#m tom riddle

[unravellingsilencehq]

“Oh, Merlin, tell me, does THE PRINCE get what he deserves?” He is in THE DEATH EATERS & is CLOSED to finding out. 

— he walks through the world as ;

name → lucius malfoy pronouns → he/him identification → cis male year of birth → september 1953 - september 1954 face claim → joe alwyn blood status → pure-blood sexual orientation → sexually fluid occupation → socialite amongst high society in wizarding london   future information → husband of narcissa black, father of draco malfoy

— he is best described as ;

The FINER things in LIFE. He is a RICH set of ROBES, unwrapped from a SCENTED box & the LAVISH SMILE of someone who knows how to pose for the PRESS. He is CALCULATED & SCULPTED to SEEM TRUSTWORTHY. The scent of CHAMPAGNE and COLOGNE from PARIS, he is everything you DREAM of becoming, with a SLIGHT UNEASE he may be too PERFECT to even be REAL.

— his story starts with ;

tw: death

A proud and pampered young man who believes the world owes him everything and more, Lucius Malfoy is known for prowess, powers of persuasion and pompous attitude. The only child of Abraxas and Sulpicia Malfoy, Lucius was raised by his father, in the lap of luxury. Spoiled, Lucius was told every day that he would one day be the head of their family and the owner of Malfoy Manor. Born an only child, Lucius had no siblings to spar with but instead has cousins, LACHESIS MALFOY [cousin] and CALLIOPE MALFOY [cousin], the children of his father’s younger and only brother Ignatius Malfoy. The Malfoy’s considered themselves a noble house, with great power in the community and the story of his father and uncle working in tandem with other families in The Sacred Twenty-Eight to topple a muggle-born Minister for Magic, who had no business being in office. It was his father’s greatest wish that Lucius have a similar relationship with his cousins that his father had with his uncle, but for as long as he could remember, he found them both to be difficult. 

Lachesis was the most competitive and unpleasant person he had ever had the displeasure of being around. With a sly smirk as they got him into trouble at every turn and later convinced Calliope to back up their story. His cousins were only interested in having the approval of the elder members of their family and their relationship with Lucius was evidently not of importance. Thus sparked the feud between the Malfoys that only deepened after the passing of his father in his final year at Hogwarts. Beforehand, Lucius had seen himself as a socialite above all else, the person everyone wanted at their party where he could flirt with girls and say impressive things. He knew his friends viewed him as vapid but he didn’t care. With his uncle Ignatius now head of the family, Lucius began feeling the pressure to live up to his father’s expectation and quickly got to work strengthening his bonds with powerful people. 

Content with his friendships with DECIUS FLINT [best friend], RODOLPHUS LESTRANGE [close friend], ARISTAEUS GREENGRASS [close friend] CORDELIA DAVIS [former friend] and NATALIA SIMINOVA [close friend]; Lucius began setting his sights on more powerful friends, striking relationships with BELLATRIX BLACK [close friend], EVAN ROSIER [close friend], CASTOR WILKES [close friend] and ALFHILD ROWLE [close friend]. They were not of great interest to Lucius personality wise, often finding them brutish than his more refined friends, but he relished any opportunity to put Lachesis in their place and making connections with their friends was an important way of solidifying he was the Malfoy they would come to. A model student, Lucius was a prefect, a member of the Slug Club and a capable Seeker of the Slytherin Quidditch team. Upon graduating he was enthusiastic about leaving his life at Hogwarts behind and having time outside the walls to get a leg up in the political world and irritate his cousin, but Bellatrix Black had other ideas. 

Only a few years his senior, Bellatrix was known to be travelling with no plans of settling down, but those who were somewhat close to her knew that her desire to see the world outside of London cloaked the real reason she was missing. A dark wizard had whispered in her ear and asked her to collect followers she thought would be worthy of a seat at his table in the new world he was forging. From a line of purists happy to unseat a sitting Minister, Lucius was not surprised when one evening she told him of THE DARK LORD [leader] over dinner and his vested interest in Lucius. Naturally, Lucius graciously accepted Bellatrix’s invitation to meet the man causing such a stir in their city and was surprised at who he was greeted with. A handsome man, he looked just as much human as he and Bellatrix, but even in their brief meeting Lucius understood the power he wielded. Due to the Malfoy family’s political association, Lucius thought he could best serve The Dark Lord’s interest by gaining the ear of those in positions of power and quietly worked hard to distance himself from the pompous purist image people held of him. 

Throwing lavache balls at Malfoy Manor, he began reaching out to the likes of TIBERIUS MCLAGGEN [close friend/person of interest], BILLIUS WEASLEY [close friend/person of interest] HARRISON BAGNOLD [close friend/person of interest] AUGUSTUS ROOKWOOD [close friend/person of interest] and ISOLDE CROUCH [close friend/person of interest]. It was strange watching blood traitors and known do-gooders rubbing shoulders with The Sacred Twenty-Eight, knowing what their plans were but he took something of a private delight in that. One of the most powerful men in Wizarding London, he has a kind word on the lips of anyone at The Daily Prophet to The Minister of Magic herself. Lucius had a very clear idea of how The Dark Lord’s rise to power would go, a strong and steady rise as they slowly manipulated influential people to join their cause. Isolde was his primary focus, a Crouch she was well connected, with a sharp mind that would be useful to them. When it became clear that The Death Eaters thought the best route to power was violence Lucius wasn’t pleased and the death of the Minister’s son BOOKER BAGNOLD [former acquaintance] onwards has been nothing but a headache for him. 

Lucius had worked hard for the world to see him in the exact way he wanted and as rumours began to swirl about people he was associated with and his direct involvement in Booker’s death, he wasn’t happy. Thinking on his feet, Lucius made a beeline for ANDRESSA PARKINSON [partner]. A famed Witch Weekly model he attempted to cover up any bad press with dating rumours, which worked to his advantage. A beautiful witch, Lucius enjoyed having her on his arm at parties and was impressed with how she handled herself with his associates. Lucius wasn’t quite sure if he loved Andressa, but he admired her greatly, which was about as much emotion he’d mustered in years. A part of Lucius always wondered if she was the right one. A celebrity and now a bar owner, he sometimes felt she suited his pretend life rather than his real one, but was happy to be proven wrong. For now Lucius is focused on the task at hand, keeping his name in the press in a positive light, stopping the Bagnolds from predicting the storm that’s heading their way and getting one of Wizarding Britain's biggest families to see things from their point of view. 

