#tom make up x you

[sherifftillman]

Worth the Wait

Pairing: Tom Grant x f!bartender!Reader Genre: smut Tags:Make Up (film), 18+ (minors DNI), alcohol consumption, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), unprotected piv (pulling out) Summary: Your favourite customer has a confession to make, that he's very eager to. You wish you could believe him - if only he weren't drunk every time he saw you. Word count:7.1k A/N: God, this fic's been a long time in the making! I started writing it months ago, but then @choke-me-eddie wrote the phenomenal Jack Daniels and Coke and I gave myself massive imposter syndrome for ages lol, but one day I was going through my WIPs folder and something told me to start this up again. So, here it is! PS: the amount of time i spent on making that gif look like he's getting himself off for more than like 4 frames before feckin roof gets in the way, as naturally as i could get it, is between me and god. 😂

“Hello again, gorgeous,” your favourite voice slurs from the other side of the bar.

You see big, warm brown eyes greet you along with the biggest grin you’ve seen all day and your heart melts, despite the pang of disappointment. “Hello yourself, sweetheart. Back to drown more of your troubles?”

“Can I not just come over to my favourite pub and chat to my favourite barmaid, with no ulterior motive?” he pouts, leaning an elbow on the bar so he can rest his chin on his fist, a trademark pose for Tom.

“Not when you’re already pretty wavy,” you point out with raised eyebrows, wafting the air in front of him. “I can smell the Fosters on you a mile off. Didn’t take you for a piss drinker.”

He pulls a face, “Weren’t my doing, honest. Some of the blokes at work decided to get together an’ have dinner somewhere, an’ they bought everyone a pint each without asking us. I had to sneak in a couple of shots to take the taste away and then they bought another, so I had to drink even more.”

“Your life is so hard, babe,” you pout patronisingly, and he sticks his tongue out at you in response. You pour him a glass of water and slide it over to him. “Here. On the house, and that’s a deal only my favourite customers get.”

He looks at you disbelievingly. “As if water isn’t free for everybody, good one.” You smile back at him with just as much snark as he’s giving you as he drinks it all down in one go, and you take the excuse to watch his throat bob while he’s distracted.

You’ve always had a soft spot for Tom. Ever since the poor sod ended up at your pub following the break-up between him and his childhood sweetheart. You’d heard it all about Ruth, and her new friend Jade, and all of the accusations Ruth would make against Tom just to turn around and do the very same to him with Jade. The last time he visited became a real turning point, when he’d gotten especially drunk and admitted to you that he’d been questioning his attraction to her, himself.

“I don’t even know what it was that turned me off, you know. Or maybe it was never even there.”

“Well, is she your type? What kind of person are you usually into?”

“Pretty girls. Like you,” he drawled, resting his chin on his fist.

“Nice try, Mr Grant. I’d believe you if you weren’t so wasted,” you smirked.

“Ooh, Mr Grant, so formal. How’d you know that, anyway?”

“Your last name? Let’s see, your ID, your bank card… ’S not that difficult to find out.”

“Yeah, but you remembered it. I think you fancy me, too,” he grinned smugly.

“Too bad you’ll never know,” you shook your head, and he pouted at you.

“Not even gonna tell me? Tease.”

“Even if I did, there’s no way you’d remember in the morning, so there’s no point, is there?” you shrugged.

“Bet I would. I’d never forget something if it were about you,” he simpered.

You tried to ignore the butterflies swarming in your stomach and managed to keep your composure as you replied, “Alright, then, if you still feel the same way about me, but stone cold sober, I’ll give you my number. But only then.”

Tom had wanted to stay true to his promise so badly. He’d wanted nothing more than to just sit and watch you work and flirt relentlessly with you. No liquid courage needed. But of course it was Barry’s birthday, and Barry wanted all the lads together for dinner. Tom had felt honoured to finally be included as one of the lads, but it came at a price. A price that he felt too tipsy to then go back to his caravan, all alone with his thoughts. Only one person usually made him feel better in this state. And he’d promised you a sober confession. Yet here he was, giving you the exact opposite.

“Can I ’ave another one?” he asks, holding the glass out to you.

You kiss your teeth and shake your head, lightly lilting, “Alright, but soon enough, I am gonna have to start charging you.”

He narrows his eyes. “Water don’t cost nothing, though. We already established that, remember?” Still in his hand, he taps the empty glass against his head as you take out a fresh one for him.

“So, maybe I’ll have to think of other ways to have you pay for my efforts,” you smirk, putting the water down and resting your hands on your edge of the bar, shifting your weight onto your wrists.

“Oh, yeah?” Tom leans forward, intrigued, a coy smile playing on his lips. “What’s that, then?”

You wrinkle your nose, "Depends what you've got to offer."

"Just. This," Tom states as he steps back and gestures at himself with both hands, the slur that’s still present in his voice betraying him.

You sigh. "Remember the rule, Tommy boy," you waggle your eyebrows at him, and he groans.

"Yeah. I know,” he pouts as he grabs the glass with a frustrated force and starts chugging again.

