#tom make up fanfic

[piastrinorris]

Worth the Wait

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not even gonna tell me? Tease.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s not a word!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"How you feeling?" he asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yeah?" he smirks proudly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Cheeky!”

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

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

“How’d you mean?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[owlsinleatherjackets]

there are 4 versions of The Lord of the Rings: the books, the films, the extended editions, and the self-insert fanfic you’ve had bouncing around in your head since you were fourteen

[myokk]

Hi! I'm still feral for these two, would you mind giving us some art of them in their later years together!?

Hello angel!!!!

Sorry it’s taken so long to respond🫶🫶 but I wanted to draw some new art for this ask💓

We have: Sebastian and Eloise trying out their new fancy camera with a selfie, pictures of them with their daughter, and finally…idk I just always felt like this drawing is when they’re a bit older💓

I want to take this ask as an opportunity as well to talk a little about how I imagine their future (I have no chill & you can ignore this and just enjoy the art if you want😇).

I am a COMPLETE pantser - I never know how a chapter’s going to end when I start writing it (I always just have a few scenes I know I need to include to keep the plot moving forward). Although I have different *big* scenes I’m always writing towards, and themes/plot elements I’m always foreshadowing (shout out to @elliecutte for catching *almost* all of my hints and appreciating my general no chill😆), IM STILL NOT 100% SURE HOW I WILL END THINGS !!! 😳 I have a lot of endings I see as possible, and I think soon it will become more clear to me what will work the best💓

HAPPY ENDING:

Eloise and Sebastian become Unspeakables. I have a LOT of thoughts on this profession that could be its OWN post, and I feel like Unspeakables are generally specialized in one or two departments, but as their interests/research change they also change.

Eloise becomes an Unspeakable in the Mind and Death departments, with the occasional foray into Time. Her ancient magic is connected with all of these things (my version of AM is NOT like the game) & the Department of Mysteries is one of the only places that gives her any useful information about these things. Plus she thinks too much (it IS her hobby after all😆💓) and is very introverted so a hermit job like this is a perfect fit.

Sebastian becomes an Unspeakable as well, but I feel like it takes him a long time to specialize in anything, if he ever does. I just feel like becoming an Unspeakable is the adult equivalent of sneaking into the Restricted Section🥹🫶

They grow old together (I won’t explain TOO much) & have a lovely little family🥹 at least one daughter that they both dote on. Sebastian had an amazing childhood (idyllic until it wasn’t), and wants to give his daughter the same, and Eloise works hard to make sure their daughter feels the love that she never had growing up🥺

When Sirius is burned off the family tree, Eloise and Sebastian take him in🥹🫶 (they’re like 100 years old but WIZARDS LIVE LONGER…) The same happened to her all those years ago, and she wants him to know that his whole family hasn’t abandoned him.

Eloise LOVED her nieces - Bellatrix, Andromeda, and Narcissa - when they were younger, but as Voldemort becomes more powerful & people realize WHAT he’s doing, she has to separate herself from them. Her heart breaks seeing Bellatrix go mad, and seeing Narcissa engaged to a Malfoy out of obligation😔 (iykyk)

I haven’t thought any more about happy ending but I think it’s fun to think about how their future story might weave in with the actual canon events, ESPECIALLY since Eloise is a Black🥹💓

SAD ENDING:

After Sebastian gets his hands on Slytherin’s relic, it really starts to consume him and makes him even MORE obsessive than his natural tendencies - I imagine it similarly “talking” to him like Slytherin’s locket/horcrux did in Deathly Hallows (😳)

Eloise is deathly afraid of the changes she’s seeing in Sebastian and steals it from him (he would never willingly give it to her ESPECIALLY if it starts to feel like a precious item to him)

BUT the relic triggers the latent Black Family Madness in her - the madness that afflicts almost every woman in her family since…🤭 - and she herself starts to lose touch with reality. Her body and soul are already destroying themselves between the curse and the ancient magic inside of her, and the relic is what triggers it in her.

Sebastian becomes an Unspeakable, focusing on the Mind, in a desperate attempt to find a cure for his Eloise🥺

He never gives up his research, and sometimes when he comes home she is lucid and they talk about his research - otherwise, he just loves and takes care of her.

(He’s never successful in finding a way to reverse what he feels he caused in the first place - his ambition and single-mindedness is, to him, the reason why all of this happened)

Honestly who knows if I end their story either of these ways😌 I just love thinking of AUs and different endings and I have a few others I’ve considered as well!!! And whatever endings I don’t write will be immortalized on this blog and in my art as well🙏

[whohasthecards]

Top Gun AU Idea -- Jake is Mav's son and grew up in foster care.

Jake only has a beat up picture of his dad and that his name was "Pete". He didn't know his mother at all, not even his birth certificate. He was abandoned and whoever abandoned him made sure that his lineage would never be traced.

He figured out who his father was during his first time in Top Gun.

Pete "Maverick" Mitchell.

He also found out that his father was married to the COMPACFLT.

He didn't need a father anymore, right? And he wouldn't want to break up a family in his desperate attempt to maybe gain one. His father probably didn't know he existed. Hell, his father could even be the one that abandoned him (although why he would leave the picture makes that theory unlikely).

However, he did want to meet the one of the Navy's top pilots. It's all professional curiousity.

(He was in the same profession as his father, aviation is in his blood.)

He will become the best.

Maybe he'd meet Maverick once he's on top.

During his first air combat kill, Iceman was the one to shake his hand. The admiral gave him a clap on his shoulder and congratulated him.

The mission occured.

As a person, Maverick was not who he expected him to be.

As a pilot, Maverick was the best.

He was numb when Maverick and Rooster were shot down.

He never felt more alive and scared when he pushed his jet to save them.

He turned and walked away when he saw Rooster and Maverick hug it out, confirming his suspicions during training.

Rooster was Maverick's son, in every way that matters.

Blood doesn't matter, heck there isn't even a blood test that proves that Jake was his son. Only a battered photo with scripted handwriting.

Jake should let go.

After the mission, Dagger squad becomes a permanent squadron with Maverick as team leader.

Maverick got along with every single Dagger just fine, but there was an awkwardness between Hangman and himself that neither knew how to bridge. Mav never did know how to act around people who was just like himself.

Maverick acts paternal and caring to everybody, especially Bradley, and Jake had to swallow the growing jealousy (I don't need him, I don't need him, I don't need--). Why did everyone get a family and a Mav that would look their way for more than 10 seconds?

Why did Rooster get everything he ever wanted?

What did he do or not do that made him deserve this crippling feeling of jealousy and loneliness?

[shivroy]

i'm curious abt hibs' relationship with greg... has that been smth you've thought abt??

sometimes the two most overpaid and tall men at waystar are sent to go get a single cup of starbucks coffee for CEO tom wambsgans. i think theyd feign a sort of haughty jovial civility as greg babbles about the state of the company (mostly as a way of casually, insistently asserting his genuine degree of influence) and hibs leans in to see if he can catch any hint of interestingly biased gossip in what he considers to be intellectual drivel. they do not discuss how greg is & has been fucking tom (but hibernian persistently refuses to talk about any of the men his dad sees) and at actual family gathering events they avoid each other entirely. they both consider the other to be a complete idiot

im not going to mention greg in the shiv pov fic about hibs because i think it is a shiv move to just not fucking include him at all in any of the personal history she's recounting

[iceman-maverick]

"uncle mav + bradley over the years" fic

unmoored

Maverick, drifting in and out of his life. That’s what Bradley remembers most.

(Bradley and Maverick, in ten parts)

---

my submission for the Insert Title Here 2024 collection :)

[nineinchnailpolish]

Stacee Jaxx x GN Reader

Warnings: kissing, smut, nsfw

Pairing: Stacee Jaxx x GN Reader

Word Count: 1239

A/N: This is my first smut i’m posting on tumblr, so who knows if it’s good. I feel uncomfortable writing words during the smut stuff, so sorry it’s only description 😭

Stacee comes out of his room to grab some more alcohol when he notices you walk in the bar. He feels an insane amount of lust and slowly walks over to you.

All the girls fan over him, fainting and grabbing at his body. He throws them off him, walking to you, checking out your body.

“Hey…you should come to my room, we can have some alcohol. It would be…fun” he talked slowly and seductively.

Your eyes widen at Stacee’s words as you blush.

Stacee Jaxx has been your idol for years, but you never thought he would invite you to his room! Waves of excitement and thrill pumped through your blood.

“i- yeah that sounds like fun” you say shyly, smiling at Stacee.

Stacee smirks, his eyes fixated on you as he motions for you to follow him. He leads you down a dimly lit hallway, the throbbing bass of the music shaking the walls. You can hear the distant roar of the crowd, signaling that the show is about to start.

With every step, the air feels thicker, filled with anticipation and desire. Stacee opens the door to his room, revealing a space adorned with rock 'n' roll memorabilia and lit by the soft glow of red lights. The scent of stale cigarettes and musky cologne lingers in the air.

He walks over to his monkey, ‘Hey man’, and grabs a bottle of whiskey. He doesn’t bother grabbing glasses.

He struts over to the couch and sits down by you, manspreading as he takes a swig of the whiskey. He puts his hand out with the bottle, motioning for you to take a drink.

You mumble a thank you and take the bottle, making a face when you drink it. He chuckles at you, watching intently as you take a sip, the cool liquid sliding down your throat. The tension in the room becomes palpable, the lust and attraction between you practically crackling in the air.

Stacee moves closer, pressing his body against yours, his hand trailing up the side of your waist. His touch is electrifying, sending shivers down your spine. He leans in, his lips hovering dangerously close to your ear as he whispers, his voice low and husky.

“So, what’s your name darling~? Realize I haven’t asked yet” He trails his fingers along your arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. You can barely concentrate on his question when he is touching your body.

You clear your throat, “My…my name is y/n” you turn your face to him, blushing.

“y/n…” The name rolls off his tongue a couple times, he smiles as he does so. His hand goes to your face and cups your cheek, leaning closer to your face.

“You’re not like the others y/n…there is something special about you. Something intriguing. I want to explore it if you’ll let me” He asks, caressing your face softly.

“I want to…yes Stacee, please” You move your lips to his, kissing him hard and passionately and you grip his jacket. The world seems to fade away, leaving only the intoxicating taste and warmth of his mouth.

Stacee's other hand travels down your body, his touch tracing a map of pleasure along your skin. His fingers find their way beneath your clothes, exploring the contours of your body with a deliberate eagerness. Every stroke and caress sends surges of pleasure through your veins, igniting a fiery desire within you.

Without breaking the kiss, he leads you to the bed, where he begins to undress you slowly, piece by piece. His eyes devour your exposed skin, his touch leaving a burning trail in its wake. As your bodies intertwine, his hands gripping your hips, he sinks into the depths of your desires, losing himself in the passionate embrace.