— he is a LEVEL 6 WIZARD & readied for war ;

[deadghosy]

“𝐌𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐝𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫” 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐒𝐥𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐬 ||𝐅𝐓𝐌!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Warning: transphobia from the parents, it’s fluff I swear.

A/N: the trend may have died and I’m late to it. But it popped up on my feed and I couldn’t help but do this 🫶🏾

Tom Riddle

Honestly he stayed quiet. So quiet it was unsettling how he stared at you up and down and walked past you

But when he talked to you, it was different from the way you thought he would talk to you.

He’s actually a respectable gentleman and asked for YOUR name. Not the name your parents told him

So he just nodded and kept track of how you are as a person

Honestly he may be confused but he has the spirit

Mattheo Riddle

What’s that? You use to be a girl/you are a woman? Well he doesn’t see one at the slightest

All he sees is the most handsome man he ever seen in his damn life

Literally raises his hand towards your parents at the dinner for them to shush as he starts to work his charms on you

Literally makes you feel in your own little world

He would glare at your parents and remind them that he is the son of the dark lord

So they can shut the fuck up and let him at least talk to the most amazing man he just met

Draco Malfoy

“All I see is a man.”

He’s so blunt with it 😭 he was supportive of you before knowing you were trans and if made your heart swell because he looked so serious

His father knew what you were but stayed quiet.

Though even if your parents tried to dead name you and try to bring up your past.

He’s not listening a single bit

Blaise Zabini

Honestly ignores your parents talking about how you look and how your past self was

He doesn’t care. Because right now he is memorized by you.

He’s shaking your hand and smiling asking for your name and maybe number

You can’t help but like him as he is smooth with his lines

And it hits off with you two talking about each other

Talking to you feels good without your shitty parents running their mouth about their daughter son.

Theodore Nott

I feel like he would be the most confused of them all since I headcannon he didn’t really much understand the English language before Hogwarts but got better… he still has slight trouble with the culture and traditions.

But when your parents had deadnamed you and called you their daughter. Thoughts ran through Theodore’s head

“Daughter?? [deadname]?? Man? He’s? She’s? She is a he?”

Just so confused to the point he said out loud that you are a boy to which you laughed at how confused he looked

Either way you two spent time getting to know each other and duo I explained to him about how you felt in the wrong body and how you felt more comfortable for who you are

You helped him see a lot more things in different perspectives

Lorenzo Berkshire

He just awkwardly stood there at the meeting when your family introduced you in the way that made you seem uncomfortable.

So he talked to you one on one and started to know more about you

When you told him about your transition, he was very intrigued and asked even more about you

He made you feel like your own person as he just laughs at your own joke.

He could sense your parents shaking their head at how their SON was acting.

But you two didn’t care. It was only your world and his.

[profoundmakerdreamerss-blog]

Guys, this is Tomarry to me; and you can't say otherwise because I can't hear you LALALALA —

[snapesmorningcoffee]

Tom Riddle, receiving the Award for Outstanding Service to the School after killing Moaning Myrtle and pinning the murder on Hagrid:

[snetofed]

Matty i love!!!

his fingers traced patterns on your back, his other hand cupping your cheek. mattheo couldn't stop the smile from spreading on his face or the soft red blush that was on his cheeks. he was in heaven, surrounded by you and your warmth. he sighed softly, pressing his forehead against yours, his

mattheo felt like he was on cloud nine, his heart bursting with warmth and love as he sat there with you in his arms. he kissed the top of your head, his embrace becoming more snug and secure

You are my favorite girl, my confidant, my lover, my everything. There is no one else in this world that I care about as much as you. I love you with all my heart and soul, you are my heaven, my earth and my everything.

And the funny thing is that we love each other, we hate each other, we don't like each other, we hurt each other, we lie to each other, but at the end of the day you are, you are and you will always be my home.

And at the end of the day I can assure you with my life that I love you

[coquettexnightz]

- 𝑲𝒊𝒏𝒌𝒕𝒐𝒃𝒆𝒓 𝑳𝒊𝒔𝒕 -

• Day 12; Somnophilia: Stalker Season, Norman Reedus.

• Day 13; Menophilia: Smell It A Mile Away, Marko ( The Lost Boys )

• Day 14; Incest: Bossy Big Brother, Michael Gray ( Peaky Blinders )

• Day 15; Noncon: Babysitter Terror, Billy Hargrove ( Stranger Things )

• Day 16; Public: Concert Special, Slash ( Guns N’ Roses )

• Day 17; Vore: Virgins Taste Best, Marko ( The Lost Boys )

• Day 18; Spanking: Specifically Told, Alfie Solomons ( The Peaky Blinders )

• Day 19; Uniform: Short Skirt, Tall Socks, John Shelby ( The Peaky Blinders )

• Day 20; Step Siblings: Deceiving Big Brother, Henry Bowers ( IT Chap. 1 )

• Day 21; Tickling: “Now, Go To Bed.”, Alfie Solomon’s ( The Peaky Blinders )

• Day 22; Masturbation: Morning Welcome, Aemond Targaryen ( The House Of The Dragon )

• Day 23; Deep Throating: To The Wall, Dave Mustaine ( Megadeth )

• Day 24; Taking Advantage: The Stupid Cheerleader, Axl Rose ( Guns N’ Roses )

• Day 25; Pregnancy: Growing Inside Right Now, Tom Riddle ( Harry Potter Franchise )

• Day 26; Grooming: Stolen Child, Alfie Solomons ( The Peaky Blinders )

• Day 27; S&M: Corruption From The Dirty Boy, Joaquin Phoenix

• Day 28; Cockbulge: Best Friends Little Sister, Sebastian Bach ( Skid Row )

• Day 29; Incest: Just Real Close S’all, Eyeball Chambers ( Stand By Me )

• Day 30; Free Use: Wake Up At Dark, Billy Idol

• Day 31; Incest & Breeding: Nighttime Lullaby, Arthur Shelby ( The Peaky Blinders )

A/n; I changed maybe two or three of the topics because I had no idea what to do with them and they also weren’t very appealing per-say.

[arduousblaze]

we may sink and settle on the waves by greenbriars

Tom Riddle x Harry , retelling of the little mermaid

I love this. I don't usually enjoy shorter fics but this one doesn't need to be longer to have me in love. It's so sweet and very well written. If you love Tomarry and/or heartwarming yet spicy then you should definitely read. It has my heart.

