Tom invited his girlfriend to spend the holidays with him at his fatherâs house in Little Hangleton. [Y/n] was getting anxious because it would be the very first time for her to meet Tom Riddle Sr. The worst of it, the older Riddle had taken an interest in her since he met her.
⢠Dominance
Tom Riddle shows his possessive behaviour by fucking reader whilst his âfriendsâ are watching, driven by his jealousy.
⢠Party Animal, Halloween (00s AU!)
Tom gets horny after seeing you in a revealing Halloween costume.
⢠Birthday Girl
Tom Riddle is being very romantic and soft with you especially on your birthday.
⢠The Riddles - smut
What if Tom Riddle decided to share reader with his father just for one night?
⢠His Good Little Pet
Pet play, reader is Tom Riddleâs kitten.
⢠Lost
Reader got lost in the forest until she saw a manor and went there.
⢠Mischievous - Tom Riddle x James Potter
James learns the consequences of bully-flirting with his one year senior Tom Riddle.
Pairing: Big Dick! Billy Hargrove x Whore! f! Reader
Warnings: Smut! Filth, literal filth, slut shamming, p n v, oral (m receiving), unprotected and protected sex (wrap it up pls), "pet" names (Doll face, Baby, slut, whore, bitch). Let me know if i missed something. This isn't pre-read, may have errors.
Summary: You are the school's slut. All the guys have at least fucked you once. You enjoy it, the attention, the play, all of it. Billy is the new "It" boy, the new King of Hawkins. Just makes sense he comes to proposition you eventually.
A/n: The purring is loud with this one...
You lay out over one of the benches in the boys locker room, your skirt hiked up as Jason thrusts into your cunt. You moan as you feel him twitch inside you.
âFuck, you feel so goodâŚâ Jason groans into your ear, leaning over you.
âSo good, Jason. Fuck- just like that,â you encourage him, humping your hips back into his.
You are the whore of Hawkins High, if one of the boys needs to let off steam, you were the one to go to. You were everyoneâs dream fuck, and you werenât hard to get either. Youâve fucked every guy on the basketball team, except one. The new guy.
You donât know much about him, other than his name is Billy and apparently heâs a total douche. You were going to probably meet him tonight at Tommyâs party.
You both finish, Jason discarding the condom while you pull back up your underwear. You both leave separately out back into the school, being sure not to get seen together.
You meet up with Carol and Vicki, who stand out in the hall. âHeâs got some tutor sessionâŚâ you catch Carol say as rolls her eyes.
âWho?â You ask, moving closer to the group of seniors you associate with.
âTommy. He said he has a tutor now, for Chemistry. And heâs having to meet up with them during lunch today so he canât sit with us.â She explains, sounding agitated.
âThat sucks.â âYeah, and not to mention you canât! You have your cheer thing, which means itâs just Vicki, Tina, Nicole, and I with the new guy.â Carol groans, âwhich I guess is fine because heâs hot, but damn.â
âOh yeah, I forgot about that!â You try to change the topic, âHeâs hot? Did you two already see him today?â Carol and Vicki make eye contact because turning to you.
âSmoking. That man is a meal. (Y/n), you have to tell us how he is when you fuck him.â You sigh.
ââWhen?ââ You question.
âBitch, yes! When! I need to know the details, unless Nicole can dive in first.â Carol mentions which gets Nicoleâs attention.
âMaybe, god would I give to ride that manâŚâ âNicki!â Carol smacks her shoulder, causing the group to giggle.
âWell, I have to go, my uh⌠practice start soon.â You explain before walking off.
You werenât totally lying, the cheerleaders of the Junior class were getting together during this lunch period to practice some more, but that wasnât what you were doing.
You step into the boyâs bathroom connected to the gym, only to get yanked by your next fuck into one of the stalls. âTommy! Jesus Christ, you scared me!â You smack him on the arm.
âSorry, god I just couldnât wait any longer, Carol is great, and I love her. But you are just too good to pass up.â He locks the stall door before picking you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he shoves your back into the door.
It doesnât take long before your underwear is dangling on your thigh as you holding the top of the door as his cock drills into your needy cunt. You enjoy it, your cunt still a bit raw from the fuck it got from Jason.
âYou fucked Jason earlier, right? Jackass wouldnât shut up about it.â Tommy groans.
âOh yeah? Ah- Is he trying to use me a-as brownie points or-â you moan as he thrusts harder.
âGuess so. Trying to act all big saying heâs not a loser virgin.â Tommy grabs your hips and yanks you down on his cock, making your toes curl. âDoesnât know we all fuck you though.â
The rest of the day goes by quick, classes pass by in a blur between your other âappointments.â When the last bell rang you were under the bleachers, two guys fucking you. Your mouth wrapped around one cock while your pussy is fucked by the other. You are dropped quickly when people start talking, walking into the gym. You straighten out your clothes and head out, going home to get ready for the party later.
You get out of the car, straightening out your little dress, wiggling the tight fabric back down your legs. Carol presses the lock button on her keys after the others get out as well. You follow the girls into the house, where Tommy walks up and greets you all, kissing Carol and throwing his arm over her shoulders.
"You girls want anything to drink?" He asks, gesturing to the kitchen with his free hand.
After everyone gives their drink orders, Tommy makes a sophomore get them for you. Before the drinks even make it to your hands, Tommy suddenly gets really excited and runs outside to the backyard. Carol rolls her eyes and you all follow him, only to find him cheering on some guy on the keg. After the guy chugs doing a keg stand, he falls back down with the beer dripping down his chin and onto his exposed chest. Something about it is... hot.
"That's the new guy," Nicole whispers to you, "His name is Billy Hargrove, fucking sexy."
"Have you fucked him yet?" You ask looking over at him, which she just sighs.
"Unfortunately not, but maybe tonight." She gives you a wink before walking over to him. God the look he gives her says everything you need to know about how he is. Toxic men just do something for you.
"Oh! (y/n)!" A very cheerful voice calls out to you which you turn around to see your friend and fellow cheerleader, Chrissy, "have you seen Jason? He said he would be here tonight..." You loop arms with her so she doesn't get lost and look around for her.
"I think I see him over there," you point in the direction of the backdoor, where Andy is clinging onto some whore with Jason just awkwardly standing there.
"Oh, gosh, thank you!" Chrissy runs off to her lover boy.
A good hour into the party someone comes up behind you, wrapping one arm around your waist. "Having fun?" A voice, this time sounding much nicer than Chrissy's, comes from behind you. You don't look over your shoulder, instead you grind your ass into the guy's crotch.
"Better now," You finally look over your shoulder to the guy, shockingly having to look up a good bit to meet his eye. Billy Hargrove now stands with his fingers already tangling into the fabric of your dress on your hip. You don't even react at how the fabric lifts up to your hip, practically flashing your ass to the rest of the party if he wasn't right behind you.
"Oh?" Billy leans down a bit, giving you a little nudge to get walking, leading you away from your friends. "I heard from Tommy that you know how to show a guy a good time, is that true, Doll face?" He lifts his free hand up to your hair, brushing a strand out of your face.
"Maybe," you smirk at him, depends on your definition of 'fun' honestly... personally mine is sex." You are being forward sure, but how where you supposed to act when a new guy with an obvious big dick that you can feel rubbing against your ass propositions you?
"Forward, good. I like a slut who knows what she wants." He squeezes your hip, messaging the fat there. "How about we go upstairs? Tommy says he has a free room for us to use." You nod, letting him lead you, guiding you to the stairs and up them, a few soft moans leaving you when his bulge rubs against you.
You shoves you into the nearest bedroom, which happens to be the master bedroom, and shuts the door by slamming your back into the door, locking it. His hand instantly yanks your dress up over your hips before he shoves his hand down into your panties. His fingers run over your already soaked cunt.
"Fuck, already wet, Slut?" He sinks two fingers into you, earning a beautiful moan from your lips. "Oh yeah? You like when your cunt is used? Like being the girl who gets passed around?" He watching your face twist up as his fingers curl inside you, hitting that perfect spot.
"Ah-!" You reach for his arm, grabbing it as your legs already buckle, the previous fucks of the day finally catching up.
"Oh, fuck no. Whore needs to be treated like one." Billy scoops you up before throwing you onto the bed. "Strip." His voice is demanding, powerful. You obey him, yanking your dress over your head and pulling down your underwear, kicking them off and onto the floor. "God, look at you. No bra too?" Billy grins, "Are you like this with every guy? Needy for a dick?" Billy unbuckles his belt, yanking it out of the belt loops without any issue.
"Do you talk to all your fucks like this?" you give him a grin. "Cause I really like it." Billy chuckles, pulling off his jacket.
"Be a good bitch and come here." He waves one finger at you, beckoning you to him. You obey, crawling over to him, getting on your knees on the foot of the bed. "Good. Now undo my pants for me." You do so, unbuttoning the jeans on his hips before pulling them down. The tent of his boxers looks even bigger without the heavy denim holding it down.
Fuck, he's got to be huge.
"Go ahead." He stares down at you, not even tilting his head, just watching you with his eyes. You take his words as an ok, reaching up and tugging his boxers down. You don't even flinch when his huge cock springs up at you, smacking your cheek. "Suck it."
You feel your cheeks heat up. You've sucked lots of dicks before, but you've never had one this big. God and he's supposed to go inside you?
"Suck. it." His voice is more firm, catching your attention. You swallow hard before taking the base of his cock in your hands, one hand around it just barely covering the circumference. You take his swollen tip into your mouth, licking the bit of precum that leaks out before slowly moving your head to take in more. Billy groans, the noises he makes not helping your situation as your bare cunt barely rubs against the comforter.
"That's it, Baby. Take it nice and deep." Billy watches you take more of his cock into your mouth, the drool dribbling out from the corner of your lips. He moans, bucking his hips forward which causes you to gag. You try to pull away, but his fingers lace into your hair, pushing his fat cock further down your throat. You feel your eyes water.
"Come on, Bitch. You call this a blowjob? You can take more of me." He shoves your head further onto his cock, your instinct being to grab his muscular leg, trying to brace yourself in some way. You moan, the feeling of your throat being just so full.
"Mmm-!" You gag on him again, but then he starts moving your head for you, thrusting his hips as he fucks your throat so brutally. It feels like you're properly being used. For once you don't have to ask for the guy to be rough.
"That's it, such a good slut, take my cock deep into that used throat." You can hardly breath as he goes faster, your eyes rolling back as you feel your cunt clench around nothing.
Fuck... fuck... Are you actually about to cum from this?
He continues to fuck your throat, his cock twitching as your tongue works skillfully around it.
"Fuck yeah, just like that." His hands yank at your hair, causing you to moan, the small breaths you can get only pushing you closer to coming undone. He thrusts one last time deep into your throat, and you feel your cunt spasm as you cum onto the comforter under you, creating a wet spot. He rips his cock out of your mouth, causing you to gasp for air and collapse onto the bed.
"Shit. Did you cum? Just from sucking my dick?" He grabs your ankles and shamelessly lifts your legs, spreading them wide so he can see the embarrassment of your cunt twitching and dripping. "Shit, look at that." He climbs onto the bed, sitting on his knees as his huge cock slaps down onto your stomach. You moan, his large balls smacked up against your cunt.
"Beg, bitch. Beg for my cock like a good fucking slut." He orders, bucking his hips against you.
"W-Wait, no condom?" You're still trying to catch your breath from sucking that monster. Now he wants to put it in you?
"Don't you wanna feel my cock fill you?" His question is rhetorical, "It feels even better without the condom, plus I always break them anyways. Now, be a good bitch and beg." He orders, moving your ankles to be over your head.
"O-Oh, fuck..." You look down at his fat cock as it rests against your stomach, the swollen tip angry for attention. "Please... God, please, Billy." you can't even believe you're doing it.
"Please what?"
"Please fuck me. Please, ruin me. Please, Billy- Ah!" You gasp as you feel his tip press against your slit.
"Better take it all, bitch." Billy growls at you before thrusting hard. His cock forces inside you, practically ripping you open. "That's it, Slut. Nice and deep." He grips your hips and yanks you down, pressing his body against yours so your legs stay over your head. You feel him. Not like every other guy you've fucked, you fucking feel his cock inside you. Every bump, every vein, shit, every inch, you feel your cunt clenching around him.
You feel yourself going dumb, your eyes flashing with every twitch his cock makes inside you.
"Fuck, look at that." You feel his palm rub over your stomach, looking down to see the bulge his cock is making. "Ever had a guy this deep in you before?"
You don't have time to process the question as he begins thrusting into you, hard and fast. You can't help but just moan and gasp with every tiny movement, so a full thrust feels like fucking heaven.
"Such a good bitch, taking my cock so well." He pushes your legs further down, forcing your hips to push up, giving him better access to you. "Fuck," he pushes down on your stomach, right on top of the bulge his dick is making and that sends you over the edge.
Your cunt spasms, toes curl, tongue hangs out as your head falls back, back arching, god, all the things. You've never cum so hard in your life, but he doesn't stop. He thrusts you through your orgasm, bucking his cock somehow deeper. You can't think, can hardly breath, panting like a bitch in heat as his big, fat cock ruins your cunt.
"Fuck, fuck!" You moan, whimper as you come undone again. Shit, are those stars?
Your vision blurs as you go limp, your mind fucked out as you just try to focus on the feeling of his cock drilling into you.
"Fuck, that's it. Like getting this pussy ruined? Won't be able to take any other cock now, huh, bitch? You'll only be able to get off from mine." He goes harder, faster, causing you to gasp.
"Y-Yes! Hah- Yes!" You feel stupid, your mind not able to focus on words, just his cock. This thick cock drilling into you, ruining you. Filling you oh so well.
"God, look at you. You're going stupid." Billy grins, watching you go dumb on his cock. "Love when this happens. A whore loosing her mind over my dick." He laughs, "Fuck, your pathetic cunt is gonna make me cum." He thrusts faster.
