Mornings Like This.

|| summary: tom waking you up in the best way.

|| author’s note: this was highly requested… thanks for the patience. :)

The tickle of hair being brushed behind your ear, caused you to slightly stir in sleep. Hot breath fanned your cool cheek, exposed ear and neck. Soft lips skim along your neck, the warm skin from the tip of a nose following in its slightly wet trail. Your eyebrows furrow briefly in response to being slowly pulled out of unconsciousness, yet your eyes remain closed and facial features are otherwise relaxed.

A delicate kiss is placed just behind your ear, and another on the lobe - before it’s gently tugged by teeth and taken into a warm, wet, and welcoming mouth. Low moans crawl their way up your throat, past the dryness of sleep, and nearly escape past your parted lips.

The sucking on your ear is accompanied with an acutely callus hand around your revealed waist, pulling at the hip to turn you. As you limply roll onto your back, the mouth moves with the motion, and releases your ear; kissing its way along your jaw. It travels from your chin, hovering over your lips briefly before kissing your eyelids, nose, and cheeks.

Two hands are now on either side of you, and the bed dips with the shifting weight above you. The sound of lips kissing and sucking at your neck, fill the otherwise silent room, and once those lips attach onto your sweet spot you instinctively respond vocally.

“Oh god,” you moan. It’s a rough, low, moan that’s come from deep within your throat. Naturally your head tilts back to give easier access to the spot that drives you crazy. Your eyelids flutter, and you trap your bottom lip underneath your top row of teeth.

“Mhm, is my girl finally awake?” A raspy voice mumbles against the skin of your neck, beckoning you to open your eyes. Initially flinching at the early morning sun, you blink a few times to adjust before focusing on the beautiful face hovering above yours. Tom’s skin was practically beaming from the golden glow of the sun, which highlighted his features and chestnut hair in the most spectacular way - making you feel less than adequate in contrast to him.

His head was tilted to the side in the most adorable Tom-kinda-way, and your lips curved up in a lazy smile. “There she is.” He approved, leaning down and kissing the corner of your mouth.

“Hi.” You cooed, reaching a hand up to brush his fallen curls off of his forehead. Surprising you, he takes your wrist in his hand and kisses your palm several times before releasing it. That same hand reaches down and strokes your cheek, running its knuckles along it.

“Sorry I woke you… you just looked so damn beautiful.” Tom sighs in awe. Hooking your arms around his neck, you chuckle through your nose. “You’re not too bad yourself, you know?”

Using your arms, you pull him down into a kiss. He leans into your mouth, adding more force to the kiss, and he slides his hands further up the bed so his body dips flush against yours. His tongue teases your lips, asking for permission, which you grant; almost immediately regretting doing so when you taste the minty freshness of his mouth in contrast to yours. Nevertheless, his tongue greedily spills into your mouth, tasting and exploring every inch of it. A small moan that he releases vibrates the inside of your mouth, erasing any preceding insecurities.

One of Tom’s hands slides down to your knees, separating them with a gentle push, and wedging his hips between your legs. His sweatpant-clad bulge presses against your clothed heat, and your hips respond immediately bucking up into it. Another moan falls into your mouth, which encourages you to continue grinding yourself into him.

His hips press roughly into yours, desperate for more contact, as you run yourself along his length; groaning loudly when your clit makes contact with his tip through the thin fabric of your panties. You break away from the kiss, gasping in precious air, as Tom busies himself with your neck - kissing you in the spots he had before. You can feel his growing erection underneath the concentration of your grinding, and the stutter of his hips tells you it’s driving him crazy.

“Jesus, I need you. Now.” Tom hisses, ripping away from your neck and sitting back on his knees. With one swift motion, he grabs the collar of his shirt and pulls it over his head, discarding it on the floor. Idly, you bask in the presence of the beautiful image that is a shirtless Tom, as his fingers hook into the sides of your panties, and pull them hurriedly down your legs, tossing them along side his shirt on the floor.

Shifting his sweats down enough to expose his erection, he resettles between your legs, aligning himself with your hips. Using one hand to hold himself up, the other guides himself into you, easily sinking in as deep as he can go - your body naturally welcoming him. “Mhmm, fuck.” You groan, reaching out and grasping onto his biceps, squeezing tightly.