Even if you don't love the little mermaid you should give it a shot

[kazisstillawake]

Spotify playlist for the Tomarry AO3 fanfic The Runemaster 🐍🖤

[kavennnn]

new coil ch tonight.btw if you even care

[artdepleurer]

DOMESTICITY (AND OTHER CULTS) - ch. 14 - vide et credere

“Hermione,” his hand lowers, fist clenched back at his side. The warning in his voice is evident, but Hermione is too driven by shock and adrenaline to care. He hesitated, and she will make him regret it. “Hit me, Tom. Punish me,” she continues to taunt, any sense or reason long gone. “You want to punish me. I deserve it, don’t I?” “Is that what you think?” His eyes darken. “You deserve to be punished?” Something changes in his face that sends a shiver down her spine. For a moment she feels a flicker of fear, reminded of the time he had pinned her to the ground and held a knife to her throat. “Yes,” she admits breathlessly. She wants to be punished.

[unravellingsilencehq]

“Oh, Merlin, tell me, does THE HANGED MAN get what he deserves?” He is in THE DEATH EATERS & CLOSED to finding out. 

— he walks through the world as ;

name → regulus black pronouns → he/him identification → cis male year of birth → september 1960 - september 1961 face claim → ryan potter blood status → pure-blood  sexual orientation → pansexual occupation → associate barrister at the department of defence for the ministry of magic future information → traitor to the death eaters

— he is best described as ;

Complete CONTROL. The PERFECT son for any family member, or PERSPECTIVE HUSBAND for any young sorcerer. He is TAILORED. From his IMMACULATE dress robes to his PERSONALISED stationery he proudly carries under one arm. He is the scent of NEW PARCHMENT & the sign off on an OFFICIAL LETTER, written in PERFECT inked penmanship. COLD & IMPERSONALE but all the more MYSTERIOUS because of it.

— his story starts with ;

tw: death

Famous since the day he was born, Regulus has often felt the weight of the Black family legacy firmly on his shoulders. The youngest child of ORION BLACK [father] and WALBURGA BLACK [mother], Regulus was their golden son. The one who was seen and not heard. Who did as he was told and felt comfort in the routine that this expectation offered him. Whilst most children kick against authority in some way, Regulus found the act of disobeying one's parents to be an unnecessary one and regularly struggled to find any form of common ground with his elder brother SIRIUS BLACK [sibling] because of this. Curiously, Sirius had always been more interested in the world outside their own. It was a peculiar prospect to him that someone from such a high station as theirs would give a fraction of a thought to how muggles listened to music or what they learned at school. To Regulus, much like his family, muggles were a necessary nuisance, like the bitter cold in winter or the heavy rain just after a storm; something to take note of and not worth considering much thereafter. 

He would like to say that looking back through his life, that his earlier years at home were peaceful ones, and in many ways perhaps they were. At 12 Grimmauld Place, Regulus developed his love for reading and his love for various loose leaf teas and learned how easy it was to drown out the shouting matches between his mother and brother, from the window seat at the back corner of his father’s study. Hogwarts offered Regulus some true peace, the Slytherin dormitories were a happy place for him, chatting about school work by the fire with his cousin ANDROMEDA BLACK [cousin] and taking tea in their favourite green velvet chairs with his other cousin NARCISSA BLACK [cousin] as she mooned over the prospect of finding her perfect husband. Regulus proved popular amongst his fellow Slytherins, due to the notorious nature of his house, his connections and his skill as Seeker for their house team. His closest friends were from his own year, VICTOR YAXLEY [best friend/potential love interest] was his best friend and a fellow younger son from a notable family, they became close with their doormates AMIR GIBBON [best friend] and WYATT JUGSON [best friend] who rounded off their group of four.

Victor had always been his favourite. His intellectual equal and sparring partner, he knew what it was like to be related to a long and complicated family with elder siblings that were often hard to love. He was the first person that Regulus had ever loved outside of his family, though beyond a kind word and the softness of an occasional touch he had never acted on it out of fear of losing his best and oldest friend. The life of a teenager is complicated enough, figuring out oneself and one’s way in the world; though Regulus would argue in the pages of his diary that he had it harder than most. When he was fifteen his brother was officially ostracised from their family, leaving Regulus as the only son and their legacy. With Sirius finally out of the house, he felt the walls cave in. Their home was no longer theirs, it became a meeting spot for his father’s friends who whispered long into the evening with his eldest cousin BELLATRIX BLACK [cousin]. Open doors were now closed and from his bedroom on the first floor he could hear his name occasionally mentioned in raised voices by his cousin and the importance of his role in the coming months.

By sixteen Regulus had been given the tattoo on his arm that Bellatrix called “an honour”. The first at Hogwarts to receive such a gift, it was his task to spread the word of THE DARK LORD [leader] to his peers in whispers and recruit those who would strengthen his following. Regulus didn’t know much about The Dark Lord; other than his politics and that he had the backing of the figureheads of the most prominent families in society. The Dark Lord believed that those of pure heritage should be raised above the rest, and as someone who saw himself in government one day Regulus readily embraced him and was eager to carry out his message if meant keeping the good word of his family and securing a prominent seat at the table. Recruitment was easy, the sons and daughters of the noble families. His own friends and notable Twenty-Eight alumni PERSEPHONE WILKES [close friend] was a welcomed additions, which made his father and cousin incredibly pleased. Upon leaving school, Regulus secured a position as a researcher for his cousin Andromeda and her boss RODOLPHUS LESTRANGE [boss] working at The Department of Defence for The Ministry of Magic. 

His role was important for two reasons, his own personal interests in law and power- and Bellatrix had expressed great desire to know what was going on from inside the office and the allegiance of her sister and Rodolphus. It was The Dark Lord’s wish that all respected members of The Sacred Twenty-Eight pledge their loyalty to him and those with important standing in government or society were important to procure. In the beginning the work was easy, until Regulus began to have more knowledge on the cases than the people he was working with. The death of the Minister’s son, BOOKER BAGNOLD [person of interest] was the turning point in Regulus’ career, in the dark until the moment Bellatrix had been arrested for his murder, his death began a game of playing dumb to Andromeda and Rodolphus letting them know what information The Death Eaters wanted them to know and when it was best to reveal it. Years of hard work sabotage enough behind the scenes and helping them win cases as and when it was appropriate soon earned Regulus the title of associate barrister to Andromeda. Regulus was climbing the ranks at work and had established himself as a loyal servant to The Dark Lord. 

