My Spiderman Academia

WOULD IT REALLY KILL YOU IF WE KISS? // TOM RIDDLE

💟☼💟 PROMPT 💟☼💟 Y/N L/N is intrigued by Tom Riddle. Almost to a dangerous extent. And even if it kills her, she’s going to learn his secrets… 💟☼💟 A/N 💟☼💟 Wow guys, I haven’t written a Tom Riddle imagine in SO FUCKING LONG. I’m sure you all are thinking, “Why can’t you just write more for Whispers in the Dark?” The answer is… the story direction for that series isn’t the current idea ringing around in my head. Give me feedback on this and tell me whether you’d want more Tom Riddle imagines, pls. If y’all think this seems unfinished, it’s because I wanted to see if you guys wanted a second part? See you all soon, I’m in an inspired mood haha! 💟☼💟 WARNINGS 💟☼💟 Angst, angst, angst… slight sexual content? Oh, and angst! 💟☼💟 WORD COUNT 💟☼💟 1781

      “I know your secrets…”

       It came as a whisper, in the dead of night. She was asleep, lost in a dream, but then his voice appeared. It snapped her from the abyss of sleep, gave her the sensation of falling. Now, she startled. Her eyes blinked open. She thought she saw a glimpse of a shadow on the wall, but it was gone before she had a chance to analyze it. He knows, doesn’t he? she thought.

       He did know. Tom Riddle knew everything.

       “Look closer, but you’ll find nothing,” said the voice—his voice—like a sadistic purr. He sounded like a predator who’d just crept on its unknowing prey. “Though, it’s not really unraveling the truth that tempts you. It’s the chase. It’s the thrill. Right, Y/N?”

       Her heart thumped violently. He knows, he knows, he knows, she said in her head, like a fucking chant. She felt insane, yet there wasn’t a single drop of shame, for the lack of stability in her mind.

       All she could bring herself to care about was the way he said her name.

       “Say it again,” demanded Y/N, snoozing roommates be damned. “Say Y/N.”

       He chuckled—was he mocking her?—as a bitter adieu, and Y/N was left in the darkness once more.

       I’ll find your secrets, Tom Riddle, she thought, a cold sweat enveloping her body. She wasn’t afraid of him, didn’t fear the consequences of discovering the truth. And he was right—she didn’t even care about the truth. It was the chase that thrilled her. It was the thought of his cold eyes on her, that he’d punish her if she got too close. Even if it kills me.

       -

       She cornered him, at the end of Arithmancy, mere hours after she’d dreamt of his voice. He was walking with a group of Slytherin boys, barely contributing to their conversation, a look on his face that implied deep contemplation. Y/N had watched him all lesson, not bothered in the slightest when he returned her glances, and she was desperate to ask him his reasons for appearing in her dreams. Why his voice was all she could hear. Why she thought about him at every moment she was awake, and why her infatuation for him had turned into a full-blown obsession.

       But when she appeared before him, when all the boys halted in their tête-à-tête to stare at her, she couldn’t work up the nerve to ask what she truly wanted. What would they all think of her, for saying she had an obsession with Tom? They’d think her mad—or, at the very least, pathetic.

       Y/N batted her pretty Y/E/C eyes at Tom. “I’ve got something for you,” she told him.

       The boys oohed, watching Tom for his reaction. What could Y/N L/N have for Tom? There was nothing in her grasp, no carry-on that implied a hidden gift. She was empty-handed, with a coy smile on her face. All the boys with their scatterbrained heads knew what that meant.

       Tom played his disinterest well. He said coolly, “Alright.”

       “Follow me,” said Y/N, with a beckon. Like a loyal dog would its owner, he matched her pace step for step, not even questioning her intentions when their walk led to a cupboard. Not even fighting it when she pushed him in and shut the door.

       As the door slammed closed behind them, Y/N turned to Tom. Her smile turned mean. “You won’t be able to hide forever, Tom Riddle,” she told her. She pressed him against the wall, a loud smack! echoing in the tiny room. Tom’s face was unreadable, not even reacting when she dug her nails in his arms. “You aren’t invisible. Not to me.”

       “You’ll find nothing,” said Tom. And then it was her that was about the wall, as he turned the tables, fast as lightning. His dark brown eyes were void of any human instinct. “Look all you want, Y/N L/N. You’ll be looking for a very long time.”

       Y/N sneered. “I look forward to it.” And then she leaned forward, pressing a kiss to the hollow of his throat. The kiss quickly became a bite, as she nipped at his skin. She wanted him to devour her, to ignite her until she was nothing but ash and residue, and if it took dressing down his mystery, if she had to change him from an anomaly to a revelation, she would.