Tom readjusts himself so his weight is proped onto his elbows, one of his hands grabs yours, intertwining your fingers, while the other cups your chin; angling you appropriately before kissing you with fever.

His thrusts are slow yet deep, and they manage to hit your g-spot with every precise motion. Using your free hand, you tangle your fingers in Tom’s hair - briefly noting and appreciating its natural, soft and sleek state - pulling roughly at the loose curls. He groans in response, pulling away from the kiss, resting his face in the crook of your neck which he bites softly.

Your eyes flutter shut, allowing you to become more heighten aware of the pleasure inside you, and your insides clench around Tom in response. He moans a faint “darling” into the soft skin of your neck, and lets out a brief spew of profanities as your legs, which are around his waist, begin to tremble.

“God, you’re so sexy-” he breathes, as he lifts his face to yours again, “even this early in the morning.” You can’t help but grin at the compliment, and kiss him everywhere on his face.

Tom’s hand that had found its way around your neck, squeezes it gently a few times, before falling down, trailing its fingertips over your smooth, senstitive skin until they reach your clit. Thrusting your hips in response, he begins circling it with enough needed pressure to send you over the brink of your orgasm.

It hits you like a tsunami wave, unexpectedly and harshly crashing over your entire body, causing your back to arch and toes to curl. Tom’s thrusts grow sloppy as he reaches his own climax, his grip on your hand tightening - knuckles a visible sheet of white.

“Oh, babe.” Tom sighs contentedly, collapsing onto of you, resting his forehead against yours. Your hand continues to run through his hair, soothing him into relaxation as the two of you catch your breath. You lay like this for what feels like an eternity, a peacefully perfect eternity that you’d die happy knowing you’d remain in forever.

Eventually Tom shifts, pulling himself out of you, causing you to wince slightly, and he takes his hand from yours, using it to brush hair stuck to your sweaty forehead back into place. “So pretty.” He whispers, almost absentmindedly, as he examines your face, his thumb stroking your cheek.

Both your hands fall to his cheeks, pulling him down into a slow, sweet, sensual kiss. “I love you.” You mumble against his lips. You feel his smile, before he pulls back to look at you, a grin splitting his face nearly into two.

“I love you too, princess. More than you know.” It’s such a sweet sentiment, you can’t help but giggle. Kissing him again, falling more and more in love with him every time you do so. You were in deep, and there was no way you could pull yourself back out, not even if you wanted to… especially if you had more mornings like this.

French Kisses.

|| summary: short blurb about french kissing tom!

|| author’s note: never forget the time when tom was asked to choose between french fries or french kiss, and homeboy said french kiss!

Never in your life, had you felt more relaxed. The sun was setting, casting a golden glow across the snow covered lawn, and the polished wood floor of the cabin you were staying at. Occasionally, the wood in the fireplace would crackle, causing splinters to fall out of order.

The warmth from the fire spread through the cabin, enclosing itself around you. After a filling gourmet dinner, that Tom had so graciously prepared for the two of you, you were snuggled against his side on the sofa. One of his hands stroked your hair rhythmically, while the other played with your fingers.

Your feet were tucked securely underneath him, and with your free hand you were drawing imaginary shapes on his clad chest. The two of you just lay there, in comfortable silence, while your food settled.

“Where did you learn to cook so well?” You asked, tracing the outline of his collarbones with your index finger. You could sense his smile.

“My dad’s a real good cook, so’s my mum, I guess I’ve just unintentionally picked up things over the years.” He responds after a beat, the vibration of his voice rattling underneath your ear.

“Well, dinner was delicious,” you mumble, lifting your head to kiss him, “thank you.” Placing a swift peck on his lips, you move to pull away, but Tom’s hand comes up to stroke your cheek - beckoning you for another kiss. “You’re more than welcome,” he murmurs against your lips, before pressing his into yours.

With each peck, your lips become harder to pull away, slowly molding together. Running his hand from your hair, down to the back of your neck, he holds you in place as your mouth opens wider for the kiss. Taking the invitation, he slides his tongue into your mouth, teasing its way along yours.

