#{ARDOUR} | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sorcerous-caress · 8 months ago

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Tiefling with a human kink finally bags a human baddie. He’s sweating just trynna act normal and not ask the human a really indecent question

"Do you cu-" clearing his throat, Ardour tail's end dug into his ankle. "Come." He corrected himself, "Do you come here often?" The tail curled around his leg tightly.

"Here?...my own house?" Expecting irony or the build up to a joke, turning your gaze away from the TV screen as you lowered the remote to face him.

Only to be met with a sincere expression. For a second, the suspicion of the guy in front of you being an idiot crosses your mind before you immediately brush it aside.

"I guess. You know, since I live here." You went back to scrolling through the list of movies.

"Cool cool."

Ardour's sharp claws traced the soft surface of the couch underneath him, taking advantage of your distracted gaze to blatantly trail his gaze up and down your thighs. Drinking in the sight of your hips. Hand curling into a fist to prevent his claws from tearing the couch.

Humans are really...so squishy. He pictures your own hand pressing between your thighs, touching yourself and chasing pleasure with desperation. How different would his own hand feel around you? Would you like grinding against the bumps and sharp bones underneath his skin? Would you enjoy the rough infernal texture of his skin against your fragile, easily injured human one?

"Did you ever fuck yourself on this couch?"

He can't say that.

"Did I ever what?"

"Uh...meet a tiefling before? Other than me?"

"No not really." You press the remote's button harder than usual, "you're my first" your eyes suddenly find the floor interesting before going back to your scrolling.

Your first.

Ardour closes his eyes, taking a sharp breath.

Your first infernal cock to stretch you open and fill your insides with his cum. The big bad tiefling defiling the pretty human, pouring sin down your throat.

"Have you tasted a tiefling's cum before? Would you like to?"

No.

Inviting him to your house, allowing him to see you in your comfortable clothes, complimenting his horns.

Being such a fucking tease.

Heats build up inside him. Putting a small pillow on his lap to cover the growing tent between his legs as he scoots over to you.

"You've never had a cock littered with bumps before, You've never been properly fucked so just bend over and-"

Shut it.

Behave. Act normal. He can't fuck up another date with a human.

...maybe if he starts innocently? You don't know much about tieflings so he can always play that card.

Ardour's tail leaves his leg as it wraps the other way towards you, settling on your lap and brushing against your stomach.

The strange sensation makes you glance down at it, a questioning look on your face.

"Oh sorry!" He fiegns ignorance, "it does that sometimes, it has a mind of its own."

He watches as you take in the false information he's feeding you at face value. Smiling and saying it's no problem.

"Is it okay if I-" your other hand moves towards your lap.

"You can touch it." Ardour immediately replies, "I don't mind. You can even kiss and lick it, shove it down your throat to get it wet enough so I can use it to open up your tight-"

Stop.

"And my horns too, if you want. I saw you glancing at them" he says instead.

You beam at his words, delightful surprise in your eyes before a conflict of embarrassment washes over you at realising he noticed your glances.

Still, you nod eagerly.

The sight of you has his heart in a vice grip. Is curiosity really this adorably intense in humans?

He scoots even closer, his knee brushing against your own as he lowers his head to present his horns. His position's slight resemblance of a bow doesn't go past him as his his sharp pointy teeth bite his lower lip to suppress a whimper.

A tiefling bowing to a human. It feels fitting in a way. It was your race that was slutty brave enough to get fucked mate with demons, gracing the tieflings with the gift of existence.

Worshipping the humans is a thought many races would scoff over. The notion by itself is enough to send a high elf into hysterical laughter.

Yet all he can think about is kissing up your feet, licking your ankle, gnawing at your thigh with his razorsharp teeth until you have mercy and spread your legs open.

"Do I have to beg to sleep with you? Do you want to see me kneeling on the floor pleading for your permission to touch myself?"

He can't make up his mind if he wants to worship you or put you in your place the same way his demon ancestors must have.

Just what kind of humiliating acts the humans submitted to in order for the demons to agree to breed them? What kind of degradation did the human kind endure while being stuffed with burning hot cum or being milked for all of their worth?

...do you miss it? Do you want him to replicate it?

"I'll ruin you to anyone else. Fuck all of your holes and plug the cum inside with my tail. Make you nothing but a pathetic fleshlight for me to use and squeeze like my ancestors have always done to your kind, human."

