Manifesting A Pretty Masc Girlfriend That Plays Guitar

𝐀 𝐌𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐕𝐮𝐥𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲

fluff| Tom Riddle | ༉‧₊˚🕯️🖤❀༉‧₊˚.| | Tom Riddle Masterlist | Masterlist

Summary: Y/N asks Tom Riddle for something he's never given—comfort. Though hesitant, Tom awkwardly mimics a gesture of affection, pulling her into an embrace. As warmth spreads between them, Tom battles with unfamiliar feelings of connection, but when Y/N pulls away, he struggles to hide his desire for the closeness to return.

Word Count: 718

Tom Riddle was always observant, his sharp mind attuned to even the smallest changes in the people around him. And today, something about Y/N was… off. She wasn’t her usual self, quieter than normal, and there was a subtle tension in her movements that hadn’t escaped his notice. They sat together in the dim common room, the fire crackling softly in the hearth, casting flickering shadows across the stone walls. He studied her closely, brows furrowed.

"Tom," Y/N's voice broke the silence, soft and hesitant. She glanced at him, eyes pleading in a way she rarely allowed herself to show. "Can I have a hug?"

For a moment, he stiffened. A hug? Tom had never been one for displays of affection. It wasn’t something that came naturally to him. His mind raced, trying to recall if he had ever seen anyone in his life offer comfort in such a simple gesture. But none of that mattered now, not with her looking at him like that. Still, he hesitated, unsure, his body rigid with discomfort.

When Y/N reached out, her hand brushing his shoulder, he instinctively tensed. Yet, before he could pull away or say something cold to mask his uncertainty, she leaned in, pulling him gently toward her. Something in the way she clung to him—like he was her anchor in a storm—made him react.

Tom moved awkwardly at first, imitating what he'd seen others do, slipping one arm around her back and, after a beat of hesitation, placing the other behind her head. He'd seen people embrace like this, hadn’t he? It seemed… right, though foreign. Y/N nestled against him, her warmth seeping through his robes, and despite himself, Tom found the rigid lines of his posture beginning to soften.

At first, every fiber of his being resisted the closeness, but as the seconds ticked by, something strange began to happen. His body slowly relaxed, the tension in his shoulders easing as the unfamiliar warmth spread through him. He didn’t understand it, didn’t quite know how to process the sensation of having her so close, but it wasn’t unpleasant. In fact, there was a certain peace in it, a calm that settled over him, one he hadn't anticipated.

Tom Riddle was not used to comfort—neither receiving it nor giving it—but as he held her, the scent of her hair and the gentle rise and fall of her breathing made something inside him shift. He didn’t want to admit it, not even to himself, but he was… enjoying this. The closeness, the contact, her trust in him.

And then, just as he was getting used to the feeling, Y/N pulled away. Tom's arms, which had grown accustomed to holding her, instantly felt cold in her absence. He couldn’t stop the slight furrow of his brow as she moved out of his grasp, nor the faint flicker of displeasure that crossed his features.

“I’m sorry,” Y/N murmured, as if she thought she had overstayed her welcome in his arms. She gave him a small, tentative smile, unaware of the internal battle waging within him.

Tom sat still for a moment, his eyes narrowing slightly. "I hated that," he said, his voice flat and emotionless, as if he was making a simple statement of fact.

Y/N blinked, a look of mild surprise flickering across her face. “Oh… okay.”

She started to turn away, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes, something he didn’t let slip often. Desperation, maybe? He quickly masked it, but not before it left an imprint on his thoughts. He hadn’t hated it. No, the truth was far more uncomfortable to admit: he wanted her to do it again. Desperately.

But Tom Riddle was not one to give in to such vulnerabilities. Instead, he scowled and crossed his arms, his tone curt, almost irritated. "I mean, it's pointless. There's no need for such… gestures."

But the way his eyes lingered on her, how his body seemed to slightly tilt in her direction even as he tried to maintain his cold composure, told a different story. Deep inside, buried beneath layers of control and calculated indifference, Tom knew he craved that closeness again. He wouldn’t admit it, not now, but the memory of her warmth remained, and he silently hoped she’d reach for him again.

WILD.