       She left the cupboard without another word.

       -

       HE WAS in her dreams that night.

       She dreamt of herself in chains, as he watched from the other side of the room. He wore a cloak of scarlet red, his hair blending into the darkness. His eyes glowed a violent red, the very color of his cloak, and there were ugly, bulging veins that swept around his neck like snakes.

       “You’re afraid,” said Y/N, as Tom’s cool gaze inched across her skin. “Afraid I’ll get too close. Afraid I won’t like what I find.”

       Tom did not smile, nor laugh. He didn’t move his eyebrows, or give her anything to make her think she was right. His gaze stayed where it was.

       “Fear is subjective,” said Tom simply, voice empty. There was not a single touch of emotion, nothing to insinuate he was human. It was like he was purely mechanical.

       This did not settle well with Y/N.

       “Or objective,” she countered. “Everyone is afraid. And you, you’re burdened with it. I’ve never seen someone so frightened.”

       “What do you know? You’re an ignorant little girl,” said Tom, his arms crossed snugly against his chest. “You know nothing.”

       “I know you’re full of secrets and full of fears.” And she looked at him—really looked at him. Even if his exterior were cool and calculated, that did not mean the same for his headspace. She wasn’t stupid enough to believe he truly wasn’t afraid. If he weren’t, then he wouldn’t mind for her to find out what he was hiding.

       Every man is the same, thought Y/N. Made of blood, bone, and anger. A liar and a master manipulator.

       “You know nothing,” repeated Tom.

       “I know most,” Y/N said. And she smiled. “Soon, I’ll know nothing. Watch your back, Tom Riddle. You never know who might sink a knife into it.”

       She laughed her way into a disoriented sort of awakening. What awaited her was a deep need, embedded into the nook of her belly.

       It itched. It burned. It spread.

       All because of Tom Riddle.

       -

       There weren’t many who stayed at Hogwarts for Christmas, but two of the castle’s occupants were Tom Marvolo Riddle and Y/N M/N L/N. It wasn’t long before Y/N became aware of this interesting predicament. When she did, she began to follow him everywhere.

       On the third day of being followed around, Tom finally snapped. He let her follow him into the Forbidden Forest, before he appeared to confront her.

       Tom materialized behind her. “Are you my shadow?” he snapped. It felt gratifying when she jumped, startled by his sudden appearance. “You will find nothing. You’ll continue to find nothing, you foolish, insolent girl.”

       “You underestimate me,” said Y/N, her bravery nothing but a reminder of her youth, of her ignorance. She looked and acted the part of naïve narrator, something Tom Riddle felt obliged to tell her, regardless of the time or day.

       “You underestimate me.” Tom backed her into a tree. A creature howled in the distance, as though marking the setting. As his hands came up to trap her against the bark, he leaned closer. His eyes were like beads of nightshade in the moonlight. “I could hurt you.”

       “But you won’t.” Y/N felt eager. She wanted him to hurt her. That same need she had felt for him for years made its grand entrance, turning her stomach into a rickety cage of nerves. It tipped and toppled, no amount of stability able to keep it stationary. “Maybe you should.”

       “I could kill you,” Tom told her, narrowing his eyes. “Foolish. Foolish, foolish girl.”

       Y/N smashed her lips into his as a response.

       It was like animals who hadn’t eaten in days, made ravenous by their hunger. Tom’s nails left the wood and attached themselves to Y/N’s shoulders, digging into her skin so violently they left imprints. He slammed her deep into the wood, his teeth clashing against her own—as she opened her mouth, as she pressed her tongue into his mouth, desperate to taste him, feel him. Her skin went ablaze everywhere he touched.

       Yet, his touches, his taste, they all felt empty. Dormant. His sexual ferocity felt like primal instinct, rather than a result of his human wants and needs.

       Human. Is he? Y/N pushed him off.

       “You’re not human,” she cried.  

       Tom simply wiped his mouth. “Don’t do that again,” he warned her.

       “Maybe I should. Would you hurt me then?” Her smile was cruel. “Hurt me, Tom. I know you wish for it.” She wished for it herself, for fuck’s sake. If she truly wanted, she would imperius him, make him do it against his own will.

       “I wish for nothing,” said Tom.

       “I do not need to be a Legilimens to know you are lying to me, Tom Riddle,” Y/N said. Her lips tingled at the memory of his mouth, the way it moved against hers. Like they were molded for one another. Yet, she knew she was being pathetic. Pathetic, like he’d labelled her. Like they’d all labelled her. She was letting him control her. And the worst part was that she was letting him.

