#tom v. main

[hellsgreatestshow]

@tmitrench from ⛧⸸⛤

She was so close when he opened his eyes. She was just looking at him as her fingers hooked into the holes of the mouthpiece. Her little body was just vibrating with excitement. He smelled seasoned with fear and a hint of something else. It was making her mouth water.

"Yeah yeah, me." She said jumped on his chest. "You are bad, I like that." She released him to drop to the ground.

[theiinkwiitch]

Tag Dump!: Carol The Ink Witch!

[rcxylancelct-mcrtcn]

Disaster. If there was anything she thought about mission execution, it's that it was a disaster. Even if it wasn't thoroughly a hopeless case, the knew she could have done better. Where was the lack? Was it in assuming too soon, bearing less patience than usual at the time of confrontation? Was it feeling embarrassed at confronting the wrong person? Was it at pursuing the mission despite the minimal information? She wasn't certain.

For the meantime, however, she chose not to dwell. With Merlin's blessing, Roxy took the next day off, dressed in more casual wear, though wore her glasses. A just in case. She took a stroll through St. James, leisurely in pace, distracted, hoping she needn't have to deal with work, already considering to convince Merlin that they put a pin on the mission and move towards finding Matthew and making him forget.

Tom looked at his 'house' and then looked back at her again. He wasn't exactly sure how he was going to thank her, but a shoulder pat wasn't what he would have done. The fact she had done that to him, made him think. "You haven't." He told her and was about to get his keys out of his pocket when he realized what she had said. "I didn't tell you her name..." he started but she had already left.

Of course, as soon as he had got in the safe house, he had taken his coat off and found the tracker. Shaking his head, he was about to destroy it when he thought better of that. He could stay here, destroy the tracker the following morning and then any questions if he bumped into her again could be answered with his coat had gone in the wash. That is exactly what he did the next morning, before heading into work. Deciding to walk through St James.

[simpingforheros]

I need more of the Jason Todd wife’s story cause you ATEEEE

Jason Broke What??

Pairing: Jason Todd X Female! Reader

Summary: Dick played stupid games and won stupid prizes, but at least he got to see his sister in law’s ass.

Warning: 18+, NSFW CONTENT, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, Not Proofread . Female Pronouns and Anatomy, Dirty talk, Degeragtion/Praise, Violence Against Richard Grayson, Smut, Fluff, Comedy, P in V, Illusions to Anal (fem receiving), Voyeurism, Oral (p and a) (fem receiving), Fingering (fem receiving), Implied Heavy Petting, Nonconsensual Peeping Tom, Masturbation, and plot twist.

A/N: Part 3 to Jason’s Girl?? And Jason’s Wife?! . And again, I'm sorry to keep harassing you Pookie, @jjenthusee, but I feel its only right that you be tagged in the conclusion of this trilogy because you started all of this.

A/N: IM BACK, BABES! You miss me? I miss you all. Thanks for the thoughts and prayers during my break to take care of my family. Also if this fic seems rough, I was writing this in my car during break. Also, I know one of my big no-nos is accepting requests for full fanfics but I had an idea and if the masses want to see more of Dick's misery then I wanna feed yall.

*******************************************************

The holidays were everyone’s favorite time of the year. Especially Bruce and Alfred’s. Surprisingly, Bruce developed a love for them later in his adult life due to his years of constantly having to play Santa to his growing hoard of sidekicks. Now with a manor full of teens and children from multiple different backgrounds and cultures, Alfred proposes a family trip to their private ski resort.

Everything was going smoothly. Tim, Bernard, and Stephane were enjoying ice skating along the frozen lake while Duke, Cass, and Damian were skiing down large hills and mountains trying to out do the other. Bruce and Selina were of course mostly confined to their bedroom, only venturing out for a dinner date or to spend time with the family, while Alfred enjoyed taking a break from everyone doing whatever he delighted himself in doing.

Everyone was happy..

Except for Dick. This year was one of the worst for him. Kori started officially dating Roy Harper after some mission she was involved in with the Outlaws and Barbra didn’t want to see him anymore. And to make matters worse, Jason and his wife of a year were all over each other.

Dick couldn’t even do anything without his brother being there, unintentionally rubbing his healthy love life in his face.

Wanted to go skiing? Jason was already there. His large hands were sturdy on (Y/N)'s back as he was showing her as she was balancing on a snowboard. Her curves were highlighted in the snow by her red snowsuit that just so happened to match Jason's black and red suit. Her eyes light up through her snow goggles as she successfully maneuvers around the terrain with Jason's loud praises.

Wanted to go ice skating? The Todds were already there stumbling over each other as Jason's normally composed stance wavers in his ice skates as his blushing wife giggles and helps him slowly adjust to the new feeling of unease. For a viglieante, he certainly didn't skate like one. Dick wasn't exactly fond of witnessing his younger brother purposefully comp a feel of (Y/N)'s perky ass as he 'stumbles' into her.

Even relaxing in the main room of the huge million dollar cabin was impossible as the moment the moon shines bright in the sky or the sun barely kisses their existence, Jason and (Y/N) were so domestically in tune with the room. It was almost like witnessing a Hallmark movie.

The couple would be in the kitchen with Jason preparing a simple soup with her propped up on the counter, ready to taste the soup when he offered her the wooden spoon. A mischievous glint in her eyes as she looked up into his own as she hums at the taste. Dick nearly cringes when he witnesses Jason's sideways smirk as he flexes his hand on her hip.

Sometimes the couple would be sitting on the sofa near the fire. A thick wool blanket wrapped around them as they relaxed into each other. Dick tries not to acknowledge them. Not to recognize the softness of Jason's features as he lazily enjoys his wife's nails lightly scratching his scalp. Not to recognize her plump lips curving deeper as the blanket shifts slightly and Jason's hand caresses her thigh higher than he should. It was especially bad when they would whisper into each other's ears before the pair would hurrily go to their room in a whisper of an excuse of faux exhaustion before giggling as they lock themselves away.

Thankfully, they did those sinful acts of love away from Dick at least. .. Or so he thought.... ++++++++++++++++++++++++++

It was a skiing accident that started the whole ordeal.

The Bat family had been skiing down the steepest hill they could find out of Stephanie and Damian's petty competition that everyone decided to get involved in. The only members that weren't there were Alfred, who demanded that none of the family ever mention putting him in skiis anywhere near his presence, and the Todds.

Much to Dick's relief, (Y/N) was feeling a bit nauseous and decided to stay behind along with the concerned Red Hood.

Unfortunately, the friendly competition took a turn when Dick accidentally sleds over a rock which caused him to fly off his skis and tumble down the hill. The fiery ache in his arm gave the acrobat a headache as he desperately hoped he didn't break his arm in a lame skiing accident.

"Son of a bitch!" He curses as Bruce skies down to check on him.

"Are you alright?" His adoptive father asks as he carefully helps him up. Dick's eye watering as he jerks his injured arm away from Bruce as he accidentally brushes against it.

Bruce notices the jerk and immediately takes the arm in a gentle grasp as he clinically flexes and prodes at the appendage. Dick nearly cursing as Selina and Damian come down to check on him.

"I don't think its anything too serious," Bruce says as he pulls away. "At worst, you probably have a hairline fracture in it. Alfred would have to check it out just to make sure."

Selina, acting as the pseudo- stepmother figure she was, gently places a hand on Dick's shoulder as she ask, "Do you need me to drop you off at the cabin?"

The eldest son shakes his head before grumbling, "I can make it back on my own. I could use some alone time anyway."

+++++++++++++++++++++++

Unfortunately, Dick doesn't find Alfred when he comes back to the cabin after walking back in the cold snow. Only a note reading,

'I've gone to an event at the main resort tonight. Please contact me through the main resort hotline and I promise to get back to you- Alfred'

"Fucking great..." Dick groans as he decides to just head to bed. His body aches from the trauma of the fall as he drags his feet up the large staircase and up to the main hallway towards the suites bedrooms. It wasn't until a faint but familiar sound that caused the fatigue in him to melt.

The familiar sound of breathlessness that he had only heard one angel sing before. (Y/N)...

As he discreetly walked down the hallway, the melody of whines and moans filled his ears along with the familiar sounds of slurping and squelching.

The cracked door to Pandora's Box calling to him as he hears the whimpers of, "Fuck, baby...."

"Ah not there! Its so embarrassing...."

"Jason, more..."

Dick peers into the door to see something that he wished he could snap a picture of and keep forever just like he did those videos.

Sprawled out on the bed was her in all of her glory. Her skin glowing in perspiration and pleasure as she lays with her cheek pressed against the mattress with her round globes of flesh in the air. Her eyes clouded with tears and desperation as she looks over her shoulder to her lover as her glossy lips whimper.

Jason was only in his tight black boxers as his hand squished the soft flesh of her cheek to the side. His eyes staring back into hers with the same pathetic lust and dominance that he always had as he eats her out from behind. His nose appearing and disappearing in the crack as his tongue plays a cruel game of tag.

His slow, lugritive strokes down to her puffy clit interchange with the rough darting over her pulsing hole before sofly licking up to her puckered hole. His fingers never leaving her neglected as he would hold her pussy open before lazily playing with her clit in between licks.

"Jason, quit being a tease..." She whines before yelping as he roughly pinches her clit. His mouth pulling away from her as she whines.

He begins to slowly tease her folds as he scolds her softly, "I didn't ask for you to be ungrateful."

Her hips jittering to regain some friction before he smacks her ass as he continues. Her whimpers of pain causing Dick's own cock to jump in his pants as he tries to ignore his brother as he kept his eyes on (Y/N). His hand slowly releasing his cock from his ski pants as he continues to watch the scene before him.

"Here I am trying to take care of you after you've been sick all day and all I get in return is some sass." Jason scolds cruelly before he inserts two fingers roughly into her cunt. Her cheeks burning hot under her tear stained skin as her body welcomes him with a sicking squelch as she mumbles.

"I-i'm sorry baby..."

Jason's gaze softens before a mocking look of sympathy appears on his face as he begins to thrust his fingers into her. The slight curve of his hand memorizing her body as he instantly found her G-Spot as she cries in pleasure.

"It's okay, Ma." He coos as he presses open kisses to her shoulders and back as he begins to brutally pound her cunt with his fingers. Her eyes jumping back into her skull as he continues to assault her senses as he says.

"You can't help it that you are sick as a dog in the mornings and then a raging whore at night...Afterall," Jay whispers as his mouth slowly decends back down her body. "Little bit isn't making this easy for you, is she?"

She desperately nods as she tries to roll her hips back to meet his hand as he chuckles at her. "It's alright. I'll take care of you, Baby, but I want you to take care of me too. We are family..."

His mouth instantly attacks her puckered asshole just as she seizes up and orgasms as her eyes roll back into her skull. Her desperate sobs turn into overstimulated whimpers as Jason doesn't let up on her abused holes.

It wasn't until she was still that he raised up and pulled his boxers down. His smirk grew to a shit-eating grin as despite her tired face, she wiggled her hips, ready for him to take her.

"Ass or Cunt?"Jason asks as he jerks his bright angry cock.

Her lips curl in a lazy grin as she says, "Both."

"That's my girl." He says as he lines his tip up with her pussy as he slowly pushes in.

Her whimper along with his groan of relief as his hips slowly meet hers. His upper body bends down to meet her lips in a deep kiss as his hips meet her ass. His hand slides around the plushness of her hip to rest on her lower stomach as he whispers to her mouth.

"Maybe it's not too late to give Little Bit a sibling."

She giggles before she presses another peck to his lips before he rises back up to place his foot adjacent to her knee. Not giving her any more time to adjust, his hips begin to slowly thrust into her quivering body as his hand keeps a tight grip on her asscheek, spreading her open. His cerulean eyes trained on the creamy ring that was slowly developing on the base of his thick cock as he disappears deep inside her.

"Jason..." (Y/N) whimpers as his pace begins to increase.

"God, how is she still so tight?" He groans as his hips begin to snap into hers, his eyes wide as he watches her ass ripple at the growing intensity of his thrusts.

Dick's own hand tries to match the pace as he tries to imagine he was the one fucking her instead of Jason. That he wasn't the one pathetically fucking his fist outside of his brother's room with his other arm possibly fractured.

Her face contorting in pure ecstasy as her manicured nails tear into the comforter. Her wedding rings shining in the low light of the room as Jason's own wedding band disappears in her hair. His grip looks unforgiving as he forces her head deeper into the mattress. His free hand stretching as his thumb circles her ass with light pressure as she cries into the plush bedding.

"Fuck you look so pretty." Jason moans as he slowly fucks his thumb centimeter by centimeter into her ass as gently as he could as his hips abuse her cunt. "I wonder how much prettier you would look with my cum dripping out of his cute little ass and pussy. You think everyone will notice you limping?"

He chuckles as he manages to fill her to the first knuckle as he stops his pace to grind into her, letting the feeling of him invading both of her hole and filling her sink in.

Her hips trembling as she tries to create more friction as her sobful begging wasn't even intelligible as he kept her head down. From the impossibly growing slick on his thighs, it was obvious that her orgasm was coming again and soon as Jason's free hand releases her hair and instead pulls her up flushed against his chest.

Her wanton cries filling the room as she was now exposed for the first time to the room. Her bare breast were littered in dark hickies as Jason's hand comes to paw at her tits. Her arms reaching back as one tangles at the nape of his neck and the other cupping his ass, encouraging him to continue.

"Please..." She begs as trembles in his hold. "Please fuck me...fuck all my holes please. I'm yours to do as you please..."

Jason smiles softly before kissing her cheek. "Good girl...that's my good, sweet little wife..."

His praises never end as his hips begin to snap into her at a brutal pace. Both of their voices became higher in pitch as they began to get lost in each other.

"That's it. Take it. Take it all. It's all for you and you only."

"You're doing so good. No one has such a soft, loving heart and cunt like yours..."

"I love you so much."

"I love you too" She manages to reply back before it hits her.

It was then that she screamed out Jason's name as her coil snapped inside her. Her eyes roll back again as her walls squeeze his cock as he follows her with a rough cry.

Dick quickly covers his mouth as his own orgasm hits him after he managed to not make a mess and not be discovered so far.

The base of Jason's cock is a mess as their releases flow down and drip before the pair calms down with a soft kiss on each other's lips. His cock pulls out of her as he massages her lower stomach gently as he pulls away. His eyes shone in pure admiration and concern.

"You okay?" Jason asks softly as he cups her face.

Her tired eyes staring at his lovingly as she whispers. "Yea...Can I have some water before we go again?"

They both smirk at eachother before Jason pecks her lips as he mumbles. "You're insatiable."

He stands up from the bed as she collapses into the pillow. He pulls on his boxers and heads to the door before Dick even recognizes out of his lust full daze. He didn't have time to react as Jason swings open the door to the pathetic sight before him.

Dick 'Motherfucking' Grayson was peeping into his brother's room. Watching his brother making love to his wife. And jerking off to it.

Before Dick could explain, Jason's face twists in anger as his cold glare indicating that this maybe Nightwing's last day on Earth.

"YOU SON OF A BITCH!"

And like that Dick tries to run away back down the large stair case as Jason chases him to beat his ass. Karma is an ugly bitch because just as the front door was opening, Dick violently twists away from Jason's grasps so hard that he tumbles down the stairs with a large crack and several gasps indicating the end of the vacation.

And that was the story of how Jason broke Dick's arm and little Richard after he caught him being a weirdo.

+++++++++++++

A/N: I swear I'm not a Dick Grayson hater, but I think its kind of tradition now to always rip on him in this miniseries. I hope y'all enjoyed it and please comment what you liked and didn't like about this. I swear I'll actually start cleaning out my drafts soon.

+++++++++++

@simpingforheros fanfic. I DO NOT CONDONE OR CONSENT TO MY POSTS OR WORKS BEING PUBLISHED, PLAGERIZED, STOLEN, REBLOGGED, OR COPIED ONTO ANY OTHER WEBSITE OR BLOG.

[mydear-corinthian]

one more night

synopsis: the relationship was too toxic but you just cannot break up with him because..

pairing: thomas shelby x reader

warnings: SMUT +18, dubcon, p in v, oral sex (f!receiving), breeding kink, squirting, creampie toxic relationship, mentions of arguments & cheating

notes: based by maroon 5's song: "one more night", divider by cafekitsune

main masterlist | peaky blinders masterlist | cillian murphy masterlist

Your relationship with Thomas Shelby is indeed toxic. He often arrives home late. Even if you were only seated next to him, you flirted with women in the pub. Not even during the day was he there spending time with you. The both of you cannot end a day without an argument. "War" is the fitting word to describe your relationship.

You were starting to decide whether to end the relationship, but the question is, how?

The man gave you a big house for your family, food to eat, money, expensive clothing and jewelry, everything but affection.

The only affection you both had was sex.

Sex with Tommy was the best experience that you had. He has more experience than you, but that doesn't matter since he knows how to satisfy you.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the door opening. He was home— needy, like always.

"Got a fucking long day. I need you," he whispered, locking the door immediately and grabbing your waist to kiss you.

You can never—ever— say no to having sex with this man. He was fucking brilliant.

You kissed him back, tasting the whiskey on his tongue as your tongues danced with each other. Tommy began to undress his suit, unbuttoning it one by one in a hurry, not even breaking the kiss.

