#tom.filth

extended nsfw warnings: fem masturbation, oral (fem and male receiving), mentions of vibrating egg, edging and denial, dirty talk, reader definitely has a pain kink (...): biting, spanking + hair pulling, face-fucking, dom!tom, rough sex™️, shower shenanigans, doggy-style, unprotected sex — please wrap before you tap if you do this irl thank you very very much !!

*:·ﾟ✧Ritual ✧·ﾟ:*

Thump. Smack. Thump.

Tom’s fists rain down over the punching bag, and there’s a metallic clicking sound as the object goes spinning in the air. You watch as he pirouettes around the bag, dodging its movements between swings, getting in hit after hit after hit. He slowly works his way around the object, his face screwed into an expression of empowered determination as he alternates which bright red glove he uses to pound against the fabric.

You sigh, loudly, the sound dying in the near-empty gym. There’s just something about Tom in the days preceding a fight that makes you squirm.

He’s different. Still the man you know and love so effortlessly, but heightened in the most attractive ways. His senses pull sharper, his jaw carrying a firm line to it, his eyes like roaring fires. As Tom pounds his fists against the bag, his sweaty brown curls stick to the top of his forehead, contrasting the bright pink tones staining his cheeks. You watch the muscles in his arms tense and flex, pale skin on display due to the tight black vest that clings tightly to his torso. You know if he turned around properly, you’d be able to make out the sunken lines of his abs, packed rigidly with muscle.

You bite your lower lip, stifling a moan. You find Tom attractive enough under normal conditions, let alone when he’s like this: eyes glowing with determination, body burning with passion as he takes swing after swing at the punching bag like he’s got a personal vendetta against it.

“Having fun?”

You startle, clutching at your chest as you turn around to look at Harrison Osterfield, Tom’s sports psychologist. A frown instantly springs out across your mouth, and you reach up to begrudgingly take the bottle of water he offers you.

“I hate you,” you grunt. You sit up a little straighter before leaning back against the wall. You’re waiting for Tom to finish his workout, sitting on one of the benches in the gym. You’d started out the session sparring together, but you’d called quits after twenty minutes against him. Unlike Tom, you don’t have the biggest fight of your career in two weeks—and, honestly, you enjoy watching him like this more than you enjoy trying to keep up with him in the ring.

Harrison frowns as he drops to sit beside you, nudging your shoulder.

“I’m wounded, love,” he says, smirking at you. “What have I done this time?”

You roll your eyes. “You know exactly what you’ve done, Haz.”

Harrison raises an eyebrow, tutting. “You know this is for the best, Y/N.”

You cross your arms over your chest. “Fuck the best.”

When Harrison had joined Tom’s team at the start of the season, he’d come boasting all the new sciences of a young university graduate. He’d suggested Tom adopt a series of rituals to help him focus before a big match—small things, initially, like taking cold showers and limiting the time he spends on his phone. Yet, as the competition has progressed and Tom has risen further and further up the ranks, the rituals have grown more intense, more focused. It’s reached the point that now, two weeks before the big match, Tom has reached his final form. As instructed, he visits the sauna every other day, receives daily massages from the most esteemed sports therapists in Europe, drinks multiple cups of pure, fresh herbal tea a day. There are no distractions—his phone is permanently on silent, he’s cut out naps, he’s eliminated music. No distractions, no impurities, no sex.

No sex, because according to Harrison, nothing gets adrenaline rushing and frustration festering like an extended period of denial. No sex, which is a problem, for you, because Tom has never looked as fit as he does now, launching himself at the punching bag, sweat dripping down his forehead. His biceps flex and bulge and you have to cross your legs as you tighten your grip on the water bottle.

“He’ll win,” Harrison mutters, lowly. You glance towards him, taking in the sight of the older man with his face doused in the harsh fluorescent lights of the gym. “He’s good. Got the best form I’ve ever seen.” He lowers his voice, glancing at you shrewdly. “Don’t distract him, alright? He’s on fire.”

You grumble something incoherent beneath your breath before sighing and sitting up straighter.

“It’s fucked that you get to decide when I get laid, Haz. You know that, right?”

He raises an eyebrow, cheeks blushing a light pink. “Uh, well, I didn’t actually know that he’d go through with that part of it,” Harrison admits. “But if it works, don’t knock it. He wants to win.”

You sit back, resting your shoulders against the wall as you groan. “I want him to win, too,” you say. You look down at your fingers, playing with some of the rings sitting behind your knuckles. “I think it’ll kill him if he doesn’t.”

Both of you look back at Tom, who’s ditched the gloves. You watch him talk with his coach, running a hand through his sweaty hair as he nods, looking focused as he listens to the pointers and tips. You release a relieved sigh as Tom’s coach pats him on the back and walks off, leaving Tom to pick up his towel and his bottle before sauntering over to you and Harrison.

“Hi.” Tom tosses his stuff onto the bench before reaching for your hands. He pulls you up easily and quickly, causing you to squeal as you find yourself in his arms. He’s hot, his entire body flushed with the sweaty, adrenaline-filled afterglow of a good, long workout, and you laugh as he dives down to kiss your neck, soft curls tickling you. “Missed you, darling.”

He works his way up your neck, nibbling softly at your skin before pressing a kiss to your jaw, then your chin, and then, finally, your mouth. It’s light, but then you push against him eagerly and wrap your arms around his neck, and pull him deeper. His tongue slips into your mouth, and you moan happily as you enjoy the feeling of Tom, his skin warm and flushed, his pulse vibrating against you, and his mouth, coming over yours again and again.

“I’m right here,” Harrison mutters, speaking up from behind you. You groan, give Tom a final kiss, and then begrudgingly pull back.

“Sorry,” you call out, stepping closer to Tom as you turn your head to look at Harrison. Tom’s arms come around your waist, and he holds you nearer, humming as he presses his face into your shoulder. “You can always leave.”

Harrison rolls his eyes as he flips you off, causing Tom to chuckle.

“Y/N,” Tom mumbles, voice fond. “Harrison can stay if he wants to stay. I was thinking we could all go get dinner or something.”

To your relief, Harrison is quick to shake his head. He pulls on his jacket as he looks between you and Tom, his eyes lingering on you for a moment as they twinkle with amusement.

“It’s fine. I’ll leave you both alone. I think Y/N’s had enough of me, anyway.” He’s teasing, and you all know it, but you still throw out an easing pout as you shrug.

“Night, Haz,” you say, leaning further into Tom, who echoes your sentiments. As soon as Harrison’s gone, Tom spins you in his arms, his brown eyes bright and glowing with adoration. He kisses you again, and you sigh as you melt further into him, the spark in the pit of your stomach roaring back to life as Tom’s tongue teases your lower lip.

“Come shower with me,” Tom murmurs, hands roaming your back. He pecks the side of your mouth a few times as you hum.

“I can’t,” you find yourself saying, though it pains you considerably. Tom abruptly stops his kisses.

“Why not?” He pouts, pulling back to stare at you. He looks a little bit like an injured puppy, eyes wide with hurt. He squeezes your waist for emphasis.

“We’re in the two-week window, Tom,” you remind him. You reach up, lightly cupping his very hot, very sweaty face, in your palm. “You know we can’t.”

He groans, then dramatically lets his forehead fall to rest on your shoulder. You chuckle, rolling your eyes as you let him pout and rub his back.

“I love you,” he says, after a moment. He pulls back, kissing your neck briefly before sighing. “Thanks for putting up with this.”

“It’s okay.” You bite your lip, tilting your head to the side as you examine him carefully. “It’s kind of hot. You get so frustrated.”

Tom just narrows his eyes, staring at you with an expression mixed between amusement and frustration.

“Go on, champ,” you say, pushing his shoulder gently. “Go shower so we can go home, yeah?”

Tom begrudgingly steps back, opening and closing his mouth a few times as if he’s going to try and change your mind again, but he doesn’t. As much as you know he wants to drag you into a steamy cubicle, his desire to win his match is stronger.

“Be back soon, darling,” he says. “Don’t miss me too much.”

———

The days burn by slowly.

About a week in, you find yourself snapping. You always try to adopt pseudo-chastity with Tom, feeling a little guilty every time you sneak your hand between your legs and chase the highs he can only dream about finding. Yet, you end up reaching breaking point and giving in to temptation one evening, alone in your flat. Tom’s out late at the gym, at the point in the regime where he’s spending most of his days hauled up in the large building, and you just can’t help yourself: you’re so horny.

If you asked him to get you off, you know he’d agree, never wanting to deny you anything. Tom loves you, loves watching you fall apart for him, loves the power trip that comes with knowing your pleasure is in his hands, but you’d just feel too mean. His refusal to have sex in the lead up is as much psychological as it is anything else—you know he finds energy in the ritual, finds aggressive, fiery hormones in the fourteen days of denial. You’d never want to put him in the position where he got tempted to break, no matter how badly you want to cum.

So, you decide to take care of your ache yourself. Or, at least, you try to.

You start off strong. Teasing yourself over your panties, drawing your fingers over the front of your covered sex. You let your eyes flutter shut as you think about Tom, recounting some of the last few sessions you’ve witnessed at the gym. You think about him, his biceps flexing and curling, the subtle curves of his long, slender fingers, his mouth. His features blur, and you find yourself moaning as you dip your fingers beneath the soft cotton and start to stroke your folds. You circle your clit for a while before dipping down to your entrance, touching the pool of your arousal and groaning as you wet your fingers. As your arousal starts to build, you tease your clit, accompanying the action with your other hand after a while. It feels good—so, so good—as you tease your g-spot with your fingers, keeping your thumb on your clit, edging, and edging, and edging, and—

You can’t cum.

A frown settles on your face as you start to grow frustrated. You try to change things up, slowing your movements, letting the high ebb away before trying again. Instead of reaching climax like you crave, you find yourself resting on the edge instead. You’re aroused, your cunt throbbing, your clit tingling, but you can’t quite get there. It’s frustrating.

You’re so caught up in your irritation that you miss the loud slam of the front door, too absorbed in the sounds of your wetness to hear Tom’s yell of greeting. Your eyes are shut as your boyfriend enters the bedroom. You’re not aware he’s home until you hear him tutting, his voice stacked full of amusement and lust. Your eyelids flutter open, and you find yourself looking at him, wide-eyed like a deer stuck in the headlight.

“T-Tom,” you whimper, your movements stilling. You have your legs spread wide open, two fingers buried in your heat, your other hand draped over your bud. A shy smile finds its way across your lips as you batter your eyelashes at him, taking a moment to appreciate the sight of your boyfriend, drowning in a black hoodie and tight blue denim jeans. His hair lies in fresh, air-dried curls, his eyes dark pools of lust. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Tom repeats, imitating your tone. He pushes himself away from the bedroom wall, walking towards you like a lion stalking his prey. You whimper when he reaches down to touch your leg, sliding his hand over your shin teasingly. His eyes glint as he hears you, gaze fixed on the spot between your legs where your hands have stilled. “Oh, please don’t stop on my account, darling,” he teases, smirking. “Keep going. Just because I can’t have fun, doesn’t mean you should have to suffer too.”

You bite your lip, recognising all too well the teasing glint in his eye.

“I can’t,” you admit, shifting around on the mattress as Tom kneels on the end of the bed. Both of his hands are on your legs now, slowly, teasingly, dragging his touch up your shins. Your breath hitches as he slowly works his way up, dipping his head so he’s able to kiss each of your knees, his lips warm and tender.

“What do you mean, you can’t?”

He’s lying down, settled between your legs, slowly kissing up the inside of one of your thighs. It’s hard to concentrate with him so close to your centre.

“Can’t get there,” you mutter, slowly pulling both of your hands away from your mound, leaving you exposed. Tom leans up, raising his eyebrows until you offer him the fingers you’d had buried inside your entrance. He hums as he sucks on your fingers, the sight of him making you moan softly. “I get so close, but I can’t get over the edge.”

Tom licks at the tips of your fingers before releasing them, smirking slowly. “What a shame,” he drawls, sounding the opposite. Both of his hands go to the soft sides of your thighs, and you let him pry your legs apart. He’s so close to your cunt that you can feel his warm breath fanning out across your bud, your folds, your entrance. “Looks like neither of us can cum this week, hmm?”

Before you can reply, Tom drops his head and buries it between your legs. You cry out, sensitive from your edging, your clit throbbing as you feel his tongue, warm and wet, circling the bud. His hands push your hips back down, holding you firmly in place as he moans, drawing his mouth all over your sex.

“Stay still, darling,” he murmurs, voice thick. He glances up at you, a wild look in his eyes. “Be a good girl and let me have a little taste.”  

