Hogwarts Smut - Tumblr Posts

. _. Dang

In the Back of Your Mind ༊*·˚

18+ MDNI !!!

Pairing: Young! Severus Snape x F! Reader / You

Summary: Kinktober 2024 Day 4 - Stalking. Severus is in love with you from afar. Severus is also very good at legilimency. You show a tiny bit of interest by helping him out in class and he loses a little more of his self-control.

Tags: Stalking, P in V, Unprotected sex, Oral sex (f receiving, a LOT of it), Very dubious consent, Mind manipulation / control, Brainwashing, Improper use of legilimency, Toxic relationships, Yandere Snape, Creepy perverted behaviour, Fantasising, Implied loss of virginity, Self-blaming.

READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED!!!!

Word count: 3.7k

Read it on ao3! | Masterlist

Authors note: Severus in this fic is written to be a walking red flag, don't seek this kind of relationship irl!! I started to get a headache toward the end of writing this, sorry if it's noticeable in the writing!! Hope you like it anyway mwah ( ◕◡◕)っ ♡

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Splat, Severus’ books thud to the ground. A cacophony of laughs erupts behind him, led by James Potter, a satisfied smirk on his face from having caused this mild inconvenience. Severus huffs and rolls his eyes, luckily hidden by his mop of long black hair. He bends down to pick up the books, not at all surprised when James nudges one further away with the toe of his shoe. He shuffles forward and picks it up too, straightening himself back up, head hung low. He shuffles across the hall to lean against a wall further from the marauders, who hoot and laugh at him. Even putting himself in their shoes he can’t understand what’s so funny about watching someone pick up books. None of it matters anyway, because you’ll be here soon. Perfect you. You always arrive at this class at 12:56, with your friend by your side. You’d usually be chatting, finishing off a pastry from lunch, whatever had taken your fancy that day, Severus guessed it would be the Pumpkin pasties today. He watches the clock above the door into the potion's dungeon, feeling a familiar tingle of excitement. Just as he knew you would, almost exactly as the clock struck 12:56, your voice drifted around the corner down the corridor. He watches behind his hair as you come into view, chatting happily with your friend, carefully holding a hand in front of your mouth as you chew. He imagines you spotting him, smiling and making your way over, giggling and offering him a bite of your pastry. He’d go to bite it and you’d withdraw it playfully, just to tease him, you’d laugh that bright laugh you have and he’d give you a chastising look before stealing a kiss from you, making you smile wider. You’d wrap your arms around his neck, pushing closer so that–

He’s yanked from his thoughts by Slughorn opening the doors to the lab, the heavy wood scraping unpleasantly against the stone floor. Everyone starts to head inside, he keeps his head down as he enters, hanging back at his usual spot at the back of the room, the spot with a perfect view of you. He places his books down, watching as you quickly scoff the last of your pastry, a pumpkin pasty as he’d guessed before the lesson started. Throughout the lesson he’s watching you, barely concentrating on the topic at hand, he doesn't need to, he already read up on it in his own time so that he can watch you. He’s lucky, in a way, that he only has you for potions, no matter how much he wishes you always there, always by him, always in view, else he may never learn anything at all. You lean forward on the desk, your chin in your palms, legs swinging under the desk. He can vaguely make out the outline of your bra through the back of your uniform shirt, it’s black, clasped on the final row. He almost jots this down on his parchment before he catches himself. He imagines that if he told you this, you’d laugh and call him something childish and endearing, like a ‘silly sausage’, flicking his nose gently. He’s lost in this fantasy, this world where he can tell you that he’s watching you and you find it sweet, going through the motions of setting up his workstation for brewing. He doesn’t even realise that Slughorn is calling out to him until your head turns towards him, looking curious. He notices with a start that the entire class is looking at him, the marauders laughing tauntingly among themselves.

“Er… what?” he croaks out, his voice a little rough from barely speaking all day. He hears a few more chuckles, but not from you. Kind, perfect you. You just glance between him and Slughorn without a hint of judgement in your eyes.

“Your hair is getting rather too long, boy, you’ll have to tie it up for this potion, it’s very volatile,” Slughorn chortles from the front of the room. “Do any of the ladies have a spare?” He addresses the room. The marauders and a couple of the other boys explode with laughter, several of the girls immediately shake their heads, or do nothing, except beautiful, perfect you. You’re picking up your bag and digging through it without a second's hesitation and he could kiss you right now, not that there was any time he felt like he couldn’t. Your friend, obviously shamed into action by you, flicks half-heartedly through her bag too. The rest of the class returns to setting up.

