#Tom (the party) x reader

[bluetimeombre]

Cowboy like me! ▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||။‌‌‌‌‌၊|• 0:10

Your band has a new single out and a certain actor stars in the music video. Sparks fly just as high as rumours.

[i get so bored in work so I get so inspired to just write a bunch of thing i wish I was doing instead of sitting around. I’m still thinking of how to end ‘call it what you want to’ but enjoy this for now. In this I’ve used the last dinner party as a reference cause hello?! Obsessed, but ur band is called 15screens- idk I made it up]

▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||။‌‌‌‌‌၊|• 0:10

liked by… yourusername, tomblyth, florencepugh & oliviarodrigo

15screens: ‘cowboy like me’ music video out now!!! Staring the cowboy himself Tom Blyth!!

895k likes 501k comments

user: FINALL6!!!!

user: omg it’s gonna be iconic

user: my favourite band and favourite actor?!

user: omg!! Omg!!! Ahhhhh!

user: the drought is over

user: they’re feeding us!!

user: NEW ALBUM WHEN

user: cowboy like me is such an underrated track of yours

user: tom is so hot as a cowboy I actually can’t

user: I can’t tell who I’d rather be in the music video, tomblyth or yourusername

tomblyth: thank you so much for having me! An honour

15screens: come back anytime

user: I’m shipping, I’m shipping

user: did everyone see yourusername and tomblyth in the music video!!!! So hot

user: best girl band in history

liked by… 15screens, tomblyth, emmalouisecorrin, tchalamet & rachelzegler

yourusername: cowboy like me!! Feast your eyes

tagged: tomblyth

982k likes 561k comments

user: feasting my eyes i am

user: miss GURL

user: best music video ever

user: excUSE ME?! The part where your in a field just casually undressing ONTOP of the TOM BLYTH

user: you know what they say, save a horse…

user: nobody has ever looked so good in a cowboy hat 😍😍

user: tom blyth is a lucky man

user: the CHEMISTRY

user: ur so hot together

user: she never misses

user: the last pic

user: hotttt

tomblyth: 🤠

user: tom 😭😭😭

user: all I’m saying is they’d be the hottest couple out there

liked by… yourusername, 15screens, rachelzegler & hunterschafer

tomblyth: cowboy like me music video, out now. What a wonderful experience, thank you so much 15 screens for having me

1m likes 766k comments

user: omg!!

user: what’s cookin good looking

user: the crossover we didn’t know we needed

user: he is so hot

user: suddenly I’m into cowboys

user: I’ll ride you like a horse

user: the last picture!! They’re so cute

user: they look so good together

user: I never thought, in this day and age I’d be shipping yourusername and tomblyth

user: so unbelievably hot

user: I need the song injected into my bloodstream

user: gnawing at the iron bars of my enclosure

user: I’m barking rn

user: not to be horny on main but I’m horny

liked by… tomblyth, 15screens, zendaya & Jacobelordi

yourusername: let them eat cake, she said

650k likes 300k comments

user: miss gurl?!????

user: TOM?!

user: I knew it!!

user: it’s been a month and I still haven’t recovered from cowboy like me music video

user: is this their announcement

user: save a horse, ride a cowboy

user: it’s happening!!!

user: I’m dead

user: THATS DEFINITELY TOM HE LIKED

user: confirm it so I can die happy

user: mother is mothering

user: she ate

user: so hot

user: a bisexual dilemma

liked by… 15screens, rachelzegler, joshuandresrivera & yourusername

tomblyth: soft launch?

tagged: yourusername

1.3m likes 889k comments

user: WHAT!

user: I don’t think tom knows what soft launch is

user: this is the hardest of all launches!!!

user: I knew it!!

user: NOOO I WANT TO BE THERE

user: I’m in love

user: parents!

user: she’s so hot

user: they’re gonna rule the world

user: this has cleared my acne and got me good grades

user: YEYYAYAY

user: that should be me! Holding your hand, that should be me making you laugh

user: tom- babe, that’s not what soft launch is

user: I didn’t know I needed this until now

user: and all to think it was because of that music video

liked by… yourusername, tomblyth, zendaya & oliviarodrigo

15screens: ‘The greatest’ out now, featuring blonde tom blyth (because yourusername begged him to go blonde and he’s whipped)

884k likes 651k comments

user: ONG again!

user: another one!

user: 15screens are officialy the biggest fans of tomblyth and yourusername

user: BLONDE IS BACK

user: yourusername Doing gods work

user: he’s so in love with her

user: he’s whipped Omg hahahahha

user: 15 screens is officially gonna be a Fanpage dedicated ti them

user: everyone say thank you yourusername

#tom blyth x yn #tom blyth x you #tom blyth fanfiction #tom blyth imagine #tomblyth #tom blyth x reader #the last dinner party #so hot 🔥🔥🔥 #holy fuck #cowboy #billy the kid #cowboy like me

[deceitfuldevout]

First and Last

Dark!Tom (The Party 2017) x ExWife!Reader

Word Count: +3,234

Warning(s): +18, Non con, ANGST, Domestic violence, Mentions of overdose/overdosing, Drug usage, Addiction, Forced drug usage, Heavy domestic violence, Forced breeding Accidental OD, Really long because I don't have a life.

Author's note(s): I wanted to post this before my trip. Idk if I want to make this into a 2 part series maybe if its good than ye 😃

You run into your soon-to-be ex-husband at a friend's party. He's determined to get a second chance. But some things never change. 

You met Tom in college. Both of you were part of the same friend group and would see each other often. He was persistent in pursuing you. Eventually mustering up the courage to ask you out. You said yes because you fell for him first. But it was Tom who fell harder. He was your first love, first kiss, first everything. After a year of dating, he finally pops the question. Everything seemed to be going fine at first. 

That was almost a decade ago. He's not the same man you fell in love with. Something inside him changed. There were times where you were unsure whether it was the drugs talking or how he truly felt. He would try to hide it but failed miserably. You can't remember how many times you've found his stash, which always resulted in an argument. You were sick of his excuses. It eventually got worse with his intake. He would arrive home half sober. You were sick of seeing him waste away like this. You remember finally deciding that enough was enough. 

After catching him at home for the fifth time, you decide to take action into your own hands. In a fit of anger, you retrieve his hidden stash and flush it down the toilet. When Tom found out his reaction wasn't what you had predicted. Not at all. He dragged you to the bathroom and demanded to know where his supply went. It was the first time he'd ever laid his hands on you. Instead of apologizing for bringing them home, Tom held you in a chokehold until you told him where they were.  

Never in your life would you imagine Tom of all people reacting in such a way. When you finally confess what had happened, he loses his temper. It terrified you how strong he became while under the influence. You were no match for his drug-fueled rage. Your wrist is still sore from how he held you down last week. There were bruises that were still healing for all the times before. But this one had been the worst punishment yet. He left you there on the bathroom floor, naked and sore. Tom hadn't bothered to look your way. He zips up his pants before leaving in search of his next 'fix'.  

That wasn't the first time he put his hands on you, but it was the first time you had left him. You received a string of desperate phone calls, voicemails, text messages all from Tom. You returned home to find him on his knees with a bouquet in hand and tears in his eyes. He apologized and promised to be a better man for you. That was shortly lived. When you arrived home from a late shift, you caught Tom using it again. This time it was different, you found Tom overdosing. You lunged towards him, "Tom?! Tom!" cradling his head in your hands, holding him close. It was the first time you've caught him. A part of you feared this wouldn't be the last.  

Tom had tried to make it up with sex, but you couldn't be around him anymore. You felt almost revolted how he didn't care. Having him around only reminds you of the pain. This time instead of throwing a fit, yelling, or crying. You simply packed all your things and left. What could you do with a man who refuses to change? Leave. You left for your mother's place, finally accepting that it wasn't your fault. 

The divorce papers were mailed to him. For a while now, Tom knew there was something wrong with him. He was just too stubborn to admit it. You'd spoken with a lawyer and there was a court date issued. In a few months from now, you will no longer be referred to as husband and wife.  

For the first time in years, you've finally let the feeling of guilt go. No longer were you going to let this define who you were. You weren't a failure as a wife. Because it was never your fault in the first place. Soon enough you were doing the things you loved again, even began to pick up a few new hobbies. That spark of joy began to return. You started dressing up in nicer clothes, going out, actually spending quality time with friends and family.  

Sometimes there would be a moment when you'd feel for Tom and wonder what he'd be up to. But then again did you really want to know? It would usually be the same thing, him being higher than a kite. Still, you couldn't help but mourn at the loss of your marriage. When you were young and promised to love each other until your very last breath. You still loved Tom, but he loved other things more. 

You were looking forward to your old college friend's New Year's party. A healthy dosage of socializing to get you out there again. You had the opportunity to catch up with everyone there. It felt as though no time had passed. You danced around, joined in some games, things were going well. But there was a lingering feeling that someone, somewhere was staring at you.  

That's when you spot him, Tom, sitting quietly at the end of the room. Your breath hitches at the sight of him twiddling his thumbs. There's a part of you that regrets not filing a restraining order. Tom always had a habit of showing up unannounced. You weren't in the mood for whatever he had to say. So, you left his sight, down the hall, to the nearest restroom. 

You sat on the counter, removing your heels for a moment. A groan escapes your lips as you rub both feet, knowing very well they would ache in the morning. Shit, you were really gonna feel that. You splash your face a few times, hoping that it would combat the summer heat. Completely unaware of the sound of the door opening. It was as if you knew who was behind you, turning around to find Tom leaning against the door. You gave him a glare, "Get out," you were in no mood for his emotional ambush. He ignores your request and calmly states, "I just want to talk to my wife," 

"We're not--" 

"Legally, yes, we are," he corrects. Always so condescending. It was one of the things you couldn't stand. How he would belittle your intelligence. It was the little remarks he'd make to shut down any effort you gave. He made you feel unwanted. He was the one who decided to push you away first.  

If only he could see past his own selfishness that you truly wanted to save this marriage. But in order to do so, he would need to admit that it was an ongoing problem. You didn't have to worry about a mistress, no. You had to worry everyday about finding him dead. You've caught him overdosing a few times. It eventually took a toll on you. To the point where you lost weight from the stress. Tom rakes his hand through his locks, "Of course you don't want to see me, nothing ever satisfies you," a snarky remark to try and get under your nerves.  

