I think he's good for me, actually.
Title: I think he’s good for me, actually.
Character(s): Minerva McGonagall/Tom Riddle
Prompt: above the thunder
Rating: R
Word Count: 389
Summary: A drunken kiss.
Author's Notes: None.
Can I kiss you? he asks.
They are drunk on butterbeer, sitting in the office given to the Head Boy and Head Girl each year, the plans for the Halloween ball spread out on the desk before them. Tom’s eyes are blurry with drink, and his lips hang loose, sexy and full, and before Minerva can answer they are placed on hers, the taste of butterbeer filling her mouth along with his moving tongue.
You’re too young for me, Minerva argues, which is true, because he’s only fifteen, and from a different house, and was appointed her second-in-command for this assignment only through drawing straws, and this is terribly wrong, but he grins lazily and replies, You’re too young for Dumbledore, but that doesn’t stop him making eyes at you, does it?
Minerva is bright pink because she knows Dumbledore oughtn’t let his hands linger where they do-on the crown of her head, his fingers burrowed in her thick, dark hair; at her waist; even, once, across her bum, in the briefest, most flickering of moments.
He doesn’t deserve you, Tom whispers persuasively. Almost forty and already blind as a bat, and trying to touch and kiss and fuck a girl as beautiful as you…and Minerva is lost to his silver tongue, hoping her skin isn’t scorching hot from blushing at his obscenities, which are far too vulgar for her to even entertain, really-she ought to push him away for daring to think of her like that, but kissing him feels far too good.
It takes a little under a week for the school to find out, and when Dumbledore does, she knows. He returns her papers with little, impatient flicks of the wrist, and won’t meet her eye; she stays after class and says to him, Have I done something wrong, Professor? and stands so that he can see down her robes, using, for the first time, the body was alluded to so crudely by Tom to her own benefit.
Just because you’re Head Girl doesn’t mean you’re above the thunder, Dumbledore says brusquely, and Minerva realizes he thinks she’s just rebelling, testing the limits of his guardianship and the faculty’s good graces, and she smirks, a habit she’s already picked up from Tom, and says, I think he’s good for me, actually, and shimmies away.
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Character(s): Minerva McGonagall/Tom Riddle
Prompt: above the thunder
Rating: R
Word Count: 389
Summary: A drunken kiss.
Author's Notes: None.
Can I kiss you? he asks.
They are drunk on butterbeer, sitting in the office given to the Head Boy and Head Girl each year, the plans for the Halloween ball spread out on the desk before them. Tom’s eyes are blurry with drink, and his lips hang loose, sexy and full, and before Minerva can answer they are placed on hers, the taste of butterbeer filling her mouth along with his moving tongue.
You’re too young for me, Minerva argues, which is true, because he’s only fifteen, and from a different house, and was appointed her second-in-command for this assignment only through drawing straws, and this is terribly wrong, but he grins lazily and replies, You’re too young for Dumbledore, but that doesn’t stop him making eyes at you, does it?
Minerva is bright pink because she knows Dumbledore oughtn’t let his hands linger where they do-on the crown of her head, his fingers burrowed in her thick, dark hair; at her waist; even, once, across her bum, in the briefest, most flickering of moments.
He doesn’t deserve you, Tom whispers persuasively. Almost forty and already blind as a bat, and trying to touch and kiss and fuck a girl as beautiful as you…and Minerva is lost to his silver tongue, hoping her skin isn’t scorching hot from blushing at his obscenities, which are far too vulgar for her to even entertain, really-she ought to push him away for daring to think of her like that, but kissing him feels far too good.
It takes a little under a week for the school to find out, and when Dumbledore does, she knows. He returns her papers with little, impatient flicks of the wrist, and won’t meet her eye; she stays after class and says to him, Have I done something wrong, Professor? and stands so that he can see down her robes, using, for the first time, the body was alluded to so crudely by Tom to her own benefit.
Just because you’re Head Girl doesn’t mean you’re above the thunder, Dumbledore says brusquely, and Minerva realizes he thinks she’s just rebelling, testing the limits of his guardianship and the faculty’s good graces, and she smirks, a habit she’s already picked up from Tom, and says, I think he’s good for me, actually, and shimmies away.
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