#tom ryder smut

[pretty-little-mind33]

mdni for kinktober, thanks my loves 🤍 main masterlists

10/03 - Mirror Sex (dave lizewski)

10/06 - Morning Sex (james potter)

10/07 - Cockwarming (pietro maximoff)

10/14 - Caught Masturbating (alexei vronsky)

10/16 - Innocence Kink (sergei kravinoff)

10/18 - Overstimulation (tom ryder)

10/20 - Sex Pollen (logan howlett)

10/21 - Sex Tape (tangerine)

10/25 - Predator/Prey (sergei kravinoff)

10/26 - Threesome (tangerine)

10/27 - Public Sex (james potter)

10/31 - Humiliation (logan howlett)

[nyxvuxoa-writes]

𝘋𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘛𝘰𝘮 𝘙𝘺𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘞𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘐𝘯𝘤𝘭𝘶𝘥𝘦

Tom Ryder x Fem!Reader

◢ Genre: Headcanons — Suitable For Adults Only

◢ Warnings: 18+ Only please! Mentions of sex, smut, and relationship with F!reader. Also includes mentions of jealousy, narcissism, and famous relationships.

◢ A/N: I am back, doing some warm-up writing. I still have everything in my drafts, and currently have some free time to try and get caught up. Keep an eye out for new content. Gif was made by me, please credit me if you use it. Likes are enjoyed. Reblogs are always greatly appreciated.

Dating a celebrity is never easy. Especially Tom, who right now is one of the most famous action stars in the world.

It'd be a lie to say that it hasn't gone to his head.

The man is narcissistic and not at the same time.

He's got an ego for days.

But he's not the type to gaslight you, at least not all the time.

He's capable of emotions, and yet he won't hesitate to try and cover up a murder with the help of his agent.

He's a man of morally gray standing. He's neither good nor evil, but will put himself first and foremost when his career is on the line.

When you and Tom started dating, it was unexpected.

No one expected it to happen. But he knew what he wanted and he went for it.

There was even a sticky note in his house about asking you out.

That note he didn't forget.

You aren't a celebrity like he is, so this forced you into the spotlight.

The tabloids ran with it, either making you look good or bad. It didn't matter to them.

What mattered was that Tom was dating someone new, and someone who wasn't a co-star.

It's strange being in the spotlight. Maybe a part of you hates it. Maybe a part of you likes it.

But you aren't dating Tom for his money or his fame, not like some people claim to.

You are probably the most down-to-earth person he's dated.

You don't ask him for things, or money. Which caused him to spoil you slightly.

He clings to you, keeping you close when he goes out.

He likes to show you off, even if people are criticizing him for who he's with.

His agent isn't a fan of you and tells him that he should be with someone else who is famous because it will help him.

There has been a time or two that she had almost convinced him to do it.

But when someone was said, it never turned out like he expected.

The arguments are heavy, mostly because that is when his ego comes to blows with you.

When you approach him to fix it, not wanting to fight, he tends to cave to the feelings you show him.

He starts to feel like you understand him past the fame and who he is as a person.

You've come to learn how to deal with his weird quirks, like the sticky notes.

More often than not, you are reminding him about things and trying to keep them cleaned up.

But some of the notes he leaves are utterly ridiculous and you tend to leave those up because they make you laugh.

Then you started to find notes about his feelings for you. Things he wanted to remember to say for later.

When he realized you saw them, all he could do was give you this boyishly charming smile.

Maybe the notes are a good thing.

It becomes a small form of communication between you two.

You have learned to deal with the parties, the drinking, and the drugs.

It may or may not be your scene. But somehow he manages to bring you out of your shell.

You have a good time with him. Letting loose. You always go home together.

The sex is amazing. Hot and heavy, a lot of heavy petting, moaning, and groaning.

He's vocal. Often telling you how he loves your body and how you feel wrapped around his cock.

"Fuck babe. You feel so good."

"You're going to make me cum babe if you keep doing that."

The man has his moments of being vanilla.

But when he gets kinky, he can get weird about it in a good way.

He's always willing to try something new.

But when you get submissive and worship him, he goes crazy.

The guy has a praise kink for days.

When you lean into his ear and start telling him about how you adore him, adore his cock, how good he feels, then he starts to go crazy mentally.

"Say it again babe. Louder."

"I'm gonna make you scream my name."

It makes it hard for him to keep his hands off you.

When he's gone, he thrives off the images and videos you send him.

Phone sex can be a regular when he can't get to you.

But there are times when he would take you wherever he's going.

The man won't hesitate to take you back to his trailer to have his way with you.

You'll make him late to set a time or two, but he doesn't care. He can get away with it for the most part.

He doesn't like other guys touching what is his. Ever.

He's going to make it known to his "friends" that you are off-limits.

He doesn't want them hitting on you.

This will bring out that small bit of insecurity that lingers in his mind.

He'll get jealous if he thinks the wrong thing, or see something that can be taken out of context.

If you two were to break up, Tom wouldn't handle it well.

You'd make him emotional, and the idea of seeing you with another man would frustrate him.

He'd try and get you back because of how you treated him and understood him.

This time, he'd be calling you while laying in the bathtub almost crying.

He might try and date someone else after, but chances are they aren't going to compare to you.

ATJ Taglist: @voxmortuus @earth-elemental18

Some of my tag list people aren't working anymore. If you want to be added for ATJ stuff let me know, and I can update my list.

[tangerinesgf]

Loved your first Tom Ryder fic!!!

For a request I was thinking maybe something where he's supposed shooting a movie and everybody's looking for him trying to find him and he's off somewhere on set having sex with his girlfriend. They get caught and you can decide how it goes from there :) (if you're interested in writing it of course 🥰)

Tom Ryder x FEM!reader

Tags/Warnings: Smut 18+ MDNI, P in V sex, slight dirty talk, fluff, getting caught

A/N: Thank you so much for your request I absolutely loved it!! I hope you love it too! In my mind Tom Ryder is a total sub, so I tried to play with that a little bit, but I have more idea in that regard.

It was no unusual occurrence to find Tom Ryder missing from set. In fact it had become quite predictable and most of all frustrating for the people who were working with him. He is the movie star after all, the main character, without him there is no movie. 

Usually he would be found either daydrinking or in his trailer with the excuse of not being in the right mood to film the scenes that day. He had to be in the right headspace to portray his character. You see Tom Ryder was the world famous actor, in his eyes everyone had to accomodate to him and not the other way around.

Yet this time it was neither one of those things.

So while everyone was worrying about the disappearing daylight on set, that was the last thing on Tom’s mind while pushing you up against one of the huge fake rocks on set. It was one of the few days where you could actually be with him on set and he’d be damned if he was gonna let that go to waste. 

The moment he spotted you behind the camera, watching him do a scene he excused himself from set, earning him eye rolls from all the other cast and crew members. 

The two of you disappeard and haven't returned since.

“Fuck baby, it’s been so long..” He mutters in between kissing you from your lips to your neck, his hands roaming all over your body. He needs you badly. 

Tom hadn’t even bothered to put on something else, so here he was in his full on space cowboy attire including the hat, pressed against you. It almost felt like you were sneaking around like a bunch of horny teenagers in high school. 

“It’s only been a week, Tom.” You chuckle softly, your voice already a bit breathless from his touch. 

“Mhm.. too long.” He trails kissing down from your neck to your cleavage. His hand move down and start playing with your skirt, making his intentions quite clear to you. “I need you, baby.. please..”

How could you ever deny him when he looks up at you with those sad puppy eyes, begging you to let him fuck you into next week. You nod slowly and pull him in for a deep kiss. 

He kisses you like a starving man, exploring every inch of your mouth with his tongue. Meanwhile Tom’s hands hastily try to undo his belt, at this point he doesn’t care if he rips his entire costume. They probably have another 10 lined up for him anyway. All he can think about is being inside you right now, the sweet sounds you make when he fucks you, your hands in his hair, you lips on his.. 

Fuck, fuck. 

“Shit..” The actor mutters as he keeps struggling with his belt until he finally manages to unbuckle it. He quickly shoves his pants down his legs along with his underwear revealing his hard cock, the tip already red and leaking pre-cum. You practically groan at the sight of him, yes it had only been a week but you couldn’t wait to feel him inside you again. 

He lifts your skirt up and pulls your panties down, a grin appears on his face as he notices you’re already dripping for him. He licks his finger and teasingly runs it along your wet and sensitive folds. “God baby.. you’re so wet.”

You whine softly, aching for any kind of friction between your legs. Your eyes are locked on his as he licks your juices off his finger, if you weren’t so good at composing yourself you’d be drooling over him right now. 

“Ready?” You nod in return. He smiles at your consent and slowly pushes his throbbing cock inside you, dragging a long moan from your throat. He lets out a string of curses as he pushes himself in all the way in, everytime with you felt just like the first and he never got tired of it. 

Once he’s all the way inside he let’s you adjust to his size for a moment, kissing you from your neck down to your collarbone. “Doing so well f’me, baby..” He mutters.

When you give him the sign he slowly pulls out before slamming his cock right back into you, hitting you in just the right spot. Your hands move up to his dirty blonde hair, fisting your hand in it. “Fuck- Tom just like that..”

You get completely lost in the pleasure between the two of you. His hips rutting into you while he sucks marks onto your neck, dragging moan after moan from you.

“Missed you.. and your pretty little cunt.” He groans loudly as you clench around him. You’re so caught up in each other that you don’t even notice Gail coming around the corner until it’s too late. 

“Tom! We’ve been looking everywhere for ya!” She doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest about the position she’s found you both in, because let’s be honest she’s caught him do worse things. 

“Jesus fuck-” Both of you startle and Tom curses as he quickly uses his long coat to cover you both up. He stares at her with a look of annoyance and disbelieve, although he should have known that his producer is not one for playing around. “What the fuck Gail?”

“We’re losing dayligt, Ryder. Chop chop.” Gail ushers and crosses her arms as she stares you both down. 

“Fine.. fucking hell.. could you just- just turn around.” Gail rolls her eyes, but eventually turns around to give you both whatever privacy you got left. 

“You gotta talk boundaries with her, Tom. I swear to god.” You tell him in an ushered voice, so Gail can’t hear anything. He sighs and reluctantly pulls out of you, making you let out a soft whine. “I know, baby.. I’m sorry. Shoulda taken proper care of you, hm? I’m gonna make it up to you I promise, love.” 

He neatly fixes your panties and skirt back in place before pulling his own pants back up. Both of you are left disappointed and wanting, but Tom had a job to do. Unfortunately. 

“Meet me at the loft tonight?” He’s giving you those puppy eyes again. God you love him. 

You nod and receive a very happy Tom Ryder in return. He kisses your forehead softly before walking towards Gail with that usual annoyed look on his face.

“I told you not to interrupt me when i’m ‘busy’.” You can hear Tom whisper to Gail. 

“And I told you I wouldn't, but you were still wearing your damn mircophone, you idiot.” She tells him return and Tom just shrugs, seemingly not bothered by the fact that the entire cast and crew just hear him fuck his girlfriend. But then again you’ve never seen him embarrassed or ashamed of anything and you’ve seen things. You don’t hear anything else before they disappear out of view.  

Guess you’d have to finish this later tonight. 