With the amount of alcohol in your system, it worked, "Are you kidding me?" you scoff, "Don't you dare lie to me Thomas, I tried everything, everything to fix us, can you say the same?" you growl in his face. Maybe it was the liquid courage that gave you a whole new attitude. Whatever it is helped with confronting him. His reaction, however, was not what you expected.

He smothers you into a deep kiss, pulling you into his embrace. You try shoving at him in an attempt to catch breath. Finally breaking free from his grip. For a moment, he's seems visibly hurt. You scold, "What you wrong with you?!" it wasn't fair. After all the hurt you've been through, Tom still tries to insert himself into your life.  

You deserved better. You try to shove him away. Instead, he shoves you against the wall, "Can't you see..." he presses his sweaty cheek against the crook of your neck, "You're my everything..." his voice sounding more desperate with each word. You scoff, "No, Tom, you can't do this..." tears began to brim, threatening to spill. His eyes are filled with worry, "No...now, baby please don't cry..." his expression is saddened but there are no tears. He kisses each cheek, ignoring your sniffling. Tom held you in place by the shoulders, "I couldn't stop thinking about you," it's true. You were his first love.  

Tom had longed to see his wife again. To feel her, touch her, caress and worship every part of her. He wanted to make things right, truly. But she just got up and left him. Like he was trash. What made her so high and mighty? He's so sick of seeing you always playing the role of a saint. For once he wants to see you get downright nasty with him. His breathing became frantic, "Can't you see? I'm addicted to you," there's a mischievous look on his face that you were more than familiar with.  

You place a cautious hand in front to create distance, "Tom, listen to me, you’re high right now, you're not in the right--" you were muffled by his hand, "No! No! Listen to me!" his voice booms. His sudden mood swing scares you. So much so that your nails dig into his wrist. He hisses in pain, "Stop it! Just stop!" he grits his teeth. When he releases his grip the first thing you do is make a run for it. But before you could even set foot out of the restroom you're pulled back by the hair. You fell on your back, hitting the marble floor.  

It sends the air out of your lungs. That's when you start crying, shriveling up into a ball, begging for him to stop. This was how your arguments always ended. Tom crouches down, "Oh...baby I'm so sorry..." He grabs a towel, pushing it against the bottom of the door to ensure that it's soundproofed. He then pulls you into a hug, locking his arms around your waist. Tom rocks you in his embrace, "Please...please don't cry shh.." He doesn't want to see anymore tears spill. He's thankful for the music being loud enough to muffle your cries. He lifted you onto the counter.  

You look down at the floor, refusing to look him in the eyes. Tom presses his forehead against yours. His eyelids flutter shut, "Let me make this right..." he reaches into his pocket, pulling out a small bag, "Here... this'll help with the nerves," he swipes his fingers on his tongue before dipping it in. He swirls it a few times, coating the digits with the white powder.

When he brings it to your mouth you turn away with disgust, smacking his hand off, "Get it the fuck away from me! You fucking tweaker!" you claw at him. He's hurt by your words. How could you? He really is trying to stop. It's harder than it looks. He's tried just about anything you could name to fix his marriage. Nothing, not a damn thing worked. Every time he'd come running back to that same euphoric feeling. When you left, he started using it again, more than ever.  

If only he could get you to try it out, then maybe, you'd understand. He presses you against the counter, using his bodyweight to hold you in place. You sob, "Please...please Tommy...don't do this..." he grips both of your wrists, ignoring your pleas. He looks at you with a maddening look in his eyes. You knew he was out of it. There was always that nothingness behind his irises. To think that this man was once your devoted husband.  

He muffles your cries with a clean hand. He has an idea for the other. Tom hisses, “M’gonna make you take it, make you feel really good...” he reaches in between your legs, pushing aside the lace. Tom brings the snow coated fingers to your folds. He bites his bottom lip, concentrating on finding your opening. He slowly starts to insert them, ignoring your cries and pleas for him to stop. Tom starts pumping his coated fingers in and out of your channel.

You let out a muffled scream under his palm. Stray tears falling down and landed on his wrist. He felt almost bad, but you'll understand soon enough where he's coming from. Just wait and see. You'll love it as much as he does. Fuck, every vein in his body felt like it was on fire. It's easier getting hard while using, too easy. His dick almost hurts form how hard it was. He spat a wad on the tip, coating it with a bit of snow before hovering it over your folds. He presses it against your opening.

A wide grin spreads on his face, "Sh...please...don't flinch sweetheart I just wanted to feel... can I feel my own wife's pussy?" He moans. A mewl escapes your lips. Tom chuckles, he knew you'd love it as much as he does. His hands grip your neck, he doesn't know how strong he's squeezing, not while he's using. It felt nice feeling you clench on his length. He’s on an adrenaline high right now. He’s not going to stop anytime soon.

He rapidly thrusts his hips in and out your channel, indulging in the feeling. Two of his most favorite things combined. Oh, how he’s missed you. Tom picks up his pace. He leans down to plant wet, sloppy kisses across your bare neck. He retreats his lips, groaning against your ear, “I promise you I'll make up for everything, I'll even give you a baby like you've always wanted...” He knows it’s the one thing you’ve always wanted to be. A mother.  

Your eyes shoot wide open as you scream into his palm to stop. Tom pops a pill in his mouth. He swishes it around a few times before forcing your mouth to open. He removes his palm only for a moment, before shoving it inside. It's too much, too much...You felt like you were flying, no, falling? Your heart couldn't stop beating and every single last one of your limbs felt like jelly. A visible vein bulges on the corner of your temple. Only a faint gargle leaves your lips, "F-fuck...T-tom...please..” sniffling for him to stop.

He coos, “M'gonna give you a baby, ok? then we'll be a happy family..." He sighs in admiration. Fuck, you looked so beautiful. Always so compliant. Don’t worry, he’s going to make sure you’ll never get rid of him, “This was mine the day I put that ring on that finger..." He finishes with a roar, coating your insides with his spunk. Tom is almost satisfied, almost. He doesn’t want to waste a single drop. He carefully removes his cock from your channel, plugging you back up with his fingers.  

Tom takes the small baggie. He coats it with your arousal. A deep moan escapes his lips, "Just hide it for me, yeah, can you do that love?" Two of his fingers are buried deep into your channel, he scissors them apart a few times, testing the waters. Then he starts to push it in. You were too buzzed to even fight him off.

His fingers have always caressed that spot you just couldn't quite reach. Tom sighs, “Beautiful...fucking beautiful...” words that he hasn't used in years. Tom throws his coat on the floor. He carefully places you on it, taking no note of the blank expression on your face. He hadn’t noticed your eyes rolling back. He pressed his head against the door to hear if anyone was lurking. If the coast was clear, he could leave.

He places a chaste kiss on your cheek before leaving, placing a tie on the doorknob to ensure no one would wander inside. Tom prepares his car for the both of you. If you were thinking of escaping him, think again. He would keep you hidden until you were surely pregnant. You’ll have a part of him with you forever. He returns to the house with a pep in his step, opening the door to find you still lying on the ground.

That’s when Tom finally notices the faint frothing on the corners of your mouth. He crouches down, “No...” he should’ve seen this coming. You weren’t used to any kind of drug. You’ve never smoked a day in your life. Tom pulls you into his arms, “No no no no...no please...” he shook your unconscious form, “Please! Stay with me!” he shook harder, “Please! Fuck!” Finally breaking down. Tom couldn’t imagine spending the rest of his life without you. For it to actually come true was his biggest nightmare, “Please! Don’t leave me!” He rocks both of you back and forth.

Tom tries his best to control his breathing, reaching into his pocket. He calls the one person he knows would help, "Lenn...I'm in deep shit," he chokes. Tom prays that his brother can make it on time. For years now, Lenny had been the one covering up for his little brother. He could hear Tom on the other end of the phone, “She--she’s not waking up...” That’s when Lenny races out his office in search of his twin, "Tom, listen to me, where are you?"

Whatever shit his little brother has gotten into this time, he better hope it doesn’t ruin his record. Lenny hadn't spent years in law enforcement just to lose it all in one day. If word got out that the local detective’s own brother was a tweaker, he’d have to kiss that promotion goodbye. However, Lenny isn’t going to let him get away so easily. Unlike Tom, his brother is colder, more calculated than emotional. He's always surpassed him in every way possible. Well, almost. Lenny hates to admit it, but Tom had the one thing he finally beat him at, you.  

You were the color added to his life. Without you his world was just...black and white.

#tom the party #Tom (the party 2017) #tom the party 2017 #Tom the Party movie #the party 2017 #Tom (the party) x reader #reader #reader insert #dark!fanfic #dark!fic #dark fanfiction #dark fanfic #fem!reader #dark!fanfiction #dark fic #my work #my works

[feasibilities]

Sight and Smell - Tom x Married!Reader (NSFW)

Synopsis: Tom has feelings for you and won't let anyone stop him from telling you how he feels. Warnings: Drug Use, Infidelity, Allusions to Cuckolding, Sex as Punishment, Choking, Pining, etc. Author's Note: Readers need love too! I did some research on luxury hotels in Dublin as well (because I want a late-night rendezvous with Cillian in one of them). Also, thank you @mothhball for tagging me in the prompt that spawned this insane story. I hope you enjoy it!

The sight of your beautiful smile and the smell of your redolent perfume were mainstays of Tom’s psyche. He knew your husband, Seán, since they were kids. You came along during secondary school. He knew it was wrong to lust for any woman who wasn’t Marianne, but you were different. For the first time, he felt a deep-seated jealousy toward his friend. Knocking on the front door, Tom was finally prepared to tell you how he really felt. This party would go down in history. 

“Hey, Tom. Seán will be here soon. Won’t you come in?” You smiled sweetly. You noticed that he looked disheveled and restless. 

“Of course.” Tom replied. While you led him to the kitchen, he admired how your black dress hugged your figure. He hated that Seán got to see the treasures that lie underneath. 

“Where’s Marianne?” You inquired, going back to cleaning the champagne flutes. 

“U-um, she wasn’t feeling well so she stayed back.” Tom faltered, taking quick peeks at your cleavage. 

“Ah. Well, I hope she feels better soon. How have you been?” You asked.

“Fine.” Tom answered plainly

Walking toward him, you placed the back of your hand on his forehead. 

“Are you feeling okay, hun?” You asked innocently. 

Taking your hand away, Tom hurried to the bathroom and slammed the door shut. You heard him lock it shut shortly after. You stood there stunned before continuing to prepare for the party. 

