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slytherinslut0 · 5 months

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Tom Riddle.| i don’t share

PAIRING: Tom Riddle x Reader

SUMMARY: after you and tom have a heated exchange in class, he tells you he’ll stop by your dorm later that night to help you with questions you had, something he’s done many times before. but when he catches you in the midst of an intimate moment, the restraint he’d been maintaining for all those years finally shatters.

WORD COUNT: 6k.

TAGS: 18+, SMUT, Dom!Tom, Sadism, Possessive Behaviour, Toxic Behaviour, Rough Sex, Masturbation, Size Kink (?), Praise Kink, Slight Degredation, Humiliation, Spanking, Sexual Punishment, Edging, Teasing, Denied Orgasm, PIV, Dirty Talk.

BASED OFF THIS REQUEST.

"Tom, please, please," your voice carried a desperate plea, a subtle whine underscoring the urgency not just for yourself, but for the salvation of your faltering grades. "Just a few questions--I'm on the edge of begging here."

Tom's gaze burned into yours with an arrogant glint, a smirk playing on his lips. "Begging is rather unbecoming of you...are you sure you're feeling okay?"

Drenched in his trademark condescension, his words flowed with the expected arrogance he normally exuded. Battling the impulse to roll your eyes, you opted to play along and humor him instead, in hopes he'd help you out.

"Truth be told, the stress is getting to me," you countered, matching his arrogant gaze with a wry smile. "I think I've got a fever--can you check?"

"Using illness as a ploy for attention, now that's more like you." Tom's smirk widened, and his gaze took on a knowing gleam, his tone dripping with a hint of sadistic amusement. "But fine--if you insist on dragging me into your theatrics, I'll play along. Come here."

Your stomach leapt with an unexpected surge of excitement, a feeling you had now become quite familiar with in your interactions with Tom. For the longest time, you had found him undeniably attractive, his reserved demeanour only adding to the allure. But, despite your playful attempts at flirting, he continually remained stoic, almost always meeting your advances with dead-ended remarks. Teasing and joking with him had become a sort of game, but the infuriating part was that he never seemed willing to take it any further.

As you rounded the creaky wooden desk in the potions classroom that was now emptied of its usual occupants, the electric air around you buzzed with anticipation. It was a familiar dance between you two--flirting that skirted the edges of something more, a constant push and pull that kept the dynamic invigorating.

As you positioned yourself beside him, casually leaning against the desk with a deliberate flair for dramatic effect, Tom huffed in response. The struggle to contain an amused smirk played across his plush lips while his dark eyes scanned your face with a stoic precision, emotions meticulously guarded as always.

Then, something shifted.

Tom's demeanour flipped subtly, a seriousness settling into his expression as he closed the distance. One of his large hands cupped the back of your head, holding you steady, while the back of his other gently pressed against your forehead. The room appeared to shrink, your pulse quickening in response to the newfound intimate touch. Your gaze remained locked onto his, neither of you daring to blink.

"Hm," Tom's dark eyes flickered momentarily toward your lips, a subtle intensity in his gaze. His voice, laden with husky undertones, caressed the air as he remarked, "you do seem to be a little hot."

"Only a little?" you whispered, your voice a sultry purr, the words teasingly leaving your lips as you tried to mentally steady yourself. "Think you need to check again...perhaps, internally, this time?"

Noticing Tom's jaw tense slightly, his eyes darkening, you felt his grip on the back of your head tighten. He dropped his hand from your forehead and tugged you closer, your heart jumping up into your throat as the heat of his tall frame enveloped you.

"You've got quite the mouth on you," he observed, a smirk playing on his lips. "If I'm certain of anything, it's that no fever could ever match the heat of your audacity."

You swallowed the lump of arousal in your throat, silently working to calm your heart rate as he brought his free hand back up, his pointer finger tracing a tantalizing path over your bottom lip with deliberate intent.

"Don't be shy now," his murmur, soft and commanding, cut through the tension, "Open up for me."

As if under a spell, you complied with his command, a shudder of desire rolling up your spine. As his finger glided past your parted lips, exerting gentle pressure on your tongue, his intense gaze remained fixed on your mouth. Gradually, you sealed your lips around his digit, releasing a controlled exhale as a surge of adrenaline enveloped you. Your eyelids fluttered in surrender, losing touch with sanity in the heat of the moment while his grip on your hair tightened to a degree that almost felt like he intended to shatter your skull in his hand.

Trapped in his hold, you slowly reopened your eyes, meeting his dark, intoxicating gaze. With intentional pressure, you suctioned your mouth around his finger, releasing a subtle groan that seemed to echo in the charged air. Tom's heartbeat felt almost audible as he slowly began to withdraw, his eyes never once leaving your lips.

Until, he abruptly halted, hooking his finger against the inside of your cheek, tugging you closer. Your hands shot up, palms pressing onto the strength of his chest as you stumbled toward him, blinking in stunned surprise.

"The desperation emanating from you is truly appalling," he murmured, his dark eyes flicking between yours and your lips before returning to meet your gaze, his face possessing a sadistic smirk unable to be hidden. "Do you possess no self-control, hm? Is proper behaviour a concept foreign to you?"

A defiant glint sparked in your eyes as you regained your composure, subtly licking your lips when he finally withdrew his finger from your mouth, a trail of saliva following along with it.

"Seriously? Nothing?" You nearly groaned, his unyielding grip on the back of your head keeping you locked in place. Your faces hovered dangerously close, the charged proximity making the air crackle with anticipation. "No reaction from you at all?"

"You'll have to do better than that," he remarked, the tone oozing arrogance. "Believe me, I possess more restraint than you can fathom."

"Oh, come on, Tommy," you teased, infusing the nickname with a sensual cadence. A sultry purr escaped your lips, a smirk teasing them as you lifted a hand, running two fingers along his jawline. "Why don't you let loose a bit? I can show you better."

His demeanour shifted again, and within an instant his hand darted up, seizing your wrist and pulling it away from his face. Simultaneously, the hold on the back of your head morphed its grip onto your jaw, a flicker of darkness dancing in his eyes.

With a commanding force, he pushed your ass back against the desk, his words a dark demand. "Don't call me that."

"Oh, word?" you responded, a playful edge in your tone, purposefully reaching to provoke a reaction from him. You'd been friends with Tom for years now, you knew he was used to this shit from you. "Did I strike a nerve?"

In a swift motion, Tom knocked your legs apart with his knee, forcing himself between your thighs as you sat atop the desk, his grip tightening around your wrist while simultaneously intensifying on your jaw. His long fingers squeezed your cheeks together, a combination of restraint and control that amplified the charged atmosphere.

"You're such a fucking brat," he muttered, the words laced with a hint of disdain. His grip remained unyielding, the pressure on your jaw and wrist asserting dominance. "I don't put up with brats."

Barely able to squeeze the words out through his firm grip on your face, you breathed, "Okay, Thomas."

"You think you're funny, huh?" His anger surged, a flicker of irritation flashing in his eyes. "I know you're just trying to piss me off," he retorted, the words edged with a stern warning. "But I can promise you, the last thing you want to do is piss me off. I will fucking ruin you."

As you stared at him, your entire body pulsing from head to toe, you found yourself lost in the heat of his power, brain fogged by his intensity. Gods, you wanted this man more than you wanted to fucking breathe--at this point you'd let him fuck you in the middle of the corridor if it meant he'd finally get inside you.

"Look at all that unchecked aggression," you muttered, your gaze locked with his. His eyes narrowed in response, and he released some of the grip on your face. "Seems like you need an outlet, hm?"

His hand slithered with a serpent's grace; resuming its place on the back of your head, his long fingers threading through the strands of your hair like a possessive caress. With a deliberate intensity, he brought his lips to your ear, his warm breath sending a shiver down your spine. His voice; a deep, dark growl, resonated with a raw power as he whispered,

"I may be a man of restraint, but you're dangerously close to shattering it," he paused, briefly, noting your lungs hitching, your breath turning shallow. "And you should know, once it's shattered, there's no fucking fixing it."

Your entire body ignited into flame, the heat of his presence, his power, enveloping you. Gathering yourself, you whispered, "Is that supposed to scare me?"

Tom's response was a low, throaty chuckle that reverberated with a mixture of amusement and something darker.

"Perhaps it should," he murmured, the words lingering in the charged air like a subtle warning as he pulled back, examining your face. "You wouldn't be able to handle anything I'd give you."

"And what proof do you have to back up that claim, huh?" A sly grin curved your lips as you met his challenging gaze, your entire body quivering under the heat of his eyes. "Pretty big accusation to make."

"Oh, little witch...look at you," he remarked, each word dripping with dark arrogance. His breath, a calculated whisper against your skin, made you shudder, while the intensity in his grip conveyed a promise of untamed desire. "My breath alone just made you quiver...could you imagine what my fucking tongue would do."

A whimper caught in your throat as his words wrapped around you like a bewitching spell. At a loss for words, you met his gaze with a mixture of faltering defiance and sweltering desire, lips parted and heart hammering like a caged animal--the intensity of the moment leaving you momentarily speechless as the heat of his body seperating your legs drew nearly insufferable.

"Nothing to say now, hm?" His dark eyes drilled into yours, taking note of your speechlessness. A cruel smirk played on his lips as he pressed further, reveling in the control he knew he finally had over you. "Cat got your tongue, perhaps?"

"Hardly," a wicked smile curled on your lips as you finally found your voice. "Just taking a moment to savour the reaction I managed to draw from you."