His family loved and respected them and besides Andromeda they had no secrets, which would all be soon rectified in time. In society he was a popular eligible bachelor, with only his mother standing in the way of him being snapped up by an eligible witch or wizard.  Although focused on his career, Regulus believed that he deserved the very best and ADRASTEIA GREENGRASS [acquaintance/potential love interest] had beauty and grace that rivalled even that of a veela. Regulus often finds himself enjoying polite conversation with her at functions, but not knowing where the political allegiances lie of herself and her brother ARISTAEUS GREENGRASS [acquaintance] he is careful to pursue her until he knows more. The biggest thorn in Regulus’ side however is neither his job nor the marriage market. Recently, Regulus has noticed his estranged brother watching him, after years of silence on both their parts. Curious by his sudden keenness, Regulus has been keeping an eye on Sirius whilst digging into his background, without mentioning it to his family. With whispers in the alleys that a rival group is forming to challenge The Dark Lord, Regulus has his suspicions that someone as stupid as Sirius would be likely to put themselves in danger and join a ridiculous organisation that might get him killed and their name disgraced. 

— he is a LEVEL 5 WIZARD & readied for war ;

[redsp1ke42]

😨😨

Tom and Matteo as brothers au!

Tom Riddle who really did love you but knew that so did Matteo. With the last remaining bit of kindness in his heart, which admittedly wasn’t much, Tom rejects you so Matteo could fill his place.

But when an argument goes down between the brothers one night at a party where both of them are a little tipsy, you come up as their main topic.

“She chose me!” Matteo yelled.

Tom faltered and with his head tilted up and his eyebrows raised in such a condescending way, he sneered. “Did she?”

[rafesslxt]

✧.* 𝐒𝐋𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐍 ���𝐎𝐘𝐒 | 𝐒𝐄𝐗𝐔𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐅𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃

જ⁀➴ your best friends get a hint of how sexually frustrated you are and offer their help

: ̗̀➛ nsfw, smut, teasing, making out, nicknames, cheating with Tom, fingering, oral on female, p in v unprotected, nipple sucking

「 ✦ Mattheo, Tom, Theodore, Enzo, Draco, Pansy ✦ 」

Mattheo:

❥ It didn‘t took him long to notice something‘s wrong. You two sit together in potions, currently making a new potion. Normally you two would laugh and banter all the time, teasing each other but you were so quiet today and didn‘t even look at him

❥ "Y/n, is everything alright?" he asks and puts his hand on your shoulder, drawing a little whine from you. His eyebrows knitted and he took a step back, scanning you whole. He just then noticed your flushed cheeks, flustered expression, your thighs pressed together and your bottom lip between your teeth. You were turned on.

❥ He wanted to test his theory a little and started to prepare the ingredients for the potion in front of you two. He flexed his arms a little, knowing you liked his hands because you once told him when you two were drunk. He saw your hungry gaze at his hands, making him smile to himself.

❥ "Here, chop up the root. Can you do that for me, doll?" He softly breathed against your face, coming dangerous close to you. The nickname gave you visible shiver‘s, just feeding right into his ego. He had a crush on you since forever but never actually had the balls to tell you.

❥ After class was over and you guys were free he pulled you with him to his dorm. "M-mattheo what are you doing?" you wondered but followed him. He closed the door behind you and grabbed you by your hips, pushing you against the door. A gasp left your lips and you looked at him like a deer in the lights.

❥ "Care to tell me why you‘re so .. on edge?" Thats when you finally let everything out. You broke up with your boyfriend and the reason was simple: He couldn't fuck. Mattheo had to hold back a laugh at your outburst of emotions. "It's not funny! It's so frustrating you can't even imagine!"

❥ "Want me to help you? You know.. like a best friend would." he offers you with a smug smirk on his face. You thought he was joking until he had you trembling and shaking under him. He hit every corner and touched every part of your skin that was untouched by your ex-boyfriend. "What are friends for huh?" he moaned when you clenched around him, your nails digging into his back when your orgasm came nearer. Let's just say, you never ever had to fear bad sex again.

Tom Riddle:

❥ You and your best friend Tom sat together in the library when no one was there anymore, thank‘s to Tom‘s charm and good reputation. It all started with your leg bouncing the whole time until Tom send you an annoyed glare which made you stop immediately.

❥ But it continued with your sighing. It got so distracting that at one point Tom slapped his book down onto the table so hard that you flinched. "Please tell me why you‘re sighing like a hurt puppy the whole damn time."

❥ You really considered telling him but you were kind of shy when talking about things like that. On top if that Tom already hated your boyfriend and you didn‘t want to give him another reason to add to the list. "Nothing, just.. tired."

❥ Tired my ass was what Tom thought. He knew you were lying so he had to try a different way. It didn‘t took him long to get inside your head with his new found skill ' Legilimency'

❥ "He told you what?!" Tom suddenly shouts at you. "What?" you asked him confused. "He told you that when you asked him for some foreplay?" He didn‘t even tried to hide the fact that he read your mind. "Tom! Stop going through my head all the damn time!" "Did he seriously tell you it‘s not worth the time?"

❥ He scoffs when you tell him the whole thing that happened with your boyfriend. "No wonder you‘re that sexually frustrated." "Excuse me?" "Come on. All the sighing and leg bouncing the whole time? Your body needs release." He said in a monotone voice like he talked about the weather. "Well – it‘s not that easy Tom." "It is. Let me help you."

❥ Since he could read your mind it made no sense to even try and deny the excitement that went through your body at his offer. He had you laying all spread out for him on the library desk in front of him. Books and notes all over the place and even floor. Your skirt got pushed up to your stomach and his fingers skillfully played with your throbbing clit.

❥ "Look at that. How could this not be worth anyone‘s time hm?" Tom muttered while sucking on your nipples, switching every minute between them while pumping his fingers in and out of you, his thumb circling your clit until you came around his digits. And that waw just the beginning of a whole night of foreplay.

Theodore Nott:

❥ That‘s exactly how your best friend looks at you when he overhears you talking to Pansy, telling her, you haven‘t slept with someone in so long that you would do abything for dick now. Obviously it was a joke. But obviously Theo wouldn’t be Theo If he didn‘t already formed a plan in his head.

❥ Teasing was the keyword. And patience. Theo‘s plan was to tease you little by little over days to get a reaction out of you.

❥ First day he brushed past you every here and there with his hips pushing slightly against you and his hands on your hips. It made your whole head spin and you tried to calm down, seeing him smiling at you innocently.

❥ The second day was just as simple. The whole day he whispered into your ear, laughing, joking, asking things about the class you two were having right now. And with every whisper he brushed his lips against your ear lobe or shell, his warm breath hitting your skin and leaving goosebumps behind.

❥ On the third day he got a bit bolder. When you started bouncing your leg or fidgeting with your fingers, he would put his hand on your thigh. High. He said "It‘s to calm you down a little bit cara mia." His big hands squeezing your flesh and his fingers stroking your desperate skin.

