#tom smut

[iniquitousyearning]

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.

[riddleswhcre]

────۶ৎ hoe

tom riddle doesn’t know how to be gentle. good thing you don’t want him to be.

warnings: smut, degradation, choking, dom!tom, creampie, mild dumbification, brat-taming.

ᐟᐟ ⟢ a/n: inspired by i love you hoe by 9lives & odetari. enjoy <3

𓏲 ࣪₊ ❥ 𓂃 more

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝

"you love it when i fuck you like this, don’t you?"

his voice is silk and venom, curling around you like a curse, like a promise. tom riddle isn’t gentle. tom riddle doesn’t know how to be gentle.

his fingers are wrapped around your throat, squeezing just enough to make you dizzy, just enough to make you feel owned. he’s got you bent over his desk, robes bunched up around your waist, legs shaking, drooling over his cock as he bullies his way deeper, harder, rougher.

"oh, look at you," he purrs, his free hand sliding down to slap your cunt, sharp and wet and obscene. you jolt, moaning high and desperate, and his grip on your throat tightens.

"you’re fucking soaked," he chuckles, dragging his fingers through the mess he’s made of you, bringing them up to his lips, tasting you like it’s nothing, like it’s casual, like it doesn’t make your head spin.

"such a desperate little whore," he breathes, teasing the tip of his cock over your slit before pushing back in, slow and deep, too deep, stretching you wide around him.

you can’t think, can’t breathe, all you can do is take it, take him, take the way he ruins you over and over again.

"bet you’d let me fuck you in the great hall, wouldn’t you?" his smirk drips arrogance, teeth grazing your ear. "right on the dining table. let everyone see who you belong to. let them watch while i split you open on my cock."

he pulls out just to slam back in, knocking the air from your lungs. you sob his name, clutching at the desk, but he only laughs, cruel and beautiful, fucking you through it.

"say it," he orders, voice dark, dangerous. "say you’d let me use you however i want. say you’d let me fill you up in front of everyone, let them see my cum dripping out of you."

your moan breaks, body clenching around him, and he groans, low and wrecked.

"fuck—" he snarls, hips snapping against yours, pace brutal. "filthy little thing. you love it, don’t you? being fucked like a whore. being used."

his hand snakes down, fingers finding your clit, rubbing messy circles, dragging you closer and closer and closer—

"come for me," he growls. "make a mess on my cock. prove you’re mine."

your body obeys before your brain catches up, pleasure ripping through you, white-hot, blinding, your cunt fluttering around him, sucking him deeper.

his hips stutter, a low, guttural moan tearing from his throat as he buries himself to the hilt, filling you, claiming you, making sure you’ll be dripping with him for hours.

he stays there for a moment, breathing heavy, forehead pressed against your shoulder, before he’s moving again, already hard, already ready to ruin you all over again.

"oh, you thought i was done with you?"

his fingers tighten in your hair, jerking your head back, his smirk sharp, wicked.

"think again."

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝

thank you for reading. reblogs & feedback appreciated.

[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]

Unspoken Jealously

PAIRINGS: Tom 2010 x Female reader

CONTENT: ANGST + SMUT + FLUFF

SYPNOSIS: Tom and Y/N always fight in school, he's a popular asshole and she's a quiet, reserved girl. He always picked fights with her, one day in class sending her over the edge, causing him to actually shut up for once. Then at a party, seeing her with another guy sent him over the edge.

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, arguing

Tom was the most popular guy in school, he was an asshole, arrogant and rude to anyone he didn't like, and those people, he could not like them for the stupidest reasons. One persons glasses are too big, nose is too small, their style isn't up to his standards, anything.

I was a quiet, yet confident girl, not afraid to stand up for what's right, usually ending up in Tom and I arguing. One day, I was sitting in class, Tom and his friends came in late, laughing and pushing each other around, already being obnoxious and loud.

"Boys! You do not come into my class just to talk over me and be rude like that, go sit down and be quiet!" the teacher yelled at them, Tom just scoffed and sat down, of course, near me. He dropped his bag onto the desk with a massive thud, making me jump slightly.

"Awww, did I scare you?" he teased, sarcastically pouting while his friends erupted into laughter beside him, "oh shut up," I mumbled, rolling my eyes and paying attention to the board. His tall frame sprawled out on the chair, taking up all the space, leaving me basically no room and squishing up against his legs.

"Do you mind? When will you ever stop acting like an arrogant pig?" I turned to him, glaring at him deeply. He looked at my with a raised eyebrow, his piercing gaze appraising me. He leaned back in his chair, the smirk on his lips never faltering, "well if it isn't the little mouse who thinks she can roar," he chuckled deeply.

"Is that all you've got? You sound stupid, now shut up, sit properly and leave me alone," I grunted, turning back to my work. His smirk faded, replaced by a look of surprise. He sat up staighter, his eyes narrowing as his eyes burned into the side of my head. He muttered something under his breath but I ignored him.

"Feisty one, isn't she?" one of his friends said, "you're not going to take that, are you?" another added, egging Tom on, but he didn't give into them, just shaking his head and focusing on what the teacher was saying.

As the lesson went on Tom grew increasingly restless. He kept sneaking peeks at my work, his curiosity piqued by my near handwriting and the way I seemed to understand the material so easily, "come on, just give me the answers..." he whispered, nudging me with his elbow.

Despite my attempts to ignore him, Tom continued to pester me. He leaned in closer, his breath hot on my neck as he whispered persistently, "come on..I know you know the answers, just whisper them to me.." he tried moving me to look at my paper.

I snatched it away, hiding it from his gaze. "If you weren't such a fucking raging asshole to me, I'd give you them but because you treat me like shit, I won't. What makes you think you deserve my answers?" I turned to him, lecturing him.

Tom was taken aback by my harsh words and sudden change in tone. He looked around, noticing that several people were now watching with interest. Before he could respond, I continued.

"Now leave me alone and go do your own work, or are you too dumb to do it?" I said in a taunting tone. His face turned red with anger, he wasn't used to being spoken to like that, especially not in front of his friends. "Alright fine! Keep your precious answers to yourself!" he hissed, his voice laced with frustration but also hurt.

Later on that week, I was randomly invited to a party by one of my friends who got invited and was allowed a plus one, hosted by one of Toms feral friends. I decided to go, seeing no harm in trying to have fun for once.

I got dressed, wearing something cute and doing my hair and makeup. My friend arrived and I drove with her there. As we pulled up we saw the numerous cars parked down the street and in the driveway of the guys house. I went inside with her, weaving through the sweaty bodies of drunk people, going to the kitchen where all the drinks were scattered.

As I entered the house, Tom's attention was immediately drawn to me. He stood in the living room, surrounded by his friends, his eyes locked onto me as I made my way through the crowd. He looked me up and down, taking in my cute outfit and the effort I clearly put into my appearance.

I chose a simple vodka redbull, pouring it all into a glass and conversating with my friend as we both sipped at our drinks, glancing over at the people around us, "it's so weird that I've never been to a party before," I said, trying to see if I knew anyone.

"Is it all you expected?" my friend chuckled, I nodded and smiled, "I guess so, let's hope I don't run into Tom tonight, it won't be good for anyone here," I sighed, reaching over the counter and grabbing a bottle of vodka.

I poured some shots for me and my friend, we both clinked our glasses together and downed the shot, the clear liquid stinging my throat.

After a while of drinking, we landed on the dancefloor, dancing to the music, jumping up and down and giggling with my friend, having the time of our lives. We got increasingly more drunk and my confidence skyrocketed, I started flirting with a random guy, dancing with him and occasionally grinding on him.

Tom's gaze never left me as I moved throughout the room, his friends catching onto his fixation on me. As soon as he noticed me grinding on this random guy his jaw clenched, his chest slightly heaving with intense jealously. Who the fuck was this guy? Why was I even near him? He knew he had no right to be this jealous, he hadn't even told anyone his true feelings for you but it hurt like hell to see him, holding me like he should've been.