Your eyes roll back, and you try to lie as still as possible. Tom’s fingers slip into your cunt, exploring your passage, curling up against your g-spot as you whimper.

“So good,” you moan, already feeling your climax twitching in the pit of your stomach. One of your hands goes down to grab at his hair, digging into his curls and keeping his face exactly where you need it, and the other fists the sheets. Your chest rises and falls, your heavy pants mixing with the sounds of Tom’s fingers, fucking your wet heat, and his tongue, teasing the life out of your tender clit. “Please, please.”

“Hmm, you don’t want to cum, do you?” Tom’s words are coupled with a gradual slow in his pace, and you feel your orgasm drifting away as he stills his fingers. He laps over your clit a final time before sitting up a little straighter, looking at you straight on as his chin glistens. “If I don’t get to cum, it doesn't seem fair that you do either, does it?”

His voice is hypnotising, and when his free hand goes to rub warm circles on your inner thigh, you find yourself nodding, transfixed.

“I- I guess.”

Tom smirks, dropping his lips so he can kiss your clit, lightly.

“Are you going to wait for me, sweetheart?” He asks, pink lips puffy and inflamed.

You bite your lip. “Tom,” you whimper, frowning when he lets his fingers pull away from your heat. You watch as he licks his digits clean, still with that wide, confident smirk on his face.

“Hm?” Tom kisses your thigh. “I can make you cum, if you really want to, darling. Just thought it might be nice to do this together.” He rolls both of his hands over your legs, battering his eyelashes at you. “Promise I’ll make it worth your while. Just think about how good it’ll be to wait until next Saturday.” He pushes himself up your body, anchoring himself with a strong arm either side of your head as he suspends himself above you. Tom kisses you, roughly, but only for a moment, letting your lips pull apart when he feels you trying to slip your tongue into his mouth. “Let’s do this together, yeah?”

You hum, thinking on it for a moment, but the scent of his cologne and his fresh shampoo scramble your mind. You find yourself nodding, distracted by the glint in his eyes.

“Okay,” you agree, rolling your eyes when he grins. “We’ll do it together.”

“Good girl.” Tom kisses you, grinning against your lips. “This is going to be fun.”

———

If you’d thought the sex ban was difficult to cope with in the first week, it only gets harder in the second. After giving Tom the green light to have his way with you, he seems to channel all his frustration into you—or, more specifically, into making you as frustrated as possible. He teases you, makes you squirm, beg, cry, letting his mouth wander over your sex or his fingers explore you, any time, any place he feels like it. He never allows you to roll over your edge, just watches, usually smirking, as you try to convince him to let you climax, only to kiss you, softly, and pull away each time.

It happens in the locker room—he pushes you up against the metallic lockers and slips his fingers into you, whispering gentle words with sinful intent.

“Gonna stay quiet for me, darling? Cunt feels so desperate... So tight, so hot. Fucking snug around my fingers, aren’t you? Shh… I know, I know. Feels good for you too, doesn’t it?”

In the showers, when you’re both hot and steamy—Tom drops to his knees and slings one of your thighs over his shoulder, nuzzling his face into your heat.

“Wish I could taste this pussy for the rest of my life, love. Tastes like paradise.”

It even happens in the gym, when he pushes a vibrating egg into you and enjoys teasing you, never warning you before he ups the pace of the bullet, watching with that signature mischievousness on his face.

“Don’t get all shy now, love… I can see the way you’re squirming for me. Bet you’re making a mess in those panties, hmm? Yeah… You can’t hide from me.”

It drives you crazy—beyond crazy. If you thought you’d been mad at Harrison before, you’re practically incandescent with rage by the time fight night comes around.

As your frayed arousal combines with the nerves of the big night, you find yourself alone with Tom, half an hour before the most important match of his career. Your priorities have shifted, your mood sobered by the situation.

“Visualise it,” you murmur, voice soft. You roll your hands over Tom’s shoulders. “Think about how good it’ll feel to hold that belt in your hands.”

Tom hums. He’s sitting on one of the hard wooden benches in the locker room. You’re kneeling behind him, occasionally dropping your lips to kiss the top of his head. After months of supporting him before a fight, you know exactly what he needs: you, touching him, grounding him. He doesn’t like distractions so near to the fight, which is why he has his eyes closed. Whenever he opens them, it’s only to look at the bright red gloves settled in his lap. You know that he appreciates you, even when he’s unable to vocalise it, too lost in his thoughts.

“You’ve trained your whole life for this moment, Tom. You deserve it.”

It’s a mantra. Harrison had taught it to you. Small words of affirmation, repeated softly over the lead-up, speaking them into existence. Tom hums, listening intently.

“You’re going to win,” you speak, your own eyes shut. You focus on the feeling of his shoulders, packed firm with muscles between your hands. “You’re going to win, and then you’re going to fuck me.”

Tom shifts, his posture straightening a little, and your eyes widen as you realise you’ve let your inner thoughts interrupt the ritual.

“I don’t think that’s on Harrison’s script, darling,” he mutters, voice amused.

You reach forward, drawing one of your hands over his forehead. Your fingers play with his hair, and you scrunch up your nose as you chastise yourself for your deviation.

“Sorry,” you murmur. “Just fucking horny. Your fault.”

“Mm, sorry.” Tom grunts when you pull on his hair a little harder, and you repeat the action. “Fuck, love.” He groans louder and tilts his head to the side, exposing the pale column of his neck. “Give me a hickey?”

You oblige, dipping your head so you can rest your lips on his neck. “Where?” You ghost your lips over varying points on his skin, teasing him with light nibbles.

“There,” Tom mutters. One glance at his face confirms he’s still got his eyes shut. When you give in to his desire and start to suck a deep hickey to his skin, he grunts and reaches up to grab at your hands, squeezing your fingers roughly. “Shit.”

“There you go,” you say, voice soft as you pull back.

“Thanks, love,” Tom mutters. “Want to wear it in the ring. Good luck charm.”

You bite your lip, your centre throbbing as you listen to him. You kiss the mark, stained dark against his skin.

“You’ve got this, Tom,” you whisper, redirecting your lips to his ear. His neck prickles with goosebumps when you kiss his earlobe, softly. “You’re going to win, then you’re going to come back, and we’ll celebrate together. Okay?”

Tom’s still holding your hands, firm and eager, and you smile against his neck when he squeezes them.

“Okay,” he agrees. “I’ll win. I’ll do it for you.”

You kiss the back of his head, his soft curls gentle against your cheeks.

“Love you, champ.”

He coaxes one of your hands to his face and kisses the back of your palm.

“Love you too, darling.”

———

The atmosphere sharpens when Tom gets out to the ring.

It’s a big match. The press is here, the fight streamed live to thousands of people across the world. As Tom strides into the ring to take on his opponent, you settle at the side of it, looking up through the ropes with Harrison by your side.

Tom starts off strong—a few hard jabs here, some quick punches there. He dodges and rolls, his bright red gloves raining down over his opponent. Yet, both Tom and his rival are the best of their class, so it’s a nail-biting half-hour spent with your fingers crossed, eyes trained on your boyfriend as he throws everything he has into the ring.

When they break halfway through the match for a few minutes of respite, you’re quick to slip up into the ring and assist Tom’s trainer as they patch up his injured hand. Tom doesn’t say anything, his teeth frozen in the hard white mouth guard, but he squeezes your hand before you step out again, and you know he’s still in there.

The second half only gets more intense—both of them knowing how close the match is, and adjusting accordingly. Tom and his opponent are more reckless, more brutal, and you watch your boyfriend take risks he’d promised to never try to take. It leaves you an anxious mess, but you can’t help but watch him in awe.

Tom’s time in the ring is a performance, beautifully violent, elegantly composed. Spit sprays, sweat drips, blood rolls. He’s loud—very vocal, his sounds almost brutish. His eyes glint black, brown curls stiff with sweat, face on fire. You find it incredibly attractive to watch him in his element, not just because he physically looks incredible, but also because he’s so utterly committed to his trade that everything else fades away. His passion burns, scorches the ground, ripples over his opponent, and in the end, Tom rises, and his rival sinks.

It’s close, and though you have the suspicion that your boyfriend might have snagged it, you hold your breath until it’s confirmed. Your grip on Harrison’s hand is so tight that he curses, but you don’t release it until the MC yells Tom’s name as champion and thrusts his arm triumphantly into the air.

The arena explodes. Your ears ring as you clap and cheer, tears of pride pooling in your eyes. The first thing Tom does is turn around, looking at you with an expression of elated shock on his face. Then, after accepting the belt and speaking a few hurried words of thanks into the microphone of the leading journalist, he comes straight to you.

“Tom!” You exclaim, shaking from emotion. It’s a blend of adrenaline, pride and nerves, cooling your body, making you quiver. Tom reaches down from the ring and grabs both of your hands, jerking you up to him. You dodge past the ropes, almost tripping in his haste, but he grabs you.

Still with the bright stage lights blinding the ring, Tom sweeps you into a deep, passionate kiss, his hot hands burning into your waist. You release a loud noise of surprise, taken entirely off-guard but rolling with the punches. Tom pushes you back against the ropes of the ring as your hands curl into his sweaty hair, and your brief hope that they’ve stopped broadcasting live is set aside as Tom comes closer, caging you in with his buff arms. It’s messy and dirty, his tongue twisting against yours, lips firm, intense, but it’s everything. As you let go of the tension you’d been harbouring all evening, another very prominent emotion burns to the surface: arousal.

“I fucking did it,” Tom breathes finally, forehead pushed to yours. He sounds so proud of himself that it makes you smile, tears reappearing in your eyes as you nod.

“You did,” you confirm. You pull on his hair and push him back so you’re able to see his eyes, dark and hungry. “I’m so proud of you, baby.”

“Couldn’t have done it without you.”

He stares into your eyes for a moment, and then kisses you again, with so much intensity it knocks your breath from your lungs. When he pulls back, he uses one very hot hand to cup your cheek, holding you tightly.

“I have to do some interview shit,” Tom says, grimacing. He tilts his head at the championship belt, which now lies on the floor of the ring, discarded. He’s smirking as he brings his gaze back to you. “Meet me in the locker room? Ten minutes.”

You nod.

“Don’t be late.”

———

You wait for Tom in the team’s locker room, taking the time to lock all of the side doors that lead out from the room. His team has been around the two of you for long enough to know that it’s best to give you a wide berth in the few hours after Tom’s won a match, but you can never be too sure. Once you’re finished with that, you go to the liberty of pulling off your shoes, your jumper, and all the jewellery you’d put on for the night.

Then, you wait.

You wait, and you think about how magnificent Tom had looked as he’d fought, arms flexing, jaw set firm in a focused grimace. You rewatch the scenes of him thrusting the belt into the air, yelling elatedly. You think about how fucking mad he’s made you feel over the last two weeks, edging you and denying you, over and over again. It feels as though you’ve been permanently aroused for seven days straight, and now is no exception: just from spending all evening ogling him, you can feel your arousal wetting the front of your panties.

“Fuck,” Tom exclaims, suddenly bursting into the locker room. You turn around to watch him sling the championship belt over his shoulder as he hurries to flick the lock on the main door, knowing the routine as well as you. When he gets it, he turns and stalks over to you, picking up into a jog. “That took so fucking long,” he groans. He throws the belt away and pulls you from the bench, pushing you until your back bumps up against one of the metal lockers. Tom grins, his nose pressing to yours as he smothers you, hands back on your hips, forehead to yours, breath spreading over your face. “Couldn’t wait to get back here and see you.”

You draw your hands over his back, feeling his muscles tense and flex.

“Just see me?” You ask, ghosting your lips over his.

Tom tightens his grip on your waist. “No,” he mutters darkly. He kisses you, only for a second, but very hard. “Couldn’t wait to get back here, rip your clothes off, and finally give you everything you deserve.”

“Everything I deserve?” You raise your eyebrows, running your hands lower. “I think you deserve more, baby.” You smirk against his lips. “You just won the biggest fight of your life.”

“That’s true…” Tom steps back, only for a moment, and you watch as he reaches beneath the waistband of his gym shorts and grunts. A second later, he pulls out the hard protective cup that shields his lower half from injury in the ring, and he groans, loudly, his forehead pressing to yours. “I’m so fucking hard, darling,” he whines. He steps closer, and you feel him, stiff as a rod, pressing into your thigh. “Need to get it out of me.”

You nod, your head moving back as Tom runs a hand over your throat and tilts it to the side. His lips attack your neck, biting hard kisses to the side of your throat that make you moan, your pulse feeling strong between your legs.

