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#tom riddle x reader smut
blue-sadie · 3 months
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Brother's Toy
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Imagine:
Being known as the riddle brothers plaything that everyone needs to leave you alone and not look at you for too long because one or both of the brothers were always with you but one of the griffendores was ballsy enough to smack your ass as you walked down the hall, not surprising at all mattheo beat him to a pulp as Tom brought you back to their dorm.
"Fuck we're gonna have to smack that ass baby intil our hand prints have covered that sick fucks one and we're gonna fuck you intill you forget about that whole thing because your ours and no one will ever touch you like that again we'll make sure of it"
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writingsbychlo · 6 months
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LAST TIME | tom riddle
summary; things just aren’t right between you and tom. when you suggest a break up, however, tom is ready do anything to make it work.
word count; 4153
notes; honestly pure smut. I say tom is willing to do anything but what tom does is just give some really good orgasms. and somehow, it’s still better than 90% of men out there, so.
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“You… want to break up?” The clock in the room seemed to tick louder than ever, the seconds dragging on longer and longer as Tom stared at you in disbelief. There was a bottle open between you, two glasses of whiskey poured but neither of them touched, as he stared in shock. “Why?”
“Because this isn’t working, Tom.”
He picked up his glass now, taking a heavy gulp from it, his brows furrowing as his throat bobbed, until only the empty Crystal was back on the table. He filled it up again. 
“Tom—”
“Just let me think for a second.” You sighed, his gaze flickering over to you, and he softened for just a moment. “I’m trying to work out what to say.”
“There is nothing to say—”
“There has to be!” He slammed an open palm down on the wood, the table rattling and your drink shaking in its glass, his mumbled apology belaying his regret as he glared. At you, at the wall, at the clock still loudly tickling the seconds by. “Why?”
“Because this isn’t—”
“Don’t say this isn’t working. It works perfectly for me, so if it’s not working for you, tell me why. Tell me what I did, what I can do.” You reached for your own glass now, sliding it across the table and taking down the contents in one. Pushing the empty glass toward him with one finger as your throat burned, he filled it up, cupping your hand and pressing the glass into the other. “We fight all the time, I get that. But you love the fight, I know you do. But you’ve never—you yell, I shout, we fuck it out and we’re fine. This isn’t right, you don’t sit here calmly and tell me you want to break up, so tell me what to do.”
“I can’t tell you, Tom. I don’t know. I just know I can’t do this anymore.”
“But why?”
Exasperation burned through your veins, the words ‘It’s not working’ sitting on the tip of your tongue, and you had to bite it to stop them from coming free. 
“I want to work through it. I want you to tell me every goddamn little thing that’s wrong. We’re not leaving this room until it’s right, do you understand me?” His fingers curled on the tabletop, a fist forming, nails no doubt digging into his palms, and you sighed. He may be making it sound like demands, but you both knew it was a question, a desperate plea not to give up on him. The kind of desperation you’d never heard from him before, and it was the only thing that made you stay. “Please.”
“I’ll stay, Tom. I’ll talk, but I make no promises, because I just don’t see this working out.”
“I’ll make it work.” There was so much conviction in his tone that you almost found yourself believing it. “First issue.”
“Tom—”
“First issue.” He insisted, and you ran a hand down your face. 
“Okay, fine.”
And just like that, the night melted away. Hours slipped by in a blur of petty arguments, Tom’s eyes boring into your own as he fought and conceded, edging closer and closer to you throughout the night. 
You resisted for only so long, the first drink gave you the confidence to tell him that you needed more. His cold attention wasn’t enough, you needed love and passion, you needed his vulnerability and his emotions, you needed his trust and his confidence to take down those walls. 
The second drink gave you to confidence to yell, shouting about the kisses he denied you in public, the affections you dreamed of that he never delivered, the activities he got up to that he’d never tell you about. The friends he kept a secret. The times he’d disappear from you for days only to reappear with no word, yet demand to be a part of every single aspect of your life. 
The third brought you closer, barely resisting his advances as you fought tears, fought anger, fought every overwhelming emotion that was almost spilling out. 
The fourth brought peace. The fourth brought silence, whispered promises you were inclined to believe, as he all but crawled and knelt. He begged for forgiveness, a sight never before seen for Tom Riddle, when your stubbornness reared a new, alcohol-filled strength, urging you towards the door to leave him behind. 
The fifth brought solace and warmth. The fifth brought the end of the argument. 
The firewhiskey was almost gone, a comfort flooding through both of your bodies enough to loosen your lips beyond the hesitation you both held, and you knew if you drank anymore, all progress would be lost. Swiping up the bottle from the table and putting the stopper back in, you took it towards the shelf, feeling Tom’s eyes track your every movement through his dorm. 
You placed it back within the cabinet, its rightful place between the other vintage bottles, displayed proudly like it wasn’t contraband to be hidden, his arrogance never more prominent. For some reason, you loved that. It had always been one of the things that had attracted you to him, his intelligence, his confidence, his sexy self-assuredness, but it just wasn’t enough anymore. 
As you slowly walked back toward your seat, Tom’s calloused hand wrapped around your wrist, bringing you to a halt by his chair. Another soft tug, and he was bringing you down across his lap, arm snaking around your waist to hold you close to his chest. 
“Tom…”
“Babydoll…” His whisper was lost to the air between you, a space that was closing as he leaned in. Slowly, slowly, giving you time to pull away, but you couldn't. Everything about him was your weakness, you’d never been able to leave him, not since the day you met him all those years ago, and you’d never be able to leave him now. “Let me back in. Love me again.”
“I do still love you, Tommy.”
“Then let it be enough. Trust that I’ll do whatever it takes.” His lips met your cheek, suddenly, firmly, over far too quickly as he rested his head on your own. “I know I’m hard to love, but if you do love me too, then please trust me.” 
Another kiss, your hand cupping his jaw, a whimper slipping free as he pulled back again. 
“Have some faith in me.” 
Another kiss.
“Don’t leave me.”
“Kiss me, Tommy.” You sighed, tugging him forward and crashing your lips against his. He didn’t hold back, mouth slanting with your own as he sat up in the chair, holding you tighter to his body. His mouth was insistent, forceful and commanding just like every other part of him, lips coaxing your own apart until you were panting softly into his mouth, his tongue slipping through to tease your own. 
He tasted of whiskey, faint traces of coffee and sugar, a heady mix that you were drowning in. His hands traced slowly across your body, dragging and gripping, tracing like he was trying to memorise you, in case it was the last time he ever got the chance. 
You wanted more, you needed more, hands in his hair, messing up all those pretty curls and tugging him closer as you tried to twist in his lap. Unsuccessful, your legs still dangling over one of his as you sat sideways, a whine slipping free. To get more you’d have to stand, your hand raking seductively down his chest, nails scratching through the fabric of his shirt. You stood, or tried to, barely making it onto shaking feet before he was nipping at your lip with a cut-off grunt and tugging you right back into his body. 
In one swift moment he was standing, cradling you sideways in his arms and carrying you across the room. A second later, you were lay on the bed, head pillowed by the quilts as he finally pulled back. 
Those hands kept exploring, knees bracketing your body as he pushed your shirt up, up, up. He kissed at every newly exposed patch of skin, all across your stomach and over your breasts, reverent and tender, tongue swiping across your skin until you shivered, lips promising his love into your flesh. Until, you were sat up, slipping the top over your arms and letting him cast it away to the floor, his mouth working across your jaw, head tipped back to let him. 
Your own hands went to his back, scratching down until you caught the hem, far less care and far more desperation as you yanked and tugged, pulling at the shirt until he was reaching behind his head to help you strip him of it, your fingertips falling back to the bare skin of his chest. Firm, warm muscles twitched under your touch, your back hitting the bed again as his mouth collided with your own, backed into the sheets and surrounded by every inch of him, his presence filling the room, filling the air you breathed. 
“Tom…”
His grip shifted, one hand leaving the bedding to skim across your hip, under your body to the flat of your back, and lower. Cupping your arse he lifted your hips, just enough to slot himself between, and oh, delicious pleasure as his hips rocked into your own. Straining through the thick denim of his jeans, Tom pressed his hard cock into you, dragging every torturously clothed inch over your damp centre, ruined panties catching on the material and twisting, making it all the more thrilling. 
He did it again, and again, your bodies rolling together, clothes the only barrier keeping you apart as his mouth claimed your own. Moans and whimpers bounced off of every wall, each deep, grunted sound he let out was like a high, ricocheting along your body and making your head spin. 
“Fucking hell, babydoll,” His words were choked out, foreheads slick where they pressed together, panting breaths washing over your cheeks as he kept you moving against him, even as you became weak, even as the pleasure made you tremble, nearing that precipice already. “You’d walk away from this? Don’t you feel the way I do? You’re in my blood like a goddamn drug.”
Then, it was all ripped away, a pathetic wail falling from you as hot pleasure became cold disappointment, your hips dropped back to the bed. One of your shaking hands was cupped in his own as he pulled away, enough to sit up, kneeling between your spread thighs and dragging your hand to his chest. 
Under solid muscle, his heart pounded, fast and irregular, beating like a drum. “For you, alright? This beats for you, and you alone.”
Like a knife through the tension, the haze was severed, a refreshing touch of cold on your sex-addled mind. Climbing up, into his lap as his hands gripped your hips, your own reached for his face, tugging him into the most tender and loving kiss you could muster in the heat of the moment. 
His tongue slides over your own, your nails rake down his chest as you settle into his lap where he kneels, both of his hands kneading your ass. He shudders, your fingers grazing along the defined lines of his abs, and his breathing starts to shallow as your fingers press along the bulge in his jeans. 
Bucking up, his lips stop working your own, letting you take control of the kiss as his strength starts to wane, your teasing touches along his cock making him squirm underneath you. Squeezing him through the denim, he moans into your mouth, loud and unashamed, and your smirk makes him bite at your lower lip until you gasp. 
“I’m— fuck, I’m really trying to be romantic here, to make love to you, take it slow. You’re making that real fuckin’ hard for me.”
“I can feel how hard I’m making it for you, Tommy.”
It was unfair, perhaps, to taunt him so much when he was only doing what you’d asked, to show his affection rather than just assume you knew, to love you properly, but that's not what you wanted right now. Right now, as you’d stared him in the eye and faced the possibility of losing him, you just wanted him, in his rawest form. 
