#sub!tom

[viperify]

KINKTOBER 2025 | ꜱᴜʙ!ᴛᴏᴍ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

🂱 DANGEROUS GAME.

SUMMARY: History of Magic is notoriously boring—though, not as much when you have your subby boyfriend by your side who’s willing to do anything to please you.

WARNINGS: MATURE CONTENT. nerdy sub!Tom. semi public handjob, exhibitionism, praise, lots of pet names for our beloved tommy, he’s messy when he cums, slight overstim, almost getting caught.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: It’s officially Kinktober!!! we are getting started with our beloved sub!Tom, who’s as pathetic as always. I hope you enjoy. <33

wordcount: 2,2k

Mr. Binns was the very epitome of the subject he taught.

History of Magic was arguably the most tedious subject ever introduced at Hogwarts. Not a single lesson passed without your professor, an old lifeless ghost, falling asleep fifteen minutes into the two-hour session, leaving the students to teach the matter to themselves.

It wasn’t guaranteed he’d wake up before winged bells announced the end of the lesson either, so most of the time you didn’t even bother bringing your outrageously expensive textbooks at all—which were a complete waste of money, now that every exam turned into a group project with your professor’s loud snores in the background anyway.

Even worse—History of Magic was mandatory, and the last subject of the day on a Friday afternoon.

You had a thousand better things in mind which you could be doing right now instead of sitting in his classroom, your head propped on one hand while the other mindlessly scribbled on the wooden desk, eyes lazily following the pointed tip of your quill.

For example, spending some of your rare free time with your boyfriend, who just so happened to explain what Binns had left off with before he dozed off minutes ago—and looking unfairly handsome during it, too.

“It was during the 14th Century Wizarding Economic Bubble—in 1474, to be exact—that a goblin named Gringott founded the bank which was later named after him.” Tom explained, browsing through the pages of his textbook to find the corresponding chapter.

“Mhm,” you mumbled, drawing patterns and small figures on your desk, the surface already marked up from all the other same, boring lessons of the past school year. While students were highly encouraged to report damage to school furniture, the desk you had chosen at the very beginning of the semester was rarely occupied—it was all the way at the back, and since your professor did not make the effort to speak up during the limited minutes he was awake inevitably left students no choice but to take front seats.

It wasn’t that you needed a teacher for any subject anyway. Most of the time, Tom was more knowledgeable than any scholar Hogwarts could possibly ever recruit.

“Are you even listening? I assume this might be worth knowing for our next exam,” he muttered softly, interrupting your train of thoughts by shoving his textbook right in front of you and pointing towards the text passage he had apparently already known by heart.

Your gaze wandered from the drying black ink on your desk to your boyfriend next to you. For a long moment you just lazily stared at him—his features were molded into a genuinely concerned expression, and you had to stifle a laugh at the sight. He tried over and over again to convince you that the information you missed out on was of value, but deep down you and he both knew you’d most likely never need any of this again—your professor’s motivation being the best indicator.

“I am listening, just keep talking,” you yawned, though still trying your best to conceal your disinterest in the topic. Without further thought, Tom continued, not sparing his textbook a single glance while he enthusiastically preached the history of Gringotts to you.

And you almost, almost nodded off—until a more than inappropriate thought came to your mind and you realised that you very well could utilize the time you’d still be stuck in here.

Gently, you put your quill down and inched your hand closer to his, placing it atop—which immediately made him forget what he was just so passionately explaining to you. Your eyes sparkling with challenge, you leaned in slightly, your voice dropping to a low purr. “The exam. You’ll let me copy off you anyway, won’t you, Tommy?”

The heat of your breath ghosted over the side of his face, and Tom flinched slightly at the insinuation behind your words—he recognized the tone with which you said it all too well.

His cheeks flushed with embarrassment—feeling tingly and warm, the sweetest rosy colour spreading all the way to his ears. His beautiful brown orbs widened for a moment before he cleared his throat and quickly dropped his gaze to the words in his book, flipping the page hastily.

“Yes,” he quipped, soft and barely audible before he spoke up louder again, eager to change the topic. “So— Gringotts has been managed by goblins since it was established, except during the— uhh— late 1500s when— the Ministry took over. This did not change until…”

Your lips curled into a subtle smirk as you studied his features, suddenly all tense and nervous, the earlier confidence vanished as he rambled on about the new topic —and it was then, when he shifted in his seat, that another idea popped up in your head.

And you really should’ve just forgotten about it—however, it wouldn’t leave your mind, no matter how hard you tried to focus on his words instead. Entirely forbidden, and if anyone caught you, you’d be lucky not to be expelled—but God, the mere thought of it sent a wave of adrenaline rushing through your body, straight to your core.

“Tom, look at me.” you murmured, your smooth and soft voice causing yet another short-circuit in his brain, and he stumbled over his words before he reluctantly met your eyes.

“You are so adorable when you’re flustered.”

 “I am not—“ he quickly shook his head, but his face only grew a darker shade of red, inadvertently confirming your point.

And now, you pretty much had him where you’d wanted him. Too shy to even look at you, fingers trembling as he skipped to the next chapter.

Just a little more teasing.

You inched closer to him, body pressed against his as your hand wandered to his leg and you pressed a gentle kiss to his warm cheek.

“Oh, but you are. And I think I have a better idea of how we could pass time,” you whispered, eyes quickly glancing at the very-asleep Binns before they returned to his. Your hand slowly but surely made its way up his thigh, head dipping to place another kiss on the side of his neck.

Tom almost choked on his breath when he realised what you meant. “Here? The lesson will end soon and—“

You squeezed his thigh. “Yes, here.”

He glanced around nervously, briefly stopping when one of the students turned around to give someone a small piece of paper. “What if— someone sees us?”

The corner of your mouth curled into a teasing smile, and you grazed your knuckles over his heated cheeks. “What’s then, Tommy?” 

But before he could respond, your lips brushed against his tense jaw and the shell of his ear. “Are you afraid someone may see just how needy you are for me? How much you want this?”

The heel of your palm caressed the dent in his trousers as you said it, and a small, yet sharp sound slipped from his lips, even as he tried focusing on anything but you and your ministrations—and yet, he failed miserably.

“Please,” Tom rasped before he could stop himself, small and broken, and already chasing after your touch when you removed your hand.

“Please, what? Please make me feel good? Please stop teasing me? I will need words, Tom.”

Your touch returned to the strained material of his dress pants, gently trailing along the outline of his hardened cock until his head tipped back slightly, knuckles white from how tightly he clutched at his chair. 

“Please— please don’t stop.”

“There you go. As you wish, sweetheart.” A triumphant smile spread across your face, fingers deftly working open his zipper just enough so you were able to free him from the confinement of his trousers.

“Sweet— sweetheart,” His breath trembled when your hand wrapped firmly around his achingly hard cock, resting hot and heavy in your hand before you set a slow and gentle rhythm, your eyes never once leaving his. Tom was barely able to conceal the little sounds of pleasure he was making, face flushed, dark curls fallen over his forehead.

He resembled a broken mess, and you’d barely gotten started. 

His eyes were straining to focus on your surroundings, on students glancing at the clock at the front of the classroom, on your unmoving professor—watching them cautiously.

“Relax. Be a good boy and let me make you feel good, hm? That smart brain of yours needs a break sometimes too,” you drawled, voice soothing as you grasped his face and turned his head towards yours, away from the others.

Finally, when his conflicted eyes met yours, his body sank back against the chair. Slow but tight pumps had his eyelids flutter closed in no time, lips pressed together tightly as slick sounds began emerging from beneath the desk.

And oh, how you loved when he let his guard down for you—even here, even in a classroom full of people, he let you have your way with him. Just because you wanted it—and as long as he breathed, you’d get what you desired.

Neither when you sped up did he make any effort to stop you. Instead, he bit back his quiet gasps and groans, letting you have him completely—all vulnerable and exposed, trying his hardest to stay quiet for you.

But you’d always been one for testing his limits.

“Fuck— don’t—“ he half-shrieked, legs pressing together and eyes blown wide when you tightened your grip, rubbing your palm over the head of his cock—though he regained his composure almost immediately, too afraid someone might have heard.

“Shhh. Quiet.” You offered a cheeky grin in return, and repeated what you’d just done. “That feels good, doesn’t it?”

Tom only managed a croaky “yes,” his muscles straining to keep him seated—fighting the urge to thrust up into your hand with every ounce of restraint he had left.

However, the end of the lesson approached quicker than you thought, and it would only be a matter of time until students started shoving their unused books back inside their bags and heading towards the exit—which happened to be right next to your desk.

“If you want to cum, then do it now,” you muttered, squeezing him tighter and picking up the pace. “Or will you let everyone see just how pathetic and needy you are for me?” 

Tom quickly shook his head, chest rising and falling in quick succession as he braced himself for the inevitable. You really were cruel enough to have him teeter on the edge while your classmates were eagerly awaiting the end of the lesson, already packing up.

“Then cum for me, pretty boy. Be good and look at me when you do,” you murmured, focusing the movement of your hand entirely on the flushed and swollen head, his precum coating your palm as you teasingly rubbed over the sensitive skin—all while your other hand pumped up and down his length, so tight it almost hurt.

He was so close, twitching and pulsing in your grasp as his head leaned back, no longer able to stop himself from thrusting up into your slick hand. Just a moment later he tensed, hissing lowly as thick ropes of cum spurt from his reddened tip, coating your hand and his length with his sticky, white release.

You hummed with satisfaction, stroking him through his orgasm as you slowly watched him go limp against the chair. “There’s a good boy—making a mess all over himself and me, hm?”

Your movements didn’t stop even after he was done, giving him a few more pumps until his hand clutched your wrist and a soft, trembling whimper escaped his parted lips. 

“Please, no more.”

You let go of him then, smiling softly as you kissed his cheek again. Your eyes dropped to his trousers and the very visible stains on them, huffing a soft laugh.

“Tell me the spell to clean you up, sweetie.”