His thoughts are cut short by the feeling of your finger tracing up his horn, testing the waters.

The feeling is electric on his end. His teeth dig deeper into his lips as he suppresses any sounds threatening to slip out.

"Please touch me. Fuck please please, I want you to pull them. Pull my horns. I don't care if you break them. Just don't stop."

Bit by bit, your touches get bolder, abandoning the remote to wrap both of your hands around his horns. Stroking up and down, brushing the tips and experimenting with this new texture to your heart's content.

This new position presses your chest against his face without realising it. Ardour feels his hands shaking as he stares in front of him.

The urge to touch you, squeeze you and bite you. Mark every corner of your body until you can't look in a mirror without the ghost feeling of his touches hovering over your skin.

This was his plan. This was his doing, so why does it feel like he bit off more than he can chew?

A throbbing between his legs, his cock painfully hard. His claws tear through the pillow on his lap as he drags his fingers dow, imagining it's your plush thighs instead.

"That weird elf wasn't kidding when he said the human body was made for nothing but sex." His hand slips underneath the pillow to press against his aching cock for any sort of relief. "You're not even aware of how much of a slut you're being, are you? That's how in your nature it is."

Ah.

His eyes open wide in panic as your hands abruptly stop touching his horns.

He said that out loud.

#♡smut #♡dark content #♡creepy tiefling #♡modern au human kink #♡Ardour #♡human reader #♡human kink #human kink #dnd human kink #human x tiefling #creepy tiefling

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sebastianswallows · 2 years ago

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Ardour — Chapter 3

— PAIRING: professor!Tom Riddle x Reader

— SYNOPSIS: Tom got what he wanted, he is the Hogwarts DADA professor. It's more tedious than he envisioned, but his day gets interesting when his favourite student comes to him for help after she is hit with a strong aphrodisiac.

— WARNINGS: smut, angst, hurt/cumfort, cunnilingus, Tom spilling in his pants like a teenager, sweet dirty talk, age difference (she is in 7th year), sex pollen, hints of incest (reader is a distant relative Gaunt, to give Tom something to find palatable about her, ok? I know, but... just go with it)

— WORDCOUNT: 5.2k

— A/N: Welcome to the last chapter of this fic! It is just 5k words of Professor Tom pleasuring his favourite student with his mouth. Enjoy! ✨

Tom gripped her by the waist and pushed her higher on the sofa. Her neck rested on the armrest now and she was perhaps less comfortable than before, but it gave Tom the space he needed. He went back to his tie and yanked it off, then his hands moved to unbutton his shirt, all the while keeping his eyes on her. Adara was breathing in a tired sort of way, somewhat stilted and pained. Tom, however, had begun to pant a little more as he faced the reality of what he was about to do — what he had chosen to do.

“Don’t worry, Miss Gaunt,” he said quietly to his student, adopting the most comforting voice he was capable of. “I’ll make you all better… I’ll clean you up. I…”

He, what? He wasn’t sure if he could say it.

And as he hastily unbuttoned his shirt, shoving one small irritating button out of its hole at a time, Adara looked at him with such open vulnerability… Her eyes did more to expose her than her parted legs and raised-up ruffled skirt. There was nothing hidden there, nothing left he hadn’t seen, hadn’t felt, hadn’t touched… His mind brushed against the surface of her own and shivered, recoiling almost, at the unfamiliar sense of trust.

She trusted him completely. And for some reason, Tom found that quite beautiful. It was a rare thing to see, especially from one of his students, and he couldn’t help but feel proud, maybe even a bit sentimental… Adara has allowed him to put his hands on the most intimate parts of her body, to see her and caress her and soothe her little heart — she was allowing him to take care of her, which was something he’d never really had. He’d always had to fight for everything he got, whether it was through coercion or lies or pure raw magical power, and yet here she was, opening herself up to him completely... When else would this ever happen again? Would it ever happen again?

Tom was lost in thought as he looked into her eyes, having almost forgotten about that small treasure between her legs — the chains of silvery essence that dripped from her, the velvet folds that pulsed and clenched, and the little pearl that gently throbbed above them… Almost.

With a hurried movement, he pulled his shirt off, yanked it angrily off his arm when it got tangled for a second, and threw it to the floor. With a bit more calm, he placed his hands over Adara’s thighs and caressed her skin as he leaned forward. His eyes fixed on her tired ones, Tom eased himself back a little, making himself comfortable, and gentled the girl open.

