#it could start soft and then take a dark turn because let’s face it tom is warning of his own

[puerscientia]

Me: waiting patiently for a Ominis raising his great-nephew Tom Riddle fanficion

[livingemkayde]

in plain sight

joel miller x f!reader (post outbreak) | 2.8k

↳ warnings: lets see what were cooking with today team, this is rated for 18+ only! minors, please do not interact. smut, unprotected pinv, joel is kinda creepy (!) but in a fun way!? public / visible undressing, idk if this counts as it but like voyeurism?? or exhibitionism? idk im not too versed with my -isms. no use of y/n. let me know if i forgot anything.

↳ a /n: heres a little short (ish) one shot because i have COVID and i am SAD!!! joel is literally peeping tom 😭. idk where this came from, and i will not be giving an explanation at this time! thanks for reading and supporting, as always, inbox is sooo open and i love you all.

if you would like to read more of mine: masterlist!

“I saw you,” you start, but his hand comes up to grip your jaw gently, angling your face to meet his. It’s a little harder to talk, “in the window,” you mumble.  “You should close your blinds.”  “You should mind your business.” Your hand slips to rest against his chest.  “You really want me to?” his lips brush your ear, “You came over here to tell me that?” His thumb brushes over your breast through the cotton of your shirt. You moan, quietly. If he wasn’t so close he might’ve not been able to hear. But he does, and it spurs him on further.  “Hm?” he slots your body between his legs.  You shake your head.

He can see you—through the window. 

You weren’t sure at first. He’s new in town, took the place next to yours. But it was a peering, sneaking feeling following you around your room. Especially in that limbo between dinner and midnight. When you get especially restless and the yellow light emanating from your room is highlighted against the blueish black sky. 

You knew it was something, an unvoiced feeling that made you keep your mouth shut. But it didn’t will you to shut your blinds. It wasn’t creepy—it excited you. Maybe some sick part of you changes in front of the window just for him. 

So when you had caught him—two nights ago. It only spurred you on further. 

You got caught in the rain, sprinting upstairs and stripping down to your underwear. You didn’t even think he was home. Maybe that’s why you didn’t close your blinds before shedding your clothes—or maybe it was something else entirely. 

The soaked cotton of your t-shirt plopped down onto the hardwood. You stepped out of your jeans, turning your back to the window subconsciously. And when you reached around your own back to unclasp your bra, you felt it—that peering gaze. 

Delicate fingers undid the clasp and as you pulled the straps off your body, you looked over your shoulder, hitching your chin to the side. 

And you saw him, standing at his window. He had a cup of something in his hand, a tight fist wrapped around it. The soft rays of sunlight pushed a heavy glare over his body but you could see his face—a deer in headlights. A thief, caught red handed. In a blazing offense. 

And you, equally shocked—that it really was him looking all this time—that he spent his afternoon hours peering over into your room instead of living his life in his. That the stoic, grumpy, brooding — Joel Miller — stood studying you undressing like a showgirl. 

You had gasped a little, a quick thing, and he shut his blinds just as quickly and turned away—his shadow faded into the dim light of his bedroom window. 

Truthfully, you look for him everywhere you go. At the market. In the mess hall. At the stables when you’re rounding up hay. You don't see much of him, but you look for him. Take a quick inconspicuous peak over your shoulder. A watchful eye on the entrance to the bar. A peering gaze through windows, just like he does to you. 

You look for him behind your eyelids, in those late hours of the night, when his window goes dark some time after yours floods black.

It almost seems like you’re always looking for him. 

But you never truly see him. Not really. It almost seems like he’s avoiding you. 

But it’s somewhat of a celebratory night—Tommy’s birthday. So you get all too particularly dressed up for the Tispy Bison and rush over, the feeling of Joel’s gaze two nights ago still stuck sweetly to the skin of your back. 

A set of peering brown eyes meet yours when you walk in but they look away quickly. They always look away quickly. And maybe it’s the adrenaline coursing through your veins, or the younger Miller brother waving you over, but you want to change that. If it’s your life’s mission, you want him to look at you, and never, ever, look away. 

“Happy birthday, old man,” you smile at Tommy, he pulls you into a hug, your cheek pressing tightly against the breast of his jacket. All you can feel are eyes on you—the curve of your neck, your hand resting gently on Tommy’s waist. 

“C’mon,” Tommy shakes you slightly, “not that old.”

Then he looks back at Joel in a quiet, joking kind of way. 

“Hey,” you breathe, nodding towards Joel. He clears his throat, straightens his back, wets the skin of his lips and gives you a sharp nod in return. He drops your eyes for his fingers resting on the bartop. 

“Aren’t y’all neighbors?” Tommy questions, almost confused why the air seems so — awkward. 

Joel’s eyes flick under the gaze of his question, the muscle in his jaw tightens. He shoots a quick glance at you and then back to his brother. Your palm starts to sweat where it rests on the bar. 

Neighbors. 

You stay silent to let Joel answer his brother, but he fails, landing a defeated fist gently on the table, and turning away from the two of you, towards the bartender. Tommy’s eyebrows furrow. 

“Yeah,” you jump in, nod, smile, deflect, “We are.”

“Tommy!” A rowdy group of men pull Tommy backwards into the forming circle. Happy Birthdays are exchanged following many claps on the back. They stagger away into the background noise. 

Only Joel and you are left. 

You wave down the bartender.

“I’ll have whatever he’s having,” you say, nodding towards Joel at your side. 

A sweaty man emerges from the dancefloor to order a drink at your side. He smiles at you. You ignore him. 

“You like whiskey?” Joel mumbles from your other side, bringing the glass to his lips, staring directly ahead. You study the curve of his nose. 

“Sometimes,” you slide closer across the bar towards him, away from the other guy.  

Joel’s fingers tap on the wood. Your foot hits your own bar chair to the beat of the song. Your heart beats a little faster when he sneaks a glance at you out of the corner of his eye. It’s almost like he’s waiting with bated breath — anticipating you to confront him about the events of two nights ago.

You don’t, though. Not yet, at least. 

“Y’all close?” he says, nodding back towards Tommy. 

You nurse your drink at your lips. 

“Patrol,” the whiskey burns as it goes down, “you gonna get out there soon?”

“Old man like me?” 

“Not that old,” you bite the rim of the glass, “Could probably use you out there.”

He huffs a breath through his nose, swinging the glass in his hand, “Probably.”

“You should come check it out,” you look at him through your lashes, “I need a new partner.”

Joel huffs a breath, almost downing the rest of his drink. You sneak out of your chair and move closer. 

Tommy’s group breaks into laughter from beside you. A man bumps into your back and your drink spills to the floor, sloshing around in the clear glass while you stumble a little. 

Joel’s hand reaches out to grab your hip. The warm callousness of his thumb notches against that soft skin of your side, uncovered by fabric. He grips you, his thumb, featherweight, pushing against bone, sending a heat between your legs. 

Your hand lands on his bicep.

“Sorry,” you mumble, he doesn’t take his hand away, not until you straighten your shirt and turn your body back to the bar. He grumbles a quiet apology to follow yours.

“Can I get another, please?” you ask the bartender, your cheeks heat. Your whole body does. 

The bartender places a whiskey in front of you and you grab it promptly, swinging your body towards Joel, raising your glass to him. He looks at you silently, then down to your outstretched drink in hand. 

A quiet contemplation. 

“What for?” He asks.

Your palms start to sweat and you’re worried it might fog up the new glass. The yellow lights of the bar turn his skin golden. He’s wearing that green flannel you saw him in at the window, the sleeves of it pushed over his elbows. The wired muscle of his forearms flick under the tense air. 

You’re nervous he might take this the wrong way. But like you thought earlier, you want him to look at you, and never, ever, look away. 

So you smirk at him, choose your words carefully—and decide to bite.

“New neighbors.” 

His gaze flicks to yours. His lips part, then close again, maybe shocked, maybe something else. Then he lets out something strangled, air between teeth and tongue and he huffs like he can't help it. Like he doesn’t know what to do with what you’ve given him—with what you’ve baited him with. 

New neighbors. 

His glass doesn’t meet yours, so you clink them together for him, sipping on the dark liquor with a small smile behind the rim. He clears his throat, and gatherers a staggered breath while downing the rest of his drink. 

“You like your new place, right?” you ask. 

Joel stares at you, almost scared, questioning. 

“‘S fine,” he finally says. 

“Just fine?” 

“‘S nice.” 

“I think so too,” you get closer to him and when he doesn’t back away, “big bedrooms.” 

You can see his Adam's apple bob up and down. 

“Yup,” he whispers. When you get closer, he slips a hand into your jacket, palming at your waist, spreading the broadness of his hand across your ribs. You try not to gasp. He holds you there, almost a warning. A cautionary message. A blaring stop sign.

But you were never much for listening, anyways. 

“Nice view?” you mumble, staring at his lips. 

You can feel his breath punching against your face, the hand on your ribs slides higher. 

You tilt your head, a question — in more ways than one. 

He doesn’t respond, the muscle in his jaw flicks the longer you stand there studying his face. His eyes keep flicking down to your lips—you’re worried he can feel your heartbeat when he inches closer. Some country slow song comes on, maybe the lights dim, or maybe his stare darkens — turns devilish — and it makes it seem like it does. 

“What are you doin’?” he whispers. 

“Nothing.” 

“Doesn’t look like—” he huffs a breath and looks down to your lips, “—nothin’.”

“I saw you,” you start, but his hand comes up to grip your jaw gently, angling your face to meet his. It’s a little harder to talk, “in the window,” you mumble. 

“You should close your blinds.” 

“You should mind your business.” Your hand slips to rest against his chest. 

“You really want me to?” his lips brush your ear, “You came over here to tell me that?”

His thumb brushes over your breast through the cotton of your shirt. You moan, quietly. If he wasn’t so close he might’ve not been able to hear. But he does, and it spurs him on further. 

“Hm?” he slots your body between his legs. 

You shake your head. 

“Yeah,” he whispers in your ear, already pushing you towards the entrance of the bar, “Yeah, ’s what I fuckin’ thought.” 

_

“Fuck—Joel.” 

You press the palms of your hands to glass, your own breath fogging up the pane in front of you. The skin of your cheek bites against the coldness of it, you can barely make out Joel’s reflection from behind you. 

“You like this?” he shoves your pants past your hips, “like me watchin’ ya?” 

And yes, you’re kind of surprised at how much you do. You like this. You like him watching you in those late hours of the night. Before you would retreat behind the safety of your covers and make yourself come to the thought of Joel Miller. 

He slaps your ass, and kneads it where he leaves raised red marks behind in his wake. Your tits push against the window, pebbling your nipples. It almost hurts when they’re pressed up against the glass like that. 

“Joel,” you moan, ignoring his question. 

“Put on a show f’me,” he runs his fingers through your wetness, teasing your aching clit, “every day. Fuckin’ tease.”

Your open mouth kisses the window, breathing heavy fog onto it. You push back against him but he keeps you pressed against the window with a strong hand on your back. 

You don’t know how you found yourself in Joel Miller’s bedroom, let alone his house. Somehow between now and the bar, rough words, and teasing touches managed to get you slotted between him and his bedroom window. Forced to look out towards your room—where you baited him for weeks. 

“Christ,” he mumbles, feeling your wetness, collecting it and letting his fingers disappear between your legs. Yours grasp at nothing, squeaking against the pane there, looking for something, anything to grab onto. He’s got you up against the window like a painting on a canvas, the sill framing your bodies for everyone to see. 

But he doesn’t care—that anyone could see—and that excites you more. 

You look back at him, he’s got a pained look on his face, staring down at your body bent for him. You bite your lip and hide your face between hair and glass when you hear the clink of his belt. 

“Fuck,” he mumbles, pulling himself out, groaning at the sensation, spreading you all over himself. You wait with bated breath. 

A big and rough hand hangs on the back of your neck. You can feel him notch himself against your entrance. You move your hips back to meet him, but he stops you. You’re frozen under his touch, a model, waiting to be molded however he desires. 

“You like this, angel?” he whispers. 

This—being pushed against the window, where anyone can see, like how he saw you, all those nights, all those times before. 

Yes, hell yes, you do. 

“Yeah,” you whimper, he presses your head into the window further, you squirm in anticipation. His rough hand tangles between hair. The tip of his cock almost pushes into your cunt. 

“You do it for me?” 

It—undressing in front of the window, pacing around in your underwear, framed by the golden light escaping from the glass, never shutting your blinds, just for him. 

You’d be kidding yourself if you said no. 

“Yes,” you whisper in a hoarse voice—then suddenly, his fingers drop from your head. 

Joel slides in, slowly. Pushing past your tightening walls, your hand pounds a heavy fist into the windowpane and the glass shakes under the pressure. When his hips are flush with yours, he waits. 

“Pretty,” he mumbles into your hair and you freeze. 

You don’t say anything, still panting against the window, “Always—” he pulls out, and thrusts back in, setting an agonizingly slow pace, “—pretty.”  

You tense around him, whimpering. Your forehead ducks down and lands against the glass with a thud. 

“Wanted you to—ngh—” you moan. His hand braces against the window and you hold on to it, grabbing at it aimlessly. He slides his fingers between yours. “—wanted you to see me,” you admit.  

“I know,” he drawls, “I know, baby.” 

His pace is slow at first, gentle. But it speeds up into something deafening. Your body pushes up against the glass with each thrust of his hips. He grabs at your hair, holds your hand, and kisses your neck through it all. 

Joel wraps his arms around your waist when he feels you going numb. 

“C’mon,” he whispers, “doin’ good. So—fuck—so good.” 

The angle is deeper, sharper—he’s bigger than what you’re used to. You bite your lip in favor of screaming. 

He hits something inside you and his breath snags somewhere deep in his throat, pushing grunts out into the crown of your hair. 

It’s obscene. The gesture. All of it. The throb between your legs comes to a splitting pitch, your breath sharp and cutting just like his. Your head spins, panting through fuzzy vision. His words go straight to your core. The thought that if someone were to walk by and happen to look up, they’d see you—how he’s got you pressed up against glass like an exhibit. 

“Joel—” you yelp, he cuts you off, playing with your clit, pushing you over that thin edge. Your muscles choke his cock, turning to putty in his hands as you whine his name, crying out so the glass echoes it back to you. 

He bites down onto the bare skin where your neck meets your shoulder. Leaving behind marks that you’ll see for days to come. Not that you mind. You reach back, crumple up cotton into your fists and feel his wired muscles flex under your palm. 

“Fuck, angel,” he groans, you spin around to kiss him, and swallow his moans with your own. Teeth and tongue and whimpers to go with the rest of them. 

His hips stutter into yours, you push against him, bordering on the edge of too much but when his breath stalls from above you and his hand holding yours goes tight, you finally relax. He spills into you, you feel his cock pulse from somewhere deep inside you. 

His head rests against the back of your neck for what seems like forever, you can feel his hot mouth trail kisses down your back until you both laugh and he finally slips out of you and lets you turn around. 

He kisses you. Really kisses you. And when he pulls back, he sighs. Pushing out air between his parted lips, like he doesn’t really know what to do now. But he looks at you. And keeps looking at you, even when you think he might break your gaze. 

Looking at you, and never, ever, looking away. 

_

[acewritesfics]

The Neighbour's Cat | Tommy Shelby

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: from @rainydayteacups

Fic Type: Imagine

Warnings: Swearing. Fluff overload. Soft Tommy. I guess you could say pre-war Tommy but I didn’t really mention it.

Word Count: 1,564

TOMMY SHELBY MASTERLIST || TAG LIST SIGN-UP

⚠️ THIS IS A REPOST FROM MY MAIN BLOG @/DLMLUFICS. UNFORTUNATELY, I HAVE TO DO IT THIS WAY. MORE INFO IN MY PINNED POST.

“Did you hear that?” Ada asks after a loud thud came from out in the backyard.   

“It might be the neighbour's cat,” Y/N replies. The grey tabby is often in her small backyard, making himself comfortable in one of her flowerpots as he slept. She no longer had flowers growing in the one he took a liking too. “He often comes into the yard.”  

She goes to pour herself another glass of the wine that Polly had swiped from the Garrison when she sees movement outside the window. Recognising the familiar hair cut she stands up from the table. "I'll be right back. I need to make sure the cat hasn't gotten into anything it shouldn't have."  

"But it's dark outside, what could it possibly get into?" Ada whines, lifting her glass to her lips.  

"You'd be surprised," Y/N mumbles and makes her way to the back door and slips outside, looking into the darkness of the night for a person sneaking around the back of her home. "Tommy?" she whispers loudly unsure if it was him, she'd seen.   

As Tommy moves in front of her, a hand clasped gently over her mouth as he holds a finger to his lips, telling her to be quiet.   

"Come with me," he speaks barely above a whisper, the hand covering her mouth moving to take her hand in his and leads her away from the back yard and into the street.  

“Tommy, I can’t just leave,” she protests but makes no real effort to break away from him and go back inside. “Where are the others?”  

“Back at the Garrison,” he informs her. “And who says we can’t sneak off to spend the night before our wedding together?” 

“It’s tradition,” she sighs knowing the women currently in her kitchen will have her head once they realize she’s disappeared.  

“Fuck tradition,” he scoffs as he slows his walk now that their getting further from the house. “Since when have we been ones to follow tradition, eh?” 

“I guess you have a point,” she smiles. 

“We’ll start our own tradition,” he announces, his voice echoing through the empty street as he walks ahead of her lighting his cigarette and turning to face her while walking backwards. “Our future generations will spend the eve of their wedding together instead of apart because we did it first.” 

Not realizing he’s about to step off the curb, he stumbles backwards causing Y/N to gasp as scrambles forward to try stop him from falling. He steadies himself before he can topple backwards. “I’m fine, love.” 

She shakes her head with a chuckle as his hands reach for her hips and pulls her closer. “So, what do you say?” 

“I say, I’m the luckiest woman in all of England, maybe even the whole world,” she smiles. “Let’s make our own traditions.” 