He carried you and placed you on the sofa in front of your shared bed. Your hands lifted your shirt, exposing your hardened breast.

No, you've got to stop this. All he does to you is sex and nothing more. You're not his wife anymore; you're his sex toy.

"No— Tom, stop," you whined, feeling his hot breath on your neck as he marked it.

"Why? You don't want this?" Tommy asked, continuing to kiss your neck.

"Yes— no! I want to break up."

His lips are no longer on your neck. His eyes finally met yours.

"Break up?"

"All we do is sex and nothing more— I mean, we're married. We have things to do aside from sex."

"You're funny," that's all Tommy said before kissing you once again. You try to break the kiss, but your body tells you to want more. His rough palms cupped your breast and sucked it like a madman, making you moan out loud.

Tommy's fingers traced your stomach until your soaking wet cunt. You gasped at his touch as you felt his finger massage your clothed clit.

"No— stop, Tom. We can't do this any— oh God!"

"Your body tells you otherwise, sweetheart," Tommy chuckled. He removed your white underwear and tossed it on the floor. Feeling the cold breeze touch your exposed cunt, you arched your back.

"You're telling me to stop but your tight cunt keeps on clenching on my finger."

Tommy continued to pump his finger in and out of your drenched hole while eating you out. His tongue swayed figure eights on your sensitive bud, enjoying your taste. Tommy added another finger, fingering you aggressively, hitting that spongy spot again and again and again.

The wet noise made you feel embarrassed— guilty. Your eyes fully shut, grabbing a fistful of his curly hair to pull him even more closer to your cunt. Your head rolled back in pleasure,

Feeling that familiar knot on your stomach, you moaned like a whore, clenching on his mouth. "I'm so close, Tom."

"Don't stop, please— mmf!"

"Go on. Be a good girl and cum on my face, sweetheart. You're doing so well." he praised and continued to devour you.

Finally coiling up that feeling, you arched your back and moaned. You squirted, a mix of your juice and your white cum staining his mouth and face.

Out of all the men who had sex with, Thomas Shelby is the only man who made you fucking squirt.

"Fuck, baby— you always taste so good," Tommy said before standing up, ready to leave.

"Wait!"

His head turned, a smirk planted on his face.

"What is it?"

"I want.. more," you embarrassingly admitted. You bit your bottom lip, showing him your drenched hole. "Please, Tom."

"I thought you want to end this," he asked sarcastically.

"Just.. one more night," you begged.

Tommy walked towards you again, removing his boxers, freeing out his hardened cock. You bit again your lips at the sight. He really is big.

He pumped his shaft for awhile before positioning himself in front of your hole and take you whole. The feeling of his fat cock enter your tight whole made you wince. Tommy's arms embraced your shoulder as he started to move inside you. You rolled your head as soon as the pain started to become pleasuring.

"We've fucked a lot of times but you're still so tight."

Tommy's pace fastened. Your breasts swayed up and down at every harsh thrusts he makes. Your moans and groans filled the entire room. You felt his balls slap below your whole, letting out skin slapping noises which makes you even more turned on.

"Tom— oh God— yes, yes yes!" you moaned, interlocking your legs together on his lips, allowing himself to sink and pound it further.

Make it stop, you thought.

But it your body says to continue.

Tommy's tip hit the sensitive spots all over and over again, allowing you to moan even more loudly and clenched all over his fat cock.

"I thought you don't want this anymore, huh?" he teasingly asked, listening to the pornographic moans that you're letting out.

"We shouldn't be doing this anym— aah!" you tried to speak but the pleasure won't allow you to even complete your sentence.

Tommy knew you were close with the way your pussy was clenching on his dick too much. His middle finger found its way to your clit, rubbing it aggressively as he wants you to cum.

"Tom, stop— I'm gonna—shit— cum.. oh God, oh God!"

Tommy's erratic thrusts finally made you cum. His shaft still pumping inside your walls covered with your cum, allowing himself to finish.

"No matter how—Christ—rough I go, you're still tight, woman," he groaned as continued his pace while his head was resting on your shoulder. Your nails scratched his back as you felt overstimulated, cumming again.

After a few more pound, Tommy came, pouring all of him inside you, not wasting a single cum. He pulled out slowly, your shared juices slipping out of your drenched hole. There, the guilt panged you. Your mind said stop but your body said yes.

"Give me one more night, just like you said."

——

The morning the next day hits you the hardest. The first thing you saw beside you was no one. Tommy's side of the bed was cold and empty now. He left again. 

"One more night, (y/n)," you muttered to yourself.

And now the cycle continues.

[catfortress]

Welcome to Cat Fortress Blog !

• • • Here is simply where I will post drawings and possibly animations regarding my TF2 fan AU, Cat Fortress !

• • • Main Acc: @evangelina830

Basic stuff!

• No NSFW asks pls (bloody, yes ! But no sensitive topics or lewd reqs pls.)

• Silly requests are encouraged, but please don’t go overboard ! (U know what I mean…,)

• Yes I will draw ship art ! :D dont be shy.. (I love to draw silly cats holding hands.. so yes please! As long as the ship isn’t gross…)

Also I am not super fast with asks lol I appreciate your patience!

Enjoy your visit…. =^.^=

More info under!

Tags I will use!

• #:3 - Artwork

• #:V - Doodles

• #:0 - Animation

• #:D - Answers

• #:] - (Fan?) Artwork

• #:> - Characters

• #:P - Cats info

Names!

• ⚾️Scratch - Scout

• 🪖Biscuits - Soldier

• 🔥Zoomies - Pyro

• 💣Demomew - Demoman

• 🥪Fluffy - Heavy

• 🛠️Enginya - Engineer

• 💉Meowdic - Medic

• 🎯Snipurr - Sniper

• 🚬Snap - Spy

• 📁Ms Pawling - Ms Pauling

Others so far ofc…

• 🎙️Adminhisstrator - Administrator

• 🩵Scratch’s Ma - Scout’s Ma

• 🪻Zhanclaw - Zhanna

• 🥀Beanislava - Bronislava

• 🌾Yawna - Yana

• 🫐Fluffy’s Mama - Heavy’s Mama

• 🥾Saxton Tail - Saxton Hale

• 💚Maowgaret/Maowggie - Margaret/Maggie

• 💀Whiskers - Merasmus

• 🐟Fried Fish Tramp - Fried Chicken Tramp

• 📋Furball - Bidwell

• ❤️Redmond Meoww - Redmond Mann

• 💙Blutarch Meoww - Blutarch Mann

• 🩶Gray Meoww - Gray Mann

• 🎀Olivia Meoww - Olivia Mann

• 🎈General Patton Dough - General Patton Doe

• 🧸Georgia Washington Dough - Georgia Washington Doe

• 🎤Tomcat Jones - Tom Jones

• 💜Mrs DeGrowl - Mrs Tilly DeGroot

• 🌷Mrs Mowndy - Mrs Mundy

• 🍅Mr Mowndy - Mr Mundy

• 🍷Loaf-Nah - Lar-Nah

• 🍵Furr-Bel - Bill-Bel

This blog is still quite new - stay tuned ! Mrow….

[luxurychristmaspudding]

You and I | On Call

part iv

summary: frankie has one last question.

pairing: neighbour!frankie morales x f!reader

ratings/warnings: 18+, MDNI. dual pov. idiots in love, reader is good with kids. reader and frankie are both bi and have same sex exes. fluff, drinking. praise kink. the boys (minus tom). SMUT! fingering, oral (f&m receiving), unprotected p in v. cum kink? creampie. frankie retains the title of pek 👑

reader is a teacher, has hair, and can be lifted by frankie (he's a big strong boy, don't worry about it) but she is otherwise a blank slate.

wc: 10.8k

an: well, here we are gang. thank you for joining me and for all your sweet words. i've been so awful with reblogging your kindness on this little thing because of how busy i was when i wrote most of it, but i want you to know i appreciate it so much. i've loved sharing these two with you - it's been a privilege <3

shoutout to @jolapeno for helping me with the chapter name, and for very gently reminding me that 20k chapters probably should be split 😉 love you <3

dividers from the glorious @saradika-graphics

series masterlist | main masterlist

When he wakes, it’s well past twelve. 

Nine hours which he imagines he probably needed, but really it puts him two hours behind.

He showers and dresses in a rush, running out the door to his truck, but still taking the time to register that your curtains have remained closed. It makes him smile, knowing you’re likely still tucked up in bed, your stories about the night before resting before they make their way to him.

He practically sprints around the supermarket, grabbing anything that even vaguely crosses his mind as something he might need. Meat, bread, salads of sorts, sauces, soft drinks, beers. He picks up your favourite dessert just in case, and then hauls the bags back to the truck, keeping a nervous eye on the time as his fingers tap against the steering wheel. 

Will and Benny are already there when he gets home. Grinning, leaning against Will’s car as he pulls into the driveway.

There’s a sharp pull of joy in his chest even as Will laughs out a ‘You’re late, Fish’, pounding his back as he pulls him into a hug.

‘Can’t be late to my own fuckin’ house.’ He grumbles back, pulling Benny in in the same way.

‘Can, and you are.’ The younger man laughs. 

‘Thought you might be out with your lady.’ Will teases, and Frankie flushes right to the tips of his ears. 

‘She’s still asleep.’ He says without thinking, a smile pulling at his lips. It’s comical, really, the way the two men freeze and look at each other. ‘Help me with these bags, will you?’

The brothers remain unmoving, staring at him with some degree of bewilderment.

‘Still asleep?’

Frankie sighs, a little exasperated.

‘Yeah. She was out last night.’

Will’s eyes wander to Frankie’s bedroom window just as Benny’s mouth begins to form a question. The realisation dawns quickly.

‘Not in my bed,’ he scowls, ‘Next door.’

‘Oh.’

He turns his back on them, heading to his front door, arms laden with groceries. A nervous, giddy feeling swirls in his stomach.

‘Had us going for a minute there, Fish.’ Will calls after him. Frankie bites his lip against the memories of you in your living room, the desperate kisses you’ve shared since. He feels like a teenager, on the verge of spilling secrets like he’s at a sleepover.

He hums instead, flicking a glance over his shoulder to see Benny grab more stuff from the back of the truck. He grunts and grimaces under the weight, shooting a look at Frankie.

‘What do you have in here? Are we feeding the five thousand?’

Will laughs, loading his own hands with bags, tutting at his little brother.

‘Aren’t you supposed to be the athlete here?’

Benny drops one bag just to give him the finger.

‘This is my rest day, motherfucker.’ 

He groans again as he picks the bag back up, Frankie laughing along with Will.

‘Lift with your knees, not with your back!’ He shouts.

‘Quit telling me what to do, asshole!’ Benny hollers, the older men still chuckling as he shoulders the front door open. 

Santiago arrives not too long after, setting up the last of the food - the salads out on the table, more beers in the fridge. They’ve all clocked Frankie checking his watch, checking his phone, your text that you’d be over in the next five minutes burning a fucking hole in his pocket.

He’s nervous. And they can tell.

He has the distinct impression he’s being cornered when they all turn to look at him at the same time as he fiddles with the burner on the grill. It feels ridiculous - this desire for everything to be perfect. You’ve seen him in all of his less-than-perfect moments, have never shied away. But this - today - feels different.

Pope leads the offence.

‘How’s your girl then, Fish?’

Frankie’s heart drops low in his chest before thumping hard behind his ribs, a hand coming up to try and wipe the sudden smile from his lips. He tries a gruff tone, failing miserably as soon as he speaks.

‘She’s not my girl.’

Will whistles lowly, smirking.

‘Still? We gonna have to smush you together like Barbies?’

Benny snorts, and Frankie shoots him a look which immediately makes him straighten and soften.

‘We won’t. They won’t. Scout’s honour.’

Santi takes a pull from his beer, a glint in his eye.

‘No progress at all?’ He probes.

Frankie takes a deep breath, eyes lowered to the floor before finding the deep brown of his best friend.

‘We’re… seeing each other.’ He murmurs, this time unable to hide his smile, hand scratching at the back of his head.

Silence. Quiet that puts Frankie even more on edge as he watches his friends exchange looks, as a slow smile tilts the corners of Benny’s lips.

‘Well - that’s an improvement.’ Will grins.

‘A marked improvement.’ Santi agrees.

‘So you told her how you feel?’ Benny asks, eyebrows raised.

Frankie sucks air through his teeth, clears his throat. His face grows warm, fingers twitch a little.

‘Not quite -’

Will barks a laugh. 

‘Morales, you dog.’ Followed by the deep rumbles of amusement from the other two men.

‘Oh, the tried and true manoeuvre - the Catfish Canoodle.’ Benny snickers.

‘The Morales Marathon.’ Will adds, tilting his bottle to him. Pope is next, grinning lasciviously.

‘The good old Five Finger Fish Fu-’

‘Frankie?’ You call from inside the kitchen, ‘I have beers, but there’s no room in the fridge -’

You pop your head round the backdoor, beaming immediately when you catch sight of the men in the garden.

‘Oh! Hi,’ you say brightly, emerging fully. Frankie’s heart stutters. You’re wearing that sundress he remembers - hasn’t been able to forget - from when he mowed your lawn weeks ago. Gorgeous, the way it drapes over your curves, the way it lets your skin glisten in the afternoon light. He feels his shoulders drop, his whole body relax. Feels the way he goes a little weak at the knees, knows he’ll be looking lovesick in front of the boys. And he doesn’t care.

‘Sorry I’m a little late,’ you say, hopping down the porch steps towards them, ‘I wish I had a good excuse, but I just - don’t.’ 

Benny laughs, moving with Will and Santi to greet you. Frankie just about catches the look Santiago throws him, a sweet holy shit, brother.

‘Ah, the elusive neighbour. We were starting to think he’d made you up.’ Pope says, matching your smile. You giggle, arms outstretched as he reaches you.

‘Funny,’ you smirk, ‘I was thinking of not turning up just to prove you right.’

He laughs as he releases you, Benny sweeping you into his arms and planting a kiss on your cheek.

‘Even more beautiful than he said you were,’ he says, and Frankie watches your eyebrows shoot up as you fix him with an oh, really? look. His heart drops to his stomach, neck grinding in an effort to shake his head before a shit-eating grin splits across your face. 

‘I had no idea he was so - complimentary - behind my back.’ You laugh against Will’s shoulder as he spins you around.

‘Oh, he is,’ he chuckles, placing you gently down with your back to Frankie. Frankie glowers at him half-heartedly as Will winks back, and the dark-haired man raises a finger, mouthing at him to shut - the fuck - up. ‘Feels like we’ve known you for ages.’ Will continues.

You turn, planting your hands on your hips, cocking your head at Frankie.

‘Just can’t stop talking about me, huh, Fish?’ You tease, and Frankie huffs as he pulls you in for a lingering hug, wondering if it’s too much to kiss you in front of his friends.

‘Guess not.’ He whispers into your ear.

You’re biting your lip as you pull away from him, hands lingering on his shoulders as his stall on your waist.

Will clears his throat. 

‘You gonna introduce us then, Morales?’

Frankie rolls his eyes at him as he turns you around, hands at your hips, pointing a finger at each friend.

‘William Miller,’ he says, as Will pulls a face - just Will is fine - ‘Benjamin Miller,’ - Benny, please - ‘And Santiago Garcia.’

‘I’m only Santiago when I’m in trouble,’ Which is most of the time, Benny laughs. ‘Santi is much better.’

You grin as you give them your name, and Will nudges your arm with his elbow.

‘I thought we were on Bug terms.’

You laugh, batting his arm.

‘You can call me Bug if you really want to.’

Benny shrugs, squinting his baby blues at you.

‘Maybe,’ he grins, ‘But your name suits you. It’s pretty. I like it.’

Frankie rolls his eyes again, squeezing your waist against the flicker of possessiveness that rises in his gut. It’s nothing more than teasing, kindness - something they’ve almost always extended to partners welcomed into the fold. But he’s not blind - they’re a handsome group, and he wants you to himself.

‘You gotta stop that,’ you giggle, ‘Before I wanna hang out with you guys all the time.’

Will throws a gentle arm around your shoulder, leaning back to wink at Frankie.

‘Hear that, Fish?’ He chuckles, ‘She’s in.’

He groans.

‘It’s not too late to back out,’ he murmurs lowly in your ear, ‘Though we’ve got a fuckton of food.’

His heart leaps as he feels your fingers reach for his, tangling briefly before squeezing. 

‘I’m stayin’,’ you promise, as Will moves around you to turn the grill on. ‘You guys put on a hell of a spread, anyway.’

From behind, Will claps a hand on Frankie’s shoulder, shunting the younger man forward a little.

‘That would all be Fish. Must be a special occasion.’ He smirks, and Frankie looks up to the heavens to try and stop his wish for the ground to swallow him up.

‘Sure is,’ you smile, ‘Feelin’ pretty lucky to be meeting you guys.’

‘Pleasure's all ours, kid.’ He grins.

Frankie smiles softly at you, brown eyes filled with something warm.

‘Want a drink?’ He asks.

You smack your lips, hand grabbing at your throat.

‘Please, Fish,’ you gasp, ‘I’m parched.’