“Shit baby…so tight” He grunts out, pounding into you like the beat of the music outside.

Stacee's hunger is insatiable, his hands gripping and caressing every inch of your body, his lips exploring every sensitive spot.

“Stacee! More please~” You beg, scratching up his back as he bruises up your hips.

As Stacee's lips trail down your neck, leaving a trail of tender kisses and marks, he takes control once more. He flips you over onto your stomach, his hands gripping your hips firmly. His touch is demanding yet surprisingly gentle, his fingers tracing the curves of your back.

With a possessive growl, he positions himself behind you, his arousal pressing against your thigh. He enters you slowly, filling you completely with each thrust. The sensation is overwhelming, a melding of pleasure and pain that sends waves of ecstasy coursing through your body.

The room is filled with the sounds of your moans and the rhythmic slapping of your bodies together. Stacee's grip on your hips tightens, his thrusts becoming more urgent and forceful. He drives you to the edge of bliss, the tension building unbearably until you both reach the peak of pleasure.

As you climax together, your bodies convulsing in ripples of ecstasy, time seems to stand still. The sweaty bodies collapse onto the bed, panting and gasping for air. Stacee pulls you close, his arms wrapping around you protectively.

You become surprised Stacee isn’t just kicking you out of his room, but actually holding you. You take advantage of this moment and snuggle into his shoulder.

“that…that was amazing” You say, exhaustion in your breath.

He smirks to himself, knowing he did a good job by noticing you’re out of breath. “Yeah it was…” he murmurs, his voice filled with a rare tenderness.

He shifts slightly, still holding you close as his fingers trace patterns lazily on your bare skin. The room is filled with a comfortable silence, broken only by the distant sound of the crowd and the soft beating of your hearts.

Though that quietness is interrupted when Stacee’s manager barges in.

“Stacee, come on come on! get up! you are about to perform in 10 minutes” he notices you in the bed with stacee, smirking.

“Oh, I didn't know ya had company…but just hurry up and get dressed, you dog! I’ll be waiting for you outside your room” He leaves, shutting the door and sighing to himself.

You blush with embarrassment, being caught. You and Stacee are still naked and his manager saw-

Stacee chuckles softly, his amusement evident in his voice as he places a reassuring hand on your shoulder.

"Don't worry about it, y/n," he says, his voice filled with a newfound tenderness. "He's used to these things happening."

He quickly gets up from the bed, retrieving his clothes from a nearby chair. With an effortless grace, he begins dressing himself, not seeming to mind the interruption in the slightest.

As he finishes buttoning up his shirt, he stands before you, offering you a warm smile. "I need to go perform now, but I want you to know that this isn't over. I want to see you after the show, darling."

He walks over to you, pressing a needy kiss to your lips before hurrying towards the door. "Stay here as long as you like, or come and enjoy music” He winks. “We'll talk more when I’m done."

With that, he leaves the room, leaving you to process the whirlwind of emotions that have taken hold of you. Despite the unexpected interruption, you can't help but feel a glimmer of hope for what lies ahead.

[compacflt]

i am pretty solidly anti-fic printing except when its my fic that i wrote & i want to hold it in my hands for editing purposes

final (final!!!!) edit & slider one-shot inbound soon

[painisforsundays]

Tom Grant

You’ve Got Me by @mypoisonedvine (18+)

Summary: you and tom have been two peas in a pod for your entire lives: tommy and birdie, partners in crime. you only fell in love with him a few years ago, though. maybe he'll notice sometime before you die of old age... but probably not.

Bestfriend!Reader Edging Tom by @userquinn (18+)

Morning Sex With Tom by @userquinn (18+)

Soft Dom!Tom by @userquinn (18+)

Request by @userquinn (18+)

Stupid For You by @quinnsbower (18+)

Summary: you and tom get into a fight and, after he says something especially nasty to you, he makes it up to you in the best way.

5 Minutes In Heaven by @quinnsbower (18+)

Summary: your boyfriend finds an empty closet at work, and he convinces you to play a game of 7 (or 5) minutes in heaven.

Request by @usedtobecooler (18+)

Request by @userquinn (18+)

If It’s Not With You by @usedtobecooler

Request by @userquinn (18+)

[castelled-away]

So I was reading this cool Mergwenthur fic (https://archiveofourown.org/series/3591679), where the 3 of them have a baby girl & they call her YGRAINE 🥹, which just REEKS of Arthur’s sappyness over his own dead mother.

And I would just like to say that, yes, Arthur would totally name his daughter after his mother but if he had had a son, Arthur Pendragon would never EVER call his baby boy Uther after his shitty shitty father. Just so you know. He would not fucking do that.

Also I’d imagine Gwen and/or AT LEAST Merlin (hello??!?) to have several objections against that decision.

[piastrinorris]

Cheers to the Weekend

Pairing: Tom Grant x f!Reader

Genre: smut

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

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

Word count: 3k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Oh, yeah? What about me?"

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

You grin coyly, "And nothing else?"

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

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

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

"...I didn't say that," you tease, moving over to straddle him.

"Oh, hello," he grins at the change of position, his hands running up and down the sides of your body, wrapping his arms around your back once you lean down to kiss him intensely, hips grinding down against his. He hums against your lips, "Mmm, somebody's eager, aren't they?"

"No shit, look at you," you grin back before kissing him again, your tongues engaging in a twisting dance of passion, accompanied by the harmony of you both moaning together.

"Fuck, yes, sweets, y'feel so good like that," Tom groans. "Keep making those sounds, yeah? Please, s'fucking hot." You move just slightly to moan deliberately into his ear, and his grip on you tightens. "Mmm, is this what you've been thinking about all day, love? Counting down the minutes until you could ravish me?"

With a sheepish giggle, you lie, "No…"

"Certainly seems like it," he raises his eyebrows at you as you sit upright, rocking yourself in circles against the erection you feel pressing through his tracksuit bottoms. He bites his lip tightly as he watches you, his hands slipping underneath your pyjama top to squeeze your hips, digging his grip in. He groans, "Want this off, want to see my fingers press into you."

"Is that all you want to see from me being topless?" You mimic his tone from earlier, and Tom laughs as he helps you pull the garment off of your body. He constantly slides his hands up and down your body, stopping each way to grip your breasts and your hips. Every squeeze earns him an evermore desperate buck of your hips.

Tom smiles dreamily up at you. "'M never gonna get tired of this view, pretty girl. My pretty girl."

You hope your, "'M not," is muttered quietly enough for Tom not to hear it, but no such luck.

"Uh, excuse you, you're fucking gorgeous, babe. 'M a lucky, lucky boy," he smirks, pulling your face down to kiss you again. He gasps out a moan against your lips, "And the way you're humping me like that, fuck, so good. Make me feel so good, looking like that, 've hit the jackpot, me. Fuck, is that good for you, too, yeah?"

You play with the collar of his shirt. "Please, Tommy… Wanna really make you feel good."

He groans again, this time out of exhaustion. "Listen, babe, literally any other time, you know I'd have my clothes off at that in an instant, but… 'M just so tired tonight, angel. I'm sorry."

"I could just ride you?" You offer, and he chuckles, rubbing his face wearily.

"You know I don't like just sitting there and letting you do all the work," he frowns up at you.

You mirror him, "And yet you'll spend the best part of an hour going down on me without expecting anything back?"

He pulls a face of intrigue. "What a wonderful idea." Before you can react, he wraps an arm and a leg around you, swinging his whole body around to roll you onto your back, as he hovers over you.

You giggle, "What happened to being tired, eh?"

"That was my last bit of energy," he grins back. "Well, almost. Think I've got just about enough to get these off you." He hooks his fingers over the elastic of your shorts, pulling them down your legs before settling himself between them. "There she is," he coos under his breath, his fingertips tracing the outside of your folds. "I've especially missed you."

You groan, "Tommy… 'S not faaaair."

"What isn't, angel?" he asks, sliding his middle finger inside of you with ease. You gasp out a long moan, your eyes unfocusing, and he grins up at the sight of you.

“Wanna make you feel good, too,” you whine.

He tuts, shaking his head. “Now, now. Sulking in’t gonna get you anywhere, is it?” He pulls his finger almost completely out of you before sinking it back in again quicker. You thrash your fists against the mattress and he breathes out a soft laugh. “What did I just say, sweets?” he asks in the same soft tone as before.

“Not sulking,” you pout. “Just wanna - wanna touch you and taste you and fu- Fuck, Tommy, I really wanna fuck you, please,” you plead as he adds another finger.

He does climb up your body, still working your core with one hand, to silently kiss you. His motions get far more rapid, moving in and out of you until his fingers are so slick with your juices that they just slip out of you, to which he then starts rubbing your clit at the same speed. Your cries of pleasure come out as muted vibrations against his lips, and you don’t realise him taking the pillow next to you and pulling it back down with him even as he breaks away. You blink your heavy-lidded eyes over and over, watching the imaginary spots that shower your field of vision slowly dissipate. 

“Plenty of time for that, love,” he soothes once he’s settled back down where he wants to be. “But right now, I fucking need your thighs around me.” His palms slide up and down the inner sides of your legs as a gentle prompt, and you comply, crossing your ankles loosely between his shoulder blades. He sighs contentedly. “So soft…” He shuffles into position to press a kiss to your clit, his hands wrapping around the flesh of your thighs to hold them in place. “So warm…” you hear him from the cave he’s made for himself between your legs as you feel him nuzzle his way further down to your core. “Perfect.” 

His tongue works as tenderly as it would if he were kissing you, gently poking its way through your folds and sliding through. Your fingers card through his curls as his head turns, this way and that, as he plays you like an instrument, eliciting different noises from you with every motion. Your legs twitch, instinctively squeezing together around his head, and he moans delightfully, pushing down on your thighs to tighten their hold on his head even more. He snakes his tongue inside of you, extending it to its stiffest, most pointed length as he bobs his head back and forth to fuck you with it.

Your legs wrap tighter still around him, and you feel his grip slip around to your ass cheeks to grip them roughly. The sensation of his fingernails digging into your supple flesh have you crying out in pleasure, which you can tell from his moans is turning him on insanely quickly.

But, with your thighs in a vice around him, it gets harder for you to grab his hair, make a mess of his curls so that when he resurfaces, it's obvious for the rest of the day what he's been up to. You don't get to look into those dark, rich eyes of his that caramelise when the sun sets just right through the window.

You pout, "Tommy…" as you relax your thighs, pulling them slightly away from him.

"Everything alright, sweets?" He asks with concern.

You continue in the same tone, "Miss your face."