"Do you want me to cum, Bitch? Want me to fill your filthy cunt up with my cum?" He thrusts harder, hitting so deep you can feel his cock pounding against your cervix. "Gonna fill you up, you whore. You fucking whore, gonna knock you up with my kid. You'd like that, though wouldn't you? Being my pregnant bitch living off my cock." You feel his cock twitching inside you, swelling at the friction. He's gonna cum. He gonna fill you up.
He gives one more good thrust, hitting his cock as deep as possible before stopping. You feel a warm rush inside you as he finishes. You both sit there for just a moment as he catches his breath, before he finally pulls out of you, his cum leaking from your cunt.
You feel suddenly empty, your poor cunt sore and legs feel like jelly. Oh you aren't gonna be able to stand....
"Shit, you're pathetic. Can't even take a good fucking... How disappointing." He slaps your ass, hard. "Get dressed, we have to go back downstairs and act like nothing happened."
Summary: Reader is captured at the end of the war as the Death Eater's celebrate their victory. She is told she is to marry Tom Riddle, but can't figure out why he'd want her or why she isn't trying harder to escapeâŚ
Tags: Forced marriage, P in V, Unprotected sex, Fingering, DarkLord!Tom Riddle, Set after a vague Wizarding War, Not canon or timeline compliant, Voldemort wins, Reader is a member of the Black family, Enemies to lovers (?), Imprisonment, Implied age gap (but i was thinking of it as like 10 years at most, again, not timeline compliant).
Word count: 2.6k
all fandom masterlist | hp masterlist | read it on ao3
Authors note: This was based on a request that I changed a bit to make myself more comfortable writing it (e.g. making the age gap smaller but vague enough so you can imagine whatever you like while you read it). Hope you like it anyway mwah ( ââĄâ)㣠âĄ
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It wasnât what you would picture as a prison. The plush furnishings, grand windows and monumental bookcases suggested an atmosphere of comfort and luxury, but make no mistake, this palatial room was your holding cell. The order had fallen, and the writing had been on the wall for some time now, however, there was no giving up in the fight against evil, so they fought until the bitter end. You were one of the lucky few still alive after the battle on the grounds of Hogwarts, although you hardly felt lucky given the circumstances. You stared at the ridiculously ornate, but admittedly beautiful, wedding dress hung in the small walk-in-wardrobe across from your bed, wishing it would light on fire from the anger in your gaze alone. But of course, it doesnât. You have been stripped of your magic, your wand is who knows where and your room is enchanted to allow no magic inside it, all to prevent your escape.
Why he chose you, you canât understand. Sure, you were from a well-established pureblood family with a deep history as heâd explained to you the one time youâd seen him since your capture, but there were many girls like that for him to have his pick of. You were angry and defiant, you didnât wish to bend to him, you spoke back and you lashed out when he tried to touch you. Why would he choose that over, say, your relative Bellatrix, who seemed to constantly be vying for his affection and shared your heritage? Throughout the war, you had constantly found yourself facing against him. He had even commented on occasion that it was always you in his way. Perhaps, this was merely his final revenge.
âI donât even like you!â youâd protested, sitting across from him at the grand dining table of the Malfoy or Nott or Lestrange manor, whichever of his snivelling followers house this was, shackled to the tall-backed, velvet upholstered chair.
âYou do,â heâd smiled smoothly, sipping his red wine, eyes drinking you in with something like amusement. âYou think Iâm handsome, you canât deny that,â he added with a smirk. Your cheeks bloomed red and you scoffed, looking down at your shackled hand, the other free to allow you to eat. Heâs right, you canât deny it, youâre aware of his skill at legilimency and youâre sure he has watched a few of the dreams youâd had since youâd got here and been told you were to marry him a few weeks ago. Filthy dreams about what your wedding night might look like, how rough he might be with you or how gentle. Later that night, a dream of him bending you over this very dining table, unaware of how close he had been to really doing so. Avoiding his eye, you continued.
âThat is hardly enough to base a marriage on,â
âI have known marriages based on less,â he mused. âYou will like it more than you think,â The smile that followed those words stirred your stomach in a way you donât wish to try to interpret.
The wedding is a few days later. The decor in the manor is much darker than the decor for a usual wedding might be, feeling more mournful than anything else. It fits your mood, although from what you gather itâs merely an aesthetic consideration for the death eaters that put the event together. Your dress is beaded in intricate designs, black beads twisting around a white silk base, painting a design of thorns and roses across the fabric that almost reminds you of chains. Beautiful chains. How very fitting. Your veil is black, as is the bouquet of roses you are given to carry down the aisle. You wonder who designed everything, it was beautiful, presumably one of the death eaterâs wives who had an otherwise unused eye for aesthetics. Bellatrix, the only relative you have around, is the one to walk you down the aisle, holding your arm oppressively the whole way. She is clearly bitter that she is not in your shoes, but still eager to please Riddle, who waits, standing tall and proud in front of all his death eaters in a pressed, pitch-black suit.
When you reach him, he slides his arm around your back and holds you tight, making sure you couldnât possibly leave if you tried. Heâs never touched you before, his hand is cold, large and imposing, making you want to lean in and away all at once. You are not asked to recite any vows or to say âI doâ, the decision has been made for you. Once Riddle has agreed that he will take you as his wife, he turns you toward him by your waist and lifts your veil carefully, tutting at your unhappy expression underneath. He cups your chin and tilts your face up, leaning down to kiss you to seal your marriage. The kiss is forceful and possessive, but despite yourself, you lean in just a little, heat shooting through your veins as his lips press to yours. He is handsome and powerful, and as much as you want to resist, as much as you hate all he stands for, your body is weak. His fingers tighten into your dress, gripping the small of your back. You know what it means. Youâre his now.Â
Riddle keeps you held captive at his side throughout the reception as he talks and drinks with his followers. You can tell from the way they glance at you at his side, that they are as confused as you are about why he chose you to be his bride and not one of the many willing girls and women amongst his followers, but have clearly been told not to dare question his decision. Trying your best to distract yourself, you play with the wedding ring on your finger. A thin serpentine silver band winding around your ring finger, inset with emeralds and black star sapphire. Once again, you wonder who might have picked it out for you. Surely, not Riddle himself? To your surprise, Riddle also wears a wedding band. A plain one with a subtle carving of a serpent, complimenting yours without being anywhere near as ostentatious. Itâs a surprise that he would want to advertise himself as being married, you hadnât expected it, but you arenât sure what to make of it, so you donât dwell. At least the food at the beginning of the reception had been delicious, and the cake your favourite flavour, decorated with the same thorny patterns as your dress.Â
You find yourself incredibly annoyed to stand around and listen to these men talk and laugh, wanting to retreat to your room, despite knowing what will follow. Itâs your wedding night, and Riddle made it clear that he expects you to comply with traditional wedding night activities with him. At first, you were angry and disgusted, but now you just feel like you want to get to it as soon as possible, only to get it over and done with. His ever-present hand on your waist or lower back doesnât help this feeling. Finally, once he is also sick of listening to his followers' drivel, he guides you out of the hall in which the wedding was held and up the stairs, not towards your quarters, but his own. Youâre tense as you walk, knowing what is drawing ever closer and closer. His hand softly rubs your waist as he escorts you, presumably trying to ease a little of your tension, not wanting your apprehension to ruin his wedding night.Â
Sitting down on the edge of his bed, which was somehow even larger than the one in the room youâd been staying in, you watch him loosen the tie at his neck, pouring himself a little champagne.Â
âWant any, darling?â he smirks, sipping the drink, his eyes roaming the flattering figure your dress gave you. Part of you wondered whether you should drink to numb the experience, but all the same, you wanted your faculties about you. You shake your head silently and he shrugs. âLater then,â Once his drink is finished, he comes to sit beside you. You stiffen as his cold hands gather up your hair and move it out of the way, fingertips brushing the bare skin of your back. He waits a moment before popping the first clasp on your back. Goosebumps erupt across your skin and your muscles tighten, drawing in a breath. âYouâre surprisingly willing, I told you that youâd like this more than you thought,â he ponders aloud with a hint of teasing, continuing to pop the clasps down your back. âI almost miss the fight,â he slips the sleeve of the dress off of your shoulder and bites down gently on the bare flesh. âAlmost,â
The feeling of the cold air of the room meeting your skin sends a fit of shivers through you, the fabric of the dress pooling at your waist and baring your breasts to the air, your nipples hardening to peaks in an instant. Riddle hums, watching like a hawk over your shoulder, his hands caressing your skin just beneath your breasts, drawing yet another shiver from you. He slowly bites up and down your shoulder, not enough to hurt, but enough to make you gasp, to leave behind small possessive marks. His warm chest presses to your bare back, the soft fabric of his dress shirt brushing against your skin, his suit jacket shed much earlier in the evening.Â
âWhat has you so willing now, darling? You were so⌠incensed before,â he taunts, just gently brushing his thumbs on the underside of your breasts, his breath tickling your neck.Â
âI just want to get it over with,â you mumble, observing as his large hands move across your skin. He chuckles.
âIâm sure,â he hums, clearly not believing you. You wouldnât believe you either. âBe a good girl and stand for me,â Very hesitantly, and fighting against several tonnes of pride, you rise to your feet, jolting as he gently eases your dress down over your hips, taking caution not to rip the dress or damage the beading. Once it passes the swell of your hips, it falls easily to the ground, leaving you in only a pair of panties. You remain facing away from him, too sheepish to turn. His fingertips trace the edge of the material on your hips, down to your rear. You twitch away from his touch and he tuts. âCome now, youâre only prolonging this,â he gently grips your hips, guiding you back toward the bed, his hands skimming over you as he twists you around and lays you down against the pillows. Staring up at him, you notice a disconcerting predatory look in his eyes, despite the otherwise uncharacteristic softness in his expression. Even more bothersome is the way your stomach flips upon seeing it. He crawls up the bed to loom over you, a smirk decorating his handsome face. âSuch a pretty picture you are, my beautiful bride,â he husks, leaning down to nip at your pulse point. You close your eyes. Bride. You couldnât believe that word was real. This time, you feel the bite of his teeth and you know heâs leaving a proper mark. A whimper leaves your throat despite your reservations and you feel him grin against your skin, pleased to have evidence of your enjoyment of this, despite your performative protestations.
You keep your eyes closed as you feel him withdraw from you, hearing the rustle of fabric as he removes his dress shirt and the clank of metal as he reaches for his belt. Your thighs clench as the reality of whatâs coming washes over you properly. Despite everything that you know should have you running for the hills, you are curious, too curious for your own good. So curious that when you feel his fingers hooking into the fabric of your underwear and beginning to softly tug downward, you wordlessly lift your hips and allow him to bare you to his gaze. He growls softly, presumably noticing the arousal that has gathered as he spreads your legs.Â
âYou donât like me, darling?â he scoffs, repeating your words from a few days before.
âNo,â you murmur. He brushes his thumb against your lower lip, which makes you part them obediently and clench around nothing. He notices your reaction instantly and gives a smug laugh.
âYou are a terrible liar,â he purrs, placing his thumb on your tongue. âI think you like me very much,â he watches, enraptured, as you suckle on his thumb for the briefest of moments before you collect yourself once more.Â
âI do not,â you protest weakly, finally opening your eyes to look up at him again, but you know you arenât remotely convincing. âThere is a difference between liking and lusting,â you huff. He rolls his eyes, though he looks amused.
âI suppose that is true, Iâll give you that,â he hums, using his now moist thumb to come down and begin gently circling your clit, drawing a ragged gasp from you. âYou donât like me, but right now, I reckon all that matters is lust, donât you, darling?â Your head falls to the side as you avoid his knowing gaze, breaths coming short as he continues his intoxicating circles, the sensation enhanced by how worked up he has you. Your hips squirm lightly and he just seems to find it entertaining. You hear the rustle of fabric once more but pay it no mind, eyes fluttering shut at the syrupy pleasure heâs providing you.
You shoot up in surprise when you feel him prodding softly at your entrance, your eyes flying open to meet his. He shushes you gently, pushing you back down to lie and despite yourself, you go. His thumb never stops circling, making you more compliant than usual. Heâs hot and hard against you and it makes you moan. Itâs awful to realise just how badly you want him to press inside.
âYou knew it was coming, just relax, we donât want it to hurt, do we?â he soothes with his slightly patronising tone, but you just give a shaky nod. âThere we go, you can be so good when you want to be,â he coos. After a few more calming circles on your clit, heâs pressing inside of you slowly. Your eyes roll back and your lips part, your walls fluttering as you do your best to accommodate him. He shifts, looming over you even more, propping his hand at the side of your head to support his weight.Â
His eyes are dark as he stares down at you, growling in pleasure, finally inside of you like he has wished to be for so long. All those years of your infuriating scheming and fighting, only to end up a whimpering mess beneath him in your marital bed. The grin that graces his lips is downright devilish. He has you where he wants you, completely, rocking his hips a few times to draw those rousing mewls from your lips once more. Your hand grips his arm, the cool metal of your wedding band digging into his skin. Finally, he has you here and youâre willing, no matter what you assert. The sinful pleasure heâs giving you feels like sweet revenge as he begins to fuck into you properly, hips slamming into yours, slick sounds filling the room, claiming you entirely, consummating your marriage. The marriage you had claimed not to want, but never once tried to disrupt as it happened.
âYou know what I think, darling?â he grunts, you donât answer with anything other than a cry of pleasure as he angles himself to thrust even deeper inside you. âI think you do like me, and you will forever, whether you want to or not,â
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A small priest drabble. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx
Summary: The reader always imagines being touched by Priest Riddle, something he finally does when she confesses her sins.
Warnings: 18+, dubcon, smut, being touched for the first time, virgin!reader, religious setting
Pairing: Priest!Tom Riddle x fem!reader (1.6k words)
âHeâs so good looking, isnât he?â She had her eyes set on him as her friend whispered the words, unable to bite down a giggle. He was indeed good looking, towering over all others like a statue of a godlike figure, drawing all eyes towards him wherever he went.