"Be careful, little witch," Tom's voice dipped into a sinister cadence as he leaned in closer, eyes gleaming with dark amusement. "Poking the dragon might awaken a beast you're not prepared for."

Your cunt clenched. Now this was entirely painful. You squirmed in his grip, his nails digging into your wrist. "Fucking hell, Tom..."

"Let me make something crystal clear," Tom's voice dripped with a dark, seductive edge as he leaned in even closer, his hand leaving your head and slithering down to grasp your hip, his eyes ablaze with intensity. "I know you enjoy playing these little games, pushing me--but keep it up, see what happens. I'll take you right here, right over this fucking desk. I'll fuck you so hard that the entire school will hear you screaming my name."

Tom's words reverberated through the charged atmosphere, leaving you nearly panting with need. Your mind struggled to comprehend the gravity of his promises, each syllable acting like a potent spell that intoxicated your conscious. Thoughts scattered like leaves in the wind, and you found yourself unable to string together a coherent response, only able to simply stare at him.

"And you should be aware that once I fuck you, once I've claimed you as mine...there's no turning back. You'll be mine and mine alone." His eyes darkened, an unmistakable possessiveness seeping into his tone as his teeth nipped your earlobe. "I don't fucking share."

A visceral shudder rippled through your entire being, your eyelids instinctively fluttering as Tom's possessive declaration echoed in the room. After months of navigating the labyrinth of suggestive encounters and endless flirtation, this moment felt like a fucking breakthrough. It fueled a determination within you, a resolve to seize this opportunity and extract every conceivable nuance you could from it.

"Fuck-take a hint, Riddle..." your voice, barely a whisper, escaped as you confessed, "I want to be yours."

As Tom pulled back, a gravity more profound than you'd ever witnessed before emanated from his eyes. Reclaiming your jaw, he tugged you closer, scrutinizing your face with a newfound seriousness. His gaze roved across your features, an intensity that demanded truth, leaving no room for evasion or the veil of humor.

Then, he spoke--his voice a low, rough demand. "Say it again."

All the oxygen depleted from the room as Tom's intense gaze drilled into you. In a barely audible whisper, you repeated, "I want to be yours."

A sadistic grin crawled across his lips as he took in your words, his breath washing warm over your face as he paused, seemingly considering each syllable, his brain working vigorously behind his eyes. Then, without another word, Tom released his grip on you entirely, taking a deliberate step back. His gaze shifted toward his bag and then checked the time, as though he just remembered where he was and where he was supposed to be.

Finally, he looked back at you and calmly stated, "I'll meet you in your dorm tonight, and we can go over those questions you had."

As he turned, making a swift exit, the room seemed to exhale with his departure, the silence amplifying the residue of his presence. You stood there, a mixture of bewilderment and exhilaration, caught in the aftermath of his intense gaze. Time suspended briefly until you forcibly snapped yourself out of the trance.

"Thanks for giving me a time," you grumbled to yourself, reaching for your bag. "Jackass."

Stepping out of the deserted potions room, shadows lingered in the wake of Tom's lead, the rest of the day unfolding in a whirlwind. Your mind echoed with reflections on recent events, a potent blend of anticipation and nervous energy heightening your senses. Though Tom had been a familiar presence in your dorm, stopping by many times over the years to help with academic matters, tonight resonated with an unspoken shift.

As the evening descended, you returned to your dorm to finally settle in for the night. Emerging from the shower, clad in the comfort of your black, silky nightgown, your mind gravitated towards Tom. His cold, authoritative aura, the intense gaze from those dark eyes, and the sensations stirred by his every touch played on a loop in your thoughts.

By this point, the clock had ticked well past dinner, and as you considered the impending commencement of his prefect duties, a lingering doubt crept in--a familiar question of whether he might have, in his typical fashion, overlooked your presence for the night.

Exhaling a frustrated sigh, you sank onto your bed, envisioning the myriad ways you'd unleash your anger on him tomorrow for leaving you stranded like this.

Yet, as your mind played out the scenario--his stoic features, emotionless gaze, and unwavering intensity absorbing your verbal barrage, a scenario that he's very much accustomed to--an undeniable warmth welled up within your core. It was an ache, a deep desire for that very man, one you couldn't brush aside any longer.

Lost in thought, your hands embarked on an exploratory odyssey across your body, channeling the essence of Tom's touch in your fervid imagination. His dark eyes, in your mind's portrayal, delved into every contour with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. Imagined sensations heightened as you envisioned his firm fingers leaving an indelible impression on your skin, his deep voice rolling through your ears like thunder as he touched you.

Eyes tightly shut, your chest rose and fell with the cadence of heightened emotions. Your hand, now boldly tracing the insatiable heat between your thighs, delicately danced over your most intimate desires, fingers swirling over your clit, your soft gasps filling the silence in your dorm. Each caress ignited bursts of ecstasy, an all-consuming longing that whispered the name of the infuriating man whose touch alone could quell the fervour within you, but who instead continues to brush you aside.

Engulfed in the sanctuary of your private musings, the muffled world outside went forgotten, your haze of pleasure shielding you from acknowledging the discreet knock on your door. However, when Tom's voice, crystal clear, penetrated the silent sanctuary just seconds before your door swung open, you were immediately pulled back down to reality. In an instant, you sprang from your bed, your face a canvas painted with an intense shame that seemed to scream from your very forehead.

Your heart raced in your throat as he immediately halted, locking eyes with you. A pregnant pause hung in the air, his lips parting as the realization dawned, and you both grappled with the awkward aftermath of what he had inadvertently stumbled upon. Your eyes dropped to the floor, your face now a shade rivaling a ripe tomato.

In a voice tinged with embarrassment, you grumbled, "can you please shut the door?"

After a few seconds that felt like forever, the soft click of the door closing resonated through the room, and in the ensuing silence, Tom took a solitary step closer. Your eyes remained fixated on the floor, burning holes into the aged wood as you awkwardly adjusted your silk black nightgown against your thighs.

Tom's voice carried an arrogant purr, the huskiness in his tone as unmistakable as daylight. "Did you finish?"

Utterly mortified, a scowl crept across your face as you raised your gaze to meet his. His jaw tightened visibly, reaching a level of strain that seemed almost painful. The pupils of his eyes widened, revealing an emotion you had never witnessed before. Eager to divert from the awkwardness, you took a quick retreat toward your desk, flipping open your textbook in a desperate attempt to change the subject.

As you immersed yourself in the pages, you felt Tom's presence materialize behind you. His tall frame loomed large over yours, his intoxicating energy radiating like fire.

A shiver ran down your spine as he brought his lips dangerously close to your ear and murmured, "look at me."

A languid tension filled the air as your breath hitched, the room seeming to pulse with an intoxicating energy. Painfully slow, you reluctantly lifted your head, your gaze fixated on the wall in an attempt to escape the intensity of Tom's presence. Impatience emanated from him like a palpable force and with a swift movement, his large hand enveloped your chin, guiding your head to the side, forcing your eyes to meet his.

"I asked you a question," Tom's voice, edged with authority, cut through the charged silence. "Answer it."

A soft gasp escaped your throat as he pressed against you, tightening his grip on your face, his crotch forcing your hips to meet the edge of the desk, your palms finding purchase against the aged wood in an attempt to steady yourself.

"No," you barely whispered, a tremulous breath lingering in the charged air. "I didn't."

"How unfortunate..." his plush lips teased a smirk as he chuckled, dark and arrogant, slightly shaking his head in feign disappointment, clucking his tongue. "Can't even fucking pleasure yourself properly, hm? You need my help with that too?"

His intense gaze dipped over your lips, a predatory glint in his eyes. The grip on your face tightened, radiating warmth that coursed through your entire body, all of the oxygen dissipating from the room.

"Dare you to try," you tossed back, a defiant glint in your eyes, finding your voice from Merlin knows where, your entire body shaking. "We both know you're too sca-"

Mid-sentence, Tom swiftly interrupted you. His hand, once cupping your chin, shifted with assertive precision, shoving two fingers into your mouth. Your head was pulled back against his shoulder, lips pressed to your ear, creating an intimate proximity that did unspeakable things to your already soaked cunt.

In the closeness, he asserted, "you want me to help you cum." It wasn't just a question or a statement; it hung in the air as a demanding command. "Say it."

A shudder skirted up your spine at his words, every fiber of your being reacting to the unmistakable pressure of his growing erection pressing against your ass.

With an eager nod, you managed to utter the words around the intrusion of his fingers, "I want you to help me."

He huffed, amused. "Help you with what?"

"Cum." You nearly whined. "Help me fucking cum."

Tom's fingers delved deeper, triggering a reflexive gag, your eyes welling with tears at his further intrusion. Simultaneously, his free hand navigated down the contours of your lower back, gracefully sliding along the delicate silk fabric of your nightgown.

"This mouth," he hissed, the strain evident in his voice, as if his restraint teetered on the edge; jolting your head in his grip. "...it's a fucking problem. I want to do unspeakable things to this filthy little mouth."

As your cunt clenched at this words, a deep groan rumbled within you, eyelids fluttering shut as you battled the urge to gag once more, Tom's fingers pressing down on your tongue with additional pressure. His other hand slipped lower, sliding under the fabric of your gown, tracing the contours of your backside with a possessive caress.

"But that will have to wait," Tom asserted, his fingers withdrawing from your mouth, trailing a gentle path across your cheek as his lips brushed your ear. "You require my assistance--and what kind of man would I be if I didn't follow through, hm?"

His firm grip claimed a palmful of your ass, molding and caressing the flesh, coaxing a whimper from your lips.

"Not a very--" you started, but he swiftly cut you off.