He smiles, kissing her, before taking her hand again and leading her further from her home. 

Arriving at Charlie’s Yard, Tommy helps her through the gate and towards the stables. Y/N looks around apprehensively, unsure if they should be there. It's been a long time since they snuck into the yard of the man who's like an uncle to the Shelby siblings. Last time they did it, they'd been caught. Charlie had almost fired Tommy from his job as punishment, but Tommy promised never to do it again. Until now.  

"Tom, are we allowed to be here?" she questions him, even though she has a feeling she already knows the answer as they walk into the makeshift stable.  

"I cleared it with Charlie," he informs her, surprising her a little. 

"But Charlie's at the Garrison with the rest of the blokes," she says, realization hitting her. "He was in on this plan of yours." 

"He tried to talk me out of it," he tells her.  

"But of course, Tommy Shelby gets his way," she teases. 

"I convinced you to marry me, didn't I?" he asks, a smug smile on his pouted lips.  

"It didn't take much convincing," she smiles.  

"We first met here," he reminds her. "You were tending to one of the horses Curly was working with." 

"Moonlight," she smiles remembering the day well.  

She came to Birmingham two years ago to visit her cousin, Curly, and look for work, having been fired from her last job for no good reason. Curly talked to Charlie about hiring her, claiming he needed a hand with the horses. Charlie hired her after Curly gave him his word about Y/N being a hard worker and almost as good with horses as he was.  

She was three days into her job when she crossed paths with Tommy. She was grooming Moonlight, a black stallion with a diamond shaped patch of white on his forehead. Moonlight just so happened to be one of the horses Tommy saved from a man who was about to put the beautiful boy down, because he was sick, and he couldn't afford to get him well again. Curly had nursed him back to health within a few weeks. Y/N had bonded with him so much that Tommy couldn't bring himself to find him a new home, instead keeping him as a gift for the woman he had fallen so quickly in love with. 

Those few weeks curly was nursing Moonlight back to health, Tommy spent pursuing Y/N, unable to get her from his mind. It took a month before she gave in to his advances and they've been together ever since. And Moonlight is now in a stable on a farm a friend owns, living his life to the fullest. Y/N is out there almost daily attending to him and taking him for rides. Tommy can't wait for the day when he can move Moonlight into their own stables, on property they owned, with as many horses as his wife wants. 

"The first time I saw you, I knew I had to have you in my life," he tells her. "You looked so beautiful, covered in dirt and grime, humming that tune as you ran a brush through Moonlight's mane. He seemed so calm and at peace that I felt it within myself."  

"Oh, Tommy," she coos softly, feeling her heart erupt with all the love she has for him. The fluttering feeling like a kaleidoscope of butterflies was inside her chest. She steps towards him, placing her hand on his face as she looks at him lovingly, her thumb stroking his well-defined cheek.  

"I've felt it ever since that moment," he says, his voice softer. "You bring peace to my chaotic life. It's one of the many reasons why I love you." 

"I love you," is all she's able to say before she pulls him in for passionate kiss, expressing all the love she has for the man who turned her life upside down in the best kind of way.  

Y/N startles awake the next morning when a loud noise comes from outside. Placing her hand on Tommy's bare shoulder, she gently shakes him awake, hearing the rattling of gates being opened.  

"Tommy, we need to leave," she tells him barely above a whisper. 

Groaning, his eyes flutter open and connect with Y/N's eyes. He smiles and reaches behind her head to pull her in for a morning kiss. His other hand travels up her thigh, plays with the hem of his shirt she's wearing before slipping under it to grab her hip to pull her closer.  

"Enough of that you two," The sound of Charlie's voice causes them to part. "You best get out of here before they send a search party. Can't be late to your own wedding." 

He walks away before they could say anything. Standing up, Y/N quickly dresses into her clothes from the previous day as Tommy takes back his shirt and coat.  

"I'll walk you home," he tells her as they leave the stable. They thank Charlie who waves them off with a shake of his head and tells them he'll see them at the ceremony. Hurrying home, Y/N holds onto Tommy's hand tightly, bracing herself for the lecture she's about to encounter.  

Standing on her front doorstep, she turns to face Tommy with a small smile on her lips. "I'm about to get my head bitten off by your aunt and our sisters but last night is worth every second of it."  

"I agree, my love," he smiles also. "I liked that tradition far better." 

"This coming from the man that said a fuck you to traditions," she teases.  

"To traditions that aren't ours," he corrects her.  

"You better get going before Polly sees you," she chuckles and pulls him in for one more kiss before they become man and wife. "I love you." 

"I love you too," he says pulling away from her and stepping back on to the footpath. "Don't be late," he tells her. 

"I'll be the one in white just in case you can't find me," she laughs. 

"I'll always be able to find you," he smiles and turns around, starting his walk to Arthur's house.  

As soon as she opens the door and heads inside, she gulps seeing Polly standing there with her hands on her hips and an angry look on her face. "And where the hell have you been?" 

"The neighbor's cat needed to see me," she replies slipping past her to go to the bathroom. 

TAGGED: @chapter-in-my-old-diary - @hanawrites404 - @goblinjnr - @halsteadbrasil - @forgottenpeakywriter - @star-ggirl - @iceman-kazansky - @alexxavicry - @galactict3a - @crispynutella - @il0vebeingdelulu - @nicole-19s-world - @yeppaweshallsee

Bold means your @ didn't come up when I tried to tag you. Sometimes your blog will be linked after posted but I don't think you get the notification. You'll have to let me know and I'll change it from bold to normal. Tags have been weird lately. Here's a post I found that could help: WHY OTHERS CAN'T TAG YOUR BLOG

[toxophilitis]

Horny Peeping Sister cont

Chapter 4

In the next few afternoons, Becky and Tom spent plenty of time in bed together. They experimented, learning different ways to please themselves and each other. Sometimes they fucked hard, and sometimes they fucked tenderly. But always they fucked with one ear open, ever alert for their mother.

As they grew more comfortable with their new-found sexuality, Becky relaxed enough to confide in her brother her excitement when it came to watching other people fuck. Tom was thrilled—and relieved—that Becky did not hold his voyeuristic tendencies against him. So, each pleased that the other was also erotic-minded, they decided to go out together one night and see what sexy scenes they could discover in their neighborhood.

They devised a plan where Tom would tell their mother that he had to go over to a friend’s house one evening to work on a school project. That same evening, Becky agreed to leave her piano lessons a bit early, telling her teacher she had to get home to help her mother. The plan went off without a hitch and the two met just as it was getting dark in an alley not far from their house.

“We’ll try the house on Guava first,” Tom suggested, leading his sister down the back passageway. “They like to have a quick evening fuck once in a while.”

“You mean you’ve watched them before?” Becky asked, trying to walk quietly.

“Sure! Did you think that I just started, like you?”

“Well, no,” Becky replied. “But I didn’t know you knew so much about what other people do.”

“I don’t really know much at all,” Tom laughed. “I just know who likes to fuck and when—and who doesn’t close their curtains. Now come on!”

They hurried down one block, and up the next. Ahead of her, Becky could see one brightly lit window and she felt her stomach tighten when she realized it was their goal. Tom’s hunch had been right. There were people in that room!

“What’d I tell ya?” Tom giggled. “Those horny sons of bitches can’t keep their hands off each other!”

Brother and sister moved around the trashcans across the alley from the back bedroom window, covering themselves as best they could. Then they crouched down and Becky’s eyes went wide when she got her first good look at two people actually fucking.

“I can’t believe it,” she sighed. “Look at them go! How can she take it?”

“I don’t know,” Tom mumbled. “But I know I can’t. Feel this!”

He took her hand and guided it to the front of his pants. Without taking her eyes off the hot sight in front of her, Becky felt his hard-on pounding against the fly of his jeans. She gave it an absent little squeeze and then let it go. Watching other people fucking was such a tremendous new experience, it took all of her concentration.

Inside the sparsely furnished bedroom, an older man and a very young girl were both naked on the bed. The girl, her face turned slightly away from Becky and Tom, was on her hands and knees and the man was taking her from behind with long, powerful strokes. The short dark curls on the girl’s head bounced when he rammed his cock into her, but she seemed to enjoy it. She held her body taut and absorbed his fucking power by slamming her ass back at him each time he filled her with his cock-meat.

As if from a distance, Becky heard her brother slide his zipper down.

Then she sensed as much as heard him start to stroke his rigid prick.

Becky was getting plenty hot herself. The idea of spying on other people while they fucked had excited her but not nearly as much as actually doing it did. She could feel her cunt getting all soft and squishy and she shifted around, rubbing herself against the crotch seam of her jeans.

“Turns you on, huh?” Tom whispered, his hands moving on his cock while he grinned at his obviously excited sister.

“Yeah,” Becky croaked. “Even more than I thought it would.”

Tom laughed, a low and dirty sound. “You gettin’ wet?” he asked.

Becky didn’t have to answer because her brother reached over and cupped the crotch of her jeans. Becky knew her cunt was very juicy and from the way her brother sighed she knew too that her cunt-cream had soaked the crotch of her pants.

“Runnin’ like a river,” Tom sighed, massaging her wet crotch and feeling it become even wetter.

In her crouched position, Becky opened up her thighs and balanced herself on just her tiptoes. With one hand she held onto a nearby trashcan to keep from falling. She pushed her cunt back against her brother’s groping hand and began to pant, his fingers thrilling her even through the covering of denim.

“Wait a minute,” she finally sighed, pulling away from Tom.

His hand again free, Tom went back to jacking on his cock while Becky quickly popped the snap of her jeans and stood up just long enough to pull them and her panties down around her ankles. Then she crouched back down beside him, her naked cunt giving off an odor in the night air.

“Yeahhh,” Tom sighed, guiding her one hand to his prick and then going back to work on her pussy, “this is gonna work out just fine.”

Becky whimpered her agreement as her fingers closed around the swollen shaft of his prick and his hand pressed against her steaming cunt. She felt a gob of her pussy-juice ooze out and smear his palm.

Tom’s cock was cool against her fingers, but after just a few quick strokes, it grew hotter and straighter than ever. She glanced down at it briefly and noticed the sexy way that it stuck out from the open crotch of his pants. Then her eyes flicked back to the horny couple in the bedroom.

The young girl, Becky was sure that she was even younger than she was herself, was down on her elbows with the man still giving it to her from behind. Her back was arched sharply and her naked ass quivered each time she took all of his prick-meat. Sometimes her face was pressed down against her arms and sometimes she tossed it back, rolling it around on her shoulders when she particularly liked the way the older man fucked her.

The man wore an expression of dominance and ecstasy. He gripped the girl around the waist, his fingers nearly reaching all the way around her. As he fucked into her with all his strength, he also pulled her toward him, making sure she got all the cock-meat there was to be had.  From time to time he held her ass pressed against the base of his prick and rolled his hips from side to side, wiggling his prick around in the depths of the girl’s speared cunt-channel.

“Incredible,” Becky sighed, her fingers automatically running up and down the length of her brother’s cock. “In-fuckin’-credible.”

Tom gave another dirty laugh and then jabbed his sister’s cunt with two fingers. Her pussy gripped his fingers very tightly. When he pulled them out, they were slick with her juices, and he smeared those juices across the exposed point of her thrusting clit.

Becky gasped and gave his prick a squeeze of appreciation. She was still very turned on by watching other people fucking, but as she got more used to the idea, found it easier to do two things at once, namely watching them and jerking her brother off.

She rubbed the pearl of pre-cum that she knew without even looking was at the tip of his cock around his straining prick-tip and listened with satisfaction as he sighed in pleasure. Then she gripped his cock tightly and worked the loose outer skin back and up over the solid inner core, feeling her crouching brother wriggling with mounting fuck-lust.

“That feels great,” he panted. “Do you like what I’m doing to your pussy?”

“Y-yess,” Becky sighed, thrusting her pelvis out and opening her cunt up. “Fuck me!”

Becky spoke through gritted teeth, and Tom did as she asked. He pushed his fucking fingers deep inside of her and then opened them up like a pair of scissors, forcing them against the walls of her pussy.

“Oooh,” she gasped, feeling as if he was stretching the shape of her cunt-hole.

In retaliation she took her hand away from his cock long enough to coat it with a pearly layer of spit. Then, her eyes still on the fucking couple, she smeared the tip of his prick with her wetness and proceeded to smooth the lubricant all down the sides of his prick.

“Ahhh,” Tom moaned, “yeahhh.”

Becky’s hand moved faster and smoother than ever now with the layer of spit between it and the loose skin of Tom’s hard-on. She relaxed her wrist and beat his meat just as he had taught her during their few but furious days of fucking.

As she massaged his cock, she made sure that her fingertips stayed against the sensitive vein that ran the length of his prick-shaft.  Becky didn’t understand why but her brother was extra-sensitive on that spot and so she massaged it, wanting to please him as much as possible.

Above her own panting she could hear her brother’s loud breathing. They were turning each other on with their hands and fingers, making their young fuck-parts hum with arousal. Becky had never dreamed that anything could feel so good as fingering her brother while he fingered her and they both spied on another couple fucking.

Inside the house the young girl that now making push-up motions with her arms. Sometimes her upper body was flat against the rumpled bed, her small tits squished beneath her. Other times she held herself up, her back straight, her tits pointing downward, two pink cones of flesh.  But whatever she did seemed to excite the man more, and he fucked her with quicker strokes than ever, jarring her with his fucking prick.

Becky found herself moving with the same rhythm as the girl who was getting fucked. As the girl took the man’s cock, Becky rocked forward and back, helping her brother fuck her with his pointed fingers. The night air was cool against the soft skin of Becky’s bare legs, but up toward her crotch she was as hot as a pistol.

With one hand tight around her brother’s prick and the other bracing her up against the trashcan, Becky could move only a little. But even that small bit of motion was enough in this sexy setting. She watched the man move his hands from the girl’s waist to the soft cheeks of her ass. His fingers dug into her pliant flesh and the girl opened her mouth, obviously crying out in pleasure and pain. She wiggled her ass in the man’s grip and Becky felt her own pussy lurch. It was the most erotic thing she had ever witnessed, even better than the sexy photos that she and Vicky had shared.

Although he was an experienced voyeur and had watched this particular couple fucking before, tonight seemed special to Tom, too. His dark head bobbed as he jammed his fingers into his sister’s pussy and moved with her hand, helping it jack him off. Her cunt-juice felt oily as it filled his hand and ran down to his wrist. How he wished he could fuck Becky right now just like the man in the house was fucking the young girl. Who was she? Tom wondered. Was she his daughter, or maybe his daughter’s friend, or maybe a babysitter? Tom’s horny mind went wild with the possibilities, and he fucked Becky’s cunt with his hand all that much better.

Becky rocked from side to side, making Tom’s fingers move more inside of her. Sometimes he gouged at the soft inner tissues of her pussy with his fingernails and it hurt her a little bit. But her soothing juices and his usually satisfying finger-fucking were quick to ease her pain and she thrust out to meet him, her cunt sucking around his jamming digits.

“Think she’s his kid?” Tom panted, his mouth very near to his sister’s ear. The question caught Becky off guard, and she only moaned in response.

“She can’t be his wife, do you think? She doesn’t look that old, and I can’t see any ring,” Tom continued, his hips thrusting up through the circle of Becky’s fingers as he spoke.

Becky moaned.

“Do you know her?” he asked, quickly looking over at Becky’s flushed face.

Becky absently shook her head.

Tom grinned when he saw how hot she was. Her whole face was distorted with passion and her tongue hung out the corner of her mouth. It was no wonder she couldn’t answer him, the boy realized.

“You’re almost there, huh?” he asked, his laughing eyes now trained on Becky.

“Uh-huh,” she gasped, her eyes rolling back in her head as he rubbed his greasy fingers across her clit.

“Then let’s go!”

Becky almost lost her delicate balance as her brother tore into her cunt with a new kind of frenzy. His fingers, now three of them, filled the mouth of her cunt completely and he let them fly in and out of the fluttering opening. Then, to further her pleasant torture, he began to revolve his thumb over her clit while he fucked her with his other fingers.

“Oh Tom!” she gasped as her fingers, too, increased their speed up and down the shaft of his prick.

For many minutes the two teenagers pounded each other like never before. Becky bit her bottom lip with the power of her efforts and Tom panted like a stallion, his balls rolling around until they slipped from the confines of his jeans and dangled in the night air. As Becky pumped his prick, his balls began to dance, jerked and jarred by her violent fucking motions.

Their eyes grew wider and wider as it became apparent that the man in the house was about to come. His fucking strokes became frantic and then he jammed his cock into the girl completely and bent forward, over her back, gripping her hanging tits and hugging her to him. Becky and Tom could see the way his ass twitched and they each imagined the thick stream of jism that he was depositing far up inside the young girl.

Tom’s prick vibrated in his sister’s hand as he watched the little brunette grind her parted ass-cheeks against the base of the man’s creaming cock. Her cheek was against the bed and her back sloped upward to meet the man’s hairy belly. Her ass twitched back and forth just a little bit, wringing the last of his come from his beefy balls.

Becky slammed her hand from the base of his prick-head to the root of his cock, holding his shaft tightly in her sweaty hand. Tom jerked his hips too, and together they brought him off just as the man in the house began to stir, picking himself up off the back of the kneeling girl.

“Yeah, Beckkky!” he gasped, keeping his voice low. “Uhhh!”

Becky’s hand jacked furiously on his spewing prick and his cream flew off in every direction. Becky took a few drops of it against her jacking hand and a few more on her bare legs and the side of one cheek.  She stuck her tongue out and tried to lick away the bits of his cream that dotted her face.

As he came, Tom let his fingers slack off in their fucking of her. But his come was a quick one and before the man had even pulled his cream-soaked cock from the cunt of the young girl, Tom’s moment had passed and he again focused his efforts on bringing off his sister.