But you should’ve known Tom was nowhere in the right mind to even think about spells right then—he stuttered a few incoherent words, none of them resembling a spell even in the slightest.

And you could have done it yourself too, of course. It was one of the first spells you learned years ago—but this, this was perhaps the most fun part about the game you were playing with him.

“Concentrate. You can do it. You are a smart boy after all, aren’t you?”

When he didn’t reply, you teasingly brushed the pad of your thumb over his still-sensitive tip—a ghost of a touch, really—yet it startled him, almost choking on his breath before he gasped out an answer.

“Scourgify” 

Students were already getting up and starting to leave when you cast the spell. Instantly, his sticky release was cleaned from your palm and his cock, the stains on his trousers vanishing in the blink of an eye. You barely had time to tuck him back in before they began walking past you, chattering loudly about how useless this lesson was.

When everyone besides you two had left, you turned towards him again with a pleased smile on your lips.

“What were you talking about again?”

“I— I don’t remember.”

“Perfect.”

thank you for reading! feel free to reblog and leave feedback <3 — masterlist. | kinktober.

©2025 viperify. please do not copy, translate or claim my work as your own.

[scatterrbrain]

Back to Square One

Tom Riddle x f!reader

Synopsis: Having Tom beneath you in a haze of lust is one thing, at least believable. But having him lose control of his body? That’s something else entirely.

Content: 18+ only, porn no plot, Tom/reader are both over 18, dry(/wet ??) humping, cowgirl position, no actual sex, sub!tom (he's kind of pathetic), voice kink if you squint, m! cumming in pants, slight overstim m!rec, oral f!rec, no use of y/n

A/N: This is my first time writing smut(?) properly, so my bad if it doesn't come across super well. I definitely struggled a little, and heaps of my paragraphs kept getting deleted. Shout out to @viperify for giving me inspo to write Tom!! Genuinely love your works ahhh. — I might write a continuation of this if I feel like it? Reason it exists in the first place is because I was writing a oneshot for Tom x reader and got annoyed at how long it was taking me to reach the smut. It's at like 2.2k words so far (smut not started), so hopefully I'll finish that soon.

wc: 1k

You weren’t sure how you’d managed to get Tom Riddle in this position, the usually stoic man reduced to a flushed, panting mess beneath you, but you weren’t complaining.

Rhythmically rolling your hips against his left you softly humming from the pleasure at your core, holding back the smirk threatening to twist your mouth upwards as you watched Tom barely hold it together.

His head was thrown back, mouth hung open and eyes glassy as you continuously dragged your panty-clad pussy over his straining bulge. Having been at this for what felt like hours, your needy, dribbling cunt had soaked through your panties, staining his grey trousers darker than what his precum alone could’ve done.

Slick and pre leaked from your bodies and mixed at the point you met, soaked through your clothes and left behind a sticky, filthy mess.

Dragging your swollen clit harder over his erection only added to the ever-growing pit of need in your stomach, the increase in pressure pulling a strangled moan from your lips.

Tom’s body reacted before his brain, hips bucking against your core from below in a needy fashion, hands flying to your thighs to hold you still and spread you wider. He thrust upwards in relentless succession, eyes squeezed shut and fingers digging into the soft flesh as if he were trying to fuck you silly through your clothes.

“I can’t do this, I can’t do this—” he practically mewled, the breathy, needy sounds leaving his lips becoming higher and higher in pitch the more desperate he became.

While you were enjoying watching his control slip, the stiffness of his cock bullying your sensitive nub over and over through the fabrics separating them was making it hard to focus.

“Oh fuck,” the whiny, keening words left you as his cockhead caught on your pudgy clit, having to press your hands down on his chest to stay upright as need ached hotter in your body.

“Don’t, I’m— a-ah…”

Through his rutting and incoherent babbling, you could feel the pathetic twitching of his bulging cock between your folds.

A soft, breathy whimper fell from your lips, driven by the continuous throbbing of your own sex and the musky smell of arousal as he rubbed up against you.

“Tommy…”

That was all he needed. His eyes snapped open to look into your half-lidded gaze, the lust reflected at him enough to push him over the edge.

He was so close...

Chains of curses tumbled from his lips as his eyes rolled back, unable to hold yours any longer as the overwhelming knot in his stomach finally snapped.

A hot release of warmth spilt from deep within him, not even getting the chance to warn you before it happened.

Tom arched his back into you, feeling the intensity of the throbbing from his dick, letting pleasure take him over. It was hot, desperate, and messy, his cock pulsating with every pathetic spurt of his release. He was losing his mind, spilling into his pants with a deep groan that made your head spin and pussy clench.

He suddenly felt inexperienced, like he’d just touched himself for the first time again, powerless to the swollen, sensitive flesh that would twitch and leak just from being a little too close to a pretty girl he didn’t care for. But it wasn’t any girl doing this; it was you who was making him wet himself with cum like a pitiful virgin.

You could feel the warmth spreading beneath you, his pretty brown eyes filled with so much pleasure they couldn’t even look at you properly as he made a mess of himself.

The hot, sticky fabric beneath you, and needy cries of bliss from Tom, only encouraged you to keep chasing your own pleasure, grinding on him through his orgasm.

Only when his whiny pleas reached your ears — practically begging you to stay still as the beginnings of overstimulation started short-circuiting his brain — did you listen.

Despite this, he was panting beneath you and bucking his hips erratically, trying to pull your thighs even further apart as if to get closer to your drooling cunt, contradicting his pleas for you to stop.

You had to quickly try and catch your breath before slapping the hands he had on your thighs, getting him to loosen his grip so you could pull away from where he was so sensitive.

A string of dribbled arousal connected your clothed sexes as you pulled back, kneeling above him with trembling thighs and skirt bunched around your waist. You stared at his mess, pants dark and sticky from where you’d been grinding against him, wetness spread over his crotch and between his thighs from soiling himself with cum.

His hair was messy, dark waves stuck to his forehead with sweat, and his cheeks and ears were flushed a deep pink as he panted beneath you, matching your own shuddering breaths. But he wasn’t looking away; despite cumming in his pants like a boy just starting puberty, his eyes were glued to you. Glued to the space between your slick, shimmery thighs.

“C’mere,” he murmured breathlessly, finally recovered enough to break the silence, not looking away from your soaked panties. They were sheer with absolute arousal, sticking to your pussy like a second skin. “Wanna taste you.”

He stretched forward slightly to cup the back of your thighs, encouraging you forward in an amatory gesture.

Almost kneeling above his head now, you looked down at him. He was so gorgeous like this, face flushed and hair a mess beneath you.

“You don’t have to do this, you know.” A concerned expression adorned your face, even as your arousal dribbled down your thighs and your clit throbbed in anticipation.

Tom just lazily smirked up at you, hands shifting to rest between your arse and lower back.

“Just relax,” he purred, pulling you closer to sit on his face.

A small whimper slipped from your lips as you felt his hot tongue slowly drag over your panties.

Seeing no point in fighting it, you sighed, sinking your full weight onto his face. If his deep groan of approval was anything to go by, vibrating pleasantly against the nerves between your thighs, you knew he wouldn’t have given you a choice but to enjoy it regardless.

From that alone, you knew. You knew he was going to drag it out for as long as possible.

I spent way too long tryna make this post look pretty.

Not too happy with the writing, but oh well.

I also did it entirely on mobile. The amount of hoops I had to jump through for gradient text is insane.

[slytherin-princess-x]

Rewriting his rules

Tom riddle x dom!reader

Tw: slight smut just reader trying to get Tom to submit

I was sick of it. Sick of the way Tom always took charge, his hands already on my hips, guiding, his lips already on mine, demanding, his body already pressing, asserting. Even in our most intimate moments, he was the conductor of a symphony I was merely a beautiful instrument in. It was exhausting, predictable, and frankly, a little demeaning.

Tonight, however, was different.

He was in his study, hunched over his mahogany desk, quill scratching, the faint scent of ink and old parchment filling the air. He wore a crisp white shirt, sleeves rolled to expose the lean, sinewy forearms that usually pinned me down. His dark hair fell just so over his brow, almost inviting a stray touch. He was utterly absorbed, his concentration a palpable force in the room.

Perfect.

I approached slowly, deliberately. He didn't look up, merely sensing my presence. "Darling," he murmured, his voice a low thrum that always sent a shiver down my spine. "Just a moment. Important correspondence."

I didn't answer. Instead, I simply walked around the desk, my hand trailing idly across his shoulder. He shifted slightly in his large, plush desk chair, a subtle acknowledgment. Then, with a languid grace I didn't truly possess, but feigned well enough, I lowered myself onto his lap.

He finally looked up then, a flicker of that intense, possessive gaze meeting mine. A hint of a smirk played on his lips. "Impatient, are we?" he purred, his hand automatically going to my waist, beginning to pull me closer.

This was it. The usual script. But not tonight.

As his strong fingers circled my waist, a quiet burst of intent, a surge of magic, left me. It wasn't a spoken incantation, barely even a thought, just pure, distilled will. The air around him shimmered for a bare second, almost imperceptibly. Invisible bonds, woven from pure magic, solidified, adhering him firmly, inextricably, to the very chair he sat in. His feet could not leave the floor, his torso could not lean forward, his hands, though still technically free, felt compelled to remain where they were, a subtle, unyielding pressure holding them there.

He stiffened. The hand on my waist, instead of pulling, became rigid. His eyes, sharp and intelligent, narrowed as he tried to shift, tried to move, and found he couldn't. He looked down, then back at me, the smirk faltering, replaced by a glint of surprise, then bewilderment, and finally, dawning comprehension.

"What...?" he began, a low growl rumbling in his chest.

I leaned in, my voice a soft, almost predatory whisper. "Not tonight, Tom." My fingers traced the line of his jaw, then slid to cup his face, holding his gaze. "Tonight, you're mine. Completely."