Tom's expression turned cold, letting out a heavy sigh, "give me a minute.." he murmured. He made his way towards me, his tall figure cutting through the crowd with ease. As he approached me, I looked up, my eyes meeting his. I was confused to see him there, I stopped dancing but before I could say anything he grabbed my arm, pulling me away from the guy and towards the bathroom. "We need to talk," he said firmly, going inside and closing the door behind him.

"What the fuck are you doing? You just ruined my fucking chances of getting with that guy, what is wrong with you?" I raised my voice, clearly pissed off. Toms grip on my arm tightened, his expression unyielding. He leaned in close, his voice low and commanding, "I don't like that guy, I don't like the way he looks at you."

I furrowed my eyebrows, confused but also angry, "are you...what?" I scoffed in disbelief, literally at a loss for words. "I'm telling you, I don't like him," he said through gritted teeth, "since when did you give a fuck?" I scoffed.

He stepped closer to me, his tall frame looming over me. He reached out and grabbed my chin, forcing me to look up at him, "since forever, since I saw the way he was looking at you, like he thinks he can have you, like he thinks he's good enough for you," he yelled, his voice shaky with rage.

"Tom..." I sighed, "what the fuck are you talking about? You sound crazy...this better not be some fucking prank you and your stupid friends have planned, I'm si-" he silenced me by pressing his lips to mine, his kiss hard and demanding. He pushed me back against the bathroom sink, his hands gripping my hips possessively.

When he finally pulled back, I was left breathless and speechless, "just listen damn it!" he grunted, "i've liked you for so fucking long, I know you may not believe it, I wouldn't either but I'm so tired of pretending that I don't like you! I hate having to hide my feelings from you, from everyone," he sighed, his eyes now drifting away.

"And I'm sorry for treating you like shit...I should've grown some balls and fucking told you..but I was a pussy, afraid of what everyone would think.." he sighed, cupping my face in his large hands. I was shocked, my mouth slightly agape as I fought to say something back.

"But I won't stand here and let that piece of shit take what's mine," he took advantage of my momentary silence, his hands sliding down to my thighs. He hoisted me up onto the sink, stepping between my open legs, "i'm serious, you're mine, not his. Understand?" he leaned in close, grabbing my chin.

"Mhm..." I nodded, looking into his eyes the whole time. Up until now I had never really noticed the feelings I had for Tom, like they were there all along but I just fought them off, pushing them far away into my brain, not wanting to accept the feelings. I mean it was scary, liking someone who I thought could never come close to liking me and also being my bully.

"Good girl.." he smirked, leaning in and capturing my lips in a heated kiss, I didn't know that I was starving until I tasted him, I kissed him back just as passionately, moaning against his lips. His hands tightening on my thighs, his touch firm.

He deepened the kiss, his tongue slipping past my parted lips to dance with mine. He broke the kiss only to trail his lips down along my jaw and down my neck, "you're so..so..so beautiful..." he mumbled against my skin.

His kisses trailed down my neck, to my chest, gently sucking on the skin. I felt his hands come around my back, gently dragging down the zipper of my dress, he lifted me up and let it slip to the floor, leaving me in my skimpy panties and no bra, my bare breasts.

His gaze darkened as he took in the sight of me, my bare tits on display. He trailed his fingertips along the curve of my waist, up to cup your breasts before diving his head in between my tits, gently squeezing them.

Then he trailed kisses down my stomach, lower stomach and then stopping right in front of my panties. "You gonna let me eat your pretty pussy, hm?" he taunted, looking up at me with a mischievious glint in his eyes.

His words made me let out a little gasp, I nodded slowly and hooked my fingers around the waistband of my underwear, sliding them down my legs and off my feet, throwing it aside.

He spread my legs wide, his gaze fixed on my pussy, "so fucking pretty.." he said, before leaning forward and burying his face between my legs. I let out a soft moan as I felt his tongue come in contact with my aching clit, instantly arching my back.

His hands gripped my thighs, holding them open wide as he devoured me. His tongue worked expertly, licking and sucking as he pushed me closer and closer to the edge. He could feel me getting closer, my breath hitching and my hips bucking against his face.

"Ohhh fuck!" I whined, holding onto the counter tightly, my knuckles turning white from the firm grip I had. The pleasure came in rough, crashing waves, drowning me in ecstasy. "You like that?" he murmured against my sensitive flesh before flicking his tongue over my clit again. He slid one finger inside me, then two, curling them to hit that perfect spot.

"Holy shit!" I yelped, my pussy quivering around his fingers, he continued to suck and lick my throbbing clit. As my moans got louder he doubled his efforts, his fingers pumping in and out of me as his mouth suckled on my swollen bud.

His fingers curled faster and harder inside me, his mouth sealed around my aching nub. He went so hard I was seeing stars, rolling my eyes back from the immense amount of pleasure I was receiving. I was in a state of pure euphoria, being sent into oblivion as his tongue and fingers worked their magic.

"Gonna cum!" I whimpered loudly, writhing and squirming under him. "Come for me baby..let go.." he growled. He could feel me tensing, my breath hitching, my fingers gripping his hair painfully. "Keep fucking going!" I screamed, moaning loudly, feeling my release rapidly approach.

He didn't need to be told twice, his fingers curved upwards, hitting my sweet spot repeatedly, sucking on my clit roughly, "cmon, cum for me!" he raised his voice, his tongue swirling around my sensitive nub in a rapid motion as he fucked me with his fingers.

With one last flick of my clit my orgasm crashed down, he felt my inner walls convulse around his fingers as I found my release. He continued to suck on my bud, drawing out my pleasure until I was limp and breathless. He finally lifted his head, a smug smile on his face as he cleaned my essence off with his tongue, "such a good girl.."

My chest heaved, barely able to calm down from the earth shattering orgasm I just had. Tom stepped back, unbuckling his belt and lowering his pants. His hard length sprang out, standing tall and proud. He stepped forward, the head of his erection pressing against my entrance, "wrap your legs around my waist baby.." he grumbled, grabbing my legs and pulling me closer to the edge of the sink.

I quickly wrapped my legs around his waist, looking up at him as he lined himself up and thrusted buried himself inside in one powerful thrust, his thick length stretching me to the limit.

He gripped my hips tightly, holding me in place as he started to fuck me hard and fast against the sink, "hold on tight baby, i'm not going to be gentle.." he whispered in my ear, his breath hot against my neck. I wrapped my arms around him and held onto him tightly, nuzzling my face into his neck and moaning loudly.

"Holy fuck, Tom!" I whimpered, he pounded into me relentlessly, the sound of my moans and the slapping of flesh against porcelain filling the room. He reached around and grabbed my ass, spreading my cheeks apart and fucking me even harder, "fuck, you're so tight..." he growled, his balls slapping against my ass.

I was being sent into oblivion, my eyes rolling back and my tits bouncing wildly with each brutal thrust. "You're close aren't you?" he grunted, his voice strained from holding back his release, his hand sneaking between me to rub my swollen nub, "such a good girl, taking this cock so fucking well.." he smirked, I nodded and whined, "mmmh! fuck!" receiving pleasure 2 ways at the same time was driving me crazy, my moans getting louder by the second.

My throat was raw from my desperate wails, he kept fucking me viciously, his tip brutally hitting my cervix. He grunted with each thrust, his face contorted with pleasure and concentration. His movements became more feverish, his hips jackhammering against mine as he neared the edge. "Gonna gum...im close..." he rasped, his voice thick with need.

"Fucking touch yourself..now.." he groaned, replacing his hand with mine, making me rub my clit furiously. His gaze met mine, his eyes dark with desire. He watched as I touched myself, his breath coming in ragged pants, his thrusts borderline erratic, driven by the sight of me pleasuring myself, "fuck..yes..so fucking hot..." he mumbled.

He shifted his angle, hitting that spot that made my eyes roll back, knowing this would send me over the edge. With a few more hard, deep thrusts I came undone, the sensation of me pulsing around his thickness send him over the edge. He let out a guttural roar, "ohhh FUCK!" his hips jerking forward as he spilled his seed inside me.

Both our chests heaved in unison, breathless after our intense love making session. After calming down for a while, he leaned forward, his lips finding mine in a tender kiss, his tongue exploring my mouth. "Please don't let this be a one night stand, something we regret.." he murmured against my lips.