âStop it!â (Y/n) tugged on her friendâs wrist with a laugh, not wanting to gain the attention of the tall priest who was now looking at the two young women from afar. She shot him a soft smile before turning from him, knowing that heat was crawling up her body like water rising higher and higher, set on drowning her in the sinful longing she felt.
âOh god, heâs coming over.â (Y/n)âs eyes snapped towards Priest Riddleâs frame, watching him push through the crowd of people, mumbling words she couldnât hear. The burning down sun coated him in a soft light, adding an aurora that perfectly contrasted his black suit.
âAfternoon, (y/n), Mandy.â His raspy voice made her clench her thighs, grateful that she was wearing a long dress that hid most parts of her body from his intense gaze. She didnât hear the words her friend mumbled, leaving (y/n) alone with the tall priest.
âYour mother told me you made those brownies?â He took a step closer as he spoke, letting her take in the scent of his cologne. She struggled to focus on his words, having to scream at herself not to get lost in thoughts God would curse her for.
âI did, Priest Riddle.â Her soft smile left him chuckling. Two necklaces dangled from his neck, a cross and what appeared to be a dark rosary she hadnât seen him wear so far, drawing her eyes towards them as if they were a swinging pendulum foretelling her future.
âWell, theyâre heavenly, sweetheart.â Priest Riddleâs hand found her wrist, softly squeezing the warm skin. The touch sent a buzzing sensation down her spine, making goosebumps rise on her arms and neck as if she was freezing. He was a God, a man so powerful and intimidating, she still wondered how she managed to speak a single word to him.
âThank you, that means a lot coming from you.â Another raspy laugh left him. A sound that reminded her of last nightâs wandering thoughts, where she imagined him holding her close, whispering words no man had ever said to her.
âDo you still want me to take your confession tonight?â No longer could she hold eye contact, struck by the nervousness she couldnât shake. It had been a stupid mistake, asking him to take her sins from her - sins he was the cause of. A foolish mistake to speak those words to him, knowing that sheâd have to tell him of the things she imagined him doing to her.
âOh, I donât know.â His hand squeezed her wrist again, forcing her eyes back to him. Priest Riddleâs eyes wandered over her features, taking in every spot she always tried to hide.
âI have time, why donât we do it now? The others are busy anyway.â He didnât give her a chance to say no. With a smile playing on his lips, that somehow had a sinister touch to it, he pulled (y/n) from the church gathering, and towards another part of the big garden.
âArenât we doing it in the confessional?â It took him a moment to reply as he led her towards a bench that was surrounded by tall growing flowers. No longer could she see the others, hidden from curious eyes and nosy ears that tried to take in everything people spoke in the church.
âWhy a confessional when we are surrounded by Godâs finest creations. So, speak to me, (y/n). What lies heavy on your heart?â Her nervousness robbed her of her breath, forcing her eyes to snap down to his hand which was now resting on her knee. Priest Riddle had never touched her like this, he had always kept his distance as if he knew what she was thinking of late at night - a teasing distance she had always cursed. Up until today.
âI, well,â she heavily swallowed, focused on the patterns his thumb was drawing into the fabric of her dress. Heat simmered in (y/n)âs stomach, threatening to spill through her system like sacred wine staining the white cloth covering their altar, leaving stains that may never fade again. âI have sinful thoughts.â
âWhat kind of thoughts, (y/n)?â She could tell that he was enjoying this, the way she shuffled around on her spot, how she kept staring at his hand, how she had to stop her hand from touching him.
âAbout being touched.â It was just a whisper, rolling off her tongue before she could stop herself. She was sure that her face was hot, leaving her shaking while his grasp on her knee grew tighter.
âTouched how?â His tongue kissed his teeth before his smile grew wider, dripping with a darkness that left her shaking. He had her trapped, there was no way out of Priest Riddleâs grasp on her body and soul. âLike this?â
His hand wandered up her thigh, softly stroking the fabric while she buried her teeth in her lower lip. (Y/n) could only shake her head, knowing that she would struggle to explain to him how she imagined him touching her, unfamiliar with all these kinds of sensations.
âTake my hand, show me where, (y/n).â Her hand was shaking, trembling while finding his warm, big one. He interlaced his fingers with hers as she let go of a shaky breath. And with her eyes flickering up to his darkening ones, (y/n) brought his hand up her thigh, towards her clothed heat. The raspy chuckle ripping through him made her straighten her spine, wondering what heâd do to her.
âHave you ever been touched before, sweetheart?â (Y/n) once again shook her head.
A soft gasp left her as his fingers pressed against her core, teasing her through the layers of clothing. Her left hand found the edge of the bench, needing to hold onto something, while the other found his wrist. She didnât move his hand away, only kept holding onto him as if she had to make sure that this wasnât just a dream.
âYou see, (y/n), this is nothing sinful, nothing you need to be ashamed of.â His fingers pressed against her bundle of nerves, making a quiet moan claw through her. Guided by his chuckles and her gasps, he added more pressure to his touch.
âTell me what you think of, (y/n). What do you feel when you think of being touched?â His voice grew lower, adding a raspy layer sheâd never forget about again. With her breath hitched in her chest, she let him spread her thighs further, giving his hand more room to rest between them.
âIt makes me crave more, I feel light, loved by you.â It left her before she could stop the word from being spoken out loud. She felt his eyes on her face, drawing her eyes to him to study the sinister smile that grew more dangerous by the second. The words had pushed her into a grave, a grave she had dug for herself and will never be able to crawl out of again.
âYou imagine me doing it?â A nod was thrown his way before another moan left her. Her body was tingling, focused on the way he moved his fingers faster, making her panties grow damp. She had never managed to go further than this, pulling her fingers from her panties before she could fall over the edge, scared of what was awaiting her.
But today she wasnât scared. Today she craved the sensation she had read about many times before. A part of her had hoped that sheâd experience the first one with him, a slim chance that had now suddenly turned all too real.
âYou know, I think of touching you too, sweetheart. I crave to hear those sweet sounds you make, I wonder how soft your skin will feel beneath my fingers, I touch myself to the thought of fucking you.â The gasp that ripped through her was loud, louder than intended. But Priest Riddle didnât stop touching her, he only added more pressure, forcing her hand to find his forearm to claw her fingernails into his skin.
She could tell that the high was close, about to claw through her as if the Devil himself was possessing her, leading her straight towards the fiery pits. But sheâd take it all, every high and low - if it meant being touched like this by Priest Riddle.
âMy sweet girl, there is much I will have to teach you. But youâll be a good girl for me, wonât you?â The âYes, Priest Riddleâ she sobbed was violent, shaking through (y/n) while her body finally let go.
The sensation was blinding, making spots appear in her vision while his fingers kept moving, lazily circling her pulsing bundle while she rode out her first orgasm. Her body emenated heat, wrapping itself around the two while their minds held onto the sinful act they had just committed. Sins both would confess the next time they found themselves on their knees praying.
âCome by tomorrow evening for your next confession, sweetheart. And donât forget your rosary.â
Listen, this is fucked up â even I was unsure where this came from. But I ain't sorry for it, I know y'all will love this, you filthy heathen (i love you). Shamelessly inspired by the song "The Fruits" by Paris Paloma. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx
Summary: Her mother accuses the reader of preparing a satanic ritual, so she hopes that Priest Riddle can free the young girl from the devil's grasp. What a shame that the young priest is even more cunning than the Devil himself.
Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, smut in a church, heavy dub!con, choking, wax play, blood play, Tom being Tom, religious connotations
Pairing: Priest!Tom Riddle x fem!reader (about 2k words)
My love, are you the devil? I would worship you instead of him, I have no time for confession, for I'm too busy committing sins
âPriest Riddle!â Her motherâs shrill voice echoed through the empty church, repeated with every further step she took. (Y/n) struggled against her motherâs grasp, feet dragged along the cold ground as if she prayed that the floor would open up, that something or someone would crawl from the eternal darkness to hold onto her, rescue her from the hell she would experience any moment now. âPriest Riddle!â
The tall man appeared after another loud call of his name, concern tugged on his features, a facade her mother instantly seemed to buy into; a facade (y/n) instantly saw through. Priest Riddle was a devilish handsome man, a man so handsome he easily fooled those who clung to him, distracting them from his sinful character.Â
âMathilda, (y/n), what is going on?â His bright eyes carried concern as he looked at (y/n)âs mother, concern that changed into something dark the second his gaze found (y/n)âs. Her motherâs torture was nothing against what heâd do to her, that much she was certain of after all those confessions she had been forced through â confessions that had ended with her knees having a carpet burn, with her ass bruised, and her jaw pulsing in pain from being stretched open.Â
âSheâs gone insane, Iâve found her worshipping the devil! He has his dark grasp on her, oh you have to free my girl, youâre my only chance of finding help for her sinning soul, Father!â Tears dripped from her motherâs eyes, tears (y/n) silently cursed. She had done no such thing, all she had done was read a book Priest Riddle had borrowed her, one of the few interests both shared â Latin prayers her mother had mistaken for satanic rituals as (y/n) had tried to pronounce the words.Â
For a second, he studied (y/n), the annoyance she couldnât shake, the wide pupils he had grown all too used to, feeling his cock twitch in his trousers at the excitement now thumping through his veins. âLeave her with me, Mathilda. Sheâs in good hands. Iâll take care of our girl.â
"Angelâ he calls me, does he know that I'm falling from a precipice that I tripped off long ago?
âRituals, huh?â Her mother had left the church seconds ago, leaving the two of them behind. (Y/n)âs skin prickled, she was fighting against the need to scream, to throw a tantrum against her motherâs foolish behaviour. All because of him.Â
âThis is your fault! She heard me read that prayer book of yours.â Within seconds he stood in front of her, ringed hand wrapped around her throat. Her heart was pounding, blood rushing through her veins, he could feel (y/n)âs fast pulse against his fingertips, a sensation that left the man smirking.Â
âMy fault?â The way he spoke the words, with a voice so raspy and deep, (y/n) didnât manage to stop her body from reacting, her thighs from trembling and her walls from clenching around nothing. For a few moments, neither of them spoke, all they did was stare at one another. âMy fault, really, (y/n)?â
âI,â her words got stuck in her throat as he squeezed, cutting off her strength to pronounce any words. Priest Riddle always enjoyed silencing her, showing her how much power he held over her. (Y/n) was shoved backwards as he let go of her, watching her fall onto the stone stairs leading up to the altar.Â
âYou see, (y/n), your mother may think Iâm the saving grace, the voice of reason, but I think you know better, donât you? There is no saving left for you, no grace I can give you. The Devil would have tried to save you, what a shame that Iâm not him.â Angry tears welled up in her eyes, tears that began to drip as a laugh clawed through him. There was no escaping him, no matter how much her mind begged her to run, to never return to these unholy walls, her body craved his touch, desperate for everything he could offer.Â
âUndress, lay down on the altar, for me.â It took (y/n) a second to snap into motion, to undo the buttons of her dress with shaky fingers. Not once did her glassy eyes leave his frame, not as she stood naked, not as she slowly heaved herself onto the altar, not as she watched him alight the red candle placed next to the Holy Bible.
âDo you remember what John teaches us, (y/n)? He tells us: Whoever makes a practice of sinning is of the devil, for the devil has been sinning from the beginning. But tonight you will sin, tonight you will offer yourself to the devil, even though he will never have you. He fears me, and he will fear my precious toy once Iâm done with you.â
âIn nomine Patris et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti. Amen.â He was standing behind the altar, with his ringed fingers holding onto the burned candle. (Y/n) was forced to watch him tilt the candle, letting the wax drip down onto the valley between her naked breasts. She hissed at the sensation, torn between excitement and fear, and yet she craved more.Â
âPrinceps gloriosissime caelestis militiae, sancte Michael Archangele, defende nos in proelio adversus principes et potestates, adversus mundi rectores tenebrarum harum, contra spiritalia nequitiae, in caelestibus.â Priest Riddleâs voice didnât carry any emotion as he spoke the lines of the prayer to Saint Michael, a prayer used in exorcisms, a prayer he used to mock her now. The candle kept dripping, one by one the drops of wax marked her body, leaving (y/n) moaning as his cold hand joined the wax, touching her hardening nipples with a smirk growing on his lips.Â
âVeni in auxilium hominum, quos Deus ad imaginem similitudinis suae fecit, et a tyrannide diaboli emit pretio magno. Te custodem et patronum sancta veneratur Ecclesia; tibi tradidit Dominus animas redemptorum in superna felicitate locandas.â No longer did (y/n) try to keep her moans bottled in, she arched her back off the altar as he added more strength to his touch, tweaking her nipples as the wax dripped onto her stomach. It felt as if he was making an offering, sacrificing (y/n) for the sins they had committed together, giving her up for his eternal salvation.Â
âDeprecare Deum pacis, ut conterat Satanam sub pedibus nostris, ne ultra valeat captivos tenere homines, et Ecclesiae nocere. Offer nostras preces in conspectu Altissimi, ut cito anticipent nos misericordiae Domini, et apprehendas draconem, serpentem antiquum, qui est diabolus et Satanas, et ligatum mittas in abyssum, ut non seducat amplius gentes. Amen.â The last drop of wax fell as Priest Riddle ended the prayer, tossing the blown-out candle aside to press his lips against (y/n)âs. Both moaned in unison as her fingers began to work on his belt, needing to free his cock with the silent hope that heâd fuck her on the altar spurring her on.Â
He twitched in her grasp, a sensation so familiar, she found herself relaxing, giving her mind a few seconds to relax. Seconds he used to study her with danger laced in his gaze, danger that deepened as her eyes were drawn to his throat, watching him rip his silvery necklace from his neck. The necklace twinkled in the dim light, momentarily entrancing (y/n) as if she was studying a rare gem, an offering only God would make.Â
âWe have been bound together for months, you are my possession, and you will do as I say, you will let me lead you till I no longer think youâre worthy of my time.â He tightened his grasp on his necklace, and without another warning, he ran the sharp edge of the cross along his skin, instantly drawing blood. Blood so red, it looked like sacred wine, richer than Jesusâ blood, more powerful than any other offering.