His jaw clenched, and I could see the battle warring within him. He was Tom Riddle, the master manipulator, the one who always held the reins. To be so utterly helpless, so unexpectedly caught... it was anathema to him. His dark eyes flared, a desperate attempt to assert control, but the spell held firm.

I shifted, grinding my hips against his, slowly, deliberately. A shudder ripped through him, and his breath hitched. He tried to move his hands, to grasp me, to take over, but they simply wouldn't obey the command, remaining frozen in their position.

"Oh, frustrated, my love?" I murmured, mimicking the taunting tone he often used on me. I traced the strong line of his throat, feeling the pulse hammering beneath my fingertips. I leaned in, my lips brushing his ear. "Good. Because that's precisely how I feel, most nights."

I continued the slow, torturous grind, pulling back just as his body tensed, just as he was about to press into me. I watched his eyes, avidly. The frustration was warring with a rapidly building desire, a delicious combination that made my own blood sing. His pupils were blown wide, and his lips, usually so firm and demanding, were slightly parted, a ragged breath escaping them.

"You like to wait, don't you, Tom?" I purred, trailing my tongue just along the edge of his ear, delighting in the shiver that ran down his spine. "To build the tension. To push me to the brink, and then pull back. To watch me beg."

His hands, still fixed, twitched as if fighting an invisible constraint. A low, almost imperceptible whine threatened to leave his throat, and he swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. He was fighting it back with every fiber of his being, the whimper of vulnerability, of desperate need, so utterly unlike him.

I leaned back just enough to watch his face, my hips still moving, just barely, tantalizingly. His chest was heaving, his powerful body rigid with both restraint and an agonizing, mounting pleasure. He couldn't move, couldn't take, couldn't even reach out to touch me in the way he craved. The tables were turned, and the shock of it seemed to amplify every sensation.

"Look at you," I breathed, my voice thick with triumph. "So beautiful, so powerful, utterly helpless." I leaned forward again, my lips hovering inches from his. "Aren't you going to beg, Tom? Just a little?"

His eyes were smouldering, a mixture of fury, mortification, and raw, unadulterated lust. His breath hitched, ragged and shallow. He wanted to curse me, to break free, to twist the situation back to his will. But he couldn't. And the need, the burning, unfulfilled need, was winning. A low, strangled sound, a true whine this time, escaped his lips as I pulled back, just inches, for the hundredth time.

"Good boy," I whispered, a smirk, one he usually reserved for himself, gracing my own lips. "Now, this is going to be fun."

He was mine. And the night had only just begun.

Taglist: @yootvi @smut-anarchy @littlemadamred @voidofsunlight @redeemingvillains @nodoubtily @moscatosin @joohsemind

[thewriterg]

𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥

pairing(s); tom holland x fem!reader, sub!tom x dom!reader

summary; Tom hadn’t been to a costume party since he was in college but thanks to his brother Harry he’s broken his record but the actor quite say he regret making a deal with the devil —kinktober day; 21—

word count; 1.5k

warning(s); SMUT, spanking, face riding, oral (f receiving), tail job?, edging, kisses, pet names, and language

playlist; glory box by portishead

A/n:—GIFs; @ffckedup & @erensbitch— It’s kink mf tober

“Oh fuck you Harry” Tom muttered watching the banquet come into his view and suddenly his urge to crawl up into a ball and have his driver that was made to sure he entered the establishment by his dear brother of course take him back home while he inched closer to the party it was VIP, invite, and celebs only but the didn’t seem to make the brunette go jump off a cliff any less

If anything it could make the urge stronger

“Is there a problem Mr Holland?” The chauffeur questioned as he opened the brunettes door a little underlying urge to his voice and the actor took the hint stepping out of the black Porsche patting the man on his suit covered shoulder shaking his head with a small smile

“No, thank you” Suddenly not really so for the suit secure on his toned body not expecting the familiar white flashing lights shoved into his face as multiple questions were thrown his way he tight lipped the pap before getting rushed into the building flashing changing colored lights and blaring music taking over his senses and he heard different greetings from all over the place

“Spidey!”

“Oh Tom hi!”

“Is that the real suit man!?”

it was definitely college nostalgia to say the least

He smiled and waved at all of who he could making his way toward the bar a whiskey on the rocks imbedded in his mind greatly he had been mingling for less than twenty minutes and he already wanted to leave the least he could do is indulge in a little drink to treat himself for not already crawling under a rock

“Need a drink?” Tom heard a voice directly by his ear and when he turned to his head to look at the direction of sound just to turn around and find nothing before he reset to his usual position you were in front of him horns coming from your forehead your eyes crimson fangs peaking through as you spoke

“Pretty boy can’t handle loud noises and flashing lights?” You questioned lowly a teasing underlying tone thick on your tongue as you took a glass from the counter setting a cube in the glass and pouring Jack Daniels in the glass passing it to the brunette swiftly

“That’s cute, well aren’t you adorable” He hummed before taking a swallow of the bitter liquid falling into his mouth and down his throat eyebrows furrowing when he looked up from his glass and you weren’t there in front of him like you were

“Willing to make a deal with the devil Tommy?” You hummed in the actors ear making him shiver his mouth agape at the sudden change his eyes darting from behind the counter back towards where you’re standing now his heartbeat staring to beat a bit faster

“I-I um, guess I’ll roll that dice” He whispered before jumping in his seat as something wrapped around his leg before retreating and looked down to see a very realistic looking tail swinging back and forth at his feet before you were walking away a dramatic sway in your hips

“That one’s a looker who’s your designer? Woah where you going darling?” Tom was out of his seat following after you dodging dancing bodies until the music was dying down in his ears the lights no longer flashing in his eyes the actor felt a fog take over him clouding his senses until he was somewhere he completely didn’t recognize

“Gonna ask you one more time, willing to make a deal with the devil” He could see you fully now his head spinning his sense fully clouded of you his pupils dilated and his control felt compelled to you

“Whatever you want.. Miss whatever you want” He uttered dropping to his knees in front of you while your tail swayed against the back of your calves while you circled the brunette your heels clicking against the floor before you took a seat behind him your head tilting at the sight of his toned back

“You’ve done this before?” You interrogate him not moving from your position on the end of the giant bed frame while pressing a heel on the surface of his back pushing him to all fours while he goes down without a protest

“Yes mam” You hummed in response he’s obedient and pure with just with a little dark underlying it was… refreshing to say the least

“Go across the room strip I want everything off and then, crawl back to me” The brunette scurried away and he thanked the years of rushing in and out of the suit all over the world while he heard you heels against the floor the sound imbedded in his mind while crouching back down to his knees slowly returning to the spot he once was this time his carved face looking up into yours with those doe brown eyes filled with just about zero thoughts, jaw sharp enough to cut a sheet of glass, and the slight bump on his nose that would hit the spot

“You’ve ever been punished Tommy?” You whispered and he felt the presence of your tail against him again this time a thousand more times pleasurable causing him to let out an uncontrollable moan slipping from his lips his cheeks heating up tinting a soft pink before he could open his mouth for a response something whipped down on his lower back and the crack of his ass a whimper tangling in the brunettes tongue his curls sticking to his forehead

“I asked you a question” You hissed patience wearing blatantly thin

“Yes miss I have” He winced at the crop coming back down on his ass the sting subtle at first before cracking a burning punch and it continues tears brought to his eyes dripping onto the floor his backside battered and bruised and the actor knew sitting down would be a challenge for the next few days to come

“You think you should apologize for your manners pup?” You come into his view now only in a set of black lace that didn’t cover much he could feel himself salivating in his mouth

“Yes, please let me I’ll make it right I swear- I’ll do anythin-” He quiets at the look of you hand in the air aiding him to stop your presence demanding attention and affection God by the looks of it to Tom you deserve to be prayed to a temple built directly off of your body You slip down the pair of underwear your cunt bared to him while you took striding steps towards his frame and the pale boy took a small second to dart out his tongue to wet his lips before you hovering directly over his face like a dog with a bone

“Look at you finally learning being a real good boy, stay, stay, eat.” You hummed as he dived into your clit at your call his tongue dipping into you fold collecting the build up of arousal and your hand slithers up to his head and into his hair pulling and tugging roughly causing Tom to whine coyly the vibrations shooting up your spleen causing you to close your thighs on his head a borderline pornographic moan spilling from you while your rolled you hips against his face the bump in his nose hitting your clotting causing your hips to stutter

Toms hips suddenly bucked up into nothing a muffled groan that would’ve shook the room otherwise coming from his throat your tail wrapped around his cock stroking him the same pace he was stroking your clit with his tongue and the brunette began to come to the realization that it really wasn’t a prosthetic as he circled your clit flattening his tongue against your bundle of nerves while you hissed in pleasure your knees shaking on either side of his head he takes this time to finally attack your bud like a shark in a pool with a drop of blood and your eyes snap open while you let out a scream your coating rushing down to Tom’s tongue dribbling down his chin while he lapped up all the juices he scientifically could and then some the action riding you through your high almost putting you into overstimulation until you finally lift up your knees a little wobbly and your stance a little more slouched and the look you explain on the man’s face is drunk to say the least

You smirk while he whines your tail coming of his flushed cock his release slipping through his fingers like sand

“Didn’t think it’d be that easy did you?”

©2023 thewriterg spooktober do not copy, translate, or modify.

[hollandlover19]

Ok so Ik I haven’t posted in a while but I keep thinking of this concept and I need to get it out of my system

Peters been having a really shitty day, he woke up late and missed his exam and got berated by his teacher for it, then he spilled his coffee when someone bumped into him on campus and had to run home and change which made him late to his next class and instead of continuing the lecture his teacher stopped what he was doing and made Peter answer the equation on the spot in front or a room full of people followed by a lecture on being late, then on his way home it started raining and he didn’t have an umbrella so he was cold, wet, and tired by the time he got home since he never got to drink his coffee, and just wanted to sleep but instead he was forced into game night with you and the rest of the avengers.

