blutwerygd

[blutwerygd]

t.m.r smut

warnings: p.in.v, soft!tom, rough sex, a little bit of degrading, use of safeword

Tom Riddle strolled through the deserted library halls of Hogwarts, his footsteps echoing off the ancient stone walls. He was a tall, enigmatic figure with piercing eyes that seemed to bore into the very soul of anyone who dared to look his way. His raven hair fell in a sleek wave across his forehead, and his sharp features held an air of both charm and danger. As he passed the dusty bookshelves, a young woman caught his eye.

You, Y/N, were perched on a ladder, reaching for a book that had been shoved to the very back of the top shelf. You hadn't noticed him yet, your focus solely on the elusive tome. The hem of your school robe had ridden up slightly, revealing a glimpse of your bare ankle. Tom felt his heart quicken at the sight of your unblemished skin, so pale and soft in the candlelight. He approached, his eyes never leaving your form as he took in the curve of your legs, the way your skirt hugged your hips.

"Need some help?" His voice was smooth and cold, like a serpent slithering through the quiet.

You startled, dropping the book you'd been grasping for. It fell to the floor with a thump, and you barely caught yourself from toppling over. You looked down at him, your eyes wide with a mix of surprise and apprehension. "T-Tom?"

He offered his hand to help you down, and you took it, feeling the electricity of his touch as he gently guided you to the ground. His grip was firm, his skin cool to the touch. "What brings you to the library so late?" His eyes searched yours, a hint of a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

You tried to regain your composure, your cheeks flushing. "Just some…research," you murmured, avoiding his gaze.

Tom stepped closer, closing the distance between you. "Allow me," he said, his breath warm on your cheek as he reached past you to grab the fallen book. His chest brushed against yours, and you felt a jolt of desire shoot through your body. "I can help you with that."

The tension grew palpable as he held the book out to you. His hand lingered just a moment too long, his eyes dropping to your trembling fingers. You took the book, your heart racing as he stepped back, his eyes never leaving yours. "Thank you," you managed to say, your voice a mere whisper.

Tom leaned in, his breath tickling your ear. "Don't mention it, darling," he murmured. "I'll always be here for you." His words sent a shiver down your spine, and you knew that you had just entered a world of dark allure and tantalizing danger. His possessiveness was clear, his jealousy a simmering ember that could flare into something fierce at any moment. Yet, there was something about his kinky nature that intrigued you, made you want to explore the depths of his soul.

He stepped back, and you could feel his eyes on you as you turned to leave. "Goodnight, Y/N," he called softly, and you could hear the promise in his tone. You walked away, your legs shaking, your thoughts racing with the anticipation of what was to come.

You couldn't get him out of your head. His possessive gaze, his cold yet alluring voice. It was as if he had cast a spell over you, and you were powerless to resist his charm. You found yourself in the library again the next evening, hoping for another encounter.

As the hours ticked by and the room grew darker, the candles flickered with the draft from the open window. You heard the soft thud of the door closing, and there he was again, standing before you. His eyes searched yours, a hint of hunger in their depths.

Without a word, he stepped closer, his hand reaching out to brush a stray hair from your face. His touch was gentle, yet it sent a jolt of electricity through you. He leaned down, his breath hot on your skin as he whispered, "I've been thinking about you all day."

You felt your body respond to his proximity, your heart hammering in your chest. You knew this was dangerous, that he was dangerous, but you couldn't help the thrill that coursed through you. "What do you want?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Tom's smirk grew. "What do you think I want?" He stepped closer still, his hand sliding around your waist to pull you against him. You could feel the heat of his body, his hardness pressing into your stomach.

"This," he murmured, his lips brushing yours. "This is what I want."

You gasped as he kissed you, his mouth claiming yours with a fierce hunger that left you trembling. His hands moved down to cup your buttocks, lifting you onto the desk with surprising strength. The cold wood pressed against your thighs as he stepped between your legs, his warmth enveloping you.