He wiped his bleeding thumb along her lips, letting her taste the copper staining her skin like a tattoo made for eternity. They held eye contact as she parted her lips, letting her tongue lick his skin clean, unable to stop her moan from clawing out of her. She was nothing but a toy, someone he used to pass time with, someone to fuck whenever his body called for excitement â and she loved it, every fucked up second of their time together.Â
Priest Riddle let go of her to position himself between her thighs, his fingertips dug into her skin as he wrapped her legs around his waist. Soon heâd fuck her, soon heâd remind her that she was his â his only.Â
You're faithless, for you pitched me, against your holy father and it seems that I am winning
Without giving (y/n) any chance to prepare herself, he pushed into her, forcing his cock into her tightness. Her arousal allowed him to move without any struggles, moving as if their bodies had been made for one another. In some fucked up way she could have found something romantic in this, claimed in a church for all holy and unholy eyes to see, but the darkness he emanated was enough to keep her from thinking these thoughts.Â
Months ago when this had happened for the first time, (y/n) had been frightened, not knowing what the man would do to her. But after the first of many orgasms had wrecked through her, she had felt like Judas, the backstabber, the liar she had been turned into. No longer held back by the fear of sinning, rather giving in â all for the promise of being punished by Priest Riddle.Â
âEven the devil wouldnât take you in, a soul filled with sins that even He would turn his back on. Iâm your only rescue.â He panted his words as he buried himself deep inside of her, eyes staring down at her. Without stopping his movements, his hips from snapping against hers, he pushed the cross past her lips, forcing her to hold it between her teeth. (Y/n) could still taste his blood â heightening her senses as her walls fluttered around him.Â
She hated herself for enjoying this, for being at his mercy with her legs spread and her back arched. He only spoke the truth, he was her only chance of guidance, the only one to cling to as the others had left her behind, engulfed in darkness. Her saving grace, the poison she was addicted to, the bruising grasp she couldnât shake.Â
âCum for me, show them that there is no chance of rescuing you from me.â With the cross held between her teeth, she moaned for him. (Y/n)âs orgasm wrecked through her, leaving her shaking and panting beneath him. But the priest kept moving, searching his own high with his fingertips digging into her skin.Â
A heavy moan rumbled through Priest Riddle as he came, imprinting himself on her walls without giving her a warning. Once again marked by the man who called her his own property, once again marked by the devilâs most brutal brother.Â
âI need you on your knees, itâs time to beg for His forgiveness, (y/n).âÂ
âŚâŚ
Translation of the Latin prayer:Â
St. Michael the Archangel, illustrious leader of the heavenly army, defend us in the battle against principalities and powers, against the rulers of the world of darkness and the spirit of wickedness in high places.
Come to the rescue of mankind, whom God has made in His own image and likeness, and purchased from Satan's tyranny at so great a price.
Holy Church venerates you as her patron and guardian. The Lord has entrusted to you the task of leading the souls of the redeemed to heavenly blessedness.
Entreat the Lord of peace to cast Satan down under our feet, so as to keep him from further holding man captive and doing harm to the Church.
Carry our prayers up to God's throne, that the mercy of the Lord may quickly come and lay hold of the beast, the serpent of old, Satan and his demons, casting him in chains into the abyss, so that he can no longer seduce the nations. Amen.
flesh and blood of tom (tom riddle your priest headcanons) đ
"Oh, my, he's wasted for a priest," old ladies whispers as he arrives to your small town. The first time you lay eyes on him, you understand why. He's beautiful. He stands tall, with black hair and piercing eyes. His name's Tom.
Many can say he looks like an angel, but for you it's different. To you, he looks like death draped in a black soutane, his face pale. And if, by chance, death indeed bears his face, it could be considered a benevolent act of God, you think.
It is said that Father Tom knows the Bible by heart. When you asked him for his favourite quote once, he responded
"For God knows that when you eat from it, your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil."
and you never forget that. It sticked to your heart, even if you didn't quite understand. At least then.
Father Tom is smart, also adept at charming people, you notice. Everyone seems to be drawn to him, even close-minded old ladies, who initially kept their distance are now drawn to this young and bright man, as they say. You are charmed too, of course, but you remind yourself he's not just a man; he's a priest. He offered his heart to God and you don't want to come between that, yet you can't help but think about Father Tom, more often that you should.
During one of Father Tom's remarkable sermons, he delves into the topic of the original sin and Eve's temptation. As he speaks, his gaze lingers on you for a moment. Or perhaps you merely imagined it. Your cheeks flush with colour.
"Lord, forgive me, for I have sinned," you murmur in the confessional, your gaze fixed on the ground. "I've had...inappropriate thoughts about a man." The words barely escape your lips, laden with shame. Yet, it's not the judgment of God that troubles you; it's the imagined judgement of Father Tom. What would he think if he knew how sinful you are? If he could delve into your mind, he'd surely find you tainted, unworthy. And you didn't want that, never.
However, if you could see his expression at that moment, you would detect a subtle flicker in his eyes, a delicate smile playing on the corner of his mouth. You were the helpless mouse, while he was a cat, playful, yet cruel. With sharp claws. He wanted you tainted, he wanted you unworthy. Actually, he wouldn't want you any other way.
When Father Tom places the communion on your tongue, you feel a gentle pressure, the slightest touch from his finger. It last a mere moment, but it lingers in your thoughts. In the quiet of the night, with all lights turned off, you find yourself fantasising about his fingers on your tongue- exploring your mouth, going deeper and deeper. A strange fire ignites in your abdomen, a sensation that both excites and frightens you. This can't be right, it feels too good to be right so you spend the night on your knees, praying for forgiveness.
"You look like you're carrying a burden. Don't hesitate to confide in me, my child," Father Tom says, his eyes kind, his expression filled with genuine concern. You've been attempting to avoid him for some time now, attending church while keeping your distance, for the greater good. His presence makes you uneasy, stirring something within you. Yet, his words are sincere, and they touch you deeply. In an instant, your internal struggles seem to dissipate, leaving your heart feeling light. He cares about you. He notices you.
"I... I can't, Father," you stammered, glancing down, unable to meet his gaze. "I'm afraid of what you might think of me."
Tom's expression softened, his eyes filled with understanding. "My dear, I'm here for you always. Your fears and troubles are not meant to be carried alone. If speaking now is too daunting, we can have your confession later in the evening when the church is quiet. There, it'll be just you, me, and the grace of God to guide us. You're not alone in this, my child. You're never alone."
"Lord, forgive me, for I have sinned,â you murmur, the church enveloping you in its quiet embrace. Your hands tremble. "My child, God's mercy is boundless. Confide in me, let the weight on your soul be lifted."
You swallow hard, the words hesitant as they leave your lips. "Father, it's just... I've been having impure thoughts, and they haunt my every moment."
Tom sees that you are shattered, yet he presses you harder, his voice calm. "My child, you must share the nature of these thoughts. Only through confession can we find redemption." You hesitate, reluctant to voice the forbidden desires that torment you. Tom, with a calculated softness, says, "For the sake of your soul and God's mercy, be open, my child. Let the truth be your salvation."
Tears well in your eyes as you confess in a hushed tone, "It's about you, Father Tom. I can't control these thoughts, and they consume me."
World felt silent for a moment. The confession hangs in the air, the weight of your words pressing down on you. Panic surges within, and the overwhelming urge to escape grips your every step. As you manage to leave the confessional, he stands there, waiting. Eyes full of need and desire.
The air thickens with tension, and before you can react, he cups your face and presses his lips against yours. You never knew sin could taste so sweet.
︾âżď¸ľâżŕ¨âĄŕ§âżď¸ľâżď¸ľ
 you can find more of my works about tom âĄhereâĄ
one of my favourite books are "the thorn birds" by Colleen McCullough and "the devil all the time" by Donald Ray Polloc so I knew i had it in me to write something like this eventually (also obsessed about fleabag duhhh)
also! notice that I just write for fun and with no intention to cause harm to anybody. love you all x
I desperately needed to get this out of my system, I ain't sorry for that. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx
Summary: The reader's mother had begged Priest Riddle to let the reader join his bible study, a bratty woman who wanted to make his life a living hell. Now it was time to finally teach her a lesson.
Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, oral (m), face fucking, man handling, spanking, religious connotations, Tom being Tom
Pairing: Priest!Tom Riddle x fem!reader (2k words)
âHow can you possibly believe that?â Her laughter echoed through the room, bouncing off the walls as if demons were carrying the sound. All eyes were focused on her, wide eyes that trembled with fear because of the blasphemous words she kept on speaking. But she didnât care about them, didnât even remember their names, no, all she cared about was the pair of dark pupils staring her down.Â
âExcuse me?â His voice was sharp, urged on by the need to put her in her place. All other eyes snapped back to him, lowering their gazes in fear of the priest who was known for punishing those who didnât dare listen. But she didnât fear him, taunting him whenever their paths crossed.Â
âOh, donât give me that. You and I both know you donât believe in any of that yourself. Turning water into wine? Thatâs witchcraft, and witches should be burned, according to your little storybook at least.â Gasps followed her words, sounds that left (y/n) grinning as if she was the Devil herself, joining the bible study to make it a living hell for those who desperately clung to their belief. For a few seconds, he didnât speak up, holding eye contact with her from his spot, but as she parted her lips to speak, once again set on laughing words she shouldnât pronounce, he cleared his throat.Â
âWeâll end our session here, I need to have a word with (y/n), alone.â She tried not to pay the heat his words shot through her any attention, trying not to squeeze her thighs together as she watched him rise to her feet. Neither of them spoke a word as the others hurriedly left the room, closing the door to give the two some privacy. Her eyes didnât leave his frame once, the tall figure sheâd imagine whenever she let her hands wander, chasing that high she was desperate for. Priest Riddle was dangerously handsome, fooling anybody whenever he wasnât wearing his collar.
And yet she knew it was nothing more than a game, a game whose rules he was making. But she had never been good at following rules, set on breaking them like branches snapping beneath her shoes.Â
âI wasnât optimistic when your mother begged me to let you join, you know? I knew youâd only cause me more problems. But I promised your mother to try, to give you a chance. Well let me tell you, (y/n), Iâve never been a patient man. I think itâs time you learn a lesson.â The chuckle rumbling through her left him smirking, something she clearly didnât understand fully to anticipate what heâd do to her tonight.Â
âA lesson? What, should I fall to my knees and pray ten Hail Maryâs?â He crossed the room towards (y/n) with fast steps, hand shooting out to grasp her throat before she could flinch away. A shaky gasp left her at the touch, feeling his cold rings burn into her skin. Priest Riddle stared her down as if she was now living through her last judgment, set on taking her down to hell with him.
âA prayer wonât help you no more, God doesnât answer the calls of sinners like you. The only one youâll pray to will be me.â She was forced to her feet for a second, lips parted to let an excited sigh leave her. This is what she had been working for, knowing that he would eventually give in, eventually cross that line he had sworn to stay away from. But even a priest had his enemies, the carnal sin calling his name in quiet hours.Â
âLet's hope your mouth knows what itâs doing. Onto your knees, let me fuck those bratty words out of you.â She could have sworn that his eyes grew darker as he spoke the words, watching her drop to her knees without a single protest leaving her. âI should have known, youâll enjoy whatever Iâm doing to you. Itâs all about the power you think you have, forcing me to do something I promise I never would. Let me tell you, (y/n), even priests can beg for forgiveness, and forgiveness He shall always grant me.â
For the first time since meeting Priest Riddle, she felt some fear swapping through her, wondering if she was finally burning from the reckless play with fire. It was an unfamiliar sensation, yet so awfully exciting, she could only stare up at him with a smirk.Â
He did quick work of his trousers, freeing his hard cock from the confines of his clothes. He was beautiful, a man crafted by God, what a shame he was destined to hide away beneath the black suits he wore. (Y/n) followed his ringed fingers, how he grasped his cock to push himself closer to (y/n).Â
âOpen that mouth of yours, letâs see how much you can take.â It was a dangerous game, and yet (y/n) had always lived for the thrill. She parted her lips, tongue exposed to his dark eyes. Within seconds he had forced his cock into her mouth, to the back of her throat. She gagged around him, had her vision instantly blurred by tears.Â
Without waiting for any commands, she hallowed her cheeks, letting her tongue explore his cock for a moment before he began to move. Priest Riddleâs ringed hand found the back of her head, holding her in place as he fucked her mouth, high on the sound of her gasps, chokes, sounds heâd forever remember. She was a pretty sacrifice, worth the trouble she had forced him through, that much he was certain of.Â
âHow can there be no God when we get to experience something like this?â His raspy voice left her shuddering, words she could barely focus on, too concentrated on the feeling of his cock fucking her mouth. No other man had ever been this rough with her, and yet she knew that she had been addicted to Priest Riddle from the first day, hoping that theyâd eventually end up like this.Â
âSuch pretty sounds for a woman this dangerous, itâs amazing how you try to fool those around you.â He spat his words as he used more speed for his thrusts, enjoying her gasps a tad bit too much, wanting to force his cock down her throat. But he wouldnât give in, no, heâd only give in when he was buried inside of her, fucking her into oblivion. Perhaps sheâd find her way back to God when he showed her the entry to the pearly gates, torn between two worlds as he fucked her breathless.Â
Spit dripped from her chin, making a mess on the dark carpet she was kneeling on. She was desperate for some friction, trying to shuffle closer, and yet he didnât allow her to go far, held in place by his tight grasp. Their eyes met, his full of danger, hers full of desperation, begging the man to finally pull her to her knees, to fuck her like she needed him to.Â
âDo you think you deserve to be touched? Do you think you deserve to cum? I should have known youâll turn into a cock-hungry whore the second I touch you.â A gasp left (y/n) as he pulled away, forcing her to her feet seconds later. She was pushed towards the black leather couch, trying to sit down though it seemed as if she was too slow for him. With his hand finding its way back to her hair, Tom manhandled her down onto the couch, drawing an excited moan from (y/n).Â
âOpen those legs, show me how wet you are from sucking my cock.â A whine left her at his words, legs spread to expose her soaked panties to him, hidden beneath her skirt. His cold fingers wandered up her legs, he shuffled her skirt up to her waist before he pushed her panties aside. The groan that left him at the sight of her bare cunt shot shudders down (y/n)âs spine, eyes close to falling shut. âLook at me, donât you dare to even think of looking away.â
His palm came down onto her cunt, spanking the soft skin with more force than anticipated. (Y/n) choked on her gasps, eyes wide as she stared up at the smirking priest. Her lungs were aching, trying to hold onto her breath as she kept choking on the air flushing through her lungs, too excited to even speak up.Â
âI canât wait to fuck you stupid, force you to take every inch.â Priest Riddleâs words were enough to leave her moaning and gasping as he flipped her around. He had her pressed against the armrest while he positioned himself behind her.