Everyone’s already had a few drinks save for Peter and Steve since their powers prevent them from getting even slightly tipsy. Then someone brings up the idea of playing 7 minutes in heaven. Everyone grabs something that symbolizes themselves and puts it in a bag. The first items to be picked are you and Peter you both get up and head to the closet with Bucky yelling at you to use protection, you flip him off and shut the door.

Peter leans back against the wall and collapses to the floor ready to fall asleep right there but you’re quick to keep him awake, straddling his lap and kissing his neck. You can feel him growing hard under you as he lets out a quiet moan just barely loud enough for you to hear. You start sliding your hand down to his pants but before you can go any farther you hear the timer go off, you quickly stand up, Peter groaning at the loss of contact as you both walk out and sit back on the couch.

Now Peter is in a predicament, he wants to take you upstairs and fuck the daylights out of you after the stunt you just pulled in the closet but he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to stay awake long enough to even do it, and finally, after what feels like forever the games are finally over and people start retreating to their rooms. You and Peter head to his room, you start taking of your clothes thinking he’s still in the mood and he does the same but not a minute after he lays down on the bed in nothing but his underwear you hear the quiet snores coming from your boyfriend. Chuckling to yourself, you push him over a little and lay down beside him quickly falling asleep just as Peter did.

Another version I keep thinking of is you both hear the timer go off so you go to stand up but Peter pulls you back down by your hips and webs the door shut and tells you to keep going. You try to reason with him by telling him you’ll continue later but the look he gives you makes you cave so you keep going, letting your hands slip inside his pants. He lets out another moan as you keep going but before you can go any further you can hear a drunk Sam and Bucky trying to bust the door down which pisses Peter off even more.

And yea I’ll let you imagine the rest

[greenorangevioletgrass]

wildest dreams (t.h.)

“nothing lasts forever, but this is gonna take me down.”

masterlist | kofi

pairing: tom holland x domme!reader

summary: tom sets out to blow off some steam at a bdsm club during the far from home press tour in bali... and gets so much more.

word count: 8,275

warnings: language, drinking, shenanigans, harry and sam make a cameo, d/s dynamics, dominatrix!reader, a lot of yearning, a lot more smut! (specific warnings under the cut!)

notes: here we are, folks! it started with a gossip blind item and now we’re here. this wouldn’t have come to fruition if it weren’t for @shipping-not-sailing and @tommysparker ily guys <3 enjoy!

smut warnings: [degradation, punishment, pet names, slight pet play?, spanking, use of riding crop, light bondage, dirty talk, edging (both sexually and emotionally lmao), oral (f), unprotected sex, very brief anal fingering]

***

Amazing. Brilliant. Show-stopping. Next level. Just the best.

Spread over four cities and about a million interviews for this one movie, Tom has heard all the possible compliments known to man. And it’s not like he doesn’t appreciate them —too much ego-stroking just makes him feel uneasy. He’s not really saving the world from super-villains and global catastrophes. Hell, he’s not even the real hero of the job; he just runs around playing pretend in tight spandex, while the stunt team and VFX do a lot of the weightlifting. It makes him feel undeserving of the praise. 

Of course, being Tom Holland, he’d sooner be caught dead than coming off as less than enthusiastic (or worse, downright rude) during his press junkets. Sometimes professionalism is about taking it in stride. So he smiles through the interview, once again joking about how much Marvel keeps him out of the loop when asked about a spoiler for the next Spider-Man movie. If there will be any more of it.

“I mean, I would love to do more. I’d play Spider-Man for as long as I can, if I’m honest. But, uh, let’s hope Marvel and Sony feel the same, too,” he replies diplomatically.

Meanwhile, his mind wanders to what he should do to unwind when the day is over. He could go swimming —the villa he’s staying in has a private infinity pool overlooking the sea. Or he could grab a few drinks and check out a club; he is in Bali, after all.

“Congratulations on a job well done. It’s really the best Spider-Man movie so far and you’re the best Peter Parker ever, and once again. Thank you very much, Tom.”

The praises hit him like bricks, and it takes him everything to not wince as he shakes the interviewer’s hand. “Cheers, mate. Nice meeting you.”

Tom knows just what to do to unwind. Truth be told, he’s been thinking about it since the world premiere in LA, but surrounded by all his friends, there’s no way he’d have the time or space for this. Besides, he figured he could save this for a rainy day. 

And if that rainy day happens to just… happen in the vacation/party capital of the world, he sure isn’t complaining.

The room goes into a lull in between interviews, and Tom uses this to send Harry a link captioned,

Tom: can u sus out this place for me mate? thanks

He sees Harry reach into his pocket on the corner of the room. The redhead leans against the wall and pauses, probably opening the website and skimming through the content. His eyes widen for about two seconds until he looks around, making sure nobody’s watching or peeking at his screen and composing himself.

The website’s shows ‘The Edge of Uluwatu’ on the header in a clean white font against the sleek black background. But the layout is about the only thing that is simple about this. The homepage boasts a slideshow of artsy, provocative pictures of a riding crop bitten between a woman’s red-stained lips, teeth bared like a vixen. Another woman with her stiletto heels against a man’s face, a la Margot Robbie in The Wolf of Wall Street, except the man is half naked and wearing a leather collar around his neck, the very rope tugged by the same woman herself. Another picture of arms bound behind their back in an intricate shibari tie, gentle hands fastening it.

Harry manages to keep a straight face as he types up a reply.

Harry: what the fuck????

Tom: just ask ade man, cmon pls 🙏

Harry glares at him, but Tom merely glances at the person in question. Ade, Tom’s liaison officer in Bali, is a young woman not much older than the lot of them. She has a warm smile, but something about her also screams a solid ‘Do not fuck with me’ vibe. In summary, Harry has no idea whether she would laugh in his face or tell him to piss off.

Harry scowls, but comes up to Ade at the craft service table anyway. He picks up a bottle of water as he gathers the word (and what’s left of his pride) in his head.

“Hey, Ade. Listen,” Harry clears his throat, his voice feels scratchy. His heart all but drops to his knee when she turns to him, “We don’t have anything scheduled for Tom tonight, right?”

“No. Unless you want me to set something up for you…?” Ade offers, already taking out her phone out of her back pocket. Ever so efficient, she might just be better than Harry at this job.

“Um, I was thinking of checking out a club…”

“Sure! What vibe are we looking for? Signature cocktails? Great live music? Private beach area—”

“Have you ever heard of The Edge in Uluwatu?”

It takes Ade less than two seconds to catch on, but God, if it isn’t the longest pause Harry has ever felt. “Uh… yeah. It’s not so much a ‘drinking and dancing’ kind of nightclub as it is a, how do you say it… a gentleman’s club,” she smiles politely, meaningfully to make sure he understands.

Harry makes a mental note about how he’ll kick Tom’s ass for what he’s about to ask Ade. He squares up and says,

“I know. I was wondering if it’s legit, as in proper and — um,” he looks around the room to make sure nobody’s listening in, “kink-friendly.”

Ade raises an eyebrow as it finally dawns on her what exactly this Linguine-looking dude is looking for. She must’ve thought he’s one hell of a kinky boy. But she nods in all seriousness. “Oh, it is. Yeah. We get a lot of VIP guests going through there —actors, musicians, businessmen… they’re very discreet. Real class.”

That went down easier than I hope, Harry muses. “Cool! Um.” he shifts on his heels. Already bracing for the worst, he’s not sure what to do with himself now. Should he explain himself? Does he need to arrange something? How the hell do you make an appointment at a club like that?!

“I’ll arrange a car for… 10.30 tonight, is that okay?” Ade gratefully, kindly puts him out of his misery and pats the poor boy on the back as she goes to greet the next interviewer.

“Well?” Tom looks up expectantly as Harry walks past him.

“How do I say this…” he stuffs his hands in his hoodie pocket, “I want a big fat raise and a new camera.”

Tom simply laughs. A small price to pay for a naughty good time, really.

***

The Edge seems like any other luxury resort on the island. Tucked behind winding roads and lush greens on each side, the handsome minimalist villa sits on top of a cliff, with waves crashing against the rocks down below. A spacious foyer, tastefully decorated with local sculptures and warm lighting, greets incoming guests, where they’d be escorted into one of the rooms on either wing of the building.

But of course, the rooms aren’t ordinary hotel rooms. Behind each door is a suite professionally decorated into a theme, from sensual French boudoirs to classic sex dungeons and medical suites to cater for clientele with every kind of taste.

Currently, Y/N is sitting in the Moulin Rouge-inspired room-- lush purple walls and rich red sheets and Bohemian decor- fixing up her sheer dressing gown in front of the vanity mirror, making sure her wine-colored lipstick and batwing eyeliner are flawless. 

She receives a text message from the front desk. ‘Your client is here. On the way to you now.’

And from there, it’s just a waiting game.

Y/N would drape herself on the daybed sometimes, or sit by the massive four-poster bed, or hang back at the break room to make them wait an extra minute or two. Play up the dramatics of this gig.

But tonight… It feels like a low-key night. She’d read the dossier of her incoming client —someone new. Nothing too extreme, as far as kinks go. It should be an easy enough session to cap off her shift. So she stays seated on the plush bench and plays with her hair while she waits.

The door makes a soft beep as it reads a key card from the other side, and Y/N sees her client’s face before he does. He spots her on the other end of the room and scrambles to close the door behind him.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were already here, I—”

Y/N raises a hand, promptly stopping this boy’s rambling. She doesn’t speak right away, and the tension is thick in the air. One might think she does it to tease him-- when in reality, she does it for her own benefit.

She only fell asleep watching Spider-Man on Netflix last night, after all.

“It’s alright. I just thought I’d… freshen up.” she finally turns around and stands to her full height, heels and all. She approaches her new client and offers her hand.  “Tom, right?”

“Yes.” He takes her hand and kisses the back of it.

She stays cool and unfazed as she takes a better look at his face, now certain this is the same face she saw in the movie last night.

“Charming,” she remarks with a half-smile. “I’m Mistress Ivy.”

