#tom smut

[slytherinslut0]

SLYTHERINSLUT0’S KINKTOBER

october 8th. tom — somno / free use kink.

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST. | 2024.

summary: tom riddle is a god at many things. you’ve never felt more alive than when you’ve reduced him to something lesser.

warnings: 18+, SMUT MDNI, free use, sleeping kink, a lot of reverence for more biblical tom riddle that i genuinely need to choke me unconscious, PIV, fingering, multiorgasm, overstim, slight bondage, dubcon but not really i mean this fic speaks for itself. tom is kinda soft here???? what happened to me??

Tom Riddle, you'd determined, was obsessive before he was anything else. You saw it long before you knew him—intimately, at least—his compulsions, the meticulous way in which he carved out his time, handpicking what fit his ambitions best before pouring himself into them until he was empty.

Tom never moved with half-measures, a man that brilliant does nothing halfhearted.

You didn't expect to become his fixation—didn't know what it meant to be seen by someone who never stopped searching—never stopped dissecting—until the moment when his eyes lingered just a second too long and his hands followed suit—the moment he taught you the meaning in the only way he knew how.

Benevolently.

Tom Riddles need is tempered but there's always something burning underneath, something that flickers to life when his breath catches against your neck—when his fingers trace delicate lines along your skin—something that feels a lot like a thank you. The magical world gave him power—dominion—but in you, he found control. The kind you give freely, without even knowing it, the kind that he takes with the same reverence in his hands he applies to everything he touches.

There’s always been a mutal give and take between you—one formed without words and you solemnize this unspoken vow because he leaves you no other choice.

And it's not by force, not by demand, but by the sheer intensity of his regard, that sacred hunger in the way he looks at you, like you were made for this. For him. To be unmade, piece by piece, worshipped in the ruins of what you once were and stitched back together by his grace alone. When he kneels at your feet after a day that's worn him thin, his eyes sharp with exhaustion— when he spreads you open as though you're a book of scripture, when his hands steady you and his mouth finds its way between your thighs—there's nothing left for you to do but hold onto him. Your fingers in his hair, letting him take—letting him consume you in ways only he can.

He is both salvation and sin. Saviour and ruin. You're not sure how it's possible but he ensures you believe it.

And it started with secret moments—stolen glances, brushes of fingers, impromptu study sessions. But it grew into something more, and then something more still, until one day he's slipping into your flat as though it's his own, finding you before you even realize he's there.

You'll be cooking dinner and without a word, he'll flick off the stove with a twitch of his fingers—a breath of magic—his appetite insatiable but not for any caloric substance. You pretend, for his sake, to be surprised by his power, the way he moves without moving, but he knows better now—knows that nothing he does surprises you anymore, not after the way he loosens the strings of your corset with just a blink, how his teeth scrape your ear in a smile as he works a spell between your thighs. Not after he waits until you're thoroughly ruined by his magic—malleable just the way he likes you before he's merciful, allowing you the honour of his touch—allowing himself the honour of breaking you further.

There's no shock left in it because you've already accepted that whatever you think he's capable of—there's more.

There will always be more with Tom—a knowledge that is a sweet, endless ache. He is reasoning made lucid. You could never define all that he is capable of.

And foolishly you thought after all these years you'd have come to understand him, but Tom Riddle is not easily deciphered—he's a mystery even to himself, a disposition of contradictions. He doesn't need to be understood; he only needs to feel as if he is, to which you do your best. But when you're finally asleep after a long day and feel the bed dipping behind you in the quiet hours—a large, rough hand grazing timidly up your thigh, comprehension of Tom Riddle becomes even more of a distant accomplishment.

There is no logic in him when it comes to you, just instinct. No explanations, just need.

Tom has always had his compulsions, but you are his favourite fixation, and so you give. There's hunger, and there's devotion. There's desire, and then there's worship. You let him choose which ones he wants from you.

On this night you stir, half-conscious yet not quite aware of what's happening as his fingers move slowly, finding the heat between your legs and spreading you gently. There's never any urgency in his movements, though the fervour is palpable—a kind of feverish desperation thrumming beneath the surface, a pulse you can feel in his flesh, in the way his breath catches as if this is the only way he knows how to breathe.

Perhaps the only certainty about Tom is that you know he wouldn't be here if it weren't a necessity.

And he does this often, though sometimes it's more—the plush of his lips, the slick slide of his tongue—but this time, he chooses to wake you to the steady push of his fingers inside you, two of them stretching you, deliberate in their rhythm, curling deep, coaxing you open. It's his mercy, his crafted version of tenderness—you know he could easily just cast a lubing charm and press right in—but he doesn’t. He paces, he savours.

It’s a patience he continually allows himself which you know he doesn't have to give.

And some nights, when you wake to his touch—he whispers for you to sleep, to let him have you quietly, other times he'll make it clear that's the last thing he wants.

Tonight—

You shift against him, instinct guiding your body, but he hushes you, gentle, soft—a tut of warning, a shushing breath against your ear. You don't know how long he's been inside you, how long his need has burned quietly beside you, but by the time you realize, it's the wet sounds, obscene, that draw you from the haze of sleep, drowning out the sharpness of his breath. You're half-gone, face pressed into the pillow, drooling— and your lips part on a moan that never fully forms.

When your hand reaches instinctively for his wrist, his growl curls low in your ear—

"Sleep," if the command was a weapon it'd be a feather—he casts a binding spell on your wrists, drawing them above your head. "I've got you."

You swallow another moan, throat dry, choking on air as you fight to rip free from whatever remnants of slumber you're clinging to. His fingers are slow, pumping in and out of you, dragging you deeper into his need—and you're shaking in a way that is as involuntary as it is habitual. You know from experience just how much he loves this— the way he reduces you to fragments, the way he breaks you apart until there's nothing left but the shattered pieces of your pleasure—the mess he can make of you in minutes, even absentmindedly.

He slips an arm under your head, pulling you closer, impossibly close. The room is dark, and though you can't see him, you imagine his face—the hunger in his eyes as his skin sticks to yours, the hard evidence of his need against your ass.

"T-Tom—" your voice stumbles, a choked whisper of his name. His hand curls over your mouth, silencing you.

"Quiet," he mutters. "It's just a dream."

His breath ghosts over your neck, and your back arches in response. Wherever he was earlier, he came back starving, and this is part of it—sometimes he wants you silent, sometimes he wants you loud. Tonight, he wants you like this.

"Stay still," he murmurs again, and you shudder, your climax pulled from the edges of sleep by the slow drag of his fingers inside you. "Just a dream..."

A dream, he says—somewhere inside you, buried under a fog of grog you know it isn't, and he knows you know, he's not trying to trick you but it's all part of the game—coaxing—the way he devours you a little more each time, not just physically but mentally too.

With your lips muffled by his hand and his fingers buried deep, you do what you always do—you let him.

"T-Tom—" you whimper through the cracks in his digits. Your body is soft, boneless, melting into his touch, aching for more. "Please—"

As much as he wants you quiet he wants his name broken in your mouth all the same. He rewards you with a bitten-off moan, a crack in his control, a slight hitch in his breath—you clench around his fingers and his palm tightens over your mouth just a little too hard before he realizes and eases up.

You did say Tom's need was tempered—but sometimes, there are exceptions.

"I said quiet." His hips rut against your ass, fingers slow dragging at your walls, scissoring in your slick. "Let me give you this."

You push back into him, desperate, needy. "But—"

"Take it." His fingers on your mouth slide past your lips and over your tongue, reaching toward the back of your throat. Tears spring to your eyes as you gag, the sound smothered by the moan you make as a spell, swirling and tightening, pulses against your clit. "With the way I'm going to fuck you, you need this...you'll thank me later for it..."

Tom doesn't waste words. His tone may be soft but it's also sharp, which tells you everything you need to know—that he's had a wretched day and you're the only thing that can make it better. That he's going to fuck out his frustrations on you.

You moan around his fingers at the thought.

"You'll want to be nice and stretched for me, won't you?" A statement, not a question. "You don't want it to hurt. You know I don't want to hurt you."

Though he'll deny it, he's not as emotionless or as lacking in empathy as he'd like to believe. It's one of the many things you've come to know about him—or should you say, one of the many things you've struggled to understand about him—but the way he says it, like he's reminding himself not to be cruel—it's all very Tom Riddle.

"I don't want to hurt you.." he repeats in a murmur, as if he's trying to convince himself. You can't speak, though you're not sure you could find the words even if you could; the only indication you give him that you understand—that you hear him—is the quiet whimper that slips past his fingers. "Just need you."

The spell on your clit is as overwhelming as the drag of his fingers against your walls and it's only moments until you're cumming hard around him and he's groaning hard in return—you know his eyes are closed and you know he's inhaling every single sound you make as though he could house them in his lungs. The darkness clings to you like a second skin but Tom clings to you worse—not relenting even as you're twitching and whimpering with aftershocks.

"There we go." You're squirming and Tom fucking loves it. "Good girl."

Overstimulation is charging in—you have no where to run from it. You bite down on his digits in your mouth and he punishes you by intensifying the spell on your clit. "T-Tom—Tom—"

All he offers is a shush. His fingers curl deep.

"I need...I need you...need this.." he's mumbling, mantra-like, almost like a prayer and perhaps that's the closest he's come to one. You can count on one hand the amount of times you've heard him say it but you know there's no one else he'd be saying it to—no one else he'd want to. "You know, I thought of this all day...having you, like this..."

You sob around his fingers in your mouth as he rips another climax from you—you think you're seeing stars and you know if you are, they were hung there by him.

"Couldn't focus.." his teeth find your jaw, just under your ear, biting just a little harder than he usually does. "No matter what I did, I just kept thinking of this...of you...of you like this for me.."

Tom Riddle is a greedy man—in all ways—but he's not only greedy in the way he takes from you, he's greedy in the way he gives to you too, and though he would never admit it—he'd rather die first—this moment feels as close to worship as he'll ever come.

As you said, there's reverence in everything he fucking touches—you know you're lucky you get to experience it.

"You have this effect." He swallows hard, you feel it against your shoulder. "You have this effect on me...I—I can't stop wanting you-“

—and he's just a man, after all. No matter how well versed in dark spells and manipulation, no matter how cold and calculating he's able to be, beneath it all he's so very mortal. He tells you he was never made for love but when he buries his face in your neck and talks this talk it sure feels like maybe he was.

And all it does is make you want him that much more—knowing that you do this to him—you make him weak. You make him want and need and yearn.

"I don't even know what you've done to me," his voice is destroyed—his thoughts cut off by the evidence of your desperation for him, the lewd sounds coming from your pussy as you suck on the fingers in your mouth. "Fuck, you're so wet."

You groan, helpless and needy as a whore. Tom digs his teeth into your shoulder. It's all too much. There are many ways to come apart and this is Tom's only true undoing—in the aftermath of the destruction he causes, and you are—his collateral.

"Fuck—oh, fuck—" you're garbling, the words don't sound like words. "T-Tom—"

You're not sure how long you've been awake or how many times you've cum—how much oxygen you've inhaled since this all started but the one certainty is that you know Tom has very little patience left—if any.

"Fuck." He shifts, grinding against you. "Can you take me? Can you take me right now?"

All you can do is nod—your eagerness evident in the pace of it—drool dribbling down your chin and instantly the spell fades from your clit, his fingers pull out of your cunt and he's lifting your thigh up toward your head, fingers still hooked in your mouth. There's a moment of movement—trousers and boxers pulled down and then he's there—thick and heavy and warm between your thighs. You tense.

You'll never get used to the size of him. His ego made flesh. Though perhaps the greatest pleasure is in knowing he'll never get used to you, either.

"Gonna—gonna fuck you." He mutters against your neck as he glides along your slit—you're soaked, slick coating your thighs and the sheets and him but it never matters much because it always stings when he takes you. Especially like this. "It won't be soft."

You moan and he finally pulls his fingers free from your mouth, dragging them down to your throat, nails against your skin that feel more like claws because for all the human Tom Riddle is he's just as much animal.

He's never known soft—only with you—but you wouldn't have him if not for all his jagged lines and sharp edges. You let him take.

"Please, Tom-" words fail you, they always do when he's like this. "Please, gods—fuck me-"

Tom growls and it vibrates up your spine. You rarely curse when you can help it—so when you do, when you can't do anything to stop the pathetic vulgarities—he likes it too goddamn much and you know he's going to give you what you want because you give him what he needs.

A mutual give and take, as all the best things are.

"No god could compare to me." He doesn't say it with arrogance, just with certainty, like a letter he's written a thousand times. Then, he's flipping you onto your stomach, wrists still bound above your head as he lines up and presses inside you—all at once, deep and full and breathtaking. "Oh, yes—"

You cry out but it's muffled by the pillow, your cunt trying hard to adjust to the stretch—Tom is never cruel, but he is brutal, and perhaps the two get confused. There is a difference, though you know he would prefer to remain ambivalent on his own harshness, it’s the only way he's managed to survive this long—but here, with you, he thinks he can allow for a bit of mercy.

And he gives it, in his own way, only because you gave it first. It's as close as he'll come to offering himself without asking anything in return. To you, it's still a pretty close second.

"I'm going to make you feel this," he murmurs, lips against your shoulder, teeth against skin and if you had any tears left, this would be when they fell. "You'll think of this all day tomorrow. You'll think of me all day tomorrow."

He pauses inside you—he's taking it slow and the implications of that fact are far out of reach right now.

"I'll think of you anyway, Tom," you grit through your teeth, voice cracking on his name as he pulls out—only halfway—ensuring you feel that emptiness before he presses back in. "I'm—ohh—a-always thinking of you."

He makes a sound, a broken sort of sound, the same one you've heard him make only a handful of times—a raw, vulnerable, almost pathetic sound and all it does is make you want him that much more. He's still moving too slow, too methodically, drawing pleasure out from deep under your skin.

You clench around him because you know he doesn't want you to—he warns you against it with a cervix-piercing thrust.

"You're always thinking of me." His hand snakes around your throat, his lips to your ear—"and are you proud of that?"

You know that's a loaded question, the answer to which he doesn't truly care to know. But it's one you'll answer truthfully, regardless—because you know it'll affect him either way.

You nod, just once—and the grip on your neck tightens, cutting off an almost sob. His hips piston faster now, as though you've chipped off another piece of his control.