“A-ha!” you exclaim, pulling out a plain black hairband from your bag. Black like your bra, his brain supplies, but he shakes that off because you’re walking over to him. He’s immediately sweating, luckily you’re unlikely to notice through his robes, although you may notice the growing sheen on his forehead. You stand in front of him, smiling like an angel. He’s not this close to you often, somehow you’re even more ethereal up close. He takes a shaky breath as you extend the hairband to him. "Don't listen to them, Black is only about an inch away from needing one himself,"

“Th-Thank you…” He mumbles, brushing your fingertips with his own on purpose. It feels like a thousand fireworks exploding under his skin and he smiles shakily. You smile and shrug.

“Just get it back to me when you can, or keep it honestly, I have hundreds and you’ll probably need it again,” you explain happily. You always seem to have nothing bringing you down and he admires it, wishing he could be so positive, perhaps it’s easy when you’re as flawless as you are. You skip off back to your workstation to your friend. He has something in his hand that is yours, something he’s allowed to keep, something he didn’t have to snatch when you left the room. There’s a couple of your hairs stuck around it and he shivers in excitement. This is something you have used, and he has it through legitimate means. He’s floating on air. While everyone else is beginning to brew, he hides behind his cauldron carefully laying down your hairs in his notebook, making sure not to break them, securing them so they don’t fall out.

Eventually, once he’s sure he can’t extract any more of yours from the hairband, he finally ties his hair back into a low ponytail, getting to work. He’s confident he can catch up on the brewing time he missed, even as he keeps being distracted by the sight of you across the room, your hair pulled up out of your face in the same type of hairband you gave him. You’re gorgeous, somehow more than usual, which shouldn’t be possible or, frankly, legal. He’s often wondered if you’re part Veela somewhere far back, because of how absolutely perfect you are. Through extensive research of your family tree, he was able to prove himself wrong, but he still wonders. His potion expertise allows him to catch up on the potion, still being awarded the best potion in class by the end of it. He almost feels bad for everyone who actually put some effort into brewing just to lose to him again, but that feeling melts away when he spots you grinning at him as Slughorn announces his win. The two of you have never been friends, but you have always been silently friendly toward him, refusing to be swayed by the rumours about him. It’s perhaps what he loves the absolute most about you. He’s packing up when you approach him again, smiling softly.

“I actually like your hair up like this,” you whisper, reaching over to gently flick the end of his short ponytail. Severus doesn’t know if you’re teasing him or not. He feels like he’s been struck by lightning, both by your words and your playful touch. A hundred images of fantasies he’s had about you over the years flash through his mind. You’ve touched him! Willingly! In that playful way, he’d always imagined you would. It takes a lot of effort to remind himself that he can’t just kiss you right now. His mouth falls open and he lets out an undignified throaty noise. He quickly covers it up with a cough, blinking rapidly.

“I um… you… do?” he chokes out. You study his face for a moment, he’s sure you’re about to change your mind. You could never be so cruel though, he knows this, you’re too wonderful.

“Yeah… it’s nice to see your eyes sometimes,” you tease. Severus forces himself to laugh back casually, trying to force down the love hearts that are practically forming in his eyes. He also has to stop himself from grabbing you, never letting you move away again. He regrets holding himself back when your friend comes up behind you and ushers you away to your next class. You smile at him over your shoulder as you begin to leave. He quickly decides to use the compliments you’ve just given him against you. He wonders how much you really meant to them, but he has to try anyway. He invades your mind, silently smug about your lack of defences even after all this time. He feeds you a vision based on what you’ve just said. His head between your perfect supple thighs, looking up at you with wide needy eyes, his hair pulled back just like this, devouring your sweet cunt. He knows he’s been successful as he watches you suddenly flush and turn away, your cheeks bright red.

