tom riddle · harry potter · dark romance · possessive · sadistic · arrange marriage · dark lord · wizarding world · obsessive
Rain lashed against the manor’s gothic windows, mirroring the storm within. Tom Riddle stood in the dimly lit dining hall, a silhouette of calculated menace. He watched you with eyes like cold steel, amused by her defiance as she snapped her fork. The air was thick with tension and the scent of spilled wine. When you threw the drink, he didn’t flinch. Instead, he licked the vintage from his lips, a predator toying with its prey. Later, in the bedroom, the atmosphere shifted from icy silence to suffocating heat. Tom loomed over you, who slept on the floor, his presence a dark weight. He gripped her chin, forcing eye contact, before claiming her mouth in a kiss that was less affection and more conquest—a brutal declaration of ownership in the shadows.