“𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐮𝐩”

and if? hm, and if?

Smutmas 2024 | ᴛᴏᴍ ʀɪᴅᴅʟᴇ X ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Celebrating Him.

Short summary: waking up next to your boyfriend on his birthday has its perks.

Warnings: 18+ only! brief oral m!receiving, unprotected p in v, slight begging

A/N: Happy 98th Birthday to this handsome granddaddy. Celebrating Her dropping on my birthday! (soon🤭)

wordcount: 2,0k

Your eyelids flutter open as warm rays of sunshine from outside shimmer onto your face. Something quite unusual at this time of the year. It’s the 31st of December, New Year’s Eve. Tom’s birthday. A smile creeps onto your lips at that thought.

Tom’s birthday. He has always hated celebrating his special day, telling you year after year that you didn‘t need to get him anything, yet you always did. Just like this year. And alongside that, a little treat before you two leave the bedroom.

Slowly, you turn around to face his still sleeping form next to you on the bed. You’ve always adored how pretty his brunette curls looked when he didn’t have them done, messily falling onto his forehead as he sleeps. Normally he’d tell you off for staring at him for a prolonged time, though now? You could do it for as long as you pleased without him noticing. He looks peaceful like this, angelic almost, a stark contrast to his otherwise harsh nature, to how he portrays himself to the outside world. It’s just you who would get to see his vulnerable side on the occasion, such as right now. Only rarely you’d wake before him, mostly he would already be up at his desk, either working or reading the newspaper until you woke.

You appreciate the quiet moments before he wakes. A soft smile graces your lips as he mumbles something inaudible in his sleep. The duvet has slipped slightly, revealing his toned arms and shoulders. His hands rest on the mattress, fingers relaxed and gently curled.

You’d love to caress his soft skin then, trail your fingertips along the inside of his arm up to the crease of his elbow, and back down. Though you stop yourself in time. You decide to let him rest, get his sleep when he can, allow him a slow start to a day he normally despises.

Minutes pass after this, taking in his form as your smile increasingly widens.

Hell, you were a true fool for this man. And you wouldn’t want it any other way.

“You have been staring at me for an awfully long time, darling.” Tom murmurs then, not bothering to open his eyes.

You sigh softly, your head dropping back onto the pillow. “For how long have you been awake?”

“Ever since you turned around.” He replies quietly, voice still thick with sleep. Normally he would have already gotten up by this point, though now he doesn’t even stir.

“You are impossible,” you whisper, scooting closer to him to place a tender kiss on his full lips with a smile. “Happy Birthday, Tom.”

It’s then when he opens his eyes, his rich, deep brown eyes that draw you right in with their intensity. The eyes you fell in love with in the first place, now locked onto yours, igniting a familiar fire between the both of you. “And you know exactly how I feel about that,” he reminds you, swiping a strand of loose hair from your face, never breaking eye contact.

“Mhmmm. Certainly do,” you murmur against his lips, placing a gentle kiss on them before you continue. “Although you deserve a little treat, don’t you think?”

Tom huffs softly, raising one of his eyebrows knowingly. “And what would that be?”

You grin, revealing his bare chest as you tug the duvet aside, not wasting another second before you swing your leg over his hip, straddling him. “Let me show you, Tommy.” The complaint he was about to make dies in his throat as your lips trail kisses down his neck, starting at his jawline.

Tom hums as your teeth occasionally sink into his skin, hands firmly gripping your waist. You take your time with him, nipping and gnawing at his skin, placing kisses on his chest as you feel him grow hard beneath you. To your surprise he doesn’t stop you, though as soon as you grind your hips along his hardened length, even just slightly so, his arms still you. “Sweetheart.” His eyes lock onto yours, the warning evident in his voice. A gentle reminder not to push too far.

 “What’s the matter?” You retort, innocently smiling back at him, fingertips tracing along his exposed V-line. Goosebumps form on his skin as you do, grip loosening the tiniest bit, and you take the opportunity to move yourself once more, moaning softly as the slight friction sends a wave of pleasure straight to your core. You feel his muscles tense beneath you, and with one swift motion, he sits up, his face a mere breath away from yours, eyebrows drawn together.