The screen door has barely shut behind you before he has you backed against his kitchen counter again, stealing kisses like you’re about to get caught.

His lips are slow, sweet, hands so lazy, so indulgent in the way they hold you you’re not sure it’s really happening, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. He crowds you a little closer, licking into your mouth as he fists the skirt of your dress, palming at your ass. You barely manage to catch your breath before he’s mouthing at your neck, nipping at the skin there as you huff against him. 

‘Good time last night?’ he breathes against your shoulder. You nod, eyes shut tight.

‘Yes,’ you gasp, ‘Really good time.’

‘Good,’ he murmurs, ‘I’m glad.’

You moan softly as he grips your hips, pulling you up against his thigh. There’s a thrill to it, knowing the boys are just outside. It makes your blood run hotter. Dangerously hot - no-turning-back hot.

‘Should get back outside. Before they wonder where we’ve gone.’

‘Don’t care,’ Frankie rasps, tugging at your dress again, ‘This fucking dress drives me insane.’

You nip at his bottom lip as his mouth meets yours again.

‘You’re driving me fucking insane,’ you gasp, lips tipping upwards, ‘In your kitchen, humping your leg like a dog in heat -’

He groans against you, forehead knocking against yours as he breathes heavily.

His eyes are almost black, palms warm and rough as they cradle your cheeks.

‘Once they leave,’ he whispers, ‘We’re spending a week in my bedroom. Or yours. I don’t care which.’

A whimper slips up your throat, mouth pressed hotly against his again as you start to count how many hours until it might be acceptable to drag him away. One hand slips from your cheek to your waist, inching up until he can squeeze at your breast, running a thumb over your nipple. You shudder, whole body ignited. 

‘Fuck.’ He breathes.

‘Frankie -’

‘Hey! Lover boy,’ Pope whistles from behind the screen door. You leap apart at the sound of his footsteps on the porch. ‘Hope you’re decent in there, I’m coming in -’

Santi appears, grinning widely as he pushes his way into the kitchen. He shields the side of his face facing you with a hand. ‘I’m not looking,’ he says, ‘But we’re gonna get grilling.’

‘We’re not naked, Pope.’ Frankie says, bemused. You giggle as Santi drops his hand.

‘Thank God,’ he sighs, before fixing you with a look, ‘I’ve seen enough of this man’s ass to last me a lifetime.’

He’d hoped it would be easy, knew that they’d love you. But he’s never seen these three men take to someone the way they have you.

He smiles as you stand with Will at the grill, watches the brotherly affection develop in real time. The soft smack of your palm against the older man’s shoulder, snorts of laughter, whispered jokes and more serious stories swapped. Frankie relaxes into it more and more, gazing at you over Benny’s shoulder. 

When he brings more food over to cook, Will stays stood by his side as you take his place with Benny and Santiago. The three of you huddled around the crackling firepit, hooting with laughter. He catches his own name a few times, turns to find you watching him with shining eyes as Pope and the younger Miller brother no doubt regale you with embarrassing stories from his youth. Things he hasn’t thought to tell you, things he may well have forgotten. And you fill a chair so easily, so effortlessly, it’s like you’ve always been there.

Clinks of cheersing bottles, conspiratorial shoulder bumps, lowered heads and loud exclamations and giggles. He feels like he’s in a fucking coming of age movie.

‘She’s a keeper, brother,’ Will murmurs to him over the lip of his beer bottle. He turns to him, a little surprised, but Will looks so at ease, so content with his little smile, that he knows there’s no bullshit there. ‘Fuckin’ funny. And smart as hell.’

Frankie hums, busying himself with flipping a burger. His hands are a little shaky - even after everything that’s happened over the last week, there’s still something that’s keeping him unsteady. The rock of a world turned on its axis, the deep want of willing this to work - because he loves you. So fucking much.

‘Don’t go all shy on me now, Fish.’ Will says, turning with him so his back is to you.

‘’M not.’ Frankie says, softly. Will sucks a breath through his teeth, squinting up at the sun just over the roofline of your house.

‘Do you remember what I was like when I first met Charlotte?’

Frankie looks at him - the beard, the hair pulled back, the clear blue of his eyes. He nods.

‘And the way you wound me up? How I was always looking for her, always checking for her? And at the end of the night, you asked when I was buying the ring?’

Frankie chuckles at the memory, the comment made stood at the bar with his best friend, manifesting the future he’d have. The ring that now sits on Charlotte’s finger, the wedding planned for the end of the year.

‘I do.’

Will looks back at him, teeth exposed with his smile. Teasing, full of humour, but it’s genuine, not goading.

‘When are you buying the ring, Frankie?’

Blood rushes to his head so fast he feels dizzy, so fast he has to put the tongs down. He scoffs, the way it sounds out loud so outlandish, but something pierces deep through his chest at how clearly Will sees through him.

Because he’s thought about it.

He shakes his head, swallowing roughly. There’s nothing he can say. Anything like not even my girlfriend yet would sound like a denial. But admitting it, that secret thought, even to Will, feels insane.

He’s still grinning at him.

‘I know it when I see it, Fish,’ Will continues, ‘And I know what you’re thinking.’ He pauses, shrugs. ‘Bring her to the wedding. She might catch the bouquet.’ 

He can’t move. Can’t turn to look at you, he’s sure his cheeks are burning so brightly. Can’t even twist his head when Benny calls,

‘Are you done grilling over there? We’re starving.’

He can’t stop thinking about it. Can't stop his whirring brain as the five of you eat, passing sauces and salads. Can’t stop thinking about a future, a life with you as you sit across the table from him, meeting his eye, chatting, laughing. Can’t stop the thoughts from ploughing through him as your foot catches his under the table, can hardly swallow his burger against the words lumping in his throat. Can’t stop the pounding of his heart when he catches you gazing at him halfway through a story, chin cupped in your hand, looking at him like he hung the moon and stars - can’t stop wondering whether you’ve ever pictured the same. 

He’s barely snapped out of it when the plates are stacked and carried through to the kitchen, bits of salad and smudges of sauce halfway cleared up before you pile outside again, Will and Santi jostling over the chair free from the smoke of the firepit. You walk with him and Benny, the younger man listening to you talk with such interest, such fondness already, that Frankie wonders whether he’s too young to have a heart attack. 

He’s only pulled from the conversation by the crack of broken furniture, the three of you stopping short and quiet as Will wheezes, sprawled on the ground atop the remnants of the coveted chair. He holds a hand up in the air, craning his neck at Frankie.

‘His fault,’ he croaks, pointing at Santi, who holds his palms up in surrender. 

‘Not my fault that he’s so heavy.’

You trap a giggle between your teeth and bottom lip as Frankie and Benny start to laugh, Will scrambling to his feet with the help of Frankie’s outstretched hand. 

‘Santiago.’ Benny snickers, and your bright eyes find Frankie’s.

‘Well. Now you are in trouble.’

Frankie grins, fixing Santi with a faux stern look.

‘In so much trouble you’re gonna have to sit on the floor.’ He chuckles, and Pope pouts.

‘My knees will never recover, Fish, and you know that.’

He shrugs, settling into a chair at the same time as Benny and Will. You stay standing, warring silently with yourself before you gesture to the empty seat for Santi to take. 

‘It’s yours,’ you smile, nervous as you turn to Frankie. ‘Is this seat taken?’ You ask, looking pointedly at his lap.

His eyes blow wide for a second, breath caught in his chest. Unsure, for a moment, of your meaning, ready to give the chair up for you. You raise an eyebrow, palm lowering gently onto his shoulder.

‘No.’ He rasps, blissfully unaware of Will’s smirk.

‘Good.’ You say, lowering yourself onto his thighs, an arm around his shoulders, his around your back, hand at your hip. He swings your legs over his without thinking, and you settle, limbs tense at first, before shuffling a little to get comfortable.

To their credit, the boys don’t make it a thing. They continue the conversation as normal as the two of you join in, wrapped up together, crowing with laughter as your bodies vibrate against each other. 

You hold each other closer as the evening wears on. Head resting against his chest, nuzzled against the fabric of his t-shirt. Laundry detergent, light scent of cologne, the warmth of his skin. His hands are broad and calloused where they cradle you, so easily - never a limb falling slack, never goosebumps that go unsoothed. He rubs his thumb against your thigh in soft semi-circles, leans his cheek against the top of your head, breathing in your shampoo. 

Lets himself be warmed by the pressure of your body against his, willfully ignores his cock when it twitches hopefully as you shift. Which is hard, as you begin to shift more and more the later it gets, the hotter you burn above him. And as hard as you try, you just can’t keep still. Can’t stop trying to find relief for the ache in your core, the wetness pooling in your underwear. 

He finally grips your hips against a particularly wicked wriggle, head dipping to growl in your ear.

‘Stop, baby. Please.’ And it works for a moment - only a moment - as you’re frozen by the flashbacks of him unravelling beneath you eight days ago. Eight days too long.

As though he’s read the shift in atmosphere, Will stands and stretches.

‘I’m heading in,’ he says, rolling his head on his shoulders. ‘The spare room calls.’

You stand, reluctantly, and Frankie is quick to readjust himself as inconspicuously as possible. Will gives you a sweeping hug, kissing just before your ear as you say a muffled see you tomorrow into his shoulder. Frankie takes his outstretched hand, pulling him into a back-clapping embrace of sorts, and when he pulls away he’s surprised to see Benny and Pope also bidding you goodnight. He checks his watch. 

It’s not even eleven.

His eyes twitch from you to the boys as he works out whether you’re heading back to yours, too.

Santi catches the look, slapping a hand onto his shoulder as he whispers a do not come back into this house, pendejo. He looks over your shoulder at Benny as Will makes you giggle again, and is met with the firm waggle of a finger.

Stay, he mouths.

Fuck you, Frankie mouths back, watching their backs retreat into his house. 

The backyard falls quiet, only the snap of logs in the fire, the buzzing of insects, and the rush of blood in his ears to be heard.

You turn, facing him in the dark, half your face lit by the dying embers of the fire pit. 

‘Are you - are you tired?’ He asks softly, afraid of disturbing the hushed moment.

‘No,’ you whisper, ‘Are you?’

He shakes his head, swallowing thickly.

‘No.’

You nod, gentle smile pulling at your lips.

‘Good.’

You step towards him, slowly, like something out of a dream. Glowing in the low light, sparkling with something divine.

You cup his cheeks with both hands, press your body in a firm line against his, hoping to convey exactly what you mean through the touch. Affection, of course, love, adoration - everything you’ve been planning on giving him over the last week, but now, more pressingly - want. Pure, unadulterated want. 

You tip your head to slant your mouth against his, hot, heavy, teeth clashing at the initial meeting, breath mingling, tongues licking into each others’ mouths. You tug at the back of his neck, hand buried in the soft curls there, yanking his head back a little to open his mouth up to you. You let go. Lips suckling at his tongue, teeth nibbling at the pillow of his lower lip. Further. Pecking at the scruff of his jaw, pressing open-mouthed kisses to his neck. Nipping, raising red on his skin, before soothing it with a tortuously slow lick of your tongue.

Your breathing is so heavy, hands so feverish, you lose the sense of where you end and he begins. Feel fingers scrabbling for purchase, bruising grips, on you and him. One scorching palm runs the length of your dress down to the top of your thigh, grabbing at the flesh there. You shift your stance, moaning into his mouth, finding that hand with your own, moving it closer to that burning place between your legs. Frankie follows your lead.

You press his hand up, and his knuckles graze along the sodden fabric of your panties, lips falling away from his as you whine and he groans. You’re soaked, wetter still as he runs the length of his fingers up and down the material clinging to your pussy, feeling the bite of your teeth as you try to muffle yourself against his collarbone. 

He shushes you, coos at you, pressing a particularly firm stroke against your cunt that makes your legs shake as he asks you -

‘You gonna let me feel it, baby?’

You gasp against his mouth, nodding feverishly. He chuckles, slowing the pace of his kiss so he can really focus on how soft, how warm and wet you are as he pulls your panties to the side with deft fingers, slicking them up before swirling them around your clit. A stuttered breath escapes you, cutting off into a loud, unabashed moan as he slowly, slowly fucks his fingers into you. He sinks right down to the bottom knuckle, kisses forgotten as he breathes raggedly against your cheek, feeling you clench and whimper around him. He curls them slightly, and your knees practically buckle, stomach contracting, hands grasping at his shirt.

‘Frankie,’ you plead, almost losing your train of thought as he plants a kiss just behind your ear. ‘Take me to bed.’

He pumps his fingers, once, runs his thumb softly over your clit before withdrawing them altogether, mouth slanted firmly against yours, stifling your whine. You stumble a little, pulling at the collar of his shirt for him to move with you before pausing briefly, watching as he brings his fingers to his lips. He slips them deep inside, groaning around them, eyelids fluttering as he takes in the taste of you. Your breathing is heavy as he slips them from his mouth, offering them to you. You take them willingly, bobbing your head to feel how thick and heavy his fingers are on your tongue, the taste of your slick diluted with his spit making your mouth water. He stares as you flick the muscle between and around his digits, brow furrowed, eyes dark, before he retracts them. You frown at him, and he licks into your mouth with such ferocity you’re quick to forget your disappointment. 

‘Yours. Now.’ He murmurs, and then you’re grinning, running. Sprinting over his lawn, hopping the fence on unsteady legs, striding towards your porch. You slam up the steps, glancing behind you only once to watch him follow you. Giddy with want, warm all over, soaking wet, you can't help but look for him.

For the first time since you moved next door, Frankie willingly hops the fence. 

He catches up to you before you can get the front door open, clutching your hip, turning the handle with the other. He backs you into the hallway, kicking the door shut behind him, shoes toed off blindly. There’s no reprieve from his lips, no other thought than his hands on your body, guiding you into your living room, hips bumping into furniture, deaf to the clatter of objects falling - not a single fuck given over what - one hand - whose, you���re not sure - flying out to flick a lamp on before he’s crushing you against the sofa. 

Calves to the furniture, you fall, and he follows you - two hands braced either side of your head before returning to their homes on your cheek, your waist, your breasts. Palming at the flesh there, kneading, thumbing over your nipples. You’re gasping, rolling your hips in hopes you’ll catch against something, because he’s everywhere, only to come up empty every time. He lowers both hands, tongue running strongly against yours. One shifts your hips, the other pressing against your panties again.

‘Let me taste you,’ he groans, voice hoarse, ‘Please, baby. I have to - let me taste you.’

You nod fiercely, tugging on his curls again, mumbling a fuck, Frankie, yes, before he pulls away. His lips are spit-slick, swollen, cheeks flushed. Breathing haggard, eyes blown, curls frayed. He looks almost how he did a week ago. 

He holds your gaze for a moment, searching again, letting the question float through the air. You nod, softly, and he begins his descent. 

His lips are wet against your skin, leaving shining marks as he presses them to your clavicles, your breastbone, closing them around your covered nipples. He mouths at them, tongue dampening the fabric of your dress, warming, cooling, the fabric sticking to you in a way that makes your back arch. He works one with his fingers while his mouth is occupied, teasing them into peaks as you whimper and buck your hips beneath him. He watches you darkly, eyes heavy lidded, eyelashes almost fanned against his cheeks. And you ache. Ache so badly, so unforgivably. You can feel how wet you are - panties soaked, dampness all the way down into the cleft of your ass, smudging along the tops of your thighs. He waits until you whine again, louder, higher pitched, nails scraping in his curls, against his scalp - please Frankie, please - before he moves lower. More kisses pressed to your covered stomach, lower, lower, large hands pushing up the hem of your skirt, tracing every bit of skin they can find. He shifts on his knees to get closer as you lift your hips so he can shove your skirt all the way up, lips parting, eyebrows furrowing in a desperate look of need as he fixes his eyes to your clothed core, as you buck again at the look in his eyes, breathing heavily. His palms come together at the very tops of your thighs, thumbs brushing along the hem of your panties either side of your pussy. You huff again, hands leaving their clutch of the sofa to bury back into his curls, tugging him forwards. 

He groans, deep in his throat, easily led. Presses his nose to your clothed cunt, inhales deeply, grinds the tip just against your throbbing clit. You whimper, tugging once more, and he nuzzles your bud again, mumbling something into your heat.

‘Frankie -’ you gasp, ‘Frankie - if you don’t fuckin’ - touch me in the next thirty seconds, I’m gonna cry.’

‘I am touchin’ you,’ he growls against your hip, head tilted to look up at you. His hot breath on your skin has your flesh breaking out in goosebumps. You shake your head, frustration burning behind your eyes.

‘I want - your tongue -’ you pant, ‘Want to feel your mouth, Frankie.’

He groans, thumbs digging under the waistband of your panties to rip them down your legs, eyes never leaving your core as he reveals you - glistening, messy, wet, drooling for him. He splits his fingers into a V, spreading your lips as you keen and mewl above him.

‘You want me here?’ He rasps.

‘Yes,’ you breathe, ‘I fucking do.’

He finds it in himself to show you mercy.

The first stroke of his tongue is strong, wide. As though he’s trying to take as much of you in as possible in the first go - licking deep and long to taste your slick, tracing the dip of your hole, ending with a final swirl around your clit. Your chest shudders, eyes squeeze shut, hands tense in his hair.

‘Okay, baby?’ He asks, so soft.