A/N: Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed it. If you have any Tom Ryder requests pleasse don't hesitate to leave me a message, Reblogs and comments are so much appreciated you have no idea. Love you guys <3

Taglist: @earth-elemental18 (lemme know if you wanna be added or removed)

[voxmortuus]

May I request #3 ☆ { overstimulating } them til they’re begging with Tom Ryder?

⇘ PAIRING:⇙ Tom Ryder x F!Reader ⇘ UNIVERSE:⇙ The Fall Guy ⇘ WORD COUNT:⇙ 466 ⇘ TRIGGER WARNINGS:⇙ Appealing to Tom's Massive Ego | Clitoral stimulation | Overstimulation | Begging | PLEASE TELL ME IF I FORGOT ANYTHING!!! I want to make sure readers are fully aware of what they are getting themselves into when they read this… ⇘ NOTES:⇙ Sorry if this is total ass... but I hope this brings you some joy. Prompt from this list. ⇘ DIVIDER CREDIT:⇙ @nyxvuxoa ⇘ IMAGE CREDIT:⇙ @nyxvuxoa ⇘ My Master Masterlist ⇙ ⇘ My Aaron Taylor-Johnson Masterlist ⇙

Your breath, you couldn't catch it. It was like the whole world was non-existent, and you felt like you were floating. Your eyes flutter, your body shakes and quakes with such a fever that you feel beads of sweat forming at your brow and across your hairline. Clenching at the arms of the chair as he hovers over you, feeling your breath grace his skin. This sensation of static kisses the surface of your flesh, unable to make sense of much, it all becomes so overwhelming.

Pressing your legs against him as he keeps them open, working your swollen bud, you let out a shaking scream, your whole body feels so overwhelmed with pleasure you're unsure what to do with it. You can't close your legs, you can't move, you're just shaking. You can't find your words, each time you try to speak, it's nothing but breathy gasps.

Looking over you, he chuckles softly, kissing the corner of your lips as you press them together, whimpering. Your eyes search his face as you grab his arms, gripping tightly. Shaking your head, you still can't find your words. Your eyes flutter as you continue to shake your head.

"You're gonna need to use those words, Babe, I can't understand what you're tellin' me." Tom smirked.

You continue to shake your head, your breathing heavy and breathy. You can't find what you're trying to say, you press your hips up as you press your head back against the chair.

"If you can't find your words, I'm just gonna keep goin'."

Taking in a gasp, finally finding the free brain moment to form your words.

"Please -- Please stop!" you plead, though on the cusp of your finish, you need a moment to breathe.

Blinking twice, he looks over you, his fingers slow just a bit, but didn't quite stop.

"No, I think I'm going to make you beg for it." He smirked.

You weren't using your safe word, so he knew he was still okay to keep going. Groaning you shook your head again, biting your lip, your nails pressed into his arms a bit as you attempted to wiggle away, but unrelentingly his fingers kept working you.

"Tom. Please, please stop, I need a moment. Please." you whimper.

"You can do better than that, come on, beg for it." he groaned against your lips.

"My God, My Sir, My Master, please, please stop, I need a moment. Please, I beg of you, stop for a moment." you plead, appealing to that ego of his.

After a few brief moments of thought, he stopped for a moment but kept his hand there, covering your wet core. He searches your face and smiles a moment.

"When you're ready, let me know. We'll keep goin." he smirked and kissed you softly.

[dirty-little-mind33]

Tom Ryder is a star, an A-lister and terribly needy partner. He'll whine when you ignore him and drape himself over you until you pay attention to him. Being a big star is super stressful, y'know? Let him use you as a pillow, pet his hair while he complains and don't forget the kisses! Kissing usually escalates into grinding and wandering hands. He can't help it, you're hot! And while Tom thinks of himself as a rough dom in reality, he's more of a service top. Feed his ego (and praise kink) by telling him how amazing he is. Poor boy needs the reassurance. He loves to hear how you sound when he pleases you. He can never get enough of you and hopes you feel the same. -🍒 anon

love the idea of sub leaning Tom Ryder omg!

man just needs some fucking love. he's super insecure about himself and so while he wants everyone around him to think he's some macho dom, really he just needs to smother himself in your breasts and whine as you play with his curls.

he yearns for attention and he's SO whiny.

Tom loves praise as you said. he wants to be told he's doing good and he's a good person boy. and not in the way the people around him "yes man" him, in a sincere way. he knows you always tell him the truth and you truly love him for him.

i love him being a service dom bc yes he would want to bury himself in your thighs, licking at your pussy like it's his last meal on earth as he pleases you. he wants to make you feel good because it makes him feel good (always a little selfish 😭 has to stay character accurate)

Tom feels good because he feels accomplished for pleasing you and making you fall apart underneath him. he loves the sounds you make because they fuel his already huge ego.

[vicky342]

I'm just a girl who wants tangerine x reader smut where when reader finds out he's an assasin she gets turned on. leading to INSANE and i mean INSANELY hot smut.

[cheolism]

BREAK AND RETURN

✰ — brother's-bandmate!minghao x f!reader ✷ — summary: last week minghao did what he thought was best and put an end to your fling. he sees you again before band practice and can't help but give in to his desires. ✰ — wc is approx. 5k ✷ — genre: 90s au, smut, fwb/fucking your brother's friend ✰ — warnings: unprotected sex (wrap it! yk it!), pet names (good girl, angel, etc), jealousy, possessiveness, and lust. backshots, off-screen masturbation, fingering and pussy-licking. lmk if anything else should be added :) ✷ — rating: 18+ ✰ — note: this is a part of @beomcoups's "now that's 90's" svt collab! thank u very much for letting me join the collab! i had fun chatting n interacting with new people ^-^ i hope everyone enjoys the fic!! thank you very much to @wooahaeproductions for reading this over and reassuring me <3 tagging @idyllic-ghost and @onlyhuis bc i think you both wanted tagged but i can't remember, so sorry!!!

here’s the thing: minghao isn’t stupid. 

he knows better. he truly does. he isn’t some idiot stuck at a claw machine at an arcade, doesn’t keep feeding it his money while never getting any closer to winning a prize. minghao knows when to quit something, when to step away. 

that’s why he broke things off with you, after all. he had thought it would be easy. the two of you weren’t in a real relationship. you weren’t like tom cruise and nichole kidman – the two of you were just fucking. no strings attached. 

but of course there were strings attached. you’re the kid sister to his friend and bandmate, josh; at first minghao thought he would be fine keeping it a secret. he didn’t need to take you out on dates and show you off like you were the best thing since bon jovi. the two of you were content in each other’s arms, naked chest against naked chest, legs intertwined as you dozed off. 

minghao, however, wasn’t stupid.

he knew there were strings attached to the both of you. he knew that it was a bad idea, fucking his bandmate’s little sister. every time he kissed your warm mouth, he knew he was betraying josh’s trust. it wasn’t fair of him to to that to josh, and it wasn’t fair of him to put you, josh’s sister, in a position to lie to your own brother. 

so minghao took initiative and broke off the relationship. 

he wasn’t stupid, and he knew the first time he would see you after breaking up with you would be hard. he knew it would be. it’s hard for real couples, for couples that hold hands as they walk down the street and talk about what to name the cat they’re going to adopt. he had imagined it would be hard, to some degree, to see you. the two of you might have steered away from such topics as rings and shared apartments and other things that left the fantasy of forever in your minds, but he knew you. he knew how you sighed after he kissed the space under your ear, he knew how you looked fresh from the shower with your face shining from the heat of the water. he knew how you looked when you concentrated on painting your toes, how you looked when you begged him to see clueless at the theater because josh thought it would be stupid and you didn’t know who else to ask. 

he knew you, and perhaps that was worse than dating you. 

he knew you, and you knew him, and minghao isn’t stupid but he didn’t know that seeing you again would hurt so much. 

you look beautiful. you always do, according to minghao. you’re sitting on that old couch josh and him spent an hour trying to shove into the garage for their band practices. you’re wearing ridiculous clothes, baggy comfy pants and the ugly oversized sweater with the worn collar and checkers and stripes on it. you’re talking to soonyoung, hands waving excitedly as the two of you laugh. your beauty bubbles out with every breath of laughter, seems to radiate in your chest like a little star, and minghao knows that even if winona ryder was in the room with them he would still choose you as the most beautiful. 

you catch sight of minghao. you shoot him a grin, large and inviting, as if he hadn’t made you cry last week. you give him a little wave. “hi, minghao!”

and then you turn back to soonyoung, your knee pressed against his. 

it’s so ridiculous; he’s ridiculous. minghao feels his stomach twist, as if someone was wringing it like a wash cloth after doing dirty dishes. you’re beautiful and radiant, and you spoke two words to minghao before turning to soonyoung, as if minghao wasn’t anyone particularly special. 

he can’t help but stare at you. you lift a hand, and, in a move he recognizes as you flirting because you’ve done it to him when you want him to fuck you, you tuck your hair back behind your ear. you are wearing small pearl stud earrings and immediately minghao recognizes them as the ones he bought for you a year and a half ago, right before the two of you started fucking. 

you tuck your hair back behind your ear and soonyoung watches, his mouth parted a little, and minghao feels like he needs to punch something. 

“funny, isn’t it?” josh says, appearing at minghao’s side. josh runs his tongue over his lip ring, pulling at the sleeves of his plaid jacket. “it looks like soonyoung’s got a crush on my kid sister.”

“yeah,” minghao says, throat tight. he watches as soonyoung edges slightly closer, his thigh now pressed firmly against yours. you don’t move away. minghao wants you to move away, or better yet, slap soonyoung. 

minghao isn’t a violent person, either. he isn’t violent, nor is he jealous. but once he also had thought he was above the lure of lust, was above giving into the craving of needing your body against his, dick stuffed in your pussy and his mouth dominating yours. 

maybe you just had some sort of power over him that no one else did. maybe it’s like that movie practical magic, and you’ve placed a spell on him, bewitching him. 

“i think he’s going to ask her out soon,” josh carries on, as if he’s ignorant to the way minghao is one step from having a crisis. “i saw the drive-in is going to be playing jurassic park. i remember when it first came out and how much she loved seeing it at the theater. it’ll be a good chance for soonyoung to ask her on a date.”

minghao scoffs. “you know he’s scared of that movie. whenever we bring out the vhs he runs.”

josh shrugs. “if he likes her as much as i think he does, i think soonyoung will be fine.”

“and you’re okay with it?” minghao turns to josh, putting his back to you and soonyoung. “you’re totally okay with soonyoung dating your sister?”

josh shrugged, twisting his mouth a little in thought. “well. i think – i think he really likes her, you know? he’s not just gonna fuck her and leave her hanging around until he wants her again.”

minghao’s mouth sours, and he bites back a venomous remark. that’s what his relationship with you was like, wasn’t it? he has no place to try and insert himself between you and soonyoung’s blossoming relationship.