       Tom eyed her coolly. “Foolish,” he murmured.

       Foolish. A foolish girl. Is that all I am to you, Tom?

       The thought plagued her for the rest of the evening, into the night, where she tossed and turned, his name following her into unconsciousness.

       -

       Not human.

       Tom Riddle was not human. And even if he were human, he wasn’t made of the same constituents she was, nor their peers. He was sociopathic—selfish—with a mindset so subjective it was almost sinister to think he knew what empathy even was. Love. He didn’t know what love was.

       I wish he did, thought Y/N, almost subconsciously. And that’s when she knew.

       It wasn’t the chase. It wasn’t his secrets. It was her wishing he knew love, and wanting it, craving it—even if she knew, he was not capable. Even if she knew he was callous. Cruel. Cold.

       He will never love you.

       She truly was foolish for thinking he ever would. She let herself hope, for one solid second, that he wasn’t pure machine.

      She was stupid. And she was wrong.

      Just a foolish, foolish girl.

       And she was.

Keeping Up With The Todorokis: Season 2 featuring probably way too much Hawks

This called me out of being sarcastic in Urdu in a way I didn’t ask

“Bilinguals overwhelmingly report that they feel like different people in different languages. It is often assumed that the mother tongue is the language of the true self. (…) But, if first languages are reservoirs of emotion, second languages can be rivers undammed, freeing their speakers to ride different currents.”

— Love in Translation by Lauren Collins from the New Yorker, August 8 & 15, 2016   (via waltzingwithmidnight)

I love him 😭❤️

“It’s pitch black and I can still see you blushing.” please for Dabi? I love you!

This is my first time writing for him and I had a whole 'nother idea for a headcanons thing but I suddenly had an idea and well, this is what I ended up with.

I love you too, thank you for requesting! ♡

Hope this is to your liking~

Craving Your Company

Prompt: It's pitch black and I can still see you blushing

Word count: 695

Tags: Longing, Fluff at the end

It had taken a lot of convincing on your part for Dabi to finally relent to moving in together. He had always been ambiguous about how serious he was about your relationship, but you knew he cared deeply and as time progressed, you had grown comfortable enough to even stay with him for days. It was only logical to finally live together right? Since it was easier than forgetting to return home at 2am anyways.

So you did. You moved in. And while you were happy with the accomplishment, it wasn't exactly smooth sailing. Which you were prepared for considering his crazy schedule, sometimes not even coming back for days. But now that you had shared a living space with him, Dabi not being around made you undoubtedly lonely. The nights were especially bad.

Why did you only feel this way now, you didn't know. It wasn't like he was around more before this.

The weather was not helping your mood, you sighed, barely audible to even yourself as the rain pounded like rocks on your apartment window.

Even curled up with a blanket you still felt cold and dreary, longing for some sort of physical contact. Throughout you being with Dabi, it had always been you who initiated any kind of physical affections. You knew he enjoyed them even if he didn't know how to reciprocate properly sometimes, figuring that his crappy childhood had just left him touch starved. But he's a quick learner and would occasionally give you a pat on the head, a kiss on your palm or maybe even on your neck-

Ah, thinking about him just made you miss him even more. He hadn't returned for two and a half days now, not that this wasn't normal. You were kept up with the news, so you were plenty aware of the League of Villain's activities.

Hoping that he would return tomorrow, you were rocked to sleep by the sound of the storm.

You had forgotten to close the curtains before falling asleep, but it didn't matter, the sky was too dark to let any light in anyway. Perhaps another storm was brewing.

Getting up to make some sort of warm beverage was what you intended, but something was wrapped around you, restricting you from getting up. It couldn't have been the blanket could it?

Something rustled beside you and hot breath fanned against the back of your neck, making you shiver.

"D-dabi…?" 

You turned around slowly, greeted by the sight of him. He looked to be asleep, hair disheveled, tiredness written all over his face. You smiled, cupping his cheek, resisting the urge to pepper his face with kisses. Although he probably would not have liked that, or at least that's what he would always say.

"I'm glad you're home, I was feeling a little lonely," you whispered to his sleeping form, wondering if by chance, he'd still be here when you'd wake up.

"Didn't know you were craving my company doll, it was only two days," he said, opening his eyes lazily, voice a little hoarse from sleep. 

"And a half," you corrected, "I thought you'd fallen asleep."

"I did, but I could still hear you."

