Nepenthe

Sleep, Beauty

Tom Riddle x Wife!Reader

Warnings: smut, p in v, oral (fem receiving), nipple play, fem reader, manipulation?

Word count: 1.3k

Summary: You had awoken to a bed without your husband, and went back to sleep with him beside you.

When you awoke, you found that the space on the bed next to you—where your husband’s sleeping body should be—empty. It wasn’t surprising, as Tom would often get up earlier than you to immerse himself in his personal studies of the Dark Arts.

He told you that he would like to be a Professor at Hogwarts, teaching about the subject, and you thought he was already more than capable enough of taking up the job. Tom has of course taught you a bit about the dark arts himself.

You squint, looking over at the small clock resting atop the bedside table. It was four in the morning. That was rather early.

Though you were tired, a curious spark lit up within you. What was your husband up to?

You shifted off of the bed, and quietly opened the door to leave your shared bedroom.

Voices from downstairs made their way to your ears. They were all male —perhaps two other men, not including Tom— and their voices sounded familiar.

What would anyone be doing here at such an hour, you wondered. Perhaps it was something important, an emergency. There was no other good reason!

You went back into your room, put on your robe, and then quietly made your way downstairs.

But, it was strange. Strange because when you made your way to the kitchen, there was only Tom, using his wand to clean some glass cups. (Tom has been teaching himself wandless magic, and has made a small habit of using it to do household chores. It at times has resulted in some broken glasses— though those are easily repairable with a flick of a wand. He must have been using his wand because he hadn’t wanted to accidentally break something, and wake you up from the sounds of glass breaking).

“Tom?” Your voice sounds deeper than usual, a result of just using your voice after sleeping.

He looked over at you, surprised. “You should be sleeping. Go back to bed,” Tom demanded, though his voice was as calm as a lullaby. “I’ll join you after I’m done cleaning up.”

You grabbed a cup that Tom just cleaned, filled it up with water, and gulped it all down in one fell swoop. After you finished, you placed the cup in the sink, so that Tom could clean it up again.

“I heard voices,” you said, watching him clean the last dish and place it in a cupboard.

Tom let out a small hum of approval. “Ah, yes. Malfoy, and Lestrange had come by to speak to me.” He took a step towards you. “Had we awoken you? If so, I’m sorry.”

“What were they here about?”

Tom grabbed your hand and pressed a small kiss to your palm. “Bed, Love. We’ll speak about this in the morning.”

“But it is morning time!” you whined, looking up at Tom.

He raised a dark brow. You were correct.

“You know what I mean.”

Tom pressed his body against yours, pinning you to the sink. He leaned down, and pressed a small kiss to the area where your shoulder and neck connect. He kissed up your neck until he made it to your jaw. Only then did he kiss your lips. He tasted bitter, though sweet as well, like a tart. Tom and his friends must have sipped on some wine while speaking about whatever Tom refused to tell you about at the moment.

The curiosity within you was slowly waning as one of your husband’s hands made their way to your waist, and the kiss got more intimate.

You pressed your head towards him, deepening the kiss, but he pulled away.

“I will not have you in the kitchen, if that's what you’re thinking,” Tom said, amused.

A scoff passed through your lips. “I was not.”

He grabbed one of your hands, encasing yours in his, and led you up the dark swirl of a staircase. A small feeling of excitement ran through your body at what was to come.

You entered the bedroom and Tom shut the door behind him, though only the pair of you lived in this house.

You crawled up the bed, and sat upright against the pillows, waiting for Tom to join you. As it was dark, you knew he had joined you once you felt a small dip on Tom’s side of the bed.

His hands tugged your robe off of you, and your nightgown was the next to go.

Tom gently pushed you, so that you were laying on your back.

He pressed a small kiss to your lips, though the hunger he had for you was radiating off of him.

“Be good for me.” A command that you’d always obey.

Tom made his way down your body, pressing kisses atop your body as he made his way lower.

Once he got to your breasts, he blew on one of the nipples, trying to harden it. Once it did, he took it into his warm mouth, gently sucking on the nub. Tom stimulated your other breast with his fingers.

Your back arched in response, and legs spread a little more, welcoming him in.