“Tom, baby—”
“Stop teasing me.” He all but growled the words, hips rolling into your palm now as you squeezed with rhythm, one of his hands slipping beneath the layers of your clothes, sliding over your ass from behind until one fingertip circled your dripping entrance. “Stop teasing me, or you won’t come for hours, do you hear me? I’ll make you cry and beg and scream, I’ll drive you to the edge of your goddamn sanity the way you make me, and maybe I won’t even let you come then.”
With those final words, he plunged a single digit inside of you, your back arching against his chest as he hummed, lips tearing apart as your body bowed to his. Pumping slowly, he left peppered kisses along your exposed collarbones, his other hand trailing teasingly up your spine, undoing the clasp of your bra with a flick of his fingers. 
Jerking it free from your body shakily, he let out a primal noise as you threw it away, lips wrapping around one nipple, teeth tugging the taut bud. 
“Oh, fuck, Tommy…”
“That’s right, doll. Moan my fucking name.” He did it again, a second finger slipping inside of you, chasing out every sentient thought you had. 
Your fingers were shaking as you reached for his jeans, tugging at the button and zipper until you could get them down. Finally, you pulled him free from the confines, and relished in the sound he made against your skin as you swept your thumb over the dripping head of his cock. 
Sitting there, half in his lap as he finally brought you closer and closer to your ruined orgasm, you pumped his cock slowly, nuzzling your nose against his own, feeling the beat of his heart against your hand on his neck. Steady, thumping, a beat just for you as he promised. 
His skin was wet under your touch, hot and soft and slick, your fist sliding over him, twisting just how you knew he liked. He may know your body like the back of his own hand, but you knew him too. You knew every trick that made him weak, every touch and spot that you could exploit to bring him to his knees before you, if you so wished. Tom Riddle may scare everyone away, may put on his façade to the world, but he was your lover, your heart and soul, and he bared himself to you alone in this vulnerability. 
Tracing your thumb over the head, you squeezed his cock, another bead of precum, dribbling from the slit and lubricating his skin under your palm. His mouth left your skin, head tilted back. Those pretty brown curls were already plastered to his forehead, sex and love hanging heavy in the hot air, and when your eyes locked with his half-lidded ones, you knew you weren’t going anywhere. 
Like a silent oath, one he could read in your gaze, he knew it too. It would never be so easy to leave, to walk away from him, from this. Things may need to change, but you’d work through them together, because you couldn't just leave him. 
Your lips slammed together once more, passion and promise, sealed between your mouths as he moaned your name against your tongue. 
It was just like that, with his body swearing his dedication into your flesh with every touch that you came, crying his name as you unravelled around his fingers, letting him whisper and coax you through it. Your body was shaking in his, leaning into him for support, his lips at your temple. 
“Was that good, doll?”
“So good, Tommy.” Your breathless bliss was short-lived, before you could process it, he was pushing you backwards one hand on your chest firmly pressing you into the sheets, and a smirk on his lips as he looked down at you. 
“Good, it’s only getting better from here.”
His movements showed no gentleness as he tore at the rest of your clothing, your body half dragged down the bed as he stripped you bare. Heat roared through your veins and a blush coated your cheeks, the same way it always did when he manhandled you in such ways. He stripped off his own clothes, nearly tearing the fabric from his body until he was as gloriously naked as you were, every inch of pale, scarred, perfect flesh exposed to you. 
His grip on your thighs was bruising as he pressed them apart, hardly giving your foggy mind a moment to process, giving your body no chance to truly settle, before he was on his stomach before you, tongue swiping up the evidence of the orgasm he’d just wrung from you in his lap. 
You jolted, one hand flying to his hair as the other gripped the sheets in your fingertips, a scream on your lips as he lapped the flat of his tongue across your sensitive clit. “Tom, oh, fuck!”
He moaned in response, the feeling buzzing across your skin as your hips ground up against his face, every part of your scrabbling for purchase as you sank into the pleasure of it. He went again and again, fingers gripping your thighs, holding them parted for him, before finally, he sucked your clit between his lips, and you sobbed out an attempt at his name. 
“Tom, fuck, fuck— I can’t—”
“Oh, let’s not lie, doll.” He pulled back, a sharp smack across your clit, a skittering pain that made you clench around nothing, so hard you swore you’d cramp, “We both know you can, and you will. You’ll come all night if I decide it. Now, be a good girl.”
“You’ll be the death of me, Tom Riddle.” Your words were stuttered out between heavy, panted breaths, and he chuckled as he resumed his work. The dark declarations of adoration were always something he had loved, especially when he had you on his tongue, driving you mad. 
Over and over he worked, kissing, licking, sucking, biting, until your eyes were rolled back in your head, writhing in the sheets, dripping just for him to lap it up, his name like a mantra, all you could think of. Your climax teetered on the brink, your hips rolled up unto his face, chasing with such wanton need that all shame went out of the window and your fingers twisted where they were buried in his dark hair. 
“Tom, I’m—”
“Gonna’ come? You there already, doll?” You would feel embarrassed for his taunts if you weren’t so needy, like a bitch in heat, and you just nodded. A whine slipped free as he pulled back, tears in your eyes threatening to come free as you were denied once again. The bed dipped, and before you could curse, before you could hate him for taking it all away again, his thick cock parted your folds, slamming into you in one quick thrust, and you exploded. 
His hips rocked, ever so gently, dragging out your orgasm until the flutters of it faded, leaving only blissful peace in its wake. Your hands hooked under his arms as he fisted the bedding on either side of your head, kisses left on your collarbones until your body finally calmed down, and he let his mouth trail up to your own, lips brushing. 
“You belong to me, do you understand that? Just like I belong to you.” His body shifted, hips rolling back, until he was barely inside of you anymore, only for a single, deep thrust to have you crying his name, digging your nails into his flesh, praying for anything. “I’m all yours.” 
Another thrust, another cry, scratches down his back that made him hiss in excitement. 
“I don’t care how I prove it to you, I’ll carve your name into my goddamn skin if I must, whatever it takes for you to see it.”
He kept it up, the deep pace, the meaningful words, all whispered into your ear as he sucked bruises into your skin, marking you as his the way he promised he’d mark himself too. Your love with him was brutal, it was harsh and sometimes cold, but nobody loved hotter than Tom did either. 
If you asked him to, there’s no line he wouldn't cross, nothing he wouldn't do for you, and his dedication showed. It showed in the way he fucked you, holding your gaze and stopping until you looked back to him, fighting the roll of your eyes to the back of your head, or the shaking of your body so hard you could barely breathe. It showed in the hand that slipped up your skin, fingers sealing around your throat as he began to lose control, fucking without sense as he chased his own high, your core squeezing around him so tight he could barely spit out his curses and praise before losing to the end too. 
It showed in the way he hugged your body to his, skin to skin, everywhere you touched as his release filled you, dripping and escaping around his cock as he fucked the both of you through the final moments of shared ecstasy. 
It showed in the way he collapsed down on top of you, all walls gone in these few moments, shaking as much as you were as his body smothered your own. Your hand in his damp hair, the other stroking up and down his back as he continued to whisper mindless adoration and poetic love in your skin, kisses and touches that made you understand his devoted worship. 
“Tommy…”
“Right here, doll. M’right here with you, I’m all yours.”
He lifted himself at last, balanced on one weak elbow to look at you, smiling in that way only you ever saw as you tentatively brushed plastered curls away from his forehead. He leaned in, a peck left to your lips before he pulled out, wincing apologetically at the grumble that left your lips as he did. 
“Let me get something to clean you up, alright? I’ll be back.” 
You knew he would, he always was, and only moments later, he was reappearing from the bathroom with a cold cloth, parting your thighs much more gently now, and wiping your sensitive skin clean. “We forgot protection.” You mumbled, one hand coming up to rub across your forehead, too tired to care much now but a problem for the morning. 
A problem he didn’t seem to appreciate, only smirking as he cleaned himself off, before pushing one hand over your stomach. “Maybe I should knock you up, I’d like to see you leave me then.”
“Tom!” His joke was not well received, even if his raspy laugh at your chastisement warmed your heart, your arm thrown over your eyes to block him out, to relish in peaceful darkness. The dirty cloth hit the floor somewhere with a squelch, another problem for the morning, as he tugged the covers out from under your body, collapsing down beside you a moment later and tugging them up over you both. 
Then, he was peeling your arm from your face, rolling your head to the side to look at him. Gone was the smile, gone was the laughter, a serious look on his face as he studied you carefully. 
Tom shuffled a little closer, delicately brushing hair from your brow before settling a hand along the curve of your waist. 
“I like it when your cheeks get all rosy after. You look so pretty when you're glowing, just for me.” Your scoff was cut short by his lips, tugging you in until your naked body was pressed back up to his own, that palm scraping over your soft skin to hook your thigh up over his hip, and your arm lay over his shoulders lazily. “Something is telling me this isn’t over. Tell me I’m right?”
“I love—.”
“Tell me you’re staying.” He knew you too well, his grip around your waist tightening holding you to him like he feared you’d slip away. “Don’t tell me you love me unless you plan to keep doing it.”
His gaze pierced into your own, face still like stone but worry painted in his eyes, and you nuzzled your nose against his own. He bumped back, once, insistently. “I love you, Tom.”
He sighed, heavy and happy and bumped your noses together once again. A small smile pulled on his lips, and he nodded slightly as his eyes fluttered closed. “I love you too.”
“Doesn’t mean you’re off the hook, though. I’ll still make you work for it.”
“I’d expect nothing less from a future Riddle woman.”
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sweetiecutie · 1 year
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Dating Tom Marvolo Riddle
Warnings: NSFW, possessiveness, toxicity
A/n: sorry for the long absence babes! I’m in my depressive episode again, but I finally managed to finish those hc’s, they’ve been in my drafts for ages🙄. Anyways, hope you’ll enjoy it💖
Even though Tom never expresses his attraction toward you verbally, you can still see just how much you mean to him through his actions. His love is all about the small gestures like fixing the askew collar of your shirt, sharing his notes if you have difficulties in some classes, making sure that you eat enough etc.