You moan quietly at the contact, and pull yourself so you’re almost completely on top of him, entangling your hands into his soft hair. Tentatively, your tongue slips out, and runs itself along his. This is not the first time you’ve kissed like this, but each time you still find yourself amazed by the fact, that he tastes every bit as good as he looks.

As your tongue massages against his, coaxing a few faint groans out of him, you feel him growing restless, as his hands snake down your body to grip your backside. Slowly shoving you over, so you’re on your back, Tom shifts so he’s hovering over you - never breaking the contact of the kiss. At this angle, his tongue is able to dive deeper into your mouth, and it does, sampling ever inch of you.

Tom’s kisses have always had a way of captivating you, it was if the world stopped and started with your mouth. His tongue could be so forceful, yet tentative. Slow, yet quick-paced and calculated. It knew its way around your mouth, and just what way to stroke you to have you putty in his hands.

In desperate need for air, you pull away from the kiss, and Tom occupies his mouth on your exposed neck. The sound of his lips suckling on your skin, and your labored breathing fill the silence in the room - adding to the intensity of the heat from the fireplace.

Your hands move into his hair, briefly urging him on, before running down his shoulders. Silently noting, and praising, the feel of them flexing underneath your palms. “Babe,” Tom breathes against your skin, “you’re so fuckingpretty.”

Wrapping your legs around his waist, you pull his body flush against yours, as his lips return their attention to your mouth. “I (kiss), love, (kiss), you, (kiss).” You whisper against his mouth, grabbing his bottom lip between your teeth and tugging it down gently.

“I love you too.” He grunts, before kissing you fervously - pouring all his need, appreciation, and love into it. As his tongue dances with yours, and his hips lightly grind into you, you can no longer contain the desire clawing it’s way through you.

Without breaking contact with his lips, you reach for the hem of his shirt and pull upwards; briefly parting from the kiss, so you can pull it over his head. Once his lips are back on yours, his hands find their way underneath your shirt, cupping your breasts through your bra.

“I think,” he exhales against your swollen lips, “it’s time for dessert.”

You smirk up at him, running a hand through his make out-tousled hair. “You’re in luck.” He smiles knowingly down at you. “Dessert is my specialty.”

|| summary: waking tom up in an extra special way ;)

|| author’s note: sorry i’ve been away for sooo long. school’s been hectic. hope you guys are still alive!

An impending call from your balder, had woken you up at 6a.m on one of the few saturdays you actually get off. The air was brisk from the balcony door, Tom had absentmindedly left open that night; making climbing out of the comfort of your warm bed, to satisfy your balder, all that more difficult.

Wandering back into the bedroom, you quickly slid underneath the sheets and snuggled into Tom’s warm backside, causing him to shift. “Christ, you’re freezing.” Tom grumbled out from the side of his pillow, slightly muffling his words.

“Not my fault you left the door open.” You retort, shivering against him, and tucking your feet securely underneath his legs. Sighing sleepily, Tom turns to face you, opening his arms and allowing you to crawl further into his warm embrace. His t-shirt clad chest, was a welcome contrast to the chilled blankets on your side of the bed, that had cooled in your brief absence.

Resting your head in the crook of his neck, Tom wraps his arms around you, stroking your backside lazily. “Sorry.” He mumbles drowsily. You kiss his neck in response, letting him know it’s okay. The flush you feel spread across his skin, under your lips, is an encouraging feeling; espically because it’s very apparent that he’s fallen back asleep - which means his body instinctively responds to your touch like this.

Biting your lip, you get an awfully delicious idea in your head. Despite the quiet snores now coming from Tom, you lean forward and begin kissing Tom’s neck - sucking at his sweet spot, which is just along his jugular. You feel Tom’s hips shift forward slightly, and he stirs, his faint snoring dissipating. While sucking, your tongue slips out and slides along his warm skin.

A low groan claws its way up Tom’s throat, begging to be released. “Darling,” Tom breathes, “what are y-you doing?” Pulling back slightly, you watch as Tom’s eyes flutter, but remain shut, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.

