Work Text:
“Do you have any Christmas wishes?” She sat next to her husband, eyes focused on her dinner while he leaned back in his chair. Tommy was smoking a cigarette, not touching his dinner once as if his racing thoughts were fuel enough for his aching body.
“No.” The short reply made her roll her eyes, letting her gaze find his piercing one. For a moment, neither of them spoke, letting the tense silence linger before she murmured his name. It sounded more like a warning than a beg to keep speaking, but he didn’t give in.
“Tommy, could you focus on me instead of your work for one goddamn minute?” With a sigh, he inhaled the smoke of his cigarette one last time before pressing it out. He raised his eyebrows at her, waiting for (y/n) to continue. “Last year you got me all these presents, I want to gift you something useful for once. So, what do you wish for?”
“I have all I need, love.” His emotionless reply made her scoff, hands folded in her lap as if (y/n) had to stop herself from reaching out to shake him. She deeply exhaled, before picking up her napkin to clean the corners of her mouth.
“That’s bullshit and you know it. I had to listen to all these stories about gifts you got from women before me. And you can’t tell me one single wish? Do you know how that feels?” Tommy’s cold hand found her left one, he pulled it free to lace his own fingers through them.
“You’re healthy, just like our children, that’s all I want, love. I never cared as much about anyone as I care about you and our loves. Don’t turn this into something it isn’t.” He stood up before (y/n) got a chance to reply, cold eyes set on her husband whose words echoed through the room. And all she could do was watch him leave, murmuring something about coming home late.
…
Music filled the room, candles were flicking, while (y/n) was sipping on her drink. The children had gone to bed a while ago, exhausted after such a long day of celebrating Christmas with their family. Tommy was sitting next to his wife, eyes watching the candle light dance while smoking another cigarette.
“You know, since you didn’t ask for anything, I decided to take matters into my own hands.” (Y/n) placed the glass down, she rose to her feet to walk towards the book shelf. Tommy didn’t say anything, only watched her reach for something bigger she had wrapped, in the shape of a painting.
“A painting?” He chuckled while she walked back to him. Tommy kept the cigarette placed between his lips as she sat down next to him on the sofa. Slowly he reached for it, undoing her careful wrapping as if the paper was a gift itself. And then he froze, pupils slightly widening, eyebrows raised. “Fucking hell.”
“Do you like it?” Giddiness spread through her. (Y/n) watched Tommy take in the painting, the almost naked figure of his wife. His fingers darted out to trace the shapes, every single inch as if he had never seen her naked body before.
“Who painted it?” Jealousy dripped from his words, just enough to make (y/n) chuckle while she shook her head at him. She reached for the painting to lean it against the small table, making room for her on his lap to crawl into it.
“Do you remember how I told you about Gen’s art studio? She did it.” His hum made her roll her eyes, noticing how her husband was already distracted again. Cold hands moved up and down her thighs, pushing the satin fabric of her dress higher and higher, enough for him to reach the sweet spot between her thighs. “If I had known a simple painting would be enough for you to find me interesting again, I'd have asked Gen for it sooner.”
“Oi, shut it.” His hand came down on her thigh, just enough to make her laugh. “You know I’ll always find you interesting, you’re a fucking beauty, love.”
She pressed herself closer, forcing his hand to move again, disappearing inside her underwear to find her heat. (Y/n)’s head rolled back as he circled her pulsing bundle, making her feel his calloused fingertips against her skin, a sensation so familiar and yet so new. He touched her with just enough pressure, leaned back to fully admire his already trembling wife.
“Look at you, already done for your husband, eh?” Her eyes fluttered open to meet his, wanting to bite his smirk right off of his lips. Tommy kept circling her clit, drawing gasps from her whenever he moved faster, knowing how to tease his wife the right way.
“Done for a husband who hasn’t touched me in weeks.” Without replying to her sharp words, Tommy pushed a finger into her heat, making her gasp once more. He curled his finger effortlessly against her swollen spot, pushing her further towards the edge which seemed to call her name. “Tommy, I need it.”
“Sure you do, love.” Raspy chuckles made her roll her eyes, trying to bite back yet another sharp reply to focus on her arising high. Tommy’s finger fucked her closer and closer while his thumb didn’t dare stop moving. She could tell his gaze momentarily found its way back to her painting, staring at her naked frame as (y/n) shuddered on top of him.
She came with a cry, walls tensing around his finger, nerves buzzing for him only. Tommy kept fucking her, kept guiding her through her high as if she couldn’t find her way out of the hazy fog herself.
“The next time you forget to touch me for weeks, I’ll turn to Gen and let her finish the job herself.” (Y/n) jokingly mumbled the words, forehead pressed against his, all while Tommy pinched the inside of her thigh to make her squeal. He’d surely never go this long without touching her again.