Eternally, Tom Riddle

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Tom Riddle: As a Vampire 🦇🧛🏻

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A cold-blooded, fanged, creature of the night preys upon the shadowed ground of South London.

Too-perfect, son of the undead, unfortunately handsome. The definition of a monstrosity— a mere error as textbook definition of life itself.

From the outside, Tom Riddle is your typical man. Not typical in your average human dictionary— Tom Riddle defies any sort of social norm or standard archetypical labeling. Typical in your biological, guy you see around— but never the courage to talk to, and 9-5- works for a living way.

If those 3 shared traits could describe him, he would be no different than any other human who devastates this earth.

Though, that’s the exact point. He isn’t human, and everything Tom Riddle perfectly calculates for the eye to see, is a facade.

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Tom Riddle x Pregnant! Reader

Warnings + Summary: Tom being a nicer version of Tom, old fashioned views, non-con pregnancy, teen pregnancy, arranged marriages, dom / sub dynamic, controlling / possessive Tom, toxic Tom

Fucked. That’s the only word you could use to describe the situation you were in - you were totally and utterly fucked. Whatever were you going to do? You paced back and forth in your dormitory as the thoughts and questions weaved and wrapped around the many veins of your brain which were now becoming apparent to you that they were useless in their entirety. How could you be so stupid? So reckless? You bit your nails anxiously - walking in your room for a good twenty minutes still unable to come to an educated conclusion.

You were pregnant and you had no fucking clue about what to do about it.

You’re a seventh year, potentially your most significant point of wizarding school. But you’re seventeen, a year off of being an adult. And unmarried adult - what would your parents think? A child outside of wedlock would be blasphemous! They’d disown you! And Tom - oh Merlin, what about Tom?

You and Tom had a rocky relationship as it is. He’s too domineering and charming and you’re too conforming and feisty to say no go him. It was like cat and mouse if the mouse laid down in the cats dinner plate and handed it cutlery. Tom rules your life by his own means and you felt it was okay to let him, after all what harm could come by it?

This. This harm. Tom had told you of his plans to rule the wizarding world and you had just nodded along, not thinking anything of it. But a child? He’d kill if! He’d kill you. You were going to die. Oh dear god you’ll be dead my morning if you told him.

“Hey- hey! Are you alright?” Your dorm mate asked. You hadn’t even heard her enter your shared room, but as soon as you heard her soothing and concerned tone you broke down into her arms crying. “I’m pregnant, Darla.” You told her between sobs and she reassured you as he caressed your back gently. “Is it Riddles?” She asks when your tears dry and you nod into her shoulder. “He’s no father. He’s hardly a partner. I allow him to control me but there is no way I’d allow him anywhere near a baby, regardless of whether or not it was his.” You say, angrily. “And I’m guessing he is unaware?” She asked and you nod. “Only just found out.” She understood but explained to you how you’d have to tell him. It was ethically and morally correct to inform the father of a child of his position and future.

You’d avoided Tom and his ominous stares for a few days now. But you could feel his eyes baring into your skull, reading your mind. You knew he was eyeing you and your untouched plate of food at breakfast and unusual concoctions that were boarder line criminal at dinner. You knew you were unable to avoid him forever, after all he had made it clear that he was in charge.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?” A voice asked, pushing you against the cold stone wall of an empty corridor. You looked into those death grey eyes and said nothing, attempting to wriggle out of his hold. “Stay still. Don’t you dare try to run away from me.” He threatened. “Fuck off, Tom.” You say, fighting back and you could’ve sworn he’d given you a shocked smirk. “Excuse me? Who do you think you’re talking to? Need I remind you that I own you, princess.” He hissed into your ear as he leans down to your height.

Tears begin to form in your eyes and he surveys your face without any changing emotion. “Talk to me. Now.” You inhaled deeply before glancing between the floor and his eyes. “I’m pregnant.” You say, voice barely above a whisper and it feels as if the world stops - you are shaking, body shutting down as it prepares for all the ungodly torturous and murderous spells you had seen him unleash on his other victims, it was only a matter of time until you became one, also.

Yet he smiled. Thomas Marvolo Riddle smiled. Something you had never seen before. Everything was going according to plan, he thought. He’d spent many sunrises and sunsets trying to convince you to be by his side while he brought his fascist views into this land and ruled all by any means necessary. Your reluctance was infuriating, to say the least and he had found the only plausible solution was to impregnate you with his offspring. Afterall, a poor defenceless girl like yourself needed protecting. Now with a foetus in your womb? He’d put you in lockdown, a dungeon, a high tower with no doors. He would make you his queen whether you would give him your hand or he’d have to cut it off and take it by force.

“Tom, why are you smiling?” You ask yet his expression didn’t drop. “Don’t you see? Silly girl. This baby is what we needed. Just you, I and our child. We shall bring uprising to the world with you by my side and a child on your hip. We shall be indestructible.” You thought for a minute before the cogs ticked into place. “You did this on purpose.” You spoke breathlessly, lurching away from him in disgust.

Deek might have seen a letter or two from yourself to Mister Marvolo...

*Chuckles*

Your letters to Mister @ask-marvolo are nothing compared to what Deek has heard and witnessed Mister Marvolo do...

But you didn't hear this from Deek....okay?

I’m sorry

IF VOLDEMORT IS BALD SO NO ONE CAN USE HIS HAIR IN A POLYJUICE POTION IS THAT WHY HE HAS NO NOSE

pairing: student!tom riddle x professor!reader

word count: –

warnings: age gap (Tom is 18 and reader is 20), reader is apart of the peverell family

a/n: this is my first ever tom riddle fic, so i’m very sorry if he’s ooc or if it’s just trash in general, i tried my best!