"Proud enough, then," he growls, his pace unforgiving, and that's enough to tear another broken sound from you—from the both of you. His fingers twist painfully around your throat, digging into your skin like a man possessed, and you know that means he's done holding back. His mouth is next to your ear, you can feel his smirk. "M'sorry—I'm—sorry—"

He says he's sorry but you know he's not. Not with the way he's groaning into your ear, not with the way he's driving his cock fast and deep. He is a manmade monster and a self-made god trapped inside a mortal man who needs so much to feel human. He knows to be nothing but intense. It's a wonder how the three can exist in him all at once.

"T-tom-" your voice fractures around his name, the only word you know now. "F-fuck—s'deep—ohh-"

His teeth sink into your neck as he cranks your head back with a pull of your hair, bared teeth on preyish flesh and you hardly have time to worry how deep he might devour because you feel his magic on your clit and you see those stars again—distant yet creeping closer, drawn down to your orbit by his power alone.

"M'sorry—" he mutters again, as though he was saying it to your cervix. "Fuck—"

You scream out again as the spell on your clit swirls faster—the sensation unfathomable each and every time—he's fucking you so hard you're burning underneath him and though the pleasure is as white hot as the flames that now cover every inch of you, you don't fear burning as much as you fear it's passing.

He's a fire in your veins, in your blood, and if he stops now you'll die of the cold.

"So good for me," he says, as soft as he can muster for being so lustdrunk— "so—perfect. You're perfect."

Perfect. You whinge and squeeze your eyes shut—choking on your breath. The words are more painful than his thrusts because time and time again you’ve failed to decipher their meaning—you know he doesn't believe in perfection, the concept too weak and foolish for his sake—but he's said it before, always in times like this—you are perfect.

You're perfect under his hands. You're perfect when you shatter apart for him, in the darkness, under the light of those stars he dragged down for you. 

"Ohh—fuck—Tom—" another climax wracks you, splitting you at the seams. "I'm—I'm—"

It feels like an earthquake and you're the epicenter, all the power and destruction Tom thrusts into you radiating from within you outward. His hand moves from your throat to your jaw, tilting your face back so he can kiss you, messily, open-mouthed and with teeth. But it's still a kiss. Something he rarely does.

"Yeah, yeah. Good—" he grunts into your mouth. "Mmfff—fuck—tight—“

A second later, he's cumming, a broken string of profanity tumbling from his chest into your mouth, release spilling deep inside you, warm and thick and he holds you tighter for it as you whimper and throb around him. Tom has always had his reservations. Always had his long list of fixations—and like you said, he pours himself empty into the ones he's chosen. It's in moments like these where you feel it more than ever—as his hips slow and his cock stops twitching inside you—the way that he's made you part of that list.

And when he's done moving through you—when he's done taking what he needs—he pulls away, yet he's still there. Freeing your wrists and rubbing them gently, curling you against him as you both descend.

"Thank you." He murmurs, face in your hair.

You tell him he doesn't need to thank you but you know it makes no difference. After all, he's still a man. A man with something to prove, even under a sky full of stars he dragged down for you.

Tom is a god at many things. You've never felt more alive than when you've reduced him to something lesser.

[xxzlushiez]

Angelic girl

T. Kaulitz x f! Reader

Synopsis: Tom sees a girl and she like looks like a complete angel he tries to do his little flirty things with her but she just ignores it and it makes him like her even more.

Tags: Name is attractive, clingy Tom, couple goals Frl, toms whipped, the band finds it funny, touchy Tom, make out seshs after concerts

“Even if my heart stops beatin, you’re the only thing I need… with me.”

- the first time he saw you his eyes were GLUED

- it was post concert and he was just out goofing around buying random stuff with the band when he saw you

- You were just on the phone talking with a friend and getting snacks at a small corner shop

- But bro he was whipped

- wide eyed and all, might’ve walked into a shelf of accident

- his eyes would not leave you the whole time you were browsing around the store

- let’s say you caught him staring and he just looked like a deer in the headlights bc he didn’t expect to be caught

- you laughed and said something to your friend on the phone abt him before walking past him to pay

- once he snapped out of it and saw you were leaving he chased after you

- leaving the rest of the group staring at him like 😐 “tf just happened”

- when he DID catch up to you and got your attention he would try and play it off and would be like-

- “hey, I’m Tom-“ would probably try and lean up against a wall but would slip and almost fall bc he wasn’t close enough to it

- you legit stared at him like 🤨 not impressed

- “Uhh…I’ll call you back”

- you looked him up and down and asked if he needed anything

- he tries use pick up lines on you but you just laugh a little and walk away and leave him following you like a kicked puppy while you continued to talk with your friend

- Bill and Gustav are def staring at him from the convenience store window like🧍while Georg is hyping him up

- is a persistent mf and eventually sets up a hangout with you the following day (he begged on his knees and clung onto your leg until you accepted)

- pictures show up all over the media speculating on you two’s relationship

- photos are mostly of Tom getting walked like a dog by you

- he’s always walking behind you while you lead him to god knows where

- tags along everywhere you go even for minuscule things

- many comment on how different his attitude is when he’s with you

- once y’all are closer, dating or not he is alllll over you 24/7

- can never stay away from you

- head on the shoulder hugging you from behind while you talk with someone

- playing with the belt loops on your pants while you play with his hair while talking with the band

- Hand on your lower back while walking the carpet or through crowds of paparazzi

- makes out w/ you after concerts bc of that adrenaline rush and you both love it sm

- against the wall backstage n everything

- grabs at anything he can but most you’re waist

- loves pushing his hips flush against yours

- whiny if you tell him he has something scheduled and can’t spend time with you

- always touching your ass and doesn’t care who sees wants ppl to see

- literally had to kick him out so you could shower alone one time bc he wouldn’t leave

- eventually you just accepted you’ll have to shower with someone all the time

- You def pulled him he didn’t pull you

- he’s not ashamed to admit that

- Lowkey moody when you’re not around and with him and it drives the band crazy

- head over heels type of love with him

- always staring at you with puppy dog eyes

-watches you do your hair and makeup

- sneak peeks what you’re wearing so he can subtly match in his own style

- when fans try to flirt he’s like 🏃”Name where’s Name”

- One time a fan tried to get his attention by showing off the shirt she was wearing and showing her chest and he was like…

- “How would Name look in that”🤔

- “Name would NOT wear something like that”

- said it out loud one time and almost made a fan cry but apologized bc Bill said so

- but Tom is Tom and if you notice him checking someone out or flirting without knowing you’d set him straight

- you know your worth and tell him off if needed

- but the chance he would is like one in a million because who is better than you?

- ‘no one’ is the answer

- interviewee’s would try and bring up how much he changed relationship wise and he’s like

- “well yeah I’m literally dating her why would I want anyone else?”

- def teased by Bill and Georg on how whipped he is

- doesn’t deny it at all and just nods his head like “yeah Ik bro isnt she great”

- Carves your name on the side of one of his guitar with a knife and it’s all wobbly and messy but you loved it and he was so giddy abt it

- if you have piercings he’ll get matching ones

- comments on your appearance 24/7

- “You’re so hot”

- “did you get prettier?”

- “is that skirt new?”

- you always put him in his place without even saying anything

- like he say smth and you just staring and him and he’s like

- “ I was just kidding babe of course just jokes😁”

- sweats bullets when when you guys fight abt things bc you are scary

- Begs for forgiveness

- Buys you so much stuff and doesn’t stop even if you want him to

- I feel like gift giving is his love language and there is no stopping it (just accept them it makes him cheese so hard he’s all happy and will kickin his feet n shit when you aren’t looking)

- named “teen couple of the year” in lots of magazines

- he keeps those magazines inside of his nightstand

- gets so many questions abt you in interviews

- gets a little to personal with the answers

- embarrasses you sometimes but find it amusing and so does he

- even fans can’t get mad because you guys r just so cute together

- literally some fans named yall #goals

- The band loves you guys together because it brings out the good in Tom

[tomssexdoll]

Fire and Ice

PAIRINGS: Tom 2010 x Female reader

CONTENT: ANGST + SMUT + FLUFF

SYPNOSIS: Tom and Y/N have been enemies for years, they go to the same university and he is such a pain in the ass. One day at a party they get into an argument, one slap leading to him giving Y/N a taste of how he really felt about her.

A/N: if you want to be tagged or i accidently missed your tag comment on my pinned masterlist <3

WARNINGS: dom!tom, sub!reader, p in v (missionary but turns into riding), mutual masturbation, LOTS OF TEASING AND KISSING, arguing (some violence but only a tiny bit)

Tom kaulitz was my "enemy", he was in the same university as me and much to my luck, every single class I was in. He was a pain in the ass, a real asshole. He always teased me, only choosing to be an asshole to me and nobody else.

I didn't really know why he chose me to be his personal punching bag, it's not like I ever did anything, he was always just like that, trying to target me in any way he could, finding flaws and running with them.

He acted like an immature teenager, throwing paper balls at me just to spite me, he was disrespectful, always invading my personal space. I was sick of it, I came close to just punching him in the face multiple times and he loved it, he loved the reactions he got out of me.

One day, I got invited to one of his friends parties at their mansion. It was gonna be quite a big party, filled with hundreds of people I didn't know. My friends were going and I decided to not let Tom dictate my night, wanting to have fun without him disturbing it like he always did. I got dressed, wearing a skimpy red dress that accentuated my curves, paired with some black louboutins. I chose a simple makeup look and straightened my hair, keeping it down.

We arrived quite late, walking inside the mansion and admiring the interior design, walking outside where everyone was. We were greeted by the host and given some drinks, the music blasting in our ears and the smell of alcohol wafting through the air. We looked around to see a majority of people in the pool, splashing around and having fun, the cool night air breezing against our skin.

He was in the garden, talking to some friends. He was already quite drunk, wearing a white t shirt with some random band on it, dark blue baggy jeans and a leather jacket. He had a cigarette in one hand and beer in another, taking occasional drags from his cigarette, blowing the smoke into the night sky.

I walked over to the cooler, I had already finished my drink and rummaged through it, finding bottles upon bottles of beer until I spotted a seltzer can, I grabbed it and cracked it open, taking a small sip.

Toms eyes caught me from across the yard. He muttered something to his friends before saunting over, his movements confident and purposeful. He stopped a few feet away, eyeing the rink in my hand with a smirk. I was with my friends, they just settled with the beer and we started to talk.

Tom interrupted my conversation, his voice loud over the music, "not drinking tonight?" he teased, tipping his beer bottle towards my seltzer. His tone was mocking, as if he didn't believe I'd have the self control, "or are you on a special diet?" he pouted sarcastically.

I rolled my eyes and looked him up and down, "fuck off Tom, go back to your deadbeat friends, I'm sure they'd love your company right now," I winked, making a blowjob motion in my mouth, with my tongue, my friends chuckling with me.

Toms face darkened, he stepped closer, towering over me. "You've got a smart mouth on you," he growled, leaning in, his voice low, "careful...it might get you into trouble.." he paused, his gaze flicking to my lips. I bursted out laughing, "aww I'm so scared, mr tough guy! Get the fuck out of here Tom," I turned back to my friends.

Toms hand shoots out, grabbing my arm and spinning me back around to face him. His grip is firm, almost painful, "you think this is fucking funny?" he sneered. "You think you're better than me?" he raised his voice, looking at my friends, a cold glare. "Hey! Don't talk to my fucking friends like that, have some respect!" I raised my voice back, shoving him off me.

He stumbled back a step, surprise flashing across his face before his expression hardened again. He took a step forward, crowding my personal space, I had to admit, he was kind of sexy when he was mad. "You push me..I push back.." he gave me a small shove, "you shove me, I shove harder," he said darkly.

I slapped him harshly across the face, the sound of the slap echoing, catching everyone's attention, "get the fuck away from me Tom!" I screamed. His head snapped to the side, for a moment he was stunned, his hand coming up to touch his reddening cheek. Then his eyes narrowed dangerously as he turned back to me, "you fucking bitch.." he grunted, his chest heaving with intense anger.

Without warning, Tom grabbed my waist and threw me over his shoulder, "you think you're fucking tough, huh? You think you can mouth off to me and get away with it? I don't fucking think so!" he yelled, marching inside the house as I kicked and screamed.

"GET OFF ME YOU BASTARD! FUCK YOU!" I kept screaming obscenities at him, clawing at his back and kicking his stomach, but he didn't budge, my blows to him were like tiny punches. He laughed at my attempts to escape and bursted into an empty bedroom, sitting me down on the dresser.

He stood in between my legs and looked down at me, his eyes burning with rage, "look at me.." he growled, grabbing my chin and forcing me to look up at him, "why do you have to be so difficult all the time, hm?" he said lowly. I scoffed and looked at him in disbelief, "you were the one that fucking started it Tom, don't start with that shit!" his jaw clenched, his hands fisting at his sides.

"I don't give a fuck whether I started it or not, you don't get to just slap me around whenever you feel like it," I furrowed my eyebrows, "and you don't get to taunt me whenever you feel like it, you're such a fucking hypocrite!" I raised my voice, I could physically feel the anger rising in me.

"Shut your mouth.." he hissed, grabbing my chin tighter, "oh fuck you Tom, shut your fu-" he silenced me with a brutal, passionate kiss, crashing his mouth against mine, his hands gripping my thighs painfully tight. He kissed me rough and hard, his teeth biting into my lower lip.

When he pulled back, we were both breathing heavy, chests heaving. "You fucking infuriate me.." he growled, "oh shut up you love it," I glared at him and smashed my lips into his once again, passionately kissing him, our tongues fighting for dominance.

He groaned against my mouth, his hands coming up and tangling in my hair. He kissed me back just as passionately, his anger morphing into desire. He grinded his hips against mine, showing me just how much he does 'love it'.

"You're such a fucking cunt..I hate you.." I grunted against his lips, he chuckled, "you hate me, I hate you," he muttered, his mouth moving to my neck. He sucked and bit at my skin, marking me, "but we both know you'd beg for me.." he smirked.

I rolled my eyes, "wipe that shit eating grin off your face, you're not smart," he chuckled and kept kissing my neck, trailing up to my jawline, "cmon baby.." he pouted, "stop fighting me, let me make you feel good.." he whispered in my ear, his breath hot.

I bit my lip and turned my head to the side, "mmmh...stubborn girl.." he moved his hands down my body, grabbing my thighs and pulling me closer to him. His grin widened, knowing it'd irritate me. He slid his hands under my dress and gently grazed his fingers over my panty covered pussy, letting his fingers drag along, teasing me.