"Shut up," he commanded, the power in his voice brooking no disobedience. "That wasn’t an invitation for snark."

You huffed, working hard to stifle your smirk. With a subtle yet commanding touch, his hand glided back up your spine, urging you to bend over more deeply. Simultaneously, his foot skillfully maneuvered between yours, coaxing a widening of your legs.

"Keep your hands on the desk," he instructed, his tone flat. "If you move them, I stop."

Standing before the desk, clammy palms pressed against the smooth surface, anticipation coursed through you like an electric current. Your lids fluttered as Tom's hand descended once again to your ass, lifting your nightgown to fully expose your backside to his hungry eyes. His substantial hand wasted no time, caressing every inch of exposed skin with a fervour that carried an almost reverential touch, silently acknowledging the vulnerability of what you were willingly offering him.

And then, his other hand found your front, slithering down your stomach and stopping above the mound of your pussy, his breath washing warm over your ear as he studied you, watching every ministration of your face as he inched closer.

"Tell me," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "What were you thinking about when you were touching yourself?"

Your heart leapt, but you swallowed the lump of anxiety in your throat, about to respond to his question when the pad of his finger connected with your slit, slicking itself in your wetness, slowly dragging over your clit and causing your entire body to jolt in response, a moan of relief flowing past your teeth.

"Mm," he exhaled, his lungs unsteady. "Look how fucking wet you are."

You mewled at his words, his finger rolling over your clit in slow, sensual circles--but just as you were melting for him, his other hand came down hard on your ass, causing you to cry out in surprise and pain, your cheek stinging in the wake of his strength.

"I expect an answer," he growled, his voice low and menacing, the smirk almost audible in his voice. "You want to cum, don't you?"

You whimpered, fighting through the pleasured sting, head swimming in the onslaught of his fingers. "Yes, I do."

"Then answer the fucking question," he growled, his voice a deep rasp in your ear. "Pretty little brat...I'm not like those other guys you've fucked--I will break you...I will have you fucking begging for me, understand?"

“Yes,” you whimpered, overwhelmed by pure, unbearable lust, your throat dryer than the desert. “I understand.”

“Good girl.” Despite the praise, his free hand connected with your ass cheek once more, staining the skin red and eliciting a sharp squeal from your lungs. “Apologize.”

"I-I'm-" you gasped, your lids squeezed shut, nails digging into the wood of the desk as his relentless assault on your clit intensified. "I'm sorry-"

"Yeah? Are you?" He sneered, the sadistic arrogance in his tone almost suffocating. Amusement radiated from him like palpable waves. "I'm not quite convinced. You still haven't answered the fucking question."

Your heart thumped, his hand ghosting over your stinging flesh, the fear of another harsh smack prompting a quick response.

"You," you confessed, your voice a plea, a whine. "I was thinking of you."

He hummed in satisfaction, rewarding you with another sharp smack despite your confession, causing you to jolt forward toward the desk. His other hand skillfully guided you back into place, his fingers slowing their pace on your clit as he clucked his tongue in a disappointed cadence.

"I'm not impressed," he said, his hand caressing the spot where he had just spanked you. "You can do better than that. Tell me exactly what you were imagining."

You took a deep breath, trying to focus on the sensations he was causing rather than the embarrassing confession he was forcing from you, forcing your brain to string together a coherent sentence despite the utter onslaught of sensations coursing through you.

"I-I was imagining you touching me," you muttered, almost inaudibly, a deep groan slipping past your teeth as he slicked his finger along your slit, collecting your juices, teasing your core before returning back up to your clit. "I-ah-I was..thinking about..your hands..on my body..."

"Mm," Tom hummed in approval, squeezing your stinging asscheek, massaging the forming welts. "And what else?"

Your head spun, veins filled with fire as your climax loomed just on the brink. Your entire body trembled with anticipation, and attuned to your heightened state, Tom skillfully intensified his efforts. Two synchronized spanks on your ass, delivered with precision, propelled you even closer to the precipice of ecstasy, each sensation pushing you to the very edge of release.

Your lungs fought to find breath, your heart hammering. You were right there. "Tom-fuck-oh my Go-"

"Not yet," he cooed, his tone as soft as a feather, a feigned sincerity that bordered on sickening. As his fingers leisurely decelerated, he punctuated the change with another spank. Frustration welled up, and you whined, your head falling back. "You haven't even come close to earning an orgasm yet."

"Tom! Please!" you squealed, attempting to grind your hips against his hand, but it only prompted him to move slower. "Please."

"No." He said, flatly, the deliberate decrease in pace accompanied by two more resounding spanks against your already swollen asscheek, and you groaned, fighting hard to collect yourself. "You know what I want to hear, little witch."

"Gods-fuck-" you gasped, entire body vibrating as you worked to gather your thoughts. "I was thinking about you touching me, just like this! Fingering me, making me cum--fucking me."

As the last words escaped your lips, a primal growl rumbled from deep within Tom's chest. The pace of his fingers resumed with an intensified fervour, eliciting a cascade of gasps, squeals, and moans--far louder than you had intended. In response, he delivered another resounding spank, your orgasm swiftly approaching, charging towards you with the unstoppable force of a raging bull.

"Such a desperate little slut for me, aren't you?" He husked, his voice torn, shredded. "You want me, huh? You want to cum on my fucking cock?"

You nodded, gasping. "Yes! Fuck-please!"

"Fuck-" he growled, ripping his fingers from your cunt just as you were about to fall over the edge, just as you were about to shatter beneath his touch. "Perhaps you will."

A frustrated groan escaped you as the realization hit--three fucking orgasms thwarted in under twenty minutes. Your entire body vibrated with the lingering need for release, your cunt throbbing with the ache for something to sate it. However, all grievances dissolved into oblivion as Tom deftly undid his belt, the clink of the metal latch resonating through the room before he tugged his trousers down his thighs; grappling your hips and pressing his throbbing erection against your ass, the only separation being the fabric of his black briefs.

"You think you're ready for me?" He murmured, his teeth immediately nipping at the flesh of your earlobe, his fingers burying bruises into your hips. "You sure this is what you want?"

You moaned, his words alone doing enough to make your entire lower body scream. "Yes, yes-I'm fucking sure."

"You want me to claim this wet little cunt? You want to make yourself mine?" His hand slithered around your hip, reaching toward your mound. Softly dragging a finger over your clit, he groaned as you involuntarily jerked your ass back against his cock. "Tell me."

"Yes!" You gasped as he began rubbing tight, harsh circles over your swollen nub, your jaw falling open in pure bliss. "Fuck me, Tom-please-I fucking need you."

"Atta girl," he praised, the tone of his voice eliciting a whimper past your teeth. You were so used to pissing him off that you never realized how much you loved pleasing him. "Keep being good for me...take this fucking cock."

His hand left your clit again, and you huffed, your eyes fluttering shut as you took a moment to collect yourself, sucking in lungfuls of air like you'd been starved of it for years. You felt Tom fumbling with his boxers, and you glanced behind you, watching as he finally pulled himself free, throbbing cock smacking against your ass.

As you caught sight of his size, your stomach leapt. "Holy fuck-“

"Shh," Tom cooed, watching your eyes. "Relax."

He was fucking huge, his cock twitching eagerly within his grasp as he enveloped the shaft with his fist, pumping himself a few times before he urged you to further bend over the desk, slicking his hot, needy length between your thighs. You squeezed your legs together, trying to roll your hips into him--and he grunted, muscles tightening while he slicked himself on your sex.

"Do you feel what you do to me?" he murmured, the strain in his voice practically palpable as he gripped your hips hard enough to bruise. "You’re the only girl I can't fucking resist."

Your lids fluttered. "Tom..."

The words brought a wave of heat crashing over your body, and you whimpered, cunt clenching as he directed the head of his cock toward your entrance, giving your ass a light slap with his free hand. Without wasting another second, he pushed into your core, his thick girth stretching you open with a sweet sting.

"Fuck," he groaned, apparently unable to help himself, his breath washing warm over the back of your neck. "Mm--you’re so fucking tight."

You whimpered, walls clenching around him as he inched himself deeper and deeper inside your heat, giving you the chance to adjust to his size. Your legs trembled, heart pounding in your chest as his free hand stealthily crept around, ascending the front of your body. It found your throat, clamping around it with just enough pressure to induce a dizzying haze in your head.

Once he'd sheathed himself fully inside your pussy, he paused, lips pressed against your ear as he pulled you up and against him.

"You still think you can handle me, princess?" He almost groaned, his body pulsating with restraint, one that was faltering further by the second. "If you think you can't-"

"No! I can handle it," you cut him off, desperation flooding your tone. "Fuck me--ruin me...whatever you want just please let me fucking cum for you."

With a low groan, he pulled out about an inch, immediately snapping his hips as he slammed back in, and you yelped, the head of his cock meeting your cervix, a dull ache flooding through you.

"Are you sure?" He purred, arrogance flooding his tone once again, as if he already anticipated you would regret those words. As if he knew he exceeded what you were prepared to handle. "Because once I start...I won't be able to control myself...not in a pussy this tight and fucking wet for me..."

"I'll be fine. Just...just fuck me," you hissed, feeling his grip on your throat tightening, your cunt desperate for release. You knew it was going to hurt, but you didn't care, you needed to be fucked. "Don’t fucking stop for anything."

"Mhm," he hummed, nipping at your neck. "That's what I like to hear."