âIâm on the pill, just fuck me, please.â His raspy chuckles filled the room, leaving her walls clenching in anticipation. (Y/n) felt him brush the tip of his cock through her slit for a second before he pushed into her, her eyes instantly fell close, fingers tightening their grip on the armrest with her nails clawed into the fabric.Â
âGod should strike you down for the sinful words you speak, allowing a man to fuck you because youâre selfish, wanting to give in.â She shuddered against him, unable to speak as he fucked her. His hips snapped against her behind with every thrust, forcing himself even deeper into her cunt, enjoying the way she felt wrapped around him all too tightly.Â
âFuck, feels so good.â (Y/n) mumbled the words, not trusting herself to speak up, voice caught in the back of her throat as he fucked her breathless. This is what they have been warned of, the carnal sin, a feeling so intense only those who werenât allowed to touch one were able to make one feel.Â
âAnd for that, you will submit to me from now on, you wonât go against me no more. Youâre mine now, forever mine.â A sob clawed through (y/n), she didnât understand the depth of the words he spoke, could only choke on a âYesâ, too focused on her high to overthink the consequences sheâd have to face. Consequences of actions she had been desperate to go through with. Drunk on the feeling of her priest fucking her breathless.Â
âOh God, Iâm so close, donât stop.â Her words left him chuckling, she felt him near her ear, growling the words that were about to roll off his tongue.
âGod canât help you now.â She choked on her breaths, eyes rolling into her head as she sneaked a hand down her body. Her bundle of nerves pulsed against her fingers, giving herself the last final push to fall over the edge. The white, blinding sensation shot through her, leaving (y/n) trembling as he kept fucking her.Â
His breaths grew shallow, she felt him twitch deep inside of her, about to cum with a devilish grin glued to his lips. (Y/n) had to cling to the couch, scared sheâd faint from the intensity of her orgasm, unable to think straight as she was panting. The priest pulled out of her seconds before he came, painting her ass with his cum.Â
Wordlessly he pulled away to reach for a towel. He cleaned her with a hum leaving him, staring down at her and the fucked-out expression she wore. Only slowly did she dare to turn around, looking up at him with wide eyes. She didnât flinch as he cupped her cheek, forcing his thumb down on her tongue for a second.Â
âI expect you back here tomorrow morning, donât even dare to think that this was your only lesson.â
Voldemort x malfoy reader where heâs in desperate need for an heir so he âdoesâ the reader over the large dining table with a lot of âyes my lordâ
Love it, sorry if it took me so long đ
Yes, my Lord
â Pairing: Lord Voldemort X Malfoy!Reader
â Warnings: age gap (both off age but it's a clear big age gap), smut, HEAVY DUB-CON, public sex, p in v, wet spell (dunno if it exists but I use it every time đŹ), breeding kink, creampie... just Tom Riddle, the death eaters watch them
â Summary: The dark Lord was ready to have heirs.
â Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English. The writing is pretty shitty, 'M so sorry and it's kind of dark.
Her eyes snapped up as soon as the dark lord pronounced her name in a strange tone, she wasn't exactly following the whole monologue that the now former Tom Riddle was gifting his followers. So she was oblivious at the topic connected to her name.
As she carefully scanned the room, her father, Lucius Malfoy, spoke with a worried expression on his face âB-But⌠my lord, sheââ he tried, shutting his mouth as soon as the red eyes of the dark wizard glared slowly at him.
âI made my choice, Lucius⌠do you have anything to add?â He asked in a calm voice as he leaned closer, receiving just a head shake⌠the blonde man too scared to defend his own daughter in front of the older wizard.
When Voldemort called her name again, moving his slender fingers to indicate her to move closer.. she got up, her body shaking softly and sweating due to the fear and panic she was feeling at the worried expressions of her family.
She inhaled loudly as soon as the cold fingers of her lord brushed the side of her neck, traveling slowly down to her hips⌠making a grin appear on his face as her skin reacted with goosebump.
âY/n, Y/n, Y/n⌠my poor little dove,â Tom cooed, moving his free hand in her hair before taking a firm grip and bending her down on the wooden table, a loud thud echoing in the room.
Every gaze was now staring at them, some were concerned, others worried and complacent⌠as Y/n's eyes started filling with tears, shutting tightly as the cold slender fingers lifted the skirt of her dress so that they could rest on her covered ass cheeks.
âMy little dove, you know why I'm doing this, right?â Her lord cooed again, starting to knead her flesh harshly âI need a young cunt with a body that could carry strong heirs in it, hmâ he continued while covering her now naked lower half with his cape, which swallowed the sinful act perfectly.
The death eaters had just a perfect view of the young witchâs face which showed clear fear and worry.
They could see Tomâs hand moving under the cape, silence except for noises of metal caused by his belt hitting the floor⌠sounds that made them stare more intently.
Some started to look away while others kept focusing on them, admiring how the older man leaned down to whisper in her ear something that remained between them before her front body hit the table harshly.
A loud whimper escaped her mouth as soon as she collided with the wooden surface, her hands grabbed into whatever she could reach as an uncomfortable whimper broke the silence.
A soft light of a spell appeared from under the fabric and little time after that her whole body jolted forward, her head hitting the table as well.
Given by the dark lordâs expression of pleasure and hers of pain the dark wizards knew that was happening.
His movements were clear and the noises loud, his thick long cock kept forcing her walls open, as he pulled almost completely out so that his tip was the only thing inside of her.
Soft whimpers kept leaving her pretty mouth, tears kept running down her face wetting her young skin as she took everything her idol was giving her.
âTake itâ Voldemort hissed, holding her flat against the table while snapping his hips forward, his cock hitting her cervix in a painful but pleasurable way as hisses kept leaving his mouth.
The Parseltongue sent shivers down her spine, those hiss and smooth noises kept swirling in her head, making her wetter than usual and almost too submissive.
It was her first time, Tom knew it, and he was enjoying it way more than he should⌠his breath getting heavier and heavier as he moved faster and harder not really carrying to make her cum or her pleasure.
âGoing to take my heir!â he hissed, his tongue daring out to lick the skin of her ear shell sinfully
âIâm gonna fill⌠you.. upâ he added, speaking after each thrust, as he smirked evilly when her body started to shake due to the intense feelings.
Her mind was telling her how wrong the whole situation was while her body kept reacting positivelyâ her voice even cracked softly due to his fast thrusts⌠making it get higher while she continued to repeat the same answer as a mantra.
The young woman's eyes rolled back as her lord cupped her breasts through the fabric of her dress, squeezing and kneading them roughly to continue the now pleasant assault.. now a bit sloppier since he was reaching his own peak.
Y/n was on the same path, and after a particularly hard thrust, her body spasmed and her jaw dropped openâŚ. her walls clenched around his hard and veiny cock, allowing Tom to finally release inside of her. Thrusting his hips to get it deeper inside of her before slowly pulling out.
A soft sigh of satisfaction escaped his mouth, his slender hands moved under the cloak as well, assuring that his seed wouldnât leave her body.
Both were still breathing heavily as the young witch took a couple of deep breaths, falling slowly down, her bare knees hitting the cold floor of her family Mansion.
âLovely⌠You have such a wonderful and useful daughter, Luciusâ The dark lord murmured in a mocking tone, petting softly her hair while staring deeply in her fatherâs eyes, who was still at the table
âMake sure she will be there next week, for the next⌠encounterâ he ordered, taking a grip on her hair to move her head easily, so that her eyes could meet his piercing red ones âI will see you later, doveâ.
His voice was smooth and tempting, a contrast to the rough actions that just happened⌠his caress feeling almost soft and loving even if his stare was just communicating pure possessiveness and domination.
Go to pinterest and search: "celebrity", "outfit", "quote", "aesthetic". post with the FIRST picture in each category that appears that fits your vibe.
Prof and priest fics are without doubt my faves. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx
Summary: Another student tries to touch the reader, so Professor Riddle has to remind his TA that she is his, only his. Pwp
Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected piv, oral(m), power play, profxta
Pairing: Prof!Tom Riddle x fem!TA!reader (1.8k words)
She felt his eyes on her, watching her every move as if he was worried about her doing something wrong, messing up his classroom. No matter what she did or touched, his eyes followed her around like a shadow. A shadow sewn to his boots, unable to escape her boss, the one whose every command she blindly followed.Â
âIâll expect your papers on my desk Friday afternoon, I wonât accept any tardiness.â Professor Riddleâs voice filled the room, instantly shutting up his chatting students. All eyes were drawn to his piercing ones, staring at the tall professor who acted like their god, the deity theyâd have to worship. âIf you have any further questions, find (y/n), she can help you.â
(Y/n)âs eyes snapped towards the professor, hands freezing midair. Not once had he addressed her like that in class and told his students that she could help them out, hidden in the dark corners of the room as if he was scared to share her with them. She couldnât stop the heat from flushing through her, eyes forced back down to the book she had been combing through, highlighting the pages he had asked her to prepare.Â
âIâll see you next week.â With his last words echoing through the room, the students quickly rose to their feet, set on disappearing from the room and the professor they all feared. He watched them scurry out of the room, lips pulled into an almost satisfied smirk.Â
âDid you find the pages, (y/n)?â He leaned against the desk, arms crossed in front of his chest, no longer caring about the handful of students who were still packing their things. She could only nod, unable to meet his eyes, not when she was reminded of the way he had touched her not even twelve hours ago, once again finding comfort in one anotherâs touch.
Well, perhaps it wasnât about comfort for him, perhaps it was all about claiming her, about owning the young woman who had joined his class as a student last year and was now working for him as his teaching assistant. A power hierarchy she had always feared, not daring to overstep, at least not till he had made the first move, not giving her a way out.Â
âGood, come to my office tonight so we can prepare for next weekâs class.â
âŚâŚ
âThank you so much for your help, (y/n).â A tight smile played on her lips, trying to keep her distance from the student who had found her a few minutes ago. She had been on her way to Professor Riddleâs office, carrying the books of his she had borrowed when the guy had forced her to a halt. He had instantly dropped his questions on her, smirking at the already annoyed woman.Â
âOf course, now, if you excuse me, I need to find Professor Riddle.â She wanted to turn from him, wanting to disappear from the student who made her feel all too uncomfortable. But his hand darted out, fingers wrapped around her wrist to keep her close. Her breath hitched in her chest at the unwanted touch, eyes flickering from her wrist to his dark pupils.Â
âWhy the hurry, (y/n)? I think he can wait a few more minutes for you. Donât you find it weird how he treats you? As if youâre some toy he owns.â Her throat felt tight, mouth too dry to reply, wanting to rip herself from the manâs grasp, though without any luck. The grasp he had on her wrist only got tighter, sure to leave marks sheâd have to cover for the next days.Â
âLet me go, please.â The studentâs laugh was drowned out by the sound of fast-approaching steps, making a shadow appear behind (y/n)âs frame. Instantly the student let go of (y/n), trying to flee from the scene as Professor Riddle stared him down. Within seconds the professor had the guy pressed against the nearest wall, forcing a gasp from (y/n).
âIf I ever catch you touching (y/n), even looking at her, I will end you. Do you hear me, Mister Kerry?â No reply left the student, unable to speak up, only able to quickly nod his head. The second the man let go of him, he fled from the scene, leaving (y/n) and the professor behind.Â
For a few seconds, neither of them spoke, with Professor Riddle turning towards (y/n), eyes focused on her already bruised wrist. With wide eyes she watched him carefully reach for her hand, momentarily studying her skin before he began to pull her down the hallway, straight to his office. Her heart was pounding, racing against her ribcage to try and warn the oblivious woman of the danger lying ahead. But there was no escaping, she was tied to him like a boat tied to the dock, rocking with the waves though kept in place by the tight rope.Â
âHow did you find me?â (Y/n)âs whispers filled his barely alight office, drawing a dangerous chuckle from the man, a sound so strong (y/n)âs body kept trembling, littered with goosebumps.Â
âItâs not typical for you to be late, and I seem to find you no matter where you are. I donât share what is mine, and especially not you.â His voice dripped with possessiveness, hand cupping her warm cheek before his lips crashed against hers, leaving the woman moaning. Within a few moments (y/n) was forced against his desk, caged between the expensive wooden craft and his tall frame. âYouâre mine, mine alone, never forget that, pet.â
âI wonât. I am sorry.â She wasnât sure what she was apologising for, and yet it only felt right to do so. The words seemed to please the professor, studying her for another second or two before an almost teasing âProve how sorry you areâ left him. Without protesting, (y/n) dropped to her knees, glassy eyes staring up at the tall man, watching him free his already hard cock with skilled movements.Â
(Y/n) parted her lips like she had done numerous times before, in this very position, for the brooding man only. He forced his cock into her mouth without another warning, finding enjoyment in her gasps, the surprise filling her eyes, the trembling of her hand. She was his pet, the one he had claimed the first time she had stepped into his office, forever his.Â
âAtta, girl, such a perfect mouth.â Her hum left him groaning, ringed hand finding her hair as his head momentarily rolled back. Professor Riddleâs eyes fluttered close, enjoying the fast bobbing motion, the way her tongue took care of his ache just like he needed her to. If there was one thing (y/n) found pride in, it was satisfying the tall man, drawing these sounds from his mouth â sounds sheâd think of whenever her thoughts started to wander.Â
âCâmon, you can take a bit more, donât hold back, pet.â (Y/n) struggled to take more, and yet she was set on following whatever he asked of her, trying to loosen her jaw. One tear after another spilt from her eyes, dripping down onto his expensive carpet, leaving yet another stain heâd never wipe away. She wasnât used to hearing his praises, and yet whenever he did praise her, (y/n) hoped that her mind would never forget about these moments, cherishing every sound he made.
