Both obsessed/Tom Riddle (completed)

043. Breakfast.

The Chamber of Secrets was eerily still, the faint hum of ancient magic vibrating through the walls. Ernesh sat obediently at the small table in the kitchen, his dark green eyes fixed unwaveringly on Tom. His pupils were blown wide, the deep green of his irises practically devoured by the black. He didn't blink, didn't move, his entire being consumed with watching every step Tom took.

Tom stood by the counter, the soft clink of silverware and plates echoing in the otherwise silent room. He didn't need to look over to know Ernesh's eyes were following him; he could feel the weight of the boy's gaze. It was suffocating, intoxicating.

Tom set down a cup and glanced over. Ernesh's hands were gripping the edge of the table so tightly that his knuckles had gone white, his lips parted as though he were about to speak but couldn't find the words. His venomous tongue flicked out, tasting the air, and his fangs glinted faintly in the dim torchlight.

"It's feeding time," Tom said casually, his voice calm, almost indifferent. He pulled out a chair next to Ernesh and sat down, motioning to his lap. "Come here."

Ernesh didn't hesitate. He was out of his chair and on top of Tom in an instant, straddling his lap with a desperate fervor. His arms wrapped around Tom's shoulders, and before Tom could say another word, Ernesh's fangs sank into his neck.

The sharp pain was fleeting, replaced by the warm, pulling sensation of Ernesh feeding. Tom exhaled slowly, his hand coming up to cradle the back of Ernesh's head. He ran his fingers through the boy's soft, dark hair, and the reaction was immediate.

Ernesh let out a low, guttural moan against Tom's neck, his entire body trembling. His hips shifted involuntarily, grinding down against Tom's lap, and his hands clung desperately to Tom's shoulders.

More, Ernesh thought frantically, his mind a chaotic swirl of hunger and obsession. More. I need more. I need all of him.

The taste of Tom's blood was intoxicating, each drop sending shivers of pleasure coursing through Ernesh's body. But it wasn't just the blood—it was Tom himself, his presence, his scent, his touch. Everything about him was overwhelming, consuming, and Ernesh couldn't get enough.

Tom's hand tightened in Ernesh's hair, pulling his head back slightly. Ernesh whimpered, his lips stained red, his dark green eyes glassy and wild.

"Enough," Tom said softly, though his tone was laced with amusement.

Ernesh hesitated, his tongue flicking out to taste the remnants of blood on his lips. He wanted to protest, to beg for more, but the look in Tom's eyes silenced him. Reluctantly, he pulled away, his body still trembling as he clung to Tom.

Tom smirked, wiping a faint smear of blood from his neck. "You're insatiable," he murmured, his fingers once again threading through Ernesh's hair.

Ernesh let out a shuddering breath, his eyes fluttering closed as he leaned into the touch. The sensation of Tom's fingers in his hair sent a jolt of pleasure through him, and he let out a low, desperate sound.

"Tom," he whispered, his voice trembling. His hands slid down to grip Tom's waist, his fingers digging into the fabric of his robes. "I can't... I can't stop. I need more. Please..."

Tom chuckled, the sound low and dangerous. "You're obsessed," he said, though there was no judgment in his tone. If anything, he sounded pleased.

Ernesh's eyes opened, wide and desperate. "I am obsessed," he admitted, his voice raw. "With you. Only you. I want... I want to—" He cut himself off, his tongue flicking out as his thoughts spiraled.

I want to wear his skin. I want to be inside him, around him, consume him entirely. I want to drown in him.

Tom's smirk widened, as if he could read Ernesh's unspoken thoughts. He shifted slightly, moving so that Ernesh was kneeling between his legs on the kitchen floor. His hand rested on Ernesh's head, his fingers once again tangling in the boy's hair.

Ernesh shivered violently at the touch, his hands gripping Tom's thighs for support. He let out a soft whimper, his tongue flicking out to taste the air again.

"You'd do anything for me, wouldn't you?" Tom asked, his voice soft but commanding.

"Yes," Ernesh whispered without hesitation. His eyes were wide, glassy, and utterly devoted. "Anything. Everything. Just say the word, and it's yours."

Tom tilted his head slightly, his smirk fading into something darker, more contemplative. "Good," he said after a moment. "Because I have plans for you, my little snake. Big plans."

Ernesh's breath hitched, his heart pounding in his chest. The idea of being part of Tom's plans, of being useful to him, filled him with a dizzying sense of purpose.

"Anything," he whispered again, his voice trembling. "I'll do anything for you, Tom."

Tom's hand moved to cup Ernesh's chin, tilting his head up so their eyes met. "I know," he said simply, his tone laced with quiet confidence. "That's why you're mine."

Ernesh shivered at the words, his entire body trembling with a mix of devotion and desire. He pressed his forehead against Tom's thigh, his lips brushing against the fabric of his robes.

"Yours," he murmured, his voice barely audible. "Always yours."

Tom smirked, his fingers brushing through Ernesh's hair one final time. The boy shuddered at the touch, his breathing uneven as he clung to Tom like a lifeline.

The air in the Chamber felt heavier than ever, the weight of their obsession hanging thick between them. And as Tom looked down at Ernesh, trembling and utterly devoted at his feet, he couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction.

This was exactly where Ernesh belonged. And Tom would make sure he stayed there. Always.

...