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When a man wears fishnets and shorts, what happens next is not my fault

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sirius who has you full to the brim of his cock, making you whine into the crook of his shoulder. “c-can’t take anyone sirius.” you hiccup, pawing at his back. his hands abuse your ass, all red from his smacks. the lewd, wet sounds echoing in the room only fuels Sirius more, whispering in your ear. “give me another one dove. just one more yeah?”

he guides your mouth onto his, kissing away the fat tears rolling down your cheeks. you kiss his cheek and cry into his shoulder. this must be your 10th orgasm yet he wants just one more. but wasn’t that what he said an hour ago? 🕊️

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Tomarrymort Recs by aethon 🐍

Hi! Thank you for your interest in this blog 🤍 This is a rec blog focused exclusively on Tomarrymort recs.

If you're looking for Tomarrymort rec lists, keep reading! I will keep this master list of links updated as I post more rec lists to this blog.

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My standard list of rec list disclaimers:

• Please mind all tags and warnings on AO3 before reading (including CCNTW, explanation here). I strive to include a diverse range of fic genres and ratings in my rec lists, so you'll come across lighter fare such as fluff and crack fics, along with fics that may cover darker themes. • Recs are always listed in alphabetical order by title. • Because I'm reccing Tomarrymort ship fics (all ratings from G through E) rather than gen fics, I aim to find fics where both characters in the ship are a meaningful part of the story; there isn't significant focus dedicated to side ships for Harry or Tom before getting to the endgame ship; and the Tomarrymort ship is central to the story. • Finally, this blog is not a fic-finding blog, but please visit our friends at @findingtomarrymort if you're having trouble locating a specific fic!

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Tomarrymort Recs Master List

I. Longfic Recs

Part 1 — Tomarrymort Beginner Pack (10 fics) Part 2 — Intermediate Pack (16 fics) Part 3 — Advanced Pack (12 fics)

II. Themed Rec Lists

Harry-Raises-Tom Riddle recs (14 fics) Voldemort-Raises-Harry recs (13 fics) Omega Tom Riddle | Voldemort recs (9 fics) Fem Tomarrymort (F/F) recs (15 fics) (coming soon) Dead Dove Tomarrymort recs

III. Answered Asks

Professor Potter recs (13 fics) Professor Riddle recs (12 fics) Tom & Harry Co-parenting recs (8 fics) Creature Fic (naga, vampire, mermaid, werewolf, veela) recs (25 fics) Unhinged/Dark Harry recs (13 fics) Independent/Strong-Willed Harry recs (10 fics) 1940s-era Tomarrymort recs (23 fics) Tomarrymort crack recs (34 fics) Tomarrymort casefic/mystery recs (15 fics) (coming soon) Snake-Like Voldemort recs

IV. Recs by Publication Date

24 Tomarrymort Recs for 2022 (24 fics) Jan 2023 recs (10 fics) Feb 2023 recs (30 fics)

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some of you on here send smut requests like a victorian man seeing ankle for the first time i swear

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I'm in a (pre-)serial killer au mood

Having thoughts of Dean Winchester, still being trained to raise his baby brother because his mother got murdered and his father went psycho.

Years in the orphanage, everyone knew not to separate one brother from the other. The last time a nun attempted to put those two in separate rooms (Dean was fifteen by then and Sam eleven), Sam Winchester cried into the night and begged for his brother. He managed to hurt himself too by scratching on the door.

Dean, obviously, decided to make his bunker buddy bleed and cry for help so that someone would open his door too.

They share everything together and a second apart would get those boys in trouble. But the moment when Dean turned eighteen, he ran away with Sam into the night.

They found their dad's old car stashed away somewhere because someone had to keep it clean. Dean didn't know how to drive but he was sure as hell learning a few weeks before his escape. Plus, he had to know to keep his baby brother safe.

His baby brother was so polite and behaved in the passenger seat, always asking quiet questions once on the road and looking out the window every other time.