One of your hands clutched at his shoulder while the other grasped at the pale bedsheets.

Once Tom was satisfied, he gently bit at your nipple, before continuing to move downwards. He kissed down your stomach until he was finally faced with your vagina.

Like Tom did with your breast, he gently blew against your genitals. Your eyes fluttered, and your lower half pushed forwards against Tom’s face.

“Touch me. Please Tom,” You pleaded. Already, the mysteries of what Tom was planning with his friends had slipped out of our mind. Now, you could only focus on the pleasure he could give you. The pleasure you knew he would give you.

Tom kissed at your thighs, teasing you, but when he finally licked a stripe up your cunt, you wanted more.

Hands held down your hips to stop them from wiggling forwards. He dragged his tongue up and down your pussy, drinking in the fluid you produced—a show of your arousal.

You let out small moans, though they were replaced by a whine once he pulled his face away from you.

Instead, Tom used his finger to spread your slick across your vagina, before slowly inserting a finger into you.

Your eyes squinted shut, focusing on the feeling of his finger moving in and out of you.

Soon, another finger joined the first. He scissored his fingers, stretching you out to fit his cock in you.

His other hand focused on rubbing your clit, and before you knew it, you came. It was like a quiet storm. Your legs shook, and a thin sheen of sweat covered your body. Small, breathless moans escaped your mouth and were let out for Tom and yourself to hear.

Tom’s frame covered yours as he positioned his body over you.

“Do you think you can take one more?” Tom peppered kisses atop your shoulder.

You nodded. “Please. Yes.”

He smirked—though you could not see it— amused.

Tom was quick to rid himself of his clothing. He then grabbed his hard cock, and pressed it to your slit. Tom rubbed his hard cock against you, before inserting it in.

Your head fell back against the pillows, taking in the stretch. You lazily wrapped your legs around Tom’s waist.

Tom pulled out of you just to push right back in. He set a slow pace that he followed almost robotically.

Your eyes fell shut, focusing on how his cock filled you up perfectly. You were still sensitive from your last climax, though you could feel the next overcoming you.

Tom used one of his hands to stimulate your clit, and that’s when you break. White hot flashed through you, electric. You grasped at Tom’s shoulders, bringing him closer to you.

A small grunt escaped Tom’s mouth as he finished. His hips moved against yours a few more times before he was finally satisfied.

Tom quietly moved off of you, and tugged you towards him, so that your head lay on his chest.

“Go to sleep. I’ll clean you up.” He pressed a small kiss to your forehead, and did as Tom told you.

a/n: haven't written anything in a while😭 but decided to come back to a one-shot idea that I've had for a while now. I used this to also practice my smut writing skills as well😭 Comments are greatly appreciated and so are reblogs! Hope you enjoyed!

Tom Riddle Masterlist

I've never doubted shifting because my dad was a shifter for years.

He told me stories from his one reality all the time, about how he was a warrior that could transform into a giant black cat, called iekkrans.

About all the other clans of wolves and bears and lions, how he made me a princess that knew how to fight any man that tried anything with me. How the warriors fight with music and create it with the clash of their weapons.

He told me about a crazed princess from another kingdom that was so unstable you could probably find her running down a road naked and not be surprised.

He told me how when you married someone in this reality you formed a spiritual bond so strong that if you broke it, it could kill you, and that HE had his bond broken and barely survived it.

He told me about how in courting culture, the only way to win a mate was to prove to the father you loved them. And the magic knew if you were lying. He told me then about 2 brothers that fought for my heart, and how the older one won.

He told me about eternal cities that were created from exoloding worlds, how those cities were permanent and euphoric, and how if you dare entered one you'd never be able to leave again.

He's told me so many stories about the warriors of the universe and how they become stone cold and trained to kill EVERYTHING they're commanded to kill.

My dad is a fucking bad ass, and I'll never doubt reality shifting because of him.