Becky had been so close for so long that it didn’t take much for Tom to fuck her climax right out of her. Of course, he had some help as Becky watched the large older man coax the girl down onto her back and then fall between her splayed thighs to lick up his own cream.

“Oh fuck!” Becky gasped, the combination too much for her. “Here I come!”

“Do it baby, yeah!”

As much as he wanted to see the old man eating the young girl, Tom wanted to watch his sister come even more. Now, in the subdued light, he saw her face contort and her eyes roll as he felt her pussy dance around his embedded fingers. He kept his hand moving and it slid around in her juicy, climaxing cunt, instantly making the boy’s cock hard as a rock again.

Becky sighed and moaned, her knees waving apart and together around her brother’s pumping hand. The knuckles of the hand that gripped the trashcan went white with the effort as Becky swooned with pleasure and satisfaction. Her cunt pulsed with her climax, one moment feeling very taut and the next very loose and open. Tom kept fucking her until the last shudder passed through her body. Then he gavce her a moment to recouperate before he patted her moist, naked ass and shocked her back to reality.

“Come on,” he said, struggling to get his new hard-on into his pants.

“We better get home before Mom has a cow.”

He took Becky’s hand and helped her unsteadily to her feet. Like a zombie she pulled up her pants and ran her fingers through her hair.  Then, with Tom waiting to follow in a few minutes, she took one last look at the hot pussy-eating that was going on in the house and hurried off toward her home.

[h-c-u]

The kids are alright

Summary: You're filming some videos around the house for your unborn daughter, while your husband struggles with something.

Pairing: Tom "Iceman" Kazansky x fem!reader

W/C: 1.4k

Rating: PG, age gap mentioned, but not specifically stated.

TWs: none

A/N: I love soft Ice the normal amount, your honor. Also, I imagine he's a bit older in the story than he's in the gif, but I just loved it so much...

Masterlist | List of tags | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

- And that would be your room, we just finished painting it... Well, mostly your daddy did because he was scared that something in the paint might be harmful to you, even though we triple-checked and chose the paint that was safe for pregnant women. So he waited till I went to sleep and spent the whole night painting it because he knew that I wouldn't let him do that alone... - you moved the camera, so it would record the light pastel-pink walls and the realistic clouds on the ceiling.

- But I was the one who did the clouds on the ceiling when he was at work, but don't tell him... - you lowered your voice to barely a whisper. - ...because I told him that auntie Flo did all the work, so hush about that. - you couldn't help but smile a bit. - I just really hope you're not going to hate the pink. I mean if you will, we'll, of course, repaint it, but at least for a while, you won't be able to tell us that you hate it. - at first, you really wanted to keep the room as gender-neutral as possible, but as soon as Ice found out you're having a girl, he was just so happy and wanted to do everything he possibly could to welcome his little princess into the world and make everything perfect for your daughter.

You had to fight tooth and nail not to have white furniture in the nursery though, because it would be, well... much too much in your opinion, so you settled on dark wood, which matched nicely with the pink walls and the deep green accessories.

- He just can't wait to meet you... You like that idea too, huh...? - you smiled when you felt her kick. - Ok, let's meet daddy... - you closed the door to the nursery and started walking downstairs step by step, taking your time, so you wouldn't lose your footing and fall. - Oh, you're gonna have so much fun sliding on those stairs on a sled, when you're a toddler, just promise me that you'll make sure to put couch cushions in your landing zone. - you laughed when you finally reached the bottom and pointed the camera toward the living room, where your husband was currently going over some most like very top-secret papers, that you definitely didn't see.

- See, that's your daddy. All serious and focused on work because he's very important and one day you'll understand that. But even though he has to think about keeping a lot of people safe all the time, he still has time for us... Watch his face... - you whispered as if you already had a secret comradely with your daughter. - Ice, baby... - it was all it took for him to put everything away, and look at you. His face instantly relaxed as soon as he laid his eyes on you, and a giant smile crawled onto his lips. - See...? - you've said to the camera. - He loves us so much and I can't wait for you to meet him. - you waddled towards the couch like a happy penguin, trying to keep the camera on Tom's face.

- What are you doing, dove? - he asked, even though it was pretty obvious. He gently pulled you onto the couch, and you turned the camera around, so now the two of you were in the shot.

- So remember when Florence mentioned the idea of filming the stuff for the baby? I'm doing exactly that... So we'll remember everything and one day she'll be able to see how cool her parents are. - you both laughed and he pulled you into a closer hug, almost forcing you onto his lap. - Do you want to tell her anything? - you asked, trying your best to keep the heavy camera steady, but your hands started to shake a bit, so Ice took it from your hands and you placed a small kiss on his cheek.

- Please be good to your mama... Don't kick her too much and all that. - you couldn't help but laugh when he put his hand on your stomach just as your daughter decided to ignore his request.

- She's gonna be a rebel. - you said through laughter. - Already not listening to her dad, and yet I bet that one look from her, and Mr. Ice-cold-no-mistakes will melt. - this time, he was the one who laughed.

- Yeah, that's true... So please don't abuse that. And just know that we love you very, very much... - he ended the recording and put the camera on the coffee table. Even though he was smiling, you knew that something was bothering him.

- What's wrong...? - you asked, and he sighed heavily, hiding his face in the nook of your neck, seeking every bit of comfort he could.

- I can't tell you... I wish I could, but I really can't, because I promised... - he mumbled against your skin, and you reached back with your right hand and started playing with his hair... It wasn't the most comfortable position, but you knew he needed it.

- Hmmm... So get this... I was thinking about writing a novel, where the main character is in the military and is struggling with a moral dilemma about his job, that could affect many, many lives... - you started and he laughed straight into your neck, which tickled, but you still didn't move away.

- It's not that kind of dilemma, dove... It's more of a request from a friend and I'm completely torn about it... - you moved away from him a little bit, but not for long because as soon as you found a comfortable position, you gently maneuvered him to lay down on your lap and you started playing with his hair. He already lived through a lot, and yet he still cared.

- Hmmm... So Maverick asked you to pull Bradley's papers... - you stated and he looked at you with surprise. - I might be young, but I'm not stupid. And I have great hearing. - you smiled and continued to gently run your fingers through his hair. It was easy for you to overhear or notice things because people either weren't threatened by you or ignored you, assuming you weren't important. Mav, of course, knew who you were since the day Ice met you, because he was there, convincing him to shoot his shot, but still... You were able to notice things he wanted to hide from the rest of the world. And even though you met Bradley only in passing, he was easier to read than a children's book; all emotions painted on his face with a contrast marker. - And now that we've established that I know, can you tell me why he wants to pull his papers? - you asked and he closed his eyes, considering his options, finally deciding on sharing this burden with you.

- He promised Carole before she died, that he wouldn't let him fly... - he sighed heavily, slowly melting into your touch.

- Now, that's just stupid. - you weren't exactly surprised. - Bradley is a grown-ass man, and he'll definitely find a way to do what he wants. Especially considering that it's the only way he knows how to connect with his dad... - Ice opened his eyes again and looked at you, waiting for you to continue, so you did. - I understand that Mav wants to keep his promise and keep him safe, but he would be much more successful in keeping him safe if he actually taught the kid how to fly in a safe environment, letting him find that connection outside the navy... - Bradley was only a couple of years younger than you, but you still felt like there was at least a generation separating you. - And the kid's gonna find out sooner or later that Pete asked you to pull his papers. Do you really think Mav can handle losing another Bradshaw? - Tom clenched his jaw, but as soon as you ran your finger over it, he relaxed. - How about you invite them both for dinner... I'm gonna cook something nice, and we're gonna talk it through... And just so we're clear, I will spill all the beans and blame it on the pregnancy, since apparently none of you knows how to communicate like adults. - he finally laughed and relaxed in your lap. He could easily find the best solution to a military conflict, but navigating a complicated issue when his friend was involved...? He forgot all about his training.

- I love you. - he smiled and closed his eyes again.

- I know. - normally you would lean down and press a soft kiss to his forehead, but your belly made that impossible. Fortunately, your daughter helped you and kicked him right in the cheek. 

[cardinalone-ao3]

November 7 - Work

@hinnymicrofic

A/N: so this ended up being longer than a microfic (~1200 words). Whoops. I’m not sorry.

She was determined. Years of being overlooked - stealing rides on her brothers’ brooms in the quiet night. Learning how to live and love flying again after Tom made her believe she would never amount to anything.

But flying saved her. Healed her. Became a part of her and wove itself into the piece of her soul that Tom tried to take.

And now it was her time. She would prove to everyone that she is a quidditch player, not just a substitute. Someone who deserves it. Someone who earns it.

Suppressing a groan from the soreness building in her legs, she climbed through the portrait hole. It was dark, and had been dark for some time now. So it was a surprise that the Common Room wasn't totally empty.

She smirked as she observed him alone in the room, sitting on the sofa facing the fireplace. His head was draped over the back of the sofa, his glasses askew on the bridge of his nose, soft snores emitting from his mouth.

Her eyes snagged on his mouth and she resisted the old urge to think about what it would be like to snog him. It was a silly crush, from a long time ago. She was different now. They were friends after all. Weren't they?

She plopped down next to him on the sofa, and he let out a startled "oof", pulling his wand and immediately scanning the room.

She opted for humor to hide the sadness of the truth that he probably did that for good reason. "You know, you would be a lot more convincing if you hadn't just been snoring louder than a hippogriff."

He immediately turned to her and dropped his wand - a lopsided smirk playing on his lips. "Because you're the one to talk, I'm fairly sure loud snoring is a Weasley trait at this point. What with your mid-summer pond naps."

"I do not snore!"

"Oh, so it was Ron who suddenly grew long bright red hair and started wearing bikinis by the pond?"

She refused to blush, not because of the fact that she may have been snoring this summer, but more his subtle admission that he had been watching her then, and that maybe she possibly considered that potential outcome when she chose napping locations.

"Could have been," she said, trying to sound nonchalant and playful as she settled back against the couch.

"What were you doing out here?"

Something passed across his face, and he looked at the fire, trying to sound normal. He wasn't fooling her. "I had stuff with Dumbledore earlier. I just couldn't quite go to sleep yet."

"Until you did, you mean."

He smirked at her. "Yeah, right." He eyed her for a minute, him just now registering her broom and clothes. "What were you doing anyway?"

"Flying - getting practice in for tryouts," she said, trying to appear as confident as possible. "I'm determined to be the best chaser Gryffindor has ever seen." She played it off bravely, but the doubt simmered under the surface.

He hummed and appeared thoughtful for a minute. "You know, I think you could be."

"Be serious," she said, playfully shoving his arm with her forearm. He let out a chuckle that warmed her instantly.

"I am," and his brows pinched more thoughtfully. "I mean look, Katie is good, real good. But, you have better vision than she does, and you are probably faster. I know that from experience this summer. You can fly circles around people. I don't see why you could not be the best. And it's not like you aren't working at it. We played quidditch all summer."

She smiled at the memories, warm summer days on end with flying, and Ron complaining.

A thought bubbled to the surface in her mind. And Harry. She looked for anything to say to get her mind off of that particular thought. They were friends now. Just friends...which was absolutely and totally fine with her.

"It's what I want to do for work you know...after Hogwarts and everything." She set her gaze on the dancing embers of the fire. She wasn't sure what made her say it. Divulge her deepest, most personal secret. To him. Now.

She felt his eyes on her again and fought the urge to blush. She didn't do that anymore. Worked too hard not to.

"Yeah...I can see that."

Her eyes snapped immediately to his, and she almost lost herself in them. His face was thoughtful, like she was some puzzle he couldn't quite work out.

"You mean that?"

His brow furrowed, not understanding her uncertainty. As if she hadn't spent every waking day questioning whether she had enough, would ever have enough.

"What do you mean? Of course, I do."

It wasn't possible to hide the smile that erupted across her face, or the warmth that filled her. Like he hadn't just been the first person who told her she could do it. Like it was obvious.

Not noticing this, Harry pressed on. "I mean, look at it this way, Gin. If you're this good now, imagine how good you will be in three years. And no one works harder at it than you. And you weren't even on the team full time last year. They would be crazy not to take you when you get there."

She ignored the nickname, and the unmistakable truth that she wouldn't have let anyone else get away with calling her that. "I don't know, got to make it past the new Gryffindor quidditch captain first to get on full time. I heard he's a bit barmy at times."

He pinched his eyes and let out a bark of a laugh that made her stomach flip.

"Well, if Wood and Angelina are anything to go by, I think that's part of the job description. I'll try to be less of an arse this year than last, but no promises."

"I'll hold you to that, then," she said, the smile still playing on her lips. Merlin, she was borderline flirting now. Friends...they were friends. And she had Dean - she liked Dean. She quickly scanned the room for a change of subject.

"So, what about you? Planning on putting your expert diving grabs to the professional test?"

He let out a small laugh before his face fell, back to the serious and determined look. Her heart sank at the loss of the warmth his smile provided. "Haven't really thought about that to be honest. Tonks is an Auror and Kingsley, so I think, maybe..." he trailed off shrugging, his eyes back to finding the fire. "It just seems right."

Neither one of them spoke for a moment. She knew he was thinking of Voldemort, and broken prophecies, and destinies. She silently kicked herself for not expecting it.

She picked up her broom and got up, feeling his eyes on her again. "Well, I am knackered, so I am off to shower and bed."

He gave her a brief smile. "Yeah, okay. See you."

She was about to turn, but something made her pause. "You know, whatever you decide to do...Auror...quidditch star...moody potion master...". He snorted, and she smirked at him. "It's your choice. And you aren't alone."

She felt it then again, his eyes holding on her, something burning behind them. Something she had just started to notice recently. Something different.

"Thanks, Gin."

[clouded-mushrooms]

LIONBLAZE X HOLLYLEAF X CINDERPELT

TW: INCEST

Hollyleaf and Lionblaze have been dating for a while. At first the clan was disgusted and some cats even attacked them because of it. Their parents were the most affected by this. Brambleclaw wanted nothing to do with his adopted kits, squirrelflight at first didn't say anything to them and sometimes with snap at them.

Leafpool, however didn't mind, she knew it was wrong but, she once had a crush on squirrelflight and still, probably did. Soon the clan calmed down, they still didn't except them but they weren't as hostile. Most warrior would often say horrible thing about them, others gave cold glares. Soon the two just stopped trying to please everyone and became mates.

Lionblaze woke with a start. Some warrior had 'accidentally' stepped on his tail. Letting out a soft growl, he moved his tail trying to curl it around his mate, but hollyleaf wasn't there. Getting up with grunt, be patted out of the warrior den. The golden warrior was met with heated glares. At this point he didn't care. His eyes traveled around camp looking for his mate. But the dark warrior wasn't in camp.

Signing he walked to the medicine den, the only place he was actually welcomed. Jayfeather turned xeir head to the sound of paw steps. "Hey lionblaze" the grumpy cat said. Lionblaze smiled, "Hey how's my favorite favorite brother doing?" The big golden warrior asked. Turning her head she glared at him. "I'm your only brother, idiot!" They snapped. Lionblaze laughed and flicked his brother ear. "Have.. Have you seen Hollyleaf?" He asked hesitantly. He didn't know how his brother felt about their relationship.

The tom flicked his tail, "She went out on a walk, fae seem really upset when I last spoke with faer" the blue-silver tom whispered. It stood up from his pile of herbs and stretched. "Well, I better put up these things, and can.. When you see our sister, please let her know I, and leafpool are always here for fae" the silver-blue tabby dipped his head and went to work.

The golden tabby watched him go, warmth flooded him. He was greatful for jayfeather and leafpool. Padding out of the medicine den, he padded into the forest glade to be out of camp. Lot of cats would snarl and swipe at him. Lionblaze would grit his teeth and continue one. He was so timped to attack them, but hollyleaf would say, 'the warrior code says we shouldn't attack our clanmates!' He let out a half hearted purr.

He continue through the forest following his mates scent trail. As he come close to faer, he could.. Hear sobbing? Worry flooded through him. Rushing over to the beautiful black she-cat. "Hollyleaf?" He spoke softly, reaching out a paw. The black she-cat turned to him, tears fell from her eyes. Lionblaze felt heart broken, he hated seeing faer sad. Going over to her, he sat down and rapped his tail around her. She nuzzled her face into his golden fur, sobbing. The golden warrior spoke softly. "What's wrong?" He asked his mate and sister.

Fae looked up at him, her beautiful green eyes, beaming with emotions. He felt his heart jump, he had never seen her so emotional, since they had gotten together. "Oh lionblaze!" She choked out. She stood up and pulled way from him. She wouldn't meet his eyes. For a while she had been struggling, with something. She had developed a huge crush, on Cinderheart, despite being lionblaze mate. She loved him, but also really like Cinderheart. She didn't know what to do. Fae dug faer claws into the dirt trying to gather faerself.

Lionblaze felt his heart shatter, as his mate pulled away from him. Did she not love him anymore? Was she gonna leave him and get with someone else? His mind began to spin. Taking a deep breath the black she-cat spoke, "lionblaze" her voice was sad and worried. The golden tom shook his thoughts his away and looked at hollyleaf. The she-cat stepped forward. "I love, I do but.. " she paused. "I.. I have a crush on Cinderheart!" She blurted.

Lionblaze looked at her, slightly shocked by this. He too had a crush on the beautiful gray tabby she-cat. He has tried to hide his feelings for her as well, since he got with hollyleaf. But know she had had feelings for Cinderheart as well made him feel better. He smiled and walked over to her and nuzzled her cheek. "I do  too" he whispered. The black she-cat was shocked. Fae has expected him to lash out at her, or scream at her. As she saw her adopted parents do.

When squirrelflight would say something and brambleclaw didn't like it he would lash out at her and talk down to her. She had expected that from her mate, but he didn't and that's what comforted her. Hollyleaf spoke, "you.. Your.. Really? " was all fae could mange to get out. Lionblaze purred, he thought it was really cute when she looked flustered. "Oh course, I was scared to tell you because I thought you would leave me." He said shyly.