He doesn’t really know how you feel about these visions. He’s been invading your mind and planting them since the end of the fifth year. He would love to stick around in your brain, find out how you react to them, do some digging, and find out how you really feel about him, but he can’t risk it. The longer you’re in somebody's mind, the more they can feel the foreign presence. You’re still yet to put up any wards, even rudimentary ones, so he assumes you don’t realise you’re being invaded. You also haven’t started to avoid him more than normal, if you realised these visions were coming from someone else, there would only be one logical conclusion as to who they came from, but you haven’t withdrawn or confronted him in any way, so he figures he’s safe for now. The nature of the visions he gives you is probably enough to distract you from the momentary uncomfortable tingle of someone else being in your brain. He’s been experimenting for a long while to see what thoughts you react to the best. He often sits in the dining hall, somewhere where he has the perfect view of you, and plants various thoughts. You don’t seem to school your emotions very well, so he gets a vague idea of how you react to each scenario. He’s tried visions of him bending you over, roughly taking everything he wants from you, he’s tried visions of him begging on his knees to please you and everything in between. You blush beautifully at each one, whether from embarrassment or arousal, he isn’t sure. He can’t wait to feel your cheek heat up under his hand, because he will get to feel it, some day. You don’t seem to like the more extreme scenarios, complete domination or complete submission, but you don’t seem to mind either way if the power dynamic is a little milder. He doesn’t mind, he would be anything for you, do anything. What you seem to like best is when he feeds you a vision of him eating you out. He supposes it makes sense, it’s completely focused on your pleasure, so it’s practically all he’s been giving you lately. Sometimes he holds you down and calls you a good girl, sometimes you’re riding his face and calling him a good boy, you seem to like it either way. It makes him unbelievably smug.

After dinner, he’s trailing you and your friends to your common room, just to make sure that you’re safe, nothing more. He’s a little careless, feeding you the same vision over and over, enjoying watching you blush and stutter from afar as you try to chat with your friends. You probably think you’ve been hit with a lust potion or something, as he isn’t letting you think of anything else. It seems you hadn’t lied when you’d told him you liked his hair in the ponytail, as every time he gave you the same vision from earlier, he noticed your thighs tense. This isn’t a reaction he gets from you often at all, usually, it’s so subtle that he can be convinced it was unrelated, but this vision, in particular, seems to have you doing this every time. He’d dropped his fork at dinner just to duck under the table to watch your thighs clench, the sight nearly making his mouth water. He wished he could get under your table and spread your legs, make that vision a reality, but sadly he could not. He would do it in a heartbeat if you asked, fuck the consequences, fuck who could see. Maybe one day, if he kept torturing you with this vision, you would come begging. He feels his cock twitching eagerly in his trousers at the thought. You disappear into your common with your friends, him watching from around the corner. He sighs in disappointment, deciding to leave you be for the night since he can’t delight in your lovely little reactions any more. He hangs around at the corner for a moment, debating whether to head outside onto the grounds to watch you through your dorm window like he often did. The mini telescope he had to buy for Astronomy had turned out to be a fantastic use of money, even if he did often see your roommates instead. He had seen them all in various states of undress by now, but he couldn’t care about any of them in the least, he only had eyes for you.

Over the next few days, he eases off a little, realising how reckless he’d been. He couldn’t risk you knowing what he’s been doing, he can’t imagine that would end very well, even if you had seemed to grow to like the visions he gave you. He didn’t stop altogether, because that would have arguably been just as suspicious. He keeps it tame, one or two a day, maybe a little more innocent than normal. He can’t help but continue to use the information about you liking his hair back, making sure every fantasy he feeds you has him that way. He keeps your hairband, pulling his hair back every day now, because it makes you look at him just a second longer, and he’s obsessed with it. Lucius comments on it, saying it looks odd, but he couldn’t care less. It makes secretly watching you harder too, as he can’t hide behind his hair so much, but he makes do, all for those extra glances. He continues his routines, waiting for you to emerge in the mornings from your common room by hiding around the corner, watching you at every mealtime, trailing you back to the common room in the evening and then watching you through your window whenever he feels the need.

One night, once he’s happy you’re safely back in your common room, he turns to leave but trips slightly over his feet. He glances down, realising with an exasperated huff that the laces on his oxfords have come undone. He crouches down to tie them, setting his other knee on the ground. He fumbles with them unnecessarily, frustrated with himself. He vaguely registers footsteps approaching him, but not enough to react before he hears a voice.

“Oh… Severus, what are you doing here?” your soft angelic voice echoes slightly in the empty corridor. You seem confused, and, arguably, you have reason to be. The only thing down this corridor is your common room, and he has no excuse to be here. He swallows, staring straight down at the ground, his mind working a mile a minute.