She felt his cock twitch in her mouth, staring up at the moaning man as her hands added more speed to their movements, pumping the parts her mouth couldnât reach. If there was one thing she was set on, it was tasting his release, wanting him to leave his stain on her tongue before he fucked her, a wish the man wouldnât fulfill today. He pulled away before he could give in, letting go of her hair, only to pull (y/n) to her feet. The professor manhandled her onto his table, front pushed against the cold wood as his hands pulled her trousers and panties down her legs.
âSuch a messy whore for your professor, look at the way youâre dripping.â His dark chuckles left (y/n) impatiently moaning, hands clinging to the edge of the table, already preparing for the first of many ferocious thrusts. She heard him spit into his hand, once again lubing his cock up before he pushed into her from behind, drawing a moan from the both of them.Â
He fucked her hard, fast, not caring about her need to adjust, or the pained whimpers leaving her. No, this was a lesson, a lesson crafted for her only, reminding the young woman that she was his, his only. No other man would ever manage to fuck her like this. No other man would ever manage to draw these sounds from her parted lips.
His toy, his pet, his woman.Â
Curses left her whenever his cock managed to nudge the spot that left her seeing stars, squeezing her eyes shut to try and focus on the intimate moment, the need to feel his cock forcing her walls apart with every thrust, the ache he left behind between her legs. This wasnât about taking their time, about cherishing one anotherâs closeness, this was solemnly to scratch that inch inside of them, fuelled by their possessiveness.Â
âPlease, oh please, professor.â A hum left the man, forcing one arm around her waist to rub her pulsing bundle, driving her closer and closer to the edge. âPlease let me cum, oh god, please.âÂ
âCum for me, pet. Let them hear who is fucking you, who is the only one allowed to touch you.â His name rolled off (y/n)âs tongue as she came, trying to prolong the moment for as long as possible. The professor kept snapping his hips, forcing his cock deeper and deeper, wanting to leave his stain on her walls, set on imprinting himself on her cunt. His dark, raspy moans left her gasping, feeling his hand tighten its grip on her flesh as he came inside of her, giving room to one last groan.
âYouâre mine to touch, mine only, donât you ever forget that, (y/n).â
words: 3kÂ
summary: AU where Michael Langdon, Tom Riddle, and fem!reader are caught in an intricate relationship where power and lust go hand in hand.
Sometimes the only way to forget is to take the memories out of your head and store them in the Pensieve.
This is the final part.Â
Part 1
Part 2
Chapter's soundtrack: Ludovico Einaudi - View From the Other SideÂ
âHe had my back long enough to stab me right into itâÂ
The snow was falling slowly, covering the roofs and the broad shoulders of the sleeping ogres that were supposed to keep the guard with the thick layer of silver blanket. Ever since the Dark Lord took the reigns, each village had ogres and werewolves as the night watchers in case any of the rebels decided to attack.
It was a deep night, and only a few lights in the giant mansion that sprawled out for several hectares were on. They were dim but more than enough to give a soft glow to this one particular spot in the living room. Â
The spot by a fireplace.Â
A big emerald-green velvet armchair was right in front of it. A huge pile of parchment paper was on the left-hand side. It was impossible to understand what was written on the notes because the handwriting was small, and most parts of the sentences were crossed out - it seemed as if whoever wrote them was in an incredibly frustrated state. Or furious. In life, very often these two feelings go hand in hand.Â
The flames from the fireplace cast warm light onto the walls with intricate gobelens. One of them pictured a family tree titled âThe Riddle Familyâ. Some of the spots were burnt out indicating that certain members were excluded for reasons only a pure-blood wizard would understand and consider fair.Â
But nobody knew that the entire thing was fake. Tom Riddle came from a muggle family, and all these âexcludedâ members were nobody but imaginary people that he put on the wall to give the impression that he cared about the purity of his blood.Â
He was sitting in the armchair with his long legs crossed. Pale, aristocratic hands rested neatly on the handles. His eyes were closed, his breath even. He was used to evenings like this. After all, he did not have anyone left. Death Eaters could not be counted on. They were just mere subjects, loyal to their Lord, but their loyalty was based on fear and, in some cases, pure insanity. They could not be trusted. But who could he ever trust? The one he considered his brother (not by blood, but by how close they were) betrayed him.
Tom squeezed his fingers around the handles, making his knuckles bleed white. No matter how many years passed, he could not forgive Langdon. He did not betray just Riddle. He betrayed their master plan, almost ruined everything, and over what? A fucking bitch. Just from the thought of it alone, he felt the burning rage boiling up in his stomach and rising to his throat, making him gulp heavily. He rubbed his eyes tiredly and sighed. As he stretched one of his arms, his fingers lightly brushed the pile of notes next to him. He pulled one.Â
âMaybe you will wrap your mind around it one day, Tom. She loves both of us,â the scribed letters said. The rest of the paragraph faded with time, but Riddle knew it by heart.Â
Y/N never loved any of them, and if Langdon had ever believed otherwise, he was a complete fool and had no right to be his ally in the first place, Riddle thought. She was scared like a little mouse that she was. It was her plan all along: to make them fall for her and then flee when the time came. She pretended to be by their side. Luckily Riddle made her give the unbreakable vow, and that was the only thing that saved his plan in the end. The little bitch could not escape the ancient magic and paid for her dishonesty.Â
But she was useful. Thanks to Y/N, Michael and Tom did manage to access her fatherâs archive and find clues about the location of the Elder Wand. Riddle could feel the weight of it in his pocket. It was real and it brought him the power he had always lusted after. He did not even flinch when he had to point it at his friend, brother, and ally - Michael Langdon. By that point, he had already found out that Langdon was on Y/Nâs side.Â
He remembered vividly the animalistic roar âAvada Kedavra!â and how the green light coming from his wand pierced through the green flame of Langdonâs wand and then went straight to Michaelâs heart. The blond wizard fell dead on the cold concrete of the Glenfinnan Viaduct that Hogwarts Express used to go over every year with the students on board.Â
Only one Lord could exist.Â
Riddle crunched the piece of paper in his hand and threw it into the fire; the flames swallowed it immediately. He could hear the ticking of the ancient clock. He glanced at it quickly. Midnight.Â
âActioâ, he commanded and immediately, a small coffee table with little glass bottles appeared in front of him. Tom sat straight in his armchair and took one of the tiny bottles in one hand. With the other hand, he dived into the folds of his gown and pulled out his wand. He closed his eyes. Letâs see what memory he could get rid of that night. Riddle pointed the tip of the want at his temple and whispered:
âPensieveâ*
A thin silver string started to appear at the end of the wand, stretching out from his head. He pulled a bit more letting it come out completely, and then he stored it right into the prepared bottle. The silver ribbon peacefully rested inside the glass. He knew what it was about.Â
âWho are your Lords, darling?â he whispered in her ear while holding her by the neck as she lay atop him with her arms around his torso. Her hair was a mess, mouth hung open as she succumbed to the pleasure of two thick cocks stretching out her abused holes. Riddle was on his back, penetrating her throbbing pussy, and Langdon was behind her stretching her tight ass. He could tell Y/N was on the verge of crying from how overstimulated she felt.
âWe canât hear youâ, Michael panted and reached out to her head to yank it and make her face Riddleâs smirk. She winced and looked at the man in front of her through hooded eyes. She was so full.Â
âYou,â she answered barely moving her spit-slick lips, and her eyes rolled back at the particular hard thrust of Michaelâs hips. Tom slid his hands down her body to grab her thighs and brought her dipper onto his cock. He could feel Michael moving inside of her too. Both of their cocks were slipping in and out with a filthy, sloppy sound.Â
âGood girlâ, Michaelâs colossal palm landed on the delicate skin of her asscheek, leaving a red print. She moaned and involuntarily, out of pure reflexes, pushed herself back onto him. âThere you go,â he praised and spread her wider, admiring how her asshole was taking him. The beads of sweat were collecting on his forehead, blond locks sticking to it.Â
Riddleâs hands were on her breasts that were bouncing in front of his face. He squeezed her nipples tightly eliciting another loud moan from her. He passionately attached his mouth to hers, savoring every sound she made. He kissed her hungrily, drinking in the power he had over her. They had. Y/N was their little puppet. He could feel how Michael pulled out of her just to fill her back up. The sound of his balls slapping against her ass and their low moans was bouncing off the walls of the room.Â
Tomâs lips moved down her neck, stopping at the junction that connected her neck and the shoulder and giving it a harsh bite. Hard enough to leave a dark-purple mark. He wanted to claim her in every way. She already had a black snake imprinted on her arm, she had invisible strings of the vow around her wrists, and she had bite marks and hand prints all over her body.Â
âCâmon letâs move herâ, he commanded to Michael and the blond man moaned disapprovingly. âSharing is caring, Langdonâ. Â
Michael gave her a few more thrusts to enjoy the tightness of her ass and complied. Before he moved her on her back, he proudly spread her gaping hole to see the result of his work which felt incredibly humiliating to Y/N. She whimpered when both of the men quickly flipped her over and she ended up on her back with her legs spread and Riddle between them. His eyes were black now, two abysses staring into her soul. Her head was spinning.Â
âWhat do you think, love?â he cooed, bringing his thumb to her lips and tapping on them ordering her to open her mouth. He leaned closer. She could feel his hot breath fanning over her face and the pressure of the tip of his cock at the entrance of her wet pussy. Her eyelids flattered and her cheeks turned scarlet when Riddle let the string of his saliva land on her tongue. âTake it.âÂ
With that command he snapped his hips, thrusting deep inside of her, making her back arch. He was pinning her to the bed with the weight of his body and she did not have any other choice but to keep taking his big, hard cock moving ruthlessly inside her velvet walls.Â
âT-T-Tomâ, she whimpered spreading her legs wider. Tears welled up in the corners of her eyes and she extended her arms, sliding her palms down the silk sheets looking for Michaelâs hand. She needed to squeeze it for support, to have something to hold onto. Langdon laced their fingers together and brought his face close to hers.Â
âYou look beautiful, darlingâ, he praised and reached his hand to her clit. His long fingers massaged firmly, sending bolts of pleasure down her spine. âLet him fuck you, be a good girl. You know you need to serve your Lords well, baby.âÂ
âOh yes, such a good puppy,â Riddle muttered and closed his eyes, giving in to the pleasure of her pussy around him. So good. So tight.Â
Michaelâs plump lips met her parted mouth. He was kissing her lazily. He slid his tongue along her bottom lip and cupped her flushed cheeks. He brushed them with his thumbs almost lovingly.Â
âLet him cum inside your pussy, babyâ, he whispered, âand then I will fill your mouth, yeah?âÂ
As if she had a choice. She would do anything. She nodded and drew her knees to her chest allowing Riddle to go at a much deeper angle. He cussed and pushed onto her knees driving his cock in and out of her heat. His face was mere inches away from hers. He smelled like sweat and cologne. The suffocating smell of sex filled her nostrils. His hips moved at an animalistic pace, the muscles of his abdomen flexed with each thrust, and his groans indicated that he was close.Â
âIâm gonna cum in herâ, he panted and Y/N moaned at his words. Michael was still holding her hand, and when Riddle leaned closer and whispered, âLook at meâ, all she could do was oblige. She looked at him with wide eyes feeling his cock twitching inside of her. She let out a long, low moan when after one last thrust a hot, sticky fluid spilled inside her pussy. She watched Riddle throw his head back in pure bliss, feeling his cock pulsing deep in her. She felt incredibly full. Everything was wet. When he pulled out, she winced at the stretch and from how messy it all felt. Thick drops of pearl-white cum leaked out of her folds right onto the silk sheets.Â
âKeep your legs upâ, Michael ordered. Y/N was in a trance. She could barely feel her legs, her heart was beating violently like a trapped bird in a cage, and her breath was still uneven. She saw Tom tiredly rolling over the other side of the bed leaving her at Langdonâs mercy.Â
âPut your hands on your ass and spread your holes for meâ, Langdon continued. She slowly cupped her asscheeks in her palms and very slowly parted them. It felt filthy. Her pussy quivered and pushed out another thick drop of cum. Good Lord.Â
Michael reached his hand to gently tap her clit and collect some of the cum that Riddle left. He rubbed it between his long fingers and then smeared it around her tightened nipples. He grabbed his cock with his other hand and guided it into her mouth.Â
âMake me cumâ, his low voice sent shivers down her spine. Y/N did not have any energy in her left. She slightly turned her head, adjusting her position on the pillow to take his cock at a better angle. She parted her lips and took a deep breath. Michael did not have any patience for her to take her time and run the tip of her tongue along his head and then take it inch by inch. As soon as he felt the warmth of her mouth, he pushed his hips forward making her take it all. Y/N gasped and almost let her teeth scratch the sensitive skin. Langdon hissed and grabbed her by the hair, guiding her head. He held her in place while driving his cock in and out of her mouth. She could barely keep up with the pace, choking on the impressive length.Â
âJust like thatâ, he approved. âKeep going.â He found particular pleasure in the noises her throat made each time he trusted into it. Her dripping saliva allowed his cock to glide easily. In and out. In and out. His eyes traveled down her body right to the spread pussy and ass that she still had on full display for him. With a low groan, Langdon pulled his cock out of her mouth and slapped her red cheeks with it. The girl was panting heavily. He was holding her by her neck as he kept rubbing the tip of his cock against her lips.Â
âGood girlâ, he murmured and slapped her one more time. âStick your tongue out.â
He let go of her face but she still kept it close because she knew what was coming. Obeying to his request, Y/N took her tongue out and looked up at Michael. His nostrils flared, usually perfect locks were messy, and his broad chest was covered in sweat. She knew him so well by that time already. She could tell he was close just by the way his breath hitched. She watched him jerking himself off and the wild thought of how badly she actually wanted him to cum on her enveloped her mind.Â
It was something in her eyes that could not be hidden. Something always about Michael that made her look at him in âthatâ particular way no matter what he and Riddle kept doing to her. Something Riddle never experienced. Something he hated the most and wanted to annihilate at its origin.