“Professor,” she whined, her neck tilting away from the hard armrest to rest against the back of the sofa.

“Shhh… It’s almost over,” he whispered. “I just need to… clean you up a bit… Will you let me?”

“B-but…”

“You said it still hurts, didn’t you?” he asked with a cocked brow.

“Y-yes, but why —”

“Let me do this,” he whispered hotly, sounding somewhat impatient now, and he knew how that tone of voice frightened her. It was almost as if she were back in his classroom, talking back to him, being argumentative and disobedient… She quieted immediately.

He smiled boyishly at her frightened little frown, but he had no intention of really hurting her, or even of speaking to her harshly. If she only knew the caring he felt for her deep down… She was his student, his best, his favourite, and beyond satisfying this newly acknowledged hunger for her, Tom wanted to see her healthy, happy, and safe. And the fact that they were, however distantly, related, both belonging to the doomed and disgraced House of Gaunt, only soothed his callousness further. The attention and affection that he’d always longed for, for himself, he could at least give to her… It was the closest he could come to feeling it himself — although by this point Tom was certain that, should he ask, she’d gladly reciprocate. At least, he hoped so.

She looked at him with a warm and tender gaze while her breathing grew more frantic. Seeing her professor’s lean, pale body was probably the last thing she ever expected, even in such a situation… He’d always been so proper, so composed, faultless as an unspoiled field of snow, cold purity as far as the eye could see — though clothed, consistently, in black. And so she blushed now not only from her own situation and the lingering effects of the Ardour Fly, but also from just seeing his naked arms — lean but fit, a young scholar’s arms — and when she dared trail her gaze upwards, his shoulders, his sharp clavicles, his chest… Pale and broad and smooth and dusted lightly with little black hairs that contrasted so sweetly with those two tight buds of dusky pink. On the side of his torso, on the right, she could spot a couple of little moles too. She wanted to kiss them, and closed her eyes tightly as the desire struck. She felt more shy at seeing him than she did at being seen herself.

Tom kissed the top of her knee and held his lips there for a moment, closing his eyes as he breathed in her skin. She winced, and by his waist, he could feel her feet flexing.

“Professor,” she whispered — not asking for anything, not asking anything, just saying it… acknowledging him, letting him know how thoroughly he consumed her senses.

He smiled and moved his lips lower, to the inside of her knee and her inner thigh and lower, more and more quickly, until his mouth was right above her tense stomach.

“How do you feel?” he asked quietly, his eyes still closed.

“Hurts,” she whined, her hips twisting.

He gripped her waist and held her still while he lowered his mouth and kissed the smooth skin there. “I’ll make it better,” he spoke against her lower tummy. “I promise.”

He didn’t know where that came from. Tom never promised anything, not sincerely anyway… But he meant it this time.

She whined at the feeling of his lips right above her aching womb, and gasped when he went lower. He kissed the softness of her mound, her girlish curls tickling his nose, and then his lips moved to her inner thigh, right next to where she hurt the most…

It was completely damp, slathered in her essence and her sweat, spread out in careless little splashes from when his fingers worked on her before. He kissed it off of her, the warm breath drying her a bit, before he moved to the other thigh and did the same. Above, he could hear Adara whimpering, wincing in discomfort… This didn’t soothe her needs, and if anything it only teased her further, but Tom wanted to do it, he wanted to lick her clean, just like he promised.

“Be still now,” he said in an oddly gentle voice. “This is good for you… This is what you need. I need to clean you, right here...”

Of course, why he had to do it with his mouth was something he didn’t feel like explaining right now, and Adara was too shy to ask — and too aroused, if she was being honest.

The sight of her favourite Professor’s dark head held between her thighs, his elegant pale hands holding her hips down in something that was half-clutch half-caress, his broad lean masculine back, and the feeling of his mouth lavishing her skin, it took her out of her mind, out of her body, and up into a vaporous experience where she was keenly aware only of herself, and of him… The rest of the world no longer existed. She felt herself being drunk up by him, mind and soul, just like her skin was nipped between his lips.

She felt like she was relaxed and tense all at once, her hips canting desperately into him, her legs trembling by his flexing jaw, hands restless as they switched from gripping the sides of the sofa to fisting at her chest…

And then he gripped her hips more tightly, pinning her down, and his kisses travelled inward.