“Here to return the hairband,” he grunts, thinking fast. It’s the only excuse he has, even if you had told him to keep it. He looks up at you from his crouched position, you’re a lot closer to him than he thought. He realises how similar this position is to some of the ones he’s forced into your brain. He’s pleased to notice, from the flush on your face, that you make this connection too, without it being planted. He shifts slightly, lowering both his knees to the ground and facing you properly. He looks up at you, his eyes burning with barely contained arousal. You’re flushed and shy as you look down at him and he dares to invade your mind to see what you’re thinking. He can’t fight the twitch of his lips as he creeps into your mind, only to find you’re imagining him, just as he is now, pushing up your skirt and burying his face between your legs. He shivers, you’re thinking of this all on your own. There’s a nag at the back of his mind, telling him you don’t quite seem to want to be thinking this, but he ignores it, reaching up for your thighs. You yelp in surprise as his cold, long fingers press into the warm skin of your thighs and he pulls you forward.

“Wha- what are you doing?” you squeak, stumbling helplessly toward him. He doesn’t answer, he feels possessed, and he’s already salivating. He brushes his nose against the skin of your thigh, just under the hem of your skirt, making you gasp. You smell divine, a vague hint of your perfume, presumably stuck to the fabric of your skirt, a hint of something that he realises, with a growl, must be your arousal. You try to step away, but he grips you harder, keeping you in place. He knows you want him, even if you don’t seem to know it yourself. You whimper as he licks a stripe up your thigh, the taste is faintly salty and he groans in pleasure. He hears the old castle creak slightly, reminding him that the two of you are out in the open. He withdraws slightly. You look utterly dazed above him like you don’t understand what’s going on. You realise that he’s walking you to a cleaning cupboard nearby, and your legs just blindly follow him. You want to protest, but can’t seem to find it in you. You had been fantasising about this for years now, even if the reason for these fantasies never seemed to make sense. He brings you in, shutting the door behind you. He’s kneeling again in an instant, he almost looks crazed as he bunches up your skirt. He doesn’t even give you time to acclimate before his tongue is on you through the material of your underwear. You gasp out loudly as he tastes the small wet spot of fabric, when did you even get wet? He takes a long deep sniff, his nose nudging at your clit through the fabric. He licks at you desperately until the material is soaked through, both with his saliva and your arousal. You were shocked by just how intensely your body was reacting to all this. You let him slide down your underwear, figuring there’s no point stopping him now. You lean back against the wall as he buries his head between your legs, shaking his head slightly to get even closer, the movement making you moan softly. He’s undeniably eager, lapping and slurping at you, but it’s fairly clear he’s never done this before. This is all he’s ever wanted, and he’s determined to make the most of it, the scent and taste of you making him feel insane. He rubs you all over his face, wriggling his tongue against you, gripping the flesh of your buttocks to keep you in place. He’s mumbling against you, about how long he’s been picturing this, but you can’t quite hear him, which is probably for the best. He makes up for his lack of experience with his enthusiasm, the way he’s looking up at you like he’s desperate to please. You find yourself falling apart all over his face shockingly fast, biting your lip to stifle your whines.

“Thank you, thank you,” he mumbles over and over as he laps you all up. He pulls away and you go a little limp, sliding slightly down the wall as he stands. You barely register what’s happening as he turns you around pressing you up against the wall, your eyes widen as he pushes inside you, but by now you’re well past the point of no return, so you simply brace yourself against the wall. He humps you like a dog in heat, sloppy and fast, you’re glad he made you orgasm earlier because you don’t get the feeling you will be cumming from this. Not that it feels bad, in fact, it feels quite good, making you moan as he bullies against you. He grips your waist tight with his slender fingers. “This is perfect, everything I’ve ever dreamed of,” he whimpers in your ear. “Now that I’ve had a taste of you, I’m never letting you go, you’re mine now,” you know what he’s saying is worrying, but your fucked out mind can’t quite realise the true danger of what he’s saying and what your lack of protesting is solidifying in his mind. “All mine,” he growls, his hips stuttering violently. He buries himself as deep as he can. “Fo-forever,” he groans shakily as he spills deep inside of you. He holds you there for a long time, your body limp in his arms as he pants against the back of your neck. You feel lightheaded, you can’t believe everything that’s just happened to you. He kisses your cheek, over and over, as if it's some sort of compulsion. “Mine, mine, mine,” he mumbles repeatedly, the reality of everything starting to sink in for you. Maybe you should have believed the rumours about his mental instability, maybe you should have kicked him away when he first grabbed your thighs, perhaps you should be telling him right now that you’re not his, but instead, a string of words come out of your mouth, feeling like they’re only half your own.