With a soft laugh, he kneels up slightly, your heels naturally sliding off of his shoulder blades as he does. "Of course, angel, 'm sorry." He pushes your legs wide open, looking down adoringly at your glistening folds. "Such a perfect, pretty thing, isn't she?" he smiles, running the pad of his finger along them. Placing his hands just within the crooks of your legs, he gently pushes outward, spreading you even wider. He marvels at the sight in front of him studiously, his eyes darting around until he places another, calculated, kiss down between your legs, his lips and tongue working in ways no form of self-pleasure could ever replicate. 

His eyes flutter shut as he flicks his tongue in all kinds of formations: he lays it flat against you as he licks along your folds from the bottom up; he gently traces the insides of your lips with the tip; he waggles his tongue back and forth, at a speed your eyes can barely keep up with, as it works your clit from every angle he can move his head to reach. Every sound of pleasure you make is harmonised by his humming against you.

As you melt against him, warm brown eyes flicker up to look at you through his eyelashes as he starts suckling on your clit. All you can see of him are his curls, now wildly spread out thanks to your handiwork, his eyes and his nose, but with just those alone, his expression tells you how much he adores you. The way his brow softly knits together, the glint in his eye, it makes you feel like a goddess that he's obsessed with worshipping. 

You cry out, "Fuck, Tom… Feel… So good, 'm gonna -" The rest of your sentence is swallowed in a high-pitched whine as you feel the first pang of your crescendo forming.

Tom groans against you, pulling away just to tell you, "Perfect timing as always, angel, this has been turning me on like mad, wanna make you cum so badly."

You whimper, "Please… Want yours, too, Tommy."

He tuts, shaking his head. "No time, sweets. Think you coming on my face is exactly what I need to get off, too." Before you can answer back, he resumes suckling on your clit, burying two fingers inside of you and working them at the same speed he had earlier, until you're seeing those spots again. "So fucking gorgeous when you're all fucked out, babe," he croons. "C'mon, be a good girl and come all over me."

As you let your orgasm take full control over your body, he stops fingering you to immediately get his tongue in there, cleaning you up as you cream all over his mouth for what feels like eternity. His look changes as he devours you, one you recognise as his own orgasmic expression. You notice a little movement in the corner of your eye, and prop yourself up on your elbow to investigate.

You'd not even noticed you were a pillow short, let alone that he had slid his tracksuit bottoms to his knees to fold the pillow between his thighs, humping it as erratically as he'd move if he were coming. You let out a small, disappointed whimper. "Y'didn't need to use a pillow, 'm right here."

"Can't eat you out and cum inside you at the same time, sweets," he points out with a smirk, his whole body looking on the verge of giving up all movement as he slides back up to be eye-level with you.

"I could've sat on your face and sucked you off at the same time," you retaliate in a similar tone, and he chuckles.

"Nah, needed that. To just make my girl forget that anything else exists for a bit. Helps me feel the same, too," he explains, leaning over to kiss your forehead. "S'pose I should clean up what's in these boxers, though, eh?"

"Is it weird that it actually turns me on, knowing you came in your pants over me?" You ask as he heads into the bathroom, and half his laughter gets drowned out by the sound of running water. As he's cleaning himself up, you notice the discarded pillow and start rearranging the others until the one he'd been humping is beneath your head.

As he returns, he looks quizzically at the bottom of the bed, pointing to where the pillow had been. You bury half your face into it, smiling coyly as you look over at him, and he bites his lip. "Speaking of things that weirdly turn y'on, that's so doing it for me," he groans under his breath as he sits on the corner of the bed and reaches again for his shoes.

You frown, "Where you off to?"

"We have to eat at some stage, horndog," he teases, leaning over to tap your nose playfully.

"What are you gonna go and get, then?" You ask as he puts on his second boot.

"Thinking that Chinese place just outside of here, it's never that long of a wait," he shrugs, and you hum happily as you redress yourself in your pyjamas, opting to stay sitting up on your bed as he gets up.

"Sounds good to me. Could I have a -" Tom interrupts you by reciting your order exactly as he walks towards the door. Feeling nothing but the pure ecstacy of being around someone who remembers even the littlest details, you mindlessly call back to him, "You're the best! Love you!"

Your little bubble of contentment pops when you realise what you've said. How it's the first time you've said it. And it's just on a throwaway goodbye on his way to get a takeaway. He rushes the few paces it takes to get back to your bedroom to look at you, his expression tough to read, and say, "Say that again." You start to fluster, unsure how you can potentially backtrack from here, but he kneels one leg back onto your bed, leaning over to cradle your cheek in his hand. "Please. Say it properly, to my face," he pleads softly.

Grinning widely, you place your hand over his and look him dead in the eyes as he gives you that worshipping gaze all over again. "I love you, Tommy." A surprised chirp escapes the back of your throat as he tackles you back down onto the bed, furiously kissing your lips over and over and over again, and you laugh against him. "What happened to getting food, horndog? Now you've made me hungry!"

"'M not doing this to fuck ya, 'm doing this 'cause I love ya," he mutters as he kisses your neck. You lay back and revel in how good it feels until your stomach betrays you, growling loudly. The breath from Tom's laugh tickles your neck as he slides down to pull your pyjama top up enough to expose your tummy so he can kiss it. "Alright, message received, loud and clear, boss," he says directly to it before climbing off the bed. You giggle as you readjust your top, and he looks at you softly. "I do love you, y'know."

"If you did, you wouldn't keep me starving here, now, would you?" You tease, falling apart with laughter once more as he bolts out of the door. You head back to where the sofa is - where you'd left your phone - and send him a text: I love you, too, btw. 😘

[delving-verilly]

For anyone that has seen my Sparks series I started, there will be more. Little vignettes of sci fi and fantasy based off some of the most exquisite artworks.

If you like them, please reblog and share. I have a listing of all my fics under the Master List link where I will continue to list them all.

[anti-pasto]

HELP DOES ANYONE HAVE THE LINK TO THE FIC ON AO3 THATS JUST THE GREAT GATSBY EXCEPT NICK AND TOM KISS I NEED IT

[radioromantic-moved]

found another lesbian who self ships with live action men (more than i do) and even though we're not mutuals or anything it is surprising how much better this makes me feel about me doing it. the way i am so "i don't Care what other people think about my selfshipping >:)" but also take so many cues from other people. i will get normal...one of these days

[compacflt]

Did your Ice and Mav like *genuinely* not care whether the other was flirting-with/sleeping-with other people on the side, during their golden-period in the nineties, when they were both working at Miramar: living in the same house, sharing their lives, raising their kid? ‘Cause Ice explicitly states that ‘he only wants it when the opportunity presents itself, but every other time he couldn’t care less: Mav could be fucking the little green men on Mars’, and Mav is all but catapulting Ice into the direction of any woman he thinks Ice might like, just hoping Ice sticks the landing. On the face of it, both of them seem to be operating under the implicit assumption that their life together is temporary, right up-til and even beyond Ice’s promotion to RADM, and his departure. But then, after Carole’s death, when their relationship has crumbled ‘round their ears, Ice does seem to be bothered by Mav’s in-your-face flirting with the waiter, and the radar-techs, and the WSOs, and the anonymous-individual he brought back home that one time, and Ice even thinks to himself, that it doesn’t matter whether that person’s a woman/a man, ‘cause I guess: either way, it doesn’t change the fact that Mav’s with someone who isn’t *him*. So, what I really wanted to know is: was Ice sub-consciously fooling himself, when he thought that he’d be *totally* okay with Mav finding someone else to be with—a woman/another man—or would he really have given Mav his blessings to move-on with someone else, made it easy for him, and quietly walked out of his life?

ice would’ve been fine if mav found someone else. like, good for mav. Ice HIMSELF would not have been fine. single for the rest of his life. he was too late to take the shot in settling down & getting married to a woman. Now, how do you explain to a serious womanly wife candidate the 10-year gap (during which you were fucking/falling in love with another man) between your last serious relationship & this one? And how do you explain the off-the-charts levels of fucked-up you are from this hidden decade-long sexual/romantic relationship that you literally can’t talk about without scaring off any potential date/fucking your career? this is a little cliche but mav has truly ruined ice for anyone else. not because he loves mav so much but because they are both sooooo fucked up, and for the exact same reasons and the exact same secrets, that theyre literally the only people on Earth who understand each other.

no neither of them care about the cheating/“open relationship,” because 1. Ice wishes it wasn’t happening/feels like he’s wasting mav’s time 2. Mav is down for anything (definitely suggested threesomes on multiple occasions) 3. they both KNOW 100% that they’re both so fucked up that at the end of the day, for better or worse, they’re coming back to each other. (the reason ice was such a mess during their breakup was because it was not eminently obvious they would come back to each other. and then where would he go?) And they’re completely exclusive post-getting-back-together (too old to have that much casual sex, and also finally figured out that they super-unfortunately only want each other) so whatever. also, i think in the 90s, mavs “let’s get ice a girlfriend” campaign was kind of like a tongue-in-cheek way for him to rib ice— “we still have to keep up appearances, but you KNOW you wanna fuck me more than any of the girls here. You KNOW it’s me you’re really going to be fucking tonight.”

[piastrinorris]

Firsts

Pairing: Tom Grant x f!Reader

Genre: fluff, angst, smut

Tags: Make Up (film), 18+ (minors DNI), slow burn, underage alcohol content, virgin! tom and virgin!reader, protected sex (if tom can wrap it, so can you), just the fluffiest smut i've ever written tbh, oral (f receiving), fingering, p in v,

Summary: A boy you met in the playground has a far greater effect on your life than you could have imagined.

Word count: 12k

A/N: Ugh, hopefully this signifies the end of my writer's block. Thanks for hanging in there, gang! Enjoy my first Tom fic &lt;3

Age 4

You sit on the roundabout cross-legged, indignantly pressing your hands into your cheeks. You look over at some of the other kids, playing with their friends. You wish you could have friends here too. Even though your parents took you here on holiday, and there’s loads of stuff at the holiday park specifically catered to kids your age, the most they’ll do is bring you to the park for half an hour or so before dragging you along to all the stupid, boring things that they want to do.

A boy with curly hair that sticks out in all directions and brown eyes that glisten when the midday sun hits them saunters up to you. “Hiya. Are you waiting for anyone else?”

You sigh, shaking your head. “No, it’s fine. You and your friends can have it.”

“Oh, I’m here by meself, too! Well not by meself, me mam’s here too, but I thought we could take it in turns!” He outstretches his hand, “I’m Thomas!”

You snort out a laugh. “Like the tank engine?”

“Shut up,” he frowns, making you giggle again.

“My dad’s friend’s name is Freder-eder-ded- Fredrid- Frederick, but we just call him Fred ’cause it’s easier. Maybe I can call you… Tom.”

His eyes light up. He has the most beautiful face you’ve ever seen. “I’d like that. Tom. Yeah. Thanks.”

“Your voice is weird,” you point out.

“Shut up!” he repeats. “Yours is the weird one.”