His hands slid down to my waist, holding me close to him and looking deeply into my eyes, "I meant what I said before, it wasn't a coax to make you fuck me..i meant ever single word i said," he sighed, "I want you to be my girlfriend, I want to hold, kiss and love you in front of everyone, not be ashamed anymore.." I searched his eyes for any sign of deceit but all that looked back at me was sincerity.

My heart ached for him, I gently nodded, "I agree..I just want to be loved by you, not hated..i'm sick of the petty fights, as much as they are funny, I also want to experience being loved by you.." I smiled, gently cupping his face and pressing my lips into his for another gentle kiss.

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

tags: @bkaulitzlover @pa1n-0f-l0ve @tomkslut

tags: @miyukafujii @tomscumdoll @billsdolliest

tag: @tomsfuckdoll

[slitherinky]

Masterlist | About me | Requests

Masterlist

Draco Malfoy (Smut)

A Different Lesson Than Usual teaching you your place after you showed him a little attitude in class An Intense Train Ride fingering and dominating you in the Hogwarts Express

Seductive Betrayal rough pussy eating and sex after you offered him to stay the night at your place

Mattheo Riddle (Smut)

A Shadow Between the Shelves eating you out and fucking you softly in the library

A Vow in Blood keeping you captive, interrogating you and doing some knife play

Theodore Nott (Smut)

The Magic of Forgiveness soft make out sesh & sex as a special Christmas gift

Blaise Zabini (Smut)

Cabin Confessions coming on 14.03

Missing something? Request here -> Requests

[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.

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© t/bkaulitzz :( ; dont steal

tom kaulitz, kaulitz, smut, kaulitz twins

[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

[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

[cruel-seduction]

Your boyfriend isn’t just fucking you—he’s ruining you.

Face down, ass up, knees burning against the mattress, you're barely holding yourself up anymore. Your arms gave out five minutes ago, but that didn’t stop him—nothing ever does when he’s in one of his moods.

His pace is relentless, deep, punishing, like he’s got something to prove, like he wants to break you. His cock slams into your cunt over and over again, stretching you open, forcing you to take him, to keep taking him, even though your body is shaking, even though you’re gasping for air between sobs.

“Oh, what happened to all that mouth, huh?” he taunted, voice sharp, mocking. His hand came down hard against your ass, making you whimper. “Talked all that shit—now look at you. Crying like a dumb little whore. Where’d that attitude go, baby?”

You can’t even answer. Your mouth is open, but all that comes out is a broken moan, spit dribbling down your chin as he fucks you so deep your toes curl.

“That’s what I thought,” he chuckles darkly, snapping his hips forward harder, making you jolt with every thrust. “You begged for this. Begged me to stretch you out , begged me to fuck you so dumb you couldn’t even think.”

And he is.

Your thoughts are mush, your body isn’t your own anymore—it’s his, only his, to use however he wants. And he knows it.

His hand snakes down, fingers finding your clit, rubbing harsh circles over the swollen, throbbing bud. The shock of pleasure makes you scream, legs kicking out as you try to squirm away, but he only tightens his grip on your hair, keeping you still.

“Nuh-uh, baby. You take what I give you,” he grunts, drilling into you harder, each stroke punching moans out of your lungs. “I think you can give me one more, can't you baby?”

Tears spill from your eyes, wetting the sheets beneath you. “P-please—”

“Please what?” he taunts, leaning over you, pressing his chest against your back, breath hot against your ear. “Please don’t make you cum again? Please don’t keep wrecking this pretty pussy?”

Your body betrays you, clenching around him, sucking him in even deeper.

“Oh, fuck,” he groans, hips stuttering for a moment before he collects himself, hand smacking against your ass, the sting making you yelp. “That’s it, baby. Get nice and tight for me—gonna make you cum so hard you forget your own name.”

You’re already there. Already gone, falling apart, nails clawing at the sheets as the pleasure builds too fast, too intense, too much—

And then you break.

Your whole body seizes, pleasure detonating through you in sharp, white-hot waves. You sob, scream, legs kicking weakly as your cunt milks his cock, tightening so much it hurts.

“Shit, look at you,” he groans, watching as your body spasms, as you sob through your orgasm. “Such a messy little thing. You love this, don’t you? ”

You’re too wrecked to answer, too lost in the feeling of him still pounding into you, using your body even as you tremble through your orgasm.

His thrusts grow erratic, deeper, needier.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck—”

With a sharp growl, he slams deep one last time, shoving his cock in to the hilt as he fills you, thick ropes of cum spilling inside your ruined pussy.

For a moment, all you hear is the sound of his heavy breathing, the rapid pound of your own heartbeat in your ears.

Then—

“Damn, baby,” he huffs, pressing a wet kiss to your shoulder. “You good?”

You can’t even move. Can’t even think. All you can do is lay there, gasping, legs still twitching from aftershocks.

He laughs. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

His fingers drag through the mess between your thighs, smearing his cum along your puffy folds. “Hope you didn’t think we were done.”

And before you can even catch your breath, he’s flipping you over, pushing your knees to your chest, spreading you open to ruin you all over again.

[rainydayathogwarts]

Bed side drawer - Peter Parker

summary: when Tony finds a box of condoms in Peter's bed side drawer, he doesn't expect Peter's girlfriend to walk into the room, causing an awkward interaction. a/n: my toxic trait is that i always imagine tasm!peter even tho it's in the avengers universe 0.6k wc

When Peter walks into his bedroom, the first thing his eyes lay on is the box of condoms in his mentor's hand. Tony Stark smirks from where he sits on his mentee's bed, drinking the cup of coffee Aunt May had so graciously prepared him. Peter's eyes go wide, flickering between his open bed side drawer and his mentor, and he dives across the room to get the box from him. Peter nearly hits his head against the wall when Tony tosses the box in the air, catching it in his hand when it falls down again. Peter's face flushes red as he scrambles back up, straightening his bed sheets where he haphazardly landed on them, mouth gaping open. Peter can hear you laughing with his Aunt May in the living room about another one of May's stories. She always had to tell you about the stories of how smitten he was with you, an attempt for your relationship to last forever. He needs to get that box before you walk in because that was not the situation he imagined you'd meet Mr. Stark in. He refused to let it happen.

Peter tilts his head to the side with desperate eyes, begging "Please give me those Mr. Stark." Tony grins teasingly, saying "You know these only work when there are two people involved, right?" Peter doesn't have time to react before the door to his room opens again and you walk in, saying something about the story Aunt May had told you before your eyes land on the older man in the room, prompting you to go silent. Oh no, Peter thinks. Tony quickly's eyes quickly scan you where you awkwardly stand in the doorway, and the obvious mortification that settles on your face at the realisation of who he is.

"Oh."

"Oh." Tony's tone is suggestive, and completely different from yours. He stands up from Peter's bed, slowly making his way across the room to you. His eyes flicker between you and Peter, the box of condoms still in his hands as you shoot a hand out in front of you, smiling nervously and saying "Hi, I'm y/n." in a lowsy attempt to ignore the box laying in the man's hand, eyes glancing down to it a couple of times. Tony shakes your hand, introducing himself, before asking "And who might you be y/n?" Gulping, you glance between your boyfriend, whose face has flushed a dark shade of red, and the avenger standing in front of you. "I'm Peter's girlfriend." You state, eyes widening as Tony puts the box of condoms in your hand.

"There are two people involved then..." You hear him mutter under his breath, but it's nothing as embarrassing as Aunt May walking into the busy room and observing the situation, attention immediately caught by the box of condoms that you throw at your boyfriend in a panic. The box hits Peter's chest and falls on the floor, and neither of you make a move to pick it up whilst you smile awkwardly at May, who follows Tony out of the room. You huff when they walk out, turning around to dig your head into Peter's chest in humiliation. Your boyfriend hugs you close, rubbing a hand on your back, and he's happy you can't hear Tony say "That girl seems too sweet to be having sex with your nephew." or his Aunt May's scoff of "Yeah until you come back home after a night with your friends and hear everything through those walls. She really knows how to talk dirty."