The two cats embraced, purring as they did so. "Maybe we should be more open about things like this" hollyleaf laughed. Lionblaze nodded. As the two stood together, black and golden fur tangled together. Hollyleaf popped the question, "should we ask her out? Cinderheart I mean" she said shyly.

As her name was spoken the gray she-cat, walked into the clearing with the two cats. "Ask me what?" She said with a flirty tone. Her blue eyes shined as she watched the two mates jump a part and looked shocked to see her but happy. Hollyleaf walked over to the gray tabby she-cat. "Well.. Me and Lionblaze were wondering.. If.. " Fae trailed off. Cinderheart watched her passionately. Blue eyes and green eyes locked and hollyleaf was taken by her beauty. Lionblaze smiled and walked over to the two to finish what his mate had been saying.

Clearing his throat, he spoke, "We were wondering if you would like to be our mate" he said confidently. Hollyleaf turned away, her face bright with blush. Cinderheart felt her her at jump, the two hottest cats wanted to be her mates?? She jumped at this. "Of course!!" She purred and jumped on the two. Licking their faces. The three cats purred loudly. The three cats would spend the two night cuddling and hunting. The clan didn't a approve of any of this but what could they do? The three cats were happy and would stay like that.

[nikoruistyping]

Sunday Mornings || Tom Holland

Boyfriend!Tom x Fem!reader

Prompt: A Fluffy but Spicy Sunday morning routine with your boyfriend Tom

Summary: You wake up with your boyfriend Tom and you go through your morning routine together but then it ends a bit unexpectedly

TW: Fluff, Semi-Smut, Kissing/Making Out, Partial Nudity, Swearing, Tessa being cute af, Dancing/Bumping and Grinding, Possible Kitchen Fire?

Word Count: 3,175

A/N: I just really wanted to write some quick spicy fluff about how a normal morning would go if you lived with Tom. Also I recommend listening to Cake by the Ocean by DNCE when it is mentioned. I probably missed a lot of details because I rushed this but eventually I want to add more canon stuff as time goes on.

The sun is shining through the little crack in the curtains casting a shadow onto the bedsheets, slowly heating them up and making it hard for you to leave the bed. You scrunch your nose, tossing and turning to the right side of the bed. You can hear the faint stickiness of slobber and panting until you end up getting hit in the face with something clearly soft. (I know what you're thinking but it's not that type of soft and wet). Your eyes flicker open, slowly being greeted with Tessa's bright eyes and her tail wagging back and forth hitting the bedsheets. Her cute smile grows wider when you place your hand on the top of her head and pet her, scratching softly right between her little ears. Her coat so beautiful, that shine of dark grey with a hint of blue, she is truly breathtaking. At this point, you and Tom have been together so long that Tessa saw you as her dog mom, she would even miss you when you would go out to grab groceries.

You hear a faint "Aww" come from the doorframe and you glance out of the corner of your eye seeing Tom. His phone is out, already snapping pictures of you and Tessa as you both whip your heads at him smiling. You stretch your legs out, entangling your naked legs in his soft silk sheets. You run your fingers through your hair rustling up the roots as the rest cascades down your shoulders and down your back earning another whispered "Wow". You let a little smirk come across your face as you wink at him flashing him what he would call "The most beautiful smile he has ever seen."

"You know I can hear you over there you know, right? You could just join us instead of standing there in awe." You say cheekily smiling as you lean in closer to Tessa to give her kisses and she equally does the same with her slobbery tongue.

"I just couldn't help myself, you're both the loves of my life. Although that idea isn't a bad one, I might take you up on that." He says making his way over to the bed and getting on the other side of Tessa as she is in between you both and he starts to pet her back as she is clearly pleased with it that her eyes get dazed and relaxed.

You glance over, smiling at Tom as you can't stop smiling anytime he is near you. Little moments like these made you only fall deeper in love with him, it was the little things that made you smile the most. You both have been living together for 2 years now and this is how most of your Sundays together would start. You knew he would ask any minute now...

"So my darling, what do you want to eat for breakfast today? I promise I won't burn it this time." He says with a little giggle coming from the both of you as you remembered last Sunday he nearly caused a fire on the stove, being as it was the first time you let him make the omelets.

"Well I think the first thing is that I should handle the omelets this time, maybe you can take care of the toast? That is if you can manage not to burn it too." You say raising your eyebrow as you look over to him and he rolls his eyes crossing his arms.

"Oh come on, I'm just joking now! Seriously though you better make sure you have penthouse insurance." You say sticking your tongue out playfully and he just lets out a chuckle in response to your smart remarks.

"Now you don't worry about that, if anything I should get insurance for that flood you almost caused in the bathroom last week." He says snickering at his equally smartass remark right back, being able to joke with him in this way was one thing you loved about your relationship.

"Hey! I swear it was not my fault, the handle of the shower broke and I couldn't shut it off. Not my fault this penthouse keeps breaking, this place has to be cursed. First, your A/C was broken and then there was that blackout when we were watching Netflix. What else can possibly go wrong in this place?" You say remembering fondly how you both would deal with the silly mishaps that would happen. The memories you both had created in his penthouse. Your remark was followed by a bark from Tessa which broke up the conversation.

"Well, this place only started breaking when we started dating so I guess you could say it's cursed with our love." He says with a cheesy smile and you blush at the comment but it earns him a playful slap on the arm.

"I guess we will never know, I'll have to keep living here to find out."

"I have no issue at all with that darling." He says as he leans in close to you, his hand cupping your cheek, his soft lips against yours.

His kisses never get old. The hot passionate kisses, sweet and short kisses, and lustful sloppy kisses all of them being your favorites. His lips were just addictive, you could never help yourself into not wanting to give in or let alone stop yourself. This was all a part of his plan to delay breakfast by seeing if he could spend just 10 more minutes in bed with you cuddling before you'd have to drag him out because your bellies would growl. Every single time you would let him win and get away with it.

You could feel his hands snake around to rest upon your waist pushing the sheets that were covering your legs. Your hands find their way to the nape of his neck, your fingers entangling into his long curly locks, your nails tracing patterns into his scalp. Tessa clearly got the message as Tom kept drawing himself closer to you that she barked hopping out of the bed quickly. You both let out a giggle as your lips parted for only a second, his eyes looking into yours with that little sparkle of his. You tugged lightly at his hair knowing he loved how you would always play with it and he crawled in closer till he was on top of you, his muscular build towering over your small yet thicker frame. His lips pressed up against yours, his hands roaming up your body, his hand slipping under your shirt squeezing your delicate body in all the right ways. Both of your legs were entangled together as the only thing you could focus on was his soft flushed lips brushing and pressing up against your own as your tounges danced in unison, pressing and pushing against each other. He quickly started to pepper kisses down your jawline and towards your neck knowing it was your weak spot. You could feel his eyes on you taking in every little squirm and gasp leaving your lips that you tried so hard to hold in.

"Tom...you're trying to stall aren't you-," You say biting your lip in the process as he pauses to look up at you, his hands sliding down to rest on your thighs.

"Hmm...maybe...maybe not, I just wanted to enjoy a few more minutes in bed with you. Is that a crime?" He asks, his voice as innocent as ever.

"It certainly isn't but by the way, you're kissing me those are kisses that are gonna land us in bed for the rest of the day and not a few minutes," You say with a little smirk because he knew exactly what you meant.

"Come on, I'm seriously hungry. Plus I don't think I would be able to continue while Tessa watches." You say laughing as you point towards the doorway. You see her as she patiently sits waiting for you both to get out of bed. Tom turns his head to look at the door and groans a bit but still laughs at the situation.

"Fine, fine, you know I like to cuddle when you wake up but if you want to eat then so be it. Come on darling." He says as he pushes himself up with his elbows and hops out of the bed, his hand stretched out to help you up.

You take his hand and pop out of bed, following his lead as you start to toss your hair into a messy bun and make your way down the hall of the lovely apartment you both share. Tessa's paws clacked on the wooden floors as she was at both of your feet and following you towards the kitchen. You see Tom bend down to one of the kitchen cabinets to go grab the frying pans and then making his way to the fridge to grab the eggs for you.

"Remember Tommy, you're on toast duty. No omelet making for you." You say in a semi-serious tone but letting out a giggle as you go over to the sink turning the faucet on and washing your hands to get started cooking. You go over to the rack as you grab your apron off the hook and you tie it tightly making sure it was secure around your body so you wouldn't make a mess all over your PJs.

"Yes, chef!" He says in a playful tone as he salutes you from across the kitchen and you can't help but laugh at how silly he could be sometimes.

You go over to grab one of the frying pans ready to heat it up as you grab the eggs Tom had taken out for you and you crack them one by one, taking a fork to whisk them into a bright yellow liquid. You poured the liquid into the pan and started to slowly stir and curdle the egg just enough so that it would be perfect for flipping.

Meanwhile, you look down the kitchen counter, towards the toaster, and you can already see Tom is up to no good as he pulls out his phone and puts on an upbeat song on blast as it plays in the background. Cake by the Ocean starts playing and you can already see him making his way to you as you stand over the stove with a spatula in hand. You glance over to see him moving his hips to the rhythm of the song and doing the cutest little dance as he pops the toast into the toaster and turns the dial. You can see him slowly shimming his way down to the stove where you stood as he was still jamming out, humming the tune to himself as his whole body seemed to be moving to the beat.

"Those dance moves aren't too shabby babe." You comment as you try your best to focus on the eggs making sure they don't burn this time.

Next thing you know he was already behind you, still moving his feet and hips to the beat, his hands gluing themselves to your waist from behind. His fingers trying to move your hips to match his rhythm, squeezing your curves as you could feel his hands travel next to your abdomen, sprawling against the skin on your stomach. He starts to slowly undo the knot you had tied on the back of your apron. You start to slowly give in as you started to move your feet to the beat stepping back and forth and your shoulders rolling side to side.

"It would be even more fun if you joined me." He says whispering into your ear, a cheeky smile that you could feel come across his lips even though you weren't even looking at him yet.

You make sure to lower the heat, turning the knob all the way down, as you give in to his charming skills to get you to dance, and by the time you turn around he had already taken off your apron and it went flying to the floor. The song still playing in the background and the moment the word "Cake" is said in the song you could feel his hands squeeze your ass as you had quickly wrapped your arms around his neck and followed his steps.

"I swear Tommy you're gonna cause a fire in this kitchen one day." You say as you're still following the beat and rolling your whole body as you can feel him take advantage of the situation to unnecessarily grind against you, although you weren't complaining one bit.

"Depends...where exactly is that fire located?" He says raising an eyebrow as he looks up and down your body and he grabs your waist once more, spinning you around as you follow the movement and you come right back to him, your hands landing on his chest as he catches you in his arms.

"I guess you're going to have to find out." You say with a cheeky smile and you push him back, his legs hitting the back of the kitchen counter as his hands gripped the marble top.

Your fingers slowly make their way down his bare chest, oh how you loved seeing him shirtless. You could feel the goosebumps forming on his skin as you touched him and his eyes never faltered looking at you as he saw how much powers you sometimes really had over him to just make him melt in the palm of your hand. One of your fingers traced a pattern onto his v-line as you teased at the band of his sweatpants. Your hands made their way back up to his face as you cupped his face, your fingers sprawling across his cheeks as you wrapped your arms around his neck, you just kept looking at him in those mysterious brown eyes of his making you bite your lip in the process.

"Don't mind if I do." He says as you can feel his hands quickly reach your waist and the next thing you know you were the one with your legs up against the kitchen counter as he took control of the situation. 

You hopped onto the counter as he closed the gap in between you both as he pushed further between your legs. His hands came up to cup your face as he slowly placed his lips on your and it never got old how passionate and loving his kisses were. You took the liberty of wrapping your legs around his waist bringing him as close as humanly possible to you as your raked your fingers through his messy bedhead curls the more that your lips moved against his in unison. His tongue pushed against yours as you both seemed to lose track of time and get entranced in the kiss. He pulled away from the kiss and started to pepper kisses down your jaw, your neck, and making sure to suck gently on the spot that got you melting like butter. You let a small moan escape your lips hoping he couldn't hear how good you actually felt but the way you curled your fingers behind his neck definitely let him know that you were clearly enjoying yourself. He started to make his way down your body, when coming into contact with your baggy t-shirt, he smirked as his hands slid underneath your shirt with no problem and he was already lifting it off your head for you as you were completely exposed and half-naked now. You let out a gasp at the cold air hitting your body, which made you only tighten your legs around his waist and he took that as an encouragement to keep going as his kisses slowly started to descent down the valley between your breasts, onto your stomach, and down to your waistline. His nimble fingers found no issue whatsoever hooking into the side of your panties as he started to slowly pull them down. You were so close to already losing your mind and wanting him to just taste you as you bit your lip trying to hold in all the pretty sounds your mouth was making. His lips delicately touched your inner thigh as his kisses only got closer and closer to the heat between your legs.

Before he could continue any further in wanting to just devour you, the smell of burnt was clouding up the kitchen and your headshot up and your legs closed on instinct and hitting his head in the process.

"Ow! What was that for-" Tom was protesting but before he could continue any further the fire alarm started to go off, beeping like no tomorrow as the kitchen started to be fogged up by the smell of burnt toast and eggs.

"Fuck! Fuck!" He started to say as he quickly ran over to the toaster turning it off and quickly turning the dial on the stove off completely as he started to cough at all the smoke filling up the apartment, Tessa's barking not faltering as she came in running to the kitchen and barking at the alarm kept screeching.

You scramble to put yourself together by pulling up your panties and grabbing your shirt and putting it on again as you hopped off the counter and went over to the window opening the latch and hoping it could air out the smoke.

"See, Tom! I told you that you would cause a fire in this kitchen." You say with a cough as you laugh at the same time.

"Well in my defense it was not only my fault, I got distracted..." He says as he looks your way and you just roll your eyes at him.

"Definitely not an excuse Mr. Holland." You say as you fan your hands back and forth as you try to fan the smoke out of the apartment the best way you can.

"You're going to have to fix this fire later," You say as you motion to your nether regions.

"But right now you better get dressed and go get breakfast somewhere because I'm starving and you know I get angry when I'm hungry." You say as if commanding him to do so as you point to the bedroom and he lets out a groan of annoyance.

"There clearly is no Sunday morning that isn't exciting when it comes to you." He says with a quick smile as he walks over to you, giving you a kiss on the cheek as your arms are crossed and your face still in a grumpy pout. You let up the façade and you kiss him right back on the cheek your hands squeezing his shoulders.

"I love you darling but right now I have a big kitchen mess to clean up and you still have breakfast to go get for us." You say as you pat his arm and you let out a big sigh as you look at the big mess you had to look forward to cleaning.

"Gotta love Sunday mornings..." you say to yourself letting out an exhausted sigh.

Complete Masterlist

Got a Request? Check out my Guidelines!

[cardansriddle]

“A tragic love story”- Tom Riddle

Warnings: Mentions of injury, kinda sad? idk

A/N: I really wanted to write a one shot involving “tending to your enemy’s wounds” trope, however this did not turn out the way I expected. 

A loud gasp left your lips as your clothes shifted against the deep gash on your spine, sending jolts of unbearable pain through your body, and you fought against your hazy mind to stay awake despite the loss of blood.

You pressed your hand against your mouth to muffle your pained whimpers, biting on the soft flesh hard enough to draw blood. The other hand gripped onto your wand tightly, in case someone would find your pitiful hiding spot in the middle of the battleground, yet deep down you knew you had no energy left in you to fight anymore.

“Fuck.” You whispered to yourself, wishing someone you knew would stumble across you and take you away, yet you should have been more careful about what you wished for when someone you did know stumbled upon you, and he did take you away, however, that person was not exactly on your list of allies.

Because that person happened to be Tom Riddle.

The same Tom Riddle who had almost taken over the world, and had started yet another Wizarding War.

It was safe to say you two had quite the history.

As one of the most high-ranked Aurors, you were tasked with hunting down the man and bringing him down at any cost. You had spent countless years chasing the cunning wizard in an attempt to murder him and put an end to his genocide, however, no matter how many encounters you two had, how many battles you fought against each other, one of you would always end up getting away before the other could get close enough to killing. It was almost like you danced around each other indecisively.

However, the battle that had gotten you severely injured was not one of those one-on-one encounters. It was a fight of two sides, a fight that involved hundreds of people, a war.

And as you watched Riddle take you into his arms and apparate away from the battlefield, you were certain the time of your death had already approached. Perhaps he was taking you away to make a ceremony of your death. After all, you two hated each other with a passion and had been trying to eliminate the other for a number of years.

“Shit.” The word left his lips, followed by a string of curses as he put you down on a soft surface that you assumed was a bed. “Stay awake.” He commanded firmly, and if you had the energy you would have hexed him for telling you what to do.

“The fuck are you doing, Riddle?” You hissed.

“Shut the fuck up.”

His hands lingered at the hem of your shirt. “I need to take off your shirt.” He said, his voice strained and hoarse. You opened your mouth to protest, yet your words died on your tongue at the look on his face. Stern. Unyielding.

What more could you lose anyway?

With a single nod, you gave him your consent yet you were not prepared for the feel of his fingers trailing along your body as he raised your shirt. When it reached the gash on your back, you let out a pained hiss at the unpleasant sensation. The dark glare you sent his way did not go unnoticed by him either.

“Sit still.” He commanded, irritated at your shifting.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Riddle. It is not like I have a fucking stab wound in my spine.” You shot back.

He exhaled sharply through his nose, biting back the sharp remarks that you were sure on the tip of his tongue. Yet all you could focus on was the cold air against your bare skin.

It was when his fingers touched an old scar on your lower back did it suddenly dawn upon you that you were sitting half-naked in front of your sworn enemy. Heat engulfed all your body, and you felt your cheeks redden at the situation you had ended up in.

His finger gently traced the scar. “Who did this to you?”

