TO WORSHIP.
pairing: harry potter x young!tom riddle | voldemort
warnings: (rough) kissing, mild dom/sub undertones, slightly implied/referenced sex, possessive!tom riddle
But before Harry could say anything, he was grabbed by the tie and pulled towards Tom.
Then, his lips pressed upon his before Harry realised what was happening. Tom’s hand found its way into Harry’s hair, pulling on it in a way that was almost painful but Harry liked it. A small noise of pleasure escaped Harry, and he felt Tom smirking against his lips. The kiss was a duel of dominance—one that Tom won almost immediately, not that Harry minded—and Tom pushed his tongue past Harry’s lips roughly. Another moan which was swallowed by the kiss escaped Harry, and Tom snaked his other arm around Harry’s waist possessively, pulling him towards him so that their bodies were the closest they could be, causing Harry to mindlessly stumble into the taller male’s embrace.
Tom quite enjoyed that height difference. He liked it that he was almost a head taller than Harry, and that Harry had to crane his neck—his wonderful, beautiful neck—upwards to meet his lips. Harry whimpered into Tom’s mouth lovingly, opening his mouth obediently when Tom pushed even deeper into his mouth.
With a gasp, Tom broke the kiss, and opened his eyes. Harry’s cheeks had turned into a wonderful shade of pink, his hair was messy and he stared at Tom, doe-eyed and all wide eyes, mouth still open, and dazed.
“Merlin,” Tom chuckled mockingly, “Breathe, Harry.”
And only then did Harry remember to breathe. But Harry could see behind Tom’s collected, forced calm facade—Tom himself was affected as well, Harry knew. He was breathing heavily, chest moving up and down, and his lips were all swollen, his ears tinged red.
“Shut up,” Harry snapped without real anger, leaning his head against Tom’s strong chest. That kiss had made him feel a bit dizzy and light-headed, and his knees threatened to crumble. Tom noticed this, and Tom’s arm that had fallen off Harry’s waist somewhere during Tom breaking the kiss and Harry learning to breathe again, was around him again.
“What’s wrong?” Tom muttered into Harry’s ear gently, making the smaller male blush at the intimate gesture.
“Nothing,” Harry mumbled, a little bit embarrassed, “Just… you made me feel dizzy.”
There was silence for a moment, and then Tom’s chest rumbled with laughter. Harry made a sound of indignity, hitting him softly with his arm.
“Are you laughing at my misery?” Harry accused.
Tom settled his chin on Harry’s head, and Harry could feel the smirk in his voice when he spoke. “No, Harry darling, I am deeply sorry, my dear. Never.”
Harry let out a ‘hmpfh!’, a sound of which Tom thought was the most adorable thing he had ever heard, and Tom’s chest shook with laughter again.
“You didn’t mean that apology,” Harry whined, shifting in his arms, “You liar.”
Tom’s eyes began to sparkle. “You want me to show you how sorry I am?”
Long, pale fingers—tender, so tender—lifted Harry’s chin gently, and their lips met again. This time, the kiss wasn’t as rough, it was soft. Loving. Warm and wet.
Harry couldn’t control the noises he made, for some reason, and Tom didn’t help—he coaxed all sorts of moans and gasps and whimpers out of him, even when Harry tried to be as quiet as Tom. But Tom himself wasn’t exactly silent either. He let out hums of pleasure, hums that vibrated against Harry, and small, impossibly deep groans that Harry would have missed if he hadn’t been standing so close to him.
“Such a lovely mouth,” Tom commented quietly after they broke the kiss again, tracing Harry’s lips with his fingers. Harry’s lips parted in response, allowing Tom’s fingers to trace their insides as well.
“Beautiful. You’re divine, Harry.” Tom whispered and tilted his head. Something about that picture, Harry beneath him and his small face engulfed by Tom’s large hand, triggered an obsessive, selfish possessiveness in him. He wanted it for himself—all of him, all of Harry.
“Princes must have fought over you in your past life, Harry darling,” Tom continued, softly tracing Harry’s chin and other features now, relishing in the shivers he caused by it, “With a face like that, you would have been worshipped back in the old days.”
“I just want you,” Harry replied honestly, and his eyes fluttered shut when Tom’s fingers began tracing his eyebrows, and the shape of his eyes, “I just want you.”
The lazy, teasing half smile Harry knew so well creeped onto Tom’s face, “I’m glad. How very lucky I am.”
“Let’s go to my dorm,” Harry suggested breathlessly.
Harry ignored the flutter that tugged on his heart—the flutter that told him you’re falling in love.
author’s note:
want to read more? go check out my tomarry story “Of Lambs and Wolves” on ao3, which this drabble is based upon!
more of my tomarry works:
Thurday’s Child.
To Worship.