CAN YOU MAKE A STORY ABOUT MATT AND HIS GF, THEY HAVE SEX AT A RESTAURANT, SHES SITTING ON HIS LAP AND COCKWARMING AND THEN THEY HAVE CAR SEX AND CHRIS CATCHES THEM THEN WHEN THEY GET BACK TO THE HOUSE CHRIS FUCKS MATTS GF VERY VERY VERY VERY VERY SMUT FILLED

PURE ECSTASY (part one)

read part two here

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: bf!soft dom!matt, pervert!dom!chris x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: a friend throws a birthday party at the club, but the night doesn’t end there. or with your boyfriend.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: PURE FILTH, swearing, p in v, cockwarming, public sex, unprotected sex (wrap it up!), slight spit kink, oral (female receiving), getting caught, fingering, finger sucking, cheating (please don’t!), degradation, spanking, choking, sex tape, hair pulling, daddy kink, dumbification, overstimulation, breeding, begging kink, stomach bulge, ROUGHHH ASF

THIS IS NOT A THREESOME!

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3,017

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: THIS REQUEST😟 (i love it) my new favorite fic holy moly it’s also ovulation week and when that happens i become one with the smut.

hope it’s okay that it’s at a club except restaurant!

for @sturniololovers :)

chatter fills around the booth, and the group gets ready to sit. it’s your friend’s 21st birthday, and of course she chose a club. the volume of the music and drunk people around make it extremely loud that you have to scream to talk to somebody.

purple, blue, and pink lights illuminate throughout the place, and the dance floor is packed with people. most of your friend group already made it to the bar or by the DJ, including nick, madi, and nate. chris sets his jacket down by everybody else’s stuff.

“i’m going to get a pepsi and join the others on the floor. you guys staying here?” he talks over the music, pointing behind him.

“for now.” matt replies, for some reason shimmying in his seat slightly. you shake it off as he tries to get comfortable, waving at chris as he walks off.

the two of you talk, some friends coming and going from the booth to put drinks down or mingle with you guys.

you lean into matt’s side, smiling at what he’s saying. he places his hand on your thigh, making you nuzzle into him more. “sit on my lap.” he says abruptly.

you’re confused, but lift yourself off of the seat to slide yourself to hover over your boyfriend’s lap. he guides your hips down, and you gasp from the sudden stretch.

he smirks. you’re not wearing any panties.

his pants were just past his dick, the thing that your sitting on right now. you feel it growing inside you, cockwarming him in the middle of the club. “matt, we’re in public.” you whine.

he only shrugs. the dress you’re wearing is long enough to cover your sides, so if somebody looks over it seems that you’re innocently sitting on his lap.

“love the way you feel.” he groans in your ear, subtly squeezing your tit.

you glance around mortified, wondering if people can see you. the spot you guys chose is against the wall in the back, but it’s not like you’re invisible. “ride my cock, baby.”

this is crazy you think, but still grip onto the edge of the table anyway. you’ve learned your lesson multiple times before whenever you disobeyed matt, and if you did this time, he’ll likely spread you out on the table and fuck you so everybody can purposely see.

you start by grinding, gasping whenever his girth rubs against your walls. the way he feels already has you clenching. your arousal starts to coat his base, a sign for you to start bouncing.

not so hard, but softly. the grip you have on the table help you steady yourself. you can feel your face turning red, still looking around the club through your lashes. you like the thrill of somebody seeing you guys, but it’s also horrifying.

your head falls between your shoulders to hide your face of pleasure. moans lowly fall from your mouth, your eyes rolling back each time his tip brushes against your g-spot. “o-oh, matt, baby.” you moan in a high pitch, biting your lip when somebody walks by.

thank the lord people are too tipsy or distracted to look over here. you shake in his lap, another pitched moan flowing through the air. you exhale, lifting your head so it rests on the side of matt’s cheek.

he kisses your temple. “go ahead, baby. cum on my cock.”

whimpering, your orgasm washes through your body and onto his dick. you sigh of relief, catching your breath at the same time. “gonna cum in this beautiful cunt.” matt grunts when he twitches inside you.

you squirm, mumbling something along the lines of it spilling out of you. “don’t worry about that, honey. i’ll take care of it soon.”

the bottom of your dress is hoisted past your stomach, matt’s hold on your legs firm as you’re spread out in the backseat of the minivan.

by ‘taking care of it soon’, he meant cleaning it up for you.

the club’s music still bumps to the beat of the song it’s playing, even if you guys are in the parking lot.