"Tom.." I gasped, looking up at him, "that's it baby...relax.." he cooed, his voice filled with sarcasm. "Oh fuck you.." I reached my hand out and grabbed his bulge, squeezing it softly, "not so fun when it's being done to you, hm?" he inhaled sharply as I groped him, his hips jerking forward into my touch.

"Careful.." he warned, but his voice was strained with pleasure. He grabbed the straps of my dress and dragged them down my shoulders, letting them slip through my arms. He then reached behind me, gently gliding the zipper down, in one swift motion he took my dress off, revealing myself to him.

I was barely wearing a bra and panties, I had a black thong on and a skimpy lacy bra, my tits practically spilling out of my bra. "Fuck you're gorgeous.." he groaned, diving his head down and kissing my neck once again, leaving a new trail of hickeys.

"You walk around looking like that.." he spread my thighs wider, growling softly in my ear, "it's asking for trouble.." he trailed his kisses down to my collarbone, then my cleavage.

I gently pushed him back, grabbing his belt and sliding it off. My fingers focused on the buttons of his jeans, letting it fall down and pool at his ankles. His shirt followed soon after, I trailed my fingers down his abs, watching as he stood before me only in his boxers, his erection strained and his muscular physique on full display.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him in, using one of my hands to bring his hand to my wet pussy, "don't be afraid.." I smirked, my words laced with playfulness. "Mmmh.." he hummed, slipping a finger beneath my thong and into me.

He pumped in and out slowly, his thumb rubbing circles over my sensitive bud. "And what am I afraid of exactly..." he whispered, "of this...?" he added another finger, causing me to moan softly.

"Mmmh..good girl.." he praised. I used my free hand to trail it down his stomach to his lower belly, then to his boxers. I slipped my hand inside and found his hard cock, pulling it out and slowly jerking him off in time with his thrusts.

His eyes rolled back as I jerked him off, his hips rocking against my hand. He curled his fingers deeper inside me, fucking me with his hand as he toyed with my clit. "Fuck...fuck!" he panted, his free hand fisting on the dresser.

I leaned in and kissed him passionately, speeding up my movements on his cock, my hand rapidly gliding up and down his shaft. He groaned loudly and sped up his movements, rapidly pumping his fingers in and out of my needy pussy, curling upwards to drive me crazy, hitting that spot inside me that I loved.

"Mmmh!" I whined against his lips, we continued our movements together, getting each other off. The kiss got more passionate as things got more heated, our orgasms approaching rapidly. I felt a fire in my stomach, a burning sensation I desperately needed to satisfy.

I could feel his cock twitching in my hand, desperate for release, my pussy also throbbed against his fingers, my clit sensitive and aching. "You're so fucking sexy..oh fuck..gonna cum.." he grunted, his chest heaving, his hand on the dresser unfisting and coming to my thigh, holding onto me tightly.

I moaned and rolled my eyes back, my orgasm coming crashing down in time with his, he let out a low, guttural moan against my mouth, his hips jerking forward as he spilled into my hand. He rested his forehead against mine, breathing heavily, "bed..."he mumbled, lifting me and carrying me to the bed, throwing me onto it, "now.." he crawled up towards me, hovering over me.

I grabbed his face and kissed him passionately, I needed his lips on mine, forever. He kissed me back fiercely, years of pent up frustration pouring out. His tongue dominated mine, teeth clashing as he pinned me to the bed. He settled between my thighs, breaking off the kiss, his chest heaving as his fully erect cock pressed against my core.

He moved his hands down and yanked my thong off, then moving to my bra. He practically ripped my bra off, grabbing my tits and squishing them together, shoving his face in them, licking and sucking relentlessly, "so good..fuck..these perfect fucking tits..oh god.." he groaned, licking and sucking my nipples rapidly.

"Please fuck me.." I whined, my hands roaming around in his hair. He kept feasting on my chest, his mouth and hands everywhere at once. He licks and bites at my supple mounds, his calloused fingers pinching and rolling my hardened peaks. He pulled back, his eyes hungrily taking in my heaving chest, "look at you..so desperate for my cock...hm? Aren't you?" he growled.

When I didn't answer he reached up, his hand fisting in my hair and pulling on it, bringing me close to his face. "Aren't you?" he repeated, his voice raised, I nodded eagerly and whined, "please...give me your cock Tom, stop fucking teasing!"

He chuckled and spread my legs, hooking his arms in my thighs and pulling me closer, his tip prodding at my entrance, waiting impatiently. With a grunt, the thrusted forward, burying himself inside me in one smooth motion.

"Holy fuck!" I gasped, he didn't give me time to adjust, immediately starting to piston in and out of me at a brutal pace. He grips my thighs hard, his fingers digging into my flesh as he fucked me mercilessly, "TOM!" I yelped, holding onto him tightly, my tits bouncing wildly as his thrusts kept increasing.

He grinned wickedly, loving the way I reacted to him. He leaned down and kissed me hard, swallowing my cries as he continued to pound into me. "You take me so well.." he groaned, his hands squeezing my backside. I whined and kept kissing him, I could almost feel him in my throat.

He suddenly flipped us around so I was on top, he sat up against the pillows of the bed and grabbed my ass tightly, lifting me up and slamming me onto his cock repeatedly, I rolled my eyes back, the intense pleasure causing my body to shake.

"I can't take it! Too much!" I cried out, his eyes darkened and he thrusted harder, "you're going to take, every. single. inch." he said, his words in time with his thrusts. "Understand?" he whispered sadistically, I nodded and whimpered, my legs trembling uncontrollably.

He smirked arrogantly, knowing he was overwhelming me, but he loved it, he loved how I fell apart against him. He continued to lift and drip me onto his lap, his powerful arms handling me with ease. "Touch yourself...touch that sensitive clit baby, show me how much you love this cock stuffed inside you.." he grumbled, guiding my hand down.

"I've waited so long for this moment, everytime I see you I can't stop thinking about how fucking hard I'd make you take my cock..the sounds you'd make.." he whispered against my skin.

I rubbed shaky circles on my clit, my mouth slightly agape as I felt my orgasm rapidly approaching, I was being sent into a state of pure ecstasy, my vision going blurry. "Cmon, cum for me baby!" he yelled, placing his hand over mine and speeding my hand up, "FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!" I moaned loudly, my pussy clenching around his cock tightly as my orgasm came crashing down.

He groaned loudly "this pussy is so fucking good, fuck!" he slammed me down one last time, burying himself to the hilt as he exploded inside me, cum leaking down my walls. He held me tight, his face buried in my neck as he rode out his high.

"Oh my god...fuck..." he panted, "that was amazing.." I whispered, my chest heaving as I tried to calm down. After a while of settling down, I got up, my shaky legs walking over to find my clothes, as I went searching I caught a glimpse of myself, something on my neck.

I turned to look, my eyes widening as I saw my neck and chest were FULL of hickeys. "Hickeys? Seriously Tom, what are you, 12?" I groaned, running my fingers over them, he chuckled and came up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and inspecting them, "fuck..I did a number on you didn't I," he pressed a soft kiss to my shoulder, "oops.." he mumbled.

"Lets get out of here, yeah?" he turned me to face him, his eyes softer now. I nodded softly and gathered all my clothes, sitting on the bed to get dressed. He put his clothes back on, adjusting himself and taking my hand, guiding me out of the party.

tags: @ballhair @bills-wife-1 @bkaulitzlover

tags: @ella1289 @billsdolliest @tomscumdoll

tags: @tomsfuckdoll @tomkslut @miyukafujii

tags: @itsangelll

[tkaulitzz]

HI OK SO

I LUUUUV UR BILL ACOUNT SO MUCH theyre so well written 🙏🙏 but i was wondering if you could do a dom!tom fem!reader smut where hes like the readers german tutor n the readers like all flirty with him when she first meets him ykwim

YOU DONT HAVE TO DUH and sorry if its not specific enough but yopsdhkjsdlsjd yeah😭😭

ILY AND UR WRITING MWAH x

𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭

more like this on wattpad @/b_kaulitzz ;) (ok not rn bc this my lit first tom wattpad)

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info/cw: fem x dom!tom, bj (m! recieving), praising, degrading

synposis: you’d do anything to get out of doing german homework

a/n: NOT PROOFREAD. also to requester, i changed plot up a bit, I HOPE YOU DONT MIND…i was having horrible writers block

more under cut :)

I watched as the door cracked over, my eyes meeting his brown eyes. "Hey, Tom, " I gave a small smile as he exchanged one back. He raised an eyebrow as his eyes moved lower through my body, undressing me in his mind. I bit my lip as I tugged at my skirt, keeping my eyes on his. "Tom?"

"Oh...sorry. Come in, " He looked back into my eyes, a slight pink tint washing over his face. I snickered as he took a step aside, opening the door more. "I'm helping with German, right?"

"Mhm, " I stepped in, watching as he closed the door behind me. His eyes scanned over me one more time before shuffling past me.

"Over here, " He spoke. I watched as his jeans dragged against the shiny floor. The wood floors reflected a slight yellow hue from the ceiling light. I followed behind him, my platform heels clacking against the ground. I sighed, holding onto the strap of my tote bag as I watched him pull out two chairs from his dining table. I took a seat next to him, placing my bag on the glass table.

"Tom?" I looked over at him as I reached into my bag, pulling out the German textbook. He hummed in response, taking a seat next to me. "You know, you're a sweet boy, right?"

"I am?" He raised an eyebrow. I nodded, pulling out the worksheets that were stacking up as days went by. I needed this credit, badly. But, I'm not gonna be the one to do it. I shuffled in the cushioned seat, sitting up.

"Yes, you are, " I turned to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. I could see his dilated pupils from here, he was so easy. I bit my lip as I felt the painted design of his jacket sleeve under my palm. "You know how I'm struggling for this credit right?"

"Yea?..."

"And, you know. That one time in math when I helped you, " I tilted my head, rubbing his forearm. He furrowed his eyebrows.

"You did?"

"Well...besides that..." I pressed my lips together as I looked away for a bit. Damn it, maybe he's smarter than I thought. "Could you do my work, please?"

"What?? I can help you but I'm not doing your work, " His face twisted, pulling the textbook over to his side.

"Tom, please?..." I pleaded, watching him turn to the book.

"It's not that hard, come on, " He took one of the worksheets and looked over it.

"Fine...I guess you didn't want a reward, " I sighed as I took out a pen. He kept his fingers on the worksheet before looking at me again.

"Reward?..."

"Yea...I guess it doesn't matter, " I shrugged, clicking the blue pen. I grinned to myself, watching his face twist again.

"No, tell me, " Tom placed the paper down, crossing his arms. He sat back, his legs spreading as he narrowed his eyes. I felt a lump form in my throat, looking from the chandelier above the table and to him.

"It doesn't matter, " I pulled the worksheet over to my side. Shit, I should've just let him tutor me. I shuddered, feeling his lips gently brush over my ear lobe. I could feel his grin, watching his hand enter my vision to take hold of my hand that held the pen.

"Tell me, " He spoke softly into my ear, taking the pen from my hands. My palms grew sweaty as my heart raced. He sat back again, crossing his arms with the pen in his grasp.

"It's nothing, Tom. Let's just do this lesson, " I turned back to him, reaching out for the pen. He raised his hand, holding the pen up high. I stood up, regretting packing only one pen. He leaned back slightly, this fucking idiot. I grit my teeth, placing a hand on his chest as I try to reach for the pen.

"Oh, so now you wanna do the lesson?" He snickered, continuing to hold the pen out of my reach.

"Tom, give it back, " I scoffed, leaning closer to him.

"Only if you tell me."

"Tell you what?" I groaned, taking hold of his wrist. He snickered and I widened my eyes as I felt his breath on my chest. I felt my face heat up as I fell back onto my chair. He held a proud smirk on his stupid face, spinning the pen in his hand. "Perv!"

"And you're not?"

"What are you talking about?" I looked away, folding my arms over my chest.

"What was the reward?" He leaned over, pushing the tip of the pen under the strap of my top. His eyes followed my pen as he moved it down my skin. I shuddered as I snapped my head toward him.

"Do the worksheets first, then I'll show you, " I glared at him, licking my top lip. He played with his lip ring, looking away to think. My body grew less tense as he leaned back, taking a worksheet. I sighed, watching as he filled out each question. I slowly slid off my chair, this better be worth it. I crawled between his legs, looking up at the confused expression that formed on his face through the glass. I sat up on my knees, sliding my fingers to his bulge. My fingertips went against the threading of the folds of his jeans. He smirked to himself as he felt me undo his jeans, sliding down the zipper. I looked up at him from time to time, digging my nails into the denim to pull them down.

"You're not serious are you?" He reached down, taking hold of my lower jaw. I swallowed the lump in my throat, the feeling of his rough callous thumb pressed into my cheek. He raised his eyebrows. "Oh, you're serious, " He watched as I slid my fingers under the start of his boxers. He shuddered at the cold feeling of my nails hitting his skin as I tugged at his boxers. He didn't seem to mind as he pulled away, working on the worksheet again. I pulled down his boxers, watching his cock swing out. I didn't mind either, he's the only tutor I'd do this to. I bit my lip as I wrapped my hand around his length, hearing his stuttered breaths. I slowly stroked him, feeling him harden in my hand before looking up at him. He kept his breath steady with small hicks and I leaned in, kissing his tip. I moved my free hand down between his thighs, pushing them apart as I continued to stroke him. Tom let out a small groan, tightening his grip around the pen. I spat on his tip, spreading my saliva down the base as I watched a vein protrude out of his arm. I smirked to myself, continuing to stroke him to lubricate his cock. The lewd noises between my hand and his cock only caused my heart to race more.

"Is that okay?" I asked innocently, fluttering my eyes as I leaned close. I kissed his tip again, letting saliva slide down it.

"Keep going, " He kept his eyes on the paper. I licked his slit before wrapping my lips around his tip. He grunted, feeling me hallow my cheeks. I stroked the rest of his size as I slowly moved my head down his length. I held his inner thigh, closing my eyes as I continued to move my head down. I gagged as his tip hit the back of my throat, furrowing my eyebrows. He breathily moaned, as I slowly bobbed my head. "Just like that...for the A, " He hissed, moving a hand behind my head as he answered questions with his other hand. I hummed into his cock, causing him to let out a satisfied groan. I opened my eyes, my vision blurry from the tears forming. Tom's jaw hung low as his eyebrows curved inward. "Fuck...you want an A, right? Use that mouth, right, " He strained out, placing the pen down. I gagged as he held either side of my head, moving my mouth down. My nose hit his lower stomach as I looked up at him, hallowing my cheeks still. He pulled me off, allowing me to breathe as his chest heaved up and down. His forehead formed sweat, and the angle of him from down here caused me to clench my thighs together. I panted before licking his tip again. "Yea, you want that A, don't you?"