“Can you eat me out again?”

And he happily complies, sliding back down onto his knees.

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xoxoxo

𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭, tom riddle

summary: in which, y/n decides to deliberately disobey her boyfriend to fulfill some unspoken fantasies.

pairing: fem!reader x tom riddle. use of she/her pronouns.

contains: possession, degrading, teasing, orgasm denial, edging, dirty talk, oral (f receiving), dom/sub themes, spit, innocence kink if you squint, rough sex, unprotected sex, over stimulation

notes: all acts are consensual. characters are of age.

word count: 3,461

requests are open!

She had already started the night off right, exactly how she planned. Y/N stood in below Tom in a tight black dress that was completely flattering to her figure. The silk material enveloped her form, cut a little bit to low at the chest and rid a little too high on her thighs for Tom’s liking. 

His stare almost melted the fabric off of her body. Hot and heavy, he stood over her, her back to the door and chests almost pressed together. He left some intentional space between the two of them. He was quite literally blocking her from leaving. His hand held the door handle strongly, making the veins in his hands completely visible to her as a way of coaxing his girlfriend into not going to the party tonight.

Tom wasn’t one for parties, but occasionally he’d accompany his girlfriend with a strong hand around her waist and an intimidating scowl on his face so any of those dimwitted boys that would drool over her wouldn’t stand a chance to even talk to her. That’s if she asked nicely enough, and usually in exchange for some favors.

His eyes swept down her frame, disapproving of the outfit. “Absolutely not. Go change.” He stated firmly. His words were sharp and definite. She knew no matter how much she argued, she wouldn’t get her way. Not tonight.

“Why? Don’t you like it?” Y/N ran her hands down the dress, fingers tapping nervously at her side.

He almost scoffed at her response, he hates when she plays dumb. “You know that isn’t the reason, doll. You look like a slut. It’s basically lingerie.”

“Is that all so bad?” She asked, subconsciously tipping herself closer to him. She wasn’t offended by his words. More so, turned on.

He ignored the way her innocent eyes looking up at him made him twitch in his pants. “For me, and my eyes only, no.” He said, emphasis on his use of the word ‘my’. “But, I will not have you looking like that at a party full of drunk, horny, guys. Not fucking happening.”

She sighed, tucking hair behind her ear. “Tom,” her hand trailed down from his collar bone to his hand. 

“Don’t start. Go change, or you aren’t going. End of story.” He shook her hand off of his arm and walked away, leaving her standing alone, back still pressed to the door, pout placed pretty on her lips.

Everything was going according to plan. She took a deep breath- almost bracing herself for what she was about to do. She had never deliberately disobeyed him before. Before any last minute second thoughts could stop her, she opened the door and left.

Close to an hour had past and reality set in. It filled her with excitement, and even a little bit of fear, because she didn’t know what he was going to do to her. He didn’t follow her out of the dorm room like she anticipated. So now, she waited in a room full of intoxicated adolescents in an arousing, uncertain anxious feeling that settled in the pit of her stomach.

Instead of dwelling on what was going to happen, she decided to enjoy any sort of time she had left. Maybe, nothing would happen. And sneaking out in the black dress, disobeying him, would get her nowhere. But there was always a possibility.

Hands that weren’t Tom’s made their way to Y/N’s hips on the dance floor. It wasn’t uncomfortable or unwanted, it was exciting and new.

So she danced with him- a Ravenclaw boy with dark hair and a sharp jaw. Even though there was a drink or two in her system and in the long run this dance wouldn’t matter, it still mattered that it was a Ravenclaw instead of Tom. She wished the strong hands gripping at her sides were his.

There wasn’t a day that past by when Tom didn’t orchestrate what she wore to these parties. Not just clothes, but makeup too. Claiming that dark lipstick and false eyelashes made her look like a prostitute. Heels and push-up bras made her look like a whore, and long skin tight dresses like this one made her look slutty.