Almost immediately, Tom began to move, meeting your request with eager anticipation. He was so big, so strong, so dominant, his cock fucking you deeper than you could have ever imagined. It only took a single quick thrust before he was rocking hard into you, hands clutching tighter at your neck and hip. You would have been more worried about the loud moans emanating from your chest if you weren't so focused on the sound of smacking skin, and his audible, ragged breath. But the harder he pounded you, the less you cared, body submitting to the resolution of a fortnight's longing.

The desk creaked and groaned with each rhythmic movement, the head of his cock meeting your cervix with almost every single thrust. His hand shifted from your throat and clamped over your mouth, muffling all of your squeals and moans and whimpers under the expanse of his smooth palm. His free hand slithered around to find your clit, wasting absolutely no time before connecting with the swollen nub and numbing the pain his cock was causing.

"Fuck, that's it," he purred, his breath a ragged snarl in your ear, almost completely unrecognizable. "You're doing so good, taking me so fucking deep."

Another sharp jerk and he hit your cervix hard, forcing a stifled wail into his hand. He groaned in your ear, increasing the pace on your clit, but the sensations were almost too much, and you found yourself trying to shift the angle, squirming against the desk to try and catch a break. In this midst of this, Tom didn't seem to notice or care. He just kept pounding into you, driving you toward orgasm even as the pain continued to steal your breath.

Finally, you sobbed, unable to stop the tears as each thrust sent fresh waves of agony through you, helpless against his powerful assault. Feeling the dampness hit his hand, Tom finally relented, only slightly, slowing the pace of his trusts.

"Shit…I broke you already, huh princess?" he growled in your ear, his teeth nipping at your pulse. "Good. That's what you fucking asked for--to take whatever I give you."

He released your mouth, hand falling to massage your tits as his fingers remained merciless on your clit, your pussy squeezing and pulsing while he built your climax at an alarming rate. You tried to breathe through your nose to hide your panting and gasping, pleasure peaking, lids squeezing shut when you felt your body ready to break against him.

"Tom-" you gasped, vision swirling behind damp lids as you squeezed them shut. "Tom, please-"

"Just wait," he hummed into your ear while you both shook with the power of his hips. "Be a good girl and hold off for me."

He pulled you even closer, your bodies moving as one as he pumped into you, drawing gentle lines over your nub. His teeth sank into your shoulder with an intensity that bordered on primal, releasing a garbled growl against your skin. It felt as if he teetered on the edge of control, the immense pleasure threatening to unleash a raw and unbridled side of him.

If this was him holding back, you were admittedly fucking scared to find out what he’s like when he’s not.

In the midst of that, you were trembling, mewling, quivering--your entire body shaking as you tried to ignore the heat coiling in your core, threatening to burst with every passing second. His free hand left your chest and latched onto your hip, holding you steady in place.

"Tom!" Your scream echoed, jaw slack with desperation coursing through every fiber. The plea spilled from your lips, unable to endure this for even a moment longer. "Please! Please-please!"

"Scream my name when you cum," he demanded, his lips pressed against your ear as he fucked you deep, completely lost in pleasure now. "Fucking scream it."

It was taking all of your strength to hold back your climax as you nodded. "Can I please-"

"Yes," he snarled, cutting you off. "Cum all over this fucking cock."

As if entirely on command, pleasure coursed through every single inch of your body, and with each thrust, the intensity multiplied. Your fingers gripped tightly onto the desk, your toes curling with pure ecstasy as your long-denied orgasm finally fucking erupted, hitting you like a shot to the gut.

You shattered. “Fuck! Tom! Oh, fuck-“

"Fuck me-" Tom muttered under his breath, his own eyes squeezed shut, his grip on your hip almost painful. "That's it--you feel so fucking good..."

Your cunt clamped down around his cock, milking him while he drove deeper and deeper into you, pushing himself through your aftershocks. Tom's movements became erratic, and his hips bucked hard, revealing his struggle to restrain himself until he knew you were fully past your high. He grunted, the sound deep and animalistic as he continued to pound into you, his face contorted in a mixture of ecstasy and determination.

You felt his grip tighten on your waist, digging his nails into your skin until he too finally erupted, pouring his cum deep inside your cunt, his lungs sputtering as he buried his face into the crook of your neck.

In the aftermath, the two of you took a long, silent moment to regain composure before daring to move. After your pulses had somewhat balanced out, Tom withdrew, slowly moving to adjust himself back to some form of modesty. Your breath came in pants, chest heaving, and your ass still tingled from the earlier onslaught. The intensity of the encounter left you both sated and oddly content.

As you slowly spun around, meeting Tom's eyes, a sly grin played on your lips. "I can't believe you denied me for so long...I've wanted you for years, and-“

"I wanted you to be sure," he stated flatly, re-latching his belt. "You know I don't do casual."

You huffed. "You don't do commitment either."

"For you, I will," he declared, his gaze briefly flickering to your lips. "Like I said, I don't share."

You smirked, rolling your eyes. "How could I want anyone else after that?"

"Figured." His own lips teased a smirk in response, and he shook his head in amusement. "Let's get to those questions, shall we?"

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agirlsguidetolove · 8 months

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OBSESSED

pairings: draco malfoy x fem!gryffindor!reader, platonic!golden trio x reader.

word count: .9k

summary: Draco Malfoy was your least favorite person in the world, and you thought the feeling was mutual. What happens when you realize he’s actually obsessed with you?

part 1

Hogsmeade was your all time favorite place, especially in winter. Dressed in your favorite patterned scarf, big black jacket, long tights, and black boots, you felt warm and cozy. You and Hermione have your arms draped around each other’s shoulders as the two of you exit the Three Broomsticks, the taste of Butterbeer still on your tongue.

The two of you giggle at who knows what, stumbling from how hard you’re laughing. The slight falling of snowflakes doesn’t effect your mood, you watch as one lands on your nose as you and Hermione come down from your fit of giggles, choosing to focus on what you guys came here for; Christmas shopping for the boys.

Harry and Ron were a pain in your arse, but that didn’t mean they two weren’t simple. They wanted quidditch gear for when the season starts up again in spring. Easy as pie for you and your seemingly infinite money.

You and Hermione’s feet leave footprints in the snow, it crunching beneath your boots as you walk to Spintwitches Quidditch Supplies. Your smile seems untouchable as you walk with a pep in your step, staring down at your shoes. When you look up your smile falters, a frown threatening your lips at the sight of him.

White blond hair, a tight hoodie and a jacket thrown over that. Malfoy stands with Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott on either of his sides. He leans against the wall of Honeydukes that leads you down into an alley. He nods along to whatever Nott was saying, clearly not paying attention. His eyes drift from his friends to yours.

Draco Malfoy is, simply put, your least favorite person in the entire world. There are no words to describe the absolutely anger the boy causes you. His arrogance and disrespect towards you and your friends is a mood sourer, and he was ruining your amazing day with just one look at you. His effect on you was irritating, and you could feel your own heart race and hear your breathe hitch when his blue eyes met yours. Fuck.

Your warm eyes turn cold in an instant as you watch Malfoy smirk. He reaches a hand up to ruffle his already messy hair as he starts to walk over to you and Hermione.

Too busy glaring at Malfoy as he saunters over, you miss the knowing look Nott and Zabini share with Hermione.

“Just ignore him,” Hermione urges. You give her a look, a pout plastered on your lips. She rolls her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest.

Easier said then done.

“Well, well,” Malfoy taunts. He’s grinning over at you, hands tucked into his pockets as he tilts his head at you, not even bothering to glance at Hermione. “Look who escaped the clutches of her boyfriend,” he spit, the words directed toward Harry, even though he wasn’t your boyfriend. “Never thought I’d see the day.”

Your eye roll is immediate. “Why don’t you mind your own business, Malfoy?” you sneer, before sarcastically saying, “Surely a man like yourself has much better matters to attend to then bothering some Gryffindors.”

Malfoy’s smirk deepens as his eyes flicker down your body for a moment. “Don’t cut yourself short. I prefer it here.”

“Can’t we go, Y/N. Please.” Hermione tugs on your arm, already dragging you up the hill, away from the boy who seemed to never be capable of staying away from you.

“Yes, please,” you groaned, throwing your head back and rolling your eyes as you linked yours and Hermione’s arm together.

You can hear Malfoy’s footsteps behind you as he hurries to catch up to you, desperate for whatever he gains from annoying you. “Running away so soon? I knew you were a coward,” he exclaims.

That makes you pause, turning around, eyebrows scrunched in aggravation. “Excuse me?” you scoff, releasing Hermione’s hand and rushing to where the boy stood. “I’ll punch you in the face just like I did third year, don’t doubt that.”

His eyes sparkle as he looks down at you, your threat bouncing off of him. “Believe me, I don’t doubt you. Never have.”

What in the bloody hell was he on about?

”Mate,” Nott called from behind him, deep voiced annoyed with his friend. He raises his brows at Malfoy. “Let’s go.”

He shrugs at his friends, sticking his hands into his pocket. He smirks at you, tongue coming to press into his cheeks. His cheeks are red from the cold (or, maybe, from his raging crush on you).

“I’ll see you around, L/N.”

“Screw you, Malfoy,” you sneer, hair whipping as you trudge up the hill to meet Hermione where she stands, looking at the pair of you with an unimpressed expression.

When you make it to her, you link your arms together again. You smile at her. “Shall we?”

Hermione rolls her eyes, but nods.

When the two of you begin to walking, you stick your tongue out over your shoulder, catching a glimpse of Malfoy still standing where he last stood, watching you.

