Tomtord Oneshots (Completed)

novel part 2

part 2 word count: 54,939

"I practically dreamt of touching you." He admitted, eyes flickering back up to focus on Tom's eyes, sliding his warm hands up Tom's sides, letting his hands rub circles onto Tom's stomach. "And I daydreamed a lot about watching you go red underneath me. I daydreamed a lot about the face you'd make during sex, I'd daydreamed about your body... I daydreamed about having you. But, more often than not, I'd daydream about kissing you." He placed a small peck on Tom's lips, tilting his head and fluttering his eyes closed gently, only to open them a moment later. "I daydreamed a lot about fucking you, but I daydreamed even more about having you as my own. About being able to kiss you whenever I liked, seeing your body, cuddling with you, you cuddling into me, pulling you into my lap..." he let out a small sigh as he smiled. "Hell, at first I hated the thought of having a child. But the more I thought about you, the more I realised that... I do want a child. I do want a child and I want to raise one with you."

Tom was steadily growing more and more red as Tord spoke, staring down at Tord's chest, once again refusing to meet the Norwegian's gaze, eyes wide.

His heart was beating rather quickly— a tiny bit of fear creeped up his neck at the chance of Tord being able to see his heart beat.

"I... I'm glad I changed your mind," he mumbled, moving one hand up to cover his face.

One day, Tord's affectionate nature would cause Tom to explode from embarrassment.

Tord chuckled gently.

"We'll get the promise rings tomorrow— right now, you're still in pain. I can tell." He spoke gently. "Let's hope tomorrow's just as bad as a snow day as today. I don't have many lessons with you tomorrow and I'd hate the thought of you constantly wincing in pain." The Norse explained with a soft smile on his face.

"Can you imagine me constantly talking to you like that? And when we have our daughter, she'll groan and tell me to stop as you have your hands over your face. I'll laugh and she'll roll her eyes." Tord chuckled gently, nuzzling his face against Tom's as he leaned his forehead against the boy's, face warming and melting with adore for the Brit.

Tom let out a soft laugh. "You know, I might start telling you the same thing," he said teasingly, shifting to gently massage Tord's scalp. "I have a feeling she'll be done with your shit pretty early on." He laughed slightly. "And, yeah, I do hope it's a snow day tomorrow. I don't want to wear jeans." He groaned at the thought, eyes closing and nose scrunching up in distaste.

Tord nodded, humming in understanding. "Don't wear anything, then." He said, tugging on Tom's pants.

He didn't mean for it to sound sexual— it— it just came out like that, okay?

"Take these off; I'll get an ice-pack to help soothe the marks, alright?" The Norwegian spoke, sliding Tom off of his lap as gently as possible as he jogged to the kitchen, coming back with two, blue jelly-like ice packs.

He sat back down on the couch, placing them on the coffee table as he waited for Tom to strip.

Tom's cheeks were bright red by the time Tord had returned, the smile on his wiped away due to embarrassment. Eyes flickering up to Tord, he shifted slightly away from the Norwegian as he unbuttoned his jeans. He slid them off gently, wincing in pain as the rough material rubbed against the sensitive bite marks. He kicked the jeans off before turning back to Tord.

"This is good enough... right?" he asked meekly, eyes anywhere but Tord.

"Mmhm," Tord hummed, looking down at Tom's inner thighs as he lied Tom down, back against the couch as leaned forward just a bit, spreading Tom's legs apart before getting the ice packs, slowly pressing one against the horrible looking bite mark on Tom's inner left thigh, rubbing his hand up and down the top of the boy's left thigh to try and soothe him, eyes focused on the mark rather than Tom's face.