“Nice to meet you, Mistress Ivy.” he nearly bows before her, and she thinks it’s the cutest thing she’s ever seen in a while.

“Please, make yourself at home.” She motions over the entire room, choosing the daybed by the window to sit, fully knowing it makes her look like a painting of Venus.

Tom visibly gulps, glancing at the chaise and then back to her as he waits for her permission.

She gestures at the empty spot next to her and watches him sit down, keeping an appropriate distance between them. Like a good sub, Y/N notes.

“So what brings you here, Tom?” she crosses her legs and notices him looking.

“I, uh… I want to be punished.”

“Mm. And how do you like to be punished?”

“I… like to be spanked. And tied up. And degraded and called names.”

Y/N nods and smiles knowingly, noticing his clear and concise answer. “You’ve done this before, haven’t you?”

“Is it that obvious?”

“Always good to know what you want,” she reassures him.

The two of them talk some more about the technicality of their session, and Y/N finds herself studying Tom a little further as he relaxes into the conversation. Flustered, but bold. Eager, but respectful. She briefly thought he was a sweet kid in the movie (she’d probably have a crush on him as a high schooler, she mused), but that’s about it. But now that he’s in front of her, she begins to see much more.

Tom is more on the petite side, but all lean and taut muscles, if his forearm and the lining of his fitted shirt and dress pants were anything to go by. He carries himself with such ease in his own skin— grounded and grown up, but not enough to get rid of the earnest air about him. His big doe eyes and the slight bump in his nose makes him all the more endearing.

She’s starting to think maybe she’d have a crush on him now, too.

“I gotta say… you look like a sweet boy,” Y/N muses as she makes her way towards the chest of drawers across the bed. “I wonder what you did that warrants a punishment, darling?”

His eyes darken and his cheeks redden at the pet name. “I… fuck. I’ve been an insufferable little shit all day,” he confesses.

“And a foul-mouthed one at that, too,” she notes, “Watch your language.”

“Right. Sorry.”

She looks at him pointedly. “‘Right sorry’ what?”

“Right, sorry, Mistress.” Tom looks down, though he can’t help stealing a glance at his alluring domme across the way.

“I thought you’ve done this before. Or should we start easy for a cocky pissbaby like you?” she coos mockingly, her head tilted to the side, still calm as can be.

Tom promptly straightens up. They’re not fucking around anymore now. “No, Mistress. I can take it. I promise.”

She takes one more appraising look at him. “We’ll see. Why don’t you strip down to your underwear while I choose the toy I’m gonna use to play with you, hmm? Can you do that, sweetheart?”

He normally likes the more brutal names, but the way she says ‘sweetheart’ feels like poison, and he can’t get enough of it. “Yes, Mistress.”

“Go on, then.” she turns away, as much as she’d like to watch him peel all those layers off of him. It’s so easy to forget how much this dom/sub dynamics is a test to her patience, too.

Tom slips out of his clothes in about 3.6 seconds, and he’s never been more thankful for his military training for an upcoming project. He stands up straight in front of the sofa, hands crossed in front of his lap to conceal his semi-erection.

“Are you wound up already?” Y/N glances down at his clasped hands.

“No…” He doesn't know how to answer that.

“You’re only gonna get in more trouble if you lie to me, baby…”

His head couldn’t decide fast enough if he wants to get in her good graces or get the punishment he’s been craving, and he ends up stammering around like an idiot.

She rolls her eyes impatiently. “For God’s sake. Are you or are you not hard right now?”

His first instinct is to try and will his boner away, but the more he does it, the more he imagines the punishment that awaits him.

And the harder he gets at the thought of that.

And stupidly, mindlessly, he still looks at her for an answer with, “No…?”

“Hands to the side, then. Let’s see it.”

Fuck. He slowly unclasps his hands, hoping for one last miracle that his erection would magically go away somehow. But of course, there he is, pitching a tent underneath his boxer briefs before even doing anything.

“Oh, you’re just looking for trouble, aren’t you?” she chuckles darkly. “I was gonna put you over my knees, but now I’m not sure I want your hard, leaking cock pressed against me.”

“No. Please, Mistress, I—” he drops to his knees, ready to crawl his way to forgiveness.

But she raises her hand, and he immediately halts. It’s amazing how her presence arrests his attention immediately; no raised voices, not even a curse word out of her. And yet he feels more deliciously tortured than he ever imagined he’d be tonight.

She doesn’t say anything for the longest time either. Just… studies him. His brown curls, even browner eyes, and his chiseled chest —rising and falling with each bated breath.

“Look so pretty on your knees, like a puppy,” she sighs. “Well, come over here, then. On all fours. Off you go.”

He makes his way across the room, and Y/N indulges in the workings of his back muscles as he crawls to her feet. Tom stops just inches away from your legs, remembering his place for once.

She makes the first move to run her fingers through his hair, and shivers at the touch just as he does. “Got anything to say to me?”

He looks up at her, “I’m sorry, Mistress.”

Y/N is mustering up all of her willpower to not give in to those big brown eyes. “Sorry for what, puppy?”

“I’m sorry for, for…”

“For being a pathetic little whore?”

Tom moans and hums.

She tightens her grip on his hair, tugs it back so he looks her in the eye. “Say it.”

His eyes shut and he takes a deep breath to brace himself. “I’m sorry, Mistress, for being a… pathetic little— whore who… couldn’t keep his own cock in check in front of his Mistress.”

Y/N’s eyebrows shoot up; she wasn’t expecting the second half of that sentence. But needless to say, she was pleasantly surprised. “That’s much better, isn’t it? My sweet, pathetic little whore.”

Tom nuzzles her leg, the side of his face rubbing against the sheer fabric of her dressing gown as she softly scratches his scalp.

“Ready for your punishment, whore? Mm? Are you?”

The looming threat underneath her soft, dulcet voice is driving him mad, and he can only nod and murmur ‘yes Mistress’ and ‘thank you Mistress’ as she orders him to bend over by the foot of the bed.

“Tell me,” she starts, “In a perfect scenario, what would your toy of choice be for your punishment?”

He grips the sheets hard. The only thing worse (or better, arguably) than the punishment itself is the anticipation. The sizzling moments of silence in between. There’s nothing he wants more than to look over his shoulder and see what his Mistress is up to. But something tells him she’ll deny him even further if he does.

So he swallows and says, “Your open hand,” his knuckles white at the thought of her sweet, soft hands on his body.

“Is that right?” there’s a hint of a smile in her voice.

“More than anything, Mistress.”

“Well. As much fun as that sounds, it’s not a punishment if you get what you want, right?”

He’s in deep fucking shit.

“But it’s not my punishment, so I can get what I want…” she croons. “And I want to use this on you.”

Tom gasps as soon as he feels it touch the back of his neck. It’s small and barely textured, the edges ever so subtly scratching his skin as she runs it down his spine.

“You’re gonna take it, aren’t you? You’re gonna take it anyway like the pathetic little whore you are,” she whispers in his ear.

He shivers and whimpers out a ‘yes Mistress’ more desperate than the last.

And then comes the swift swoosh of the riding crop, and then a snap.

Sharp and stinging against his backside.

He bites back a moan, unsure whether he’s allowed to make any sound.

“How do you feel?”

‘So good, Mistress, oh my God…”

Another strike lands on his right cheek, harder this time.

“Where the hell are your manners, huh?” she whips him on the other cheek.

“I’m sorry. Thank you so much, Mistress…”

“That’s more like it. Enjoying yourself, pup?” Y/N swipes the crop down the dip of his lower back and she swears he nearly buckles down.

He feels another lash on each of his inner thighs, where his boxer briefs meet his skin, “I am, Mistress, thank you,” and he finds himself arching his ass higher for her.

And for her only.

And this woman, with all her power and her pride, only scoffs at his response. “Well, you shouldn’t be. This is a punishment, remember?” Her smooth, honey-sweet voice is a stark contrast to the nasty cracks of leather against Tom’s skin.

She strikes him one, two, God knows how many more times. And for him, it’s both overwhelming and underwhelming at the same time. It sends him singing to the high heavens, yet it’s not enough to keep him floating in the air.

And like Orpheus and his star-crossed lover Eurydice, he eventually succumbs to his temptation. He catches a glimpse of Mistress Ivy, with her wine-colored lips between her teeth, the bell sleeves of her black dressing robe flowing over the motion of her arm. She looks…

Magical.

And as quickly as she sends him up to the clouds, she yanks him back to the ground with one sharp glare.

“No, no, no.” She turns his face away with her riding crop, letting it sit under his chin. “You don’t get to look, baby. You just get to take what I give you, okay?”

He faces forward and fixes his posture again, though not without a whine.

But once he’s had a taste, he can’t go back. With every lash, he moans his thanks. His pleas— for what, he’s not entirely sure himself. 

“Please, please, please. Mistress, I…”

“What do you want, pup?” Y/N ceases her strikes and slides her riding crop right between his legs, right against his stubborn cock. Fluttery, feather-lightly. Fucking threatening.

Tom bites his lower lip to contain his needy whines. “More…”

“More what?”

“Just— more.”

He’s starting to lose balance on his feet and focus in his eyes, teetering on the edge of subspace, and Y/N motions towards the bed.

“Take off your pants and lie on your back in the middle of the bed.” she sends him off with a soft pat on his rump, and returns to the chest of drawers.

There’s a lull, but Tom likes it. He savors the precious moment of relief, to breathe and rest his shaking knees and sore ass —and oh how it tingles when his bare skin meets the silk sheets.

But most importantly, he gets to watch his Mistress take out a couple of silk ropes and walk over to the headboard, with the robe floating behind her. She sits by his side, palm open for him to surrender his wrist to, and he nearly swoons at how gentle her touch really is. His soft binds might as well be sandpaper compared to how deft and delicate she works them around his hands.

“You’re very pretty,” he pipes up quietly.

She smiles a little, “Thank you,” as she fastens the dark red rope on his other wrist, one against each side of the bedpost, and he swears it’s almost… tender.

Almost. 