For a second, Tom Riddle wanted to break the glass with the string of memory inside of it. But instead, he squeezed it tightly in his palm and put it in the chest pocket of his gown. He will find a proper storage for this particular one.Â
Suddenly a creaking sound of the door opening interrupted his thoughts. He smiled. He did not even need to turn his head to know what it was.Â
âYou are back my love,â Riddle smiled as the snake made its way to the armchair. Its long muscular body was strong and flexible. The snake wrapped its thick body around one of the legs and rested its giant scully head on Tomâs thigh. Its pitch-black eyes stared at him blankly. âDid you have a good hunt?â
The snake blinked. Tomâs fingers were drawing a lazy pattern on its head, it felt sleek and cool under his fingertips. How fascinating was the fact that once smart enough to come up with the plan to make fools out of the two most powerful wizards, this very head was now only capable of a primitive string of thoughts! It no longer had its identity, no recollection of the family she wanted to save so badly, no memory of Michael and him and what they used to do together, and most importantly, no memory of what she made Langdon feel. She was his loyal servant.Â
âThat is the price you paid, Naginiâ, Riddle whispered, taking the snakeâs head in his palms, his palms caressing the sides of it. He loved her new name. The name he picked for her many years ago. âJust like he paid his.âÂ
*In Harry Potter universe the memory extraction spell is unknownÂ
Author's note: Iâd like to thank everyone who supported Part 1 and Part 2 of this series that I wrote 4 years ago (*whistling*). I read every single comment and ask you sent me. Michael x reader x Tom pairing found its continuation in a plethora of drabbles and one-shots I wrote back in my active days on tumblr. The longer ones are included in my masterlist and the rest you can find in the tag #Michael x Tom x reader on my blog. Enjoy!
Thought I'd switch up the pairing this time. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx
Summary: (Y/n) is a female priest working for Tom's local church. He visits her every Friday afternoon, confessing to his darkest secrets, but today he shares something else, something that forces her to follow his every command. Pwp basically
Warnings: 18+, unprotected piv, sex in a church, choking, degrading, Tom being Tom, dubcon, oral (m), religious connotations, this is filthy
Pairing: Tom Riddle x fem!priest!reader (1.8k words)
âSit.â She patted the spot next to her, watching the young man move with grace, the amount of grace no other man in his early twenties managed to emanate. For a few seconds neither of them spoke, with their eyes focused on the altar, with their hands interlaced, and with their hearts comfortably beating on. âHave you ever wondered how much strength Jesus had needed to carry the cross?â
âNo, but can we really know the answer to that?â Tomâs rough voice echoed through the church, a sound so biting, the young female priest had to avert her gaze, letting her eyes wander over his features. His piercing eyes didnât meet hers, deep in thought, either pondering over her questions or over the dark thoughts heâd confess to every single Friday afternoon.
âJohn, Matthew, Mark, and Luke tell us about the wood that has been used for the cross, the cross itself must have been around 136 kilograms heavy.â A hum left the man, eyes finally meeting her curious ones, momentarily drawn into the comfortable silence that managed to wrap the two in its protecting veil.
âWhy are you telling me this?â His eyes dropped down to the white collar she wore around her neck, a spot heâd dream of whenever he got the chance to, wondering how it must feel to wrap his fingers around her neck, holding her close as he fucks her in the confessional. Ever since the young woman had joined his local church, taking over the work of the former elderly priest, Tom had been stuck in sinful thoughts, thoughts that distracted the young man from his plans, from the steps heâd have to take to succeed with his mission.
âWe all have our burdens to carry, Tom. And yet we shouldnât be afraid to ask for help, no matter how heavy our weight may feel. I want you to remember that for todayâs confession.â She rose to her feet, left the man behind as she stepped into the confessional. It took him about a minute to follow her, sinking down on the wooden bench, thoughts still focused on the things he wanted to do to her. Tom was set on breaking her, Tom was set on blemishing her pure soul. Heâd make a trade with the devil, heâd sacrifice her soul, for his own purposes.Â
The two spoke their first prayer, fingers interlaced, eyes closed. And then Tom started speaking, though this time he wasnât speaking about his fantasies, of the way he wanted to hurt those around him, set on gaining more and more power. No, today he spoke of the things he saw whenever he needed a distraction, of the way he touched himself to the thought of her.Â
âTom,â it was nothing more than a whisper, a silent warning the young man chose to ignore. His lips were pulled into a devilish smirk, eyes finding hers through the wooden window. (Y/n)âs pupils were dilated, struggling against the hold he had on her body and soul, wanting to escape from the trap he had forced her into.
âTell me, (y/n), have you sinned the same way I have? Did you fuck yourself to the thought of me, the same way I fuck my hand with my mind painting your naked body for me?â His voice dropped even lower, a sound so bone chilling (y/n) found herself gasping. Her mouth was dry, heart about to rip itself out of her chest with the fast beat that only kept on growing faster. All (y/n) could do was watch him leave his side of the confessional, only to step into her small space.Â
His cold hand found her throat, thumb forced into her mouth before she could even begin to understand what the man was about to do to her. Tom stared down on her like Lucifer, like a demon so powerful, she could only give in, falling to her knees like a sinner made to worship the darkness itself.
âYour eyes deceive you, (y/n). I see the way you look at me, I feel the lust thumping through your veins. You want me, no matter what He may tell you, youâre too far gone. Youâre already mine, and I wonât let you escape.â Tom forced her to her knees, pulled to the cold ground with the hand he still had wrapped around her throat. She couldnât push herself away, no matter how loud her mind screamed at her to rip herself free, her body was too curious, needing to be touched by the man. It had been years since she had last done something like this, years of chastity she was now throwing away as if they had meant nothing.Â
He freed his hardening cock with quick movements, exposing his pale skin to her wide eyes. (Y/n) choked on his name, wondering how far heâd take it, tainting a holy place like this. But Tom didnât seem to care about their surroundings, all he was focused on was forcing his cock down her throat, instantly drawing tears to her eyes. She was fighting an already lost battle, there was no way back for her, all sheâd be able to do was beg for forgiveness tonight.Â
âCâmon, I know you know how to use that mouth of yours, donât disappoint me.â The hand finding her hair forced her head to move, set on a bobbing motion that drew moans from the tall man. His cock grazed the back of her throat with every movement, leaving her to choke around him. (Y/n)âs hands clung to his thighs, trying to keep herself balanced, trying to forget about the coldness pressing against her knees, trying to forget about the holy promise she had just broken.
And yet, no matter how much she tried to hate what Tom was doing to her, she couldnât help but enjoy it, eyes unable to flutter close, watching the lustful expression tug on his handsome features. Something inside of her wanted to make him proud, wanted to prove her worth to him as if he was God himself, deciding over the path of her eternal afterlife, deciding whether or not sheâd be able to pass the pearly gates.
âFuck, atta girl. I knew you were nothing but a cockhungry slut, a whore hiding behind the cross dangling from your neck.â His degrading words left her groaning, walls clenching around nothing, desperate to be filled by him. Tom seemed to pick up on the desperation she felt, letting go of a dark chuckle before he forced her off his cock and back to her trembling feet. (Y/n) found her front pressed against the wooden window, letting the man pull her black trousers down her legs, soaked through panties following moments later. âI bet youâre fucking tight, huh? I bet you didnât let any other man touch you, you knew that you were mine from the first time you saw me.â
(Y/n) couldnât stop her moan from leaving her, teeth drawing blood from her lower lip as he plunged two fingers into her tightness. Her mind was racing, heart pounding in her chest, making blood sing in her ears. All she could focus on was his touch, the way he had sneaked his right arm around her waist, touching her just the way she needed him to.Â
âSpeak when youâre asked too, or are you already too far gone to remember how to speak?â He moved quickly, pulling his fingers from her heat to replace them with his cock. She felt tight around him, walls struggling to adjust around him â something Tom didnât pay any attention to, set on a brutal pace.
âI, fuck,â (y/n)âs eyes fluttered close, struggling to find her words as Tom kept fucking her from behind. âOnly you, nobody else, I swear.â
The satisfied hum that left Tom forced another moan from her, a sound stuck in her throat as he began to choke her once again. A silent prayer left (y/n), hoping that He would forgive her for every sin she was committing just now, but she couldnât care about ending up in the fiery flames, all she could focus on was her lack of air and her quickly arising orgasm.Â
His name left her, a sound so quiet, Tom barely picked up on it. With his lips finding the back of her neck, he pulled her even closer. He scraped his teeth along her skin, marking her in more than just one way, leaving marks that will remind her about what was just happening for days on end.Â
With every ferocious thrust their bodies met, a sound so sinful even the demons below had to look away, hiding their warm cheeks. A sight so sinful, Tom found himself growing more and more excited, this was only just the beginning, he was sure of it, already thinking of all the other things he could do to her.Â
âBeg for it, I wonât let you cum otherwise.â A sob left (y/n), unable to reply, unable to beg for the release she needed like the wine and bread she ached for at every service. Tears ran down her cheeks, salty tears reminding her of the salty ocean Noahâs ark had sailed through, finding new hope as the world around him began to die.Â
âTom,â she struggled to properly pronounce her words, fingernails scratching at the wood she was pressed against. He began to loosen his grip around her throat, giving her some more air to cling to. âI need it, need it so badly. Please, oh God, please.â
His cock nudged her sweet spot with every perfectly calculated thrust, making her almost black out from the unfamiliar waves of pleasure trying to drown her. Another âPleaseâ left her before Tom finally spat out a rough âCumâ, pushing her over the edge. Loud moans clawed through her as (y/n) came on his cock, feeling him twitch inside of her.Â
Tom fucked her for a few more moments before he pulled out of her, forcing her back down to her knees, once again exposing her tongue to him. He came on her face, making her swallow every salty drop he offered to her, leaving stains reminding one of a pearly rosary.Â
âYou may pray for forgiveness, but let me tell you something, priest. Youâre mine, no longer His. No longer do you answer His calls, only mine.â
â Warnings: smut, Riddle, waitress and prostitute, age gap (both off age)
â Summary: Tom Riddle Sr attends an important meeting in a small bistro and takes a moment to appreciate the place or rather the worker.
â Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English. Tom Riddle Sr is Tom Riddle's muggle father. @veroriddle this was my baby's idea, I made it an imagine...I hope you don't mind.
His warm and firm palm pressed more and more on your back, a small moan almost whine came out of your lips bruised by the previously exchanged kisses.
When you entered the bistro where you worked that day you expected a quiet evening, maybe some unpleasant and rude customers but you certainly didn't expect to meet one of the customersâ from your second job, which you wanted to remain secret.
That evening, you put on your usual uniform which consisted of a shirt partly covered by a vest and a miniskirt that showed enough but not too much. Your hair were pulled up and the pen was held by your lips as you walked to the new costumers that walked in, to take just their ordersâ thing that changed as soon as you met those infamous light eyes that stared at yours before looking you up and down in silence.
It was enough, you were already melting and he just needed to find a moment to get you alone to have you like he wantedâ after waiting and staring at the other men looking and flirting with you.
It passed nearly 20 minutes and your body was pressed against the sink of the bathroom, his eyes kept staring at yours as he gripped your hair in a tight grip to prevent your head to drop
"Always so thigh for me, darling" the man grunted, his free hand holding your hips in a tight grip as he slammed his cock back inside your soaked hole "Was thinkingâ" he groaned softly against your hear, continuing to talk even if your moans kept interrupting him "âabout you".
You just hummed, not really listening to what the man, you learned was called Tom, was saying too lost in your own pleasure and the way he was thrusting mercifully in you while still kissing your bare back in a kind of loving and tender way
"Fuck, darling, taking it so good" Tom praised as he slowly reached his climax, his big hand with slender fingers moved from your hair down to your clit, making sure to make you you cum first so he could feel your abused walls clench around his stiff lenghtâ before shooting his load inside of you and help you put your clothes back on, just like he did while you adjusted your hair and makeup.
Your back was still facing Tom, he moved closer again when he fixed his suit just to kiss your cheek and place a ÂŁ 100 bank note on the dry sink, squeezing your ass as he whispered his goodbye and a small promise before leaving the bathroom.
You just took the money, your face flushed as you put them in your bra, and walked out of that room as well to continue your shift there.
Synopsis - Your family and the Dark Lord were very close, so close that an agreement had been made on your behalf when you were just a little girl: you were to be married to Lord Voldemort.
Warnings - NSFW.
Word Count - 3.2k.