"Well, I've never heard one like yours before so that makes it weird. Now c’mon, you can spin me first,” you tell him, and with that, he wraps his hands around the metal pole of the roundabout and runs as fast as his tiny legs will take him.

Age 13

Another year, another caravan holiday. The older you get, the less tolerance you have for your parents’ boring excursions. But you absolutely love the downtime in between where you’re just at the caravan park. Because it means you get to hang out with your best friend.

As sad as you are to see your tradition go, of the pair of you picking out postcards for each other to spend all your holiday pocket money on to send to each other throughout the year, you are very excited to show him your birthday present since the last time you saw him.

“Hiya,” comes a familiar call from behind you as you sit at the roundabout that you first met Tom on. You run to him, with his arms outstretched wide, flinging your own around him as soon as you can reach him. His face buries into your cheek as you hug each other, his laughter filling your ears. “Got summat to show ya,” he says as you’re still embraced before pulling away.

“Oh, I have something to show you, too!” you grin, both of you fumbling through your pockets before you both brandish your mobile phones to each other.

With excited gasps, you recite your own numbers that you've memorised to each other, and immediately text each other, despite being feet away. You read your messages on each others’ screens as though it’s the most amazing thing you’ve ever come across.

The two of you walk down to the beach together, babbling on about school life and home life and everything in between life. You notice that Tom goes quiet after a little while, which isn’t like him. You sit down on a log you’d both claimed a few years ago, and Tom picks up a branch from the ground near it and starts drawing absent-mindedly in the sand. You ask with a frown, “Everything alright?”

“Yeah!” he lies, but you glare at him.

“Liar,” you shove him, and he laughs softly. “You think I can’t tell by now? What’s really wrong?”

He sighs, “Well… You know my best mate, Jake?” You nod. “Well, he got a - got a girlfriend last year.”

“You make that sound like that’s the worst thing in the world,” you laugh.

“Obviously it’s not,” he pulls a face at you. “But, like… I’m gonna have to… Kiss a girl at some point soon, aren’t I? It’s all Jake asks of me these days.”

You giggle, “What, is someone still afraid of getting girl germs?”

“No!” Tom elbows you in the side. “I’m...Worried I’ll be shit at it.”

You roll your eyes, “Nobody expects you to be good at it right off the bat!” Tom keeps looking at you sadly and you sigh. “What, you want to practise or something?”

Tom's eyes widen, then he nods slowly. “If that’s okay with you...”

You shrug, “I haven’t had any experience either, so...” you trail off. "I'll probably be shit, too."

“R-right, w-well,” Tom stammers, “I think I- I come over like this, a-and...” he leans towards you, resting a hand on your hip. He leans in close to you, tilting his head both ways. You try and match his movements, but at the last minute his nose crashes into yours and you both laugh nervously.

You try to play it cool, try to breathe deeply in case he can hear your heart thumping too. You’re so close to him right now you can see the little dip left by the dimple that forms when he smiles. The specks in his eyes that glow in the sun. Tom has been the love of your life - but you can’t say that, you’re only 13, you’ve barely lived.

You hold his jaw in place and move to him. His lips are smooth, warm, full, simply invigorating. He doesn’t respond at first, and you feel like kissing just his top lip probably isn't right, but after a few pecks from you he starts to kiss back. Feeling him push out to you makes you crave even more. He carries on with even more fervour until he suddenly stops, pulling back and whipping his hand back into his lap. He mumbles a “thanks” and goes back to poking the sand with his stick.

Your chest feels as though it’s made of lead. You excuse yourself and run all the way back to your caravan, heading straight to your bed and sobbing into your pillow. Of course he hated kissing you.

You do everything you can to avoid Tom for a while. You immerse yourself in everything your family wants to do, constantly asking what they’ve got planned to go out and do, emphasis on the go out bit. You switch your phone off so as not to be distracted by his texts. You rarely leave the caravan.

It’s only on the second-to-last day that your parents basically kick you out of the caravan for the day. Despite them giving you plenty of money to play in the arcade with, you find yourself sitting on one of the swings in the playpark, rocking yourself back and forth absentmindedly.

You don’t notice Tom approaching you, you’re too immersed in trying to think of anything else but him. He clears his throat to get your attention. You notice he’s breathless and red in the face, like he’s been sprinting. With a heavy heart, you nod at him in acknowledgement. “Hiya,” he starts softly.

“Hey.” you reply bluntly. You don’t mean to be so cold to him, you don’t want to be - but you have to be.

“You’ve been mad distant lately, are you all right?” Tom asks, his eyebrows furrowing together.

“Nope, I’m half left, see,” you wave your left hand in the air half-heartedly and Tom chuckles.

“That’s not what I meant, idiot.” He chews on his lip before continuing, “Is it because of how I kissed?” You think about whether or not to answer honestly when he continues sadly, “Was I really that bad at it?”

You sigh and shake your head. “No, you were fine. I...I’ve been busy with holiday stuff! Parents, you know how it is.” You're lying through your teeth, but what did you expect? For Tom to also fall for you as soon as your lips connected? Of course not.

“Right,” Tom breathes out a sigh of relief before continuing, “but you normally don’t go along with that, if you can help it… Does that mean you don’t want to hang out with me any more?” His voice falters back to sadness.

“Well, no,” you blurt out before you can think of something else. Damn. You didn’t want to outright say no because you can’t keep making yourself feel like this. But you look at his smile, at the dimples that you could place on him from memory, at his eyes lit up like a Christmas display, at how his freckles dance up his cheeks, and all of that flies out the window.

“Good! Because - Well, it’s a bit stupid, I know, but they’re doing a thing in the entertainment hall tonight, since it’s most kids’ last day here before school starts, a-and I...I was wondering if...” he starts wringing his hands together.

“You’re worried you’ll look like Billy No-Mates if you turn up without a date and you don’t know any other girls here well enough,” you state simply.

“There’s… More to it than that,” Tom scrunches his face up.

Of course, what you’re unaware of is that Tom is terrified he’s lost you for good. That him being so nervous about being too eager to kiss you that he had to stop himself has been too obvious and ruined your first kiss and that he’s lost the girl he loves. But he won’t admit that. He’ll let you believe whatever you want as long as he gets to spend time with you again. As long as he gets to watch the sparkle in your eyes dance when you laugh, and the little twitch of the nose you do right before you start to think deeply about something, that’s all he wants back.

You, blissfully unaware of this, shrug in defeat, “Sure. It’ll be nice to catch up over the last few days, I guess.”

Tom grins, “Alright, sound! I mean, I doubt we’ll really be able to catch up at the dance, but...We could always grab dinner together at the restaurant bit beforehand, just me an’ you?”

“Sounds good,” you press your lips together and nod. Tom grins and waves goodbye as he leaves the park, leaving you to curse yourself. You’re just letting him walk all over you - to you, Tom is now your first friend, first kiss, first dinner date, first dance date; you feel like to Tom you’re just a test dummy.

Age 16

You knew he had a girlfriend, now. He’d phoned you about Ruth in the early days of knowing her, and despite everything, you’d talked him into asking her out. He deserves that happiness, even if he can't get it with you.

She had seemed really interested in getting to know you, too, at first. Tom was always telling you that she’d been asking questions constantly about you, and that he couldn’t wait for the two of you to meet. “My girls,” he’d always say. Your heart would soar 50 feet into the air just to plummet a hundred at those words.

Phone calls became less frequent as months went on. After you’d sent over your Christmas card and present to him, as per your tradition, you only got back a card that had your name written at the top, and “- Tom” at the bottom. Not the “Love,” that would always come before it. Not the little kiss he’d always put underneath his name. That really stung.

What was once a constant stream of texts from wishing each other good morning to goodnight every day for the last 3 years becomes occasional, which becomes non-existent. He doesn’t even text you on your birthday.

You beg and you plead with your parents to not go on the annual Cornwall holiday. Anywhere but. You’re 16 now, that’s plenty old enough to stay at home on your own. You’d be more than happy to have a neighbour check in on you regularly and spontaneously. Or a family member. Even your worst enemy, just - not there. Not facing him. And besides, you’re almost certain he won’t be alone with his parents this year.

And you’re right. She’s hanging off of his arm all the while the other regular teens crowd around them. They’re all just as much your friends as they are his. But this year you don’t feel welcome around them.

And it’s not just jealousy on your part. You’d even tried to be friendly. You’d practically skipped up to the both of them on your first day, after a lot of mental preparation, to a judgemental stare from Ruth that started from the moment she laid eyes on you, to the moment you left her field of vision. It burned especially strongly when Tom hugged you in greeting, even if you could have gotten a more meaningful exchange with a Lego figurine, with a just as emotionless, "Hiya."

It hurts when you end up seeing Ruth and Tom together and she’s the one who notices and suddenly drapes herself over him. It hurts more when it’s him that sees you first and he takes her by the hand and simply runs off with her.

It hurts the most when you catch them kissing on your log. Once again, 3 years later, you’re running from that beach to your caravan and you’re curling up in your bed crying your eyes out. Except, this year’s trip won’t end in a dinner where he feeds you his chips just because you didn’t ask for any with your meal and he wants to make sure you don’t nick all of his. It won’t end with a DJ asking everyone - and he means everyone - to make their way to the only slow-dance of the night, and Tom goofily dancing in ultra slow motion as he eventually encourages you to do the same. It’ll end in him doing that with her, while you sit and eat whatever your parents can make out of whatever’s left in the fridge and fight back the tears you haven’t yet cried while in the privacy of your own room.

It makes sense, after all. Tom being your first love, he was always destined to be your first heartbreak, too.

Age 17

You hear a moan fall into your mouth, you feel a hand grip on your arm. Another rests on your thigh. Your hand moves up to his hair, burying deep into his soft, brown curls. Except it doesn’t. It barely scrapes through the cropped, straight hair of your boyfriend. 

You’d so loved that the guy on the other side of the classroom in your college class had noticed you, had asked you out. Your parents love him, your friends back home love him. And, as it had turned out, he’d even been holidaying at the same caravan park you always do. It’s just that while your family normally goes at the end of the summer break, his goes at the start. Your family let you go with his this year instead, which you’re thrilled about. Hopefully you can create memories with your boyfriend in Cornwall with absolutely no trace of Tom, who’s surely only going to be there in the last week, like always.

You don’t believe it when you see him and her in the distance, outside the window. You think you must be making it up. There’s no way. It’s only fleeting, so you shake it off and try to focus on being in the moment with your boyfriend. He takes you by the hand, leads you to your bedroom for the next week, sits you both on the bed and starts kissing you intensely. That’s when you start imagining him as Tom, again. This is exactly the opposite of what you wanted to happen.

