with; tom riddle x reader
synposis; reader is having trouble in the dating pool after her and mattheo riddle broke up. she's losing focus in school and with her head girl duties, so tom riddle offers to help her out so she can start focusing again.
cw; alcohol, tom is like normal and not a crazy psycho, reader is drunk, sex, p in v, blowjob, creampie, y/n used, no description of reader other than female and has hair, partying, stomach bulge, slight dacryphilia but not really, virginity like teasing but neither of them actually are
an; i lost my 40 day worlde streak while writing this so i'm not proofreading it. also sorry for abdnoning this account ive been busy!!!
The music blasted around you, the bass seemingly making the floor thump beneath your feet. The sounds of people laughing, drinking, arguing, making out, and whatever else people do at Slytherin parties was doing your head in. You stumbled towards a couch, dropping onto the cushions and putting your head in your hands with a groan.
Fuck. Your head hurts. And your feet. Actually, everything hurts. Maybe you should call it a night and go back to your dorm. Not that you would be able to sleep anyway, the music was so loud it was practically making your bones jump inside your skin.
After a few seconds – maybe it was minutes, who knows anymore – of trying to collect yourself, you feel the couch dip beside you as someone takes a seat. You don’t care to look up and see who it is, it’s probably some random Slytherin that you’ve never seen, until you hear the familiar voice.
“Hello, Head Girl,” comes the low, monotonous voice of Tom Riddle.
You let out a shaky sigh and peer sideways at him through a small opening in your hands. “What do you want, Tom?” You ask with a frustrated frown.
“We were supposed to be patrolling tonight. But it seems you’re too.. busy,” he gestures vaguely at your drunken, exhausted state.
“Oh, shit,” you groan, a foggy memory appearing in your brain about the conversation. “Right. Um.. Can you do it by yourself? Just for tonight?”
“It’s already been done. Do you know what time it is?”
“No..” you answer tentatively. “What is it?”
“Almost two-thirty in the morning. I would think that the Head Girl would have more sense than this.”
“Shut up. The Head Girl also needs to get drunk sometimes.”
“Why are you drinking?”
“Why do you care?” You retort with a scowl.
“Because it cannot become a constant thing. You have duties.”
You groan once more, this time more exasperated. “It’s not a frequent thing, okay? It’s just this one time.”
He hesitates, seeming to know better than asking what he wants to ask. But, he asks anyway.
“Is it because my brother broke up with you?” He asks bluntly. He watches you pause for a second before whipping your head around to him with an offended look on your face.
“Well, people tend to get irrational after a break-up, and drinking is a common coping mech-”
You cut him off. “Stop it. Stop talking. I’m fine, alright? Mattheo breaking up with me was honestly a blessing. I don’t need to drink to get over it, I just want to have fun–” You start to ramble drunkenly, clearly trying to overcompensate.
He watches you awkwardly, posture rigid, trying to figure out if he can slip away from this conversation or if you’re sober enough to notice. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, you stop talking and stare at him, clearly waiting for something.
“Okay? That’s all you have to say?”
“Honestly I’m not sure what you want me to say.”
“I–” You pause and think, and then realise there’s not much for him to say, so you sigh and roll your eyes. “You’re infuriating. Why did you have to bring up Mattheo?”
“I was curious. I now realise that was a mistake.”
“You realise he broke up with you almost three weeks ago. Should you not be over it by now?”
“I am over it!” You snap suddenly, your eyes narrowing into a glare. Then you huff and your shoulders drop. “It’s just frustrating, okay? Since we broke up, guys refuse to even talk to me!” You exclaim.
“And—” your voice drops to a hiss “—I haven’t had sex in almost a month. Because everyone thinks Mattheo is some sort of psycho.”
Tom blinks, clearly a bit flustered. He averts his gaze, suddenly finding the floor across the common room very interesting. “I.. Sorry to hear that?” He answers.