you twitch beneath him, your eyes crossing and mouth agape. his tongue works wonders between your legs. you still feel sensitive from your previous orgasm from inside the club, the same orgasm that leaks around his lips as he digs into your needy hole.

soft moans and whimpers escape you, the windows fogging up from the heavy breathing and sweat.

he pulls away, bringing his face to hover over yours. he’s smiling foolishly at your trance. your arousal glistens around his mouth, his hair disheveled. “think you can take me again?”

you grip onto his biceps when he starts railing into you, your face scrunching up. you squeeze your eyes shut, but they open as soon as his hand grabs your jaw. “open your mouth.”

you obey, and he spits in it before kissing you open-mouthed. he consumes your sounds, the way your bodies are conjoined causes a slap noise every time his hips meet your pelvis.

bang bang bang.

the both of you jump at the fist hitting against the window, stopping in position. even though the windows are fogged, matt can tell who it is.

he rolls his eyes and sighs heavily. “what do you want, chris? we’re kind of in the middle of something, here.”

“stop fucking and open the goddamn door. i need my chapstick.” there’s silence. “and don’t be naked.”

matt pulls your dress down, zippering his pants. he crawls to the front seat to unlock the door.

the door immediately swings open, chris leaning on the passenger's side to grab his chapstick that’s in the cup holder.

you tap your fingers on your chest, patiently waiting for this weird encounter to be over. you see chris in your vision, looking at you. you could’ve sworn you saw his eyes scan your body, but you’re not entirely sure.

“sorry to break this up but you guys need to head back in. everybody’s looking for you,” he says before leaving.

what a buzzkill.

lil skies music blasts throughout the house, scaring you awake from your sleep. it’s the early morning, around 3 AM.

you’re spending the night at the triplet’s house, your dress now substituted with one of matt’s shirts. you must’ve fallen asleep on the couch because once you adjust to the dark you realize you’re in the living room.

you check your phone, squinting at the sudden brightness.

my boy💙

went out on a long drive, i’ll pick up some mcdonald’s when i’m on my way back :)

2:47 AM

and you know nick’s staying over at madi’s tonight, so the culprit for the disruption is no other than chris sturniolo.

you groggily lift yourself off the couch, shuffling your way down the hall. you don’t bother knocking, and you make your way into chris’s room. his back is facing you, the tone in his muscles showing.

you clench your thighs without knowing.

he’s doing something on his phone when you mumble, but he clearly can’t hear you.

“can you turn that down? i’m trying to sleep,” you say louder, and he turns his head to you. he pauses the music, walking over.

“what?”

“please lower that. you woke me up,” you say lowly, staring at your feet.

he chuckles. “sorry.”

he takes his finger and lifts your chin so you look at him, his eyes set on your mouth as he takes his thumb and grazes it over your bottom lip. “you’re not as much of a prude as i thought.”

“e-excuse me?!” you stutter shockingly, another chuckle coming from the boy.

“you think i don’t know that you rode my brother in the middle of the club? then you guys went to the car to finish the job, no?”

your face goes pale. you understand how he knows about the car since he caught you guys, but not when you were at the club.

“h-how do you—”

“i observe.” he cuts you off. “i watched the way you bounced on his dick. can’t forget the pretty sounds i heard from the cracked window matt forgot to close.”

your cheeks become hot, your thighs yet again squeezing tight.

“thank you.” chris smiles at the bartender, spinning himself in the barstool to look around the club. this isn’t quite his scene, but he couldn’t miss out on a friend’s birthday.

he sips his pepsi, his elbow resting on the bar’s surface before landing his eyes on where your guy’s seats are.

you’re bouncing subtly on matt’s lap, face turning in different expressions.

chris grabs his crotch, his dick twitching in his pants as it threatens to grow at the sight. he’s not stupid and knows exactly what you’re doing.

his brother whispers something into your ear before placing you back next to him and taking your hand to walk out of the building.

he waits a few minutes before following you guys, leaving a tip for the bartender before doing so.

the van catches his eye instantly, the windows slowly becoming fogged and moans echoing in the air. your moans, the moans he wants to cause more than anything.

his plan to not get hard fails when his pants tighten, the sinful sounds becoming more intense when the car starts to rock.

before he knows it, he’s jogging over and banging on the window.

“you-you pervert!” you shout, wanting to remove chris’ stupid thumb from your lips; but you don’t. he hums, leaning to where his lips ghost yours.