Draco doesn’t bother trying to hide his smile.

not proofread 🥰

xx, lovey🫀

#draco malfoy #dracomalfoy #draco x reader #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy x y/n #harry potter #harry potter x reader #theo nott x reader #hermione x reader

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imjustagirlinthisworlddd · 4 months

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I'M SO HAPPYY YOU OPENED REQUESTS !! can you do a draco malfoy x reader scenarios? something like 'draco malfoy who would carry you when your sleepy'

something like that pleaseee, thankyou love <3

hiii and yes ofcourse! enjoy reading!! <3

draco malfoy who would nervously ask you to go to the yule ball with him. draco malfoy who almost tripped on the stairs when he sees you in a white dress at the yule ball. draco malfoy who believes he's the only human being on earth that's allowed to insult you (he secretly loves you). draco malfoy who told crabbe and goyle to punch him a little on purpose because madam pomfrey won't let him see you unless he's also injured. draco malfoy who covers his whole face whenever you fluster him. draco malfoy that thinks of your laugh is angelic. draco malfoy that get's irritated when you laugh with someone else. draco malfoy who holds your chin between his thumb and index finger when he wants your attention. draco malfoy who would ask you if you just want to vent or if you want advice from him or even both, instead of making assumptions. draco malfoy who blushes at the tips of his ears every time you smile at him. draco malfoy who gifts you something because you mention liking it once. draco malfoy who lie his body on you when he's upset, his head on your stomach and his body between your legs as you drag your fingers along his blonde hair. draco malfoy who always need to have you close enough to touch you. draco malfoy who would cuddle up to you for hours. draco malfoy who would hold your hands in public. draco malfoy who can't sleep in his bed without you in his arms. draco malfoy who prefers kisses against your forehead rather than lip kisses when you're both cuddling. draco malfoy who keeps a box full of everything you give him even if it's the stupidest thing you've ever give to him. draco malfoy who admires you when your sleeping in his arms and pecks your cheek lightly before he sleeps. draco malfoy who carries you over his shoulder and refuses to put you down anytime you try to sleep on a different bed after you both argued.

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anjwrites · 10 days

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Men who play guitar are fine 🫶🫶

#lorenzo zurzolo #benjamin wadsworth #tom felton #louis partridge #theodore nott #mattheo riddle #dracomalfoy #lorenzo berkshire #slytherin boys #guitarist

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deeseelovez · 5 months

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dress

draco malfoy x slytherin!reader (can be read as any size or skin color)

Summary: you are wearing a short dress, and nobody can take their eyes off you, which makes your boyfriend, Draco Malfoy, really jealous.

Warnings: smut. innocent! reader. possessive draco. daddy kink. dom!draco. jealous draco. they kind of start doing stuff in public that is very short-lived. thigh riding.

Slytherin's common room is bussing with music from the party; they celebrate the win against Gryffindor. Draco Malfoy had caught the golden snitch, and his girlfriend, Y/n, could not have been more proud of him.

"You have to wear this, Y/n/n," Pansy says, pulling out a dress.

It's short, a purple color, and it perfectly covered her curves. She was showing off her cleavage, and her ass looked incredible.

"Are you sure? It's a bit short?" She says, trying it put down.

"Trust me, Draco will go feral."

"Like a cat?"

"Just trust me, would ya?" Pansy smirks and zips up the dress for her.

Draco's already downstairs with his friend, he was chugging down a drink with Blaise and Theo with everyone else dancing around them.

"Whoa," Blaise says, his eyes set on the stairs, "Draco, look." She says pointing at Y/n who is looking around the room.

"Bloody hell," Theo whispers, looking her up and down, and Draco's eyes are wide as he stares at her in the dress.

Draco thought she looked beautiful, she is beautiful but as he looks beside him as his best mates were gawking at his girlfriend, he felt a very familar feeling creeping up his back.

"Love!" Y/n shouts going over to Draco; she wraps her arms around his neck as she does, and the dress hikes up, showing off the red lacy thong she had on, "You did so good at your game." She giggles.

"Thank ya, darling." He says, looking her up and down.

"Do ya like it?" She says, doing a twirl.

"You always look beautiful," He assures her; he moves his hands to pull the skirt down a little.

"I want to dance," She says, going to the dance floor with Pansy.

Pansy smiles and the two girls start dancing together, soon a pair of boys were dancing with them. Y/n thought nothing of it, thinking they were just being friendly. She danced with the boy who was named Marty, they were just innocently dancing until she felt his hands on her hips, moving them.

"Whoa," She says, moving away from him.

"What you've got a boyfriend?"

"As a matter of fact, she does." Draco says coming out of no where, it arm going around his girlfriend waist, protectively.

"Oh, sorry-"

"Just fuck off." Draco says, turning around facing his girlfriend. He had a stern look on his face, "Are you trying to get my attention?"

"I was just dancing when-"

"Trying to get me jealous? Wearing a short dress where I can see your ass, trying to get every guy in here hard?"

"What?" Y/n looks up at Draco, confusion in her eyes, "I didn't mean to do any of that." Her voice starts to whine, and her eyes look to the side, Draco put his fingers under her chin.

"Baby, no whining. You've got all my attention now." Draco says, leading her to the loveseat and they sit together.

"Daddy, am I in trouble?" She asks, she straddles him as she sits.

"Not if you do as I say." Y/n feels a shiver go down her spin as Draco's fingers played with the edge of her skirt.

"I'll do anything, Drac. I want to be your good girl." She leans forward and whispers into his ear.

"Everyone thinks you're so innocent," Draco says, he moves to where her crotch was connecting to his thigh, "I'm the only one knows how much of a dirty slut you are."

"Only for you," She says, Draco's hands start to slightly move her hips.

"Then be a good dirty slut, and cum on my thigh-"

"Daddy there are peo-"

"Call it your punishment then for wearing such a little skirt."

"You make feel good-" She whimpers

"Nobody else can make you feel this way-" The touch feeling of his pants and soft fabric of her silk panties made a certain feeling go up her spine.

A moan comes from her mouth, "Quite, those noises are for my ears only." He says looking at her with those pale blue eyes and she nods.

She moves her hips along with the slow rythem he was putting her in, and she could feel the delsious feeling of an orgam bubbling inside of her.

"I'm going to cum," She whispers, and Draco moves his thigh, and moves thigh up and down, "Oh, Merlin." She whispers and Draco heart the familiar high pitched noise but this time Y/n had closed her mouth leaving it muffled but he wanted to hear that sound over again, he wanted to hear it, he wanted everyone to hear it and for everyone to know it was him who made her make that noise.

"Fuck, you're going to be the death of me. Let's get you into bed, baby."

"Please.' She says, as they go up the stairs ot the dorm, Draco stops her and pushes her againest the wall.