You look at him with hopeful eyes. “There’s always next time, eh.”

~~~

“So, let me get this straight,” your best friend stops you, looking up in disbelief at the location you’d chosen. “You decided to get us all to meet up for drinks, for your birthday, and we could have gone anywhere. And you choose your work?!”

“Well, yeah, I’m not allowed to use my staff discount while I’m on shift, obviously, so why not take advantage of it on my big day, eh?!” You grin. 

She rolls her eyes, “You’re a menace.”

“Yeah, but you put up with me,” you rest your chin on her shoulder, still beaming from ear to ear as you both stumble into the pub together.

“Ooh, Tommy the Tank Engine at 2 o’clock,” your best friend giggles, pointing over at a group of men that, sure enough, includes Tom himself.

“Don’t point, dickhead!” You hush, grabbing her hand and shoving it back to her side. “Oh, bless him, look at him. Now, listen, you cannot let me get so drunk that I make a tit of myself in front of him, okay? I’ve got a - you know, a -” You wave your hand around in front of you, trying to think of a word. “Not quite reputation, but you know what I mean. A thing we’ve got.”

“I don’t think that I do,” she laughs, shaking her head. “Unless you mean, like… Because you’ve told him you’ll only believe him if he’s sober, you don’t wanna flirt with him while you’re drunk.”

“You get me,” you smile wistfully as you lean against her, cuddling up to her.

Giggling again, she shoves you away. “Gerroff, unless you really wanna give him the wrong impression! Besides, I say go for it, anyway. Ride that train,” she mimics pulling a steam train whistle and you scold her as you shove her towards the bar.

You meet up with the rest of your friends and have a shot with them. One of your regulars wishes you a happy birthday and buys you another. One of your coworkers gives you another one on the house.

You’ve totally forgotten who else was even here, until after your best friend insists on buying you your favourite cocktail, and as you shuffle between other people waiting at the bar to let others get out, you feel your back collide with the solid weight of someone else’s chest, followed by an all-too-familiar, “Easy, tiger!”

You take a deep breath in and look at your best friend in bewilderment before steeling yourself and pivoting to look at Tom, “Oh my god, hi! I’m so sorry!”

“’S alright. Someone’s having a good night, aren’t they?” He smiles down at you.

“It’s her birthday, you know!” Your best friend shouts over at him, and he gives a thoughtful frown back, raising his eyebrows at her.

“I did not know that, as a matter of fact! S’pose I better do my rightful duty and get the birthday girl a drink, too, shouldn’t I?”

“Trying to get me drunk, now, are ya? I see your game, Mr Grant,” you tease, earning a sly grin from him and a side-eye from your best friend.

“Fair’s fair, you’ve seen me plastered enough times,” he waggles his eyebrows at you. “What’s your poison, ladies?”

Tom buys both yours and your best friend’s drinks for you, and orders something for himself while your friend sneaks away to leave you both to it, though you don’t realise it. You frown when you see Tom pick up a full pint glass of Coke and point at it. “Big glass for a mixed drink.”

“Yeah. Almost as though it isn’t,” he smirks, moving his glass to chime it against yours. “Happy birthday, love.”

Though your heart sinks at the idea that he really did try to keep to his word tonight, you decide to keep up the playful rapport the two of you know so well. Punctuating your first three words each with a poke to the middle of his chest, you grin slyly, “I think you are just looking for an excuse to see me drunk, for once.”

Running two of his fingers alternately up your shoulder at his first three words, he mimics your tone, “I think you are just looking for an excuse to touch me.” He rests his wrist on your shoulder, and the fingertips that ghost the skin on your back send shivers all through you.

“Says the man who’s keeping his arm there,” you reply with a smug lipped smile, and he shrugs, that fake frown making another appearance on his face.

“Alright, I guess if you don’t want it,” he slides his arm away from you tantalisingly slowly, his eyes locked onto yours the whole time. You whimper involuntarily, your voice betraying you, when his fingertips are the only thing dragging against you. With a proud chuckle, he rests the heel of his hand back on your shoulder again, his fingertips leaving goosebumps where they ghost against the skin left exposed from the strap of your dress. “You should really get back to your friends now.”

“Not without you,” you pull a face at him, “not after all this! You bought the two of us a drink, remember, you can’t just leave us now!”

He smiles in quiet pride. “What would I tell all my mates, eh? That I’m abandoning them?”

“They can come over, too!” you counter. “My friends won’t mind, they’d love extra company.”

“Why, do you plan on being distracted all night?” he asks, raising his eyebrows at you again.

“Where’s this Tom been hiding then, anyway, eh?” you buffer his question with your own. “How come I don’t see this version of you when I’m sober? Am I that intimidating?”

“Ooh, yeah, dead scary,” Tom answers sarcastically, shaking his head and furrowing his brow, but he laughs when you waggle your fingers in a jokingly haunting manner.

“Will you at least drink with me, so I’m not the only one making an arse of myself?” you pout, trying to give him your best doe eyes.

“But then who will be here to document all your arse-ry?” Tom starts, but you interrupt.

“That’s not a word!”

“Piss off, drunky, how do you know?” he teases, laughing at your offended gasp. “No, if you’re gonna make a scene, I wanna make sure my head is crystal clear so I can lord it over you for the rest of time. As it is, I’m sure you’ve got plenty of material to embarrass me with tonight,” he flashes his eyes at you as you approach his friend group, waving your own over.

You all eventually commandeer your own corner of the pub, you and Tom sat on one of the old leather sofas as the other is crammed with a mix of both his friends and yours, as well as others being peppered around on regular dining chairs. After asking around, and others insisting that they’re fine where they are, thereby refusing your invitation to join you and Tom on the sofa, your legs start to ache. Not being able to find enough floor space to stretch them out adequately, you simply decide to drape them across Tom’s lap, which he takes to naturally. 

He doesn’t even acknowledge the fact that they’re there at first, which has your mind turning over and over, until he starts gently, absent-mindedly stroking his fingertips up and down your leg. The tingles that shot through you at his touch earlier return again. He notices your longing stare in his direction and, without moving his head, glances over at you, winks, then looks back at the person he's talking to. The sensation that causes goes straight to your core.

“Whose round is it then?” one of your friends asks, standing just next to the sofa you’re sat on. 

Leaning back, you wave her over so that she bends down to you, pulling her head down as close as it’ll get to your face before whispering in her ear, “Could you actually just get me a Coke? Nothing in it?” She nods and you grin at her as she stands tall again. “Oh!” You fish your staff ID out of your bag and hand it over to her. “Don’t forget to use that, don’t go paying full price here if you can help it!”

“Not exactly a great advertisement for this place, are you?” One of Tom’s friends asks amusedly before declaring he’ll buy the drinks in, and you watch as him and your friend go to the bar with the intent to order them - though even once they’re out of your earshot, you still notice that they seem to be distracting themselves.

Tom finally finishes his other conversation and nudges you to ask in an intrigued voice, “What were you two whispering about earlier, then?” 

“And why’s that any of your business?” You ask back with a sly smile.

He shrugs, “Dunno, might have been about me.”

"If I was gonna talk about you, I'd say it to you," you grin, leaning to rest your head on the back cushion of the sofa.

"Yeah?" he asks with raised eyebrows. “In front of everyone?”

You shrug, “Depends. You got anything you want to tell me in front of everyone?”

He beckons you close with two fingers - a gesture you try desperately not to fixate on - and leans in close to your ear, cups his hand around it and whispers, "I proper fancy you."

"Yeah, and water's wet," you lean around to raise your eyebrows back at him, giggling as he frowns at you. “Glad to hear it from this version of you, though.”

He can't keep his frowning up for long, though, his own eyebrows soon waggling with anticipation. "Alright, so, c’mon, then. You got anything to say to me?”

You lean in with the intention to whisper back in his ear, but you get distracted by your friend handing you your drink, along with a very knowing look. “You two need a room?” They ask with a smirk.

“Like you two weren’t locking lips over at the bar?” You tease back, flashing your eyes over to Tom’s friend briefly. Laughing it off with you, your friend joins her new companion for the night as you settle yourself in next to Tom.

“Big glass for a mixed drink,” he repeats what you’d said to him earlier with a smug look on his face.

Knowing what he’s doing, you grin back, “Almost as if it isn’t.” Leaning across to grab his own glass again from the table, he clinks it against yours for the second time this evening and takes a big swig, his eyes never leaving yours.

When the pub finally closes, you, Tom, and those of your friends that haven’t already dispersed for the night, decide to make for the first fast-food place you see. One of Tom’s friends even takes advantage of Tom insisting on buying you a burger by holding his lighter on top of it while everyone sings Happy Birthday to you. You spend the last few minutes of your birthday surrounded by friends, old and new, singing and laughing and falling against Tom’s arm while he feeds you fries. Sure, you could have gotten even more drunk, found some other club that was open and danced the night away - but something about this just feels nicer.

Everyone’s figuring out their taxi situations when Tom turns to you. “What about you, which cab are you taking?”

“Neither,” you shake your head, scrunching your face up. He looks at you quizzically, and you hold your hand out in front of you to gesture down the road, moving it around a couple of times to gesture your route home. “Walking distance.”

Just as Tom's about to reply, he's interrupted by his friends yelling at him to get in their cab. He looks over at them and turns his nose up. "Nah, think I'm gonna stick with this one, not sure how much I trust these streets. I'll get my own later, it's fine." You don't hear exactly what his mates say, but the general tone of their collective jeering and grabbing Tom's arm as he bats them away and tells them, “Alright, gerroff!” tells you everything.

They chorus one more happy birthday! to you before Tom shuts the car door on them. You shout back that you'll treat them to a round next time they come into the pub and you can hear their cheers even when the door is shut, which makes you laugh. The pair of you wave both taxis off as they drive away, and you and Tom naturally link arms as you start walking back to your place.

"How you feeling?" he asks.

"Pretty damn good. You keep some decent company," you smile at him.

"What, that gaggle of idiots? Yeah, they're not so bad," he laughs softly. "Good birthday, d'you reckon?" 

"Best so far," your smile widens as you hug his arm, leaning your head against it. He rests his head on top of yours, reaching over with his free hand to rub where your two meet around his bicep.

The pair of you make little pockets of small talk in the short walk to your house until you stop in front of it. Tom whistles as he looks it up and down. "What's your pay like at that pub? I'll have to start working there."

You laugh, "Calm down, I just rent out the top floor." You sigh happily. "Come see it, if you like."

"Ooh, inviting me in, eh? So late at night? Whatever will the neighbours say?" Tom teases, making you laugh.

"Oh, shut it," you smirk, shaking your head.

"Well, you are sending me mixed signals, here," Tom widens his face and crosses his arms. "See, I've wore my heart on my sleeve. I've told you what I think of you, many a time, in fact. And yet here you go, stringing a poor boy on, leaving him without a clue how you feel," he rocks himself from side to side, his movements and tone getting more and more extravagant as he keeps talking.

You swat at him playfully, "Shut up, or else you really will wake up the neighbours!" You step closer to him and beckon him closer. As he leans in, you move round to cup your hands over his ear and whisper, "I proper fancy you, too."

“Oh, yeah?” He murmurs seductively, reaching over to stroke his hands up and down your arms. “An’ how can I be so sure of that, drunky?”

“Piss off, I’m sober now,” you make the weakest attempt at shoving his chest, your palms flat against it, but it does nothing to his gait, only making him laugh under his breath. Instead, your hands grab the shirt beneath them as you grin, “C’mere,” and pull him in for a kiss. It’s filled with all the passionate relief of finally getting to do something you’ve both wanted for so long, and it only ramps up the longer you kiss for. 

You hum in questioning, breaking away for a second to jerk your head towards your door, and he chuckles between even more kisses as he cradles your face, constantly pulling you back in for more. “Trying to get me inside, are you?”

With a sly smile, you pull back. “Well, if you don’t want to -” You swivel to face the door itself, digging your keys out of your bag, but Tom’s back on you in a flash. His body presses into your form as his hands slide back around your body, down to squeeze your hips, back up to wrap around your breasts, all while he kisses your neck.

You melt into his touch, leaning back to press yourself against him. You allow your hips to sway back and forth, grinding your ass against what is almost certainly a bulge straining against the denim. He hums against your neck, “Don’t even wanna wait ’til we get in? Dirty girl,” he accompanies his last remark by leaning back just enough to reach down and lightly spank your ass cheek, making you gasp audibly. Stepping forward to close the gap again, he nuzzles your ear as he purrs, “Oh, she likes that, doesn’t she?”

You whine in agreement and he continues nuzzling his nose down past your jaw, ghosting his lips against the sensitive flesh of your neck once again. You hum out a soft moan as you finally wrestle your key into the lock. The pair of you practically fall over each other to get through the door, but you're quick to pin him against it as soon as it shuts, kissing him desperately.

He moans into your mouth, "Oh, fuck, someone's eager, aren't you? Wanna just take me right here and now, huh?" You laugh against his lips as you keep kissing him. He hums back, "Let's see how much you want me, yeah?" as his hand ghosts beneath the skirt of your dress, sliding up your inner thigh to press against your core through your panties. 

You whimper into the kiss and he drawls, "Fuck me, you're so wet, already. Thinking about this on the walk here, were you?" He slides a finger up and down the fabric of your underwear as he mutters into the inch of space between your lips. "Or while we were at the pub?" He asks as he presses against your covered clit. You grab at his shirt, where you'd already made a mess of it, and he whispers smugly, "Or have you secretly spent your whole birthday hoping it'd end with this?' 

You cry out again, finally finding your voice, "God, please, Tom… Want more.” You look at him with pleading eyes and he chuckles back.

"Mmm, now there's a face that I've been dreaming about. But you were the one to pin me to the door here, so I think I should get to enjoy kissing you a little bit longer, at least," he mutters as he leans back in to resume his embrace.

"Tease," you accuse against him, and he laughs again.

"'M not teasing at all, sweetness, just been waiting so long for this, I wanna take my time an– Yeah, I'm totally teasing you," he grins as he cranes his head to kiss your neck again. You whine in protest, and he deftly moves your panties aside to slide one long middle finger inside of you. “Go on, then, just one, for now. Seeing as it is your birthday, an’ all,” he grins wickedly, but he soon melts against you as you squirm and moan around him. As his posture relaxes, you move your hands onto his shoulders and start pushing, which he points out with an amused, “You try’na tell me something there?”

“I mean, seeing as it is my birthday…” You counter, lilting with an obviously fake nonchalance.

Tom grins as he sinks himself lower. “Yeah, I’ll get on my knees for you, love.” Once he’s knelt at your feet, he feels his way up your thighs, past your dress until his fingers hook into the sides of your panties. He looks up at you pleadingly with a soft noise of questioning, soon beaming once you nod in affirmation as he pulls them down to your ankles. He sighs dreamily as he looks up at you. “Fuck, babe, look at you,” he breathes out. “Could just stare at you for hours.” You pout at him, and he responds with a cheeky, “Yeah, maybe I will. Maybe I’ll just -” He sits back on his heels with a small, smug smile, “sit right back here and watch as - oh, someone’s twitchy, aren’t they?” He asks with soft intrigue, cocking his head to the side as he leans in closer between your legs.

“Tom, please…” You plead. “Enough teasing, now.”

“Yeah? Alright, then,” he sits up to bury his face into you, his tongue lapping away at the edges of your folds. “Mmm, y’taste so good, babe. So much better’n I imagined. C’mere,” he wraps his arms around your thighs as he carries on eating you out. He starts off so carefully, sweet little kitten licks to your clit and long, slow, drawn out ministrations through your core, but he takes the hint when you whine out in frustration, grab his hair and push his head further in.

He starts fucking you with his tongue, making you cry out in ecstasy, especially when he reaches up to rub at your clit in quick circles. You keel over and perch yourself on the door when he switches up to suck on your clit while sinking two fingers into you and curving them. He keeps mumbling into your skin, words you wish you could hear were it not for the blood pumping in your ears, but it seems as though Tom only intends for his compliments to be heard only between him and your cunt.

He finally pulls away, breathing heavily, and pushes himself up to stand, wrapping his hand around the back of your neck to pull you in for another kiss. He moans as he presses his body against yours, as though the thought of making you taste yourself is turning him on all the more. “Wanna fuck you,” he pants as he presses his forehead to yours. “Please, I wan- need to be inside you, like, now.”

“Not so cocky, now, are you, babe?” you smirk, and he laughs.

“No, miss, just one taste and I’m already wrapped ’round your finger,” he jokes.

You jerk your head behind you, “Think you can wait ’til we get up them stairs?”

Tom steps aside and gestures towards them with an, “After you.”

You laugh as you first kick away the underwear still sitting on your ankles before taking your shoes off, prompting Tom to do the same. He stays behind you as you run up the flight of stairs leading into your living area, though not without another soft smack to your ass as he follows it.

Once you’re back on flat ground, you hold your hand out for him to take, walking backwards as you pull him towards your bedroom, even while the pair of you lock lips once again. You scramble to get his shirt off before you’ve even reached your bedroom door, though every attempt to lean back and admire him is scuppered by him leaning in to keep kissing you, until you practically fall through the doorway.

You guide him over to your bed and push him down onto it. His hands explore your body as you stand between his legs, before sliding up your thighs and pushing your dress up over your ass. His hands grip your cheeks roughly as he pulls you closer, craning his neck around to look at it as he plays with it, gently slapping each one alternately as it jiggles and loving the sights and sounds of it. "Fuck, angel, want you so bad," he groans before looking up at you pleadingly. "D'you want me, too?"

Caressing his face gently, you beam, "Get the rest of those clothes off and shuffle back on the bed, and I'll show you." Tom scrambles backwards, wriggling himself free of his jeans and boxers as he does, until he's laying back on your pillows, clothes discarded on your bedroom floor. You slowly strip yourself of your own clothes, too, opting to shimmy your dress down past your hips, really putting on a show for him as you push it over your bare ass, before unclipping your bra, holding it high and dropping it down onto the floor.

You stop for a moment to just enjoy the sight of him, your favourite customer, laying on your bed, biting his lip as he jerks off to the sight of you right in front of you. You whimper as you fall to rest one knee on your mattress, rubbing at your own clit as you watch him, the tip of his cock peeking out through his foreskin with every tug, tantalising you. He looks just a little bigger and just a little wider than you're used to, and you feel your pussy drench beneath you at the thought of him filling you up. "You gonna keep that gorgeous body of yours that far away from me for long, sweetness?" Tom pouts, and you hurriedly climb him like a tree. You go to kiss him once you've straddled him, but he jokingly turns his head aside. “No, no, if you’d rather stay away from me, don’t let me stop you,” he jokes, and you consider playing him at his own game, but you realise the quickest way to get what you want.

Pouting, you lean yourself down onto him, especially making sure you squeeze your breasts against his chest, and croon, “Oh, please, Tom, I need you so bad. ’M sorry I got so distracted by what a pretty cock you’ve got, please let me ride it, I swear, I’ll be so good for you.”

Tom slowly turns his head back to look at you, a proud smirk on his face as he lifts his head to place a hand behind it. “Go on, keep begging, that’s my girl,” he drawls, lightly tracing your back with the fingertips of his free hand.

Feeling your heart soar and cunt throb at the sentiment, you whine, grinding your hips against his, "God, Tom… Want you to fuck me so bad, been dreaming about it f'too long, need to feel it now, please? Just for tonight?"

Tom wrinkles his nose. "Dunno about that…" And for a fleeting second, you're filled with a disappointed doubt that he's changed his mind, until he grabs at you and, with a mischievous grin, throws you off to the side, wrestling your giggling self until you're the one laying beneath him. He perches himself on his elbows to hover above you, and playfully and tenderly strokes all around your face before purring happily between kisses, "'M definitely gonna fuck you tonight… But I'm also gonna fuck you in the morning… And again, a little bit after that… And again, after that… Sound good so far?"

You hum happily, "Sounds perfect. But, please can I have your cock inside of me, now? Have I earned it yet?"

"Aww, gonna milk it, pretty girl?" He coos,  reaching down to guide his tip between your folds. "Gonna take it all in that tight little pussy of yours, yeah? Gonna be good f'me?" You nod, whining desperately as you feel him starting to push into you. "Oh my god," he whimpers as he enters you, kissing you passionately as he fills you. Your hips start to buck down instinctively as he moves, and he tuts, "Fussy girl can't wait?"

You pout your lower lip out, "'M not fussy."

He does the same expression back to you sarcastically. "You're not?" He asks mockingly as he slowly starts pulling out. You grab his shoulders in protest, and that wicked smile of his comes back. "Fuck me, you are dirty, aren't you?" You nod in defeat, and he presses another kiss to your lips. "Good," he beams before sinking himself back into you, filling you up.

Your fingers dig into the supple flesh just above his shoulder blades as your legs wrap around his hips. "Oh, fuck, Tom… So much… Better…"

"Better, eh? So you'd think about me, too? While I spent - mmm - my nights getting off to the - fuck - thought of you, you were - shit - doing the same?" You nod, whining in agreement, and he moans as his thrusts get more frantic. "Fuck, I've wanted you - needed you - for so long, now… Never letting you go, never gonna stop - ah, shit, yes," he groans.

You pout at him, "Not even at least long enough for me to get on all fours?"

He looks at you as though all of his Christmases have come at once. "You want that?"

You nod, biting your lip. "And, since you love it so much, you can pull out and cum on my ass, if you want."

Add all his birthdays at once as well, based on his reaction. "Always knew you were the perfect woman, holy shit," he mutters in awe as he pulls out of you. You turn yourself around to get on your hands and knees, arching your back to present yourself to him, and he grabs at your ass to admire the sight in front of him, and he growls under his breath. A guttural, feral sound that has you clenching around nothing. “Been thinking about this much, then?”

“Oh, only pretty much every time I’m closing up the bar,” you chirp in reply. “Why’d you think I’ve been asking for you to stay sober for a night?”

“Fuck, if this is what one night gets me, I’m going teetotal,” he sighs wistfully, making you giggle.

“What was that line you gave me earlier about keeping that body away from me?” You tease, biting your lip as you anticipate the inevitable spank to your ass cheek with glee.

“Cheeky,” he smirks back as he admires how your skin ripples under his touch, "not so fun when it's the other way around, is it?"

"Does that mean you're gonna beg for me now, then?" You ask hopefully.

Tom pushes your back down enough for him to lean over you entirely to be within whisper distance of your ear. You feel his cock pressing into the crack of your ass as he whimpers, "Oh, please, miss, let me fuck you into oblivion. 'M such a good boy f'you, been waiting all this time to show you, been thinking about this all along. Please give me what I want."

"Yeah?" You moan against your pillow. "Tell me as you're filling me up again."

You feel him start to line his cock up with your pussy from behind as he admits, "Think about the day you'd finally tell me to hang back. I'd sit you on the pool table and eat that sweet little pussy of yours 'til it stains it. Bend you over that bar - that you've been spending months teasing me behind - an' just -" He lets out a long, shaky breath as he pushes his tip inside of you, revelling in the feeling of your cunt immediately pulling him in for more.

"Please, Tom…" you whine. "'S all I think about when I'm closing, too. Can't look anywhere without thinking of how you'd fuck me," you admit half-sheepishly as you rock back onto him.

Tom's hips buck to meet yours as he groans. "God, I've been a fucking idiot, then, haven't I?" He half-laughs.

"'S fine, just - fuck me now, please? Just how you’ve always wanted to?" You beg, crying out in delight as he grabs your hips and starts thrusting frantically into you. 

You've always thought it was cliche as all hell when people say that with the right person, it feels as though they're made for you - but Tom barely needs any direction from you to bring you to your apex. He feels right inside of you, he's hitting just the right spots at just the right pace, without you even needing to ask him. And the sounds he makes as he's fucking you, just the knowledge that you're clearly making him feel the same way, turns you on even more.

His moans become more strained, and his grip tightens. "Fuck, babe, need - need to feel you cum so I can - fuck, are you close?"

You whine out an, "Almost. I can get there quicker, though," you start shuffling to reach down between your legs, but Tom bats your hand away.

"Please, allow me," he smirks as he strokes your clit up and down.

"Such a gentleman," you tease, and he chuckles.

"Not much gentle about me, love," he purrs before rubbing your clit in deliberate, tight, fast circles, slapping your ass once more for good measure and practically losing himself inside of you when he feels how you clench around him at that.

When you climax, it's more intense than you've felt for a long time, if at all. You paint his cock in your juices, and he only just about manages to pull it out of you in time to spread warm spurts of thick cum against your ass. 

You flop down onto the bed, still stomach first, in exhaustion, smiling wistfully at the feeling of Tom lightly dragging the tip of his cock through the strings of cum he's left on your ass cheeks. "Having fun back there?"

"Just sort of sinking in that it's really happened," he replies in a state of dazed happiness. "How you feeling?"

"Good," you smile back in the same tone, "so very good."

"Yeah?" he smirks proudly.

"Should probably clean up," you mutter into your pillow, "but I don't wanna move right now."

Tom laughs, "C'mon, let's see if we can share a shower without you trying to go for round two, eh?"

You sit up on your knees, pivoting to face him, and gasp in shocked offence, making him laugh even more. “Oh, if I can, eh? And what about you?!”

He leans in with a grin, holding you by the throat as he kisses you deeply, longingly. “I already know I can’t.”

Once you’re both stood up, the rest of the night catches up with you and you both spend a moment blinking at each other heavily and laughing in exhaustion. You do share a shower, but it’s tender, soft, intimate. Lots of gentle caressing and slow kisses as you bathe Tom in your signature scent, the two of you becoming as one. 

When you’re all clean, dry, and snuggled in Tom’s arms in your bed, you sigh. He turns his head to rest his face against the top of your head, pressing a soft kiss to it as he asks, “What’s wrong, sweetness?”

“Don’t want to fall asleep, now. Means it’s over,” you mumble into his bare chest.

“What, d’you really think I’m gonna ghost you after this?!” Tom asks with amusement. “You’re stuck with me now, babe.”

“Oh, no(!) How terrible(!)” You joke, and Tom gasps.

“Cheeky!”

“Ah, can’t reach down to spank me now, can you?” You tease.

Tom hums sleepily, “Hmm, I’m keeping track in my head of what I owe you, don’t you worry,” and you giggle. “Y’know, this wasn’t really how I wanted to do things with you.”

“How’d you mean?”

Tom shuffles a little, “Well, y’know. The deal was only ever to get your number, at first. Then, I was gonna wow you with my excellent flirting skil- why’re you laughing?” He pokes the soft part of your side, tickling you and making you laugh even more. “Anyway, wanted to do it all… Y’know, proper. Wine and dine you, so you knew it was for real.”

You frown, tracing the freckles on his chest absent-mindedly. “Yeah, but you did do all that. You bought me a drink at the start… Bought me my burger… And I think I know how you feel about me well enough by this point,” you grin. “Just thought you’d earned a night of teasing me, for once. Don’t get too used to it, though.”

“Oh? Sounds like a challenge,” Tom smirks, and you laugh. He sighs happily, “I really do like you, by the way. Not just drunky Tom, an’ I wasn’t just trying to get you in bed, neither. Not that I’m complaining,” he squeezes you closer to him, smiling into your hair.

“I like you too, Mr Grant,” you tease back, looking up at him to kiss him. One kiss gets followed by another, and another. “Things just feel right with you, y’know?”

“Yeah, I do,” he replies wistfully. “Like… Not to bring up my ex, but being Ruth was just like… Doing it to get it over with, d’you know what I mean? Like we did because it’s a thing people do. But that was just fun, like we were having a laugh but it was so fucking good at the same time. ’M just sorry I only made you come the once, especially on your birthday. How inconsiderate, eh?!” he jokes, and you laugh so loudly that your hand flies up to your mouth, but Tom gently guides it back away, watching you with adoration.

“Trust me, that was plenty! If anything, I’m sorry I didn’t get to play with you more,” you go back to playing with his freckles.

“Right, so, plan is, we get up nice an’ early in the morning, you suck me off and then ride my face until you’ve had at least three orgasms, yeah?” Tom jokes.

Laughing, you offer, “Deal. If you’re still asleep when I wake up, I'll just get started and wait for you to catch up, shall I?"