You’re the only one who can actually touch him. Of course, teachers, especially Slughorn, often give Tom encouraging pats on the back or shoulder, but only you are allowed to touch his skin. To play with neat waves of his dark hair, brush your fingertips against Tom’s cheekbones in endearment, interlock your fingers while walking down the school halls together. Only you
Tom is very possessive, not only with treasured magical objects, but also with you. He wants everyone to know that you are his, his and his only. Most of the time one of his hands rests securely around your shoulders or waist, keeping you as close as possible, glaring down at anyone who looks at you longer than a few seconds
Because of said possessiveness Tom is almost always by your side - you sit together in all your shared classes, and if it happened that he doesn’t take one of the subjects that you do, he has his devoted followers to be right beside you instead, making sure that no ‘unreliable’ people from your class are in near proximity to you. Outside of classes - you’re almost always seated on his lap. In the common room, courtyard, library - everywhere. He especially loves it when you sit on his lap during his privat meetings in the Room of Requirements - him sitting in the head of a long table with you cuddled up into his side, surrounded by his followers listening resolutely to every word he says. It gives him such a sense of power, having not only all of his minions, but also you - the only person he loves - at his complete mercy
Every one of Tom’s followers knows better than to talk to you, unless you are the one who starts conversation. And god forbid them being anything than polite and friendly to you.
Casual dominance? Yes, Tom is all about that. He likes it when you submit to his orders, no matter how small and trivial they are. “Darling, finish your tea, you need to warm up after a walk” or “Go to bed now, it’s too late” or “Put your book down, you’ve been reading for too long. Let your eyes rest”. And it angers Tom so much when you disobey, he wants what’s best for you, why can’t you see that? Most of the conflicts you guys have are actually caused by that, because you too don’t like being pushed around like a small child
Talking about conflicts - it is extremely hard for Tom to admit that he’s wrong, so if conflicts do occur between you two, Tom makes it look like you are the guilty one (even if you’re not). So yeah, he’s still a bit toxic, no matter how hard he tries to suppress it within himself
NSFW ahead!
Despite popular opinion walking around this mesmerizing platform, I don’t think that Tom sleeps around with every person he deems attractive. In fact, I’m pretty sure you’ll be his first (and only) sexual partner, even despite all the girls and boys almost throwing themselves on him in hopes of getting at least one touch
WILL👏FINGER👏YOU👏LITERALLY EVERYWHERE👏 Okay but this man has absolutely no shame when it comes to his lover (meaning you). Plus points if you’re in public place like library or classroom, and god, is he cocky. “You gotta be quiet, yeah? Don’t wanna other people to hear how much of a slut you are, do we?” all while his long slender fingers make their way up under your skirt, past the elastic of your pretty panties, and all you are left to do is to spread your legs a bit wider for Tom, and try to be as quiet as possible. And oh, don’t forget to take notes, you’re still in a middle of a class!
NOT into daddy kink. Being an orphan, even the word ‘dad’ itself feels strange, wrong even for Tom, so if you want to call him daddy - expect him to freak the fuck out. But if you’re into names he’d love it if you call him ‘sir’ or ‘master’, it gives him sense of power and authority over you
And while we’re on this topic - you’re called everything BUT your name in bed. Tom loves calling you names - whore, slut, fucktoy, darling, sweetness, princess - all that stuff. And oh, when he mixes praise with degradations, all while fucking you absolutely stupid *sighs dreamily*. “What’s that dollface? Is it too much for you? Can this slutty cunt take no more of my cock inside, hm? Stop pretending sweetheart, I know how much of a greedy whore you are, so shut the fuck up and take it”
Definitely will pin you against the wall as he towers over your smaller form, one hand resting next to your head while the other one cups your face gently, forcing you to look him straight in the eyes while whispering the filthiest things ever, making your panties soaking wet in a matter of minutes just by using his words. “You’re so needy, aren’t you? Walking around in that short skirt, swaying your hips like that. Think I didn’t notice, hm? I’d love to see those hips swaying while you ride my cock, what do you think about that?”
Even though Tom expects full obedience from you, he still likes it when you get a bit bratty. When you comply with every one of his orders, but there’s still something mischievous and coquettish about your behavior - naughty little comments slipping off your tongue here and there, and then you are batting that pretty doe eyes up at him, as if it wasn’t you saying all those things. “Moan louder” he orders in a strained voice, hips snapping into yours with loud smacking sound. “Fuck harder then” you quip back, sly smirk curling your lips at the sight of Tom’s perfect eyebrows pulling together in a frown. Your small giggle dies in your throat as man pulls out of you, just to slam his cock all the way back into your pussy, making your body jolt forward with the ferocity of the impact. Want it harder - you get it harder
Likes, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated, they inspire me on creating even more content for you💖
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natti-ice · 22 days
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tom eating you out with his parselmouth skills ♡.
18+ mdni
Tom’s tongue game is unmatched. Him being a parselmouth gives him a leg up when it comes to controlling his tongue. He can manipulate and move it around in ways no one else has before. His tongue can flick against your clit so fast it almost becomes a vibrator, he can make you cum so fast without really putting in any effort.
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skyebounded · 24 days
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Pacify Her
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© Skyebounded, do not use my work, but you may share it.
Masterlist   .Harry Potter Universe Masterlist.
premise: The devil was real, and you were prepared to do anything for him.
pairing: Professor Tom Riddle x Fem!Reader
warnings: dark elements, toxic obsessions, possession (but not the scary supernatural kind) smut (p in v-fingering-etc) tom riddle (his own warning) there is probably a lot more...
wc: 4.2k
a/n: this is beautiful and I don't care if you don't agree. shoutout to @demiguisemoon for keeping me company throughout this ride.
enjoy the playlist that I made for this story!
He never truly knew what you were capable of, or more so what his influence would do to you, and that was the problem. He had completely underestimated you, and that would be not only your downfall, but his as well. Pretty and pliant, that's what you were to him, the perfect match, not only intellectually, but emotionally as well. You suited him. From the moment you stumbled into his compartment on the train, down to the moment that you sat down in front of him, not a word muttered, but yet a conversation was had. You understood him, and quite frankly, he understood you, or so he believed.
No one understood him the way you did, the way that you clung to his every word like gospel. Feeding into his absurdities, but never once looking at him as if he was wrong. You supported him. Truth was you were obsessed. Incomplete and broken without him, much like a wounded bird, someone he could fix, take care of, mould into something he wanted, and you lived for it. Lived for the moments that he taught you, helped you, controlled you. The moments where he needed you and only you. At his beck and call in the late hours of the night, or for the favours that could ultimately get you expelled, for anything he wanted, and you’d do it, obediently. You were his. You belonged to him from the first moment, and though neither of you knew it, he belonged to you. 
“Is this seat taken?” You asked, slipping into the compartment faster than he could respond, but he didn’t. He pulled his nose from the daily prophet to study you. He had never seen you before, which was odd considering you were in his house, the green and silver snake adoring your breast, a Slytherin, and a pretty one at that, an old soul and kindred spirit…of sorts. There was something in the way you looked at him, that dutiful look in your piercing eyes, a look as if you could see into the deepest darkest depths of his soul, something he was certain he had well hidden, and yet what you saw didn’t alarm you. Somehow it didn’t scare him, it intrigued him, you intrigued him. He watched as you slid the door closed behind your back, before sliding into the seat across from him, hands trapped behind your back, and your head cocked to the side as you studied him. The slightest of smiles on your face. He should have known then, known what you would become to him, but he could never have suspected you to be as such.
Frail and malleable, obsessed and devoted, and you were his. His star, his pet, his property. You grew to need him, unable to do without the moments you shared with him. You found yourself lingering in the back of his classes, hoping that he would catch a fleeting glimpse of you, needing you for something, anything, to utilise you, need you. For the moments that he’d call for you in the late hours of the night, for the small favours that could leave you expelled or worse, with the promise that nothing bad was going to happen to you, he wouldn’t let it. The hours that you spent with him, soon turned to days, weeks, stealing away any moment that you could, eager to please, to be close. Somewhere in the dim candle light of his office, stolen glances, gentle touches, words exchanged. Finding yourself desperate for the after hours of study in the library, the ones where you could find him making his way from the restricted section, his pretty nose stuck within the pages of his books. Knowing you were there, dutifully watching him, waiting for the right opportunity to seek him out or for him to call for you. 
Your life had become dull. Classes lacked challenge, you found little to no enjoyment in day to day activities, your friends became distant memories, dramatic, but even your mundane routines lost flavour. All you had was him, and the little periods of time you spent by his side. At his beck and call, seduced by the ways he consumed you. Your mind, your body, and most definitely your tainted soul. He knew it too, knew that he could use you for anything his heart desired, that you would do nothing but obey him, follow blindly if he requested it of you, no questions to be asked. A perfect pawn, follower. The more eager you became, with the incessant need to do more, be more for him, he took to it. Giving you more and more to do. It had soon become a list of tasks, simple favours as he would call it. Hide this, seek out this, do this…And you did, you did all of it. 
Your blood rushed as you closed the office door behind you, back pressed against the firm wood, hands clasped behind you, as your eyes scanned the dimly lit room until you found him. In the centre of the room, sat plainly in his chair, eyes roaming your eager figure. He looked as though he sat on a throne, one of his own creation, his arms extended out on the sides of the chair, comfortable and yet cold, observant. “Did you get it?” was all he said, leaning forward over his desk, the faintest traces of a smile on his face when the stifled giggle of yours fleas from your lips. You held it up, in the palms of your small hands presenting it to him, the book he had sent you to find. Restricted, forbidden even, and you had managed it, with his help of course. “Of course.” you whispered. He beckend you over with the bend of two slender fingers, and you moved on your own volition, approaching him with such eagerness. He took the book from your palms, his fingers ghosting over your soft skin, and you wonder if it was on purpose. “Good girl.” There it was, the praise you strove for, the praise that came from him and him only. The slightest flick of his wand had the door clicking locked, as his eyes came to study you once more. There was a fascination in his gaze, the way his eyes softened to you, desperately trying to hide the hunger that he felt towards you. You had something that he had never quite found in anyone else, something that made him crave you more than he had for anyone else…and there it was, the thought that you were his and only his. 