You sigh and drop your head back against the couch. His gaze drifts to the rest of the party; the people drinking, grinding on each other, making out, dragging people back to their dorms. His top lip curls up into a subtle scowl. He looks back to you, brows furrowing. Tom has never understood parties, they are a distraction from your studies and your sleep. In that same way, he did not understand your relationship with his brother. Why? What was the need for a romantic relationship other than procreation, and he should hope that is not what his brother was trying with you.
That being said, Tom Riddle understands sex. Roughly. And not just for procreation; sex is pleasure, and who is he to deny himself pleasure? He’s a teenage boy, after all. “Y/N?” He asks.
You blink sharply, quickly sitting up, your expression startled. “What?” You say again, this time with more confusion than annoyance.
“Not for a relationship. As friends, I mean. Or..” he pauses for a moment. “Fuck buddies?” Is the expression he’s heard his friends use.
You continue to stare at him, expression unchanging. “…What?”
“It would make you feel better, correct?”
“I–” some heat creeps up on your cheeks. “I guess.”
“And you would stop missing your head girl duties. Win-win.”
Your gaze flits down. “That is not a good idea.”
“Why not?” He challenges. “We can make rules.”
“Do you even know how to have sex?”
“What?” He scoffs. “I’m not a virgin, Y/N.”
“Surprising,” you mutter under your breath.
“If you don’t want to, we won’t. But give me a good reason.”
You stare at him. He’s attractive, duh. And he offered. And you’ve heard rumors that he’s not exactly small.
“..Fine,” you finally concede. “But we need to have some rules.”
“First rule, we are not dating,” you say firmly. “Just fucking. We’re barely even friends.”
Tom nods, finding the crude language a bit unsettling but he pushes past it. “Second rule, we have to be safe. Are you on birth control?”
“Yup.” You were blushing fully now, the thought of Tom raw inside you making your stomach flip. “Third rule, nobody can know.”
“Okay,” he hesitates. “..Should we have a test round?”
“Right now!?” You squeak. “No! I’ll just.. text you, okay? But probably not tonight.” You stand up from the couch with a huff. “I need another drink,” you mumble as you walk away from him.
Tom is confused. He doesn’t understand why you wouldn’t have sex right now, he also can’t tell if that conversation was very easy or very hard. It’s not like he’s asked someone to be his ‘fuck buddy’ before. He would also really like to label it something different. His eyes drift to the crowd. Now that he’s here, he may as well go find his friends. They’ll be thrilled that he’s actually gone to an event for a change.
He weaves through the crowd of sweaty, dancing bodies, making his way towards his group of friends. Theo and Mattheo are arm wrestling (he doesn’t ask how that happened), Blaise and Draco are just chatting, and he can only assume that Lorenzo has gone off with a girl.
“Hello,” Tom greets, glancing sideways at Mattheo and Theodore.
“Hey!” Draco says ecstatically, clearly a bit tipsy. “You’re here!”
“You’re here?” Blaise repeats, sounding rightfully more confused than Draco.
Tom just hums in reply, thinking better than to mention your name around his brother.
After maybe an hour of Tom mingling (standing in the same spot with the same group of people), he decides enough is enough and starts to make his way back to his dorm. Despite his stature and his rather intimidating aura, he struggles to get through and ends up bumping into you.
You go to glare at him and make a snide remark as revenge for him bumping into you, but your expression changes when you realise it’s him.
“Hii Tom,” you slur, your words elongated. You were under-exaggerating when you said you were going to get another drink.
“Hello Y/N,” he says sharply.
You shift closer to him, almost resting your weight on him, peering up at him with glassy eyes. He can smell the alcohol on your breath. “Were you being serious about your offer earlier?” You whisper, though it’s more of a stage whisper or else it will get lost in the music.
“Then let’s go.” You grab one of his sleeves and start trying to tug him through the crowd.
“Wait-“ he puts a hand on your shoulder to stop you, “are you sure? You’re a lot more intoxicated than you were before.”
“Yes I’m sure,” you reply, annoyed at his second guessing. “Hurry up.”