It wasn’t because those things were true, it was because he wanted to have her, all of her, to himself. He wanted her to dress up pretty like this for him, and only him. The thought of any guy even looking at Y/N in any of those things- dark lipstick, false eyelashes, heels, push-up bras and skin tight dresses made his blood start to boil.

The possession wasn’t something she hated. It’s something she welcomed instead. Yes, his behavior was slightly toxic. They were both aware. But, that didn’t matter to either of them because-

“What the fuck is this?!”

Sharp words pierced the air behind her. For a split second, she didn’t want to even turn around and see. He grabbed her wrist and almost tore y/n off of the second party’s body. Even though anger encompassed every cell of his body, he pulled her in close to his side.

“Who the fuck do you think you are? Touching MY girlfriend?” His grip on her arm grew tighter, to the point where it almost hurt.

“Uh, I- look man, um, I don’t want any trouble,” He scrambled for words. Anybody in the room could clearly see the fear in his eyes.

“Let’s just go,” Y/N said shyly, tugging the sleeve of his shirt to the direction of the door. The blaring music drowned out her fruitless attempt at swaying his decision.

He looked down at her, a look he knew all too well. A look that said, 'Don’t do anything, please?’

He shoved her off of him slightly, and took a step forward. “You’re lucky. You’re fucking lucky your jaw isn’t broken. If I ever even see you looking in her direction ever again, I swear to god.”

After one last menacing look to assert his dominance, he grabbed Y/N and dragged her out of the common room.

“Tom, I-” She started, trying to keep up with the fast pace he had storming down the hallways back to his dorm.

“Shut up.” He said, and continued looking forward.

“We were just dancing,” She said, ignoring what he just told her to do. A slight tone of annoyance in her voice.

“What did I just say? Just dancing, huh? You might as well have just gotten on your damn knees and shoved his dick down your throat, Y/N.” He scowled at his own words. The thought of that was absolutely sickening.

He had already told her to shut up once, so saying something in protest would not be the best option. Continuing on until they were in front of his room, he fumbled with the lock until the door swung open and he pushed her inside and onto the bed.

He stood before her, his dominant presence making her knees grow weak even though she was already sitting down. The way that his button up shirt sat across his broad chest made her think sinful thoughts.

All she could think about was him using her. For his pleasure only. The thought of him relentlessly fucking her even if she already came- because all that mattered was that he wasn’t done yet, was a reoccurring thought. Teased and tortured into submission, she would be his.

He placed his hands on the bridge of his nose and sighed audibly, thinking about what to do with her, how to put her in her place.

“I can’t fucking believe you. Honestly.”

She looked up at him, innocently of course, a slight apologetic look playing on her features. Her fingers moving nervously in her lap.

Even though pure anger flowed through him right now, he couldn’t ignore the way the dress rid up her thighs and looked constrained against her skin. Especially her chest.

“And now you have nothing to say? For fuck’s sake, y/n.” He looked down at her and was.. displeased to say the least when he saw her eyes fixated to her hands.

He took a step forward and forcibly moved her face to look right at him. His hand rested on her cheek, his touch firm yet soft. The security of built trust and knowing he would never hurt her calmed her nerves slightly.

“Answer me when I speak to you.” He said, his tone laced with lust.

His thumb traced her face down to her bottom lip, parting them slightly.

“I’m sorry.” Was all she could muster. He was well in between her legs now, spread open in front of him with no friction. The mix of being so close and his strong hold on her face made her apology sound more like a whine.

“Are you really? Or are you just saying that so I’ll forget about your behavior and fuck you anyways?” He held direct eye contact with her as he spoke.

Y/N was left speechless at her helpless position on the edge of the bed. He smirked to himself, and knelled- dipping between her legs.

He moved his hand up the skin of her inner thigh, making her shiver. Skin heating up at the places he touched. His touch was feather-light, nowhere near enough. He slipped his hand under the dress and pulled upwards, so it sat on her hips exposing her soaked underwear.

He slid his hand up further on her inner thigh. Admiring the existing hickies he’d left on her skin previously. Her mouth open slightly, trying to control her erratic breathing.

“Didn’t even respond to me and I’m already giving you what you want,” His pointer and middle finger ghosted over her clothed clit.

“Please,” she breathed. Pleading for some sort of touch.

“Yeah?” He pressed his fingers down ever so slightly, just enough to draw out an aching whimper. “Fuck, you’re dripping. Already. I haven’t even touched you and your panties are a mess.”