“If you think this is how—“ Tom begins, voice laced with growing frustration as he firmly holds onto one of your wrists. Your lips curl up into a smirk, gaze wandering to his mouth as he speaks. Before he can finish, you press a finger to his lips, silencing him mid-sentence. “Shhh,” you whisper, capturing him in another kiss.

“Please let me make you feel good, Tom. Just this once,” you breathe, a plea almost, as you break apart. He glances at you for another moment before he exhales deeply, slowly lowering himself back down onto the soft mattress. “Go on, then.”

His confirmation is all you need before you slip further down the bed, positioning yourself in between his legs, the rest of his clothing long discarded on the floor. You rest your hand on his thigh, muscles tensing under your touch. You take one last glance at his expression, innocently smiling at him before your other hand firmly palms his swollen length. Tom’s eyebrows furrow at the contact, lips parting slightly. When you then softly swipe the pad of your thumb over his sensitive tip, his hips involuntarily jerk up into your touch and a soft hiss falls over his lips. The corner of your mouth tugs up at his reaction, satisfaction flickering in your eyes. You repeat what you did, letting your fingertip brush over the delicate skin once more.

“If you don’t- “ he groans, lowly, eyes falling shut in restraint, “fucking do something, I promise-“

It takes everything in you not to let your enjoyment show. Him beneath you, so desperate for your touch. Something he would certainly seek revenge on later. But for now? He was yours to play with.

You lick a torturously slow stripe along a vein stretching from his base to his tip until you decide to grant him his wish, wrapping your full lips around his tip at first, swirling your tongue around it. Tom’s response, a sharp inhale, cuts through the silence, his fingers tangling in your hair. He doesn’t guide you—barely even holds on to you. As soon as your head moves up and down his dick, a strangled groan escapes him, and you peek up at him through your eyelashes. His cheeks have a faint rosy touch to them, eyebrows furrowed as he meets your gaze. “More— Merlin, you can do-“ a grunt interrupts him as he twitches inside of you, “better than this.”

“The question is, do you deserve more?” you taunt, a small grin playing on your face, briefly stroking him up and down with your hand. “Do it. Before I— make you. Merlin, you wouldn’t want me to make you.” He rasps lowly and with that, you let your head sink down again, as far as you possibly can this time.

You know he is close when his eyes lose focus, chest rising and falling quicker, eyebrows drawing together as his cock twitches in your mouth. You release him then, kissing his tip once more.

“Don’t- don’t you dare stop now.” Tom warns, but before he can do anything, you are undressed, back on top of him. “Not going to.” You reply with a smirk, positioning yourself on his hard length, stiff against his lower abdomen.

And it’s everything—having him beneath you, being in control of his pleasure. Something so foreign to you, fresh adrenaline is racing through your veins at the sight.

“Darling. You are aware of how thin my patience is. I suggest you don’t test it.”

You lean forward, hands splayed across his chest, and then you move. Slowly grinding yourself on his length, coating him with your arousal, moaning as his tip brushes against your puffy clit, a jolt of electricity sent through your body at the contact.

He’s growing increasingly impatient, firm hands guiding your movements as his eyebrows draw together. “Fuck— enough of this,” he growls, having you stop your movements, kneading the flesh of your hips. “Let me feel you properly.”

“Still so demanding when it clearly isn’t in your hand. Say the word.”

The word. Please. Tom Riddle doesn’t beg for anything, and you know it. But today — you would make him.

“You can’t be—“

Your hips grind on him as much as his grip allows you, and you moan, eyes falling shut. “I can get off like this. The question is, can you?”

“Merlin help you. Please— Please let me feel you,” he grunts, jaw clenching at his words.

A smirk creeps onto your lips, pure pleasure coursing through you at his plead. You know you’ve won. Lifting yourself onto your knees, you guide his tip between your folds before you let him split you apart slowly, sinking down on his cock inch by torturous inch. Your eyes flutter close at the sensation, mouth falling open at the blissful stretch on your walls. Tom groans as you take all of him, tip touching your sensitive cervix as you start rocking your hips up and down his length.

Beads of sweat form on your forehead as your thigh muscles begin to hurt, though numbed by the building ache in your lower stomach. “Fuck— just like that, squeezing me so tight.” Tom encourages, his hand kneading one of your breasts as they bounce with your every move.