“you know how soonyoung is, though,” minghao says, despite himself. he folds his arms in front of him, drumming his fingers against his bare skin. he sees the little flower tattoo on his ring finger, the one he got after you spent an evening at his apartment drawing flowers into your lisa frank notebook with glitter pens. “he’s flighty. he’s never stayed with a chick longer than a month. what if he breaks her heart?”

josh hums. “i can’t keep her locked away in the house forever, hao. she’s grown. she can make her own decisions. and if that is soonyoung, the same soonyoung who refuses to drive without everyone wearing seatbelts and insists on someone holding his hand as he gets a tattoo, then i’m fine with that.”

minghao huffs. he walks away from josh, knowing that josh is right. you are grown and can make your own decisions. for a year and a half, that was minghao. you chose to go to his apartment, chose to get on your knees and offer your mouth. you chose to lay by his side, fingers gently tracing the vine tattoo that climbed up his left arm as minghao murmured about the future. for a year and a half you chose minghao, until he took that choice away from you. 

and now you were sitting at soonyoung’s side on an old, musty couch, laughing at some stupid joke. 

minghao grabbed his bass off of its stand, bringing the strap up around his neck. his fingers find the strings naturally, absentmindedly plucking out the beginning of u2’s “one”. on the body of his bass, down towards the bridge, is a strawberry shortcake sticker that you had gingerly pressed onto his instrument. 

josh joins minghao, calling back to soonyoung. jihoon and vernon come through the door leading to the kitchen, each of them holding a jolt cola. 

“finally,” minghao sighs, glaring at the two other men. “come on. practice started ten minutes ago.”

soonyoung stands from the couch, still talking to you. you’re looking up at him with a smile, eyes sparkling. 

“kwon soonyoung!” minghao snaps. he stops playing the bass, narrowing his eyes at soonyoung. “come on! just because you have all day doesn’t mean the rest of us do. why don’t you fucking respect the rest of us and stop flirting and get the fuck over here.”

josh sucks in a breath next to minghao but doesn’t say anything. soonyoung gives you a small wave, and then he’s jogging over. he glances at minghao, murmuring a small apology. 

minghao doesn’t care. he’s watching you. you lean forward, elbows on your knees, tilting your head and eyes on minghao. your sweater – that overly large, horrible sweater – is loose at the collar, and as you lean forward the hole widens and gapes and falls, giving minghao a view of the valley between your tits and the top of your black silk bra, and all that skin above it. 

and he remembers. minghao remembers what it was like to press his mouth to your skin, to hold your tits in his hands and feel their weight and warmth. he remembers being between your warm thighs, remembers how soft your body was and how he always seemed to sink into it. 

you stand. “well, i’ll leave you guys alone so you can practice.”

minghao watches as you leave, the hem of your sweater covering your ass. he remembers you walking from his bed wearing an overly large nirvana shirt, how the hem tapped against your ass as you walked away and to the kitchen. 

and here’s the thing: minghao isn’t stupid. 

he broke things off with you. he isn’t with you anymore, doesn’t have the privilege of getting horny and jealous of you. he doesn’t get to act on his frustrations when he sees you taunting him, when he sees you getting your petty revenge for breaking up with you. you’re stirring something up with soonyoung, and he doesn’t get to veto that, doesn’t get to act as if he has any say in your life. 

after all, he’s the one that made sure he wouldn’t. he’s the one that made sure to draw the line between the two of you. 

practice starts, and minghao is somewhere else entirely. he gets the order of the songs mixed up, starts playing basket case before live forever. he loses all of his picks and has to borrow from vernon, and his mind keeps slipping back to you. 

an hour passes like that, with minghao not really there. he’s between your thighs, face pressed against your pussy; he’s in your arms, heels digging into his back as you urge him to go deeper. he’s everywhere but there, everywhere with you. 

eventually minghao loses another pick, and josh sighs from the front. he goes over to the speaker and dials it off, frowning at everyone. “i’m thinking we should take a break. we’re not doing our best, and everyone seems really scattered right now. let’s break for supper and come back and really put work in.”

the others nod, turning off their instruments or, in jihoon’s case, setting down his drumsticks. “we need to get focused,” jihoon agrees, serious. “we’re not going to keep maintaining gigs if we’re fucking around like this. we need to be serious about what we’re doing. we need to be bringing our everything to every practice. none of this bullshit.” 

josh nods, setting his guitar back in its case. his case, just like minghao’s, is decorated with stickers you’ve slapped on. besides strawberry shortcake there’s lisa frank, rugrats, pokemon. there’s squiggly lines and smiley faces and flowers, all the signs pointing to you. 

“honestly,” joshua says, voice grave, “if, by some fucking miracle, the black rose calls back and says they want us to perform for them, i’ll have to turn them down.”

soonyoung protests, brow furrowed. “come on! this is just one practice we’ve fucked up. it’s not like we’re always fucking around. let’s just take a break, clear our heads, and come back at it. this isn’t something that needs to be repeated or stressed over.”

“i’m thinking about a triple decker pizza,” vernon says, prompted by no one. josh rolls his eyes, grinning, and the band begins to split into groups for food. 

“where you wanna go?” soonyoung asks minghao. he’s blinking innocently at minghao, completely ignorant of the absolute sin going through his mind. he doesn’t know that minghao thought about punching him only an hour ago, doesn’t know he’s been fantasizing about the way your thighs felt under his fingertips while fumbling his fingers over the bass strings. 

“i think i’ll just run home and grab something,” minghao lies, setting his guitar on its stand. soonyoung pouts, nodding. 

minghao lingers behind the others, lying to josh about misplacing his keys and promising to lock the house behind him. you were doing your homework, josh said, and he didn’t want you to be disturbed. 

minghao waits until soonyoung, whom always seems to be the last one to leave, pulls out of the driveway with vernon jamming out in the passenger seat beside him, and then he’s moving. 

he knows the way up to your bedroom as if it was his own. he goes up the carpeted stairs, past the various pictures of you in flouncy dresses and huge bows as babies, past the awkward family photo with you and josh pressed shoulder-to-shoulder, wearing matching sweater vests. he flips on the mickey mouse lightswitch at the top of the staircase, and then he’s opening your bedroom door. 

your room is your sanctuary. the bedroom walls are painted a soft lilac from your childhood, covered in posters from spice girls to nirvana and aerosmith. there’s beanie babies hanging over your mirror, a troll doll on your dresser. your room is littered with comics and cd cases, all of your cds stacked in small piles around the stereo. you’ve got backstreet boys playing from your stereo, and minghao doesn’t even have it in him to make a comment about it. 

meanwhile, you – 

you are on your bed. you’re still wearing that sweater, but that’s all. your blankets are on the floor, pillow stuffed underneath your hips. your entire lower half is bare, one leg extended out and the other bent. the room has the faint, barely-there smell of cunt, and it’s more intoxicating than any drug. 

you meet minghao’s eyes sheepishly, hands smoothing down your thighs. “missed you,” is all you say, fingers slowly dragging across your thighs and towards your center. 

minghao is across the room in record time, pulling off his bomber jacket and throwing it to the ground. “we don’t have a lot of time,” he says, hands pulling up the hem of his shirt to zip down his pants. “the others just went to eat.”

“then you better hurry,” you say, eyes sparkling. you don’t make any comments about him stumbling back into your bed after breaking everything off. instead you spread out your legs, your hands making quick work of your sweater and bra, and minghao falls onto your bed. 

“i’ve prepared,” you say as he settles between your thighs. he can’t help but run his hands over your skin, treasuring the feel of your skin beneath his. this was his favorite place on earth, he realizes; between your thighs, skin to skin. 

“you’ve prepared?” he echos, raising a brow. you nod, biting down on your lip. “been waiting for me, is that it?”

“you or soonyoung,” you say, grinning at him. 

minghao scowls at you, pinching your skin between his fingertips. “shut up,” he commands you. “don’t wanna hear you say his name ever again.”

you laugh at him, reaching out. you lace your fingers around his neck, bringing his face down to yours. you press a quick, close-lipped kiss to his mouth. “sorry,” you say, voice still light and giggly. “couldn’t help it.”

minghao growls, and then he’s lacing his hands in your hair and smashing his mouth back to yours. he pries open your mouth with his tongue, delving in and reclaiming that familiar space. he can’t believe he’s gone over a week without kissing you – it’s a sin, he’s sure, to not kiss you and have you whimpering underneath his touch. it’s a greater sin to not kiss you than it is to be kissing his friend’s little sister, surely. 

he sucks at your bottom lip, moving his hands down your thighs. they’re sticky on the inside, no doubt from when you prepared yourself earlier. when he moves his hand deeper between your thighs it’s wetter, warmer, stickier, and he thinks that this is a heaven of it’s own. you sigh against his mouth, and then he’s ducking his head and moving his body, mouth slipping from yours and skimming down over your chin and along your throat. 

you whine, and he can’t help but chuckle against your skin. he suckles at your throat. you open beneath him so wonderfully, it’s a wonder he was ever able to separate from you at all. 

minghao moves down your body, kissing each and every spot he missed. the top of the valley between your tits, the skin of your shoulder. he mouths at your nipples, slipping his hand up between your legs so his fingers brush at your pussy lips. 

you shiver beneath him. he laps at one of your nipples with his tongue, fingers dipping and sliding your cunt. he doesn’t apply any real pressure,  just content with teasing you and hearing those whines and moans he missed. 

“hao,” you groan out, fingers moving to his hair. you tangle your fingers in his locks, pulling softly. “hao –”

he shushes you, and then his fingers are slipping into your cunt. you moan out, head tipping back. he slips two into your hole, biting down at his lip as your pussy contracts around him, trying to suck his fingers in further, desperate for his touch. 

your cunt is hot around his fingers. it’s not as tight as it would have been if you hadn’t prepared, and it’s easy for him to slide his two fingers down to the base, brushing his fingertips against your core.

“fuck,” he sighs, pressing his face against your stomach. he breathes in, inhaling your scent. you’re so wonderful. you smell wonderful, feel wonderful. he wants to devour you; he can’t imagine why he ever left you. 

he slides his fingers from your cunt, drawing a high whine from your lips. minghao clicks his tongue at you, and then he’s pushing three fingers in. you shudder, cunt clenching so tight around his digits that he can’t move. 

“easy, baby,” he mumbles, his free hand going to your leg. minghao pulls your leg over his shoulder, nose pressing against your thigh. he can feel your skin against his eyelash as his breathes you in here, too. “gotta be easy and good for me.”

you let out a long breath, eyes sliding shut. your cunt loosens around his fingers, and as a reward minghao moves down further between your legs. he presses his face to your cunt, the smell of your pussy surrounding him. 

he knows he should hurry. he knows his band will be back soon. but that doesn’t stop minghao from running his tongue along your clit, doesn’t stop him from tasting this part of you. he missed it so much – missed your cunt, how it smelled and felt and tasted. 

your thighs clench around his head, but he continues. minghao scissors his fingers in you, not focused on stretching you but instead making you feel good. he laps at your lit in broad strokes, and then he’s sucking at your little bean, a loud squeal escaping your lips. 

“quiet!” he hisses, though he feels his lips twitching up at the corner. he does it again and again between licks of his tongue, feeling your body shake beneath his and little sounds of ecstasy escape your lips. 