"You're going to be a good slave, tonight, right? Cum as many times as I want you too, maybe. then you'll remember that I own you, right?"

~~~

should I finish this?

#dracomalfoy #draco lucius malfoy #harry potter #draco malfoy smut #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x plus size reader #draco malfoy x you #lightening era

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the-colourful-witch · 6 months

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✨💀Draco Malfoy💀✨

It was time for the next phase. It took me a week to try and figure out what I wanted Draco to look like. I have seen fan art of him for years and I always think, and don’t shoot me for saying it, it’s not really Draco… 🫣

This is someone who grew up being incredibly spoiled and entitled, who thinks the world should revolve around him and is appalled when it doesn’t. I truly believe he is capable of redemption after the second wizarding war, but before that he is not a good person. I grew up in a city with a big university where a lot of stuck up rich boys go to college and I wanted Draco to resemble them a little. With their aristocratic haircuts and the whole ‘sticking your nose up in the air because you’re above all these peasants’ attitude.

So, here is my version of Draco Malfoy; mommy’s boy with daddy issues, but he does look good in his tailored clothes :) And I can totally see him turned into a ferret with his pointed face.

I also read a post a while ago that mentioned Draco is actually very good at school and has a flair for drama and creativity, which I totally agree with. All his iconic moments in the books just scream drama queen! I mean, he wrote a song for the entire Slytherin house to sing and he acted out Harry’s fainting fits for his friends... He could have a career in the arts, for all we know.

I wanted to incorporate that a little bit in this illustration; the attitude✨

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drami1 · 8 months

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Hospital wing👌

I wanted to post this even though it’s far from finished

Fanfic: Breath Mints / Battle Scars by @onyx-and-elm

I will try to finish the drawing this week but it probably won’t happen(:

#dramione #fanart #fiction #painting #draco malfoy #hermione granger #dracomalfoy #hermionegrandger #dramionefanart #actor #dramione fandom #dramione fanart #breathmintsbattlescars #master has given dobby a sock #dobbyisfree #harry potter #hogwarts #dramione fanfic #onyxandelm

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madnesseyes · 8 months

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She was a non-active member of the Order of the Phoenix and did not fight.

#ai art gallery #aiartist #dramione #hermione granger #dramioneart #draco malfoy #hermione fanart #harry potter #dracomalfoy #harry potter fandom #manacled

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pearlfeline · 8 months

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sore loser

pairing: draco malfoy x reader

word count: 1,450

summary: reader gets jealous and draco falls harder during a practice duel. reader can be interpreted as any house but uses she pronouns.

a/n: i haven't written in years like before the pandemic. i deleted my old blog and had no inspiration until months ago lol i started this blog just to read but i started writing this a while back and i finished it last night. not proofread. if the beginning is horrid i apologize i didn't want to delete it and start over because i know i'll never start up again. enjoy the little fluff i threw together.

Dueling was an essential part of the Hogwarts curriculum. Every other week, there was a practice session down in the dungeons. Mats laid out on the floor and splayed on the walls. You hated it. Especially when it was in teams. Seriously, in what circumstances did students need to fight in pairs?

You weren’t known for your dueling skills and when your duels prolonged the average amount of time, you panicked and tapped out immediately.

Today was especially nerve wracking. Dueling in pairs, against Draco, and he’s partnered with the obnoxious girl who has it out for you.

She was clearly eating this up.

Draco was not. He did not like how obvious her intentions were. The shoving him every time she laughed, the raised pitch in her voice only when speaking to him, the way she says his name differently, all of it made him grimace internally. She was like a fly in his ear. Insufferable.

“An easy win.” She looks you up and down, smirking.

She looks over to Draco, attempting to exchange eye contact, but he was looking at you, with anguish. He didn’t hold his gaze for long as he adjusted his sleeves before getting in position.

Neville was your duel partner today. You could tell by his face he was utterly terrified. You kind of felt bad for befriending Draco, seeing what he did to the students around you and how he talked about them. But the side of him you’re not sure anyone else got to see, they don’t know about, the one you stumbled on accidentally while trying to use the washrooms and ended up staying on the cold floor for an hour after curfew just listening.

“Remember what we learned Neville.” You nod at him curtly. He sends you a look of appreciation under his worried gaze. Where would you two be without the extra training?

During the duel, you mostly try taking your anger out on the girl who targets you constantly for no reason. You didn’t even remember her stupid name. There are lots of girls like her. She was just the one who decided to be bold for the semester. Defending yourself makes you a target around the school for certain, but you didn't care enough to stop.

Dueling admittedly can be therapeutic when you have the right attitude. She was knocked down on the mat, clearly taken aback. You had shot spell after spell at her, almost to see how quickly you were able to possibly and properly get spells out of your wand.

Draco had to assist his dueling partner by default, but it made you unexpectedly feel sick seeing him trying to heal her.

“…Get up.” He holds her up by her arm. His gaze is anywhere else but around you.

You were searching for answers inside his eyes, growing more irritated the further he avoided you.

Neville gets his shot at revenge as well, continuously shooting at Draco while he tries to assist his dueling partner.

It was one of those matches that were long and painful. Both sides were equally as good, even if you hated to admit it.

It wasn't long until you’ve seen enough.

“Confringo!” You counter with a spell that bounced off the two of them back and forth until they’re both on the ground.

When the smoke cleared, your eyes flickered to the other end of the platform. Draco didn’t even look upset that he lost. Just surprised you would even use such a spell.

“I was getting sort of tired of using expelliarmus so frequently…” Neville blinked a few times, finally drawing his wand down.

“Freak!” The girl lays for a little too long expecting Draco to pick her up from the floor. He doesn’t.

“Is that even allowed?” She haggardly gets up on her own, dusting off her robes.

“It is.” Draco mutters before sauntering back to the group of students.

It was honestly one of the first duels you had won in a while, there was a newfound confidence in your stride.

It was free period. You decided to take the scenic route. To just relax outside,

“Came out to frolic in the grass did you?” Draco’s hair was completely restyled back to normal, despite the duel having just ended. He replaced his tethered robes with fresh ones and had enough time to wipe his complexion clean.

There was a playful smile on his face, one he didn’t show to most.

“After you lost, shouldn’t I be saying all these snobbish remarks now?” You look up at the sky to avoid his glance. Because if you did, you knew your smile would grow bigger than you would’ve liked.

He scoffs, setting his bag down on the ground.

“Don’t get all excited about this now,”

You watched as he sat down to reach your eye level.

“next time I won’t let you win.” Draco confidently sighed.

“Your pride would never let you purposefully lose.” You remark.

“Maybe it would for certain people.” He argues.

If this is what you thought it was, what an awful attempt at flirting.

“Either way, I won fair Malfoy.” You brush off his last statement.

Draco liked how you said his name. It sounded so familiar and genuine. It wasn't used in a hostile way.

It was hard to hide his growing smile.

“Why are you smiling…” You turn away.

“Is it so fun being a loser?” You say, back completely turned around to face him.

“I only lost because you flung me and that girl across the room!”

“She’s stupid! Of course I’m going to fling her away! You’re stupid too! Stop picking on people.”

Draco looks down while grinning at his feet.

“I’ll try.”

“Don’t just say it. Really do it.” You kick a rock in his direction.

“I get enough criticism for talking to you. Even though it’s all from you not being able to just leave me be.”

“Obviously you don’t care for what others are saying about me.” Draco shuffles the rock in between his feet, passing it back to you.

“Because I’ve seen otherwise to disprove the rumors.” You remarked.

“Before I start telling people you’re actually nice, you should start giving people a reason to believe me!” You toss the rock, watching it bounce off Draco's shoulder.

"Ow! You're the violent one!"

“I’m not going around claiming something that nobody will believe me for. I will not make a fool of myself Malfoy, not in that way. I'm already being prejudiced around here, no thanks to you.”

Draco was not known for his emotional intelligence. In fact, he might be the least comforting person you had ever talked to, but he had a feeling in between the insults, you were telling him how he really was capable of being a good person.

Draco let out a little smile, trying his best not to laugh at you.

Which was difficult because he had a habit of laughing at whatever or whoever he wanted to laugh at.

"This school is tolerable with you around." He said while swallowing whatever dry chuckles were left in his system.

"I'm only around because you follow me everywhere."

Draco slumped over, pushing his weight on your bag. Were his advances, seen as bullying? Of course it was. He was rude to everyone. How were you supposed to figure out he didn't mean it as much when it came to you? He didn't even really know he liked you not that long ago. Though, ever since that epiphany, he can't get you out of his head. There's the urge for more. To see you more. Sneak in more of you throughout the day.

"Keep bothering her, it makes you happier than when you bother others."

"I can't wait to see how she reacts to what I say next."

"I need her to see my new quidditch uniform."

All were stupid thoughts, yes, but they all worked. You were never mean enough to be hostile towards him, and honestly seeing him slip up and forget to keep his tough exterior up every once in a while was rewarding. You would never say it out loud but it made you feel special.

Draco lazily picks off blades of grass peaking through the cords attached to your bag. He had finally run out of things to say to bother you.

"...You aren't going to defend yourself?"

He glances up at you for a moment before shaking his head.

He thought, one day he'll be able to just confess and maybe pull you into a swift kiss right after. Of course, you'll say yes and kiss back and all of that stuff. He'll worry about it later.

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imtakenbytheview · 25 days

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To All the Wizards I've Loved Before — Dramione fanfic on AO3

💌🦉📬💕🪄

TATWILB, a Dramione Eighth Year adaptation of To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before, is now complete on AO3.

“𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘧—” 𝘔𝘢𝘭𝘧𝘰𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘴, 𝘵𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘯𝘦𝘵 𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘣 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥. “𝘞𝘩��𝘵 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘩𝘪𝘮?”

“𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵?”

“𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘧 𝘸𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘸𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘰𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳? 𝘑𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦. 𝘕𝘰𝘵 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘞𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦𝘭. 𝘌𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺.”