After separating the thin white powder into lines, he gummed what was left over on his fingers. Snorting each line was like a hard reset for his body. His heart felt like it was clawing its way out of his chest. Collapsing near the bathroom sink, he trembled and cursed himself. He sat himself up in a corner and breathed deeply. The palpitations of his heart subsided. 

Hearing offbeat jazz come from the living area, Tom jumped up and gathered himself. He had to get this out of his system before guests arrived. It was now or never. 

“I need to talk to you.” Tom blurted out, watching you arrange hors d'oeuvres on multiple platters. 

“Fucking hell, Tom. You scared me half to death.” You jumped. 

“Listen, it’s very important-“ Tom started.

“Can it wait until after the party, hun?” You corrected.

“It can’t.” Tom said, growing irritated by the second. 

“Fine. What is it?” You said, exasperated. 

“I have loved you since I met you all those years ago. I think about you all the time. I hate that Seán got to you first.” Tom confessed, staring into your eyes. 

You stayed silent and stared back at him. You felt a mix of panic and curiosity. Seán would kill Tom with his bare hands if he heard this conversation. Tom’s advances made sense—especially since you felt the same way. You loved your husband with all of your heart, but you can’t say you never thought about leaving. He was away for work way too much. When he was here, he wasn’t present emotionally. Intimacy was poorer than it had ever been. You yearned for something different—rather, something electrifying. Tom was the closest you could get.

“We can’t do it here, Tom. I can meet you in a hotel after the party. Now, take these platters into the dining room. Be careful to not let anything fall.” You ordered. 

Tom’s eyes widened at your proposal. You’ve never seen him move so fast in the time that you knew him. Guests, including Seán, began to arrive. He kissed you deeply and gave you an embarrassingly hard smack on your ass. It felt like he was putting on the show of a happy couple in front of everyone. Tom was left to brood angrily as you gave him sympathetic glances throughout the party. Shortly after everyone’s departure, you got a text from Tom about your impending rendezvous.

Room 427 at The Westbury. Hope you’re still up for the challenge. 

“Challenge?” You murmured as you applied your makeup at your vanity.

“Where are you headed, love?” Seàn slurred, toying with your hair. He was too drunk to notice you flipping your phone over. 

“Out with friends. I’ll be back late.” You replied. 

“You know, I want to spend more time with you. I miss you.” He said, kissing your shoulder and starting to untie your house robe. This was another empty promise. You politely moved his hands and went back to finishing your makeup. 

“We can spend time together when I get back, Seán. I need some time to myself, ’s all.” You said. Finally getting the message, he stumbled to the bed and fell asleep.

— 

“Fuck, right there…” You moaned as Tom thrusted into you at steady pace. You raked your nails down his back—marking your territory for the time being. He stared down at you with the same admiration earlier. He loved the way your breasts moved with each thrust. He loved the resplendent noises you made when he bottomed out. You clenched around him as your legs began to shake.  Your eyes fluttered shut before you felt his hand grab your throat. He squeezed enough to limit your blood flow. You were lightheaded, but still conscious.

“Open your fucking eyes. This is what you wanted, right?” Tom hissed, speeding up his movements. This time was much more brutal.

“Yes.” You whimpered, feeling like you were about to break in half. 

Tom kissed you harshly and watched as you fell apart. Unintelligible praises came from you as he pounded you into the plush mattress. Your walls spasmed frenetically as you came. He wanted to make sure that you thought of him every time you fucked Seán. To his own perverse wish, this was payback for not choosing the better man.  Flipping you on your stomach, Tom yanked your hips backward and started taking you from behind. He put a pillow underneath you to soften the blows, but to no avail. He was reaching depths that your husband dreamed of. You weeped quietly and 

“Would be fucking sick if Seán came in and saw me nailing his wife, eh?” Tom teased, panting in your ear. A cruel part of you got off on the thought of him listening in on you two. Maybe he would give you the attention you deserve. A faint “Mhmm” emitted from you in response. 

“Cum inside me.” You cooed, looking back at him with heavy eyes. You bit your lip and clenched around him once more. His thrusts staggered as he came with a loud groan. You sung his praises as he came down from his high. Pulling out, he saw his seed beginning to spill out of you. He caught some with his fingers and pushed it back inside.  He pumped himself mindlessly before laying next to you. His stark blue eyes studied your features. He traced his fingertips along your back. You looked back at him lovingly before drifting off to sleep. 

Grabbing your lace underwear from the floor, Tom huffed them desperately. Similar to cocaine, he felt a sense of euphoria. He took in the sweet, earthy scent as he grew hard again. He didn't want to disturb you, so he walked to the bathroom and turned on the shower. He finally got what he wanted. 

#tom #the party #cillian murphy #tom x reader #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy fanfiction #fanfiction #love #marriage #my writing #2017

[fuckmycrane]

He will never change — Tom

— CW: 18+!, smut. Drug use (cocaine), smut, (kind of) angst. | word count: 1.3k

— a/n: I noticed I haven't found ANYTHING Tom related and I honestly find that a crime. Only Tom can look fucking hot snorting cocaine and having a breakdown in a bathroom. I do not condone the use of drugs so, don't do it ;).

“Tom are you okay— for fucks sake—” You gasp closing the bathroom door behind you, frowning when you see your husband kneeling next to the bathtub, wiping his nose repeatedly.

“Why can’t you fucking knock the door?” He asks, not bothering to cover his fix.

Locking the door with a flick of your wrist, you step closer to him, heels clicking on the white linoleum. It’s draining to see him decaying like this, even if he constantly promises to stop— both of you he won’t. Hand on your hips, you stare at him from above with a disapproving look.

“Why? So you can hide your cocaine pity party?”

He stands up, towering in front of you. His pupils are blown, the blue of his eyes barely noticeable, you see his eyebrow twitching, as he keeps sniffing. It’s too early to deal with this. Rolling your eyes, you turn around to leave the lavatory, not in the mood to face him while he is in his high— but it appears to be that Tom has other plans.

“Where do you think you are going?” He wraps a shaky hand around your arm, yanking you towards him, and swirls you to press his chest against your back. “You can’t leave”

“Let go of me” You struggle, facing the small mirror cabinet on the wall. His free hand grasps your jaw, forcing you to meet your reflection. Calling his name again he tightens his grip. His arm circles your waist, as his hot breath tickles your neck.

“You are so beautiful” He whispers, squeezing your waist. His touch is uncontrolled, especially when he is under the influence. His body feels like a furnace behind you and you don’t have to be a genius to understand what direction he is going in.

Normally you would have pushed him away, blundered, and lost versus the mad strength that cocaine provides him with until he bends you over and forces you to submit under him; the power exchange sends a shiver down your spine, both eager to give in to his sudden lustful desires and to jab him with your elbow, cut his advances and call for a taxi to leave this place. It is not unusual to deal with Tom when he consumes, but every time it’s a bit more draining until it comes to a point where you consider divorcing him—  You start to wonder if it's worth it to stay with him. You could try to talk to him about his behavior, but he doesn't seem to listen. You feel exhausted and overwhelmed, the concern and hesitation readable in your expression.

“I love this dress on you” He continues, unaware of the turmoil inside your head. Tom’s hands let go of you, reaching for the thin straps of your black cocktail dress, sliding them down your shoulders. His warm lips kiss the side of your neck, smirking when you move slightly to give him more access, it is an instinctive reaction. “Good— good” Your husband breathes out, cupping your breasts and giggling them softly. “You are so sexy—” His teeth nibble your earlobe, forcing a quiet sigh from your part.

His erection pokes your ass, and you can’t help to grind on it, making him shiver and pant your name. It’s obvious this man loves you— but it is frustrating to feel he loves his drugs even more.

It’s easier to be oblivious, to close your eyes, and finally give in before the guilt can engulf you; Stumbling closer to the sink, your hands lay on either side of the porcelain fixture, feeling his hands leave your chest to ride up your dress. His index finger quickly finds your clit, circling it with practiced ease, continuously rubbing his hard cock behind you. His lips brush against your ear, his voice a low whisper that sends shivers of pleasure down your spine. You close your eyes, giving in to the pleasure, and let the moment consume you. Tom struggles to unbuckle his belt with one hand, lowering his trousers just enough to free his length and yank his underwear down. 

“You have no idea how much I love you” Tom is painfully aware of how ridiculous the situation is, but he is not willing to stop. In fact, he hooks his fingers in the elastic of your panties and yanks them down, letting them stretch at your ankles. Wrapping a hand around the base of his cock he prods your entrance with the tip, gasping in a husky voice when he slowly pushes in.

“Tom—” You moan, a bead of sweat rolling down your cheek. 

He stops, his hands leaving you for a painful moment. The lack of touch hits you with a mixture of frustration and anticipation, looking over your shoulder to find your husband kneeling next to the bathtub once again and unashamedly snorting another line with his cock out. Squeezing the sink with such force that your fingers go numb, you feel a wave of fury crash through you. He will never change.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You growl, glaring at him. He simply smiles at you, as if he found the situation amusing. Reaching for your underwear you finally made up your mind— to walk out, leave, call a cab, call your lawyer tomorrow morning, start the divorce process—

But he is quicker. Tom forces you back on the sink, overpowering you and yanking your hair to keep you in place. There’s a faint white spot smeared under his nose, one that you see from the mirror reflection. With a whine, you protest against his rough handling, squeezing your eyes shut and listening to him spit on his palm to smear it over his cock. Pushing your underwear down once again, Tom smirks at the sight of your wet entrance and presses his thumb over your hip. He pushes inside you in one swift movement. Your body betrays you, moaning in appreciation at the known sting of his cock spreading your warm insides. His breath grows ragged, thanks to your sinful walls clenching around him and the cocaine. His hips pull back and forth again, taking what he wants, not really caring for your needs and thoughts. 

Tom’s pace increases, clasping a hand over your mouth to keep your noises down— you are still in the bathroom and the walls are pretty thin; his thrusts becoming deeper and harder that you completely forget you were furious at him. 

“Pretty, pretty, pretty” He moans in appreciation, rutting into you like a madman. Your legs shake, barely holding up with his movements. “You will never leave me, I will never leave you” It sounds like a promise, but not the sweet one he did at your wedding, holding hands, back when things were easier— it almost sounds like a threat.