Professor Riddle said nothing as he trailed his lips toward her folds, but he could feel himself breathing more deeply, and distantly was aware of his student breathing harder too. In the quiet of his office, he could almost hear her heart thumping — or was that his own?

She smelled more sweetly than he thought, and was so warm, still so dangerously warm from the effects of the Ardour fly… and throbbing. Beneath his desire to taste her, he pitied her. How much pain she must’ve still been in…

“There, there,” he gentled her, his whisper seeping into her core.

“Sir…?!”

“Don’t be scared,” he smiled, looking up into her eyes and swallowing the knot in his throat, swallowing the scent and taste of her that had gathered on his tongue. “I’ll take care of you, my good girl…”

And with a deep inhale, Tom stretched up a bit and placed a second kiss on the top of her soft mound. He lingered there a second longer than he meant to, distracting her a little while he spread her legs the slightest bit. Then, he leaned back down and closed his eyes, his head tilting slightly, and pressed a kiss right at her core. She was sweet, but beneath that, there was the lingering taste of Ardour Fly, like ginger and cinnamon.

He kissed her swollen folds as if they were her lips. It was loving and gentle, a caress, a pampering of her most sensitive and delicate parts... She moaned in a complaining sort of way, her thighs tensing, tickling his cheeks, but he wouldn’t move any faster. He was going to help her, clean her of the Ardour Fly, but he wanted to do it on his terms.

He took his time with her, his mouth teasingly still against her while her sensitive parts throbbed. They moved in their rhythmic way against his lips as if they were trying to kiss him back, to tease and tempt and coax him to pay them more attention… Tom smiled against her, and he gave it. His lips slowly opened wider, kissing her more fully, then wider still, trying to see if he could pull her fully in his mouth. He moaned against her taste and at the trickle of wetness she surrendered to him.

Holding his mouth open against her, he let his tongue slip out and briefly touched her little hole. Tom felt her jump and heard her gasp at the sensation, and he couldn’t help but chuckle smugly.

“Professor!” she moaned, her back stretching in a tense arch as her head fell limply back.

“Be good for me,” he groaned against her. “Keep your legs spread while I continue your treatment…”

She whined in complaint, but he felt her legs relaxing slightly, drawing further from his cheeks.

Tom sighed with satisfaction and eased his hands away from her hips, down the inside of her thighs, forcing her to spread a little wider as his face settled more closely to her core. With a greedy suckle, he pulled her lower lips into his mouth and held them there, letting their warmth sink into him. The taste of her flushed skin coated his tongue until there was no other taste in the world he could remember, and lightly, so lightly he was not sure she even felt it, he let his tongue slip to her little hole again.

But she did feel it — he could tell that she was shaking, her breaths coming in panicked panting heaves as he licked more and more, deeper into the place where she was hurting.

Without even a thought to the Ardour Fly anymore, Tom swallowed her down ravenously before he pulled his head away, letting her folds gradually slip from out of the tight hold of his mouth, and then lowered himself again, this time to lap on either side of them. He moaned as he cleaned up his good girl, drinking in every bit of her essence he could find, every drop of sweat, everything that wasn’t the darling taste of her skin.

Carefully, his hands went lower down her thighs until he could pull her lips apart with his thumbs, exposing her fully to him. Tom looked down at the maddening, his cheek resting on her right thigh. She was still so red… Her hole clutched at nothing and her little pearl throbbed.

He knew the feeling, or some equivalent to it, as in his trousers he felt ready to burst out of his skin. The whole of his loins felt wet with sweat and his pathetic seepings of desire. His manhood was fully hard and contorted in the tight confines of his clothes. Surreptitiously, he let himself rest more firmly down on it as he lay on his front on the sofa, groaning to himself.

Keeping her spread open, Tom leaned forward again and lapped right at her entrance.

“Aaaaahhh!”

“Still hurts, doesn’t it?” he sighed, speaking quietly. “It still needs something…”

“P-p-prof—”

“You’ve got a lot of that wicked powder here, don’t you?” asked Tom, looking up at her flushed face with a twinkle in his eye. “In this little place right here…?”

She bit her lip and nodded, forcing her legs to relax around her professor once more.

Tom smiled and licked his lips, then focused his dark eyes on her core again and spread her wider. It made the throbbing of her nub all the more visible as its little head was pulled out of its protective hood. The entrance to her body opened the slightest bit, a fat little dollop already waiting to flow out of it from the other side. Tom groaned and leaned in again.

