The Last of Your Rules ★ T.M.R/Reader ★

Part One

Riddle's hands pull up your skirt, his fingers sliding into your underwear and then he's touching you, slow and insistent, and you can't stop your head falling back onto the wall as you bite your lip. Riddle leans in closer, watching you with interest. He likes to watch you – you think that it might be a power thing, that he likes seeing the effect he's having on you. He likes watching you when you're on your knees for him, too.

He'll approach you once or twice a week, sometimes in person, mostly with notes, always under the polite pretense of study, and no one ever glances twice – Riddle is a prefect and a perfect student, every Professor loves him, and he's the very epitome of responsibility. In fact, the only response you ever get about your 'study sessions' is (like Felicia and Opal) gushing over how lucky you are to have garnered the absolute privilege of catching Tom Riddle's attention.

It's sort of amusing to you how ridiculously popular he is, considering he never speaks to anyone and doesn't seem to have any real friends. He's popular the same way a movie star is popular; beautiful and distant, the perfect creature upon which everyone could build their ideal fantasy. No one seemed to notice that he's strangely empty, like a shell.

You're burning beneath his fingers in mere moments, gasping as the feeling swelled and swelled, and Riddle's attentive gaze is fixed on you as it breaks over you like a wave and sends you into white oblivion. When you can finally open your eyes, Riddle is right above your lips, his dark eyes still heavy on your face – but he doesn't kiss you. You don't expect him to. It would be breaking one of his rules. Riddle has a lot of strange, silent rules, so much so that you'd made a mental list of them during those first few weeks and followed them ever since.

You drop to your knees before him and quickly undo his belt, pushing aside his trousers and leaning in to close your lips around him.

Rule One: kissing before and during sex was okay, but never afterwards.

Riddle's fingers slide into your hair and you know without looking up that he's watching you closely. He knows that you enjoy doing this.

Rule Two: Leave immediately afterwards, don't linger

He rests a hand on the wall above you, and you look up at him as you twist your tongue around him, meeting his heavy, heated gaze and feeling his grip in your hair get tighter.

Rule Three: Never talk to him outside of your meetings.

You keep looking up at him as you hollow out your cheeks, holding back a gag as you press deeper, watching Riddle's eyes flicker darkly.

Rule Four: He asks you to meet, and never the other way around.

When you smirk up at him, he exhales hard, his eyes finally falling shut, and a low, unimaginably arousing breath falls from his lips as he finishes, his fingers in your hair curling so tight that it hurts in the best possible way.

And then there's Rule Five...

You stand, adjust your uniform, smooth down your hair, and pick up your bag. "See you in class," you say, glancing at him.

Riddle nods wordlessly, turning and leaning back against the wall, still breathing slightly heavily. You open the door and slip out, trotting off towards your common room. You still have a Transfiguration essay to finish.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

The next morning, a piece of parchment appeared on your Charms textbook. You pause for a second and then reach out to unfold it.