[iniquitousyearning]

SLYTHERINSLUT0’S RIDDLEMAS

dec 23rd. tom riddle — wet dreams, house rivals.

RIDDLEMAS MASTERLIST. I 2024

summary: tom’s been infiltrating your dreams, and you decide it’s time to call him out on it.

warnings: 18+, SMUT MDNIIII, coercion!!!!, dark!tom, mind manipulation, religious undertones, gryffindor!reader, enemies if you squint, fingering, squirting, begging, dream sex, tom riddle is his own warning, so much praise, dirty talk, verbal sparring.

You've never been a heavy sleeper. Even as a child, the smallest sound—a creak in the floorboards, a shift in the walls—would jolt you awake. For years, you chalked it up to some ingrained survival instinct, some form of trauma response to whatever part of your childhood still haunts you. You got used to it.

But lately, it isn't sound that’s been waking you. It isn't movement or foundation shifts, either. It's the dreams.

Dreams—strange, lucid, intense dreams of him. Always him. Dreams that make you feel like you're drowning, like you're flying, like you've found a new level of intoxication that you'd never imagined possible—and each time the dreams wake you up, the sheets (and whatever bottoms you may have been wearing) are always soaked, and your thighs are always shaking.

It's maddening.

They feel too real to be anything but a violation, his presence bleeding into your subconscious regardless of how much you try to fight it. You know it means something is wrong. You'd tried to rationalize yourself into going back to sleep, telling yourself it's just hormones or some form of stress, but you're too smart to believe your own excuses.

You know it's more than that.

He's haunting you in your sleep—in the most unexpected way. The dreams are always lucid enough that you can feel it—you can feel him—his mouth on yours, his hands on your hips, his dick bullying your fucking cervix and his magic on your clit—leaving behind nothing but hunger. Hunger that's so intense it makes you want him in a way it almost scares you.

You tell yourself you hate him, you've always hated him—but denial only lasts for so many days, as you realize you can't look at him or talk to him without the dreams forcing their way to the forefront of your mind, making you remember the feelings and the sensations and how much, despite hating him, you want them to be real.

You wanted to believe it would pass. That this was nothing but a phase, a trick of your overactive mind. But deep down, you knew the truth. Tom Riddle has wormed his way into your head, into your dreams—out of spite—and he's not letting go.

So after a hell of a week of this—with damn near zero hours of sleep—you decide to seek him out. To put an end to this madness. Once and for all.

It takes every ounce of courage and Gryffindor-like reckless bravery you can scrape together just to go through with it, but somehow you do. Somehow, you make it across the castle, make it to his door. You're in your pyjamas, for Merlin's sake. It's 1 a.m., and the slick still coating your thighs from what had to have been your tenth lucid orgasm in a matter of a week is a humiliating reminder of why you're even here at all.

And when the door opens, you have the strange feeling that he's been expecting you, even as he makes a great show of acting surprised to see you, looking you up and down with a lazy, smug glance that makes your pulse quicken so viscerally you lose the last shred of sanity you were pathetically clinging to—

"What the fuck—" you prowl forward without hesitation, forcing him a step back into the room. "—are you doing to me?"

Even if you're not imagining some form of surprise in that smug little smirk, he does his best not to let it show.

"Me?" He says, all pretend innocence, flicking his hand out to shut the door behind you with some spell you don't care to name. "You'll have to be more specific."

You glare at him, refusing to acknowledge how unfairly attractive he looks in just sweatpants and an oversized shirt—because of course, even casual looks like this are a weapon in his arsenal.

"Cut the bullshit, Riddle," you snap, and you're not sure if it's your lack of sleep or some form of desperation-fuelled bravery, but you're suddenly invading his personal space, poking an accusing finger into his shoulder. "You're fucking haunting me—"

He blinks. "I’m haunting you. And how am I doing that?”

There's a part of you that knows it's a trap—that this is probably exactly what the smug bastard in front of you has been wanting, but your brain is so deprived of sleep and your body is so starved of respite that you decide 'fuck it'—you want answers, and you're going to get them.

"You're in my dreams," you say, bluntly, forcing an exhale alongside it. "You've been in them every night for a week straight. I haven't slept a bloody minute."

That's when it happens—the tiniest flash of amusement in his eyes, so brief you might've missed it if you weren't ready to tear his fucking throat out.

"You're accusing me of giving you dreams?" He asks, in a tone that makes you want to grab him by the front of his shirt and make him cut the bullshit, and you can't tell how much of your own expression is irritation and how much is lust. "You think I've somehow managed to invade your mind?"

"Don't be condescending," you spit, trying to focus on the spot between his eyebrows that makes the heat in your core roar the least, "and don't act like you're incapable. As much as I can't bloody stand you, we both know damn well your mind magic is strong enough to do this to me—"

"Mind magic," he echoes with an amused snort, "you think I'm doing some kind of mind magic to invade your dreams, is that it?"

He's so damn good at this, you think—infuriatingly good. The way he's playing it off like the idea is absurd, completely laughable—

"Fucking precisely.” You can't hide the heat from your voice. You don't care to try. "These aren't just dreams. They're—they're strong. I feel you. Your hands, your tongue, your—"

Dick. You can't even bring yourself to say it.

And the bastard just smirks, like he's reading your mind anyway. Like he knows. That glimmer in his eyes—arrogant, insufferable—only confirms it.

"Hm," he says with something bored, running a hand through his hair. "Your subconscious—"

"It's not a bloody subconscious thing," you cut him off, uninterested in whatever bullshit he was about to feed you. "It's you. You're invading my dreams—I feel you—my body fucking feels you—"

He laughs at that. Like some sick, sadistic freak. He actually laughs—

"Listen to yourself." He says, with a mocking tone that makes you want to shove him. "Are you that desperate to hate me that you're pinning your dreams on me?"

"Hate doesn't even begin to cover it," you spit, stepping closer, your frustration boiling over. He shifts slightly, his back brushing the wall. "You've got a hell of an ego, but even you have to know this isn't something I'd want. I wouldn't put you in my dreams willingly if you paid me to do it—"

He hums, smirk never faltering, if anything it fucking grows at the tirade.

"You've been dreaming of me for a week," he points out, coolly, as if this is the most casual conversation in the world. "And now, here you are—standing in my dorm in the middle of the night, dressed like this." He takes a step toward you, now. "Do you know what that's called, sweetheart?"

Your lungs hitch at the pet name. Your mind is at war with your cunt and it's losing—

"Delirium?" You choke out, noticing another flash of something in his eyes as the gap between you closes. "Insomnia? Sleep deprivation?"

He gives you a mocking arch of the eyebrow.

"No," he says, in a tone that makes you seethe. "It's called obsession."

"Oh. The irony," you can't help but hiss at him, heart pounding because he's in your space and you're in his and this shouldn't be getting to you the way it is. "It's rich, coming from you, that you'd put that on me when—when you've been mindfucking me every goddamn night—"

"Mindfucking you?" He repeats, almost lazily, as his gaze drops, sweeping over you—your pyjamas, the clear lack of bra, the flush creeping up your neck. "Is that what you think I've been doing? You think—"

The way he doesn't even deny it—doesn't argue the accusation—makes your blood boil in a way you can't control.

"It's the only explanation. You've been—you've been—" you cut him off but your sentence falters because his gaze is moving so deliberately, dragging over you like he's cataloging your weaknesses, and the anger curdles into something raw and desperate. "God, Tom, I just need it to stop. I'm so fucking tense and tired. I'm so wound I can't even focus—I'm wet all the time—"

His eyes snap up to meet yours at that, and he gives you a look you can't even begin to interpret. You bite your tongue, realizing the words that left your mouth just a moment too late to pull them back, and you know you've lost the upper hand in this, somehow. You feel the ground slipping from under you and you hate the way your body shivers as he takes another slow, deliberate, step forward.

"Is that what you are?” He wets his lips. "You've come all the way here, in the dead of night, in your pyjamas, half out of your mind with exhaustion because you're wet. Isn't that right?"

You know better than to answer, though you feel yourself walking straight into the trap he's set.