“Shit,” you curse. “Get in the shower.”

Tom sucks a harsh hickey just below your ear before pulling back to wiggle his eyebrows. “The shower, eh?”

“Yeah.” You step out of his hold and start to tear off your clothes, your skin rippling with heat. “Gonna suck you off.” You fling your t-shirt to the ground and roll down your jeans, watching as Tom does the same. “Then… Then, you can fuck me… Shit, I’m definitely going to need you to fuck me.” You throw your bra aside and then push down your panties, the waistband rolling in on itself due to your speed. “I’m so wet, Tom.”

“You don’t need to convince me,” Tom says, eyes taking in your bare form. “Been dreaming about feeling you again, love.” He finally pulls down his boxers, and his hard cock springs out. “Two weeks is far too long. Get over here.”

Tom grabs your hand and tugs you into one of the wide shower cubicles. Both of you curse as he turns the valve and the water comes out freezing cold, but the stark contrast to the raging fire burning up your insides is nice.

You kiss him for a while, as the two of you get soapy and Tom washes away the grime. His skin is soft beneath your hands and the noises he makes as you massage his dodgy shoulder would be erotic enough without the presence of his cock, hard and leaking precum, resting between your thighs. You make out for a while, savouring every moment and enjoying the fact you’re now able to kiss him for longer than two seconds without worrying about exciting him too much. It’s still just as intense as before, but less hurried, and more passionate—Tom’s fingers pushing your damp hair out of your face, water droplets rolling down your figures. To be so bare in front of him and have him so ravenous for you makes you want him more than anything.

“Get back,” you murmur, pushing his shoulders. Tom obeys, his body pressing against the yellow tiled wall. You run a trail of kisses down his torso, paying attention to both of his pecs before his abs, then his v-line. Your knees bend, and you kneel on the floor, kissing up his thighs briefly before finally taking him in hand.

“Fuck-” Tom yells. His hands wind into your hair, flat palms grasping at your skull when you drag your tongue over his tip. “Been so long, love, I won’t last long at all.”

You hum as you tenderly lick over his head, absorbing his salty precum and moaning at the taste. “I know,” you say, your hand slowly tugging his length. You give his tip a chaste kiss as you blink up at him, smiling innocently. “I don’t want you to last long. I want you to cum down my throat.” Very slowly, you envelop his tip in your mouth, bobbing your head gently. You pull back after only a few moments, needing to add, “Want you to fuck my face, Tom.”

Your boyfriend moves one of his hands to your cheek, his voice strained from the way your hand is pumping his lower shaft. “Are you sure? Might not be gentle.”

“Yeah.” You nod your head too. “Want it rough. ‘M so fucking horny, and so are you. Want you to make my throat ache tomorrow.”

Tom curses, his eyes fluttering shut. “You’re so sexy,” he whines, slapping your cheek gently. “Thank you.”

You consider telling him that it’s almost as much for you as it is for him, but then you decide that the sight of his cock, flushed red, leaking precum, is your number one priority. So, you loosen your hand on his member and remove it completely, then soften your jaw and start to take him in your mouth, deep-throating him like you’ve ached to do for two weeks.

Tom’s fast to use his leverage on your head, guiding you with shaking hands. Both of you know that all you have to do to tap out is press his thigh, so you let him use you however he needs. Tears pool in your eyes as he fucks your mouth hard, his tip hitting the end of your throat until you gag. The lewd sounds mix with the pounding of the shower against the tiles and Tom’s grumbled groans that spiral up into the air.

“Shit, shit, shit,” he says, voice raspy and light. “So good, sweetheart, fuck. Such a pretty mouth. Feels so bloody good.” He breaks off for a moment, and you feel him shifting around on the wall, indicating he’s near his peak. “So messy too, fuck. Missed this. Watching you on your knees, gagging on my cock.” He tightens his grip on your hair and pushes you deeper, groaning loudly as he does so. “Fuck, I’m gonna blow. Gonna cum all down your throat. Shit, shit-”

Tom stops moving your head as he yelps, one of his hands curling into a fist and hitting back against the wall as he cums suddenly. You swallow around him, pulling up until your lips are at his tip, and your hand goes up to pump the rest of him through his orgasm. His entire body shakes, releasing the pent-up frustration that comes with so long in denial, and you take joy in the light whimpers he deposits into the air as you suck on his tip, cleaning him up.

“Holy…” Tom grabs your hair and pulls you back up, slumping against you instead of the wall as he pants. After taking a moment to gather himself, he pulls back to look at you, his thumb coming up to play with the beads of his cum that stain the corner of your mouth. “Made a mess,” he coos, pushing his seed onto your tongue. You grin as you suck his thumb further into your mouth, delighting as he curses. “You’re going to be the death of me, sweetheart. You really are.”

You release his finger with a pop, shrugging. “How was that?”

Tom groans again, the sound almost orgasmic. “So good,” he mumbles. “Been so long, darling. So, so long.” He kisses your face, dusting your cheeks in light, loving kisses. When he pulls back, his eyes are a little darker. “Bet you’d like to chase that high too, wouldn’t you?” He accompanies his words with a sly hand, slipping down between your legs. When he feels your slick, so pronounced it’s coating your inner thighs, he tuts, smirking. “All this for me?”

You nod, whining breathlessly as he slips two fingers up to toy with your bud. You feel like a livewire—strung out and pulsing, white-hot. Unlike him, you’ve had some stimulation over the last two weeks. Just, you’ve also been cruelly pulled away from the edge, every single time.

“Just for you,” you agree. Your face drops forward, and you find yourself biting Tom’s broad shoulder as he curls two fingers into you with ease.

“You’re so hot in here,” he mutters, “and so wet, too. Fuck, love. You’re dripping down my hand.” When he angles his digits up to caress your g-spot, he strikes it immediately, and you moan noisily. “There you go, baby. Shh. It’s okay.” Tom fucks your tight heat, gradually unravelling you. “I’ve got you.”

Your moans come out strangled, and you feel yourself clenching around his fingers as your high builds quickly. It won’t take much to push you over the edge, and as much as it pains you—

“I don’t want to cum on your hand, Tom,” you manage, your voice betraying you by splitting into a whimper. “Want to cum on your cock.”

Tom slows his fingers, but he keeps thrusting them into you, just too slowly for you to peak. You groan, your centre pulsing as he keeps you burning near the edge, his lips on your neck again. He gently kisses up to your ear, mouth feather-light.

“Are you sure?” He coos, nibbling at your earlobe. “Feels like you want to cum.” When Tom adds his other hand, two fingers gently stroking your tender bud, your knees almost give out. “Can feel you clenching around me, Y/N, naughty girl.” He kisses just below your ear. “If you want something, you know how you need to ask for it.”

You’re all over the place, your eyes squeezed shut, sweat breaking out over your forehead, your cunt clenching and releasing every other second. You’re so close you can almost taste it, but you try to exercise self-control.

“Please, Tom.” It takes everything in you, but you manage to stand up straighter again, looking at him straight-on. His eyes dance dark with power and lust, his smirk unmoving as he thrusts his fingers a little faster. “W-Want you to fuck me. Been waiting so long, don’t want to fall apart if it isn’t with you behind me. Please, please, please, please-”

He cuts you off with a hard kiss, and finally, Tom pulls his hands away. He runs them both through the stream of water before reaching back to clumsily turn off the valve.

“I fucking love you,” he tells you. “Couldn’t deny you anything. Not really.” Tom takes your hand. “C’mere.”

Tom carefully pulls you over to one of the wooden benches. After draping a towel over the wooden slats, he pushes you down onto your hands and knees, his fingers spreading your legs. You whimper as you feel his cock, hard again, refracted in the interlude he’d constructed with his hands working you into insanity. Your knuckles clench around the slabs of wood, and despite already feeling the ache in your knees, it only spurs you on. You love the pain, love the visible, throbbing reminders of Tom, and he knows it just as much as you do.

“Look so pretty like this, darling,” Tom says, voice drifting through the air. Both of his hands go to your ass, roughly massaging your skin until his right hand slaps down across you, stinging bright hot. He repeats the action when you moan loudly, the slapping sound ringing out through the air. Each time his hand falls over you, you only grow hotter. It doesn’t matter that you’re still covered in water from the shower, you’re burning up. “G’nna let me take you like this, eh? Fuck this tight little pussy, like I know you’ve been dreaming of.”

When Tom lines his tip up with your entrance, you find yourself clinging to the edge of the bench with your fingers.

“Yes,” you beg, backing up against him. You feel like you might dissolve into a mess of arousal, tears, and desperation if he doesn’t satisfy you soon. “Please.”

Tom runs a hand up your back, fingers drifting over the line of your spine. He drops his lips and kisses the lower part of your back, so delicately it makes you quiver.

“Okay,” he says. “G’nna give it to you good.”

He enters you quickly and easily, and you almost lose it from the first thrust alone. You’re so slick that Tom’s swift in pulling back and then slamming back into you, his hands holding your hips back and in place as your arms wobble and your figure loses control. You drop your head between your arms, the blood rushing to your skull and making you feel light-headed as he rocks into you, over and over again, giving you everything you’ve ever wanted and more.

“Tom,” you gasp, your breaths heavy and inconsistent. It feels indescribable—the final denouement of your time apart. Each drag of his cock through your heat has you reeling, your walls quivering and clenching and trying desperately to keep him in, keep him nudging your g-spot, stimulating your passage. You’re moaning louder than you’ve ever moaned before, the coil in your stomach building and building without warning or direction.

Behind you, Tom seems to be enjoying it just as much as you. His libido strong and healthy and his body pumped full of pre-match adrenaline that it doesn’t surprise you in the slightest that he’s being so hard and purposeful in his movements. His groans are like music to your ears, small grunts of affirmation that he too has missed the paradise that unfolds when you join together.

“So fucking tight, angel,” he rasps, again letting his hand fall over your ass. He soothes the skin with his palm, and then he repeats the action two more times. “Feel you clenching me every time I do that.” He pinches your hip with his other hand, and you find yourself biting your forearm, embarrassed by how loud you think you’d moan if you were able to. “You love it rough like this, don’t you, darling? Mm… I know you do.”

It’s a dizzying blur of skin on skin for a while, and you feel yourself teetering on the edge on multiple occasions. It’s as if your body is holding back though, waiting on Tom to near it too before you’re able to fully let go. Almost sensing this, he reaches down and shoves his fingers in your hair, roughly tugging you up until your back is pressed against his front. The angle pushes him deeper, and your eyes flood with tears as you find yourself unable to comprehend just how good it feels.

“Y’like that?” He rasps. Tom drags a hand down to your clit, able to access it better now that he’s holding you so much closer. His pace is slower, but he’s going forcefully, his head hitting your g-spot every time. “Fuck, darling, I’m gonna cum if you keep clenching like that.”

You whimper, your chest heaving.

“Yeah,” you moan. His name pours from your lips like a prayer, rising in desperation as you slip back down, hands grabbing at the slats of the bench as you hold on for dear life. “Fuck, fuck, ‘m gonna cum.”

“Come on,” Tom urges. “Do it. I want to feel you squeezing my cock so tight, like you always do. Always makes me lose it, doesn’t it, love? Shit, you’re so perfect. Go on. I’ve got you. Get my cock nice and wet, and I’ll fill you up. You’d like that, eh? Feeling me cumming inside this pretty pussy? Come on. You know what you have to do.”

It slams into you, pouring down over you in waves that submerge you entirely. You feel boneless but also rigid at the same time, your jaw slack as your vision blurs. Pleasure ripples out from your centre, dousing your aching cunt in relief that feels so sweet, only growing richer and more fulfilling when you hear Tom grunt and feel his cock pulse in you. You come together, bodies moving in sync, perfectly, despite the time apart, and it’s so good that it takes you out of it completely.

You’re so absorbed in your climax that you end up drifting, opening your eyes a few moments later only to find yourself lying on your back, staring up at the bright white lines of the locker room ceiling. Your eyes blur with tears, but just for a moment, because then Tom’s palm swims into vision, drifting above your head until he finds the right angle that blocks out the light.

“Hey, darling,” he coos. He brings one of your hands to his lips, kissing your knuckles softly. “Are you okay? Lost you for a second.”

A very lazy, content smile finds your lips.

“Yeah,” you say sluggishly. You ache all over, but it feels incredible. You’re buzzing with the kind of energy that only comes after a session like this—after you’ve let him dismantle you completely. “Are you okay?”