"God, it's like you're in my brain," Tom shakes his head as you both fill the room with laughter.

“S’pose we should get some sleep then, shouldn’t we?” You suggest, shuffling around until you’re comfortable. He matches your posture easily, spooning you and wrapping you up in his embrace as he settles down next to you.

“G’night, love. Hope you enjoyed your birthday,” he muses in your ear.

“Definitely the best one yet.” You smile sleepily as you feel him lean over to kiss your cheek, and turn your head around to sneak in a few more kisses before finally falling asleep.

tagging a few people who might especially want to read, feel free to tell me if you don't want to be tagged <3: @keerysquinn @pedgito @babybluebex @reysorigins @keeponquinning

#tom grant #tom grant x reader #tom grant x you #tom grant imagine #tom grant fanfiction #tom grant fanfic #tom grant fic #tom make up #tom make up x reader #tom make up x you #tom make up imagine #tom make up fanfiction #tom make up fanfic #tom make up fic #*myfics #fic: tom g

[meduseld]

#furiosa a mad max saga #george miller i am in your walls #furiosa #praetorian jack #furiosa x jack #mad max #listen i am going to be insane about them for a while #i'm sorry but also not. LOOK AT THEM #fury road #tom burke #anya taylor joy #also you can't see in this image but their legs are tangled up at that moment #they make me wanna chew drywall

[ifisawyoueverydayforeverwill]

Y'ALL NEED TO SEE THIS PANEL

#Mobius will be the one to save him! #because he ended up very sad #But from what we saw on the series Mobius can push his feelings inside #maybe Deadpool can make him admit how much he misses loki?? #LET ME DREAM #I still can't bear the hopelessness Tom Hiddleston left me with when he said that his journey as Loki had ended #YOU CAN'T JUST SAY THAT #ofc u can I'm just rambling I'm heartbroken and sad #btw someone on Quora answering a question about whether or not Asgard was linked to time or not used that panel #so I don't have the source of the specific comic I just know it's Thor I'm sorry #loki #lokius #loki x mobius #mobius m mobius #agent mobius #thor #thor comics #marvel cinematic universe #marvel loki #we all not it won't be Sylvie shedding that tear #loki season two #loki series #loki season 2

[somethingvicked]

X-rated Education

a Tom Grant (Make up 2019) x FemReader story.

(warnings - swearing, some derogative labels, mentions of sex, sexual teasing)

Prologue

It was the first time in several weeks that Tom had given in and followed Kai and the other guys out to the local pub.

He had felt completely lost since Ruth left, ashamed and not in the mood for the other’s pitying looks or the (what he assumed) judgmental whispers behind his back.

”Tommy boy is so bad at pleasing women that his girlfriend turned dyke!”

That didn’t do wonder for a guys ego.

Tonight Kai had all but dragged him by his neck away from his trailer though, saying that the best way to get over a birdie was to bed another one.

But Tom didn’t even know how to begin? What if he truly was so bad in bed that Ruth turned gay?!

Deep down he knew it didn’t work like that but still his mind wouldn’t shut up about it.

After they had arrived to the pub and gotten seated at a booth Kai suddenly stood up and waved. ”I’ll be damned, there’s Y/N,” he said, gesturing for the woman to come over to them.

”Friend of yours?” one of the guys wondered.

”More like the daughter of my mom’s best friend, but we get along well. Tried to score with her a few times but she’s just never interested,” Kai told them, making Y/N hear the last part and she snorted as she sat down, in between Tom and Kai.

”Trust me, Kai, I’m not the only girl that thinks that way,” she told him with a smirk, making him give her a friendly shove before he introduced everyone.

Tom felt himself blush when Y/N shook his hand. She was a very pretty girl with y/c hair and y/c eyes and a sweet but alluring scent of perfume emanating from her. It was the first time he had felt anything else but sadness and betrayal since Ruth left.

Since the other guys soon turned to drinking games, pool or tossing dart only Y/N and Tom were left at the table. He felt himself tongue tied, like he couldn’t even talk to a girl these days but Y/N took the lead herself, asking if he worked with Kai liked the others, how he liked the work and then told him a little about her own life, that for the time being she was working at the coffee shop in town, taking a gap year before deciding if she wanted to go to the university or do something else. He also found out that she was actually older than him, not by much – merely three years, but it was a surprise. Somehow that made her even more alluring in his eyes, but that also made him more insecure of himself and his predicament.

Y/N was clearly a strong, confident woman. Beside her he appeared even more of a pathetic failure that made girls lesbians.

Y/N then asked if she made him feel uncomfortable – since he didn’t speak much. Tom assured her that wasn’t the case, once again feeling his cheeks heat up. ”I’m just... well, I guess I’m just shy around you,” he told her, chuckling awkwardly.

”How so?” Y/N wondered, her eyes wide, clearly not seeing her own allure.

”Well... I recently got out of a very long relationship and I suppose I don’t know how to be around girls now... being single,” he tried to explain.

Strangely enough it seemed like she understood.

”Oh. So it’s in that awkward phase when you haven’t really grasped the fact that now you are just a ’me’ not a ’we’?”

”Exactly!” Tom agreed. ”But it’s... more than that. She... she cheated on me. And... I don’t know, we’d been together for four years and she never gave any... that she was unhappy. And then all of a sudden she was with someone else.”

And that someone else had been a woman. He didn’t say that though.

”Wow,” Y/N exhaled. ”I’m so sorry. That must be tough.” Then she frowned as she seemed to think about something. ”Wait... four years, you said? And you are... what? 19?”

”20,” Tom replied.

”Was she... was she your first girlfriend? The only one you’ve been with?” Y/N poked, a sympathetic look on her face.

Tom looked down on the floor, once again feeling that shame. ”Yeah,” he admitted.

”Oh my,” Y/N exclaimed, ”then I can understand you’re heartbroken. First love and one that you’ve been with such a long time...”

She placed her hand on his, squeezing it. He felt his heart skip a beat. She comforted him. She didn’t make fun of him, she understood!

Maybe that was why he finally told her everything or maybe it was the booze – how he felt so insecure about his ability to please a girl now, that he was questioning everything he had ever thought he knew, even the limited amount of experience he had. He was a guy with an internet connection, of course he knew there was more to sex than what he and Ruth had been up to. Problem was that they never really experimented, she never seemed to want to – or want him, for that matter. To her it was just something they did because they were supposed to. Kind of like the weekly laundry. And now he just felt he was so hopelessly left behind he wouldn’t know where to begin.

Y/N pursed her lips. What she suggested thereafter might also had been because of the booze but she found Tom so sweet and wanted to help him.

”Hey... what would you say if... I taught you?” she asked carefully, ”I’m currently single and I think I know enough of what makes women tick in the bedroom.”

Tom suddenly had a hard time breathing. ”W-what? You’d do that?”

”Sure,” she giggled, ”you’re cute and... it’s kind of hot that I get to be the one to... corrupt you. We can call this... X-rated education. Or SEX-rated education, if you want.”

Tom would lie if he didn’t admit his cock twitched in his jeans at that.

”O-okay,” he said, not really believing what was happening. Then he decided to simply go for it. ”C-could we... start tonight?”

She giggled. ”Eager are we? Me likey! Of course we can start tonight. If you think you can still... preform with all the booze we’ve had.”

Tom gave an adorable little snort. ”I don’t think that will be a problem, love.”

tag list: @ficsbypix @melodymunson @eddie-is-a-god

(let me know if you want to be tagged in next chapter)

like, comment, reblog!

#tom grant x reader #tom grant x female reader #tom grant x you #tom grant make up #joseph quinn

[ladyfogg]

Windswept - Part 1

Windswept - Part 1

Fic Summary: Still getting over his breakup with Ruth, Tom notices a familiar face has returned to Cornwall. Lonely and unable to sleep, he shows up at your trailer late one night. But as eager as you are to have him in your bed, you’re not interested in only being his distraction. (Part 2) Fics Masterpost.

Fic Rating: 18+

Pairing: Tom Grant/Female Reader

Warnings: Language, Friends to Lovers, Flirting, Established Friendship, Unrequited/Unresolved Feelings, Smut, Angst, Unprotected Sex, Oral (female and male receiving) Fluff

Fic Song: Windswept by Moonfall (It’s such a good sad song, highly recommend listening)

A/N: This one is for @delving-verilly​. Hope you like it, hun! Also, I needed to give Tom some love because he is absolute boyfriend material and deserves all the good things.

Tom still doesn’t know the full story.

After what went down with Ruth, she never fully explained her actions or feelings. It was hard when she hung around. Seeing her every day and being completely ignored was like salt in the wound. It was like he never existed, like their long relationship never happened. Tom had to put up with it for several months until she and her…girlfriend moved without a word.

It got better when she left. However, it still wasn’t great. He still wasn’t great.

How could he be? The only girl he had ever been with, ever truly loved, betrayed him, and broke his heart. Cornwall is small, the staff filled with regulars. They all know about what happened and any new hires quickly learn about it. Tom can hear them whisper when they see him or see how they stop talking when he enters a room. For years he’d wanted Ruth to join him and once she did, she tainted it.

Tom keeps his head down, does his job, and goes through the motions.

Little by little the hurt lessens, and the anger dissipates. But it never goes away. Not fully. He can’t help but wonder if he could have said something, could have done something, to keep her. Was it him? Did being with him repulse her so much that she needed to run to someone else?

It's that thought that stops him from seeking any sort of physical comfort. There have been women since Ruth, vacationers who’ve shown interest or flirted. He never lets it go further because even though he’s sure it wasn’t his fault, he can never be one-hundred percent positive.

It’s late one night, on one of his bad nights, that these thoughts swim to the surface. The weather’s been cold, so there aren’t any of his usual outdoor activities available to keep his mind occupied. When it’s nice out, he’s able to distract himself with surfing or swimming. But when it’s like this, when he’s forced indoors, he's left alone with his racing thoughts.

Unable to sleep, he heaves himself out of bed and gets dressed. Jeans, a long-sleeved shirt, and his gray hoodie are all he puts on to save him from the biting wind. He likes walking on nights like this, likes the chilly air on his face. It helps him feel.

The moon isn’t even out. The park is quiet, with most of the seasonal guests long gone. Only a few full-timers remain. Tom stays because…well, he doesn’t know why he stays, to be honest. What else is he going to do?

He does a full lap around the trailers, head bent against the wind, eyes trained on his shoes. He doesn’t need to look, knows the route by heart after having walked it so many times.

Except, tonight, there’s something different.

He sees a light in the distance. It creeps up on him, illuminating the ground bit by bit as he approaches. It takes a moment for him to register what’s going on. When he does, his head whips up and he stops in his tracks.

The light shines through the window of a trailer that was closed, at least, it had been the day before. He certainly hadn’t prepped it for anyone. There’s a chance someone else did but still, he would have heard about it.

Especially that trailer.

That one is yours. Had been yours. Tom hasn’t seen you in well over a year.

Before he can stop himself, he’s walking quicker, his hands balled into fists inside the pouch of his hoodie. His lungs are on fire from the cold but he doesn’t notice. Walking right up to the door, he raises his hand to knock. Then stops. In his excitement, he almost forgot that there’s a reason you left.

He used to see you every three or so months. You’re a writer and use the quiet of Cornwall to escape and work. It was always a treat, a highlight during his usually monotonous routine. You two would talk for hours, share a drink or a cuppa, and occasionally watch movies.

And you flirted. A lot.

Tom didn’t flirt back of course. He was with Ruth and devoted to her. Blinded by those feelings, he didn’t realize you were developing your own for him until the last time you visited.

You were respectful, never crossed that boundary, but you were honest. You told him how you felt, how you felt romantically towards him. You were also clear that you didn’t expect reciprocation, yet needed to get your feelings off your chest.

Tom played like he was surprised. Looking back on it now, deep down, he wasn’t, had always wondered if there was more to your flirtations. He held steadfast that he only regarded you as a friend, which you understood. It had been awkward, to say the least. After that, you withdrew. The hangouts and movie nights ceased. Eventually, you stopped coming around altogether.

Tom didn’t need an explanation. He could read between the lines. Of course, he had Ruth then so he didn’t dwell too much on it. However, you did cross his mind from time to time. He’d see your books in a shop or someone would visit who reminded him of you and he found himself missing your company.

And now, you’re back.

Tom realizes he has no idea what he’s going to say. What he wants to say. He also realizes it’s incredibly late and, after a moment of consideration, he lowers his hand and turns away. He doesn’t get more than two steps before the door opens.

Spinning back around, he finds you framed in the doorway. “Hi stranger,” you say with a soft smile.

Tom has to swallow past the lump in his throat. “Hiya.”

“What are you doing out in the cold at this time of night?”

“Couldn’t sleep.”

“So you came to greet little ol’ me?”

“Didn’t know you were back.”

There’s a beat of silence and then you gesture over your shoulder. “I’m making some tea. Come in and warm yourself, silly man.”

The ease of your stance and smile makes it feel like old times. Tom finds himself smiling as well. “Yeah, alright.”

You step away and he walks into the trailer. It’s warm, which means it was prepped for your arrival. That, or maybe Tom is colder than he realizes. He closes the door behind him, watching you move around your kitchen. You must have just arrived because your suitcases are in the living room. A grocery bag sits on the counter, still full.

You reach in and pull out the tea. “You don’t have to stand there, make yourself comfortable.”

Tom walks towards the living room, brushing past you in the process. There’s a brief moment where he can feel the heat from your body and it sends a shudder down his spine.

You shudder too but for a different reason. “Fucking hell, you’re freezing,” you say. “Blankets are in the second bag to the right.”

He sinks onto the couch, grabbing the suitcase and opening it to find your favorite collection of fuzzy blankets. He’d almost forgotten, though he doesn’t know how. Usually, he can find at least two in every room of the trailer. They’re soft and purely for comfort’s sake. He wraps one around himself, discreetly inhaling the scent of detergent and that unique smell that is you. Looking up, he watches you move around the kitchen, unpacking your shopping.

You look good.

It’s so strange to see you after all this time. There are so many of your features he’d started to forget. Or maybe he made himself forget because thinking about your absence hurt too much. “I didn’t think I’d see you again,” Tom admits as you pull two mugs out of the cabinet.

You quickly rinse them in the sink. “Didn’t know if I was ever going to come back here, to be honest,” you admit. There’s nothing left for you to do except wait for the kettle. You lean against the counter, your fingers drumming on the surface.  

“Where’d you go?”

“Home. Some book tours here or there but mostly stayed put.” You’re studying him as much as he’s studying you.

He wishes he could hear what you’re thinking. Your expression is calm yet your body language is tense. Normally when you returned, you would be spouting off stories about your travels or asking him what he’s been up to. He’s not used to this quiet version of you.

“Why come back now?” he asks.

“My agent doesn’t like my new stuff. Says it’s missing my old flair. Sadly, she’s right. I always wrote better when I was here.”

Tom is surprised when his heart sinks. A part of him selfishly thought you’d returned for him. It’s a cruel thing to wish for, especially since he had made it clear that he only considered you a friend, that his relationship with Ruth was important.

Seems like a bad joke the universe played on him. Push away the girl who shared her feelings while holding onto the one who didn’t.

“Shirley didn’t tell me you were coming back,” he says, hands curled around the edges of the blanket to hold it closed. He’s warmed up some yet the chill persists. Though, he’s not sure the weather is the cause anymore.

“I asked her not to.”

“Why?”

“You know why. Do I have to say it?”

Tom is spared from answering when the kettle whistles. You turn your back, busying yourself with making the tea. He notices you pour his into the mug he always favored, preparing his cuppa exactly how he likes it. Even after all this time away, you remember.

When you’re done, you carry both cups over to the couch and hand him his. He takes it graciously, the heat instantly warming his freezing hands. You don’t sit next to him on the couch like you normally would. Instead, you choose the armchair, tucking your bare feet underneath you.

“I’m sorry about Ruth.”

Tom averts his gaze and stares at the floor. So you do know. “Who told you?”

“Shirley, about twenty minutes ago. We don’t have to talk about it. I just…I wanted to say something. I know you loved her.”

“Yeah, I did.” Tom takes a sip of tea, not even caring that it burns his tongue. He welcomes the flash of pain.

You two fall into silence, quietly sipping your tea as tension hangs in the air. He hates it. Being around you used to relax him and bring him comfort. Now, it’s like neither of you knows what to say or how to act with each other anymore. When Tom looks up at you, you’re staring out the dark window. He studies your face, even though he’s seen it hundreds of times before, admired it even. You were always full of energy and humor. He remembers the laughing fits you two would have after the other said something ridiculous. He remembers how your face used to light up.

Now it’s stoic and pensive. Did he do that too? Did his rejection take your laughter and brightness away? Was that his curse? To take a lively woman and turn her against himself?

No, he can’t think like that. Won’t think like that. Not about you.

“I wasn’t sure if I was going to come back,” you say, more to yourself than to him. “Up until two days ago, I almost canceled.”

Tom processes your words, running his thumb along the handle of the mug clutched tight in his hands. “Why did you decide to come?”

“I missed this place,” you admit. “I missed the ocean, the quiet nights. I missed…I missed a lot of things about it.” You trail off, sipping your tea.

“Me?” he asks with a small smile.

You smirk and glance over at him. “Mighty presumptuous of you,” you tease.

“We were friends.”

“We still are, Tom. I never stopped being your friend.”

“But you stopped coming around. Never called or texted either.”

“I wasn’t doing myself any favors. And you made it perfectly clear where we stood. I figured distance would be best, for my own sake.”

“And was it?”

You finally turn away from the window to give him your full attention. “No. It didn’t make a difference.”

Silence washes over you once more as you drink your tea. Tom has no words, isn’t sure what to say to that. Does that mean you still have feelings for him? If so, he’s not sure how he feels about them anymore. How he feels about you. Everything is so different now. All he thought and knew had been a lie and now he’s left hollow and empty, a shell of his former self. How can you love a shell? Does he even want you to care enough to try? When you finish, you get up and take both empty cups to the sink.

Tom needs to leave. He needs to be alone with his thoughts. Everything is a jumbled mess and he’s starting to get a headache. Reluctantly, he stands, letting the blanket fall to the couch. “It’s late, I should let you get some rest.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty exhausted. We can catch up tomorrow or later in the week.” You’re washing the mugs, eyes trained on what you’re doing.

When Tom goes to slip by you, he feels that heat again and it stops him in his tracks. Like a moth to a flame, he steps closer. Unable to help himself, he turns his body towards yours. His arm slides around your waist and he presses himself against your back in what starts as a hug.

You instantly freeze, hands pausing their work. A moment later, you melt, leaning back into his embrace. The tension leaves your shoulders and you hum with satisfaction. Tom kisses the top of your head, closing his eyes and savoring the closeness. It’s been long, so long since he’s touched someone, been touched. And now that it’s you, a whole smattering of feelings and thoughts come crawling to the surface.

You turn off the sink, absentmindedly drying your hands on the nearby dish towel. When you turn around to face him, Tom cups your cheek and kisses you.

It’s impulsive, not something he is planning or even thinking about until the moment your lips are within reach. Your gasp in surprise and he takes advantage, slips his tongue past yours to lick at the inside of your mouth. He thought he’d be clumsy and out of practice but he’s not. The more he kisses you, the better he feels, and the easier it is to lose himself in your lips. You wrap your arm around his neck, your body yielding to his touch as he traps you between himself and the counter.

Desire twists his gut and makes his stomach fall through the floor. It’s like kissing you hits a giant reset button and he’s bombarded with a slew of sensations he can’t identify or process. At least not right now, not when he has you in his arms and you’re so fucking warm, and soft, and responsive…

Tom breaks the kiss to catch his breath, opening his eyes to find yours already watching him. Your chest heaves as you pant, and it’s then that he realizes you’re not wearing a bra. He can see your nipples through the thin fabric of your t-shirt and it does things to him, makes him want to touch and grope. His cock is already straining in his jeans and he knows you can feel it press into your thigh.

You open your mouth to speak but he silences you with another kiss, harsher and rougher, this time both hands cradling your face. A moan escapes and the sound makes him feral, fuels the raging inferno inside that wants to consume. He kisses you harder and slides both arms around your waist so you can barely move.

“Tom,” you manage to whisper.

He says your name back, deepening the kiss, leaning the full weight of his body against yours so you can feel all of him, feel what you’re doing to him. His hands seek the hem of your shirt, gliding underneath, desperate to feel your skin under his palms. The brief touch alone is enough to send sparks through his veins.

There’s suddenly a hand on his chest and you push him back, breaking the kiss and all contact. You’re panting, your lips glistening from his kisses. He knows you want him, can see that your pupils are dilated. He can still hear your moan echoing in his mind. He wants you too, wants to lose himself in your arms and bed.

“Tom, what are you doing?”

That’s not what he’s prepared to hear and he blinks at you in confusion. “Thought it was obvious,” he says. “I’m kissing you.”

He tries to step forward but your hand is persistent, keeping him right where he is. “Don’t,” you say, your voice dropping low and your eyes pleading with him. “Don’t do this. Not right now.”

It’s like someone douses him with ice-cold water. Every feeling and racing thought stops dead in its tracks. “What’s wrong?” he asks, wrapping his hand around yours. “Do you not want this?” He felt you kiss him back, felt the way your body molded to his. He knows you enjoyed it. At least he thinks you enjoyed it. Those anxieties start to creep back.

“Not if it’s just to make you feel something. Not if it’s just a distraction.”

The air is sucked from his lungs and he just stands there, staring at you while he takes in your words. Is that what he’s doing? He didn’t think he was. He was just reacting to what his body wants. And right now, it wants you like he’s never wanted you before. Never wanted anyone before he dares to think.

Tom tries to swallow past the lump in his throat. He says your name, gently holding the hand that’s pressed to his chest. Once again, he makes a move to step forward and once again you stop him.

“Go home,” you say in a gentle voice, reaching up to stroke his cheek. “We can talk more later.”

As if in a daze, Tom finds himself leaving your trailer. Once he’s in the cold, he lets out a shaking breath. Steps hurried, he heads to his own trailer, his mind replaying the kiss over and over again. He’s frozen by the time he gets home. Inside does not offer the same warmth you provided. He strips down and climbs into the shower, turning the hot water on full blast.

Tom sticks his head under the spray of the water, letting the heat soothe his tense shoulders and finally chase away the chill for good. Bloody hell, why did he kiss you like that? He didn’t even ask, he just did it without thinking of the consequences. Yet, you kissed him back. You may have stopped him from touching you but you absolutely responded to his mouth. He can still picture it, still feel what it was like to have your body along his.

His cock gives a persistent twitch, reminding him that he’s still very much aroused.

Without a second thought, he wraps his hand around himself and starts to jerk off. With one hand pressed against the shower wall, he closes his eyes and thinks of you. Of your mouth, your taste, your body pressed to his…all of the little details come flooding back and he bites his lip, desperately wishing it was your hand touching him. He pictures you there with him, naked and dripping wet from the shower, your mouth glued to his as you get him off.

Would you tease him? Would you keep him on the edge, backing off with that smirk of yours as he rolls his hips into your palm?

Other images come to mind, hazy memories throughout the years that he kept locked away. You, in your bathing suit, laying out on the hot sand with your notebook, your lips wrapped around the pencil as you lost yourself in your thought. The way that bathing suit hugged your frame, he couldn’t help staring as he ran by with his surfboard.

Or when the both of you were on his couch, trying to find something to watch. You’d gotten annoyed at him for flipping through the channels and had tried to steal the remote. He had laughed, and held it out of reach, secretly loving the way your solid frame leaned across his to try and grab it.

It’s like he’s flipped a switch and his brain won’t flip it off. Every smile, every brush of your hand, every hug, every lingering look…

He comes with a strangled moan and your name on his tongue.

That tension dissipates and leaves his body shaking and boneless. Tom slumps forward, letting his forehead rest against the tiled wall. The shower washes his cum away and he watches it go down the drain. He’s confused and ashamed. Is he this lonely that he’s reaching out to the first person he feels some kind of attraction to? Or has he always been attracted to you and is now able to act on it? What if it’s the first? He can’t do that to you, especially knowing how you feel about him.

Tom’s aware that he shouldn’t have kissed you. It’s not fair for him to use you this way. Even though that was the best kiss he’s ever fucking had.

Swearing at himself, he turns off the shower and gets out. He dries himself with a towel, then leaves it on the floor as he falls naked into bed, face-first in his pillow. “Right mess you’ve made of this, mate,” he tells himself.

It’s late and he’s tired. He needs sleep. Hopefully, he’ll feel better in the morning.

Yanking up the comforter, Tom bundles himself with it, wishing it was one of your blankets. For the first time in months, he has a dreamless sleep. When he wakes up the next morning, he’s in the same spot where he fell. Rubbing his eyes, he extracts himself from the warm cocoon of his comforter and reaches for his phone to check the time. Shite, he’s gonna be late.

Bolting out of bed, he throws on his uniform, brushes his teeth, and runs his hand through his hair in a vain attempt to control the curls. Having zero time to mess with it, he deems it good enough and hurries out the door.

Only to run smack dab into you. Instinctively, he reaches out to catch you, his hands coming to rest on your hips.

“Whoa, where’s the fire?” you ask.

Seeing you here in the light of day reminds him that the night before wasn’t a dream. You’re really here and somehow in his arms again. Your hands are pressed to his chest and it makes him suck in a deep breath.

“Sorry, running late,” he says, though makes no move to let you go.

“Then I won’t keep you. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m fine.” He tells himself to let you go yet it’s so hard.

You break away first, clearing your throat as you put distance between you. “About last night…”

“I’m sorry, I can’t…I want to talk but I have to go.”

“Right, of course. You definitely just said you’re running late. Sorry. Don’t let me stand in the way.”

Tom shoves his hands in his pockets to keep from reaching for you like he wants to. He turns and starts to walk away when he has a thought. He turns around to face you. “Do you want to have dinner with me tonight?” he asks before losing his nerve.

Your eyes light up and you try to hold back your smile but he can still see it. “Yes. I’d love that.”

“Great.” Tom smiles, walking backward. “Around five?”

“I’ll bring the dessert.”

He’s about a second away from telling you that you are the dessert, yet he’s already made things awkward he’s not going to screw up again. Instead, he gives you a wave and turns back around.

It’s like a weight lifts from his chest and he can’t help smiling to himself.

Aside from being a few minutes late, the rest of his day is fairly uneventful. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t a little distracted. His mind can’t help but wander, thoughts consumed by you and you alone. He swears he can feel your lips still touching his and he catches himself standing there, unmoving, his mind racing with those run-away thoughts. He ends up calling it a day nearly thirty minutes early because he’s far too out of it to be any useful.

When he gets back to his trailer, he looks around and realizes it’s a disaster. It’s been some time since anyone has been over. He’s suddenly glad he left early because it gives him time to straighten up. Hurrying around, he gathers the scattered laundry, shoving it into the hamper.

Any trash goes in the bin and dishes in the sink. While he boils water for the spaghetti, he washes as many of them as he can, cursing himself for inviting you over when the place is an absolute mess.

A moment later, he realizes that he’s still wearing his uniform and his hair is all over the place. No, that’s not going to do. He wants this to be a date, is already thinking of it as one, and he’s not going to have his first date with you looking like this. He runs to the bedroom, opening the closet and swearing when nothing is hanging. Bloody fucking hell.

There’s a knock on the trailer door and he runs back, only to find the pot of water is boiling over. “Shit, shit, shit!”

The door opens and you poke your head in. “Everything alright in here?”

“Yeah, just making a right mess of everything.” He tries to take the pot off the stove and burns himself in the process. “Ow! Fuck!”

“Oi, move.” You sweep past him, plucking the dishrag off the counter and using it to help you grab the pot’s handle. After moving it to another burner, you turn to face it. “How bad is it?”