His name falls from your lips like a melody, muffled by his hand and spurring his hips. Sneaking his hand in between your thighs, the position is clumsy but he manages to find your clit again, torturing the swollen nub with his rough fingerpad and choking a moan as your pussy convulses around him. 

Shuddering with pleasure, your eyes roll back. Your climax is so close, moving his hips to meet his thrusts in a desperate attempt for more. Tom notices this, already having memorized your body like the back of his hand. He isn’t far, and when you finally reach your orgasm and crumble underneath him, he bites his tongue so hard it nearly draws blood. 

The hot sensation of his cum flooding your insides earns him a weak mewl, slowing his hips until he can’t handle the overstimulation. It’s too much, it’s terrible. The aftermath is messy and welcomes you with that dreaded feeling. You can’t continue with this. Your eyes swell up with tears of regret, cursing yourself for always falling back to the endless loop of fights and reconciliation sex. Tom pulls out with a tired sigh, watching how his release slides down your spent hole only to push it back inside with his fingers. 

Your tears fall to the sink, sobbing silently at the broken marriage you can’t seem to get out of when you hear him snort again, which causes you to sob louder.

He will never change. 

#— ✏️ anya writes! #— 🕯️ Tom (The Party 2017) #tom (the party 2017) #the party 2017 #tom x reader smut #tom x reader #tom Cillian murphy #cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut #cillian x reader

[cloveswifey]

Jacket

Mattheo riddle x Fem!Reader

Fluff

Pansy had been persistently asking me all week to join her at the Slytherin party today, and I finally gave in and decided to go.

I'm not really one for parties, but what harm could one party do? Especially since it was a celebration of our victory in the quidditch match between Slytherin and Ravenclaw.

I started getting ready, with Pansy next to me, curling her brown locks.

"Should I go for the red dress or the green one?" I asked, holding up each dress for Pansy to see.

"Oh, definitely the green one," she replied.

I swiftly changed into the short green dress and applied some light makeup to my face. "Let's go," Pansy exclaimed with excitement as we descended the stairs into the Slytherin common room.

The party was already in full swing. Red solo cups overflowed with drinks, and the students swayed to music booming from a single Bluetooth speaker.

"So, what should we do first?" I asked, flashing a gentle smile.

"Drinks, obviously," Pansy replied matter-of-factly. We made our way over to the table adorned with various glasses, filled with alcoholic concoctions.

I approached the table and generously poured myself some Malibu into my cup. I quickly drank half of it before refilling it again.

"I think we should go dance," I enthusiastically proposed to my companion.

We both made our way towards the dance floor, and as soon as I joined the group, I could feel their contagious energy. I let myself go, dancing and enjoying the music, occasionally taking sips from my cup. I danced with strangers, letting loose and feeling the electrifying atmosphere.

After a few songs, I decided to step out of the group to refill my cup. That's when I noticed someone staring at me.

Mattheo Riddle.

I noticed the intensity of his gaze as I made my way to the table, refilled my drink, and continued dancing. It felt as if his eyes were exploring every contour of my body, studying the way I moved to the rhythm of the music.

He observed every accidental touch from others and his gaze pierced through anyone who boldly grabbed my waist to dance with me.

Curiosity sparked within me as I saw him approach the couch where our friends were previously seated before joining us on the dance floor.

I approached him, standing tall above him as he sat on the blanket. "Are you done eye-fucking me?" I snapped.

"Well, not exactly.” He chuckled, “I was rather enjoying myself," he responded with a smirk, taking a sip from his cup.

I sat down next to him, feeling the effects of the alcohol I had consumed. "You're disgusting, Mattheo."

"Don’t deny it sweetheart, you know you like it when I speak to you that way," he remarked.

I rolled my eyes and shivered as the air conditioning turned on. It's funny how, even at a party which would usually reak of sweat and sex; magic can be used to regulate the temperature and prevent things from getting too hot and sweaty.

"Are you shivering because you're nervous around me, or are you just cold?" Mattheo smirked.

"I'm cold, you dipshit," I sneered.

Suddenly, I felt warm fabric being draped over my shoulders. I glanced over my shoulder, glare still in place, to see Mattheo holding his green jacket, offering it to me.

"What's with the face? I'm just trying to keep you warm," he argued.

"Stop hitting on me," I snapped back.

"Why?" he questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"You know why. I'm Enzo's little sister, which means I'm off-limits. Besides, I don't even like you," I chuckled.

"Whatever, just take the goddamn jacket before you catch a cold or something," he ordered.

I slipped my arms through the jacket, taking in the scent of expensive cologne and savoring the warmth. "Thanks," I mumbled.

"You look attractive in my clothes," he smirked, to which I responded by playfully smacking him on the arm.

"Ugh, I can't stand you," I mumbled, attempting to hide my smile.

"Oh, you don't actually hate me," he chuckled once again.

Despite knowing that he's off-limits and that I should despise him, I couldn't help but feel drawn to him. Maybe it was the influence of alcohol, but without thinking, I reached out and firmly grasped his face. Our lips collided.

The kiss shared between us is filled with sweetness and passion, as if we had both been longing for this moment for an eternity.

I can feel his hands finding their way to my waist, while I securely wrap mine behind his neck.

In an instant, I swing my leg over and settle into his lap, straddling him.

Eventually, we part our lips, both of us gasping for air, as our foreheads press together.

"I always knew you had feelings for me," he playfully teases.

I can't help but giggle, resting my head on his shoulder.

"Pansy, come on!" Enzo's voice suddenly interrupts, calling out for me.

"Shit," I quickly jumped off Rafe and nonchalantly positioned myself to the side of him. Pansy and Enzo were approaching us.

"Guys, we're ready to go," Pansy groaned.

"Yeah, okay," I stumbled over my words, still feeling a bit shaken from earlier.

Mattheo and I both stood up from the couch, eager to make our way back to the dorms.

As we walked, I grabbed Mattheo's arm, allowing Pansy and Enzo to move ahead of us. I began to take off his jacket when he stopped me.

"Keep it. It looks better on you," he whispered.

A smile crept onto my face as I playfully responded, "You're such a dork."

"Come to my dorm tonight, Dracos staying with Astoria," he suggested.

"All right," I replied, returning a peck on his lips before darting ahead to catch up with Enzo and Pansy. As I did, a thought crossed my mind: What exactly am I getting myself into?

#cloveswifey #mattheo x you #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo x y/n #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x you #mattheoxreader #Mattheo riddle. #Harry Potter #Slytherin #Slytherin party #pansy parkinson #draco malfoy #Tom riddle #enzo birkshire #harry potter imagine #Slytherin imagine #one shot #romance #love #party #sarah cameron #jj maybank #outerbanks #rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #obx #outer banks imagine #sarah cameron imagine

[tomssexdoll]

hi baba gril

so we are like tom's gf and he takes us out for a night of clubbing and we get a lil too drunk, and he has to take us home, and take care of us

hmu if more deets are needed 🤯

YESSSSSS BBY GIRL ILYSM

Never listen to me

PAIRINGS: Tom 2012 x Female reader CONTENT: FLUFF SYPNOSIS: Tom takes y/n out for a night of clubbing but she gets way too drunk and he has to take her home, despite her refusals, and take care of her. A/N: ily alaiah WARNINGS: drinking, being drunk, vomiting

Tom groaned, "are you ready yet? it's been like an hour how do you take SO long" he came up behind me, kissing my head softly and wrapping his arms around my waist.

"Just wait liebe, girls take longer to get dressed, all you have to do is put an outfit on and you're done" I groaned, rolling my eyes. "Fineee" he crossed his arms and pouted like a child, "stop acting like a child Tom you can wait a bit longer" I chuckled, he smirked back "whatever."

As I finished getting ready Tom let out a sigh of relief, grabbing my hand and leading me to the car. We drove to the club and once we got there, stared at all the drunken bodies out the front either fighting or kissing. "Oh god.." I fake gagged, he chuckled and we got out of the car, entering the club.

The booming music was just what I needed, I held onto Toms hand as we got to the bar, I ordered 5 rounds of shots of tequila for myself, Tom looking at me worried "are you sure you'll be able to handle ALL of that? You know how strong the tequila in this club is.." he placed a hand on my thigh, rubbing the skin softly. "Yeah yeah, I'll be fine, it's just tequila what could go wrong?"

After 2 hours and 7 shots, 4 cocktails and 1 beer I was hammered, I was so drunk that my vision was super blurry, I could barely even walk. I had lost Tom an hour ago and was just ordering drinks and dancing on the dance floor, having the time of my life.

I was dancing when I stumbled and fell on the floor, groaning as I hit my head "fuckk..." rubbing the wound slightly. I tried to get up but it miserably failed, leaving me on the floor once again. I looked up, everyone was dancing, their sweaty, horny bodies pressed up against one another, the song blasting at severley high volumes. I covered my ears, the music piercing my ears. "Why is it so fucking loud.." I said to myself.

"Oh my god Y/N!" I heard in the distance, I saw Toms panicked face, rushing over to me and picking me up from the floor, brushing the hair from my face. "Where the hell were you?! I was looking for you for ages!" he panted, relief washing over his eyes.

"I don't knowww..been partying.." I slurred my words and he groaned softly, "cmon we're going home, you're way to drunk to be here" he grabbed my arm but I pulled away, "nooo!" I whined. He rubbed his temples in frustration "verdammte hölle" he muttered under his breath.

"Cmon, I said we're going home" he again pulled on my arm to no avail. "Alright, you give me no choice then" he grabbed me by my waist and slung me over his shoulder, making me unable to fight back physically, all I could do is use my words. "Tom nooo! I'm having fun!" I cried out, kicking my legs against his chest.

He stopped me with a harsh smack to my ass "I said we are going home, I'm not going to repeat myself" he said sternly. "Fine.." I sighed dramatically.

As we got home he carried me in, plopping me onto the bed "wanna go clubbing so bad...you ruined it..." I groaned, tossing and turning on the bed. "Too bad, you should've drunk less" he sighed, sitting me up.

I felt something come up my throat, a weird pressure, realising it was vomit, before it could reach my mouth I blurted out "gonna throw up!" Toms eyes widened and he ran to the bathroom, getting a bucket and holding it under my mouth.

I let go of my mouth and threw up in the bucket. It went on for 10 minutes straight, non stop vomit. I coughed a bit as it stopped, Tom picking me up and bringing me to the bathroom to wash my mouth out.