His eyes left you, meeting the pages of the book you had stolen for him, consuming every word on the stale worn parchment. While he was entranced, devouring the text, you were devouring the sight of him, leaning over the desk, eyes droning over the pages. He was stunning this way. The crease in his brow, eager to learn, and you were right there with him, desperate to know just what held him so captivated, leaning over his desk in hopes of catching the slightest bit of the contraband he had tasked you with stealing, no concern for what could have happened to you if you had been caught. But you knew that somehow, if that had been the case, he would have protected you, always, he would be there. His eyes darted up from the page, a lustful hunger to them, but for you or for the knowledge he had been enthralled with, you weren’t sure. “Look.” he instructs, slumping back in his chair, gesturing to the page, the hints of a smile on his lips. Clasping your hands behind your back, you leaned over the mahogany desk, feeling the hem of your uniform riding up in the back, exposing yourself to him as you did your best to read what was before you, eyes focussing on the text of ancient runes. It wasn’t of much use, you simply couldn’t read it. “I can’t read it, sir.” you mutter, chancing a look back at him. His eyes were shamelessly crawling up the length of your bare legs, and to the swell of your ass. He had looked at you like this before, that strained look in his eyes, like he was in deep thought but those thoughts were ones that he would never quite say aloud, the smallest of smirks on his lips, as he dragged his tongue along them. “I see..” he remarks, slowly pulling his gaze away from your ass, to meet your much more innocent gaze. It was one of his favourite things to do. To teach you, to watch you learn from him. It gave him the sweetest sense of power and meaning. “And what would you have me do about that, darling?” He leaned forward, his eyes cold and narrowed, but that flick of amusement dancing across them.
“Read it to me?” It was a simple request, your voice strong and confident. You wanted to know, wanted him to show you, and he seemed to like the idea. Tom hummed, a sweet sound of satisfaction, as his slender fingers wrapped around your dainty wrist, pulling you down onto his lap, a gesture he had never quite done before. He was confident in his motions, calculated and collected. He knew what he wanted, and that was you. His hands remained on your hips, fingers drumming on your thighs. “Read it to you, hmm?” He hums, delicately brushing a strand of your hair away from your neck, the tips of his fingers ghosting over your throat. Goosebumps lining your skin, while his other hand trailed slowly up your bare thigh. Gentle touches that were purposeful, and well measured. Even in this, he was in control. In control of himself, and of the situation. “How will you ever learn if I just read it to you?” “Teach me then..” you blurt, your voice had never been so soft, so demanding and yet desperate. “Sir..” you add, looking back at him. His thumb had started to draw soft slow patterns on your inner thigh, dangerously close to your cunt. “Teach you….” You could see that he was mulling it over…”teach you…” he cooed in approval, a sinister grin consuming his face. “Very well, darling, teach you, I shall.” He gave a hearty squeeze to your thigh, your breath hitching and your body tensing for a brief moment in his lap, shifting your attention back to his face. Pretending as if he couldn’t see the way your eyes studied him, the way they seemed to have heart shaped iris that were only for him.  
His own gaze was casted past you, eyes scoured the pages before him, looking for something suitable to turn into a lesson. His hands still wandering aimlessly on your skin. “Here…let's start simple…” He leaned back enough, turning to look at you, his breath fanning across your lips from being so close. His eyes trailing up your features until his eyes met yours. “This rune here…” he starts, grasping your jaw with his index and thumb, turning your face, back to the book. “This rune…’othilia’ corresponds to the Latin letter…?” “o.” you state, looking to him for approval, his approval. A soft smile was all he gave you. “And what do you think it means…” His hand, resting under your skirt, had found its way to the crease of your hips and thighs, squeezing at the supple flesh, while his thumb thrummed against your clothed cunt. You found it hard to concentrate, to really look at the shapes on the page, but you had to. “Um…power, wealth?” you tried, letting out a breathy sigh, when his thumb found its way into the damp fabric of your panties, rolling soft circles into your swollen clit. You felt his lips against your ear, your head lulled back against his shoulder. “It means, heritage, possession..” he punctuated the last word with a flick of his thumb, a gesture that had a sweet moan falling from you. With precision he gently rolled his finger over your bud, nipping at your ear with each sweet sound you let out. “Focus….” he coos, drawing your half lidded eyes back to the book. “This one, ‘mannaz’,  tell me its correspondent…” Your mind was muddled. He had pulled the wet fabric away from your cunt, traipsing his slender fingers through your folds, collecting your sweet arousal, teasing your entrance as he waited for your response. “Go on…what is it.?” You hummed softly, searching your mind for what it could possibly be. “Um..it’s ‘m’ the latin ‘m’..” you whimpered, feeling the intrusion of a single digit slipping into your sopping heat. He was rewarding you, with each correct response you gave him. “And what does it mean?” 
You weren’t sure how much of this he really thought you could handle, not with the way that his finger was slowly thrusting in and out of you, his thumb languidly massaging your tender clit. He was watching you, his own gaze lidded, dark. Hungry. He was enjoying this, enjoying the way that he had you, pulling answers from you with simple touches. “Don't make me stop, what does it mean?” he teases, and yet somewhere in the pit of your stomach, you knew that he would. That he would leave you high and dry at a moment's notice. Your eyes had fallen closed, summoning all of your strength to answer him, as he slipped another finger into you, curling them against your sweet spot, just to feel your breath hitch and your body shutter in his grasp. You could feel the way that his cock had hardened beneath you, kept from you by the confines of his trousers, and it did little to help you focus any, it was cruel. “It means…ma-man?” you gasped out, his pace increasing. His lips met the side of your neck, tenderly kissing every bit of exposed skin that he was presented with, careful not to leave a single mark on that delicate skin of yours. “Very good..” he coos, his hot breath felt on your neck and ear. His fingers toyed relentlessly with your aching cunt, his thumb circling your clit gently, and his lips littering chaste kisses to your exposed skin. He had quickly given up on the lesson at hand, now far too consumed in the way that you were writhing happily in his grasp, soft sweet sounds escaping past your lips. Your back arched into him, your head resting on his shoulder as you lost all coherency. Lewd sounds left you like a sinful prayer, trickling past your lips with no real power to stop them. 
You whined, feeling the emptiness in your cunt as he pulled his fingers from you, only to have them brought up to your chapped lips, as he slid not one but both fingers into your mouth, pressing down on the pad of your tongue. A silent order, to taste yourself, to clean up the mess that you had made, and you did without hesitation, closing your lips around them, letting your tongue lap up any and all of the arousal that coated his fingers. He cooed, sweet and simple praises, between delicate chaste kisses to your neck. His free hand wanders the expanse of your neck, down to the top of your blouse, deftly popping the buttons one by one. His touch was featherlight, a mere ghost over your skin, and such a thing allowed for goosebumps to litter your skin. His thumb circles your nipple through your thin bra, smiling against your neck as it perks at his touch. He loved the possession he had over your body, the way you would let him do whatever to it as if it was his own, and you would argue that it was. That it belonged to him, that you belonged to him. 
You weren’t sure when it changed, the suddenness of it all, but you found yourself being gently laid down against the hard polished wood of his desk, your back draping over the materials he had been studying, and your skirt pushed up your waist. His body hovered over yours, his hands gliding up under the blouse that he had worked open, greedily exploring the exposed skin, his head ducked and lips ghosting over the spot his hands had touched mere seconds ago. Your eyes had fallen shut somewhere along the way, relying on your other senses completely. Gentle kisses, soft bites, and languid movements of his tongue as he dragged it up your sternum and neck, taking in the sweet smell and taste of your delicate skin. You arched into his touches, soft sweet sounds escaping you at every one. Each of your senses flooded with nothing but him. His lips were pending over yours, a silent acknowledgement, that everything would be on his terms, and you were okay with it. 
He didn’t bother to kiss you, and you didn’t request it of him either. 
Tom made quick work of removing his trousers, before his hands slid up your thighs, fingers ghosting over your cunt, teasing you just enough to keep you present in the moment. He hooked his fingers over your panties and pulled them aside, the cool air hitting your bare cunt, a soft hiss escaping your lips.  With his free hand, Tom wrapped his slender fingers around your chin, using his index and thumb to pull your face up to his. His eyes were cold, animalistic desire dwelling past the dark shade of brown. He tilted your head down so that you could watch the way his swelling cock slid into your tight cunt, forcing you to understand that he owned you, now in body as well.
Your mouth hung open in a silent gasp, the unrelenting feeling of him stretching you out was nothing shy of pain, but a sweet sweet pleasure. He watched your face, mocking the way you fell silent, with a sly smirk to his perfect lips. He forced you to watch every sinful inch of him disappear deep into your greedy cunt, time and time again. He wanted you to understand, to grasp the claim he had on you. You were being rewarded for your diligence, for your obedience, and he wanted you to know that you were his, only his. No one else could touch you like this, that's what he was saying to you. 
Tom let go of your face, as he gripped your hips, jerking you towards the edge of the table. Your hands fall back to support you, arching your back slightly as you watch him with lidded eyes. As he moved, his pace picking up with each passing moment, you began to lose yourself to the delicious drag of his heavy cock, your sinful mantra of moans and whimpers filling the dark empty spaces of his office. His fingers gripping onto the soft pliable flesh of your thigh and hip was bruising, another simple yet effective reminder of who you belonged to. 
He watched each little tick of your face, each pleasure filled twitch of your lips as you fought off a smile at the feeling of him, taking in each little puff of air that left your parted lips, each pant and moan of satisfaction. He coaxed nothing but the best out of you, building your release at his own desire, his own pace. Your head fell back, your eyes falling closed as you did. You were consumed by the feeling of him and your body was reacting to it in the only way it knew how. 
You felt his hand leave your thigh first, before feeling it wrap around your throat, his long slender fingers wrapping around the curve of your jaw, as he willed you to look at him once more. 
“You keep those pretty little eyes of yours…on me,” he whispered forcefully. There was no room for mistake, you would watch him as he possessed every part of you. He controlled it all, and you’d let him, you’d let him do it forever. 
That's when it all changed. 
He had been sweet seduction, and the thought alone drew you closer….until she came along. Professor. Hawkethorn had never been his match, not the way you were. She didn’t understand him, she didn’t see him for what he truly was. She had fallen trap to his charm, and that was only the surface. You watched it happen, your late night sessions with him faded, he seemingly didn’t need you as much, and he gave not even the slightest inkling why. He said nothing, entertained nothing, did, nothing. His time seemed occupied, but not by you, by her. Selvine Hawkethrone, the new history of magic professor. 
Fine, checkmate. He didn’t want to see you? then you would make him. See you at your fullest, see that you were always there, that you had never left, and more importantly, that you were still very much his to possess. 
He needed to see you, not her. He had no business with her, she wouldn’t do the things that you did for him, you were certain of that. She was only a disruption, a threat to what you guys shared, and she had to go. You wanted to show him your devout loyalty, the extremes that you were willing to go to keep him, to protect him, to *serve* him, and so you would. 