“yet you’re turned on by it.” he whispers. “you’re telling me you’re not dripping between your legs right now?”

“i-i’m not.”

he takes his other hand and reaches under the shirt, his theory confirmed true.

he smirks. you’re not wearing any panties.

the same smirk matt had in the club when he realized you were bare underneath. your boyfriend matt. his fucking brother.

pull yourself together, y/n.

“you sure?” chris says, passionately connecting his lips with yours. he rubs two fingers on your slick slit, your breath hitching.

pull. yourself. together. y/n.

he rubs once more before inserting the fingers into you, making you break the kiss and moan pathetically.

the thumb that was on your lip now goes into your mouth, and you suck on it. your hands bunch on his chest.

he lifts one of your legs to make his fingers plunge deeper into you, curling to hit the right spot. the leg he’s holding quivers desperately. “is the needy bitch going to cum on my fingers?”

you hum approvingly on his thumb before he removes it, your eyes never leaving contact with his. you tense, smearing your white liquid on his fingers.

brain foggy, you grumble two syllables. he heard you right, but wants to hear it loud and clear. “what was that?”

“fuck me.”

because he certainly doesn’t have to be told twice, he picks you up and props your ass up on his mattress.

he unties his plaid pajama bottoms, grabs your neck, and shoves your face into the pillows. he smacks your ass. hard.

“such a bad girl.” he slaps again, aligning his tip with your entrance. “gonna let me fuck you, even though you’re dating my brother.”

he spanks you three more times, tears building up in your eyes from the pleasurable pain. you grip onto the pillows when he starts to slowly fill you.

you utterly hate to admit this, but he’s bigger than matt. you gasp loudly, your pussy morphing into the shape of his dick when he’s in.

he throws his head back, eyes closed as he smiles smugly. he’s been wanting to do this for months.

his hips start rutting into you harshly, squeals leaving your lips the deeper he gets.

it gets to the point where he pulls out to just the tip and slams back into you. he repeats this action over and over again.

you bite down on the pillow to suppress your loud moans, the headboard banging against the wall.

he squeezes your throat tighter. “you filthy fucking thing.”

his hand meets your asscheek once again, and your body shakes from a sob. “he-e’s coming— back— soon.” you manage to say between whines.

“good.” his tip reaches your spot, your toes curling at the bliss. “maybe he can walk in to see his girl creaming all over my cock instead of his.”

once he said that you smear your release around him. his jaw slacks, quickly grabbing his phone that he threw on the bed the moment you came in.

you came in just as he was about to pull up your instagram — like he always does — whenever he needs something to masturbate to.

this, however, is so much better.

“c-cumming inside you.” he moans lowly, shooting his load deep into you.

his thrusts become slow, panning the camera to the mess you guys just made. “christ.” he whispers, pulling out to watch you leak his cum. “look at that.”

you’re not able to catch your breath when he’s fucking into you again. this time, faster.

hoarsely whimpering, he removes the hand from your neck and instead grabs your hair. he pulls your head up from the pillows, your moans now echoing throughout the room.

chris brings the camera in front of your face so you can see yourself.

you’re completely wrecked, strands of hair that he’s not holding all up in your face. your mouth’s open wide, spit dangling from your bottom lip and onto the sheets below. eyes rolling back when that familiar spot gets hit, spilling tears.

“say hi to matt, ma.”

“mm— h-hi matt,” you say incoherently, chris letting go of your hair, your head falling face down back on the pillows.

he brings the phone to his face, still drilling into you like he’s never going to stop.

he grins at the camera, lips swollen and red. “this pussy’s fucking incredible. thanks for letting me use her, man.”

he props his phone against the lamp on his nightstand, making sure to have a good angle. especially of the shirt you're wearing, specifically matt’s pink shirt with a teddy bear on it. the shirt that he loves on you.

“daddy!” you whimper, too late to take it back. “g-gonna cum, daddy.”

you let out a series of scream-like moans, chris hissing from the back.

“fuck, don’t do that to me.” he exhales, throbbing in your cunt. “you’re so fucking tight. all of this cum for me?”