“Don’t think you’re getting away easy just by a little flattery, though,” she deadpans, and stands up on the side of the bed.

Y/N has to remind herself to slow down. Enjoy the moment. The view of this pretty boy, arms spread and restrained, carved up by the gods, entirely in her mercy. Fuck, she loves her job sometimes.

She tugs the string around her waist and lets her dressing robe slip off of her shoulders. The heat is starting to get to her— whether it’s from the exertion or simply from the tension, she’s not sure. But she loves putting on a show, and she loves seeing the wind knocked out of him even more.

Tom’s cock flexes at the sight of her and she thinks, gotcha.

“You’re enjoying this little punishment way too much, aren’t you.'' She lands an experimental whip on his pec, eliciting a strained groan out of him.

“No, Mistress…” he shuts his eyes hard, brows furrowed, like he’s trying to convince himself.

Crack! Another lash on his inner thigh. “Then what’s this, huh?” she whips higher one time, and then another, inching closer towards his erection.

He’s shameless squirming from the impact now. “I can’t help it, Mistress, please!”

“Please what?” The whip slides under his strong jawline.

A whimper, and then… “Punish my cock. Please.”

“Oh, this?” her riding crop moves swiftly along his curving member. “This desperate, pathetic cock of yours? In your dreams, slut.”

She slaps him across the face, and it is a miracle that he doesn’t cum right then and there— and quite frankly, it’s quite remarkable that she’s still able to stay calm and focused. His torso is her canvas, and with every strike, she paints it a little more red, a little bit every time. His tip leaks pearly tears as it envies other parts of his body that she deems worthy of her attention.

Little does he know, the rest of her world long faded away until it’s just him.

Sweat beads on her forehead, and the handle of her whip practically melds into her palm, now an extension of her limb. The way he squirms at every touch sends shivers down her spine. Oh, how badly she wants to feel his skin burning on her naked palm.

And by the way he strains against his binds and arches after every lash while chanting Mistress, he seems just as desperate for her, too.

“What is it, my little slut? Have you learned your lesson?” Y/N asks in a saccharine-sweet tone.

He tugs his wrists up. “I’ll be a good boy, Mistress, I swear.”

“That’s more like it, pup…” she smiles in satisfaction, reining in her punishment for the finale. “How about we do 5 more lashes, and then we’ll get you out of these ropes, hmm?”

But he turns away, his jaw flexing as he processes your words. “You haven’t… you haven’t punished my cock once— please?”

Y/N’s ice cold facade has melted for the most part, and it takes her everything to not give him… well, everything.

“Such a good little whore, asking for his punishment…” she coos condescendingly. “But you can’t cum, alright? Not during, not after. Can you keep your cock in check for me, puppy?”

“Anything for you, Mistress,” he sighs, resting his head back on the soft pillow.

It’s not like she didn’t want him to cum. If she had it her way, she would’ve straddled his lap and jumped his bone in a heartbeat. But the club applies a strict no-sex policy, and it weighs her down in the back of her mind like a distant, persistent alarm.

The last five lashes are the most torturous of all— not just for him, but for her. His cock presses stubbornly against his toned abs, the wide patch of skin now glossy from precum, and the two of them put all their mind to counting down the final moments of the punishment, distracting them from the one true temptation.

For Tom, it’s coming undone from her ministrations. For Y/N, it’s letting him do so.

Five. Four. Three.

Two. 

One.

For a split second, Tom is actually convinced he’s gonna lose his mind as the orgasm teeters on his every nerve ending. And then…

Nothing.

It dissipates until it’s nothing but a dull ache, and by then, he feels a gentle tug on his wrist. One and then another. And then he’s free, though he makes no effort to test it.

“Tom?” The same sweet voice from earlier calls out. Quietly. Carefully. “You still with me?”

The bed dips next to him, and he finds himself reaching out. “Mistress?”

“Hey…” there’s no malice in her voice anymore— no mischief. “You did so good for me, baby.”

He feels her hand on his wrist, rubbing gentle circles with her thumb, and he feels like he just won the lottery. “Thank you,” he breathes out.

Her soft fingertips travel up to his shoulder, soothing his tender skin with her palm. On his chest, his flushed cheeks, on his pronounced hip bones, and taut inner thighs. Falling asleep has never felt so easy, but he fights the urge to meet her eyes.

Her kind, curious eyes looking down at him — studying him, much more earnestly this time.

“Are you alright? Do you need anything?”

“Would you…” he swallows, just realizing how spent his throat is from the whispering and the whining and the begging, “Would you lie here with me, just for a sec?”

And Y/N wants to cry in relief. “Of course.”

She climbs into bed next to him, too close to give him space, but too far to alleviate the yearning between them. His hand is on his chest and she rests her palm on top of it, and if their legs get tangled on the sheets, neither of them say a word.

***

Two showers, eighteen hours and countless interviews.

That’s how long it’s been since Tom’s little recreational activity last night, and he’s still not able to get it off of his head. He’s running on autopilot, answering the same questions over and over again, all the while terrified he might blurt out something he’s not supposed to.

He doesn’t even realize he’s shaking hands with the last interviewer of this press tour leg until the person had left the room. Barely remembers getting into a car. Stepping out at a beach club and having a drink with Sam, Harry, and Ade.

“You alright, mate?” Sam frowns, snapping him out of his reverie.

“What? Yeah, sure.” Tom expertly waves him off. “It’s just been a long day, is all.”

“Oh, I can’t wait to go scuba diving tomorrow!” Harry groans, but then turns to Ade. “I mean, ‘surfing’, for the record. We are going surfing tomorrow.”

Ade laughs. “You know I was assigned to be buddies with you guys to make sure you don’t get into anything stupid, right? Marvel’s not letting you off the hook that easily.”

“Exactly, we’ll take what we can get,” Sam retorts without missing a beat. “And hey, you also get to break the rules with us a bit.”

The twins exchange mindless banter with their chaperone, but Tom simply laughs along. His mind is elsewhere.

“I’ll get the next round, alright?” he gets up from his seat and heads towards the bar. He signals the bartender over, finding an empty spot between a massive Viking-esque dude and a woman in a pale blue sundress at the bar.

“Hi, can I have four more Guinnesses, please? Thanks.”

Tom keeps his head down, wary of getting noticed, but he can’t help feeling a pair of eyes boring into his side.

“Holy shit.”

Her voice should have set him off. He should have ducked out before the patrons mobbed him for selfies and Spider-Man-related questions, but something about her— her timbre, her inflection made him stop.

And when he looks up, he’s convinced he was making shit up in his head.

“Mistress Ivy, I… wow. Hi.” He knows he shouldn’t say it, but otherwise he wouldn’t be able to tell if it’s true or his mind is playing tricks on him. 

She laughs, and oh God, what a sweet laugh she has. “I don’t go by that out here. I’m off the clock, see?”

“Well, nice to meet you, Mistress Off-The-Clock. I’m Tom.”

“Charming,” she grins, saying the exact thing she said last night— because she means it. She offers her hand, “I’m Y/N.”

The irony of shaking hands, again, after everything they’ve been through the other night is not lost on them, as they each hold back a smile.

“So, uh, what brings you here?” Tom asks, gingerly scratching the back of his neck.

“It’s my night off,” Y/N motions at the beer bottle in her hand.

“Oh, same.” He regrets responding so quickly— now he has no idea where to go with this conversation. All he knows is he doesn’t want this to end yet. So he gambles his life and says,

“Do you wanna get some air?”

She raises her eyebrows, and he could recognize that look anywhere. That amused, knowing look she makes every single time he does something bad last night. “What about your four Guinnesses?”

Tom looks at the new, full beer bottles in front of him, and back at his table, where the trio is talking and laughing without a single care. So he faces her again. “They’ll be fine.”

It’s always strange to run into a client outside of work, but Y/N has to admit, this time, it’s not… unwelcome.

“Shall we?” Tom tilts his head towards the beach, and with that, she leads the way out.

Y/N takes off her sandals as soon as they step off of the deck, and they walk for a little bit. Arms accidentally grazing as they move away from the hustle and bustle of the bar, closer towards the gentle waves and quiet rustles of leaves. They walk and walk until the crowd feels distant and they sit under a palm tree with their toes buried in the sand.

She watches him become himself —confident and earnest at the same time. He doesn’t say much about the glitz and glamour of his work (he doesn’t think she’d be impressed by it anyway), but she likes how he lights up when he talks about home. He is every bit as fascinated about her work and her completely unrelated university major. It’s refreshing, and a painfully easy non-first date. And she’s completely right that she would have a crush on him.

In fact, she might already have.

Tom takes a swig of his beer, partly in amazement of her academic achievements, and partly in good-natured self-deprecation. “Aw man, I could never do what you do. School was rough for me. My parents put me through Catholic school for a while and—”

“Catholic school, huh? Is that why you turned out so… perverse?” her smile grows wide and naughty.

“Hey! Don’t kinkshame me,” he nudges her elbow, quietly impressed that he didn’t spontaneously combust at the touch.

But she’s always one step ahead of him, and God, he loves that. She leans back on her forearm and lies on her side, looking like Venus under the moonlight with wits as quick as Hermes.

“I’m not! I’m just… wondering if the whole punishment and degradation thing had anything to do with your, uh, upbringing.”

“No!” He answers a little too quickly, and questions himself. “I mean… I don’t think so. Wait, do you think it was…?”

“I mean, who knows, maybe you were called into the headmaster’s office one too many times…” Y/N side-eyes him as she drinks.

“Ew, that’s gross!” he makes a face, and he rolls onto his back laughing in feigned disgust.

They inch closer together like gravity, and soon they’re lying face to face, not quite touching. Almost.

“Okay, okay, okay. How did you get into it?”

“Well, my ex-girlfriend kind of roped me into it,” he chuckles at his own little pun. “We started off easy —some spanking, some light bondage… and then worked our way up.”

Y/N nods in approval. “A woman with great taste. I respect that.”

