#vampire!tom

You tried to believe it.

For so long, you tried to forget the conversation you overheard in the Three Broomsticks. Just a drunk old man blabbering about an attack on his livestock—unusual really. The animal wasn’t killed for its flesh. But its body was completely drained of blood. Various detection spells showed no results, diagnostics failed. Until some old, wise witch found something—a vampire’s bite, hidden under dark, dark magic.

That’s how it all started.

And it fit too—the timeline was perfect. Weeks after Tom’s supposed death. Just a mere month after, more and more animals were killed in the exact same way, the bite always hidden by dark magic so it would be insanely difficult to discover and place. But never humans—no single human died. Which, in the end, calmed the public down. Rumours steadily disappearing from people’s conversations at the bar. Just another vampire, passing by the Scottish Highlands—feeding on animals—after all, feeding on humans, let alone killing them, was strictly forbidden by the Ministry.

But you felt it. There was more behind the story. Something that made you shudder each time you only looked in the direction of the Forbidden Forest.

And yet, you felt a strange pull towards it.

—

You have been restless for days. Total lunar eclipse, they say—better known as blood moon.

You can’t sleep. Can’t rest, can’t nap. The closer to a full moon, the worse it gets. To the point where you decide to go for a walk in the evening, to take your mind off things.

Originally, you didn’t intend to go into the forest, not really. But then, when you see a rare potion ingredient right at the edges of the woods—you rethink. After a brief moment of hesitation, you decide to collect it, putting it in a tote bag you have brought with you. As you look back up, you see it.

There are more, scattered around just a little further away—

Just a little deeper in the forest—

At some point, your bag is full. Potion ingredients that are so rare, if you sold your bag, you could probably afford a home for yourself.

You must have gotten really, really lucky, you think.

It’s getting darker and darker, the sun disappearing behind the horizon. You shudder when a chilly breeze brushes past you and finally decide to leave the forest.

Looking around you, you try to find the exit. This tree, that rock—you don’t exactly remember where you came from. But it couldn’t be that far.

Right?

You decide to turn around and just walk in a straight line, figuring that would be the fastest way to find the exit of the Forbidden Forest.

However, after 15 minutes of walking, you return to the same spot you left off at. There was no way you walked in a circle, but yet here you were—exactly where you started.

You try again.

Same outcome.

Your heartbeat races—you want to leave. It’s dark by now, and mindlessly wandering through the forest at night time, during a full moon, when there are possibly still vampires around—is not something you are keen on doing.

You shriek at a sudden movement, a soft crack of a branch somewhere behind you—but when you turn—there is nothing.

Then, a low growl to your left—

And your legs react faster than your brain. By the time you reach a small bush, somewhere to hide under, you are completely out of breath.

You listen intently for any strange sounds, try to control your breathing—when you see it.

A small hut, not far away.

Looking left and right, you slowly make your way towards the wooden structure, entering in one swift movement, closing the door behind you. For a moment you let yourself rest against the wall, inhaling deeply. It’s quite cold in here, the scent of mossy wood flooding your senses, the rough wood scraping against your arms. But it’s silent. Calm. Dark. And for the first time since you entered the forest—

Safety.

Or so you think.

“You came for me. I knew you would. Stupid, stupid girl.”

Your heart skips a beat, head turning in the direction of an all-too-familiar voice—

It’s too dark to make out more than a faint outline of the person next to you—besides their scarlet eyes directly burning down into yours.

His voice, his eyes, his height.

Tom Riddle. Now, a vampire.

One hand firmly wraps around your throat before you can even think about running, pushing you up against the wooden panelling. Squeezing tightly enough you can barely fucking breathe.

“Let— me go!” You rasp, the last bit of air left in your lungs wasted on words you know will do nothing to help your situation. Oh, no—not until he’s gotten what he’s wanted. What he has been after ever since he turned. Your blood. Only yours. Animals, in the meanwhile, merely acting as a substitution—he wanted you.

“Too late.” He says, fingers pressing down even harder on the side of your throat. “I have always thought you were a smart girl, but clearly I am mistaken. Falling for a trap this obvious.”