"Mhm, " I let out a small whine as I swirled my tongue around his tip. He chuckled, taking hold of his cock to press his tip against my tongue.

"You're so pathetic, " He slowly slid his size into my mouth. My panties only became more soaked from his power over me. I hallowed my cheeks, keeping eye contact as my eyes watered again. His tip hit against my throat, causing him to let out a satisfied sigh. "Use that pretty mouth if you want your worksheets done, " He bit his lip, using my head to his pleasure. His breath caught in his throat as he continued. I whined into his cock as I moved against his steady rhythm, my eye makeup slightly ruined from the tears. "Just like that, good girl, " His chest continued to heave, pulling away once I learned the rhythm. Tom let out a guttural moan, keeping his focus on the worksheet. I looked up at him for approval as I worked my mouth on his cock, bobbing my head quicker. He moved a hand back down, caressing my forehead with his thumb as he worked. He groaned, lowering his head as he tried to write. "Fuck-- just like that, pretty girl, " He hungrily moaned. I breathed heavily through my nose, slowing down as I grasped his cock again. His tip poked into my cheek as I slowed down, barely enough for him to feel. I tasted the gloss from my lips that smeared around his cock. He looked down at me again, his harsh look sending chills down my spine. I felt my stomach turn, feeling his grip on my wrists as he began to thrust into my mouth. “I don’t think you wanna pass.”

“I do, I do, ” I muffled as I leaned back, sucking on his tip. He pulled me closer by my wrists, causing me to wince. His face was flushed, and my lips were swollen. My jaw stung as I hallowed my cheeks again.

“Yea? Then act like it, ” He bucked his hips once I parted my lips. Husky moans left his lips, each thrust matching his moans. He closed his eyes, thrusting deeper into my mouth to feel every inch as he groaned in satisfaction. I rubbed my thighs together, muffling moans around his cock from the friction. “Good girl, ” He struggled to let out as he threw his head back, continuing to thrust into my mouth. I clenched my fists, moving my head against his thrusts as I felt his cock throb. “Keep it up-- and all of your worksheets-- will be done, ” He dragged out his moans, quickening his thrusts. I gagged at each thrust to the back of my throat. Tom cursed under his breath, taking hold of the back of my head, and pushing me down as he released. His groan was followed by a hoarse moan. I slightly choked, swallowing the warm liquid around his cock. I pulled off with a pop, drool running down the corner of my lips as I leaned back in. He panted, looking down at me as I licked the cum around his base.

“Did I do good?” I breathed heavily, feeling him let go of my wrists. I held myself up from the cold tiled floor, licking the corner of my lips. He nodded in response with a smirk, looking back at the piece of paper.

“I barely did though, ” Tom puffed his cheeks, as he only answered three questions.

——————

© t/bkaulitzz :( ; dont steal

tom kaulitz, kaulitz, smut, kaulitz twins

[lyss-111]

guys i just came

[munsonsduchess]

Goodness Gracious Great Balls of Fire

summary: on a girls night out you meet someone unexpected w/c: 1,708 warnings: mentions of cheating, alcohol consumption (drink responsibily), p in v sex, oral (f receiving), mentions of the word pussy and cock, taking a stranger home a/n: so the bar mentioned here does actually exist, it's called Ballie Ballersons and they have locations in london and edinburgh and it's a lot of fun on a night out. we're also suspending disbelief and saying that there is no cost of living crisis and it's entirely capable for two people to rent a nice flat in central london and be able to y'know eat and go on nights out and stuff

(moodboard by me)

It hadn’t been your idea to go out tonight. You’d planned for a nice quiet evening on the sofa, the whole flat to yourself since Emma had gone to the fringe following some lad she’d met in a bar who she’d become besotted by. 

You’d settled in and had been browsing for somewhere to order dinner from when the group chat light up and sent out the bat signal. Lucy’s awful boyfriend, who you’d never liked anyway, had dumped her over Snapchat as it turns out he’d been seeing someone else on the side the entire time. So you’d abandoned the sofa, got dressed according to what everyone else was wearing and jumped on a train. 

Which is how you found yourself in a ballpit in a bar in Shoreditch. You’d all had neon face painting done when you arrived, matching of course, and someone had booked a VIP table which you were immensely grateful for, your shoes were cute, not practical and standing all night was not on your agenda. It wasn’t on anyone’s agenda really, especially since Denise had already pre booked an Uber home for everyone announcing to the group chat via voice message that the mission for tonight was to get as legless as possible as quickly as possible. 

Some of the girls had all congregated together before coming out and done pres but you’d insisted on eating something first. There was no way you’d survive the night without lining your stomach first. The days of being able to go out drinking all day and all night and still show up for an 8:00am class were very much behind you now.   

»»————-　♡　————-««

As the DJ blasted out “Dancing Queen” you’d all ended up downing your drinks for a group selfie and dancing in the larger mirrored ball pit. It was turning into one of those nights where you hadn’t planned on being out but you knew it was a great decision to answer the call. 

You were looking around for your group, trying to find someone and let them know you needed the loo when your cute, practical shoe stood on a rogue ball and you ended up laying flat on your back amongst the rest. It didn’t hurt and you were just laughing to yourself, of course you’d be the one who ended up falling over. 

As you tried to right yourself you couldn’t quite get your footing, little bit tricky when you were tipsy in a ball pit. That’s when you saw a man’s hand being offered to you, you grabbed hood gratefully and felt yourself being pulled up. Once upright you came face to face with a boy your own age with unruly curly hair and honestly the brownest eyes you’d ever seen,

“Y’alright?” he asked smiling, “I saw you go down, figured you could use a hand”

“I’m good thanks, couldn’t quite get my footing under there” you laughed, he was cute so you figured there was no harm in flirting a little. Although you couldn’t quite place his accent, you’d ask about it later maybe if you remembered,

“It’s a bit tricky” he smiled back, “are you out by yourself?” 

“There’s a group of us, somewhere” you scanned the ball pit and saw Jess at the far end chatting to one of the bouncers, “bit of a crisis in the group chat this evening so we all headed out” you we’re about to say something else when the boy spoke again,

“Can I buy you a drink?”

“Please”

“I’m not usually this forward, I just thought you were stunning and my mate kept telling me I should talk to you and stop being a wimp”

“Well then I guess it’s my lucky night” 

You both introduced yourself, the boy’s name being Tom from Cornwall who was up in London staying with some friends for a while.

You left the ballpit, gesturing to Jess on the way out that you were with Tom so if anything went pear shaped at least you knew someone would be able to come and save you. Or if things went well that someone knew you were gone and who you were gone with. 

»»————-　♡　————-««

With the rest of the girls on the dance floor or in the ball ours the booth you’d booked was free for you and Tom to sit and chat and get to know one another. You talked about the usual things, where you lived, where you worked, where you went to school. Then previous relationships came up and you noticed Tom seemed to not be as comfortable,

“I’ve not really seen anyone in the last few years. It’s all been causal y’know” he said, “just feeling my way” 

“Did something happen to you then?” you couldn’t help but ask, Tom seemed like a nice enough guy so you couldn’t imagine why it would be hard for him to find someone who wanted to be serious 

“Yeah. Things ended with the girl I’d been with for three years, I loved her but she didn’t love me back” he said with a sad smile,

“That’s awful. Well, her loss is my gain” you grinned moving closer to  him, “I mean, if you’re ok with running through London with a stranger” 

“Shouldn’t that be my line?” Tom laughed, his hand on your arm now

“You don’t seem so strange to me” by this point you were practically sitting in his lap, Tom didn’t seem to mind and closed the space between you kissing you gently, “let me find someone and tell them I’m not getting in the Uber home” 

“Sure. I’ll let my mates know the same thing” 

You found Amy first by the bar and let her know you were heading out. She laughed and demanded you put all the details in the group chat the next morning. She also made sure you were planning on keeping your location on. Just in case. 

—

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d been with someone where it felt this fun, like you weren’t worried about faking it to make it end quicker, telling the person you finished when you didn’t just so they’d leave. 

Being with Tom felt like a whole new experience. He took his time to learn the curves of your body. Kissing his way across your chest, along your stomach, he spent what felt like an hour between your thighs, his tongue, his mouth, felt like heaven. It really seemed like he was the type of man who got off on getting his partner off. 

Tom’s hands grabbed your hips as he practically ground your pussy into his face, his nose rubbing against your clit as he ate like a man sentenced to die would eat his last meal. 

You knew he was bound to be hard, you’d felt it pressing against you while you’d gotten the tube home but he made no effort to relieve himself in any way. By the third time you’d cum from his mouth and fingers alone you wondered if he wasn’t in pain from denying himself relief all this time. 

If you’d thought Tom’s skill began and ended with oral you’d have been sorely mistaken. After grabbing a condom from your bathroom he returned, oftentimes a man can look ridiculous standing bare with just a condom on but Tom didn’t seem to worry too much about how he looked. 

When he sank into you it felt just as good if not better than when he was going down on you. A lot of men put stock in how big they are, exaggerating on their size and prowess but again all Tom seemed to be focused on was making you feel good. 

The tip of his cock brushed against your g spot with every thrust. He laid kisses on every inch of you he could reach, it was almost like making love instead of just fucking. You could tell Tom was the sort of person who wanted to experience all kinds of intimacy and it was obvious in the way he paid attention to your needs, constantly asking if you were ok, if something felt good. 

It was honestly one of the best experiences you’d ever had. Tom also made sure that you’d cum multiple times again before he finished inside the condom. It was something you’d never experienced with a partner, only by yourself. 

Him coming back with a warm washcloth after he’d stripped the condom off in the bathroom was new as well. Honestly you couldn’t believe a boy like this was real. 

»»————-　♡　————-««

You woke the next morning and expected to feel someone else in the bed next to you but instead heard someone rustling about in the living room. 

After throwing something on so you wouldn’t flash the neighbours you saw Tom looking around your living room for something,

“Lost something?” You asked, leaning against the doorway,

“Sorry I didn’t mean to wake you. I can’t find my train ticket, I was gonna wake you when I found it” Tom said, looking sheepish 

“Oh. I mean. Yeah sure, but you know Uber eats delivers and I would murder an Egg and Bacon McMuffin. Unless you don’t want Maccas? We can go into town if you like” one the one hand you weren’t sure Tom would want to stay with you, he has told you last night he’d only been doing casual since his last relationship but last night felt … different so you kind of hoped he would. 

“Into town?” Tom asked, confused. 

“For breakfast” you smiled hopefully, you kind of hoped he was going to stay after all. 

“Actually, I’d murder a bacon and egg muffin myself” he returned you smile you honestly felt your stomach flutter at the prospect,

“That’s what I hoped you’d say”

It left you both with around thirty minutes to kill while the driver picked up your food and brought it around. When the knock on the door did come you both had to do your best not to laugh while the driver handed the food off to Tom and pointedly looked everywhere but at the very shiny lower half of Tom’s face. 

All in all a very successful night out but an even more successful morning after. 

Gonna tag the Eddie girlies incase anyone is interested:

Taglist: @pillow-titties @munsonology @thegirlblogstuff @boomhauer @prettyboyeddiemunson @hellfireeddie6 @that-lame-ghoul9000 @flashyourgreeneyesatme @anxiousstark @ruinedbythehobbit @winnifredburkleismyhero @manda-panda-monium @insertcoolnameherethanks @aftermidnightwriting @mcbeanzontoast @tiannamortis

[nottsangel]

— hp porn links ੈ♡˳ 16k celebration.

warning: 18+ only. these are twitter links that contain porn videos. these are not fics.

includes: theodore nott, mattheo riddle, draco malfoy, tom riddle, lorenzo berkshire, pansy parkinson, fred weasley, george weasley, ron weasley and harry potter.

nav . m.list . drabbles m.list

— THEODORE NOTT

brother’s bsf!theo fucking you in your room

sex with toxic!theo after a fight

dealer!theo fucking you in his car

bf!theo using you as a stress reliever

— MATTHEO RIDDLE

roommate!mattheo fucking you while everyone’s asleep

missionary with mattheo in his dorm room

bsf!mattheo helping you relax after a long day

classmate!mattheo fucking you against his desk

— DRACO MALFOY

enemy!draco fingering you in the bathroom

draco pounding into you from behind

dom!draco spanking you when you misbehave

draco sneaking into your dorm room late at night

— TOM RIDDLE

dom!tom fucking your throat

rough sex with tom after you’ve been needy all day long

bf!tom fingering you

tom waking you up in the middle of the night

— LORENZO BERKSHIRE

roommate!enzo fucking you in your room

makeup sex with bf!enzo after an argument

dom!enzo fingering you

reverse cowgirl with bsf!enzo

— PANSY PARKINSON

making out with bsf!pansy

gf!pansy eating you out

pansy fingering you in the bathroom between classes

sleepovers with bsf!pansy

— FRED WEASLEY

bsf!fred eating you out

morning sex with roommate!fred

bf!fred fucking you after you flirt with someone else

riding fred’s face after a stressful day

— GEORGE WEASLEY

bf!george breeding you full

baking with bsf!george

morning sex with roommate!george

george fucking you raw after you pull the condom off

— RON WEASLEY

jerking off sub!ron

riding classmate!ron after class

ron fucking you against the wall

sleepy sex with bf!ron

— HARRY POTTER

needy harry fucking your thighs

missionary with harry

dom!harry fingering you from behind

shower sex with bf!harry

[c1nnam00n]

how it feels trying to find a fanfic/imagine about a fandom that’s dead and dry

[slytherinslut0]

tom riddle. | everyone has their vices

summary: tom riddle tells you he jerks off (and more) to relieve stress. just….in typical tom fashion.

word count: 2k

tags: 18+, suggestive content, so much tension you’ll choke on it, frustrating subliminal tom riddle (though reader is just as stubborn), flirting, masturbation insinuation, make out sesh.

"But how?”

Tom inhaled sharply, the muscles in his jaw tightening as he prepared to reexplain for what felt like the hundredth time. "Because, the slightest distraction or doubt can result in consequence—as I said previous. A momentary lapse in any of the areas we covered will result in splinching."

You blinked, staring at him like he'd spoken an alternate language. The late night and the relentless focus on Tom's face for the past four hours had blurred everything into a haze and dulled his voice into a monotonous hum, blending with the soft rustle of parchment and the distant lapping of the lake against the window. He could see it—your disconnection, the way his words slipped past you like water through fingers.