"Piss off," you snap, but the bravado in your voice is paper-thin as he takes another step forward. He's so close now that his scent overwhelms you—leather and spice, something sharp and smoky that makes your head spin. You recognize it, of course you do; it's the same as in your dreams, and the familiarity makes your knees feel unsteady. "You're—"

"Don't act so offended," he leans closer, his voice a low murmur, quiet, almost silky as it wraps around you, and suddenly you barely remember what you were so pissed off about. "You can't even deny it. I made you cum tonight, didn't I? In your dreams."

Your teeth grit. "You know you did—"

He takes one more step and now you're backed right up against his desk—and gods, Tom's tall, so much taller than you—and it feels like he's looming over you, caging you in.

"Mhm." There's a flash of triumph in his eyes as you lose your words. He leans down, breath grazing your ear just as he brings two fingers to your temple, pressing the pads against it. "Let's watch, shall we?"

Watc—oh no.

A cold sense of dread washes over you as you catch on to what he's insinuating, merely a second too late—

"Tom—"

He whispers something, something that pulls you under, and the next thing you know—in a flash of consciousness you didn't even consider possible—you're staring at yourself inside a dream you remember all too well. A dream sequence where you're moaning and trembling beneath him, your head thrown back, eyes rolling in unabashed pleasure as he drives into you, hips snapping with thrust after thrust after thrust—

And it's one thing to have felt it in the safety of your dreams, in the dead of night when you woke slick and desperate, clenching around nothing. But this—this is visceral. You can't look away because it's projecting inside your mind: the flush blooming across your chest, the arch of your back, the way your lips part with every desperate breath. You hear the obscene sounds spilling from your mouth, mingling with his low, guttural grunts—and worst of all, you can feel it.

You can feel every ounce of pleasure he's giving you, as if he's giving it to you now.

"Mm," you hear him hum from infront of you—it's too much—you're lost in the memory, the dream, and it's a strange, voyeuristic, intimate experience to watch yourself and him like that. "You're worse off than I thought."

You’re gripping the wood of his desk so hard your fingertips are numb, heart flying out of the room as his hand slowly slides from your temple down to your jaw, holding you in place—

"Stop it." You manage to hiss at him, trying to force some semblance of control back into yourself—the last thing you need is to start melting against this bastard. "Tom—"

"You feel that?" He murmurs, breath brushing your neck, and you can't even focus on anything but the sensations he's forcing through your memory—seeing him above you, feeling him inside you. "You do, don't you? This is exactly what you've been feeling all week, isn't it?"

You want to snap at him, cuss him out, but oh god—

"Damn you," you hiss, even as his hands slide down to your hips—and it almost feels as if he's touching you twice, as if there are two sets of hands on your body. "Fuck, Tom—"

"Mm, you look good from this angle," he murmurs, and you fucking keen as you watch, in your mind, his hands slide over your stomach, pushing up your shirt and exposing your tits, groping as he fucks you. You keen as you feel it. "You love this, don't you? You want this."

"I—" you gasp, trying to convince him, or yourself, or goddamn anyone. Still fighting some invisible battle between resistance and submission because you hate that he's right. "I—god, what are you doing to me—"

"What am I doing to you?" He whispers, and you're not sure if the question is rhetorical, or if he's giving you permission to ask it. "I'm not doing anything that you aren't letting me do."

Your knees feel like they're about to buckle, and it's taking all your strength just to stay standing because the pleasure playing out in your mind is pouring into your veins and you can't even fathom how it's possible but you can't do anything to fight it—

"Oh, god—" you moan, unbridled, your physical body slumping back onto the desk as you feel the slick between your thighs, growing with every goddamn thrust. "Oh my god—"

He takes the opportunity of you slumped back against the desk and instantly leans down, bringing his lips to your ear—

"Not even god could keep your legs underneath you." His hand creeps up your thigh. "You're helpless."

"Helpless," you repeat, with a shaky gasp, and you hate how much the word turns you on. This is the first time you've ever been called helpless, and you're not even sure that you care. He's got you in his clutches, he's winning, and it's so infuriating and so goddamn perfect. “Tom—please, please touch me. I need to—fuck—"

You feel his lips brush the skin of your neck in a way that has you trembling with want, but—fucking hell, that's not what you need—you need his hands on you, you need him to just—

"What do you need?" He cooes, and there's a sly tone to his voice that makes you want to throw yourself at him all over again. "You need to cum?"

You moan, low and needy, writhing against the desk because this fucker—he knows exactly what he's doing. He’s got the upper hand here and you want it back. You want—

"Yes," you manage to gasp out. "I need you to—I fucking need you—inside me—"

As soon as that leaves your mouth, the dream fades from your vision and he's urging you to lay back. There's a soft thud as he places a hand on the desk next to your head, and he leans down, bringing his lips back to your ear, and you can't remember a time when you've ever wanted anyone else this bad.

"I'm touched," he murmurs, fingers slipping to the waist band of your pyjama pants, "that you want me that bad."

"I hate you," you manage to gasp out, but that's a lie, and you think he knows it. His fingers on your skin as he pulls your pants down make you ache for him, and you're struggling to not make another sound that will give him ammunition. "Why do you have to—"

"Why do I have to what?" He asks, and you know he's just trying to get a reaction out of you. "Tease you? Make you helpless?"

Your pants get hardly half way down your thighs before he decides it's enough and slides a finger through your soaked slit, and you can't hold back the moan that tears itself from your throat.

"Fuck, you're soaked.” He hisses through his teeth. “You've been sitting in your dorm for days, hm? Dreaming of me touching you, wishing you could touch yourself without thinking of me—do you want to cum, sweetheart?"

"Yes," you gasp out, and you're not above begging at this point. "Yes, god, please—I want to fucking cum—"

"There we go," he cooes, and he's enjoying this more than you'd like to acknowledge. "You know how long I've been waiting to hear you say that?"

"I'd say at least a week," you throw back, in a vain attempt to keep a shred of your dignity, but that's hard when he's circling his fingers around your clit and your body is jerking against the desk beneath you. God you really are helpless. "Because that's how long you've been plaguing my head, giving me wet dreams like some goddamn incubus—"

He chuckles at that, and you hate him a little less when he slips two fingers inside you, "You think I'm a demon?"

"You certainly act like one," you choke out, because he's crooking his fingers and your mind is going fuzzy and he's not going to let you get the upper hand back, even for a second. "Fuck—oh, yes, yes, yes."

"You've got me all wrong," he says, with a smile that would be boyish if it wasn't so sinister. "Demons come to punish you. I'm here helping you get that relief you've been needing so badly."

"Just want t-to help me," you moan as his long fingers work you open, thumb brushing your clit, "out of the kindness of your heart—"

"Out of the kindness of my heart,” he repeats, with a mocking tone, and it's the way he murmurs those words that's making your thighs clench around him until he grabs the fabric of your pjs bunched around them and pushes your legs up to your chest, working his fingers impossibly deeper. "Out of the goodness of my soul—it's what I do, darling, I'm known for my benevolence—"

"You're a good man," you know he can tell you're being sarcastic, but his fingers are filling you so fucking full you're nowhere near ready to start a fight again when you're this close to losing your goddamn mind on his desk. "You're such a good man, Tom—“

"Mhm," his breath tickles your ear. "What else am I?"

"So good with your fingers," you're moaning, and he's going to get a bigger ego than he already has. You're too far gone to care. "God, you're so good, I'm going to—"

"Yes, you are," he answers, and it takes you a second to realize that he's not correcting your words anymore. He's simply telling you that you are, in fact, about to fall apart for him. "Give it to me. You've earned it."

You almost want to snap back at him, you almost try to, but you're so far gone the words don't form on your tongue and you're not sure you'd be able to fight the fire pooling in your stomach.

"Oh, fuck—“

He doesn't even let you finish that, he just dips his hips down, bringing his hand that's not buried in your slick up to cover your mouth, muffling those strangled screams before they spill out and echo down the hall—

"That's it," he murmurs, his voice a low hum against your skin. "Be a good girl. Let it all out for me."