Tom’s hand is red but otherwise alright. Still, he lets you gently take it, relishing the brief contact of your skin touching his. “I’m all over the place,” he says, trying to clear his suddenly dry throat. Having you so close is making him dizzy.

“That’s alright. We’ll get you all sorted out.” You bend your head and lay a gentle kiss on the burn before releasing his hand. “There, all better.”

Tom smiles, taking in how close you’re standing and thinking how much he wants to close that remaining distance. His eyes stray to your lips but then you’re turning away towards the stove.

“Why don’t I get this going while you change your shirt? You got water down your front.”

Tom looks down and sure enough, there’s a large wet stain from when he rushed to wash dishes. Mentally, he calls himself every name he can think of as he heads to the bedroom. “Right, be back in a second.”

He kicks the door closed and then yanks off his shirt, digging through his drawers for something, anything that’s wearable. Thankfully there is one white T-shirt left. Not the best for eating spaghetti but it’ll have to do. In the bathroom, he attempts to push his hair back and does a quick check to make sure he’s somewhat presentable.

When he steps back into the kitchen, you have the noodles boiling in one pot and are pouring tomato sauce in another to heat it.

Tom leans against the doorframe, hands shoved into his pockets as he watches you cook in his kitchen like you’ve done countless times before. This time it’s different. You’re both different.

You glance up and catch him staring. “What are you smiling about?”

“I’ve missed you.” Tom doesn’t think it’s too forward to say. After all, it’s the truth.

“I’ve missed you too.”

You teased him about it last night but it makes his smile wider when he hears you say it. He wanders over, noticing for the first time that you brought a dish covered with foil. “What’s that?” he asks.

“Blueberry pie. Had a scene that was giving me trouble so decided to make some dough to clear my head.”

“Ah, so you were procrastinating and used tonight as an excuse not to write.”

Hiding a smirk you glance over at him. “You don’t know me.”

He chuckles. “I know you very well, actually.”

“Oh, yeah? What do you know about me?”

“You’re smart, good for a laugh,” he lists, eyes taking you in. You’re dressed in jeans and a warm jumper, though you’ve already kicked your shoes off into a corner somewhere with your socks. “You like to make yourself comfortable whenever possible. When you concentrate you get that funny little crease between your eyebrows.” He reaches out to poke the wrinkle on your forehead. “What’s got you so lost in thought, hm?”

“You were always far too perceptive for your own good.”

“Except when it counted.” He doesn’t mean to say it out loud yet once he does, he can’t take it back. Damn it, can he not go for a whole day without his brain betraying him, bringing up Ruth?

You stop stirring, turning your head to look at him. “You cannot possibly be blaming yourself for what happened.”

Tom busies himself to avoid your gaze and your question. He grabs several of the dishes he just washed and brings them over to the table. “Sorry, didn’t mean to say that. I can’t seem to say the right thing around you lately, can I?”

“If you want to talk about it, I’m here to listen.”

Tom opens his mouth to play it off, to tell you he’s fine. However, when he looks up and meets your eye, his resolve wavers, and that protective shell he’s been trying to build for months crumbles.

“She never told me what happened, why she did what she did,” he says, leaning on one of the kitchen chairs. “Guess I can’t help wondering if there was something I could have done differently.”

You step away from the stove and come up to him. “Look, I don’t have the whole story, only what Shirley could get out while giving me my keys. But from what I heard, it doesn’t sound like it was your fault.”

“We’ll never know, now will we?”

“Probably not,” you agree. “And that sucks. It really does. But it will get better, Tom. I’m sure it doesn’t feel like it, but it will.” So many people have told him that. Yet, he believes it coming from you. Always able to read him so well, you drop the conversation and return to the stove. “Spaghetti should be done soon.”

Tom finishes setting the table and gets you both a beer while you serve dinner. The quiet domesticity of it is not lost on him. He relishes it and enjoys every moment. When he sits down across from you, he can’t help smiling. He lifts his beer. Chuckling, you pick up your bottle as well.

“What are we toasting?” you ask.

“To old friends,” Tom says. “And new beginnings.”

“Is this a new beginning?”

“I’d like it to be.”

You study him for a moment and then tap your bottle to his. “A new beginning then.”

It’s the most enjoyable meal he’s had in a long time. You two spend the time catching up, swapping stories, and updates. You tell him everything you’ve been up to since you left, from the new books you wrote to the places you’ve seen. Tom smiles and laughs so much that his face hurts. He forgot that he likes this, likes being in your presence.

The trailer feels warmer and brighter with you here.

The next thing he knows, it’s hours later and you two are still at the table, spaghetti long since cleared and a half-eaten blueberry pie sitting between you, as well as empty mugs that once held tea.

Tom doesn’t even know what time it is, doesn’t care since tomorrow is his day off. Though, even if he did have to work, he still wouldn’t have cared. It's the first time in a long while that he’s allowed himself to let go. To feel and stay in the moment. And how fitting that it’s with you.

Then again, you’ve always had that effect on him.

“It’s late,” you say after glancing at your phone. “Damn, I didn’t realize how much I’ve been talking.”

“You also ate a fair bit,” he teases.

You flip him the bird. “Very funny.” Tom laughs and it makes your smile wider. “I’ve missed that sound.”

Just like that, the mood shifts. Tom’s hands become clammy and he fiddles with his mug. “About last night,” he says. He’s been avoiding the topic, not wanting to spoil the mood. However, it’s something that needs to be discussed. “I’m sorry.”

It’s hard to tell what you’re thinking. The way you purse your lips leads him to believe he’s struck a nerve. “It’s fine,” you say with a wave of your hand, eyes downcast. “I know you didn’t mean it.” You’re hurt yet playing it off.

Tom hurries to explain himself. “I never said that.”

Your eyes flicker up to meet his. “What?”

“I never said I didn’t mean it. I’m not sorry that I kissed you. I’m sorry for not asking you first.”

He sees your lips part as you inhale and the urge to reach across the table is strong. “Well, I did mean what I said,” you tell him. “I’m not willing to be a distraction or a stand-in for someone else.”

“You never have been and never will be.”

Tom’s thoughts are a jumble. It feels like they’re stumbling over each other, making it difficult for him to decide what he wants to say next. Tentatively, he reaches across the table and holds out his hand. You stare at it for a moment, before laying your palm on his. His long fingers curl around yours.

When he says your name, it’s loaded with emotion. “I had a lot of time to think about that kiss,” he says. “Well, kisses, technically. And do you want to know what happened when I did?”

You nod.

“I lost myself in the memory. When I left your place last night, I couldn’t think of anything else. Kissing you felt like coming home after a long journey.”

“Tom…”

“Wait, wait, just…just let me finish,” he pleads. When you don’t say anything, he keeps going. “I didn’t notice until you left how much you were a part of my life. I loved the time we spent together. Looking back now, I can see it’s because everything is so easy around you. This friendship and these feelings, they’re not messy and complicated. They’re clear and powerful, and nothing I’ve ever experienced with anyone else. No one. Just you.”

Your bottom lip disappears under your top teeth and it conjures all sorts of images in Tom’s mind.

“Maybe it comes too late,” he continues. “But, if what you said last night is true, if your feelings haven’t changed, could we, maybe, give this a go? See where it takes us?”

“Is that what you really want?” Your voice is hopeful, though your expression is oddly schooled like you are afraid to believe what he’s saying, afraid to wear your emotions on your sleeve as you’ve done in the past.

Tom nods. “Yeah, I do.”

You abruptly stand, pushing your chair back so it scrapes against the floor. Tom sits back as well but before he can stand, you’re taking his face in your hands and kissing the life out of him.

With a moan, Tom yanks you onto his lap. You straddle him and his arms slide around your waist, pulling your body flush against his. Bloody fucking hell his memories from last night don’t do it justice. Especially when you’re the one taking the lead, the one slipping your tongue past his lips and moaning as his hands slide down to grab your arse.

He hardens instantly and there’s no hiding it, not when your core is right there, grinding down on his bulge. He wishes neither of you was wearing jeans yet is too focused on your mouth to do anything about it. At least at first.

You draw back to catch your breath, but Tom doesn’t let you get far. He cups the back of your neck, holding you close as he gives an experimental thrust upward. You gasp and he swallows the sound, mouth hungrily searching yours.

“Tom, wait.” You’re breathless when you lean back to look him in the eye. “Are you sure?”

Tom nods without hesitation. “Yes, yes, I’m sure.”

You smile and he briefly loses control, yanking you into a harsh kiss in his excitement. Everything feels good, so bloody good, but also right. This, being here with you, it feels like it’s supposed to be this way. He’s aware there’s still a lot to talk about. Yet, he’s not worried. He knows you two will get there. He’s not going to concern himself about it right now. He’s going to stay in the moment and focus all his attention on making you feel as good as he possibly can.

Evidently, you have your own plan in mind because you reach between you to undo the button of his jeans. Your kiss is broken when you slide onto the floor between his knees.

Tom swallows thickly, lifting his hips to help you drag down his jeans and boxers. His cock springs free, the tip red and already beaded with precum. Your tongue darts out to lick it away and he sucks in a breath at the visual. When your lips wrap around his swollen head, he lets out a smattering of curses. Automatically, his hand reaches for your head, as if to direct you but he stops himself at the last minute and lets it drop to his side.

You catch the movement out of the corner of your eye. Pulling off with a lewd pop, you grin up at him. “It’s alright, babe. You can put your hand on my head.”

Tom doesn’t need to be told twice, especially when you take him into your mouth like that and slowly inch your way down his pulsing shaft. His hands immediately come to rest on your head and he pushes you down while he gives a small thrust up.

He feels your throat constrict around his tip and it rips a moan out of him. You glide back up, coating him in your saliva before taking him in again, this time with his help. It only takes one or two more times for you to manage to take him all, and when you do, he holds you there for a second, savoring the way you swallow around him.

After that, you’re back in control, bobbing your head up and down on his lap, taking him as far as you can every single time.

Tom drags his eyes open, head thrown back from the Incredible pleasure. When he looks down at you, you’re already staring up at him and the visual knocks the breath from his lungs.

You pull off with a gasp, your hand wrapping around his cock and stroking him while you catch your breath. Your thumb swipes at the string of spit and precum connecting your wet bottom lip to the head of his cock before your tongue darts out to clean it away.

“Fuck!” Tom swears. “I’m not going to last long if you look up at me like that.”

Smirking, you continue to stroke him with your hand while your mouth starts to suck at his quivering thighs. He knows he’ll have marks in the morning and that only makes him groan louder.

“I’m sure I can draw this out for you,” you pant, letting your lips run up and down along his shaft before your tongue takes a bold lick. “If you want me to.”

Tom is torn. Part of him wants to grab your head again and thrust himself down your throat until you gag. The other part wants to tear your clothes off, to get you naked so he can touch and taste…

You don’t give him a chance to decide. As if reading his mind, you take him into your mouth and hollow your cheeks, sucking hard enough for him to see stars. His hips are constantly jerking now. His hands grip your head and he lets go, lets you take the reins because right now he’d probably die if you stopped.

Tom feels himself getting close, feels the way his balls draw up and the pleasure reaches its crescendo.

He comes in your mouth, lost in the way he coats your tongue and makes your movements slicker, stickier. You keep going, keeping sucking him down until he relaxes in the chair, panting like he’s just run a marathon. When you pull off, he opens his eyes in time to watch you swallow.

Head pillowed on his lap, face inches from his softening cock you smirk. “You doing alright there, love?”

He doesn’t answer, has no words at the moment. All he does is grin and reach for your arms, pulling you up as he stands. His legs are wobbly and you both stumble, bursting into a fit of giggles even as he kisses you. He doesn’t care that he can taste himself, he just wants to feel your mouth on his.

Stepping out of his jeans, tripping a little over his shoes, he pulls you towards the bedroom. You follow, your lips never leaving his until he bumps into the door.

“Careful!” you laugh. “Don’t hurt yourself.”

“I’d have a fun time trying to explain that injury.”

You grab the hem of his shirt and help him pull it off. Now he’s completely naked while you’re fully dressed. That won’t do. He needs to see your body, to touch and taste as much of it as he can. He reaches for your jeans and you stop him.

For a brief moment, doubt creeps in and he has the mental image of someone else stopping him, someone else excusing herself right when they get started.

That goes away when you force him to sit on the bed, giving him a quick kiss before stepping back. You’re not leaving, you’re teasing, and that grabs his attention away from the painful memory. You grab the hem of your jumper and pull it off, showing him the lacy black bra underneath.

Tom nearly swallows his tongue. When you wiggle your jeans down your hips, he catches sight of matching knickers and realizes, you’ve thought of this. Even though you weren’t sure of his feelings or intentions, you still wore something sexy for him. Just in case.

He can’t keep his hands to himself. Pulling you forward, he drags you onto his lap again, mouth hungrily devouring yours. The need to touch and explore overrides everything else and Tom carefully turns the both of you until you’re lying on the bed, underneath him.

When he draws back, the loving look you give him is like a punch to the gut. No one’s ever looked at him the way you are now. You reach up to run your hands through his curls and he snags your wrist, placing feather-light kisses there, then along your arm, in the crook of your elbow, up to your shoulder, and then ultimately to your neck where he wraps his lips around a spot and sucks greedily.

Your gasp turns into a moan as his hand cups your breast. The black lace is scratchy against his palm so he tugs it down, needs to feel skin-on-skin while he feasts on your throat. Your back arches, bringing your breast right into his eager hand. He thumbs your nipple, tweaking and teasing it until it becomes stiff.

Tom leaves your neck, bending his head to take the now hard nub between his lips. He flicks his tongue over it once, twice, then swirls in slow circles. You moan, hands burying themselves in his hair, now unruly from your fingers. He tugs down the other bra cup, switching his mouth to that nipple while his hand continues to squeeze and knead the other.

When he draws back to look at you, your pupils are dilated and it takes him right back to those feelings that surfaced yesterday in your kitchen. Except for this time, he knows what they are and can’t wait to explore them.

You sit up just enough to unhook your bra and toss it aside. Tom lays gentle kisses from one breast to the other, giving them a final appreciative squeeze as he starts to descend your body. Tongue and lips leave a visible trail of kisses while his hands, so eager, run down to grip your thighs. He wants you to know where he’s headed, what he wants to do to you, to give you the chance to stop him.

You don’t. You urge him on. “Tom, please, touch me,” you say breathlessly, biting your lip as his tongue briefly teases your belly button.

“Can I taste you instead?”

You suck in a breath and he looks up at you, waiting for the nod of approval before hooking his fingers under your knickers. He draws back, pulling them down and eventually off, finally leaving you completely naked beneath him.

His imagination failed him. You’re gorgeous and nothing could have prepared him for the way his heart races when he finally sees all of you.

His hands slip under your knees so he can spread your legs open. You’re so wet and glistening for him and he hasn’t even properly touched you yet. The realization that he’s the one to do this to you, the one to make you aroused from only kissing and groping, does something to him.

All that self-doubt, all that worry, and concern about himself disappears. It wasn’t his fault. He didn’t do anything wrong.

He slides down the bed, lifting your legs over his shoulders in the process. At the first swipe of his tongue, your body jerks in surprise, only to relax into the mattress. Your taste lacks comparison. The heady, unique flavor quickly becomes his favorite the more he laps at you. With his thumb, he gently rubs a circle around your nub, emboldened by the way you moan his name.

He loves the way it sounds coming from you. His name has never been sweeter.

Tom wraps his lips around that sensitive spot and sucks, having to take hold of your thighs to keep your hips from jerking off the bed. Your fingers pull on his curls when they tighten their grip and it lets him know he’s doing good, giving you what you like.

He loses himself, his lips and tongue in a constant state of movement, swiping, teasing, flicking, stroking, over and over again until sweat breaks out across your body. Your thighs trap his head but he’s too busy to notice.

When he slips his tongue inside you, he can feel your body clench and it makes his cock start to swell. Imagining what that will be like, he moans himself and notices that you gasp when he does. So, he does is a second and third, until he's humming and tasting, wringing an orgasm out of your shuddering, constantly moving body. Eventually, his mouth returns to your nub. He slides two fingers into you, moaning when your walls cling to them. Rubbing and crooking them just the right way causes swears to tumble from your lips.

Your voice calls out to him in warning but he doesn’t let up. It only urges him on, makes him suck, and rub hard until your body is convulsing underneath him. Seconds later, you go limp, your chest heaving.

Tom’s panting when he pushes your legs off his sweaty shoulders, sitting back on his heels to look down at you. You look more beautiful than ever. The post-orgasmic smile that graces your features makes his heart threaten to burst from his chest.

Wiping his mouth on the back of his hands, he crawls up over you. You reach up to pull him down, touching your two naked bodies together for the first time.

Tom moans, stealing another kiss. Your hands run up and down his back, leaving a trail of goosebumps. Your body shudders and he briefly notices the coolness of the room. Blindly, he feels around for the comforter and draws it up to cover you both. The action breaks the kiss and allows you to speak.

“Make love to me, Tom,” you beg, your forehead pressed to his.

He shifts and presses his cock to your core, lightly grinding so his length drags through your wetness. He’s now slick with you and the thought is too much to handle. Part of him wants to take things slow and savor, yet another part, a part he’s silenced for a long time, wants him to go for it, to take you and make you his.

Tom cups your cheek and draws his head back so you’re eye to eye when he pushes into you for the first time. He gets to see the way your eyes widen before fluttering closed and hears your sudden inhale of breath as you throw your head back into his pillow. And when he’s buried to the hilt, filling you completely, he says your name, whispers it like a prayer.

Despite his hormones urging for more, he takes you slowly. He’s not in any rush. Why would he be? Everything he wants is right in his arms. The world outside his trailer no longer exists.

You are his world.

Your legs wrap around his waist and you pull him in each time he draws out, making sure he buries himself with every thrust. Your mouths cannot break away from each other. Over time, the energy in the room shifts. Gentle, lazy kisses start to turn, become eager, biting, hungry.

Tom starts to move quicker, deepening his thrusts until he’s grinding into your pulsing heat. Good god, he can feel you clench so much better than he could with his tongue or fingers. It’s like you’re squeezing the life from him and he doesn’t care in the slightest. He wishes for it, wants your body to clench his cock so tight it leaves an imprint of himself inside you. He’s well aware that’s not how that works but it doesn’t stop him from wanting it. Your heels dig into his backside, spurring him on.

Tom’s mouth seeks your throat, kissing and sucking as the mattress groans along with you. He wishes this could last forever, that he could stay inside you until the end of time. His body is shaking from exhaustion, aching, and trembling after being disused for so long. But he can’t stop, won’t stop until he makes sure you cum. He did it once, he can do it again. Needs to do it. Needs to feel it around his aching cock.

Needs one more reminder that he’s the reason you’re coming undone.

His hand pushes down under the blanket, gliding along the swell of your hip, then slipping between your grinding bodies. His thumb finds your oversensitive nub and you cry out at the first swipe.

“Tom! Tom, I’m close, so close. Please, more. Give me more!”

His thrusts aren’t gentle anymore, haven’t been ever since he started climbing his own peak. A few more sloppy rubs and you’re cresting that hill for a second time, your tight cunt clamping down on him and sending him toppling over the edge as he comes inside you.

Even then, he keeps going, his mouth seeking yours as he fucks himself through his release. This is nirvana, this is his happy place. He knows he’s done for. All those crystal clear feelings couldn’t be more front and center than they are now. He loves you. Most likely, part of him has always loved you yet he was blind to it. Until now.

He makes a silent vow that he won’t be blind to you ever again.

You both collapse in a sweaty, panting heap.

Your hand hasn’t stopped stroking his back and as he comes back to himself, he finds your other hand running through his curls. His cheek is pressed just above your breast, hot breath ghosting across your skin.

“That was…” When you trail off, he pushes his head up to look at you. “Tom, that was…” His smile falters as that sliver of fear comes back for just a second. “Fuck, I’ve never been made love to like that before.”

And just like that, the fear goes away. “Yeah?” Tom asks, a smile spreading across his face.

You nod, cupping his face so you can drag him into a kiss. “Yes. You blew my fucking mind.”

Tom deepens the kiss, his thumb stroking your cheek. He feels himself slip out of you and his heart slams against his ribcage when you whimper at the loss. He rolls onto his side, bringing you with him so you’re face to face, limbs tangled together.

“You’re beautiful,” he says, thumb tracing your bottom lip. “Bloody hell, the way you make me feel.”

You kiss him once, twice, then a third before finally laying your head on the pillow. “Now you know how I’ve been feeling all this time.”

If this is what you’ve been feeling, he could kick himself for waiting as long as he had.

“What happens now?” he asks, afraid of the answer yet needing it all the same.

You trail your fingers up and down his arm, making him shudder. “Now, we sleep. And tomorrow, we’ll wake up, have breakfast, have sex again, then I’ll get some writing done and you lay here naked, distracting me from said writing.”

Tom grins, biting his lip in excitement. “I think I can do that,” he says, pulling you close. “What about after tomorrow?”

“Whatever we want, Tom. The world is ours for the taking.”

“Think I might like to travel some.”

“Well, if I finish this book, there’ll be a tour. I’d love for you to join me.”

“What’s the book about?”

“A woman goes on holiday and meets a handsome handyman who is as beautiful inside as he is out. He’s kind, funny, smart, carrying…everything she could ever want and she falls in love fast. He doesn’t right away but, eventually, he comes around.”

Tom’s heart flutters and his nose brushes yours as he nuzzles your face. “How does it end?”

“I don’t know yet. Maybe you can help me figure it out.”

“I think the man falls in love with the woman. Or at the very least, he realizes part of him always loved her. Then I think he asks her to show him the world. Maybe they marry and have a couple of kids. Though that might be too cheesy.”

“I think it’s perfect. He’s allowed his happily ever after just as she is.”

Tom smiles at you and leans in for another kiss. “As long as they’re together, he couldn’t be happier.”

#tom grant #tom make up #joseph quinn #joe quinn #joe quinn make up #joseph quinn make up #tom grant x reader #tom grant x you #tom grant x female reader

[pollenallergie]

cassie my love, i need more of this in my life. getting high post-sex w older!tom just seems soooooo <3

So…. it took me an embarrassing amount of months to get back to you on this but um…. here you go… this took a turn??? and then a swift turn back in the other direction???? so um…. horny whiplash warning??? ig????

Tagging @ali-r3n bc she asked me to and also @ghosttownwherenoonegoes because Eri helped me out with a lot of the british specifics (the britifics??) so thank youuuu

Okay, okay, without further ado:

Your First Introduction to Older!Tom’s Post-Sex Ritual

(except I can’t stick to a prompt)

Word Count: 2.1 k

Warnings: Nudity, allusions to sex and also some *ehm* inappropriate touching, reader has boobies and a bajina.

18+ only!! MDNI!! Minors do not read this!!! This is not for you!!!! This is for adults only!!!

“Fuuuuuck,” Tom exhales as he lays on his back, staring up at your bedroom ceiling.

“Fuck,” you agree weakly, still slowly drifting down from cloud nine. Tom chuckles at your response as he sits up and eases out of bed. You smile at the sweet sound of his laughter, though you don’t immediately register the movement; still just a bit too far gone.

When Tom struts past your line of sight, still naked as the day he was born, on his way out of the room, that movement manages to catch your attention finally. You frown, at first, because you were already missing him, and then because you were disappointed in yourself for already missing him. Casual, this is just casual, keep it casual, you remind yourself. Tom doesn’t do the whole dating thing, you know that, so keep things platonic and casual. Don’t scare him off.

Suddenly, you’re pulled out of your internal self-lecture by the sound of a distant, but not distant enough, crash and Tom exclaiming, “shit!”

You sit up as quickly as you’re able to, your whole body still feeling pretty limp and boneless after Tom spent the better half of the evening pulling as many orgasms from you as he could. Once you’re upright, you call out, “Tom? Are you alright?”

“Yeah! Yeah. Shit! Er, yeah, just, erm- hang on,” Tom calls back. You hear more shuffling and clattering from the other room, and then you hear the undeniable creak in the floorboards from Tom’s heavy-footed steps as he approaches the bedroom. Soon enough, he appears in the doorway, still shamelessly nude but now with a joint in hand and a sheepish expression on his face.

“Have you got a lighter or, er, matches or anything like that? I tried looking ‘round for either of ‘em, but erm… Yeah, I couldn’t find anything,” he asks, his cheeks blushing as he carries on.

“Is that what all that crashing was?” You ask amusedly, failing to stifle the grin that curls on your lips.

“Yeah… I erm, I might’ve knocked some of yer shit over,” Tom admits sheepishly.

“Tommy,” you say, your tone a perfect mix of amused, exasperated, disappointed, and scolding.

“But, but!! But I put it all back, and none of it’s broken. Swear on me granda’s grave,” he promises.

You can’t help but roll your eyes fondly at that before chastising him a bit, good-naturedly, of course, “Don’t swear on that poor man’s grave. Knowing you, you probably already put him through enough when he was alive.”

Tom chuckles, “Fair enough,” he concedes before raising up the joint to draw your attention back to it, and then simply asking, “Lighters? Matches?”

“Er, right. Lighters. Kitchen, the counter to the left of the fridge, top drawer, it’s my catch-all drawer, there should be a few lighters in there, take your pick,” you inform him.

Tom grins at your response as he makes his way over to the bed. His grin widens tenfold and becomes much more smug when he notices your gaze flit down toward his cock, which gracelessly flops around with his strides, still limp and spent from your previous activities. When he reaches your side of the bed, he places his hand down on the mattress near your thigh, using it to support his weight as he leans over and plants a kiss on the crown of your head. He holds his lips there for a few moments, softly inhaling the residual scent of your shampoo as he does so, deciding to allow you both to enjoy this moment of peace without even being truly aware that that’s what he’s doing.

When Tom finally breaks away, he leans down to whisper into your ear, “Don’t get any ideas, love,” he warns cheekily, “You and that heavenly little place between your thighs milked my cock dry; don’t think I’ll be able to get it up again anytime soon,” he finishes teasingly before kissing you again, this time pressing his lips against your cheek to punctuate his teasing.

You scoff and stifle a smile as you push him away. Cocky little bastard, you think.

Tom holds his hands up in surrender as he backs away from the bed, joint still clutched between his index and middle finger and a smug grin still on his face.

“Don’t shoot the messenger, baby. It’s yer fault for bein’ greedy,” he teases as he walks off into the other room, still refusing to put on clothes.

God, how are you supposed to keep your feelings in check when he treats you like that? He’s just one of your mates, and yet he treats you better than many of the dickheads you’ve dated in the past ever had, better than some of your mates’ current partners treat them, even.

As if he can sense that you’ve begun to spiral from the other room, Tom calls out to you, effectively pulling you out of your fretting, “Ay, me lover, think I’m gonna light up and make meesen a bacon butty. You want anything while I’m out ‘ere? Water? Bacon butty? Some wine? This Crunchie you’ve got hidden in your cupboard? Actually, wait, nevermind, I call dibs on the Crunchie.”

“Maybe some wa- Hey, wait, Tom, no! Leave that Crunchie alone! I’ve been saving that!”

Of course, you frantically try to get up to rescue your precious candy bar from Tom’s thieving grasp. However, your legs are still a little unsteady, which forces you to walk to the kitchen looking like a newborn giraffe, all while Tom’s grating (read: annoyingly sexy) chuckle fills the space of your flat.

You find him cock out, lit joint pursed between his lips, standing in front of your stove, hands on his hips, heating up a frying pan for his bacon, and, annoyingly, nowhere near your candy stash.

“I haven’t got any bacon, so, it’ll just be a butty, I’m afraid. No use heating up a pan for that,” you grumble as you walk over to the cupboard where you stash your candy. Might as well snag that Crunchie before he can.