You snorted humorously, before turning slightly to look back at him over your shoulder. “You don’t remember?” You asked with a raised brow, and a small smile graced your lips as you watched him come to the realisation slowly.

“Ah yes. I remember giving you this one. I have a matching one on my back.” He shook his head at the memory, strands of his hair falling on his face at the action and you had to resist the urge of pushing them back with your fingers.

“I was proud for giving you that one.” You admitted. He raised his head to meet your eyes, and you were surprised to see something akin to fondness flash in his eyes.

His eyes flickered down to your lips before he gently grabbed your chin before leaning in and pressing his lips softly against yours, and despite the warning bells ringing in your brain, you kissed him back.

You pulled away slightly, resting your forehead against his and closing your eyes. “We can’t.” The pained whisper left your lips.

His hand on your chin travelled up to cup the side of your face. “I have wanted to kiss you ever since you gave me that scar.”

You had to refrain from laughing. “That is the least romantic thing ever.”

“I am not romantic.” He shot back, and this time, you laughed. “Yes, I know.”

For a brief moment, you allowed yourself to revel in the feel of him, so close to you yet so out of reach at the same time. You knew what you wished for was a mere fantasy. You have heard tragic stories and tales of two people on the opposite sides of war falling in love. And they were called tragic for a reason.

You knew this would never end well.

“The fight—” You started to say, but he cut you off by placing a finger on your lips.

“Let’s forget about it for just this moment.” And with that, he pulled you into a kiss, a kiss full of promises that would never be fulfilled.

[itsallyscorner]

Omg after Tom showing off his thighs in that Jimmy Fallon interview, please please please could you write something about thigh riding him 💙

Not me immediately working on this once I saw it in my inbox💀 I’m supposed to be clearing my inbox out, but when this popped in I couldn’t help it🙈 I also haven’t done smut in a while so THANK YOU for requesting this😌💞

💌.

Use Me*

Warnings: SMUT! She’s a nasty one. If this is a bit messy, I’m sorry, I haven’t written smut in ages😭

(GIF from @tomhollandnet )

“Citizen Kane!” Your boyfriend confidently blurted out to his laptop. He must’ve done something wrong because his eyes widened in surprise.

“Oh, hang on a minute!” He stuttered placing his hand on his chest. You heard Jimmy Fallon laugh from the laptop and explain the rules of the game again. You let out a quiet laugh yourself from behind his set up, though your eyes drifted down to his bare legs that bounced up and down.

For the past few weeks, Tom has been doing promo for his new and highly anticipated film Cherry. While trying to balance filming Spider-Man 3 and doing promo, you guys barely had time to spend together. Not that it bothered you; you understood how hectic his job could get, so you weren’t phased by the back to back Zoom interviews or how he’d join you in bed late at night after a long day on set.

The lost time between the both of you must’ve finally caught up on Tom as he woke up clingier than usual. The moment his eyes fluttered open he felt the need to touch you, to have his skin pressed up against yours, and to feel the warmth that radiated off your body. He just wanted to have you near him—the reason to why he begged you to spend the entire day with him.

You should have been listening to Tom talking passionately about his film, but your mind drifted off to the gutter. Only a few feet away from you was your boyfriend sitting behind a desk, wearing a black shirt, topped with a black blazer, pantless. The only garments covering his bottom half were his boxers and socks, leaving his thighs bare and tempting to your eyes. You tried to avoid looking at them, forcing your attention to focus on the words coming out his mouth, but your eyes were constantly drifting down to his thighs. From the way Tom rubbed his rough hands on them to the way they flexed whenever he moved was starting to cause a pool of arousal to form in your panties.

Tom’s voice faded into the background as you stared blankly at his thighs, imagining how the smooth skin would feel against your wet cunt. You bit your lip, mind wandering to the thought of Tom flexing his thigh while you grinded your hips against him. The ideas in your head caused you to unconsciously squeeze your thighs together. Trying to relieve yourself of the hot tension forming in your body. Though, the action doesn’t go unnoticed by your boyfriend, who had a small smirk on his face after catching you in the corner of his eyes.

A few more minutes pass and he was already finishing up his interview with Jimmy. Though you didn’t notice since your attention was still fixated on his sculpted thighs. That and you were constantly adjusting yourself in your seat because of how embarrassingly wet your panties were getting. You attempted to distract yourself with your phone and scrolled mindlessly through Instagram. You weren’t even looking at the posts, just randomly double tapping and scrolling past them. Much to your dismay, your ways of distraction failed once again. Instead of focusing on your screen, your eyes zeroed in on Tom’s legs.

“You know darling, I could practically feel your eyes burning holes into my thighs.” He suddenly teased you. You felt the heat rush to your face as you hid behind your phone screen.

“I’m not looking at your thighs.” You pathetically lied, turning your phone off, and crossing your arms. His tired but rich chocolate colored eyes capture yours. There was a hint of playfulness mixed with lust in them. He wasn’t oblivious, he could feel the tension growing in the room.

Tom tilts his head to the side, “Then why were you consistently staring at my legs?” He crossed his legs making his thighs momentarily flex again.

“I was looking at your socks.”

“What about my socks?” He quirked a brow at you.

“They’re dirty.” You shrugged.

“Really? But my socks are down there, not up here.” He cheekily quipped, motioning to his lap. You whined and threw your head back against the couch, shoving a pillow to your face in the process.

“Busted.” Tom sang huskily before pulling his bottom lip in between his teeth. He scanned your figure on the couch, eyes lingering on the way your legs were still clenched together.

“C’mere.” His voice was an octave lower, catching your attention. You pull the pillow off your face and see him gazing down at you from his seat, legs spread out in front of him. You toss your phone on the couch and walk towards him. His hands reach out for you midway, then settle to grasp on your hips.

“Mmm, baby, I can smell you.” His hands maneuver around your waist to squeeze your bum, emitting a light hum from you. You draped one of your arms around his shoulder while your hand cradled his jaw.

“Sorry, I can’t help it. Stupid thighs.” You mumble, the blush remaining on your cheeks.

“I want you to get off these stupid thighs. Use me, (y/n).” He encouraged, pulling you closer. You were about to agree but his attire reminded you that he had an interview in a few minutes.

“Wait—Tom, don’t you have another interview?” You asked him, shaking yourself out of your trance of arousal and pulling away from him. Tom whined, dragging you back towards his chest.

“In like 15 or 20 minutes, it’s enough time.” He reached behind you and slammed his laptop shut. He clumsily got out of his chair and led you to the loveseat behind him. He sat down and placed you in between his legs.

While he pulled your shorts and panties off you continued to question him, “Are you sure, Tommy?” He tapped your ankles, signaling for you to step out of your undergarments.

Tom stopped and looked up at you, “Yes, I’m sure. We have to be quick, but I just wanna feel you on me. We could continue when I’m done, promise.” He held your hands and pressed a kiss onto the back of them.

“Ok. But if you get in trouble, I swear—oh.” You were interrupted by Tom pressing a sloppy kiss above your mound. He placed your hands to rest on his shoulders and guided you to straddle his thigh. Once you were settled, he slipped two of his fingers between your legs to gather some of your wetness. He groaned at how soaked you were, leaving his fingers to slide through your folds a little bit longer. When he took them out, his fingers were covered in your glossy juices. He wiped some of your slick onto your lips before shoving his fingers into his mouth.

“Taste so fucking good, shit.” Tom growled, crashing his lips onto yours. The kiss was passionately messy; tongues dancing around each other while your teeth clashed from time to time, along with the taste of you on both your lips. Tom was the first to pull away still biting down on your bottom lip, “Come on, wanna feel you ride my thigh.” He scooted back into the seat, guiding your hips to settle down on his thigh. Your knees ached from kneeling on the couch’s material, but the burn you felt in your core urged you to put up a fight.

The moment you came into contact with his thigh felt like euphoria. Your eyes rolled back and a moan dragged out of your body. The pleasurable sensation of finally relieving the burn in your core rushed through your body. Another tension was building up in you, desperation. Grinding your hips down on him repeatedly made you obsessed with how he felt under you, making you desperate to get more.

You had no problem rocking against him, your wetness made it easy enough for you to simply slide your hips up and down the expanse of his firm thighs. Tom moaned at how soaked his skin felt while your folds rubbed up against him. Feeling you on him made him flex his thigh under you, causing you to ground your hips even harder against him. His thigh was lathered in your wetness.

“Fuck, Tom.” You whimper out, harshly squeezing his shoulders for leverage.

“You feel so good on me. You look so good using me to get off, such a pretty girl.” He praised you. He momentarily sat back to admire the way you looked at the moment. Your hair was a bit messy and you were wearing one of his shirts, which was rudely blocking his view of you on him. His long fingers hook beneath the shirt and lift it up, giving him the perfect view of your cunt gliding on his thigh. His jaw clenched at the sight taking a mental picture.

Tom sat up on the couch, gathering your shirt to bunch up right above your breast. He dives into your chest, yanking down the cups of your bra to expose your boobs. He places wet and open mouthed kisses on them, giving them both the attention they needed. You were a moaning mess above him, enjoying the way his tongue swirled around your nipples. When a dark red mark appeared on your skin he trailed the kisses up to your neck until he reached the special spot below your ear. He started off with light kisses before sinking his teeth down on your soft skin. The bite only spurred you on, hips moving faster against him.

While his mouth worked on marking your neck, his leg that you were on moved to meet your hips. The motion made your clit graze against him, forming whines to bubble out your throat. You fucked yourself harder on his thigh, making sure your clit was also rubbing against him as you chased your release. Tom felt they way your legs quivered around him, signing that you were almost there.

Tom’s arm wraps around your waist, helping you hold yourself up against him. With his other hand he gently cradles your face. His lips brush against yours and your noses occasionally bump into each other. A lopsided grin is on his face as he stares at you. He catches the way the corner of your lips quirk up for a matter of seconds until your features scrunch up in concentration again.

“You’re doing such a good job, darling. I could feel you clenching on me, you’re close aren’t you?” He latches your lips together, swallowing your moans. Your fingers pulled tighter on the ends of his hair, making him groan.

“Can’t mess the hair up.” He managed to get out. You grunted and tugged on his hair before your hands returned to his shoulders. Tom pecked your lips once more before leaning back into the couch. Without any warning, his hand lightly swated your clit. You yelped in surprise at the sudden contact. Tom only chuckled, earning him a slap to the chest and a glare from you.

“Sorry, sorry, I know we’re short on time.” He apologized and connected his thumb to your clit. The rough pad made tight circles around your bud. With the friction of his thigh against you and his thumb on your clit you were seeing stars. You were so out of it, only feeling the euphoric pleasures coursing through your senses. The quicker and sharper his circles got, the closer you felt to your relief.

“Just like that Tom, fuck. Keep going I’m close.” Your back arched. Tom shoved his head in between your breasts again, littering sloppy kisses on your chest.

“C’mon, cum on me, baby.” He urged you, holding your body flush against him. His head was tilted up at you, staring at the way your mouth was hung open in pleasure. He loved watching your face when you came, it drove him mad.

Your stomach tightens along with your legs that straddled him. You let out a mix of a shaky gasp and moan, feeling the knot in your stomach come undone. Tom threw his head back against the couch while watching you release on his thigh, your cum gushing out against him.

“Fuck.” He breathed out, eyes glued to your release. You let out pants as aftershocks from your release wracked your body. Tom was quick to guide your body against him, not caring that his clothes might wrinkle. He placed your head in the crook of his neck and pressed kisses along your face. His large hands stroke your back, helping you come down from your high. Laying against him, all he felt was you; from your heart rapidly beating against his chest to the feeling of you trying to steady your breathing.

“You alright?” He whispered against your hair. You tiredly nodded, giving yourself a moment to calm down.

“Yeah—just need a minute and I’ll get off of you.” You reply, tenderly kissing his collarbone. Tom whines tightening his grip around you, “I don’t want you to go.”

“I don’t either, but,” you reach over to tap the screen of his phone, “You’ve got eight minutes left till your next interview.”

You feel something firm poke against your leg, “How you ever wondered if you can cum in under eight minutes?” The sentence caught Tom off guard, making him raise a brow at you. You tilted your head south of his body, motioning to his dick.

Tom shifted his gaze between you and his hard on, “Wanna find out?”

Tom Holland + Character Tags:

*username with line through it does not work*

↳ @lovableparker @aprettyfleur @sunwardsss @dummiesshort @thotforcriminalminds @cuddlykoala101 @itstaskeen @whoslili @white-wolf1940 @tomsirishgirlx @roseke

General Tags:

↳ @quxxnxfhxll @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @thegirlwiththediary

[arvinsescape]

Can I request a Tom x reader where they have been dating for a while and Tom wants to take a break and get away a from all the fans and paparazzi so they go off to a private cabin with no one around and it’s surrounded by trees and they have a hot tub in the backyard and they decide to go into the hot tub at night then Tom starts to massage her shoulders and starts to take off her bikini and turns the jets on and pushes y/n up against the jet while fingering her and overstimulating her

Hot Tub Antics.

A/N: I was too excited to write this and I just couldn't hold off any longer!! Thank you so much for sending this in, I love it and I hope you enjoy!! 💕💕

Warnings: Language, smut (fingering, overstimulation, unprotected sex (wrap it up, stay safe)). Minors do not engage.

Tom was so incredibly tired, he needed a break, he hadn't seen you properly in what felt like months. He'd seen you but not in the way he'd like, the hype surrounding his latest films coming out was just draining. He didn't want to sound ungrateful, he really didn't but honestly? He just wanted time, alone, with you.

You'd always been supportive, in the two years you'd been dating him you'd never complained about the time away he had to spend. Never complained when he'd had to disappear for an interview, even if it meant ruining your cuddling session on the couch or interrupted dinner if he had a last minute call. He loved you truly and right now, all he wanted was you, his ache to just be with you uninterrupted was strong, almost painful.

The fans and the paparazzi where tiring him, he couldn't go anywhere at the moment without someone approaching him. He just needed to get away, before it all became too much, before he started snapping at them unfairly. He didn't want to come across as a dick but he needed a break.

That's what brought you both here, he'd found a secluded cabin, one no one would find. It was alone, not a single other cabin around, almost like it was meant for the exact purpose he needed it. It was beautiful, scenic, the trees surrounding it where peaceful.

"You brought me out here to kill me?" You joked as you admired your surroundings.

"Caught me." He teased back and you laughed loudly at that.

"I'd like to see you try Holland." You said and he looked down at you with a playful glint in his eye. He loved this aspect of your relationship, playful, free. Made him feel young when the world made him feel older at times.

"I'll give you a five second head start." He smirked and he watched as you bit your lip and took off into the cabin. It wasn't long before he had you pinned on the floor, tickling you as his tiredness towards the world washed away. He laughed at your giggles, it'd been a while since you'd done anything fun like this.

"Tom?" You said after a while, laughing calming as you placed your hand on his cheek.

"Yeah?" He asked from his position above you.

"I've missed you." You said and he knew what you meant by that, you'd missed him in the same way he'd missed you. He'd seen you but not properly.

It had always been in between other things when he did, too tired to do much. Too stressed to play fight, something the two of you did regularly. It was nice.

"I've missed you too." He answered easily.

**

It had been a chilled out day, neither really expecting much from the other as they just enjoyed each other's company. It was night time, a cool breeze to the air as darkness settled in, it was peaceful, quiet. A stark contrast to the screaming and flashing lights he'd been enduring for the last few months.

"You getting in?" He asked as he looked up at you, you'd been admiring the view for a while, it wasn't often you both got to feel so encased in nature, cities taking up most of your lives.

"Yeah." You said as you slipped into the hot tub next to him, sighing as your body made contact with the warm water. You sat across from him as you chattered away about something or another but you weren't close enough.

"Come here." He mumbled as he reached for your hand which you happily took, a light scream leaving your lips as he pulled you easily into him. "Love you." He said into your hair as you settled against his chest, returning the affectionate words.

You stayed like that for a while, enjoying each other's company. Tom had his arm slung over the back of the hot tub as you sat next to him, he watched as you took a sip out of your wine glass before placing it back on the side.

He moved his hand down to your shoulder after he watched you roll them. You leaned up and kissed his cheek, Tom smiling as he returned the gesture. He moved you so you were between his legs, placing his hands on your shoulders.

"Tom, what are you doing?" You asked and he lent forward, placing a quick kiss to your shoulder blade.

"Just relax." He said and you did, instantly as his hands massaged your shoulders, your head rolling back at the sensation. No matter how many times Tom did this, you could never get enough.

Tom watched as you responded to his touch, getting lost in the soft sighs of pleasure leaving your lips. It wasn't long before his thoughts went elsewhere, especially when you practically moaned as he dug his thumb into a knot and loosened it.

"That's nice." You sighed and Tom moved to place a kiss to your neck. Chin resting on your shoulder as he snaked his arms around your waist pulling you flush against him. Back pressed firmly into his chest.

"Yeah?" Tom asked as he watched you nod, head falling back onto his shoulder. It'd been a while since you'd been able to do this, take your time over sex, it had been quick fucks in between interviews or filming. Getting each other off as quick as possible because you were both so tired, that was if either of you even felt up to it. Tom wasn't gonna let this opportunity pass.

"You look so pretty." He said into your ear as he placed his hands on your stomach, hands splayed out on the exposed flesh. He hadn't missed how hot you looked in your bikini.

"So do you." You responded as you rolled your head to kiss his cheek. However, he swiftly moved his head, capturing your lips in his own. You hummed into the kiss, hand moving to run through his hair. You scratched at his head in the way he loved, he found it comforting and a turn on all at the same time.

It was completely full of passion, Tom's hands roaming as the slid up your body, cupping your bikini clad breasts. He felt as your nipples hardened under the touch and licked your bottom lip, asking for entrance which you granted.

He moved a hand up your back, finding the ties that kept your bikini top on, making swift work of undoing them, the top floating away as your exposed breasts fell back into his greedy hands. He rolled a nipple between his fingers and heard as you moaned quietly against his lips.