"You never listen to what I say hm?" he chuckled, kissing the top of my head. He grabbed a hair tie and brushed my hair slowly, pulling it into a ponytail, away from my face.

I started to sob uncontrollably "im so sorry Tom.." clinging onto his arm and nuzzling my face into his neck. "For what honey?" he smirked, "not listening..im sorry" I continued to sob, him kissing me softly to ease my worries "it's fine baby, I know you waned to have fun and I guess you did" he chuckled, pulling me into his lap and rubbing my back gently. "Shh..stop crying baby it's ok.." he whispered in my ear, my tears staining his t shirt.

Eventually my cries came to an end, I stayed on his lap, holding onto him tightly "so warm and cuddly.." I muttered out, my eyes half shut.

He laughed softly, "cmon baby let's get you into bed, you need some sleep" I whined "noo..wanna stay with you.." he smiled "you will be with me, I'll be right beside you ok?" he stroked my hair lovingly, I nodded and got into bed, Tom following behind me as promised, holding me close.

"Goodnight prinzessin, I love you so much" he kissed my neck softly, stroking my hair to help me fall asleep.

#tom kaulitz #tokiohotel #bill kaulitz #georg listing #gustav schäfer #drunk #drunk reader #caring #relationships #clubbing #night out #club #nightclub #party #drinks #alcohol #dancing #tom kaulitz x reader #tom kaulitz x you #tom kaulitz x y/n

[rosiemarieyn]

𐙚 - ⊱♰ 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 !!♰ ⊰ +taglist

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

Thomas Shelby

Pretty White Dress (angst)

𐙚 Thomas meets a foreign beauty while trying to get over his former wifes’ death.

Secret (darkfic, fluff & angst) !spy reader! !mentions of death, murder!

𐙚 Being a spy sent to kill Thomas Shelby didn’t go well…but in the end you are happy.

First Love (fluff & drabble)

𐙚 Loving someone you’re not supposed to might not go as bad as they say.

Evening Party (fluff)

𐙚 Meeting the blue eyed stranger who makes your heart flutter.

Silence (darkfic & angst)

𐙚 He only cared about himself, leaving you to rot away.

Lying Love (angst & lovers to strangers) !young&old tommy and reader!

𐙚 You need his sinful love to surround you while you slowly crumble into pieces.

Locket (angst, fluff & friends to strangers)

𐙚 This is what makes us girls, loving people you shouldn’t.

Jonathan Crane

Favour ||pt. 1|| (darkfic)

𐙚 Your annoying boss decides firing you, or you could do him a favour and keep your job.

Tom (the party)

Addiction (angst, infidelity & drabble) !substance abuse!

𐙚 You watched your husband become a different man for his own good, while leaving his past on you forever.

Robert Fischer

I Don't Like You, I Love You (angst, fluff & friends to enemies to lovers)

𐙚 Robert Fischer, who was once your childhood best friend, becomes an enemy because of you guys' parents. Ten years later, both your parents decide it would be for the best for both of you to marry and save the broken bridge between both your family.

Neil Lewis

Stranger In A Band (fluff) !male reader!

𐙚 Someone being in a band AND being into movies? Was Neil in heaven?

J Robert Oppenheimer

Robert Capa

Lenny Miller

Warehouse (enemies to lovers & fluff) !spy reader!

𐙚 Sneaking in went wrong, now you have to face him.

Jackson Rippner

Past Mistakes Catching Up (darkfic) !murder threats!

𐙚 You can’t escape him, even if you tried.

Tom Buckley

Raymond Leon

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

𐙚 interact to be in the taglist !!

#cillian murphy #masterlist #cillian murphy imagine #neil lewis #jonathan crane #j robert oppenheimer #thomas shelby #robert capa #robert fischer #tom the party #lenny miller #jackson rippner #tom buckley #raymond leon #neil lewis x reader #jonathan crane x reader #oppenheimer x reader #thomas shelby x reader #robert capa x reader #robert fischer x reader #lenny miller x reader #jackson rippner x reader #tom buckley x reader #raymond leon x reader #taglist

[lya-dustin]

Grab your knives and togas and join me on this Tumblr Holiday where we celebrate the murder of Julius Caeser.

a multifandom event since this is a multifandom blog*

OCs are welcome, encouraged even.

🥖send a prompt for a fic or moodboard where the only requirements are: must have a murder, a knife, and/or a party

🍷 write a fic or make a moodboard with the same requirements from the list above

🫒 let's play Caption This! Send a gif or picture of a character(ocs welcome if you have a face claim or drawing of them) And I'll supply the caption. You can also send the caption and i will find the gif or picture

🗡 the Gladiator Arena: send me a poll and the participants and let's see who wins the fight

*(fandoms allowed into the party:asoiaf/got/hotd, magnificent century, the ewanverse and the last kingdom, will make an exception for Tolkien)

#aemma velaryon #aemond targaryen x velaryon!oc #ewan mitchell #ewanverse #osferth x oc #osferth x reader #michael gavey #aemond targaryen x reader #hotd fanfiction #magnificent century au fanfics #tom bennett x ofc #tom bennett x reader #juli's ides of march party

[im-stupidcupid]

Filmzeditsss on tiktok

#cillian is so fucking hottt #cillian daddy #cillian murphy blurb #cillian murphy daddy #cillian murphy #cillian murphy fanfiction #tom (the party) #the party #tom (the party) x reader #cillian x reader #cillian murphy imagine #sex and drugs #cnc drugging #drug addikt #tw drugs #drugblr #girlblog #this is a girlblog #girlblog aesthetic #tumblr #tumblr girls

[valmare]

AAAAAAAAHHHHHHH

Mare, I’m so happy for you—finally, you reached 300 followers!!!

Congratulations!!!!

🩷🍾 🩷

How about a fluffy, fluffy story of the night before the wedding with Ice?

I’d love to read your take on this!!

Not going to lie, I had so much trouble with this one. After restarting it and restarting it one more time, I love how it turned out. Enjoy, babe!

But You Love Me

Long shadows dance across the hardwood of the foyer, soft yellow light strobing in through the panes of a full-glass door. The porch light hanging overhead is almost dejected, looking sad and alone as you pull the door open. A rush of breeze off the ocean is nearly dizzying, tunneling into the space like your home is the last stop on a long line of destinations for the night. 

Sliding through the door on your socked feet, the wood of the porch thunks a little as you hurry down the front steps to the drive, seeking the sedan parked in front of the garage space. Less than perfect, you’d barely had time to hit the brake before you’d flown out of the passenger seat, arms full of whatever last minute details the wedding coordinator had thrown at you before leaving the bar. 

How there could be so many things that need your attention you don’t understand—you’ve been planning this wedding for months. There couldn’t be much left you hadn’t touched. Certainly not everyone in the history of getting married made such a big fuss over these things—right? Maybe. People are fickle, especially about weddings. Your mother had been dieting on goldfish crackers and salad for nearly three weeks, now. 

Marge, your obsessive wedding planner, had suggested a juice cleanse for you, to really make your skin shine. Your skin didn’t shine. It never had. And some half-baked diet recommendation form your wedding coordinator wouldn’t cure what twenty-something years had already written in your fine, Viking genetics. 

Looking at her sideways, you’d added that the only juice cleanse you could even begin to fathom involved orange juice and copious amounts of vodka. While you’d snorted into your whiskey sour, and your fiance had all but glared at the backhanded comment. Marge had not found it nearly as funny as you did. 

You’d been shit-grinning like the rebellious little goblin you were, sitting at the bar where she had tracked you down like she was Indiana Jones on the mission of Time’s Lost Wedding or something equally ridiculous. Trying not to titter as she’d simply rolled her eyes and marched out of the O Club to “make calls” (an ambiguously, ever-present reality) you’d nearly choked on the whiskey sour. With the amount of calls she handled, you’d thought she was managing the presidential motorcade. 

“You should take it easy on her,” the gentle little nudge at your elbow matched the amused chortle lingering over your ear as your fiance knuckled his glass across the lacquered counter, gesturing to the barkeep for another with a singular, pointed nod. 

Swiveling to face him on the barstool, your elbow knocked his lightly. The bar is bursting at the seams like always; there’s barely room to take five steps without brushing up against a stranger or a familiar face. Music practically bleeds from the open wounds of an aged jukebox, throwbacks that are familiar, foot-tapping.

But It’s Friday night. Of course everyone’s here— half the Pacific Fleet knows your wedding is tomorrow. Sending the two of you off after a thrilling day of rehearsal dinners, last-minute details, a final flyby fit. Running across Fightertown trying to find last-minute shoes, because Iceman Kazansky, somehow, has managed to forget he needs dress shoes for this event. 

To say the entire bar knows is generalizing, really. Every pilot here counts down to tomorrow, more accurately, but pilots do make up a majority of the bodies milling about this place. On the wrong side of tipsy and warm and giggly, the generalization is alright with you as you drown the day’s event in whiskey sours and screwdrivers at Tom’s side. 

Gently edging to lean against his arm a little, it’s always close quarters with the two of you. His warmth brushes against your arm and sends a zing of electricity through your blood, like he never fails to. The butterflies it sent into your stomach make you beam a little. He’s never far from a touch, a greedy hand as your fingers found his bicep. Curl against the rock solid muscle just so.

Actually, Tom Kazansky has lingered by your side like a shadow the last two years—a shadow, or persnickety and stubborn cat, you haven’t really decided which imagery fits better. 

“Mmmm—spoken like a man who hasn’t been taking calls from Marge the wedding planner from hell for the last six months,” chin rested on his shoulder, he angles a little, allows his light eyes to snap to yours. The corner of his mouth lifted with an amused smirk, “She mentions one more thing about flowers and I won’t be responsible for my own actions, Tommy.” 

His hand found yours, gently slipping his thick, calloused fingers through yours. “I think you’ll survive,” then the statement had been coy. He deliberately pushed at your buttons, with damnable ease. Like always. 

It hadn’t been what you wanted to hear. He was yours. Supposed to be on your side, fighting your battles for you. With you, whatever. His smile is blade sharp when you frown at him, lazily pushing him away as you righted on your stool. 

“You’re an ass sometimes, you know that, Kazansky?” 

Hand moving to brush at some of the hair curled behind your ear, he angled to face you. Elbow on the lacquered wood, his weight leaeds into the bar as megawatt eyes skim over you, drinking in details you can’t see. His fingers are bonelessly gentle, the look on his pace then a placid mask of pleasantry that sends you keening in your seat. 