“Apologizing for waking you with my cold feet.” Returning your attention to his neck, you kiss along his adams apple, up to his jaw, then across it to his lips. His mouth had fallen open slightly, giving you easy access to his warm, wet mouth. Moaning in surprise, Tom’s soft lips move against yours, while his tongue slides out to meet yours, sliding against its sides - dancing with it.

You revel in what a good kisser he is, even this early in the morning, and slip your hands underneath his shirt; briefly massaging against his skin before pushing lightly, so he turns onto his back. Never breaking the contact of the kiss, you climb over his body, straddling his waist, while your tongues coax moans out of one another.

Tom’s hands instinctively reach out to grip your waist, squeezing your ass gently, before sliding up under your shirt to stroke your backside. Breaking away from the kiss for air, you allow Tom to busy himself on your neck; spreading wet, needy kisses along it, while you catch your breath.

“Sofucking beautiful. A damn angel.” Tom praises in between kisses, his lips quickly trailing back up to your mouth, desperate for more. Before his lips can meet yours, you begin sliding down his body, noting the feeling of his growing erection as you do so.

Hitching up his shirt, you begin kissing along his abdomen, working your way down to his pelvis. Tom shifts eagerly beneath your lips, anticipating what he knows is going to follow. Glancing up at him, you find his eyes on you, and his bottom lip caught between his teeth.

The look of hunger that’s spread into his, now, smoldering brown eyes, causes you to instinctively squeeze your thighs together - your own hunger sprouting up inside you.

Your lips dance their way across the waistline of his sweats, from hipbone to hipbone, beckoning him to squirm even more. Tugging his sweats down a tantalizingly short amount, you continue to kiss and lick your way across his v-line. As your eyes wander up to watch him, his head falls back, your hands begin massaging his thighs; just nearing his erection, but never actually touching it.

“Baby, please. Fuck.” Tom huffs, clearly riled up and even more yearnful for your mouth on him. Deciding on giving him what he wants, but making sure to tease him some more, you tug his sweats down to his mid thigh, and begin kissing your way back up them. Your hand reaches forward to cup his balls, massaging them in your hand.

“Holy,” Tom groans loudly, and throws his head back against the pillows with evident force. Your other hand comes up and strokes him gently a few times, before you lower your mouth and kiss his crown; then take him into your mouth - as far down as you can do. “Shit.” Tom seethes between clenched teeth, resisting the urge to buck himself further into your mouth.

Your head begins bobbing up and down on him, your free hand stroking what you can’t take in your mouth, while the other comes up to his thigh in attempt to steady yourself on him. Pulling your lips back, you very lightly graze your teeth along him, mixing that sensation with the soft swirl of your tongue. Tom’s hips buck in response, pushing him to the back of your throat, a spurt of precum releasing in response.

“Sorry, sorry. Fuck, just, oh my god- just do that again. Please.” Tom whimpers, his hands fisting into the bedsheets. You comply, repeating the process multiple times. Tom growls low in his throat, as he tries to contain his moan.

Pulling him out of your mouth briefly, you lick up the sides of him, from the base to the tip. “Tom, I wanna hear you.” You coo, hesitating to pull him back into your mouth. “Okay?”

He nods, eyes closed and head thrown back, his knuckles a white sheet as he waits for you to continue. “Okay.” He pants, shifting beanthe you. Grabbing one of his hands, you lift it up to your hair. “It turns me on when you pull it.” You murmur, peaking up at him through your lashes.

He smirks down at you, holding your stare as you pull him back into your mouth. As you continue the same process as before, Tom’s hand intermediately tugs your hair, roughly pulling at the roots; in response to your steady pace.

Helping guide you, he finds a desirable pace and continues to hold your head steady while he slow slides himself in and out of your mouth; watching you the entire time.

“So good,” he pants, “you… your mouth is so fucking good.” His pace quickens as he feels himself nearing the edge, and you support yourself on his thighs with both hands.

“God, of fuck, yes.” Tom’s hips sloppily ride himself through his orgasm as he cums in your mouth. Desperately trying to swallow all of it, you pull him out of your mouth and lick him clean.

Before you can wipe your mouth, Tom pulls you up his body by your shoulders, and kisses you headily. His tongue not hesitating to slip into your mouth, despite him begin able to taste himself. “You are perfect.” He praises against your lips, causing you to smile. “I try.”