[Caffeinate Me]
Youâre the daughter of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. You had recently graduated from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry with some of the best scores the school had ever seen. Youâre a powerful witch and you know it.Â
You were aware that your family had dealings with the Dark Lord, Lord Voldemort. However, you had yet to be involved. If you were home when the Dark Lord came to visit, your mother told you to go upstairs and stay quiet. You wondered if Voldemort knew your existed, and if so, why you hadnât been drafted to be a Death Eater like your brother Draco.Â
Today started like any other day. You woke up, went downstairs for breakfast and washed up when everyone was finished eating. As you put the dishes away, your mother approached you and whispered in your ear, âthe Dark Lord is coming. You know what to do.â You nodded in response. You quickly finished putting away the dishes and turned on your heels. You walked to the large staircase at the entrance of your home and swiftly walked up them and down the long hallway leading to your bedroom. You were to keep yourself silent until you were called for.Â
As soon as you reached your bedroom, you closed the door and lay on your bed. For a few moments you stared at the ceiling, listening out for the arrival of the Dark Lord, however all you heard was your brother and father arguing.  Â
âItâs not time yet father,â you heard Draco murmur.Â
âI think it is time Draco,â your father hissed in response. âDo you dare question my actions?âÂ
There was a moment of silence before Draco responded. âNo father.âÂ
You heard two pairs of footsteps walk down the hall and suddenly you were alone with your thoughts again. You couldnât help but want to know what it was your father and brother were arguing about. What wasnât it time for? You werenât sure but youâd ask Draco about it later. You continued to lay on your bed and stared at the ceiling as you heard the chatter begin downstairs signalling the arrival of the Dark Lord. You closed your eyes and soon fell into a deep slumped.Â
A significant time must have passed while you were asleep. You woke up to a dark room, the only light being from the moon outside of your window. You sat up in bed and rubbed the sleep from your eyes with a yawn. You stood up from your position on the bed and moved to the door, listening out closely to hear any signs of life from downstairs.Â
Silence.Â
You had assumed somebody had called for you while you were asleep which is why you had never heard so you made your way out of your room and down the hall. The stairs seemed never ending in the dark as you walked down them, being careful so as not to trip on the way. You made your way to the closed dining room door, still listening out for conversation that wasnât there. You took that as a sign the Dark Lord and all the other Death Eaters had all left so, slowly, you opened the dining room door and peered around.Â
Your eyes widened.Â
âThereâs my princess,â he said. At the head of the table, where your father would usually be at dinner, Voldemort sat. An extremely pale being, adorned in deep green robes, the Slytherin house colours. You looked at the table top to see a huge serpent, the biggest serpent youâve ever seen, making itself at home. Around the table were the Dark Lords loyal followers including your mother, father and brother. You were overcome with fear, unable to move as Voldemort beckoned you towards him with a pale finger. âCome, princess,â he spoke quietly.Â
You wanted to run, but you knew in your heart it was futile. He would catch you, no matter where you fled. You looked to your father who nodded to you, signalling that you should do as the Dark Lord said. With wide eyes and shaky steps, you made your way over to him. Once you reached his side, Voldemort grasped your hips and dug his long fingernails into the jumper you were wearing before pulling you down to sit on his lap. Your eyes widened even more, if that was even possible, and numerous thoughts spun around in your mind. âMy lord-â your father started, but was quickly silenced.Â
âNow now Lucius,â Voldemort hissed. âThis is all part of our agreement.â
Agreement?
You looked to your father and mother in confusion but the two avoided your gaze, eyes fixed on the Dark Lord. âWhatâs the matter princess? Youâre trembling,â Voldemort whispered in your right ear. His breath was hot against your skin, but despite that you felt the goosebumps rise on your arms. âDid your parents not tell you? They really thought keeping you away from me would stop what was meant to be.âÂ
âE-Excuse me?â You asked, a slight stutter on your tongue.Â
âDear dear,â Voldemort tutted, shaking his head before looking at your father. Then, Voldemort turned his attention to you, his fingers grasping your chin and forcing you to look at him. âMy princess. We are to be married.âÂ
âMarried?!â You yelped in surprise. You attempted to jump off the Dark Lordâs lap, but he kept you planted firmly where he wanted you. âI-I canât get married.âÂ
âMy dear Y/N,â he whispered. âYou have no choice. You will learn to love me.âÂ
You couldnât help but shiver at his words. How could you love him? He had sounded so sinister in that moment and it clicked in your head, this is what your father and Draco were arguing about earlier before you had fallen asleep. You looked around the table at the Death Eaters. âBut why me?â You asked.Â
âMy princess,â Voldemort spoke, his tone soft. âYou are the most powerful witch I know and if anybody can help me, I know itâs you.â His eyes held a raw determination you had never seen before. âWe will have powerful children.âÂ
âChildren?!â You yelped again.Â
Your father seemed to stiffen at the mention of you having children and this didnât go unnoticed by the Dark Lord. Voldemort looked to your father with a smile on his face before looking back at you, âshould we start now? You have a free bedroom, do you not?â His tone was mocking as his hands rubbed at your hips. Your father couldnât help but stand up, slamming his hands on the table in front of him. Voldemort simply chuckled. âIs there a problem, Lucius?â  Â
Your father pursed his lips and sat back down again. Gritting his teeth he shook his head. You could tell he was desperate to say something but feared what would happen to him if he did. Your mother placed her hand on his arm in an attempt to keep him calm. âLucius,â she whispered, a warning almost.Â
Voldemort turned to you once more once your father had backed down. A sickeningly sweet yet twisted smile lay on his lips. Your heart was pounding in your chest, whether it was from fear or embarrassment you werenât quite sure. Voldemort brought his hand up to stroke your hair and admired the glint of fear that burned in your eyes. You opened your mouth to speak but were unsure of what to say, so, you closed your mouth. Your head was spinning.
âWhatâs wrong, my princess?â The Dark Lord whispered in your ear. You opened your mouth to speak again, but no words came out. âMy pet, these are all your loyal servants. They will do anything you ask them to do. All you have to do is be by my side.â You turned your attention from the Dark Lord to the Death Eaters sitting around the table, but none of them looked your way. None of them would help you in your current situation, not even your family. You gulped hard as Voldemort's hands moved along your hips, nails digging into the fabric of your shirt ever so slightly, almost as if it was a reminder of who he was and the power he held. You felt trapped, powerless at this moment in time. You felt his lips ghost over your neck, licking at the soft flesh covering your jugular vein. âAll of this will be yours and so much more.â He pushed you off his lap and stood up. He towered over you, his presence felt threatening. âCome, my dear.âÂ
âWhere are we going?â You ask, a slight stutter in your voice.Â
âBack to my home,â Voldemort grinned. âYou will be living with me from now on. All your belongings will be brought back to our home.â
Your eyes widened with surprise and you immediately began to shake your head with defiance. âI-I canât!â You cry out, looking to your father and mother for help. Neither of them looked your way. âMother! Father! Tell him!â
Your father finally looked at you. There was sadness in his eyes. âY/N,â he spoke softly. âYou have to go.â
âYou cannot be serious,â You snapped, eyes filled with fury. You turned to see Voldemort standing next to you, his hand outstretched.Â
âCome my dear,â he whispered, beckoning you. You looked to your family in one last attempt for help, but to no avail. You sighed silently, and slumped your shoulders in defeat. You knew you had no choice. You stormed past Voldemort and out of your now previous home.Â
A few days had passed since that day. You were still getting used to this whole arrangement. You missed your family, though. You missed your gentle mother, stubborn father and obnoxious brother to no end. You jumped as the bedroom door opened, revealing The Dark Lord himself. You hadnât seen him since that day so you were shocked at his presence. âWhat are you doing?â You shrieked. âI could have been naked or-or anything!âÂ
âItâs only a matter of time before I see you naked, my princess,â Voldemort grinned. You squirmed at the thought of having sex with him. âI came to announce that your family will be arriving shortly for the ceremony.â
âWhat ceremony?â You asked, raising an eyebrow.Â
âOur wedding of course,â the Dark Lord responded. He held his hand out to you like he did that day, beckoning you to come to him. âYou should get ready. Your dress is this way.âÂ
You stood up off of the bed and made your way over to him cautiously. This was all moving really, really fast. âWedding? Already?â You asked, raising an eyebrow. âItâs only been a few daysâŚâ
âThere is no need to wait, my princess,â The Dark Lord spoke, ushering you to the spare bedroom. âIn here, everything is waiting for you.â
You walked into the bedroom. Your mother was sitting on the bed with her head in her hands. As soon as you entered, she shot up, a smile on her face when she saw your form. âY/NâŚâ She whispered, automatically pulling you in for a hug.Â
âMother,â you whispered back. You looked back to see Voldemort was nowhere to be seen, you closed the door quickly, looking at your mother. âI donât want thisâŚâ You shook your head to the side.Â
âBut you have to, my dear,â your mother replied back. âFor our family.âÂ
âBut-â
âNo buts,â she said. âThis has to be done.â
It made no sense to you. None of it was making any sense. You knew of none of this before the other day and now it was your wedding day! Your mother moved to the side, revealing a beautiful deep green wedding dress. âYour dress,â your mother smiled.Â
Your eyes widened at the sight of the dress. It was beautiful, not your traditional wedding dress but it was still beautiful. âWhen was all this decided?â You asked, your fingers trailing the seam of the dress.Â
âWhen you were a young girl,â your mother responded. You looked at her with shock, but didnât say anything else. âCome now. Letâs get you ready.â You nodded, remaining silent. Your mother did your hair and make-up before helping you with your dress. You felt like a princess, but this isnât the way you thought your wedding day would go⌠Or who it would be with. There was a knock on the door as your dress slipped on. âCome in!â Your mother called.Â
It was your father. He walked in, his eyes widening when he saw you. âYou look⌠BeautifulâŚâ Your father whispered as he walked into the room. He looked you up and down with a slight smile on his face.  Â
âThank you,â you mumbled, not looking at him.Â
Your father nodded before speaking again, âheâs ready for you now.âÂ
Your mother nodded and grabbed your arm, your father grabbing your other arm as they led you out into the room and into the main hall of the house. You looked around at the ceiling adorned with fairy-lights and vines, they contrasted perfectly with the dark walls. At the end of the makeshift wedding venue, Lord Voldemort stood. His face twisted into a grin the second he saw you. It sent a shiver up your spine. Your mother and father walked you down the aisle as the music played. Your heart was racing. You spotted Draco sitting at the front, his eyes full of sorrow. He didnât want this for you. When you reached the altar, Voldemort took your hands in his immediately, his long fingernails cutting your hand slightly.Â
âYou look simply delectable my princess,â he whispered to you.Â
You remained silent again as the priest began the ceremony. It was over quicker than it began, nobody in the room objecting to your new matrimony. âYou may now kiss the bride,â the priest spoke, closing the book he was holding.Â
The Dark Lord looked at you, before quickly cupping your face in his hands and pulling you close to him before you could even reject him. His tongue licked your lips desperately, almost as if he was begging for entrance into your mouth. You shook your head ânoâ but his hand snaked down to your waist, squeezing lightly. You squeaked and opened your mouth involuntarily, Voldemort's tongue invading your senses. There were cheers from the Death Eaters around you, but you felt sick to your stomach. You were now married to the Dark Lord.Â
âCome, princess,â Voldemort whispered to you as he pulled away. âLet us seal this marriage.âÂ
He grabbed your hand and led you up the stairs. Your mother and father watched as you disappeared up the stairs. You gulped, knowing what was about to happen. The Dark Lord shoved you into your room before grabbing your hand once more and leading you to the bed. âLetâs make this a night to remember,â he whispered into your ear before slipping his hands up your dress. You squeezed your eyes shut tight and felt as his fingers danced around the top of your underwear before he quickly pulled them down. You already felt exposed despite nothing being on show to him. With one quick swipe, your dress was down by your ankles finally leaving you exposed to the Dark Lord.Â
âIâŚâ You mumbled, unsure of what to say.Â
âYou look so beautiful,â the Dark Lord said to you as his hands trailed down your soft body. âItâs as if you were made for me.âÂ
His hands grasped your hips, pulling you down onto him. You let out a little squeak as you fell onto him causing the Dark Lord to let out a soft chuckle. His fingers made their way to your clit, stroking slow circles on the sensitive bundle of nerves. You couldnât help but let out a soft moan. âDoes that feel good?â He whispered into your ear, licking a stripe up your lobe. You let out a slow nod, nerves suddenly filling your stomach. He continued his motions on your clit seemingly desperate to please you. He flipped up his robe, revealing his pale and veiny cock, throbbing for you. Your eyes widened and the cliche thought of âwill it fitâ ran through your head. âDonât be so scared princess,â The Dark Lord continued to whisper to you. âItâll be okay.âÂ
âYouâre⌠Youâre huge,â you mumbled. This seemingly stroked his ego as the Dark Lord simply nodded, a smile on his face.Â
âI know my precious thing, I know.â
Voldemort rolled over so he was hovering above you, eyes boring into your own. The smile on his lips never faltered as he slicked his dick up your folds slowly, coating himself with your wetness. Without warning, he slammed inside of you. You let out a scream and waited for him to move, but he didnât for a few seconds. Instead, the Dark Lord gave you time to adjust to his length, cooing into your ear as he did. It felt like a lifetime before he slowly started to thrust inside you, his lips moving to your neck and sucking at the sensitive skin. You bit your lip, trying not to moan as he slipped in and out of you with ease. It didnât take long for his movements to speed up, his hips smashing into yours relentlessly. Against your will, a moan finally slipped past your lips, and it was loud. Voldemort used this as fuel to continue his pace, his lips still working at your neck as if it was the tastiest meal he had ever had. You continued to let out a variety of whimpers as you felt your orgasm nearing. âI-I canât!â You cried out, arms wrapping around his neck to steady yourself.Â
âThatâs it, my pet. Let everyone know how good I can make you feel,â he whispered into your ear. You squeezed your eyes shut once again as your orgasm finally washed over you, legs shaking violently as your cunt spasmed around the Dark Lords cock. âThatâs it,â he cooed. âI can feel you pulsing around me.â You let out another cry of pleasure, nails digging into his robes to ground yourself. When your orgasm finally subsided, your brain was in too much of a haze to fully comprehend what happened next. Voldemortâs hips thrusted against you a few more times before he came inside of with, a sound comparable to a roar leaving his lips. His hips stuttered as thick ropes spurted from the tip of his cock deep inside of you, finally claiming you as his own.Â
There was silence for a few seconds as you caught your breath, your mind catching up on the events that had happened over the last few hours. You were married now, and to the Dark Lord of all people. âSuch a good girl,â Voldemort muttered as he cupped your face in his hands. âWe will have powerful children, my love. Just you wait.âÂ
Before you could say anything he got off of you and fixed himself, and left the room leaving you all alone. You lay on the bed, naked, staring at the ceiling as you processed his words. Your heart raced at the possibility of getting pregnant. You werenât ready, but you knew that didnât matter to him. Now, all you could do was wait.. Only time would tell if you would get pregnant to the Dark Lord.