“She is, yeah. The relationship didn’t work out, but at least I figured out what I liked, right? What I need sometimes…” he trails off.

It quiets down, and she almost doesn’t want to ask. But he meets her gaze, and it’s almost like an invitation. You’ve broken down the walls, no need to get courteous at the door anymore.

“And what’s that?”

“I need to... let go, that’s what I fuckin’ need to do sometimes,” he laughs wryly, “I get super stressed out about work and, you know, keeping things together for press tours and all this, so… getting my ass beat and brought down a few pegs feel grounding somehow. Weird, I know.”

“Not at all,” she reassures him softly. “I mean, shit, it’s what I do for a living.”

“How did you get into it?” Tom turns to her, his smile almost cocky and challenging. It’s infectious, and she can’t help smiling back. 

“Similar story, actually. An ex-girlfriend put me up to it— sweetest little sub, shame it didn’t work out. But she was the one who suggested I do this professionally, actually.”

Y/N has this way of telling so much by saying so little that endlessly amazes him. It takes him a few seconds to even choose what to process first; the fact that she had a girlfriend (which low-key blew up his straight boy mind, in the best way) or that anyone would have that experience with her for the first time and think of sharing it.

He is shocked, baffled, envious, and ultimately, thankful for it all. If it weren’t for that tiny suggestion, he wouldn’t have been here, lying under nothing but the moon and the tree, unveiling the most naked parts of himself with her in every sense but one.

“Well. You’re very good at it,” Tom finally, lamely remarks.

But she closes the gap between his hand and hers, and taps his wrist once. “Thank you.” her eyes bore a piercing gaze, but he can’t seem to meet her halfway just yet.

“I hope it’s not inappropriate of me to say, but… I haven’t stopped thinking about last night.” he toys with the sand under his fingertips, pliant to form yet stubborn to grasp. It’s a bit like this little encounter that way.

She hums, quiet and content. “Don’t worry, you’re fine. If I’m being honest... neither have I.”

He only looks up then. “Really?”

“Yes.” She meets his eye, devoid of mischief— just pure, simple, maybe a little funny truth.

They gravitate closer and closer towards each other, finding it increasingly harder to maintain this space— and for what? When their lips meet, it feels like connecting two missing pieces of the puzzle, and the more they touch, the more they make sense. The more they become one with the earth they’re tethered to and the sky over their heads.

But they’re insatiable. They’ve tasted pure bliss and they crave more, more, more.

Tom just barely pulls away from her sweet lips, his hand cupping her face like he’s afraid she might turn to dust. “Do you wanna get out of here?”

“You’re my client. I shouldn’t…” she leans her forehead against his, nuzzling his nose, even as she says it. She doesn’t want to let go and she knows it.

“I was,” he corrects her. “I mean, I’d hardly be in Bali much anyway, right?”

“Such a smartass,” she rolls her eyes, although she doesn’t fight the smile on the corner of her lips. Or the voice in her head that says, keep going until I’ve run out of reasons not to do this with you.

“I know. I was hoping you’d do something about it?” he pouts and plays up those big brown eyes, and she’s gone.

“Behave, puppy.” she goes in for another kiss, and then—

There’s buzzing in Tom’s pocket.

It’s jarring and sobering and he groans.

“Shit. I’m so sorry. One second.” he picks up the call. “Harry? Yeah, I’m just outside…”

Y/N gets up to give him some space —some room to back out before they go forward with this. Nothing would have happened, and they can go back to their own lives. No harm done. No hard feelings.

But Tom sees her stand up, immediately at a loss of her warmth in his close proximity. Brushing white sand off of her legs, akin to some bronze sculpture of a deity he doesn’t know the name of. The wind blows in her hair and her sundress, and for a moment, the moonlight hits her side profile just right. And there’s just no way he’s leaving her for anything tonight.

Harry’s voice sounds distant and distorted with background noise, and Tom cuts him off immediately. “Listen. We have the morning off, right?”

The younger boy pauses. Then tuts. “It’s that girl, innit?”

Reducing this insanely beautiful and sexy and smart person to just ‘that girl’ feels like an understatement, so Tom just chuckles. “Bro, you have no idea.”

“Ugh, fine. But if you’re late tomorrow, we’re going scuba diving without you,” Harry relents. “Take care. Don’t do anything overly stupid.”

“Bye, mate. Love you.” he hangs up the phone, and gets on his feet to catch up with her.

“Well?” She stands tall, straight, and they both feel her walls building back up to brace for what’s coming next.

“It’s my brothers. They’re going back to the hotel.”

“Oh.”

“Told ‘em to go home.”

“Oh.”

She’s quiet for a moment. Then, as sure as day, she offers her hand,

“Well then. Shall we?”

***

Y/N’s house is a stone’s throw away from the beach, tucked in a quiet street just off of the main road. The wooden gate opens up to a carport, where her silver city car and scooter are parked. Next to it is a small swimming pool against a wall covered in wisteria and climbing jasmine, with one pavilion on either side.

They walk past the first pavilion, a bright and spacious living area that opens right up to the pool. A guitar is propped against the couch, and Tom briefly pictures Y/N serenading herself on slow nights.

“Wow. You have a really nice place,” Tom remarks as she welcomes him into her second pavilion, an eclectically decorated bedroom with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the pool.

“You sound surprised.” She pulls him in, nuzzling his nose with hers.

“I just didn’t expect it to be so…”

“Not sex dungeon-y?”

He grins just a breath away from her lips, “Kind of?” and closes the gap once again.

Their lips are bound, but they feel untethered. There’s no nosy fan or paparazzi or club policy threatening to interrupt their time together. And God, he wants all the time in the world to worship this girl’s everything.

In that moment, Y/N tugs the halter ties on the back of her neck, and her little sundress falls to the floor. Tom feels it slip through his fingers and then his hands meet her skin. Soft. Warm.

He tears himself away, just to take a good look at her. “Shit…”

And there she is. No piece of clothing on her body (not even panties, Christ), and no fucks to give in her confidence or her boldness— and why should she? She’s the most alluring creature he’s ever met. 

“Like what you see?” she hums, backing him up until he’s sat on the edge of her bed.

He forgets how to use his voice for a moment, and just nods dumbly.

She doesn’t hide her amused, enamored laugh when she lets him pull her into bed. Nor the happy sighs when he peppers kisses down her neck. All over her soft chest.

“Can I… Just wanna—” he nips at her diamond-hard nipple and she moans at the sharp sensation. 

“What do you want, puppy?” she lazily runs her fingers through his messy curls.

“I love it when you call me that…” he groans, moving onto her other nipple —gentler somehow, like he’s thinking. “Wanna… fuck, I wanna taste you. Please?”

She’s definitely just as wound up as she is, yet still she can’t resist teasing him. “Oh? Have you been thinking about it since last night?”

“Fuck yeah I have. I didn’t— fuck…” he feels her thigh rubbing at his stiff cock through his pants and he nearly blacks out. “Kept thinking if you were wet when you were punishing me. Wanted to eat you out as a thank you.”

She bites her lower lip. “I’ll let you in on two things.”

He perks up, paying good attention even in his state of arousal.

“One... I was wet since you crawled over to me,” she whispers in his ear, and feels the shiver running down his spine. “And two… I wouldn’t mind that delayed gratification.”

And with that, Tom’s eyes turn pitch black as he slithers down between her legs. He spreads her thighs and dives right in— burying his face in her wet pussy.

“Holy fuck…” Y/N gapes, his mouth flooding her senses in the best ways imaginable.

And in all honesty, she has imagined how Tom eats her out a lot. She imagines him soft and tender, maybe a bit shy, but definitely eager to please— but not like this. All pussy drunk and ravenous and shameless in sucking her clit and fucking her with his tongue. Too out of it to even ask for permission like he usually does. The only thing coming out of his mouth is just muffled groans as he devours her. 

And fuck, does he devour her well.

His ministrations make her clench around nothing, and she’s fully ready to get bossy. But before she even makes a sound, she feels a finger slipping inside, and another. Long. Skillful. Beckoning her closer to orgasm.

“Yes, ohmygod. Like that, just like that…” Y/N rambles on as he strokes that spot inside her.

He curls and curls his fingers in as she falls apart, and he kisses her clit for good measure. She feels her pulse under his mouth and then everything else blurs into a haze of pleasure.

But then he doesn’t stop. He continues laving at her clit and slobbering on her weeping cunt for every drop of her arousal, pumping it in with his digits, and it sends her shaking again. 

“Baby…” she gasps, pulling his hair like it’s the hardest thing to do, “Slow down.”

He wills himself to unlatch from her pussy, but even then, he still kisses down her inner thigh. “You taste so good. Wanna make you feel so good forever, too.”

“That’s very sweet of you,” she smiles, “But what about you, huh?”

“Don’t care,” he murmurs into her skin.

But she pulls him up so he’s hovering on top of her. Chin glistening with her juices, hair sticking out in all directions, lips sucking his own wet fingers clean… he’s the prettiest little thing she’s ever seen.

“But I do.” Y/N’s hand traverses down his body, feeling his stiff cock painfully strain against his pants. “In fact, I’ve been thinking about your cock all night. You’re not gonna deprive me of that, are you?”

He vehemently shakes his head.

“Then take these off and get over here.” she sends him off with a cheeky smack in the ass, and Tom gets out of his remaining clothes even faster than last night.

He sidles up next to her and she wastes no time kissing him, tasting herself on his tongue. 

“Fuck…”

“What is it?” she wraps her hand around his hard length, firm but not too tight.

He swallows. “Wanna be inside you. Wanna— shit— wanna make you feel so good.”

He’s so gone for her pussy, and she would tease him if she didn’t find it so fucking endearing. “Go on, then.”

Tom stops, like he’s not sure he heard it right. But she puts his cock between her legs, teasing her own clit with his tip, his arousal melding with hers, and he nearly loses his mind.

“Go on. Make me feel good, puppy.”