Tom's tongue danced with yours, exploring every crevice, demanding and possessive. His teeth grazed your lower lip, and you moaned into his mouth, tasting the metallic tang of your own blood. He pulled away just enough to look into your eyes, his own burning with desire. "You're mine," he growled, and the possessiveness in his voice sent a thrill through you.

You felt his hand slide up under your skirt, his cool fingers tracing the line of your panties. He hooked his finger under the fabric, pulling it aside to reveal your slick heat. You couldn't help the whimper that escaped your lips as he touched you, his fingertips lightly grazing your sensitive flesh.

He chuckled darkly, the sound sending shivers through your body. "So eager," he murmured, his voice a low purr that resonated through you. His hand moved with purpose, one finger slipping inside you as he began to stroke you with a rhythm that had you arching off the desk.

You clutched at his shirt, your nails digging into his skin as the pleasure built. His eyes never left yours, watching the play of emotions across your face with an intensity that was both thrilling and terrifying. You were his, utterly and completely, and the thought only made you wetter.

Tom leaned in, his teeth grazing your neck as he whispered, "Beg for it." You moaned, the words almost stuck in your throat. "Beg for me to fuck you."

The words came out in a desperate whisper. "Please, Tom, I need you." It was all the encouragement he needed. He pushed his finger deeper, curling it to hit that spot that made you see stars. You bit your lip to keep from screaming out loud, your body tensing as the orgasm crashed over you.

He chuckled again, the sound sending waves of pleasure through you. "Good girl," he praised, his voice thick with lust. He withdrew his hand, leaving you panting and desperate for more. "But we're not done yet."

Tom pulled you to the floor, his body pressing down on top of yours. The weight of him was exhilarating, grounding you to the cold stone beneath the rug. His hands were everywhere, exploring your body with a hunger that was insatiable.

You felt him tug at your skirt, pulling it up to expose your bare skin to the cool air. His mouth followed the path of his hand, kissing and biting as he went. When his teeth grazed your inner thigh, you couldn't help but cry out.

He looked up at you, his eyes gleaming in the candlelight. "I want to hear you," he said, his voice a seductive command. "I want to hear every little sound you make."

You nodded, unable to form coherent words as his mouth moved closer to your center. His breath was hot, sending shivers through you as he kissed the damp fabric of your underwear. He hooked his thumbs into the waistband, sliding them down your legs with agonizing slowness.

When you were bare before him, he took a moment to appreciate the view, his eyes roaming over your trembling form. You felt exposed, vulnerable, but the desire burning in his gaze was like a balm to your fears.

Tom leaned down, his breath hot on your skin as he kissed the sensitive flesh just above your sex. You whimpered, your hips rising to meet him, begging for more. His tongue darted out, licking you once, twice, before plunging into your wetness.

The sensation was overwhelming, his mouth and hands working in tandem to drive you to the edge. You wrapped your legs around his neck, pulling him closer as he devoured you. You could feel your climax building, the tension coiling in your belly like a spring ready to snap.

"Please," you gasped, your voice barely recognizable. "I need you inside me."

Tom chuckled against your skin, the vibration sending shockwaves through your body.

"As you wish," he murmured, his voice a dark promise. He stood, unbuttoning his trousers with swift, practiced movements. His erection sprang free, thick and heavy, and your eyes widened with both excitement and a hint of trepidation. He was beautiful in his own terrifying way, and you couldn't help but be drawn to him like a moth to a flame.

He stepped closer, his cock brushing against your slick folds. You felt the tip of him at your entrance, and he paused, looking down at you with a predatory gaze. "Are you ready?"

You nodded, biting your lip as you felt him begin to push inside. The stretch was delicious agony, his size filling you completely. You whimpered as he inched in further, his grip on your hips tightening.

"Look at me," he commanded, and you did, your eyes locking onto his. The intensity in his gaze was almost too much to bear as he slammed into you, sheathing himself fully in one powerful stroke. You screamed, the pain mixing with pleasure, your nails digging into the rug beneath you.

Tom didn't give you a moment to adjust. He began to move, his hips pistoning into you with a force that was almost punishing. You could feel every inch of him, the friction driving you wild. Your eyes rolled back in your head as he claimed you, his possessive nature spilling into every touch and kiss.