You sat in *his* chair, his office dark and cold, nothing that you minded, as you waited…waited to hear the sound of polished heels clack on in the smooth stone outside the door. You pulse steady as the door opens, a small sliver of light filling the room. 
“Tom?” her soft voice echoed off the shelves of books, as she warily stepped inside. Once the door was shut, you waved your wand lazily, the candles that surrounded his office springing to life with a dull crackle. Her eyes met yours immediately, and they widened almost as if they had seen something they shouldn’t have. She looked fearful. You had a crazed look in your eyes, as you looked over her in silence. She was pathetic, dressed in her best clothes as if she was expecting to meet Professor Riddle, and that's exactly what you had told her, in your little letter. Told her to meet you here, that you desired to see her, all pretending to be your dear dear professor, and she fell for it. Pathetic. 
“You don’t deserve him….” you said, your tone hollow, as you watched her flinch slightly. “Did you really think that he would want you? Send for you? Come on Selvine…you have more sense than that…” you continued, pulling yourself to stand up, walking around the desk, your fingers taunting the flame of the candle. “Professor…you were never going to be his match, his equal…he is destined for great things and you were never going to be the one to help him fulfil that…your just….” You gestured to her with the tip of your wand as if to say something cruel, your face contorted in disgust. “Weak, you're just plain….ordinary…” you said, a mock tone of pity, your face in a frown. 
Selvine said nothing, but reached for her wand slowly, not sure what to expect from you, but you saw it…”ah ah ah, don’t do that..” you warned. You were now pointing your wand directly at her, your grip firm and unwavering. You take a deep breath, tired of this moment…Selvine opened her mouth to say something but you were quick to silence her, ”Save it professor, you shouldn’t touch things that aren’t yours.” 
You flicked your wrist and a green jet of light bursted out of the tip of your wand without remorse. You watched with glassy, transfixed eyes as her lifeless body crumbled to the floor with a thump. The simple unforgivable curse stealing what small pathetic life she had out of her. She was gone. Dead. you lowered your wand to your side, and stood there, slightly shocked by what you had done. 
Tom had slipped out from a dark corner of his office, one where he had stood, watching the entire thing transpire before his eyes. His cold gaze watching you as he approached. Your eyes snapped up to meet him, startled, and unaware that he had been watching the entire time..but that meant that he had seen it, seen the lengths you would go to just for him. You had used the unforgivable curse, for him, something that you had never done before.  
You felt yourself soften, at his appearance, as he stepped over the lifeless body like it was nothing but scum beneath his foot as he approached you. Gripping your chin like a child as he pulled you to meet his gaze. He almost looked pleased, a small sense of approval in his tepid gaze.  
“You can't tell anyone, Professor, I did this for you...she was a threat, and I took care of it, I killed her for you...for us.” you pleaded softly, scared that you had upset him. 
The darkness he lurked in had always been seductive, and when he held out his hand to guide you, how could you say no. You followed, eyes never leaving his, entranced by the beauty of it all, the beauty of the power and knowledge that he possessed. And he was going to share it all with you. It was then that you knew, the devil was real, and you were prepared to do anything for him. “I won’t tell anyone, it's our little secret.”
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cardansriddle · 1 year
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Teach Me (part 2) - (tom riddle x fem!reader)
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part 1
warnings: smut. public sex. unpretected sex. not proofread bc i'm living on the edge today.
A/N: okay we all know i'm shit at writing smut so feel free to judge. i am not at all satisfied with how this turned out but oh well. you ask and i shall deliver.
buymeacoffee <3
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You were on edge.
With every step you took in the castle grounds, with every turn around a corridor, you expected to hear the not-so-hushed whispers and the not-so-subtle dirty glances thrown at you for your indecent behaviour. 
But they never came.
You were growing paranoid with every passing day, and you had convinced yourself that the Slytherin boy who had seen you and Tom in a compromising position was just waiting for the ideal moment to blast the bomb and bring on your ruination. 
You glanced at your friend sitting next to you, on the seat that you usually reserved for Tom, but now that you were trying to avoid him, you had forced your friend to sit near you. 
"Heard anything interesting lately?" You subtly questioned, knowing she could never resist the temptation of gossip. She smiled mischievously and leaned forwards so that her words would not be heard by unwelcome ears. 
"Walburga Black was caught in a broom closet..." She took a dramatic pause and widened her eyes. "With her cousin!" She whisper-yelled, and you were quite sure the students sitting in front of you tensed and shared a curious glance with each other at the new piece of gossip. 
Despite your inner disgust, you only chuckled weakly and your eyes strayed around the room in search of—
Tom was staring at you. There was no particular emotion displayed on his face, but you could tell he was displeased. You quickly turned around to face your desk in front of you, willing your heart to slow to a steady rhythm. You cursed the way he could affect you just with his stare.
"Are you alright? You look flushed." 
You smiled at your friend. "It's just hot in the room. I am fine."
Yet all throughout the class, you were uncomfortably aware of his gaze at the back of your head.
So when the professor dismissed you, you rushed to collect your things and sprung to your feet to make your swift escape. You were almost out the door when a hand grabbed your arm and pulled hard enough to have you crashing into someone's chest. 
You were about to yell at whoever had pulled back, but when you lifted your gaze from the green-silver tie wrapped around the culprit's neck, you could not find the words. 
Tom was staring down at you with a raised brow as if daring you to utter a word. "Come with me." And before you could object, he was dragging you with him, hand tight around your arm. 
"Tom! Let me go." You whisper-yelled, throwing glances behind your back to see if students had caught on to the scene. But fortunately, they were blissfully unaware. "Someone might see us. Let me go!" You attempted once again, but Tom only shot you a dark glare.
When he made a sharp turn to the left, you realised you were in one of the abandoned hallways. "Tom Riddle, unhand me this instant!" You raised your voice before tugging your arm out of his grip, and he looked at you in mild bewilderment. 
"You have been avoiding me." He broke the pregnant silence, brown eyes piercing right through you with their intensity. 
You threw your hands in the air in frustration. "Are we seriously doing this here? Right now?" 
He cocked his head to the side in interest as he watched your antics. When his gaze did not relent, you sighed and decided to just go out with it.
"What do you not understand? I am quite sure you are aware that if the boy ever decides to open his mouth, I will be ruined."
He hummed, those intoxicating dark eyes still watching you. "That still does not explain why you have been running away from me." 
"Are you serious? I am mad at you, Tom! For the smartest person in this school, you are pretty damn idiotic to me—" He frowned at that, "—And you stood there and did nothing when he witnessed us! You could have spoken to him and convinced him not to say anything, yet all you—"
"I obliviated him."
"What?"
"After you left, I obliviated him." He repeated as if he was stating the obvious. 
You backed away, unsure how to proceed with this information. 
"I thought you would figure it out." He added with his brows pinched together. You gave him an incredulous look, silently asking how in the world you could figure that out magically.
"You are horrible," You muttered.
He rose a single brow, trying to hide his amusement, and in a mock inquisitive tone, he proceeded to ask, "Oh, I am?" 
"Yes! It has been hell for me while you were allowing me to live in this miserable state." With an angry huff, you pushed him on the chest with all your might. He barely even moved from your attack, and if anything he was fully smirking now, which aggravated you even more. "I hate you!" 
As you were about to push him once again, he managed to grab a hold of your wrists and held them against his chest, causing you to stumble straight into him. You looked up at him from your position, and your breath hitched in your throat at the nonexistent proximity left between you. His eyes were a shade darker, just like they were on that day when he had kissed you. You could only assume it was desire pooling in his irises, drowning the warm brown shade in its wake. You licked your lips almost subconsciously, and his gaze dropped to watch the action.
"Tom?" You spoke hesitantly, your voice small and breathy. 
"Do you wish for me to teach you more? Hm?" He whispered hoarsely, breath fanning against your mouth and you could not help but lean closer. "Do you wish me to teach you how to pleasure a man?" He gulped, and you were transfixed as you watched him close his eyes as if he was imagining every possible scenario of you doing those things to him. When his eyes reopened, they were burning with an emotion that made your knees tremble. "Or perhaps I could show you all the ways a woman could be pleasured?" His hand rose to caress the skin of your cheek. You nodded, not being able to form any coherent words with the obscene way he was speaking. 
He tutted, displeased. "I need to hear you say it."
"Please, Tom. Yes. Please." 
Your desperate plea was all he needed before he brought his lips down to connect with yours in a heated kiss. Your mind began to feel dizzy as he moved his lips against yours, and you quickly freed your hands from his hold in order to weave them behind his neck.
He began pushing you back until you felt your back hit the cool texture of the wall, and he pressed into you desperately. 
"Someone could see us," Came your strangled whisper when his mouth travelled to the spot where your jaw met your neck, but he did not answer you as he bit into the delicate skin, marking it with his teeth. Your hands grabbed a hold of his hair and tugged at it to yank his lips from your neck, and he let out a low groan of your name at the action. 
"Let them see." He murmured before reconnecting his lips with yours. "Let them witness how I ruin you for everyone else, so they know you are only for me."
You whimpered at Tom's words. You had never felt such desire in your life. Never had your blood burned so desperately for someone. You wanted all of him. You wanted him to consume you whole. 
Tom pulled at your school robe, doing a quick work of undoing it until it fell and pooled on the floor.
His grip on your waist tightened as he ground the constricting material of his pants between your legs, and you gasped at the feeling of his hardness pressed against you. "Tom, please." You begged once again, all shame and embarrassment gone from your body and replaced with only raw need.
Tom's hand left your waist and began travelling lower. He bunched up your skirt, and you whined when the tips of his fingers teased the skin of your inner thigh. You felt him smirk against your lips at the effect he was having on you. He skimmed his knuckles against your closed heat, causing you to throw your head back against the wall and flutter your eyes shut. "Stop teasing me."
"You are so wet for me and I have barely even touched you," He said as he pushed your underwear to the side and finally touched you where you needed him the most. A moan left your lips at the feeling of his fingers sliding against you, and you wondered not for the first time if Tom would be your undoing. You were overwhelmed with pleasure, and you felt him breathe faster against the skin of your throat as if he was enjoying this almost as much as you were. 
His fingers made a mess of you, and you were chanting his name like a prayer, uncaring of the possibility that someone could discover you.
"I need you."