❥ Day four you and all your friends sat in the common room on the couch by the fireplace. You sat next to Theo of course, sharing a blanket since it‘s cold due the late night. At some point he had you leaning against his chest with his arms around you. While you lazily listened to Draco telling ya‘ll a story, Theo‘s finger started to dance over your slighty exposed skin on your stomach. Your shirt mist have rosen up a little under the blanket. You sucked in a breath, trying not to melt right there in front of everyone.

❥ Day five and six were the hardest because he completely neglected you. He talked to you but never stood beside you or sat next to you in class or lunch. It drove you literally crazy. Why would he do this to you? He didn‘t even hug you. But you also couldn‘t ask him because how would that sound? 'Hey Theo why don‘t you touch me anymore?' No thanks.

❥ Day seven was when you actually broke. "Theo, we need to talk, please." You practically dragged him away from the rest of your friends to your‘s and Pansy‘s room. "How can I help you principessa?" he asked with a smug smile on his face. "Touch me." was all you blurted out. He raised his eyebrows and looked surprised at you. "What?" "Touch me Theo, please. I - I can‘t concentrate anymore when you‘re not near me."

❥ Well – what was supposed to be innocent touching and stroking, ended with you on your belly on your bed with Theo behind you, pounding his cock into your pussy. "Everytime from now on that you feel like this, you come to me, capito?"

Lorenzo Berkshire:

❥ You and Enzo were best friends since you could remember. You two have gone through everything together. Break-up‘s, first heartbreak, fighting with parents, puberty, seeing each other naked by accident, literally everything.

❥ You two were so close that nobody even questioned it when you were cuddling under a blanket in the common room late at night while your friends talked about how unfair the quidditch game today was.

❥ "Did you use that peach-shampoo again?" he whispered into your ear when you layed down on his chest and your hair was right under his nose. You looked up at him and nodded with a smile, knowing it was his favorite. He sighs when he inhales it and wraps his arms around you, his fingers playing with the hem of your little crop top.

❥ Enzo was so concentrated at sonething Theodore told the group, that he didn‘t notice how he started to play with the top of her skirt, his fingers gliding under it so innocently. When you noticed you stopped breathing for a second, glanzing up at your best friend who didn‘t seem to notice what he was doing.

❥ At first it was okay but after ten more minutes, you felt yourself getting restless in his arms and shifted every now and then in his lap. You felt yourself get slowly turned on from his little touch. With his second hand he started to stroke your thigh mindlessly, not realizing how your cheeks started to get red and your pussy wet. You pressed your lips together.

❥ Then it happened. Your hips grinded against his lap out of the pleasure and desperation you felt. He froze immediately and stopped moving his hands and fingers. He gulped and looked down at you, your heavy eyes already looking up at him when you grinded against him again boldly.

❥ He swallowed down a moan when your ass grinded against his crotch. "What are you doing baby?" The nickname send shivers down your spine together with his raspy voice against your ear. "I think – I think I need out friendship to go to the next level." You breathed out. You saw him biting his lips when his hands startet moving again. One hand continueing massaging your thigh while the other slipped down into your underwear and went straight to your slick folds.

❥ "Shit you‘re soaked." he breathed when he dipped his finger into your wet pussy, teasing your throbbing clit. Your hips bucked up and you tried to be as quiete as possible so your friends around you wouldn‘t notice. Right when you were about to come around his fingers, he pulled them away, your eyes going wide.

❥ You glared up at him with a desperate look in your eyes and rosy cheeks. He licked his fingers clean when no one watched and smirked down at you. "Don‘t worry baby, you‘re gonna come around something way bigger."

Draco Malfoy:

❥ "Draco?" "Yes, y/n?" You currently were in his room at the malfoy manor due holiday‘s and since his parents really liked you – good reputation and behavior, pure blood family and a lot of money – they never had a problem with you over. The complete opposite was the case. They often hoped you two would be more than best friends some day.

❥ "Can you remember when you told me you would do anything for me?" You asked him with your voice cute and hopeful. "No.. but go on." You roll your eyes at his answer but go on like he said.

❥ "Well, there is something that you could do for me that I think you would enjoy too." you said carefully. His eyebrows rose up and he looked at you curious now. "Oh yeah and what would that be, doll?" That‘s the nickname he used on you everytime you asked him for a favor.

❥ Now or never, right? "I - I want you.. tofuckme." His eyes go wide and his jaw fell to the floor. "What did you just say?" he asks slowly, not sure If he understood right. "I said Iwantyoutofuckme." He stood up and walked over to you, grabbing you by your chin. "Y/n.. tell me slowly what you said or I swear – " "I want you to fuck me, Draco."

❥ His lips crashed into yours just a second later, pushing you down on his bed. You kissed him vack, more confused than he was. "Are you- aren‘t you gonna ask why I want this so suddenly?" you gasp when he starts sucking on your neck and his fingers already opening your jeans.

❥ "Fuck no, you can tell me afterwards. I don‘t care." he breathes before he throws all of your clothes all over his room and fucks you into his mattress for the whole night.

❥ After you two were done he pulled you against his chest, still breathing heavily. "And? What was the reason?" he asked out of breath. "Well uh – I broke up with Colin. He just couldn‘t make me happy in and outside the bedroom so .. I wanted to ask you to help me since ai felt so.. worked up." He chuckled deeply and pulled you even closer. "Told you he‘s a loser.." you roll your eyes at his comment. "You‘re mine bow, hope you know that."

Pansy Parkinson:

❥ "Pansy, can I ask you something?" you asked your best friend. You two shared a dorm together and sat currently in front of the tv you had bought for the two if you. Her new favorite show "baby" was playing. It was a italian show and she loved learning new languages. "Of course, what‘s wrong?" "Why has something to be wrong?" "Y/n.. you never ask to ask something.. only when something is wrong."

❥ You had to smile a little at her answer and rolled your eyes playfully. "Since you‘re sleeping with boys and girls.. I wanted to ask you.. do you enjoy going down on girls?" Pansy looks at you surprised. "Why are you asking me that? This isn‘t coming from no where."

❥ I sigh and look at my hands. "Uhm – Brody said he doesn‘t like it and it .. freaks him out." I tell her what my boyfriend told me. Her eyes go wide and she almost shouts at me, "He said what?!" "Can you please just answer me Pansy?"

