Author's Note: Here is my (late) entry for Tomione Smut Fest created by one of our queens, weestarmeggie! A big shoutout to her for keeping me on track ever since I started this piece and for encouraging me. Also, a big shoutout to a friend, who wishes to remain anonymous at the moment, for writing the entire sex scene from dinner onwards for me when she noticed me stressing out in class.

Enjoy, you lovely hoes.

THERE WILL BE A PART II.


Hermione knew she was fucked the moment she was grading one of her student's midterm papers and recognized the handwriting in a much more intimate way than was appropriate.

It was the same small, neat handwriting that was inscribed on her inner, right thigh and drew her curiosity as a child.

TMR.

She glanced at the name on the cover page.

Tom Marvolo Riddle.

Oh, she was fucked and she knew it because after that, she couldn't stop noticing him during her lectures and the sight of him, knowing who he was to her, was enough to make her hot and flustered.

She thought that maybe he'd know because when she turned around to write on the board or reference to her lecture, she could feel his eyes all over her body, as if he was undressing her right there in the middle of her own lecture hall.

Hermione shouldn't have been as thrilled as she was whenever she felt his eyes on her like that, but she couldn't help it. Her body had a mind of its own.

She felt inane, as lectures that she used to be excited to teach, became a chore as she attempted to finish them as quickly as possible to avoid being that close to him without having him in the way she wanted.

Because the moment that she was alone and she knew that no one would disturb her, her hands would trail down her stomach towards her folds where her fingers would spread her lips before she pressed down on her clit, and permitted herself to feel that delicious pleasure. She would get into a rhythm, pressing down hard and letting it up lightly before repeating, over and over. Her other hand would grip at her breasts, pulling and pinching at her brown nipples, a mixture of pleasure and pain.

As her fingers slipped into her quim, she would imagine her soulmate's hands rather than her own pistoning in and out of her cunt, closing her eyes as she thought of his head in between her thighs, pressing a kiss to the initials that marked her as his, before delving in and laving his tongue on her clit. His tongue would sweep up and down the sensitive bud as she shuddered, gripping his hair. She'd fall apart on his tongue, screaming his name all the while and would feel him press a smirk against those initials of his.

When the pleasure finally receded, she'd lean up and give him a kiss, tasting herself on his lips before she'd move the two of them so that she'd be straddling his lap. Her hands would wander all over the sharp edges and soft curves of him, ingraining him in her mind.

She imagined what it would be like to suck on his cock, to have it stretch her mouth until her jaw ached. She heard rumors about Tom Riddle and the way the other students respected him, feared him even, and the thought of having a man like that fall apart on her lips electrified her.

Hermione would wrap her lips around his length, swallowing it all until her nose reached his pubic area before withdrawing. She'd make sure she'd tease him, to make him beg as she swirled her tongue around the weeping tip of his cock, before he'd have enough and would pull her to her legs before him, a fierce look in his eyes at her behavior.

He'd lay her down on her bed and he'd press reverent kisses along her body, lacing his fingers into her own and pinning down her hands. He wouldn't warn her before he'd slowly press into her warmth, taking his time to return the favor for the teasing she had done earlier. He'd make her beg for the roughness that she'd want; he'd have her trembling at the edge of precip, of falling into the exquisite pleasure before he'd thrust hard and have her screaming his name like a prayer.

Hermione liked to think of herself as very independent woman, but the thought of letting him play her like a violin for both of their pleasures pushed her past the brink. Her back arched beautifully as her body shook, her eyes snapping open as a loud moan tore from her lips.

"Tom," the sound was guttural and she continued to shake as the aftermath of her orgasm continued to run its course.

She came down from the high and found that she was dissatisfied.

He was hers and she was his.

She wanted - no - she needed him.

The worst part was that, even though he was her student and she hated the idea of needing anyone, she didn't care.

She'd have to have him.


Tom had known for over a year now that she was his.

His soulmate, he meant. At first, he denied the plausibility of it being her. It was merely a coincidence that the initials HJG were marked on the skin right over his left hip bone in her handwriting since birth. And her name was Hermione Jean Granger.

Merely a coincidence.

She was his political science professor and if anything, she would laugh in his face if he claimed her as his. He could just imagine how she would react.

Her honey eyes would narrow ever so slightly as her pink lips pursed in disapproval. Her arms would cross her chest as her weight shifted to her left hip. Her nostrils would flair slightly as she spoke in that know-it-all tone of hers.

"Mister Riddle, this is highly unprofessional and if you had any modicum of respect for me as your professor, you would stop this foolishness immediately and cease to make any more claims of this kind."

Professor Granger was a rather uptight person, really. Her unruly hair was always tamed into a low bun that sat on the nape of her neck and she wore pantsuits everyday with short, practical heels. She was adamant about her students maintaining only a professional relationship with her and thus, kept longer office hours than her colleagues to prevent meeting with her students outside of that time.

