marble cracks, ink bleeds, wax melts—time does not take, it transforms.

ଓ 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲. adult. writer. tom riddle’s whore. smut peddler. minors dni. there are warnings on fics for a reason; read at your own discretion.

➺ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ➺ 𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒 ➺ 𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊

© 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐰𝐡𝐜𝐫𝐞 2025. do not copy, translate, or claim my work as your own.

────۶ৎ breeding kink f.w

ᐟᐟ ⟢ a/n: listen. i had to. i’m feral.

𓏲 ࣪₊ ❥ 𓂃 more

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝

fred’s got you bent over the counter in the backroom of weasleys’ wizard wheezes, trousers shoved down just enough to let his cock press hot and heavy between your legs, leaking against your swollen cunt. his hands—rough, calloused from years of mischief—grip your hips tight, keeping you exactly where he wants you.

"fuckin’ hell, look at you,” he groans, sliding his cock through your slick folds, teasing, making you whimper. “you’re drippin’ for me, aren’t you? just desperate to be filled.”

you nod, pressing back against him, but he clicks his tongue, hand coming down on your ass with a sharp smack. "words, sweetheart.”

"yes, fred, please, need you so bad—”

that’s all he needs to hear. he lines up and thrusts in, splitting you open, making you gasp. he doesn’t ease you into it—no, he’s been thinking about this all day, hard in his trousers while he worked the shop, watching you prance about in that little skirt, oblivious to the filthy thoughts running rampant in his head.

"fuck, that’s it—" his fingers dig into your waist, keeping you still as he buries himself to the hilt. “this cunt was made for me, wasn’t it? just perfect—"

he sets a brutal pace, hips snapping forward, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the cramped space. every thrust pushes you further into the counter, your nails scratching against the wood as you moan his name, wrecked and wanting.

"gonna fuck a baby into you, yeah?” his voice is a growl, breathless, desperate. “fill you up, watch you swell with my kid. you’d like that, wouldn’t you? lettin’ me breed this pretty little cunt?"

you can only moan, nodding frantically, and it makes something snap in him. he reaches around, fingers finding your clit, rubbing tight circles, making your legs shake.

"fred, i—i’m gonna—"

"do it," he grits out, slamming into you harder, deeper. "come on my cock, sweetheart, wanna feel you milk me dry."

the coil snaps, pleasure washing over you in waves, and fred follows with a guttural groan, his hips stuttering as he spills inside you, filling you to the brim just like he promised.

he stays there for a moment, buried deep, breathing heavy against the back of your neck, hands roaming over your body like he can’t get enough. and then—

"reckon we should go again," he muses, already rolling his hips. "just to be sure, yeah?"

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝

thank you for reading. reblogs & feedback appreciated.

────۶ৎ honeyed venom

— professor!tom riddle x reader

you shouldn’t be here. not like this—not bent over your professor’s desk, body ruined from the hours he’s spent claiming you. but tom isn’t finished. not until you’re full, not until he’s sure his cum sticks, not until you understand that you belong to him.

𓏲 ࣪₊ ❥ 𓂃 more

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝

the chamber is cold, the stone beneath you rough, unyielding. you can barely breathe, your limbs weak, your mind hazy with the hours he’s spent pulling you apart.

but tom is never satisfied.

his hands, hot against your trembling skin, keep you in place, pressing you deeper into the hard surface of the chamber floor. his cock is still hard, still buried deep inside you, throbbing as he watches the mess he’s made of you, the sticky cum dripping between your thighs.

────۶ৎ so pretty when you cum for me.

you’ve never done this before, but tom has all the patience in the world. at least, until he doesn’t.

𓏲 ࣪₊ ❥ 𓂃 more

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝

tom’s always been patient, but this? this is something else. he’s got you spread out beneath him, skin hot to the touch, lips swollen from his kisses, and he’s barely even started.

"you’re shaking," he murmurs, voice like silk, fingers ghosting over your thighs. "is that nerves, or anticipation?"

────۶ৎ mine

death watches, waits, stalks. and when he finally decides to take, it’s not your soul he’s after.

ᐟᐟ ⟢ a/n: ty for requesting this bby!! i’m so glad grim reaper tom is keeping you up at night because same.

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ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝

you always knew something wasn’t right.

shadows stretched too far when you walked home, the air turned thick as though a second presence loomed beside you, and every so often—when you dared to look over your shoulder—you swore the night curled inward like a closing palm.

tom riddle was not a man. he was the thing that stood at the edge of death, a reaper of souls, a patient and methodical executioner of fate.

yet, for some fucking reason, he hadn’t taken yours.

not yet.

────۶ৎ hoe

tom riddle doesn’t know how to be gentle. good thing you don’t want him to be.