The air around them was filled with sticky sounds, the clinks of wet kisses and the greedy lap-lap-lapping of his tongue. She moaned loudly, and Tom moaned with her. Adara blushed for a moment, thinking that he might have been making fun of her — but when she caught her breath and listened, she thought he sounded, if anything, hungry… and pained…

“Professor,” she sighed, one brave hand going down to cover his broad palm over her inner thigh.

Tom caressed her little fingers with his thumb while he kept tending to her with his mouth. He was still trying to remain gentle and cautious with his student, but the longer it went on, the harder it was for him to contain his own need. Her essence would not stop flowing, and he wanted all of it, wanted to taste every drop of it, wanted to drink from her until she fainted in his arms... He took a moment to look up at Adara's face, taking in her expression of confused pleasure, and then he quickly lowered his head again.

“Aaaahhh!” she gasped, her back arching sharply.

"Shhh... shhh... I need to focus, my dearest one," he whispered. "I promised to take care of you… Let me do it. Let me care for you..."

He was still being slow and cautious with her, and very, very thorough, leaving no bit of her skin without a suckling kiss or lick, but his groans had taken on a rougher, firmer tone. She could tell that he meant it, and she did her best to relax and let him do what needed to be done. She wanted him to take care of her, to make everything right, and yet the sensations she was feeling were becoming unbearably intense.

This was nothing like his fingers, which had been so firm, so sure, so precise in a devastating way… No, this was all fluid flesh and velvet dragging on velvet and the strong smooth muscle of his tongue, an organ she so often respected when he spoke during class, was driving her insane in a way she never thought possible. The whole sensation was like being made love to by a sentient body of water, or a flowing chaotic thing like a flame made flesh, and yet it was like none of those things… It was like nothing else in the world, and all she could do was stay still, be good for him, spread her legs, and let him hear her pleasured moans.

“Sir, that’s… It feels like… like…”

“Like what?”

The question came out slightly muffled, as Tom had let her folds slip from between his thumbs to come down back around his own. His mouth was buried as deeply into her slit as it could be.

“Aaah… it… mmm… there’s…”

“What is it?” asked Tom, breathing hotly over her clenching little hole. “What more do you need?”

His dark eyes trailed up to hers, and although her mouth was slack and her head hung dazedly to the side, he could read the desire in her eyes… His wet and plush lips, slightly bruised from how much he had worked on her, curled into a tilted smile.

“Oh I know what my good girl needs,” he chuckled.

His thumbs pressed softly into her folds, testing their plushness, making a bit more wetness seep out in a slick trickle down her slit.

“This little part wants some attention too, doesn’t it?” he asked as he let his breath fan over her nub. “I’m right. No? Aren’t I right? But… that wouldn’t do,” he teased. “I’m here to clean you up, my favourite, not to give pleasure to your naughtiest parts…”

She whined like a kitten denied of her treat, and Tom had to chuckle at it.

He brought his lips to the hard little point, closing them around the edges of its protective hood in a soft kiss, light and careful and affectionate. His hips ground against the sofa once again, easing the pain in his groin, and he groaned against her. Above, she gave a shivering moan at the sensation, and then he fixed his lips around her pearl more firmly.

He sucked it between his lips with almost punishing greed, causing her legs to shiver and wild little rasps to leave her throat as she thrashed helplessly. Without even thinking, Tom pressed his tongue forward and, as his suckles pulled the tip more firmly out of its hood, he rubbed the very tip of his tongue against it.

“Aaaaah— Professor! Too much, too much!”

Tom’s smirk tickled her right thigh, and he kept tending to her, nursing on her most delicate point. Her hips, in an effort to shake him off, moved up and down as much as he allowed her, but it was no use. He held her hip firmly with his left hand and with his right he held her thigh, letting his thumb rest against her hole. The canting of her hips made her rub the tight entrance on it, dripping against and around it, while Tom kept his lips stubbornly on her nub.

“Sir! Professor! Please!”

Her begging only made him more hungry. Tom heaved and frowned, his kiss getting messier, his mouth opening occasionally around as much of her as he could grasp between his lips, before closing on her nub again and pulling on it tightly. When he had it fixed and at his mercy, his tongue flicked it up and down, making it as erect as it could be…

Her pleas were a mess of sounds by now, and her hands gripped her throat and hair as she arched. The office became filled with her cries of pleasure and the damp sounds made by his mouth.