Tom nods, his wet hair flying everywhere. “Fantastic,” he confirms. He glances down your figure, then offers you a soft smile. “I’m going to take you home, run you a really, really nice bath, and then we’re going to cuddle.” He drops your hand and instead cups your face in his palm. You nuzzle into it. His eyes are so soft as he gazes at you tenderly. “You’re so lovely, Y/N. I love you.”

You smile softly. “Love you too.”

Tom leans over you and kisses your lips, very gently, before shifting his mouth all over the rest of your face. He goes from one cheek, over to your forehead, down your nose, to the other, before circling back to your mouth. By the time he reaches there, your smile has grown to a grin, and you feel grounded enough to reach up and loop your fingers into his hair.

“Thank you,” he says, speaking earnestly, “for always being here for me. For supporting me, and putting up with all my crazy ideas, and being incredible, always. You are my inspiration, and I love you more than anything.”

You feel your heart throb in your chest, and you have to focus really hard on stopping the swell of emotion from leaving through your tired eyes.

“Any time,” you say, nodding to emphasise your point. “I love you, and I’m here for you. Whatever you might need, I’ll do it.”

Tom’s warm brown eyes meet with yours, and the smile on his face shows no sign of leaving.

“All I need is you,” he says. His lips come down to yours, softly, just resting there. “All I’ll ever need is you.”

—

———

:)) I rlly like this tbh. I hope you do too !

please let me know what you thought by hitting up my askbox or dropping a comment/rb...? thank you thank you!

warnings ↠ fingering, oral (f receiving) and overstimulation :’)

*:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧ *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧ *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧

Tom hadn’t thought about the repercussions of his actions, but as he walks into your bedroom and finds you sprawled out across the mattress, half-naked and sleeping, he finds himself regretting his decisions. He curses--softly, so he doesn’t disturb you, but with enough bite to make it count. His fingers curl into frustrated fists at his sides as he leans back against the doorway, eyes skimming over you.

He hadn’t intentionally bailed on date night, but something had come up. He’d texted you, grovelled profusely, tacked on a series of those heart emojis you’re so fond of as he’d sprinkled his messages with Xs, promising it wouldn’t happen again, promising he’d be there next time. You’re lovely--you’re always lovely, even when Tom fucks up--but even he’d been able to tell that you’d been annoyed. This is the second date in a row that he’s cancelled, and it’s clear you’re pissed.

You’re wearing lingerie. With your sleepy lips puckered into an unassuming pout, you look almost angelic, sprawled out, asleep. But Tom knows exactly what you’re like, knows that you’d fallen asleep, wrapped up in tight red lace like this just to rub it in. He chuckles slightly as he finds himself nodding. He has to give it to you--you always know how to get to him, and you always succeed.

Pushing away from the door, Tom stifles a yawn. If you weren’t sleeping so deeply, he’d wake you up and start his grovelling right away, but he knows better than to pounce. He doesn’t want to disturb your beauty sleep when he’s already treading on thin ice.

As Tom walks through to the ensuite and strips off his clothes, he keeps the door open, both of his eyes fixed on you, admiring you, tracing you, loving you. Fuck, his heart swells as you murmur something in your sleep and turn over, frowning as you try to get comfortable. Tom’s never going to cancel on you again.

After turning off all the lights and padding over to bed, only in his boxers, Tom very carefully starts trying to move you. You’re asleep on top of the duvet, which is slightly problematic, but he’s strong, and gentle, and he manages to coax you into resting on the mattress instead. When you don’t make any obvious movements, he thinks you’re still asleep, so climbs in after you and rolls over, wrapping his arms around you and spooning you as he nestles his face into the back of your neck.

You’re so soft. You smell of peaches, and as Tom gently rolls his hand over the rise of your exposed hip, he marvels at how warm your skin is. He rolls his fingers over your side, nuzzling closer, trying to pull you as close as possible. As he starts to press gentle kisses to your shoulder, he wonders if your sleeping form can feel how fucking sorry he is, can tell in the soft nuzzles of his mouth how apologetic and guilty he feels now.

“Y’know, I am awake,” you mutter, voice tired. “You’re not good at being quiet.”

Tom pauses his movements. He wonders if you can feel him wince. Your tone is terse.

“I’m sorry,” he says immediately, voice quiet. He kisses your shoulder again and, knowing you’re awake, smooths his hand down to rest over your lower abdomen. His fingertips play with the trim of your lacy panties, fiddling as he hums. “I’m a dick for cancelling, darling. I am very sorry.”

You make a tsking sound. “Are you actually sorry, or are you just trying to get back in my good books?”

Tom hums. “Both,” he admits. He kisses your cheek before sitting up on his side, digging his elbow into the pillows. You roll onto your back, darkened eyes meeting his as you stare at him, the ghost of a smile building on your lips.

Tom brings his hand up and tentatively cups your chin between his thumb and index finger, using the touch to angle your face towards him. When you hum in approval, Tom leans down, kissing you gently. He hopes that you can feel how apologetic he is through his mouth, and he feels his heart lighten when you reach up to run a hand over the side of his face before twisting it into his hair. As your lips become warm and slick with spit, Tom hums, trying to move closer only for you to stop him by pulling away and pressing the tips of your fingers to his lips.

“Oh?” you tease. “You think it’s going to be that easy?” There’s a mischievous glint in your eyes, and Tom watches as you sit up straight. The duvet falls down to pool at your waist, exposing your sheer bralette. Tom swallows as he sees your nipples, hard and straining against the flimsy material.

“No?” Tom replies.

You laugh. You reach out and touch his cheek, angling his face until Tom’s eyes are back on yours. “You need to make it up to me,” you say. For the first time, hurt seeps into your eyes. Tom’s guilt reappears, overpowering all of the lust that had emerged as he’d seen you wrapped up in lace.

“I’m really sorry,” he says again, and Tom means it. He moves, smiling slightly as he slides on top of you, pushing you back down onto the mattress as he cages you in with an arm on either side of your face. He nuzzles the tip of his nose against yours. “I love you, baby, and I’m sorry for letting you down. It won’t happen again.” He kisses you gently. “I know I said that last time,” he adds, whispering softly, “but I promise. Nothing is more important than you. Nothing.”

You comb your fingers through his hair. “Yeah?”

“Of course,” he says, and it’s true. You’re everything. “Can I make it up to you now?” he murmurs. Tom draws his lips over your face, kissing in a line until he’s whispering into your ear, voice growing raspy. “Let me make you feel good.”

You hum, drawing it out as you pretend to think about it. Tom moans as you tug on his hair, your hands then skimming away to careen down the muscles of his back. You tease him, pressing your fingers into his shoulders as you slowly grind up to press your centre against Tom’s crotch. He grunts, face falling into the crook of your neck as he feels himself harden again.

“Are you alright down there?” you tease, hand drifting down to rest over his ass. Tom moans as you pull him closer, keeping his crotch against yours as you encourage him to grind against your heat.

He releases a noise of strangled enjoyment. It takes all of his self-control to pull away, kissing your chin when you raise a brow. “This is about you,” he decides. “Not me.”

You swallow. “Okay,” you agree, catching your lower lip between your teeth. “I had some fun without you,” you add, smirking when Tom raises a brow. “Can you blame me?”

He shakes his head. “‘Course not,” he says. “Love you,” he adds, then he gets to work.

Tom presses kisses to every part of your body as he gently moves down your figure, resting at your chest to lap over each one of your nipples with his tongue. As the lace of your bra gets soaked with spit, Tom picks up his pace, drawn to your low moans. When he’s not rolling his tongue around your nipples, he’s cupping your breasts in his palms and massaging your chest with his fingers, alternating between light teasing touches and more substantial grabs that make you release the prettiest groans.

By the time Tom reaches your centre, he isn’t surprised to see you quivering. He doesn’t pause to take off your lingerie, knows better than to strip you of something that you’d put on so deliberately. He enjoys watching the confidence that it gives you.

“Oh, baby…” Tom murmurs, rolling his index and middle fingers over the front of your panties. They’re soaked, and as he presses up against your covered clit, he feels your centre pulse. The whimper you release is soft and broken, and Tom is quick to settle between your legs. He parts your thighs before kissing your mound, his nose nuzzling up against the wet warmth of your front. He tenses the tip of his tongue before dragging it over your covered folds, the slickness of your panties making it easy for him to delineate the rise of your bud.

“Shit,” you whine. You bury your hands in his hair and jerk him closer, pulling Tom’s face further into your heat. “Fuck, Tom. Don’t tease me— fuck. You’re supposed to be making it up to me.”

Tom moans in agreement. He manages to wriggle away just enough so he’s able to pull your panties to the side, and after taking a moment to run both thumbs down the side of your folds, he gently coaxes them apart, exposing your cunt. He curses, looking between your centre and your eyes with lust.

“You’re so fucked already,” he murmurs. He slips his fingers down to play around with your entrance, his digits getting coated in your slick. You whimper and thrust your hips until he crooks the two fingers into you, your walls giving way and enveloping him immediately. “Have you already cum tonight?”

Briefly, guilt flickers across your face. It fades as Tom leans down and sucks your clit into his mouth, soothing the bud with his tongue as his fingers start to pump into you. “Y-yeah,” you whimper, and suddenly it makes sense why you’re being so responsive.

“I can tell. Pussy’s so hot, baby, so wet… Practically gushing out over my hand, gorgeous.” Tom pulls away, shifting a thumb onto your bud as he looks down at where his fingers are opening you up. He adds a third easily, desire running hot through his body as you cry out loudly. “How many times did you cum?”

Your breathing is heavy, laborious. “Twice,” you admit. Your fingers fist the sheets, eyes fluttering shut as you arch your back and moan. “Shit, Tom… please.”

“Please?” He’s enjoying this, loves the way you squirm as he curls his fingers up and presses against your g-spot. You’re so beautiful. “Please what, lovie?”

“Make me cum,” you whine. You open your eyes again, wide and pleading. “Please, please—”

“C’mon,” he murmurs. “There you go, baby.” Tom thrusts his fingers faster, with more urgency, and speeds up the movement of his thumb on your clit. “Cum for me, darling. Let me warm you up… Let you feel really good. Always so pretty when you cum for me… so, so pretty, baby. Come on.”

You fall apart a few moments later, walls contracting around his fingers. Tom watches in awe as you cry out loudly, eyes rolling back as your chest rises and falls. He doesn’t stop, though, not even when your walls stop pulsing and your climax ends. Instead, he drops his head and puts his mouth back on your bud.

“T-Tom,” you cry out. You’re squirming again, properly now, but he knows you’d tap out if it was too much. Both of you know that you enjoy the blurring of the pain and pleasure as he overstimulates you like this. “Holy fuck… ‘m so sensitive.”

Tom’s hand is properly wet now. He can feel your arousal dripping between his fingers. You’re so slick his movements are imprecise, and so he counters that by thrusting his fingers harder, blundering up against the spongy rise of your walls until you’re crying out. As he brings you close again, he moves his mouth over your cunt, sloppily making out with your clit and your folds. Occasionally he’ll tease your rise with the bumps of his teeth, and he likes the way your moans change from shrill to intense when he runs the flat of his tongue over your bud again.

“Tommy,” you wail. You sound wrecked, and when Tom glances up, he sees you, eyes full of blurring tears, skin covered in a sheen of sweat. You gasp as he curls his fingers perfectly, and Tom watches you bury your face in your arm as you orgasm with a yell. This time, he has to move up, pressing his elbow into your thigh to keep you down as the pleasure consumes you. Your hot cunt squeezes his fingers tightly, an iron-like grip that almost immobilises his hand. Luckily, Tom’s used to you, knows how to continue to please you until you’re fucked out and crying.

Your peak stretches for a while, the air alight with the sounds of your whimpering enjoyment. Tom laps over your clit until you’re crying out and tugging at his hair, at which point he moves away from you. He smirks as he sees a trail of saliva connecting you to him, then sees the way your thighs tremble.

“How was that, darling?” Tom checks, letting his fingers slip from you. You whimper and he pulls up to you, gently kissing your cheek as his eyes skim you for any signs of damage. All he finds is bliss, then your lips on his as you peck him quickly.

“Fantastic,” you announce. You sigh as you fall back against the mattress, smiling lazily. “Fuck, I love you.”

Tom wipes his lips before kissing your nose. “Love you too,” he murmurs. “Did I make it up to you?”

Tom hums, and you watch as he scrolls through his photos, eyes focused. He looks very good today -- biceps pressing out against his black t-shirt, his Rolex glinting on his wrist. His hair lies naturally over his forehead too -- soft, brown, wavy. Your friend is very attractive, something you’ve always been aware of, but the time apart has made your feelings sharpen.