And it's that; that stupid combination of cooing warmth and the phrase 'be a good girl' that sends you over the edge, and you're muffling your gasps and moans and screams against his palm because gods, what would happen if someone heard you? What would happen if people realized what Tom Riddle was doing to you—your house rival, your sworn enemy—

"There we go," you're falling apart and he's watching you as if he owns you, as if this is where you belong—writhing beneath him, release squirting out around his fingers. "Ride it out for me. Such a good girl, you needed this so bad, I can tell you were aching for this."

You're struggling to say anything back, the only thing that comes out is a strangled moan of his name, and you've always known how bad he was, heard from other girls how good he could be with his hands, but this—you've never had this, never been this before.

"Such a fucking mess," he's murmuring, his voice low and rough and so goddamn beautiful. “How'd that feel? Hm?"

"So—so good," it feels like the words are being forced out of your throat, and you're struggling to think with enough clarity to form anything that's not an embarrassing moan of how much you needed this. "Needed it, need more, I—"

"More?" He murmurs as he slips his fingers free, and he's bringing his other hand up to your jaw, forcing you to look at him as he brings his soaked fingers to your lips. "Greedy girl."

You're not thinking about the implication of him calling you that, you're not thinking about how you should fight back, you're not thinking about how much you hate him—you’re just thinking about the sinful taste of you on his fingers, when they press against your tongue. Without a second of hesitation you suck them clean, tasting yourself, and it's obscene. You're obscene. But you don't care, it just makes that ache in you grow worse—you need more, you need him.

Dear god, what happened to you.

“So good," he murmurs, the praise dripping like honey from his tongue. You hum and he exhales. "I'll find you tomorrow."

"You'll find me tomorrow?" You repeat, as he withdraws his fingers from your mouth, and you're struggling for air, your chest heaving beneath your rumpled shirt. "What are you going to do, come into my room?"

"I'll come into much more than your room," he says, with a laugh that dances with promises of sin. "Now go. Before someone finds you here."

You push yourself up on trembling arms, pulling your pants up your thighs, your heart hammering in your chest because—god, that was incredible, you want more of it, and you can hardly even believe it happened. With a breath, you force yourself to move.

You look back at him as you get to the door. Your legs are shaking and you're not going to hold it against yourself for needing the wall to support you as his eyes rake over you, the corners of those lips curled up his signature smirk, and you want to hit him so goddamn bad—but then he speaks, like he read your mind, and it snaps you out of it—

"No dreams tonight." He says. "Scouts honour."

"You're no boy scout," you throw back, and your voice is a little breathier than you'd like. "And this changes nothing."

He smiles, slow and languid and knowing. "Of course."

You want to roll your eyes at the condescension dripping off his tongue, but you're worried that if you stay here any longer the only words on your tongue will be 'do it again'.

"You just owe me." You say as you crack the door open.

"I owe you," he agrees, and you think that his smile is just a little too genuine—like he would give you anything you wanted, just for another taste of that. “I'm keeping score, darling. Sleep well."

You hate him for calling you that, you hate his stupid smile, you hate the way he knows he's got you.

What he doesn’t know, is that you’re going to make him pay.

"Good night," you mutter, and then you open the door and slip out into the hallway.

[riddleswhcre]

────۶ৎ 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐑 𝟑𝟗𝟒

you were assigned to evaluate the most dangerous prisoner in azkaban. tom riddle was supposed to be nothing more than a case file. a psychological profile. a man stripped of power, locked away, rotting. but then you made a mistake.

warnings: smut, dubcon, knifeplay? (carving initials), pain + pleasure, fingering, overstimulation, possessive, manipulative tom, mind games & control themes.

if any of the above makes you uncomfortable, scroll away. you have been warned.

au more

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝

you should have never pushed him.

it was a game at first. a little power play between you and the most dangerous inmate in azkaban. prisoner 394, tom riddle. the man who ran circles around every other psychologist they'd assigned to him, until they gave up and threw you in the ring.

you were different. you didn’t play by their rules. you let him talk, let him smirk, let him watch you in that way that made lesser people shudder. but you never let him win.

until now.

because last session, you made a mistake.

you mocked him.

—

tom had been particularly smug that day, lounging in his chair like the chains on his wrists were merely decorative, like this prison was nothing more than an inconvenience. you had watched him, lips curling, head tilting in mock contemplation.

"all that power," you mused, voice dripping with condescension. "all that control you used to have. and now look at you."

tom's smirk didn't falter, but his fingers curled slightly against the armrest. you noticed. his jaw had clenched—just for a second. quick. nearly imperceptible. but you caught it. you had rattled him, and the victory had sent a thrill through you.

you should have known better.

—

because today, the door locks behind you. and this time, tom doesn’t sit.

there’s something different in the air, something that prickles against your skin before your mind even fully registers it. tom doesn’t smirk. he doesn’t taunt. he just watches you, dark and unreadable, as he takes a slow, measured step forward.

instinctively, you step back. a mistake. because the flicker of amusement in his gaze tells you he likes it—likes seeing you retreat, likes knowing you’re starting to understand.

"so quiet now, sweetheart," he murmurs. "where’s that sharp tongue of yours?"

his voice is soft, almost teasing, but there’s steel beneath it. control. a dangerous edge that sends a shiver racing down your spine.

another step, and your back meets the desk. you barely have a second to react before his hand finds your waist—firm, possessive, pressing you down as he leans in, breath ghosting over your ear.

"you wanted to play, didn’t you?" he hums. "wanted to test me? remind me of my place?"

his other hand lifts, and you don’t realise what he’s holding until the cool, unexpected press of something sharp meets your thigh.

you freeze.

"shhh, darling," he croons, his free hand splaying over your stomach, keeping you in place. "we’re just getting started."

he drags the tip of his quill over your skin—slow, teasing, letting you feel it before he presses just a little harder. the first cut is shallow, barely more than a scratch, but the sting makes your breath catch.

tom watches you, eyes half-lidded, as he carves.

T.

M.

R.

his name. his claim. the ink mixes with blood, smearing as his thumb drags over it, pressing down just enough to make you whimper. pain blooms hot and sharp, but the moment his palm slides higher, fingers trailing the inside of your thigh, your body betrays you. heat coils in your stomach, the line between agony and pleasure blurring into something intoxicating.

"so beautifully marked."

he leans in, mouth dragging against your throat.

"so utterly mine." he chuckles, breath warm against your cheek. "you're shaking," he murmurs, thumb tracing the fresh carving. "is it from the pain, darling? or something else?"

you don’t get a chance to answer before his fingers press higher, teasing, just barely brushing over the damp fabric between your legs. a broken gasp slips from your lips, and tom hums, pleased.

"already soaked for me," he muses. "and you call me pathetic."

your mind is spinning, but your body knows exactly what it wants. hips tilting, legs parting. tom notices, because of course he does. his fingers press harder, rubbing slow, lazy circles that make your knees tremble.

"that’s it," he murmurs, lips brushing your temple. "let me see how weak you really are."

“you had so much to say last time.” his fingers trail the wood beside you, deceptively casual. “now, nothing?”

your breath stutters.

“p-please—”

he laughs, dark and amused. “oh, no. you don’t get to beg now. you’re gonna take everything i give you. and then you’re gonna thank me.”

the desk digs into your thighs as he presses closer, his body a wall of heat and power. shackles hang loose around his wrists, the chain between them long enough to allow movement. you know he’s done something to them. manipulated the guards, twisted the security measures to suit his whims. because tom riddle never plays fair.

you shudder as his hand finds your throat, not squeezing, just a weight, a reminder.

“you thought you could control me?” he murmurs, dragging his lips along your jaw, your pulse fluttering wildly beneath his touch. “thought you could use that pretty mouth to put me in my place?”

your fingers curl against the desk, nails biting into the wood.

he chuckles, a dark rasp against your skin. “i do love watching you struggle, darling. but we both know how this ends.”

“so sensitive,” he purrs. “wonder how much more you can take.”

“that’s it,” he murmurs, lips brushing your temple. “let me see how weak you really are.”

when he finally pushes the fabric aside and slides a single finger through your slick, you whimper, a sound you barely recognise escaping your lips. his responding groan is filthy, low and pleased.