“hao!” you whine out, fingers digging slightly into his scalp. “gotta – gotta hurry, josh –”

you couldn’t manage a full sentence, high moans and squeals escaping your mouth and interrupting your words. but minghao understood all the same, and he was pressing one last kiss to your pussy before he withdrew. 

he wiped his hand off on the sheets, and then he was pushing his pants and boxers down to his knees. he fisted his shirt with one hand, raising it and keep it away from your soaking cunt as he moved close. 

you plant your feet on the bed, tilting your hips up for him. you’re so good, he thinks. you’re perfect. and you’re his. 

minghao pressed the head of his cock against your cunt, watching as your entire body seemed to freeze in anticipation. you were so ready for him, so eager. you were biting down at your lip, eyes large and watching, and minghao couldn’t even pretend he wasn’t feeling the same way. 

he crowded down over you, releasing his shirt and moving his hand to cup your face. minghao rolled his tongue into your mouth, the noises of your wet mouths meeting making his cock throb with anger.

he fucked into your cunt, a deep groan escaping you. your pussy was tight, despite preparation, but warm and wet and minghao slowly slid deeper and deeper. your body took his cock easily, as it always had, and he knew that the two of you were meant for each other. 

“hao,” you moan out, lashes fluttering. you speak against his mouth, breath hot. “feels good, hao. want it. missed you so much, hao.”

“i know, baby,” he mumbles, hand sinking into your hair. he slides until his cock is buried as far as it can go within you, your pussy clamping down on his cock. he wanted to move, wanted to immediately begin fucking you. instead he held back, hand twisting in your hair. “i missed you too.”

you bite at your lip, and then you’re tightening your legs around his waist. minghao takes this as permission, and he begins drawing his hips back. the slide of his dick against your walls feels so good, feels perfect, all slick warmth that makes his toes curl and eyes flutter. 

he can’t believe he left you. he can’t believe he ended this. he’s so fucking stupid – 

minghao fucks back into your cunt, and it feels like coming home. he begins setting a slow, deep rhythm that makes you arch up around him, mouth wide and eyes pinched shut. he just looks at you, takes in the shape of your mouth and your lashes, just looks and adores you. 

his hand moves from your hair to your ear, and he traces the shell of your ear as he grinds into you. he follows the curve, adoring. he thumbs at your earlobe, just touching you, when he touches that pearl earring. 

and minghao thinks back. he thinks back to how you had tucked your hair behind your ear for soonyoung, how you had acted all cute and coy for him. how you had taunted minghao. 

his hips slow to a stop, and you whine for him. for a moment he just focuses on your earrings, staring. 

“you’re such a bad girl,” he growls out, and then he’s slamming back into your pussy, the sound of skin hitting skin loud. you cry out, startled, and then he’s setting a punishing, brutal pace. 

“you’re so bad,” he hisses, hand moving down to your throat. he doesn’t choke you, just places his hand against your throat. “teasing me like that with soonyoung. so fucking bad. wanted me to get jealous, didn’t you?”

you whimper, eyes rolling back as he fucks you. each thrust into your cunt is wet and loud, and he fucks you knowing that you’ll feel the ache hours later. 

“wanted me jealous of kwon soonyoung,” minghao murmurs, and he’s ducking his head to bite at your neck. you cry out, cunt tightening around his dick. he bites and licks and sucks, marking your neck as his. 

because you are his. he was a fool to think otherwise. you’re his and he’s yours, and he’ll show kwon soonyoung. 

minghao pulls out – you whine – and he flips you around. minghao moves to his knees, pulling you up and back so you’re on all fours. he enters you with a rough thrust, and then he’s resuming his hard pace, chasing out each sting of skin slapping skin, seeking that pain-pleasure. 

“you’re mine,” he says, hands tight around your hips. he watches your ass jiggle with each thrust, some animalistic urge to take coming over him. “you’re mine, angel. fucking mine and no one else’s. got it?”

you nod against your pillows, arching your back and pushing back to him. you fuck back onto him, meeting each thrust, and minghao can’t help but feel satisfied. 

as if you’d ever do this for kwon soonyoung. as if you’d ever let him fuck you like this, as if you’d ever give yourself over to kwon soonyoung as eagerly as you do minghao.

“you gotta cum,” minghao commands, slapping at your ass. you cry out, fingers twisting in the sheets. “gotta cum around my cock, baby. milk me.”

he reaches down, grabbing his shirt and pushing it up out of the way. his fingers slip into your cunt, fluttering around where the two of you are connected to grind down on the gummy area surrounding your clit. you whine, and only a couple of thrusts later you’re tightening around his dick. 

“that’s it,” minghao says, biting down on his lip. “gush around my dick, angel. come on, cum for me.”

your moans rise in pitch as you cum, and he fucks you through it. he fucks into your pussy as it quivers, fluttering around his dick. once you’re finished, whining from oversensitivity, minghao pulls out of your pussy – your warm, tight, delightful pussy – and fucks into his hand until he’s shooting out warm stripes of cum, painting your back white. he feels fuckin amazing, adrenaline and lust and something he can’t quite name rushing through his veins. 

he pants, watching as his cum taints your skin. you’re so beautiful like this, stained with him. he says as much, rubbing his hand over your ass and back. 

a car honks from the street. minghao curses, and then he’s flinging himself off of the bed. he grabs his bomber jacket, hesitates, and then quickly wipes himself down. 

“i’ll wash it,” you promise, and he ducks down to press a hot, open-mouthed kiss to your mouth. 

“good girl,” he murmurs, moving to press a kiss to your temple. “such a good girl for me.”

he darts for the bathroom after leaving your bedroom, flicking on the goofy lightswitch. he looks in the mirror. he looks – well, he looks like he just spent the last half hour fucking someone. 

but not just anyone, he thinks, grabbing his shirt and flapping it to try and get some fresh air against his skin. he spent the last half hour fucking you. 

vernon looks at him weirdly as he hands minghao a few slices of pizza. “been busy?”

minghao shrugs, pressing his hair back from his face. “went jogging a bit to try and clear my mind of all it’s shit. need to bring everything to practice.”

vernon looks like he doesn’t believe minghao, but vernon, also, doesn’t care. so minghao watches as his friend grabs a soda from the fridge. “cool,” is all he says, and then vernon begins slurping at his drink. 

soonyoung enters the room with his own pizza, setting it on the counter. “i made sure to get some you like,” he says to minghao. 

minghao feels, slightly, like he should feel guilty towards soonyoung. soonyoung, after all, has a crush on you. and minghao just fucked soonyoung’s crush. 

then again, minghao thinks, it’s soonyoung’s fault for getting a crush on you when you spend every other day getting your brains fucked out by minghao. 

joshua enters his house with a large grin, holding a plastic cup in one hand. “you’ll never fucking guess who called.”

“president clinton,” soonyoung says, raising a slice of pepperoni pizza to his mouth. “wait. better yet. monica lewinsky.”

“no,” josh says, “cut it out. i’m talking about the fucking black rose club! they called! and they want us for next thursday!”

“well,” minghao says, a grin taking over his face. “it isn’t a friday or saturday performance, so the club won’t be too busy.”

“but it gets our name out there,” josh agreed, clapping vernon on the back. he looks so sincerely happy, lip ring glinting in the artificial light of the kitchen. “we’re getting on the map.”

minghao raises vernon’s soda in salute towards josh before drinking it and handing it back to vernon. “things are looking up,” minghao says.

minghao isn’t stupid. he knows they’ll need to work their asses off for the next week in preparation of playing at the club. he knows this is only one step on the mountain of success, only one step towards their goal line. he knows he’ll need to talk to you, sincerely. he knows he’ll need to apologize, knows he needs to explain everything. 

yes; minghao isn’t stupid. 

but, he thinks, watching as you come down the stairs, fresh from a shower, he is awfully lucky. 

[sehnsuchts-trunken]

Save a Horse, Ride a (Space) Cowboy

tom ryder x reader 2.2k words

summary: Tom in his space cowboy outfit really does something to you. Something that makes you forget about everything else.

tw! almost smut. really basically smut.

(THE PICTURE HAS BEEN UPGRADED YESSSS!!!!! thank you all for bearing with me <3)

masterlist

It's hot. It's unbearably fucking hot. You're sweaty, your shirt is sticking to your back, your sun hat seems to have no effect at all anymore and that Tom is running around right in front of your face in that gods damned space cowboy outfit is not helping at fucking all to cool you down.

Fucking hell.

It's genuinely not funny anymore.

Tom himself had you rubbing your thighs together more than often enough, but with that fucking cowboy hat on too now? Holy shit.

The only good thing about the desert heat is that you can blame the sweaty stickiness you're feeling on the temperature, the sun and the sand. Maybe not how you've soaked through your underwear, but... It's a start, at least. It's probably why Tom hasn't subjected you to one of his scrutinising stares yet - one of those with raised eyebrows and his whole attention focused on you.

You're restless because of the sand. Sweaty because of the sun. Avoiding his gaze because you're so uncomfortable in this blazing hot weather.

...Yeah.

"One more take and we're done", Jody shouts. You can hardly bite back a groan. Wonderful. One more time you'll have to watch Tom run around in that fucking outfit. At this point, it's close to torture. A part of you wants to just dash back to the trailer and take a very, very, very cold shower.

But you can't, this is your job, so you close your lips around the straw sticking out of your water bottle and watch. Watch Tom in that goddamn cowboy hat save his alien princess.

"You're drooling", Venti whispers, startling you so badly you flinch away from her. God, she has a fucking talent for appearing in places she shouldn't be.

"Fuck off", you mutter, your eyes clinging right back to Tom as he wraps his arms around his co-star. Oh, you'd very much like to switch places with her right now - even in this boiling desert hell.

"You know, technically, he's your boss", Venti goes on, entirely undeterred by your not-so workplace friendly language.

"Technically, he's my boyfriend", you bite right back at her, trying hard not to get weak in the knees as the camera zooms in closely on Tom's face, all big eyes and chiseled features appearing on the display next to you. He's fucking marvellous, goddamn him.

You still don't know just how he's your boyfriend. Venti's right - technically, he's your boss. You'd applied as his assistant one day and now here you are, dating the most famous action star of the moment. And he really does have it all: the face, the fame, the green. You're not quite sure he's even real, to be completely honest. A tiny part of you is constantly dreading that when you open your eyes in the morning, it'll turn out he's nothing but a fever dream after all. Or a hallucination. Maybe you're crazy.

"Alright, we got it!", Jody shouts, pulls you from your thoughts - from the way you'd been ogling him - and drags you back to reality. You hadn't even realised you'd started chewing on your lip. "Great shot, really, well done, we're gonna take a break before we shoot the next scene!"

The word break echoes in your mind like a fucking hallelujah. With a start, you rush towards Tom, almost stumbling over your own two feet as you grab his water bottle and hold it out for him.

"Here", you breathe, hoping, praying you don't look as debauched as you feel. Then again, you've sweated through the few layers you're wearing, so you probably do.

"Thanks, love", he smiles, reaches for the bottle and takes a sip. Then he looks you down. And up. And down. And up again. And your hoping, your praying crumbles right down to nothing, because he gives you that very stare you'd been dreading, the one that shoots like x-rays through your body and lays you bare for him. "You feeling good? You look hot."

Fuck, you are hot. Just not because of the blaring sun.

"I'm fine", you lie, even though you can feel your cheeks warm further. Just watching him close up on a screen is already enough to get you wet, but to have him this close up? That's even worse. "Just the temperature, I guess."

You shrug for good measure, but he still doesn't seem all that convinced. He eyes you once more, trailing his gaze down your body, then up again. It's hard to keep upright at this point. God, that outfit he's wearing really does something to you.