Later on, when you’re on your way to the arcade, you spot an old friend from past trips. She excitedly greets you, states her surprise over seeing you so early in the summer, and tells you that she works here now. She tells you of a staff party that’s happening in one of the luxury chalets. It’s apparently a tradition, first weekend of every summer holiday period, the staff club together and buy it out for a weekend. She invites you both along, and you gleefully accept.

You speculate all week about what your first house party is going to be like. What being drunk for the first time is going to be like. Your boyfriend laughs at you every time. "You're hilarious. I can't wait to see how sloppy you get."

That makes you nervous. How much alcohol does it take to get you wasted? You were hoping to make sure you stayed of enough sound mind to remember it all. Would you really inevitably get "sloppy" and embarrass yourself?

When the party's finally in full swing, you're insistent on sticking to cans of soda. Your boyfriend frowns at you, demands to know why you're suddenly so shy over drinking after it being all you could talk about. You tell him you just need to build up to it, that it's a first time which makes it a big deal. He rolls his eyes and mutters something about first times and walks away.

You frown at that. There's only two main things about you and firsts. The fact that you and Tom may never share any more, which you've never discussed with your boyfriend; and that the first time the two of you had tried going beyond kissing, he'd called you…

No, you're not thinking about that. He said he's sure it's something you'll get over, and once you are, he'll be ready for you. You just need to try and rein it in for yourself. Did he resent you because you hadn't managed to keep it under control yet?

Your brain is swimming when you hear the one voice you'd simultaneously been waiting for and dreading. "Hiya!"

Taking a deep breath in and putting on a brave face, you feign surprise. “Oh my god, Tom! Hi! What are you doing here?!”

“Well, Ruth had made friends with one of the girls that works here, Jade, and she invited us - well, Ruth, but, y’know, we’re sort of a package deal,” he laughs awkwardly. “Um, so, what are you doing here?”

“Hayley works here now, an’ all! Remember her?”

Tom laughs under his breath, shaking his head slightly. “Don’t surprise me in the slightest. ’Member how she was always the first to volunteer to get on stage?” You both laugh loudly before faltering into a weird silence. “So, found your tipple of choice, yet?” he asks, gesturing to the plastic cup in your hand.

“Oh!” You shake your head. “Not yet. I wouldn’t even know which one to start with. I’ve, uh, I’ve never really drank before.”

Tom chuckles, “Hey, me neither! Was gonna play it safe and go for a beer. Fancy indulging in my first one with me?”

“We’ve shared enough by now, haven’t we?” you ask with a small smile. 

“So,” he starts as you both head into the kitchen. “You never really explained why you’re here this early.”

“Didn’t I? I’m here with my boyfriend and his family,” you explain.

Tom’s face falls, though you’re too busy navigating your way past everyone at the party to notice. “O-oh… Boyfriend? Is he… Y’know, good to you, an’ that?” He asks, his energy suddenly depleted.

“Yeah! Yeah, he’s great. Dunno where he is at the moment, but I’ll have to introduce you both while we’re here,” you nod.

“Definitely! I’ll let Ruth know you’re here, she can say hi to you an’ all.” Tom thankfully doesn’t notice your eyes rolling as he studies the drinks now in front of you both. Tom looks over his shoulder at you and jerks his head at the kitchen counter. “Pick our poison, then.”

You shrug, “I dunno, you said beer? Let’s go with that.”

Tom nods, grabbing a couple of bottles and an opener, clicking the lids off and handing one to you. “To us, eh? Finally growing up.”

WIth a defeated smile, you clink your bottle against his and you both take your first sips. Tom immediately pulls a face of disgust, which then turns to intrigue. He looks over at you and laughs as you stand there, looking as though you’ve squeezed an entire lemon out onto your tongue. “Maybe we’ll get you something sweeter. ’Ere, how about one of these flavoured vodkas? Stick some of that in with your Coke.”

You and Tom stay and chat for the best part of an hour, catching up on everything. It’s the happiest you’ve felt in a long while. Certainly this whole week. But then he talks about finding Ruth and for the first time all night, you think about where your boyfriend could be.

You take a lap of the cabin. And another. And another. Each time more and more anxious. Calling his name out is getting you nowhere.

And then you see a flash of him getting pulled into another room. You don’t see the other person. Their arm is especially slender, their painted nails gripping his shirt as he grins down at them. You stare at the door as it closes, in pure shock and horror.

Your ears ring until you eventually hear a faint, but familiar, “Hiya, what’s going on with you? You’ve been up and down like a bleedin’ yoyo!” Tom notices your lack of response and frowns. “What?” As you still don’t answer, he follows your line of vision and points, “In that door?” Your lip quivers and his face steels. “Right.”

The next few seconds happen in slow motion and high speed all at once. Tom swinging the door open. His, “You better not be who I fucking think you are, mate.” Him getting pinned against the wall by your (as of right now) ex. Tom spitting in his eye to get dropped. Your boyfri- ex-boyfriend’s, “Is she as fucking disgusting with you as she is with me?” as Tom tries to walk away. Tom’s face absolutely seething as he turns back around, strides up to your ex and punches him square in the face.

Finally, you find it in you to scream at Tom to stop, and then turn to your ex. “The actual fuck is wrong with you?! Acting a victim just because I was catching up with a friend while you were chatting girls up in the same fucking house?!”

“You know what? Fuck this. Make your own way home. Bitch,” your ex snarls as he pushes past you to the front door as he storms out of it.

You hear a, “What the fuck happened to you?!” and see Ruth approach with her new friend, a girl with just-above-shoulder-length hair. Ruth’s looking at Tom’s red knuckles in horror.

“I’m fine, babe, honest. It were just… That dickhead was feeling up some other bird while…” He gestures weakly at you.

Ruth presses her lips together and nods, “Right. So you’ll punch a guy for her, yeah?”

He groans, lolling his head back. “C’mon, Ruth, don’t be like that now, please. You know I’d do the same if it were you. Or even Jake, or any one of my friends, alright? Don’t mean nothin’.”

“Yeah, well. Think I’m gonna sleep over at Jade’s tonight, anyway. Wanna see how the staff live,” she explains, gesturing to her friend.

Tom looks a little dejected, but he shrugs it off. “Alright, it’s your holiday, too. Have fun. I’ll text you in the morning, yeah?” She nods, and he goes up to kiss her. You look away, wincing. She scowls at you as she walks past you to leave. 

Someone else in the crowd snorts, “Don’t you think that’s a bit fucking dodgy?”

“What is?” Tom asks, turning to face them.

“Accusing you of cheating on her with a ‘friend’ and then conveniently sleeping over with a friend of her own?” They fold their arms to raise their eyebrows in suspicion at Tom.

He merely shrugs, carefree. “Exactly. It’s perfectly normal to just have friends, alright?” He sounds a little exasperated at that, holding his hands up. “It’d only be dodge if I were also up to no good. But I’m not, because I know that it’s okay to just hang out with a friend every now an’ then.” He looks at you and shrugs. “Listen, don’t worry about tonight. Mum and Dad had us in a twin room, anyway, I can pull the beds back apart again if you need a place to sleep. Till then, we can stay here, long as you like. Alright?”

You nod gratefully, pushing out a whispered, “Thank you.” 

You hug him tightly and he gives you just as much back, rocking you gently from side to side before rubbing up and down your back and offering, “So, how’s about we go back and demolish all the vodka and coke in that kitchen, yeah?”

You awaken in a single bed, next to another single bed that has a stirring Tom in it. He looks over at you, rubbing his eyes awake, “Hiya.”

You groan, “Of all the first encounters we’ve had, I’m begging you to have looked into how to deal with our first hangovers.”

He snorts with laughter. “‘’Fraid not. Looks like we’re suffering together.”

“Fantastic,” you whine as you throw yourself to lay on your other side.

Age 18

Even now that you’re legally an adult, that caravan park in Cornwall never evades you. You’d wanted to go on one of those big pre-university holidays to Spain or Greece like most 18 year olds do, but too many plans kept falling through and things kept going wrong and so, in order to catch some kind of break, you end up giving into your friend Hayley’s offer to stay with her for the holiday period. The friend that works there.

The staff living quarters are identical to the rest of the caravan park, with the exception of a common area with a bonfire. As you’re carrying your suitcase past it, you spot her. Again. Of course. You await the disgusted glare she’s about to give you, but she doesn’t seem to acknowledge your existence in the slightest. Hayley catches up with you, notices, and nudges you, “You know, she’s actually a lot more chilled out now that she’s with Jade instead.”

You double-take so fast you almost give yourself whiplash. “She’s wi- You mean, with?” Your friend nods. “Aww. Well, good for her, I guess.”

Once you’re in the caravan, you take out your phone and tap through to yours and Tom’s text history. You read back the last text you’d had from him, almost a year ago:

Hiya. Hope you’re alright, and you got on the train okay. Listen, I know I said all that guff about us just being friends, and I know that’s what both of us have always been, but Ruth’s proper upset about it. It was really good to see you again, but I don’t think we should talk while this is still fresh. Safe travels.

You wonder why he never thought to text you even after they’d broken up. Did he even want to hear from you again? You bite the bullet and text anyway:

Hey, stranger! Heard about you and Ruth. Sorry to hear it. Hope you’re doing well.

Hiya, yourself! Yeah, thanks, I’m holding up. Better for us all, really. How’d you hear, if you don’t mind me asking? x

Saw her at the caravan site and she didn’t give me evils, lol. 

YOU’RE HERE?! :D x

Yeah! 

Wait, when you say *here*...

What caravan are you staying in? x

One of the staff ones, 159. Why?

He doesn’t text back as quickly after that, so you instead start fixing up some lunch for you and your friend. She goes down to the shop to pick up something for the two of you to drink, and while you have the caravan to yourself, there’s a hurried knocking at the door. You assume Hayley told her bosses that she’s got someone living with her over the summer - she does have one of the ‘luxury’ two-bed caravans, after all - so there should be no problem with you answering it.

You don’t even get a good look at who it is before you’re being swept up in their arms and backed into the caravan, but you recognise that scent, that grip, that swooping feeling in your stomach. That laughter in your ear, followed by the greatest word in the English language, “Hiya.”

“Oh my god! What are the chances that you - oh my god!” You yell excitedly as you see him in his uniform. He twirls himself from side to side with a proud smile to show it off. “You got a job here, too?!”

He grins, “Yeah!” but it falters. “’Course, it would’ve helped if I’d’ve known my ex was dumping me for someone else who works here before I accepted but,” he shrugs, “swings and roundabouts. Speaking of! They’ve got rid of our park.”

You gasp sorrowfully. “What? No!”

“I know! They’re redoing the whole thing,” he pouts.

“I mean, to be fair, it was getting close to becoming an actual death trap,” you point out. “Last year, I don’t think the roundabout even actually spun anymore!” You both laugh as Hayley returns.

“Oh! Alright, Tom! See you’ve found my fugitive for the next six weeks.”