“fuck, listen to you,” he breathes. “so desperate already.”

he presses the tip of his finger inside you, just enough to tease, to drive you mad. you bite your lip, a useless attempt to stifle the sounds spilling from your mouth. but he’s having none of it.

a sharp nip at your throat makes you gasp, and in that moment, he sinks a second finger in, stretching you open.

“good girl,” he praises, voice dripping with satisfaction. ”taking my fingers so well.”

your head falls back, eyes fluttering shut as he works you open, fingers curling just right, dragging over that spot that makes you tremble. he knows exactly where to press, where to stroke, and he does it with excruciating precision—slow at first, teasing, like he's savouring every moment of your unraveling.

the slick sounds of your arousal mix with the sharp gasps you can’t contain, each one only encouraging him. he pulls his fingers out almost entirely before sinking them back in, deeper this time, dragging against every sensitive nerve until your thighs are trembling with the effort to stay upright.

"feel that?" he whispers, lips brushing against your ear, his voice dark, taunting. "how your body gives in to me so easily? you're dripping, darling. soaking my fingers like you were made for this."

his thumb presses against your clit, a calculated roll that has you gasping, your nails digging into his forearms. he does it again, harder this time, a slow, devastating rhythm that has heat coiling low in your stomach, the tension winding tighter, unbearable.

"come on," he purrs, fingers working faster, thrusting deeper, his thumb relentless against that aching bundle of nerves. "give it to me, love. let me see you fall apart." your hands fly to his arms, gripping hard, but he doesn’t stop. doesn’t slow.

“look at you,” he murmurs, dragging his tongue over the shell of your ear. “falling apart for the man you thought you could control.”

your release builds fast, overwhelming, and he knows. he knows, because his smirk presses against your cheek as he picks up the pace.

“cum for me,” he orders, voice dark and commanding. “cum for the man who owns you now.”

you shatter.

a strangled cry escapes your lips as you arch against him, thighs shaking, body writhing beneath his relentless touch. he doesn’t let up, working you through every pulse, every wave, until you’re gasping, overstimulated, gripping onto him for support.

tom hums in satisfaction, finally withdrawing his fingers. he lifts them to his lips, eyes locked on yours as he licks them clean, a low groan vibrating in his chest.

“sweet as sin,” he murmurs.

your legs barely hold you up, but tom isn’t done. he grips your chin, tilting your head up, forcing you to meet his gaze.

“same time next week, doctor.”

and with that, he steps back, leaving you trembling, ruined, and entirely at his mercy.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝

thank you for reading. reblogs & feedback appreciated.

[jakegyllenbaalz]

tom hardy myspace rabbit hole is not for the weak

[tomssexdoll]

The Gift of Forever

PAIRINGS: Tom 2010 x Female reader

CONTENT: SMUT + FLUFF

SYPNOSIS: It was Y/N's birthday and Tom surprised her by coming home early and showering her with attention, love and gifts. Tom was very busy due to his rockstar career, barely being home. Near the end of the day Tom set up a makeshift dinner outside on the patio, when Y/N opens her last present she's met with something she's been wanting for so long..

REQ AND A/N: Heyyy, soo I have a requestttt. So my birthday is coming up on the 10th and I was js wondering if you could do a 2010 fluff/rough smut dom tom x sub fem reader, basically where it’s the readers birthday and Tom js makes the whole day about her and gives her a “birthday present” at the end of the day. Pretty please and thank you<3 (Btw ur stories are the bestttt!)

HAPPY LATE BIRTHDAY TO ANON!!! ILYSM, TYSM FOR THE SUPPORT MY LOVE!!!!!

WARNINGS: dom!tom, sub!reader, p in v (missionary), eating out

It was my birthday, me and Tom had been together for years. He was a famous rockstar, the guitarist for his band Tokio Hotel. He was always quite busy, his album Humanoid going crazy viral and them having gigs all the time. They usually played shows all over Europe, leaving me behind in the process.

I was quite lonely without Tom, he always made up for it of course but I always missed him, the calls not enough. Despite his hectic schedule, Tom carved out a whole week for my birthday. He managed to sneak back home a day earlier than I expected, catching a late night flight just to be with me.

That morning he snuck into the house, he set up balloons, streamers, all kinds of decor to surprise me with. He placed all the presents he got me on the table but had the most important in his pocket. He tip toed to the bedroom, his eyes fixed on my peaceful, sleeping form. He saw the pillow I was holding in my arms, his eyes softening as he realized I must've slept most nights like this, the pillow being a replacement of him.

He slowly climbed onto the bed, gently wrapping his arms around my waist, burying his face in my hair to inhale my familiar scent, the one that felt like home. I stirred awake and turned to look behind me, my eyes widening as I saw Toms face, illuminated by the small amount of light peeking from the windows.

His face broke into a wide grin at my surprised expression. "Happy birthday, mein schatz.." he whispered softly, his German accent more prominent as it usually was when he was emotional. "Missed me?" he chuckled softly, "oh Tom!" I turned around and hugged him tightly, burying my face into his chest. "I didn't think you'd come back for my birthday..I thought you forgot.." I said, my voice slightly muffled.

He hugged me back fiercely, also missing me as much as I missed him, his strong arms enveloping me completely. "How could I forget my girlfriends birthday? You mean everything to me.." he murmured into my hair, his fingers gently tangling through the strands. "I always come back for your birthday, no matter what.." he whispered, pressing a lingering kiss on my forehead.

I always felt safe with Tom, he always took care of me and made sure I knew I was loved. "Speaking of birthdays...why don't you come downstairs and I'll show you the real surprise?" at his words I practically sprung out of bed, a loud chuckle leaving his lips at my excitement.

I threw on a loose t shirt and shorts, running downstairs like a kid on Christmas. Tom watched with a huge smile on his face. When I reached the bottom step I saw the huge bouquet of red roses tied with a beautiful black ribbon. There were also large boxes, small and medium ones wrapped in gold paper. "You did all of this...for me?" I looked around, confused, "you even wrapped the presents?" I finally turned back and looked at him, a grateful smile on my face.

He heard my sweet voice and smiled, "yes baby, I wrapped them myself." He was silent for a moment then called out again, "go on, open them." With a huge grin I practically attacked the presents, ripping the gold paper open.

He watched as I enthusiastically opened my gifts, leaning casually against the wall. "You know, your reaction is the best part of celebrating your birthday, you're absolutely adorable.." he smiled, his words genuine. I looked back at him and my eyes softened, my lips curved into a gentle smile, "that means so much baby..I love you.." I turned back to the present. When I saw what was inside, his heart swelled at my pure joy.

The first box held an elegant diamond pendant necklace, delicate and expensive. "Do you like it love?" he asked softly. I turned around, "do I like it? Babe I love it!" I ran up to him and hugged him tightly. "You remembered I wanted this so bad..I've been talking about it for months.." I looked up at him, adoration in my eyes.

He grinned, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me close. "Of course I remembered, I always remember everything you want," he leaned down and kissed my forehead tenderly. "Open the next one.." he said, nodding toward the second box.

It went on like that for an hour, opening all the presents he got me, I was happy with each and every one, all of them having had a lot of thought put into them. That's what I loved about Tom, he didn't get me random designer bags or perfume or jewlery, he got me things that I loved, things he knew would make me this happy.

As the last present was unwrapped Tom couldn't help but smile at my pure joy and excitement. He had poured his heart into every gift, wanting to make this birthday special after being for so long. He knelt down beside me, taking my hands in his, his expression turning softer, "follow me baby..close your eyes, let me lead you.." I nodded and got up, closing my eyes.

He guided me carefully through the house, his hands gently holding mine. He led me to the backyard, the cool evening air filling my lungs as I stepped outside. He gently guided me to a specific spot, making sure I stayed closed-eyed. After a moment he stopped and placed his hands on my shoulders.

"Open your eyes love.." he said softly. When I opened them I was met with the sun just starting to set, the warm orange glow casting over everything. The patio was decorated with fairy lights, candles and a large banner that read, 'happy birthday', in bold letters.