"Do you want to eat?", you blurt out, anything to get him to stop scrutinizing you. And to actually do your job. "I could get something from the buffet, take it to the trailer or-"

"I could eat", he interrupts, the corners of his lips tugging up. His sudden grin distracts you. Mindlessly, you nod along.

"Sure, I'll find something you like", you mutter, ready to turn and plunder the buffet table when his hand closes around your arm. Your heels all but dig into the sand below. He really has too much of an effect on you. You could easily slip out of his grip if you wanted, and yet you're frozen in place.

"You know what I'd like right now, baby?", he asks, his voice barely above a whisper as he takes a step closer. Fuck, he's so handsome. "You."

Barely three minutes later, he's got you pressed against the inside of the trailer door, cold metal against scorching skin as you try to catch your breath. You're panting, cheeks surely flashing red, and you'd like to blame that on the sun, on the sand, on the desert - but it's him, it's him, only him. It's him and that goddamn space cowboy outfit they'd put him in.

"Tom", you breathe, your fingers cramped around the collar of his shirt, clenched so tightly that your knuckles have turned white. He's real, he must be. You just can't quite figure out how.

"You good?", he asks, his voice deeper and a little breathy around the edges.

"No", you chuckle truthfully, your fingertips dipping beneath his collar and brushing over his skin instead. Your eyes drag right after them, drinking in the bit of bare chest his costume exposes. And that fucking golden necklace, just dangling from his neck like it's not driving you fucking insane.

"Still because of the heat, baby?", he asks, grinning widely when your eyes flicker back up at his face. His tone borders on mocking. Goddamn.

You should have known.

You should have known that he knows.

Because of course he knows. Of course he'd realised that you'd been fidgety and hot and bothered for entirely different reasons than the rest of the crew. Not because of the sun and sand and desert, but because of him. Because of him and that outfit.

"No", you admit quietly, your eyes dropping back down to his necklace as your fingers work open the first buckle of his vest. There's no way you could possibly lie to him when he's got you this close. "Not because of the heat."

It's honestly a miracle that you can even talk while you're undoing his clothes.

"Oh?", he asks, his hands tightening on your waist as you open his vest and rest your palms against his button-up for just a moment. "Because of what, then?"

You bite down on your lip to keep your grin at bay, even as his thumbs sneak below the hem of your shirt. His fingers graze your skin and, as if he hadn't already done enough to you, shoot sparks right down to your core.

"You", you mutter truthfully, drag your palms up to his collar again and begin loosening the buttons of his shirt. You want your hands on him. You want to finally touch him. You're basically melting for him, melting into him, and you want to get that shirt open now. "And this fucking costume. Space cowboy, who had that idea, anyway?"

Tom chuckles at your sudden honesty.

"Jody", he says, all matter-of-factly as you scoff at him and pop open one button after the other. By now, you can feel yourself dripping down your thighs. You're not sure whether it's sweat or not - you're just sure that you need to touch him and him to touch you. Now. Or you'll end up a puddle on the floor.

"Fucking cheers to Jody", you mutter, tearing his shirt open, steadying your palms against his bare, so very, very bare skin and taking a deep, deep breath in. Fuck. He's gorgeous. Drop-dead fucking gorgeous. All abs and hard muscles, warm and sweaty against your fingertips, so enticing, so inviting. You run your hands up, then down his torso, slowly enough to take in every inch you can touch. You could do this for the rest of your life.

"Didn't think you'd be so into it, baby", he murmurs, his fingers dragging fully beneath your shirt now and trailing over your stomach. Usually, he's got you naked and begging within seconds - but he always does like it just a little too much when you marvel at him this openly. It's an ego boost he doesn't need.

"Fuck, I'm into you", you whisper, your eyes catching on his necklace again. O-fucking-kay. So it's definitely not just him. As if in reflex, your finger hooks into the chain dangling from his neck. God, you've been waiting to do that ever since you'd seen him in this damned outfit for the first time. "But the cowboy hat has its effect."

Tom grins and grabs at your waist, pushes you firmly against the door and fuck, he's hard, he's-

"Just the hat?", he asks as your finger tightens around his necklace, as you tug. Tug him right into you, tug him so close that you can feel his breath on your lips.

"No", you smile, your eyes fluttering shut. "Not just the hat."

And then you pull him in and kiss him.

He's pressed against you, his shirt open, his hands on your waist, and he's all but crowding you against the door. His beard scratches against your skin in such a heavenly way you can hardly keep from pushing back against him. He really shouldn't be such a good kisser, not when he's also that good-looking, that talented, that famous, and that rich. He's truly got it all. And you can't do anything but melt into his arms, melt against his body, melt... quite literally.

"Tom", you moan, barely above a breath as you pull at his necklace and drag your free hand down, down, down to his waistband. Your fingertips catch on the button of his pants. "Fuck me."

He's just pulling his arms away from your waist and grabbing for your thighs, grabbing to wrap your legs around him when there's a sharp knock at the trailer door. You startle so badly you flinch and so does he, stumbling further into the trailer, knocking against each other, tripping over each other, steadying yourselves in just the right moment before the door opens.

Gail.

Standing in the bright light of the sun, her sunglasses high on her nose, her expression nothing short of frantic, one hand on the doorknob and the other curled like she's trying to strangle the fucking air.

"Ryder", she seethes, then pauses and takes a deep breath. You're so shocked you can't do anything but stare at her like a deer caught in headlights. "Take off your fucking mic before you hook up with your girlfriend."

Tom scrambles to pull out the tiny, fuzzy microphone stuck to his vest. He holds it in his hands for one, two seconds, his eyes wide as he stares at it - then he chucks it at Gail, who doesn't even make a move to catch it before it lands on the ground.

Embarassment shoots through your veins, glues you into spot and if you hadn't been flushed, sweaty and trembling already, you surely would be now.

Holy fucking shit.

Tom had been wearing his mic.

He'd been wearing his fucking mic during all of this.

The entire fucking crew had listened in on you and him making out.

Gail turns around and lets the door fall shut, one deafening thump of metal against metal that tears you from your spiralling mind and hurls you straight back to reality.

"Tom", you gasp, balling your hand into a fist and hitting him right in the chest with it. "You didn't take off your fucking mic?"

He doesn't even have the decency to look apologetic as he shrugs. No, there's already a grin licking at his lips again, a grin that tells you he's neither embarrassed nor going to remember taking his mic off the next time.

"I had so much more important things to think about", he chuckles, wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you close again.

He's still half-naked.

You feel your breath hitch.

"Tom", you mutter, your fist resting against his chest. He can't be fucking serious. He cannot be fucking serious. You're burning with embarrassment, petrified with shock - and he's already pulling you in again, his palms rubbing into your back. "You horny bastard."

He's already pressed his lips to yours before you can finish, and despite yourself, you have to grin.

"Promise you'll take your mic off next time", you mumble into him, then you're throwing your arms around his neck and pushing into him.

He's a lost cause. You know that. But it never hurts to try.

[gilgaladswife]

I have two writing in progress: a smut with Sergei and a jealous Tom Ryder which one do I post first?

[fireflyinks]

karaoke and cowboy hats

colt seavers x costume designer/manager!reader

there will be multiple parts, this is part one !!

a/n : so so so much fun to write, and probably one of my longest and favorite fics i’ve ever written. i love colt and ryan gosling, and tried to add as many easter eggs from “the fall guy” as possible

summary : colt always seems to be misplacing his costumes pieces, which has him constantly coming back to the costume manager and designer, y/n. the two decide to hang out for once outside of set.

contains: this is just purely fluff and good vibes, no smut, cursing, “will they, won’t they”, part two will have more romance dw

word count : 3.7k

Working with Tom Ryder was one of the most difficult tasks one could be assigned. He was arrogant, narcissistic, and overall just a complete asshole. I had the misfortune of being the costume designer and manager for the up and coming film “Metalstorm”, and Jody, the director, insisted on the most cliché cowboy get ups imaginable, plus a gold metallic touch. Having worked with Ryder many times previously, I knew he would hate this. I had prepared myself for one of his meltdowns long before it actually happened, but it still somehow caught me off guard.

“What the fuck is this?” He stormed into the costume tent, causing me to jump up from my seat in panic.

“Ryder... Jody insisted you wear this.”

Ryder looked down at his attire in utter disgust. “Don’t try to blame anybody but yourself. This is your fault. Are you trying to embarrass me? Do you have some personal vendetta? I’ve never even worked with you before!”

It stung that he didn’t even recognize me from our previous jobs together, but I tried to ignore it. Looking at Ryder’s get-up, he didn’t even look half bad. The gold metallic suit went great with his complexion, and the cowboy hat added a charming touch. But he wasn’t having any of it.

“You have to wear it. It’s not an option. This is your costume.” I tried to act brave, as if his harsh voice didn’t effect me one bit.

“You’re fucking delusional if you think I’m going to be caught dead wearing this. Say goodbye to your job, nobody speaks to me like that. I’m Tom god-damned Ryder.”

The tent’s entrance opened, revealing a very angry Colt.

Colt and I were sort of close, as close as most coworkers get. I didn’t think we’d never hang out outside of set, but I considered him sort of an ally. When he wasn’t performing a dangerous stunt, he’d talk to me about whatever was on his mind and listen to me ramble on and on.

“Just leave her alone, Ryder. She’s not here for you to bitch at.”

It would be hard to deny the fact that I had a small crush on Colt. He was everything I could want; charming, tall, handsome. But in those moments, as he defended me, I could feel it turning to a major crush.

Anger pulsed through him as he walked over to Ryder. I’d actually never seen him so pissed off before. Colt, the easy going, overly sweet, fall guy, was bowing up on Tom Ryder.

I could tell Ryder wanted to say something back, but instead he bit his tongue as he strutted past Colt, making sure to bump shoulders with him on the way out.

Colt shook his head, making eye contact with me. He had a sorry expression on his face, genuine pity for me.

“Ignore him. Ryder’s a jackass.”

I giggled, “That’s an understatement.”

He chuckled, “Anyways, do you have any extra hats? I somehow managed to lose mine, and I already have some stunts I need to do.”

Colt nervously twiddled his thumbs, embarrassed of his clumsiness. It was our third day on set, and he’d already misplaced his hat.

I nodded, smiling. Colt was always losing his props and costume pieces in previous projects we’d worked together in, so I’d remembered to bring extras. Turning around to reach into the bucket of hats, I pulled one out and handed it to him.

“Thanks. And again, just don’t let Ryder get to you. I know you’ve worked with him before, but don’t take anything he says personally, okay? If he gives you any problems, just let me know, alright?”

It wasn’t surprising that Colt remembered me from past projects, but it still felt nice in contrast to Ryder’s forgetfulness.

I nodded, smiling. “Thanks Colt, I really appreciate that.”

My cheeks burned a light crimson shade, and I tilted my head down, hoping he didn’t notice.

As he walked out of the tent, I added “Let me know if you need another hat or anything. I brought extras just for you.”

Colt looked back at me, smirking. “I will definitely need another one, thanks sweetheart.”

The simple nickname made my head spin. Yep, this is definitely a major crush.

—

By day five of filming, Ryder had become okay with his costume. Well, maybe not okay, but definitely impartial. Perhaps because his ego had realized how ridiculously good the suit made him look, or maybe Colt had spoken to him alone about the matter.