A guttural groan falls over his lips as he watches his cock disappear into your slick cunt, chasing his own orgasm as he snaps his hips into yours from below, pulling your hips down onto his length.

“You want to come? Stay still, god— stay still and I might just— let you.” You gasp, mind growing hazy as your own climax builds rapidly. Your hands find support on his waist, pinning him down and allowing yourself to sink down on him from a different angle, inevitably having his tip massage that spongy spot inside of you that has you see stars. A loud moan echoes throughout the room as you tumble over the edge, walls greedily clenching around his cock as the shockwaves of your orgasm ripple through your body. The speed of your movements falters and he takes over, pounding into you from below, soon finding his own release deep inside of you with a low grunt.

Both of you still as you are catching your breath, staring at each other as you calm down from your highs. A satisfied smile curls on your lips as you take in his flushed face.

You wipe your forehead with the back of your hand, hissing in discomfort as you attempt to get up, your burning thigh muscles protesting against the movement.

“That’s where that smart mouth of yours gets you. Guess you are stuck.” Tom taunts you, hands wandering from your waist to tend to your aching muscles, pressing his fingertips into your skin soothingly.

“Help me, please?” You ask, but he shakes his head.

With one swift movement he flips you over so he is on top of you, teeth sinking into the tender skin of your neck. “We aren’t done here, and you know it.”

i love getting free meals 🙂‍↕️

⊹ ࣪ ˖ introducing ballerina!reader… ⊹ ࣪ ˖

ballerina!reader… is dedicated and disciplined. she’ll do whatever it takes to claim the role she desires, staying up late to practice. as a perfectionist, she pushes herself past exhaustion—again and again—until her aching feet are raw and bleeding. because to her, anything less than flawless is failure.

“it has to be perfect. it has to be perfect. it has to be perfect.”

ballerina!reader… appears to be a fragile, innocent and soft-spoken girl. but don’t be fooled; it’s merely a facade. beneath the surface, she is fierce, powerful and unafraid to put someone in their place when necessary. with envious, bitter girls watching her every move, she knows exactly how to bite back.

“for so long, i danced for them. now, i dance for me.”

ballerina!reader… has a desire deep down to break free from the control, pressure and expectations she puts on herself. she craves something more— something deeper, wilder and darker. this yearning brings out her seductive, bold and intoxicating side.

“i was never fragile. i was only waiting to break free.”

ballerina!reader… doesn’t let people close easily— her walls are high, and trust is something she gives hesitantly. when she finally allows herself to love someone, it’s with an unforgettable intensity. her love is possessive, consuming, and fierce, yet also protective, constantly fearing rejection or abandonment.

“if you hold me without hurting me, you’ll be the first who ever did.” — cinnamon girl by lana del rey

i have placed something on you, just beneath your skin, just deep enough that they feel it when they come too close. a whisper of warning, a quiet hum of possession.

i’m actually unwell… this is so beautiful

letter 3 — i cursed the ones who touched you

── . ❥ letters m.list

this letter appeared in your coat pocket. it was not there this morning. you do not remember putting it there.

—

sweetheart,

tell me, have you noticed?

how they forget you so quickly? how their interest in you fades before it can truly begin? have you ever wondered why their affections wilt, why they hesitate when they reach for you, why their eyes never seem to linger long enough?

you thought it was something you did. something wrong with you.

it was never you.

it was me.

i have placed something on you, just beneath your skin, just deep enough that they feel it when they come too close. a whisper of warning, a quiet hum of possession.

they will never love you, because i have decided they will not.

and i do not regret it.

yours, the only one who ever will. t.m.r.

—

💌 this is letter 3 of 6. new letters will appear every few nights. you shouldn’t read them. you will anyway.

✒️ taglist? reblog & whisper his name in the tags to be notified. he will hear you.

TWENTY-TWO. voyeurism — new girl au (in which you live with theo, mattheo, enzo)

warnings — smut 18+. voyeurism (spying on reader). male and female masturbation. thank you so much my girl @rafescvntyclubgf for helping me with this idea ily!!!

kinkmas mlist. moodboard. more.

finally… back home. you plop down onto the shared couch in the common living room, your tense body immediately relaxing after a long, difficult day. you momentarily close your eyes, taking a few big breaths as you try to unwind— but you instantly crave more to fully relax.

thankfully, your annoying roommates are out today, giving you the privacy you need. slowly, you slip your hand into your pants, fingers dipping into your panties. a relieved breath escapes you as you gently rub your aching clit, your whole body instantly melting into the comfort of the couch.