The last few words fade into a blur, your brain too deprived of oxygen to function. Just as your vision goes black at the edges, his hand leaves your throat. Without him firmly pressing you against the wall, your knees give in, having you drop to the floor, gasping for air.

He doesn’t wait for you to recover—instantly bending down, grabbing a fistful of your hair just to forcefully yank your head backwards. Forcing you to look into his eyes again.

“So the rumours are true,” you whisper, trying to back up—but his grip is too strong. “It was you all along.”

He merely grants you a nod. “It was the only way. I wanted to avenge myself—wanted to find the someone whose fault this all is.”

His expression is unreadable as he looks down at you—a brief flash behind his eyes—almost predatory.

Your breath catches in your throat. Fuck.

“Quite curious, isn’t it? The very person that found out about my plans, getting me murdered in consequence—is the one’s blood I crave most.”

And then he smirks, subtle but dangerous. The red moon, now at its highest on the pitch-black horizon, casts a shadow on his sharp features through the window.

“Tom, I didn’t—“

His palm comes down on your cheek. Hard.

“If you want to live, you should act accordingly. No more lies. You will obey my every command. And I might just let you leave afterwards.” He says, thumb softly wiping over where he struck you. “If you are a very, very good girl, that is.”

You swallow. He set up a trap, and you walked into it, thanking him even. Served yourself on a silver plate. You curse yourself for it.

Tears well up in your eyes. “I will do anything you ask. Please just don’t— kill me.”

His eyes glow at your response. Just how he’s wanted you. Pliant. Obedient. Helpless.

He’d taken in your unique scent from miles away. He’d felt the racing heartbeat in your chest—pumping your sweet, sweet blood through your body as you panicked while looking for an exit. Tom merely had to wait for sunset to get to you then.

Back at Hogwarts he secretly admired you for your intelligence—though you were never smarter than him, not even now.

“Anything, you say?” He purrs, pulling you to your feet by your hair, so you are mere inches from his face. He still looks the same as he did in school. This beautiful, dark hair, sharp jawline, perfect height. You nod, carefully.

“Strip.”

His voice is rough, demanding—not giving you any space or option to complain. You can’t say no, and you know it. You try to keep your breathing steady—however, when you feel his gaze dropping, hand coming to rest on your neck, thumb deliberately caressing along your most prominent neck vein—you can’t help but inhale sharply, followed by a shaky whimper.

“We are alone in this forest, just you and me.” He drawls, pressing down on your pulse point, brows furrowing as he feels your heightened heartbeat under his finger. You are warm. So deliciously warm, he thinks.

His hot breath ghosts over your cheek as he leans in closer—dangerously close. Uncomfortably close. “I could drain you right here. And nobody would notice.”

That’s it. Any sane thoughts are ripped from your mind, and you start sobbing.

“Shhh.” He soothes, a condescending grin decorating his face, the rough pad of his thumb wiping a freshly spilled tear from your cheek. “I am not going to hurt you. Not more than necessary.”

You nod again, wiping a tear from your face.

“Now do as I said. When you are done, bend over the table.”

With a flick of his fingers a few candles light up, illuminating your body as you undress piece by piece. All while he watches you intently, hungry eyes roaming over your bare skin.

You take a deep breath before you turn around, bending over said table in the middle of the small room, the rough edge digging into your hip bones.

The sound of his clothes dropping to the floor is the only thing that breaks the silence between the both you, and a mere minute later, he’s behind you. Cock pressing against your thigh, hard and heavy—a bead of precum leaking from the tip. But he waits, lingers there—thumb trailing along your spine—hand coming to a rest on your hip before two of his fingers push inside, working you open for him. You gasp at the feeling—hips meeting his thrusts.

Tom instantly halts inside of you, other hand smacking your ass so hard it must tingle on his own skin.

“This is supposed to be a punishment. Yet here you are, bucking your hips like a whore. Stop that.”

His words sting. But he isn’t wrong—not entirely. As messed up as the situation is, you can’t help but whimper at his touch—how he already knows every single spot that makes you whine and moan. You hate him, you really do—but Merlin— there is something about him like this that makes heat pool in your lower stomach—and as much as you want to deny it, you can’t.