Part of me hoped it was the latter.

My job as costume designer and manager was really simple; fix and replace shit all the time. Especially Colt’s shit. When day six rolled around, he had lost three hats, his metallic jacket, and somehow a singular shoe. I’m not kidding, he had stumbled into the costume tent, peg footed, hobbling on the shoe he’d managed to keep. I didn’t mind though. In fact, Colt was one of the few people that actually visited me in the tent, instead of walking in, grabbing their belongings, and quickly walking out, not saying a word or acknowledging my existence. Colt’s visits slowly became one of the only things I looked forward to during filming.

On day twelve, when Colt came in to the tent without a cowboy hat once again, I mustered up the courage to ask him the one thing I never thought I’d be able to ask.

“Do you want to hang out sometime. You know, just me and you? Outside of set.”

The sides of his mouth quirked up. “I’d love that actually. But I do have one request.”

I furrowed my brows, listening intently. “If me and you go out, you have to wear a cowboy hat.”

My mouth dropped open in protest, but he argued on. “You’ve seen me in these stupid things so many times, too many times to count. I’m completely and utterly embarrassed. Maybe I want to see you sporting your southern spirit for once.”

“I’m from Wisconsin!” I giggled, shaking my head rapidly. “I am not wearing one of these things in public.”

Colt rolled his eyes, “Fine, but you have to wear one around set for the rest of filming. Deal?”

I sighed, remembering that I barely ever exit my tent other than at lunch time and when leaving set for the day. “Deal.”

“Karaoke, seven, tonight. I’ll text you the address.”

Colt turned to leave, and I grabbed his shoulder, pausing him.

“I don’t have your number.”

“Oh, yeah.” Colt chuckled, pulling his phone out of his pocket. We exchanged numbers, and he laughed at the excessive amount of repetitive digits in mine.

“And I’m expecting our deal to begin right now.” He said, glancing at the bucket of hats behind me. I sighed, picking one out and placing it upon my head.

“Happy?” I asked, holding out spirit fingers beside me.

Colt beamed, “Perfect.”

He turned and left the tent, and I pulled out my phone and began to update Colt’s contact name, only to sigh and pocket my phone again. Apple somehow doesn’t have a cowboy hat emoji.

—

When my Uber lazily pulled up to the karaoke bar, anxiety pooled in my stomach all at once. I shouldn’t have been this nervous, and I knew I was making this out to be something that it wasn’t. A date.

But what exactly was I supposed to think of this as? Hangouts happen at people’s houses, dates happen at bars. Plus it didn’t help that it was Colt and I alone. I look down at the sun dress that I donned, running my hands down the skirt. This wasn’t too formal, right?

I stepped out of the black car, thanking the half asleep driver, and walked toward the bar. I opened the door and automatically spotted Colt sitting by himself, drinking a small, lean glass of something colorful. The bar wasn’t exactly packed, but it wasn’t empty either. Numerous people danced around as a man in a orange and green polka dot button up did a bad rendition of Lady Gaga’s “Bad Romance”.

Making my way towards him, the anxiety filled my stomach even higher.

“Hey.” I said nervously, sitting down beside him.

Colt looked at me, examining my attire. “You look great.”

I blushed, shrugging. “Thanks, you don’t look too bad yourself.”

He smiled, taking another sip of his drink.

I wasn’t too keen on getting drunk because we still had to go to set in the morning and the last thing I wanted Colt Seavers to see was me throwing up in a bush, but a drink or two couldn’t hurt.

“You want a drink?”

“Sure,” I grabbed the bartender’s attention, “Can I please get a margarita?” She nodded, scrambling to assemble the cocktail.

“So I’m guessing you don’t drink much?” Colt asked, his lips in a sly smirk.

“What makes you say that?”

I chuckled, drinking the last of what I assume what his first drink and ordering another. I then learned the bright liquid was a sunset on ice.

“Well you ordered the most basic drink known to mankind. I mean, at least make it spicy.”

I guess that was true, but I didn’t like experimenting with my orders much. I didn’t enjoy drinking much in general due to the effects it would have on me later.

“I like what I like.” I shrugged, thanking the bartender as she handed me the margarita.

We sat in silence for a moment, until Colt turned to me. “So, what are we singing?”

I coughed into my drink. I hadn’t even thought of what I was going to sing yet.

“Funny of you to assume were doing a duet.” I said slyly, playing off the fact that I was trying to pull a song out of my ass.

Colt raised his eye brows. “Okay, then go and serenade me.”

I nodded at him, walking over to the DJ and requesting “Before He Cheats” by Carrie Underwood. Once Polka Dots was done singing his heart out, the adrenaline had kicked in and I felt as if I ruled the world. Or maybe I just wanted to rule Colt’s world.

The small crowd clapped along as I sang, and I say Colt’s smile through the audience every time I tried to execute one of the runs in the song.

Afterwards, I walked over to him, slightly embarrassed but also proud. “How’d I do?”

His face was covered in amusement. “It was... entertaining.”

I giggled, punching his arm lightly. “You’re the one who told me to ‘sport my southern spirit’!”

He sighed, shaking his head sarcastically. “The cowboy had would’ve made it complete. You missed the opportunity of a lifetime.”

“I think I’ll live. Now it’s your turn!”

I motioned towards the DJ booth, and he stood up turning back for a split second to wink at me.

I was expecting something silly. Maybe Total Eclipse of the Heart, or Sweet Caroline. I was terribly wrong.

By the time the first notes blared out of the speakers, I knew I was doomed.

Wise men say only fools rush in

But I can’t help falling in love with you.

It’s like he’d searched my brain, found my favorite love song of all time, and decided he was going to make me fall in love with him by singing it.

His voice wasn’t perfect. There were parts that were off key and shaky, but the bigger picture was beautiful. I never thought I could fall in love with someone in a karaoke bar.

Once he was done, my shoulders dropped and the tension left my body. It had been so unexpected, the tune had snuck up on me and now I felt head over heels to the man who had sung it. I wasn’t the only one who loved it, the crowd was going crazy.

“How’d I do?” Colt asked me, sipping the drink that had been waiting for him. This had to have been his third drink, and I could tell he was tipsy from the way he spoke.

“It was great.” I wanted to scream ‘It was amazing! It was perfect! Please marry me!’ But thankfully I did not.

“‘Glad you liked it.”

We sat in silence for a moment before I got the guts to ask.

“Why that song?”

Colt hummed, as if asking me to repeat my question.

“Why’d you pick that song?”

He grinned to himself before shrugging. “I just like the song, I guess. It’s one of my favorites.”

It could’ve been my habit of overthinking and examining everything to the smallest detail, or it could’ve been the psychology course that I took in college and obsessively studied over for months, but Colt’s excessive blinking in those moments told me there was a good chance he was lying to me.

Why would he lie over a song?

“It’s one of my favorites too.” I smiled. I’d find out why he lied to me later.

Colt grinned to himself in satisfaction.

We sat there for another hour, and Colt drank two more tequila sunrises, which meant I was now his designated driver.

At about nine, I decided it was time to leave.

“Colt, I’m gonna give you a ride home, okay?”

Colt nodded dizzily.

“Did you drive here?”

“Yeah, here.” He clumsily handed me his keys, almost missing my hand. I stiffened a laugh. “Diane! Close out my tab, please.” The waitress handed him his card quickly.

We stood up, beginning to leave, when Colt turned back to the bartender. “Thank you, Diane, those drinks were great.”

I waved goodbye to Diane as well, reading the “Amy” on her name tag with a smile.

I got him into the car slowly, and began driving him home.

“Hey, y/n?”

I hummed, waiting to hear what he was about to say. Chances are it would be something ridiculous, and I was all here for it.

“You’re really pretty. Have you ever been told that?”

I blushed, and prayed the dark car shadowed me enough for him not to see.

“A time or two. Thank you, Colt.”

He leaned the passenger seat back, and I thought for a moment that he would go to sleep.

“Where are you staying?”

He turned his head to me, and shrugged. “Can we just go to yours?”

I lifted my eyebrows in surprise. Colt Seavers, in my small temporary apartment that I was providing to stay in during the time we’d be filming. It wasn’t a mess since I’d only been staying in there for about two weeks, but it definitely wasn’t guest ready.

“Sure, why not?” I fumbled with my phone, pulling up my GPS app and getting directions to the apartment.

“Can I tell you something, y/n?”

I nodded slowly, ignoring the way my stomach felt when he said my name.

“I actually didn’t lose all of those hats.”

What?

I furrowed my eyebrows, whipping my head to look at him. “Then why’d you keep getting new ones from me?”

He hiccuped, smirking. “I just wanted an excuse to see you.”

If my face was a crimson shade before, it was a tomato now. I felt bad, like I was using Colt’s drunken state to get answers out of him.

“Did you like my song?” He looked over at me, waiting for my answer intensely.

My lips quirked up into a soft smile. “I did. ‘I Can’t Help Falling in Love With You’ is actually one of my favorite songs.”

This made him giddy. He giggled like a school girl, and then stiffened a laugh myself.

“I know.” Colt said under his breath.

So he did know.

“How’d you know?” I pressed Colt for answers. I knew that if he found out he’d told me any of this while drunk, he’d be mortified, but I just couldn’t help my curiosity.

“I heard you listening to it one day on set. I was outside of your tent, about to come in to tell you that I’d lost another hat, but I stopped and listened for a while. You were singing along, and you sounded so good. That’s why I wanted to sing a duet with you.”

At this point, I’m the color of a fire truck.

We pulled up to the apartment, and I unbuckled, getting out. I walked over to Colt’s door and opened it for him.

“Very chivalrous, thank you my lady.”

I giggled, helping his wobbly frame out of the car. “You’re welcome kind gentleman.”

We walked into the apartment building, making our way up a flight of stairs. Well, I made my way up them, Colt tripped over himself with each new stair until he made it to the top. At one point, he almost fell all the way down them, and dragged me down by my arm with him, but he managed to catch himself.

I brought him to my room, closing the door behind him. It was small, the kitchen and lounging room directly next to one another, separated by no wall. There was a door that led to the bedroom with a bathroom connected.

Walking into the kitchen, I grabbed a plastic cup form the cupboard and filled it with water. I handed it to Colt, who turned his nose up at it like I were trying to feed him poison.

“You have to drink water or you’ll regret it in the morning, Colt. You still have to go in for filming, remember?”

He sighed, taking the cup from me and drinking it all at once. “I’m starving.”

I thought for a moment about what he could possibly find to eat in the apartment. Nothing. I’d pretty much been eating take out since I arrived to Sydney.

“I’ll order a pizza.”

I pulled my wallet out of my purse on the kitchen counter. Colt shook his head, reaching in his pocket. “Don’t worry, I’ll pay.”

“You got the drinks, Colt, it’s fine.” I insisted, grabbing my card.

Colt handed me his entire wallet, “I wouldn’t be able to sleep knowing I made you pay for it.” his drowsy eyes said otherwise, “Please, just let me.”

I sighed, taking his wallet from him, “Thank you.” I said under my breath.

Colt only winked at me, lazily walking to the couch and plopping himself on it.

I ordered the pizza, assuming he liked pepperoni because who doesn’t like pepperoni?

I sat down beside him on the couch once I was finished. He was flipping through the different options on Netflix, his face was focused intently to find something.