“hmmm, just what i needed.” you gasp softly, biting your lip as your back instinctively arches, hips bucking slightly in desperation. you’re so lost in sheer pleasure, your lips parting in ecstasy and your wetness soaking through your panties— until you’re suddenly snapped back to reality when you hear low groans and feel multiple eyes burning into you.

these fucking idiots. you instantly realise that your roommates aren’t out today, noticing their presence when you see all of their previously closed doors slightly ajar. what you don’t see, though, is that each boy has their hand wrapped around their throbbing cock, slowly pumping it while intensely watching you— but you’re not stupid. you know exactly what’s going on.

your first instinct is to tell them off, but instead, you decide to have a little fun before you do. you spread your legs a little wider and increase your sensual moans, giving them a show. from all their bedrooms, you can hear the rhythmic, slick sounds of them stroking themselves and low moans growing louder, causing a sly smirk to appear on your flushed face as you continue to eagerly finger yourself.

right when you sense they’re close to their release, you quickly pull your hand out of your panties and grab your phone from beside you, opening the group chat with the four of you. from their bedrooms, you hear surprised gasps and ‘oh fuck’s, realising that they’ve been caught.

you: stop spying on me you creeps.

enzo: it wasn’t me.

you: you bring a different girl over every night, you whore. i think i know what your moans sound like.

mattheo: 👨🏻‍🦯‍➡️👨🏻‍🦯‍➡️👨🏻‍🦯‍➡️

you: i’ll kill you as well matt.

theo: sorry amore. i’ll make you some pasta to make it up to you.

you: thank you theo 😇

mattheo: this is unfair. im moving out.

enzo: i’ll snap the spaghetti right in front of your eyes, nott.

theo: with those skinny ass arms? shiver me timbers.

enzo left the group chat.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

reminder: reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated and keep me motivated. ty! ♡

inactive bc wtf is happening w my life

𐙚 ˙ ⋆.˚ MATTHEO MASTERLIST

➳ nav post. main masterlist.

➳ ONE SHOTS

— ustulation; in wich mattheo knew that the best way to piss off his quidditch rival was to fuck his girlfriend. *

— fescennine; in which you and mattheo were constantly at each other's throats, and this time was no different. *

— frisson; in which mattheo seeks power and needs your help to perform a blood ritual. *

[…]

➳ AU’S

— underground fighter mattheo;

— serial killer mattheo x cannibal reader;

[…]

➳ HEADCANONS

— blood kink;

[…]

➳ DRABBLES

[…]

➳ BLURBS

[…]

© mattnott 𝚍𝚘 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝, 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚐𝚒𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚣𝚎, 𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚕, 𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚖𝚢 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔.

I WANT TO DELETE THAT SHIT OMFG

imagine mentor mattheo teaching reader auto control, fucking her and telling her she can’t cum until he says so

⊹ ࣪ ˖ mentor!mattheo teaching you self-control

warnings ; 18+ mdni, fem!reader, unprotected p in v, fingering, choking, spanking, biting, praise, slight degradation, power imbalance (?)

₊⊹ navigation ; mentor!mattheo ; au’s ; m.list

“you’ll never survive if you can’t control yourself.”  

his voice is low, dangerous, cutting through the silence of the empty training room. your chest heaves as you stand across from him, sweat slicking your skin, your muscles burning from hours of drills, the scent of sawdust and steel lingering in the air.

“again,” he says, but there’s something else behind it this time. something sharp.  

“that last drill was good enough,” you snap, wiping your face with the back of your hand, your heart still racing—not from exhaustion, but from the way his eyes have been burning into you all day. dark, unrelenting.  

he pushes off the wall, moving closer, his boots soundless against the floor. “no. you’re impatient,” he murmurs, circling you slowly, his breath warm against your neck as he brushes past. “reckless. always wanting to skip to the end. to take what you want without waiting for it.”  

you swallow hard, your pulse thrumming in your throat. “maybe i just don’t see the point in waiting.”  

his fingers ghost over your wrist, tugging you toward the door without another word.  

your room is dark, the digital windows set to an image of the city streets. mattheo’s hand grips your jaw the second the door shuts, his thumb pressing just hard enough to make your breath hitch. his eyes—dark, predatory—roam down your body, lingering on the flush creeping up your chest.