And he notices, of course he does. Quickly withdrawing his fingers, turning you around and helping you up on the table, immediately pushing you down on it. His hand wraps around his cock, stroking himself before he swipes through your soaked folds once, twice, maybe three times—groaning as your arousal coats the head of his cock—and then he pushes inside. Not slowly. Not carefully. No time to adjust. No stopping—never stopping. Until he is fully hilted inside you.

Your mouth falls open in a silent scream—the stretch close to unbearable—but he doesn’t grant you much time to think about it. One second later he’s already moving, hips snapping against yours—so hard it has your body moving up the table, and he has to pull you back down.

And then, with one swift movement, his head dips, breath hot against your skin before his tongue laps over your pulse point. Slowly, teasingly, until your breathing slows—and then, without further warning, his fangs sink deep into the flesh of your exposed neck. Blood wells from the wound, dripping down your chest, drying on your skin.

The pain is sharp, blinding—you want to scream, cry—but the sound gets caught in your throat. It’s not until a few seconds later that the sting eases—replaced by something almost pleasurable—something that eases the burning ache between your legs. Suddenly you feel the heat of his bite coursing through you—and what it’s doing to you is on the verge of embarrassing. It makes you want him—want him like you have never wanted anyone else before.

“Already loosening up for me. All it takes is a bite.” He drawls against your skin, crimson staining his lips. His grip on your waist tightens, preventing you from moving up the surface of the table as he thrusts harder, deeper.

You breathe shakily as he continues feeding on you, all while mercilessly pushing into you—hitting all the right spots, too. It’s all too much. His bite, the blood loss, the way he splits you apart so perfectly. Soft whimpers spill over your lips as your mind grows hazy—maybe from his fangs sunken deep in your neck, though more likely from your quickly building orgasm.

You don’t want to give it to him. You don’t want to give him the satisfaction.

But he knows, he knows what you are capable of—what he makes you feel. What he will make you feel.

Tom continues feeding until he’s satisfied, groaning, sighing against your neck—continues draining you until you are on the verge of passing out.

You are so, so close. So close to shattering around him. You shake your head no, tears welling up as he meets your eyes, feeling your walls flutter around him.

And he—merely grins.

“So close, aren’t you? Trying to keep it from me, I see. But that’s not how we play, sweetheart.”

His hand travels down your body, thumb finding your swollen, aching clit. Rubbing tight, delicious circles until your hips buck and tears stream freely down your cheeks. Until your voice is hoarse from whining and moaning. Until you can’t hold it anymore, and you finally, finally let go around him. His hand wraps around your throat as your walls clamp down tightly around him, as your mind is stripped of the last bits of sanity you had left. Thighs trembling violently around him as your orgasm hits you like a freight train. And you can do nothing but take it.

“Fuck— squeezing me like a vice. Going to ruin you. Ruin you for everyone else.”

And with that, his hips stutter against yours, a low groan falling over his lips as he thrusts all the way in, brushing against your cervix one last time before he spills deep inside of you, coating your walls with his release. But he isn’t done—doesn’t stop thrusting, forcing his cum deeper, not until you are whining in overstimulation.

“Please, no more, Tom— can’t take it.” You whimper, hand closing around his wrist.

“Oh, but you can, and will. You will take it until I am satisfied, and you aren’t leaving a second earlier.”

He keeps going until you are limp beneath him, so full of him you’ll be dripping for days to come. Keeps going until he is satisfied, until he’s wrung out every last drop of pleasure from your body.

Because after all, you agreed to it.

Anything, you said. Anything so he would let you live.

Anything.

Right?

Only when your sobs fade, exhaustion taking over, does he pull out, slowly, making you feel every inch of him.

He helps you up then, hands now carrying a subtle gentleness to them. Tom holds your head in place as he inspects your wounds, kisses your tears away. His eyes too have softened, the once scarlet red irises now a darker shade of red, almost brown.

“You did well. Took me like a good girl until the end. I reckon you have earned your life.”

He’s used you. Fed on you. Nearly broken you. Bitten you in a way you’d stay pliant for him.

You dress yourself. Still sobbing, fresh tears staining your cheeks. You don’t look back as you walk to the door to leave.