He looks around, not seeing any of his friends, nods and lets you drag him away; like walking a dog and the dog starts pulling.
You drag him all the way to your dorm, which is across the hall from his own Head Boy dorm. You open the door and pull him inside, quickly shutting it behind you.
“What made you change your mind?” He asks.
You blankly stare at him for a moment. “Drinking.”
It’s awkward for a second because you’ve never had a hookup try to make small talk, but you push past it, both metaphorically and literally, by going up to him and kissing him.
You stand on your tiptoes, hands gripping his shoulders, manicured nails digging into his robe. He kisses you back without hesitation, tongue slipping past your lips and into your mouth. His hands find your face and tilt your head to the side. He groans into the kiss; you taste like firewhisky and lipgloss.
You step forwards, forcing him back until the back of his legs hit your bed and he sits down on it, not breaking the kiss as you climb on top of him.
“Fuck,” he breathes, feeling one of your hands thread into his black locks, fingertips curling.
“I thought you were lying about not being a virgin,” you giggle. “Maybe I’m wrong.”
He growls against your mouth, opening his eyes to glare at you. His hands travel down from your face, over your sides; the curve of your waist, your hips, your ass, and then back to your hips so he can force you to grind down on his growing tent.
You let out a quiet, breathy moan and he relishes in it. He continues to make you grind down on him as you take charge of the kiss, pushing him back to lay flat against your bed. “Take this fucking robe off,” you mumble in complaint against his lips, starting to undo the buttons.
You can practically feel him roll his eyes, but thankfully he doesn’t give you a lecture about ‘proper dress code’. He ditches the robe and then his sweater.
“Aren’t you hot under all those layers?” You mumble in almost-fascination, watching him unbutton his shirt.
“I am now,” he says under his breath. You laugh, leaning forward to kiss him again, running a hand over his now exposed mid-section as he throws the shirt onto your floor. A low groan reverberates in his throat, his head falling back. “Fuck.”
“Sensitive,” you tease with a giggle.
He glares at you. “Don’t start shit you can’t finish.” His voice is low and deep.
You raise your brows, this is very different from the Tom you usually see. The one who speaks in complete sentences and will tell people off for their uniform not being correct. The one who almost refuses to swear and you’ve never seen talk to a girl. The one who is currently groaning and shirtless in your bed right now.
You slink to the floor, getting on your knees in front of him. He raises a brow, spreading his legs a bit wider. “Don’t choke,” he murmurs with a smirk, his hands dropping to undo his fly. You can already tell that he’s big from the tent that’s currently in front of your face, but when he pulls his trousers and boxers down, you’re (wonderfully?) surprised. He’s massive; easily 7.something inches, relatively girthy, slightly curved with a vein running down the left side. You can see precum starting to bead at his tip.
“Fuck,” you murmur, swallowing.
“Can’t do it?” He challenges, sitting back on the bed, legs spread.
You glare up at him, wrapping a hand around the base and giving him a slow stroke. “‘Course I can.”
He smiles wickedly, the kind of relaxed, cocky smile that you’ve never seen from him. One of his big hands threads through your hair, pushing it back from your face as he gathers it into a makeshift ponytail at the back of your skull. You take a breath, sitting up a little straighter before taking the head in your mouth. You bob your head up and down with obscene slurping noises, taking more in, gagging as he involuntarily thrusts up into your throat. You use your hands to stroke the rest that you can’t reach.
He’s breathing heavily, eyes closed and head tipped back, occasionally letting out a groan or a curse, maybe even a whine. You can feel his fingers clench in your hair, presumably trying not to force your head down.
You pull up and gasp for air, still not having mastered the art of breathing through your nose. He whines at the loss of the wet heat, opening an eye to look at you. There’s drool running down your chin and your eye makeup is starting to smear from the sweat. You look gorgeous.
You give his tip a few kitten licks before sinking your mouth down on him again, a hand coming up to cup his balls. He groans, fingers tightening in your hair, thrusting up into your mouth a bit. You gag and your throat tightens around him which simply makes him groan again.