A ghost of amusement ticks up the corner of his mouth in a smug smile. “Yeah. But you love it.” Leaned in, his words had vibrated against the smooth skin behind your ear. Chased the pout right out of you, your hot blood running the best kind of cold as his mouth teased the lobe of your ear.

Shut up and quieted, you’d forgotten the bite of whiskey in the back of your mouth, only able to focus on the oak and caramel tones on his breath from his own drink. 

Hours ago and you could still smell his cologne on your skin, your clothes.

Still on the wrong side of tipsy and the day in every ounce of color spread across your face, you reach for the day planner and your purse, both abandoned in the backseat of your little car when Ice had parked it here hours ago. Kneeing the door closed, you reach for the wisp of paper peeking out of the pages, head canting to the side a little as you read the ticket booking. Plane tickets. For Sunday afternoon, your honeymoon.

The first official day you will be Ice’s wife. A Kazansky. 

The idea rips a little squeak from the back of your throat. Breath whistling when you suck it in sharply, the idea sends you up on your toes as your spine seems to simmer with the bolt of lightning that zings through bone. San Diego is crisp tonight, the rush of air off the ocean enough to dizzy you a little as you glance down at the ticket again. 

Finger playing with the dog-ear corner of the paper, you barely notice the bounce of headlights turn down your street, the low growl of an engine. The sound is familiar, not unrecognized. But, it’s only until the growl dies, the lights kill, and the creak of an opening door at the curb pulls your attention to the street.

Batting the door closed with a lazy hand, the sight of Tom stepping up onto the curb and crossing through the small patch of blitzed and fried grass in your yard buoys you a little. He’s still wearing his aviators, even though the stars are out. Even still the force of his alive eyes knocks you in the gut. Mouth shifting in an attempt to withhold a smile you know won’t last, he approaches you, spinning keys on his finger. 

Slipping shades out of place, he comes up to the back of your car, gently resting fists on the back lid. His smile is disarming, lidded eyes all but sending you into a spiral at his feet as he considers you, standing out here, in your favorite oversized sweatshirt and jean shorts. Barefooted, tipsy, with color still on your face. Blithely unaware of the time, unable to sleep. Thrill sends through you a little as you slip the dayplanner into the crook of your arm, adjust the strap of your purse over your shoulder. 

For some reason you can’t place, nervousness stirs in the stew of your belly. “Ice.” You acknowledge with a goofy little grin, head tipped to the side in exaggerated disinterest at his arrival. He’s come back to your place, for some reason or another. Which is odd. He doesn’t live here. Had dropped you off a few hours ago, kissed your forehead goodnight. 

“What brings you back to my door, aviator?” 

The question at face value is simple, though everything about your tone isn’t as the ball of your barefoot twists lightly against the pavement of your driveway. Rough concrete bites into your skin, but you don’t really care. Beads of sweat chase down your spine beneath the sweater, the ocean breeze isn’t enough to kill the heat this man rises in your blood.  

Your wedding is tomorrow. He should be sleeping, or out getting his last tastes of freedom in the delicate hours of morning with Slider and Mitchell, at the very least. Talking things over with Jack Daniels. Preparing. But Ice is always ready for anything, and a wedding isn’t the kind of thing you’d think would rattle his cage. 

Your confusion is a wild thing, blowing like a tornado in your chest, spinning down your spine as you try to think of a reason he’s here. It’s probably the booze. Honestly, you’re glad to see him—it’s good that he’s here. Obviously, the quicksilver smile on his face says so.

Dropping his keys on the lid of the sedan’s trunk, his feet lazily carve a path to you, perfect hands slipping into the back pockets of his jeans. He stops, far into your personal space, his chest nearly brushing yours as he stares down into your face. 

“Do I need a reason?” His eyes are fierce, nearly pointed as he searches yours. He has magnificent eyes. Between the two of you, whatever children you may bring into the world do not have a prayer for any kind of dark, magical eyes. Yours are icy blues on the best day, dark sapphires on the worst. But the weight of his stare? 

That’s enough to make you swallow a nervous little breath that seems to shake you all the way down. 

His words rumble through your chest, probably too much. Probing a smile from you, you peer up at him through your lashes, purposefully. God, he sets off your bells and whistles in the most welcome way, you feel every one of them bolt across your nerves when he just smiles at you. Like he is, right now, looking superior and coy. Flirty. 

“Well I’d normally say no not really,” you hum, taking a half step back from him, “but Marge? She reminded me it’s bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the wedding.” Wrinkling your nose, you tuck some of your hair behind your ear as you pop a step back, Ice matching you pace for pace, “And, since you were so ready to take her side earlier, it begs the question—-why are you here, Ice?” 

It’s not a serious question. And he knows that, the look on his face says so. Maybe he does. But suddenly the way his brow avalanches on his face and he rushes to close the distance between you, hand reaching for the front of your sweater to pull you to a short stop says that it isn’t a question he will leave unanswered. Has a meaning you may not have anticipated, could change the electricity cracking like a whip between the two of you. 

Angled back a little so that the sweatshirt material between his fingers it taut, neither of you moves. Another bead of sweat snakes down the valley of your spine, your heart begins to flutter a little more seriously behind your ribs. He takes you apart slowly, like it’s on purpose, and you wonder how long you’re just going to hang back in the air when he tugs you forward. It sends you off kilter enough that your feet tango against the concrete and into his chest, prompting a yelp. 

“Not so fast, killer.” In the time it takes to blink he crowds you up against the car. Now inches from your face, the back of your thighs kiss the warm steel of the door. The glint behind gray eyes tells you he’s prepared to answer the question, but that you may not like it.

He’s a whisper from grinning at you, you can tell by the way the muscle in his jaw ticks as his tongue shifts over his front teeth. Power move—always a power move with him. “Still on the wrong side of drunk, sweetheart?” The words are nearly chortled out. Blatantly antagonistic. 

Your brows skyrocket off your face, surprise all but written in the flush dusting your cheeks. He knows you’re still tipsy. You’ve always been a lightweight. Your only prayer for sobriety is to knock out in bed and pray there’s no hangover. Your mother will kill you if you’re hung over for the hair salon tomorrow, something you didn’t really stop to consider when Ice had asked you to come down the O Club for dinner and drinks. 

You want to ask him what he thinks. Instead, “And if I am?” 

He chuckles, amused, before he angles to press a deceptively soft kiss at the spot where your jaw meets the long line of your neck. Head canting to allow him the task, you suck in a short breath through your nose when one of Ice’s hands moves to grab you by the back of your neck, thumb gently stroking through the curls at the base of your hairline. He hasn’t moved from softly kissing the smooth skin of your neck, but you can feel in his posture he is on the hairline trigger of keeping it together.

His lips skim up your neck to behind your ear, and he hums like he’s considering his next words carefully. You can feel his smile dusting your skin, the steady thrum of his heart against your ribs as his chest brushes with yours perfectly.

“Then your answer to my next question could be interesting.” He draws back a breath to look you in the eye. 

Crowded back against your clunky little sedan, you’re nearly arched over it with him pressing into you, his other hand moving to grab the belt loops of your shorts with sure, strong fingers. Your empty hand moves to pull at his dog tags, twisting them in your first to draw him forward. He resists a little, until the chain pulls into the back of his neck, bright eyes flicking down to consider your pouty, drunk-swollen lips. All you can focus on is the sharp cut of his jaw, the way his hair is so Hollywood. 

His hand moves to gently skip down your jawline, fingertips fanning over the whisky heat in your cheeks. Nearly foaming beneath your sweatshirt, the front of his legs nudge yours, and you open yours a little, allowing him closer. There’s not a whisper of daylight between the two of you and that’s perfect, your head tipping back just a little in anticipation of a kiss that doesn’t find you. 

“Why do you want to marry me?” 

Heat explodes behind your ribs, every nerve within your body igniting with nervous fire that leaps through your core like a dragon. Spinning out, the question circles your brain like a screeching vulture, waiting for death, and the swallow you manage burns the back of your throat. Releasing his dog tags, you fall nearly slack against the sedan, sensuality that has kept you wired falling to your feet. 

It feels like a trap. Nothing on his face says it is, but it feels like it. And three whiskey sours in, you’re not sure you can read the disturbing blankness on his face anymore. Head spinning with six months—six months—of preparation, of endless decisions and stress and wanting to beat Marge’s head in with a frying pan on the line, you can’t help the small breath that escapes through your nose. 

“Wh—what?” you manage. The question has left you stupid. “W—what? Why? Ice, are you—” shaking your head a little, you push at his shoulder in an attempt to back him off. Doesn’t budge. “Why do you want to marry me?” Throwing it back in his face won’t earn you brownie points, but you’re reeling. 

Turning slightly to drop the day planner on the roof of your sedan, your arms fold over your chest. Almost in a pout, but, you try to manage a neutral expression. And he doesn’t move, his face doesn’t change. He just stands there, his expression stony but wholly unreadable, watching you as you squirm.

All too quickly you want to disappear, to move. Heat licks up at the back of your neck from beneath the hooded sweatshirt, and you’re not sure you can hold back the tears threatening to track down your face. 

Ice says nothing for a few beats. And you’re unable to fight back tears anymore. Will bludgeoned thanks to the alcohol ramping up your emotions, you cover your face with your hands and exhale roughly, your breath more than potent as it bounces back into your face from your palms. Hot tears drip to the lenses of your glasses, the heat of your hands fogging them as you rally the determination not to blubber right in Ice’s face. 

This can’t be happening. And it doesn’t feel real, not even close, until one of his hands moves to tug lightly at the hood of your sweater. “Look at me.” His other brushes your hands away from your face.

You huff and your eyes cut away, and he chuckles amusedly. “Look at me, sweetheart.” And it’s admonishing, even though the sentiment is soft. 

Ice crowds you again, his weight pushing against yours at the hips in a way that sends a pleasurable zing up your spinal cord. The sensation sounds off at the base of your neck, buzzing through your muscles and nerves at a dizzying rate. Your eyes slip back to him again, you can’t help it. He’s magnetic, you’re but a star revolving around the sun of him. And you always have been, ever since the very first time he’d slipped up beside you at the O Club, asking to buy you a drink. 

His fingers hook your chin, his smile all but a little wolfish. “Good girl.” With the pad of his thumb he gently pushes your glasses up a little on your nose, his fingers tracing down the temples until they fan behind your ear. Inexplicably his fingertips move to affectionately rub your earlobe and the stud earrings there, toying with them a bit. “Answer my question.” 