His hand snaked down to your bikini bottoms, playing with the hem for a moment before he slid his hand in, he didn't miss the way your breathing picked up. The way your body responded to his touch, it was like you both could feel it, it had been a while since you'd taken your time and it was clear you were both going to enjoy this.

Not that you didn't always enjoy sex, you truly did, he always made sure you got off but sometimes it came quicker than both of you liked. Tom was a very selfless man in bed, he liked to make sure you orgasmed multiple times and wasn't satisfied with the lack of orgasms you'd had recently.

"Tom." You panted into his ear and he groaned, yeah you were gonna come multiple times tonight. That much he would make sure of.

His finger ran through your slit, teasing your entrance as he placed an arm around your waist, tightening it to keep you still and flush against him.

"I've missed you." He said as he sucked at your neck, his finger finding your clit as he rubbed it in soft circles. The rise and fall of your chest becoming harder as you panted into his ear, the occasional moan slipping past your lips.

"You can be as loud as you want, no one's gonna hear you out here." He said, encouraging your moans, lips attaching to the skin below your earlobe, sucking at the spot he knew would have you moaning.

"Tom, please." You moaned, hand fisting his hair. He applied more pressure to your clit, rubbing faster circles, your moans becoming the only sound in the otherwise silent environment. Tom loved it, it'd been a while since these kind of moans had graced his ears and he couldn't wait to bring you to your next few orgasms, knowing they'd only get better.

Your back arched from his chest as your climax approached, Tom holding you closer against him as he brought you to your first high.

"Come for me Y/N, come on." He said as he bit down on your lobe, groaning as your hand fisted tighter in his hair, his cock was hard, incredibly so. Your head rolled on his shoulder as your orgasm took over, the first one of the night as Tom rubbed your clit through it.

Your hand relaxed in his hair as you turned your head and captured his lips, biting his bottom lip as he continued to rub your clit. You were sensitive now, your first orgasm having been one of the best you'd had for a while.

"I'm not finished with you princess." Tom said as he kissed your temple, a shiver running down your spine at his words.

You were left confused for a second before he moved you, turning you so you were now facing the edge of the hot tub, you wondered what he was doing when his hands left you for a moment, he took your bikini bottoms off and re-joined you. He took both your hands in his and placed them on the side of the hot tub.

You wondered what he was playing at when he moved his hand again. You gasped as you felt it, the jets had now been turned on and Tom's hands were back on your waist. He moved you slightly before your sensitive clit came in contact with one of the jets and you moaned. Your sensitive clit feeling everything.

"There we go." Tom said as he kept you in place, your body filling with nothing but euphoria. The pleasure heightened as your clit felt everything. You felt as Tom's fingers teased your entrance, carefully sliding in and you moaned. "Take my fingers so well don't you?" Tom said, lips back at your ear as you felt his chest against your back again.

He continued to pump his fingers in and out of you, you were a moaning mess, Tom's free hand moving to lace with one of yours as he held it down at the side of the tub. The pleasure was incredible, completely consuming as you felt your second orgasm approach.

"Tom, I'm." You couldn't even finish your sentence as you pleasure built up through your veins, consuming every part of your brain. Your vision becoming slightly blurred. You closed them and threw your head back.

"Give me another, come on. Come for me baby, make a mess of my fingers." He said as he fucked his fingers quicker, brushing your spot as you orgasmed again. You screamed his name as the pleasure took over, completely consuming you and you were glad no one could hear the obscene sounds you made as Tom fucked you through your high.

You came down and instantly tried to move your clit away from the jet, the pleasure becoming too much. Tom let you shift slightly, clit no longer feeling the blast of the jet.

"Did so well for me princess, what do you want?" He asked as he kissed your temple, bringing you into an upright position as he held you against him and your head rolled to the side on his chest. Breathing still uneven as you continued to calm down.

"Your dick." You said simply and he smiled, kissing your temple again as he moved to the seat in the tub, sitting, bringing you with him. He encouraged you to turn around, stroking his thumb across your cheek as he looked into your eyes.

"So beautiful." He mumbled as he captured your lips in his own. "Come on, hop on." He smirked as he pulled you into him, you weren't sure when he'd taken his swim shorts off but he had. He guided himself into you, giving you a moment to adjust.

You gasped as he entered you, two orgasms meant you could feel every single inch of him as he entered you. You grasped his shoulders as you gave yourself a minute, everything felt like it was on fire, burning through your veins.

"Fuck, so fucking tight." He said as he placed his hands on your hips, you nodded at him, signalling you were ready to move and Tom wasted no time in slowly drawing your hips back before slamming them back down on him. Both moaning at the feeling.

"Fuck, shit." Tom said as he continued. You took over, fucking into him as he met your thrusts. His hands running everywhere, almost like he couldn't decide where he wanted to feel so he felt all of it. Your body was shaking slightly from the pleasure.

Tom finally placed his hands on your shaking thighs, taking over as your third orgasm approached. You blacked out slightly, your orgasm hitting you as soon as Tom touched your over sensitive bundle of nerves.

"I've got you baby, that's it, that's right, come for me. How many is that? Three? So good, taking everything I'm giving you." Tom whispered into your ear as everyone of your senses blurred, he came shortly after. Your senses came back to normal, you smiled down at him as you did.

"Fucking hell." You breathed out, he was still inside you, still hard and you wondered if you'd imagined him finishing. "Did you not?" You asked in confusion and Tom smirked as he captured your lips in a swift kiss.

"Oh I did, but watching you orgasm like that? Fuck." He said as he stroked your hair, standing with you as he carried you out of the hot tub. "I'm not finished with you yet babygirl." His lustful voice filled your ears and you moaned. You were in for a night of pure pleasure, you knew that much.

[t-o-m-hollands]

Summery: You and Tom bet on who will touch the other first after he comes home from filming. Both refusing to give in you resort to some teasing measures to get the other one to break.

Pairing; Tom + female reader.

Themes: Light-hearted, lots of teasing. Established relationship. Fluff. Cocky Tom. Cocky reader too, let’s face it. They are both stubborn idiots. Lots of horniness all around. To be honest, very little plot and mostly smut. Bit of fluff as well though. 

Warnings: Unprotected sex in established relationship. Masturbation. This work is strictly +18.

A/N: Not beta-read, I’m wine drunk and wrote this in like 2,5 hours so it is what it is. 

It was such a stupid fucking bet and he wish he never agreed to it. It is all your fault, he decides, as he watches you bend over into downward dog, your breathing rhythmic and even as you stretch your beautiful body. He tries to look away from your ass, honestly he does, but you’re wearing those light grey yoga pants that practically has him drooling and the fabric is hugging your body so perfectly it would be a crime to look away. 

Plus, he’s pretty sure that’s the whole point of you doing this, practicing yoga in the living room right in front of him as he’s supposed to be working. The whole point is to have him staring, so he doesn’t feel too bad about it. 

It had all started the week before he was set to return from filming. He had teased you (and sure, in retrospect that was a terrible idea and he should have known better) had said that you would jump him the first chance you got, that he probably wouldn’t even get through the door before you had him out of his jeans. You had retaliated with an accusation that he would be the one all over you and obviously he had to deny that.

It had spiraled, neither one of you willing to give in and admit defeat and now here you are; a full day after his return and he hasn’t as much as hugged you. 

Because whoever touches the other first loses the bet. 

And now here you are, in front of him; wearing skin tight yoga pants and bending over. 

A part of him, the midsection of his body to be precise, wants to just give in; to hand you the victory - fuck his pride. But the part of him, the rational part he likes to think, that has him bashing up golf clubs every time his dad beats him in a golf round; refuses to give in.

So what if he hasn’t seen you, hasn’t felt your body in over three months? Or that he now has your magnificent ass right in his face as he’s trying to concentrate on his dull emails. So what? He’s not faced by that, he’s a man of the world after all. 

You lean forwards again until you’re on the ground, turn to your back and start to slowly but steadily push your hips up and down, in what Tom can only assume, is referred to as the ghost fucking position. 

“Aren’t you supposed to answer emails?” You ask and he doesn’t even need to look at your face to know that you have a smug smile on your face.

“I am” he mutters, looking away from your body on the floor and back to his phone screen. 

You laugh, and he pretends not to hear it, while you pretend that the visible hard-on he’s sporting doesn't make you want to climb into his lap and give in to both of your temptations. 

The bet was stupid and totally his idea.

Tom comes out of the shower, drops of water still pouring from his wet hair onto his sculpted chest. The only thing he’s wearing is the white towel wrapped around his waist and the silver Rolex on his wrist. Seeing you standing in the kitchen and slicing tomatoes he sends you his widest smile. 

And you thought you were playing unfair with the yoga. 

He sits down by the bartop, all bare chested and golden. “Anything I can help with?” he asks as you place the tomatoes in the salad bowl. “A change of music perhaps?”

You throw a left over piece of tomato at him and it hits him square in the chest. He just smiles wider, completely unfaced. “Leave my dinner playlist alone, yeah?” You tell him, resisting the urge to give him the finger. 

“So tense” he snickers and leans his head to the side, “I know what could help you relax.”

“Throwing more tomatoes at you? Because we need them in the salad, Thomas.”

He stands up and moves around the kitchen island until he’s behind you, careful as not to touch, framing you against the bench with his strong arms on either side of your body. You can smell him, fresh out of the shower, feel the warm radiate from his body; it is as he’s already holding you. He’s so close, it’s like every cell in your body is reaching out for him. 

And it’s been so long. 

Three months of twisting and turning alone in bed, of only your own hands as company and him on the phone screen as he encourages you; tells you how goddamn gorgeous you look fucking yourself for him. Three months of only seeing him on the phone; not being able to touch him and feel him for yourself, to taste his skin. To just see him spill all over his own hand instead of being there, catching it all with your tongue. 

But it will have to wait a little while longer, because although you might love him, and the way he makes you feel, there’s no way you’re giving in just yet. 

Slowly turning around, carefully as not to touch him, you reach for the bottle. “You can open this, since you wanted to help” you say and hand him the wine, “that would help me relax.”

He smiles, unbothered by his failed attempt at luring you to defeat, and steps back. You stir the pasta sauce, trying not to look at his bare chest as he’s leaning over the kitchen counter, looking for something. Finally he finds the corkscrew and sits back again at the bar table. He gets to work with opening the bottle, his strong veined hand wrapped around the throat of the bottle, as the other inserts the screw. His brow is furrowed in concentration and he’s biting his lip. Around his wrist the Rolex watch reflects in the light. Uncorking the bottle he pours blood red liquid into two wine glasses and hands you one before taking a sip from his own, brown eyes looking at you from over the rim of his glass. 

“Put a fucking shirt on, Thomas” you mutter, going back to chopping vegetables.

The song and dance of torturing each other continues for the following two days. What goes on between you can only be described as a red-hot war. 

“Oh for fuck sake!” Tom’s voice booms over the living room. 

“Too direct?” You ask, eyebrow raised.

“No, no not at all” he answers, voice dripping with sarcasm, “no please, keep deep-throating the banana, it’s incredibly subtle.”

Slowly he wakes, blinking into the dark night. The alarm clock on his bedside table tells him that it’s just after 2 am and for a few long seconds he stares at it.

A rustling of sheets beside him in bed and it hits him. He’s home, home in his own bed with you laying next to him, as it should always be. Except that things aren’t the way it should be. 

Because of that stupid goddamn bet. 

The sheets rustle again and he wonders if you are awake as well. But then he hears it; a soft moan. 

Turning over in bed at lighting speed he stares down at you. “Are you fucking touching yourself?” He asks, heatedly. 

Your answer is another soft moan as you look up at him, pupils blown wide and lips parted. Tearing of the duvet he looks down at your naked body, at you hand, covered in slick, moving over your clit.

Fuck. 

He moves over, leans over you; his legs on either side of yours and his arm on each side of your face, carefully making sure that he isn’t touching you. A slight catch of breath is all the sign you give of having been surprised, your hand keeping it’s gentle pace. 

“What are you thinking about?” He asks, voice low in the quiet room. 

“You” is your breathless reply, “you touching me.”

“Think this is how I would touch you?” He asks, snickering. He’s holding his body over you, looking into your lust-filled eyes. “I’d go much slower at first, tease you. Slowly move around your clit until your hips are bucking up and you're begging me for more”.

He moves his head, so that his lips are almost touching yours. Almost. 

“You’re so good at begging after all” he murmurs against your lips, moving his boxer clad hips so that they almost touch you and you groan, your face telling of vexation and volatile bliss. But you do as he says, follow his instruction with the movement of your hand. 

“Good girl” he whispers softly against your lips. 

“Then I’d slide one fingers inside that wet cunt, still slow; still teasing.” 

You whine, but you do as he says. Slowly you move one finger in and out of yourself, as the other hand is still circling your clit. “Need more” you moan but he just smiles.

“Such a greedy little thing, aren’t you?” He teases with a devilish grin, tilting his head to the side, looking down at you with sparkling eyes. “But your hands are smaller than mine, so maybe you should add another finger.” 

You insert your middle finger as well; and moan. “Faster” you beg, but he shakes his head and so a string of curses fall out your mouth and all he can do is smile at it. 

“That filthy fucking mouth of yours” me mutters. 

“Well if you shove your dick into it instead then this stupid fucking bet will be over and we’ll both get off.”

“You know, I’ve really missed your fantastic sense of humor while I’ve been away” he answers dryly, but with a smile. 

“Tom” you whine. “I need more.”

He wants to kiss you so badly, to press his lips against yours and taste you; to remove his boxers and sink into you in one swift movement until your hoarse and wanton whines turn into satisfied moans, soft and sweet like honey. 

“Go on then, darling” he says, voice huskier than usual in the dark night. “Speed up for me.”

You do, your body hungry for satisfaction, hunting your orgasm with determent, sharp movements. 

“Fuck,” he swears, “fuck you’re soaked.” He looks down at your wet slit, your rapidly moving fingers, your hips bucking up to meet your hand. Looking back into your wild eyes he groans, his mouth still dangerously close to yours.

“The whole room smells of you” he moans, and it’s true. The scent of your arousal mixes with the scent of your perfumed skin and this is the closest he’s been so far to falter; to give in to temptation.

Your head is thrown back against the pillows, throat exposed, soft moans escaping freely. He wants to touch you everywhere, feel the softness of your skin with his rough hands, his wet mouth, his teeth. He’s breathing hard and he hasn’t even been touched, but he feels the want of touching you in his bones.

He wants to wrap his lips around your hardened nipples. To suck, bite, lick and kiss them until you fall over the edge. 

“So fucking beautiful” he breathes out. Even if he had wanted to he wouldn't have been able to look away from you. “But it’s my hand your fucking, remember? Think I’d wouldn’t fuck you harder than that?”

And god, he wish it was his hand you were fucking, wish he could feel you come; hot and wet and pulsing around his fingers. Instead he is left to watch. Watch as the movements of your hand speeds up until fucking yourself with a carnal kind of need, until you fall apart at the seams; luscious bliss spreading over your features, and your tense body relaxes until you soften against the mattress;  loose limbed and starry eyed. 

And he is left to take care of the his erection all on his own.

A thin layer of sweat is covering his chest and his muscles are taut as he forces his arms to carry his weight into another push-up. 

“Thirty-six” he groans out, his voice strained and deep from the physical effort, curls of brown hair falling over his face as he lowers himself to the ground again. “Thirty-seven.”

You couldn’t look away even if you tried, your eyes fixed on the muscles of his back, and the way they move as he moves. 

You feel agitated and frantic and in that moment you want nothing more than to lay down beneath him; look up at him as move above you with swift, powerful moments. It’s beyond reason, the carnal tug inside you as you watch him and it is absolutely maddening that he hasn’t given in yet to his desire; because you know he desires you, have seen it in his dark eyes, always following you around the room, over the last few days. 

But you are not going to be the first one to give in. 

“Forty-two” he moans out, and the sound of his heavy breathing and deep groans vibrate somewhere far inside you.

You’re not. 

You just need a change of tactic, that’s all.

The pub is packed tonight, but the more secluded pool area section is scarce of people. Tom sips on his beer, scrolling through instagram; waiting for you, as the speakers blast out ‘Galway Girl’ for what feels like the hundredth time since he came in. He’s been visiting a friend while you’ve been at work, having decided this morning to meet up at the pub after for a meal and a game of pool. 

A text pops up on the screen, beside your picture. It simply says ‘Look up’. 

He does. And fuck. 

Oh, fuck no. 

Oh, for all that is holy, surely you wouldn’t be that cruel to him.

Not the white shorts.

Not the white shorts you had worn last summer, the ones you know very well turns him on like nothing else. The ones you had worn that time when you had driven down to the beach on bonfire night; the time when you pulled him aside from the rest of the company and he had ended up fucking you against the birch wood tree just some meters away from all your friends, your shorts around your ankles and your nails digging into his back as you tried to bite back you moans.

Surely you wouldn’t be this cruel to him, because he’s pretty sure he’s going to die. He hasn’t had sex in over three months and you show up looking like this  and he’s pretty sure he’s going to die. 

He’s just not sure about whether this is going to be heaven

or hell. 

He watches you as you walk through the pub with long confident strides, the goddamn heels you're wearing extending your legs, and the fabric of the white tank top stretching over your chest. Your lips are painted blood red, as if you are ready for battle.

He’s not the only one in the pub staring at you but you keep your eyes fixed on him, burning into his eyes, as you move across the floor. 

“Honey” you greet him. “Got one of those for me as well?” You nod to the beer in his hand, frozen mid movement to his mouth. 

“Why?” He asks, trying to regain the upper hand. “Feeling thirsty?”

You laugh dryly, looking down at his crotch, where he’s painfully aware a bulge is showing. Instead of commenting on it he hands you the other beer bottle he ordered and watches as you wrap your red lips around the opening, swallowing down. He feels warm all over in the stuffy pub and he pulls at the collar of his t-shirt. 