He can feel his balls start to tighten as he gets close. “Fuck- clo- mmph- close..” he makes out, syllables broken as he bites in his bottom lip trying not to make too much noise.
Hearing that spurs you on, you work him more aggressively, tightening your grip on his cock. And it works.
“‘m com-“ the words are cut off by a loud moan as he paints your throat with spurts of hot, white come. You swallow as much as you can, pulling off with a pop. He lets go of your hair, seeing the mix of drool and come on your lips makes him grin, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he breathes.
You two stare at each other for a second, both breathing heavily before he pats his lap, gesturing for you to come back up into the bed. You stand up, pulling the straps of your far too short black dress off your shoulders and shimmying out of it. It leaves you in a matching black lacy set. It makes Tom’s eyes light up.
He grabs your hips, pulling you back onto the bed and onto his lap. He leans forward to capture your lips in a kiss and promptly flips you two over. He grabs one of your pillows and shoves it under your pelvis, his hands making their way to your hips and he pulls down your underwear.
He smirks when he sees how wet you are.
“Dripping already? Now who’s the virgin.”
His gaze shifts from you to your nightstand. “Condom?”
“I’m on the pill. Hurry up!”
He looks back at you. “You sure?”
“Yes!” You huff, your hips shifting restlessly.
He leans over you, lining himself up and slowly pushing in.
You whine, one hand clawing at his forearm and the other curling into the sheets.
“You’re big,” you whimper, eyes scrunching shut.
“I know baby, I know,” he coos, pushing further in, watching your hole suck his cock in. “But it hurts so good, doesn’t it?”
One of his hands moves to your face, squeezing your cheeks and forcing you to look at him as he bottoms out.
You’re already panting and whining just from the stretch, and it doesn’t help when he leans over you more and practically folds you in half.
You nod, trying to speak but it just comes out in a broken whimper.
He laughs darkly, thrusting into you without mercy. The sound of your moaning and whining and skin slapping against skin fills the room. Your fingers grip the sheets, looking for mercy.
He grips your hips, fingers digging into your skin as he fucks you rougher than Mattheo ever could, his tip hitting that gummy spot inside you that makes you see white.
“Right fuckin’ pussy,” he murmurs, noticing your stomach bulging slightly from him. One hand leaves your hip to press down on the bulge which makes you whimper.
“Feel that baby? Feel me in there?” He pants.
“Yes!” You cry, eyes rolling to the back of your head. “H-a-ah.. fuuck-“
He laughs which turns into a moan as you clench around him. One of his hands moves down to your puffy clit, running short circles on it and watching you twitch and arch in response. The other travels up to play with your peaked nipples.
His brows are creased, mouth open, clearly focusing on trying not to bust right now from the way you’re moaning and creaming around him, a frothy white ring around his cock.
He can feel you starting to clench around his cock, clearly getting close.
“Mmh.. You close?” He manages out, watching you nod frantically in response.
His thrusts get more measured at that confrontation, trying to get as deep as possible before he finally feels you cry out something broken and then come, clenching tightly around his cock, your body shaking and twitching. He fucks you through it, feeling his own release imminent as you tighten, and he comes inside you once more.
He collapses on top of you, panting aggressively and feeling you do the same under him.
He pulls out after a while, rolling over next to you.
“Still think I’m a virgin?” He asks, giving you a teasing glance.
“Shut up,” you whine weakly.
He laughs, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you closer, bringing your head to rest on his chest.
You look fucked out and blissful, clearly you weren’t lying about not having been fucked in a while.
“Are you alright?” He asks, brushing some hair from your face that is still covered in come, sweat, drool, and now some tears. “Do you want some water?” He’s starting to sound more like the Tom you recognise.
You shake your head, burying closer to him. “No ‘s fine. I wanna go to bed.”
He nods, gently running a hand through your hair. “Okay. Good night Y/N.”
“Mmh.. g’night,” you mumble.