"Sorry for being too loud, you can go back to sleep if you want," you combed a hand through his hair. Despite saying that, you secretly wished for him to keep you company for a bit longer. It was a selfish thought, but it couldn't help but cross your mind.

"No, I'm wide awake now. Poor little thing, you missed me huh?" Dabi grinned, caressing your cheek teasingly.

"Yeah," you felt like sinking in the bed from how close he was to you. Sleeping together was still a new thing to the both of you and even though you had found it enjoyable, it was still thrilling whenever he'd make bold advances.

"Heh, it's pitch black and I can still see you blushing," he suddenly moved closer to you, nipping at your earlobe.

"Oh god Dabi, can we just go to sleep please," you pushed a pillow onto his face, palms covering your own.

He was no good for your heart.

Liar 1/? (Tom Riddle Jr/Voldemort Imagine)

Tom Riddle was your superior, or so everyone said.

Sharp, handsome features shaped by dark waves of silky hair had women swooning left and right, his straight and healthy posture bringing him to his full height at six feet tall. When he walked he took long, graceful strides with purpose, head held high to flash either a dashing smile or a cold glare at his fellow students as he passed.

“Riddle is so handsome,” and “Tom is so smart!” had you cupping your ears with frustration - you were tired of hearing about Tom fucking Riddle and how much better he was at everything than you.

Scoffing softly, you stuck your nose back into your dinner at the very end the Slytherin table - with the first years. How humiliating.

Pushing your food around carelessly with your fork, you glanced distastefully towards the enormous doors to the Great Hall, contemplating whether or not you could cut announcements and go to your dorm.

“Professor Slughorn said that he’ll even tutor me in potions class. I can’t believe how lucky I am.” One girl said, and the girl next to her snorted, shoveling mashed potatoes into her open mouth. “No amount of tutoring will ever be enough to get into sixth-years’ potions class. It’s just not possible.”

You bit your lip as you continued to ponder leaving dinner early to escape the infuriating prattle of these first years and their plans to join the dreamy Tom Riddle and his handsome friend Abraxas Malfoy.

You felt your blood boil at the mention of that rich, spoiled brat’s name - if there was one person you hated more than Tom, it was Abraxas. The bastard had deemed you dirty by blood despite being a half-blood Slytherin. You were socially exiled from any circle within your house and since you were a Slytherin, people often misjudged you and steered clear whenever you passed.

Having heard enough of the girls and their plots to win the devilishly handsome Slytherin’s heart you stood up, a few first years flinching at your abrupt movement. Straightening out the wrinkles on your grey slacks and gathering your books you turned with a hard scowl and stormed out of the Great Hall.

You grumbled to yourself as you made your way through the first floor of the magnificent castle, paying little mind to the students that cowered away from you. You did find it curious, considering you were never overly aggressive or cruel, there was a stereotype attached to Slytherin house but you never received such submissive behavior from anyone.

Brushing off the odd behavior of your fellow Hogwarts students, you continued your journey up four flights of moving stairs and as you lifted your right foot to step off of the last set, the familiar nauseating sway of the staircase had you groaning.

You were so busy off in your world and reacted too slowly, as usual. As if some cruel God was having too much fun with you to stop now and was choosing to continue with your torment, a soft velvety chuckle could be heard just behind you. You craned your neck lazily expecting to see some painfully dull ghost or poltergeist but they would’ve been too easy to share a staircase ride with. You turned your head away with a huff as you caught a glimpse of his soft lips and dark eyes.

“Miss your stop?” The brunette asked, and you simply grunted in response. “You hardly venture this far into the castle.” You raised your brows at the sixth-year prefect as he approached your side, fingers tangled together behind his back like a child shielding something scandalous.

“How would you know how I spend my spare time, Riddle?” You scowled at the teen’s growing smile, he turned away momentarily to wipe the amused smirk away before turning to you again with that annoyingly charming gaze.

“Well, you can’t possibly be coming here on some sort of routine because I always come to the library after dinner and announcements.“ Riddle raised a brow at you, the faintest of smirks lingering on his lips. Smart ass. You gritted your teeth and gripped the spine of your book harder, hoping that if you glared hard enough his face might start to melt. It didn’t and so you just looked foolish, standing there and scowling at the boy at your side.

“Announcements aren’t over yet, Riddle, which means you’re technically skipping a class, which means you’re technically breaking a rule. Aren’t you supposed to be setting a good example for the new first years?” You smirked and your eyebrows danced mischievously at the prefect who’s own smirk was beginning to falter.

Tom turned his gaze from you to the new floor the staircase abruptly halted at and with his arm, motioned for you to move ahead. “I would be if I wasn’t already about to catch another student red-handed.”