“strip,” he orders, voice a low, dangerous drawl.  

you hesitate, stubborn as ever, and his brow arches.  

“don’t make me ask twice.” his tone is calm, almost amused, which somehow makes it worse. “you’re not in charge here. i am.”  

your fingers tremble as you pull your shirt over your head, stripping down until you’re bare under his gaze. mattheo steps closer, his fingers hooking under your chin, tilting your head up to meet his eyes.  

“that’s better,” he murmurs, brushing a thumb over your bottom lip. “always so fucking defiant… but look at you now. doing exactly what i say.”  

he backs you onto the bed with slow, deliberate steps, his grip never loosening. you expect him to kiss you, but instead, he leans in close, his breath hot against your ear.  

“you’ve got no patience,” he says softly, fingers trailing down your thigh. “no self-control. lucky for you, i’ve got plenty for both of us.”  

his hand snaps between your legs, slapping your inner thigh, and you gasp, your body jerking.  

“hold still,” mattheo growls, his hand coming down again, harder this time, leaving a sting that makes heat bloom low in your belly. “you don’t move until i say.”  

his fingers slide between your folds, gathering your wetness before pressing two fingers inside you. his thumb circles your clit in slow, lazy motions, deliberately not enough, building a tension that has you squirming beneath him.  

“already so fucking desperate,” he taunts, curling his fingers in a way that makes your back arch. “look at you. soaking my hand like a good little tribute.”  

your cheeks burn at his words, but the embarrassment only makes you wetter.  

“please,” you gasp, your hips rocking against his hand.  

“please, what?” he pulls his fingers out, holding them up to your lips. “taste yourself. then maybe i’ll give you what you’re begging for.”  

your tongue flicks out hesitantly, and he groans, his thumb pressing against your chin as he watches you.  

“fuck, you’re filthy,” he mutters, slipping his fingers back into your mouth. “and you’ll do anything i tell you, won’t you?”  

you nod, too far gone to argue, your tongue swirling around his fingers as he presses his knee between your thighs, keeping you spread for him.  

“such a quick learner,” mattheo praises, withdrawing his hand to grip your waist, flipping you onto your stomach in one swift motion. “hands on the headboard.”  

you obey, your breath catching as he presses his cock against you, the blunt head dragging through your wetness. fuck, when did he even take his pants off?

“you want it?” he asks, voice thick with condescension, teasing you with shallow thrusts. “say it. tell me who you belong to.”  

“you,” you gasp, your fingers curling around the headboard as you push back against him. “i belong to you.”  

“damn right you do,” he growls, slamming into you with one brutal thrust that knocks the air from your lungs.  

his hand snakes around to wrap lightly around your throat, not squeezing—just enough to remind you who’s in control. his other hand cracks down on your ass, hard enough to make you yelp.  

“quiet,” mattheo snarls. “you don’t want the boy tribute hearing you from his room, do you? or should i let him see how fucking pretty you look when you’re being ruined?”  

your walls clench around him at his words, and he laughs, dark and breathless.  

“oh, you like that,” he says, his grip tightening around your throat, his hips snapping harder, faster. “filthy little thing. so eager to be fucked by your mentor.”  

the tension coils tight in your core, your body trembling as you teeter on the edge.  

“don’t you dare cum yet,” mattheo warns, his voice a low snarl. “not until i say.”  

“i can’t,” you sob, your head dropping back onto his shoulder. “please, i can’t—”  

“yes, you can.” his teeth sink into your neck, biting down just hard enough to leave a mark. “you’ll wait. and if you don’t, i’ll pull out and make you finish yourself while i watch.”  

the threat makes your thighs shake, your breath hitching as you claw at the headboard, holding on for dear life. mattheo’s hand slips between your legs, his fingers rubbing your clit in quick, rough circles.  