At the sound of your voice, Tom turns around and looks at you, bemused, albeit amused as well, and says, “the fuck are you doing out ‘ere on those wobbly li’l legs, Bambi?”

His words come out a bit muffled, thanks to the joint perched between his lips.

“Thought you were gonna steal my Crunchie,” you shrug and admit sheepishly through a mouthful of chocolate and honeycomb. At that, Tom barks out a laugh, which quickly morphs into a cough from accidentally inhaling during said laugh. He promptly removes the joint from between his lips, ashes it in the makeshift ashtray he’s made out of foil, clears his throat, and goes back to smoking.

“Jesus, you’re a strange one, aren’t you,” he remarks fondly, his voice slightly hoarse from coughing, as he begins to gather the ingredients for his sandwich.

“I’m very serious about my Crunchies,” you reply, half-jokingly.

Tom chuckles as he rifles through your fridge.

“Yeah, I’m well aware of that now,” he replies, pausing to inhale before continuing to speak on his exhale, “Sit down at the table then, yeah? I’ll get you some water and make us some toasties if that sounds alright?”

“Y-yeah, yeah, okay,” you agree awkwardly as you sit down nearby at your kitchen table, watching him as he works on preparing the food.

Soon enough, he comes over to you with a glass of water and that same cheeky smile.

God, that smile will get you in so much trouble someday, won’t it?

“What’s that grin for?” You ask as he sets down the water, though you can’t help but reciprocate it with a smile of your own.

He shrugs before leaning over to press his lips against yours, moaning into the kiss when you needily take the initiative to deepen it, parting your lips eagerly for him. Far too soon for your liking, though, he’s breaking the kiss, pulling away just slightly to look into your eyes with his lovely brown ones.

“Has anyone ever told you that you have really, really great tits?” Tom asks, his voice low, sultry, and serious, but you can see the mischief swimming in his gaze.

You roll your eyes and scoff at his question, leaning back in your seat, though anyone could see the amused smile you fail to keep from tugging at the corners of your mouth.

“Yeah, you have like a million times since we started hooking up,” you reply with a chuckle.

“What can I say? I’m a man of honesty,” Tom teases, making you huff out a laugh; he smiles at the sound of it before holding up the joint in your line of sight and asking, “Do you want to take a few tokes ‘a this while I finish up our sandwiches?”

You nod and purse your lips, and, as if it were already second nature to him, Tom slots the joint between your lips.

Instead of immediately going off to work on the food, he sticks around to watch you take your first few puffs, still leaning down so he’s just about at eye level with you, his hands boxing you in on either side, one palm pressed onto the tabletop and the other holding onto the back of your chair. Meanwhile, you sit diagonally in your seat, facing him and maintaining eye contact as you smoke. The haze of your high slowly but surely begins to set in, lowering your eyelids to a relaxed level and easing your posture. Between your new relaxed state, the sex hair you’re sporting, the fact that you smell like you’ve just got done having sex, the fact that you’re completely naked right now, and the fact that you’re, well, you, Tom thinks you might be one of the prettiest things he’s ever fucking seen in his whole life.

But he mustn’t forget about the toasties!

So, he plants one last kiss on your cheek because, hey, he fucking feels like it. Then, he surprises you by kneeling in front of you to say goodbye to ‘his girls’ (your tits).

“I’ll see you ladies in a minute, yeah? Be good while I’m gone, try not to miss me too much,” he whispers to them, making you giggle.

“Tom, you’re so fucking wei-” That (affectionate) jab immediately dies on your tongue the moment he leans forward and wraps his lips around one of your nipples, engulfing it in the warm, wet heat of his mouth and applying just enough pressure to make a heated, buzzing sensation spread beneath your skin as he sucks on it. Then, just as you feel that pleasant sensation spread down through your core, Tom’s pulling away, but only so he can give your other, neglected nipple the same attention.

Small mewls and moans spill out from between your parted lips as the long forgotten joint, still clutched between your fingers, hovers over your table, where the ashes fall from it carelessly, sure to leave a mark. Once Tom’s had his fill, he places a final kiss to the center of your chest before pulling away completely and leaving to go finish preparing your sandwiches, waltzing back over to the stove as if he hadn’t just done, well, that.

“Tom… what the fuck was that?” You ask breathlessly. Still too bewildered to notice the damage the neglected joint is doing to the surface of your table.

Tom has to stifle a cheeky, mischievous grin as he feigns nonchalance, shrugs, and simply replies, “Just giving the ladies a proper goodbye, love. They get nervy when I leave ‘em just out of the blue. You know, separation anxiety, and all that?” Tom tuts, “Poor girls. Think maybe you should start keeping a couple pictures of me in your bra, one in each cup, so they can still see me when I’m not around.”

“Tommy, you’re ridiculous,” you laugh as he dishes up the toasties onto plates and turns off the stovetop.

“Ridiculous…ly fit? I know, baby, but why don’t you finish that glass of water and eat some of that sandwich before you go jumpin’ me bones again, yeah? Gotta stay fed and hydrated,” He teases you as he brings the plates over to the table.

“Oh, and, you’re ashing on yer table, love,” Tom informs you with a kiss on the head as he sets the plates down and goes to grab a wet rag to wipe the table off with, along with the makeshift ashtray.

“Shit!” you exclaim as you lift the joint away from the table. You hand it to him when he gets back, trading it off for the rag so you can wipe up the mess you’ve made whilst he gets everything else sorted.

Tom tuts and shakes his head, feigning disapproval, “that’s the devil’s lettuce, it’ll do that to you.”

“Shut up, Tommifer,” you reply, feigning annoyance all while sporting an amused smile. He chuckles at that, though he also appreciates the fact that you neglected to call him ‘Thomas,’ his full first name, when you very easily could’ve.

“Eat yer toastie, me birdie,” He says as he nudges you teasingly, “sooner you finish it, sooner I can get back between those thighs, yeah?”

#is this anything??? #this does not mean i’m taking requests again!! just that i’m going back to answer old ones!!! #ask and i shall reply #RJ <3 #older!tom grant #tom grant #tom grant smut #tom grant x reader #older!tom grant smut #older!tom grant x reader #older au #tom grant make up #make up (2019) #joseph quinn characters #joseph quinn x reader #tom grant x you #older!tom grant x you #joseph quinn x you #moots my beloved <3

[grissomesque]

I mean. They'd have been in on it together.

#paramount you sons of bitches remaster voyager so i can make memes that match in quality!!! #if i could draw i would've drawn them straight up grinning at each other #but alas #kathryn janeway #tom paris #janeway & paris #janeway x paris #barbie meme

[pedgito]

Lol not me actually requesting something from someone yikes. But you asked for more Tom requests - what about you and best friend!Tom go on a night out with all your work mates after a long week and everyone keeps treating you like a couple so you play it up and flirt heavily with him but he gets flustered? If you could find a way to take this in a smutty direction I’d love you forever ♥️

author's note: this got a little wordy, i'm sorry, but i couldn't help myself.

cw: 18+ (minors dni), drinking/smoking, flirting, established friendships, oral (f recieving), tom being extra boyfriend-ish

word count: 5.6k

“A drink.” Tom promised, “Only one—come out with us.”

You were always reluctant to venture anywhere outside of work with coworkers. Tom was the only exception, but even that was few and far between.

And Tom’s friends - by association, your coworkers - weren’t the easiest to be around. They were friendly to a degree, but they were men. They get too rowdy and loud and say horrible things about women, whether you were around or not. 

“Just boys being boys.” Your neighbor had told you, a sweet old lady who kept to herself, catching the boys huddled outside of Tom’s caravan on a sticky, hot Friday night.

You never understood it and Tom seemed to always take the brunt of whatever jokes they were telling, but he laughed anyway. He never took himself too seriously, not since Ruth.

He doesn't talk about her much anymore, only in passing when he brings up old memories, but he’s happier now—lighter and more carefree in the way he carries himself. 

He’s a homebody like you, but he’s taking that leap and going on a wild night out, but not without dragging you along with him. 

“Only one?” You've got an inkling that isn’t the truth, and Tom sinks a little, shoulders slumping over his soft, gray cotton shirt. “It’s never only one, Tom.”

“You know I don’t like ‘em,” You argued, scrunching your nose in disgust—it makes Tom chuckle every time, “they always got something to say, they’re always being mean toward you.”

Tom shrugs carelessly, “It’s just fuckin’ around. It doesn’t bother me.” 

Except when it does. Except when it’s almost always cheap shot jokes aimed at his relationship with Ruth and how disastrous it’s ending was—how stupidly oblivious Tom had been to Ruth’s other interests. 

Tom loved her. He couldn’t help it.

And growing up with Tom, you understood it. He loved and he loved hard, he protected the ones he cared about, he was always there, even when people weren’t there for him.

Maybe that was his downfall. But he’s standing here, pride on the line, begging you to go out for drinks despite knowing how much you hate drinking. 

You sigh, using your pointer finger to scratch at the middle of your brow, along the bridge of your nose. 

“I will break a fuckin’ nose if one of them even so much as makes a comment in my direction,” You warn, “or yours.”

Tom snickers softly, pulling you into a tight, warm hug outside of the small work shack, smelling like the sweet cereal he had eaten that morning, both of you still barely awake enough to be ready for the day. 

“They mean well,” Tom defends weakly, not believing much in himself either as he says it, but you both ignore it, “either way, ya’ promised.”

“Did I?” You ask playfully, crossing your arms over your chest as you shrugged him away, “I must be losin’ my memory because I don’t remember that.”

“Not really,” Tom quickly admits, howling out a laugh as you shove him, “hey—we’re mates, that’s gotta count for something.”

“And what about them?” You ask, wondering how you were that much different.

Tom couldn’t put it into words, not now.

Things had changed the moment Ruth fled, the moment you started slipping into his daily routine. There was always a cup of warm tea sitting on his workspace every morning with your name on it.

“Gotcha a cuppa.” He’d mumble around the rim of his own cup.

Meanwhile you’re shoving a freshly packaged duo of sandwiches at his chest, his smile growing wide. One was never enough and you almost always stole half of the second—Tom never cared, the gesture was more than anything anyone had ever done for him. 

He mentioned Ruth’s horrid attempt at pasta once and you nearly balked at the admission, hiding your laugh behind your hand. He’s never had your cooking, but Tom swears nothing can be worse than that.

“S’different.” Tom replies, a piss poor answer.

“Why? Because I’ve got tits?”

Tom hesitates for a brief moment, mouth opened up and posed for a witty remark. It’s drowned out by your hand slapping his bicep and a weary laugh from him as he speaks.

“Fucking hell, you said it! Not me.”

“Is it true?” You ask despite his pain, his fingers squeezing at the sore spot on his arm.

Tom would never see it that way. He didn’t care one way or the other. But, you two melded together easily; quick banter, easy but sharp jokes that neither of you took seriously. Things were genuine, unforced, and you were the only person he actually made an effort to see outside of work—everything else was just coincidence or coercion on the part of Tom’s other friends.

“No, no,” Tom says forcefully, seeming offended that you would even ask, “what—you think I’m like them too?”

Another shrug that Tom can’t decipher, your hand reaching for the doorknob, “Just checking—see you tonight.”

Tom snorts out a soft hmph, “Go easy on ‘em, yeah?”

“Not a fuckin’ chance.” 

You’ve managed your way through two rounds of shots, taking the first one in stride before sipping gingerly at the second and sneaking it Tom’s way, letting him down the rest.

He’s got a hand on the small of your back, a comforting gesture but possessive nonetheless. It’s more of a, stay near me and don’t stray for your own good, type gesture—rather than a, you’re mine. Regardless, you lean into the touch and shove the third round of shots his way. 

“Nice to see Tommy finally bring you out with him,” Jason, a friend of Tom’s you’ve only spoken to a few times, pipes up a few spots down the bar slab, “least he doesn’t talk about Ruth anymore”.

“Hey,” Tom replies in warning, throwing the shot back, “fuck off, man.”

Another one of his friends speaks up, the one that’s always a bit too rowdy, less filtered, and terrible at social cues.

“He’s right, mate—she’s a looker, too.” 

The counter creaks in the silence that falls over, Tom’s touch tightening in the fabric of your wool knit sweater, a silent plea that begs you to back down.

He glanced around briefly, all eyes staring back at him.

“What—What did I say?”

“Thanks.” You reply, cutting through the awkward silence.

Tom visibly relaxed, clearing his throat and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He sways a little, his hand reaching out to rest on the barstool to steady himself.

“Alright, mate?” Jason asks, “Thought you had a little more in you than that—“ his eyes flick up toward you, teeth glinting behind a smirk, “seems like you’ve got a night ahead of you.”

The realization dawns on you, the closeness you two held—and with the thick skulls and empty heads of most of those men, they had no idea where your relationship with Tom landed, just that you two were close now and that had to mean you two were shagging, or at least thinking about it. 

Tom goes red in the face, ears blossoming pink. It was partly the alcohol, but his hand drifting away from you is a small inclination that he sees the line being crossed—and maybe you were feeling a little bold tonight, but you lean further into him. 

“Nothing I can’t handle,” You quirk your head at Tom slightly, his eyes bulging a little, “right, Tommy?”

It makes him squirm, the nickname sounding foreign on your tongue. He liked the way you said his name. Tom. It was light, but strong—you only ever said it when you were really trying to prove a point or get his attention, but it drove him mad in the best way.

He doesn’t know when the feelings developed or how they’ve gotten so intense, but standing in front of you now, watching you openly agree with the notion that you two might be going home together, even if it’s just a ruse to fuck with his friends, has his insides twisting in knots.

Tom laughs nervously, agreeing without thinking.

“Told you,” You hear a whisper, a jab of an elbow in the side of one of his other friends, briefly glancing up at Tom, “about time you finally move on from that odd one—Ruth, yeah? Girl always gave me a vibe, ya know?”

The bitter memories still linger, always reappearing at the sound of her name and you can see it, watching as he visibly recoils in on himself.

There’s no telling how often this happens, how frequently they leave Tom at the end of the line, constantly directing their bad, poorly timed jokes at him.

You roll your eyes, remembering Tom’s plea to remain civil, instead directing your attention toward him, hoping that whatever bold course of action you decided to take would deter his friends away. 

“Dunno what she was thinking, he’s a keeper,” You interrupt, shoving Tom gently with your shoulder, “sweet, a good fuckin’ laugh—“

“Least one of us is getting laid, yeah?”

A weird course of questions to take, but again—boys will be boys. 

“It’s a wonder.” You joke coarsely, but Tom notices the hint of your deadpan delivery, biting on his bottom lip to stifle the laugh threatening to escape. 

Tom looks flushed still, finger tracing the outline of his shot glass as a line of Guinessen hits the bar top—it’s his weakness, always getting him absolutely hammered. You’ve seen it once, cleaned it off his couch after a wild night out and him showing up at your doorstep in tears. The night was blurry now, but there were a lot of secrets spilled, learning more about Tom than you’d ever planned, and in turn, a few things about yourself.

It’s part of the reason you don’t mind flirting with Tom. He’s always been there, a guy that was easily everything you could see yourself starting your life with.

After a while, you spill into a booth. It’s a large round table with just enough room for everyone, except you. Tom nearly offers his own seat up, but you’re moving before he can decide, squeezing yourself onto his lap. 

He visibly stiffens, his hand scolding hot against your skin from where it’s resting in the curve of your hip.

You catch the long, offstandish looks from across the table—a couple guys you didn’t know at all, snickering at Tom’s discomfort (or nervousness, it seemed) and making it even worse on him. 

He doesn’t blame you—you were trying to make things less awkward, ease the burden, but now he has no clue how to respond. Touch you more? Touch you less? Does he go bold and make a move or should he just excuse himself and say it’s been a long day and head home.

And if you weren’t annoyed before, you were surely annoyed now and feeling a bit too protective over Tom as you look over, his face in perfect eyeline with your own.

“Too much?” He mouths, his legs parting slightly as you straddle his thigh, the movement nudging you forward and against the table, ass sliding back an inch.

Neither of you speak on it, but you can feel it. He tenses even more, but it seems less nervous.  

You shake your head, glancing up at the two obnoxious men briefly before returning to him, “Not enough.” You whisper, lips grazing against his temple at the action, leaning back to look at him for a moment.

He almost panics, but then you’re leaning in and all Tom can do is adapt. He brought this on himself, he remembers. He asked you out tonight, practically begged, and now he was reaping the consequences.

Not that this could be considered a punishment, far from it, actually. 

“Just act like you enjoy it, for their sake.” You tell him softly, a word of warning before your lips are colliding with his own.

They’re soft, not at all a surprise. Your thumb rubs at the joint of his jaw, the beginnings of stubble growing there, a few days past his most recent shave and he makes a noise, something that gets caught in his throat but you feel it, the sound vibrating against the fingers pressed on the side of neck. He opens his mouth briefly (probably to interrupt) and you jump on the chance, sliding your tongue past his lips to graze against his own, and he sighs against you, open-mouthed and husky. 

And just when you feel satisfied enough to pull away, Tom pulls you back in, eliciting a few wolf whistles from his friends.

“Seems like someone’s leaving early tonight.”

Tom pulls away with a deep chuckle, avoiding whatever expression was on your face when he looks away—luckily you’re good at masking the surprise of him going in for seconds, and it’s unspoken, but the energy thrumming between you both was high.

It was better excuse than any, eyebrows raising in question at Tom, silently praying and hoping he would put your misery to end and agree to leaving.

“Yeah, yeah,” Tom nods slowly, turning back to you sheepishly—there’s something behind his eyes, those wide, beautiful eyes; but he forces it back, turning back to his friends, “you assholes drink enough for me, yeah?”

“Not a problem, mate.”

The keys jingle around Tom’s finger as the heavy door closes behind you, gravel shifting under your feet.

“So,” Tom drags out, chewing at the inside of his cheek, “what was all that about?”

You turn back to him slightly, seeing him stuck in place, leaning against the brick wall now, still and unmoving.

“You like being shit on like that?” You ask, deadpan and serious. 

“Oh, what are you on about?” Tom asks, a groan on the horizon as he tips his head back, reaching for the pack of cigarettes in his pocket—he’s been nursing it for a few weeks, only smoking when he’s feeling really stressed, but now it seemed as a means to avoid the conversation.

You were having none of it.

“It’s always like this,” You argue, yanking the small pack from his grip and tossing it in the trash, “don’t start with that—you only ever smoke around them, you only act a certain way around them—what is it, Tom? What are you trying to prove?”

“Nothin’—why do you care even?” Tom asks, hands splayed out in midair, still confused at your sudden outburst. “Know what, I’ll do you one better—the hell was that in there? Flirting with me, kissing me—“

“And you needed to have your hands on me all night?” You counter, a vicious response that has Tom recoiling in on himself, “What exactly are you telling those fuckers when I’m not around?”

“You think I talk to them like that?” Tom asks, offended by the accusation. 

“Nice to see you finally bringing her out with you,” You mock in a low voice, lazily stepping toward Tom, arms folded over your chest in defense, a way to comfort yourself, “finally—really?”

“S’not my doing!” Tom snaps, forehead creasing in frustration as he pushes from the wall, meeting you halfway in your walk toward him, “They’re always talkin’ about how you look at me, touching me all the time—they just assumed.”

“Assumed what, Tom?” You ask carefully, voice soft but dangerous—a double-edged sword that worries Tom.

You’re lucky the parking lot is barren of people, everyone packed inside the bar. Tom sighs, a forceful breath through his nose.

“That why you ask me out tonight?” You question, “Tryin’ to paint me as yours, are you?”

“Fuck,” Tom groans in exasperation and the expletive shouldn’t invade your mind that easily, the audible frustration in his voice as he continues, “s’just—we’re close, ya know. They have questions, I never tell them anything. I’d never—I wouldn’t do that.”

You let out a short, bitter laugh. Tom seems to have sobered a little at that, despite the alcohol on his breath. 

“What? Don’t take me for a good shag, no?” You tease, the words hitting Tom fast and hard and he’s interrupting just as quick.

“You lost your fuckin’ mind?” Tom asks, your silence a louder response than ever, “I meant I’d never disrespect you like that.”

You shake your head slightly, stubbornly. Tom can’t take it anymore, full to the brim with annoyance at how dense you’re being. 

He can’t help how easily you drive him mad, to the point of rash decisions and thoughts and he’s hauling forward before he can think, gripping your forearm to pull you around the back wall of the bar, a dark alley hidden away from everything else and private, quiet.

“Fuck is your problem?” You ask, yanking your arm away. 

“You.” Tom answers boldly, chest heaving heavily, struggling to take the deep breaths he knows he should.

“I was only trying to ease the teasing, Tom.” You reassure him, “They were laughing and I didn’t think—I kissed you to shut them up and I’m sorry but—“

“But?” Tom reiterates, eyebrows raising inquisitively.

“You didn’t need to kiss me back.”

“And I did.” 

You nod slowly, taking a long, calming breath despite your heart hammering in your chest. It was anger and everything that came with it, but it was also fear, excitement, the type of things that cloud your thinking and lead you toward making bad choices. 

Was this a bad choice? 

Tom’s eerily quiet, eyes directed toward the ground and hand rubbing the tense muscle of his neck.

You sigh quietly, speaking first.

“Let’s go.” You tell him, eyes pleading when he looks up at you. “Please?”

Tom relents, but the drive back is anything but easy; because everything with Tom was easy and now—you couldn’t even look at him. 

He pulls into his driveway before yours, forcing you to finally speak up.

“Tom, this isn’t mine.” You remind him, wondering if he was as hammered as his friends were teasing him about.

“No shit,” His voice cracks when he talks, “Come on.”

When you’re finally inside, no arguments to be had, Tom’s reaching into the fridge and pulling out a pair of beer bottles, cracking open the lids against his chipped countertop. He forces the beer into your hand, motion toward the small dining table. 

“I’m not in the mood for drinking, Tom.” You reply, taking the seat he demands, eyes following your movements. 

“You drive me mad.” Tom admits, his teeth seething around the word, taking a long sip that spills down his lips briefly, the bottle ringing as it hits the table, his fingers tracing the perspiration as the silence grows, your heart swelling in your chest.

Tom had a habit of leaving you speechless—usually it was crass jokes and ridiculous things you couldn’t find the nerve to respond to, but this was different.

“I promise ‘em weeks ago that I would go out,” Tom admits, “and it was stupid of me to think you wanted to hang out with them—I should’ve blown them off, grown a fuckin’ pair and invited you out.”

“Tom—“ You interrupt softly.

“It’s not that I’m scared,” Tom continues, “just don’t wanna ruin what we have—but there’s so much—I can’t help thinkin’ about you and not in the way makes you an absolute nuisance sometimes—“

“Oh, fuck you.” You retort, a giggle settling in your chest.

“I dunno if you even look at me that way,” Tom shrugs, feeling ridiculous, “but I can’t lie to you anymore.”

“Tom,” You start again, his name on your tongue making his cock twitch in his pants, “I make you fuckin’ lunch everyday, I suffer going out with your obnoxious friends, I let you hang all over me and you think I don’t look at you that way—“

“Should’ve done things like this,” Tom laughs to himself, self-deprecating and sipping at the lingering few ounces left in the bottle, “dunno why I forced you out tonight.”

“You didn’t force me,” You shrug, “—didn’t force me to kiss you either.”

Tom laughs slightly, his body shaking with the movement.

“Where do we go from here?” Tom asks, feeling lost in this area anymore, after Ruth. 

“Tom,” You say, voice lingering and teasing as you glare at him, head cocked to the side, “you brought me back here, didn’t you?”

He nods, unsure of where you were going. It’s sweet, endearing in the idea that he’s completely lost. 

You make the first move, resting the half empty bottle on the countertop behind him before you’re shifting over his lap, the contact of your bare thighs against his palms bringing him back to the surface, half empty beer bottle clanging to the floor behind you—

“Fuck, the mess—“ You glance back toward the noise but Tom’s quickly distracting you, a hand on the side of your face to guide you back to him.

“Yeah,” He nods, “fuck it.”

You nod silently in agreement, smiling as he leans forward to press his lips against yours. It’s hesitant, new, different from the kiss in the bar—that was performative, a means to an end.

This kiss was everything else. A first for you both—it was the first time Tom had kissed anyone outside of Ruth and for you, it was strange, kissing your best friend. But, it felt good. It felt right.

Tom sighs into your mouth, lips parting in a motion that allows his tongue to slip out, testing the waters as he grazes your top lip, his brow furrowing in concentration as your thighs tighten against his hips, rising on your knees as his hands traverse and explore lower, his fingers grazing the skin under your skirt, the loose fabric bunching around your hips, feeling futile and useless. 

It’s not long before there’s less coordination and more of your bodies rubbing against each other in a desperate need for relief, kisses having melded into breathing wantonly into each other’s mouths and Tom is the first to speak, breaking the comfort silence that had fallen over.

“S’not fair,” He whines softly, his hands appearing at your neck, fingers disappear into the root of your hair as he angles your chin up, giving him perfect access to exactly where he wanted to be, his lips latching onto the skin and your pulse stuttering under the touch, “god, it’s not fair.”

You pull back curiously, fingertips grazing the red tips of his ears, a sated smile on his. “What are you on about?”

“I promised myself I wouldn’t rush into things again,” Tom admits, his voice low, like he’s telling a secret he shouldn’t, “I’ve only ever been with her, haven’t been with anyone since—don’t wanna disappoint you.”

“That’s too bad,” You pout slightly, feeling a buzz flow through you, and given that you don’t drink often, it seems like that may be the culprit, “really wanted to get off tonight, but—“

“No, no—fuck, s’just, I don’t have anything here.” Tom explains, “It’s not on my mind lately, plus it’s usually just me—“

“Oh?” You perk up, voice airy as lean into, lips grazing his own briefly. He huffs a short laugh into your mouth. 

“Yeah, sorry—“

“Don’t be,” You swiftly assure him, “M’not judging. It’s kind of…sweet, actually.”

“That I’m jackin’ off every night?” Tom asks, pulling back with an ire of confusion on his face. “Love, I think you’ve had too much to drink—“

“That you’re not fucking a different girl every other night—not that there’s anything wrong with it. But, look at James,” Tom nods knowingly, “he up and skipped town because he knocked that one girl up, the last thing on my mind is kids or relationship, but I like you, Tom.” 

“I’d hope so,” He chuckles, “since you’re already pressed up against my cock and all—can’t even tell you the last time I thought about another girl that wasn’t you.”

You settle slightly, cunt pressed tightly against the zipper of his jeans, the hard and heavy line of his cock pressing against you. Tom hisses at the contact.

“So, you’re touching yourself to me?”

“S’that bad?” He asks, hoping it won’t send you running in the other direction.

You shake your head, adding a small tilt of your hips to drive him deeper into insanity, his hands latching onto your hips in an instant.

“Wanna tell me what you’re thinkin’ about?”

“Right now?” Tom asks, answering before you can respond, “You. This—how I’m probably gonna wake up and it’s just some fucked up dream I’m havin, my mind teasing me.”

You laugh at his rambling, pulling him back into focus with a cant of your hips, hands slipping under the hem of his shirt and pressing against bare skin, the soft outline of his toned chest. He’s proper fit, not defined, but he’s solid and sturdy and has enough strength to lift the heavy piles of supplies at work. 

“I meant when you touch yourself, Tom.”

“Oh, uh—mostly your tits, I guess.” Tom admits, “You never button your tops when we work, can’t help it. And uh, your mouth.”

You nod in response, lending your lips to press against the side of his jaw, mouth a wet, sloppy trail along the skin.

“Yeah—yeah, like that, but—“ Tom sighs shakily, his fingers digging into the soft, suppleness of your ass, thumbs pressing against your hip bones and rubbing you slowly against his groin, “mostly on my cock, too.”

“Is that what you want?” You ask softly, “My mouth around your cock?”

Tom laughs nervously, “Yeah—I just—I got something else in mind.”

“Yeah?” You question, the tone in his voice making you curious, body straightening as you look at him.

“Yeah,” He confirms, “Table.”

It’s a one word response. Not a question or a statement. A demand. And normally you’d throw a hundred questions his way, but you can’t be bothered, quickly lifting yourself up a few inches to sit atop the table, sturdier than you expected.

“You trust me, yeah?” Tom asks, more reassuring himself than you, but he needed to hear it. 

“With everything.” You answer without hesitation, watching as he sank to his knees, hands wrapping around your upper thighs to pull your ass flush with the edge of the table. “Why?”

“Just checking.” He shrugs, lopsided smirk painting his face.

That was the Tom you knew, the one you saw everyday. The one that cracked jokes and playfully shoved you out of his way when he was walking down the hall toward the arcade, the one who, despite his obnoxious tendencies, would kneel to tie your laces back up when they came undone.