But before you get to do so, a hiss slips out instead—a sudden, burning pain radiating from right under your collarbone.

Looking down, you see three bright red letters appearing on your skin, drops of blood spilling from them.

T M R

“What the—“ you gasp, softly wiping the blood away before you look back up, meeting Tom’s expression—closed, with a hint of pride. He takes a step closer, gaze fixated on his work on your skin.

“Means you are mine.” He explains, reaching out to wipe over the letters, earning a sharp hiss from you.

“Means I will find you. Anywhere. In every last secluded part of this world, I will always find you. Because you are now bound to me. Bound by blood. You are mine, until death does us part.”

Horror washes over you at the realization.

“And I am certain a smart girl like you knows— a vampire lives forever.”

part two.

thank you for reading! feel free to reblog and leave feedback <3 — masterlist. | AUs.

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Once again, you’d let your friend Lindsey drag you out to a nightclub. According to her, she felt a duty to get you outside every once in a while otherwise you’d spend every waking second in the university library with your head stuck in a book.  Which is exactly where you needed to be when you were prepping for the GRE.  And exactly where you’d rather be than in the loud, sweaty club you were sitting in at that moment.

You were choking down a sip of your overpriced electric blue cocktail when Lindsey tapped you on the leg.  “You’ve got an admirer.”

“What?”

“Guy in the corner over there has been checking you out since the second we sat down.”

You groaned.  “See, this is why I didn’t want to come here in the first place.  You can’t sit and enjoy a drink for even five seconds without some guy staring you down like you’re a piece of meat.”

“Don’t be like that.  This one is actually kind of cute.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

“You don’t trust me?”

“Your taste is questionable, at best.”  Lindsey, bless her heart, had never seen a backwards cap wearing frat bro that she didn’t think was ‘cute’.  You didn’t even know if you had a type, but it most definitely wasn’t that.  “Where is he?”

“Dark haired guy in the corner.  The one in the leather coat.”

You took a discrete glance over your shoulder.  Your eyes slowly adjusted to the dimly lit atmosphere until you finally zoomed in on the guy in question.  For once, Lindsey may have been right.   He was cute; at least from what you could see from where you were sitting.   Even with the distance and lack of lighting you could also see how young he looked.  

“I guess he’s attractive enough, but the dude looks twelve.  Is he even old enough to be in here?”

“How should I know?”  Lindsey grabbed her drink off the bar and took a sip.  “You can ask him yourself though cause here he comes.”  Lindsey picked up her clutch and slid off her barstool. “I’m just gonna leave you two to get acquainted.”

“You’re just going to leave me alone with this guy?” You were terrible at small talk and any attempts at flirting made you feel awkward and self-conscious.   “What if he’s some kind of weirdo?”

“It’s not like you’re alone in the middle of nowhere.  I’ll just be right out there on the dance floor.  Just a shout away.”

You tried to make a grab for Lindsey’s wrist as you could see the guy approaching from the corner of your eye.  “I’m sure you’ll be fine.”  She threw one last smart assed comment over your shoulder as she eluded your grasp. “You’re good with kids anyway.”

“Lindsey,” you made one last effort to get your friend’s attention, but it was too late as you felt someone slide onto the barstool next to yours.  The voice you heard was soft, kind and lightly accented.

“Sorry to bother you, but I was wondering if you might do me a favor.”

You braced yourself for the cheesy pickup line you were certain you were about to be assaulted with from your new, unwanted companion.  You turned and found yourself looking into the biggest, prettiest brown eyes you had ever seen in your life.  Eyes that had an odd depth to them.  Eyes that were practically hypnotic.

“What can I do for you?” which was certainly not what you had been planning to say but was what had come out of your mouth nonetheless.

“Well, as you might have already guessed from my accent, I’m not from around here.”

“Irish, right?”

“That’s funny.  Apparently, my UK license looks phony to the bartender and he is refusing to serve me. Told me if I showed it to him again, he was going to confiscate it and have me thrown out.  So, I was wondering if you might be willing to buy me a drink?”

“You want me to buy you a drink?  That’s a new one.”