“cum for me,” he finally growls, his voice thick with need. “now.”  

your orgasm rips through you, white-hot and all-consuming, your body clenching around him as you scream his name. mattheo’s thrusts grow erratic, his breath ragged as he follows, spilling inside you with a low, guttural curse.  

he stays buried inside you, his forehead pressed to your shoulder, his breath hot against your skin. for a moment, there’s only the sound of your ragged breathing, the weight of him holding you down.  

“good girl,” he whispers, his lips brushing against your ear. “took it so well. didn’t even break.”  

© leona-hawthorne 2025. please do not copy, translate or repost any of my writing.

this warmed my heart so much, omfg. it was so cutesy, and the way you could put all his character traits into a fluffy story was just chef’s kiss. i’m going to kiss you jsjsjsjsjsjsj

Smutmas 2024 | ᴛᴏᴍ ʀɪᴅᴅʟᴇ x ʀᴏꜱɪᴇʀ ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

I Appreciate You.

Short summary: After some persuasion, Tom joins you for Christmas dinner. Only then he finds out your parents haven’t exactly treated you well and seizes the opportunity to show you what it means to be truly appreciated.

Warnings: nothing, just fluff (for now…)

A/N: I have entered a bad case of writing block halfway through this, so I cut it short. I AM SORRY. I’ll take a day or two off and write a pt 2☹️

wordcount: 1,6k

Tom and you have been friends for a while – or rather study accomplices, as he would call it. Though lately, you have grown closer. Oddly close, at least if you knew Riddle, who wasn’t one to interact with others unless it served a purpose. You have known that from the beginning, so it never really appeared to you why he would be different towards you exactly – but you weren’t going to complain about someone tutoring you after all – someone who was equally as smart as pretty.

“You forgot pearl dust.” he sighs in disappointment, not looking up as he fidgets with his quill. “Tom it’s been two hours, my head is a mess. Let’s take a break?”

His gaze flicks from his quill to your eyes and stares at you briefly before speaking up. “I don’t take breaks. If you want me to keep being generous enough to help you, you do it my way.”

That’s how it goes every single time. You don’t argue against it – you just do what he says. The desperation to become better at Potions is greater than your ego after all and you have also come to notice it is better not to talk back to him. The last time you did, he wouldn’t even speak to you for two weeks after.

Tom clears his throat and you return your focus to the present. “It’s been an unnecessarily long time since you have started staring at me. Focus on your textbook.”

“Right, right! Sorry.” Your cheeks heat up and you repeat the brewing process from the beginning.

After what feels like an eternity, he is satisfied – as much as he could be. Tom obviously is never fully satisfied, always has something to criticize that you didn’t do right, something he says you would need to work on the next time you two meet to study.

There was always going to be a next time.

As you two pack up, you see house elves working on the Christmas decorations just outside the library, putting up a pine tree and some red and golden ornaments. It’s the Thursday before winter break, and you would soon go home to spend the time with your family. They have told you to bring a friend, though all of them have declined so far. You would just go alone. Until – well, you think about Tom.

“Uh, I actually have one more question.” You start, turning to face him. He raises his eyebrows expectantly signalling you to continue. “Soooo, I have been wanting to ask you whether you wanted to join me for Christmas dinner at home. My parents have asked me to bring someone along.”

“We aren’t friends. Besides that, I don’t celebrate Christmas.”

That’s exactly the answer you assumed he’d give, but you weren’t going to give up that easily. Your family has been talking about him often lately, about the Gaunt family, purebloods just like you. All the things they say you don’t understand anyway. It’s been like that since you were born, they always favoured your older brother over you. You have stopped arguing against it.

“Come on, Tom! It’s just a dinner, one evening. I know you don’t usually leave Hogwarts for Christmas break, I just wanted to give you the opportunity to meet my parents. They have been talking about you.”

He contemplates for a moment then. He is aware that his family, at least his mother’s side, has caught people’s attention. Apparently also the Rosiers’. Rosier family, part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. It would only be to his benefit to get to know them personally. And he hated admitting it, but lately - he has found himself strangely intrigued by you. A smart girl, who wouldn’t normally need his tutoring, not if he didn’t tell you to come back every week for another lesson.

“I suppose I will think about it. If I decide for it, I will join you at the train station.”

