Dreams of Dark Obsession - Tom Riddle

part eight

Y/N stood frozen, Tom's breath ghosting over her ear, the weight of his presence pressing down on her like a suffocating blanket. Her mind screamed at her to move, to push him away, to run—but her body refused to obey, paralyzed by the pull he had over her. She could feel the magnetic force between them, stronger than ever, tugging her closer to him with every passing second. It was as if some invisible thread had bound them together, and no matter how much she fought, the connection only grew tighter.

Tom's lips hovered just above her skin, his voice a low, seductive whisper. "You've been fighting this for too long, Y/N. The more you resist, the more it consumes you. Give in, and you'll find freedom. Give in, and you'll find power."

His words sent a shiver down her spine, and though she wanted to push him away, to break free from the intoxicating pull, she found herself hesitating. His presence, his voice, his very being—everything about him stirred something dark inside her, something she wasn't sure she could resist much longer.

"I—" Her voice faltered, and she cursed herself for the weakness she felt in her own words. She tried again, forcing the words out. "I don't want this."

But even as she said the words, they felt hollow, as though they held no real conviction. Because deep down, she wasn't sure if she was telling the truth. The memory of the dream haunted her, the way she had surrendered to him so easily, how she had let go of everything she had held on to. And the worst part? It hadn't felt like a mistake. It had felt like a release.

Tom seemed to sense her inner turmoil, his gaze softening slightly as his hand moved from her chin to cradle her face. "You're lying to yourself," he murmured, his thumb brushing lightly across her cheek. "You want this. You've always wanted this. And that's why you're here now, seeking me out."

Y/N's breath caught in her throat. She had sought him out. She had come to find him, hadn't she? No matter how much she told herself it was for answers, for clarity, there was another part of her that had been driven by something darker, something she wasn't ready to admit to herself.

But Tom knew. He always knew.

"I still don't understand, why me?" she whispered, her voice barely audible, but Tom heard her all the same. "Why are you so sure I'm the one you want?"

Tom's lips curved into a slow, dangerous smile, his eyes gleaming with something dark and possessive. "Because, Y/N," he said softly, "I've seen it from the beginning. You're not afraid of the darkness, not really. You're drawn to it. Just like me."

His words sent a shock of fear through her, but they also resonated with a truth she couldn't deny. She was drawn to the darkness. She always had been, even before Tom had come into her life. There had always been something lurking beneath the surface, something restless, something she had tried to bury beneath layers of morality and restraint. But Tom had stripped those layers away, exposing the raw truth she had tried so hard to ignore.

She felt his hand slide down to her neck, his fingers pressing lightly against her skin, and the touch sent a thrill through her that she couldn't ignore. Her breath quickened, and she could feel the tension building between them, thick and electric, pulling her deeper into the web of his influence.

"You don't have to be afraid of it anymore," Tom whispered, his voice a soothing murmur against her ear. "The darkness isn't something to fear. It's something to embrace. And with me, you won't have to face it alone."

Y/N's mind was spinning, torn between the desire to pull away and the overwhelming temptation to give in. He made it sound so easy, so simple—to let go, to stop fighting. And in that moment, standing there in the dim light of the Room of Requirement with Tom so close, his touch so persuasive, she almost believed him.

Almost.

"I need to know," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "If this is real—if what you're saying is real—then I need to know how. How are you in my head? How are you doing this to me?"

Tom's smile didn't falter, but there was a flicker of something deeper in his eyes—a satisfaction, perhaps, or something darker still. He stepped back slightly, his hand slipping from her neck as he regarded her with a knowing gaze.

"Magic is a powerful thing, Y/N," he said slowly, his voice as smooth as silk. "There are spells, enchantments, connections that go far beyond what most witches and wizards ever learn. I've spent years studying them, learning how to manipulate them, how to bend them to my will."

He paused, his gaze never leaving hers. "But what's between us... it's not just magic. It's something more. Something deeper. You feel it, don't you? The connection between us. It's not just in your mind—it's in your very soul."

Y/N shuddered at his words, a deep sense of unease settling in her stomach. The idea that Tom had forged some kind of connection between their souls was terrifying—and yet, she couldn't deny the truth in his words. She *did* feel it. The pull between them wasn't just something in her head. It was deeper, more powerful, something she couldn't simply walk away from.

"What do you want from me?" she asked, her voice trembling with both fear and something darker, something dangerously close to desire.

Tom's smile widened, and he stepped closer once more, his eyes gleaming with that familiar intensity. "I want you to stop fighting, Y/N. I want you to accept what we both know to be true—that you and I are bound together. That together, we can have power beyond anything you've ever imagined."

His hand slid back up to her cheek, his touch gentle yet possessive, and Y/N's breath hitched in her throat as she felt herself leaning into him, unable to stop the pull. "You don't have to be afraid," he whispered, his lips so close to hers that she could feel the warmth of his breath. "You just have to let go."

Y/N closed her eyes, her mind a whirlwind of fear, confusion, and desire. She could feel herself teetering on the edge, caught between the desire to run and the irresistible pull to give in, to let Tom take control. The darkness was so close, so tempting—and in that moment, she wasn't sure if she had the strength to fight it anymore.

Tom's voice was a soft whisper against her lips, the final thread that threatened to unravel her completely. "Let me in, Y/N. Let me show you what you're capable of."

And with that, the last of her resistance began to crumble, the line between light and dark blurring until she wasn't sure which side she stood on anymore.