“Sure have! Can I nick her for a bit, though? Got some catching up to do,” he looks at her hopefully, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet.

She looks between the two of you before grinning, “Yeah, why not? I can make my own lunch, away with you both!”

“Have you not had lunch yet, then?” Tom frowns as you both walk down the steps of the caravan.

“Mate, I literally just got here,” you gesture to your car as Tom falls into a pile of giggles.

“Alright, mate,” he nudges you with his elbow as he mocks you. “How’s about we take full advantage of my new staff discount,” he waggles an ID card between his fingers, “and go get you your own chips for once?”

“You remembered!” You cackle. “And they’re way tastier when they’re not mine.”

All through your meal, as you catch up, there's a very large elephant in the room that Tom isn't addressing. After a post-lunch walk ends up taking you to your log, the bittersweet punch that hits your chest finally has you speak up as Tom sits on the log, sprawling his legs out in front of him: "Why didn't you ever text?" Tom presses his lips together as he takes a deep breath in and out. "I know… I know you said that Ruth didn't like you talking to me, and while that was shit, I kinda get it. But… Why didn't you…?"

"Reach out after we broke up?" Tom asks, bending his knees to rest his elbows on as he rubs his face with his palms. "I don't fucking know, is my honest answer. I thought about it, if that helps. Probably fucking doesn't," he mutters. "I just… Assumed you'd hate me for letting a girl come between us."

"Well… A little," you admit, finally sitting down next to him. "Hate you more for assuming I'd hate you, though." Tom shoves your shoulder as he laughs softly, and you chuckle quietly, too.

"Let me make it up to you?" he asks. "Dinner at my caravan later?"

You groan, "Please tell me you've learned to do more than put tinned spaghetti on a slice of uncooked bread."

"As long as you eat it like a sandwich, ain't nothing wrong with it," he beams. "But, just for you, I'll make it proper special, yeah?"

"Ooh, like a date? Do I have to dress up?" You tease, and he laughs loudly.

"I distinctly remember you wearing jeans on our first date, so you've set the bar pretty low there."

You look at him in mock offence, "Excuse you! Those were my smart jeans that had the sequin dolphins on them! I felt like a little celebrity in those," you reminisce.

"You can wear what you like, just… Maybe no bedazzled fish this time, eh?" He glances over at you side-eyeing him and interrupts you before you can start correcting him, "I know, I know, dolphins are mammals, actually." He collapses into a fit of giggles, losing the accent he's using to mock yours as he squawks at you trying to push him off the log entirely.

"Can't believe you remember that, and all," you smile fondly.

"Of course. Still got that toy one I bough-" Tom interrupts himself, but you silently encourage him. "I, uh, we had a school trip to the aquarium. An' they had a - a little gift shop there, they had these toy dolphins. I bought one to give you years ago, but I just… Never got round to it."

“Ruth stopped you?” you guess, and he pulls a face in response. You copy him, “You’ll just have to give it to me when you come visit me in Nottingham, won’t you?”

He sits bolt upright. “You what?!”

You giggle, “I got into Nottingham. For uni, I mean.”

“Shit, that’s huge! Grats!” he pins your arms to your side in a quick squeeze. "An' there's a bus that goes straight there from Derby, so there'll be no escaping me!"

Your eyebrows knit together, "You not staying here year-round?"

He shakes his head. "I was gonna, when I first applied for it, but then… Well, things have changed now, in't they?"

You giggle, "I'll finally get to see your house for real!"

Tom gasps excitedly, "Shit, yeah, and Mum'll be dead happy to see you again!" He slaps his knees and stands up, "Right, well. This ain't getting me back to work, is it? Gotta make sure I clock off nice an’ early." He offers his hand out to you. "Wanna get up too, or are you staying here?"

You take his hand and let him pull you up to standing. "Nah, I better get back to Hayley at some point. Text me whenever you want me ’round, yeah?" You ask, trying not to grin stupidly at the fact Tom doesn't let go of your hand right away.

"Will do. In a bit, yeah?" he asks with a smile, holding your hand out to him for just long enough for you to speculate whether he was about to kiss it before letting it go, instead.

As you head straight back up the path next to the log, he goes across the beach for a minute, making his way to the other side of the park where he needs to be instead. You return to caravan 159 to see Hayley sprawled across the sofa, watching the tiny TV. She jumps up excitedly when she sees you. “So, how’d it go?” You explain that you have dinner planned with him tonight, but that you’re not certain what level of date to consider it. Hayley helps you go through the clothes you’d packed, but they were all either too casual or too going-out-y, outfits you’d planned for nights out at bars and nightclubs. Not exactly dinner-with-an-old-friend attire.

Hayley takes you by the hand to her room, where she starts pulling out dresses and holding them against you. You laugh, “Hayles! These are your show outfits, I can’t wear them!”

“Why not?” she frowns. “We’re the same size, I still get to choose which ones I wear every night so I’ll have plenty of options. And Tom and that never come and watch, so he’ll be none the wiser.” She waggles her eyebrows, wiggling the dress in her hands from side to side. “Come on,” she drawls the last word, stretching it out. “You know you want to.”

You snatch it from her and scoff, “If I take this, will you stop?”

She grins wickedly. “Not until you’ve shown me what undies you’re gonna wear, too!”

You feel your face grow warmer as you shake your head, “And what does that have to do with the price of fish?!”

She cackles, “You know.”

“I know nothing, remember? I’m still yet to… Y’know,” you falter. Hayley doesn’t quite know the full extent of yours and Tom’s friendship, only knowing that you’ve both been coming to this park as long as she has. She doesn’t know that there’s ample ammo for her to tease you about tonight, and you put all your energy into calculating everything you’re about to say to make sure you don’t slip up. That’s the last thing you need.

“Is that why you’ve got these?” she asks with a giggle, already back in your bedroom and scooping up a pair of lace panties with her finger from the packing cube you’d assigned for underwear.

Your face now a furnace, you chase after her with a, “Shut it!” as you snatch them away. “They’re for if we ever go… Y’know, out anywhere. Sometimes it just gives you a little boost to wear a cute matching set, know what I mean?”

She grins, “I know, I’m just yanking your chain. Wear what you want, as long as you look good doing it.” Her voice gets quieter as she heads back into the main room of the caravan, until she calls out loudly, “So, where is he taking you, do you know?”

“He says he’s going to cook for me,” you state as you press Hayley’s dress to your front and look in the mirror. “Yeah, said he’ll text me when it’s ready.”

Hayley suddenly reappears back in your doorway looking fearful. “You sure about that?”

“Yeah! Why shouldn’t I be?” you ask with a frown.

“You ever seen Tom’s cooking?”

You shake your head. “Not since we were about 14? And all he could do was heat up tinned spaghetti and dump it onto bread he didn’t even think to toast. But he said he’d do better, and that was four years a-” Your face falls at her expression.

“Babe. He was literally eating that for dinner yesterday when we called for him to come sit round the fire,” she tells you with raised eyebrows.

“So… I should… Just go there as soon as I’m ready?” You ask, nodding slowly, and Hayley mirrors you. She shows you from the window which trailer is Tom’s, and lets you finish getting yourself ready.

After showering, getting dressed - including the set of underwear that Hayley teased you about, even though you definitely don’t plan on having anyone else see it, it’s definitely just to give you the little boost of confidence you need - and applying as much make-up as you feel comfortable putting on for tonight - you give Hayley a quick hug, though she has you pose for some photos first to “commemorate” how good you look in her dress. She’s quick to usher you out of the door afterwards, though, telling you where she’ll bury her spare key so you can get back in (“If you get back in tonight,” she adds with an exaggerated wink as you roll your eyes at her and walk out) and pointing out one more time where Tom lives.

You knock on the door tentatively, but the muffled country music you can hear from the other side tells you that Tom probably can’t hear you. You try the door and it opens easily, allowing you to see Tom dancing around the tiny expanse of his kitchen, singing under his breath as he takes a handful of spaghetti out from its packet and throws it into a pot of boiling water as though it were a part of the way he’s dancing. 

Your phone still clutched in your hand, you go to position it in a way to start recording him, but he catches you. Instead of looking surprised, he simply beckons you over with one finger. Walking across to him, as he’s still singing and swaying, he holds his hand out, to which you give him yours and he twirls you around. “You look amazing,” he smiles at you breathlessly.

Trying not to get too flustered, you quickly reply, “You scrub up alright, yourself!” You gesture to him, looking down at his dress shirt and - “Oh, so when I wear jeans to have dinner with you, I get ridiculed, but -”

“Shhh-sh-sh-sh,” Tom shushes you with a smile, pressing his finger against your lips, which you laugh against. “How come you’re early then, eager beaver? Didn’t even need to tell you where I live.”

“Hayley told me. Warned me to come over and make sure I don’t get food poisoning or something,” you giggle, and Tom gasps, holding a hand to his chest.

“That cheeky cow!” He jokes before draping his arm over your shoulders and aiming you towards the stove. “Well, I’ll have you know, I’ve been cooking not just one, but two options. See, I couldn’t remember if you ate meat or not, so I’ve got some… Broccoli spaghetti dish on the go on this side, and then there’s sausage and rice in this big pot here,” he points out.

“At least none of it came out of a tin, good boy,” you smirk as you take a spoon from the utensil rack on his counter and start stirring the spaghetti around to make sure it all starts cooking. You continue stirring the different pots, asking Tom if there’s anything more to be done, but he simply carries on singing along to what you recognise playing now as Take Me Home, Country Roads, taking another utensil off the rack from where he stands behind you to sing dramatically into the handle as he side-steps back and forth around you. “Can’t believe you actually listen to this stuff,” you muse, shaking your head softly.

“What’d you mean?! It’s decent,” Tom pouts.

“Tom, my granddad listens to Jim Reeves,” you point out.

“Then your granddad’s got excellent taste, don’t he,” Tom grins before putting his hands on your hips. Your heart skips several beats as he gently pushes you out of the way. “C’mon, now, let me dish up. You go sit at the table, yeah?”

Your heart soars again when you see there’s already knives and forks laid out, as well as a candle off to the side. Tom soon follows, holding both plates out to offer to you. You pick the one you prefer and set it down in front of you. Tom puts his down on the other side of the table, fishing a lighter out from his back pocket to light the candle between you. “Shit, I forgot to pour the - d’you like wine? If not, I’ve got some Coke I can put in a wine glass to look dead fancy,” he calls from the kitchen area, where his head is buried in a cupboard.

“You’ve got wine glasses?!” You ask incredulously, leaning around to look at him. “I don’t even know you anymore!”

“Ha-ha,” he deadpans, throwing you a sarcastic smile before holding up the wine bottle. You signal your response and he fills up both glasses accordingly. “Bought ’em to impress a girl, dunno if it was worth it yet, though.” Everything inside you feels like lead again. Of course this wasn’t anything more than platonic. As he hands you the glass, he waggles his eyebrows, “Well? Was it?”