Your hands dropped to his pants, and you hastily attempted to undo them, only for Tom to pause his ministrations with a displeased hum. "Greedy girl." You watched, utterly transfixed as rose his fingers and put them in his mouth as if to savour your taste. Your cheeks burned at the sight, and you swore you had never seen anything so obscene in your entire existence. 
"Beg for it."
You almost choked. "What?"
"You want me? Then you will beg for me." 
You shuddered at the commanding tone, and something about it made you even more desperate. Desperate to please him. 
"Please." You pleaded. "Please, Tom."
He got rid of his pants while you begged with no shame, but he did not seem entirely satisfied with your cries. "What do you want? Say it." He demanded, and you felt him tease you right where you needed him, yet he held back, not quite pushing inside you. 
"I want you to ruin me." You breathed out, and you hoped he would not ask you to say anything else because you were not sure if your brain would be able to string up a sentence together. The sensation of him rubbing against you was enough to clog your brain, and you forgot all else except him.
He tightened his grip on your hip, and you briefly wondered if he would leave a mark. "Good girl." Is all he muttered before pushing forwards and sliding into you torturously slowly until he filled you to the brim. 
It was painful. But in that pain, there was a particular type of pleasure you had never experienced before. You were convinced you would descend into madness at the feeling of him filling you completely. You could not tell where you began and he ended, it was as if you were one. 
Tom dropped his head into the crook of your shoulder, groaning your name in a way that almost pushed you over the edge. "Tell me I can move."
"Yes. Please, move."
At your plea, he exhaled and rose his head so he could watch your face instead as he drew back. You gulped, hand tugging at the nape of his neck because he was already pushing back inside of you. You felt so full of him, eyes rolling into the back of your head as you relished in the euphoria that washed over your body every time he rolled his hips against yours. 
This was a sin. The aching pleasure in your body had to be a sin. You never thought it was possible to feel the way you did at that moment, and you swore you would sin for the rest of your life and burn for it if it meant you could relive this moment over and over again. 
When you opened your eyes, Tom's gaze snapped up from where he had been watching your hips move against his and there is a darkness in his eyes, as if he was ready to devour you whole. 
"You feel so good. All for me. Only for me."
The lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin echoed in the hallway, and you quickly pulled him closer so you could connect your lips with his in a kiss. His grip on your thigh tightened at the action, to the point where you were sure there would be marks in the shape of his fingers the next day, but the thought only spurred your pleasure. As if that was not enough, he pulled away from your lips to latch his mouth on your throat, biting, sucking, and kissing until you knew that the skin of your neck would look like a warzone. 
"Tom...I—I'm..." 
He exhaled sharply and quickened the pace of his hips. "I know, I know." 
Your body was getting caught on fire with his every hard thrust, and you felt yourself approaching your high, the fire burning brighter and brighter in your body until—
"Tom..." You moaned as you felt yourself peak, and your eyes shut in ecstasy. 
He continued to thrust into you, his movements becoming sloppier and sloppier, chasing his own relief. He gasped your name into your mouth, and you felt him spill himself inside you, reaching his high. 
Your head dropped against his chest, your body limply melting in his hold from exhaustion. Both of you panted heavily, trying to regain your composures, and you heard him chuckle lightly. 
"What?" You asked, finding enough strength to raise your head and look at him. He was wearing a lopsided smirk, and you subconsciously reached out to brush the sweaty strands of his hair back, as if it was the most natural thing to do. 
His eyes flicked between your own, glinting with mirth. "When you first asked me to show you how to kiss so you would be prepared for your future husband, I never imagined it would lead us here."
"Well, Mr Riddle, do you think my husband will be satisfied with what I have learned so far?" You teased with a smile, which turned mischievous when he suddenly glowered as if offended. 
"What I think, darling is that you are delusional if you think I would let anyone else near you now that I have had you. Let alone wed you."
His gaze roamed your features, and for the briefest of moments, you wondered if you imagined the flash of red in his eyes. 
"You will have no husband to impress. You shall remain as my student and I will teach you how to satisfy me." 
You rose a brow at his words, and you could not help but ponder if he was simply jesting, or if the territorial tone in his voice was actually serious. "Oh? And what if the student becomes the master? What will you do then?"
"Then I shall learn how to worship your body until you know no one else's touch but mine."
And when he lay his forehead against yours in an uncharacteristic display of affection, you knew he had no intention of ever letting you go. 
༻♛༺
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morwap · 1 year
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Tom riddle coming home late and just cock warming you
you waited in bed for him, he was normally late so this wasn’t a surprise.
you lifted your head once you heard the door creak open, tom was already half dressed, he was unbuttoning his shirt and his pants were already unbuttoned and unzipped and his belt hung loosely.
it wasn’t long before he was in bed cuddling you from behind, cock out and inside of you. his forehead pressed against your back and his arm wrapped around your waist.
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psychedeliccc · 5 months
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I've probably read more fanfics than I've ever read my school books tbh.
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riddlesdoll · 1 year
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can you rec some of your fav tom riddle fics? 🤍
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omg, someone finally asked this question!!
1.) His Dark Lady - dxddydracomalfoyyy
This is probably the most loveable of them all, my fave book of all time.
2.) A Riddle to Solve - SSTAR2000
Another really unique book, the mc is really powerful although some parts are a bit cringe (?) because it feels like she's everything like those memes on tt of y/n. Overall a good book though (try it out).
3.) Oh, Ophelia - Maebelletree
I really love this too especially because it is a unique book, I haven't read any other tmr books like this.
4.) Now and then - hmmdisgustin
It is just like the title going back and forth from now and then.
5.) Kneel - JulieHoscar
I absolutely abhor Tom Riddle in this book, but I'm still going to recommend it because I still do like this book. This book make me feel ambivalent.
6.) RIDDLE. DISCONTINUED - ravenclaws-
Although this book was discontinued, it still has a very good plot line, it shouldn't have been discontinued, but I guess it is very hard to write a story. Maybe in the future it will be renewed (?) hopefully.
7.) Midmorning - murderarts
This book is heartbreaking, even though it is only a short story, I still feel emotionally attached to it.
That's it for the recommendation, notice I did 7? It's because it is believed that Tom riddle rather likes the number 7 and also because of his seven horcruxes.
DISCLAIMER: All of these are in wattpad!!
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ms-fade · 2 years
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Tom riddle 18+ Drabble- Gryffindor Fem!reader.
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“That’s a good girl.”
His cock slammed in and out of you as his fingers hit the right spot on your neck to make u loss air, his cock hit the right spot from in side of you. Your body laid back onto the table in the library as your legs wrapped around his waist. The table creaked with each thrust and a sob of please leaving your lips. “You my little slut huh?” You could hear his smirk and didn’t even bother opening your eyes, “Taking my cock in the library and not caring about your voice being heard.” He’d chuckle as he put on of his arms around your waist and pulled you closer to his body making you take more of his cock. “I thought you were supposed to be a gryffindor goody two-shoes?” You’d open your teary eyes just a bit and place your hands on his chest. “I-” you’re voice breaking and you couldn’t form any words and them only coming out as moans. “Can’t form the words darling? That’s fine, just take my cock and let me hear you while I fuck your brains out. Let them all know who’s slut you are.” You didn’t think he would get any rougher but when he slammed back into you a scream left your lips.
“I’ll have to keep this pussy for myself, it clinches each time I speak.” You let out a whimper as enjoying the thought and he stuck a finger in your mouth. “Like that baby. Me owning this hole of yours?” You nodded and letting your head fall back and back arch for him.
“Don’t worry, I’ll fuck you as much as you’d like.”
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hearts4court · 2 months
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Golden trio Era
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Main masterlist | rules 4 blog | Navi!
A/N: Only platonic with Luna!
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Harry Potter:
None yet!
Ron Weasley:
None yet!
Hermonie Granger:
None yet!
Draco Malfoy:
None yet!
Tom Riddle:
None yet!
Cedric Diggory:
None yet!
Luna Lovegood:
None yet!
more character will be added as time goes on! 👷🏻‍♀️🚧
don't copy, translate, or repost any of my content w/o my permission.
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blue-sadie · 3 months
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Professor Riddle
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Imagine:
Being the best student in his class but he always ignores you, avoiding looking in your general direction or snapping at you when you called out your answer after having your hand up for 10 minutes, the only communication you would have that wasn't an attack on your work ethic or body was when he'd leave a good comment in your work so one day you confront him after class when you guys were alone.
"This is highly inappropriate of you ms yn but I do not hate you quite opposite actually I don't I can't keep my eyes on you for more then a second before my thoughts start to wonder about your lips and how they'll feel wrapped around my cock so don't you ever think I hate you, you just tempt me too much"
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kostantina · 2 years
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Getting into a relationship was not something Tom had in mind when he made plans for the future, but that changed when he met you, a member of the Malfoy family with an innocence uncommon among witches, making him very enamoured with you without you having to make far too much effort for him to like you, unlike others. He was very much aware that it was not love that he felt for you, contrary to what you were wishing for. Still, he could pretend that it was and begin being in a romantic relationship with you if it guaranteed that he would be able to have you all to himself and be the first ever man to touch you in ways you hadn't experienced. Now, he found himself at your opulent manor for the Christmas celebration to which he had been begrudgingly invited and saw this as the ideal time to finally attain what he had craved for so long, and that was you. So, while your elder brother was only in another room entertaining the guests and unknowingly unlocking the gate for him to ravage you like a wolf to a sheep, he brazenly made the best of your obvious fondness for him to have a special kind of fun with you in your bedroom. If Abraxas learned about it, it would assuredly make for a comical scene—for Tom, at least.
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sweetiecutie · 1 year
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Pairing: husband! Tom Riddle x fem! wife! Reader
Warnings: NSFW, kinda public sex but there’s no one around, fluff!!, kinda domestic and soft, inaccurate bc there’s no way sexy two pieces existed back in the 1950’s💀, once again my horrible knowledge of basic grammar
A/n: really felt like writing lil something for hubby Tom🥰 Sorry for disappearing for such a long period, I have lots of cool ideas and drafts but my adhd never allows me to finish any on them;( Anyways, wish you a very pleasant reading and hope you enjoy💖
It was a sultry sunny day, the kind you experience in the middle of September, when calendar summer is already gone but the sun still gladdened people with last warm days.
It took you only a few days of bothering and fake accusation of not loving you to convince your husband Tom to finally take a day off from his job at ‘Borgin and Burkes’ and go have some fun together on a beach. He was grumpy and pouty for the first half an hour, but then seemed to accept his fate, indulging your little whims and wishes.