❥ She sighs and looks at my fidgety hands. "Of course I enjoy it and what kind of man is he that he says something like that to you?" "Is it possible that maybe it‘s.. me? That something is wrong with me and not him? Maybe it looks weird or-" "Y/n stop. I promise you nothing is wrong with you love."

❥ "But you can‘t know that Pans.." "Do you want to try?" Now you are the one who looks at her in shock. "You would ?" "Yeah but only If you‘re comfortable with it of course. I know that you only have been with boys." Your cheeks heated up a little at the thought of doing something so intimate with your best friend. You two have talked about that one time and Pansy knew how open you were to trying it someday with a woman too.

❥ Let‘s just say from there on you never questioned yourself again. "Pansy I - that‘s do good." You let out a whinper, your habds going through her hair. "Hmm such a pretty girl. You‘re doing so good love." She praised you, smiling to herself. She would have a lot of fun with you in the future.

let me know If you liked it 🫶🏻 and sorry if pansy‘s part is so short but i ran out of time, ideas and i never wrote for her before 🤍

taglist: @justarandomcanadiantransdude @helendeath @thatonepansexual2000 @imabee-oralizard @supernaturaldawning @cardi-bre91 @sofa-couch26 @little-miss-naill @kolsangel @auxcordlawd @itsarajr @jolly4holly @hisparentsgallerryy @slytherinscreamqueen @mixvchelle @littlemadamred @ummmmmmm-username @jeannie-beannie @belle-blue @beautywine @sagetakami @simp-for-fantasy @whyamireadingthis

My masterlist and taglist 🤍

xoxo sarah <3

[snapesmorningcoffee]

Little Tom Riddle sits on his orphanage bed and plots to destroy the world

[snetofed]

Smut ahead watch out!!..penetration, oral (female to male) ⚠⚠⚠❗❗❗ Next

Tom hummed in satisfaction at her silence, wrapping his fingers around her throat. He tightened his grip to the point she only managed to take measured breaths. He pushed her onto her knees.

He released her throat momentarily as he got rid of his suit jacket and vest. He undid the buttons and rolled up his sleeves to his elbows.

Y/N settled into a comfortable position on her knees and as Tom's hands found her again, he unbuckled his belt. The sound of clinking metal made her drip down her thighs.

She pulled down his boxers and took him in both hands, her fingers perfectly running along his length.

She looked up at him through her lashes as she licked the tip, tasting the precum.

Her eyes closed and she let out a moan. Y/N wrapped her lips around his length, hollowing her cheeks.

Tom pulled her head hard, pushing himself down her throat, and the girl’s moan vibrated through his throat and into his veins, and Tom found himself bobbing his head up and down with ravenous need.

As he looked down, he found that what he saw was perfectly enticing. The sight of her on her knees with one sleeve of her nightgown slipped to her shoulder was maddening. Her hair was plastered to his forehead and he barely managed to keep his eyes open.

Her mouth was hot around him, and when he felt her tongue run the length of him, he felt his stomach tighten.

Not yet, he thought. He pulled out of her mouth and lifted her up with his upper arm, pushing her onto the bed.

She barely managed to straighten up when she felt the bed dip beside her. Tom pulled her onto her knees, making his hands rest on the foot of the bed. Strands of pearls brushed her nose and she turned her head to the side. Rough fingers gripped her waist and Tom lifted her nightgown and positioned himself behind her.

Tom thrust inside her and Y/N moaned, arching her back in pleasure.

“Fuck,” she moaned slowly, afraid her father or the elves would hear her. But Tom considered nothing as he wrapped his hand around her hips, moving in sync with her movements.

The feeling of him inside her was too much and when his hands found her breasts, calloused fingertips digging into her fabric, she felt a series of moans pass through her lips.

I'm sorry if it's not very good… I promise to improve and if you don't like it I understand. I'm not usually a very good writer so it makes me feel a bit sorry if you don't like it. I have more things on my profile that might interest you, please give it support, I haven't received much lately…

[slytherinslut0]

SLYTHERINSLUT0’S RIDDLEMAS

dec 10th. tom riddle — oral sex, experienced!tom.

RIDDLEMAS MASTERLIST. I 2024

summary: your ex couldn’t make you orgasm, so you were certain you were broken. tom shows you just how wrong you are.

warnings: 18+, SMUTTT MDNI, tom riddle can eat me aliv—sorry who tf said that?, tom riddle is such a realist; he sees a problem and he finds a solution, tom is a munch, praise kink, oral f!receiving, experienced tom, hufflepuff!reader.

Months pass, and your project remains the only thing Tom ever prioritizes when it's you asking.

Progress is slow—slow because you're usually far too busy talking to actually focus—yet, he always stays. He listens, even when the things you say should bore him, even when they mean nothing at all. He sits there—giving you hardly the barest scraps of himself in return as you fill the space between you with everything that crosses your mind.

Things he'd never waste a second hearing from anyone else.

And tonight, to no-one's surprise, you're doing it again—rambling on about nothing and everything all at once. You've got this way of talking—weaving tangents into something almost poetic, and usually, he lets it fade into the background as he works. You're saying something about the differences between the seasons, or maybe it's just some other kind of sentimental nonsense—at this point, he's not entirely sure.

It's easy to tune out. He tells himself he's not really listening.

Until—

"Actually, I guess I should clarify that—it's all hypothetical. I don't date," he doesn't know what you said before this, but he's certainly intrigued by it now. "And really, it has nothing to do with like, self esteem or anything, I'm just broken. Best to save someone the trouble."

That stops him cold. It's not so much the declaration that you don't date—he could have guessed that himself—but more so the way you've just called yourself broken.

It's not a word he's ever heard you use before.

"What do you mean, broken?" He asks, the question coming out far more blunt than he probably intended.

It just seems so out of character for you—you've always been an optimist, far too annoyingly positive to speak of anything this way. He blinks when you freeze, and blinks again when a moment of self consciousness seems to pass over your face—and he notes how that's a first for you, too.

"Broken...as in, uh, not normal," your eyes flit down to your lap, tracing the wood beneath where you're seated on the floor in his dorm. "My ex made that very clear in his assessment of me."

The mention of an ex is something he'd been anticipating—you're in your twenties, after all—but it's the idea that your ex is the source of you calling yourself broken, that he can't quite swallow.

"You're 'broken' because of one ex?" He says, and he can't stop how derisive and skeptical his voice sounds. He doesn't care to try. "I'm not following."

"I'm what you'd call, damaged goods, I think," you murmur, and there's an almost self-deprecating smirk on your face. He can't help but think how he's never seen that look on you, either. "I've got a slew of unhealthy baggage that comes along with me. You know, childhood traumas, abandonment issues, daddy issues—"

He snorts at that—daddy issues—and your head snaps up, smirk deepening despite yourself.