If you like love letters, fake dating, a Crookshanks/Draco friendship, and post-war fluff (and, of course, the original movie/book), you’re in good company. 🫶

Cover 🎨: drawn by hand in Procreate + Canva + Waterlogue (which is fantastic + doesn’t use GAI)

#dramione #harry potter fanfiction #hp fanfic #dracomalfoy #dracoxhermione #dramioneedit #dhr #draco malfoy #hermione granger #dramionefanfic #dramionefanfiction #hermione x draco #dramione fanfic #dramione fanfiction #to all the boys i've loved before

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slytherinslut0 · 1 month

Text

mattheo riddle. let me fuck you.

PAIRING: Mattheo Riddle x Gryffindor!Reader

SUMMARY: worried that mattheo was just going to use you for sex and leave, you had him agree to courting you first until you felt you were ready to take it to the next level. after months of this, mattheo finally can’t take it anymore, and lands himself on his knees at your feet.

WORD COUNT: 4.1k.

TAGS: 18+, SMUT MDNI, Degradation, Praise, Absolute Feralism, Begging, Exhibitionism, Overstimulation, Multiple Orgasm, PIV, Semi-Public Sex (implied cloaking charm), Dirty Talk, Swearing, Oral (f receiving), Body Worship, Slight Breeding Kink.

Courage. Bravery. Honesty--all traits that your house, Gryffindor, valued and honoured.

However, conspicuously absent from that list, was stupidity. A trait that you certainly seemed to posses a fucking abundance of these days.

To delve into the specifics, you possessed stupidity in the form of pure idiocy that took root when you began messing around with a certain curly haired Slytherin boy. This curly haired Slytherin boy just so happened to come from a group of assholes who seemingly detested your friends as well as your own bloody existence, having been nothing shy of full blown enemies for majority of your time spent at Hogwarts.

And yet, somehow, one thing led to another with this certain boy, and before you knew it you'd found yourself in a certain situation you'd never have imagined in a million damn years.

A courtship.

Securing Mattheo Riddle's commitment to court you exclusively, with a firm agreement to abstain from sex until you felt unequivocally ready, baffled your understanding. This arrangement was meticulously crafted out of a deep-seated concern that, left unchecked, he might merely try fuck you and then vanish without a trace.

He was known for doing that.

The rules of the courtship were a safeguard for your heart, a decision rooted in self-preservation, rather than any preoccupation with your virginity or lack thereof.

The harsh reality was simple – you desired Mattheo Riddle, despite every instinct screaming that you shouldn't. To shield your heart from potential wreckage, you implemented a set of rules governing the extent to which Mattheo could advance in your relationship. The decision to progress to the next level, if and when you deemed him deserving, rested solely in your hands.

It was a fool proof plan. No way for you to get hurt.

However, to absolutely no one's surprise, Mattheo wasn't a fan of this plan –not when he reluctantly agreed to it, and certainly not now. Not as you were seated across from him in a dimly lit corner of the library, the top buttons of your white button-up uniform shirt straining against the curve of your tits, your tie a loosened mess around your neck, and your burgundy pleated skirt way too fucking short for any bloody blokes sanity to remain intact.

Mattheo had counted the fucking days since the two of you started messing around, each instance of shared intimacy without crossing that final threshold chipping away at his restraint like relentless erosion. He wasn't fucking sure how much he had left in him.

"Did you finish this one, Matt?" Your voice rang out as a soft whisper, the hum of it snapping Mattheo from his wandering thoughts.

Forcing himself to meet your eyes and not linger on the buttons of your shirt just begging for fucking relief, he nodded. "Yeah. This one too."

Mattheo lifted a divination book, a testament to the exhaustive night the two of you had spent cramming for tomorrow's exam. Weary, you gave a nod, pushing up from the desk.

"Let's put these away, yeah?" you suggested gently.

Mattheo's throat parched as he observed you tugging down your skirt, a belated realization of how perilously high it had inched past your hips. With an innocent effort to conceal the expanse of those enticingly thick thighs – the same thighs he enthusiastically found himself nestled between every damn night – you fueled a growing heat within him. Mattheo cleared his throat awkwardly, giving a nod before pushing himself up as well.

As the two of you retreated into a dimmer, more secluded section of the library, you bent at the hips to return your book to its shelf. Unmindful of Mattheo's intense gaze, exhausted yet persistent, you began chattering. "I think there might be one more we can skim through, if you're still up for it-"

That thought abruptly dissolved as two sizable, calloused hands sought out your body, gripping anywhere and everywhere they could. An instinctive flinch involuntarily escaped you, but the sensation of those hands delicately tracing your thighs swiftly eased your tension. A trail of burning flames surged up your torso, and you instinctively straightened against him.

"For fucks sake." Mattheo's voice resonated as a low, deep growl in your ear, so intense you questioned whether he meant for you to hear it. His fingers clawed at the buttons of your shirt, nearly tearing it open in a frenzy. "What the fuck are you doing to me."

"Matt-" your hands came up, finding his. The two of you had certainly messed around in a lot of questionable places, but the library? At midnight on a weekday? "W-what are you-"

That sentence was abruptly cut short as Mattheo's lips attacked your neck at the same exact moment he slipped a hand through your now unbottoned shirt and roughly cupped one of your tits, twirling his thumb over your nipple. An entire body shudder rumbled through your limbs and the softest of moans escaped your lips, filling the charged air between you.

Music to Mattheo's fucking ears.

"Let me fuck you." It wasnt necessarily a demand but more of a plea. The desperation in his tone was fucking palpable. He sunk his teeth into the side of your neck as he pressed his hips against your ass, the entirety of his erection jabbing into your back. "Let me fucking fuck you."

You gasped, lids fluttering in an involuntary response as his hand switched to your other breast now, kneading and groping and squeezing with just as much fervour, more even. When you moaned again, he growled against your neck, pulling off you momentarily just to spin you around to face him.

His hands seized your hips, pressing you back against the shelf. "What is it, princess? What the fuck do you need from me?"

You scarcely had a moment to absorb the question, accompanied by the raw, desperate vulnerability in his tone, before he surged into action again. Long fingers slipped beneath the waistband of your skirt, while the other hand ascended to your jaw, gently tilting your head back to meet his intense gaze.

"I've been so fucking good, have I not?" His fingers inched excruciatingly slow over your mound, taking his time to tease you for all he could, watching every subtle ministration of your face as he went. "I've stayed out of fights. Haven't partied. I've been so fucking loyal..."

You swallowed, acknowledging the sincerity in his words. Yes, all those things were undeniably true. Mattheo had transformed into a different man in recent times. While you were drawn to him for the chaotic soul he was, the fact that he willingly opted out of party nights to spend time with you hadn't escaped your notice in the slightest.

Mattheo noted your silence. "Was it the drugs? Because you know I quit those."

Long fingers crept toward your slit, one finger gliding along and coating itself in your slick. Gods, if you weren't already fucking dripping for him.

You tried to shake your head. "No, Matty..."

His hold on your jaw tightened as he felt how fucking wet you already were. He snuffed a groan in his throat. How a little fucking Gryffindor could manage to have him in such a chokehold was beyond his comprehension.

"Is it the smokes?" He tilted his head, watching your eyes. "Because, fuck--I'll light every last one into flames right here in this fucking isle. I'll use the ashes to sear your fucking name onto my skin--just give me the goddamn words."

As his finger connected with your clit, drawing quick frantic circles over it, you mewled, your hands squeezing his biceps as your brain could only muster the comprehension to say one fucking word.

"Mattheo-"

"Mhm." Mattheo groaned, pressing his lips to your temple, his hand on your jaw slithering down to clasp a firm hold around your neck. "Yeah, baby, that's my name, fuck...say it again."

His pace on your clit increased, your head spun with carnal lust. Intoxicated. "Mattheo-"

"Yeah, good girl. Fuck--so fucking good." The reply came within seconds, along with the release of your throat, his hand gliding back to tangle in your hair. "Come on, baby, you know I'm not in this for the sex...you know I want way more than that."

If you hadn't already been rendered helpless and speechless from his relentless pace on your clit, you would have scoffed at that. But instead, all you could do was attempt to breathe the words out between your moans.

Your lids squeezed shut, fingernails digging into the fabric of his uniform. "I-I don't know that, actually."

"Fuck." Mattheo dipped low, his finger thrusting into your cunt before you could even realize it had, his thumb continuing the pace on your clit. The way your wet walls gripped his finger as he pumped it in and out of you was enough to send him into pure fucking desperation. He sucked in a deep inhale, gathering himself. "How do you figure that, hm?"

"Because-ah-here you are practically fucking begging me to let you fuck me." Your back arched, your legs trembling. If it wasn't for Mattheo's looming frame practically pinning you against this shelf, you were certain you'd be a pile of limbs on the floor at his feet. "You're just...t-telling me what I want to hear, Matty."

"I'm not." His pace increased, his brows knit tight. He didn't like that response. Not one fucking bit. His lips found your ear, his grip on your hair intensifying. "You don't understand how fucking bad I want you--how fucking bad I want every single last inch of you. Your laugh, your smile, your wit, your heart, your fucking soul. You haunt me every moment I'm awake. Even when I'm asleep you're there, fucking torturing me. I dream about waking up next to you. I dream about growing old with you. I dream about worshipping you, pleasuring you. I dream about pumping this perfect cunt full of my cum. No woman has ever fucking done this to me. I'm insane for you. For fucks sake please let me fucking fuck you princess. I need you so fucking bad. All of you."

"Gods," was all you could say, not a single shred of coherence left in your brain, not as those words bounced around inside your head in rhythmic hums synced with the movement of his fingers. You were right there. "Matt--fuck, I'm gonna cum-"

"Mhm, go on baby," he cooed with a softness that seemed to fray against the edges of desperation, his voice nearly shredding against his vocal cords. How he was keeping himself together was truly fucking impressive. "You're so fucking good for me. Such a pretty fucking pussy, hm?"

"Yours," you breathed out just as your vision blurred, your entire body shuddering around his fingers. "It's all yours!"

A choked gasp slipped from your lips, swiftly muffled by the plush entirety of Mattheo's mouth. His tongue invaded past your teeth, meticulously exploring your gums as if etching the details into memory. The sound of his groan reverberated through you, but it soon became a mere echo as your ears rang and your orgasm charged, coursing through every inch of your being, leaving your head spinning and your body trembling against the shelf.

Mattheo withdrew his lips from yours, sensing the aftershocks of your orgasm rippling through you, sure in the fact you had regained enough composure to remain quiet without his help. He grazed his teeth along your jawline, warm breath bathing your skin as both of you panted in unison, bodies pressed and fighting for breath as he slowly pulled his finger from your cunt and teased over your clit with slow, sensual swirls.

"Let me fuck you," he repeated again, softer this time, his voice a whisper as light as a feather in the air. "You said it's mine...you said this pussy belongs to me."