You didn’t manage to talk him into taking a swim together, no matter how hard you tried, but Tom did, eventually, took his shoes off and rolled up the cuffs of his trousers, standing ankles-deep into warm sea water, watching you dive and dork around in salty waves.
You were currently laying on your side on a soft picknick blanket facing Tom, left arm bent in elbow, head propped up on your hand, your eyes lazily wandering all over your husband’s side profile. He was laying on his back right next to you, arms thrown behind his head, nape resting on his palms.
Tom had changed. The juvenile plushness was long gone from his cheeks, instead leaving place for his sharp jawline and protuberant cheekbones. His hair was a slightest bit longer than it used to be during your school years, framing his pale face in dark silky waves. You noticed how he was nibbling on the inside of his bottom lip ever so slightly - a telltale sign that Tom was thinking intensely about something faraway. You fought the urge to trace the outline of his nose with gentle fingertips, knowing perfectly well how grouchy and whiny he’ll get at this action.
Your eyes wandered lower, taking in his outfit - even despite the scorching sun and high air temperature Tom refused to ditch his usual suit trousers and, this time, baby-blue shirt - instead opting to undo quite a few buttons, allowing a generous view on his pale chest.
A sudden idea visited your mind so you sat up from your semi-lying position, throwing one leg over Tom’s hips, settling yourself atop his pelvis comfortably. Your nimble fingers ran up his chest, caressing exposed areas of his skin with tender touches, all the way to his face, cradling it softly in your hands; you leaned down to scatter small kisses all over his cheeks, nose and lips.
- Y/n, what are you doing? - Tom chided you softly, the corners of his lips tugging up in slightest of smiles, even though it was pretty obvious that he was unpleased with you interrupting his thoughts.
- Trying to seduce you, - you replied stoically, not a hint of embarrassment nor unease could be heard in your purring voice.
- Right here? - Tom asked, you could hear his voice rising just a slightest bit, giving out his astonishment.
- Yeah, why not? - you said offhandedly, your lips stretching in a cheeky smile, gazing down at your husband mischievously.
- What if someone sees us? - Tom rose yet another question, cocking one of his perfect eyebrows at you.
You made a show of looking around the deserted beach, not spotting a single soul being around; not only this place was secluded by dangerously high cliffs, making it extremely hard for reaching, but also the fact that it was Wednesday - a middle of a working week - reduced chances of anyone being around to zero.
You brought your sight back to Tom, shrugging your shoulders theatrically:
- I can’t see nor hear anyone, Tommy. - one of your hands reached behind your back, gripping on the straps of your two-piece swimming suit, tugging on it slowly, un-doing the tight knot. You didn’t bother to untie the second knot on your neck, instead deciding to pull the bra off over your head, throwing it teasingly on top of your husband’s chest. - I think you’re just being a buzzkill that you are, Riddle.
You made an accent on the last word, watching Tom’s eyes wander to your now exposed tits, noticing your hardened from still unpleasantly damp fabric of your bra nipples. You cupped your breasts, pinching your nubs with thumbs and index fingers, all while slightly rocking your hips against Tom’s clothed groin, sighing erotically at the slight friction it created against your clit.
You repeated your movements a few more times, circling and swaying your hips so sensually, putting more pressure into your thrusts, increasing a pleasant feeling against both your sexes. You peeked down at Tom through your eyelashes, noting the way his chiseled jaw clenched, his dark eyes never leaving your perfect body.
You smiled widely at his hungry stare, leaning down to place a soft kiss on his chopped from salty sea wind lips - he kissed you back almost immediately. Tom’s hands came from under his nape, picking your bra from his chest and tossing it aside before coming to rest on your waist, thumbs pressing gentle circles into your heated skin.
His slim fingers wandered all over your body, eventually reaching your plushy thighs - rough fingertips glided up and down your skin, rising herds of goosebumps in their wake, stopping on your ass, giving it a reassuring squeeze.
You could feel Tom’s dick hardening at your simple manipulations, his bulge growing noticeably bigger in his pants, rubbing against your soft ass with every smallest move you made. You didn’t bother taking Tom’s trousers off, just undoing his zipper and pulling his semi-hard dick out of his underwear. You wrapped your fingers around his shaft, pumping it slowly a few times, your eyes never breaking an eye contact.
You straightened up, standing on your knees; you struggled quite a bit while taking off your bottoms, since this position wasn’t the most comfortable. You heard Tom muttering quiet ‘oh god’ under his breath in feigned annoyance, obviously teasing you, for which you lightly smacked him on the chest.
Once done and completely naked you slightly scooted forward so that your awaiting pussy was hovering right above Tom’s heavy cock. You gave him a few more jerks before leading it to your slicked folds, sliding them along his throbbing shaft, properly slicking him up with your juices. After a few more moments you aligned his swollen tip with your pulsing entrance, lowering your hips slowly, gently sinking onto his length. A satisfied sigh left both of you once Tom was fully buried inside of your quivering warmth, your ass pressed tightly against his thighs.
His broad hands came to rest on the swell of your hips, molding and playing with soft flesh in between his long fingers. You let out a small whimper as you could feel Tom’s cock stuffing you full, his tip was pressed against your cervix so deliciously, all along with a pleasant stretch on your plushy walls.
You rose your hips carefully, still adjusting to your current position, sliding off half of his length, and sank back down onto his cock, providing such desired friction. You watched his adam’s apple bob as Tom swallowed heavily, and you repeated your actions a few more times, until you found a comfortable rhythm, impaling yourself over and over again on his steady cock.
Your hands came to rest on Tom’s chest, supporting yourself against his body, back arching at the pleasant feeling of his dick grazing all the right spots inside of your throbbing pussy. Soft moans spilled out of your lips as one of Tom’s hands went down to play with your clit, skillfully circling and massaging swollen nub with the tips of his fingers. Your head lolled back, a loud cry of your husband’s name rolled off your tongue as you quickened the pace of your thrusts, rocking against him so passionately.
Tom rested one hand on your nape, putting a bit of pressure into his touch, indicating for you to lean down. You did so, lowering your torso until your chest was pressed flush against his; your lips found his in a matter of moments, connecting in a fervid kiss, his tongue slithering into your mouth, making you gasp in surprise.
Your loud moan was swallowed by Tom’s greedy mouth as he unexpectedly thrusted his hips up into your perfect squelching pussy from underneath; his free hand was gripping onto your waist tightly, fixating you into this position. You broke your kiss, burying your flushed face into the crook of his neck as his hips picked up a quick pace, fucking your pussy raw with his throbbing cock.
- Yeah? You like that, you little minx? - Tom rasped into your ear, his lips brushed against your ear shell, making you tremble slightly. You nodded your head ‘yes’ fervently, leaving open-mouthed kisses all over the side of his neck.
- I love it so much, Tommy. Please, don’t stop, please, please, - you babbled out incoherently, your mind hazed and barely working from intense pleasure rolling through your body in waves.
Tom slid his hand from your nape and along your spine, all the way down to your jiggly ass, especially relishing to grab and mold your pliable flesh with his fingers. The hard, smooth strokes of his cock inside your slicked pussy caused ecstasy to well up inside you, your body prickling, almost painfully, in foretaste of a nearing orgasm.
Your hands grabbed on Tom’s biceps, you could feel his muscles flexing underneath your touch. You bit down onto his shoulder, eliciting a quiet hiss from the man underneath you, knowing how much he disliked when you left hickeys in such obvious places. His hand left your waist to slide in between your pressed bodies, fingers finding your clit, rubbing tight circles onto it, bringing you closer and closer to your orgasm.
- Tom, ‘m gonna cum, ‘m gonna cum, please don’t stop, - you mumbled into his skin, hot and bothered, and you felt him nod at your words, his hips picking up faster pace, snapping loudly against your pliant body.
White stars hit your vision, as you felt your orgasm rippling through your trembling form, setting every nerve in your body on fire in intense pleasure. You didn’t register all the moans and pleadings slipping past your lips as you babbled in your euphoria, your quivering pussy along with dirty words only brought Tom closer to his own release.
Tom followed you soon enough, cumming with a groan and a low moan of your name, dumping his thick load deep inside of you. You laid rigid atop him, both of you trying to catch your breaths, listening to the soft whisper of wind and sea. Surprisingly, Tom was the one who broke the comfortable silence:
- A few more moments and I’d go deaf on one ear, - Tom commented and you didn’t understand what he was talking about. It took you a few moments to realize that all this time you were moaning and screaming uncontrollably mere centimeters away from his ear, surely causing a lot of discomfort, especially knowing how sensitive man was to any sort of noises.
You chuckle airily, muttering quiet ‘sorry, darling’ under your breath, your hand going up to comb your fingers through his silky, now knotted, hair, massaging his scalp lovingly.
Dragging Tom all the way here was definitely a good decision.
Likes, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! Feedback is basically the only thing that keeps writers creating new content
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natti-ice · 28 days
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Tom Riddle NSFW Alphabet.
Warnings: 18+ mdni, under the cut are NSFW headcanons
Author’s note: this is a reupload, I wrote this a while ago!
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A = Aftercare (what they're like after sex)
Tom can be quite rough during sex, he has a lot of aggression that releases during sex so he makes sure you're okay afterward. He doesn't mean to hurt you. He cleans you up after making a mess, he leaves kisses on all the areas he was the roughest(your ass mostly, he's really into spanking). He isn't always the most affectionate person in public but behind closed doors, he'll hold you and ask if you're okay.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner's)
He knows he is attractive and is very confident in himself. He has toned muscles but isn't bulky, he likes his forearms and his hands the most. He loves using his hands, he likes watching you squirm. He is definitely a tit man, but he adores your ass. A nonsexual part he loves is your neck, kissing and leaving hickeys are his foreplay.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
Creampies. He loves finishing inside of you, it feels like he's marking his territory you're his. But he does switch it up sometimes, facials are also a favorite of his. He likes when you're on your knees in front of him, he likes feeling dominant.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Before you got together he used to watch you from afar, not on some Joe Goldberg shit though. He was very fascinated with you from the moment he saw you, he needed to know more about you. You aroused him just by breathing, he often thought about what it would be like to fuck you, all the things he would do to your body.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they're doing?)