When he began to feel more loving, he relaxed his lips around her, cradling her sensitive flesh within him. He let his tongue drag slowly, slowly up from her flexing hole up the underside of her pearl, and ending the journey with a suckling kiss. He did it again, encouraged by her long and wailing moan, letting his tongue linger on the very underside of it this time, curling right beneath her tender tip, pressing against it for as long as he could while she thrashed and cried, and when he could no longer hold it, he closed in with another kiss.

Tom tilted his head to the left and he kissed her nub as gently as he’d kissed her hole before, just like he wanted to kiss her mouth. It was a slow and deep caress coloured by his own deep moans.

Slowly, and then all of a sudden, he felt her thighs begin to shake. Her whimpers were sounding stilted, muffled, and when he looked up Tom saw that she was covering her mouth with both hands. Her fingers were wet with tears and her eyes were tightly shut. Her whole body shivered, but especially her stomach and her legs. With a fresh rush of greed, he moved his hands around her waist in such a way that tilted her lightly upwards.

He held her like a chalice, and holding her so bowed his head to deliver a long, lingering, deep kiss. Her shivers slightly abated, as if her every muscle held its breath in sympathy with him.

His loins meanwhile were pressed against the sofa almost painfully and he held himself still while he swallowed everything she had to give — her wetness that wouldn’t stop gushing, her moans that escaped even the hard clutch of her hands, and the sweet, sweet, taste of her skin completely rid of the sharpness of the Ardour Fly — and then in a sharp throb that made Tom wail into her girlhood, he felt himself pulse once, twice, and release into his pants. It was a long and arduous spill that left him feeling muggy, his skin both hot and cold with the feel of his essence finally released from his long-suffering sac. Still, humiliating as it was for him to reach the peak of pleasure from just a loving kiss of her entrance, it was better this way — the aphrodisiac, as he lapped it off of her, had begun for several moments to affect him as well, but satisfying his desires sated it.

He breathed in and out slowly as he calmed himself, his eyes closed, and he kept his mouth on her. With his tongue, he lapped from her seeping hole, so ravenous and lonely, all the way to her hard little point that he’d tortured with too much attention. It made her jump again.

“Prof—!”

“That’s it, good girl,” he moaned, barely lifting his mouth from her.

“Aaah! Oh, that’s…!”

“Good girl, do it, do it for me…”

She could scarcely hear what he was saying beneath her frantic moans, but somehow, she felt it.

Tom switched from lapping at her to pulling her with harsh suckles into his mouth, then licking her again, and again, and on and on — until she gave one high scream and clenched.

“Aaaaahhh! Aaah… aaahh… P-profes— Sir—”

“There you go, my favourite,” he moaned, sighing against her painfully tight entrance. His mouth seemed constantly undecided between kissing it as it throbbed and kissing her swollen folds and her nub and every other little spot between them. He lavished all the love he had on her, scraping every corner of his withered heart for a sliver of something good and pure to offer her — and, for an instant, he felt worthy enough to do it.

“There’s my good girl… So nice,” he said before another kiss, “so sweet… Does that feel good?” he asked gently. “Hm? Did that make you feel good?”

Adara groaned and shivered as her body lost all tension and all strength, falling to rest in a puddle on the sofa. This last one took every last ounce of strength in her… But at least now, the Ardour Fly was sated. She could feel its effects draining from her with every lingering pulsation of her girlhood, and her every next breath was one of deep relief.

“Sir,” she whispered tremblingly, “that’s… yes, so… so good,” she moaned, her eyes looking hazily down at her professor.

Tom smiled a genuinely happy, proud smile. To ease her down, and soothe the discomfort from his own embarrassingly soaked loins, he indulged and nursed himself a moment longer on her pearl. He swallowed mouthfuls of her taste until she whined a bit louder, clearly too sensitive to take it anymore. He sighed, and let her go. His hands eased off her hips, grip loosening into a caress, a petting of her sides that trailed up and down from her thighs to her ribs.

“How do you feel?” he asked, gazing down at her with somewhat of a dazed look too. Raising his front off the sofa, he felt the sweat that had gathered on his chest begin to cool.

“Good,” she whispered, looking up at him sleepily.

“Good,” he said, smiling a little brighter.

He cupped her torso with his left palm and reached his right hand up to her face, wiping a few stray tears away with his thumb. Her legs were limp around him and her face was still blooming with a blush, but aside from that and the lethargy of after-pleasure, she seemed completely healthy… Back to normal.