He reaches for the cue sticks and hands you one. “Alright, darling” he sighs, knowing very well what kind of teasing hell you are about to put him through tonight, “let’s play.”

The playlist has gone from Ed Sheeran songs to Mumford & Sons and the pub is still packed with people, though the pool area remains empty apart from you and Tom. It's warm in there and Tom takes big gulps from his third beer of the night. He can feel sweat forming on his back, his brow, his chest. 

You’re not helping the situation. Although he’s pretty certain that helping is opposite of what you’re trying to do. 

“You’re so fucking annoying” he whines, as he watches you hit the white ball perfectly, resulting in two of your striped balls ending up in the pockets. He’s leaned back against the wall, arms crossed over his chest and mouth in a thin line.

He fucking hates losing. 

“You know what you should do?” You ask, lining up against the table, arched back as you bend over with your cue stick; giving him a full view of your fucking fantastic thighs, “try to fuck it out of me.” You hit another perfect shot and a third ball goes in. You look over your shoulder at him, still bent over the table, and wink.

Standing up straight you turn to him. Swaying your hips to the music you lift the beer bottle to your red lips and you swallow a mouthful. Placing the bottle next to you on the side of the pool table you walk over to him, standing so close you’re almost touching. 

Almost

In fact, you might as well be, for he can smell your perfume, mixing with the scent of your shampoo. Can feel the heat radiate of your warm body. It’s been so long since he’s held you and his entire body is painfully aware of it. 

With your lips just centimeters from his you whisper; voice husky and low, “I know how bad you want me, honey.” You move your face so that you’re almost kissing the stubble on his cheek, mouth nearly pressed against it. 

“You want my hands” you whisper again, looking up at him, your hand hovering right over his erection, carefully as not to touch it, and he nearly bucks out to meet your hand. He’s glad that the area is more secluded, part of the wall hiding the pair of you from view. It feels like there’s just the two of you in the entire world; might as well be for all he cares right now. A blush colours his cheeks as he stares back at you.

 “You want my mouth” you breathe against him, your lips curled into an evil smile. “You want my tongue” and you lick your lips before biting it, eyes sparkling with mischief. 

“You wish I was on my hands and knees right now, so you could fuck my mouth.” you finish. 

His skin feels tight and overheated, but he keeps his tone casual as he replies, “actually I wish you were bent over the table so spank that arse of yours, but sure, I wouldn’t say no to a blowie.”

“What’s stopping you? You think you can hold on forever? You know I’m not going to give in, Tom. You know me. Can you imagine going to sleep tonight? Untouched? Again?” 

There’s no use he thinks as he plunges in for a kiss, pulling you tight against him; eager to touch as much as you as possible with impatient hands. 

He tried to beat the devil at her own game and he lost.

“Think you lost, honey” you say between kisses as he’s pressing you up against the front door. 

“Don’t give a flying fuck love, just keep touching me and I’ll die a happy man.” His voice is breathless and hoarse and his hands are all over you; as if he can’t get enough. Your hand is in his soft hair, holding on, as the other is cupping the bulge in his trousers, stroking him through the fabric as he whimpers in your ear. 

“We should probably get inside,” you whisper. “Unless you want your neighbors to witness me give you a hand job on the front steps.” 

He groans, but steps away from you. His hair is ruffled and his pupils are blown wide, spit from your previous kissing covering his lower lip. You imagine you look just as disheveled. 

“Think you need to learn a lesson in delayed gratification” you tease, not being able to stop yourself. 

His eyes go even darker and he takes a step forward again, cups your chin and looks you straight in the eye in a way that has bolts of excitement shoot up your spine. “Before the night is over” he says in a slow, gruff voice, “I will teach you all there is to know about delayed gratification.”

He digs in his pockets, pulls out his keys and unlocks the front door, guiding you in with a hand on your lower back. 

He feels as if someone has lit a match under his skin. His whole body is screaming with vehement urgency for yours. His hands can’t get enough of you; his lips never want to leave your soft lips again. Your soft little noises are filling his head and he hardly even registers your hands unzipping his jeans; until you’re pulling them, alongside his boxers, off of him in a sharp tugging notion. 

“Filthy girl, I fucking love you” he moans out between kisses as you wrap your soft hand around his hard cock. 

He pulls at your tank top and for a moment your skin separates entirely from his as you step away, so that he can remove the fabric from you. Yanking at the goddamn jeans shorts he pulls them down around your ankles and you step out of them.  Your underwear soon follows suit along with his t-shirt until you both are free of any inconvenient clothing. 

He needs your warm and soft skin pressed against his, needs your soft little moans in his ear as he fucks into you, needs the taste of your sweet skin on his tongue. 

He lifts you up on the bed and soon follows suit. Reaching down he slips a finger between your legs, feels how wet and warm and slick you are and groans loudly against your shoulder. 

Lining up against you, cock in hand he looks at your lust filled eyes. “Next time I’ll go slow, yeah? I’ll take my time.”

Your answer is your hands on his shoulder, pulling him against you and he slips inside you with an ecstatic moan. You moan as well, wrap your legs around his hips. He starts moving, thrusting in and out of you with greedy dragged out jabs. The wet sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room and mixes with your whimpering mewls. 

You are so hot and tight and wet around him and the pleasure is so intense it’s bordering on painful. His face is so close to yours, it is as if you are sharing breaths. 

He wants to punch himself from denying himself this for several days when he already had to go without for months.

“Did you think your hands could stand in for mine while I was away? That it could measure up at all?” He asks you, voice thick with lust. He’s so full of want for you and you’re all soft noise and wandering hands. Your warm breath on his even warmer skin. His lips on your nipples; kissing, sucking, biting. 

You writhe beneath him, unable to lay still as you buck your hips up to meet his; fucking into him. He’s not going to last long but neither is you and holding on is a losing battle. Like he said, next time he will go slower, gentler, softer. Drag it out for an entire night. But you both have too much built up pressure inside you to last now. He feels like a bomb about to go off, sparks of pleasure shooting up his spine, as he fucks into you with even greater force. You’re hot and swollen and hugging onto him so perfectly he feels like he’s going to lose his mind if he doesn’t get to come soon. 

But he knows that you are close. Feels it in your nails, dragging along his back, in the sharp movements of your thrusts, in your laboured breathing against his shoulder. He feels it in the way your cunt squeezes around him.

“I’m coming” you whimper and he wants to cry from the relief as he feels you spasm around him.

“Fuck” you moan out as your breathing calms down, and he’s holding you pressed against his chest. “Haven’t had a decent orgasm in months, I wasn’t prepared for that.”

“You really can’t function without me, can you?” he says with a smug smile and honestly, hadn’t you’ve been so blissed out you probably would have bitten him. 

A/N: I honestly don’t know if any of this made sense. I’m drunk and tired and I’m going to bed. If you read it, please leave your thoughts. 

[sunder-soul]

hii what about Tom Riddle being fucking jealous about reader ?

So I got massively carried away with this one lol, apologies if this isn’t what you were expecting, my imagination went wild!

PART II AVAILABLE! 💖

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.  

Jealousy

Summary: Reader has to tutor an insufferable jock and Tom Riddle starts acting very strangely indeed. Wordcount: 1.8k Content warning: none.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

The Great Hall was bright and lively with morning sun and the chatter of students, spoons clinking against bowls and butter spreading on toast.

“What is he doing?” you whisper to Margot sitting next to you at the table.

“I think he’s attempting to show off,” she giggles back.

You were both watching Austin Varrowe, the Gryffindor Quidditch captain, obnoxiously demonstrate his Beater swing for a series of very bored looking Ravenclaw girls who weren’t paying him any attention in the slightest.

“Slughorn’s making me tutor that idiot,” you grumble.

“No way,” Margot grins, rounding on you.

“Yup,” you sigh, “can you believe it? Two evenings a week for the rest of the term… I think I’ll brain myself with a cauldron by Friday.”

Margot pats your shoulder sympathetically.

That evening, you reluctantly set off for the dungeons to meet Varrowe with your bag slung over your shoulder, but as you round a corridor you very nearly bowl straight into someone coming the opposite direction.

“Riddle,” you say, surprised, “sorry, didn’t see you there.”

Riddle takes a step back and tidily clasping his hands being his back. “You’re out rather late,” he said smoothly. “And in the dungeons, no less. Are you lost? The library is that way.” He nods back down the corridor.

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. Riddle was such a know-it-all. “I’m meeting someone, actually,” you say dismissively, checking your watch. “In fact, I better get going or he’ll think I’m standing him up.”

Riddle looks very briefly surprised, and then a cool look of disapproval settles on his fine features. “I don’t suppose I have to remind you that curfew is in two hours,” he says stiffly, “you wouldn’t be intending on breaking that, would you?”

You snort a laugh and step past him. “Thanks for the reminder,” you say sarcastically, “see you later, Riddle.”

You manage to get away before he can say anything else.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

“Varrowe,” you call, giving your friends a quick wave as you dash to catch up to him in the throng of students making their way to their next class. “Are you free tonight?”

“Oh – right,” Varrowe says, looking dispirited. “Sure. Seven o’clock?”

You nod and lean closer. “Please make sure you actually bring your textbook this time,” you mutter, managing to keep your exasperation off your face. “You do in fact need to read it at least once to pass the class.”

Varrowe grins and reaches out to ruffle your hair. “You’re smart,” he says loudly, “barely understood a thing you said last time.”

“Right,” you say through gritted teeth, trying to tidy your hair. “Well, see you this evening.”

“Sounds good,” Varrowe shrugs, wandering away.

You sigh. Slughorn better appreciate your sacrifice; tutoring Varrowe was the equivalent of torture. You turn on your heel to catch up with your friends, but once again you come face to face with –

“You have got to stop sneaking up on me,” you say dryly, “seriously, Riddle, it’s creepy.”

Riddle’s eyes slide from Varrowe’s retreating form to your face. “Is Varrowe the one you were meeting last week?” he asks smoothly.

The question surprises you. “Yeah, why?” you frown.

“And you’re meeting him again?”

You arch a brow at his decidedly clipped tone. “Yeah but don’t worry, I promise I won’t break curfew, I know that’s of the utmost importance to you –”

“An odd choice,” Riddle interrupts, something uncharacteristically irate in his voice, “Varrowe.”

You stare at him. “…Is he?” you ask pointedly, unable to think of anyone more in need of tutoring. Only yesterday Varrowe had lost his phial of Flobberworm mucus and had asked Slughorn if he could just use some of his own instead. “I think he’s the perfect choice.”

Riddle’s eyes flash. “I should be going,” he says curtly, “see you in class.” He gives you a single, stiff nod and leaves without another glance.

You blink after him, shaking your head in confusion. Riddle was acting very, very strangely.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

“So if you overboil it, it’ll turns green,” Varrowe said slowly, peering at the notes on Veritaserum on the desk between you, “but if you underboil it, it’ll get those weird lumps?”

“Yes,” you say with great relief.

“Is it better to overboil it or underboil it?”

You immediately regret having felt relieved. “It’s better to do neither,” you say flatly.

Varrowe heave a great sigh and carelessly leans back in his chair. “I’m too tired for this,” he complains. “Did I mention that we had an extra Quidditch practice this morning?”

He had. Six times.

You slide your things into your bag and stand. “You’re right, it’s late,” you mutter, “we can pick this up again on Monday.”

Varrowe gleefully stands too and is out the door of the Potions classroom in a heartbeat. “Are you coming to the game next weekend?” he asks you in the corridor outside, unsubtly flexing his shoulder muscles as he pretends to roll them out.

You very nearly roll your eyes. “Sure, I’ll be there.”

“Excellent,” he grins, “I’ve been working on this tag-team move with Procker that’ll really have Slytherin guessing, I’ll have to show you later –”

“Varrowe.”

The voice is crisp and cool, and it doesn’t take a genius to guess who it is.

“Riddle,” Varrowe says, looking disgruntled. “Why are you here?”

“I’m a prefect, if you recall,” Riddle says in a glacial tone, “patrols are part of my responsibilities.”

“How very fortunate indeed that you were patrolling this exact corridor at this exact time,” you say with a hint of sarcasm. “Merlin, imagine if we’d forgotten about curfew.”

Riddle’s dark eyes flash to you, and you impassively hold his gaze. “You should return to your common rooms,” he says delicately, “or I will be forced to give you both detentions.”

“Steady on Riddle,” Varrowe grins, “we’ve got half an hour yet, give us a second to say goodbye.”

Riddle wrenches his eyes off you and fixes Varrowe with a very cold look. “You will go at once,” he says in a dangerously soft tone, “do you understand?”

Varrowe bristles, standing taller and pushing his chest out in a way he clearly thinks is intimidating. Riddle looks utterly unfazed.

Sensing trouble on the horizon, you grab Varrowe’s sleeve and tug him back. “Come on, Varrowe,” you say quickly, “let’s go. You’ve got practice in the morning, right?”

Varrowe glares at Riddle who was yet to move an inch, his expression still cool and blank. “Right,” Varrowe growls, “yeah, let’s go.”

Varrowe turns and stalks off, not noticing that you don’t follow. Instead, you round on Riddle.

“Will you explain what the hell is going on?” you whisper angrily.

“Watch your tongue,” Riddle says sharply.

You glower at him. “So sorry – I mean, will you please explain what the hell is going on?”

His eyes narrow. “It would not be wise to antagonise me,” he says icily.

“Would it not?” you breathe, stepping closer. “What are you going to do, dock me points? Give me detention?”

Riddle’s eyes are dark and hostile, and something works in his jaw as he glares back at you.

“Back off, Riddle,” you snap, “I don’t know what your problem is with me, but seriously, drop it.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he breathes.

“Oh? You always threaten people with detention when they’ve done nothing wrong? I’m sure Slughorn will be overjoyed to hear that his favourite prefect is abusing his power like that,” you hiss, leaning closer.

Riddle visibly grits his teeth with fury on his face. A tense silence falls, and you suddenly realise that the two of you are standing far, far too closely together.

You step back at once, trying to ignore the strange feeling that swells in your stomach. “Goodnight, Riddle,” you mutter, turning to hurry away.

“Why Varrowe?” he says sharply, stopping you in your tracks.

You look over your shoulder at him. Riddle’s hair looks even blacker in the dark corridor, his burning eyes on yours, the flickering light from the torch on the wall beside him throwing shadows down his cheekbones. “What?” you frown. Now was definitely not the time to get distracted by Riddle’s good looks.

“Why Varrowe?” Riddle repeats stiffly. “He’s a simpleton.”

You blink. “Exactly,” you say slowly.

Something hostile flickers on Riddle’s face before he quickly tempers his expression back into composure. “I appear to have misjudged you,” he says coldly, looking away.

“What are you talking about?” you exclaim in exasperation. “Do you not understand how tutoring works? If he wasn’t absolutely thick I wouldn’t have to waste my evenings explaining to him that Cough Potions are for curing coughs and not inducing them.”

Riddle stares at you. The silence drags on.

You sigh impatiently. “I’m going to bed,” you grumble, turning away again.

“Wait,” he says sharply.

You wheel around, annoyed. “What?”

But your frustration is wiped away in an instant because Riddle is once again much too close. So close, in fact, that you can see the shadows his eyelashes are casting down his cheeks and the heat in his eyes as he looks down at you.

“You’re tutoring him?” he asks quietly.

You nod silently, your throat suddenly thick with nerves.

“That’s why you were meeting him.”

You nod again, unable to look away from him.

Riddle hums contemplatively, his expression smooth as his dark eyes roam your face. “Good,” he murmurs.

“Good?” you whisper.

Riddle’s lips curve into a small smirk, his head tilting slightly, and you absolutely do not blush at the sight. “Weren’t you going to bed?” he asks silkily.

“Worried about me breaking curfew, are you?” you say with a flicker of a taunt, trying to ignore your heart pounding quickly in your chest.

Riddle’s smirk grows. “I told you not to antagonise me,” he says smoothly as he steps in even closer, so close that his robes graze against your arms and you can feel warmth radiating from him as he looms over you.

“I don’t know,” you whisper, “seems to be going pretty well for me so far.”

Riddle’s eyes flick between yours, and for a single burning moment the tension is so thick that you can hear your pulse thrumming in your ears, your gaze dropping to his full lips and seeing his do the same to yours – and then just like that, Riddle steps away.

“Goodnight,” he says evenly, “I trust you can get back to your common room without supervision.”

You nod blankly but Riddle is already turning away and disappearing down the dark corridor, melting into the darkness. You stand there a moment frozen in place, your cheeks burning and your heart still racing as the cold air rushes in where his warmth had been brushing up against your skin.

Riddle was acting very, very strangely indeed.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

PART II AVAILABLE! 💖

[ptergwen]

hi val can you maybe write something about the reader being dared to kiss peter/tom/arvin (you choose) since her friends knew that she has a big crush on him, but once she did he seems disinterested after which makes her sad, but what she doesn't know was after she kissed him, he practically runs to his friends freaking out that the girl he's had his eyes on this whole time just kissed him??

kiss and tell

w/c: 1.8k

warnings: like one swear and awkwardness

a/n: yeeee i went with peter! this is adorable :,)

“i can’t!” you scold betty and her annoying smirk. you’re bored at lunch, so liz suggested the three of you play truth or dare. you’d made the mistake of choosing dare. in your defense, betty is the nosiest person in all of midtown, so you thought you were dodging the bullet and guarding your deep dark secrets. how could you have known she’d make you do... this?

“that’s so, like, forward. he’s gonna freak out.” you glance over at peter’s table to see what he’s up to before you possibly scar him. he’s laughing along at a heated conversation ned and mj are having. the way his face lights up, and his eyes crinkle as a smile crosses his features, it gives you butterflies throughout your whole body.