“ah— mhm!” you choke out.

chris isn’t so far behind, but he wants to hold it for his own sake.

he turns your head on its side so you can look at the camera once again, his hand returning to your throat. “see that? this is exactly what the whore needs to look like.” he says into the phone as if he’s talking to someone. as if he’s talking to matt. “no thought in that brain except the feeling of a cock fucking the shit out of her; until she begs you to stop.”

he knew that the last part of that sentence was coming soon because your eyes were starting to close.

your pussy pulses, another orgasm threatening to escape. you try to crawl out of his grip, but he pushes you back onto him more. this brand new spot he’s hitting has you seeing stars.

“don’t run from me now, my dirty little cumslut.” he pants, looking at the dick imprint inside your abdomen. “holy shit. you’re fucking bulging.”

“please, daddy!” you mewl. “s-stop! it’s too much, chris—” he squeezes your ass, catching your mistake. “daddy! to-too much!”

in all honesty, you’re not exactly sure if you really want him to stop.

“i know, angel. just a few more minutes, okay? i know you have one more. what are we at, four now?”

“gonna cum nice and deep in ya, so you’ll be walking around for days with a swollen belly full of it.” his hand makes contact with your ass, your eyes shooting open. it has to be bruised at this point. “this is exactly how sluts like you should be treated. isn’t that right?”

“ngh— y-yes, daddy. cum in m-me, please.”

your body weakens, becoming limp. you’re in an overwhelming amount of pleasure you can’t even moan anymore. instead, you pant like a dog and stick your tongue out because of the overstimulation. your body rocks at the inhuman pace he’s going. your vision starts to fade, like you’re going to pass out.

pure ecstasy, is what it is.

his thrusts become sloppy, slowing down before coming to a halt. he moans, the feeling of his sticky substance filling your womb. “thank you, daddy. thank you, thank you!” you chant, eyes closing.

he pulls out slowly, the squelching noise music to his ears. there’s a string of cum connecting from his tip to your cum-filled cunt.

he takes his phone, doing a shot of the way your abused hole swallows his ropes of white. “this pussy let me breed you real nice.”

spreading your folds to do one final show of his cum spewing out, you jolt from the sensitivity of his finger pushing it back inside you. poor thing, red and swollen. the flutter of it making it easier for his orgasm to spill out. he ends the video, whispering praises into your ear while kissing your face.

you hear a camera click behind you as he snaps a quick photo of the disgusting mess you two made. the smell of sex floods your nostrils.

chris isn’t that much of an asshole to where he’ll actually send the video to matt. he’s cocky, only having the sex tape to himself to jerk off to. it’ll boost his ego tremendously, that’s for sure.

what’s in the back of his mind is if matt pisses him off in the slightest, he’ll have no problem showing him what his girlfriend looks like clamping down on his brother’s dick.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx @sttzee @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @matthewsspecial @idkhowtosleep @sturniolho @suga-daddy-69 @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @rootbeerworshiper @heartlessturniolos @chrisloyalgf @yoinkurnanuhoe @smoothies-are-cool @strtuniolo @1800chokedathoe @sturniolowhore @sturnioloslurps @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani

My thighs are huge cuz they’re full of secrets

there is literally nothing in this world more endearing than a girl who is an absolute loser

til a fucking sink hole opens up in the floor and the bed falls in

PEDRO PASCAL SAG Awards | 2024

scissor me september.

stiles is incredible funny bc yeah he's the brain the strategist the plan maker super smart etc but everytime he checks, just in case, like "hey just letting you know the easiest way to fix this is murder. just a thought" and then everyone is like "stiles NO" and then he gets to the actual plan

Hey, take it from someone creeping towards 40:

Ignore the fun police.

If you like it, order your steak well done. Get your bagel toasted with jam and butter. Put ice in your scotch and ketchup on your hotdog. Get red wine with fish and white with steak. Who cares?

If you want to, listen to pop music. Watch blockbuster popcorn flicks. Read dime store novels. Enjoy them.

Dye your hair or cut it off. Paint your fingernails blue. Wear whatever the fuck you want on your own time (ie, when not at a job or school or whatever where you can get penalized for breaking rules) as long as you aren’t like welding or shoveling snow.

Anyone who tries to tell you you’re wrong? Say “okay” and go back to what you were doing. You’re not hurting them by enjoying yourself or having things the way you like them.

There are no caveats or addendums to this. No “but what about x?” Nah. You’re allowed the things you like. You don’t have to justify your taste or apologize for it if it’s not hurting anyone.

And likewise, let other people live their lives. We’re all dead in the long run, so tend your own garden before you become fertilizer in it.