"i want more complex women" you couldn't even handle catelyn stark. unlike cersei. who was the most advanced catelyn apologist within the text, she was cheering her on for wrongs she didn't even commit > "Catelyn Tully was a mouse or she would have smothered this Jon Snow in his cradle. Instead, she's left the filthy task to me." < she would've supported her wrongs, she wanted her to be more evil about it even. which is why it is a tragedy that she never knew the way catelyn spoke of her:

when she fantasises about killing you in a manner which signifies your worst, most oppressive fear 🥰

Jareth The Goblin King headcanons.

Talks to you about how lonely he was before meeting you.

Tries his best to give you whatever you desire.

Will try his best to cheer you up when you are upset.

Loves when you compliment his outfits.

If someone (a goblin) is confident enough to flirt with you he will 100% make fun of them.

Jareth is clingy. He loves spending time with you.

He loves to dance with you. If you don’t know how to dance, he’ll try to teach you.

Lowkey kinda creepy, but when you're not around and he misses you, he will watch you from his crystal ball.

He loves praising you and loves it when you do too.

He doesn’t like to get messy but if you paint or garden, he would watch you.

Likes to just lay in bed with you and likes to take in all your features. Gently caressing your body and drawing shapes on your skin.

First fanfic on this account! Feel free to send requests.

Rules and characters I write for:

House of the Dragon:

Aemond Targaryen

Aegon ii Targaryen

Jacaerys Velaryon

Star Wars:

Anakin Skywalker

Harry Potter:

Tom Riddle

What I write when it comes to requests:

Give me something to work with, don't just say "Can you write (Character) x reader."

yandere

headcanons & one shots (though I'm focusing on one shots right now)

I write female reader

What I don't write when it comes to requests:

Inc3$t or st3pc3st

I don't write smut

hufflepuff!reader

Oc's or ships

innocent reader

Pregnant/mom reader

Reader that's related by blood to any of the characters

a/b/o

modern!star wars au

I am not obligated to write your requests!

Don't be rude or weird

DO NOT POST MY WORK ON OTHER PLATFORMS

israel is a settler colony.

tom riddle—a certain romance.

.ೃ࿐ྂ tom riddle x fem!reader

summary: tom provides a distraction when your period arrives.

word count: 1.1k

fanfic no. 024

tom wasn’t used to being stood up. he’d had no chance to harbour a dislike for the act because it had never happened until now—not that he could recollect anyway. but now that it had, he hated it.

it was basic manners to turn up to something you’d organised, or at least let him know sufficiently in advance if you weren’t able to attend. he felt cheated. and not that he was particularly concerned with his reputation at hogwarts (but he was), he couldn’t let this go.

currently, unbeknownst to tom riddle, you were hauled up in your dormitory, cradling your stomach, hoping that this change of position would relieve some pain. the water on your bedside had long been empty, and the food you’d taken from breakfast was hardening. on the brink of tears, you slipped a blanket over your shoulders and stared at the ground, wishing it would swallow you whole.

tom, on the other hand, was storming through the castle with a stone cold face, lips pursed and hands in his pockets. it wasn’t unusual for tom to strut through the halls like this, but something about his blank stare caused some alarm with the younger students.

“watch out!” a second year hissed, pulling his friend back by the collar as tom flew past.

he barely noticed.

there was sharp knock at your door, and at first you thought someone must’ve gotten the wrong dorm, but it persisted despite you not answering. stomping over to the door, you whipped it open before another knock could disturb the little peace you had left.

“what?!” you seethed, only recognising the person in your doorway afterwards. “oh, tom. what are you doing here?” you asked.

tom screwed his eyebrows together. surely it was obvious what he was doing at your door. he had waited for you in the library for nearly forty-five minutes—he must have looked like an utter fool. how he hated to be humiliated.

“i-”

“oh! oh, tom, i’m so sorry. i completely forgot,” you threw your hands over your mouth guiltily.

tom looked past you and into your room, noticing the strewn sheets, blankets, stale food and tipped over glass on your bedside. then he looked back at you, expression softening slightly.

“are you unwell?” he questioned you.

“in a matter of speaking, aunt flo has come to visit,” you said delicately.

tom made no answer, only continued staring as if asking you to elaborate further to relieve his confusion.