Tom is quite experienced, he had many sexual encounters before meeting you but none of them had feelings involved. When you got together he had to learn how to incorporate intimacy during sex. He immediately knew all the right places to touch you, learning your body was the easiest thing to do.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
He's more of a missionary man but where you have your ass hanging off the bed and he's fucking you while standing, it gives him more control. He likes watching the pleasure on your face, he loves turning you into a complete wreck. Also, he loves how your tits bounce when he thrusts inside of you.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
Tom's a pretty serious person so he isn't very humorous but he will chuckle when you look pathetic under his touch.
H = Hair (how well-groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
He takes a lot of pride in his looks and hygiene, he keeps everything neatly trimmed.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
At the beginning of the relationship, it was purely for sex. He wasn't too worried about romance he just wanted to get his rocks off. But as he started to fall for you he incorporated more romantic gestures. Like foreplay, going on dates, etc. In the moment he tries his best to make sure that you're enjoying yourself, he won't do anything you aren't comfortable with.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
He has always been an active masturbater, even though he can have you whenever he wants he still masturbates. He thinks about all the times he's fucked you, all the places he's fucked you, the way you melt under him, just thinking about you makes him hard.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
He has a few different kinks, he likes degradation, hair pulling, spanking, public sex, light bondage, and edging (he loves to hear you beg).
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
Honestly, he'll fuck you anywhere and in front of everyone, he loves showing off what's his. Public bathrooms are always pretty accessible when you're feeling horny in public. At home, he likes taking you on the floor, the shower, the kitchen counter, and literally every room in the house.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
You don't have to do much to arouse Tom, wearing a more revealing top can turn him on. Teasing him or making him upset makes him very horny, getting under his skin is the best way to get him into bed.
N = No (something they wouldn't do, turn offs)
Tom is pretty open to most things but he really does like to stick to the normal things he likes. I don't think he would like being a sub though unless it was something you really wanted(plus I think he'd be afraid that he would like it.)
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
Tom doesn't mind blowjobs(he prefers you to deepthroat him) he loves to eat you out. He's very skilled with his tongue, he knows the right pressure to put on your clit, fingering is also a must, and he loves hearing you moan.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
When you both first start having sex it's pretty slow and gentle, he likes working you into it. As time goes on, he gets pretty fast and rough. Being rough is a big turn-on for him, throwing you around in the bed a little bit really pushes him to the edge.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
He is always up for a quickie, especially since he knows how needy you can be. No matter if it's a quickie or not, you're having sex. Every. Day. He's also pretty busy sometimes so it helps him relieve stress.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
As I said before, he's down to try anything that you want to do even though he likes to stick to what he knows he likes. Sometimes if he's feeling spontaneous he'll suggest you try something new.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
There's a two-round minimum every time you have sex. He can last up to 30 minutes a round, he's trained himself to last longer to please you.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
He definitely has a vibrator he uses on you when he really wants to see you get worked up. You know as soon as you see it, you're getting edged. Having control of your orgasm brings him pleasure.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
THE BIGGEST TEASE! Like I said he's really into edging/orgasm denial, making you beg for it by teasing your pussy with his dick, even in public he'll whisper in your ear the filthiest things and watch you try to stay calm.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
When he's fucking you he can be pretty loud, he moans when he's deep inside of you. He's a big dirty talker, he calls you all sorts of names like slut, whore, bunny, etc. Not everything he says is degrading though, he loves telling you how good you feel.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
He's secretly always wanted to have a threesome but knows he would get too jealous and ruin it for you so he never says anything.
X = X-ray (let's see what's going on under those clothes)
He definitely has good length and girth, it's not too big to the point it hurts but it's big enough to stretch you out. For the rest of his body, he's very fit but not overly muscular. He's never really understood the desire to have big muscles.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
This man's sex drive is crazy. He doesn't really know how to deal with his emotions properly so it all goes into his sex drive.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterward)
Sex does relax him but unless you're fucking at night he won't fall asleep. After you two finish he'll cuddle with you until you fall asleep, sometimes it takes longer for him to go to sleep because he always has something on his mind.
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slytherinslut0 · 4 months
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jealousy. | slytherin boy headcanons
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author’s note: im completely unhinged, as always. no surprise there. love me some angry snake men🥵 please enjoy.
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-your boyfriend sees another guy flirting with you in the hall.
Draco Malfoy.
Sees you from down the hall as he’s walking with his friends.
“You know what, guys, I’ll catch up with you after.”
Would literally ditch his friends to make his way over, collecting himself as saunters up to you and mystery man.
Would instantly grab your ass, no hesitation, grip firm enough to bruise. When you gasp, caught off guard, he’d shift his arm up and around your shoulder, pulling you against him.
“What’re we talking about?” He’d sneer.
His voice would be laced with feign interest, smirking down at you with blaring eyes before shooting daggers at the boy.
He’d simply chuckle at you when you tell him nothing, just school stuff, leaning down to place a possessive kiss on your cheek as he grabbed your hand.
“Wonderful. let’s head to class, yeah?”
He’d pull you away from that dude, shooting him another look meant to kill, a silent warning not to fuck with him.
Finally gets you alone in an empty corridor or bathroom; would waste literally no time at all before pushing you against the wall and grabbing your neck/jaw.
“Who the fuck was that, hm?”, “he was practically eye-fucking you…give me five good reasons why i shouldn’t have him expelled or hexed into bloody Azkaban.”
He’d be furious, but he’d also know that you’d never choose some other guy over him, so he’d soften once he hears the innocence in your tone.
“You’re mine, princess,” he’d loosen his grip, kissing you softly. “Say it.”
Blaise Zabini.
Was listening to music while walking down the hall, instantly rips out his headphones the second he sees you laughing a little too hard with some dude he doesn’t know.
He doesn’t necessarily stop walking, but he’d definitely slow his pace, kind of just watching, not wanting to interfere but also not wanting to look creepy stalking you from a distance.
When the guy doesn’t leave, he’d tired of waiting, saying “fuck it”, before marching over naturally.
This man is so fucking cool calm and collected he’d just saunter right up and join in, making himself at home.
He’d practically take over the conversation because he’s literally just that chill in every situation, seamlessly fitting right in, so fucking charming and loved by everyone.
You’d kind of just end up staring at him, smiling in silent awe, knowing that this was his way of asserting his place, letting the guy know what the fuck was up.
After the dude leaves he’d just causally look at you, smirking that charming smirk, wetting his lips as he hooked an arm around your shoulder and pulled you close, leaning down for a kiss.
“Ain’t no one getting you without getting me too, babygirl.” He’d murmur against your lips. “let that be known, right now, forever, always.”
Lorenzo Berkshire.
Would literally stop everything. The second he’d see you laughing and smiling he’d be completely unable to focus on anything else and would completely zone out of any conversations with his friends.
Would get like super anxious and flustered pretty much immediately.
Wouldn’t want to intrude so he’d just kind of hang back, wait for you against the wall and try not to stare too much.
His adorable little cheeks would flush, and he’d know he seemed utterly ridiculous so he’d try to busy himself with his shoelace or something while he waits.
You’d quickly cut off the conversation and move over to him, instantly being able to tell that he’s overthinking.
He’d smile at you, though you could still see the concern on his features.
“Who was that guy, darling?”
You’d tell him he was just a friend from class, no one special at all, pulling him in for a hug and giving him a quick smoochie on the cheek.
“Don’t worry enz, no one could ever take your place.”
He’d blush, trying to play it off. “Sorry love, I know you’re my girl.”
You’d take his hand, squeezing him hard, never wanting him to doubt that for a second. “Only yours baby, forever.”
Mattheo Riddle.
“Who the fuck-“
Would literally whip his bag at Theo, hastily shoving through the crowded hallway with blazing eyes, tunnel visioned as he tried to figure out where the fuck this dude found the audacity.
You wouldn’t even have to turn around to know he’s there, you’d be able to literally feel the anger radiating off of him.
You’d already know exactly where this was heading, but you’d also know there was no attempting to stop him because it’s pointless. Everyone in the school knows that.
Matty does what Matty wants, and right now, he wants to fuck up this guys face for even thinking about flirting with you.
You’d simply look up at him, noting his tensed jaw and his dark eyes as he glances between you and the dude, before fixing back on you, wetting his lips before he says,
“Is this fucker bothering you?”
Unable to help it, you’d smirk, shaking your head as you calmly attempted to talk him down.
“No Matty, he just asked if he could borrow my study notes-“
He’d heard more than enough.
“Study notes? Yeah, I don’t fucking think so,”
Without giving the guy a chance to react, he’d reach for his collar, shoving his back against the wall, teeth barred and face contorted in a snarl as he’d hiss:
“Bother my fucking girlfriend again and the only study notes you’ll need are the ones on how to drink out of a fucking straw, understand?”
Not interested in the response, he’d shove the guy away, eyes softening instantly as he moved back over to you, thrusting a hand through your hair as he kissed you like it’d been a hundred years, right in the middle of the hall for everyone to see.
And judging by the intensity in his grip, you’d already know, later that night, he’d be extra fucking sure to ask you who the fuck you belong to while he’s fucking you.
When he finally pulled back, he’d smirk at you. “Some bloody nerve on that guy, huh?”
You’d just shake your head and laugh, taking his hand as the two of you headed for class.
Theodore Nott.
He’d spot you from down the hall, his eyes instantly narrowing, gaze darting around as though he was missing something, as though this was some sort of sick joke.
Surely, this dude is mentally unwell, right? There’s no fucking way that he’s-
Doesn’t bother to think about it for even another fucking second, instantly shoving through the crowd to make his way over.
Proceeds to wrap his arm around your waist, other hand finding your jaw and pulling your lips to his before you could even process it.
Would proceed to full-on make out with you in front of the dude, and I mean tongue and all, his grip on your jaw so tight you’d know exactly what he was trying to do.
His hand around your waist might even slip lower, grazing over your ass, and then that’s when you’d attempt to gather yourself and push him back, completely embarrassed.
He’d just shrug, smirking down at you before he’d finally acknowledge the guys’ presence with literally nothing more than a glare meant to kill.
“Move along,” he’d say to the guy while pulling you away, grip tighter than ever. “This one’s fucking taken.”
As soon as he got you alone he’d be damn sure to remind you that you’re his, and only his, making you beg and whine his name before he fucked you like you deserved the pain.
Tom Riddle.
“AVADA KEDA-“
Lowkey kidding but not really.
No one would even dare because that man would make it clear as fucking day what would happen if they tried.
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