“Yeah, it’s bloody huge,” Tom muses. “Ah! Here you go, love.”

Tom carefully passes you his phone, and you swallow harshly when your fingers brush his and you feel sparks light off at his touch.

“Wow,” you exclaim, squinting as you admire the photo of the tower, soaring up into the sky. “You’re right. It is big.”

“Mmm. There’s more. You can scroll if you want.”

You start to flick through the photos, smiling as they change a little with each shot. Some of them are blurrier than others, and after a while they change as Tom moves from the ground below the monument, to climbing the staircase, then getting in the lift, then travelling to the top. You enjoy watching the story progress, seeing the shots of some of Tom’s friends, then a few selfies of Tom in sunglasses with a wide cityscape captured behind him, then--

You gasp softly as you scroll a little bit too far, and find yourself staring at a photo of Tom’s cock.

“Oh shit,” Tom mutters. You feel him go very still beside you. You’re sitting so close together that you can feel his thigh, warm to touch. “I… Forgot that was on there.”

You swallow dryly, suddenly feeling your pulse throbbing in your ears. You can’t stop looking at the photo, marvelling at the sight of Tom’s cock, red and erect, sitting in his hand. He’s clearly in a hotel room, and the lighting and the angle are very good, leaving little to the imagination. You bite your lip as you notice the way he has a strong vein curving down the side of his member, and find yourself squeezing your thighs together as you try, desperately, to snap out of it.

“It-it’s okay,” you mutter, voice hoarse. Your face feels hot with embarrassment, but you can’t deny the arousal coursing through your system too.

“There’s more,” Tom says, voice low. You can feel him looking at you, and there’s no doubt in your mind that your friend can tell, just from your reaction, that you like looking at his nudes. “You can look at them too, if you want.”

You tilt your head slowly, glancing at him, your eyes taking in his expression: cheeks slightly rosy, smirk on his lips, gaze pooled with lust. It makes you shiver.

“Okay.”

Tom moves closer, and you can feel his breath on your neck as his fingers slowly shift into your hair, moving it out of your face very delicately, gently. You swallow, your heart beating roughly in your chest as you continue to scroll, your eyes widening as you enjoy the different angles of his cock, each captured crisply by the camera. You feel yourself getting wet, partly from the photos, but also due to the way Tom’s so close. He dips his head down and your breath hitches as he ghosts his lips over your neck, kissing you so softly that it’s almost as if he isn’t there.

“There’s a video too,” he adds, husking into your ear. You moan softly when he sucks on the tender spot behind your jaw. “Watch it.”

You oblige, scrolling past more shots of his cock before arriving at the video. With slightly shaky fingers, you press the play button, biting your lip as you watch the short clip. The air fills with the sound of Tom’s groans, distant and buzzed with slight static, but still hearty enough to make you whimper. He’s kissing your neck with renewed strength, both hands wrapping around your middle, fingers caressing your sides as you stare at the phone. The sight of his arm veins flexing as he gets himself off makes you squirm, aroused not even beginning to cover how turned on you are.

The air is thick as the video ends, Tom cumming with a low cry, his seed shooting out over his hand as his upper stomach. You let the screen fall dark, your breathing heavy and unsteady as he stops kissing your neck.

“What do you think?” Tom asks, his accent hanging heavy in his voice. “Am I big enough for you, darling?”

You nod. With nervous hands, you put the phone down and turn to face him, feeling a surge of confidence as his hold on your waist guides you to sit in his lap. You straddle him, grunting as you feel his cock straining up against his grey sweats, and the pressure that it provides to your aching clit makes you whimper and repeat the action.

“Definitely big enough,” you mutter, looking at your friend closely. He seems to be just as aroused as you are, his hands guiding your movements as you slowly grind down against him.

“I was thinking about you,” Tom admits, “when I was filming the video. Thought about sending it to you, just to see if you’d like it.”

You bite your lip, realising that the attraction you feel towards Tom hasn’t been one-sided.

“Why didn’t you? I would’ve liked to see it.”

Tom’s eyes twinkle with arousal. “Wanted to do it in person, watch your face when you saw my cock.” One of his hands moves away from your waist, and he slips it between your legs. You’re so glad you’re wearing a skirt, because all you have to do is part your thighs and then he’s able to slip two slender fingers between your folds. Tom gives your clit a few teasing rubs before slipping his fingertips down to your entrance. You whimper when he slips them into your heat, meeting no resistance, and you moan loudly as he curls his fingers and starts to stroke up against your g-spot. “Fuck, darling. You’re soaked for me.” He leans in to peck your cheek, leaving his lips by your ear as he adds, “Do I turn you on?”

“Yes,” you whine immediately. Your moans grow louder as Tom continues to fuck your heat, his thumb shifting up to nudge against your clit. You reach up and grab at his shoulders, grinding down to meet his fingers every time they thrust up into you, feeling arcs of pleasure spiral out from your cunt with each movement. “You feel so good, Tom. Been dreaming about this for months.”

“Mmm, should’ve just said, love.” Tom’s back to nibbling at your neck. “Anything else you’ve thought about doing with me?”

As good as it feels to have his fingers working you open, you know there’s one thing on your mind.

“Yeah,” you admit breathlessly. You look him straight in the eye. “I want you to fuck me, Tom.”

He raises an eyebrow, smirk intensifying. “Oh, really?”

You hum. “Yeah. I want to ride you right here, right now. Feel how big your cock actually is.”

Tom swears, his fingers leaving your centre. “Okay,” he agrees, voice tight. “There’s a condom in my jacket, I’ll go-”

“I’ll get it,” you say instead. You kiss his cheek before standing from his lap, your legs a little shaky as you walk from the living room to the porch, thankful that you’re the only ones home. By the time you return to the lounge, Tom’s stripped off completely, sitting bare on the comfortable sofa with his hand around his cock. You toss him the condom as you take a few moments to pull off your tight shirt, your skirt, and your underwear, keeping your bra on before settling in his lap.

“You’re so hot,” Tom mutters, running his hands all over you. His touch against your bare skin feels electric, and you find yourself pushing into him as you enjoy feeling him map you out. “Bloody stunning.”

“Thank you,” you reply, almost a little bashful. You sit back and watch as Tom pumps his cock, hard and leaking precum, just like the video, before he rolls down the condom. Your eyes admire the lines of his abs, strong and defined, and the rest of him, equally attractive, and you feel your cunt clench as you imagine how good it’s going to feel to have him unravel you. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

With the condom on, Tom’s hands go back to your hips. He gently pulls you forward and you sit up, reaching down to guide his cock between your folds.

“Neither can I,” he admits, eyes trained between your legs. “Been thinking about- fuck- about your sweet little pussy for months, sweetheart, I--” He breaks off completely when you slide down onto him, your walls expanding to accommodate him. Your forehead falls to rest on his shoulder as you breathe deeply, moaning as he fills you up. “So good.”

“You’re so big, Tom,” you whimper. After leaving a moment to adjust, you sit back up and slowly start to ride him, taking your time as you get used to the fit of his body. You can’t stop yourself from whimpering, loudly, as his tip brushes up against your g-spot repeatedly, igniting a deep frenzy of sparks in the pit of your stomach. “Feels so fucking good inside me.”

Tom’s face is pulled tight with enjoyment, and you moan as you see his jaw clenching and the deep line of concentration furrowed between his brows. When he opens his eyes, you see nothing but appreciation and arousal webbed across the depths of his gaze.

“Love your pussy, Y/N,” he moans, cheeks flushing deeper. One of his hands stays on your hip, guiding you, and the other goes to touch your clit. He grins as he rubs your bud and feels you clench around him. “You like that, yeah? Like the way it feels for me to be inside you?”

“Yes, Tom,” you whisper.

“I know you do, I can feel how wet you are.” Tom’s watching you like you’re a spectacle, his words interspaced with small grunts as he lifts his hips to meet your movements. “So fucking snug for me, aren’t you, love? Your pussy feels so good... I’m not going to last long.”

“Neither am I,” you warn. You can already feel it building, building, building, and with each slap of skin on skin, coupled with the noise of your wet arousal getting fucked by his member, you get closer. “Fuck, Tom, ‘m gonna cum-”

“Do it,” he coaxes, his own voice strained. “Wanna watch you fall apart for me, love. Go on.” He rubs your clit a little faster. “I’ve got you.”

Tom’s grip on you is unwavering as you peak with a loud moan, your walls spasming around his cock as your orgasm sweeps across you in an intense wave of unyielding pleasure. You grip at his shoulders, shuddering as you continue to bounce on his length, not stopping until Tom climaxes as well. You feel his cock pulse as he finishes, his breathing coming out in low, grunting pants, and as the two of you ride it out together, his forehead falls to your shoulder.

“So good,” he whimpers, lazily kissing up your neck. You still in his lip, recovering your breath, and then both of Tom’s hands move to your face. He looks at you, eyes full of appreciation, and you find yourself smiling softly at him. “Can I kiss you?”

You giggle, nodding your head. “Seems like we’re doing this in a bit of a backwards order,” you point out.

Tom smiles before uniting your lips, his mouth feeling hot against yours. He’s still smiling when he pulls back, his eyes slightly nervous.

“We are,” he admits. “Would you like to come out on a date with me?”

You nod, your heart warming in your chest.

You bite back a smirk as you discreetly nod your head. “Thought you’d never ask.”

If your friends find it suspicious, they don’t say a thing. You’re quick to grab Tom’s hand and follow behind him as he strides across the bar, muttering out small apologies to everyone he bumps into in his haste. He sweeps you into a private bathroom before you have a second to think about the good luck of finding an unattended room, and he pushes you up against the door as he locks it with one hand.

Tom kisses you immediately, caging you in against the door as he groans into your mouth. One of his hands goes to your waist, the other reaching up to push into your hair. You sigh against his lips, the sound twisting louder as Tom deepens the kiss and slips his tongue into your mouth. You savour everything—the press of his figure to yours, the taste of his tongue as it slides over yours, the sounds of his panting breaths as he kisses you fervently. After a while, he moves closer, and you feel his cock pressing up against your form, straining through the thin material of his slacks.

“God, love,” he murmurs, voice husky. You tilt your head to the side, and his lips dance across your sensitive spot, suckling gently until you’re whimpering. “I can’t take this. I need you again.”

You chuckle as you reach up to play with his hair, your fingers messing up his silky brown strands. He’d gelled it back earlier, but he doesn’t seem to complain as you play around with it.

“Again?” you tease, biting your lip as you reach down to cup his hard length over his trousers. Tom whimpers, grunting as he thrusts his hips closer to you desperately. “We fucked before we came out?”

Tom grumbles. “We didn’t fuck,” he murmurs, nipping at your neck lightly. “We made love.”

You chuckle. “Oh, sorry,” you say. “We made love about two hours ago.”

“Mmm, and? My appetite for you is uncontrollable.” Tom pulls away from your neck, eyes dancing darkly. He slips a hand down, easily slipping it beneath the hem of your dress. “Are you trying to tell me I won’t find you soaked and needy for me if I have a look up here?”

Your breath hitches as Tom confidently rolls two fingers beneath the waistband of your panties, his smirk telling you all you need to know. You whimper as he immediately goes to your clit, rolling his fingertips over the bud as you shift against the door. When he curves them down and teases your entrance, you groan and push at his arm.

“Don’t tease me,” you say, voice low. You surge forward, pushing away from the door as you connect your lips with Tom’s. He smiles into it, hands falling tenderly to your waist as you walk him into the centre of the room, only stopping when you catch sight of the sink. “Fuck me on the sink,” you decide, speaking quickly. You support your quivering words with a nod. “Please, Tom.”

Tom takes control, pushing you back with his mouth as you continue to kiss until your back connects with the cool porcelain of the sink. His biceps bulge as he picks up one of your legs, wrapping it around his back and then bunching up your skirt and pulling it up.

“Against the sink?” he murmurs, pupils blown wide with lust. You reach out, making light work of his belt before pulling out his length. Neither of you shed your clothes entirely—the bathroom is dimly lit and a little unfriendly, and you’re both too eager to mess around with that. Instead, you pull off the precise amount of clothes necessary for Tom to be able to slide his cock through your exposed slit. “Fuck, love,” he coos, pressing his tip to your entrance. “I fucking love you.”

A gasp leaves your mouth as he slowly eases into you, bottoming out with a grunt. Your lips go back to his as you attempt to muffle your loud sounds of enjoyment as Tom’s cock fills you to the brim. Despite being fucked two hours prior, your walls hold him tightly, and you have to throw your head back to rest against the mirror as you take him.