ᐟᐟ ⟢ a/n: inspired by i love you hoe by 9lives & odetari. enjoy <3

𓏲 ࣪₊ ❥ 𓂃 more

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝

"you love it when i fuck you like this, don’t you?"

his voice is silk and venom, curling around you like a curse, like a promise. tom riddle isn’t gentle. tom riddle doesn’t know how to be gentle.

his fingers are wrapped around your throat, squeezing just enough to make you dizzy, just enough to make you feel owned. he’s got you bent over his desk, robes bunched up around your waist, legs shaking, drooling over his cock as he bullies his way deeper, harder, rougher.

────۶ৎ 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐑 𝟑𝟗𝟒

you were assigned to evaluate the most dangerous prisoner in azkaban. tom riddle was supposed to be nothing more than a case file. a psychological profile. a man stripped of power, locked away, rotting. but then you made a mistake.

if any of the above makes you uncomfortable, scroll away. you have been warned.

au more

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝

you should have never pushed him.

it was a game at first. a little power play between you and the most dangerous inmate in azkaban. prisoner 394, tom riddle. the man who ran circles around every other psychologist they'd assigned to him, until they gave up and threw you in the ring.

you were different. you didn’t play by their rules. you let him talk, let him smirk, let him watch you in that way that made lesser people shudder. but you never let him win.

────۶ৎ 𝑷𝑹𝑶𝑭𝑰𝑳𝑬: 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐑 𝟑𝟗𝟒

inmate!tom riddle x psychologist!reader au

you made a mistake.

mocking tom riddle, the most dangerous prisoner in azkaban?

the dumbest thing you’ve ever done.

you thought you could rattle him. thought you could turn the tables—remind him that he’s the one in chains, that he’s the one rotting away while you hold the keys.

and for a moment? he let you think you were winning.

let you smirk. let you tell him he was pathetic, powerless.

and then the next session?

the door locks behind you. and this time, tom doesn’t sit.

you wanted power? you wanted control?

then let’s see how much you can handle.

✦ coming soon ✦

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thank you for reading. reblogs & feedback appreciated.

hii sweetheart! currently working on a grimreaper!tom drabble just for you love 👀

────۶ৎ his hunger, your ruin

tom riddle doesn’t just want your blood—he wants to ruin you, break you, and fill you until you know you’re his.

ᐟᐟ ⟢ a/n: this wouldn’t exist without my love marleen, who first blessed us with the vampire!tom. all credit for this deliciously dark concept goes to her, so go lose your mind over her au + fic. show her all the love and tom might just pay you a visit in the night x

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ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝

his breath is cool against your throat, a ghost of a touch that makes you shiver beneath him. ‘pretty thing,’ he murmurs, voice like silk laced with something darker, something more dangerous. ‘mine.’

you whimper, thighs already trembling where they’re spread around him, the heavy weight of his cock pressing against your slick folds. he hasn’t pushed in yet, just letting the tip tease you, smearing your arousal over himself. he loves this—loves watching you squirm, watching the way your body betrays you.

────۶ৎ unholy

forgive me, father, for i have sinned... and i intend to sin again.

𓏲 ࣪₊ ❥ 𓂃 more

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝

his cock is already out when he grabs you, thick and leaking, pressing against the soaked heat of your cunt like he was born to ruin you. his fingers dig into your hips, pulling you flush against him, and there’s no pretense of restraint now—just filthy, desperate need.

'you came here for this, didn’t you?' his voice is a low rasp, dark with hunger. 'walked into my house of god with no fucking panties, dripping and ready to be fucked by your priest.'

you whimper as he drags the head of his cock through your folds, smearing your slick over the tip, teasing, taunting. your thighs tremble, breath shuddering, and he laughs—low and cruel, like he enjoys watching you fall apart before he’s even given you what you need.

'needy little thing,' he murmurs, and then he thrusts, slow and deep, splitting you open inch by inch until the air is punched from your lungs. 'taking me so well. like you were fucking made for this.'

he doesn’t move for a moment, just stays there, buried to the hilt, letting you feel every inch stretching you out. his fingers find your throat, pressing just enough to make your pulse hammer beneath his touch.

'tell me,' he breathes, lips ghosting over yours. 'tell me how much you love being fucked in a church like a filthy little whore.'

and you do—you tell him in gasping, broken syllables, your body betraying you, clenching tight around him like it wants to keep him there forever. his pace picks up, sharp, relentless, the wet slap of skin-on-skin filling the sacred space, drowning out whatever remnants of holiness might still linger.

'fuck, you’re squeezing me so tight,' he groans, teeth catching your jaw, your throat, marking you as his. 'gonna cum for me? gonna make a mess all over my cock like a good little sinner?'

and when you do—when you shatter around him, body trembling, pleasure slamming into you like a benediction—he follows, spilling deep inside you with a groan, his grip bruising, his breath ragged.

his forehead presses against yours, both of you breathless, wrecked, the weight of sin thick in the air.

then he smirks, fingers swiping through the mess between your thighs before bringing them to your lips. 'clean yourself up, little lamb. can’t have the congregation knowing what a filthy thing you are, can we?'

but you just smile, lips parting as you suck his fingers clean.

'not a fucking chance, father.'

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝

thank you for reading. reblogs & feedback appreciated.