You lick your lips.

‘Yeah.’

He pushes your at knees to spread your thighs wider apart.

‘Look at me.’ He says, and you crack your eyes open to watch as he manhandles your legs onto his shoulders, tilting his head as he considers, pushing them back towards your chest in order to find the best angle to eat you from. Fuck.

He’s not gentle, and he isn’t taking his time. 

The week you’ve waited, the months building up to this, do not mean you have the patience to make this last any longer than he’s already teased you for. He eats you like he’s starved, like he’s never tasted anything like the heaven between your legs. Long, firm strokes of his tongue, flicking at your swollen clit, watching as your head tilts forward, heavy, unable to tear your eyes from him. Chest heaving, something about the way you’re still wrapped in that fucking dress making him leak steadily in his jeans, cock straining against the zipper. He’s barely spared a thought for it so far, caught up in the way you look, the way you feel, smell, taste. He moves his grip from one of your knees to palm himself roughly, and you moan, watching him. 

Your lips part, and he knows, knows that you’re going to beg him to fuck you before the words even leave your mouth. And he will.

He just needs this first.

‘You’re gonna come in my mouth,’ he rumbles, stroking your clit with his thumb, levelling you with a dark, stern stare, ‘And then we can do anything you want. Just need to taste you like this first.’

He watches the pulse of your cunt, the gush of slick that escapes you at his words. Coos at you, so pretty, baby, before leaning back in.

Closing his lips around your pearl, sucking, flicking, tracing shapes - tracing the letters of his name against you - watching as you buck and cry and moan. You’re so fucking beautiful, leaking around him, wetting his chin, his lips, his cheeks. He can only taste you, only smell you. And it’s fucking divine.

Diving in as you bury your hands in his hair again, pulling his mouth closer, reeling in the soft plush of his lips, warm wet of his tongue, the sharp nip of his teeth against your skin. He lets you use him, lets you grind against his face, winding your hips against him. He holds his mouth open, tongue lapping where he can, mumbling against your skin. Blissed out, pussy drunk.

Yes, yes, fuck. Fuck, baby - use me. Use me, just like that. Take what you need, Bug. Taste so good, feel so fucking good.

His eyes dart from your cunt to your face - this beautiful mess you’re making, the fucked out, glassy look you watch him with. Mouth dropped open, brow scrunched in ecstasy, broken little pants and moans, cries of his name. He stretches an arm, a hand above his head, kneading at your breast, pinching your nipple, the other settling above your mound, thumb pulling back the hood of your clit. You shut your eyes quickly, your shout of fuck coming loud, a yelp.

He can taste how close you are, willing you to come with his eyes when you meet his gaze. His come, baby, is muffled, but it’s all you need. 

You break, back arching, breasts heaving, pussy fluttering and clamping around his tongue, heat blasting through your belly, a rush of bright white feeling pouring from you. Your hips freeze, jerk, twitch against him, and he closes his eyes briefly, worried that if he watches you ride the high the whole way through he’ll come in his fucking pants again. 

Your hands loosen in his hair, letting him lick and suck dazedly until he’s content. Nose pressed against you, inhaling, tasting as you whimper, thighs tightening a little around his head at the oversensitivity, and he backs away, pressing kisses to your thighs as your ragged breathing begins to ease into a more even rhythm.

He nips at your skin as you stare at him, something flooding your chest. You feel like you’re still riding that wave, feel like no one’s ever really eaten you like that, nobody’s ever really let you use them like that.

You bring a hand to his cheek, thumb tracing the glisten of you on his lips. He tilts his head into your palm, and you smile, mouth dry.

‘Where’d you learn to do that?’ You ask. It’s a dumb fucking thing to say, but you can think of nothing else that could quite explain the light-headed awe you’re feeling. He laughs, a deep rumble, real, into your thigh.

‘It’s a gift.’ He chuckles, pressing a kiss to your belly, shifting on his knees, adjusting himself. Your eyes soften, dropping to his hand.

He sees the question in your eyes again.

He leans forward, squatting, hands moving to the crease between your thighs and ass, before he stands, bringing you with him. You mouth at his neck as he stumbles to your stairs, taking them steadily, shouldering open your bedroom door through the darkness. 

He drops you where he knows the mattress, your bed will be, separating himself from you only briefly. He yanks the curtains shut as your fingers flick on a dim light - you’ll be damned if you're not watching this. 

He stops before you at the edge of the bed, between your legs. You reach out, looking up at him - sharp curve of his nose, chocolate of his curls illuminated by the light, the heat of his eyes, soft clench of his jaw, rough swallow of his throat. He reaches to stroke your hair, cupping the back of your head. You tug at the hem of his t-shirt, and he holds your hands, loosening them so he can pull it up over his head. And then he’s all golden tan, freckles. Stupidly broad shoulders, strong arms, muscle moving beneath the skin as he discards the garment on the floor. Curls of hair over his chest, down his softening stomach, down below the waistband of his jeans. The bulge straining against the denim there. You draw your hands down the lines of him, pausing only to trace the silvery mark of the scar on his abdomen. He sucks a sharp breath in at the tenderness, the intimacy, takes your fingers in his. Watches as you blink up at him, as you move to press your cheek against the heft of his cock, a kiss against his zipper. Hands making quick work of freeing him, tugging down the denim and his boxers. He steps out of them, bending only to pull his socks off, before he stills in front of you. His hard cock bobs against his stomach - you’re briefly distracted by his thighs, the delicious, smooth patches of skin where his hips meet his torso - but he is impossible to ignore. Thick, throbbing. Precum beading down the shaft, head flushed a heady, deep red, veins pulsing beneath the skin. Curved upwards, twitching beneath your gaze. You swallow thickly.

‘Holy shit.’

You don’t even realise you’d said it out loud until he laughs, a little bashful, a little proud. You look back up to him as you reach out, fingers wrapping around his base. Skin like silk, like gossamer, hot and strong. He hisses through his teeth, knees weak and hips bucking all at once. You pump once, twice, letting your breath fan over him.

‘So pretty,’ you murmur, ‘Prettiest cock I’ve ever seen.’

He flushes at your words, his retort dying in his throat when you wrap your lips around him, gently taking his head in your mouth, swirling your tongue in circles, dipping into his slit, teasing the skin on the underside. He watches, breath caught in his throat, head pounding as you dip forward, hands flat against his thighs, eyes fluttering blissfully as you take him deeper. Watches as he disappears inside your mouth, as he feels nothing but warm and wet, nothing but your tight swallow, your fluid grip at his base, the vibration of your hum, the glint in your eyes as you look up -

He retracts his hips reluctantly, sliding his cock from your throat. You try to follow, whining as you shift forward, still connected through a delicate line of spit and precum, stretching thin as he pulls you back with a firm hand in your hair. He breaks it with his fingers, letting his thumb catch the dribble of it against your chin. He offers the digit, and you obediently take it in your mouth to suck the mixture off. Your eyes are still wide, pleading. He smiles softly.

‘Not gonna last like that, baby,’ he mutters. ‘Wanna feel you this time.’

You pout, words slurred in your pleasure filled haze, eyes heavy lidded as you hold his gaze.

‘Wanna watch you come every way. Wanna make you come every way. Wanna - wanna taste it, wanna feel it, want you to cover me -’

‘Jesus fucking Christ,’ he grits, cock throbbing painfully at your words, head spinning. He never thought he’d hear you talk like that, cock drunk on the edge of your bed, mouth all sad without his dick in it. ‘Get this off.’ he hisses, tugging again at the hem of your dress, pulling it up as you hold up your arms. It comes easy, exposing your bare pussy, soft skin of your stomach, plush flesh of your breasts. 

There's so much blood south of his brain Frankie thinks he might pass out.

He bends to kiss you, groping at your tits again, fingers swiping fleetingly between your legs to find you still soaked.

‘Perfect,’ he growls, ‘So fucking perfect.’

You whimper, backing up across your sheets. He follows, both knees dipping onto the mattress, tongue searching for yours, pecks and nips pressed to your forehead, cheeks, lips.

Your hands find purchase wherever they can, squeezing the tops of his arms, nails grazing the skin, grasping the meat of his hips, tracing the contours of his belly, squeezing and stroking his cock. A deep groan rumbles in his chest again, and he's breaking the kisses to divert and scoot back against your pillows. You crawl to him, eye contact only broken as his eyes flick over your shoulder, and he freezes, shivers. You smile wickedly, guessing at what he can see. You pause between his legs again, lowering your head to kiss at his base, cup his balls, arching your back a little more so he can really see the angle you’re exposed at in the mirror behind you.

He doesn’t know where to look. Where your mouth and hands are, teasing at his cock again, or where he can see your glistening pussy, tilted up, shining, ready. 

He’s losing his fucking mind.

He reaches over, curling his body around yours to land a firm smack against your ass. You whimper at the contact, hot pant of air against his skin, eyes glassy again as he groans, watching the flesh ripple, watching the claim he has staked begin to form. 

You move to kneel, coming face to face, your eyes wide, wanton, desperate.

‘Fuck me, Frankie,’ you whisper, pleading. ‘Please, fuck me -’

He shakes his head, kissing your temple.

‘Gotta get you ready first, bebita,’ he breathes, pulling you closer, moving your legs. ‘Come here for me, turn around. Come closer. Like this.’ He arranges you so you’re sat, cradled between his legs, your back to his front. He spreads your legs wide, hooks them with his ankles so you can’t close them. Runs his hands down your body, your eyes tracing his movements - every squeeze, every pinch, every circle he draws. 

Your breath hitches as his hands travel lower, parting your folds again, feathering over your clit. You turn your head to speak directly into his ear.

‘Don’t tease, Morales.’ You purr. He chuckles, turning to peck at your lips.

‘I won’t, princesa.’

You cry out as he sinks two fingers inside your heat, making good on his promise. Your chin dips, but his spare hand comes up to cradle it gently, angling your head so you can watch him work you in the mirror. The two of you rendered speechless for a moment - just gasps, moans, the slick sounds of your cunt in the room. His dark eyes on yours over your shoulder, in the glass. The firm press, scissor, pulse, of his fingers inside you.

The silence is only broken by a ragged moan from you as he presses against that delicious, spongy spot tucked away inside you, and he chuckles in response.

‘Look at you, baby,’ he breathes in your ear, ‘So pretty. Been thinking about you like this all week.’

You moan as he curls his fingers at a particularly delicious angle, pressing the meat of his palm against your clit. Your hand closes around his wrist, keeping him there, pulling him away - a mix of both. The feel of him is too wonderful to be rid of, too much to take.

‘Longest fuckin’ week of my life.’ He growls, biting at your earlobe, flicking his wrist faster again, drawing a desperate cry from your lips. A pressure building, your pussy obscene in the quiet, so fucking wet, and you can hear Frankie thinking it, marvelling at how your body responds, how you leak and clench and writhe in his grip. 

There’s that pressure building again, your breath heaving in your lungs, cunt getting slicker, tighter. Frankie coos in your ear, his other arm still banded around your middle. You hiccup, moan, arch your back against him. 

‘Fuck,’ you murmur, ‘Fuck, close.’

He hums, tracing his nose along the fine skin of your neck.

‘Yeah?’ He says, voice cracking a little. ‘S’that good? Tell me. Tell me it’s good, baby.’

You whine again, thrashing your head against his shoulder, driving your hips down onto his fingers, pleading for more.

‘So good,’ you moan, ‘So fucking good, Frankie. You have no idea.’

You can feel him rutting against you - slowly - all velvet skin, wiry hair, sticky wetness. His mouth pressed to your shoulder, licking, nipping, kissing alternately, his fingers pressed deep inside you, other arm loosening around your middle, hand playing messily with your clit. His eyes in the mirror, trapping you there with him. Unashamed in their exploration of your body, greedy, watching your soaked cunt pull him in, the sopping sounds she makes as she tries to hold him there. You’re surprised at how hot it makes you feel, how wanted, how turned on. The streak of slick and sweat against your skin, Frankie's wet fingers that spread it there.

You whine again, skin burning, glistening with sweat. Tip your head back, onto his shoulder, to nip his skin impatiently between your teeth. 

‘Frankie,’ you murmur, breath sweet against his ear, ‘Wanna come on your cock.’

‘Fuck,’ he rasps, ‘Is that what you want? You want my cock?’

You moan again, louder, drunk on the feeling between your legs, his continued movement. 

‘Yes.’ You hiss, as he sucks a mark onto your neck.

‘Say it. Need to hear you say it.’

‘Want your cock. Need your cock, Francisco.’

You swear you see his eyes roll into the back of his head in the glass of the mirror, and then he’s moving fast, with precision.

He eases his fingers from your pussy, gentle, not a drop of hesitation. He pushes your hips until they rise, tilting your whole body forwards until you’re on your knees, hands pressed into the mattress. You feel like jelly, so loose and warm-limbed you’re sure you could be moulded into any shape he wished.

‘Good girl,’ he mumbles, pressing hot kisses against your shoulders, down your spine. ‘Good fucking girl.’ 

His hands are on your hips, ready to move you, but in a second, you’re turning to face him. He’s watching you, reverent, like he can’t believe you’re here, that he’s here. You place a knee on either side of his, one hand pulling at the curls at the nape of his neck, titling his head back so you can slant your mouth against his, licking between his lips as you lower yourself gently, rocking your soaked folds over his sensitive cock. 

The movement knocks the air from his lungs, mouth stuttering against yours, unable to kiss you back. Feeling you on his fingers was one thing, but having you sliding against him like this is a whole nother. You giggle at him, and a whimper clears the back of his throat.

‘You okay, baby?’ You smirk, voice hoarse. He supposes it’s only fair, now you’ve got the upper hand. He lets you keep it, hands roving desperately, kneading and pulling at the flesh of your ass, mouth dipping to your nipple, letting you glide over him. Now processing how hard he is, how painfully his cock throbs. 

He’s ready to be greedy, ready to find out how he fits inside you. 

He pulls you up, closer, by the hips. Grips his cock firmly between your legs, swipes it between your folds, making sure to bump against your clit just to hear you whimper.

You brace your hands against his chest as you rest your leaking hole against him, the tip just breaching the tight ring of muscle. You whine, scratching fine lines into his skin.

He swallows - so handsome. Dark curls, dark eyes. Strong body, a body that feels like home, like someone who has always kept you safe, has always made you feel seen.

‘Look at me,’ he says, for the second time. You drag your eyes to him, stalling your movements. He waits until he knows your brain has caught up with your body. ‘Slowly.’ 

You nod, lowering yourself against the blunt head of his cock, clenching your teeth at the sweet stretch. He anchors you with one hand cupped to your cheek, the other firm at your ass, listening to your hiccuped moans, your shuddering breaths, releasing his through his teeth. You’re so warm, so wet, so tight.

And he fills you to the brim. Every inch you take a marvel, pressing against every nerve ending, every tender spot, like he was made for you. You settle when you reach his base, clit catching on the wiry hairs there, rocking slightly to feel him even better, letting your slick soak him, feeling yourself pull tight, loosen, ebb, flow.

You knock your forehead with his, finding his eyes. Bright, fiery, needy. You close the space between you, kissing him as you pant together. Feeling so full, so open, forgetting every worry, every niggling doubt. You rest your head in the crook between his neck and shoulder, shaking as you lift your hips, feeling the thick glide of him, clenching, releasing, dropping back down slowly, again, listening to the squelch of him moving inside you, desperate, needy little noises leaving your mouth. It’s intoxicating - the more you move, the louder you get, the louder he gets. Deep rumbles of praise, heavy grunts, hands soothing, pinching every inch of skin they can find. You grind a little more on the downwards movement this time, keening at the scrape against that bundle of nerves again, choking on your words.

‘God.’

‘That’s it, Bu- baby.’ He groans, and a huff of amusement leaves you at the slip.

‘What, am I not Bug anymore?’

It’s breathless, your tease, not your usual gnashing comeback. He groans, teeth grazing the bud of your nipple.

‘I am not using the nickname my daughter gave you when I’m inside you.’

You giggle at the thought, body clenching a little. Frankie moans, open mouthed, eyes squeezing shut, hands grasping at you.

‘Don’t laugh,’ he gasps, ‘Holy fuck, please don’t laugh. I’ll come.’

You hum, giving in, dragging your body up and down again, smooth, slow, letting the feeling, the warmth, the pressure, the ache begin to build again. You lean back a little, one hand on his thigh, one loose on his shoulder, and the change in angle has you crying out, cursing, Frankie watching your face before his eyes fall down your body - beautiful, glistening in the orange light. The curve of your waist, the quickening bounce of your tits, and then your cunt. Watches as he disappears inside you, watches as you stretch around him, watches the glisten of your wetness down his length, where it’s tacky at the bottom, staining the two of you where you’re connected. You reach back with your other hand, moving faster, leaning back further so he can really watch you fuck yourself onto him.

Your movements grow hungrier, a little more uncoordinated; stomach tensing, mouth hanging open, cut off, broken cries of his name, feeling yourself wind tighter, spill more onto his lap. He runs a large palm down your body, thumb finding your clit, catching it, rubbing firm circles. He feels you clench for real this time, whole body shuttering at the feeling, your hand clutching his.

