Oneshots by worldoftom [t.h. x female]

Camera Work *

Summary: Ping! Can you help me with something upstairs?

Words: 5,268

Warnings: oral (f and m receiving), fingering, intercourse, dirty talk

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Ping!

You: Can you help me with something upstairs?

Tom blinks dumbfoundedly at his phone. He doesn't understand why you're texting him when you're in the same house, but if this is the game you're playing, who is he not to text back?

Tom: I'll be right up

The label turns to read in the same second.

The house is quiet as he climbs up the stairs, at least if it wasn't for the stupid creak on the fifth step that he keeps wanting to get checked out and never did. It's Saturday night, and you're staying over the weekend, something you've done more and more often since you two officially started dating. Tom keeps wanting to ask you to move in, after all your apartment is smaller, you're rarely there, and he's often away due to work, but he never found the proper words or the perfect occasion to ask. It'll come at some point, he's sure of it.

Right now, he looks for you in the office because you were using your laptop there to finish up something urgent for work, but the room is empty now, and your laptop is nowhere to be seen. Then he peeks into the bathroom, just in case. Empty.

Which means you have to be in the bedroom. And yeah, okay, he can see where this is going.

"Whoever said men always have their minds in the gutter never met you," he mutters to himself, shaking his head amusedly.

He thinks back to how the two of you have literally spent the whole time since last night flirting and teasing each other with little touches here and there, your hands in his overly sensitive left ear, his hands on the small of your back as per usual, except this time he would trickle his fingers under your shirt to feel your skin and rub shapeless patterns into it. There was the initially casual turned filthy watching of a movie this morning, still in bed, with the characters delivering romantic lines on screen and your lips leaving sweet trails of hellfire down his neck. There was also a fleeting moment of passion after you came out of the shower, smelling like flowers and fruit, which he couldn't ignore without burying his nose under your ear and pulling you into him, so close your skin was burning through his bones.

The walk-in closet is empty and the lights are off, so he turns past the doorway and steps into the actual bedroom where the lights are, well, dimmed. Definitely not an innocent sign.

And yeah. Not innocent, indeed.

There you are, on your knees on the bed, full body skin glistening under the soft lighting, your forearms on the mattress as you type something into your phone.

Ping!

You: You wanna hit record?

"Hit record?" Tom asks out loud and you widen your eyes, brows wiggling excitedly. Your head tilts to the right and then he sees it. Your laptop is on his dresser, a camera app open and ready to start recording. "Holy shit."

"Rumor has it you wanted to film a sex scene for work and they wouldn't let you, so..."

Needless to say, Tom strips his t-shirt in record time, leaving his sweatpants on for now since he's not really hard yet. He has an idea, though, which will definitely direct all of his blood south.

He hits the red button on the laptop and turns to you, your head facing the headboard, eyes fixed on the wall, ass up, shoulders down, waiting for him, and he strolls towards the bed as predator-like as he can.