He exhaled, slumping back in his chair, a hand raking through his dark hair in frustration. "Should we call it a night?"

"Probably," you muttered, your gaze drifting to the window behind him, the surface of the Black Lake rippling under the moonlight. "You've overloaded my brain. I stopped comprehending two hours ago."

You felt Tom's eyes narrow slightly as he studied you—you must have looked a mess. Strands of hair had fallen out of your ponytail, your uniform shirt was half undone, and there was a dullness in your eyes that spoke of more than just exhaustion. A week bedridden with the flu had set you back, and now, despite Tom's best efforts, you felt like you were drowning.

He knew you were stressed beyond measure—you were normally not like this.

"You need to relax," he said, the words landing with the flatness of an undisputed fact. "You won't retain anything in the state you're in."

"How can I relax when I'm two weeks behind? And exams are next week?" Your voice cracked with the weight of your frustration as you leaned your elbows on his desk, burying your face in your hands. "I'm helpless, Tom. I know you know it."

"Would I be sitting here wasting my time if I thought you were helpless?" He watched you, almost clinical in his intensity as he spoke—tone matter-of-factly, devoid of any false comfort. It cut through your despair with ease. Tom Riddle never did anything without purpose; if he was here, it meant he believed you were worth the effort. "My suggestion is that you reset your brain," he continued, his voice steady like his fingers as he shut the textbook between you. "Take a walk. Have a cold shower. Jump in the lake. Whatever you need to do to decompress."

The simplicity of his suggestions almost made you laugh, but it was the kind of laughter that would easily turn into tears if you let it. Tom had a way of stripping everything down to its most basic form—of cutting through your stress and chaos and presenting you with a simple, unvarnished answer.

You were a mess, and he was telling you to fix it—no coddling, no pity, just a clear-eyed assessment of the situation. And somehow, that was exactly what you needed to hear. You appreciated him for it.

"Decompress, huh. I don't believe I've ever done such a thing." You leaned back in your chair with a lopsided grin, arms crossed. "Is that what you do? Jump in the lake?"

Tom let out a huff, the corners of his mouth twitching upward in what was almost—almost—a smile.

"Something like that."

Interesting—Tom Riddle, always so composed, every inch of him meticulously put together, as if the mere idea of stress was a foreign concept. You couldn't imagine him spiralling, not the way you did—frankly, you couldn't imagine him ever feeling overwhelmed at all.

The curiosity gnawed at you, wondering what he did to unwind—what rituals or habits did the untouchable Tom Riddle indulge in when no one was watching?

"Something else, then?" You pushed it further, gently, your eyebrow arching just slightly.

For a moment, his gaze flickered, something dark and inscrutable passing behind his eyes. You knew he was considering your words, debating whether to indulge your curiosity or keep you at arm's length. Such a fascinating creature he was—all brick walls and boarded windows—you had a feeling he was going to shut this down.

Until, he leaned forward.

"If you're asking if I have habits—I suppose I do," he said, your eyes drawn to the way his lips moved, the way his voice curled around each syllable. "Habitual things I do to—relax, let's say."

You hummed and pulled your lower lip between your teeth as you considered him—fighting to hide your amusement. That was the biggest personal moment you've had out of Tom Riddle since the day you met him in first year where he told you his name.

"Well, isn't that a revelation," you teased, toying with the edge of your skirt. "Just the mere insinuation that Tom Riddle has to do something to relax—as though he's not always cool, calm, and collected like he lets on."

His lips curled slightly at your words, his gaze dipping briefly from your eyes to your mouth, trailing lower in a slow, deliberate sweep that brushed over your chest before landing back on the desk.

Your brain buffered, tingles in the wake of his wrath. He picked up his quill, spinning it idly between his fingers. 

"Everyone has their vices—if they don't, they end up like you," he said, his tone laced with an ambiguity that made you wonder just how deep his ran. "Perhaps it's time you found some."

You scoffed, leaning further back in your chair, the fabric of your shirt pulling tighter across your chest. You forced yourself to ignore the visceral reaction your body had as you caught the brief flicker in Tom’s gaze—the way his eyes darted up to the movement before he quickly masked his expression.

For a moment, you thought you might be imagining things, but the tensing of your thighs betrayed a reaction you couldn't quite shake.

"And what are yours?" You asked after a moment, your voice softer now. Tom Riddle was many things, but he was not a conversationalist—and yet here he was, indulging your curiosity instead of shutting it down. He was humouring you, and you intended to make the most of it. "Decompressing with bland tea and ancient tomes? Sneaking into the Restricted Section when no one's looking?"

“Mm, no.” Tom let out a snort, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips— "I’d say my vices are less...pedestrian, than all that."

The quill in his fingers stilled—the change in his demeanour was subtle, though you felt it in the air—electric, making your pulse quicken. He traced the edge of the feather with the tip of his thumb, the motion slow and deliberate, and you found yourself inexplicably distracted, fighting the urge to shift in your seat.

Why in Merlin's name was that so damn captivating?

"Less pedestrian?" You echoed, curiosity at an all-time-high. "What do you do, then, Tom? Dance naked by the light of the full moon?"

"I should hope not," he laughed—a low, rumbling sound that resonated in the pit of your stomach as you giggled alongside him. The quill twirled again in his fingers, the motion languid, almost hypnotic. "No, I'd say my vices are more...private. Less suited to polite company. Perhaps I should let you guess since the mystery of it seems to fascinate you so."

The look he gave you made you stiffen, a challenge—no, a dare—clear in his deep, dark eyes. Your thighs involuntarily reacted again—less suited to polite company?

"I believe I've already made several guesses," you tried to compose yourself with a shallow inhale. "I'm quite at a loss."

He shook his head, stifling his grin. "Clearly, you lack imagination."

"Clearly, you enjoy being cryptic." You shot back, unable to stifle yours.

At that, he hummed—it was obvious your stubbornness was as entertaining to him as it was aggravating. Perhaps you could say the same. He set the quill down, his eyes on yours as the fingers of his free hand began to tap idly on the desk—and then his gaze dipped again, tracing the curve of your lips before drifting lower, a slow, deliberate path that made you tense.

For a moment, you wondered if the tension in the air was all in your head. Was he always this adventurous with his eyes?

"When the mind is under strain," he began, his voice smooth, clinical, "it's a result of an excessive influx of neural signals. Synapses misfire, disrupting cognitive function. A basic physiological response." He watched your reaction closely, as though gauging the impact of his words. "To address such a state, one must reestablish control over these neural pathways. To be direct, I find the most efficacious methods involve tasks that stimulate the senses without being emotionally or physically taxing. A simple, repetitive action can suffice—something arbitrary enough to encourage the subconscious to lose focus."

You fought the urge to scowl at his change in speech—Tom knew damn-well just how overwhelmed your brain was—and then continued to recite scientific jargon as if it were his full-time occupation.

You’d almost be mad if it weren’t for the fucking words that stuck to the inside of your ears—stimulate, repetitive, lose focus—

"You're a walking textbook, aren't you?" You continued to play it off—you didn't want to make assumptions—you hated the way he danced around the edges of things, never quite saying what he meant. "Be specific."

Tom's grin grew as he leaned in slightly, his fingers stilling on the desk between you. "I find tasks that involve the hands particularly useful. Something that can be repeated in a smooth, steady rhythm, with little conscious thought required. The ability to lose oneself in the pattern is key."

Merlin help you—the atmosphere in his dorm had changed with those words; the air turned viscous, cloying, each breath sticking in your throat like syrup—hands, steady rhythm, lose oneself—the words pulsed with implication, even if it was buried under layers of his typical, infuriating ambiguity.

He was absolutely referring to—no—no assumptions—

You swallowed hard, your mouth suddenly dry. "So...knitting?"

The words tumbled out, a weak attempt at humour to cut through the tension, but they hung lifeless in the air—as hollow as the chuckle that rumbled from Tom's chest.

His eyes traced over you, lingering in a way that made your skin prickle. "Not exactly."

"Hm. A different kind of needlecraft, perhaps." You shifted in your seat, trying to inject a semblance of nonchalance into your posture.

But you weren't fooling him—you never had—

"How much longer are you going to play coy?" He murmured, the amusement clear from light-years away.

Heat surged up your neck, the flush burning across your cheeks, betraying you—"how much longer are you going to continue holding your tongue?"

Your voice came out sharper than intended, laced with a challenge you barely felt capable of meeting. You and Tom had always been cordial, the slight suggestive comment here and there, mostly from your end. But this—oh, this was different—this was uncharted territory.

He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous purr. "Would you prefer I do something else with it?"

Oh, fuck yes you would—

"You're being obtuse," you practically choked out, though the words lacked the bite you intended. "Entirely vague."

"I'm being clear," he countered, his gaze never wavering. "But you're being obstinate—willfully ignorant to my meaning because you refuse to acknowledge it without me saying it outright."

The air between you dissipated—you tried to grasp for a coherent thought, something to regain your footing, but your mind faltered, stumbling over the implications of what he was saying. His eyes never left yours—and you watched them deepen in colour, black pupils eating away the rich brown of his irises, darkening with something that made the room feel unbearably small.

You could feel the heat rising in your body, pooling low in your belly. How did he do this to you? How did he turn you inside out with nothing more than words and that infuriating, knowing smile?

"Tell me," you breathed, hating how desperate the words sounded, "what do you do with your hands, Tom?...how do you use them to relieve...stress?"

The second those words left your lips you realized what was truly happening here—Tom Riddle never did anything without intent—every word, every pause, every smirk, was a thread in a web he was weaving, intricate and inescapable. He'd led you here, gently, subtly, with the barest hint of force, and now that you were caught, you realized that you wanted this.

Needed it.

And it was clear he did too. Otherwise you'd never have gotten to this point—he wanted you to push, to dig deeper—your stomach twisting as you watched Tom wet his lips, but there was no smirk on them this time.

Only something intense—jaw set, eyes focused—

"I think we both know what I do with my hands," he whispered, the double entendre clear in every syllable— "you knew exactly what I was insinuating the moment this started."

Your breath snagged in your throat, a tremor running through your entire body as the warmth pooling in your belly began to spread, sinking lower, threading through every nerve. Your vision narrowed, centering entirely on him—his eyes, the curve of his lips, the way his presence seemed to devour the room, leaving no space for anything else.

And then, you nodded, the movement barely there—a subtle acknowledgment of your understanding.

"Do you touch yourself, Tom?..." the words escaped you, a soft, breathy whisper that you could hardly believe were your own. "Or do you touch someone else?"

For a heartbeat, everything seemed to freeze, suspended in the intensity of those questions.

The world narrowed to the point of his gaze, the sharp line of his jaw—the reality of where you were, what you were doing, almost seemed to blur—trapping you both in a moment that felt surreal, like a scene caught in the still frame of a film. Never—never—had you imagined a conversation like this with Tom Riddle, hardly your acquaintance, the untouchable genius of the school.

And yet here you were, heart pounding, every nerve on fire, and Merlin help you, you were going to wring every drop of this out for as long as you could.

He swallowed, and you watched the movement, entranced. "Depends on my level of stress."

Tom's expression was unreadable—except for the subtle tension in his shoulders as he leaned back, spreading his legs a fraction wider, the fabric of his dress shirt straining against the flex of his biceps—

"...and how stressed are you right now?" You whispered, reckless, without a trace of restraint.

Tom's throat bobbed with another swallow, a gesture so simple yet so charged that it sent your pulse roaring in your ears.

"Quite," he murmured, his voice taut, stretched thin. "The past four hours have been rather taxing—wouldn't you agree?”

A nervous laugh bubbled up, escaping before you could stop it. You tried to steady yourself, drawing in a slow, shaky breath. You had never felt so intensely aroused and frustrated in your life, and you knew, without a bloody doubt, that he was perfectly aware of it.

"Are you trying to imply l'm the cause of your stress?"

"On the contrary," he said, his gaze raking over you, his eyes dark and hungry, as if you were something to be consumed, devoured whole. "I'm saying you've exacerbated it. Though I'll concede a fair share of the responsibility—as it is mine, after all."

"How kind of you," you whispered, voice trembling with the effort to maintain composure. "To admit your own fault in the matter."

"I'm a kind man." His voice was a low purr, the kind that seeped into your bones, making your blood thrum with anticipation. "I like to take responsibility for my shortcomings."

Yes, yes—so very kind—

"Then take it."

The words left your mouth before you could second-guess them, a challenge thrown into the thick, suffocating air between you. The tension was a living thing now, colled tight, ready to snap, turning your insides into a churning mess of want and need.

Tom arched an eyebrow.

"Take it?" He echoed. "And what exactly do you want me to take, sweetheart?"

Sweetheart.

The pet name rolled off his tongue with a casual ease that sent a flush of heat straight to your core— the simple word wielded like a weapon, striking you down with its intimacy. There was no denying the power that name held over you, especially when coming from his lips.

"The responsibility..." you whispered, the words trembling as they left you, barely more than a breath. "…for your..." you hesitated, your eyes locked onto his as you finally said, "…shortcomings."

For a moment, everything hung in the balance—until, oxygen extinct, Tom leaned forward, closing the space between you until he was so close you could feel the heat radiating off him, mingling with your own.

Curse this fucking desk between you.

"My shortcomings," he repeated, his eyes flicking to your lips. "Is that all I should take responsibility for?"

"Are you suggesting..." you leaned in as well, the distance between you shrinking to a breath—your gaze drawn to his own mouth—the plush of it, how bad you wanted to feel it against yours, "...there's something else you wish to take responsibility for?"

Said mouth curled into the faintest hint of a smile and witnessing the shift this close felt dangerously religious—as though you'd experienced something sacred not many have before—part of you knew you did.

"Many things," he whispered, the sound soft as velvet, dangerous as a blade. "The list is long and varied..."

The heat in your body was painful—you had never been this close to him, never felt the full weight of his presence bearing down on you like this. His cologne—faint, rich, and so distinctly Tom—overwhelmed you, the same scent he'd worn since you first met him.

It was infuriating, how everything he did was so subtle, simple—yet so fucking intoxicating, so irresistible.

"...I'm not quite sure where to start." His eyes flicked back to yours.

Every word that fell from his lips was a new form of torture, his dark eyes pinning you in place, searing into you. The heat radiating from his body made you want to retreat, to find air, to find space—but the thought of putting any distance between you was unbearable, the need to be near him overriding everything else.