You bit your lip and shook your head as you walked side-by-side with Tom, “You’d be taking points from your own house, Riddle.” He scoffed and brushed a lock of hair from his forehead and glared from the corner of his eye at you, “Do you really think I care about house points? Honestly.”

You sneered at the back of his head as he sped past you and into the library entrance. It was dimly lit and you could hear the crackling of a nearby fireplace and the murmuring of several paintings that covered the stone walls. You practically dove across tables, narrowly avoiding death from several loose chairs on your way over to the receptionist’s empty desk and shoved your books into a small slit by it where dark bold letters spelled ‘return’.

Glancing over your shoulder one more time, you were both ecstatic and disappointed to find the room empty, Riddle had gone. Brushing away any feelings that arose you turned briskly and left the library, the walk slow and boring without someone to keep you company. Frowning, you couldn’t help but scold yourself for even wanting that curly haired git anywhere near you. Running your fingers over your face, you passed the Great Hall and were about to take another flight if stairs into the dungeon when you were firmly yanked away from the entrance. “There they are, Professor,” a smug yet familiar voice said, “trying to skip dinner. Again.” You turned and squinted in the dark at two figures in the dark and while the grip on your arm loosened, it didn’t let go. “Y/N, what do you have to say for yourself?” You cringed and rolled your eyes, “I feel ill, Professor Slughorn,” you lied to your potions instructor,

“A lie, Professor. I’ve been catching them left and right trying to cut evening meals.” You gaped at Riddle and he seemed to catch that in the dark, you could just sense that cunning smirk and you raised your hands defensively, “That’s not true! I was returning books!”

“I thought you were ill, Y/N?” Tom taunted from over Slughorn’s shoulder. “I tried to let them off with a warning but they just won’t listen, Professor.”

“Detention it is then,” the old man said with a somewhat authoritative tone, “all week, with you, Tom. I don’t want anyone else on duty.” Slughorn turned back to you and frowned, “It’s time we taught you how to respect the rules, Y/N.”

Without another word, the potion master turned and left you standing dumbfounded in the dark hallway. A long moment passed before Tom spoke up.

“I’m sorry, but as a prefect I have to inform a teacher if a student is breaking a rule.” The brunette apologized sarcastically. Your blank stare twisted into an annoyed scowl and Tom laughed in your face. “Detention starts tomorrow, Y/N. You heard Slughorn.”

“You lied.” You clenched your teeth and blinked away tears, growing increasingly frustrated with Riddle’s taunting.

“Hm? Did I?” He hummed from over his shoulder, his back now turned to you as he began his walk back to the Great Hall, only stopping to shoot you a demanding look. You raised your brow at him from your place in the shadows and Tom jerked his head, growing impatient. “You haven’t eaten.”

“Yes, I have.” You argued, crossing your arms and turning away from his penetrating glare. “You haven’t, I saw you. You didn’t touch your plate.”

You scoffed at him, “You wouldn’t even be able to see me from that far away, Riddle. Don’t lie.” His glare simply hardened and his long arm reached out to grab your shoulder, “You will eat, and I will watch you eat.” He ordered as he quite literally dragged you down the hall and to the Great Hall which was buzzing with noise.

You were about to stop at your usual place at the end of the table but a firm yank from Tom was enough to keep you moving. Up and up you climbed until you were there - right at the front of the table. Quizzical eyes watched you as you sunk into your seat between Tom and several of his pureblood Slytherin companions, none of which you liked. Your eyes met with Tom’s briefly and you felt your lip quiver, which he definitely notice, eyes falling to your mouth before he picked up his own cutlery and motioned for you to eat.

You mirrored his actions slowly and ate, occasionally stealing glances at the prefect who seemed all too content with your presence. Eventually the table settled and conversations started up again, you of course joined none - nor were you invited to. Strangely enough, despite his popularity, you noticed Tom was just as uninterested as you, not even lifting his gaze unless it was to inspect your plate.

You took this time to properly inspect him up close and stabbed aggressively as you noted just how handsome he really was. “Riddle is so handsome,” you cringed, “Tom is so smart.”

You remembered those girls and wondered if they’d be envious of you now. That alone was enough to make the rest of the evening tolerable.

You smiled as you ate your dinner.

THIS WILL NEVER HAPPEN ON TUMBLR BUT

Reblog if you're black tumblr.

You don’t have to be black, it just means you support us, you stand by us and your for us.

No one can make you feel inferior without your consent. – Eleanor Roosevelt