Tom Riddle

Before The Yule Ball ('soft' Tom)

I'm sitting in front of the vanity mirror in my room in the manor, getting ready for the ball. I just finished putting on my dress, but it's not fully fastened yet. I stand up and move to the full length mirror to look at myself. I smile lightly as I see the way I look.

I begin to fasten the back of the dress, before realizing it's going to be too difficult to do it on my own. I wave my hand to summon my wand but it doesn't come to me, and I look where I left it and find it gone, then I turn towards the door and see Tom Riddle leaning on one shoulder against it. He chuckles lightly at me, twirling my wand. I roll my eyes slightly and raise my eyebrow at him.

"Too good to knock?" I ask, cocking my head.

"I figured we're past politeness." He jokes, looking down at my wand.

"Can I have my wand?" I ask, holding out my hand. He shakes his head and puts my wand away, stalking towards me.

"Turn around." He says as he approaches me. I turn away from him and he steps behind me.

He places his hands on my hips and turns me so I'm facing the mirror with him behind me. He brushes my hair away from my back where the fastening is. He brings his hands from the front of my waist running them up and down slowly, keeping eye-contact with me in the mirror. I look away and bring my hands down to watch his move slowly on my torso.

He smirks lightly and brings his hands to the back, running his fingers along the seams before he begins to fasten it. His eyes leave mine and he looks down as he works, watching his fingers move. I look back up into his face through the mirror.

I gasp slightly as he aggressively pulls the strings on the back, tightening it painfully.

"Fucks sake." I say, and he chuckles deeply, pulling more. I reach back and try to pry his hands off. "Tom!" I scold, and he lets go. I try to turn around to face him but he holds me still, keeping his hands on my waist.

"Shh shh. Stay still." He says softly.

I roll my eyes, but meet his dark gaze in the mirror and sigh, moving my arms out of his way so he can continue. He smirks, chuckling lightly, and looks down at his hands as he continues to fasten the dress. He loosens the part he just pulled and starts from the bottom, tightening it perfectly.

He takes his time, occasionally looking up at me in the mirror. He finishes. Fuck he's perfect at everything. It fits perfectly, but the way he did it makes it feel even better. I feel like right now, with him standing behind me, this is right, this is perfect. He sees it too.

He moves his hand up my back slowly until one of them is on my exposed back above where the dress covers, tracing shapes lightly. The other moves to my waist and he spends several moments taking in my appearance, avoiding my eyes as he examines me.

He finally meets my eyes and my breath hitches as the way he's looking at me. His gaze is intense, intimidating, magical, powerful, but so goddamn beautiful and intoxicating I'd never have it be anyone else looking at me.

"There." He says, cocking his head at me. "You're welcome." He finishes, and removes his hands from me, stepping back slightly. I feel a slight blush creeping onto my cheeks and meet his eyes in the mirror.

"Thank you." I respond, he nods slightly, fixing his hair in the mirror before he huffs quietly and steps closer to me again.

He holds my gaze commandingly, and slowly moves his hand down my back and around my waist to the front. One hand traveling up my arm, his fingers grazing my skin gracefully. He pauses once he reaches my shoulder and drags his fingers across my chest to my collarbone, then slowly up and he lightly wraps his hand around my throat.