“in a good way,” liz grins her most charming grin at you. it’s not working this time. you roll your eyes up to the ceiling. “i thought you liked him,” betty huffs, gesturing over to peter and keeping her eyes on you. “all you do is talk about how he’s so cute and smart, and his lips look so soft-“ “i never said that!” you look at her with wild eyes. liz bites her lip to hold in a laugh. “the last part, i mean,” you clarify in a murmur.

liz puts a hand on you and pats your shoulder knowingly. “you’ve probably thought it, though. i’ve seen you checking them out.” there have been quite a few times your gaze has landed on peter’s lips, watching them curve while he talks to you about some new science theory he’s excited to share. you end up zoning out and pretending you retained any of what he said. betty puckers her own lips at you.

“you wanna kiss him,” she insists in a sing song voice, resting her chin on your other shoulder. “i’m doing you a favor.” “you’re really not gonna change the dare?” you sigh, your friends leaning on you in support. liz taps your cheek. “so, you don’t wanna kiss him?” “there’s no way,” betty comments from your side. “no, i...” you start, focusing in on peter again.

he meets your eyes across the cafeteria. his smile fades slightly, then a shy one is replacing it, ned dragging him into his and mj’s debate. you turn back to liz and betty.

“i do, but do you think he wants me to?” you ask them both, and they share a you have to be kidding look. “only one way to find out.” liz gives your shoulder a nudge. betty beams at you. “i triple dog dare you now, so you have to.” considering your options, you bounce your leg up and down. you’ll either get the nicest rejection ever from peter or a kiss back. you can handle this.

“ok, i’ll do it,” you decide, betty clapping her hands and squealing. liz throws an arm around your neck. “yay! i love love.” “let’s calm down,” you giggle so she doesn’t get too carried away. you and peter haven’t even established that you like each other. “i’m calm, i’m calm. do you need to borrow chapstick?” she offers, betty simultaneously pulling a tube out of her purse. “or lip gloss?”

you’re appreciating their over involvement now.

“both,” you breathe out, letting them get you ready for your big kiss.

liz and betty send you good luck wishes in a hushed tone while you make your way to peter’s table. mj went to get a snapple, and ned went with her so they could continue whatever argument they’re in. that left peter by himself. it’s almost like this is meant to happen.

“hi,” you greet peter, making him look up at you with raised eyebrows. he notices right away that your lips are shiny, more so than usual. a color that you always seem to bring to his face takes over his cheeks. “hey. you wanna sit?” he gives you a small smile. you return it. “yeah, sure. thanks.” instead of taking the bench across from him like he assumed you would, you find your place next to him.

he doesn’t mind.

“how’s your day been?” you wonder, body turned towards him while he answers. peter scrunches his nose. “kinda busy. i got so much homework in spanish tonight, and i’ve been putting off this essay about...” you do the thing you do every time he goes off on a sort of tangent, watch his lips. lucky for you, that’s the whole point today. “i don’t know. all i have so far is the intro-“

you cut peter off with a kiss. liz and betty cheer to each other the second it happens. peter doesn’t move, only freezes up as you press your glossy lips to his and grab his shoulders. it takes a few seconds for you to realize he’s not kissing back. his arms are stiff at his sides, eyes wide in shock. absolutely humiliated, you pull back, moving as far away as you can.

“fuck, i’m sorry. i should’ve asked you first,” you apologize, voice shaking. you’re already getting to your feet. peter blinks a few times, grounding himself back in the moment. “no, no. it’s okay. i-“ “that was weird, i know. you don’t have to lie or make me feel better.” he furrows his eyebrows, in a way that seems regretful even though you’re the one who messed up. “i’m trying to tell you, y/n. it’s fine. we-“

ned’s voice fills the room, making you snap your head in his direction. him and mj are coming back. you need to get out of here before you embarrass yourself even more.

“i’m gonna go. i’m sorry,” you mumble out, running back to your table, where liz and betty are instantly asking what’s wrong and if you’re alright. peter licks his lips that are now coated in your gloss and clenches his jaw. he’s pissed. not at you, at himself. it’s clear because mj brings attention to it when she sits down.

“what’s up with your face?” she narrows her eyes at him, popping the cap on her snapple. ned elbows peter in his spot next to him. you were just there less than a minute ago. “you okay, dude?” he checks. “no.” peter closes his eyes in frustration. “what’s wrong?” ned kicks mj’s foot under the table so she’ll stop making out with her drink and help him.

“i... y/n kissed me,” peter admits, sounding oddly upset about something everyone knows he’s been hoping would happen. “she what?” ned gawks. “isn’t that a good thing?” mj points out. “you love her.” “like her,” peter corrects and chews the inside of his cheek. “whatever. shouldn’t you want her to kiss you?” she takes another sip of snapple, passing this off to ned.

“yeah...” is all ned says. he awkwardly rubs peter’s back while mj tries not to snort. “that’s not the problem. i didn’t kiss her back, and she took it as me not being into it,” peter shakes his head as he recounts your weird moment. “which i was,” he tells them for the record. ned makes a funny face at him. “so why didn’t you kiss back?” “no shit she ran away,” mj mutters to him. she saw that part.

“because i wasn’t expecting it!” peter frowns at his friends’ reactions and at what he did. “you guys know how much i like y/n. i can’t believe i screwed this up so bad.” mj squints in mock confusion. “i can.” she quickly drops her sarcasm for encouragement after that. “ok, seriously. just go find her and apologize.” “maybe kiss her this time,” ned chimes in.

“if she really likes you, she’ll get it.” mj smiles genuinely, nodding back at your table. ned gives him a push forward. “you got this, dude. come tell us all about it after.” a rush of confidence enters peter from their advice. he’ll fix this. “thanks, guys. here i go.” he shoots up from the table, ned and mj getting back into their debate once he’s out of sight.

betty is hugging you way too tightly when peter gets over there. she goes on about how much peter sucks, overcompensating because she’s the reason you kissed him. you only hum in response. you don’t have the heart to tell her you blame yourself. only liz notices peter come over, so she talks on your behalf. “oh, hey,” she says drily. “hey. can i talk to y/n?” peter gets out, twiddling with his thumbs nervously.

she has to decide if she’d rather go into protective friend mode or let him. from your unenthusiastic responses to betty’s hate rant, she figures you’d like to hear him out.

“come on, betty,” liz takes her arm suddenly, betty trying to pull it back. “what? why?” “i’m gonna buy you ice cream. let’s go.” that’s her cover. peter shoots her a look that says thank you, liz pressing her lips into a line and dragging betty along. betty sees peter standing in front of your table and glares at him, liz walking faster. you don’t get the chance to ask them where they’re going because they leave so fast.

the bench dips down on one side of you, making someone’s prescense known. you’re surprised to find it’s peter. you talk first.

“if you’re gonna apologize, don’t. it was my fault-“ “you never let me finish earlier,” peter interrupts, the hint of a smile on his face. his clammy hand links with one of yours. “what were you gonna say?” you ask quietly, peter threading your fingers together. your heart is racing at the simple touch. “that i like you,” he replies at the same low volume. “and, that i wanted to try again.”

he’s sitting a lot closer to you than you realized. you welcome it, your hands in between you two on the bench. “i like you too... try what again?” you question, although you hope and pray it’s what you think. “kissing,” peter says what you were hoping and praying for. “wasn’t ready the first time.” you’re about to go into cardiac arrest as he rests his forehead on yours, curls brushing your face. a few broken up breaths escape him.

“can i?” he nearly whispers, warm hand still gripping at yours. “yeah,” you agree before your eyes flutter shut. he wastes no time, parting his lips and brushing them against yours gently, you reciprocating. he kisses as sweetly as he is, his free hand on your cheek and fingers careessing your skin. your other hand ends up on the back of his neck. you grin against him, lips detaching momentarily so you can engage him in another kiss.

peter doesn’t hesitate to kiss back this time, nose nudging yours as he moves in more. you tug on some hair at the nape of his neck and laugh into the kiss, reminding him you’re in school. he pulls back with a chuckle, but keeps his forehead on yours and your hands in each other.

“sorry. got too excited,” he laughs out, you leaning into his open palm. “i told you don’t apologize.”

liz and betty joined ned and mj at some point. the four of them are whistling at you and yelling out suggestive jokes. they’re too much. but, to be fair, you owe this all to them.

[fangirl-imagines]

Close Call//Michael Corleone x Reader

A/N: Michael’s wife is the target of an attempted hit. 

Michael stood in front of the couch where you sat, his arms crossed across his chest as he watched you. His gaze was cold and unflinching as he looked down at you. His eyes went from the bruises on your face, to your shaking hands as they wrapped around the glass of wine Tom handed you to settle your nerves, then back to your face. He said nothing as he slipped a cigarette out of his pocket and took out his lighter, taking the first drag without his eyes ever leaving yours as if you were going to disappear if he looked away. 

Tom looked at Michael from where he sat next to you and shook his head. He’d known Michael long enough to know when his friend and boss was barely holding it together. 

“We’re fairly certain we know who was behind this already, but I already have people looking into it just to be sure.” Tom spoke carefully, his hand laid comfortingly on your back. 

Michael shook his head, “I want to know tonight, Tom.” He spoke in a deathly calm voice, pulling his eyes off of you just long enough to narrow his eyes at Tom. 

Tom held back a sigh, “You’ll be the first one to know anything, Michael.” 

Michael took another hit of his cigarette and started pacing again. 

Tom watched him carefully, his worry for his friend evident even as he turned his attention back to you. 

“Y/N, did you see anything this morning? Anything out of the ordinary? Anyone you didn’t recognize hanging around outside?” He asked you in a soft voice. 

You shook your head, taking a sip of your wine with shaking hands. You were sure Tom could feel you shaking against his hand but you couldn’t find it in yourself to be embarrassed. The sound of gunfire was still ringing in your ears. 

“No. No, I was almost to the car when I saw a car coming down the street. Next thing I know they’re shooting. I just jumped behind the car, I didn’t get a good look at any of them.” You touched your bruised cheek gingerly. “I guess I hit the ground pretty quick.”

 Tom nodded thoughtfully. 

Michael closed his eyes. He could still see your bullet riddled car every time he did. He swallowed back the lump in his throat harshly. 

“I don’t believe that they were really trying to kill you.”

Michael’s head whipped around to look at Tom, his normally slick and styled hair beginning to fall in his face messily. 

You too looked at Tom curiously. “Then what else would you call it, Tom?” 

“If this was who I think it was, if they really wanted you dead, you’d be dead right now.” 

“Tom…” Michael growled warningly. 

Tom glanced at Michael but didn’t back down. “This was a message, Michael. A warning. We both know that.” 

“It was received!” Michael shouted back, fire in his eyes as he glared at Tom. 

Out of the corner of his eye he saw you flinch. “I want you to set up a meeting for tomorrow. Whoever did this is going to answer to me, Tom.” 

Tom nodded. He looked back over at you like he might say something but changing his mind. He squeezed your shoulder gently as he climbed to his feet. 

“I’ll take care of it.” 

Tom walked over to Michael, whispering in his friend’s ear something you couldn’t hear but Michael nodded. You downed the last of your wine as Tom let himself out, the click of the door closing echoing in the room. Neither you nor Michael said anything as he sat down on the couch beside you, your legs not quite touching. You watched Michael out of the corner of your eye as he pulled out another cigarette but didn’t light it, rolling it between his fingers. 

“Y/N, you know I’m-” Michael started then stopped, losing his words. “I’m sorry.” He finally sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, his eyes closed tight. 

Your heart clenched, it wasn’t often Michael showed emotion like this, even to you. You placed your hand on his back hesitantly, rubbing small circles around his back gently. 

“It’s not your fault, Michael.” 

“Of course it is!” He straightened up suddenly. 

You tried to draw your hand back at the bite in his voice but his hand grabbed yours before you could pull it into yourself. Gently he squeezed your hand in his. 

“When we got married,” He started, running his thumb over your wedding band and feeling the smooth, cold metal against his skin. “I promised you that I would keep you safe. And when you called me today, all I could think about was-” 

“Apollonia?” You asked softly, already knowing the answer. 

Michael swallowed around the lump in his throat. “You could have been killed today too. And it would have been because of me and because of who I am. I can’t lose you too.” 

“You won’t. You heard Tom, it was just a warning.” You tried to assure as if it wasn’t any big deal that strangers started shooting at you. 

Michael shook his head, turning his head to smile at you with a strained smile. “You’re right. I won’t.” 

You paused, not sure what to say. Instead you leaned forward and pressed your lips against his. Michael kissed you back gently, his hands cupping your face as his kisses became more and more passionate. You winced as his fingers brushed the bruise on your cheek. Michael pulled back from you, his dark eyes wide. 

“I’m fine.” You shook your head. “Just a little sore.” 

Michael sighed, tracing his fingers over your bruise. He tilted his head to press his lips against the mark so gently you almost couldn’t feel it. 

“Lets go to bed.” He said as he climbed to his feet, offering you his hand and led you up the stairs to his bed. 

[hollandsmushroom]

Request: dom!mob!tom trying to get the reader pregnant for fathers day. Ty

ooooh, this is filthy.

Word Count:1,140

Warnings:Smut(more in depth beneath the cut)

Warnings: Penetration, Dom sub relationship vibes, mob au, breeding kink, sir calling, internal orgasm

“Tommy?” you called out into the seemingly empty mansion. Bare feet wandering across the cold marble as you made your way down stairs, hoping that Tom would be in his office, there was something that you needed to talk to him about. He had been putting it off continually and you were fed up, after having once again woken up in an empty bed, the frustration rose in your chest and you decided that today was the day. What better day to finally talk about having kids with your husband than fathers day.

You approached the door to his office going to reach for the doorknob when a hand shot out and grabbed your wrist, ceasing your movements.

“You can’t go in there, boss doesn’t want to be interrupted” a man that you are sure you had seen before but had forgotten the name of hissed at you.

“Don’t touch me” you bit back, tearing your arm from his grasp, your voice was loud, apparently loud enough for Tom to hear to the solid oak door. The door opened revealing a furious looking Tom, anger present in the way that he held himself, shoulders squared and jaw clenched, you were just stuck trying to figure out if he was mad at the man or mad at the interruption, or both.

“What. is. Happening.” Each word was punctuated with a pause.

“Your girl was trying to go in and I stopped her” the man spoke, eyes down cast, not meeting Tom’s gaze, unlike you, your eyes challenging him as your arm was crossed, nursing over the place the guy had gripped you.

“I’ll take it from here” Tom hissed at the man before leaning in to him, lips close to his ear as he muttered “You touch her again and you're dead” The man looked like he was about to shit himself as he shook his head rapidly, backing away from Tom and going to stand at the doorway where he had been stationed before. Tom turned back to you, brown eyes dark, anger dancing in the amber hues.

“What are you doing down here? I thought I told you to stay upstairs” his voice seemed like a debate between dominance and concern, not knowing what attitude to take towards you until he found out why you were here, what was so urgent that you would disobey him.

“Kids, Tom” you said “I’m here to talk about having kids” his face settled.

“You interrupted my meeting to talk about having kids?”

“You keep avoiding me, you are never there when I wake up and always avoid me when I try to bring it up, what is it? Do you not want to have kids with me?” Your voice broke at the end but Tom didn’t care, he was angry, furious that he had made you feel this way but also mad that you thought it was okay to interrupt him.

“Come here” his hand was soft on your arm, pulling you into his office and turning away from you. “The meeting is over, you can contact my associate Harrison with any further questions but something has come up” he informed the people that were in his office, and with those words they began to leave and once the final person left Tom turned back to you.

“Strip” he ordered, making your brows shoot up, surprised at the way the conversation was going.

“What?” you asked, your jaw dropping in shock as he took a step towards you.

“I said Strip” he growled, hands resting on your hips and hitching up our shirt to expose your skin “You want a kid so bad, let me fuck one into you” heis hands on you made heat rush to your core. Center rapidly wettening at the slightest touch, immediately stripping yourself of your clothes, letting the, fall to the floor as Tom back you up against his desk, undoing his belt and pulling his pants down, tugging his cock out from the confines of his pants and teasing it through your folds, ripping a moan from your throat. The noise was quickly silenced as he placed a hand on your mouth,

“You don’t speak unless I prompt you to” he hissed, before thrusting his cock all the way into you. Your teeth sank into your lip as you tried to suppress a moan, choking on the noise as he started going harder. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling his body closer to yours.

“So eager for my seed, aren’t you, Doll?” he bit down harshly on your neck, his dick thrusting in and out of you, the slickness of your arousal easing the stretch of his size. “Do you wanna cum, Love? Do you think you deserve to cum?” he growled into your ear, teeth tracing your lobe as he spoke.

“No,” you whimpered, shaking your head helplessly “I-I don’t deserve to cum, Sir” you whimpered, a smile spreading on his face at your submission. You tapped his shoulder twice, signalling to him that you needed something, his pace calming as he looked at you, allowing you to catch your breath. “I know i don’t deserve to cum, but mutual orgasm increases the chance of conception” you whisper, hoping your words wouldn’t anger him as your slyness and that they would spur him on to making you cum.

“Oh, how convenient for you” he hissed, his thrust once again picking up speed, bringing you closer to an edge that you thought you would only get to feel today, not fully cascade over the edge in a waterfall of pleasure, but the way his balls were slapping against your as and his fingers moving down to your cunt, slipping through the top of your lips and rubbing over your clit.

“Your lucky that I’m trying to fuck a baby into you because if this were any other day I would leave you needy, my cum dripping from your abused cunt and a neediness that not even your fingers could satiate,” his words made your abs clench, your back lifting off of the desk as you neared your high. Your fingers dug into Tom’s shoulders.

“Tommy, I’m close” you whimpered, your walls spasming around him as you felt his tip twitch against your spot.

“I’m close too, love” he moaned, fingers bruising your hips as he pulled you even closer, thrust becoming impossibly faster as you both fell apart together.

Your body tensing as he released deep within you painting your walls with cum as your body tensed, arching up into Tom. Tom pulled out, making a whimpering escape your lips at the loss of fullness.

“You think I was good enough to fuck a baby into you?”

“I think that if we didn’t usually take precautions you would have a long time ago”