Colt Seavers was on my couch. Well not necessarily my couch since the apartment was only being rented for me, but you get the point. We were on the couch together, tryin to find a movie to watch with pizza on the way. This realization made my cheeks feel hot once again.

“Here we go.” Colt chuckled as he clicked on the block buster film “Bad Cop, Good Dog” starring the one and only Tom Ryder.

“Get him off the screen, I might puke.” I giggled, attempting to grab the remote from him. Colt held it as far away as his much longer arms could manage, and I gave up.

“This is such a horrible film.” Colt told me, his eyes laser focused on the screen still.

“Then why are we watching it?”

Colt thought for a moment. “The way he talked to you the other day isn’t anything new. I’ve seen him talk to pretty much every one on every set we worked on together just like that. I just couldn’t always save them like I did you. It’s easy to think he’s some big, powerful guy, but in reality, he’s a pussy.”

I stayed silent for a moment. It felt nice, knowing that he still cared so deeply about the way Ryder had treated me.

“That’s nice and all, but it still doesn’t explain why exactly were watching this.”

Colt shrugged, “Oh, I just like making fun of him. We can watch something else if you want to.”

I snatched the remote from him, “Please.”

After a few more minutes of searching, I decided on the 1998 classic “The Parent Trap”.

“This movie never made any sense to me.” Colt crossed his arms as the movie started.

“Why?”

“Well, first off, what judge arranged this custody system? I mean seriously, how did both parents just up and leave with one kid?” He slurred so horribly that I had to fight a laugh as he spoke.

“It’s just a movie.” There are a few movies that I would defend with my life, this is definitely one of them.

“You can’t just use that as an excuse. Just because it’s a movie doesn’t mean it’s allowed to just defy all logic.”

“Colt,” I turned to face him, “You are working on a sci-if space cowboy movie with aliens. I think that makes the parent trap sound pretty reasonable.”

Colt chuckled, “Touché.”

My heart fluttered as I looked at Colt, lazily snuggled into my couch.

There was a knock at the door and I hopped up, walking through the kitchen and dodging Colt’s wallet, grabbing mine instead.

I paid for the pizza and brought it in, met with the sight of an extremely hungry Colt waiting impatiently at the counter.

“You didn’t use my wallet.”

I sighed, putting mine back in my purse. “I’m a big girl, I can pay for my own things.”

Colt shook his head. “You’re absolutely kicking my ass at the chivalry game.”

Grabbing a slice of pizza, I went back to the living room. Colt followed quickly behind me, and we got about one-fourth through the movie before I could tell Colt was getting extremely tired.

I got up, and went to my room, grabbing a blanket and a pillow.

“Here.” I handed them to him. Colt smiled up at me gratefully.

“Thanks.” He made himself comfortable, before leaning back and closing his eyes. The couch wasn’t very small, which was surprising since the apartment was so compact. This is why I didn’t feel bad about having him sleep on the couch. He didn’t complain either.

“Goodnight.” He mumbled, drifting off.

I smirked at him, walking to the kitchen and grabbing a bottle of water to place beside the couch. I also grabbed the bathroom’s trash can. He was going to have a terrible hangover.

“Goodnight Colt.”

I had gotten a date with Colt Seavers for the small price of humiliating myself in a southern style for the rest of filming. I’d say that’s a pretty good deal.

Or maybe it wasn’t date and I was delusional, but Colt ended up sleeping on my couch, which is pretty sweet if you ask me.

[pretty-little-mind33]

Tom Ryder x fem!reader

summary: Your boyfriend likes overstimulating you.

warnings: overstimulation, use of toys (vibrator), hint of dom!tom and sub!reader, praise

KINTOBER MASTERLIST

You feel hazy, your eyes glued to the ceiling as your hands curl around the sheets. Fuck. This is torture. The sound of the low hum of the vibrator is drowned out by your little whimpers as Tom mercilessly presses the toy to your clit.

"T-too much," you whine, gripping the sheets as you squirm. Tom presses a hand against your stomach, sending you a harsh look as his dirty blond hair slips over his blue eyes. You stop squirming, tears pricking your eyes.

Tom's gaze softens as he leans down his lips brushing against your ear. "You can take it," he murmurs, voice low. He adjusts his hand and holds the toy firmly in place, despite your protests. "I know you can."

Your breath catches in your throat, overwhelmed by the sensation, the heat pooling in your stomach. Your legs tremble, and your body betrays you as it starts to chase the pleasure, even though you've already come three times.

"Good girl," Tom whispers, a hint of pride in his voice as he watches you arch your back. He moves the vibrator away for just a second, and you let out a shaky breath, only for him to bring it back again—harder this time—and it sends a jolt in your core.

Your hands clench the sheets tighter as the tension inside you builds to an unbearable peak. "Tom, please," you plead, tears finally spilling down your cheeks.

Tom just grins, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek as his hand moves to your thigh, keeping you pinned in place. "Just a little more," he says, teasingly. "You're almost there."

Your body jerks, hips twitching instinctively as Tom holds the toy against your sensitive spot, his other hand sliding up your thigh. His touch is both firm and possessive. You're teetering on the edge and every nerve feels raw and alive. 

Tom's name escapes your lips again, this time more desperate, more pleading. Your voice is shaky with need. Tom is relentless, however, keeping the pressure and you're in blissful agony.

Your boyfriend's eyes bore into yours, dark with desire but still laced with control. "You're so close, aren’t you?" His voice is a low, teasing growl as he leans in, his lips grazing your jawline. The way he speaks to you, sends a shiver down your spine, like he's also pulling you apart with just his words.

You nod, unable to form a proper response, your body writhing beneath him. Your mind is hazy, lost in the overwhelming sensations. "Then come for me," he commands softly. "Let go, baby."

And that's all you need. His voice, the pressure, the unbearable teasing—it all crashes down on you at once, sending you spiraling into your desperate release. Your back arches, lips parting in a silent cry as the pleasure tears through you, wave after wave, leaving you trembling under his hold. 

Tom's gaze remains on you, his lips curving into a satisfied smile as he slows the toy down, letting you ride out your fourth high.

Finally, he pulls the vibrator away, dropping it on the mattress, and then he leans down to kiss your forehead. "Good girl," he murmurs again, his fingers wiping away the tears from your cheeks as he strokes your hair gently, grounding you back into reality.

Your body is still humming, the aftershocks making you shudder as you catch your breath. You blink up at him, and for a moment, there's nothing but silence and an unspoken connection in the aftermath.

tags: @sauronsgirl, @earth-elemental18, @princesssunderworld, @siriuslycaptainofthedawntreader, @simplyreflected

[nyxvuxoa-writes]

Hello! Could I please get #22 with Tom Ryder? And if possible could it have some jealousy-driven angst? I love your writing so much, you’re one of the bests in this website (along with your wife) 😍

Thank you for your kind words! I hope this hit's the spot for you.

𝙇𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝘽𝙞𝙩𝙚𝙨

Tom Ryder x F!Reader

◢ Genre: Prompt Request — Suitable For Adults Only. Minors will be blocked.

◢ Warnings: 18+ only, please. AFAB Reader. PWP (slight plotting, mostly smut). Angst. Tom is jealous, maybe a little paranoid. Drunk and high Tom. Slightly drunk reader. Mentions of drinking. Mentions of drugs. Mentions of a party. Smut. Marking the reader with hickeys. P-in-V. Mentions of orgasms and cum. Mentions of Tom saying you're his.

◢ Word Count: 1.7K

◢ A/N: Gif was made by me, please credit me if you use it. Likes are enjoyed. Reblogs are always greatly appreciated. And I am always down to hear what you think.

2K Follower Prompt List

"Were you flirting back with him?" Tom asks, his tone sounding rough, almost slurring just slightly from the mix of liquor and drugs.

The party, as usual, had been nothing short of crazy. Everyone wanted to be around Tom. Everyone wanted to be friends with Tom. People fawned and pawed for his attention and his favor. None of them knew him. None of them actually care about him. It was just the glamor effect of being around a big celebrity.

A part of you hated it, but that didn't stop you from enjoying yourself. Still, he was searching for a problem that wasn't there.

"No, Tom." You respond sounding almost annoyed at this point.

You have given him the same answer a couple times now. Why was he reaching for a problem that wasn't there? You were faithful to him, even when he was a complete asshole. Even when he would allow some strange girl to hang all over him for attention.

Maybe you should be the one raising questions, but you didn't. You had this trust in Tom because he didn't give you a reason not to, as much as it might look like it sometimes.

Placing your hand on the wall, you brace your slightly drunk self as you reach down to take off your shoes. You slip off one, and then the other, stumbling slightly.

"Were you interested in him?" He asks.

You shoot Tom a rather angry glare. "Seriously, Tom? No."

You go to make your way through the apartment, shaking your head in disapproval. This was insane. He knew better, but when he got like this, there was no stopping that sometimes stupid vivid imagination of his. But his hand reaches for you, grabbing at your forearm tightly as he pulls you back to him. He jerks you slightly, forcing you to look at him.

"You're mine, Y/n. No matter what anyone else thinks or wants. And they think they can just have you like they think they can have everything else --- they can't."

Tom's tone makes you stop, your eyes searching his. This wasn't just some stupid argument for the sake of it because he was drunk, was it? You couldn't tell anymore. You go to pull your arm away from him, wanting to walk away. You didn't want to reward this kind of behavior, but he pulled you back, jerking on your arm a little harder.

"Tom, let me ---" "No." He cuts you off. "Stop -- stop brushing me off."

He lets go of your hand only to wrap his arms around you. His face grazes against the crook of your neck. You can smell the liquor and cologne mix on him, the scent filling your nose and it's almost as intoxicating as what you both had to drink. His breath is hot on your skin, causing goosebumps as he grazes his nose against your neck. His hand travels against your body, going to grip your ass as he pulls you as close to him as possible, his fingers pressing to your cheeks and pulling them apart slightly.

"What's mine is mine. You're mine. All mine."

You're frustrated with him, but the way his hands handled your body made you weak. He can hear as your breath becomes shaky, slightly heavier than normal. He lifts you up, wrapping your legs around him as he goes to carry you off, moving a little slow to not drop you or bump into anything.

"Tom, I gotta ---" You start to say softly. He caught you off guard. "Shut up." He cuts you off again.

He wasn't about to let you have a word in edgewise. He was tired of you brushing this off, or getting mad at him because he wanted to make a point. Since talking about it didn't work, he was going to make his point in a way that you'd understand. Drunk, high, or not, he knew what he wanted and he wanted you. He wanted people to stop trying to get your attention. That guy wanted your attention. He hated it. It got under his skin.

Your body comes to the bed and he lays you on it, hovering over you for a moment. The weight of him on top of you felt good, the frustration starting to fade as he ran a hand up your thigh and to your side. It creeps up under your shirt, pushing your bra out of the way as his hand starts to fondle your breast. Your skin is sensitive, feeling hot as it responds to the desire that you always had for him.

Tom's lips feverishly press against yours before they start to trail from your lips to your jaw, and then your neck. He makes you moan slightly, your hips lifting up and pressing into his. This was much better than arguing or getting annoyed, but he still had nothing to be worried about when it came to you. Maybe you didn't understand why he responded the way he did, but you were tired of it.