Rapid fire blinks, then, “Answer mine.” 

“Quit being a brat,” he bites, the words dominant. “I asked first.” 

He’s got you there and he knows it. Your bottom lip rolls inward a little for you to gnaw on. The question isn’t lost on you. Ice will keep you standing here all night until he gets what he wants, he’s stubborn and driven like that. Hand moving to grab the waistband of your shorts, he pops you forward until you’re flush up against him, the weight of his hand keeps you there. From falling back against the sedan. From falling away. 

Maybe the action is intentional. But your gut twists a little. Almost hanging in midair, he’s nonplussed and can stand here all day holding you forward. Like he wants you close. Swallowing a little nervously, you rally some of the courage you know will carry you down the aisle tomorrow—you hope will carry you to him, anyway. 

Lidding your eyes, you offer him the best expression of smug you can muster. “You know why I want to marry you, Ice.” 

The chuckle he releases is warningly, like you’re in trouble. The glint in his eye tells you you are.  “That’s not what I asked.” 

Huffing again, this earns him something of a smile from you. It’s more out of irritation with him than anything, but it’s a fair statement. Being a brat pulls something from him that you can’t quite put a finger on, something that sends your senses spinning. Maybe it’s the dominance. Maybe it’s the cat and mouse that sends both of your stubborn selves around and around—but whatever it is, you love the chase. You know he’ll chase you around the sun, anywhere. Forever, probably.

That’s why he’s standing in your driveway at almost two in the morning, when you have to be up in four hours to marry his ass. 

“You’re such a prick,” 

“Yeah, but you love it,” his fist tightens in the band of your shorts again, “answer me.” 

“Because I love you, you asshole,” you attempt to pull back, but he pulls you closer. Leans in to brush his lips against the pulse in your neck. Reminding you to whom you belong, even if you’re name isn’t Kazansky yet. But it always has been. You’ve always been his, even before he knew your name. He’d captured you with that first look. “You’re a good man. Tenacious and fierce, but you understand me and care about the stupid things that make me—me. You’re kind, when you’re not an asshole. Challenge me, make me feel good and stupid and lucky like I haven’t ever felt before. But mostly I’m marrying you because I can’t live without you, and don’t wanna.”

Shoving at his shoulder, attempting to try and force his hand away from where he’s conjoined you, he hums pleasurably. You tack on smartly, “Let go of me.” 

His smile grows against your skin as he presses a thick, burning kiss to the vein in your neck. You try to angle away, huffing and attempting to convey that you don’t want his mark in all of your wedding photos. And it’s futile, because he’s unmovable, and your squirming only plants him more flat-footed in place. His hand grabs you by the back of your neck and pulls you into a bruising kiss, one that leaves you breathless and skips your heart like a stone behind your ribs. 

His other hand guides your arms around his neck, catching your bottom lip between his teeth. Biting a little, he grabs your hair and pulls back until you’re craned back to stare up at him, arched forward into his chest. The corner of his mouth ticks up in a superior smile, and his tongue clicks off the inner wall of his cheek in a tsking sound.

“See, that wasn’t so hard.” 

“You’re such a prick,” you seethe. 

“But you love me.” He pulls back a little harder until your face shows it, his smile growing into a pleased one. Keening as he shuffles you back against the sedan again, Ice bends to kiss at the hollow of your throat, his tongue lathing a little at the perspiration that’s began to seep forward there. “You love me.” 

“I do, against my better judgment at the moment.” 

“And I love you, even if you are a spoiled brat.” His tongue skips up the length of your throat before he slants his mouth against your kiss-swollen lips. Releasing your hair, he instead smooths his hand over it, and wraps his thick arms around you in a tight, hard embrace. Smiling against his mouth, you break from him with a pop, and look up at him through your lashes. “You ready to get married tomorrow?” 

“Only if you are, Ice.” 

You’d like to smack the smirk off his face. And you would, if it wasn’t so pretty. Pressing a light kiss over your mouth, he takes your face between his thick hands, calluses all but delightful against your creamy skin as his thumbs breeze over the apples of your flushed cheeks. It’s a thousand degrees out here, suddenly. How it happened you don’t know. Don’t care, as long as he doesn’t let you go. 

“That’s good, sweetheart. That’s so good.” 

Taglist: @cherrycola27 @thedroneranger @mayhemmanaged @desert-fern @startrekfangirl2233 @soulmates8 @chicomonks @dakotakazansky @books-are-escapes @sarahsmi13s @cassiemitchell @lovinglyeternal @bobby-r2d2-floyd @that-one-random-writer @horseshoegirl @lavenderbradshaw @bradleybeachbabe @roosters-girl @footprintsinthesxnd @chaoticassidy @roosterisdaddy36 @callsignharper @hisredheadedgoddess28 @ohgodnotagainn @moonchild-cupcake @aviatorobsessed @kmc1989 @imp-number-3 @spicydisaster14 @thescreamingpeach @your-local-crzy-lady

#tom iceman kazansky x reader #tom kazansky #iceman kazansky #top gun #top gun 1986 #top gun imagines #valmare's 300 followers party #300 followers #300 followers celebration #val kilmer #tom iceman kazansky #blurb requests #top gun fanfic #top gun maverick fanfic #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun fanfiction #call sign meerkat #iceman top gun #answered asks #tom kazanksy x reader #iceman x reader #iceman x you

[mothhball]

drabble requests!

hello hello, I'm going on a pretty long train journey tomorrow and need a good way to pass the time

so, feel free to send in some requests and I'll write a drabble!

will write for:

Jonathan Crane

Neil Lewis

Jackson Rippner

Raymond Leon

Matthew Joy

Tom (The Party)

Robert Fischer

I might've missed some, so if you're in doubt, just ask <3

Please note that I've only properly written for Jonathan and Neil, so bear with me lol

#cillian murphy x reader #jonathan crane x reader #neil lewis x reader #jackson rippner x reader #raymond leon x reader #robert fischer x reader #matthew joy x reader #tom (the party) x reader

[aemonds-wifey]

A Stolen Kiss Over Wine

Chapter 3

Summary: you have a brief talk, but when you see each other again the chemistry is more electric than ever

{Authors Note: warnings: 18+ / / Happy Birthday Tom Glynn- Carney🎊}

“Hey.” He said as you held the phone to your ear

“Hullo.” You said sheepishly

The silence that followed was too much, you heard Tom sigh

“Look…about that…night Y/N…I “

You heart sank and you bit your tongue. Despite everything you wanted he was in a relationship…but that selfish part of you wanted him to come to his senses and show up at your door and kiss you again.

“I know…we were drunk…you have a girlfriend….” You spoke through gritted teeth.

“Yeah she’s…so…we’re good…?”

You paused “Sure…yeah..” you were not good. You wanted to tell him that you couldn’t get him out of your head, how the taste of wine on your lips was anything but s memory to you. You needed more

He exhaled and cleared his throat “Great so…we’re having a party …tomorrow night …not gonna miss my birthday are ya Y/N?”

“Of course not…great where is it at ?” You said fighting back the urge to cry.

“The bonded warehouse….on Kings Street…come for about 7ish? “

“Sure sounds good…I’ll see you then…” you said

“Great….see you then…”

“Bye….”

The call ended. You threw your phone against the cushion of the couch and paced the flat, you felt so conflicted. So nervous , should you go? Of course. And you would dress to impress.

🎊🍾

You wore your shimmering emerald green cocktail dress with black heels, your hair was down with loose curls over your shoulders .

As you entered the bonded warehouse you heard the laughs and chatter of people, the hired room had a bar and a beautiful view of the harbor, you looked around for Aegon, you spotted him. He was not alone. Zoe stood next to him, her arm locked around his.

He wore a dark blue shirt with black trousers and those brown shoes he often wore when he saw you.

You approached him slowly , putting on a brave face and smiled “Hey knobhead happy birthday” you said as you came up to him.

Zoe did not let go of him even when you hugged Aegon to say hello. She had her hand wrapped in his like a vice. The look she gave you made you feel on edge- she definitely did not like you.

“Glad you made it.” He said smiling , when he touched your back from the hug you felt your skin come alive at the contact.

You broke away briefly and handed him a gift bag, bottle shaped. You smiled at Zoe “So nice to see you again.”

“Mmm you too. I didn’t think you would be coming. Aegs told me about you and Jacob…so sorry we would have understood if you wanted to stay at home and under a duvet.”

You modified your smile to mask your instant dislike of her tone. Doing your best not to laugh at the nickname was the most difficult part.

“Wouldn’t miss my best friends birthday now would

I.” You said calmly.

Aegon smiled a little as he opened the gift bag. obviously difficult with only one hand free. A bottle of Johnnie Walker , double black…his favourite.

“Thanks Y/N…you know me so well thank you.”

Zoe remained unimpressed “Oh another bottle.” She uttered

Aegon ignored her as he hugged you again, planting a grateful kiss on your cheek- you had to fight every fiber of your being to stop kissing his lips.

“Happy Birthday again Aegon…” you said slowly.

You did not even get any time with him, she stayed attached to him like a vine on a wall , it was infuriating to no end…he was your best friend and you could not even get on moment with him? Had he told her? Does she know he spent the night at yours and she’s feeling insecure ? So many questions surely if he had confessed to kissing then you would not be standing there right now? You could not switch your brain off.

Stolen glances were all you were afforded during the party, It was crippling embarrassing to see Zoe not once leave his side. In between glances you helped yourself to a few cocktails, caught up with friends you hadn’t seen for an age…but all you wanted to do was be alone with Aegon. At one moment you both locked eyes and he wanted to speak to you, you saw him even attempt to remove Zoe’s hand from his, but was impeded by one of his friends bringing out the cake. You all gathered round the table the cake was laid on, a dark chocolate cake with fresh raspberries on top of the fudge icing. A few pastel colored candles sat on top.

You watched as he smiled humbly and looked around - as the candles on the cake sparkled brightly you saw Zoe make a public display of affection by kissing him, all you saw was awkwardness as soon as the kiss ceased he was looking at you again.

“Make a wish Aegs.” She said

You stood opposite then at the table and couldn’t help but giggle a little in mockery.

He blew the candle out with one swift blow. Noticing your giggle and shaking his head the slightest at your Jape.

“What did you wish for?” You blurted out.