You'd rather lose consciousness than pull back.

"Why don't you start..." you whispered, tilting your head, your teeth grazing your bottom lip. "By fixing the insatiable ache in my curiosity...the one you created when you mentioned how you use your hands...to relieve stress..."

He exhaled, the sound rumbling from his chest like a growl and you could almost imagine that if he parted his lips, you'd glimpse fangs behind them right now—you'd never seen him like this—his gaze predatory, fucking ravenous, and it was as though he could devour you whole if he so chose to.

But you knew better. Tom Riddle would never be so crude. His methods of torment were deliberate—Methodical. A slow depletion of your senses until you're gasping for something only he can give you.

Then, in a voice that was all gravel and silk, he whispered, "is that all that's aching...your...curiosity?"

"Gods no—"

But you never finished that thought—because in an instant, his hand was tangled in your hair, pulling you forward with a force that sent you careening over the desk and into him—Tom Riddles lips crashed against yours, and it was like drowning, his tongue invading your mouth, stealing your breath and dragging all ounces of your cognitive ability along with it.

You were half out of your chair, caught in the gravity of him, unsure if your legs were even working, or if it was his grip alone that held you upright. His free hand found your wrist, pinning it to the desk as his mouth worked you with a fervour that made your head spin. The kiss was incendiary, a wildfire scorching its way through every nerve in your body, leaving nothing but ashes in its wake—the intensity of it, the sheer, unrelenting pressure of his lips on yours, made you wonder how you survived this long without it.

All the heat in your blood pooled low, deep between your thighs, an ache so profound it threatened to consume you. Tom Riddle was about to show you precisely how he used his hands to relieve stress, and Gods, if that wasn’t the only thing you’d ever needed right now.

[tsukimirecs]

SLYTHERIN // fic recommendations

note: remember to read the tags! + i do not own any of these works

REGULUS BLACK

le lendemain matin

the salt and the sea

forever

the better of two bad options

a pen

the door

the black heir

distraction

THEODORE NOTT

love is sour grapes

by netws & nott

something stronger

like snow on the beach

the only heaven i'll be sent to (is when i'm alone with you)

TOM RIDDLE

desiderium

love again

from the glue

salted caramel, metal, strawberries, vanilla, and ink

midmorning

effects of amortentia

DRACO MALFOY

our little secret

honeydukes

firsts

how could i ever forget?

makeup

draco malfoy with shy!male!reader headcanons

cherry juice

MATTHEO RIDDLE

the cat

puppy eyes

the game

rainy nights m.r

LORENZO BERKSHIRE

like nobody else

[tomssexdoll]

Forbidden Allure

PAIRINGS: Tom 2017 x Female reader

CONTENT: SMUT + FLUFF

SYPNOSIS: Tom was a well known gangster, the leader of his gang and feared by many in town. He was loud, violent and obnoxious around others but around Y/N he was charming, sweet and funny. One day he came into the bar she worked at, his charm finally working after a while, causing her to flee her shift early and going back home with him, despite the constant warnings from her coworkers.

A/N: if you want to be tagged or i accidently missed your tag comment on my pinned masterlist <3

WARNINGS: dom!tom, sub!reader, p in v (missionary), eating out, teasing, mentions of gangs and alcohol

Tom was apart of a gang, being the leader of said gang he was always loud, violent and obnoxious, feared by many in the town. He loved to ride his motorcycle down to the pub I worked at, his noisy engine always altering me of his presence and always flashing me a charming smile when he came in.

Although his ego was huge I couldn't help but feel attracted to him, he was hot after all, his muscles always on display when he crossed his arms, his sharp, masculine jawline on display even with his beard. His sharp, piercing eyes that always stared into mine. His plump, soft lips and his large, calloused hands, gripping his whiskey glass. He was quite older, I was 22 and he was 28.

My co-workers always told me to stay as far away as possible as I could from him, reminding me that although he was hot he was also a dangerous asshole who would probably get me killed or break my heart.

One day I was cleaning some glasses to make new drinks when he bursted through the door, his heavy boots thundering on the floor. His crew followed behind him, laughing and joking loudly. He spotted me behind the bar and winked at me, his grin wolfish. He sauntered up to the bar and slammed his hands down on the counter, making me jump a little.

"Welcome Tom..." I sighed, "what would you like today?" I put on a smile, masking my fear. "Same as always sweetheart," he said, his voice low and gruff. He leaned in close to the bar, his eyes never leaving mine, "whiskey, neat." His crew crowded around the bar, placing their orders with the other bartenders, but Tom's focus was solely on me.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of cash, peeling off a 20 dollar bill and tossing it on the counter "keep the change," his voice rough. "Way to flex your money," I rolled my eyes playfully, grabbing the bill and putting it in the till (that rhymed omg). He chuckled back, his eyes crinkling at the corners, "just taking care of my favourite bartender," he leaned back against the bar, his arms crossed over his chest, showcasing his muscles as he usually did.

He grabbed his glass of whiskey, taking a long sip, his eyes never leaving mine, "you look real good tonight sweetheart" I smiled and blushed, giggling nervously, "thanks tom..you do too," I answered, my heart pounding in my chest.

His gaze sharpened and he leaned in close, "I do, huh?" he said, his voice a low purr. His hand reached out and grabbed mine, pulling it toward him. "You know," he started, his thumb stroking the back of my hand. I blushed even harder, looking up at him, "yeah..?" I said softly.

"I think about you all the time..." he confessed, "about how soft your skin is.." his thumb tailed up my wrist, making me shiver. "About how sweet your lips look," his gaze dropped to my mouth. "I wonder what it would be like to kiss you.."

My eyes widened, my heart ready to jump out of my throat, "I uh..." I stammered over my words. "I'm just teasing you baby.." he chuckled, loving to see the affect he had on me. But the truth was, he wasn't just teasing me. He's been watching me for months, admiring from afar, he's seen how kind I am and how hard I work. How I light up the room with my smile, but I didn't need to know that, Tom kept it a secret, even from his closest friends and family.

Toms gang members walked over, teasing me and tom, "careful Tom, you're gonna kill the poor girl," one of them commented, he chuckled and put his hands up, "my bad, my bad" he took another long sip of his whiskey.

I focused my attention on other customers, taking their orders and pouring their drinks. He watched as I moved around the bar, my smile never fading. He loved how dedicated I was to my job, how different I was to the others, always being social and friendly with all customers, no matter how scary they looked.

He took one last big gulp, signalling to me for another one. I quickly walked over, pouring him another drink and sliding it to him.

As I cleaned the glasses, he caught my attention, sliding over an 100 dollar bill. "Consider it a tip," Tom said, "for being so damn sexy..." he winked at me, chuckling as my face flushed a colour of red. I nodded and tucked it into my apron, "thanks Tom.." I muttered.

I went on my smoke break, walking outside and lighting a cigarette, taking a long drag and blowing the smoke out into the cold night sky. Tom slipped outside behind me, "leaving so soon?" he chuckled, gently wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me into his side.

"I guess so," I giggled, "you know you shouldn't smoke, it's bad for you.." he said, his breath hot against my ear, my heart pounded in my chest, the tension building up. "I know.." I mumbled, looking up at him. His arm tightened around my waist, pulling me even loser. His body was warm against the cold night air.

"I can think of better things to do with your mouth than put a cigarette in it," he murmured in my ear, "and your body.." he smirked, taking my earlobe between his teeth and gently nibbling. My hands slightly trembled as I brought the cigarette to my mouth again.

His hand came to cover my mouth, his fingers pressing against my lips to stop me from bringing the cigarette back to my mouth, "no.." he said firmly, turning my chin to face him. "You're so beautiful..." he muttered, his eyes bored into mine, filled with a fierce intensity.

"So delicate..." he smirked, his eyes flickering down to my lips. Slowly he leaned in, his lips parting as they met mine in a soft, gentle kiss. I kissed back, deepening it and slipping my tongue into his mouth. His arms wrapped around me, pulling me flush against his chest as the kiss became more passionate.

His hands roamed over my back, my sides, my hips. When he finally pulled back he placed a soft kiss on my neck, "come back home with me baby.." he whispered against my skin. I nodded and walked over with him to his motorcycle, holding onto him tightly, not caring about the hours left of my shift.

He revved the engine of his motorbike, feeling my arms wrap around his waist, my body pressed against his. Feeling my heartbeat against his back as he held on tight. With a grin, he took off, speeding through the night streets.

We arrived shortly to his home, parking the motorcycle in his garage. He helped me off, taking my hand and leading me into the house. His movements confident and sure. As soon as the door was shut behind me, he was on me again, his hands roaming over my body as he kissed me deeply.

"Bedroom..now.." I whispered against his lips. He growled in approval, his arms tightening around me as he picked me up, carrying me to his bedroom. He quickly dropped me down onto the bed, his eyes never leaving mine as he began to unbuckle his belt. "You're so fucking beautiful.." he murmured, pushing me down and climbed on top of me, shedding my jacket off and throwing it aside.

He began to pepper kisses from my neck to my chest, his hands continuing to roam over my body, eventually unbuttoning my shirt and also tossing it aside, not caring where it ended up.

He took a moment to admire my body, quickly unclipping my bra and groaning at the sight of my bare tits, leaning down to kiss my chest, pushing my tits together and circling his tongue over my sensitive nipples. I could feel his erection pressing against me through his pants, practically begging to be let out.

"So beautiful..oh my god.." he grunted, sucking and licking my tits. "I need to eat you out..now..I need to taste your sweet pussy.." he groaned, frantically sliding down my body and pulling my pants down roughly, his face flushed, his breathing heavy as he finally got them off.

He buried his face between my thighs, his mouth hot through the fabric of my underwear, growling in frustration and ripping the material, exposing me to him. My pussy throbbed at his roughness, biting my lip softly. "Please..." I whined, growing impatient, he sensed it and chuckled, "oh don't worry baby, i'm just getting started," his tongue flicked out, tasting me, his eyes watching as I squirmed beneath him.

"You're so wet.." he groaned, his voice gravelly. He slid a finger inside of me, then another, pumping in and out as his mouth latched onto me. The pleasure heightened with every second he ate me out, loud moans escaping from my lips, my back arching, silently begging for more.

His fingers curved upwards, finding that sweet spot inside of me as he continued to suck on my clit. He could feel my body quivering underneath him and gripped my hips, holding me down as he feasted on me. My cries grew louder, my body bucking against his mouth.

I whined, my moans only growing louder, "keep going, so fucking good!" he smirked and doubled his efforts, his fingers slamming in and out of me, he could feel me getting closer to the edge, "cmon baby...that's it.." he encouraged, his voice muffled against my flesh.

My body was limp and spent but he showed no mercy, his mouth working tirelessly to draw out my orgasm as quick as possible, desperately needing my sweet juices. His fingers kept pumping inside me in a punishing rhythm, never stopping for even one second, my voice hoarse from screaming.

His tongue kept lashing out, flicking against my clit as he drank down my juices, he ate greedily, his stubble chafing my inner thighs deliciously. "Tom, please, it's too much!" I gasped, my fingers tangling in his hair, gripping tightly. The pain turned him on, only egging him on. "Shut up and take it..you know you fucking love it.." he grunted, diving back in and attacking my clit with vigor.

My legs shook violently as my orgasm crashed down, my cries echoing through the room. "That's it baby..." he chuckled, "come for me like the good girl I know you are.." he slurped up all of my ecstasy, moaning in delight.

"Now....time for the main course," he panted, his hands sliding down to his jeans, unbuttoning them and sliding them down his thighs, kicking them off as they reached his strong legs. He pulled me further onto the bed, letting my head rest against the pillows.

"You did so well for me.." he leaned down and kissed me passionately, letting my juices and our saliva mix. He pulled back, only to push down his boxers, his thick, throbbing cock springing out, precum leaking from his red tip.

"Ohhh fuck, look what you've done to me baby.." he chuckled darkly, lining himself up with my entrance and smashing his lips into mine again, letting our tongues dance as he slowly pushed the tip inside.

Toms hands gripped my backside, lifting me up as he slowly pushed inside. He ground his hips against mine, burying himself deeper with each thrust. He could feel me stretching around him, my warmth enveloping him. He swallowed my whimpers with passionate kisses.

He started to quicken his pace, his face buried in my neck, his breath hot against my skin as he pounded into me. His hands gripped my hips tightly, lifting me up to meet his powerful thrusts, slamming me up and down onto his thick cock.

The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mingling with my loud moans and his low grunts, "look at what you do to me, drive me fucking crazy every time you giggle when you serve me at the bar, you fucking tease" he moved his hand down and smacked my thigh, almost like he was trying to punish me.

My tits bounced wildly with each brutal thrust, his eyes glued to my bouncing breasts, his mouth watering at the sight. He leaned down, capturing one of my nipples in his mouth, sucking and biting as he continued to thrust into me, his other hand reaching up, squeezing and kneading my other breast.

I whined and moaned loudly, "oh my fucking god! Tom!" I practically screamed, holding onto him tightly, my back arching off the bed. His fingers dug into my flesh, holding me down as he slammed into me. His hips moved at a punishing pace, moving with a ferocity that left us both breathless. He could feel my walls tightening around him, my release slowly approaching, "so good...fucking take it all baby, take my thick cock," he hissed.

He kept feasting on my tits, absolutely obsessed with them, groaning lowly and destroying my pussy. His mouth moved to my other breast, his tongue swirling around my hardened peak. He lifted his head to watch as he continued to drive into me, his pace frantic, "look at how you take me.." he grunted, grabbing a fistful of my hair and forcing me to look at his cock sliding in and out of me so perfectly.

"Gonna cum!" I whined, feeling a knot form in my stomach, twisting and turning as my climax rapidly approached, he smirked and let go of my hair, reaching down and rubbing my clit furiously, watching as my eyes rolled to the back of my head, my orgasm crashing down, "FUCK!" I squealed, cumming on his cock, my juices spilling down his hard shaft.

His face contorted in pleasure at my tight pussy wrapping around his cock tightly like a snake, my inner walls milking him. He leaned down and buried his face into my neck his breath hot against my skin as he pistoned into me a few more times before stilling, his own release flooding into me.

"Holy fuck..." he said, breathless. His chest heaved deeply as he collapsed onto the bed beside me, collecting me in his arms and holding me close. "Oh you did so good...oh my god.." he panted, peppering kisses onto my forehead.