‘Fuck, Frankie -’ you gasp, ‘Please, I’ll -’

You’re cut off as he changes his rhythm, his pressure, finding the pace that makes you moan with every breath, mouth stretching in a smile.

‘You’ll what, princesa?’

You whine, huffing, thighs burning, release so close you can almost taste it.

‘Motherfucker -’ you bite, no real venom.

‘Words, baby.’ He coos.

‘I’ll come,’ you pant, ‘Frankie - I - I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come, please, gonna come, Frankie, Frankie, Frankie -’

You sob, loudly, euphoric as your orgasm shatters through you, body cramping, juddering. A gush of liquid between you, your pussy squeezing him tight, so tight -

‘Good girl, bebita, such a good fucking girl -’

And he’s flipping you, deftly, a hand protecting your skull, so you’re on your back, mind and body reeling as you continue to shudder, still calling out for him, nails carving pink half moons in his shoulders as you wrap your legs around his waist on instinct, the angle deepening, his body pressed flush to yours.

‘Fuck,’ he snarls, ‘Feel like heaven, baby, wanna watch you come every day, every hour, all the time -’ he’s babbling, he knows he is. But he’s caught up, entranced by how you look beneath him, his thrusts sloppy already, watching your eyes roll back, your chest heave, tits bounce. Lower again, where he’s fucking into you, soaked with your release. He winds a hand around the back of your neck, gently tilting your head to make you see what he’s seeing, to watch him fuck you.

You clench painfully around him, gasping - shit, Frankie, oh my God, so good, so good - your body rallying for another, senses overwhelmed, aflame with pleasure. He clutches your thigh, hitches your legs higher up his waist. Licks at your pulse point, sucks different mark there, leaning back to take you in again.

‘Look so pretty, bebita,’ he moans, ‘All fucked out on my cock like this.’

And it’s like a switch is flicked. Frankie sees it pass through your eyes, a wicked glimmer. The way the corners of your lips twitch, even as your eyelashes flutter at the sensation of him drawing his thick cock back out of you, even as your body whirs with a second orgasm.

‘Yeah, baby?’ you coo, ‘You like how I look taking your cock?’

He can’t say anything in reply, mouth only hanging open as you start to talk again.

‘Like how I look when I’m full of you? Wanna be full of you all the time, Frankie. Wanna feel you even when you’re not inside me like this. Wanna - fuck - wanna feel you dripping out of me -’

He groans roughly, almost animalistic.

‘Don’t say that.’ He grits.

You moan at his tone, fingers twisting through his hair, mind getting hazy as you flutter around him.

‘But I want it, Francisco,’ you rasp, ‘Want you to come inside me, want you to fuck me full of you -’

He bares his teeth a little, nipping at your bottom lip. Balls drawing up, heat at the base of his spine, faster, harder -

‘You want that?’

‘Please, Frankie.’

He moans again, sees stars when he closes his eyes, as your whimpers pitch higher.

‘Gonna come,’ you whisper, ‘Come, Frankie, please, come inside me -’

You’re not sure who’s first, you’re not sure who’s louder. A shout of your name, his name, ripping through the air, you clamping down around him, the jerk of him inside you as he paints your walls with his cum, fucking it into you as long as he can, the squelch, the sensitivity drawing out your highs.

He eases when it gets too much, rolling you onto your side, keeping you full until he softens enough to slip out, kissing all over your face. You share breath, teeth knocking against each other, tongues gliding along lips, whining as you feel him begin to drip out of you.

Fingers slipping against his damp skin, pulling him close, sharing whispered secrets, tugging him closer still when he starts to harden again against your thigh.

Hours slip by, the darkness behind the curtains blooming into something like daybreak. He tastes you again, fills you again, you make sure to take him in your mouth.

And when the first birds begin to sing, you are fast asleep in each others’ arms.

His fingers are tracing your shoulder, your face pressed to his chest, murmuring conversation in the light of the morning. Sun stretching through your clumsily closed curtains, rustle of the trees outside the window, cracked open for fresh air when the scent of sex was laying heavy in the room. Legs tangled together, further entwined in your sheets. 

In a moment of quiet, Frankie speaks.

‘Your picture’s fallen over.’

Twisting your head, you look to what he’s pointing out and snort, burying your face in his warm skin.

‘What?’ He asks, amusement curling the word.

You pull a face.

‘It didn’t fall over. I turned it over.’ You admit.

A beat.

‘Why?’ 

You rest your chin on his pectoral, taking in the crease of confusion between his brows. You lean to kiss it away, because you can, now. Because you never have to think about it without doing it again. 

You squeeze your lip between your teeth.

‘It’s uh - it’s a picture of me and Dad.’

He frowns again, eyes searching your face. You exhale.

‘I didn’t… I didn't want him to - see?’

He chuckles softly, pink dusting his cheeks as he swipes a hand across his jaw, thinking, remembering.

‘I didn’t see you do that -’

‘I did it before I came over.’

You cringe a little at the confession. Silly now that it’s happened, but still.

‘Before…?’

You nod. Mhm. A smile teases at his lips, eyes lighting with mischief.

‘But we didn’t - I mean - we didn’t plan it -’

‘I know,’ you groan, hiding your face again. ‘I just had a feeling.’

Frankie snorts, squeezing your hip.

‘Good feeling, baby.’

‘Asshole.’ You giggle, nipping his skin between your teeth.

He laughs again, shifting you in his arms so he can hold you properly.

‘Good job I didn’t try anything last week, then,’ he smiles, ‘Can’t have him thinking I’m not a gentleman -’

‘Frankie, you literally came in your pants -’

He gasps in mock offence, squeezing you tighter.

‘And so did you!’

You laugh, properly, against him, chests leaping against each other. You press your lips to his neck as he presses his to your hair.

‘Hell of a first kiss, though.’ He chuckles.

He feels you tense as your heart leaps in your ribs. 

One last secret.

He loosens his grip, watching you, a flicker of worry cooling his joy. You chew your lip, brow furrowing, eyes flicking from somewhere in the middle distance to meet his.

‘What, baby?’ He whispers. You inhale deeply.

‘How much do you remember from Pride?’

He grimaces, relieved at your answering smile.

‘After eleven? Not a lot.’

You hum, pulling yourself from his arms. He lets you go reluctantly, watching as you stand. Your gorgeous body - gorgeous curves, the places he’s gotten to know so well over the last few hours, the marks that have begun to bloom after his lips and teeth. 

You rummage around in a dresser draw, turning to face him with a single thin, glossy strip of paper in your hands. You step back towards him, eyes catching on the way he's sprawled out before you. Golden skin, broad shoulders, one hand behind his head, bicep flexed. One leg thrown out from beneath the covers, his modesty - or what’s left of it - barely hidden by your sheets. A flash of heat moves through you. You bite your lip.

‘Do you remember the photobooth?’

‘Mhm. A little.’

You nestle back down next to him, the slip of paper still clutched to your chest. Your eyes dart to his again.

‘Our first kiss wasn’t last week.’

‘What?’

His eyes are wide, mind whirring as you hold out the paper for him to take.

A series of five shots of the two of you. Laughing, close, and then with mouths pressed together, hungry. The last one messy, still locked in a searing kiss, but he can see the drunk grins peeking through.

He exhales heavily.

‘We kissed at Pride?’ He asks, bewildered.

You nod, twisting your hands in your lap.

‘We did.’

He looks back at you, still confused. A little worried, a little disappointed. 

‘I’m sorry,’ he breathes, ‘I don’t remember -’

You laugh, knocking his shoulder with yours.

‘Neither did I, baby.’ You say, kissing his curls.

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

You suck a breath in through your teeth, shrug.

‘You didn’t remember, and I - I panicked. Didn’t know if it was just a thing for you or, you know, a thing.’

‘Like last week?’

You nod, sombre.

‘Like last week.’

He shakes his head.

‘You’re my favourite idiot, you know that?’

You scoff, brightening. 

‘Dick. I had no idea -’

‘I love you.’

The simplicity of it takes your breath away. Winds you, catches you right in the chest, battering against your heart.

His eyes are shining, and the truth of it is there. Has always been there. Somehow, you just never saw it before. 

I love you.

The weeks of wanting, of worrying. Of denying, of lying awake thinking about it -

‘I love you, too.’

His eyes crease at the corners, mouth lifting, tongue peeking from between his teeth.

‘Yeah?’ He breathes.

‘Yeah.’ You whisper. He swallows.

‘Think a part of me always has.’

There’s a prickle in his throat, heat behind his eyes. He wonders when it happened for you.

Wonders whether you had him from that first glimpse from Lucia’s room, from searching for bugs in your yard. Your tenderness with his daughter, the laughter in your eyes. From those moments you curled into his side on his sofa, when he’d come home, so relieved to find you in his house.

Knows, for sure, you’d had him long before his realisation on his porch, sand still between your toes.

He clears his throat, tangling your fingers.

‘That mean I get to call you mine, now?’

You smile, eyes watery. Hey, neighbour. I’m Frankie - from across the way. His curls in the sunshine, water balloons over fences. His broad back to you as he cooked dinner, the warmth of his arm around your shoulders. His gentle hands as you cried, phone calls through kitchen windows.

‘Please.’ You whisper.

The lightness in his beam is infectious, a tear spilling over as he kisses you and kisses you. Mine. Mine. Palms skating over skin, tangled in hair, an endless moment in morning sunshine. Your heart swells impossibly, stitched together, glued together by this man in your bed. You don’t know when he did it. But he holds it now, whole, fixing something you know your Dad never wanted to break.

‘Thank you.’ You rasp against his lips, chin wobbling. He doesn't ask what for. He knows, just by the look in your eyes. He shakes his head minutely, voice thick, quiet.

‘My honour.’

He holds you close, bodies melded together. You never want to let go, the tightness in your chest easing again as he makes you laugh, as you say it again, outloud, breathless. Mine. The whispers only broken by rumbles of noise outside, voices -

Deep voices in his backyard you can hear even from here. You groan into each others’ mouths, the sound dissolving into a laugh.

‘They’ll be wanting breakfast.’ You giggle quietly.

‘They can cook,’ he mumbles against your lips, ‘I’ve got mine right here.’

He squeezes your ass, dragging your hips against his thigh. Still wet, leaking from the two of you, something heating in his chest at the thought.

You hum, not helping the case by kissing down his chest.

‘Should really say goodbye at least.’

He grunts as you nibble at his belly, neither acquiescing or disagreeing.

‘And then,’ you continue, ‘I remember something about you keeping me in bed for a week?’

You pause, looking up at him. He curls a hand around your cheek, so tender. 

‘Me too.’ He whispers. 

You grin as you clamber back up his body, planting a firm kiss against his lips.

‘Couple of hours,’ you promise yourself, ‘And then I have you all to myself.’

He chuckles against your lips, an eyebrow lifting, repeating your words from a week ago - a lifetime ago - back to you.

‘We’ve got the whole summer, Bug.’

You giggle, wiggling your eyebrows.

‘Plenty of time for a ride in the sky, then, too.’ You grin, nudging him.

He presses a long, sweet kiss to your mouth.

‘I’d take you to the moon if I could.’

[mothhball]

Dark! Tom (from the party) has had a thing for Janet and Bill’s barely legal neighbor for so long. So at their party, while everyone else is drunk and too oblivious, Tom follows her outside and ((;

THE PARTY FAVOR

DARK!TOM X FEM!READER

summary Tasked with congratulating Janet in your parent's name, you head over to hand over a party favor. But a bottle of champagne isn't the only thing that's being thirsted over tonight.

warnings Tom is a little gross in this lmao. But it's Dark!Tom, so what do you expect 🥴💦 Big age difference!! (Reader is freshly 18, Tom is in his late thirties) P in V , unprotected, hints of drug use, foul language, alcohol consumption, cheating

notes Whoops, this got a little longer than I planned! my last little gift before I go on vacation lmao <3 tysm for requesting this, anon! I had fun writing this! Please turn a blind eye to any mistakes, I'm tired aaaaa

! MINORS DNI !

main masterlist • taglist • kofi word count: 2.9k

“God, I haven’t seen you in years.”

You tense up at the voice, turning around to stare at a familiar face. You were just in the middle of hyping yourself up to even knock on the door when said door opened, leaving you unprepared and caught off-guard like a deer in the headlights. But it’s not the person you expected. No, instead of the expected Janet, her friend April is staring back at you, throwing a wrench into your plans. See, you’re here on a mission. A mission with easy instructions.

Your parents left a bottle of champagne and a greeting card on the counter before they went to the theater, asking you to head over to your neighbors Bill and Janet to congratulate them on Janet’s ministerial appointment. But now, you’re already going off-course.

“April… lovely to see you,” you smile at her, nodding down towards the gift you brought. But before April can respond, Janet’s voice can be heard from inside.

“Who is it?”

“Your neighbor. The little one. Well, not so little anymore.” April gives you a once-over, not even pretending to be cordial with you. In a way, it’s admirable of her. She never bends over backwards to please people, and she definitely has no trouble speaking her mind. If only she wasn’t such a fucking hater.

Janet joins her in the doorway, looking at you with an expression that’s both relieved and distressed. If you’re the deer in the headlights, she’s the deer that has already made acquaintance with the hood of a bulky SUV.

“Oh, what a surprise. I didn’t expect you to come over, honestly. So lovely to see you. How are your parents?” Janet begins, raising her voice a little to drown out an argument that’s happening inside. You can see the forced smile, the exhaustion in every line on her face. And then, to both April’s and your surprise, Janet invites you inside with a wave of her hand. This wasn’t the plan. Not at all. You’re supposed to hand over the bottle and card and leave. Leave. Going inside the damn house definitely wasn’t part of your instructions.

“Uhm… Look, Janet, if this is a bad time –“ You try to decline, only to be cut off by the hostess of the party.

“No, no. Don’t be silly. Please, come in.” She notices your skeptical glance past her into the house, realizing that, despite her best efforts, you must’ve heard the last syllables of the argument that happened in the living room. Still, Janet puts on a brave face, desperate to play the part of the overjoyed, newly elected minister. The silence between you drags on for a few more seconds before she steps aside to make the invitation even more clear.

“Please,” she repeats, and this time it sounds like a plea you’re too polite to ignore.

The house feels off. You've been over a few times before, and the place has never once felt this… depressing. The living room reeks of misery, and you get the feeling that you stumbled into something you shouldn't be a part of. But now you're here, still clutching the bottle of champagne and the greeting card. There's a little stain on the red envelope, caused by your clammy hands digging into the paper, but you just assume that Janet won’t care.

You’re proven right when she takes the gift from you, only to immediately set the card aside in favor of opening the bottle of champagne. As she pours enough glasses for everyone, she tentatively tries to make conversation.

“I heard it was your birthday? You’re 18 now, aren’t you? God, what an age… So young. And so full of joy…” she trails off for a moment, and you witness in real time how her expression falls and twists into something pained and dejected. Then she catches herself and clears her throat, quickly replacing her sullen demeanor with something more cheerful. A typical politician.

“Well, happy belated birthday.”

Everyone else is stuck in their own thoughts, quietly muttering their congratulations, and you’re once again reminded why you never join the celebrations whenever your parents receive an invitation from Janet. You grace the group with a tight-lipped smile, downing your glass of champagne and accepting a refill.

The slam of the bathroom door almost causes you to drop your drink, and as you look up, you’re met by the sight of Tom stomping back into the room. You pause, unable to stop your eyes as they rake across his form, taking in the tension that has captivated every cell in his body. His forehead is covered by a thin layer of sweat, and his usually neat hair is tousled, plucked apart by skittish hands. You also don’t miss the way he hurriedly rubs the tip of his finger over his gums.

Tom clears his throat, straightening his ridiculously expensive suit jacket as he approaches you, and he meets your gaze with a look of recognition in his baby blues. Out of everyone in this dreadful group of characters, it’s him you get along with the most. At least you did, back when you last spoke and the air didn’t feel as thick as fucking tar. Something about Tom’s arrival only causes the tension to worsen, and you flinch as Janet’s hand lands on your shoulder.

“And your parents? Going on vacation, are they?”

You blink at her, taking a moment to digest the absolute whiplash this entire situation is giving you. This feels hellish, in a way. As if you’ve wandered into your own spinoff of Dante’s Inferno, desperate to crawl out of this ring of hell and back to your room to try and forget this ever happened.

“Yeah… They’re leaving for Italy in two days. Turin. For three weeks.”

Janet nods, looking absent as you answer the question she asked in the first place, and you awkwardly sip on your glass as she starts a new topic without acknowledging your response. You can feel Tom seething next to you as Janet speaks, radiating a nasty energy that’s seemingly directed at the host, sitting not too far away on a chair in the middle of the room. Tom’s jaw clenches, and you can practically hear how his teeth grind together.

Finally, he snaps.

“Are we going to pretend that nothing happened? Are we seriously going to pretend that Bill didn’t fuck my wife?”

The room immediately falls silent, and your eyes almost pop out of your head. So that was the topic of the earlier argument. You look at him, and he scoffs, turning away from the group.

“God, I –“ He cuts himself off, running his hands through his hair and down his face as if he’s trying to wipe the turmoil and exhaustion off his skin. Obviously, to no avail. “I need some air.”