The way the vulgar words rolled off his tongue so easily but were encased with heat and desire caused a light moan to fall from her lips. With that, he pressed his fingers firmly into her through her underwear.

The simple action caused her hips to lift into his touch, rubbing herself on his fingers. “So fucking needy,” he tutted. “Go ahead, get yourself off on my hand. You fucking slut.”

The way he spit out his words caused her to move faster, chasing the feeling. The way Tom rubbed against her clit, hitting exactly where she needed it to, mixed with the bucking of her own hips made obscene noises leave her pretty lips. 

He slid her underwear aside and admired how her arousal dripped down her cunt. “Fuck,” he whispered to himself. He was almost mesmerized by her pussy, even if he’d seen it a million times. He cursed himself again, because he remembered he was supposed to be punishing her.

Tossing the thought aside, his hand snaked around her waist and pulled her closer to his face. He inched closer, and trailed his finger from her clit to her entrance. He slid it in the smallest bit, teasing the hole. Looking up at her, her head was tilted back almost, but not enough that he couldn’t see her face. She gripped the sheets in her fists. So much so that her knuckles went white.

“Please, please, please.” Knowing Tom, he’d tell her to use her words. “Please, Tom, I need more- fuck,” y/n pleaded, looking down at him.

He shushed her gently and licked her clit. Y/n let out a choked sob followed by more desperate pleas. He continued to work at her clit as his finger slid deeper, drawing out longer moans and cries of his name on her tongue.

He let his finger slide further, picking up a steady pace that was agonizingly slow. His was tongue now relentlessly flicking her clit. He felt her thighs move together, immediately pushing them apart to get at her deeper. 

Even though she was impossibly wet already, Tom pulled his head back and harshly spit on her cunt. His mouth went back working impossibly fast on her clit. The taste of her on his tongue alone made him roll his hips, erection blaring between his legs.

His light groans against her, his strong hand pressed on her inner thigh, the noises that equaled absolute filth, it was all too much.

He felt her walls begin to tighten around his finger. He pressed up, hitting her g spot exactly. She inhaled sharply, chasing her high that she needed so desperately.

And then, it all stopped.

Tom stood up, locking eyes with her as he stuck his finger into her mouth, locking in her whimpers. She took his wrist in her hand and sucked on his finger, hips rutting into the air. After she finished her task, the begging resumed. “Please, no, keep going-,”

“Come on, angel. You know you don’t deserve that.” He spoke, starting to undo buttons on his shirt.

She bit her lip in anxiety. The same aroused uncertain feeling pooling in her stomach from earlier mixed with the need from a denied orgasm built up enough courage to say what she wanted to say.

“Use me.”

“What?” His cock dripped even more pre-cum at the sound of that, causing a very visible wet spot on his pants.

“Use me, Tom. I’m yours. Do whatever you want to me. I’m asking you.” She begged, pulling him closer by the belt. Her hands rubbed at the sides of his thighs as she stared sweetly up at him.

“Fuck princess, is that what you want?” He asked, even though he could tell from the sound of her voice she was more than sure.

“Yes. Please.” She pleaded, still looking up at him.

“Okay. You know what to say if you want to stop. Take off your clothes.”

Happily she obliged. Her cheeks growing hot at his intent stare as she lifted her dress over her shoulders and slid off her dampened panties onto the floor. He palmed himself through his pants at the sight of her placed so elegantly on the edge of his bed, cunt dripping onto the sheets, making himself groan. 

As much as he loved how the black lace of her bra against her skin, he wanted her completely naked. His hand snaked around her back and unhooked her bra, leaving her completely bare in front of him. She swallowed and let out a shallow breath that she didn’t know she was holding.

“Stand up,” he commanded, holding her wrist as she did so. His hands trailed down her skin and stopped at her thighs, spinning her body around. He took her arms behind her back, holding them in place with one strong arm as he pulled her even closer with the other, erection twitching against her bare ass. 

She sighed in pleasure as her clit ached for more friction. He breathed her in, hot caramelized sugar filling his senses as he tucked hair behind her ear to grant access to the smooth skin on her neck. He kissed down the span of it softly, nipping just above her collarbone. He pressed a hickey into her neck, tongue fluttering over the area to soothe the sting. 