Your lips curl into a bright smile. “Thank you, Tommy! You are the best.”

He sighs. “How often have I told you to stop calling me that?”

“Sorry, sorry! I am just super excited to introduce you. They have been pestering me with questions about your mother’s family.”

You swear you see a slight spark in his eyes at the mention of his mother, though his usual stern expression returns just a second later. “Have a good evening.” he replies and leaves you behind at the library without saying another word.

-

There has not been a single sign of Tom when you board the train. Secretly you have hoped he would come and join you, though as soon as you leave the station you find yourself at peace with the fact you’d be going home alone for the break. The scenery shifts as you look out of the window, a thick layer of snow covering the otherwise green Scottish Highlands. You see deer scavenging for any grass they can find, scraping at the frozen ground with their hooves, the nearby hares’ white winter fur blending in perfectly with the scenery.

There aren’t too many students in your wagon, meaning you get to have a compartment all for yourself. Just like normally, your eyes grow tired, voices around you turning into a blur, and you fall asleep.

It wasn’t long until someone clearing their throat, taking a seat next to you woke you again. “So, what’s for dinner?” he asks, and you turn to face him.

Your face lights up at the sight of the person in front of you. “Tom! I am so happy you decided to come along!”

“I suppose it’s a welcome opportunity to connect with another renowned family.” he replies, and you nod, though slightly disappointed. “Of course.”

The rest of the journey, both of you don’t speak much. It’s a weird energy between you, something you don’t quite recognize. You are glad – as glad as you could be, knowing your family awaits you just outside – when the train arrives at your station. Both of you get off, and your mother’s and father’s faces light up at the sight of, not you, but Tom. They greet him first, ask him how the journey has been.

It’s only when you arrive at home that they ask you to help prepare dinner while Tom’s being shown around the manor. Even at dinner they won’t let him be and you wonder whether it was a good decision to bring him home with you.

In a moment of silence, your mother first looks at you, then at him. A smile forms on her face, something you only rarely get to see and you wonder what may be behind it.

“We are so glad you have decided to join us. Our daughter really couldn’t have chosen a better boyfriend.”

Oh.

You feel your heart drop in your chest at her words. They must have misunderstood the situation. Your cheeks heat up and you see Tom’s face changing into one of confusion.

Trying to save the evening, you quickly try to explain. “No it’s- we are not-“

“I am pleased to hear I am meeting your expectations.”

Tom’s words cut you off, and for a moment you aren’t sure whether you have heard him correctly. You blink a few times and shoot him a confused look, and he smiles at you.

Smiles.

You nod quickly, lowering your gaze onto the plate in front of you as you feel your cheeks heat up. For the rest of the evening, you don’t say much, even when you all gather around the Christmas tree. They ask questions about your relationship, which only Tom answers. He sits next to you and as the night progresses, his hand wanders up your lower back, snaking around your waist. You visibly shiver at his touch but decide to play along.

As soon as everyone has excused themselves to bed, you move away a little, escaping his grip. “Tom, I am sorry, they must have completely misunderstood.”

He shakes his head. “Don’t apologize.”

“No really I-“

“Sshhh.” he whispers, his face inching closer to yours then, capturing you in a tender kiss. His hand rests on the back of your head, softly pressing you against him. You inhale deeply as you break apart, your eyes trailing up from his lips to his eyes. It’s only the candles on the Christmas tree that shine a dim light on both of your forms, yet you are able to make out the changed look on his face.

“We shouldn’t.” you murmur, shaking your head.

“I see the way you look at me in the library. And you perfectly know why I want to keep meeting you. Yet both of us are too stubborn to admit it.”

Though you hate to admit it, he’s right.

“I just didn’t think you would like someone like me.”

Tom huffs. “You never acknowledge your worth, and I suspect that is what your parents have taught you. They don’t see your potential. They diminish your achievements. Why do you let them?” he asks, and you rest your head on his shoulder.

“I have stopped caring a long while ago. You know how it is.”

Tom doesn’t reply after that, though his hand continues running up and down your back soothingly. You stay like this for a while, until he slowly turns his head, facing you.

“I will show them what it means to appreciate you.”

His voice is low and controlled as his face is a mere inch away from yours, his breath warm on your skin.

“I will show you what it means to be appreciated.”