Relieved that you had nothing to worry about after all, you grin, “Am I supposed to be the girl you’re trying to impress? Even though I’ve watched you eat worms?”

He rolls his eyes as he takes his seat again. “It was one worm and it was because shitty Damien dared me, alright?” He defends with a smile, and you laugh. “And besides, I was six! You were no saint back then either, how many times did I eat figurative shit because a certain someone kept tying my shoelaces together?!”

“I can’t believe you never even realised when I was doing it, too,” you clutch your stomach as you sigh, coming down from the raucous laughter his memory had caused you. You offer your glass out to him, “Here, to old times, eh?”

“And new,” he smiles softly, clinking his glass against yours.

Conversation never runs dry between the two of you as you finally catch up properly over everything in the past three years. You laugh, you tease, you reminisce fondly. After dinner and a store-bought dessert that Tom still puts effort into looking fancy, the two of you retire to his sofa to watch whatever’s on TV. 

You deliberately sit so that there’s a little distance between you, not wanting to be presumptuous, and so when you try to sit comfortably, tucking your feet begins you, your rest your head on the back of the seat, ending up with your head just shy of brushing against Tom’s arm. You can sense him looking at you in your peripheral, and look over at him in question. When you make eye contact, he flashes his eyes at you and jerks his head to the side, silently offering you to shuffle up next to him. You do so, moving until your head ends up resting on his shoulder. He drapes his arm around you, holding onto your arm and squeezing it gently.

After a few minutes, you tilt your head up to look at him again. The faintest hint of stubble peeks through his skin, illuminated by a movie you’ve seen so often you could recite it, but it makes Tom laugh nonetheless. Eventually, he’s the one that catches you staring, and you can see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows hard.

You push yourself up on the couch a little to get a better look at his face. His gaze never leaves you, but he’s looking a little lower than your eyes. As he looks up at your eyes again, he licks his lips. “Tell me now,” he starts quietly. “Tell me to stop, an’ I will.”

You softly shake your head. “Why would I do that?”

Grinning with a sigh of relief, he reaches up to hold the back of your neck and pulls you in for a kiss. It’s a long one, starting out soft but pressing harder as it carries on. You sit up on your knees to angle yourself better, holding his face in your hands so as not to break the contact with him as your lingering pecks continue, but he quickly - considering it was blindly - taps one of your legs to insinuate that he wants hold of it. You shuffle around until he can grab your ankle to pull it until you’re straddling him.

Your arms rest on his shoulders as you keep kissing him. God, you never want to stop kissing him. The hand not still holding your head snakes between you to rub at your jaw, gently massaging it open to slip his tongue between your lips. You let out a whine involuntarily and curse yourself - your ex hated noises like that - but Tom only pushes you closer to him, humming into the kiss.

Finally, the two of you break away from each other, gasping heavily for air. You catch each other's gaze and share the same ear-to-ear smile. His pupils are blown out and his already plump lips look bigger and redder than ever. You have the urge to take the lower one between your teeth, despite not knowing if he’s into that.

Before you can do anything, he’s pulling you close again, though not to kiss your lips. Holding the back of your neck deliberately, he guides you down to start kissing just below your ear. The sensation you feel from it is like no other, and you find yourself whining and whimpering even more. The sounds only encourage Tom as he finds a sweet soft spot at the side of your neck and sucks on it especially hard. You didn’t expect the low moan to roll out of your mouth, nor did you expect that to cause Tom’s hips to buck up against you.

He stops suddenly, his head whipping back to look up at you. His pupils are blown to almost the size of his irises. “I, um… I’ve never… Sorry, I… Fuck, I dunno how to say this without sounding weird…”

You smile softly at him, playing with the curls behind his ears. “It’s okay. I haven’t, either.”

His face softens. “Then everything’s as it should be, right?” He smiles up at you, his hands moving to hold your hips. Something about his touch coupled with where you are makes you want to grind against him, and so you do, holding the back of his head to pull him close enough to rest his forehead against yours. His mouth suddenly dry, he swallows again. “We should probably move this to the bed… Right? More room an’ that.”

You climb off his lap and hold out your hand. He stands and takes it, leading you to the door between you and his bed. He wrenches the door open, then pulls your arm with enough force to send you crashing against him, chest to chest, before his hands find your jaw again to bring it up to resume kissing you. You giggle against his lips, “What happened to the bed?”

Tom presses another peck onto you. “Missed kissing you already,” he grins back against yours. Neither of your hands stop moving around, exploring each others’ bodies, until you can’t bear not feeling his skin against yours a moment longer. 

Moving to run your finger along his buttons, you look at him expectantly. “Can y-… Do you want…” 

With his trademark smile, Tom’s gaze never leaves yours as he undoes a few buttons before grabbing the back of his collar and throwing his shirt off completely. Entranced, you stroke all over his torso before tracing invisible lines between each of his freckles. Kissing every part of you that he can reach, he eventually pipes up, “Sort of feeling underdressed here.”

You look up to grin at him, “Actually, I think you’re wearing too much.”

“Yeah, course you would,” he smirks as his hands slide up your back to the fastening of your dress. He flashes his eyes at you, a silent request, and you nod. He slowly pulls down the zip until the dress, which you were able to just slide over your head anyway, falls off of your body and pools at your ankles. Tom leans back, looking you up and down as he takes you all in. You’d feel very exposed, were it not for the look in his eye. “Fuck me,” he exclaims under his breath. “You are fucking phenomenal.”

Smiling bashfully, you pull him back towards you by the belt loops of his jeans. “Now who’s overdressed, eh?” You ask as you press yet another kiss to his lips.

“Right,” he grins mischievously, pushing you back so that you fall onto his bed, “you get down there.” Giggling, you shuffle back towards his pillows, lay back to rest on your elbows and watch him unbuckle his belt. He notices and starts humming an unintelligible song that he goofily gyrates to, pulling his belt out and waving it around. You roll around laughing as he continues putting on the most Tom-like striptease for you. Once he’s kicked his jeans off, he clambers onto the bed, crawling up until he’s hovering over you, his face not even an inch from yours. He tilts his chin up until the tip of his nose bumps past yours and trails up your bridge, before bringing it back down and rubbing it against the tip of yours again, side to side. “Never thought this day would come,” Tom admits softly.

“Me neither,” you reply back in the same tone. “Never been more glad to be wrong.”

Letting a laugh slip between his lips, Tom nods, “Me, too.” He kisses your nose before looking down your body, letting his fingertips brush against the cup of your bra. Your breath hitches at his proximity, and he looks back at you to grin, “You sure you didn’t think this was happening?”

You pout, “It’s just nice to know that I look sexy, that’s all!”

“Fuck, yes, you do,” he growls as he leans back down to kiss you, his hand gripping your covered breast. You push yourself up and he pulls back, eyebrows knitted, as you reach back awkwardly to try and unfasten your bra. With another smile, Tom reaches over and takes over, fumbling a few times before eventually getting there. Impatiently, you move your arms to throw your bra aside, not caring where it lands, and Tom’s immediately transfixed on your naked chest.

You reach up to place a finger beneath his jaw, pushing it back up closed, and giggle as soon as you move it back and his jaw drops yet again. He reaches down to grab both of them, one in each hand, and a gentle rush of euphoria sweeps through you. He kisses you again, timing the press of his lips with the squeeze of his hands.

One hand moves from massaging your breast to slowly slide down your torso. This is it, where everything comes to an end. You await with bated breath, hoping he'll just rest his hand on your tummy while he kisses you, or something. But his hands dip lower, and just as you feel him lifting the elastic of your underwear, your hand flies to his wrist, gripping tightly. He stops kissing to look you in the eye, confused concern on his face. "Y'alright? Wanna stop?"

You swallow hard and shake your head. "It's… It's okay, you don't have to - I can- want to take care of you."

The concern in his expression grows. "This is a two-way street, love. If you don't want it, I'm not having it, either."

You pout, "No! It's not that I don't want it! I- I  do, so bad, I just…" You sigh. "So, the reason I've never gotten anywhere yet in this… Department, is because I… I tend to… Produce… A lot. And I get that that's, y'know, gross, so… You don't have t-”

Tom interrupts you by taking your face in his hands and kissing you sweetly. “You.” He says before kissing you again. “Are far from that.” Another kiss, and then his brow furrows. “You mean to tell me that dickhead -?” His eyebrows then raise in realisation. “When he asked if you were… ‘Disgusting’ with me, last year…” You nod slowly, and Tom turns his nose up. “Fucking wanker. Thank fuck you’re mine now, eh?” For years, you’d been used to your heart soaring just for it to drop. You feel that sensation reverse, the heavy weight of your ex’s insults flying off of you at Tom’s words, smiling back at him as his adoring eyes look down at you, his thumbs caressing your cheeks.

You slide your hands onto his shoulders with an, “Always was, really."

"Oh, yeah?" he asks, taking one of your hands into both of his, holding the palm out to kiss it.

You bite your lip into a smile. "I, uh… Whenever me and my ex did used to… Try, the only thing that could get me going was…" You falter, looking up at him as he keeps kissing down your arm.

"Was what, angel? Didn't catch that last bit," he grins against your skin.

You giggle, "It was you, okay? Prick."

Tom buries his face in your neck, his mouth working the tender skin just below the mark he’d already left until you let out another moan, to which his hips roll down to grind against yours. With just two thin layers between you, you feel his thick member spread your lower lips beneath the lace of your underwear, and you instinctively rub yourself up and down his length, your legs wrapping around him. “Here, guess what,” he mutters into your ear.

“What?”

“I could only ever get off thinking of you, an’ all.” You feel his teeth against the shell of your ear as you can hear the grin in his voice. “So, does that mean…” He snakes a hand back to the elastic of your panties, working his fingertips beneath them, “That all this is for m- ohhh, fuuuuck,” he moans breathily as his fingers slide down into your wetness. “You get this turned on, just by me?” He asks, and you nod quietly, still not sure how to respond. He looks at you adoringly. “I must be pretty fucking fit, then, mustn’t I?” he asks, another, more arrogant, smile just pulling at the corners of his lips, and you laugh.

“You’re such a dickhead,” you scold, but honestly, it’s a massive comfort to you knowing that even in this most tender of moments, the dynamic of you and Tom isn’t lost. This feels good, natural, right. No need to fear anything. No need to worry. It’s just you and him. Like Tom said, as it should be.

“Oh, I am?” he asks teasingly, his expression growing more mischievous. “Even when I’m doing this?” He runs his middle finger down between your folds until it slides easily inside of you, guided by your wetness. You drop your head back into his pillows, moaning louder than ever and bucking your hips against his finger. “Fuuuck,” Tom groans, “you feel so fucking good.”