She kisses him one last time in agreement, in challenge, and something snaps within him. He props himself up, hovering on top of her as he lines his cock into her opening. So warm, so inviting. So…

Right.

There’s no words. No games. Just the overwhelming feeling of warmth and fullness and familiar body ache that takes their breath away. He fits her so perfectly —filling her and stretching her like she’s never felt before, she can’t imagine it getting any better than this.

Until he draws back and plunges himself in again, and she realizes… it does.

Tom feels like he’s possessed. Driven by blind, searing lust that just keeps burning and burning. He can’t get enough of how breathtaking she looks writhing in pleasure. Can’t get over how amazing she feels around his fingers and his cock and his body. Knowing that he’s serving his Mistress well.

And Y/N knows that, too. She makes a mental note to reward him with lots of kisses and more, but that comes later. Now… now she’d just sit back and enjoy how pretty he is, with sweat-damp curls framing his boyishly handsome face. His mouth hangs open, making way for those gorgeous moans. Lean hips rutting against hers, every thrust driving pleasure home to her.

She traces her hand along his jawline, admiring his profile from underneath him.

“So pretty— so good for me…” her thumb caresses his lower lip. 

“All for you,” he breathes out, taking it in his mouth and sucking on it.

And as she gazes at his sunken cheeks, she fantasizes about him sucking on her strap-on before she returns the favor (another mental note she makes).

She finds her clit with her wetted finger, but he stops her.

“Wait. May I?” He looks at her with pleading eyes, kissing her wrist tenderly. “Please?”

Honestly, who is she to refuse such a request? She nods with a breathless chuckle, edging closer to her high as he draws patterns on her swollen bud.

Her mind is hazy with orgasm, but she has another idea. Her hand moves up his thigh, towards the swell of his ass, and she doesn’t miss how his breath hitches at the touch.

“May I?” she asks, trailing over the line of his backside.

He groans, eyes shuttering closed. “Yes,” he barely utters.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, please.”

“Yes, please… what?” Her nails are digging into his soft flesh, and it’s a miracle he doesn’t come right then and there.

Instead, he drops his head onto the crook of her neck. Mouth greedy on her skin, hands and hips picking up pace. Y/N strikes his ass once, quick and sharp and hard, and he blurts out,

“Yespleasemistress, Christ!”

The next thing he knows, her deft hand is splitting his cheeks and finds his taut ring of muscles and nothing else matters. Just their hands, stroking and coaxing each other, as they bring themselves closer. Towards each other.

Towards bliss.

Y/N finds Tom getting dangerously close, and captures him in a searing kiss. “Come for me, Tommy.”

He bursts into a nothingness of pleasure with her name on his mouth, and with that, she follows him into beautiful agony. Feeling full and whole and happy.

They lie there for God knows how long. There are no words; just lazy kisses and labored breaths, and bodies melded together. Y/N strokes Tom’s hair, his head resting on her chest, listening to her steadying heartbeat. Both of them trying not to count the hours until the sun rises and this encounter has to end.

If it ever does.

[acidcasualties]

I've been MIA from Tumblr for months and the end of my real-life chaos is almost at an end and I'm so looking forward to rejoining you thirsty thirsty hyenas, but in the meantime I went on a little journey that I thought you would also enjoy:

Tom being slapped. That's all.

Gahh!! Dearest @superficialdomina, I'm beyond thrilled you're back! 🤩 And oh, dear goodness, that sounds like the loveliest little trip to go to...

Is there perhaps anything in writing about... sightseeing from that little trip?

[tom-holland-parker]

She’s not me

Summary: When Tom decides to run back to you after realizing he can’t find anyone else to satisfy him the way you did, you aren’t as forgiving as he thought you would be

Pairing: Sub!Mob!tom x Mob!reader

Warning: SMUT 18+

Word count: 1400

Masterlist

You couldn’t help but smirk as you looked at the man who sat in the chair across from you. A false look of dominance on his face as he tried his best to keep his composure in front of his men. “Thomas Stanley Holland” You couldn’t help but chuckle, “ya know I really expected this. Especially after what I’ve been hearing about you”

“Boy out of the room” He demanded, without hesitation the boys moved out of the room leaving you two alone. “And what exactly have you heard?”

“Oh not much, to some people it might be considered a great thing” You got up from your chair and walked towards him, leaning back against your desk and you stared down at him, “The infamous mobster fucks his girlfriend so good every night that she can’t help but scream his name”

Tom couldn’t keep eye contact, suddenly finding the thread on the chair more interesting than whatever it was you were about to say. You rolled your eyes, grabbing his chin and forcing him to look at you. His brown eyes stared at you, filled with anger and lust. “But I know the real you and I know that you wouldn’t be here if you were truly getting what you want”

Tom pulled his face from your grip, “you have no idea what you’re talking about”

“oh but I do” You mockingly pouted at him as you got up from your desk. Letting out a deep breath you began to circle around Tom’s chair, watching as his grip on the arm rest got tired, he was holding back from you, all he needed was a little push. You smiled leaning down til your lips were centimeters from his ear. 

“why don’t you tell me all about it” You whispered in his ear, “tell me, does she fuck you like I do? Does she do all the things I used to do?”

Tom’s breath hitched unsure if he should talk. You chuckle, as you made your way back to the front of him, leaning down til your face is inches from his, “she doesn’t, does she? I bet every time she touches you, you can’t help but think about me”

A small whimper escaped Tom’s mouth, the sound making you wet. You smiled knowing he was so close to losing it, “I bet you go home every night and try to get her to do the things I used to do to you” You watched as Tom bit his lip, “But she can’t. And why is that?”

“Because she’s not you” Tom whimpered as he began to squirm in his seat. You didn’t even have to look down to know he was hard.

“That’s right, she’s not me and she’ll never be able to touch you the way that I did, why is that?”

Tom remained silent, still stubborn to answer. You let out an annoyed breath, your fingers trailing through his hair to lightly pull it so he could look up at you, “why is that?”

“Because only you can make me feel that good” He whined. You chuckled, “that’s right, no one else can make you feel as good as I do. That’s why you came here isn’t it? You want me to make you feel good”

Tom nodded, the anger from his eyes fading into full blown need, “please”

“You know I hated when you left” You stood up straight, letting out a deep breath as you stared down at the man in front of you, “because I knew when you inevitably came back you’d forget everything I taught you”

“But Mis-” Tom began but was shut up when you placed your finger to his mouth. You opened the drawer in your desk that held the handcuffs you kept for times like this. “Hands behind your back”

“But-”

“Don’t make me ask twice, now do as I say or I’ll leave you with nothing”

Tom did as you said, placing his hand behind him and waited for further instructions. You quickly placed him in handcuffs, giving it a soft tug to test the resistance, “now I don’t think you’re desperate enough, so you’re going to sit there watching me touch myself and maybe if you’re a good boy I’ll consider treating you”

You took off your skirt throwing it across the room before slowly taking off your black lace thong. Tom whimpered as his eyes landed on your glistening cunt. You sat on the desk, legs spread as you tossed the underwear at Tom, enjoying the way that he groaned when it landed on his lap.

His eyes never left your pussy as you began to circle your clit occasionally fingering yourself, “oh baby if only you could feel me, I’m so wet” You moaned as your fingers moved faster against your clit chasing your orgasm. Tom's breath was heavy as he watching your walls clench around your fingers, wishing it was his cock. He knew you were close from the way your hip bucked into your hand. He licked his lips wishing he could taste you. 

"Please" he begged, "please let me touch you. I want a taste, please miss"

You came with a loud moan, your cum gathering on your fingers, "you want a taste baby" you taunted him, holding your fingers to his face but pulling back before he could put them in his mouth, "too bad" 

Tom whined as he watched you insert your fingers into your mouth, sucking and licking your cum off your fingers. 

"Stop whining or I'll keep you locked to that chair and make you watch me fuck someone else" you picked up your underwear and shoved them into his mouth, enjoying the muffled groans that left his gagged mouth.

You repeated this 3 more times watching as he became more and more desperate for your touch. His moans became louds and incoherent as he begged. 

"What do you want" you said as you pulled your saliva underwear out his mouth, smiling as you watched his spit trail down his chin 

"Please miss," he cried out, "I'll be a good boy, can I please taste you?" You looked down at the weeping man in front of you, his erection painfully throbbing in his pants, you sighed, sticking your fingers in his mouth. 

Tom closed his eyes, savoring the taste of your cum covered fingers as his tongue swirled around them. He let out a pathetic whine when you removed them from his mouth but moaned as you kissed him roughly, your tongue exploring his mouth.

You quickly pulled away, bending down to unzip his pants and pull his swollen cock out. It was throbbing in your hand, the tip red and dripping with pre cum. Tom let out a loud moan as your thumb circled the tip, spreading the pre cum all over.

"Are you gonna be my good boy and let me cum on your cock"

"Yes please yes I'll be your good boy" tears were forming in his eyes as you straddled his lap and rubbed the tip against your wet folds. Without warning you sank down on his cock, a loud moan escaping both your mouths. You wasted no time bouncing on his cock watching as he struggled against the handcuffs. He wanted to touch you but you wouldn't allow it, not after all the bullshit he put you through. 

One hand rested on his neck, squeezing it hard as the other rubbed circles on your clit. You were close, after making yourself cum 4 times your pussy was so sensitive. “Fuck baby cum for me, I want you to fill me up like a good boy” You moaned as you came for the 5th time that night. Tom didn’t need to be told twice as he came in you, his teeth biting down on your shoulder to muffle the loud scream that left his mouth.

You quickly hopped off his lap, moving to undo the handcuffs, Tom sat in the chair waiting for you to say something. You smiled at his fucked out expression, “I was serious when I said it hurt when you left. So next time you think about leaving just know I won’t take you back so easily”

“Yes, miss,” He said, trying to catch his breath. 

You smiled, “good, now go home and think about ways to make it up to me”

----

tags: 

@writesforholland @wildxwidow @nelly-belly @marvelgurl @marvelxholland @crybabyddl