s hips, moving one hand to her lower back as his hips began to fuck into her, smirking at the sound of his hips meeting her plush ass. “that feel good darling?”

(y/n) twitched and moaned, panting hard as she already felt her 3rd orgasm rising-still on the high from her last one, her hips bucking back into Thomas as he pulled her hips higher to get deeper inside her, letting out low grunts and moans as he watched his cock disappear into her cum slicked pussy.

He leaned down, wrapping his arms around her waist and putting a hand on her neck-tugging her up against him, making her bounce as he fucked up into her, grinning against her neck as her moans reached a new pitch-her eyes clenched shut as she felt him roll into her just right and she shuddered, clenching tight around his cock as he bucked his hips up-hitting that spot inside her again and again till she came hard, letting out a hoarse moan as he bit her shoulder, thrusting into her twice more before cumming deep inside her.

(y/n) let out a weak groan, shivering as Tom took her in his arms-pulling her off of Thomas-she shuddered as he slid out of her, his cum running down her thigh. “You okay love?” Tom murmured against her cheek as she slumped against him, she breathed heavily and then nodded after a few moments, letting out a harsh breath as his cock pressed against her, sliding up and down the length of her pussy before pushing inside, sitting her down on his hips, her body arching back as his arms wrapped around her, his lips pressing to her neck. “Just let me do the work darling,” Tom purred against her throat, thrusting up into her-the sound of his cock pushing into her cum filled pussy making a loud noise that echoed in her ears-making her whine as he began; slow and easy.

He watched her face as he rolled his hips up, his mouth opening at the feeling of her tight warm cunt around him-the feeling of cum only making her wetter for him, making it so easy to slide in and out. “You feel heavenly love,” Tom groaned, kissing her neck as Thomas and Voldemort got closer, Voldemort kissing her upper waist as Thomas rubbed her shoulders, pressing his lips to her nape. “So good, made just for us, for me.”

(y/n) let out a sharp pant, her head falling forward as Tom’s hips began to move faster, his hands finding her hips to help her bounce on his cock, her belly tightened and she clenched around his cock, making both of them moan as his hips bucked-hitting that spot inside her again, making her squirm. “Too much darling? Cumming so many times-with all three of us fucking you?” Voldemort cooed against her ear, massaging her breasts, Thomas’ hand moving to cup her lower belly.

“So much of our seed inside you, it’s bound to take, you’ll be ours-forever, giving the Riddle family a proper heir.” Thomas said in a low groan, (y/n) too far gone to listen. Tom brought her closer, nosing her head to turn it so he could kiss her properly, swallowing her moans as he rolled his hips just right, smirking against her lips as she shuddered and let out a harsh breath-her brows furrowed as her 4th orgasm came rushing up and she bucked away from Tom.

“T-too much-s’too much-“ she moaned, putting her hands on Tom’s shoulders as that coil in her gut tightened again, this one more intense and she tried to escape it-Tom wouldn’t let her, kissing her jaw as Thomas reached around to rub her clit, smirking as she let out a small shriek. “-ahh-hahh!!”

“Let go love-cum on my cock-let me fill you up again,” Tom groaned against her neck, smirking as she writhed and bucked against the feeling-before her body tensed and she came hard-moaning weakly as he pinned her to the bed, thrusting inside her quickly until he came inside her.

“Good girl,” Voldemort purred, leaning down to kiss her forehead as her vision faded in and out, before it all went blissfully quiet.

The gentle brush of lips distracted her as he wrapped her in his essence, singing a song to siphon off the damaging power of the vortex.  Time flowed intimately from her into him.  Just as the flames of power extinguished and darkness grappled at her consciousness, she gasped one final breath to the universe sealing a kinder fate for the one she loved.

Warm water seeped through her jeans and shirt as desperate whispers tickled against her ear.  Her first thought was to wonder why she was in sodden clothes.  A song tickled at the back of her mind, elusive but comforting as she regained consciousness.  

“Please don’t leave me.”  His voice was ragged.  

Rose blinked and tried to form words to assure him she wasn’t going anywhere.  Her eyes cracked open taking in the sides of a bath tub sunken into familiar coral.  Blinking and grasping at memories as strong hands rubbed her arms, she tried to remember what happened.

“Rose, please.”

She frowned and shifted in the water wincing at the sodden weight of her clothing.  She hated being wet like this.  The Doctor knew that after listening to her whinge after one trip where they had to trod for hours through jungles during monsoon season.  Yet there she was submerged in a tub fully clothed.  That’s when she noticed equally soaked denim clad legs on either side of her; and a leather coat draped over the rim of the tub.

“Doctor?”  The words were hoarse and barely a whisper.

Several alien words flew out of his mouth as his arms wrapped around her.  Lying against his chest, she felt him shaking and his breath hitch.  He released her long enough to wipe at his face and her heart clenched.  He was crying.  

Wincing as she stretched stiff muscles, she turned to face him.  His face was etched with worry lines.  Blue eyes that often directed Time Lord anger at their enemies, now shimmered with fear and worry.  She cupped his face.

“I’m right here with you.”  She paused and looked at his soaked green jumper.  “Why are we in the tub?”

“Oh Rose, you did something incredibly foolish and brave.  I sent you away and you came back.”

Rose furrowed her brow.  “So you dumped me in the tub?  What about the Daleks?”

“I sang a song and the Daleks ran away.”

Rose squinted as she could almost remember music and singing.  “And Jack?”

He looked away from her.

Emotions welled and she felt burning in her chest.  “Jack isn’t…”

He tipped her head up and pressed his foreheat against hers.  “No.  He’s just handling a few things right now.  That’s all.”

“None of this makes sense.”

He rubbed a thumb under eyes wiping away running mascara.  “Might not ever.”

She nodded her head even though she was still confused.  He turned her around so she was lying back against his chest and he massaged her shoulders.  “How’s your head?”

“Feels like the morning after that coronation party on crabula nessex and we drank all those blue drinks.”

He chuckled as his fingers kneaded her shoulders.  “Told you to ease up.”

She hummed as she enjoyed how he pressed into her muscles releasing the tension.  She yawned and golden energy floated out her mouth.

She frowned but was too tired to worry.  “That’s weird,” she slurred before sleep claimed her.

She missed how the Doctor tensed and then directed a scowl at coral walls muttering about interfering time ships and laws of time.  Nor did she feel him scoop her up, from the tub and carry her down the corridor to the med lab pausing as he laid her on the exam table.