“Not too wet?” you ask quietly, and he pulls his finger back, sucks it clean while looking you dead in the eye, and then makes quick work of pulling your underwear off of you. 

Sinking down to lay between your legs, he sighs dreamily. “Absolutely not.” He laps all around at the mess you’ve already made noisily, cleaning you up before tracing his tongue carefully along your slit. Just as it brushes over your clit, your breath hitches and the whine underneath it lingers. Tom looks up at you, his big brown eyes warm and safe watching your reaction as he first sucks on the sensitive area, and then laps the tip of his tongue back and forth against it. Your hand flies into his hair as you moan and you feel his lips turn up against you.

Tom blindly finds your free hand to reach up and connect his fingers with yours, a tender bond as his other hand spreads you apart. Angling his head slightly, you watch his tongue fly quickly against you, his own moans echoing yours as you push his face against you, desperately craving more, you don’t quite know in what sense, you just want pleasure, you just want him. You feel yourself gushing around him and you start to feel a little tense. Feeling the change in you, the hand holding yours squeezes, a reassurance. 

He once again happily cleans up after you, muttering unintelligible sweet nothings inside of you as he does. You lock eyes with him again as he resumes sucking on your clit, moving to slide two fingers inside of you. While you certainly feel more full, it doesn’t hurt as much as you were warned it would, thanks to your… Overproduction. Instead, you feel a sensation you’ve never felt before. Stronger than you’ve ever even felt whenever you’ve pleasured yourself. You keen against his fingers, moaning and whining as he gently encourages you, “Fuck, yes, angel, that’s it… Oh, fuck, you’re squeezing around my fingers… Gonna cum all over my fingers, yeah? Do it, baby, cum for me.”

As though working on his actual command, you feel a rush through every nerve in your body, one that pushes its way from your core, spreading along your spine until it arches, across your arms until you’re grabbing the sheets, through your legs until they bend in the air above you. Not wanting to be loud enough to be heard throughout the whole park, you bite through your lip as you let out a long, high-pitched moan throughout your release. 

Tom doesn’t surface for some time as he drinks you in, finally re-emerging with shining lips and wild eyes. Wiping the excess of you off with the back of his hand, he crawls back up your body to kiss you, practically pushing your entire self into the mattress. “God, you are fucking incredible,” he grins against your skin as he moves to kiss your neck, this time just under your other ear.

“I can’t even pretend the same’s not true of you, a certain something’s betrayed me, there,” you joke, and he chuckles under his breath, his lips ghosting the shell of your ear. “Be honest with me, though. It wasn’t… Too much, was it?”

“Not in the slightest, babe,” he whispers into your ear as he presses gentle pecks along your jaw and to your lips. “I’d happily stay down there and eat you out all night long, but…” He pushes himself up to kneeling, palming himself through his boxers as he looks at you hungrily. “I am fucking aching to be inside of you,” he admits. You go to reach out as well, but he bats you away with a soft smirk, “I’m already certain I’m not gonna last long at all, sweets, give me some credit.”

“I don’t care how long you last,” you smile wistfully, watching him climb off you and slide his boxers off, hypnotised by the way his cock springs out as the elastic waistband drags past it.

He glances over as he takes a condom out of his drawer and smirks, “Take a photo, won’t ya, it’ll last longer.” You’d react, but you’re still enamoured watching him roll it down his length.

He gets back onto the bed, lining himself up at you with a look in his eye like he can’t believe it’s finally happening. You feel his tip pressing into you and gasp, your lips forming a near-perfect O before spreading out into a smile. Tom mirrors you as his hands find yours, holding them both just either side of you as he pushes in. You certainly feel the pressure of him sliding in, but it’s far from painful. His eyes study your expression with concern, obviously anticipating you to be in pain as well, but you give him a reassuring smile and a nod as he starts pulling out and pushing himself back inside of you again.

His fingers and his tongue were enough to drive you wild earlier, but nothing on this earth has ever made you feel as good as him thrusting into you. He starts off slow and gentle, but your body yearns for more. As you start to buck your hips up against him, he once again rubs the tip of his nose against yours, stroking his thumbs along the sides of your hands as he shushes you. “Patience, sweets,” he soothes. “We’ve got all summer to fuck like rabbits… But tonight, I just wanna make love to you.”

Too euphoric to filter anything you say now, you breathe out an, “I do.” Tom looks at you, his expression a mixture of deliberation and elation. You beam widely, “You may be a dickhead, but I fucking love you.”

His smile practically touches his ears as he cradles your face with an, “I love you, an’ all, you big twat,” before leaning down to kiss you passionately, moaning against your lips with every thrust. As you lose yourself in the embrace, you feel Tom slip out from you. Again, you start to worry yourself, but Tom’s assuring stroke against your cheek as he simply guides himself back in and returns to kissing you with just as much fervour puts those fears at ease.

You feel the crescendo of another orgasm looming just as Tom’s expression starts to change, as well. Wanting nothing more than to climax alongside him, you try and hurry yourself along a little by rubbing your clit in circles. His pace slows as he watches you, entranced, though your body craves him more than ever. “Fuck, please, Tom, don’t stop,” you whine, and he groans as he resumes rocking his hips into you again.

“God, you’re so fucking hot, you know that?” He asks you breathlessly. “Keep going, baby, keep showing me how you touch yourself, fuck, that’s it.” 

“’M gett- fuck, I’m already close again, Tom,” you moan, and his motions lose any sense of rhythm, just trying desperately to release.

“Me too, sweets, I’m - fuck, I love you,” he groans as he snaps his hips harshly into you. That final press hits just the right spot inside of you and you feel yourself come apart for him yet again, squeezing around him as you ride your second wave of the night.

As you both come down, he presses soft kisses all over your face, down your neck, as far down your chest as he can reach while staying inside you until he finally pulls out. “I’d help you out again, but, uh, I think you’re probably a bit sensitive down there by now,” he grins, leaning up to kiss your forehead. “Let me go get rid of this thing and get you a towel, alright?” Unable to move, talk, or even really think, you simply nod at him, which earns you another breathy chuckle and another peck to the top of your head as he walks off.

He returns within a minute, and insists on gently patting you dry, the tenderness in his eyes matching his touch. You eventually muster enough energy to reach over to him and card your fingers through his curls. He leans into your touch, smiling over at you as you mutter, “I love you, too.”

“D’you know, I’ve never been happier to hear anything else.”

Once you’re all cleaned up, he lays next to you, and you lift yourself up to let his arm rest beneath your head. Curling up against his chest, you let him envelope you, enjoying the comfortable silence until he pipes up, “That was fucking amazing. Like, I knew it’d be good, but… You hear all these things about your first time. And I was always scared with Ruth that I’d mess up somehow, or I’d kill the mood, you know how daft I am. But it was all just… Part of it, weren’t it?”

You press your head into the crook of his shoulder. “Yeah, I know what you mean. I was always scared of the same, and then, well…” You gesture down between your legs.

“’Ey,” Tom scolds, reaching down to grab your wrist. “No more of that. It’s just the way your body works, yeah? And your body is fucking perfect. I’ll never stop proving that to you.”

And he really doesn’t. When you had first disclosed to Hayley that you were a virgin, the previous year when you’d come with your ex, she’d told you, “Sex is like Pringles; once you pop, you just can’t stop. At least, I think that’s the Pringles thing.” You’d always laughed that off, but now that it’s happened to you, it really is true. You wake up to it, you’re at it as soon as he’s finished his shift, just before you go to sleep. And then there’s the rest. Passing him while he’s working to sneakily grab, pinch or slap his ass cheek as you walk past, only for him to get his own back by “innocently cuddling” you from behind while also pressing himself against your own ass just once before placing a single kiss to your neck and running off. Your personal favourite is knowing all you have to do is send him a racy photo of you proving that you’re wearing one of his shirts and nothing else, and knowing that if you look out of the window you’ll see him running across the caravan park at top speed, leaping over any obstacle to then practically fly into his caravan and tackle you onto his bed.

You still try and maintain staying with Hayley for as long as possible, but with her being the evening entertainment, and her telling you that she was banning “all hanky-panky” at her place, that didn’t leave you with much else to do to spend your evenings than to hang out in Tom’s caravan with him, anyway. Not that she minded. Even when she would insist on a you-and-her day, it would mostly be to gossip about Tom, anyway.

There’s a few days when you start to wonder if perhaps Tom only wants you around for sex and nothing else. That all gets easily explained away when eventually Mother Nature clocks in for her monthly shift. You warn Tom that nothing can happen for the next week, and that you’ll probably just stay at Hayley’s again to avoid any stained sheets or exposure to sanitary products, but Tom remains as joined to your hip as ever. He buys heating pads, pain relief, snacks and drinks, extra products, anything you may need, happily letting you curl up in his lap in an attempt to soothe the cramps. A few days in, you even open up to him that you’d had doubts that he was only interested in getting into your pants, which results in many days’ worth of constant reassurance whenever you’re with him and texts of affirmations when you’re not. He certainly doesn’t turn down the gratuitous blowjob you give him as a result of being so patient on a night you know Hayley’s working especially late, though.

The last weekend of the last week of you being in Cornwall hits you like a brick wall. You’re constantly getting emotional, which only spikes every time you so much as look at Hayley or Tom. Tom reminds you that you’ll only see him in a couple of weeks anyway, once you move up north to university. And Hayley makes you both promise you’ll come back to Cornwall at every chance you can.

Tom meets you and your family in the car park of your uni halls, already waiting to help you move in. Both of your families have dinner together while yours are still in town, and as they part, they joke that the next time they’ll see each other is at your wedding. With your ex, even trying to plan to go to the same university together seemed daunting and unnatural. But you laugh along with Tom, safe in the knowledge that your collective parents’ joke is 100% truthful.

Age 19

After a year of university, you decide to move out of your dorm and into a place with Tom. Your first housemate, you love to remind him, though that spikes up a slightly more awkward conversation while cuddled up on the sofa. “So, we were first for a lot of things.”

“Well, yeah, that’s kind of our thing,” Tom teases.

“Piss off,” you scoff, elbowing him in the side as he laughs. “I mean, we were for pretty much everything, but not where it counts. You weren’t my first boyfriend, and I wasn’t your first, either. So, like, in terms of the way our relationship goes on through the years… I dunno, just sucks a bit that that’s like one of the only things we don’t have now.”

Tom deliberates for a second. “The way I like to see it,” he starts. “I consider you my first for a lot of sort of extraneous things, little things that add up to make us, us. But in terms of our relationship, it’s easy enough to explain.” You look over at him in confusion, and he takes the opportunity to take your chin between his finger and thumb to grin at you, pulling you close to mutter three words to you before pressing a long and sweet kiss to your lips: “You’re my only.”