His intense gaze was like fire on your skin, his devilish eyes staring you down from his spot in the front row of the classroom, the promise of illicit acts hidden behind a feigned interest for the topic. You swallowed thickly, your throat running dry as you attempted to focus back on the lesson you were teaching. That’s how it had gone, right up until the dismissal of class.

Slowly packing away his things, Tom Riddle had waited until all of his peers had cleared out of the classroom before standing up and approaching you, his signature smirk resting upon his soft lips. The look on his beautiful face had you leaning back against your desk for stability, white knuckling the smooth oak wood in an attempt to keep yourself under control.

Your heart was racing a mile a minute, pounding so hard that you could hear it in your ears. You hated that he had this effect on you. Tom Riddle, one of your students, managed to make you weak in the knees with a single glance. It was wrong, in every sense of the word. Aside from the fact that you were his professor, he was also a minor, and the consequences would be horrifying. But sometimes, one just couldn’t stop lust from prevailing.

“Professor? Professor Peverell, are you alright?” His smooth voice, barely covering up his smug tone, tugged you out of your trance like state, your wide hues darting up from his lips to look into his own.

He was taunting you, egging you on to make the first move. Tom did this every time, refusing to touch you unless you touched him first. It was his way of letting you know just how tight his hold on you was, how he could most likely convince you to commit murder with a mere sharp grin.

Swallowing your urges down once again, you released your grip on the desk behind you and stood tall, determined to never touch him inappropriately ever again, “Yes Mister Riddle, I’m doing just fine. Thank you for your concern.” The words came out in a strictly professional manor, your composure not once faltering.

Looking almost amused, Tom took a step closer to you, his body inches away from being pressed up against your own as he leaned down to whisper into your ear, “Are you sure about that Professor? Because you’re looking quite flustered... if I do say so myself.” He purred, tempting you further.

“I can assure you Mister Riddle,” You began, stressing the matter that you were no longer on a first name basis with each other, “that I have a clean bill of health.”

A low growl emitted from the wizard, his patience with your unusual resistance wearing thin. It felt like hours that the pair of you had just stood there, staring deeply into each other’s stubborn eyes, daring the other to make the next remark. It was all a game, one big risky game of chicken.

His fingers gave a slow brush against the back of your hand, the contact feather light and ghostly, but enough to make you close your eyes and let out a low moan of satisfaction. Neither of you could deny the connection that you shared. It ran to the point of pain for being away from the others presence for too long.

It was almost as if your souls had intertwined tightly together, like two snakes. Fitting, seeing as how you were both apart of Slytherin house, Tom being a prefect and you being the head of house.

“Mister Riddle...” You breathed out lowly, your eyes remaining closed as you once again relaxed against your desk for stability, “This must stop. Whatever this is—whatever we are—cannot continue on any longer.” You drawled, almost regretting the words as soon as they left your mouth.

You knew as well as he that you would never be able to remain apart, not for too long anyway. It was simply not possible. One way or another, your bodies would pull each other back together again like the two magnets that they are.

Clenching his hands into tight fists, Tom had to calm himself down before responding to your weak words, his chest heating up out of anger. It was insane to him, how irrational you were being. He thought you ill enough to escort you to the infirmary.

“It’s working so far, is it not? You know full well that you belong with me. You’re beautiful, intelligent, witty, powerful... the perfect dark lady.” He smoothly quipped, raising his formerly clenched hand which was now open to hover just above your cheek, dangling his electric touch just out of reach. It was you who needed to make the connection.

After this love affair had began, Tom had confided in you about his future plans to become the most powerful dark wizard in not only the world, but in history, showing just how deeply his trust for you ran.

At first, you didn’t know how to feel, or even act, about his future plans. They were unnatural. Tom had the opportunities that other boys would kill for. Just to secure a successful future. Yet Tom didn’t give a lick about such a powerful position like the Minister of Magic.

You had reasoned with him that becoming the Minister would allow him more sway over the Wizarding world, hoping that he’d grow to like being minister so much so that he’d let go of his dark plans. But Tom had dismissed the idea, almost as soon as he had heard it, and you dismissed his darkness, reasoning that it might just be a phase.

Though before your relationship even began, he had come to you about many dark and unthinkable things that he had read about in the restricted section—including the corrupting topic of horcruxes—which despite the alarm bells going off in you’re head, you indulged him in. Oh, how stupid of a decision that is as for you to make.

You were just so powerful, so talented in the dark arts, so intelligent that you were the obvious choice for Tom to seek out this information. If you for some reason didn’t comply, he would resort to asking the potions Professor, Slughorn. But you did just as he hoped, and gave him the information he needed, and that was the moment he decided it.

You could never forget the look of pure malice which drowned in his eyes that night. The intentions they held far from good and pure. His eyes were most definitely not innocent. Yet you held your nerve, never once faltering, and that was the moment he knew you were the one. That was the moment he decided you were to be his.

“Tom... you must understand that not only could I lose my job here at Hogwarts, but they could lock me away in Azkaban for the rest of my days.” You explained rationally, hoping to appeal to his logical side, which part of you knew was pointless.

Usually, you weren’t one to waste time on logical and patient communication, but you realised that it was necessary when dealing with the likes of Tom Riddle.

“I assure you—” He began to speak, reassuring arguments resting on the tip of his tongue, unwilling to let go of the vice like grip that he held on you. But you cut him off before he could continue.

“Not only is this detrimental to both of our futures, but my family is on the verge of arranging a marriage for me due to my supposed lack of luck in romantic endeavours. They are unwilling to allow the most noble and ancient house of Peverell to end with me.” You explained, taking on a sharp tone as you pushed past him.

Tom: Get in.

Hermione: No.

Tom: Get in!

Hermione: No!

Tom: Now!

Hermione: Make m-