"Yes," you panted, squirming against his hold as he continued his slow teasing strokes over your clit. "I...I did say that...it does..."

"Mm," his dark eyes lingered over your lips before he leaned in slightly, resting his forehead against yours, erratic breaths intermingling. "Please. Fucking please, let me take what's mine."

Mattheo Riddle had gone by many names over the years; an asshole, a delinquent, a rebel--but a man with manners? A man who'd ever had to beg and plead for something he wanted? That was not something you would have ever included in his description. Seeing him like this, completely and openly vulnerable, did something to you. Something you knew you could no longer resist. This was a man you knew you were willing to take risks for, willing to risk getting hurt for. It'd been fucking months. You wanted him. Just as fucking badly as he wanted you.

"I dunno, Matty," you grinned, unable to fight it off even if you tried. "Maybe you should say please again...maybe you should say it on your knees..."

Mattheo huffed, a groan accompanying it.

"Dirty, dirty little thing..." he whispered, pulling his hand from your cunt entirely now, both hands shifting to your hips, gracing them with a feral squeeze. "You really fucking are mine, aren’t you?"

As Mattheo Riddle dropped to his knees at your feet, you were certain the entire world had faded away. You were certain that time no longer existed and that there wasn't a single other living being in the entire expanse of the universe--all there was, across all existing planes of reality, was you and this messy, curly haired boy at your feet, looking up at you with dreamy chocolate eyes, poised to beg and fucking plead for release from his torment.

"Fuck, you're beautiful," his hands trailed a steady path from your hips down your thighs, squeezing and grabbing every inch of flesh he could. "You know that, right?"

You pulled your lip between your teeth, unable to peel your eyes off this boy before you. He was mesmerizing, In all his glory. Every last fucking molecule of him.

"Yes, Matty..." you breathed, your hands clutching at the wooden bookshelf behind you, steadying yourself. "You tell me a thousand times a day."

"Only a thousand? I was aiming for way more than that." Mattheo hummed, wetting his smirk-adorned lips as he brought his mouth to your inner thigh, softly nipping at it. "Guess I have to step my game up, huh?"

You blinked, pulse pounding in your ears. “I-“

“Please, princess…” Mattheo shifted, snapping himself back to the task at hand, nipping at your other thigh now, his voice so soft you almost missed it. His eyes never left yours. “Fucking hell.”

In one swift movement, his hands gripped your thighs and spread them apart, one leg slung over his shoulder as he brought his lips to your already dripping cunt, placing a vulgar kiss to it, tongue delving into your slit, a trembling groan echoing in his throat when he swallowed your wetness.

Your lungs sputtered, head falling back against the shelf--his eyes, in the pits of perversion, watched you, soaking in your speechless delight while he explored each tiny crevice of your cunt. Bliss built inside of you for the second time, blocks of white hot energy, stacking with every second those velvety, full lips massaged your folds. Your mouth fell in an open pant, your hips rocking into his face--his hands moved, sticking your wrists to your hips as he gripped you there.

You struggled to find your breath--oxygen had left the room--and you squeezed your eyes shut, desperate to keep your moans quiet. Your previous orgasm still had you tingling, the stimulation almost, almost too much--but you found yourself climbing toward your second with little effort. Your eyes rolled back, pleasure crashing over you, tiny moans leaving you while he sucked slowly on your clit, engorged and throbbing at his lips.

"Fuck, Mattheo-" you whined, your nails digging into the flesh of your own thighs as his strong grip kept them pinned there. "I'm gonna-fuck-"

Your core thumped with a demand to cum--Mattheo was reining you to a cliff, your desire a wild animal, bucking with abandon and ecstasy.

"Mhm, that's it," he muttered into your flesh. "Let me fucking taste you."

His tongue swirled over your nub, slipping wet circles around it before he groaned and sucked it hard between his teeth. You wailed, cracked, orgasm gushing through you, a geyser, a cascade of ecstasy that left you quaking, your walls spasming at his chin.

There was no more holding back your moans. "Oh--f-fuck!"

Mattheo swallowed your release hungrily, releasing your wrists and clutching your hips to his head, as if the evidence of your pleasure sustained him, laving at you until you squeaked and jerked from sensitivity. With a satisfied gasp, he released you entirely, slowly rising back up to his full height, watching with tethered emotion while you descended from your high.

Without even giving you the chance to process it, he reached down and swiped two fingers along your slit, collecting your cum before bringing it up to your lips and urging it past your teeth.

"That's what I do to you, baby," he cooed, his eyes far less intense than they were before. His free hand brushed the sweat dampened hair away from your forehead, watching as you wrapped your lips around his fingers and worked them clean. "You like that?"

You nodded, heat flashing your face, and Mattheo groaned appreciatively, slowly pulling his fingers from your mouth. His gentle grip found your chin now, drawing your eyes to his.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, "you don't have to-"

You cut him off. "Fuck me, Matty."

Mattheo blinked, and you reached for his belt.

"Please, Mattheo," you clenched, body quaking with need. Even after two orgasms you still wanted more, needed more. You needed him, and now you were the one willing to beg for it. "Please, fuck me."

Almost immediately, Mattheo's eyes darkened, his gaze glossing over with a hunger that spoke volumes far louder than any words ever fucking could. He leaned in slightly, your scent still lingering on his breath.

"You want me inside you? Hm?" He purred, lips grazing over yours. "You want me to fuck you here? Open and exposed for anyone to see?"

You smirked knowingly. The cloaking charm he had cast didn't escape your notice. This boy always had a knack for thinking one step ahead. Yet, the exhilaration of the prospect was just another facet that had initially drawn you to him.

You nodded. "Yes, Mattheo...I need you..."

Mattheo pressed his lips to yours, not wasting another singular second of time as his hands moved to the clasp on his belt, fumbling with it, a low groan escaping him as he pulled his throbbing cock free, gliding his fist over it a few times as his tongue hungrily fought with yours.

Mattheo's hands shifted to your shoulders, spinning you around, your own hands grasping at the shelving in front of you. You felt the warmth of his thick length gliding between your thighs, teasing you, slicking himself in your wetness.

"You're sure you want this?" Mattheo's voice was a soft growl in your ear, his hands grasping at your hips with enough force to bruise. "Fuck, princess, please be fucking sure."

The reaction was immediate. As though he asked you if you needed oxygen to breathe. "Gods, I'm fucking sure, Mattheo. I'm so fucking sure."

"Fuck," he muttered, pressing his face into the crook of your neck, fingernails digging into your flesh, pulling your skirt higher up your torso. "You've got me so fucked up, princess..."

As he slicked his length over your core once more, teasing your entrance, you whimpered. He was so smooth and silky and fucking big...you knew this was going to sting, even after two orgasms, even after he had you dripping down your thighs. Just that thought alone made your pussy clench, you'd do fucking anything to get him inside of you.

"Mattheo..." you whined, your body tensing with each false thrust. "Stop teasing me."

"Shit,” he breathed, easing the head of his length into you now, before slowly pulling out. "I'm teasing myself, baby...I don't know if I'm going to be able to control myself-"

You groaned, shuddering. "Please!"

Mattheo matched your groan with one of his own, and with one smooth movement, he tightened his grip on your hips, tugging you closer before he drove his dick into your cunt, splitting you open with one deep, slow thrust.

"Oh..." he moaned, paused, froze, entire body seemingly turned to stone. The only outward sign of his consciousness was his rapid breath washing over your neck. "...fuck."

You gripped the edges of the shelf with such intensity your knuckles were pale, doing everything within your power to keep quiet. The feeling of him seated inside you like this was everything you'd fucking imagined it to be. Better even. Your entire body was tense with bliss, your walls moulding around him.

Mattheo's lungs sputtered. "Relax...fuck-relax around me, baby..."

"I-" You weren't sure what he meant, your body trembling, your heart pounding in your throat. "Matt-"

"I'm not going to fucking last," Mattheo growled into your ear, the strain in his vocal cords more prominent than ever. "...if you keep squeezing me like that."

You mewled, head falling back against his shoulder as you fought to suck oxygen into your lungs. Mattheo finally began to move inside you; slow, easy strokes in an effort to give you a chance to adjust, feeling your tight walls relaxing around his thick girth, before he pulled out entirely and slammed back in, stuffing you full, groaning as you pulsed around him with each brief pause.

"Fuck...tight fucking pussy...so fucking wet..." he whispered, lips pressed against your ear. "All fucking mine."

Any ounces of restraint Mattheo had managed to maintain prior to this clearly had now been entirely annihilated as he increased his pace, fucking into you like a savage, as though he'd never get to fuck you again. He panted into your ear, groaning, fingernails bruising your thighs while he hammered your cervix with thrust after thrust after thrust. Sputtered curses left him under his breath and he attempted to silence himself with your neck, biting and nibbling at your throat. You stifled every single noise that threatened to leave your lips, body bouncing with the power of his hips, air hiccuping in your lungs as he pounded you.

"This little pussy is mine...you're mine..." he growled, fingers snaking down and brushing over your clit. "Fuck, you feel so good...I can't believe you kept this from me for so fucking long..."

Rapture numbed you, at the edge of your skin, a typhoon ready to wreck you witless. Your lids fluttered, teeth biting your lip with enough force to draw blood. He was going to make you crack. Make you fucking scream. There was no way you could continue being quiet when he was fucking you this good.

"M'sorry, Matty-" you weren't even sure what you were apologizing for. "So good...so deep...I-"

"Cum for me." Desire had consumed you both, his pace embodying complete desperation, a frenzied, urgent need to bring you both to orgasm. "Cum so I can fucking breed you...pump this little cunt full of my cum like I've dreamed of doing for months..."

Mattheo increased his pace on your clit, thrusts deepening even further--which you didn't even think was physically possible. He was slamming you deep, panting with every snap of his hips, your pussy hot and slick and pulsing with your oncoming climax.

You couldn't hold it back anymore--"Oh Gods-Mattheo!"

You shattered, exploded into flames, spectrum of colour blazing through your mind, a string of sobbing wails fleeing you as pulsed and spasmed on his dick, third climax shuddering through your veins. Mattheo groaned, clamping his palm over your lips as he continued to drill into you, holding off his own climax for as long as he could until he was physically unable to control himself--and he cursed, lungs sputtering as his hips slowed, cock twitching inside you as he poured his cum inside your cunt.

The room itself seemed to shudder, a tremor rumbling in the hardwood until he had finished and slowly pulled out, a deep, satisfied sigh leaving his chest.

After you collected yourself enough you spun around and watched as he tucked himself away, brushing his dampened curly hair back from his forehead. He straightened out, tucking the soft white fabric of his uniform shirt back into his pants before doing up his belt.

The second his eyes met yours, you reached for him. "I'm sorry for making you wait-"

"Don't ever be sorry," he cut you off, pulling you into him and placing a soft kiss on your forehead. "You were more than worth the wait, baby."

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