Of course, growing older the Winchester boys picked up a bad habit. Going from town to town wasn't easy, so who would blame the two if they started pickpocketing for a living? It was small work at first, but then the two learned about the art of gambling.

Gambling was nice, Dean always won. But sometimes when his eyes were on the prize, Sammy was being dragged somewhere else. Dean practically threw away everything he had just to catch even a small glimpse of the mop of a head.

He did find Sam. He found Sam with an odd man in an alleyway. Of course, Dean had to protect his baby brother. He was the only one who can. It wasn't his fault that slitting that monster's throat and stabbing him even after his death felt so good.

And Sam, oh Sam, the sweet boy just hugged Dean in desperation. Not for him to stop, of course not. He just missed Dean so much.

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Dean: What does ‘smd’ mean?

Sam: Suck my dick.

Dean *getting on his knees*: Oh wow okay. Could have answered my question first.

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They're in the back of the impala. They've been on the road 6 hours so far, with another 6 to go at least, according to dad.

Sam is pretending to be asleep, just to have an excuse to bury his face in the crook of Dean's neck. It's easier to muffle noises that try to escape, biting down on his brothers collar bone to stop the moans. Any noise that does escape can be written off as odd sleep noises.

There's an old raggedy blanket draped over the both of them. It used to line Sam's crib when he was a baby, but neither want to think about that too closely. Not while it's being used to hide Sam's open jeans.

Dean moves his hand up and down slowly, agonisingly stretched out as he gradually jerks Sam off. He can feel his baby brother twitching against him, and he has his free hand pressing firmly against Sam's upper thigh to stop him bucking his hips.

John looks into the rear view mirror, and Dean stares right back, face neutral as his hand continues to move. As Sam continues to burrow deeper into his neck, saliva painting over his collar.

It's dad who breaks the gaze first, and there's a sort of haunted look in his eyes when he looks at them these days, one so similiar to the one he wore for months after losing mom, and Dean can't help but think maybe it's because he believes part of them have been lost too.

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Dean really loved pushing their luck.

His favourite thing was marking up his baby brother, sucking hickeys over his jaw and neck until everyone could tell just by looking at Sam that he was a little slut. That he was the type of boy to drop straight to his knees without being asked, 15 year old baby face be damned.

Sam would have his neck marked to hell, and dad would always scowl dissaprovingly at his youngest. Dean would watch him eyeing Sam with something almost concerned, cataloguing every pretty little mark. He loved watching Sam burn bright red as John questioned him, gave him lecturers about safe sex and not knocking up girls. About keeping it in his pants, because sure, him and dad? They were allowed to hook up with nameless pretty girls, but Sam was still just 15 and the baby of the family.

If only dad knew how wrong that was. There wasn't anything innocent left in his baby brother. The monsters had taken some of it, and Dean had taken the rest with a smile on his face and his hands down his little brothers pants.

He'd lecture Sam all the while Dean was sat next to him with fingers grabbing his thigh under the table, travelling between Sam's legs that fell open with such delicious obedience, like a reflex.

He starts doing it again when Sam gets back on the road with him after Stanford, and Sam remarks with a sigh about how they aren't kids anymore, how Dean is far too old to be giving out hickeys.

He doesn't give a shit. He just laughs low against Sam's neck, and continues nipping at the soft flesh as Sam moans, and he wonders absently if he ever got Jess to mark him like this.

The very idea makes Dean suck and bite harder, and the next day even he's willing to admit he went a bit far. Sam's neck had looked like a painting of purple and blue, and he had refused to leave the motel because even the concealer Dean had grabbed from the nearby drug store wouldn't do shit to cover it up.

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"Seriously? You're 34 years old." Sam teased, but he gasped when Dean bit down on his pulse point, sucked the skin and darted his tongue to lick over it.

"And you're the 30 year old who still has the sex drive of a 16 year old." Dean teased right back, face still pressed against Sam's neck.