Except now he was kneeling for different reasons, pupils blown wide as he yanked at your underwear, slipping them over the tattered shoes still stuck to your feet, knowing that all of this was spur of the moment and rushed. You were both running on pure adrenaline and booze, but there were worse ways to spend your night.

“You ever—“ Tom lingers around the words, not saying but implying.

You shrug, noncommittal.

“Only a few times. Never came, though.”

It always sucked. Tom gets the idea, smiling slightly as he leans, teeth latching into the flowy material of your skirt and dragging it up, his lips dragging along the soft skin of your stomach as his nose nudges the sweater up too. 

You were braless underneath, unbeknownst to him. He could figure it out himself, but at the moment, he was much too eager to delve in and consume you.

He latches onto you with no warning, lips suckling at your clit for a brief moment, an intense sensation that has you keening off the table, fingers disappearing into his hair and holding on tight, his short cropped curls giving little to keep you grounded.

He moans still, trailing down to dip his tongue inside of you, a feeling that is indescribable to you now, lost in the feeling. 

It’s ridiculous. No one - not a single fucking soul - should be this good, this easily tuned in to your body, but Tom knows. He knew everything and nothing in the same note and it drives you mad. He knew you—your deepest insecurities, your darkest secrets, the weird little quirks you had when you thought no one was watching. But he also knew you and everything that made you tick; the moans and whimpers fell like a flood, his tongue working tirelessly against your cunt, all soaking and wet as it drenched his mouth, his chin, the ludicrous sound enough to make anyone embarrassed. Your head falls back, hands moving away from his hair to grip the table for purchase and he’s tapping at your thighs for attention, a small movement of his finger. 

And he’s staring—full on grinning behind what part of your cunt was covering his face, skirt having fallen slightly and bunched into his hand to keep it away.

He’s daring you to look at him, watch him bring you to the edge and let him watch as you fall apart.

You let him—but it’s a steep reminder of how easily you’d let him do anything; just a look and you were done for. His eyes said a lot, even in the moments when you were silent, staring each other down from across the room. 

You clench around the tongue that’s buried inside you, his nose rubbing against your clit in a beautiful accident, forcing a surprised gasp from your chest as you lean forward, nearly sitting upright. 

“Oh, right there,” You acknowledge, voice light and airy, “fuck, right there, Tom.”

He moved up a fraction, tongue flicking over your clit wildly, stopping briefly with a question posed on his lips, all shiny and wet with you.

“Your tits—can I see them?”

He feels silly, like he’s back in school and asking a girl for the first time and you laugh, which makes it even more nerve wracking.

“Thought you said it wasn’t because of the tits,” You tease, “that I’m just like all your other mates.”

“You know you’re not,” He tells you, “you’ve never—you’re so much more, you know that.”

You smile slightly, nose scrunching up at the action as you stare at him accusingly, “Alright then, go on.”

He looks surprised almost that you’re asking him, leaning forward an inch more until his hands can sift under your sweater, pulling the fabric over your head in one fluid movement. 

He’s stricken, eyes wide and puppy dogged as he licks at his bottom lip, rising slightly as he nods toward your chest, “You were like that all night?”

You nod shyly, feeling bashful as his hands graze your sides, thumbs rubbing along the underside of your breasts. He’s drinking you in, distracted enough that he doesn’t feel your hand graze the front of his jeans until you have them half undone, fingers toying with the waistband of his boxers.

“How long you been like this?” You ask, hands grazing over the small wet patch in the material, fingers cupping the hard line of his cock, shoving his jeans down an inch further. “Since we got here, since we left that bar—“

Your words drift and lull, dragging out as he felt ashamed to admit it. 

“Wasn’t that bad until you sat on my lap,” Tom admits, “and then you fuckin’ kissed me—“

“Yeah?” You reply, pulling him forward gently by the front of his shirt, pressing your lips against his in a messy exchange, tasting you on him. He moans brokenly, the shift pulling you closer and pressing your bare cunt against his dick, ruining the material further, “You mean like that?”

Tom nods desperately, wanting nothing more to fuck you against every square foot of his trailer.

“S’getting late, Tommy.” You say, a tad antagonizing as you pull away, staring at him sternly, “Should I leave?”

“Fuck, sorry. Sorry.” He apologizes, leaning down swiftly to capture your pebbled nipple between his teeth, mouthing brief at the valley of your breasts in a way that has you giggling out loud before he’s sinking back down and burying his face into your cunt, relentless as his pace is furious from the jump.

His fingers join gradually, thick digit sinking into your pussy and clenching, the movements of his tongue deliberate of your clit as he finds that sweet spot, curling his finger inside you until you’re gasping out loud, both hands shifting to cradle his head.

He encourages it, a small noise of acknowledgement as he moans against you, silently begging you to take what you need, riding out the high of your orgasm against his tongue as you come.

“Hu–oh, fuck.” You sigh, his mouth overstimulating as he laps you up, “Tom–fuck, Tom, too much.”

Tom laughs, finally releasing you to nestle between your legs, smoothing your skirt down as he hooks you knees around his hips, “Come ‘ere,” Tom whispers, tipping your chin up until you lean forward, connecting your lips in a gentle kiss.

“Tom–Tom, hey,” You tell him softly, trying to garner his attention, hands reaching for his opened jeans, “let me–”

“Mmm, yeah–’s okay.” Tom assures you, looking sheepish as he glances down toward your fingers trailing against the thick band of his boxers, “I uh, already came.”

“Oh,” Your voice is small, a smile creeping on your face, “O–Okay.”

“Next time.” He assures you, nodding slightly as your grin grows wider.

“Next time?” You reiterate, tone playful and inquisitive. 

“Uh, unless I’m reading this wrong,” Tom recoils, “I mean, you’re half naked on the table I fuckin’ eat on, s’not like I planned to kick you after either.”

“We’re really not mates anymore, are we?” You ask, watching as he cracks a laugh, shaking his head.

“Don’t think we ever were.”

And considering your current situation, you don’t think things could ever go back to how they used to be, but you didn’t want them to.

Please consider a reblog if you enjoyed this fic! It’s makes a huge difference. ♡

#tom grant x you #tom grant x y/n #tom grant x reader #tom grant smut #tom grant make up #joseph quinn x you #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn smut #tom grant #joseph quinn #my writing

[inklore]

okay okay and "I'll always want to listen to you" with tom!! (love that you've included him on your list!!) 💕💕

adore you

pairing: tom grant x (f)reader warnings: minors dni, fluff fluff fluff, friends to lovers. etc: this is the first time i’m writing for this sweet boy and he had like ten seconds of screen time so his characterization is hella up to interpretation lmao.

“I’m sorry.” You frown, realize that you’ve spent the last hour rambling; getting lost in your own thoughts, letting all of the frustrations, happiness, excitement, eventful things that had happened to you within the day pour out of you like a stream of exasperation, declarations, gasps, and laughs.

Something that Tom was probably used to from you by now, but something you still felt bad about—getting lost in the stories you needed to get out, that you wanted to tell him. The first person you went to talk to about anything, everything.

It had been like that for the handful of years the two of you had been friends. Tom was always the ear you needed, the friend, the welcome hug, the first thought in your head when anything good or bad happened.

“You’re probably sick of me stealing the thunder of our conversations all the time.” You laugh, press your fingers to your lips nervously, pushing your back into the cushions of his couch a little more.

“No,” he shakes his head, smiling. Reaches out to pull your legs into his lap, pulling you closer to him. “I'll always want to listen to you.”

The small circle he’s rubbing into the side of your ankle makes your stomach flutter, cheeks burn from the smile on them. From the simple act of friendship, of kindness, that feels so much deeper than that in the pit of the organ that’s in your chest—keeping you alive.

You don’t remember when the crush had started, presented itself. Had shown its ugly face ready to ruin everything the two of you had built over the years; the perfect friendship, commitment in each other that went far past the normal understanding of being there for a friend, or being a listening ear, or a shoulder to cry on when it came to shitty breakups.

But ever since the feelings had slipped into your heart you can’t help but catch your breath every time your eyes meet from across a room, when you get put on the same workload and you get to spend a little extra time with him—to mostly goof off and throw things at each other, or sit on the floor and talk. Or after work when he all but drags you to his trailer to have dinner with him, watch his favorite show or film.

Stealing glances at him while his face lights up, while he laughed, smiled, poked fun at you.

Your stomach filled with those cheeky butterflies that made your entire chest feel warm and fingers tremble nervously—wanting to reach out and brush against his cheek, or hold his hand, the thought alone nerve ending, merciless to your insides.

It had been two years since his shitty breakup and there hasn't been anyone since. You’d hate to admit it but after the initial two month respite of it all, Tom had become more himself again. The Tom you knew before he was drained from an awful relationship, a Tom you never let yourself feel anything for because he was in a relationship, because these types of feelings were tricky, scary.

And now you couldn't run from them even if you tried.

If only you could tell him.

“What?” He asks, eyebrows pulled together as he gives you a questionably teasing look.

“What?”

“You’re staring,” he smirks.

“At you?”

“Mhm.” He presses his lips together, turns his attention back to the ankle he’s currently making feel too warm.

“You wish.”

“Oh, is that right?” He gives no warning when he grips your ankle hard, pulling both your feet into the crook of his arm to start tickling the bottoms of them.

“Tom! Stop!” Your shriek, cries, can be heard from miles away you’re sure as you try to kick out of his hold. A mute point that only pulls you closer to him, your butt almost in his lap.

“Admit it then!”

“Admit what?!”

“That you love staring at me,” he laughs.

You want to spit something smart at him but your body's fight or flight is making you want to throw slaps at him to get him off of you. “Fine!” Your breath is heavy in your lungs, exasperated. “I love staring at you!”

After he’s pulled away, let your feet drop back into his lap, he’s grinning at you. “I know. I like staring at you too.”

#tom (make up) x reader #tom grant x reader #tom (makeup) x you #tom grant #tom grant fluff #tom (make up) #tom grant x f!reader #joseph quinn fluff #joseph quinn x reader #tom grant x you #tom grant x y/n #tom grant fic #tom make up #make up 2019 #joseph quinn #tom grant imagine #tom grant x fem!reader #blurb week

[littlelioncub43]

imagine going out for date night with tom grant… but he cant wait until he gets you home, so he pulls the car over to fill you up. better sit still on the way back so you don't spill any of his dessert.

Hnnnnnnnnnnnnnng 😩

He a horny little slut.

"C'mere, love," Tom whispers hotly against your kiss-swollen lips, his hands already tugging you across the center console and into his lap.

"What're you up to, Tommy?" You chuckle and crawl over the console. The small car was awkward and cramped, making you both snort in a fit of lustful giggles as you fought with the strap of Tom's seatbelt.

"Just want my girl, that a crime?" He mumbles as you finally settle into place, his lips attacking yours once more before you can tell him that public indecency was, in fact, a crime. The thought quickly leaves you when you feel his hands massage the flesh of your thighs under your dress, but he's pulling back just as fast as he was on you. "Wait, hang on..."

"Oop!" You exclaim in surprise when he, with some struggle, fully reclines the driver's seat with a triumphant grin, the moonlight from the sky dimly illuminating his (quite unfairly) gorgeous face. You giggle at him, loving the way amusement and love seem to pour out of his big brown eyes.

"There, we go, much better," he groans as he lays nearly horizontal, his hands pulling you down to him, "now, c'mere."

The kiss is a mix of tongue and teeth, smiles and moans, a desperate bid to completely devour each other as gently as humanly possible. The throbbing between your legs grows nearly unbearable each time Tom groans, the deep, throaty sounds that vibrate against your ribcage sends shivers up your spine.

Rolling your hips was second nature, the hardness at the front of Tom's "date night jeans" was too enticing to ignore for too long. The relief you feel from the seam of his trousers pulls a thin moan from you, the sound immediately swallowed by Tom.

"Fuck, don't you sound pretty," he mutters through heaving breaths, lifting his hips to match your pace, his mouth now leaving a trail of sloppy kisses and lovebites along the slope of your neckwhile his hands grope your flesh greedily.

"Tommy," you moan into the dark car and grind into him harder, your hands threading through his hair to massage his scalp the way he likes, the way that makes him needy.

"F-Fuck me, darling, h-haa," he moans when your fingers grip his hair at the nape of his neck in a firm hold. "Need you," he whispers into the skin of your neck, "gonna let me have you, darling? Hm? Please?"

The gentle begging really does it for you, Tom knows it. He loves the way you squirm when he asks for your permission to fuck you, the way your thighs tighten around his waist to try relieve the pressure between them; plus he just loves asking. Consent is sexy.

"Yeah, Tommy, you can have me," you agree almost instantly. Tom groans happily and gives your lips a loving kiss. Absolutely filthy, but still loving.

"Thank you, lovie, thank you," he pants as he works on unbuckling his trousers, his hands undoing the buttons of his jeans as fast as he can. A pleased sigh floats from his lips when his cock is released from the confines of his boxers. You barely get a glimpse of it before he's pulling you closer and draping the fabric of your dress out of his way.

"O-Oh, fuck," you moan when his fingers slide the gusset of your soaked panties to the side, the rough pads of his index and middle finger glide through the wetness that pours from your cunt. The pleasure builds steadily as he caresses you, eyes sliding shut, overcome by the steady waves of euphoria that roll upon you.

"God, you're so wet," Tom muses to himself, his fingers petting the soft, wet petals of your pussy until he dips them into you. His eyes stay fixed on your face, watching in rapture as you bask in the pleasure he gives you. The stretch of his fingers sends your hips into motion, each pump of his thick fingers has you grinding into them. You can hear the moans and praises Tom grunts as you ride his fingers.

"T-Tommy," you whine when his fingers aren't enough, "need more, baby, please."

That's enough for him.

He withdraws his fingers and wastes no time lining himself up with your throbbing entrance. With a harsh grip on your hips, Tom carefully guides you on to him. You listen through the pounding of your heart to the breathy gasps and moans that Tom releases. You both share a satisfied moan when you rest flush on top of him.

"Holy fuck!" Tom cries through gritted teeth as your grip on his hair tightens, the sting at his scalp adding to his pleasure. The soft, tight, heat of you was burning him alive, he was already throbbing uncontrollably inside you. You weren't faring any better than Tom was, the stretch of him was always delicious, leavjng you clawing the muscular shoulder beneath your free hand, the fullness of his length seated completely inside you made you light in the head.

The windows of the car have sufficiently fogged up, the darkness of the secluded street now clouded over from the heat of your bodies. Heavy breaths and fluttering whines fill the small space, Tom waiting patiently until you give him the go-ahead. The gentle rocking of your hips is all the confirmation he needs.

"N-No, no, don't," he says and grips your thighs to keep you from moving. Instead he spreads his legs as much as he can in the small car, finding his footing to drive up into you. His pace is slow, letting you get accustomed to him as best he can before his resolve completely breaks. He only lasts a few more thrusts before he's whimpering with you.

"Tommy! Fuck, feels good," you babble as you kiss the sweaty skin of his jaw. The moment you sink your teeth into the sweet spot below his neck, he was a goner.

"A-Ah, fuck!" He whimpers as his hips falter before speeding up, the car rocking with his now heavy thrusts. Those sturdy arms you love wind around your waist to hold you down, giving him better leverage to fuck you.

"Fuck! Fuck! Yes! Tom!" You cry out as he pounds into you, filthy sclickschlickschlick sounds harmonize your cries.

"M'close, lovie," Tom warns in a strained voice, his face flushed red from exertion. "Rub your clit, baby, rub your clit for me!"

He was desperate, you can tell by the sound of his voice alone, but the throbbing of his dick and the faltering of his rhythm were clear indicators of his rapidly approaching end. Your fingers felt nowhere near as good as his does, but they get the trick done. The added pleasure of your fingers playing with your clit has you fluttering around him, each spasm drawing a whimper from your boyfriend. The pleasure mounting in your core was building more and more, until you couldn't take it anymore.

"F-Fuuuuuuuuuuck!" You exclaim when your high finally broke over you, your legs trembling around Tom's lap. The arch in your back grows, giving Tom the perfect view of your sweaty and gorgeous face, the furrow in your brows, the dazed look in your eyes, the way your mouth hung open wide to let out the most pornographic moan— that was his undoing.

"Jesus f-fucking— fffUUUUCK!" He groans loudly and throws his head back, his eyes rolling back as he finishes inside you. You moan at the hot feeling of his cum filling you, instinctively grinding down into him to help milk him dry. Fluttering whines leave your lover as he basks in the sensitivity, his blunt nails digging into the flesh of your ass.

"Ooooooh fuck," he sighs as you relax into him completely, the car now quiet save your heavy breathing. Lazy hands move across your body, tenderly soothing any aches from his frenzied grip. Loving kisses rain down on your head and shoulder, any place he can reach is given a delicate kiss. You can't help but giggle, he makes you too happy.

"You, ok, pretty girl?" He asks with a blissed out smile, mirroring your own.

"Never been better, Tommy."

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#tom grant x you #tom grant x fem!reader #tom grant x female reader #tom grant x reader #tom grant #tom grant make up #tom grant make up 2019 #make up 2019 #make up #joseph quinn characters #little lion literature

[sherifftillman]

Cheers to the Weekend

Pairing: Tom Grant x f!Reader

Genre: smut

Tags: Make Up (film), 18+ (minors DNI), established relationship, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), pillow humping, cmnf (clothed male, naked female)

Summary: You and your boyfriend discuss what to do with your weekend off together.

Word count: 3k

"Babe, I'm here!" Your most favourite words. You jump up from where you'd been sprawled across the couch, running all of about five feet before being able to embrace your boyfriend. He buries his face into your shoulder, humming happily.

"You alright?" You ask as you let go, reaching over to gently intertwine your fingers with his instead.

"'M very tired," he admits with a sleepy smile. "How was your shift?"

"My cheeks hurt from all the customer-service-smiling I've been doing," you admit with a grimace. "Still, that family's the weekend staff's problem now."

"Yep, and now your only problem this weekend is having your annoyingly doting boyfriend constantly wanting to snuggle with you, watch TV with you, maybe go for a little walk on the beach with you…" Tom's head cocks from side to side as he lists off activities.

"That sounds like the opposite of a problem, actually," you grin at him, pulling him in for a kiss. He kisses you back, starting with little pecks that gradually linger more, getting more and more intense with each one, pulling you into the bedroom.

He pulls back with one final chaste kiss. "So, what was that family's deal?" He asks, sitting on the edge of the mattress to start unlacing his boots.

Getting yourself comfortable on the bed, you sigh loudly, "Mum was trying to find every excuse to get free stuff while her kid emptied all the soil out of Fergus' pot onto the floor. "

Tom lets out a sharp gasp as he tugs one shoe off, "Not Fergus the ficus! That's murder!" You laugh, and he smiles over at you adoringly. "See, this is why I couldn't do your job, I'd have told them all to piss off and made that kid scoop it all back in," he shakes his head as he kicks off the other shoe. He flops onto the bed on his stomach, groaning into the pillow. The way his face squishes into it makes you laugh again. "Ugh, was your bed always this comfortable, or is it just the day I've had?"

"It's definitely just you," you point out amusedly, laying on your side and propping yourself up by your elbow. "I could never do your job, either. Big, strong handyman, slaving away at that workshop, carrying all those big, heavy things…"

Tom laughs as he pushes himself up. "Y'give me far too much credit, angel."

You soon fall into your natural position in bed; Tom's arm wrapped around you, his fingers rubbing up and down the top of your arm, your head against his chest, his heart thumping against your cheekbone. It isn't long, though, before he squeezes your shoulder in a way you know means that he wants you to lean up so he can kiss you some more. Tom hums, "Really missed you today."

"Missed you, too, Tommy," you purr between kisses.

"Couldn't stop thinking about you," Tom admits, and you grin.

"Oh, yeah? What about me?"

"Just, y’know. Thinking about all the stuff we can do this weekend, all those things I were just saying about," he muses.

You grin coyly, "And nothing else?"

He rolls his eyes and tuts jokingly. "Yes, yes, and that stuff, too, horndog."

"What?" You giggle. "You're the one thinking about that stuff at work."

"Oh, and you're not?" Tom asks you in disbelief.

"...I didn't say that," you tease, moving over to straddle him.

"Oh, hello," he grins at the change of position, his hands running up and down the sides of your body, wrapping his arms around your back once you lean down to kiss him intensely, hips grinding down against his. He hums against your lips, "Mmm, somebody's eager, aren't they?"

"No shit, look at you," you grin back before kissing him again, your tongues engaging in a twisting dance of passion, accompanied by the harmony of you both moaning together.

"Fuck, yes, sweets, y'feel so good like that," Tom groans. "Keep making those sounds, yeah? Please, s'fucking hot." You move just slightly to moan deliberately into his ear, and his grip on you tightens. "Mmm, is this what you've been thinking about all day, love? Counting down the minutes until you could ravish me?"

With a sheepish giggle, you lie, "No…"

"Certainly seems like it," he raises his eyebrows at you as you sit upright, rocking yourself in circles against the erection you feel pressing through his tracksuit bottoms. He bites his lip tightly as he watches you, his hands slipping underneath your pyjama top to squeeze your hips, digging his grip in. He groans, "Want this off, want to see my fingers press into you."

"Is that all you want to see from me being topless?" You mimic his tone from earlier, and Tom laughs as he helps you pull the garment off of your body. He constantly slides his hands up and down your body, stopping each way to grip your breasts and your hips. Every squeeze earns him an evermore desperate buck of your hips.

Tom smiles dreamily up at you. "'M never gonna get tired of this view, pretty girl. My pretty girl."

You hope your, "'M not," is muttered quietly enough for Tom not to hear it, but no such luck.

"Uh, excuse you, you're fucking gorgeous, babe. 'M a lucky, lucky boy," he smirks, pulling your face down to kiss you again. He gasps out a moan against your lips, "And the way you're humping me like that, fuck, so good. Make me feel so good, looking like that, 've hit the jackpot, me. Fuck, is that good for you, too, yeah?"

You play with the collar of his shirt. "Please, Tommy… Wanna really make you feel good."

He groans again, this time out of exhaustion. "Listen, babe, literally any other time, you know I'd have my clothes off at that in an instant, but… 'M just so tired tonight, angel. I'm sorry."

"I could just ride you?" You offer, and he chuckles, rubbing his face wearily.

"You know I don't like just sitting there and letting you do all the work," he frowns up at you.

You mirror him, "And yet you'll spend the best part of an hour going down on me without expecting anything back?"

He pulls a face of intrigue. "What a wonderful idea." Before you can react, he wraps an arm and a leg around you, swinging his whole body around to roll you onto your back, as he hovers over you.

You giggle, "What happened to being tired, eh?"

"That was my last bit of energy," he grins back. "Well, almost. Think I've got just about enough to get these off you." He hooks his fingers over the elastic of your shorts, pulling them down your legs before settling himself between them. "There she is," he coos under his breath, his fingertips tracing the outside of your folds. "I've especially missed you."

You groan, "Tommy… 'S not faaaair."

"What isn't, angel?" he asks, sliding his middle finger inside of you with ease. You gasp out a long moan, your eyes unfocusing, and he grins up at the sight of you.

“Wanna make you feel good, too,” you whine.

He tuts, shaking his head. “Now, now. Sulking in’t gonna get you anywhere, is it?” He pulls his finger almost completely out of you before sinking it back in again quicker. You thrash your fists against the mattress and he breathes out a soft laugh. “What did I just say, sweets?” he asks in the same soft tone as before.

“Not sulking,” you pout. “Just wanna - wanna touch you and taste you and fu- Fuck, Tommy, I really wanna fuck you, please,” you plead as he adds another finger.

He does climb up your body, still working your core with one hand, to silently kiss you. His motions get far more rapid, moving in and out of you until his fingers are so slick with your juices that they just slip out of you, to which he then starts rubbing your clit at the same speed. Your cries of pleasure come out as muted vibrations against his lips, and you don’t realise him taking the pillow next to you and pulling it back down with him even as he breaks away. You blink your heavy-lidded eyes over and over, watching the imaginary spots that shower your field of vision slowly dissipate. 

“Plenty of time for that, love,” he soothes once he’s settled back down where he wants to be. “But right now, I fucking need your thighs around me.” His palms slide up and down the inner sides of your legs as a gentle prompt, and you comply, crossing your ankles loosely between his shoulder blades. He sighs contentedly. “So soft…” He shuffles into position to press a kiss to your clit, his hands wrapping around the flesh of your thighs to hold them in place. “So warm…” you hear him from the cave he’s made for himself between your legs as you feel him nuzzle his way further down to your core. “Perfect.” 

His tongue works as tenderly as it would if he were kissing you, gently poking its way through your folds and sliding through. Your fingers card through his curls as his head turns, this way and that, as he plays you like an instrument, eliciting different noises from you with every motion. Your legs twitch, instinctively squeezing together around his head, and he moans delightfully, pushing down on your thighs to tighten their hold on his head even more. He snakes his tongue inside of you, extending it to its stiffest, most pointed length as he bobs his head back and forth to fuck you with it.

Your legs wrap tighter still around him, and you feel his grip slip around to your ass cheeks to grip them roughly. The sensation of his fingernails digging into your supple flesh have you crying out in pleasure, which you can tell from his moans is turning him on insanely quickly.

But, with your thighs in a vice around him, it gets harder for you to grab his hair, make a mess of his curls so that when he resurfaces, it's obvious for the rest of the day what he's been up to. You don't get to look into those dark, rich eyes of his that caramelise when the sun sets just right through the window.

You pout, "Tommy…" as you relax your thighs, pulling them slightly away from him.

"Everything alright, sweets?" He asks with concern.

You continue in the same tone, "Miss your face."

With a soft laugh, he kneels up slightly, your heels naturally sliding off of his shoulder blades as he does. "Of course, angel, 'm sorry." He pushes your legs wide open, looking down adoringly at your glistening folds. "Such a perfect, pretty thing, isn't she?" he smiles, running the pad of his finger along them. Placing his hands just within the crooks of your legs, he gently pushes outward, spreading you even wider. He marvels at the sight in front of him studiously, his eyes darting around until he places another, calculated, kiss down between your legs, his lips and tongue working in ways no form of self-pleasure could ever replicate. 

His eyes flutter shut as he flicks his tongue in all kinds of formations: he lays it flat against you as he licks along your folds from the bottom up; he gently traces the insides of your lips with the tip; he waggles his tongue back and forth, at a speed your eyes can barely keep up with, as it works your clit from every angle he can move his head to reach. Every sound of pleasure you make is harmonised by his humming against you.

As you melt against him, warm brown eyes flicker up to look at you through his eyelashes as he starts suckling on your clit. All you can see of him are his curls, now wildly spread out thanks to your handiwork, his eyes and his nose, but with just those alone, his expression tells you how much he adores you. The way his brow softly knits together, the glint in his eye, it makes you feel like a goddess that he's obsessed with worshipping. 

You cry out, "Fuck, Tom… Feel… So good, 'm gonna -" The rest of your sentence is swallowed in a high-pitched whine as you feel the first pang of your crescendo forming.

Tom groans against you, pulling away just to tell you, "Perfect timing as always, angel, this has been turning me on like mad, wanna make you cum so badly."

You whimper, "Please… Want yours, too, Tommy."

He tuts, shaking his head. "No time, sweets. Think you coming on my face is exactly what I need to get off, too." Before you can answer back, he resumes suckling on your clit, burying two fingers inside of you and working them at the same speed he had earlier, until you're seeing those spots again. "So fucking gorgeous when you're all fucked out, babe," he croons. "C'mon, be a good girl and come all over me."

As you let your orgasm take full control over your body, he stops fingering you to immediately get his tongue in there, cleaning you up as you cream all over his mouth for what feels like eternity. His look changes as he devours you, one you recognise as his own orgasmic expression. You notice a little movement in the corner of your eye, and prop yourself up on your elbow to investigate.

You'd not even noticed you were a pillow short, let alone that he had slid his tracksuit bottoms to his knees to fold the pillow between his thighs, humping it as erratically as he'd move if he were coming. You let out a small, disappointed whimper. "Y'didn't need to use a pillow, 'm right here."