But after the summer break of his junior year, he knew that he was just as much hers as she was his. Tom had run into his swotty professor while she was tanning on the coast of Albania wearing a white, one-piece bathing suit with her wild hair set loose down her back. His cock twitched at the sight of her delicate curves on display under the bright sun.

He didn't hesitate to make his way over to her.

"Professor Granger," he greeted, "What a surprise! Are you on vacation as well?"

She visibly startled at the sound of his voice before she quickly moved her hand to cover something on her inner, right thigh, but it was too late. He likely would not even noticed it if she didn't make a move to cover it.

In his own handwriting, he could see the initials of his name inscribed neatly at where she tried to hide it from him.

"Hello, Mister Riddle," she returned, clearing her throat and pulling his attention to her face rather than her thigh, "What are you doing here?"

His eyes raked over her body again as he tilted his head to the side, staring curiously at her.

"How long have you known?" He asked.

A coy smile pulled at her lips as Hermione sat up and returned his stare.

"How long have I known what?"

"That you were mine."

Her eyes flashed angrily at his statement and she huffed as she got up. She stood right under his chin, but in that moment, she seemed as tall as he was.

"Allow me to set one thing straight, Mister Riddle. I belong to no one and if you want me, you will have to earn me."

He always thought that she was beautiful, but with his name marking her thigh and her cheeks flushed from the heat, he thought she looked like a goddess.

He smirked at her, "Professor, I have always worked hard for the things I want. Enjoy the rest of your day."

Tom hurried back to his hotel room and stroked himself to thought of her, to the thought of having her. He closed his eyes, envisioning his palm as hers instead. His hand moved slowly over his length, teasing as he imagined his professor and soulmate's soft, brown eyes alight with mischief and lust as she manipulated his pleasure.

"Fuck," he sighed as he rubbed the slit on his cock, spreading his precum and gripping it tighter as his strokes became faster.

Phantom sounds of breathy moans and cries of pleasure filled his ears as he continued to grip and pull, thinking of the white, one-piece clinging to her supple curves and his initials marking her thigh.

He wanted to bury his head in between those beautiful, tan thighs and to make her body quiver as she climaxed for him, to lap at all the juices that would spill as her fingers pulled at his hair in complete ecstasy.

He thought of her full, pink lips and how much better they would look wrapped around his cock as he snapped his hips against her face with his fingers buried in her hair, imagining her choking on it until he was right on the edge and he'd pull her off her knees.

He'd kiss her lips, savoring how swollen they had become in taking in his cock, while he buried his fingers into her cunt, finding that sweet spot that would make her shudder and whimper until she tightened and then shattered beautifully for him, for his pleasure.

"Mine," he grunted, his hips jerking at the thought of when she would be his in every sense of the word, of when he would bury himself inside her and pound into her warmth. He wanted her moans and her screams and just the mere thought of fucking and making love to Hermione Granger had him spilling all over himself, ropes of thick, white cum landing on his chest and stomach.

He took a shuddering breath as he came down from his high.

It wasn't enough.

Now that he knew for certain that she was as much his as he was hers, it would never be enough again.

He was all hers and he needed her.


She was eating dinner in the resort's restaurant when he saw her that night, memories of what he imagined in his hotel room rushing back to him when she met his eyes.

He met her stare and held it longer than he knew she'd comfortable with. To his surprise, she kept her gaze leveled with his own and the air grew thicker with tension as they continued on.

He could see her inner turmoil playing out on her face as she contemplated pulling away. Her honey eyes whirled with a range of emotions and he knew that he shouldn't want his professor in this way, but he couldn't help himself.

Tom continued his stare as he sauntered over her, taking in the navy dress that hugged her body in ways that showed all her curves without being overtly obscene. As his eyes made their way down her body, he noticed that her nude high-heeled sandals were much higher than those ones she usually wore during lectures.

He dick hardened slightly at the thought of her wearing nothing but those sandals while her buried himself into her.

He reached her table, and before he could help himself, "good evening, professor, dining alone tonight?"

He was being bold, he knew that much, but he needed to know. His need to be near her, to be with her, to be surrounded by her very being was making him ache in places he didn't know he could feel.

She seemed startled at his words but smiled tightly at him, gesturing at a copy of Pride and Prejudice sitting across from her without responding.

Tom tilted his head, "it seems that you are in good company. professor. Perhaps we can discuss literature in the near future rather than debate politics."

She seemed to be contemplating her words as she continued to train that molten stare on him before she stood up rather suddenly and stepped up towards him.

"I could use some fresh air, Mister Riddle. I'm going to go for a walk along the beach this evening."

He held his breath, waiting for an invite from her. He watched as she walked away from him before she looked at him over her shoulder, a flirtatious smile pulling at her lips, "aren't you going to join me?"

He didn't hesitate as he followed her, staring unabashedly at her firm ass as he walked behind her. She kicked off her heels as she reached the water, allowing it to lap at her feet when he positioned himself right behind her.

"I know you know," he murmured quietly.

He could feel the heat radiating off her body.