Some minutes pass, and you feel incredibly out of place as another argument starts within the group, only getting worse with every glass of champagne—and now wine—that’s being chugged by everyone involved. You clear your throat, trying make yourself known.

“I should go as well. Uhm… it’s been nice. Congrats again, Janet.”

The woman in question doesn’t even notice that you’re slinking away from the party, too busy glaring daggers into her husband while Bill is talking about Marianne, Tom’s beautiful wife. Good lord, you’ve never felt more relieved to leave someone’s home.

Outside, you march through the small backyard, heading straight to the little gate that separates your property from your neighbor’s, and you’re almost back within your comfort zone when a voice stops you.

“Hey. Come… Come here for a moment.” You look over your shoulder, spotting Tom as he’s leaning against the wall next to the dustbins, head in his hands. Torn between your desire to leave and the empathy you feel for the man, you hesitate for a breath before you approach him.

“Are you alright? I can’t imagine…”

Without answering, Tom lifts the lid off one of the dustbins, revealing a gun sitting pretty among the trash. You can feel the blood draining from your face, and you recoil, breath hitching within your throat.

“Jesus Christ – “

“Shh, shh! I know. Just –“ Tom cuts himself off, raising his hands in an effort to calm you down. When you’re just looking at him instead of running, he lets out a sigh of utter devastation. “You know I can’t do this. And I won’t, but... I… I found out this morning that Bill…”

He shakes his head, unable to finish his sentence, and your heart twists a little as you see the tears welling up in his eyes. In an attempt to comfort him, you reach out to set a gentle hand on his shoulder, which causes him to crumble even more. Tom lets out a choked scoff, shaking his head as his anger grows alongside the grief and disappointment.

“And I’ve always been faithful! I never cheated on Marianne! Even though I’ve had plenty of opportunities! Even… God, even with you around, I’ve always… always kept a grip on myself.”

He sniffles, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, before he meets your eyes again, and you startle. There’s still anger in his eyes. But another emotion has joined in as well, filling his gaze with something dark and hungry that causes you to pull your hand back again.

Suddenly, you’re very aware of your situation.

“I’m sick of pretending. Sick of denying myself. I’m a man too, god damnit.”

He’s quick to snatch you, wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you in against his frame. You know you should struggle. You should tell him off. But you’d be a liar if you claimed that he had never once crossed your mind late at night. Tom is the kind of man who inspires your hands whenever you touch yourself. His face is the one you imagine hovering above yours when you’re knuckle-deep in your pretty little pussy.

“Wait, I –“ You try to speak, but he’s quick to maneuver you up against the wall, pressing you against brick and mortar and trapping you in place with his body.

“No. I’ve waited long enough.” He grits his teeth, catching both your wrists to pin them behind yourself over the small of your back and hold them in place with one of his larger hands. “Do you know how hard it was? To see you prancing around… I was always scared you’d have a boyfriend when you turned 18. Lucky me.”

You swallow hard, letting out a squeak as his free hand reaches around to pull up your shirt and bra, revealing your soft skin to the mild air and his eager fingers. Tom rolls one of your nipples between his pointer and thumb, tugging the hardening bud before he moves onto the next one, and you can hear how shaky his breath is getting as he continues to grope your tits. You squirm at a particularly harsh tug, causing him to press you up further against the wall, immobilizing you completely as he undoes his belt and zipper.

His deft hands take care of your jeans and panties next, opening them and pulling them down as much as he needs to gain access to your sweet cunt.

“Tom…” you whine, feeling the head of his cock brushing up against your dripping slit. He grunts in response, not bothering to hear you out as he sinks his length into your velvety folds, causing his breath to shudder against the shell of your ear. You wince, letting out a soft noise of discomfort as he pushes deeper, rolling his hips against yours to set a shallow rhythm.

“You can take it. Look at how fucking wet you are. You’ve thought about this before, haven’t you?”

You want to protest, but right as you open your mouth, he aims a rough thrust up against that delicious sweet spot within your cunt, luring a filthy noise from your lips that only spurs him on even more. Tom still has your arms restrained, picking up the pace of his thrusts as he stretches you open on his cock, getting your tight walls used to his girth.

His fingers push into your mouth, middle and ring pressing down on your tongue to make you gag and whimper simultaneously. Every time he shoves his fingers deeper, your body tenses and drool dribbles down your chin, right onto your exposed tits. It’s rough and fast, overwhelming you in more ways than one. Tom grunts into the crook of your neck, panting against your skin like a man possessed only by the desire to claim, to mark, to own.

The wedding ring still sitting around his finger clinks against your teeth, and you cringe, letting out a soft whine of discomfort that’s quickly shushed by the man behind you.

“Shh… Just be a good girl for me, yeah? Fuck, you squeeze my cock so well when you gag on my fingers…”

He pounds his hips against yours in quick, deep thrusts, fucking his cock into your cunt at an angle that makes your toes curl and your knees buckle. In that moment, you’re grateful that he chose to take you against the brick wall since you’re heavily relying on the structure and Tom’s grip on you to stay upright.

“And you’re so sweet… You don’t care about my job, right? No, you don’t. You’re not like Marianne. Always being so fucking sentimental on her high horse.”

He spits out the words, silencing any further comments from himself by sinking his teeth into your shoulder. The rhythm of his thrusts quickens as he chases his high, and his hand finally releases your wrists to instead reach between your thighs to rub insistent circles around your clit. The sudden jolt of pleasure draws a wail from your lips, and Tom pulls his fingers free from your mouth to instead stifle any noises more effectively with the palm of his hand. His mouth is next to your ear, allowing you to hear every rasp of his breath and the subtle whine of his voice.

“You’re going to cum for me, right? You’re going to finish nice and quietly like a good girl on my cock, hm? Yes, you are.”

He uses his grip over your jaw to make you nod, and he hums in approval as he meets your hazy eyes. Slowly, the pace of his fingers on your clit builds into a crescendo, and his gaze never once strays away from your face. Like a man dying of thirst, Tom drinks in every twitch in your expression, every breathy groan that’s muffled by his hand. He leans in to rest his forehead against yours right as you cream all over his length, twitching while he fucks you through your climax. Groaning, he removes his hand from your jaw to hold onto the flesh of your hips, pistoning into your fluttering cunt even faster, harder, more desperately.

Finally, his thrusts grow erratic, and he pulls out of you at the very last second, reaching for your panties to shoot his thick cum all over the soft fabric. Tilting his head back, he swallows hard as he milks himself dry with a few more pumps of his hand before he releases his grip on you. You slump against the wall, trying to catch your breath while Tom straightens out his appearance.

“This was… worth the wait,” he pants out, reaching into his pocket to pull out a marker. He kneels down, holding onto your knee, while he writes his phone number on the inside of your thigh, marking your skin with the black ink.

“Text me when your parents are in Venice. Or Turin. Or wherever the fuck they’re going.”

You nod back at him, whispering a small "alright,"  which makes him pause. He gets back up to his feet, pressing a quick kiss to your temple before he takes off his wedding ring and drops it into the dustbin right next to the gun. Your eyes meet again, and his expression softens for a split second before he leaves to get back into the house, throwing himself back into the dreadful party and leaving you behind to walk back home with shaky legs and sticky underwear.

Two days later, your parents finally leave for their trip. You follow them to the doorstep, watch with baited breath as luggage is crammed into the family car and the GPS is set up. Then, after the exchange of hugs and goodbyes; after your mom hands you 50 quid as an extra allowance and she waves to you out of the window as your dad starts the motor, they drive off and leave you alone. The house feels dreadfully empty as you close the door and lean against the frame. A minute goes by. Then another.

Eventually, you reach for your phone and open the contact you shouldn’t have saved.

“I’m home alone.”

Sent. Received. Read. For a moment, there’s nothing. You bite the nail of your thumb, grappling with the possibility that he regrets what happened and is now trying to avoid you. And maybe that would be for the best. Maybe you’d be able to move past it and make peace with the fact that you’ll never be able to feel those hands on your skin again. But then those little dots pop up. He’s typing. He’s responding.

“Good girl. I’m coming over.”

@ellebelleshelby @cilliansprincess @mcumorningstar @x0xomady @mandies24

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@ryecosse @ribbonystar @calicoartie

[shazdemon]

Sometimes, when I read/see Tom/V being portrayed as emotionless, idk whether to laugh or cry, coz like...this man literally made all his decisions based on the way others made him feel.

Dumbledore made him feel excluded from the very first minute and the purebloods obviously behaved as they did because he was a 'mudblood'.

And so, they are the main subject of his acts of revenge. He never forgets Dumbledore and he never forgets to make the purebloods bow. Like, this shit is ingrained.

Apart from that, when it comes to Harry, this man literally wasted time he could have spent killing Harry to boast??? And for no reason, coz he literally had shit to be done and a BWL to kill, actively? Like, my man needed his validation, right, it had been 13+ years after all...

It's like...you expect him to be a cold, clinical muder-happy guy, but he's not. He's a red-hot, enraged murder happy guy that will spare you if you fawn over him, no matter how imbecilic or annoying you are (wormy and bella disrespectfully).

He runs purely on emotion, and it was these emotions, namely his 'fear' of death that caused him to go after a literal baby of all things, I'm just saying.

Idk, to me he's less psychopath and more borderline, and there's nothing you can say to change that. Even at 80 he was still all emotion. A smart dummy, if you will, which is why you (I) love him.

Anyhow, thanks for coming to my random Tom Riddle Ted talk at 12.32 am! <3

[tangerinesgf]

Loved your first Tom Ryder fic!!!

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

Tom Ryder x FEM!reader

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

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

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

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

Yet this time it was neither one of those things.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck, fuck. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Guess you’d have to finish this later tonight. 

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

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

[pixeechix21]

The Ritual

Reader x Slytherin boys (Matteo and Theo)

Summary: When the ritual begins, the dark gives light to desires that need to be satisfied. You are a Slytherin and there’s the initiation for Last Year students. Pansy begs you to go, but what makes you agree is because, the Slytherin boys were betting you wouldn’t because you're a goody two shoes. When you arrive at the bonfire in the Forbidden Forest you're teased by Matteo and Theo.

TW: where do I start??? degradation kink, praise kink, primal, threesome, rough, M/M/F, blood, fighting, oral, p in v, fear kink, being chased, almost suggestion of rape (didn’t happen phew), trapping(idk wt it means necessarily but like it makes sense), teasing

WC:2.8K ish

Heading towards the dungeons you were ready to take off your tie and huddle up, hidden away from them. Entering the high vaulted main room, you search for them making sure you're safe. Pansy shrieks excitedly as soon as you take a step further. She runs up and hugs, “bitch where the fuck have you been!” she takes hold of you and steers you to the large leather couches situated in an arc, full of giggling girls. “Hey, y/n,” a couple smile and continue gossiping in whispering voices. You let yourself curl up between Pansy and Oliva. 

“Yeah, Snape wanted me after class to talk about extra work,” you explain, trying to play it cool and that you definitely weren’t getting some from Gryffindor. 

“Boo! You overachiever,” Pansy teases. “So you going?” She looks eagerly. It takes you a moment to realize what she was asking.

“Ehhhhh-”

“For the love of god, you better be,” she threatens.

“But I have to study and honestly I don’t want to be out there freezing my ass off,” you complain. You wanted to go but you really did have work you hadn’t done any of the assignments for tomorrow.

“You won’t be freezing your ass off if someone’s grabbing it. Pleeease,” she grabs your arms giving you faux puppy dog eyes. “We can even leave. After midnight,” she negotiates. You’re unsure, you’re low key excited about the Ritual, but… your brain tries to reason.

“Yeah pleeease, I know someone that’d want to get some,” Matteo's voice mocks from behind us. Aw shit, the Heirs. 

“Shut up Matteo, go find a fourth year to play with,” you retaliate facing the group of boys. Each tall and darkly handsome each in their own right. 

"Aww don't say that you know i prefer third years," he mockingly puts a hand to his heart in hurting. "I was merely offering an option."

"Ew Matteo," you, Pansy and Liv say in unison, rolling your eyes. "Anyways she would go for a dick like you, she's got Simon from Ravenclaw to help" she points out completely forgetting that that was said in confidence and that he broke it off to pursue "true love" or some shit. 

"We all know Simon couldn't please you," Tom chirps in walking along, already bored of this child's play. You roll your eyes and face forward ignoring their laughs echoing down from the boy's dorms. 

"He's not wrong he has that rat out of a sewer vibe," Liv agrees watching as your face screws up in a smile as you agree. 

"I'll go," you finally say.

"Yes bitch!" Pansy squeals again, jumping up and running to your room. 

The ritual is a customary initiation for final year Slytherins. All the staff know about it but they don't have enough energy to deal with stopping it from happening. It happens on the last weekend of autumn term, where everyone drinks endlessly and there's always a game involved. Hunt or be hunted; separate the mundane from the ambitious. 

As soon as Snape is reported to be tucked away in his master room, the students slowly scuttle out of the dungeons like mice, out to the dark forest. 

Pansy is readjusting her tits to be pushed out further, you shake your head giggling. "Shut up you're blessed with amazing tits," she dismisses you pulling down your shirt to stop you from hiding yourself. "Show what your mama gave you babies." The cold encircles your body and the full moon lights the path into the forest. In the middle behind a tangle of trees there's a small clearing in the middle a large bonfire burns. You see a page flutter up in the flames, probably used old books instead of fire, you think. You're nervous, unsure of the darkness and the rowdy teens drinking. Pansy spotted her boy toy and she left the bottle in hand. You walk around talking to others, slowly warming up as the fire burns brighter. Then just as everyone settled down, there was a shouting announcing, “everyone shut the fuck up!” On top of a newly fallen tree stood Draco. 

“As you all know tonight is the sacred night of the Ritual!” Everyone lifts their drinks shouting in excitement. “Alright alright, tonight’s special game is Tag, boys versus girls, as we are gentlemen we’ll let the ladies have a head start.” He goes on mischievously. “The Forbidden Forest is filled with monstrous creatures, but don’t lose sight of the real dangers. Us.” There’s geering all around. You search for Pansy but she’s nowhere to be seen. Don’t be a pussy, a small voice tells you. Inhaling deeply you accept the consequences whatever they will be. It’s a game, and you’re the chestmaster you got this, you hype yourself out. 

“We’ll start in 10 minutes,” Tom shouts. Everyone spreads out, you head out to search for a route. “The winners will be given the honorary title of King and Queen of Slytherine, and will be placed as head girl and boy of Slytherine house.”

“You warmed up?” Matteo cuts you off, eyeing you up and down. “I can give you a hand. Get you ready,” he steps closer. You instinctively step back. 

“Where you off to little bunny, we haven’t said go,” Theo breathes out smoke. The pungent smoke fills your lungs as you suck in your breath. He’s directly behind you, sandwiching you in.

“Go fuck yourself,” you say snarkily. Your chest rising up and down, tits rising and falling out of your small shirt. Matteo’s dead eyes look down to your chest, and smiles slightly, running his tongue over his teeth. Like a wolf ready to eat. 

“Trust me, I’d rather you do it,” he says slowly, inching closer. Theo chuckles as you step back again, this time his large hands take hold of your waist to steady you. A small hum of agreement comes from him. 

“I’d fuck your dad before you,” you spit out glaring up at Matteo. Challenging him further.

“Ha! I never thought power would be what gets you hot and heavy y/n,” he teases.

You’ve had enough, there’s too much adrenaline and alcohol running through your body to the point you’ve lost all reasonability, because suddenly you’re getting extremely hot. There’s a stirring down between your legs as he grabs your chin so that you look up at him. Feeling both of their hands holding you there, you feel trapped, encircled and being toyed with. 

Draco is counting down to zero and you’re starting to anticipate your escape. “Be careful little bunny,” Matteo starts.

“Wouldn’t want a big bad wolf to catch you,” Theo finishes, flicking his cigarette away. As Draco shouts zero, they both step aside, a devilish smirk plastered on their faces. They watch you intently as you start to walk away backwards then you turn around and bolt it.

There’s screams and giggles of girls as we make our way through the dark forest. I don’t even want to be the head girl you think regretting coming, the comfortable thought of your books and studies sounds like a much better option. You’ve slowed your running shouting and giggles only  distant echoes now. “Run run, bunny,” a voice says. You stop spinning around trying to gauge where the voice came from. The silence chills you to your bones, and you go into a sprint again. There’s laughing all around. You want to barf from the heavy breathing and alcohol. You check behind you, “GOT YOU!” Caleb James shouts, scaring the living shit out of you as he jumps out and takes hold of you. “Look who it is, the slytherin heirs’ slut,” he jeers, his breath stinks as he talks closely to your face, you turn your head in disgust. “Bet you’ll open your legs for me,” he starts to manhandle you and you scream for help. Your wand had fallen to the floor when he caught you. “Shut up slut,” he shakes you vigorously. There’s a snap of a twig in the dark. He stops his movements. You try to break free. Two dark figures step out of the shadows, their black clothes like camouflage. You never thought you’d be happy to see them. One of them advances upon you guys, he raises his fist and punches Caleb. A splatter of blood falls on your face, you step back watching them. Matteo dodges a swing and gets him in the ribs. Theo goes from behind and holds Caleb in a lock, “don’t you ever fucking try that you mud blood,” Matteo growls as he lands punches mercilessly. “Let him go he’s mine,” Theo steps back and Matteo tackles him to the floor.