Going to lift your shirt slightly, he fumbles a bit, wanting it off your body. You help him, lifting yourself up just enough to remove the fabric and the bra, then come to lay back down on the bed. His lips go to meet your nipple, taking it into his mouth like his life depended on it. He pulls slightly at it with his teeth, all while his hand moves from your side to between your legs.

Feeling his fingers meet your clit through the fabric, working the flesh in a circular motion, you gasp slightly. Your hands run through that tangled mess of shaggy blonde and brown hair. You pull at it slightly, feeling the vibrations of a groan against your breast. He knew exactly how to touch you, to cure that sense of bubbling frustration. His fingers pressed against the fabric of your pants a little harder, feeling as you started to become wet and it clung between your legs slightly.

Tom became increasingly excited at the response you gave him. His hips, pressed down slightly as he felt the restriction of the fabric that held him. With a heavy breath, he moves from you, his hands quickly gripping the waistband of your pants, pulling them down, and stripping them from your body, along with your panties. He tosses them to the side before he fumbles slightly, stripping his own clothes off and letting them fall to the floor.

It's just a matter of moments before he's between your legs. His hand grips the shaft of his cock, stroking it slightly against you before he guides his sensitive head between your wet folds. Both of you moan in unison as the length is pressed in deeply. He starts to thrust, his flesh meeting yours with deeply pressed, rough, steady paces.

The feeling of him makes your back arch against the bed. His lips meet your collar bone, nipping at your slightly before they trail against your neck. You can feel Tom nuzzles into you slightly, a hand gripping at your hip, the other braced next to the side of your head. Noises start to fill the room as Tom becomes increasingly vocal in his enjoyment of the way your body flexes around him.

"Ma-- Mark me, Tom." You stammer in a breathy tone. "What?" He asks, face still nuzzled into the crook of your neck. "Mark me. Mark me so everyone knows who I belong to."

Your words bring out a sort of feral instinct in Tom. His lips press against your neck as he starts to pull at the skin between his teeth. You can feel the wetness of his lips, the warmth of it as at first it tickles and then a slight bit of pain. You moan out, your hands quickly moving against him as you aid to pressing his cock in deeper between your legs. He moans quickly, letting go of your neck as his lips part in a heavy breath. Your neck is left with a tingle of pain, a warm wet spot where his lips once were.

But he doesn't stop there. A low groan comes from him as his pace starts to pick up, pressing into you with a more fever of pacing. His lips meet a new spot on your chest, pulling again as he starts to leave another mark. Before moving to another spot on the other side of your neck, leaving another. Maybe you were never one for love bites, maybe in some way, you were. But in the moment, there was something about the action that had sent both of your bodies into a sort of overdrive.

The sounds of flesh meeting flesh become louder as the pumps between your legs become harder, a little more clumsy in nature. Both of you let out moans in unison as you two fit like perfect puzzle pieces. He comes to take that bracing hand and lowers it a little more, his body weight pressing against you as he rests on his elbow. His other hand, still gripping at your hip starts to leave little fingertip bruises against your soft flesh. You both work your motions together, your hips moving in synch as the pace starts to pick up more and more.

His lips move from your flesh to your lips, pressing against yours. Hovering little kisses at first before your two became more passionate. Your tongues start to dance together messily, letting out noises of pleasure between your breaths. You start to feel that tremble in your body, working its way from between your legs and throughout your limbs as you climax. Tom is right along with you. He presses deeper, faster, harder until that building presser lets go and releases his finish deep into you.

There's a heavy groan from Tom as you moan his name loudly, gripping the bedspread under you in an attempt to hold onto something. You both ride out those finishes, with twitches and heavy breaths. After a moment of silence, he shifted his weight to hover over you better once more. He still braces with one hand as the other comes up to grip your jaw. He looks over the marks on your neck and he boyishly smirks. Your head turns from one side to the other as he checks your neck. His grip on your jaw tightens slightly as he leans down, kissing your cheek.

"You're mine babe." He mutters softly. "All yours, Tom." You whisper back.

------------------------

Extra tags: @voxmortuus @earth-elemental18

[tangerinesgf]

I see you say sub Tom Ryder and humbly request a fic where he cums quickly/prematurely ejaculates and is maybe super embarrassed about it (or not up to you how he reacts!!)

So maybe you're trying to train him to last longer (it takes a while)

Tom Ryder x FEM!reader

Tags/Warnings: Smut 18+ MDNI, P in V sex, comfort, fluff, sub Tom Ryder

A/N: Tysm for your request, I hope you enjoy this little story. I think it turned out pretty well :)

As any other normal couple you and Tom Ryder had sex on a regular basis. It was amazing how good he could make you feel with his tongue or fingers deep inside you, that had never been the problem after all.

The issue started the first time he wanted to really fuck you.

He clearly hadn't been with a girl like that before, he wasn't used to the feeling of being inside of you. The sensation was overwhelming to him and after only a mere few thrusts he had already orgasmed, leaving you to finish up for yourself while he caught his breath.

After both of you had finished there was an awkward silence in the room. You didn't know what to say and Tom was clearly too embarrassed to bring it up as well.

After that you tried a couple more times, but the same thing kept happening, ending in the same awkward silence everytime.

That was until you had had enough of it and decided to bring it up. You wanted to help him, not only for your own benefit, but to help him gain his confidence back as well.

So here you are in bed with him. You can tell he's nervous about being inside you again. The idea of letting you down again is eating him up inside. He just wants to make you feel good.

"It's alright, love.. we're just gonna go slow. Follow my voice yeah?" You say in a soft comforting tone.

The idea was for you to ride him. He wouldn't have to move, just take it and try not to cum. It sounded so simple. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah.. yeah just nervous." He mumbles, avoiding eyecontact with you.

"Hey.." You gently grab his chin and make him look at you. "It's gonna be alright."

He nods and gives the go ahead for you to start. You slowly sink down on his hard cock, drawing a low groan from his throat. You settle down, letting yourself adjust to his size.

"You good?" You ask him once again. He just nods in response, but that's not enough for you.

"Words, love. Use your words." You say in a slightly commanding tone that turns him on so much.

"Yeah.. yes. I´m okay, You can- you can move if you want." His voice already sounds strained and you haven´t even moved yet.

His hands make fists in the sheets as you slowly start riding him, his breaths are laboured as he tries to hold himself back with everything he has. For you.

"So good.. just a little longer.." You whisper breathlessly as you increase the pace just a tad.

"You're doing so good, baby.. so good f'me." You praise him in between moans. You can tell he's on the edge of cumming, but you just want him to hold on a little bit longer.

"I can't.. 's too much." Tom mutters as his eyes roll back in his head. Desperate whimpers leave his lips, silent tears are running down his face.

"I'm close, Tom.. just a little longer. You're doing so well."

Unfortunately he can't hold out long enough for you to finish and with a loud cry he bucks his hips up into you, cumming inside you.

Ryder's body falls limp on the bed, completely spend from his mindblowing orgasm. You

"I'm sorry.." he whimpers softly as you lay down on his chest. "I couldn't hold it.."

Your face softens at his words. You know how much he wanted this to go well. To finally do good and make you cum.

"Oh no, no baby.. you did so well. Such a good boy." You gently brush his hair out of his face before giving him a small kiss

"We'll try again next time." You whisper softly as you try to comfort him.

Tom hums softly before wrapping his arms around you, pulling you close to him as you lay on his chest.

"You're being way too patient with me, love. Can't even fuck you properly.." He mutters into your hair.

"'S okay.. you'll get there. I'm willing to wait."

Your words make him feel safe and understood. He'd expected you to leave him after the first time he couldn't make you cum. Then the second and third time, but you still stayed.

It didn't really make sense to him, but he was glad you were still here.

"You're amazing." He kisses the crown of your head before settling into a comfortable silence with you. And after a few minutes both of you are fast asleep in each other's arms.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! Reblogs and comments are so much appreciated you don't even know. Please send me Tom Ryder requests if you have any. Love you guys <3

Taglist: @earth-elemental18 @allaroundjejje (lemme know if you wanna be added or removed)

[voxmortuus]

Why hello there, so you've stumbled upon my masterlist! Welcome! This is the second one. You can find the original linked below. The first one hit its limit, plus back from hiatus, so on top of a new name and fresh work, you get a new Masterlist!!

Due to my blog being strictly 18+ it's safe to assume there is NSFW content, be it some sort of drugs, smoking, liquor, smut, etc activity. So if you're curious if it is or isn't, click the fic, and read the trigger warnings provided in the fic.

Masterlists

►Original Masterlist

►Hannibal Masterlist

►Henry Cavill Masterlist

►Stranger Things Masterlist

►Aaron Taylor-Johnson Masterlist

Divider & Header Credit to @nyxvuxoa

►The Terminal List - Ben Edwards - White Knuckled & Low Battery - Request ►Hemlock Grove - Roman Godfrey - Perfectly Imperfect - Request ►American Gods - Bilquis - Worship Me - Request ►You - Love Quinn - Take em Off - Smut Prompt Request ►The Boys - Soldier Boy - Fuck The Quiet Game - Smut Prompt Request ►The Stand - Randall Flagg - You Should Be So Lucky - DARK!FIC ►The Boys - Soldier Boy - Where You Belong - Request ►Outer Banks - Rafe Cameron - Back Off Asshole ►Sons of Anarchy - Jax Teller - Can You Come Over? - Smut Prompt Request ►The Boys - Soldier Boy - Kama Sutra - Smut Prompt Request

►Elvis (2022) - Elvis - The Company He Keeps - Request ►The Invitation (2022) - Walter Deville - Beg For It - Smut Prompt Request ►The Bikeriders (2024) - Benny Cross - Be My Old Lady - Smut ►The Fall Guy (2024) - Tom Ryder - Begging You - Smut Prompt Request ►The Bikeriders (2024) - Benny Cross - Backseat Pleasure - Smut Prompt Request ►The Bikeriders (2024) - Benny Cross - Under Pressure - Smut Prompt Request ►The Bike Riders (2024) - Benny Cross - Feel Good Tears - Smut Prompt Request

►To Come

►To Come

[dirty-little-mind33]

received this on @pretty-little-mind33 but because i'm assuming it's 18+, i'm answering here ♥️ also assuming you mean Tom Ryder bc i don't write for any other Toms!

warnings: degradation, rough sex, praise

tom is 100% a lingerie guy! he likes those either white or black feminine lace sets. like those dresses that have an open crotch or something with easy access so he doesn't have to do much to touch you.

he likes the idea of 'unwrapping' you. like you're his present, his prize. he'll stand over you as you lay on his bed, fiddling with the lace as you stare up at him teasingly.

"Fuck, baby, you're so sexy."

he'll palm his dick desperately.

his favorite positions' are cowgirl because he likes gripping your hips, marking your skin, and watching your tits bounce in his face—or doggy style because he can pull your hair and fuck you hard. He'll slap your ass on occasion and whispers dirty things in your ear,

"Tightening around me like a desperate whore? Fuck."

bonus points if there is a mirror in front of you so he can fuck you from behind and still see your desperate expressions.

on days where he's overwhelmed or if you're sad, he'll go slow and gentle and he'll prefer missionary so he can watch over you and kiss you all over as he stretches you with his cock.

"There, baby, there—such a good girl. My good girl."

[twins-write]

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