My head was hazy, I could barely keep my eyes open, he took notice of this and gently chuckled, pulling the covers over us, "get some rest honey...you did so fucking good.." he mumbled, closing his eyes with me and allowing himself to rest.

tags: @ballhair @bills-wife-1 @ella1289

tags: @bkaulitzlover @miyukafujii @billsdolliest

tags: @tomscumdoll @tomkslut @tomsfuckdoll

[tkaulitzz]

𝐖𝐡𝐨’𝐬 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 .𝟎𝟐

more like this on my wattpad @/b_kaulitzz

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info/cw: ANGST TO SMUT, fem x dom!tom, p in v, oral

synopsis: fixing things after your choice at a halloween party

PT. 1 HERE

more under cut :)

"Fuck, Tom. Just listen to me!" I closed the front door behind me as I watched him storm off, not bothering to turn on the lights. I cursed under my breath, sliding off my boots. The guilt drilled into my stomach as I felt up my fly that wasn't even fully zipped. I followed behind him as he threw the mask onto our leather couch. I groaned, bumping my hips into the armrest as I chased after him. "Tom, please."

"I don't wanna fucking hear it, " He grumbled.

His tone stabbed at me like broken glass pieces that I was stepping on. He swung open our bedroom door, peeling off his black cloak. I stayed by the door as he stood by the end of our bed, not daring to look at me.

"Tom..." I couldn't even explain myself.

He plopped onto the bed, his elbows propped up onto his knees. I bit my lip as he sat there, shirtless. It's so selfish of me, but who can blame me? Every time I saw his figure, it was like seeing him for the first time again.

"I don't wanna see your face, " He muttered, slightly shaking.

My whole body ached as if I had run a whole mile from the sight. I slowly stepped over, the soft carpet kissing my socks as if it were a runway for my bed. The mattress dipped under me as I sat next to him, gently reaching out to his shoulder. His skin was soft under my touch as his shoulder moved up and down. His heavy breathing matched my heartbeat as I leaned in.

"I love you, Tom. I really do, " My lips brushed against his knuckles.

He put his hands down, turning his face toward me. My breath hitched as I watched a tear roll off his cheek. I held his cheek, my face heating up from the sight. I could tell he wanted to give in, yet he kept his lips shut. My heart pulled at his as I wiped the tears rolling down his cheek. I leaned in, kissing the tears that I couldn't catch.

"You can't just come and try to make me forgive you, " He sniffled, turning his face away.

I kept my hand on his face, beginning to kiss his ear. I wouldn't forgive myself either.

"I'm not asking for you to forgive me, " I swiped my thumb over his cheek like I had never felt him a thousand times before.

I savored the way he felt under my touch, feeling my stomach turn. It only made me feel worse, remembering the way Bill's face felt. My thumb grazed over the beauty mark above his smile line. I swallowed hard before kissing his jawline.

"Then, what are you asking for? Are you proud of yourself?" Tom scoffed.

"What?- No-"

"Are you going to flaunt it? Did you have fun?" He turned to me with a clenched jaw.

"What?... That isn't the point-"

"Yea? Look me in the eyes and tell me that you regret it, " He grits his teeth, his tears falling into his lips.

I took a sharp inhale, shuddering. I stared into his eyes. Bill's eyes were so similar yet nothing like Tom's. He's all I ever want.

"I regret it, I didn't know, Tom. I thought it was you..." I felt my face heat up, looking away.

"What? You thought it was me?" He laughed in between, taking my wrist to throw it off of him. "You're fucking ridiculous, what kind of excuse is that?"

"Can you blame me? You guys wore the same costume, " I narrowed my eyes, turning back to him.

"Well, you didn't bother to check it was me!"

"I was angry, Tom! I wanted to take my mind off of things and I thought it was you, " I gripped the cotton bedsheets.

"Angry at what? Not fucking Bill enough? Is that what?" He threw his hands out.

"No! Listen to me!" I yelled, widening my eyes.

"To your fucking excuses?" He stood up, growling. I followed along, standing on my two feet.

"I'm telling you the truth!" I brought my hands to my head, watching him ball his hands up into a fist.

"The truth?? You really think I'll believe you after you went and fucked my brother!?" He stood across from me, his face red by now. My nostrils flared as I came close.

"You're so frustrating! All I'm asking is for you to fucking listen. You don't even have to forgive me. And don't act like you're innocent. I saw how you looked at Bill's girlfriend, " I snarled. His eyes grew wide as he let out a laugh.

"Yea? What way, huh?"

"You know what way, like the douchebag you are, " I pulled off my denim jacket, throwing it aside.

Fuck, I wish I hadn't said that. He doesn't deserve this. His cheeks were wet as he looked at me. My throat was already sore from screaming back and forth. I looked away, the guilt only settling more. Just looking at his face reminded me of Bill.

"Is that what you think of me?... A douchebag?" His voice grew quiet again.

I took a few steps closer, looking up at him as his eyes followed me. I held his face on either side, wiping his cheeks. My eyes welled up at the sight, he didn't deserve this at all. I sniffled as I stepped on my tippy toes, kissing his nose.

"No, my love. I'm sorry, I just-- I love you and I want to fix this. And, I'm just so frustrated with everything, " I kissed his chin, feeling him place his hands on my waist.

"I can't believe you... Calling me the douchebag?" He leaned down as he spoke, his breath tickling my face. I shivered, pressing my lips together. "A douchebag, right? That's all I am? Then, I'll act like one."

I furrowed my eyebrows, walking backward toward the bed as Tom pushed me.

"Now look me in the eyes and answer me, did you have fun?" He glared into my eyes as I yelped, falling back onto the bed. He climbed on top of me, his knees on either side of my hips.

"No..." I swallowed the lump in my throat as I kept eye contact.

Tom reached down for my face, swiping his thumb over my lips as he examined the messy lipstick. "Really?" He leaned down, lifting my face to give more access to my neck. His lips brushed against the purple marks that Bill left behind. "You didn't have any fun?"

"No, I didn't..." I closed my eyes, clenching my thighs together.

"Yea?" He spoke against my neck, beginning to kiss harshly at the marks. I couldn't tell whether he was more mad at me or Bill. I gasped, feeling his hands on my knees, roughly prying my legs apart. I grunted as he pulled me by the back of my thighs, my crotch hitting into his. "I know you loved it, didn't you?" He spoke down my neck, moving his harsh kisses down to my collarbone. I felt my stomach form butterflies as I kept my eyes closed.

"No, fuck... Tom, I didn't, " I whispered.

"Oh, you're quiet now. How good was he? Hm? Tell me, tell me all the places that I missed, " His voice was muffled as he spoke into my skin. I shuddered, feeling his hand slide under my shirt. "How about here?" He pulled down my bra which wasn't even clasped on properly. I arched my back to his warm touch, my breath hitching as he cupped my boob. "Yea? Like that? Does he know that you love it when you're touched like this?" He nibbled down at my collarbone, rolling my nipple between his fingers. I let out a small squeal, gasping after.

"No- no, Tom. He doesn't, " I placed a hand over his hand, my shirt separating us. He planted kisses up to my lips, harshly kissing them. I let out a whimper, feeling his wet face against mine. His piercing pressing into my lips, hard enough to create an indent at this point. He groaned softly into my lips, grinding his lips into mine. I arched my back into him, grasping his hand around my boob more. I furrowed my brows as I felt his tears flow down my face, his lips gently moving against mine.

His cologne filled my nose, it was just as intense as he was. My brows curved inward as I whimpered, Bill's smell still lingers in my nose. His smell was like a refresher, yet it was so hard to latch on to. Bill's smell clouded my head as my heart raced, remembering the way he held me. My stomach tightened, feeling Tom's hand slide down to the start of my pants. I muffled against his lips as he pressed them harder once more.

"You didn't even bother to zip your pants up, " He breathed out, sitting up on his legs. He looped his fingers between my jeans and skin, harshly tugging them down. I cringed at the way the denim peeled off of me, being sticky from my sweat. I watched Tom's hands as they worked, my heart pounding in my head. He threw my jeans over his shoulder, looking up at me. "Look at me."

I did so, pressing my knees together.

"Are you okay with this?" He licked his top lip. His eyes were slightly puffy, pulling at the string of my panties.

"Yes..." My fingers grew tingly as he kept eye contact, slowly pulling them down my legs. My chest was heavy as I watched him lean down, parting my legs again. Even when he was mad at me, he was so gentle. I didn't deserve him one bit.

"Did he kiss you here?" His fingers pressed into my flesh as he kissed my inner thighs. I shuddered as his breath tickled me, his eyes still on me. "Here?" He kissed my left inner thigh. I could suffocate with the tightness in my chest. I teared up, watching him continue to kiss around my thighs. He was so helpless. "Like this?"

"It doesn't matter, Tom. Just do what you would do, " I strained out. He shook his head as he lifted one of my legs over his shoulder.

"I don't think I'll please you, " He pressed a long kiss on my right thigh. I sniffled, my chest caving as I inhaled. It was so painful to breathe.

"You can, you can, " My vision grew blurry as a tear rolled down my cheek.

"Did he do this?" He trailed kisses to my folds, kissing over my clit. I ran a hand on his head, sniffling as I felt his bandana.

"Tom, please, " I shuddered, feeling him gently lick my clit.

"Did he?" His eyes were soft as he looked up at me from between my legs.

I shook my head as I sniffled, watching him sit up. He put a hand behind my head to pull me close. My lip quivered as he kissed my lips and I threw my arms over him. It felt so good. I wanted this. I really do. I breathed heavily through my nose as I felt his soft lips. The slight taste of beer from his lips danced across my tongue. I pulled him closer, whining softly as our lips welded. I shivered, feeling his rough calloused fingertips glide down my stomach. I let out a small sigh, feeling his fingers between my folds. He was so silent, that I didn't even notice him crying until his tears began to mix with mine.

"Right here?" He sniffled as his middle finger spread my wetness up to my clit. I let out an 'mhm,' continuing to kiss his lips. I felt Tom's lips, yet my eyes were closed. He pulled away, looking down at the sight in his hand as he slid a finger in. I laid my head over his upper arm, sniffling. I softly moaned, feeling him add another finger, parting my legs more for him. He slowly thrust his fingers, looking back at me. My lips were parted as I grinded into his touch, his skin glistened as he just stared. My brows knitted as he curled his fingers, circling his thumb on my clit. He looked so unsure, was I also unsure? I deliberately moaned, feeling his finger gently slide over my G-spot. I whined, rubbing his upper arm as he continued to miss it. "I'm only prepping you, " He hushed me, before kissing my lips again.

His kisses felt good enough. My breath grew shaky, his lips unable to keep up with mine. Was it me? Was I selfish for wanting more? I pulled away from the kiss, letting out a satisfied sigh as he stretched me.

"More, " I spoke softly. He furrowed his brows, but before he could continue, I took his wrist pulling him off. "Tom, " I looked up at him, pulling at the start of his black pants. He nodded, obeying as if he was just a toy for me. Tom slid off the bed, pulling down the black pants. I scooted to the end of the bed, tracing my fingers over the imprint of his cock through the boxers. I watched a teardrop roll down his body, growing smaller on its journey down. I applied more pressure on his cock, hearing his needy moans. I slid my hand into his boxers, pulling his cock out, and he pulled his boxers down more.

"Do you want me to do something?" He moved his hand to his tip as I wrapped my hand around his size. I shook my head, pulling his hand off. I leaned down, spitting on his tip. I moved my saliva down his cock, lubricating it as I kissed his tip. His skin grew goosebumps as he took a sharp inhale. I wrapped my already swollen lips around his tip, hallowing my cheeks as I twisted my hand. He let out a shaky moan as I slowly moved my hand down, stroking the rest of his size. I only hope that this could repay him. I gagged as his tip hit the back of my throat, slowly sliding my head back.

Focusing on the way he tasted was the only way I could distract myself from the guilt. I kept my eyes closed as I worked my mouth along his cock, listening to his satisfied groans. I pulled off with a pop, scooting back as I spread my legs. I beckoned him over, making him slowly crawl onto the bed. He positioned himself to my hips, lifting one of my legs. I took a sharp intake as he aligned himself, slowly entering. I clenched my eyes, digging my nails into the bedsheets. Tom bit back a moan as he held my thighs, slowly bottoming me out.

“Is this okay?” He looked down at me. I nodded in response, reaching out to wipe his tears. He leaned down, letting out low moans as he thrusted.

I watched his face as my jaw hung low, it was like he forgot why we were here, to begin with. That’s just how Tom is. He’s too sweet to push me over the edge. His sweet moans were accompanied by his sniffling as his head hung low. I threw my head back into the bed, keeping my hand on his face as I moaned.

“I’m sorry, Tom, ” I dragged out, beginning to tear up again. He grunted, closing his eyes as his forehead rested on my chest.

“Just be quiet, please, ” He slightly sobbed, his hips keeping a steady pace. I caressed his face, panting softly.

“I love you, ” I sniffled, soon being cut off by small moans as he rolled his hips. I grinded my hips into him, my stomach turning.

“Fuck-- do you really?” His tears staining my shirt. I felt my tears well up as I felt the warm droplets hitting my shirt occasionally.

“I do, I really do, ” I let out a high-pitched moan, gasping. My fingers moved down to his lips as I tried to keep hold of his pretty face. I repeatedly panted, feeling his thrusts quicken.

“Do you?...” His breathing became heavy as he moved his hips against mine. Each thrust matched our breathing. My face heated up as I felt him. The air was so thick with tension and our smells.

“I love you more than anything, ” I slightly wept, watching him look up. He slowly came up as he breathed heavily, my head moving against the bed as he thrusted. I closed my eyes, feeling his warm lips on mine again. His pretty face was still soaked from the salty tears that I’d caused. I wrapped my arms and legs around him as he wrapped his arms under my back. My sweet boy, how could I ever do you wrong? You deserve the whole world.

“I don’t know how I’ll ever trust you again, ” He moaned into my lips. I rubbed the side of his neck as I chased after his lips.

“I know, ” I whispered in response, furrowing my eyebrows as I let out a breathy moan.

“You’re horrible, you know that?” He pressed his whole body onto me. I whined softly, arching my back, feeling his heartbeat through my shirt. He was so much more stronger than Bill.

His tears fell down my face as he continued. My heart ached at the warm feeling, reaching down to wipe my face.

“I know, ” I mewled as I sniffled. He pulled me close as he thrusted. I let out pleased moans against his lips, he was hitting me in all the right places that Bill couldn’t.

“You’re so horrible, ” A slight whimper playing on his lips.