“that time of the month, tom.”

he shifted. “oh.”

you nodded, leaning against your doorframe. the pain had subsided momentarily in tom’s presence, but now that the excitement had died down, it was coming back full force.

tom said nothing, but his eyes poured into yours, and suddenly his anger had vanished and in its place was a much softer emotion he didn’t care to name. he brushed past you into your room, ignoring the questions you threw his way. retrieving your glass and plate of food, he exited your dorm and placed them on a nearby table.

he was back in an instant, pressing his hand to your lower back and silently ushering you back into your own room. he stopped in front of your bed, and you sat down. the next moment he was gone, and you weren’t aware of how long he’d been away, still trying to understand what he was doing and whether he was coming back or if that was the end of your odd exchange.

but before you knew it, he had returned with a full glass of water and a bowl of fruit. he could barely believe it himself. he didn’t care to look after people other than himself, it wasn’t in his nature, nor in his interest. and he seldom did things that weren’t in his interest.

but he found himself in the hogwarts kitchen arranging fruit in a bowl and asking specially for blackberries because he’d seen you eat them frequently.

“thank you,” you whispered, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

he looked down to you, his gaze sliding down his sharp face and onto yours. he didn’t speak much, not unless he deemed it necessary, and sometimes you appreciated this.

“you’re welcome,” he replied, sitting in the chair in the corner of your room, his ankle resting on his knee and hand gracing over his lips as his elbow rested on the arm of the chair.

it was as if he was examining you. you tried not to wince or react to the pain in your stomach for as long as you could, but eventually you couldn’t help it. tom didn’t move a muscle as he watched you.

“do you like to read?” he asked finally, cutting the tension in half.

“yes,” you answered, “my books are over there if you’d like to have a look.”

tom’s eyes flickered to where you had pointed, and he could see several titles from where he was sitting. in one swift movement he got up from the chair, slipped his hands in his pockets and stepped over to your shelf.

he selected a novel from your collection and returned to the chair.

“you can sit over here, you know.”

tom turned, looking at the space next to you on the bed. “very well.”

the mattress dipped with his weight, and you tried to control your pulse from racing just by him being so near. but his scent was intoxicating—he smelled expensive—and his thigh was almost touching yours. it was the perfect distraction from the pain, though you wouldn’t have guessed such a thing.

tom, too felt nervous, and he didn’t like to feel this way. but he suspected that this type of nervousness wouldn’t be as bothersome as the rest. he pushed the tremble in his voice down and opened the first page of ‘a room with a view’.

his deep voice was calming, diverting, too. though lucy honeychurh and george emerson’s story was also, over time his body had inched closer to yours subconsciously, and now you were touching like it was the most normal thing in the world. after a while, you’d moved back on the bed, head resting against your pillows and legs curled up into you. tom had been resistant at first to make himself comfortable, but had done as you asked and situated himself against your headboard.

bravery had taken hold of you nearly an hour into the reading session, and you dared to rest your head against tom’s shoulder. he didn’t stop reading, he didn’t move, but you could feel him stiffen ever so slightly, and then let go.

after a while, he even ventured to twist his pinky finger around yours, forcing himself to awkwardly turn the pages of the book one-handed—though neither of you were bothered about this.

it was quiet, it was intimate and private, and the moment was yours. and though it was only george and lucy who had shared an embrace, you hoped that it wouldn’t be too long before you and tom would share one of your own.

🏷 @imabee-oralizard @mad-elia @velvetcloxds @garfieldsladybird @flesh--amnesiac

💀👁️👄👁️

I have come to fulfil my quest of supplying dark!Cardan requests so here we go: set before Cardan becomes king, he and his gang on cronies are still in school and so is the reader. Her and Cardan have an on off relationship and what I mean by hat is that he degrades her consistently, makes her feel like absolute crap only to then double back on his words and claim that she’s the opposite of whatever it is that he said. This has been happening for years so you can see how the reader is confused in this situation and it escalates to a point where she debates just stop talking to him. He finds out, makes a grand plan that sets his cronies on her and for her to then crawl back to him for comfort only this time… he offers her a drink that is poisoned with something that makes her more susceptible to what he says. Do he basically says that he’s all she needs and that she’s his and what not. Have fun!