“Normally, I wouldn’t ask such a thing, but with this baby face of mine, the bartender isn’t budging.”

“If the bartender is refusing to serve you, how do I even know if you’re old enough to be drinking?  I don’t want to contribute to the corruption of a minor.”

“I can assure you that I’m a fair bit older than I appear.” He smiled then, and it was a beautiful smile, but there was a hint of sadness to it.  “And I was corrupted long before we ever met.”    

“Yeah, I don’t know.”  The man standing next you was very handsome and you did feel a pull towards him but still you felt like something was holding you back.

“I’m just so thirsty.  It’s been a long time since—” he paused as though he was struggling to finish his sentence.  “It’s just been a long time since I’ve had a proper drink.”  You heard him sigh and mutter under his breath.  “I didn’t want to do it this way.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”  He reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out his wallet.  He pressed a wad of bills into your hand and looked up into your eyes.  “I want you to buy me a couple of shots of whiskey, get another of whatever you’re having and meet me at the table where I was sitting before.  You can do that for me, can’t you love?”

“Of course.”  The words had flowed from your mouth without even a cursory amount of input from your brain.

You took a second to watch as he made his way back to his corner table before you got the bartender’s attention and placed your order.  You felt like you were operating on auto pilot as you picked up the drinks and dutifully made your way to the stranger’s table.  You deposited the drinks on the table and slid into the booth beside him.

Your butt had barely touched the seat before he had already grabbed one of the shots and tossed it down his throat.  Throwing back a shot of straight whiskey like that would have made the average person choke, but he didn’t even flinch.

“I guess you really were thirsty.”

“You have no idea.”  For someone that had seemed so eager to have your company just moments before, he wasn’t making much effort at carrying on a conversation.  As much as you loathed small talk, you tried to think of something to say to fill the awkward silence between you.

“So, are you here for school or visiting relatives or something?”

“Or something.”

“Okay.”  Cute or not the guy was starting to weird you out a bit.  “You’ve got your drinks.  I think I’m going to go and catch up with my friend.”

You made to slide out of the booth but he laid his hand upon your forearm, stalling your movement.  Goosebumps immediately sprang up when his cool, smooth skin came into contact with yours. “Don’t go.  You’ll have to forgive me if my behavior seems a little strange. It’s just been a while since I’ve done this.”

“Done what?”

“Tried to chat up a beautiful woman.  I’m a bit rusty.”  The hesitation you felt must have been plainly written across your face.  “Give me another chance.”

You ignored the nagging voice at the back of your head telling you to get up and walk away and settled back into your seat.  

From that moment on, it was like a switch had been flipped.  The guy sitting beside you turned from reticent and reserved into a charming chatterbox.  He told you funny stories about his friends and family, doing voices and gesturing wildly with his hands all the while.  He didn’t just talk about himself though.  He asked questions about you as well and seemed genuinely interested in your answers; his eyes never strayed from yours as you spoke.  

As the night wore on you found yourself getting more and more comfortable in his presence.  Your natural guards lowered as you moved closer to him in the booth not minding at all when his thigh was pressed up against yours; when he put his arm around your shoulder and drew you closer to his side.

You were getting along so well that by the time he casually suggested that the two of you went to your place so you could be alone, it had seemed like the best idea you’d ever heard in your life.  

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Standing there at your door with keys in hand and your back to him, it was like your senses had suddenly returned and you couldn’t even remember why you had thought this was a good idea in the first place. Letting this man into your apartment would be a huge mistake and you knew it.  You had to put a stop to this.  You would offer to get him an uber if necessary but some instinctual part of you knew that you needed to get him as far away from you as possible.

You turned to tell him that you had changed your mind but as soon as your eyes met his, the words died on your lips.  You faltered, keys jingling in your now slightly trembling hand as your mind went totally blank.

Tom tilted his head, big brown eyes shining with light and brimming with concern.  “Are you okay, darling?”

“I—I don’t know.  I was just about to do something but now I can’t remember what it was.”

“That’s okay.  You were going to open the door and invite me into your apartment.”

“Are you sure?”  You knew the words were coming out of your mouth, but your voice sounded faint and far away to your own ears.