And of course, with that came the inevitable humiliation. Adara looked down at herself and clumsily tried to cover her waist again with her skirt, slipping shy looks up at her professor. Tom chuckled and busied himself brushing a few stray hairs from her forehead.

“I, erm… T-thank you, s-sir, it’s…”

She felt so ashamed so could nearly cry. Professor Riddle didn’t seem to mind, but he sympathised with her anyway.

“I’ll… I’ll let you catch your breath,” he said quietly, easing himself off the sofa and wiping her wetness off his chin.

“T-thanks,” she said, both hands tucking the skirt between her thighs and staying there. With a groan, she curled her knees up and let her legs fall to the right, while her chest moved up and down with panting breaths that eased and eased the more her body cooled.

She looked up at the ceiling, then chanced a glance at her professor. He had picked up his shirt off the floor and drowsily threw it back on. She caught the barest hint of sweat pooled in the lower dip of his back before it was covered up, and her face burned again. As if feeling her gaze, Tom looked over his shoulder, catching her right before she turned her head away again.

“I have to go to my quarters and… wash up a bit,” he said. What he meant was that he intended to get a new change of clothes and maybe squeeze his manhood of whatever was left, because a quick rub against the cushions had been perfunctory at best. “But before that, I will get you a glass of water. You must be quite… dehydrated,” he smirked, his fixed on hers before he walked away to do just that.

With less of a steady hand than he wished, Tom poured her a tall glass of water and came back to kneel by the sofa and help her drink it. She grumbled, but he insisted on holding her head steady while he tipped the glass to her lips. Nobody had ever really done a thing like that for him, he realised now — perhaps only a nurse in the infirmary when he caught a cold in his second year. Maybe for that reason he especially liked doing it for her.

“Do you feel well now?” he asked with a concerned frown, all hints of teasing gone. He placed the back of his hand lightly to her forehead.

“Yes,” she said, looking up into her professor’s dark eyes. “T-thank you. That was… What you did w-was —”

“Not as great of a sacrifice as you’re trying to tell me it was,” he said with a cool smile. “Don’t concern yourself with it, Miss Gaunt. We won’t think of it again.” And he knew he didn’t have to tell her not to speak of it, especially. “In fact, if you want, I can… I could…”

“What?” she asked, curious to see her professor stutter for once.

Tom sighed and looked with quiet resolve into her eyes. “I could Obliviate you.”

“No!” she said, somewhat too quickly. “No… I don’t want you to.”

He seemed surprised, but happy with her answer. “Very well,” he smiled, her thumb caressing her cheek once more, just briefly, just for a moment — what a brave girl his favourite was, what a darling delicious girl — and then he caught himself and took his hand away as if he had no right to touch her, as if he hadn’t been touching her for more than an hour.

“When you’re feeling up to it, I suggest you get back to your dorm,” he said, getting briskly up again. “You’ve already missed dinner.”

Adara nodded and drank a bit more water, and waited for him to back to his quarters for that ‘washing up’ he mentioned before she gathered the courage to try to sit. It was a bit of a challenge. All her muscles ached, their energy burned away in so many shivers, but gradually she could stand up again.

With one last blush, she picked up her discarded panties from the floor, where they had become a bit entwined with her professor’s tie.

She put them on, revoltingly wet as they were, righted her hair and her clothes as much as she could, and walked to the desk to where Professor Riddle now stood, drinking a glass of firewhisky.

“I’ll leave now, Sir,” she said to his back. “T-thank you again, I—”

“Don’t mention it,” he said.

“I… I’d like to repay you one day, if I can,” she offered, looking at his ruffled dark hair with pleading eyes.

“Don’t,” he chuckled.

He put his glass down with a sigh and turned around. He looked at her… seeming not at all angry, and not remotely as cold as he usually was. In fact, the only thing he looked like was tired… and a little fond.

“You have nothing to thank me for,” he smiled. “I just hope… I just hope you’re alright now.”

She nodded.

Tom looked like he wanted to say something, something more, more than this tepid formality he forced himself to exchange with her. He wanted to tell her she was beautiful, he wanted to tell her they shared the same blood, he wanted to tell her he would like nothing better than to be her escape from her horrible side of the family, to offer her comfort, to offer her care… But as much of a selfish, needy, villain that he was, he wasn’t that.

“I’ll see you in class next week.”

And that would be the end of it.

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