Aegon and Zoe looked at you , Aegon smiled a little

“Ah can’t tell…it won’t come true right!” He chuckled

Zoe snaked her arms around his shoulders

“New guitar? New pair of shoes?” You asked

“I’m Not telling Y/N.” Aegon smiled

“No more alcohol that’s for sure.” Zoe said

“Indeed. He may end up drunk or kissing one of his friends.” You chuckled

Aegons eyes bunker but managed to reflect a calmness as Zoe looked confused at him.

He brushed it off quickly “yeah I could end up kissing James or Zak.” He laughed.

You laughed with him, but the look he shot you as he took a swig of his beer was underlined with tones of trouble brewing…the tension was unmistakable . You left the table.

🎱

You found yourself walking through the hallway of the bonded warehouse , knocking on a random door and stepping inside.

An empty snooker table and a few cardboard boxes were all that sat in the room Now. You pushed one the balls on the pool table as you took another gulp of your drink . You turned around and sat against the pool table, almost dropping your drink when you saw Aegon standing in the door way, practically smoldering.

“What was that?!” He said clicking his jaw.

“What was what? Aegs….” You asked with a small smirk

“You know what!” He said taking a step forward and closing the door, turning the lock “giggling like that…making those comments about kissing friends …Zoe isn’t stupid.”

You tilted your head “Pfft.”

He frowned “What now?”

You drank again “She may not be stupid but blind she is…”

He folded his arms and stood an inch closer to you , waiting for you to respond.

“Can’t see the way you’ve been looking at me …”

He sighed “Don’t even start Y/N.”

“Me start? You kissed me the other night !” You said

“Shhh keep your voice down…you want Zoe to come in?”

“You locked the door you idiot” you said

“Shhh. Your always too loud!” He said agitated .

“Don’t tell me to shush …you can’t just kiss me like you did and leave me thinking what’s going on in your head and more import-“

You were silenced by the crashing of his lips on yours, his hands clasping your face as he kissed you fiercely. His body firmly pressing against yours. You fingers firmly holding onto the wooden frame of the pool table as he kept kissing you, your other hand wrapped around his neck as you felt his tongue explore your mouthF you opened your mouth to allow him in and moaned in ecstasy.

In a moment his hands found their way to your thighs and you gasped as he hoisted you up on the table, your legs automatically wrapping round his waist- still kissing with such velocity your lips broke apart as you felt his long fingers crawl up your thigh and touch you against your underwear, which was already wet. He opened his eyes and looked at you closely

“ Jesus your soaked…fucking hell Y/N “ he whispered

You bit your lip, when you did his eyes glowed in arousal

“This all for me?” He breathed against your jaw, your hair danced against his exhale.

You nodded only once, kissing his bottom lip slowly - he swallowed deeply , you felt his cock get hard against your hip, he kept his eyes trained on you as he snaked two fingers under your panties and slowly pushed them inside you.

You winced at the contact and moved to kiss his neck, he moved them in and out - your hand moved from the frame and grabbed his waist - it was all too much…and it was just his fingers.

“So tight….did Jacob ever fuck you?!” He asked grinning slightly.

You slapped his arm playfully “Shut up and kiss me.” You barked.

He obeyed, but only kissing the outline of your jaw slowly, biting it in rhythm with his fingers going in and out of you.

You couldn’t keep quiet, as you let out one moan he covered your mouth with his as his fingers picked up the pace , you felt your orgasm approaching quickly

“Aeg…Aegon…”’you whispered hoarsely in between kisses

He leaned into you and nibbled at your ear lobe “come for me.” Breathed against your ears, the vibrations of his voice coupled with the fingers pushing your orgasm closer brought you to the edge- your head collapsed into the crook of his neck as you screamed into his skin as you felt your walls clench around his fingers, you came with such delight even he moaned with you- it felt so good.

He pushed you down and your spine rested on the pool table, he looked into your eyes as he removed his fingers, he rested his hand on your smooth thigh - he lazily kissed your lips - as your hand trailed down his stomach to his trousers you both jumped up as a familiar voice

“Aegs? You in there?” You both couldn’t move, the door handle flipped up and down. “Aegs?” The voice disappeared.

Aegon looked at you for a moment and gently brushed your forehead with his hand…he wore conflict on his face.

“Don’t go…” you said softly - almost pleading- you ached for him.

He looked you up and down, he stood up - both his hands on your knees as you shamelessly sat up, your cleavage slightly distracting him. Your fingers pulled on his shirt and kissed him. He broke away “I need to…”

You bit your lip again , he noticed “Don’t….”

He warned , you didn’t move your lips

“Fucks sake.” He kissed you again , your legs wrapping tighter around his waist - his finger tips digging into your thighs. You felt his cock still hard against you- your hands wondering up and down his chest, you were sure you would tear his shirt off . You both broke your lips apart and he clasped your hands into his. He gently kissed your hands and you watched him “We need…let me talk to her and….we can talk about …”

“Us ?” You asked with hope

He nodded “Yes…”

You heart jumped at the words he spoke. He kissed you once again and straightened out his shirt.

You smiled at him “I’ll slip out and leave…meet me at my place later?”

He nodded “yeah yeah…I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

You looked at him, unsure if you should kiss him or hug him- to your surprise he knelt slightly, keeping his eyes on yours , he kissed your thigh and turned on his heel and left the room.

You had to wait a moment to catch your breath, shuffling yourself off the table you couldn’t help but smile- you were nervous though…your friendship was now on a very precarious line.

Chapter 4

TAGS

@schniiipsel @moonchildrenandflowercrowns @chainsawsangel @nolongereviliwantlove @motley-baby @bcon24 @lauraneedstochill @sscreamingbanshee @arcielee @talesofoldandnew @namoreno @happilyhertale @pearlstiare @afro-hispwriter @f4ll-for-you @aemond-targaryenx @bogwaterswamp

#aegon ii targaryen #hotd aegon #tom glynn carney #Aegon x reader #modern aegon #party #friends to lovers #slow burn #house targaryen #hodt #hbo

[pollenallergie]

older!Tom Grant is a lonely, lonely man.

… or at least he was…

before he adopted Haz (short for Harold) the one-year-old English Bulldog from the local animal shelter and Jago the former stray cat (definitely one of those stereotypical orange himbo cats) who just sort of walked into Tom’s place one day and stayed there. together, the three of them are “The Lads.” if you ever hear Tom mention that he’s with “The Lads,” he’s likely talking about his non-human roommates, not his actual mates.

granted, he’s a social guy, so he definitely spends plenty of time with his mates.

#it feels weird to call him older!tom when in my mind this tom is only like 32 #like… older where?? #guys are still douchebags and (at least in my town) party animals at 32 #older where #but also like he was canonically 18 so yeah… 32 is older than 18 #older!tom grant #older!tom #tom grant #tom grant x reader #tom grant (make up) #make up 2019

[themorningsunshine]

Morning by the sea

Moodboard masterlist

Pairing - Peter Parker x f!reader

This is my second entry for @the-slumberparty​ ‘s Week 3 Creator event : Artistic Liberty  

I have combined two prompts - Morning and sea (Because who doesn’t want to sit at the beach and watch the sunset with the person you love, right?)

#slumber party #navy and roo sleepover #peter parker #moodboard #peter parker x reader #spider man x reader #tom holland #tom holland x reader #morning #sunrise #sea #beach #marvel

[fuckmycrane]

18+, smut, drug use, dubcon.

– a/n: before I eep. We. Need. More. Tom. Content (and I'll provide 🫡)

A sticky string of drool trickles down your chin as Tom's cock bullies your tight walls. His shaky hands squeeze your waist hard enough to bruise— but your thoughts are too foggy and your pussy is too cockdrunk to even form a coherent word.

When your divorce lawyer offered you a glass of wine, you— stupidly— thought it would help you ease some of the stress, because a damn divorce is so fucking exhausting... but surprise! A bottle of wine later, you found yourself accepting a line... and his cock. Your head is floating, everything is spinning and every sensation is heightened; you don't even register the slight pain in your lower back from the way Tom has you bent over on his couch, pinning you down with his weight.

His dick is big— bigger than your ex–husband's, bigger than that noisy vibrator you bought after your excuse of a man stopped pleasuring you... because God forbids a man is capable of making a woman feel good.

You mewl weakly when he stops, you listen to his hurried fidgeting and despite your dizzy neurons, you quickly understand what he's doing— as if the loud snort wasn't enough. Tom groans, rubbing his nose and smirking. "Having fun?" He asks breathlessly, reaching for your ass and groping it meanly. Words fail you, in fact, every fiber of your being is under your mercy. Tom laughs, enjoying the view of your first ride. "Yeah, you'll get used to it."

#— ✏️ anya writes! #— 🕯️ tom (the party 2017) #tom (the party 2017) #tom x reader smut #tom x reader #cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut

[erule]

2.2K followers celebration party

Hi!! As promised, since I reached 2.2 followers (thank you!!), I’m gonna celebrate it in my own way. I’m gonna leave here a prompt list and a trope list made by myself, so you can send them to my inbox (both of them or just one) and request me to write a fic with your favourite character/actor among the followed ones. 

So send me the genre, character, a prompt and/or a trope! 

Genre:

angst

fluff

slightly/implied smut 

Characters list:

Tom Holland 

Peter Parker (Tom Holland)

Peter Parker (Andrew Garfield)

Nathan Drake (Tom Holland) 

Stephen Strange 

Steve Harrington 

Billy Hargrove 

Tony Stark 

Sirius Black 

Dean Winchester

Prompt list:

“You’re not going without me”.

“You ruined everything!”

“Don’t go where I can’t follow”.

“I could never stop loving you”.

“If something happens to you, you come to me!”

“You’re always gonna be my weakness”.

“I’m sad. Can we cuddle?”

“Those clothes? They’d look better on the floor, if you ask me”.

“Stop doing that or I’m gonna kiss you right now”.

“Where am I looking? At you. I’m always looking at you”.

Trope list: 

Enemies to lovers

Exes to lovers again

Fake dating au

Friends to lovers

Strangers to lovers

Established relationship  

#tom holland x reader #peter parker x reader #tasm peter parker x reader #nathan drake x reader #stephen strange x reader #steve harrington x reader #billy hargrove x reader #tony stark x reader #sirius black x reader #dean winchester x reader #2.2K followers celebration party #erule's masterlist #tom holland x you #peter parker x you #steve harrington x you