Your moans filled the library, echoing off the dusty tomes and forgotten scrolls. His teeth grazed your neck, his mouth finding that spot that made you shiver every time. His hand found your breast, squeezing and teasing your nipple until it was a hard peak of need.

With each thrust, he seemed to go deeper, hitting that spot inside you that made your toes curl. You felt your orgasm building, a storm brewing in your core. "Tom," you gasped, your voice a desperate plea.

He grunted in response, his movements becoming more frenzied. He was close, you could feel it. The tension in his body was palpable, his muscles tightening as he drove into you harder and faster.

"Come for me," he growled, his teeth sinking into your neck. The sensation of pain and pleasure combined was too much to bear, and you shattered beneath him, your body convulsing as waves of ecstasy washed over you.

Tom followed you over the edge, his own orgasm ripping through him like a tempest. He groaned your name, his hips stuttering as he emptied himself inside you. The feeling of his warmth filling you was intoxicating, making you clench around him even tighter.

He collapsed onto you, his weight pressing you into the floor. For a moment, you were lost in the haze of pleasure, your breathing ragged and your heart hammering in your chest.

As the aftershocks of your climax subsided, Tom pulled out, his eyes still dark with lust. He leaned down, capturing your mouth in a bruising kiss. "You're mine," he whispered again, his voice thick with satisfaction.

You nodded, your body still trembling from the intensity of your encounter. You were his, and for now, that was all that mattered.

The reality of your situation began to sink in as he pulled away, straightening his robes. You watched him, your breath still coming in gasps, your legs shaky as you sat up.

"What happens now?" you asked, your voice barely a murmur.

Tom's smile was cold. "Now, we continue this dance, Y/N. This is just the beginning." With that, he left you alone in the candlelit library, the echoes of your shared passion lingering in the air.

Over the next few days, Tom was everywhere and nowhere. You'd catch glimpses of him in the corridors, his eyes raking over you with a hunger that made you wet. Yet, when you approached, he'd turn away with a polite nod, his demeanor cool and distant. It was a game of cat and mouse that had you on edge, desperate for his touch.

In the Great Hall, you'd feel his gaze on you, his eyes following every move you made. The way he'd watch you bite your lip, the way your robes clung to your body as you walked…it was maddening. You craved his attention, his dominance. And yet, he pretended not to notice.

One evening, unable to take it any longer, you waited for him outside the library. When he finally appeared, you stepped into his path, blocking his way. "Tom," you said, your voice low and needy.

He looked up, his eyes widening with surprise. "Y/N," he said, his voice a velvet purr. "What do you want?"

Without a word, you reached for his hand, pulling him into the deserted room. The second the door clicked shut, you launched yourself at him, your mouth finding his with a desperation that was almost painful.

Tom chuckled against your lips, the sound low and dark. "So eager," he murmured, his hands sliding down to your waist. He pushed you against the bookshelf, his body trapping you in a cage of muscle and power.

"I need you," you whimpered, your nails scratching down his back.

"Do you?" he asked, his voice a mocking sneer. "You're just a little slut who can't get enough, aren't you?"

The words should have hurt, but instead, they sent a jolt of arousal straight to your core. You nodded, your breath hitching in your throat. "Yes, I'm yours."

With a groan, Tom crushed his mouth to yours, his tongue plunging into your mouth as if reclaiming his territory. His hands moved to your breasts, squeezing them roughly, his thumbs flicking over your sensitive nipples. You gasped, arching into his touch, your body responding to his every command.

He pushed your skirt up, his hand sliding over your thighs to find you already slick with need. "Look at you," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "So desperate for me."

You nodded, unable to form words as his fingers danced over your clit. You were so close, the pressure building, your legs trembling with the effort to stay upright.

"Beg for it," he growled, his teeth grazing your ear.

"Please," you moaned, the word barely coherent. "Please, Tom."

He smirked, his fingers slowing their movements. "What do you want?"

"I want you to fuck me," you panted, the words spilling from your mouth.