"Cas will see, and Jack. We-" Dean cut him off with a kiss, swallowing up his objections.

"That's the point, baby." Dean hummed with a grin, and Sam scowled.

"You're a possessive asshole." He said, and Dean chuckled.

"And you love me for it." He responded, before going to town again on Sam's neck.

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The next morning when Jack asked with great alarm about what attacked Sam, Dean almost spits out his coffee from laughing. Sam just scowls, mumbles 'nothing' while his face goes cherry red just like it did when he was 15.

And honestly? Dean didn't think he'd ever been so in love in his life.

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Ok but obviously when Sam and Dean are younger and hooking up, they hide it from John.

And Dean hasn't noticed, but Sam has.

Dad has been watching them almost warily recently. His eyes are glued to them at all times, brows furrowed when he sees them sitting close enough for their thighs to touch.

And Sam knows maybe he should go tell Dean. Tell him it might be time to stop, except he's 16. He's pissed at dad for the crappy hand they got dealt in life, and all his rebellion in the world just seems to get him crappy punishments and lecturers.

And this? This was quite literally the biggest fuck you Sam could give to him.

It's so stupid, and he knows if Dean knew he would be freaking the hell out, but he hasn't noticed and Sam's getting quite a kick out of the idea. Of showing dad that he's getting fucked by his big brother, and it's all his fault really, because he loves Dean far too much than he ought to, because of the fucked up way John dragged them up.

He links their fingers under diner tables, and Dean doesn't question it. Just grips his hand right back and continues his lunch with one hand, talking away while oblivious to the stare dad is directing at their arms as they disappear beneath the table.

They've always had some issues with personal space, but Sam really tries to up his game. He's practically sitting on Dean's lap on Bobby's couch, and when he leans across Dean's thighs to reach his book on the floor, dad straight up leaves the room. Sam smirks, and Dean is too focused on whatever is playing on the TV to notice the events that just transpired.

He keeps it up for weeks. He stumbles into Dean a few too many times to be natural, and his brother grips his waist to steady him. He wipes food from his face, and asks to try some of his pie even if he really has no interest in the stuff, because dads face is a fucking picture when Dean lifts a spoon to his mouth, and he really makes sure to groan and lick up the cream. It even has Dean squirming in his seat, and Sam's fairly certain dad picked up on that too.

It all comes to a head soon enough, and honestly? This time, Sam wasn't planning it.

He was riding Dean's lap like his life depended on it, his big brother burying his face in his neck while Sam grips at his shoulders. He doesn't hear the impala pull up, but he sees the door open.

He sees John staring through the crack, and his expression is one of pure shock, far more grim than Sam had seen him wear on any hunt.

And Sam just grabs on tighter, staring John in the eye as he moans Dean's name and slams back down onto his brothers cock.

"God, Sammy. So fucking amazing baby."

The door shuts silently, and when John returns a few hours later reaking of whiskey, Dean is asleep, all the evidence is gone, and Sam is pretending to be asleep.

Sam can't help but feel a sick sense of satisfaction.

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@jegulus-microfic

22 / convict / 1476 words / NSFW / explicit sexual content

“I’m not wearing this,” Regulus complained immediately. He was holding up a pair of thong underwear, white and grey horizontal stripes across it. There was a small patch sewn into the waistband — an inmate number.

“Do you want to be the cop instead?” James asked, holding up his outfit. His was a pair of deep navy booty shorts and a button down crop top. It came with a small hat with a gold star on the front, and a pair of plush black handcuffs.

“Absolutely not, James.”

“Fine.” James smiled, like he had just won the jackpot. “Then you have to be the convict.”

Regulus huffed. He didn’t know why James was so adamant about role playing anyway, but he supposed if James ended up naked in the end, what difference did it make?

“Fine.”