"Oh tom.." I gasped, "this is absolutely beautiful..you did this all while I was asleep?" he chuckled, "duh, you're my everything, you deserve to be spoiled," he said, pulling out a chair at the table, spread with my favourite foods. "Sit, baby.." he ordered softly, "I have something else," he pulled out another small, wrapped box, making me smile again.

I opened it, expecting jewlery again but when I flipped the top of the box I saw a beautiful, diamond ring. My eyes widened, I looked back at him as he got on one knee, taking the box from me. He looked up at me with his piercing brown eyes, his usually stern expression now open and vulnerable.

"You always make everything so easy.." he started, his voice cracking slightly, "you make coming home worth it, you make my life complete..will you marry me, my love?" he smiled softly. My heart raced and tears streamed down my face, "yes! oh my god yes!" I practically jumped into his arms and kissed him passionately.

He pulled back to slip the ring onto my finger, admiring how it looked on me. "You're gonna be my wife.." he whispered against my lips, smiling like an idiot, "god i love you.." I smashed my lips into his again, he deepened the kiss, his hands roaming over my body possessively.

When he broke away he nuzzled into my neck, placing gentle kisses there, "mmh..i'm gonna make love to you all night long.." he smirked, his hands sliding under my shirt. I jumped up into his arms, he caught he effortlessly, laughing as he carried me inside the house, kicking the door closed behind him.

He started walking upstairs, his lips finding mine again as he carried me to the bedroom. He gently laid me down on the bed, standing up to remove his shirt, revealing his chiselled chest. I looked up at him, practically drooling at his defined abs.

He smirked at my hungry expression, unbuttoning his jeans slowly. He knew my favourite sight, his V line disappearing into his boxers. He flexed his muscles unconsciously, watching me bite my lip. "Like what you see..?" he asked softly, pushing down his jeans. "Don't ask me that.." I gasped, watched as he trailed down my body, down to my lower stomach.

He hooked his fingers in my shorts, slowly pulling them down, revealing my legs. He spread them apart, kneeling between them. He ran his hands up my thighs possessively, his eyes locked onto mine. Slowly, he lifted my legs, hooking them over his shoulders. He leaned in close, his breath hot against my inner thigh, sending tingles down my spine.

He placed feather light kisses there before trailing upward, teasing me mercilessly. His hands slid under my ass, gripping it firmly as he got into position. He slowly slid my panties off, ducking his head down and ran his tongue along my slit teasingly. He moaned at my taste, his grip on my ass tightening.

He circled my clit with the tip of his tongue before sucking it between his lips gently. I rolled my eyes back, the pleasure slowly building up, "ohhh fuck..." I groaned, arching my back slightly.

He smirked, knowing exactly what to do to drive me crazy. He spread my legs wider, lifting me up slightly for better access. His tongue delved into my dripping pussy, alternating between that and flicking his tongue over my clit, causing me to let out a long string of moans, my hands desperately grabbing at the sheets, fisting them.

He licked and sucked at my sensitive clit, feeling me writhe beneath him. Occasionally he'd glance up to watch my facial expressions, noting how my lips parted in moans and my eyes rolling back in pleasure. "My birthday girl..so beautiful, you deserve everything..." he groaned, picking up his speed.

He continued his relentless attack on my clit, his tongue flicking rapidly over my sensitive bud, sucking hard, "taste so fucking good, fuck you're so sexy.." he growled. My cries of pleasure spurred him on, and he slid two thick fingers deep into my pussy, curling them upwards to stroke my g spot, while his tongue worked my clit.

I moaned loudly, my chest heaving and my back arching off the bed as the pleasure became unbearable but in a good way. He growled softly, his fingers pumping faster in my pussy, his mouth covering my entire sex, slurping loudly. "So good..love you so much.." he mumbled against my core. He felt my inner muscles contract around his fingers, knowing I was close.

"Fuck! I'm so close, keep fucking going!" I yelped, he could feel my body tensing, ready to explode with my release. He wrapped his strong arms around my hips and pulled me even closer to his face, he sucked hard on my swollen bud, his fingers doubling their effort and pumping even harder, trying to make me cum harder than I ever had before.

I gasped and felt my orgasm wash over me in intense waves, my legs trembling from my orgasm. He moaned deeply as he felt my pussy spasm against his fingers, he continued to lick and suck through my climax, prolonging my pleasure. Finally he slowed his motions, gently kissing my sensitive clit before pulling away.

I watched as he slid down his boxers, grabbing my legs and sliding me closer, our hips touching. Toms thick, throbbing cock pressed against my pussy, still sensitive from all the attention from before. He rubbed the head against my folds, coating himself in my juices before lining himself up.

He looked into my eyes, his own dark with desire, before pushing forward and slamming his entire length inside me in one powerful thrust. "Fuck!" I gasped, my hands flying to his biceps, holding on tightly as he began to move. He wrapped his strong arms around my waist, pulling me to his chest.

We were chest to chest, he began thrusting his massive member deep inside me, rolling his hips against mine. He leaned down and captured my lips in a passionate kiss, filling me completely before pulling back slightly, only to slam forward again. With each powerful thrust he hit my cervix, driving me wild.

He groaned loudly, feeling my slick walls grip his cock with each deep thrust. He angled his hips, targeting my g spot with precision. One hand slid up to my hair, tangling in it. He laid me back down and started to pick up his pace, beginning his relentless fucking.

"Oh fuck, Tom!" I gasped, my eyes rolling back slightly. He loved hearing his name on my lips, "that's it baby..take that big cock.." he murmured, snapping his hips forward harder, causing the bed to creek loudly. My tits bounced with each thrust, making him grow impossibly harder. He wrapped my legs around his waist, going even deeper. He gritted his teeth, feeling me clench around him.

He could feel another release building up quickly inside me. He curled his hips upward, hitting that spot inside me that drove me wild. He growled softly, "you're so god damn sexy, watching my cock disappear in you..fuckkk..." his body glistened with sweat as he pounded into me, his abs flexing with each powerful thrust.

I felt a knot form in my stomach, indicating that I was close. He leaned down and kissed my neck and jawline, sucking softly to leave little marks everywhere he went. "You're perfect...so perfect, 'm sorry im not around a lot, god i love you.." he whispered, his breath hot against my ear.

"Look at me baby..look at me while I fuck you.." he pulled back from my neck, grabbing my chin to face him. "You're mine..only mine baby.." I nodded, leaning in and kissing him passionately. He doubled his efforts, feeling his own release approaching along with mine.

"Baby I'm close.." I whispered insistently against his soft lips. His breath hitched as he realized I was on the edge again and he wasted no time, snapping his hips faster and faster, his cock plunging deep into my soaked pussy. He reached in between our bodies and rubbed my clit furiously, our lips continuously crashing together.

With one final thrust my orgasm crashed down, rippling through my body. He felt my pussy clamp down on him tightly, reeling him in. He thrust deep and held himself there, his own release surging through him. His cum flooded my insides, painting my walls white as he pulsed rhythmically.

"Holy fuck.." he panted, collapsing on top of me. Our chests heaved in unison as he tried to calm down from both of our mind shattering orgasms. He placed soft, breathy kisses to my neck and cheeks, running his hands lovingly down my sides.

When he regained his stamina he slid up the bed, pulling me with him in his arms. "Best birthday ever.." I panted, a lazy smile on my flushed face. He chuckled and kissed me softly, "I'm glad babe..you deserve the world.." he gentle caressed my hair, lulling me to sleep.

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

tags: @ella1289 @billsdolliest @tomscumdoll

tags: @tomsfuckdoll @tomkslut @miyukafujii

tags: @itsangelll

[st4rfckerz]

clark kent is the kind of guy to plan out his entire future with you while he’s balls deep and absolutely pussy drunk. his body is pressed against yours with his head buried in the crook of your neck, breathing heavily while making scarcely comprehensible promises in your ear. the fantasies swirl in his mind, becoming more vivid as he gets closer and closer.

“ ‘m gonna marry you, a-and we can have a farm of our own, ah- and a big house with kids, fuck…jus’ want it all with you please.” and then in true clark fashion he gets a tad embarrassed about what he said after he’s done, but you both know he really means it.

[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.

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tom kaulitz, tom, kaulitz, kaulitz twins