"Don't snort at my daddy issues," you huff, and there's a familiar annoyance in your voice that puts him at ease. "They're valid and real."

"I'm not denying their validity," he counters, his own smirk beginning to surface. "But daddy issues? Come on. You're not some tired cliché ripped out of a teenage romance novel. I refuse to accept your declaration of brokenness until you give me factual reasoning."

You laugh at that—alive and genuine—and for a moment, he's reminded of why he even tolerates you in his space at all.

"Fine," you cross your arms over your chest. "What do you want to know then?"

He makes a low, contemplative sound at that—because there's a million questions that come to mind with the words damaged goods—and after a moment, he settles on the one that falls out first.

"What is it, precisely, that makes you broken?"

You sigh, a bit theatrically—he knows you're just putting on a show and he wants to laugh at you for it—but he reigns that in, for now, while you figure out how you're going to respond to that.

The truth is, you don't know how to tell him the real reason you're broken—the part that has nothing to do with the laundry list of emotional baggage you could rattle off with ease. It's something...different.

Something more physical.

"I don't know, okay?" You're getting defensive. You're not sure why but you are. "Just—forget I said anything. We have this assignment to—"

"You dodging the question tells me it's more than just psychological," he cuts you off, leaning back into the couch. The way he's looking at you makes it clear—there's no way he's letting this go. "You getting defensive tells me you're embarrassed by it."

You sigh again, leaning back on your palms to mirror his body language, though it doesn't feel half as natural on you as it does on him.

"And you, being an insufferable arse, is telling me I never should have mentioned it in the first place."

His smirk at that makes you want to glare at him.

"Stop dodging," he says. "You brought it up. You don't get to take it back."

It's a challenge—the gleam in his eyes is practically screaming so. You're not sure why the sight of it makes something low in your stomach clench, and you're even less sure of why you want to tell him something like this—something you haven't told anyone else—not friends, certainly not family.

Whatever the reasoning, you can feel yourself relent.

"Maybe," you pause, the look on his face makes you second guess yourself. "...maybe I don't want to tell you because I'm afraid you'll look at me differently." You glance down at your lap, fingers twitching against the yellow pleats of your skirt before finally meeting his eyes again. "And I kind of like the way you look at me now."

Something like curiosity passes over his expression at that—but it's quickly hidden by the type of skepticism that tells you he still doesn't believe you're being serious.

"You're overthinking it," he replies, unmoving. "Whatever it is you think you're going to tell me, I'm not going to look at you differently. You're still you—no filter, unabashedly verbal—"

"Too verbal. Too positive, too loud," you finish his sentence for him—because you know that's how he thinks of you. "Too annoyingly optimistic. Far too hufflepuff for your cold snake skin. I know."

"Exactly," he says, tongue running over his bottom lip in attempt to quell his smirk. "So I reiterate. There's nothing you could tell me that would change that."

"Fine," you relent, giving in begrudgingly because you know there's no other option. "But don't say I didn't warn you."

He just lifts a hand at that, as if to say; whatever you think it is, I can handle it. The action makes you suck a breath into your lungs, trapping it there.

"You're right," you say after a long exhale. "I have a slew of psychological bullshit that would take the span of a year for me to fully go over in one sitting—but, I'm fine with it. That's...that's not the thing that made me call myself broken."

He says nothing, just makes a motion with his eyes for you to keep going.

"It's, uhm...physical." You whisper, and your brain is moving too much and too fast and you're not even completely sure how to say it without sounding insane. "And...I don't know, I just...I can't orgasm. No matter what. I just can't—it's frustrating and embarrassing and it's the reason my ex ended things."

There's a silence that follows, and he knows if it were anyone else, they'd probably find a way to comfort you. Reassure you. Tom, however, isn't anyone else—

"You're joking," he says, and his tone is incredulous again.

A self-depreciating laugh leaves your lips involuntarily, the sound of it making you almost want to cringe.

"Would it be less embarrassing if I was?"

He's still just watching you, dissecting your words as if waiting for you to crack a smile and confess this was all some stupid joke—and the vulnerability of it aches like a stab to the gut.

"This is the reason you think you're broken?" Is what he goes with when he finally realizes you're being serious. "Because you haven’t orgasmed?"

The bluntness of it makes you flush, makes you wish you could sink into the floor. "I know it's not normal, okay—"

"It's not an abnormality, either," he asserts, with casualty. "You might just have a disconnect."

You blink, caught off guard—not just by his choice of words, but by how matter-of-fact he sounds, like this isn't the mortifying confession it feels like.

"A disconnect?"

"A disconnect," he repeats, looking you over, something clinical slipping into his eyes. "Between mind and body. And considering how loud your thoughts are—"

"Hey—" you snap, suddenly feeling a bit indignant, but he just continues on.

"—it's not surprising that you can't get out of your own head."

You open your mouth to argue, to tell him he's not a therapist, so what the hell does he know? But the certainty in his expression makes you pause. He doesn't look patronizing or condescending, just...assured. Like he knows exactly what he's talking about.

You hesitate, lips parting, a protest forming on your tongue. Before you can say anything, though, he raises a hand to stop you.

"Come here," he says, standing up from the couch.

You blink, trying to decipher what the hell he's implying—because if anything, the last thing that's going to make you less paranoid about intimacy is proximity.

"What?"

He just looks at you, making a motion with two fingers, beckoning you to stand.

"Don't ask questions. Just come here."

It's an order, and it makes your spine tingle in a way that's definitely not comfortable—but you get up from the floor, and move closer to him anyway, closing the distance between you with only a few steps until you're close enough to him that you can practically feel the heat that seems to come off him in waves.

It's weird—he's suddenly too much all at once—you're so much more aware of him being in front of you than you think you've ever been before and it does not help that he's just looking at you—as if studying you—blinking only once as he raises those same two fingers to your neck, resting them against the pulse point at your throat.

Your entire body tenses. His touch is far more gentle than you ever imagined it being, something disarming that makes your pulse beat faster against his fingers as a result—and because this is Tom, with all his smug and certainty—he gives you a look that tells you he can feel it before he slides his fingers up to rest on your forehead.

You scowl at the motion, but he clicks his tongue, the sound as condescending as it is amused.

"I told you, you're an overthinker." He murmurs, eyes dipping to your lips. "Too much noise."