OMG THIS WAS SO SO MUCH FUN

warning: DARK SUPER DARK DO NOT GO UNDER THE CUT IF YOU FEEL UNCOMFORTABLE WITH STUFF LIKE THIS (mental and mentions of physical abuse, yandere cardan, kinda soft cardan in the end, kidnapping, allusions to stalking), also mentions of sex (like the literal word)

ANOTHER LAYER

You weren’t enough. Not for him, not for anyone.

But that was on Wednesday. On Friday, no one was good enough for you. On Friday you had him worshiping you and lavishing you in affection. 

You didn’t get it. Not one bit.

One day it was “I love you,” the next it was “And how could anyone see anything but a disgusting mortal in you?”

Either way, you remained empty and confused.

Empty, like the glass of wine on your bedside table and the heart that he claimed you owned. Empty like the embrace you were held in, the sleeping prince behind you, arm around your waist.

~*~

He didn’t know what to feel about you.

On one hand, you were mortal. On the other, you were his, and nothing of his was less than perfect.

“Let them go, Cardan,” Nicasia would sigh. “They’re not worth it.”

And that was how she got the long, jagged scar down the side of her beautiful face. 

But of course Nicasia was still beautiful. Who else would he ever compare you to on the days he couldn’t stand that you were his? But you still were at the end of it, so he would try to make it up to you.

A prince’s affection is not something to be taken lightly. 

However, you only seemed to drift away from him every time he did something like that, every time he loved you. He needed you closer.

He couldn’t breathe without you next to him.

He couldn’t live, not like this. He couldn’t live with his mind clogged up with thoughts of you.

So, if you didn’t want his love, what did you want? His hate?

If you wanted it, he’d give it to you tenfold. But the second, the very minute you wanted him fully, his love, everything he could offer you, he’d give it to you.

It hurt him more than it would hurt you.

~*~

And so here you were, once again crying into your pillow from the cruel prince’s equally cruel words. 

There were no more days that he would love you, no more days he would tell you how pretty you were. 

There was just pure hatred and sex.

That was it.

You had begun to miss those days despite the everlasting state of confusion you were always in.

He loves me. He loves me not.

He hates me.

That was it.

A knock sounded on the door, and your older sister walked in. She hated the faerie realm, but stayed for you, to protect you.

“I heard about what happened at school.”

You buried your face further in your pillow, willing your body to disappear in whatever surrounded you, air, magic, whatever.

She approached your body, sprawled on the bed. You could feel her fingers brush your back. “Do you want… would you consider leaving? We don’t have to stay once you turn eighteen-”

That was an idea. A very good one.

You loved him, you realized, but you needed to get away before he and his friends absolutely killed you. 

Your ribs twinged once again, a reminder of the afternoon.

You looked up at your sister, a woman who had so many of your features, and nodded. 

You had never seen her smile so wide.

~*~

It wasn’t working. 

You weren’t listening to him, though he supposed he couldn’t expect you to read his mind.

He could tell you to leave but he really meant to stay.

He could tell you that you were disgusting, but he really meant that you were stunning beyond belief.

But you still weren’t glued to his side as he’d hoped. In fact, you only seemed to get farther away from him, the only moments of contact being sex and whenever he laid a hand on you otherwise. Every crack produced one of equal magnitude in his heart.

Every cry that left your lips made him want to sob.

But it was for you, he remembered. So you would finally, finally give in.

But you weren’t. And he was terrified. Not only could you possibly be hurt beyond repair at any moment, he wouldn’t be able to handle it. He would crumble. 

He couldn’t afford that.

~*~

You were gone. 

He was going to give you a gift for your birthday too. 

You were nowhere to be found; your parents were sobbing, your sister and yourself gone, your rooms empty.

You weren’t there.

You had left.

You had left him.

~*~

You didn’t come back either. Not the next day, not the week after, not even the month after.

That was a problem.

Wine made it worse, as did his friends. 

But, there was one thing that made it better. The opportunity to get you back.

His father would step down soon enough. There was no way he’d ever be giving the position to his youngest son, of course, that would be preposterous. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t take it, and with it, you.

He could make anyone do anything that way. 

He could find you. His people would find you, and he would bring you home. One way or another.