“Oh my god,” you groan, the words twisting higher when Tom wraps an arm around your back and holds you to him. He starts to thrust quickly, his lips going back to your neck as he holds you up against the sink. “Feels so good.”

You glance down, moaning as you watch his cock disappear inside you. It’s a welcome sight—you’ve missed Tom immensely. You know you’ll savour every time you come together like this as if it could be your last. He’s just the same—sentimental and passionate. Tom groans into your ear, voice strained, “fuckin’ love this cunt, sweetheart. Doesn’t matter how much I fuck you, does it? Always so snug for me.”

You suck in a tight breath, his teasing words making you clench around him. “Shit, Tom.”

He chuckles against your neck, holding you tightly to him as he continues to thrust into you. “Darling?”

“Hm?”

“Turn around for me. I want you to see how beautiful you look right now.”

You smile as you do as instructed, only losing his presence for a moment as you spin around. You bend over, hands gripping the sides of the sink as Tom settles behind you, standing tall. He presses you against the sink, hand massaging your ass before he slips back into you, meeting your eyes through the mirror as he grunts. His eyes stay on you, his teeth digging into his red lower lip as he watches you, mouth pulling into an easy smile.

“Look at that,” he coos. “What a stunner. How lucky am I, eh?”

You look a mess in the reflection, your hair wild and your mouth open and panting. Yet, there’s something almost poetic about the way Tom grips you, every ounce of his attention placed solely on your form. You watch the way your body shifts every time he thrusts into you, hear the sounds of skin-on-skin as they match the movements. His face is flushed, his cheeks a dark red and his jaw tensed. Fly away hairs drift over his forehead, and his nostrils are flared.

“I’m lucky,” you reply, whimpering softly as he readjusts and the tip of his cock brushes up against your g-spot. You pry a hand from the sink and reach between your legs, jerkily stroking your bud. You’re close already, your slit slick and your breath laboured. Never in your life have you been with someone who knows your body so well, but that’s the perks of being with a lover as attentive as Tom. He loves making you feel good more than he cares for his own pleasure.

“Nah, I’m luckier.” Tom’s hands shift to your hips and he pulls you back to meet his thrusts. Your eyes roll back as pleasure rocks through you with every slam. “Look at this, hmm? I want you to keep watching us. Can you do that for me, darling? Even when you cum?” His voice is soft and suggestive, but you feel the harder undertones.

“Yeah,” you murmur, forcing yourself to meet his gaze through the mirror. You lick your lips as you see him, towering above you, railing you into the sink. The ceramic digs into your front, but the ache only makes everything feel sharper. “Tom,” you whine, breath catching, “I’m not gonna last.”

“Neither will I,” he admits. You look up, watching the veins in his neck stand out against his flushed skin. “Go on,” he urges. “Pretty girl. Lovely girl.” He’s speaking in puffed sentences, on the verge. “Cum for me, babe. Want to watch you lose it on this sink.”

You spiral with him, pressing your clit and feeling your high sweep over you as Tom thrusts into you. He’s pulsing too a few moments later, spilling his seed into you with a low yelp as his hot fingers pull at your dress. Both of you moan, your sounds mixing together as your breath fogs up the lower part of the mirror.

Tom bends over, scooping your hair to the side and kissing your neck. He’s near now, image lingering close in the mirror, eyes softer and pooled with love. His body is warm, and his front soothes your back as he moves closer and kisses your cheek.

“Love you,” he murmurs, voice soft. Both of you release soft groans as his cock slips from inside you, and he kisses your cheek again calmingly.

You tilt your head to the side, standing up a little straighter until you’re able to kiss his lips. Tom’s mouth is as warm as ever.

“Love you too, handsome,” you respond, voice gentle. “You’re insatiable.”

warnings ↠ sir/good girl kink, dom!tom, brat taming, degradation (slut shaming), choking, spitting, pussy + face slapping, a gnarly battle for dominance ft fingering and face-fucking. i missed writing dom!tom. god.

*:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧ *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧ *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧

You don’t challenge Tom often, but when you do, there’s no point holding back. He’ll be firm with you no matter how far you take it, so you may as well push the limits as far as possible. You like the punishment that follows, crave the degradation and the battle for dominance that ensues.

You aren’t scared to fuck with him, which is why you manage to get yourself into this position: Tom, pressed against the bedroom wall, your figure boxing him in. You have your hands resting on his shoulders, firm fingertips keeping him there, even when he tries to passively shove you off.

“Now, what do we have here?” Tom asks, voice smooth and entirely too innocuous considering you’ve just slammed him up against the wall. He remains completely unbothered, blinking at you blankly, eyes only showing the smallest amount of intrigue.

You hum. “I’m in charge today,” you decide, but your words don’t come out as strongly as you’d intended. It’s almost as if your body knows exactly how the night is going to go. “I’m going to dom you.”

Tom laughs. His face splits with amusement as he looks you up and down sceptically. “Yeah, okay,” he says. “I’d like to see you try, darling.”

Scowling, you square up. “I can dom you,” you tell him. You move one of your hands from his shoulder and teasingly draw it up to twirl around the base of his neck. As you try out a variety of pressures against Tom’s throat, his interest increases. He starts looking at you with a little more interest, his eyebrows pulling together as he watches you experiment. You get the feeling that he’s just biding his time, waiting to see what you’ll do, but you use it for your advantage.

“You’ve never once given any indication that you’d want to try and dom me,” Tom says. He looks you up and down before laughing again. “You’re lying to get a rise out of me.”

You narrow your eyes. “Am not,” you lie, despite him being completely right. You don’t want to dom him—you want to make him snap. Pursuing this goal, you don’t hesitate to bring your fingers away from his throat and run your fingertips over the ghost of his mouth, pressing your thumb against his lower lip. “Open,” you say, taking Tom’s favourite command and turning it on him.

“I don’t think you want to do what you’re trying to do,” Tom warns. “You’re not going to like what I do to you if you keep this up.”

You jut out your chin and tap his lower lip again. “Open,” you repeat.

Tom complies, but only after another mirthless laugh. It’s almost scary how cool he is, how calculated. There’s no hint of insecurity as he opens his mouth, and it’s clear that it doesn’t matter the positioning—he’s in control, and you’re not.

That isn’t going to stop you from pushing him to the very edge, though. You stand closer, meeting his eyes teasingly before sucking the moisture to the front of your mouth and spitting into Tom’s open mouth. Your spittle lands on his tongue, and you step back, moving very slowly as if around an animal that risks pouncing.

A moment passes, the air between you frozen, thick with tension. Tom shifts, sighing for only a second before he overpowers you. Acting swiftly, precisely, he pushes off from the wall, commanding enough force to slip free from your grip. You huff as he pushes you against the wall instead, so forcefully that you feel an ache in your back. Before you have time to question him, his hand is on your throat. Tom growls, pressing the length between his index and thumb up against your neck, choking you lightly as his other hand goes to your mouth.

He doesn’t need to say anything. His lips are pursed, energy rippling his eyes until they’re almost black. He hasn’t spoken since you managed to spit in his mouth, and you realise there’s a purpose behind that. Tom yanks your mouth open, pressing his thumb harshly against your tongue until you’re wide enough for him to step in closer. He grunts before spitting into your mouth, the pressure leaving your throat as you feel the mix of his and your saliva, hot against your tongue, rolling back towards your throat.

“Brat,” he spits. He cups your chin and holds your mouth shut, staring at you, unmoving, until you swallow. Tom looks entirely too composed. Whilst you’re panting, your face warm, he seems unaffected. His hair is still gelled, his cheeks pale, and his eyes dark. It makes you shudder. “Why are you being so needy?” Tom tilts his head to the side. “You want attention, hm? My needy little brat, trying to act tough so I’ll put her in her place?”

You whimper. Tom laughs coolly, then leans closer. You think he’s going to kiss you, but instead, he licks over your mouth, denying you what you want as he brands you with his spit instead. He’s messy, hand returning to wrap around your throat. As he pushes you back against the wall, his other hand moves down, shoving between your legs until he’s able to cup your heat. You’re in a skirt without panties, meaning there’s no hesitation in his actions. Tom’s able to touch your bare pussy, his fingers cold as they trail through your slit.

“Fucking hell,” he adds, glancing up at you. “You’re so wet.” To prove his point, Tom curves two fingers into your heat, your walls giving way after a few pumps. The feeling of his slender digits rubbing up against your sensitive spots makes you cry out, your eyes fluttering shut. “Such a pathetic little slut, hm? Getting off on being a brat with my hand around your neck? Fucking hell…”

You try to speak, only for the words to come out slurred and incoherent. It’s hard to focus with Tom’s fingers pistoning into your heat, your walls clamping down around the stretch of his hand as his thumb twists up to play with your clit.

“Yeah, that’s right,” he mutters. Tom pauses, leaning up to briefly kiss your cheek before his hand slips from inside your heat. He doesn’t pull away, though. Tom brings his hand down over the front of your cunt, slapping over your clit once, twice, thrice, the jolting stings making you cry out. He doesn’t stop until you’re squirming, your folds hot and pulsing, entrance weeping arousal and pulsing around nothing. “Get on the floor, brat.”

Tom pushes you down, but his touch is gentle. When you’re on your knees, his hand stays on your cheek, fingertips rolling across your cheekbone, encouraging your actions as you undo his belt and pop his top button reflexively.

“There’s a good girl,” he mutters. “Knew you didn’t want control.” Tom pulls away from you and pushes down his jeans and boxers all at once, leaving you with the sight of his cock, flushed and erect. He holds his length in his hand, skimming his thumb across the beads of precum that pool at his tip before smearing it across your lips. “Say thank you,” he adds, huffing a sigh. “You haven’t forgotten your manners, have you?”

“Thank you, sir,” you whimper. His precum seeps across your tongue, and you feel ravenous. “Please let me suck your cock,” you add, opening your mouth wide for him. Tom’s fingers slip into your mouth, and he coaxes your tongue out, leaning over and eyeing you carefully before spitting again, his spit landing on the tip of your tongue.

“I’ll fuck your throat until it’s raw,” he promises. Tom steps forward, guiding his cock to your mouth. He runs it over your tongue, the heavy, warm weight making you moan. Again, he pauses, cupping your cheek gently. “Touch my thigh if you want to tap out,” he adds. He doesn’t do another thing until you nod, reassuring him that it’s okay, that this is what you want, that you trust him. Tom hums, then he jerks his hips and pushes his cock into your mouth.

He fucks your mouth hard, relentlessly, his bulbous tip pressing against the back of your throat with no warning. Tom doesn’t give you time to adjust, not even as you struggle to fight your gag reflex. As your eyes well with tears, he holds the back of your skull tightly, keeping you as still and compliant as possible as the hot beads of water start to spill down your cheeks.

“Such...a good...brat,” he groans. You moan around him, feeling the stretch of his length aching your lips. “Take it, there’s a good girl…

His cock is so big, so heavy on your tongue. It takes everything in you to keep your fingers away from your cunt, but you know better than to cross that line. If the hunger behind his actions tells you anything, it’s that he’s pissed, and you don’t want to push him. Not too far. Not when Tom’s entire aura is one of steeled dominance.

“Shit, darling… Such a hot little mouth. ‘M gonna cum.” You look up at him, admiring the red flush to Tom’s face and the tensing of his jaw. He groans as he sees you, choking and crying around his cock, sounds of obscenities electric in the air. “Shit, shit. You’re going to swallow it, yeah? Needy cockslut. I know you fucking live for this.” He gently slaps your face before roughly pushing his fingers into your hair. “Greedy girl.”

You moan around him, and it’s the final straw. Tom peaks with a yell of your name, his hips pushing deep against you until your nose nudges up against the curls of his pubic hair. His seed shoots down your throat, spilling warm against your tongue, and you do your best to swallow, continuing to keep your mouth soft and pliant under he’s satisfied.

Tom pulls away after a few moments, opening his eyes to look at you as he pants. His hair is messier, cheeks stained a dark red, a blissed expression dominating his face. He’s quick to help you to your feet, and your wince at the pain in your knees fades as he kisses your lips softly.

“Good girl,” he mutters. “Good brat.”

You bite your lip, standing back and looking at him. “Can I cum now?” you ask.

Not for the first time this evening, Tom laughs at you. You feel your expression fall, and it only seems to spur him on further. He smirks before kissing the tip of your nose again, both of his hands moving to hold your waist.

smut warnings ↠ semi-public sex, shower sex, hair pulling (ft brief pain kink), fingering, unprotected sex, cumshot.

——————

“Another five, darling. There you go. Keep going.”