Caleb gets Matteo breaking blood, a small stream coursing on his face. “Stop! Teo stop you’re going to kill him!” You yell. “Stop him Theo!” You jerk your head to Theo who’s watching happily taking a drag from his cigarette. 

“No this is all him,” he chuckles. Matteo’s knuckles are covered in blood and the boy isn’t responding any more. Face swollen and already purpling. After a second of two, Theo pushes off the tree, “alright I’m bored. Get off Matteo,” Matteo grabs Caleb's shirt and pulls him close, he says something that you can’t hear and then pushes him down.

He looks up at you as he gets up. “You okay?” He says quietly. His breath is erratic, a wild excited look fills his dark eyes. “You didn’t have to do that,” you start.

“A thank you would be polite,” he says sarcastically, approaching you. You can smell the blood and mint and he exhales from his mouth. Without you realizing your hand goes up and swipes his split lip, wiping some blood away. Suddenly he stops you by your wrist mid air. He takes you in close. He towers over you, “thank you,” you whisper. You’re released and snap out of the trance. Theo offers his blunt, taking it you relax as the smoke cradles you. “You caught me,” you laugh, not sure how to process those brief seconds you were scared for your life. 

“What’s the prize?” Theo teases, raising an eyebrow. 

“Come here and I’ll give it to you,” you joke. Well you thought you were joking until his shadow blocks the light of the moon and his black eyes gleam cravingly. You pull his head down, he opens his mouth slightly. You kiss him. His hands wrap around you and his tongue dominates your mouth. Ravaging your lips. Wanting to play with them like they did you, you break apart he looks disappointed at this. You put the blunt to your lips and breathe, exhaling as you eye Matteo who’s looking jealous at the scene in front of him. “And you,” you direct at him. Already your panties are wet with the idea of having them both. At the same time. 

Pansy would laugh her ass off, you think humorously. 

He comes to you with his hands snaking to your ass as he pulls you in close. He licks his lips, his eyes hooded heavily in lust. His kiss was determined. He wanted to show you. Force you to see that he’s the one you need. Behind you you feel Theo press himself into your ass, already growing harder you feel his dick on your back making you gulp. Reaching for him you pull his face into your neck, obediently he places hurtful kisses and bites up and down it. Matteo’s hot body firmly pushes you to Theo. Matteo’s hand needs your tits, as Theo’s moves down in front to your panties, his cold hands play between your wetness. You moan as you're over-stimulated. Turning your face to take Theo’s lips and bite. A clash of teeth and tongue. “You’re so wet for us bunny,” he moans. Matteo distances himself and looks at you both. Staring. He gets turned on at the idea of you entangled in his best friend's hands. He envisions himself giving you unbearable pleasure. How it’s hard to restrain himself and take you all for himself. “Take it off. Now.” He crosses his arms glaring at you as you make eye contact with him. Theo breaks away. First your pants fall to the floor. Your nipple hardens evermore at the chill and pure neediness. “More,” Theo presses. Lifting your shirt over your head that joins your pants on the floor. Tantalizingly you undo your bra. Then look through your lashes as you take off your pink panties.

They inhale at the sight of your beautiful naked body, both of them on the edge of tearing you apart. Your skin buzzes excitedly as you get on your knees in front of them. Your mouth starts salivating at the thought of having them both. “Want us both?” Matteo provokes. You nod your head, your hands eager to undo their belts. 

“Greedy little bitch,” Theo takes your hair and pulls it harshly. Your clit is crying to be touched, throbbing painfully. You can’t take it anymore. An unspoken agreement went between the boys, Matteo took you and Theo stood and watched. You have no time to react as you're thrown down, you hear the jingle and zipper coming undone. His hand palms your ass bruising it, you feel him slide his large tip up and down your slit, pushing in slightly then pulling out. Sexual frustration builds in you so much that you press your ass to him. “Needy little whore,” he chuckles as he thrusts himself in. Your back arches as he unfurls his hatred for you. There is no gentleness in his thrusts, none. He takes his hand to your front and starts edging you to your orgasm. Circling fast then slowly, taking you almost to the top then lets you settle down. Over and over he plays these cruel games. Theo eyes flare up as you look at him, eyes half open as if drugged by the sex, mouth open, you pant and moan. 

“You sound so pretty,” he crouches down, clearing a loose strand of hair, tucking it delicately behind your ear. He kisses you then stands up taking off his belt. “Take this Matteo, give her a lesson or two about power,” he hands his belt to Teo. He releases his grip from you and snaps the belt. The loud snap echoes in the dark.

 The Ritual so sexual and forbidden, it inspires even the most demonic of creatures. 

Matteo lets the belt hit you once, twice, three times each time, stinging more than before. You’re going to hate sitting down tomorrow. Theo comes back into your sight, his hard cock begging to be released. 

“Open wide bunny,” Matteo commands, setting down the belt and going back to circling your clit feverishly. As you come opening your mouth to let out sounds of pleasure Theo thrusts his dick into your mouth. His hands steady your head as he face fucks you, “fuck you’re better than I’d ever imagined,” you see sweat build on his forehead. “Look at you, such a beautiful little whore,” he wipes the strands of hair that are plastered to your face. 

“Fuck- God y/n you feel like heaven,” Matteo brakes out, as his own fucking doesn’t slow. You're so full that you start to feel another build up, it’s too much. It’s just enough. It’s not enough. Delirium comes over you as you cunt throbs, and you can breathe. The boys’ moaning and animalistic fucking sounds like a symphony to you. You cry out as you come again losing all control of your body. Theo finishes and wipes his come from your lips and you lick them clean as told so. Matteo’s nails mark you as he finishes ruthlessly. 

All three of you are a mess. Theo offers you a hand to stand up as Matteo helps you dress, picking out leaves from your clothes. Both treating you like a queen. You are lost, and they guide you back. “We found her! The Queen of Slytherin!” Theo takes your hand and bows. You are absolutely bamboozled at the fact that there were students playing tag and that they’re all cheering not knowing what just happened. Pansy yelled happily and you just nodded, thanking people as you passed by and headed to bed.

Because God knows the pain you’ll be in tomorrow.

[righteousruin]

He had created a debt. Aid that no one else had the resources for, perhaps outside of Bruce himself. And he -- or someone with his face, and blood -- had burned his bridge back to Gotham some time ago. He'd hardly been able to convince Poison Ivy to assist in Santa Prisca's revitalization, and to her he could offer the island itself. A home, and haven, where she could spend her own eternity undisturbed among the life she sowed there.

To Talia, for the League's supply chain, he could offer his blood and brains; he could endure the tasks that had left her men dead or broken. He could offer her all the time it took for their completion, in exchange for her help in rebuilding the towns and villages decimated by the venom trade.

To Bruce, he could offer nothing. He had lost his ties to the Wayne family a long time ago, to a man who had taken much more than his name. The boy was scarred, the old man was buried, and the "Bane" responsible was killed in Arkham. There was nothing he could set right in Gotham.

And the only other family -- The Six -- he had not spoken to them since he'd left. Ashamed of his relapse, ashamed of his absence from Scandal's life -- her wedding, her child -- he could not return. Instead, he had poured his effort into leaving her his island in pristine condition. Bane made certain that she and her loved ones would always have a home...somewhere safe they could go back to.

He was not there when she was gifted the land. He did not include himself in the invitation to live among them. Bane knew what awaited him in life. Bane knew what awaited him in death. There was no purpose in anchoring others to a sinking ship, unless he wanted them to drown.

But Talia had no such attachment to him. She had sent him to die a dozen times and more, on suicide missions and near-impossible tasks to repay his debt to the League. He had served her well, determined and unwavering. Now, his goal was complete. His debt was repaid.

He had given away his home, given up his name, and was freshly between reasons to say no.

"Something new?" He asks, still more himself than his exhaustion would hope, "And not a slave to the demon?"

She stares out the window and listens to what little he has to say. Unlike before, the combination of vowels and harsh consonants do not sound as sour to her ears. They have all known cages, the only difference were the colors. The drab gray of Bane's prison, the gilded gold of her balcony rails, the crimson red of parental blood on Bruce's fingertips... They all contain. Leashed by something out of their control. Talia thinks, her fingers curled, held by the thin line she's formed her lips into.

"You created a debt to the demon." She downs the remainder of her glass in the blink of an eye, forcing liquid courage she's never needed. Her feet spin in a circle as she turns to face Bane again. "You have repaid it by working on my orders. But I have one more."

One step closer, green eyes focusing with heavy intent to watch his expression.

"I am master now. The League is mine. " If she cannot convince Bruce to take the reins with her, or her son to return to a life neither of them wanted, perhaps he can lend aid. "Ra's al Ghul has died his last death. My brother, Dusan, he followed. I sent my sister to hell with them." In some way, she misses Ra's. His final death has left a hole in her heart that remains unfilled.

Her eyes leave him then. She can't think on that much longer.

"I ... should have Ubu with me but circumstances require something new. This is a request, Bane. Do you want to fill the role?"

[the-dumpster-fire-of-life]

CAN U PLS DO TOM X LATINA READERRR PLSS I LOVE UR POSTS SM 😋😋

#latinas4tomkaulitz 🤭

(hell yeah I can! Enjoy!)

Tom K. x Latina!Reader

We all know Tom is gonna be stolen by your aunties

He's getting all the tea and literally being fed every second

Your family does not stop asking about Tom

Especially because he's fuking famous and dating you

No offense

Tom is literally so shocked and tired on how long parties can go on

He was literally falling asleep on a chair when it hit two AM

He was fucked up as well

He most likely drags Georg, Gustav and Bill along as well to your family parties

And you know damn well your family gets their asses drunk

Not even on purpose Tom just challenged your uncle to drinking

Your family literally drops everything about you to Tom

Your mother showed him baby pictures of you while your aunt told embarrassing stories

You walk in with him and he is swept away by your aunties and mother the second they see him

They give him so many weird but funny nicknames as well but some are cute

Main one is Germany though because you're family ain't creative

Your cousins are dragging Tom around as well

Especially when Bill tags along

Your little cousins are all over them and having the time of their life

Especially after they learn about their fame

Tom just loves when you speak Spañish

Especially cussing him out

It may be toxic but he loves that shit

He cannot take anything seriously when you are mad at him and yelling at him in Spanish

He slips in so many flirty and dirty comments

He cannot stop

He likes learning about your culture as well

Keep the spice down for a bit because he may not be able to take it all at first

But he will fuck that shit up because it tastes so fucking good

He never leaves without a plate of food

Or beer

Also please make him be a chambelan

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@billsjum6ie @bigbootahjudy @ilovebill-and-gustav @r3dheadedw0rld @kiwitsune @V4mpyboyy @novaaisstupid @billybabeskaulitz @yas-v @iischafer @dilfverz @ahswhore0 @graciegizmo3184 @sweetpuffy12 @80s-tingz @ryiana @yuriayato5 @bunnysenpai31 @banshailey @bellastoner420 @victryzvv9 @stxngnr @killed-kiss @stilesandjames @m00nzyblogs @sylisan @lyzit @trixiekaulitz @laylasbunbunny @5hyslv7 @limaswife

[greedystevie]

WARM ME UP

not as it seems part two

college!steve x college!fem oc

summary: you and steve are doing homework but you cant seem to concentrate

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) cock warming

word count: 1k

18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 18+

authors note: okay this is actually a little bit of a novel i've been working on but i named one of the main character's steve so now i just keep thinking about steve harrington whenever i write for it so this is not a y/n insert but i don't describe the fem!main character in any specific way so go and imagine yourself :) but also don't be surprised if this disappears in the future

Thomasina was impatiently waiting for Steve to be done with his essay. She herself had given up on working for the night when she heard the string of curses drip from his mouth. It had turned her on so feverishly that now she was pacing around the perimeter of the living room. She was actually slightly surprised that he hadn’t popped his head up to wonder what she was doing, but he was so focused at the island in the kitchen why should he.

The glow of his laptop, the buzzing from the red bull through her veins. It was becoming too much. She needed him. She needed him now. Chewing on the inside of her lip Thomasina silently moved towards him. Swaying back and forth when she didn’t dare come any closer. Legs stiff as boards, trying not to rub them together and feed the temptation without him. Reaching out to touch his shoulder, hand hovering over it for a few seconds before crash landing on its surface.

Jumping up startled Steve pulled out his earphones, big eyes staring into her needy ones. “What is it?” He asked, concerned. Hand coming to wrap around her thigh. Sending shivers through her body.

“I really need you baby,” she dragged out. Biting her bottom lip.

Steve knew she was serious because she never calls him baby- ever. “You can’t wait?”

Thomasina shook her head no.

“Shit Tom cat,” he sighed heavily. “I’m in the final stretch,” Thomasina mewed when he said those words. “Really? You’re that horny?” She nodded in return. “Fuck. Come here.”

Steve pulled Thomasina by the hip to between his legs. Gently he brushed his hand across the front of her thigh towards her pussy, before his fingers even reached it he could feel how wet her underwear had become. “Oh baby,” he whined. “You really need me.”

Thomasina hummed as her body started to vibrate from his touch. “Whoa calm down baby,” Steve chuckled. Removing his hand from her sensitivity. She pouted, yearning for his return. “Be patient my love.”

“I’m trying,” Thomasina whined.

“Well try harder,” he said, getting off the barstool. Pulling down his sweatpants and boxer briefs in one go. Sitting back on the stool he motioned for Thomasina to come closer. “You ready Tom cat?”

“For what?”

“You ready to be taken care of?” He said through a few breathy gasps as he pumped himself enough to get hard.

“Always.”

Steve took action, taking her clothing away from her hips and down to her ankles. She stepped through the holes in her garments ready for whatever surprise he had in store for her. “Alright babygirl come here,” Steve picked her up off of the floor. Hovering over his semi-hard member he set her down on top of him. Sliding into her perfectly like a puzzle piece.

Before she had the chance to react Steve brought his warm finger to her mouth, “are you going to be a good girl and wait until I am done?”

“Yes sir,” Thomasina nodded softly into his hand. Leaning into his chest as she wrapped his arms around him for balance.

Pulling his laptop towards him Steve feverishly worked to finish while Thomasina was cooing into his ear. Every once in a while he would bring a hand up, rubbing along her spine. It drove her absolutely crazy. Vaginal walls pulsating around his cock causing him to moan loudly. “Shit,” Thomasina whispered in his ear. Breathing heavily, “I’m sorry baby.”

“No babes, it’s my fault for torturing both of us. I should’ve known how you would react,” he breathed in sharply. Tapping at the keys on the laptop one more time before closing it for the night.

When she heard the snap of the laptop close Thomasina moved to look at Steve’s face. “Did you finish?”

“No.”

“Am I that distracting?” Thomasina pouted.

“Yup,” Steve nodded. Digging the pads of his fingers into the sides of her hips so hard he left his fingerprints indented in her skin. Lifting her off of him and gently setting her back on the floor. Getting out of the seat, leaving his pants under its legs. Grabbing Thomasina’s hand dragging her to the bedroom.

Ripping open the drawer to the bedside table picking out a condom. Opening it, rolling the rubber onto his erection and sitting down on the plushy mattress. Patting his lap ready for Thomasina to ride him once more.

Sliding her knees onto the mattress, one on either side of his legs. Steve massaged his cock back into the comfortable blanket that was Thomasina’s pussy, still warm from his last visit. “Oh fuck,” he moaned into her ear when she started to grind her hips against him. “You are going to kill me one of these days.”

“Only if you don’t kill me first,” she whispered into his neck. Letting the sensation of pleasure completely overtake her senses.

Humping his lap harder, faster nails digging into his back. Voice growing ever higher pitched with every new sound that erupts from her lungs. Steve repaid the sentiment by tightening his grip on her hips. Guiding her the way he wanted her, not that she always took direction.

“Stevie,” Thomasina panted.

“Yeah baby?”

“Stevie,” she surprised him by pushing him back onto the bed. Practically screaming as she took her new freedom to bounce faster on top of him.

“Woah Tom cat,” Steve found his grip on her hips again. “Don’t have too much fun without me,” he chuckled. Finding a more comfortable position for the both of them.

“Pussy,” she smacked his chest lightly. “You could’ve finished with your ass hanging off the bed. You could’ve finished if we fell onto the floor. I know you, nothing could ever possibly stop you,” she smirked down at him.

“Ugh,” he moaned loudly. “You are such a dirty girl, I love it.” He moved his hand up Thomasina’s torso, sending shivers up and down her spine. Rubbing circles at her sides that made her weak in the knees.

“You bitch,” she breathed. Vagina pulsating around his cock, ready to cum all over it. “I’m gonna-“

“Me too baby.”

[mydear-corinthian]

welcome to burlesque

synopsis - tommy attends to this new burlesque club and he didn't expect to see you there

pairing - tommy shelby x reader (dancer!)

warnings - SMUT +18, breeding kink, creampie, p in v, unprotected sex.

notes - rushed, this is my favourite song and movie ><, divider by saradika-graphics

main masterlist | peaky blinders masterlist | cillian murphy masterlist

After the first World War, the inner-city of Small Heath, Birmingham is not lively that it used to. Loads of soldiers coming home from the war were traumatized; only finding comfort in whores, cocaine, alcohol, and betting.

