TOM

I think Sam Levinson is out to torture me. That, or he is the devil incarnate and liked to torture everyone.

Let me backtrack a bit here, Sam got a call last week saying one of the actors in episode seven pulled out, and they had last minute interviews to cast someone as a replacement.

The character is basically one of Emilio's henchman type guys who Stella seduces at an event, drugs and then uses him for information. But there's a montage scene of them hooking up. Which means I have to watch my girlfriend hook up with someone on set, whilst I walk in and shoot him at the end.

And who do they cast? Take a wild guess.

So I get to set slightly later than them because my call time coincides after their scene. I go to hair and makeup, I get in costume and I wait behind the cameras to watch the son of a bitch take off Y/N's bra, cup her tits and make out with her.

Look, there's definitely scenes in the show that are a lot more graphic than that and luckily I'm the one doing them all with her. But this scene, no matter how short and quick, fucking got inside my head.

I watched them kiss and pull apart over and over again as Sam rearranged cameras and organised different shots. It kind of worked that I was getting angry watching because my character was supposed to storm in angrily and shoot him.

"Alright and scene! Perfect guys, just perfect... Okay Tom, I need to you storm through the house, camera six will follow you down the corridor, cock the gun, pull him off of her and press the gun to his head okay?" Sam called out, setting the cameras up as walked to my starting position.

Sam called action, I walked through the corridor with my jaw clenched, my hand tightly grasped around the gun as I walked up to the two making out on the bed. I pulled him off of her by his shoulder and pushed the gun against his forehead. Against Haz's forehead.

Sam called cut once more as he jumped onto set, high fiving us three and calling the directors assistant to bring Timmy down for his scenes. Despite the scene ending, my heart rate was still heightened and my muscles were tense just seeing my best friend and girlfriend hook up.

Yes, it was our job to act. And yes, Haz was an actor like the rest of us but for fucks sake could Sam have hired any other guy for this role? I left the set and entered my dressing room, pulling off my jacket and throwing it over the back of a chair, falling onto the couch and rubbing my face. I couldn't get the image out of my head. Did they enjoy it? Well I know Haz would have cos he's always said she was hot, but did Y/N like it? Was she turned on? Surely not.

Speaking of, Y/N knocked on the door of my dressing room, coming in and closing it behind her. She pulled a few clips out of her hair and placed them on the makeup table, telling me how much of a good job I did in the scene and how intense I looked.

"It just looked so authentic, I kind of got scared," she chuckled, sitting on the edge of the couch as I sat up.

"How was Harrison huh?" I murmured, not wanting to picture it any longer but needing the reassurance from her it was just acting and it wouldn't affect the way she saw him. I didn't want my best mate and my girlfriend ever looking at each other like that outside of filming.

"It was fun being on set with him," She smiled, not picking up on the fact I was insanely jealous.

"Did it turn you on?" I continued, moving closer to her and preparing myself for her answer.

"What? Ugh god Tom, no of course not," She huffed, sliding off the armrest and next to me on the couch. She grabbed both of my hands tightly and looked me in the eyes.

"It's acting, it's not real. The only person I kiss with actual arousal, is you and you only," She reassured me, making me lean back and pull her down with me.

"Prove it," I said deeply, grabbing her head and roughly kissing her, the intense jealousy and anger taking over me in an animalistic way.

It was messy and raw, not to mention completely thrilling and risqué hooking up like this at work. It made it all the more exhilarating thinking that at any moment someone could catch us.

My hands drifted up her thighs under her skirt, my index finger pulling her underwear to the side as inserted another into her.

"Being this wet already? It better be from me," I growled, flipping us over on the couch and pinning her down. She looked surprised, not really used to me being this dominant. We both switched dominance at home, we were pretty balanced; not today.

At this stage I was pumping two fingers inside of her, her eyes were shut and her head was tilted back against the cushion.

"Tell me darling, who makes you like this huh?" I smirked, watching her hips buck as I pushed my thumb against her clit.

She moaned my name loudly before I slammed my hand over her mouth, knowing the dressing room walls were incredibly thin.

"Love you need to be quiet for me, I know it's hard," I chuckled, kissing her neck messily as she whimpered against my palm.

I couldn't resist, with the risk of someone seeing us i needed to fuck her now or never. I pulled my trousers down slightly, just enough to slip my cock out. My hand moved from her mouth to caress her cheek as she looked at me.

"Tell me what you want darling," I smirked, always wanting her consent before we did anything but wanting to hear her beg for me to fuck her.

"I want you Tom, only you," she sighed breathlessly, before I pushed into her and groaned inside my mouth. Her soft lips parted slightly as she moaned again. She really did struggle keeping a low volume.

I pushed my hand against her throat, warning her to keep quiet or she wouldn't get to finish. Her legs were bent around me, her skirt flowing around her stomach as I thrusted into her, both of us knowing we wouldn't last long at all.

She bit her lip and closed her eyes as I tightened my grip around her neck, loving the angle this position gave me to watch her eyes flutter closed. I kissed her before she could start whimpering again, knowing that was her sign of climaxing shortly.

We moaned into the kiss repetitively as she came onto me, me thrusting a few times before pulling out and coming into my hand to avoid an awkward encounter with the costumer designers. I smirked at her laying on the couch, her hair a mess and her chest rising and falling with every breath as I washed my hands in the nearby sink.

"Fuck Tom, you really are the jealous type," she chuckled, pulling her skirt down back over her lap.

"Just needed to make sure you remembered who made you moan like that darling."