Regulus stormed off to the bathroom, following James instructions to put it on immediately, doing his best to only focus on the fact that he was about sixty seconds from seeing that man in booty shorts.

Suddenly there was a loud bang at the door, enough to startle Regulus into nearly falling over, second leg barely through his jeans he was sliding on over the costume.

“It’s the cops, open up!”

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

“Is there a problem, off—,” Regulus started to ask, but was immediately cut off by the sight of James in that outfit. “Holy shit, James.”

“It’s Officer Potter, to you,” James said, blushing. “There have been some complaints recently, I’m going to have to take you in for questioning,” he demanded, hands on his hips.

Regulus sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, deciding this game wasn’t so bad after all. “Okay, Officer Potter.”

James led Regulus to the back of their house and into their bedroom, demanding he be stripped down. “All of our inmates are required to wear the same prison uniform,” he tacked on, puffing out his chest. James reached forward and grabbed at the bottom hem of Regulus’ t-shirt, pulling it up and over his head.

“Hands behind your head,” James said, and Regulus had to hold back a snicker. James was a lot of things, but assertive was not one of them.

Not with Regulus anyway.

Regulus obliged, putting his hands behind his head, palms flush against his dark curls. He watched as James opened each handcuff before disappearing behind him, snicking each cuff shut around each wrist.

“Pants off next,” James said, moving back to Regulus’ front, undoing the button of his jeans and sliding them down. “This is certainly more appropriate,” James said stoically, gesturing to Regulus’ thong.

“What were these complaints for, Officer?” Regulus asked, looking down at James. James looked incredible in the crop top he chose, a piece of clothing that Regulus never would have anticipated to turn him on so much.

“Noise complaints,” James said, shaking his head as if he was truly disappointed. “I’m going to have to punish you, and I expect you to stay quiet.”

“Where would you like me to take that punishment?” Regulus asked, small smirk playing on his lips.

James gestured with a small nod. “Get on the bed, facing up. I want your hands against the headboard.” Regulus obliged, settling his hands on either side of a single dowel lining their spindle headboard, fuzzy handcuffs still forcing them close together.

James climbed over Regulus, straddling his torso as he reached up to fix the handcuffs, wrapping the center chain around the post before clasping it around both wrists once more.

He slid down Regulus’ body and settled between his legs, pressing his lips to the fabric covering Regulus’ cock. He exhaled hot puffs of air along his length, pressed his wet tongue to the tip.

Regulus moaned softly at the sensation, at the blood rushing straight to his cock. He reached down to card his fingers through James’ hair, only to feel the yank of metal and fur against his wrist. He whimpered, wanting to touch James so badly, wanting to guide his head just a bit lower, to force more pressure against his growing cock even with the underwear still on.

After a few moments, James pulled Regulus’ cock out from its confines, immediately licking a strip up the underside, and Regulus unable to hold back the groan that was let loose from deep down in his chest. Regulus hadn’t been expecting him to dive in so quickly; James was usually so gentle and explorative to start.

Not that Regulus was complaining.

James pulled his mouth off of Regulus’ cock just as quickly as he had taken it into his mouth, looking up at Regulus and tutting. “Quiet, or I’ll have to punish you worse than this.”

Regulus liked this James. He nodded.

The first few minutes that James took Regulus in his mourh, he was quiet. So quiet he very well could’ve been not enjoying himself.

But he was — of course he was, but he wanted more.

He let out a moan, guttural and primal and loud.

James jerked his head off of Regulus’ cock, and Regulus nearly grinned at him — a wide smile to rival one of James’ — if he thought he would still get what he was after.

“I told you if you couldn’t keep quiet, I would have to punish you worse, Regulus Black.”

Regulus nodded sweetly. “Whatever you think you need to do, sir.”

James slid his shorts off and settled onto his haunches, pouring lube on his hands and his cock before getting to work stretching Regulus out. Regulus bit his lip, stifling the moans he felt trying to push their way out, quieting all of the James’ and the pleases, until James was finally pressing his cock inside of him.