“You deserve better, ” I breathed, throwing my head back as I felt his tip pass my G-spot. He placed kisses over the purple marks, sniffling.

“But, I only want you, ” He let out. I could feel him trembling as he tried to keep his pace. My lips parted as I let out a sob mixed with pleasure and ache.

“You deserve better, Tom, ” I moaned out, feeling him thrust into my G-spot. His gentle kisses scattered on my neck as he shakingly moaned.

“I don’t know any better, ” He laid his face on my chest again as he bucked his hips into my g-spot. I bit my lip, clenching my eyes, my hands reaching down to his shoulders. I dug my nails into his skin, squealing.

“Fuck! Right there!” I panted, pulling him closer with my legs around his waist. He moaned into my chest as he kept his pace, thrusting into the same area. I clenched around his throbbing size, feeling my stomach tighten. “Tom!” I cried out as I rolled my eyes back, seeing a flash of light. My legs shook as the knot in my stomach came undone. I let out one final moan, releasing around his size. I slowly pulled my arms away, breathing heavily as he pulled out. Tom grunted as he quickly stroked himself, releasing onto the lower part of my shirt. He fell next to me, panting as his eyes were hooded.

I turned on my side, closed my legs, and opened my arms. He looked at me, pressing his lips together before scooting over. He pressed the side of his face into my chest, wrapping his arms around my waist. My racing heartbeat echoed into his ear as I held his head. I reached down to his face, caressing it as his crying seemed to calm down.

“I’m sorry, Tom, ” I whispered, kissing the top of his head. I undid his bandana as he kept his eyes on an object around the room. He stayed quiet, almost as if he had just been sterilized. I laid the bandana to the side, running my thumb over his cornrows. Though he was physically there, the only thing that kept me company was his breathing. My eyes welled up, my hand gently rubbing his shoulders. He’s all I want.

—-

© t/bkaulitzz; dont steal :(

tom kaulitz, tom, kaulitz, kaulitz twins

[nottsbitch]

slytherin boy porn links

18+ this contains mature content. MDNI.

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theo nott

theo fingering you while fucking you

after theo showed up to the library because you told him you were busy studying

trying to stay quiet while the rest of the boys are asleep

soft and slow sex with theo

matteo riddle

riding matteo

after class with matteo

matteo finishing on you after putting in only the tip

matteo letting you use him

lorenzo berkshire

telling enzo that he can’t put it in

you and enzo during movie night

enzo taking his time with you

enzo teasing you

tom riddle

your first time with tom you only let him put the tip in

riding tom’s face

tom chocking you while rubbing your clit

you on top

draco malfoy

riding draco’s face

after class with draco

using his fingers then sucking him off

draco fucking you in missionary

✩✩✩✩

[jakegyllenbaalz]

tom hardy myspace rabbit hole is not for the weak

[ghostfacd]

YOU CAN LET GO NOW ! | TOM BLYTH

PAIRING. tom blyth x fem!actress!reader

SUMMARY. in which tom blyth can’t let go of your hand after an intense argument scene in your film

installment of this au | your character and Tom’s lines in the film are written in italics

“Action!”

Tom and you have probably been on your tenth cut by now, the scene was an argument between yours and his character, Balleona and Coriolanus. It was fierce and intense, filled with lots of angry yelling and a few tears.

Needless to say, your director was on both of your asses to make sure you got everything down perfectly, from the lines and hand movements to the crocodile tears.

“You can’t just expect everything to be okay Coriolanus!” You yell exasperated. You look up at Tom, who was currently looking down at you with a cold gaze. “You decided to cheat! You decide to risk your entire career for Lucy Gray, now you go sit with the consequences!”

Tom slams his hand on the table nearby, making you flinch back. “I had to! I did it for us! All of it! The rat poison—the scarf—I did everything for us! And now you repay me by yelling at me like a child?!”

You push Tom back with an accusing finger, eyes lingering with hurt. “You’re acting like a child Coriolanus Snow! I told you that my family has enough money, enough for you to go to university. But you just had to ruin the entire system, didn’t you? Is it Lucy Gray? The disgusting filth from District 12? Is she influencing you?”

Tom places his hand on your chin, grabbing it harshly, making you let out a whine.

“You don’t speak about her like that, do you understand?” Tom tightens his grip, making your hands come up to try to get out of his grasp. “Do you understand?!” He yells, causing you to close your eyes tightly.

“Let me go, you’re hurting me.” You say, “Coryo, let go, you’re hurting me.”

Tom’s eyes suddenly switched from anger to softness, and he lets go of his hold on your face. “I’m sorry sweetheart. I’m sorry.”

He brings you into a hug, letting you bury your head into his chest. “You know I didn’t mean it right? You know you’re more important to me than Lucy Gray—that’s why I did all of this. It was for you.”

You nod, letting out a few tears. Tom breaks the hug to hold your hand, his other one coming up to wipe them away.

“And.. cut!”

Tom stops wiping the tears that have fallen down to your cheeks, sighing in relief when the director says that they don’t have to redo the scene again.

However, he’s still holding tightly on your hand, nodding slowly at each of the words that come out from the director’s mouth.

“You okay?” You whisper to him.

“Hm? Yeah, no, I’m fine.” He reassures you, smiling down at your figure. “I’m a bit thirsty. Water?”

You smile and nod, letting him walk you two over to the water dispenser. He’s still holding firmly onto your hand, something that doesn’t go unnoticed by your co stars, Rachel and Josh.

“Geez Blyth, do you always have such a possessive hold on our dear Y/N here?” Rachel jokes, smiling teasingly at you two.

You roll your eyes, looking up at your boyfriend. He doesn’t seem to hear Rachel’s words, instead, focusing on getting the two of you water.

“Do you want some Rachel? Josh?”

“I’m good,” Rachel replies, “and Josh is too. We were gonna head out to this smoothie place for our lunch break.”

“Ah.” With his free hand, Tom pulls you closer to him until you’re practically leaning against him. “Well have fun you two.”

Rachel and Josh say their thanks, but before they leave, Rachel slips by you, whispering “he’s stuck to you like glue, isn’t he?” in your ear.

You try to hold in your smile, butterflies filling your stomach. Despite shooting the scene 15 minutes ago, Tom was still holding onto your hand as if you were his lifeline.

“Hey babe,” you say, which automatically makes all the gears in Tom’s hand focus their attention on you.

“Hm?”

“How come you’re still holding onto my hand?”

He seems to be surprised at your words, glancing down briefly at your intertwined fingers.

“Oh, I didn’t realize.” He says, shrugging.

“Yeah,” you tease him. “Obsessed with me aren’t you?”

He rolls his eyes, but nods in agreement. “Just a habit I guess. I felt really bad for yelling at you so much in the scene and grabbing your face. I’d never do that in real life.”

You let out a laugh, making Tom furrow his eyebrows in confusion.

“Aww Tom,” you say, leaning into his chest with your head. “I know you would never do that in real life baby. It’s just acting.”

“I know,” he sighs. “I just hate arguing with you, whether it’s acting or not. Coriolanus is a loser for not realizing what he has, you know.”

Now that made you laugh even louder, “yeah, but Tom Blyth is a sweetheart.” You tippy toe to reach his nose, placing a small kiss on the bridge of it. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

[darknight3904]

It Burns For You

𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: ɪɴ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏʀʏᴏ ɢʀᴏᴡ ᴜᴘ ᴛᴏɢᴇᴛʜᴇʀ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀᴘɪᴛᴏʟ ᴀɴᴅ ᴏɴᴇ ᴅᴀʏ ᴄʀᴏꜱꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪɴᴇꜱ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅꜱ

𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: ɴᴏɴᴇ, ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ. ᴏᴏᴄ ᴄᴏʀʏᴏ, ʜᴇ'ꜱ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴛᴏᴛᴀʟʟʏ ʜᴇᴀᴅ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ʜᴇᴇʟꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ. ᴄʜᴇᴄᴋ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴍʏ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ!

ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ

Coriolanus is 12 when he sees you for the first time. Your red uniform is pressed perfectly and your school bag looks brand new. Your lunch consisted of a hearty-looking sandwich with roast beef and lettuce and a container of fresh fruit that had his mouth-watering.

"Do you want a piece? Our maid always packs too much and I can never finish it. You can have some if you want." Your voice fills his ears

A delicate-looking hand is holding a juicy-looking strawberry in front of him. He reaches for it and it takes every ounce of self-control he has not to shove it in his mouth. Instead, he takes a small bite and thanks you for sharing.

"Don't you have a lunch today?" You ask

He doesn't. The school had said they would start supplying the students with lunches soon but how soon? Coriolanus had already been attending for a number of years and still nothing.

"I already ate it." He lied

"You're still hungry though. You can have the rest." You say with a smile as you push your fruit bowl to him.

"Is it your first day?" He asks

"Yes, my mother thought that my governess wasn't doing a good job so she had my father enroll me here. I miss being at home with my new kitten though. She has long white hair and she is the cutest thing in the whole world." You said

Coriolanus can't believe that you had your own governess, let alone a pet to call your own. He later learns from Arachne that your father became incredibly rich by manufacturing weaponry for the Capitol. Despite your inherent wealth, you've never flashed it around him.

You and Coriolanus are 15 when you discover all the lies he tells at school about his family. He had left his uniform jacket behind on his chair and you got his home address from Sejanus, meaning to give it back so he'd have it for tomorrow. Instead, you had discovered the Snow's decrepit-looking building and barely functioning penthouse. Coriolanus' heart nearly stops when he emerges from his room to see you and his Grandma'am sitting together as she compliments your shoes.

"What are you doing here?" He asks, ready for your judgment and teasing words

"I wanted to return your jacket, Coryo. You'll need it for tomorrow."

The red of the jacket in your arms matches his face as he ushers you to the door, trying to hide the fact that Tigris was preparing cabbage in the kitchen that would undoubtedly stink the entire place up with the scent of the Snow's poverty.

"Stop rushing me, your cousin invited me to stay for dinner." You say trying to stop the way he is leading you to the door.

"You don't want what she is making. Tigris is a terrible cook." He said

Tigris lets out a shout of disagreement from the stove and Coriolanus ignores it.

"How about, I go out and get something to add to the meal Tigris is cooking, and by the time I get back you change your attitude about me staying for dinner Coryo. "

And with that, you walk out the door and slam it in his face. He's rather stunned at your declaration but knows you're serious. He rushes around their home, trying to clean up what he can while Tigris laughs at his frantic motions. Then, just as he was debating whether or not he wanted to change out of his uniform, you return from your short trip to the closest market.

"I wasn't sure what Tigris is cooking so I got a couple of things." You say placing the bags on the table.

Coriolanus is sure you spent a fortune on what is in these bags. Fresh bread accompanied by a sickly sweet fruit spread and a block of butter sits in one while the other holds something else in a brown box. You take your seat next to him at the ugly little table he has eaten too many meals at and cut a piece of the bread for Grandma'am. He is worried when Tigris starts portioning out the cabbage she cooked on the stove. Coriolanus watches your expression as you take a bite but nothing that he expected happens. You don't knit your brows in disgust or get up to leave and take your fresh bread and mysterious box with you. Instead, you go back for a second bite and compliment what Tigris has done with the food.

He sits stiffly next to you and can barely accept the slice of bread you offer him. You excuse yourself to use the bathroom and Tigris reaches across the table and pinches his shoulder.

"Stop sitting like that, Coryo!" She scolds

"Like what?" He asks,aware that Tigris meant how oddly straight his back was.

"You're making her uncomfortable. You've been friends with her for years she isn't worried about what our home looks like." Tigris says

"She might not be but what happens when she goes to school tomorrow and talks?" He asks

He shuts up when he hears the sound of the bathroom door opening again.

"That was lovely Tigris. I've never had anything like it, I'll have to invite you all to my own home for dinner sometime. Our cook makes these pastries that are simply wonderful. They even get sold at local markets, which leads to this..."

His eyes widen when you finally unveil what was hiding in that second bag. A dozen expensive looking deserts sit in the brown box you brought, each one decorated differently.

"I hope I picked something everyone would like. I know Coryo mentioned that Grandma'am liked chocolate so I picked this one just for her."

Coriolanus feels a wide smile stretch across his face as you pass out your little desserts. His worries about you gossiping to their peers fade from view as he bites into what he thinks is a croissant. You laugh at his reaction and toss a napkin at his face which is most likely covered in the gooey fruit filling that was in his pastry.

He walks you back to your home that night and thanks you for making his night. He can't remember the last time Grandma'am had smiled from eating chocolate. You accept his thanks and gently tell him that he shouldn't be ashamed about his financial situation. He never gets to disagree with you though because a soft kiss is pressed to his lips followed by a rushed,

"Goodnight, Coryo! Thanks for the cabbage!"

He walks back to his own home with a jump in his step. Thoughts of you consume him as he smiles to himself, proud his first kiss was shared with you. He feels his heart burn with something that felt like it was going to come up and out his mouth as he finally made it back to his room, you officially had him wrapped around your finger.

Your room is flooded with sunlight the first time Coriolanus sees it. A soft, silky-looking bed spread sits atop one of the biggest beds he has seen as you beckon to your cat, Maisy to come and say hello to him. He looks at the oversized wooden dresser that sits against one wall. He sees the photograph of him and you that was taken a few weeks ago at your 17th birthday party nestled among little knickknacks. Books Coriolanus has never even heard of line your shelves as he you place a record on the player that sits on your desk. Soft sounds of a piano and the words from an unnamed singer fill your gorgeous room as he turns to you.

"Do you want to dance?" He finds himself asking

You accept and he leads you or well tries to. You're rather stiff and it turns out dancing is harder than it looks because he isn't any good at it either. You laugh as he trips over his feet and end up falling with him, landing on the ground entangled in each other. Your fingers brush his curls from his eyes as his nose brushes yours.

"What're you doing?" You ask quietly

"Nothing." He responds, his eyes flicking to your lips.

The moment his lips touch yours, a tingle shoots down his spine. This is a real kiss, not what you gave him when you were both 15. He cups your face and your hands are tangled in his hair as he deepens it. He felt his head spin as you moved against him, almost as if you wanted him to swallow you whole right here on your bedroom floor. A giddy feeling swelled in his chest when he pulled away for air.

"Coryo...what was that?" You ask

"I thought you'd know by now. That was a kiss, darling." He laughed brushing his thumb across your lip

"I know that...but why'd you give me one?" You ask

"Don't you know?" He smiles and places a chaste kiss on your lips "My heart, it burns for you, it always has."

Part 2 is out now!

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