You want to refute that—mostly because you're not overthinking, you can't be—he's just so unequivocally overwhelming—

"I'm not—"

You start, but he moves his fingers from your forehead and places them against your lips—

"Quiet." He scolds, and that makes something low in your stomach clench. "Your body knows what to do. You're just letting your thoughts get in the way."

You long to protest again, just for the sake of defiance—but then his fingers are against your collarbone, and that motion in your stomach becomes a bit more of a squirm—

"Your body is trying to tell you something," he whispers, watching each little hitch in your breath. "But you're too busy talking over it to hear what it's saying."

You realize—with a sort of horror that's laced with something a little more uncomfortable—that he's right. Your body is trying to say something. It's communicating through the unsteady force of your breaths, through the clench of your fists against your skirt—

Of course, he notices. He's noticing far too much.

"Relax," he murmurs, and now he's trailing those same two fingers in an unhurried path down your shoulder. You suddenly regret every decision that led to you wearing a T-shirt. "I'm not going to bite you."

Something about the way he says it makes you wish he wasn't quite so convincing—the familiar banter you long for gone with the sharp exhale that comes out of your mouth as his fingers encircle your wrist—

"Your pulse is racing," he says casually, far too casually for how much effort it's taking you not to scream. "Does that seem broken to you?"

Gods—you want to respond—you really, really do— but your thoughts flatline when you realize his touch has shifted. He's no longer just holding your wrist; he's guiding your hands to rest against his chest, and—

"There you go," he whispers, and the tone of it tells you he knows exactly what it is he's doing to you. "See? Your body's doing exactly what it's meant to do. You—" his fingers trail up your arms, and his voice gets lower. "—are not broken."

You swallow hard, acutely aware of your hands on his chest and the way your palms are clammy against the fabric of his shirt. He's shifting you now, deliberately crowding you, and it's only when you feel the edge of the couch press against the back of your calves that you realize—perhaps a second too late—exactly what it is he's doing.

You stumble back onto the leather, and he follows—crushing his lips to yours.

You gasp, startled, because despite everything you truly hadn't seen this coming. The kiss is messy, clumsy, and his hand finds the nape of your neck, tugging at your hair with just enough force to make it sting. And inevitably, when you gasp again, he takes it as an invitation to work his tongue into your mouth, other hand slipping under your shirt—trailing up your stomach.

You're trembling now, and he makes a low sound at the realization. Your brain is racing to catch up, and the irony of this isn't lost on you—he'd just claimed you weren't broken, but he might as well be destroying you himself.

He parts from your lips only to trail his own across your jaw—

"You're shaking," he murmurs with a smirk against your throat—as if he's taking immense pleasure in the fact—you hate how smug it makes him sound. "Do you want me to stop?"

You want to tell him he's being a bastard, but then his lips press to that spot on your neck—the one that makes your breath hitch and your pulse stutter—and you find yourself whimpering at the sensation.

"No," you breathe, and you'd be embarrassed by the pleading tone in your voice if you weren't so lost in the moment. "Don't stop."

He makes another low, satisfied noise at that.

"Good," he whispers. "No thinking. Just feel."

You swallow—throat dry. It's unfair how easily he's dismantling you with nothing but his mouth and hands. Unfair how he's leaving you breathless and unraveling while somehow making you feel seen in a way you can't explain, even with your eyes shut.

"Tom," you find yourself whimpering, and you aren't even sure what you're asking for—you just know you want more as his lips trail lower—as his fingers work to tug down your skirt. "Gods."

"Shh. Feel me," he murmurs, almost possessively, his lips brushing lower, grazing over your stomach, then your pelvis. "Let your body do the talking."

You've got your hands tangled in his hair before you even know what you're doing, and you hate the fact that you're pretty sure you'd melt into a puddle if he weren't holding you together.

"I feel you," you whimper as he kisses lower. "You're all I feel."

He makes another low sound at that, and you just know it's the response of ‘yeah, that’s right’—but then he's between your legs, panties shifted out of the way, and the first sweep of his tongue against your clit makes all coherent thought shift to static.

"Oh! God," you gasp, the word barely escaping before dissolving into a whimper when he does something with his tongue that makes your vision blur. "Tom—oh, fuck."

He just makes that smug, satisfied noise against you again before his tongue swirls over your clit and you find yourself almost cursing whatever deity made him so good at this, because it's not fair how quickly he reduced you to a whimpering, shaking mess beneath him and—

"Don't stop," you find yourself babbling, digging your nails into his scalp and knowing you look like a goddamn wreck as he makes a meal out of you—tongue lapping up your slick and swirling your clit before sealing his lips around it and forcing your back off the leather beneath it. "Please, don't stop, please—"

It's all you can manage to say. Your thighs are shaking now, and you're sure he's got you dripping all over his face with how soaked you are. He knows you're falling apart and he just keeps going— your brain ceasing function in favour of just focusing on how fucking close you are—how close you are to something you've never felt before in your life—and you're not even sure what you're begging for anymore but it's incoherent and loud—

"I need—" you whimper, your hands tightening in his hair, pulling just enough to make him groan against you. You don't know what you're asking for, but you know he has it. "I need—I need—“

"Let go," he murmurs against you, the roughness in it vibrating up into your belly. "I dare you."

There's still a little bit of you functioning on autopilot, just enough to tell you that when he murmurs those words—vibrations rattling up your cunt and into your chest—you're completely done for.

It’s merely a few seconds later that your high reaches its peak and he just keeps lapping as you shake apart beneath him with an intensity you've never felt before in your life—orgasm shredding you apart at the seams. Your thighs clamp around his face, your eyes squeezed shut, ears ringing so loud you barely register his low, muttered praises: "good girl," "so good," "there you go."

You’re fairly positive your legs will never be able to support you again when you finally come back down, feeling entirely like jelly as he pulls back, tongue flicking over his lips to clean off whatever's left of you.

And without thinking, you grab him and pull him up, crashing your lips against his in a messy, desperate kiss. He tastes like you, like him, like something you can't quite describe—and it makes everything feel intense and unbearably real all at once.

He gives you a moment, as if letting you recover, just languidly kissing you back—and you have to be honest with yourself and admit that this kind of makes you want to scream.

"A disconnect," he smirks against your mouth, the tone still smug. You manage a weak smack to his shoulder, though it does nothing to wipe the satisfaction off his face. "Still sure you're broken?"

You hate that he's right. Hate that he's managed to pull a reaction from you that you didn't think was possible. But as you sit there, shaky and spent, you know you can't deny the truth: no, you're not broken.

"Not broken." You whisper back. "You will be though, if you don't stop smirking at me like that."