And with that, the soft moment of kissing halted. He let her arms free of his grasp, and pushed her face down onto his mattress. His hands skimmed the bare skin of her ass, savoring the touch on her skin. His palms ignited fire within her stomach, positioning her up so her pussy pressed against his clothed cock.

Right before she could even vocalize the pleasure of feeling him against her, he backed up and started to unbuckle his belt and pull it through the loops. He pulled down his zipper with his palm, discarding the unneeded articles of clothing onto the floor. 

He held the base of his cock and pressed it to her clit, and down to her entrance drawing out a long moan. 

“Please, Tom. Need you so bad, please,” she whined against the sheets. 

And with that, he pressed himself fully into her, groaning at how easily he slipped in and how he felt around her. Already the pleasure was unbearable for him. Going from not being touched at all to completely inside of her was an escalation of intensity that he loved. He let out a low moan and started moving his hips.

Giving her no time to adjust to his length (not that she needed to), he began pounding into her. His hands found themselves at her hips. His grasp strong enough that it stung so deliciously and would defiantly leave marks in the shape of his hands, and he loved that. He loved that parts of her body only he could see were decorated with sinful marks. 

His pace was merciless and unforgiving, hitting her exactly where she needed him with each snap of his hips. The sounds that left her lips were pornographic and muffled, making Tom twitch inside of her. 

He pulled out briefly, and they both wined lowly in sync at the loss of him inside of her. He pulled her up, her back flush against his front. Their bodies scalding hot pressed against one another. He slipped back in and resumed his brutal pace, but this time, being so close to one another caused him to hit deeper than before. 

His hand wandered around her to her cunt, thumbing her clit. The other arm holding her in place, never breaking his rhythm. She screamed out in pleasure. 

“Yeah? I want you to remember about this moment the next time you even think about dancing with another guy,” He spoke breathlessly against her skin. His tone rough, folded in with jealousy and pleasure. “You think anyone else can make you feel this good? Fuck you like I can?” 

“Mmm, fuck,” she moaned. 

“Answer me.” 

“No, only you, shit-” she gasped. Back arched against him. His pace was unforgettably rough, his fingers still circling her clit as he moved in and out of her. She was on the edge, any moment the rubber band could snap inside of her. He trailed open mouth kisses on her shoulders, speeding up his pace on her clit. He could feel her gripping around him, both of them knowing that she was close.

“Oh my god, oh my god, I’m gonna cum, I-” she screamed out. The grip on her hips got tighter, fucking her through her orgasm. He felt her cum drip down between where the both of them met, the noises growing wetter and more obscene. 

“Tom, jesus,” she moaned. She wasn’t used to this, even though she’d already came, his pace didn’t slow down. 

“I’m not done yet.” 

Just those words alone ignited the fire in her stomach again. Her legs shaking against him from her previous orgasm, moaning out in the delicious sting of over stimulation. He pressed her down to the bed again, placing his strong hand on the base of her ass.

“I know you’ve got another one in you, can you cum again for me?” He asked, not once breaking his pace. His thick words drew her closer again, along with the new feeling of her already fucked out cunt continuing to be tortured. 

“Mhm,” she whined out breathlessly. Her second orgasm building fast in the pit of her stomach. 

His hips faltered, the first time she felt him break his pace. She felt him twitch inside of her, knowing he was close. His hold on her hips tightened along with the feeling in her cunt and stomach. He let out a low groan, and the next thing she knew she felt him spilling out inside of her. With that, the band snapped again and they came together, Tom fucking through both of their orgasms.

With one last thrust, he pulled out of her and she dissolved into the overwhelming pleasure she just experienced. He took a step back and watched both of their releases pour our of her. 

“My god,” He whispered. He helped her up and pulled her closer, the sweat that adorned both of their bodies glistening under the light above them.

“Are you okay? Was that too much?” He asked, kissing her forehead.

“No,” she responded almost immediately. “It was so good.”

“Okay.” He said. “Don’t ever pull something like that again, though,” smiling a little bit, still kissing her. 

She laughed lightly and nodded, basking in the feeling knowing that he wasn’t mad at her. “I’m going to go shower, want to join?” 

“Obviously,” he replied, and with that, the fucked out couple went to wash off their ungodly activities. 

a/n: hi! i hope you enjoyed! it’s my first full length smut one-shot, so please let me know what you think :3 <3s and reblogs appreciated.