With lots of men now drinking and snorting on their snows, alcohol businesses, betting shops, and cocaine distributors are now on their peak of their business like the well-known gangster, the man himself, Thomas Shelby.

It was the usual day for the gangster. His family running their businesses and sorting out gangster fights. Tommy is miserable in a way that he has no one to talk to or engage something with. Sure, he has his family but all he can talk about to them is business. With women, he still cannot find the right women for him.

As Tommy walked on the bland streets of Small Heath, inhaling his cigarette, he was approached by his friend, Johnny Dogs and his other workers. As Johnny walked to catch up with Tommy, he placed his shoulders on the gangster's shoulders.

"What ya up to, Tom?" Johnny Dogs asked, a smile planted on his face.

"The usual, John, business," Tommy sighed before he replied, continuing to inhale the cancerous stick.

"You should go to this club, Tommy! There's a lot of women in there, I heard. Just recently opened," Curly joined the conversation.

Tommy's eyes began to look at them. Recently opened? A club? In Birmingham?

He began to be interested and curious at the same time.

"Curly's right, Tom." John said. "Maybe you'll find someone there, eh? Or maybe just loosen up."

"There's nothing new with that, Johnny. There's whores everywhere. What's so special about this club," the older Shelby replied.

"Heard the women there are.. unique. Dancers."

Strip clubs in Small Heath isn't new for Tommy. But it's a bit confusing for him to see why his friend is very invested in this club. Maybe there's something more and special about these women and dancers. He cannot help but think.

"What ya say, Tom?"

After a few minutes of deciding, he exhaled.

"8:00 PM."

The boys cheered and clapped, playfully hitting each other's shoulders with their elbows as they cheered. A huge smile were planted on their faces

• • •

It was finally 7 in the evening. Tommy Shelby was already dressed for the man's night. A velvet red tie decorated his grey suit. His long black trench coat keeping him warm. The golden pocket watch with the engraved 'Shelby' name on the back hanged on the small pocket of his charcoal vest.

"Where are you going, Tom?" Polly asked as he saw his nephew exiting the manor.

Tommy placed his newsboy hat on his head, styling it properly as he replied to his aunt,

"Night with me boys. We'll be back by morning."

"Hope you're not plotting something again, Thomas."

"Yeah, no, aunt Pol." he coldly replied before finally shutting the door.

• • •

The ride was a little long, especially how this club is in the Northern part of Birmingham. The Blinders have finally arrived. Getting off their cars and entering the club like they owned it. The entrance fee lady didn't even bother asking them to pay since, well, they're the Peaky Blinders. Other customers hurriedly gave way and emptied the tables for them.

The club was lit in a red color. Circular tables with lamps were placed everywhere in front of the medium sized stage. Renaissance paintings were hanged all over the walls of the club. Tommy was suprised by this new club, it shows how the owner definitely has a budget for this.

The gangsters finally sat on their chairs just near the stage, ordering up a few drinks before the lights turned off, only focusing on the stage.

"This club is a Burlesque?" Tommy asked as he sipped a glass of whiskey he ordered.

"Yeah. Can't you believe it? The first every Burlesque club after a decade!"

The small band on the side of the stage started to play a jazz-like original song. A woman with a black top hat decorated on her (h/c) hair, a combination of black and white colour painted her tight corset while a pair of black fishnet stockings kept her warm appeared on the stage with a few dancers.

As the song started, you began to sing. Swaying your body seductively to the melody of the song, you looked at the guests. There were a lot of people in the club making you nervous but you decided to brush the anxiety away.

Tommy was widened by the performance but it wasn't the first time that he witnessed it; it's just that he haven't seen this kind of performance in years. His baby blue eyes followed you as you sang, mesmerized by the shift looks on your face. He kept a close eye on your legs as they moved fluidly and elegantly to the music. His eyes lingered on the way the tight corset tightened in your curves and making your form seem more beautiful with each breath. He was lost in focus, taking in each detail of your performance.

You looked at the audience again and now your eyes caught him.

Thomas Shelby.

The man himself.

You felt your heart drop, you know that one day he will visit the club but you didn't expect that it will be today. It was like a faraway memory coming to life the first time you saw him since the war. You remembered the moment that ignited everything between you, helping him with his broken arm in that dark tunnel. You can still feel the warmth of that kiss you had under the sycamore tree, and the letters you wrote one other later that carried shards of your hearts. That gentle kiss represented the silent relationship that has become stronger with every written word and every memory exchanged.

The way he looked at you felt the same: soft and genuine.

Tom had already shown many signs of trauma during the war, but he always felt safe and well while he was with you in the medic tent or on walks. You ended the gazing exchange between you two by continuing to dance.

You got a lot of "woo" and "yeah" remarks from the crowd as you went on singing and dancing sensually with your girls.

Tom began to be curious. You seem so familiar to him but he's not sure where you guys met.

"Who's the singer, Charlie?" Tom began to ask, leaning, his mouth just behind Charlie's ear.

"Oh her? That's (Y/n) (L/n). I heard she served in the war as a medic. Lovely ain't she?"

Oh.

Now Tom can recall who you were.

It was you, the nurse, who saved his arm after a bullet struck him in that tunnel. His memories of the war flashed back, and for the first time he wasn't afraid. Rather, he was somewhat happy. He recalled how you carefully applied a white bandage on his arm with your soft, delicate hands. She asked about how he was while exchanging life stories with him. How you kissed each other beneath the sycamore tree.

"Welcome to Burlesque!" The dance finally ended. A huge smile plastered on your face as you bowed, the big curtains coming down the stage. Loads of men including Tom's gang stood up and cheered, their claps echoed the club.

As you went backstage and sat on your vanity, you cannot help but recall who you just saw. His eyes were still the same; his blue eyes shining as his eyes locked yours. Memories of you and him talking, kissing, walking together flashed on your mind, making you frown at the memory that you hope you can still experience it again.

Meanwhile, Tommy excused himself, telling his gang that he'll be visiting the backstage to talk to someone. They didn't interfere nor asked who and why.

Tom finally arrived at the backstage, seeing women changing to their next-performance clothes. The dancers gasp at the sight of the notorious gangster, immediately covering up their bodies with their clothes. He cleared his throat due to the awkward moment, starting to ask where you were. "

Where can I find (Y/n) (L/n)?" Tom asked.

"B-back room, Mr. Shelby."

As Tommy walked towards the wooden door of your own vanity room, his heart raced. He felt his muscle goes numb every step he took. He doesn't know how you will react if he saw you. Will you be mad for him leaving you all of a sudden after the war? Will you be sad? Will you be happy? He doesn't know and he cares about that.

Taking a deep breath, his pale palms twisted the door knob, opening the door. He finally saw you. Sitting on a circular chair in front of your well-lit vanity mirror, loads and loads of make-up scattered on your table. You were wearing your long black corset only.

As you noticed the door opening, you looked at who it was while trying to remove your earrings. Finally looking at the person, your heart instantly dropped. You finally saw him up close after years of having no contact.

"Thomas..?" You stood up, feeling every electricity in your body flinched.

"(Y/n)."

A part of you wants to run up to him and give him the tightest hug and another part of you wants to scream at him for leaving you just like that.

"Why are you here?" you answered coldly but your voice softy broke, trying not to cry.

"I'm sorry," he spoke up. "..for leaving you just like that. I didn't mean to. I-It's just that - I didn't knew what to do."

As a former medic, it's understandable due to his mental state during the war. But as his lover, you just wished he stayed.

"Where were you, Tommy.."

"I'm so sorry, my love," Tom apologized, slowly walking towards you, cupping your cheek with his palms, stroking your chin.

"I missed you, Tommy. I thought you were gone." you whispered, holding his palms that were cupping on your cheeks, a tear finally fell from your sad eyes.

You tried finding him during and after the war but you failed. You forced yourself to move on, thinking that it was just for his comfort that time and you mean nothing to him now.

Slowly, his lips met yours. Allowing himself to be reunite with you. Tom's hand gripped your side hip as the kiss began to deepen. And there it is, you felt the same feeling when the both of you kissed under that sycamore tree.

He gently pushed you on the door, continuing the make-out session as his fingers locked the doorknob.

"Fuck, I missed you.."

"..so much," Tommy whispered in between kisses.

Your spine tingled with electric shocks as he sucked and kissed your neck, causing you to gasp and sigh with a mixture of pleasure and excitement. With an ache that made it seem as though he hadn't tasted anything like this in years, his lips finally discovered that sweet spot he had been longing for.

Every kiss was intense, every suck a confession of his insatiable appetite, making you insanely addicted. You got caught up in the moment, losing yourself in the heat of the moment as your fingers became tangled in his hair and gripped harder with every pleasure pulse.

"You taste so sweet, my love," he said.

You began to undo your black corset, leaving you with your black lacey bra and underwear, and your fishnet stockings. Trying to undo the stockings, Tom interfered.

"Leave the stockings on."

Nodding, your lips and his met each other again. Tommy's lips were stained with your red lipstick. The two of you ran to the vanity table, your hands removing all the items and make-up that was placed there while Tom began to unbutton his trousers and then his underwear.

You felt so aroused as your black panties were soaked wet. Your hole aching for Tommy inside.

"So wet already?" his deep voice made you wetter.

"Please, Tom. I need you.."

His cock sprung free out of his boxers, revealing how hard he was. He pumped it first with his hand before he moved your panties to the side instead of fully taking it off, allowing him to enter you.

You gasped aloud as his long, thick length began to gently and deeply penetrate you, each inch sending waves of powerful pleasure through your entire body. Tom, at the same time, moaned lightly as he enjoyed the way your close warmth surrounded him, the closeness sparking a fire between you both. His movements had a steady, deliberate pace, and your bodies seemed to melt together as each thrust was delivered with delicate passion. Your in unison breathing and softly spoken confessions of love filled the room, each one increasing the sensual, romantic connection between you.

Your body faced the mirror so he was fucking behind you. After a few minutes of you adjusting to his length, he began to thrust slowly.

"Oh fuck," you moaned.

"You feel so good — fuck!"

Your breasts bounced in time to every thrust he made, and your moans got louder and stronger. Euphoria rushes over you, bringing you closer to the brink with each move. You realized how much you had missed his presence and the way he filled you up entirely because of the pace of that moment. The overwhelming happiness served as a clear reminder of the intense touch and need you had experienced while he was away.

Your head lowered and your palms gripped the side of the bright vanity table. Your head was messy, a few strands of hair covered your face.

You can hear the breathy moans that Tommy let out. His rough fingers gripping your waist as his lower body jerked up, his head rolled back.

As he noticed your head looking down, his right palm gripped your jaw, making you look up and look at the mirror forcely.

"Look at yourself while I'm fucking you, honey."

Nothing but your shared moans, grunts, and skin slapping echoed the whole room. You didn't care how loud you guys were, you just want to think of him and him alone.

Feeling your orgasm build up, you began to let out a louder series of moans and gripped his arm.

"Tom—fuck! I'm close.."

"Yeah? Go on, cum on my cock."

"Yes Tommy, yes! Oh my god!"

"I'm gonna fill you up, yeah? Put a baby inside you. Gonna be the mother of our children, mhm?" he whispered on your ear as his pace quickened.

Finally, your orgasm came, making a mess on his massive dick. After a few more thrusts from Tommy, he came inside you, filling your walls with his sticky white cum.

The both of you panted, catching your breaths. Tom finally pulled out, making your aching hole leak out your shared juices. He let out a satisfied groan.

"Fuck, that was hot," he said, giving you a passionate kiss.

"I love you, Thomas Shelby."

"I love you, (Y/n) (L/n)."

[problematicraccoon]

I NEED TO TALK ABOUT MY GIRLBAND DR RAAAHHHHHHH LISTEN UP FUCKERS

so first of all, my girlband is called Ultraviolet, or UV for short. our fans call us vivies, like how people call the lesserafim members "fimmies", and we call them vivies too. a little running joke between us is that the members are senior vivies and our fans are junior vivies. we debut on February 14th, 2025 with seven members; me, Sierra, Nicole, Emmy, Linh, Brooke and Annika.

me and Sierra are the moms of the group. we've been best friends since we met as trainees when we were both 12, and have been inseparable since. she's also my love interest <3

me and Emmy are like the tom and jerry of the group, always messing with each other and beating each other up (lovingly).

Linh, Brooke and Annika are the babies. as the eldest of the baby line, Linh is very protective of Brooke and Annika, even though Linh's 5'2 while Brooke is 5'5 and Annika is 5'9 😭. all of us older girls are way shorter than the youngest, but the shorter ones are very strong and baby the HELL outta the younger ones. its very much giving (see meme at bottom of post lmao)

im the oldest and the leader, while Sierra is twelve days younger than me and is my co-leader.

pretty much all of the members are queer in some regard except for Annika, who we joke is our token straight friend.

we end up becoming even more popular than bts 😼 this is my dr it can be as self indulgent as i want shush

Nicole is the mean one (said lovingly) and is always pissing everyone off (again, lovingly) with her constant sarcasm

Brooke and Annika, as the babies of the group, are basically joined at the hip. never leave each other alone. practically superglued to each other.

we're entirely self produced. i'm the main producer/composer/lyricist and Sierra and Emmy are producers and lyricists too.

here's our discography:

debut single: America's Sweethearts (og artist: Lauren Presley)

first mini album:

title track: Brutal (og: Olivia Rodrigo)

What it Means to Be a Girl (Emeline)

This is How I Learn to Say No (Emeline)

Stray (jxdn)

Freaks (Surf Curse)

second single: Mrs Potato Head (Melanie Martinez)

first full album:

title track: All About Me (lilyisthatyou)

All or Nothing (topic & hrvy)

Mantra [my solo] (Jennie)

I Want That (g-idle)

SLAYYYY [Nicole solo] (upsahl)

Bad Energy [Emmy solo] (lilyisthatyou)

Only One [Annika solo] (vcha)

Queen [Brooke solo] (Loren Gray)

More Than a Friend [Sierra solo] (girli)

Flare [Linh solo] (ashwarya)

second mini album:

title track: TAKE MY NIRVANA (pvris)

I DON'T WANNA DO THIS ANYMORE (pvris)

Therefore I Am (billie eilish)

Isaac (bear's den)

Punisher (k.flay)

third mini album:

title track: Tears on the Dancefloor (upsahl)

Painful Euphoria (lilyisthatyou)

Stuck (day wave)

Collide [sped up. me, Brooke and Nicole unit song] (Justine Skye. and the rap with that guy isnt there lmao, i hate that part)

Summer so Hot (upsahl)

fourth mini album:

title track: WOKE UP (xg)

till my hands bleed [me, Sierra, Emmy unit] (neffex)

Tomboy (destiny rogers)

NO HANDS (upsahl)

Vicious (tate mcrae)

Body Talk (ofenbach & SVEA)

SICK PRETTY MIND [Nicole and Brooke unit]

Dance (lilyisthatyou)

Body to Body (telykast)

Shiver (john summit & hayla)

Moonlight Magic [me, Emmy and Sierra unit] (ashnikko)

third single: Monica Lewinsky (upsahl)

fourth single: PINK LIKE SUKI [uv ft. Megan Thee Stallion] (pebbles&tamtam)

fifth single: Dancing with a Stranger (sam smith & normani)

second full album:

title track: Die with a Smile (lady gaga & bruno mars)

FRI(END)S [Sierra solo] (v)

Me or You [Linh solo] (matteo bocelli)

Spiral (lilyisthatyou)

her [me and Brooke unit] (jvke)

Je te laisserai des mots (patrick watson)

oh love [annika solo] (delaney bailey)

Mom [my solo] (meghan trainor)

friendly fire (eaJ)

Lifeline (the rose & transparent arts)

Love Story (indila)

Slow it Down (benson boone)

Sad Forever (lauv)

Invisible Things (lauv)

I'm Different Now (rosie darling)

Dying Star (ashnikko)

my home (the change)

sixth single: LOVE WAR [Todrick Hall ft. Ultraviolet. we add our own verse]

seventh single: SHE (winona oak)

fifth mini album:

title track: MEAN! (madeline the person)

Older (sasha alex sloan)

Dream (priscilla ahn)

j's lullaby (darlin' i'd wait for you) ((delaney bailey))

Angel Baby (troye sivan)

Beautiful (bazzi)

All 4 Nothing (I'm so in love) ((lauv))

i'm so tired... (lauv)

eighth single: Monica Lewinsky (upsahl)

ninth single: Love U Like That (lauv)

tenth single: She Knows It (maggie lindermann)

eleventh single: Dernière Danse (indila)

sixth mini album: Play With Fire (sam tinnesz)

HALO (lilyisthatyou)

Aimed to Kill (jade lemac)

Hellhound (deathbyromy)

HARD TO LOVE (lilyisthatyou)

Animal (emeline)

Chokehold [Emmy and Sierra unit]

don't break my... [me, Nicole and Brooke unit (kenzie cait)

HE KNOWS [me, Nicole and Brooke unit ft. lil nas x] (camila cabello & lil nas x)

twelfth single: body bag (caroline romano)

bsides: supercool (ariana and the rose)

i gave you everything (ekkstacy)

that's all i got for the discography so far.