“That’s a good boy, being so quiet for me now,” James encouraged, grabbing ahold of Regulus’ hips, fingertips digging into his flesh. “Did you learn your lesson? Not to be so fucking loud where everyone can hear you?”

It would be funny that James asked that question — so loud, as he fucked Regulus’ hard, headboard slamming into a shared wall over and over — if not for how good it felt, how empowered James looked in that obscene crop top.

“Y-yes, officer,” Regulus said in a whisper. James reached down and took Regulus’ cock in his fist, stroking him at just the right pace to match his own hips.

Regulus cried out, sound coming unbidden, and James immediately released his grip around Regulus’ cock, leaving it throbbing and leaking at the tip. “Looks like you don’t deserve that after all.” He quirked a brow. “Do you need me to cover your mouth to make sure you keep quiet?”

Regulus shook his head.

“Or maybe I should choke you a bit, steal your breath so you can’t cry out like that?”

James phrased it as a question, but Regulus couldn’t answer — not with James still thrusting into him, not with the promise of that.

He let out a little mewl of assent, the sound making James lips upturn, perfect smile flashing back at Regulus as he reached a hand forward and wrapped his fingers around Regulus’ throat. “Now I want you to stay silent as I make you come all over your chest, do you hear me?”

Regulus managed a small nod, even with James’ fingers curled around his neck, pinning him to the bed. He craned his neck back just a bit, giving James more access, and watched as James continued to move above him.

He was beautiful in his uniform, so confident and proud to have brought this to fruition, to have Regulus quite literally under his thumb.

James increased his pace, thrusting into Regulus hard, hand tightening until Regulus was certain he would have small bruises dotting the side of his neck — little fingerprints as evidence of his punishment for being too loud.

All at once, James was groaning, a small grimace on his face, contorting before settling into something beautiful as he came inside Regulus. James’ entire body slackened just a bit, and Regulus sucked in gulps of air as he followed James over the edge, biting his lip as hard as he could to keep from crying out.

James looked up at Regulus, panting softly, sweat dotting his brow. “Good boy, Reg,” James said, only half breaking character. “You were so quiet for me.”

James pressed a soft kiss to Regulus’ lips.

“James,” Regulus said in response. “Why do you look so fucking good in that stupid shirt?”

James laughed. “I don’t know, Reg, but I’m dying to see what it looks like on you.”

Regulus wasn’t entirely sold on the idea of him playing the cop role, but if he got to bend James over and punish him, he was sure it wouldn’t be so bad, after all.

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This ^^^

It doesn’t have to be a good kink to be a kink

You don’t have to have that kink for it to be a kink

You don’t have to acknowledge or like a kink for it to be a kink

I love when takes have 0 nuance. (sarcasm)

Incest can be a kink. Anything can be a kink. The answer to the question of, "is incest a kink?" is not yes or no. It's sometimes, it's maybe, it's it can be, it's it depends.

It's not a good idea to treat things like this as black and white because it's not a black and white issue.

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Walk him like a dog

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NSFW

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mean husband!Regulus Black who swears that every time he spills his cum into you, it's just his duty as a Lord so you can give him his pureblood heir. It's not because of how cute the dress looked on you and it would look even cuter on you when you're pregnant.

mean husband!Regulus Black who gets hard when you smile at him so prettily and wants to wreck you whenever you insult him ten times worse than he does. you're not afraid of him, he loves that. Thrives on the fact that he can make your bratty mouth drool with his fingers and tongue only.

mean husband!Regulus Black who loves you, truly loves you but won't ever admit it out loud unless you're unconscious from a heavy session of getting bred and he kisses your forehead, oh so gently, and whispers, "My darling, my love." He kisses your cheek, "Oh, how you have my heart, sweet." He is unaware of the fact that sometimes you're aware and that you hear his words and it just makes you fall harder for him every time.