"Can't eat you out and cum inside you at the same time, sweets," he points out with a smirk, his whole body looking on the verge of giving up all movement as he slides back up to be eye-level with you.

"I could've sat on your face and sucked you off at the same time," you retaliate in a similar tone, and he chuckles.

"Nah, needed that. To just make my girl forget that anything else exists for a bit. Helps me feel the same, too," he explains, leaning over to kiss your forehead. "S'pose I should clean up what's in these boxers, though, eh?"

"Is it weird that it actually turns me on, knowing you came in your pants over me?" You ask as he heads into the bathroom, and half his laughter gets drowned out by the sound of running water. As he's cleaning himself up, you notice the discarded pillow and start rearranging the others until the one he'd been humping is beneath your head.

As he returns, he looks quizzically at the bottom of the bed, pointing to where the pillow had been. You bury half your face into it, smiling coyly as you look over at him, and he bites his lip. "Speaking of things that weirdly turn y'on, that's so doing it for me," he groans under his breath as he sits on the corner of the bed and reaches again for his shoes.

You frown, "Where you off to?"

"We have to eat at some stage, horndog," he teases, leaning over to tap your nose playfully.

"What are you gonna go and get, then?" You ask as he puts on his second boot.

"Thinking that Chinese place just outside of here, it's never that long of a wait," he shrugs, and you hum happily as you redress yourself in your pyjamas, opting to stay sitting up on your bed as he gets up.

"Sounds good to me. Could I have a -" Tom interrupts you by reciting your order exactly as he walks towards the door. Feeling nothing but the pure ecstacy of being around someone who remembers even the littlest details, you mindlessly call back to him, "You're the best! Love you!"

Your little bubble of contentment pops when you realise what you've said. How it's the first time you've said it. And it's just on a throwaway goodbye on his way to get a takeaway. He rushes the few paces it takes to get back to your bedroom to look at you, his expression tough to read, and say, "Say that again." You start to fluster, unsure how you can potentially backtrack from here, but he kneels one leg back onto your bed, leaning over to cradle your cheek in his hand. "Please. Say it properly, to my face," he pleads softly.

Grinning widely, you place your hand over his and look him dead in the eyes as he gives you that worshipping gaze all over again. "I love you, Tommy." A surprised chirp escapes the back of your throat as he tackles you back down onto the bed, furiously kissing your lips over and over and over again, and you laugh against him. "What happened to getting food, horndog? Now you've made me hungry!"

"'M not doing this to fuck ya, 'm doing this 'cause I love ya," he mutters as he kisses your neck. You lay back and revel in how good it feels until your stomach betrays you, growling loudly. The breath from Tom's laugh tickles your neck as he slides down to pull your pyjama top up enough to expose your tummy so he can kiss it. "Alright, message received, loud and clear, boss," he says directly to it before climbing off the bed. You giggle as you readjust your top, and he looks at you softly. "I do love you, y'know."

"If you did, you wouldn't keep me starving here, now, would you?" You tease, falling apart with laughter once more as he bolts out of the door. You head back to where the sofa is - where you'd left your phone - and send him a text: I love you, too, btw. 😘

#tom grant #tom grant x reader #tom grant x you #tom grant imagine #tom grant fanfiction #tom grant fanfic #tom grant fic #tom make up #tom make up x reader #tom make up x you #tom make up imagine #tom make up fanfiction #tom make up fanfic #tom make up fic #*myfics #fic: tom g

[lannisterdaddyissues]

Iceman: Do you want to know how I actually hurt my wrist?

Maverick: Yes.

Iceman: I was hula hooping. Slider and I attend a class for fitness and for fun.

Maverick: Oh my God.

Iceman: I've mastered all the moves. The pizza toss, the tornado, the scorpion, the oopsie-doodle.

Maverick: Why are you telling me this?

Iceman: Because no one will ever believe you.

Maverick: You sick son of a bitch.

#top gun #top gun (1986) #maverick mitchell #pete maverick mitchell #iceman kazansky #tom iceman kazansky #icemav #iceman x maverick #incorrect quotes #incorrect top gun quotes #incorrect top gun #look me in the eyes and tell me ice wouldn't make this shit up on the spot just to get in mav's head. do it i dare you #is he lying? is he telling the truth? we’ll never know

[munsonxmayhem]

I have this idea in my head about a Tom Grant story. It's been a few years since Ruth left and Tom has moved on with the reader. They are very happy and recently engaged then Ruth shows back up to get Tomback... the reader knows the history the story and knows the pain Tom went through. The reader get a little on edge and worried that Ruth is gonna try to get in the middle of her and Tom. Tom shows the reader he doesn't want Ruth he only wants her by making love to her the most passionate way they ever have before. Always maybe words bw Tom and Ruth since he's not happy she showed back up.

His past and His future.

Tom Grant x Fem!Reader

Warnings; Angst, Fluff, Smut

————————————————————————————————————————

“It’s so pretty..” You whisper, holding your hand up and looking at the ring on your finger.

“Not as pretty as the one it’s on..” Tom coos, brushing your hair from your face and kissing you quickly.

“I love you..” You smile up at him, bringing your newly ringed hand up to his face.

“I love you, too.” His voice is full of love, staring at his beautiful fiancée.

He picks you up, suddenly. You squeal as he drops you onto his bed, giggling as he crawls over you. “God you’re so beautiful.. ‘M so lucky..” He places gentle kisses across your jaw and neck, hands roaming your sides.

Knock, knock, knock…

“Ugh.. that better not be Kai, I swear to god I’ll knock ‘im out.” Tom groans, standing from the bed and going to the door. You laugh at his comment, but the joy slowly fades as you hear a woman’s voice at the door.

“Can we just talk, please? I fucked up, I know that!” The woman exclaims, your heart beating in your chest.

There’s no way..

“Ruth, I’m serious. You need to leave.” You hear Tom, confirming your worries.

She’s back.

You stomp your way to the front of the trailer, staring down at the damned brown haired girl at the foot of the steps. She looks from Tom to you, obvious annoyance on her face.

“Who’s she?” Ruth sneers, clearly no friendship to be had there.

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms. “I’m his fiancée.”

Her eyes widen in shock, but quickly looks back at Tom. “Can we please just talk?”

Tom stays quiet, looking over to you. “Wait for me in our room, yeah?”

It’s your turn for wide-eyed stares. “What?”

You can see the pain evident on his face, his body tense.

You pull him back from the door, slamming the door in Ruth’s face.

“What are you doing?” You try not to raise your voice.

“I-I just.. I need an explanation, (Y/N). I never got one..” His eyes dart around nervously as he takes in your less-than-pleased demeanor.

“Then she can explain it right here.” You say, sternly.

“Don’t ya trust me?” He pleads.

“Of course I trust you! I just don’t trust her..” You gesture towards the door.

“So stay here.” He states, before opening the door and closing it behind him, leaving you in shock.

You watch as they walk towards the other side of the park, towards the beach.

You decide against doing as you’re told, needing to make sure she keeps her distance from Tom.

You quietly close the trailer door, keeping a good distance between you and them as they make their way down the path.

“Why’re you here, Ruth?” You hear Tom say, clearly frustrated.

“I fucked up. You didn’t deserve it, okay? You were so good to me, and.. and I should’ve realized that.” You hear plead in return. You scoff quietly, rolling your eyes.

Tom stays quiet, tears threatening to fall from his eyes.

“I want you back, Tom.. And I know it’s not ideal timing with.. uh.. everything.. but I love you.” She refers to you.

Yeah, I’m the reason the timing isn’t ideal. You think to yourself.

“It’s been 2 years, Ruth! 2 fuckin’ years! Then you come back out of nowhere when I’m happily engaged, and expect me to just.. what? Crumble at your feet?” His voice is filled with anger and resentment.

She shakes her head, reaching her hand out to touch him. He jumps back, avoiding her touch.

“I just.. I love you. I don’t expect you to forgive me right away, but I mean.. with time? We were together for years, Tom..” She tries to reason, and you’ve had enough. Deciding that if he was willing to listen to this shit, that you didn’t need to.

You make your way back to the trailer, slamming the door behind you. You can’t help the tears that pool in your eyes, walking back to yours and Toms bed, they fall.

You curl up in the blankets, using the sleeves of his jumper you’re wearing to wipe the tears from your face. After a few minutes you hear the door open, closing soon after.

“(Y/N)?” You hear Tom call out, and you stay silent.

You hear him enter the room, and you hide your face in the article of clothing.

You feel the bed dip, and you feel him drag your legs over his lap. “Hey.. What’s wrong?”

You sigh, uncovering your face. “Do you want her?” Your voice breaks with sadness as you ask him, refusing to look in his direction.

“No, baby.. No. Of course not. I just needed an explanation.” He sounds sad, almost defeated.

“But why? It doesn’t change anything.. I know she hurt you, and I know she didn’t tell you why. But why did you go with her? I know she just wants you back..”

His brows furrow, rubbing the outside of your leg gently. “She does.”

You nod, “I know. I followed you.” You confess, turning your head to look at him.

“You did?” He sounds shocked, but not angry. You nod, “Yeah.. I heard her telling you that it’s not an ideal time but that she wants you. That she loves you..” You trail off, avoiding the tears that are stinging your eyes again.

“Yes, she wants me.” He states, and you look at him blankly.

“But I want you.” He coos, leaning back on the bed, propping himself on his elbow to look at you.

“You sure? You guys have quite the history..” You say quietly, fiddling with your sleeves.

“Yeah, we do but you and I have quite the future ahead of us.” He smiles widely, and you can’t help the small smile that forms on your face.

“You want me to yell it to the whole park? Tell them how much I love you? I’ll do it!” He laughs, standing up and walking towards the door. You laugh, scrambling to your feet and grabbing him as he swings the door open.

“Tom, stop it!” You scream laugh, pulling him back and closing the door. “Just.. just kiss me.” You speak softly, looking up at him.

He smiles, leaning down and pressing his lips to yours. The kiss immediately gets more passionate as he backs you against the door. His body is pressed flush to yours as you wrap your arms around his neck. He detaches his lips from yours, moving them down to your neck and planting small kisses along it.

“I love you.. I love you… I love you..” He mumbles against your skin between each kiss. You giggle, pulling him back up to your face. “I love you.” He says once more, before placing his lips back to yours.

You sigh into the kiss, lifting a leg up on his hip and pulling him closer. He groans into the kiss, feeling himself getting hard against you. He presses against you harder, lifting both of your legs around his waist and picking you up. You laugh into the kiss as he carry’s you to the bedroom, dropping you down on the bed.

He stands up, yanking his shirt off of his body. Your eyes gaze down his perfectly toned body and his soft, freckle littered skin. He sees you gawking and leans down, grabbing the hem of your sweatpants and yanking them down your body. You meet him halfway and pull his jumper off your body, tossing it on the floor and leaving your breasts exposed.

“Fuck, you’re perfect.” He whispers, dropping his joggers down his legs along with his boxers. Your jaw drops as his cock hits his stomach, you’ve seen it before but you’ll never get used to his size. He smirks as he pulls your panties down, crawling over you. He kisses your lips quickly before making his way down your neck, trailing kisses from there all the way down to your core.

You gasp as he places a kiss on your pubic bone, his hands softly caressing the outside of your thighs. He wastes no time swiping his tongue through your folds, collecting the arousal that has already spread there. “Oh!” You gasp out loudly, eyes going wide. He chuckles as he does it again, this time bringing his hand around to pull your folds apart. You’d be embarrassed and shy if he hadn’t cut it short by wrapping his lips around your clit.

You moan softly, hips involuntarily bucking against his mouth. He brings his hand farther down, nudging your opening with his middle finger. He slides his finger up, collecting your wetness before pushing it into you, his tongue now circling your sensitive nub.

“Tom.. oh god..” You groan out, hands immediately roaming through his curls. He pumps his finger in and out steadily, curling it every so often to nudge your g-spot. You feel the knot building in your stomach, getting tighter as he pushes a second finger into you.

His tongue flicks your clit faster, a groan falling from his mouth and sending vibrations through you. Your orgasm washes over you quickly, legs shaking and muscles tightening. Small gasps and moans falling from your lips as he works you through your high.

After your muscles relax he slowly eases his fingers from you, taking them into his mouth as his other hand rubs gently against your thigh.

You glance down at him as he takes his fingers from his mouth, eyes pooling with love and lust. He crawls on top of you, slotting himself between your legs.

“You’re so beautiful, (Y/N). I’m yours, completely.” He coos softly, hiking your leg up on his hip as he aligns himself to your entrance. He looks you in your eyes, “You’re all I’ve ever wanted..” He mutters as he pushes in, slowly filling you up.

Your jaw drops as he stretches you around him, feeling more and more full as he eases in. With one last movement, he thrusts the rest of himself in, burying in to the hilt. You both moan in unison, foreheads pressed together.

You bring your other leg over, wrapping them both tightly around his waist. He slowly starts thrusting into you, making sure to press in completely with each one. You bring your hands around to his back, pressing him firmly against you. One of his hands holds your hip, and the other holds your shoulder.

“You’re mine.” You whimper, nails digging into his skin slightly. He groans, thrusts getting a bit harder. “Yours. Fuck. Only yours.” He promises, your words bringing him closer to his release.

“You feel so good..” You moan, bringing your hands up to his hair and pulling it gently. “Fuck.. oh fuck..” He moans loudly, head falling to your neck. You’re a whimpering mess as he brings his fingers to your clit between you two, rubbing messy circles against your clit.

“Fuck, just like that.. don’t stop..” You whine against his shoulder, hands gripping him tightly as the knot tightens. His thrusts get sloppy, cock nudging your g-spot with every thrust. Your vision blurs as the knot snaps, pleasure flowing through your body in waves.

Your orgasm triggers his, panting heavily in your neck as he drives himself into you, his hot release coating your velvet walls deep inside of you.

“Oh.. Oh my god.. I love you..” You gasp out, feeling his cock throbbing inside of you at your words. “I love you.. I love you so much..” He moans out between pants. His thrusts slow as he rocks both of you through your high, small whimpers falling from your mouth.

His hips still, fingers coming off your clit and coming back up to your shoulder. He brings his other hand around, wrapping both of his arms under you; pulling you close to him. You hold him, too, the love radiating from your bodies.

You both stay like that a few moments, before he loosens his grip on you, easing his softening dick out of you. You wince at the emptiness, brushing the hair from your face.

You look up at him through your lashes, you see the tears on his lashes. You furrow your brows in worry, reaching up and caressing his face; your thumb wiping his eye. “What’s wrong, my love?” You coo, gently.

He shakes his head, “I just love you. So fuckin’ much.” He admits, smiling down at you. “I’m sorry if I made you feel like I don’t.”

You sigh sympathetically, leaning up and kissing him gently. “No, baby.. I know you love me. I’m just so scared to lose you.” You comfort him, pushing him so he’s on his side next to you, you bring your leg up, laying it over his hips. “You’ll never lose me.. You’re stuck with me forever.” He tells you as he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you to his chest and bringing the blanket over both of you.

You cuddle into his chest, fingers running through his hair. You listen as his breathing calms, feeling his heartbeat against your cheek.

“I can’t wait to marry you..” He whispers, thumb tracing soft circles in your back.

“Neither can I..” You smile, kissing his chest.

——————————————————————————

Authors Note: God I love Tom Grant. That’s it. Thanks for reading :)

#tom grant #tom grant make up #joseph quinn make up #make up 2019 #tom grant x reader #tom grant smut #tom grant x you #joseph quinn smut #eddie munson #stranger things #joseph quinn x reader #eddie munson x reader

[hellfiresmaster]

I’m here to ask for Mr Grant smut. Please give me the smuttiest, filthiest, kinkiest, toe-curling smut ma’am. I’m a hole for Tom Grant.

Not as smutty as I originally wanted but I got carried away and I keep going back and forth on it ajajsfhjfhh but i have snippets I edited out that I may post as a series based on this duo so 👀

Tom Grant x Fem!Reader

Warnings: friends to lovers, no mention of y/n, dry humping, groping, making out, oral sex (f receiving), a little body marking, p in v sex, bit of cum play at the end (and a hint of breeding kink if you squint)

Word Count: 3.1K

The evening cast long shadows along the ground. A warm orange light casts from the sky into your quaint trailer as you set down the last of your belongings on the counter and looked around. Recalling the fond memories that tainted each square inch of this place you once called home, now empty and cold to the touch. You never truly felt like you belonged anywhere, always an outcast searching for a home. But this place was pretty damn close. Half of your things were already settled in, and the other half scattered in boxes along the hallway; you decided enough had gotten done today, and plopping yourself down on the couch with a cup of tea was more than deserved. Just as you were about to grab a book from the shelf and let it whisk you away into a world far away from the depressing reality you now sulked in, a knock rumbled at your door. Tom. 

"Ya told me to come at 6; I can come back if ya-" You quickly cut him off, assuring him it was okay and motioning him to come inside. You nearly forgot you'd invited him over after running into him earlier that day as you arrived at the park. Tom gave you a grateful smile before entering and shutting the door. You recalled the day you met Tom all those years ago. There were no facades, no preconceptions, no expectations. It was as if you'd known each other forever; time constantly blurred when you were around him. He had a way of making you forget everything wrong in the world while consuming your every thought. " 's a bit of a mess in here, eh? Need some help?" 

"Oh, because your trailers all neat and tidy?" You teased, and he let out a small chuckle.

"I'll get round to it dreckly. 'M sure of it." You scuffed while setting down some clothes from your bag into the small dresser and walking back into the living room.

Tom took a seat on the couch, stretching one arm out on the backrest. He tried to distract himself from the gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach from being around you after so long by glancing around your trailer. Your books were stacked neatly on a small shelf, tabs, and stickies poking out from all the notes you inevitably jotted down as you became encompassed in each story. He didn't even notice he was fiddling with a cream blanket beside him, the scent of you still so prevalent on it; he wanted nothing more than to wrap himself in it. Being surrounded by you was unsettling and comforting in the best possible way. His mind couldn't help but wonder what evenings with you would look like, laying with you on the couch with your favorite book in hand while he stroked your hair and soothed you after a long day at work. He yearned for it more than anything. 

"Why do you always look at me like that?" You questioned as he sat up and leaned his head back towards the couch.

"Like what?" 

"Like that." You gestured toward his face hoping he'd get the point.

"Don't think I can look at ya and not smile, birdie." His words made your heart swell. It was true. Tom couldn't remember a moment he looked at you and didn't have a smile painted on his face; he couldn't help it. He missed this; the way he felt when he was around you was like nothing else. Like the aching void inside of him, he didn't even realize was there had been finally filled after all this time.

Tom sank back into the couch, getting more comfortable and eyeing an old polaroid stashed in a small box on your coffee table with photos of an old flame he faintly recalled peeking out from the side.

"Still on about that emmet, eh?" He teased and pointed towards the box, but you physically cringed at the memories of regrets from three summers ago, trying to lodge themselves in your head again. 

"That was a long time ago, Tom. Plus, think I learned my lesson, hm?" You snapped, your back now turned to him. Tom's smile faded, and regret washed over him. The memory coming back to him now, how you looked that night you showed up at his trailer, heartbroken and tears streaming down your face over a summer fling with a slimy tourist you barely knew. He recalled the anger he felt and how he pushed it to the side in order to be there for you, to hold you through it. He vowed never to let anyone hurt you that way again; he would've stuck to his word too if you hadn't picked up and left in pursuit of that so-called better job without warning all those years ago. Who knows what he's failed to protect you from now. You cleared your throat, making Tom snap out of it, not letting himself dwell on what could've been any longer.

"'M sorry, bird." He muttered almost to himself. You turned towards him with a bewildered look. "I know I been a bit of twat. Didn't mean to upset ya an' all." 

"It's fine, Tommy." -- "Did ya have something you wanted to talk about? You asked to come over and all..." 

"Yeah, well, I-I guess I-Shit." Tom's mouth opened, but the words ceased. He was ready; he told himself he was the second he saw you waltz into that trailer park again. He couldn't let you slip through his fingers again without telling you how he felt about you; he wouldn't. "After Ruth-after I realized-I jus'" His mouth went dry, and he forgot everything he craved to tell you as soon as he felt your eyes on him. But now you were here, in front of him in all your glory, looking as pretty as you always did, and he was stuck.

You could tell he wanted to say something important by the way he fiddled and chewed on the inside of his cheek. His breathing seemed to quicken, and by his adoring gaze, a slither of hope bloomed in your chest at the possibility that maybe he felt the same way you did after so long. You moved to sit by him on the couch, waiting for him to say something, anything, but there was just silence as your eyes explored his. "Jus' wanted to tell ya about tonight; everyone's headin' to the bar from work, 's all." 

"You're full of shit, you know that, Tom?" You spit venom in your words, and your voice raised higher than you realized, which made him wince at your words.

"What's that supposed to mean? 'M full of shit?" Tom's demeanor immediately shifted as he moved a little further from you on the couch. "Maybe if ya didn't snap at me, I'd be able to finish..." He muttered under his breath, barely audible enough for you to hear.

"Well, go on then, hm? Ruth's not here clouding up that head of yours anymore, so what is it, Tommy?" You didn't mean for it to come out as enraged as it did, but you couldn't help it. It had been years of bottled-up 'what ifs' and 'what could have been,' and you were sick of it. This isn't how you pictured it. It's supposed to be easy. Comparable to lulling to sleep. This was hard. You took one last pleading look at him before speaking. "You were gonna say something else. I know you were...please." 

"Bleddy, ya not gonna make me say it, eh?" He rubbed a hand on his jaw in frustration. You noticed how his jaw clenched and his breath caught in his throat. "Birdy..." You stepped closer toward him until you could feel his breath fanning your face. Tom's deep chestnut eyes bore into yours as you took him in. Your fingers craved to trace the small lines that had appeared on his face since you last saw him, no doubt traces of how the time you had been away from each other having taken a toll on him. His curls had grown slightly longer, unruly, and practically dangling over his face; you had to physically fight the urge to run your fingers through them. You took his hand in yours, giving him space and allowing him to continue if he felt the need to do so. "Worried I’ll be shit at it 's all. 'Cause of the whole Ruth stuff, ya know." Tom mumbled. "Jus' fancied ya for ages, never thought I was good enough. Then ya left, and I dunno." He paused briefly, catching himself in his own ramblings. "I love ya, bird...think I always 'ave." You beamed, but something told him your response was half appreciation and half disbelief.

Before you knew it, your mouth was on his. Tom's lips were warm and soft. They parted slightly, allowing your tongue to slip inside and deepen the kiss. Your breath quickened when you felt his hands slide across your waist and cup your face on one side as he sighed into the kiss. It didn't take long for Tom's hunger for you to become apparent, with feverish hands bringing you closer until you were straddling his lap. Your hands finally tangled in his curls, breathing in as much of him as possible before he pulled away slightly. 

But you couldn't stop. Not now. Not when you had him withering away into a blubbering mewling mess right under you. You snapped back into it when you felt the straps of your top fall below your shoulders, exposing your tits to him. Large palms began to knead them, pinching one already stiff nipple while his mouth worked on the other. His hips bucked towards yours, desperate for any friction you were willing to give him while he placed wet kisses on every piece of skin he could get to and soothed every bite with the warmth of his tongue, a promise of what was about to happen if you let him in. Your moans echoed off the far walls of the trailer, unable to regain control of yourself once he began to roll his hips in sync with yours. His bulge hitting your clit every time had the both of you desperate for release. You felt your wetness seeping past the thin seam of your panties and onto your inner thigh as his fingers dug into your hips to guide you.

Tom's head is thrown back onto the couch, giving you access to bring your lips to his neck, making him choke back a moan, squeezing his eyes shut, trying his best to gather thoughts. "Fuck bird, ya keep that up, and 'M not gon' last much longer." He practically mewled as you picked up your pace while his lips went back to tasting your skin. The sensation of his hands roaming your body and your swollen clit, getting precisely the pressure and friction it craved. Soft heat flushed through your veins as you pressed yourself closer to him. Tom's lips never left yours, taking every whimper and guiding your hips to grind on him steadily.

Tom cradled your face in his hands, his lingering stare and blissed-out look making you shiver against his touch. His eyes were still burning with lust as he pulled himself from the kiss and glanced up at you. His face flushed and lips swollen pink. Your eyes diverted to where you had been grinding on his lap, the obvious tent in his work pants making you bite down on your lower lip with a smirk. Tom took your chin between his thumb and forefinger to bring your gaze back to him before moving you to sit on the couch as he sank between your knees, throwing your legs over his shoulder, nibbling on the insides of your thighs. Your heart felt like it would beat out of your chest as you felt Tom's hand push your skirt up to bunch around your hips; he held your gaze and placed a delicate kiss on your already-soaked center before hooking his fingers on the sides and sliding them right off. 

Tom's tongue ran sloppily along your slit, gathering your wetness only to tease but never quite get to your needy clit. Your head soon lulls back when you feel his tongue firmly press into you. One of his hands leaves your thigh to bring a thumb to your newly abandoned clit, giving skilled circles to the slick flesh.

You moaned borderline pornographically at the sensation and squirmed, but he didn’t relent. Tom just concentrated on making you fall apart under him, reveling in the soft cage of your thighs. Your chest heaved as he inserted a finger inside you, pumping and pressing against that tender spot. Tom can’t stop himself from groaning into you, drunk on the feeling of making you feel this good. Voice muffled as his cock strained in his work pants, desperate to ease the pressure; he could cum from just devouring you, and he was sure of it. If he knew you’d make these pretty sounds for him, he’d have done this much sooner. 

"Right there. Don't stop." His lips circle and suck at your clit, making you moan and mewl in an entirely different way. An arch of your back is the signal he earns to keep doing what he’s doing. Tom doesn't relent as he inserts another finger when he suddenly feels you clench down on him and practically sob as your orgasm rips through you. He drinks you in and continues his ministrations. Once he knew you were sated, Tom pulled away, his chin and mouth coated in your juices as he licked his fingers clean before pulling you to stand with him.

Tom carried you from the couch and laid you on the bed before removing his shirt, pants, and boxers as he climbed over you. His cock bounced against the tuff of hair covering the lower half of his tummy, the length was definitely more than you were used to, but it had your mouth watering at the sight. Aching and red, leaking droplets of precum from the slit. Tom had you splayed out under him, hooded eyes, and already fucked out from just his mouth. 

"Your fuckin' beautiful bird. 'M never gonna get 'nough of you." His fingertips traced the clasp of your bra, and you nodded, signaling him to get rid of it. He wasted no time mouthing on the soft tissue of your breast, his other hand kneading the neglected one, wet lips enveloping your nipple and swirling until your hands tugged on his soft curls. His lips moved along your neck and the skin on your collarbone, sucking and etching a trail before pulling away. Tom admired his work; he lightly kissed the purple marks adorned your body to soothe the skin.

Tom was absent-mindedly sliding his length along your slick, the tip of his swollen cock catching on your clit with every swipe that had you whining under him. He lined himself up with your entrance, eyes flickering to yours to make sure this was okay, make sure you still wanted this, still wanted him. You could sense the doubt inching into his mind, so you pulled him down into a bruising kiss, pushing your hips up to assure him, making the head of his cock slip inside. A hum of appreciation rumbled deep inside your throat. 

"Fuckin’ hell." A hot jolt of energy spread inside your tummy as Tom continued to push inside you. Your heart fluttered, air leaving your lungs as you exhaled in contentment, watching Tom's eyes squeeze shut and mouth fall into a perfect 'o' at the feeling of finally bottoming out inside you. His grunts rumbled through you, growls that sent a wave of desire spiraling through your body until you were burning up with need. 