Sweat prickles along your hairline, your face pulsing with hot blood. With each burpee, you feel your heartbeat quicken and your body get more tired, but you aren’t about to give up. Not with Tom, your boyfriend, poised in front of you, jumping up and down in sync with you.

He’s ridiculously attractive, even when he’s bossing you around in the gym. It’s been the cause of a few teasing comments from him already, as he’s caught you out taking breaks to ogle him. In your defence, it’d be hard not to look. 

Tom is in a pair of shorts and a tight black tank top, his biceps out and flexing every time he swings his arms around. His hair lies over his head in messy heaps, and his cheeks lie flushed with a healthy glow. Adrenaline looks good on Tom, and you can’t even be annoyed that he’s pushing you to go further because it’s so attractive coming from him.

“Fuck yeah,” he says finally. “We’re done.”

You finish your set and release a sound of relief, sagging forward and falling into his embrace. Tom laughs, his chest heaving as he holds you in a loose, sweaty hug. His neck is hot with perspiration, but you don’t hesitate to curl closer, savouring the brief moment of respite in his arms.

“You’re so mean,” you whine. You finally fall back, just to bend over and grab your water bottle from the spot on the mat. You take a few deep swallows of cool water before Tom grabs the bottle from your hands and shoves it past his own lips. “I’m so tired.”

Tom hums, jaw tensing as he swallows down mouthfuls of the water. “You’ll feel good, though. All those positive endorphins,” he says, grinning slyly. “I want to do some weights before we go, but I think that’s enough cardio for today.”

You make a loud sound of agreement. “Definitely,” you agree. You wave your hand at the exercise mats. “I’ll just do some stretches and wait for you.”

He nods and darts forwards to kiss your cheek before letting you go. “Okay, love,” he says. “I’ll just be over there.”

The gym is fairly empty this morning, and you’re able to find a spot on the edge of the exercise mats without much trouble. As you sit down on the squashy sprung mat, you pull your arms above your head and start to stretch out your shoulders. The weights station is directly opposite the mat zone, so you’re able to watch Tom as he browses the weights trolley before picking off a large dumbbell. 

You find yourself biting your lower lip as you watch him sit on the edge of a bench and start to pump it. Tom spots you staring, and you watch him smirk. He wiggles his brows before sitting up a little straighter to flex his muscles with more vigour. If you weren’t in public, you’d growl, the sight of his pulsing arms, flushed face and ripped figure making a hot flush travels out from your centre. As Tom licks his lips and intensifies his smirk, you find yourself shivering.

Two can play at this game.

You stand from the mat, biting your lip as a devious thought tickles you. Meeting his eyes, you raise a brow in question before turning around and facing the wall. You can feel Tom’s gaze on your figure, burning intently as you start to do some squats. The exercise is his weakness, especially when you do it, and you’re cruel for exploiting that information, but you find yourself smirking as you continue to drop low, arching your back and taking your time. 

To any casual observer, it’d just look like you’re very attentively exercising, but to Tom, you know you’re driving him mad.

There are mirrors set into the wall, and you watch as Tom abandons his exercise in favour of sitting there to watch you, jaw tensing. You meet his gaze through the reflection and flash a teasing smile, only for it to melt into fulfilment as you watch Tom mutter something to himself then stand up quickly. He hurries to put away the weight before picking up his phone and stalks towards you, his lean figure stacked with sweaty muscles.

He lingers behind you for a moment, eyes taking you in as you do a few low squats. Through the mirror, you can see his nostrils flare, his eyes shifting dark and heady. When you finish your set, you straighten up before stepping back a few paces to press your back against Tom’s front. He mutters a low, “fuck,” and you feel his member, quickly hardening as his crotch rubs against your ass.

“Darling,” Tom mutters, scooping your hair out of the way until he’s able to kiss your neck. Your skin is hot and sweaty, but he doesn’t hesitate to nibble up and down the side of your throat. “‘M so hard right now.”

You shiver as he laps over the sensitive skin of your neck. “Do you want to go home?”

Tom grumbles into your ear. “I can’t wait that long,” he complains, voice low and accented. “You look so hot, love. I’ve got a stiffy.”

Biting your lip, you turn around and take his hand. “Well,” you tease, “have you got anything in mind?”

He nods his head. “Yep,” Tom says. “Follow me.”

Tom takes you down to the unisex changing room, and you catch onto his idea as he points at some of the large shower cubicles. They’re each caged in with frosted glass, and like the gym had been, the room is unusually empty. There are a few people milling around, but no one else is in the shower room.

You bite your lip as you look at him. “Really?” you ask, but you’re already pulling off your shirt. Tom stands across the bench from you, similarly jerking off his tank top.

His eyes sparkle. “Fuck yeah,” he growls. “Did I tell you how hot you look in those leggings?”

After a little bit of negotiating with your clothes, the towels and the lockers, Tom pulls you into the shower cubicle. He turns on the water before pushing you up against the wall, caging you in with an arm planted on either side of your head as his lips find yours. You’re both naked now, your clothes discarded back in the locker, and you have to bite back a loud moan when you feel Tom’s hard cock slide to rest between the soft flesh of your thighs.

“Shhhh,” he murmurs, speaking into your ear. Tom pulls one arm away from your head and snakes his hand between your legs. He smirks as his index finger slips between your folds, rolling over your clit before shifting down to tease your entrance. You’re already wet, your body hot and aching from the time spend watching him work out upstairs, and you feel your hole pulsing and spasming against his finger as he curls it into your heat. “Anyone could walk in, baby... you’ll need to be really quiet.”

“Okay,” you manage. Your head falls back against the cool tiles of the back wall as you part your legs, allowing Tom to feed two of his fingers into your pulsing cunt. His lips close over your neck as he works you open, cock still brushing up against your thighs. You have to swallow a moan when he adds his thumb to your clit. “Shit,” you whine.

You reach up and run your hands over his shoulders, momentarily getting distracted by the muscles on his form. Tom’s been working out consistently for the past six months, and the evidence can be found in the definition of his shoulders and biceps. His muscles are so firm, and as you appreciate his strength with your hands, you feel yourself clench around his digits.

Tom smirks, leaning up to nose at your cheek. “Are you okay there, lovie? You seem a little distracted.”

You scrunch the tip of your nose as you twist a hand into Tom’s hair. His strands are saturated with droplets from the shower, and he’s still grinning as you bring him closer to kiss him.

“Fuck me,” you mutter against his lips. You gasp softly as he curves his fingers up towards your stomach, the tips of his slender digits caressing your g-spot until you whimper. You feel so slick, the space between your thighs coated with your arousal. “Do it hard. From behind.”

Tom licks his lips. He captures your mouth in a final kiss as he pulls away from you. An annoyed whimper slips from your lips as your cunt throbs emptily, but your mood is soon to pick up as he turns you in his arms. With his back pressed to yours, you can feel Tom’s erect cock, standing proud against your lower spine.

“You’ll let me hit it from the back?” he mutters, nipping at your neck. Tom’s large hands swoop around to cup your breasts, his fingers toying with your nipples as you gasp.

“Yeah,” you say. You bend over, reaching out to hold onto the metal control taps of the shower as you spread your legs and arch your back. You look back over your shoulder, eyes darkening as you watch Tom situate himself behind you, pumping his flushed cock in his hand as his jaw tenses. He curses as he meets your eyes. “Hard and fast,” you request. “Please.” You’re buzzing from the endorphins from your workout, and you find yourself craving your boyfriend’s firm touch.

Tom nods his head. A focused expression finds his face as he steps closer, resting one hand on your ass as the other stays wrapped around his length. You bite back a soft moan as he slides his tip between your folds, teasing your clit for a second before guiding his bulging crown up to your entrance.

“Are you ready?” he asks, voice barely audible above the stream of water pounding down beside you.

You bite your lower lip. “Fuck yeah,” you mutter. “Give it to me.”

Tom slips into you with ease, and your eyes drop shut as your head falls forward.

“Oh god yeah,” Tom mutters, burying himself deep within your heat. You bite your lower lip to muffle your cries as his thick cock presses your walls apart. “You’re so tight, darling. Oh fuck. Cunt feels like fucking paradise… Always so snug around me, isn’t it?”

You’re glad for the loud stream of water and the garish pop tunes that stream through the air because the noises of skin slapping against skin are audible to you. Your fingers wrap around the cool metal of the shower controls as you cling for dear life, your breathing laboured as Tom thrusts into you like a demon. As he shifts both hands down to grasp at your hips, the engorged head of his cock brushes up against your g-spot. Your back arches when he hits against your spongy back wall, causing your heat to tighten.

“Oh fuck,” Tom murmurs from behind you, his voice sharp and breathless. He squeezes your waist as he continues to pull you back to meet him, each rut of his hips against yours propelling him deeper. After a while, he shifts one hand away, hot fingertips dancing up your spine before burying into your hair. As Tom tugs on your strands, the ache in your skull makes you whimper. “Touch your clit, darling,” he asks, keeping his voice quiet.

When he releases your hair, you follow his instructions blindly, unable to think of anything beyond how good it feels to get railed like this. It’s clear that both of you are riding on the highs of your workout, Tom’s pace brutal as he spends all his leftover energy on you. You’re willing to take it, your greedy cunt revelling in the bruising pace he’s set and basking in the glow of his length stretching you out so well. 

Mixing in with the sounds of water thrumming against the tiled floor comes the sound of your puckering heat, clinging to his cock each time he buries himself in you. Quiet expletives tumble from your lips as you get to the edge, unable to vocalise your enjoyment but instead falling into the rhythm of pushing back against Tom every time he snaps his hips. With the way his fingers grow needier, holding at your hips with a slippery grip that only grows messier, you can tell he’s just as close as you. 

It doesn’t surprise you at all when Tom suddenly gasps, then you feel his cock start to throb inside you as his rhythm falters. The sensation of him shooting his seed into your desperate heat makes you spiral over the edge. You grip the bar of the shower tighter as you bite into the top of your arm to muffle your moans.

Tom slowly evens out his pace, continuing to fuck into you until you stand up a little straighter. He runs his hands over your ass and waist before stepping back, the discomfort of him pulling out quickly smoothed away when he gently coaxes you up and into his arms.

“So good, darling,” he whispers, holding you to his chest. His lips come down over the side of your face as his hands play with your wet hair. When you shiver, Tom walks both of you back, helping you into the stream of warm water. “You always do so well for me. Best girl, aren’t you? My best girl.”

He’s cooing and gentle, holding you with love in his arms and tenderness shining in his gaze. When you’re more stable, you pull away from his chest, feeling beads of his cum dripping down your inner thighs as you lean up to steal a kiss from his lips.

“Love you,” you mumble, folding into his arms.

Tom’s hands gently caress your spine, and you can feel him smile against your lips. He squeezes your ass with the palms of his hands before releasing you.

“Love you too,” he says. He reaches behind you and pumps the soap dispenser, lips brushing the top of your nose as he runs the lathering liquid over your wet form. “I’ll clean you up now,” he promises.

You bite your lip as you look up at him, blinking innocently. “You made a mess,” you say, thinking about your pussy, still clenching around droplets of his seed.

Tom arches a brow, eyes momentarily dipping down to your legs. A shadow of a smirk crosses his lips a moment later, then he’s pressing them back against your ear.

extended warnings ↠ slight dom!tom + praise kink, thigh riding. tom holland’s thighs, because they deserve a warning of their own.

*:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧ *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧ *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧

You’re bored.

Tom’s house out in Atlanta is huge, and when he’s not stowed away in the office doing online press, there’s never normally a dull moment. You usually find some way to entertain yourself, be that pestering your boyfriend for attention or filling your time with work. Just, it’s a Saturday, and you have nothing to do, and Tom’s been away all day.  

After spending the morning catching up with friends and refreshing social media until you have the spinning reload sign flashing behind your eyes, you resort to texting Tom. Down in the office—or the press room, as he’s come to call it—his phone is on silent, so you don’t need to worry about interrupting something. He’s been trading selfies with you all day, providing small snapshots of his socks, his hair, his setup whenever he catches a break. The little teases have only made your yearning worse.

Y/N: when do you finish? Y/N: I’m bored and I miss you :(

You lay back on your bed as you wait on a response, chewing your lip slightly as your hands play with the sheets. Your expression darkens as you look to the side, seeing the throw pillows discarded on the floor and remembering intimate times gone by.

You’ve been in a mood all day, the space between your legs warm. Every time you get bored, your mind wanders, and you’ve been very bored today. The front of your panties feels damp, your body tortured by the memories of last night. It’s a never-ending montage of Tom’s hair brushing your neck, his lips on your breasts, his greedy hands grabbing at your waist. You almost moan as you remember how he’d held you down last night and made love to you until you’d cried, your skin slick with sweat and your mind gone too. He never fails to bring you to the heights of pleasure you’d never thought existed.