Tom's eyes flashed with triumph, and he yanked your panties aside, plunging two fingers into your wetness. You screamed, your body bucking against his hand as he pumped into you. His thumb circled your clit, the sensation overwhelming.

"Is this what you want?" he asked, his voice a dark caress. "For me to fuck you like the whore you are?"

You nodded, tears of pleasure pricking at your eyes. "Yes," you gasped. "Please."

With a final, vicious twist of his wrist, you shattered again, your orgasm tearing through you like a tempest. He withdrew his fingers, bringing them to his mouth to suck them clean, his gaze never leaving yours.

Then, with a swift movement, Tom spun you around, pushing you face-first into the bookshelf. You felt him behind you, his erection nudging against your slick entrance. "You're mine," he hissed, his hand tangling in your hair as he pulled your head back. "And I'll take you whenever I want."

With that, he entered you in one powerful thrust, filling you completely. You moaned, the combination of pleasure and pain making your knees buckle. The bookshelf rattled against the wall with the force of his movements, the sound echoing through the empty library.

Tom's grip on your hair tightened, his hips slamming into you without mercy. You felt the roughness of his trousers against your bare skin, the fabric a stark reminder of the harshness of his need. His strokes grew faster, harder, and you could feel your body begin to rebel, the pain becoming too much.

"T-Tom," you gasped, trying to find the words to ask for a break. But they remained lodged in your throat, trapped by the intensity of the moment. You didn't know if you could handle much more, your body straining under his dominance.

He didn't slow, didn't ease his grip, his teeth nipping at your shoulder as he growled into your ear. "You're mine," he repeated, his voice a harsh whisper that sent shivers down your spine. "And I'll take what I want."

Finally, unable to bear it, you choked out a plea. "Please, Tom. I-I can't."

He stilled, his breath hot on your neck. "What's wrong?"

You swallowed hard, your voice shaky. "It-it hurts. Too much."

Tom's eyes searched yours, his expression darkening with concern. He knew you didn't have a safeword, knew that you were at his mercy. "Do you need a break?"

You nodded, tears of pain and frustration slipping down your cheeks. "Yes."

With surprising gentleness, he pulled out, turning you to face him. His eyes searched yours, filled with a mix of regret and desire. He wiped the tears from your face with his thumb. "I'm sorry," he murmured, his voice low and sincere. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

You leaned into his touch, your body trembling with the aftermath of your climax. "It's okay," you whispered. "I just…I need a moment."

Tom nodded, his hand sliding down to cup your cheek. "Take all the time you need," he said, his thumb tracing your bottom lip. He stepped back, allowing you to regain your balance and straighten your clothes.

The silence between you was thick with unspoken words, the tension palpable. You knew that this was a pivotal moment, that the power dynamic had shifted ever so slightly. He waited, his gaze never leaving yours, as you gathered your thoughts.

You took a deep breath, looking up at him with a mix of fear and desire. "Let's set some boundaries," you suggested tentatively. "A safeword."

Tom's expression grew thoughtful, his eyes never leaving yours. After a moment, he nodded. "Agreed," he said, his voice firm. "Choose your word."

You thought for a moment before whispering, "Merlin."

He smirked, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "Merlin it is," he said, the words a promise. "Use it whenever you need to, and I'll stop."

The tension in the room eased slightly, and you felt a flicker of hope. Perhaps this could work, this dance of dominance and submission, of pleasure and pain. But for now, you needed to step back, to catch your breath before diving back into the storm of passion that was Tom Riddle.

With a nod, you stepped away from the bookshelf, your legs still wobbly. Tom watched you, his eyes never leaving your face. You could feel the hunger in his gaze, the desire that hadn't been sated. But he waited, giving you the space you needed.

Taking a deep breath, you turned back to him, your eyes meeting his. "Thank you," you murmured.

Tom's smile was a wolfish grin, his eyes gleaming with lust. "Don't thank me yet," he said, his voice a dark promise. "We're far from finished." And with that, he leaned in, capturing your mouth in a kiss that left you gasping for more.