"You feel 's good." Your warm, soaked walls are like velvet around Tom's cock as his hips thrust in and out of you. Groaning softly in your ear while you clawed your nails into his back from the pressure. He can feel your cunt begin to throb, wishing he could just take a second to sit back and watch you take him so well. A golden curl dangled from his head, the chill from his chain pressing on your forehead with every thrust as he picked up his pace making the coil in your center tighten further. 

"Tommy.." You could feel every ridge of his cock and the heaviness of his balls slapping against your ass every time he slammed into you. An endless string fills the room as you buck your hips to meet his. Your walls clench, then flutter. "Hmph-please." Tom sees how you're struggling to string together words as your mind goes numb, slowly losing yourself to the bliss as he slithers a hand between where your bodies meet to swipe methodically at your clit, making your thighs quiver around him.

"Go ahead and cum for me, yeah? Need to feel ya, bird. Please." 

That was all you needed. White hot pleasure built in your core and snapped as you writhed under him. Completely lost in the euphoria, the intensity of the sensations coursing through you, increasing pleasure with every touch, every caress, every whisper of encouragement. Tom continued to fuck you through your orgasm as he chased his own. "Fuck. 'M gonna cum. W-where?" 

"Inside, Tommy. Please. I want to feel you." Something inside Tom splintered at your words, and he cascaded into his own ecstasy, spilling himself into you. He made sure to lean on one side, wary not to put his entire body weight on you before carefully pulling himself out and sitting back between your legs.

Closing your eyes, you relished the feeling of Tom's cum slipping out of you, already knowing that you were making a mess on your clean sheets. You barely noticed how he was almost admiring his work, gently taking two fingers and pushing whatever dripped out of your overstimulated cunt back inside, making you squirm away from him. Tom couldn't help it; he was proud of himself. Proud that he'd been the one to make you come apart like this. He wanted nothing more than to make you lose control again and again, to know that he was the cause of it. 

"Come here." You pull Tom to lay next to you and nestle close to his chest as he puts an arm over you. "So what now?"

"Oh, 'M never letting ya leave this bed." You erupted in a giggle as Tom brought you closer to him and placed a kiss on the crown of your head. And at that moment, you knew exactly where you belonged.

#tom grant #tom grant make up #tom grant x reader #tom grant fics #tom grant smut #tom grant fluff #tom grant x you #joseph quinn

[ladyfogg]

Windswept - Part 2

Windswept – Part 2

Fic Summary: Still getting over his breakup with Ruth, Tom notices a familiar face has returned to Cornwall. Lonely and unable to sleep, he shows up at your trailer late one night. But as eager as you are to have him in your bed, you’re not interested in only being his distraction. (Part 1) Fics Masterpost.

Fic Rating: 18+

Pairing: Tom Grant/Female Reader

Warnings: Language, Friends to Lovers, Unprotected Sex (reader mentions birth control), Brief Cockwarming, Creampie, Fluff, Hand Job, Oral (Female Receiving), Fooling Around in the Shower because Tom deserves it.

Fic Song: Windswept by Moonfall

A/N: Wanted to do a small follow up to part one since I enjoyed writing it so much. Hope you like it! Right now there are no plans for another part. 

The next morning brings gray clouds and a wicked chill in the air.

Tom slowly comes to consciousness, his body wonderfully relaxed and rested for the first time in months. Next to him, he feels the warmth of someone else and when he drags his eyes open, he finds you curled under the comforter. He thinks of the night before, of the confessions and promises. You’d stayed awake talking for hours, like you two have done countless times except this time was different. This time Tom could kiss you, touch you, this time you both were naked, wrapped around each other so tight it was hard to tell where he ended and you began.

This time, you made plans for the future. A future, together. He’s already told you he’d travel with you, that he wants to marry someday. Is it too early to talk about such things? Probably. He doesn’t care.

Smiling, Tom takes the time to admire your sleeping form. Your back is to him so he has to push himself up onto his elbows in order to see your face. You’re still fast asleep. He’s already committed every feature to memory, yet can’t help staring at your serene, restful expression. Bloody hell, how had he not realized how much he loved you?

Right now, in the dull light of the early morning, it’s so obvious.

Tom thinks back on your friendship and how there was always something else there, something he never could put his finger on. Or didn’t dare to. The excitement he always felt hearing your voice, the anticipation he’d get when he saw your name on the list for future arrivals, how in the year you two were separated his thoughts constantly strayed to you and what you might be doing. All those instances pointed to deeper feelings. And true, he thought he had loved before and he knows he had, but this is different. This is something else entirely. What he feels for you is nothing like what he felt for Ruth.

Tom slides closer and spoons up behind you, curling his body protectively around yours. He hugs you, closing his eyes as he buries his face in your neck. He’s determined to lay there for as long as possible. There’s nowhere to be, no one around to bother either of you. Tom can lay like this forever if he wants.

Alright, maybe not forever but definitely for the foreseeable future.

Smiling to himself, he settles in and closes his eyes. For the next few hours he dozes on and off, while you stay right there in his arms. His mind weaves in and out of dreams, occasionally focusing on you, making sure you’re still with him. Once he’s sure you are, he settles and drifts off again. Eventually, he’s roused awake when you start to shift.

With a sleepy groan, you stretch, your body pressing firmly against his chest in the process. Tom takes full advantage, laying kisses on the back of your neck and letting his hand glide over your hip, and up your chest so he can grasp your breast.

“G’morning,” he says in your ear.

“Good morning,” you chuckle in response. Your backside presses into his morning erection. “And good morning to you as well.”

Tom kisses, squeezes, and thrusts, the desire for you somehow stronger than it was last night. His mind spins with all the dirty things he wants to do to you, all the things he wants to try and experience. Things he enjoys and is desperate to share with you, and things he’s never had a chance to do.

His hand starts to travel downward while his arm slides underneath you so he can hold you in place. When his finger teasingly dips between your legs, you gasp.

“Wasting no time this morning, huh, love?” you ask. Already you’re breathless and it sends a thrill of desire through him.

“Do you want me to stop?”

You moan at the press of his fingertips to your nub. “Not at all. Keep going.”

Biting his lip in excitement, Tom continues his exploration. With his mouth kissing and nibbling at your throat, his finger slides through your folds. He remembers the night before, remembers how you taste, how you feel on his tongue and he finds himself thirsting for more.

He’ll get there. Right now, he wants to touch.

It doesn’t take long for you to grow wet. He listens to the way your breathing hitches, feels your body shudder, and it makes Tom’s heart race. The confidence that had been so brutally shattered months ago returned in one evening. One spectacular evening. There is no hesitation from him this time, no second-guessing or wondering. He knows that you’re enjoying this

“God, Tom,” you moan, your hips gyrating back and forth, moving along with his teasing fingers. “I love the way you touch me.”

He smiles against your skin, inhaling your scent that now hangs around him like a cloud. Teeth gently digging into your throat, he slides two fingers into you, fire settling low in his belly at the way you gasp his name.

Your slick walls flutter around his digits, encouraging him, calling to him.

His mind goes back to what it felt like to sink into your heat, to have those same walls grip his cock. And as he strokes your insides, he imagines all the ways he wants to have you, not just how but where. Here in his bed again for sure, but also in your trailer, on the beach, in the shower, in your home, your true home, the one you exiled yourself to for the last twelve months. Tom doesn’t care where your job takes you. He’s going along until you both find a place to settle, a place you both can call home.

Lips brushing your ear, he briefly trace’s the shell with his tongue. “And I love the way you feel. I’m going crazy just touching you.”

His other hand squeezes your breast while his cock is pressed into your backside, begging for attention. He’s ignoring it, too intent on seeing if he can make you cum. It’s no longer a question of “if” per se, it’s more a matter of how long it’ll take.

You reach up to tangle your hand into his disheveled hair, tugging on the curls. “Only fair since you’ve driven me completely insane for years.”

Tom can’t imagine. Can’t even wrap his head around the fact that you managed to keep these feelings, this passion, to yourself for so long. It is no wonder you left.

“I need you inside me,” you groan, knocking the wind out of him and sending his mind reeling.

No, don’t think about that. Don’t think about how you lost her, he tells himself, sucking at your throat, dragging another series of moans out of you.

Tom moans in return, his hand slipping out from between your legs. He was going to hold off but there’s no way he can deny that begging tone. He shoves the blankets away before reaching down to grip his cock. Automatically, you lift your leg, giving him the space he needs to slide into you from behind. Your moan drowns his out as your body curls forward, your hand gripping the pillow beneath your head.

Hips rolling back and forth, Tom takes you just like that, mouth continually kissing and sucking at your throat and shoulder. It’s as phenomenal as the night before. You’re squeezing and fluttering walls make it impossible for him to pull out too far before he’s eagerly surging back in. He presses you onto your stomach and lays his hand over yours, slotting your fingers together while he fucks you into the mattress.

The room fills with the sounds of labored breathing and eager moans.

Eyes closed, Tom grinds into that delicious heat he’s quickly become obsessed with. His mouth glides over any bit of skin he can find, kissing, sucking, and nibbling your silken flesh. You moan his name repeatedly in an erotic chant that makes his head spin.

He can tell right before you cum when your hand squeezes his. Your walls flutter around his cock and he groans your name over the sound of his lap slamming repeatedly against your backside. He’s still going when you become boneless, absolutely pleased with himself that he’s managed to make you cum this time without even touching you. Fuck you’re so wet and he’s so lost in the pleasure you’re giving him that he knows it’s not going to take much longer for him.

Sitting back on his knees, he grips your hips, watching his cock slide in and out. When he glances up, he finds you staring at him over your shoulder, pupils blown wide and teeth digging into your bottom lip. He has to kiss you, has to feel your mouth as he nears his end. Laying over you once more, he snags that bottom lip, giving it a gentle tug as he finishes.

He slams into you one more time and stays there, emptying every drop of his release into your limp body.

Gasping for breath, he collapses against your back, panting into your sweat-slicked skin. You take his hand and he feels your lips brush against his knuckles as you cover them with soft kisses. Tom draws away just enough to slip out of you so you can turn to face him. Mouths collide in a proper kiss when you do. He settles his weight on top of you, humming with delight as you wrap your legs around him. Even though he’s softening, he manages to slip back into you with relative ease, thanks to the wetness he left behind.

Between kisses, he catches his breath, wills his heart to stop slamming into his chest like it’s trying to break free. There in the quiet afterglow, Tom’s rational mind kicks back in.

“Shite,” he huffs, eyes wide with concern as he draws his head back. “I didn’t wrap up.” It only dawns on him as he lays there, enjoying the way you feel around him.

Your smile sets his nerves at ease. “We’re good,” you say. “Got it covered on my end.”

Tom relaxes. It’s the first time he’s ever gotten so caught up in the moment that his common sense went out the window. “That’s a relief,” he says before his face breaks into a grin. “Does that mean we can go like this all time?”

“If you mean can you cum inside me the answer is always going to be yes.”

“You’re amazing.”

Giggling, you pull him into another kiss. Giddy and thoroughly spent, Tom leisurely kisses you back and the two of you remain that way for a time, until he hears your stomach grumble.

“I’m starving,” you say as Tom finally rolls over next to you.

His body protests at the loss of your heat but he knows he’ll find himself back inside you soon. “Not sure what I’ve actually got to eat. Here, let me check.”

Easing himself out of bed, Tom doesn’t bother throwing clothes on. He gives one big stretch before shuffling into the kitchen to check the state of his cabinets. It’s only then that he remembers he hasn’t gone shopping in weeks and aside from the spaghetti that was made last night and half a blueberry pie, there’s not much else to eat.

“How’s it looking in there?” you call from the bedroom.

“Let’s see we have a mostly empty box of cereal.” Tom closes the cabinet and opens the refrigerator. “Some milk that’s gone bad and…one egg.”

You laugh as he walks back into the bedroom. “So much for not leaving this bed,” you say.

Tom smiles, admiring the way you look in said bed. You’re exactly where he left you: sprawled out on your back with the sheets sliding onto the floor. His eyes are drawn to the mess he left between your legs. It’s a mental image he knows he’ll never be free of. Likewise, you eye his naked frame with appreciation, smirking as you shamelessly stare.

“The things I’m going to do to you,” you purr. Your stomach growls again and you huff in annoyance as Tom laughs. “After we get food of course. Luckily, my place is fully stocked.”

Tom crawls over your body to prevent you from sitting up. “But that would require moving and putting clothes on.”

“Yeah but then once we eat we can take the clothes off again. Maybe even get in the shower.”

It’s like you can read his mind. “I love the way you think.”

“I’m glad. Now can you get me a towel or something so I can clean up.”

Tom does just that and while you put on your clothes, he shuffles through the mess that is his room in an attempt to find something comfortable to wear. The only thing he really has is what he wore last night so he puts the jeans and white shirt back on. While you retrieve your socks and shoes, he throws several pairs of boxers and his work clothes into a bag, as well as his toiletries.

“What’s all that for?” you ask, sitting down so you can tie your shoes.

“If I’m going to your place I’m going to make damn sure I have what I need so I don’t have to leave for a while.”

The smile that you give him makes his heart skip a beat. “Great idea, though you should do laundry at some point. Your closet is empty.”

“It’s not like I’m going to need clothes anytime soon.”

Laughing, you lovingly shake your head.

Stepping outside is like a punch to the gut. It’s colder than Tom realized and he instantly wishes you two had stayed put. However, he’s also starving and knows if you are going to fool around some more, he’s going to need to refuel. Holding hands and laughing like children, you two run through the park towards your trailer. Between the early hour and lack of guests, no one is around. It’s like you’re the only ones who exist and Tom loves it. Once you’re back inside, you immediately kick out of your shoes and put the kettle on.

“Eggs, bacon, and warm rolls coming right up,” you say, moving about the kitchen.

You’d unpacked and the trailer looks as it used to before you left. It conjures warm memories of the past and makes Tom smile, reminds him that you’re settling in for a time. While you cook, he sets the table and gets your tea ready. Soon, he’s shoveling scrambled eggs and bacon into his mouth as you spread jelly on a roll you warmed in the oven.

“Bloody hell I didn’t realize how hungry I was,” Tom says, leaning back in his chair and savoring the meal. Aside from the dinner last night, this is the first real food he’s eaten in a while. Lately, he’d been making do with frozen meals and cereal, not having the energy or effort to do more.

“Well, we did work up quite the appetite.”

He smirks at you and rubs his foot against yours under the table. “And we’re going to work up another one after we’re done eating.”

“Absolutely. Although, I actually do have to get some kind of writing done today.”

“Boooooo.”

“I know, I know. But my agent is on my case about this and I’ve been dragging my feet. Thankfully, I’m feeling incredibly inspired all of a sudden.”

Tom smirks, licking the jelly from his fingers as he meets your eye. “I’m going to give you enough inspiration to last a lifetime.”

Your gaze softens. “You already have.”

You two finish breakfast and Tom clears the plates while you slip away to the bedroom. He finds you hanging his work clothes in the closet, fussing with the wrinkles. It's adorably domestic and his heart can’t take the way you put his boxers in one of your empty drawers. It sounds silly to feel emotion over such a trivial thing but it means the world to him. You’re making space, adding him into your life without him even asking. When you turn to face him, he pulls you into a tight hug. He wishes words could express the depth of his gratitude. But words aren’t his thing, they’re yours. So he’ll let his body do the talking instead.

Drawing back, he cups your face as he kisses you, trying to pour all his thoughts and feelings into one simple act. He feels you smile, and when he breaks away, your eyes are hooded with desire and promise.

“Want to take a shower together?” you ask.

“More than anything in the world.”

Still smiling, you take his hand and lead him into the bathroom.

Clothes are discarded as the water heats up. Once in the shower, Tom can’t keep his hands to himself. He has to touch you, to feel every inch of your wet skin as your mouths moving together urgently. Lathering his hands with soap, he rubs them all over your body as you do the same to him, running your hands down his chest and teasingly squeezing his cock.

Tom thinks of the night of your arrival, of how he touched himself to thoughts of you and he realizes you’re unknowingly making his fantasy a reality. He presses a hand to the wall behind you, trapping your body with his. Though, is it really a trap when you want to be there? Probably not.

Your hand is still wrapped around his cock, and this time instead of teasing, you look him in the eye and start to stroke him. Tom moans, cradling the back of your head as he yanks you into a searing kiss.

Now you’re exploring, taking your time with each stroke, swiping the head of his cock with your thumb to see how he reacts. He can’t breathe, can’t think. All he can do is stand there as his knees buckle, your hand bringing him close to the edge with each firm tug. He doesn’t believe it, can’t understand how his body is already bouncing back so quickly after your earlier shag. It must be you. Has to be. You’d always had a hold in his heart and now that he’s acknowledged it, his body is racing to catch up.

“I have a confession,” you say into his ear, lips brushing the lobe.

“W’at’s that?” Tom slurs, eyes fluttering closed as he surrenders to the pleasure.

“The other night, after you kissed me and left, I touched myself because I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

Tom whimpers. In the past he might have been embarrassed by such a needy sound but right now he’s not. “Was that the first time?” he asks, a hopeful lilt to his voice.

Once again he feels your smile, this time against his throat as you pepper it with kisses. “Not even close.”

Fuck.

Tom’s mind is bombarded with images of you laying in the same bed that’s just beyond the door, your hand between your legs as you writhe and moan his name. How many times, he wonders. How many times were you right there and he had no idea? How many times had you dreamt this scenario, wanted him to touch and kiss you?

How many times did your heart shatter waiting for him?

The idea that he caused you any amount of pain is too much to bear. Yesterday, he would have let it get to him, would have let it drag him down into dark thoughts. But today is a new day, a new beginning and instead of kicking himself over what might have been, he’s determined to focus on what’s going to be.

It doesn’t take him much longer to cum. It’s all too good to hold back. Your hand sends him toppling over the edge and he groans your name, thrusting into your palm. Dragging his eyes open, he looks down to watch himself coat your thighs with his release. It invokes the same feelings he had before when he saw you spread out with his cum leaking from between your legs.

His. You’re all his. And he’s unquestionably yours.

Kissing you harshly, he reaches down and spreads the remnants of his cum all over you. He knows it’ll be washed away in seconds but he still does it, still takes the chance to mark his territory in some weird, twisted way. If you mind, you don’t say anything. On the contrary, your arms circle his neck and you kiss him back just as hungrily as he’s kissing you.

Now, it’s his turn to make you feel good.

Tom breaks the kiss to fall to his knees. He needs to show you again how much he wants you, needs to worship the body that’s now taken control of his mind. The body that waited so patiently for him to get his shit together.

Spreading your thighs apart, he buries his face between your legs, tongue eagerly swiping through your folds. It’s just as good as the night before, even better because he can taste himself and it reminds him of earlier.

You moan, back hitting the shower wall as the action makes you stumble. Tom holds tight, won’t let you go even for a second, not when he’s where he’s been dying to be since last night. You prop one foot on the edge of the tub to give him more space, to spread yourself open so he can reach all of you. His mouth hungrily devours, humming with enthusiasm at the reactions he’s dragging out of you.

One of your hands slips uselessly across the tile wall while the other buries into his wet curls.

Lost in your taste and the steam of the shower, Tom closes his eyes and gives himself over to sensation and instinct. He swears to take care of you this way whenever he has the chance. He wants to make you gasp and moan as many times as he physically can. And the way the breath escapes your lungs when he sucks greedily as your nub makes his head spin.

He pictures having you like this on the beach. There’s a bluff he knows about, one away from everything. When the weather is warmer, he’ll take you there. He’ll peel off your bathing suit, lay you on a large fluffy towel, and kiss you between your legs as your moans are drowned out by the ocean waves. Then, he’ll make love to you while the sex and sun warms your bodies.

For now, while the winter settles in, he’ll have you sit on the couch and he’ll sink between your legs, eating you out for as long as either of you can manage. How many times can he make you cum like this? He can’t wait to find out.

By the time your pleasure peaks, the shower’s gone cold. Your body is teaming with goosebumps as you cry him name for the final time, walls clamping down around his fingers while he tongues your swollen clit.

Tom gives you more lazy kisses before he stands, letting the water clean his face for a moment before he reaches to blindly turn it off. You hug him, just hug him, standing there dripping wet with your bodies pressed tight. He returns the embrace, his smile never once wavering. Chilly and tired, the two of you hurry to dry yourselves and slip into comfortable clothes. Well, you put on clothes. Tom puts on a fresh pair of boxers and nothing else.

Thoroughly satisfied at the moment, Tom tries to figure out what to do with him himself now that you have to work. You settle into the corner of the couch with your laptop, a fresh cuppa on the small end table and your feet propped on an ottoman.

Tom lays next to you, his head against your thigh since your lap is occupied by your computer. Before he gets comfortable, he wraps himself in one of your fuzzy blankets. While you type, he scans the channels, trying to find something to watch on the telly. Inevitably, his eyes droop and he concludes a nap is a much better idea. The weather is still gray and windy, the perfect setting for a long lazy day.

Like he had done earlier, he dozes for a time, lulled to sleep by the steady tapping of the keyboard. Occasionally, it stops and your hand strokes his hair as you read back what you wrote. Tom smiles, feeling content and loved.

Laying there with you, knowing he’s present in your mind even while you work has his heart swelling. If this is what awaits him in the future, he’s all for it. Hours later, when you’ve written enough and curl up to join him in his napping, he knows that he’ll never feel lonely again so long as you’re in his life.

#tom grant #tom grant x reader #tom grant x you #tom grant x female reader #tom make up #joe quinn make up #joseph quinn make up #make up 2019 #joe quinn #joseph quinn

[joekeeryswife]

Omg hi!! I saw your taking requests for Tom from Make Up!!! Can I request one where the reader gets a call from one of his friends and has to pick him up from the pub and he’s SUPER wasted and the reader has to take care of him all night? Ty Ty!!!

Smashed - T.G

hi love thank you for your request! this is so bad and i’m so sorry. i’ve been so busy at work and it’s been a hectic week but i guess enjoy <3

you had moved to Cornwall two years ago and in that time you met your boyfriend Tom. he came into your life at a terrible time and being with him made you come out of the negative mental state you were in and you were so grateful for him. he worked on the caravan park site, where you both lived, and decided tonight he'd go out to the pub with a few work friends which you didn't mind. you weren't really the going out type and staying home sounded so much better than going out.

you were sat on the sofa, TV playing some random show whilst you were reading 'It Ends with Us', your phone next to you as you concentrated on the book. you loved to read whether is was in your heads or reading out loud in bed to comfort Tom, sending him into a deep sleep. your reading was cut short when your phone had a non stop buzzing sound coming from it. you looked at your phone seeing it said 'incoming call from Daniel'. he was one of Toms closest friends but he never called you, he had no reason to do for him to call you made you worried.

"hey Daniel, everything okay?" you asked, balancing the phone between your ear and shoulder as you put your bookmark in your book. "hey y/n. everything's fine it's just Tom is pissed out of his head and i was just wondering if you could come get him? he's like calling your name so i'm assuming he wants you" Daniel said, making you smile shyly. "i'll be there soon, i'll call you when i'm outside" you said, walking to the door to slip on your sliders. you weren't dressing to impress anyone so pyjamas and sliders would do.

you grabbed your keys and slipped them into your pocket as you walked out the door. you locked it then made your way to the car, hoping that Tom was okay. he never usually got drunk and when he did he would turn into the biggest baby ever. he would be so clingy and cuddly which you didn't mind on you, but if he was doing that to his friends you knew he would be embarrassed when you told him in the morning. the drive to the pub was quick, it was about 20 minutes away so you didn't mind driving to get him.

when you arrived outside the pub, you didn't have to call Daniel. he was already outside with Tom, he was lent against the wall, head in his hands as Daniel tried to keep him against the wall so he wouldn't fall. you stopped the car and quickly rushed to Daniel and Tom. you could head Tom groaning and his slurred voice as you walked closer to the pair. "no man i just need y/n" he slurred, rubbing his eye. you approached the two and Daniel felt relieved, he had him waiting outside so he could go straight home instead of drinking more.

"oh y/n thank god. he's been asking about you for ages." Daniel said as you placed your hand on Tom's shoulder. "don't worry, i can take it from here. go have a good time and thank you for taking care of him" you replied sending him a smile which he reciprocated and then went back to the bar. Tom still had his head in his hands, still lent against the wall. "Tom, love, i'm here baby" you said, stroking his shoulder comfortingly, he finally looked up and his face completely changed.

he looked sad when he looked up but then he saw you and flung his arms around your shoulders, pulling you into his hold. "y/n. oh my god i missed you so much" Tom said, leaving a sloppy kiss on your temple. "hi sweetheart. you ready to go home" you laughed, your hand rubbing up and down his back. "yes i am. i can't wait to cuddle and sleep" he said as you pulled away from the hug, his eyes closed as he swayed slightly.

you smiled and pulled him gently to the car, holding his hand as you guided him along the pathway. "woah the world is moving" he said as he swayed as he walked closer and closer to the car. you laughed loudly as you finally got to the car and opened the passenger door for him. he sat down in the seat and as soon as you closed the door his head fell onto the window, eyes closed as he 'rested his eyes' as he liked to call it. you got into the car and started driving home. the whole way home the car was almost silent worn Toms small snores filling the car.

you kept looking over at Tom, making sure he was okay as you drove to the caravan. after ten minutes, Toms head moved from the window to your shoulder, getting more comfortable as he slept. you let your hand move to stroke his cheek, giving him some comfort as you drove. you arrived home 15 minutes later and parked the car as close as you could to the caravan which was the car park down the road. you took the key out of the ignition and turned the car light on. you quietly opened the car door and walked around to the passenger side to help Tom out of the car.

you opened the passenger door and gently shook Tom awake. "Tom, sweetheart. do you think you can get out of the car?" you whispered, hand on his shoulder as he opened his eyes and looked at his surroundings. he allowed you to help him out of the car and walk to the caravan. the walk to the caravan was filled with Tom slurring his sentences and almost tripping up over nothing. once you'd got into the caravan you got Tom into the bedroom and sat him down on the bed. you started taking off his clothes so you could put on his pyjamas but he stopped you by grabbing your hands.

"excuse me. i have a girlfriend and i do not consent" he said, making you smile at him. even in his drunken state he was loyal to you and you were so grateful. "Tom, love, i am your girlfriend i'm just trying to help you get into your pyjamas" you said, stroking his arm comfortingly. he looked at you confused for a moment before his face changed to content and happy. "baby, oh i missed you so much" he said, smile widening as he pulled you into a tight hug. "i missed you too. now let's get you into your pyjamas so we can go to bed" you replied as your hand went up to stroke his cheek softly.

you helped him get changed into his pyjamas and got him into bed before getting yourself ready for bed.you brushed your teeth and washed your face before turning the lights off and made your way back to the bedroom where Tom was already fast asleep. you slipped into bed and Tom immediately laid his head on your chest, cuddling into you more. "goodnight love. sweet dreams” you said, kissing his forehead as he snored loudly, obviously in a deep sleep. you let your chin rest on top of his head, letting yourself fall asleep. whenever Tom slept he always let his head fall to your chest. it was like the only thing that helped him get to sleep was the sound of your heartbeat and you loved him so much.

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