Tom: on a break just now if you want to come down Tom: think there’s ten minutes before the next one x

It doesn’t take long for you to get to the office, your feet moving of their own accord. When you open the door, Tom glances back, and you feel your breath catch in the back of your throat.

He looks good. Tom is handsome, and you always enjoy looking at him, but with his torso covered in a tight black shirt and blazer and his hair styled in loose waves on the top of his head, he looks incredibly dashing. He flashes you a mischievous smile as he reaches up to pull the AirPods from his ears, his Rolex glinting beneath the bright studio lights that illuminate his setup.

“Afternoon, darling,” he says. He turns in the chair, swinging an arm over the back of it as he watches you enter the room, closing the door behind you. “How are you?”

You bite your lip, shameless eyes skating over his form. Tom stands to greet you, and your eyes widen, falling to his bare legs. “Why are you half-naked?” you ask, the tip of your nose scrunching up as you chuckle. You meet him in the centre of the room, wrapping your arms around his warm torso before pulling him in for a light hug, being mindful of his pressed suit.

“Comfier,” he explains. “Too hot in all of that. Gets fucking boiling in here.” Tom’s hands smooth up to your hair, and he gently coaxes you from his chest, peering down at you with those brown eyes you love so much. “Gimme a kiss, lovie.”

Eager to feel him, you step closer and lean in, finding his lips in an easy kiss. The moment your mouth makes contact with the soft warmth of Tom’s pillowy lips, you feel yourself melt, the heat coming back to your core almost immediately. You reach up and drape your arms around his neck, getting in as close as you can as you part your lips, licking over his lower lip until he takes the bait and easily slips his tongue into your mouth.

Tom grunts when you play with the back of his hair, tugging on his strands as your tongues glide together. His hands are on your waist, and you find yourself moaning into his mouth when he slips his fingers beneath your shirt and lets them roam all over your figure. As he kisses you, his hands shift up your torso, lingering at your breasts and groping them eagerly.

“No bra?” he moans against you. You whimper as he brushes his thumbs over your nipples, making him chuckle. “Fuck, love,” he murmurs, “eager today, aren’t you?”

You pull away from him, panting for breath. “Yeah,” you admit, not even trying to be coy about it. Time is of the essence, and you know exactly what you want. One of Tom’s warm hands skates down your figure, and your abdomen flexes as his fingers trail over your skin, his blunt fingernails lightly tickling your stomach as he travels to your cunt. “Tom,” you say, voice catching. “Please.”

He’s teasing you, eyes on your face as he slides his hand beneath your shorts and teases his fingers over the front of your panties. With a torturously light touch, he rolls his index finger over the front of your slit.

“God,” he murmurs, leaning in to roughly kiss your jaw. “You’re soaked.”

Your eyes threaten to roll back as he rubs you over the cotton, touch light but enough to bring you the smallest amount of pleasure. You grab at his firm bicep, a choked whine travelling up your throat.

“Tom.”

“Mmm? What do you want, darling? You know we don’t have much time.” Tom’s got a dark glint in his eyes, and it only deepens when he finally shifts your panties to the side and lets his fingers envelop your silky folds. You gasp when he dips his index and middle fingers down to your entrance, pushing into the warmth of your arousal before spreading it up to your bud. He’s quick to tease your clit, cooing softly as you struggle to speak. “Use your words, gorgeous girl. I want to give you what you want, but I can’t do that if you don’t tell me what that is.”

“Fuck me,” you ask, voice catching as he speeds up his circles.

“No time, darling.” Tom frowns when he sees you pout, and with the hand not between your legs, he reaches up to play with your lower lip. After a moment’s contemplation, he slips his fingers into your mouth. You suck them in further, glad for their heavy presence weighing down your tongue and enjoying how their girth muffles your moans. “I have an idea. C’mere.”

Before you have time to complain, Tom has pulled away from you, leaving your aching cunt alone and your mouth empty. He walks to the green sofa in the back of the room and collapses onto it with ease, smirking up at you as he parts his legs. He looks wide and domineering, spread out, awaiting you, with his bare thighs rippling and on display. His muscles are clear and defined, packed tight in firm ridges against his golden skin. Just the sight of him patting one of them with his hand is enough to make you salivate.

“Ride it,” he encourages, beckoning you forth with a smirk. He tilts his watch towards his face, squinting as he stares at the metal. “You have three minutes to cum, or you’ll need to wait. I won’t be finished for another two hours.”

Eyes widening, you move over to him, pausing in front of your boyfriend to push down your shorts and your panties. Tom reaches out for you, his warm palms sinking into the curves of your hips as he helps you into his lap. He sits up against the sofa, reaching down to grab at your shirt as you work on straddling his thigh. You settle over his left leg, a loud moan trembling up your throat as you lower yourself and your slit presses against the firmness of his skin.

“Oh,” you moan, tossing your head back. Tom pulls your shirt over your head, his face dropping down until he’s able to suck one of your nipples into his mouth. You cry out as you slowly grind down against his leg, his skin quickly getting coated in the arousal that covers your slit. Each time he nibbles your nipple, he follows up the action with a warm lap of his tongue, and the noises you elicit rise in pitch.

“Pretty girl,” Tom murmurs, leaving your chest and replacing his mouth with a hand. The other goes to your hip, and he helps you swirl your hips a little faster, his eyes almost black. “Look so fucking hot getting off on my leg, darling. So needy.” His accent is prominent as he watches you, smirking. “You’re my needy little thing, aren’t you?”

You fall forwards, panting into his neck as your forehead rests on his shoulder. Tom’s lips kiss the top of your head, grounding you as the pleasure starts to build. There’s an indescribable warmth spreading across your core, stemming from where your clit rubs up against his muscular thigh. The pleasurable burn of the friction makes you whimper.

“Yeah,” you pant, after taking a few moments to muster your breath. You gasp when Tom tenses his leg, his muscular thigh pressing up against you. “Fuck,” you whimper. “Feels so good, Tom. You’re so strong.”

He’s rolling both hands over your hips now, and one of them slips up to trace across your bare back. He holds you tightly to his chest, even as your breathing becomes irregular, continuing to guide your movements as you grow uneven. You can feel your orgasm twisting in the pit of your stomach, feel the temperature of your blood rising as it builds between your legs. With each grind of your wet cunt against his thigh, the pressure builds, every part of you aching for release.

“My darling girl,” Tom murmurs. “Are you going to make a mess all over my leg?” When you release a clouded moan, he chuckles. “I know you are. It’s okay. I can feel you squirming, baby. I know you can’t wait.” He drops his voice, rasping into your ear as you shake in his lap. “Go on, love. Be a good girl and let go. Get my thigh all wet. There you go.”

Your jaw slackens, and his words push you over the edge. You squirm over Tom’s sturdy thigh, glad for his strong hands on your hips as they guide your movements when you get lost in the pleasure. Your moans intersperse with his name, and you collapse against him as your high rolls across you, flooding you with intense, pulsing pleasure.

“There you go,” he murmurs, kissing over the side of your face until you eventually pry yourself away from him. Tom smiles at you, dragging his lips across your cheek to find your lips. It’s a sweeter kiss, and you pour in your gratitude. “Sweet girl.”

Your lips twitch into a smile as you look up at him, appreciating the lines of his handsome face and the adoration that sparkles in his eyes.

“Thank you,” you say. “I—”

Both of you startle as a ringing sound cuts through the air, and you turn around to see the computer on the desk lighting up with an incoming call.

“Oh, fuck,” Tom mutters. He kisses you, briefly but with intention, then stumbles to his feet. “How do I look?”

You follow him to your feet, quickly pulling on your clothes before walking to him. “Perfect,” you say, once you’ve adjusted the collar of his suit jacket. You press a soft kiss to his cheek. “Good luck, handsome.”

warnings: unprotected mxf sex, public sex, sex tape (...? kinda. you’ll see lmao)

-----

When the director had asked for a convincing performance, you’re sure they hadn’t envisioned this:

You and Tom, tangled up in the sheets, cameras whirring around the two of you as you actually have sex. 

He’s lodged in you deep, your fingers clasped together above your head, held there by one of his strong hands. Tom’s other arm is beside your head, supporting his weight as he comes down on you, again and again, thrusting quickly and with purpose. Strands of his messy hair stick to your skin, hot from exertion, and you’re moaning loudly. 

“So good for me,” he says, enunciating clearly. His voice is tilted with an American accent. “So responsive, baby.”

You throw your head back, as scripted, but you’re glad for the release. You can feel a climax tickling your lower stomach, slowly being coaxed to the surface, and whilst you’d normally be all for it, the circumstances just now are different. Usually, when you’re getting fucked into the mattress by your doting boyfriend, it’s on your terms. Today you just so happen to be on-set, filming a sex scene in character, surrounded by cameras and stage lights. It’s a closed-set, so there aren’t many people around, but they’re still there, and if you were to cast your eyes away from Tom, you’d see them, watching you. 

It was his idea, the cheeky fucker. You’ve already run through the scene five times, and in the break between the fourth and fifth, Tom had whispered a few dirty words that’d made you aroused beyond reproach:

“Should we do it for real? Hmm? They’re not going to know, darling… Can just be our little secret.”

He’d sealed the deal with a kiss, and then you’d both discreetly ditched the underwear you’d been dry humping in. Before the cameras had started rolling, he’d opened you up with a few fingers, and by the time the director had yelled Action!, Tom was in you, for real. And it’s filthy.

The fact that you could both be caught at any moment sets you on edge in the best way possible. You know logically that there’s no way anyone could know - there’s at least two layers of sheets and several metres between you and the crew - but that doesn’t stop you from imagining it - especially when Tom drops his voice down low and whispers into your ear,

“Such an eager little thing, aren’t you? Letting me fuck you in front of all of these people.”

You bite back a moan, gnawing over your lower lip as you shift on the bed, back threatening to arch. Thankfully your line follows your inner dialogue, and you rasp out a loud, concise, “No one fucks me like you.” 

Tom chuckles, and his hand presses your fingers further into the bed. Your entire body is on fire, covered in a hot slick of sweat that only comes after several long, intense minutes of feeling him in you. You can’t imagine what it’s like for Tom. He’s been slightly more erratic in his thrusts for ages now, gritting his teeth, face flushed, and you know him well enough to recognise the changes in his pace indicate he’s repeatedly been edging closer and closer. The idea of him cumming into you - shooting his shot and painting your walls white on film makes you cling to him harder.

“Perfect, you two. Let’s just run through the climax one final time,” calls the director.

Tom stops rocking into you, stilling with his cock lodged deep inside your passage. You whimper as he alters the position, compliant with the script. He releases your hands, and you eagerly bring them down to wrap around his chest. 

“Can’t fucking wait to cum in you,” he mutters, voice low and raspy. His eyes are blown wide, wild and intense, raging with arousal. Tom strokes a few fingers over your cheek, still whispering so the microphone above you doesn’t pick up the words. “Cunt’s feeling so fucking snug around me, love.”

You shiver, and you feel your walls clench around him. 

“Action!” 

He’s a man on a mission, Tom’s grip on your face becoming slippery as he urges you towards the finishing line. He’d been teasing you between scenes - rolling his fingers over your clit, rubbing you to edge after edge - and that’s wound you up to the point where you’re on the verge of climax, just from his length thrusting into you, his pelvis rubbing briefly against your bud. The contact is light, but it’s enough.

You can’t remember your lines, but you can vaguely grasp at the tone, and decide to roll with it. 

“Fill me up,” you whine. Your eyes are shut, and you can feel him everywhere, the tip of his flushed cock hard against your g-spot, his shaft stimulating your passage. The pressure on your clit, his lips on your neck. “Ruin me.”

Tom’s face falls to the crook of your neck, and you feel his teeth dig into the skin of your shoulder as he shudders. You feel him pulse inside you, shooting his load into you, and the action of him climaxing with such low, breathless groans makes you follow suit, your back arching up against him as you spasm. You moan softly, your fists grabbing at his back as you wind down together, feeling his cock pressing his seed deeper into you until you’re whimpering.

“And cut! Wow, you two. That was convincing.”

Tom looks up to meet your eyes, and he shoots you a wink. 

“We’re very good actors,” he calls back, a cocky smirk on his face. You chuckle, nodding in agreement.

“Method actors, now,” you add, quietly. Tom squeezes your cheek and leans up to kiss your nose.