And this time, he wouldn’t hate you, simply because he couldn’t. You’d be proud of him. He’d grown up.

~*~

You’d made a life for yourself. You had a job, a house, your sister.

No Cardan. Nothing binding you to the faerie world.

It was a breath of fresh air.

At least until you kept seeing little flashes of blue and green in the corners of your vision. Just little things, but not quite… concerning.

You were just being paranoid. 

~*~

He was sober. He was dressed in his most formal attire, down to the T.

He’d missed you. Beyond comprehension.

And you missed him, he hoped. But if you didn’t, there was always the vial of whatever sedative was in his pocket, if worse comes to worse. 

He didn’t want to threaten you.

So, with that, he rang the doorbell.

You’d done well for yourself, really. You didn’t do all too well, he could’ve done better if you’d just let him love you, step in and take care of you.

Leaning against the railing leading to the door of your…humble abode, he took in the garden. The smells.

You liked flowers. He took note of that.

Answering the door, you seemed to freeze.

“Prince Cardan.”

He smirked down at you, “King Cardan, actually. But you don’t have to worry about the title, love.”

Your eyes were still wide, wider when he dropped his title. You didn’t even notice the term of endearment. That was fine. There was more than enough time to let you become accustomed to love from him. You hadn’t received enough of it before. He was going to change that.

“I don’t care abou- ok, you need to go.”

“Well of course I need to go, as do you. Do you see what you’re doing to yourself in this place? You’re putting yourself down to a lesser station. You need to come home.”

Your eyes widened larger than saucers. “This is home.”

He arched one perfect brow, “No, it’s not. The palace is home, I am home. And you need to get going. This place is going to make you sick.”

“Cardan, leave.”

“I’m sorry, darling, I can’t.”

~*~

When you woke up you were somewhere other. 

Elfhame.

“You need to drink this, miss,” a servant said. Taking the cup you brought it to your lips, taking one large gulp, curing yourself of your parched throat.

But then, then you remembered. Anything could be in that cup. Any poison or enchantment.

Too late.

~*~

So there you were, two days later curled up in Cardan’s lap as he lounged on the throne, running his fingers through your hair, whispering what could be considered sweet words to you.

He did, you learned, consider them sweet. Sweet enough for you.

But, in the end, immortal and confined to the palace, they were just another layer of entrapment.

HOW UA SHOULD HAVE ENDED

Hard cut to Klaus talking to the girl on the bicycle

Klaus: “Did we save the world or screw it up again?”

Bicycle God: “You were never the problem”

She holds up an action figure of Reginald and crushes it in her bare hands. Marigold lights emerge from it. Golden light envelops everything

Hard cut to Klaus waking up in bed. He is wearing pajamas covered in marigolds.Street noise can be heard from outside.

(From offscreen) “You okay, Hon?”

Klaus looks over and Dave is cooking breakfast in their flat

Klaus: “Yeah, just had a weird dream.”

Looks out the window and sees an empty lot where the Hargreeves mansion should be.

Klaus: “Wasn’t there a building there?”

(Naïve Melody by the Talking Heads begins to play over a montage)

Diego and Lila Are wrangling their kids into the camper van. One of the kids gives Lila a picture of her family in a field of bunch of orange flowers (marigolds)

Luther is stripping and the obsessed lady in the crowd is Sloan. He has a marigold in his mouth. He takes it out and gives it to her.

Viktor is playing the violin with Harlon. Sissy is setting the table. She sets a bouquet of marigold into a center vase.

Allison is gardening while Clare and Ray play in the yard. She is planting Marigolds.

Five is teaching at some university. An older woman comes in. “Dolores” he says as she kisses him.

Jennifer serves Ben at the dinner. Closeup on her pouring coffee. He has a Durango flower tattoo that says “Jennifer” and she had a marigold tattoo that says “Ben”

Cut back to Klaus staring out the Window

Dave: No, been an empty lot as long as I can remember

Klaus, smiles: Yeah, I don’t know why I thought that

Camera Zooms out from the window as music continues

Reginald, voiceover: And that is how our unlikely heroes manage to create one timeline where everything was fine.

BTS footage plays with the final credits