"I know," she replied, equally quiet. Silence followed the statement as she reached down to pick up a shell that the surf just revealed. As she stood up, he pressed his body flush against her and inhaled the smell of her jasmine perfume.

He couldn't help his body's reaction as his hard dick pressed into her ass. She turned around and a hesitant smile graced her face as she pressed herself into him.

"We belong together, don't we?" she asked.

That was all he needed before he bent down to kiss her. His lips pressed softly into hers before deepening, interlocking his fingers into her hair to pull her closer to him. The world seemed to close in on them and nothing mattered except for the feel of her soft body aligned with his own and the small noises that she kept making.

A large wave crashed onto the beach and startled them.

Hermione gasped at the coolness and Tom, taking advantage of her open mouth, pushed his tongue in deeper, enjoying the sweet taste of her lips. Not wanting her to get too wet from the sea, he reached down and gripped her ass before picking her up. He carried her up the beach as she continued to devour his lips until they met the soft sand. As he settled her down on her feet, she dropped to her knees in front of him.

She smiled at him and he swore that the world could burn in that moment and he would not have cared.

"You saw mine," Hermione said as she brushed her fingers against his hips, "it's only fair that I get to see yours."

He hesitated before he pulled off his shirt and drew her attention to his left hip bone. He shuddered as she kissed it gently before undoing his belt and pulling his pants down deftly. His breath quickened as she lightly trailed her hands down his legs and breathed over his erection. Her fingers traced the initials on his body as she stared up at him.

He knew she wanted to be in control but he had waited so long for her, he grabbed for her hands and positioned them in a way that had her straddling him. He wanted to feel her fall apart for him.

He leaned back to cup her face and planted his lips on hers, moving his hands up her firm legs and brushing up against her soaking panties. When his fingers met the wet fabric, a guttural moan escaped his lips.

"You're so wet for me, baby," he grunted.

She moved back to smirk at him and he took advantage of her exposed neck as he massaged her through her panties.

"Look at me," Tom ordered.

She obeyed immediately and he watched in satisfaction at the pleasure that washed over her face as he slowly sank one, then two, of his fingers into her weeping cunt.

She clenched around his fingers and he knew that he would be done for the moment her pussy wrapped around his dick. Her eyes closed and he gently tugged at her hair, forcing her to open her eyes. They stared at each other as he moved his hands in and out of her, rubbing circles around her clit with his thumb. The insistent pressure and his lips running across her body had her cumming in seconds. Keeping his eyes on her, he removed his hand and sucked them clean.

"How do I taste?" she asked, her voice rough with lust.

"Delicious," he told her wickedly.

A wanton moan fell from her lips and she moved him to kiss him before standing and stripping herself of her clothes quickly. Tom leaned forward and ran his nose along her slit and inhaled deeply. As he reached her clit, his tongue darted out and started to circle and press down. He quickly pulled her back down to his lap and pressed her against his hard cock. His lips found her nipples and he took his time licking each one, swirling his tongue around it until they stood firm.

He nipped at them lightly, smirking as she gasped.

She was grinding into him now and he took the time to look at the woman that he spent lectures fantasizing about. She placed her hands on his shoulders and he groaned as she lowered herself until his tip was placed at her entrance. His hands tightened at her waist as she slowly lowered herself onto him so that his tip was engulfed in her.

He loved watching her face as she took more and more of him into her pussy. As she sank onto him, taking all of his cock into her pussy, she opened her eyes in surprise as her hips met his. She was so tight and all thoughts fled his mind as she told him to fuck her.

Her words were his undoing as he gripped her waist and moved her up and down, tilting his pelvis as he went so that he was deeper. She moved too, her hands on his shoulders allowed her to time her movements to his. The only sound on the beach was their breathing, the waves, and skin slapping against skin. He moved one of his hands to her clit and felt her walls flutter around him.

Adjusting their clothes so that she would not touch the sand, he laid her onto her back without slipping out. He moved her legs onto his shoulders, her feet by his ears so that he was on his knees, holding her up by her ass.

He began to pound into her in earnest, reveling in the moans that she gave him. He thrusted into her velvety warmth and felt it continuing to grip his dick. He bent down to capture one nipple in his mouth as he continued to fuck her, sparks of lightning trailing down his spine with each moan that she made.

"You're mine," he whispered against her breast.

"And you are mine," she whispered back.

He knew he couldn't last long like this and picked up the pace, wanting to make sure that reach that dizzy finish before he did. Without warning, her pussy gripped on his dick hard as she groaned his name. He followed right after her, feeling himself shoot thick ropes of cum into her.

He stayed buried in her even as he softened and stared at her. He dropped her legs, eventually, and leaned forward to kiss her. He watched with much primal satisfaction as his cum dripped from her pussy when he slid out. Darting to a cabana, he grabbed towels to help clean her up.

She stared up at him with sleepy eyes as he scooped her up in his arms.

"You're coming back with me," she murmured, "I've decided."