You slide off him, laying on your side next to him, while he pulls up his sweats. “Well, one things for damn sure.” He breathes, turning to face you. “And what’s that?”

“That’sone hell of a way to be woken up.”

Kissing you.

okay but nothing attracts me more than the idea of just kissingtom.

• those quick kisses tom would give you in random moments of the day, for no other reason, other than he lovesyou.

• he’d always have a hand on your cheek, no matter where the other would fall;

• your ass, the small of your back, cupping the back of your neck, your waist, stroking your thigh, or the he’d lightly skim over your neck - squeezing a few times. phew.

• the hand on your check would stroke over it with his thumb or knuckles.

• he’d occasionally lower it to cup your chin - controlling the kiss.

• anytime he’d say ‘i love you’ or vise versa, it would beckon for morekissing.

• those kisses were always slow and sensual.

• starting off with just a few pecks, then your lips would be harder to pull apart as they start to mold together.

• as your lips open and sucked around each other’s, his tongue would continuously dip into your mouth, teasing you with it’s warmth and flavor.

• tom’s kisses are always so calculated.

• no matter if you guys are slowly or roughly making out, he’d never get salvia around your lips.

• his tongue is never confused as to where to go, his teeth never clash against yours, and it never feels rushed.

• despite never wanting the kisses to end, tom would eventually need air, but his mouth would always find it’s way to another part of your body in the meantime.

• usually it was your neck, but sometimes he’d surprise you by kissing behind your ear, or your cheek, or your jaw, or your forehead.

• his skilled mouth, knew its way around your body and exactly where it could touch, in order to make your body melt.

• tom loved rough kisses with you too.

• he liked teasing you by biting your lip, and skimming his tongue along yours, to get you riled up.

• you’d start to get needy, and would shove your tongue in his mouth.

• this would always cause him to chuckle into the kiss, vibrating the inside of your mouth, which is such a turn on.

• the boy’s french kissing skills are insane.

• his tongue would massage against yours just enough to keep you guessing. finding a rhythm that suited you, and coaxes moans out of you with it’s soft flicks and rubs.

• your hands were always in his hair.

• or on his ass, or under his shirt, or underneath his arms to grasp his shoulders, or on his biceps.

• but at least one hand was in his hair.

• there was always some grinding involved in tom and your’s make out.

• even if you guys weren’t planning on fucking.

• his body rested against yours on the couch, his hips lightly digging in yours - enjoying the pressure of your pelvis underneath him.

• he also loved having you on top during make out sessions.

• you either hold yourself up above him using two arms, and straddling him.

• when you were in this position, you would always tease him by leaning down just enough to hover over his lips and pull back every so often so he contasntly has to fight to kiss you.

• or you’d have the whole length of your body stretched out along his - resting completely on top of him.

• when you were in this position, his hand(s) would always skim down your back, lightly skimming over your exposed skin from your shirt riding up a bit.

• post sex kisses were amazing!! some of best, man. damn.

• tom’s forehead would be rested against yours as he desperately tries to catch his breath, but even still he’d (every so often) lean down and kiss you sweetly.

• he’d also lean up and kiss your forehead, your eyelids, your nose, your cheeks, and back to your lips.

• or if his face had fallen to the crook of your neck while having sex (which it usually did - so he could focus better!!) then he would pepper kisses up from your neck to your lips.

• lot’s of open mouthed kisses so his tongue could slip out to tease and taste your skin.

• now kisses on your body/during sex is a whole other story.

• if you thought homeboy’s tongue had skill before, you can’t even imagine what he could to your body with it.

• especially when it’s between your thighs ;)

• but that’s for a whole other post…

i know i’m a tease, fight me <3

for one of my favorite blogs at the moment (and forever) -

@hufflepuffholland hope you enjoy!

|| summary: tom holland would be such a hypeman, don’t fight me on this!

|| author’s note: requested by multiple anons - enjoy <3

• whenever and wherever you go, you love to capture all your moments and the things you see.

• including you in front of those things/places.

• the only person who loves to capture those moments, more than you, is tom.

• like he lovesit.

• “baby, can you take a picture of me?”

• “fuck, yes. give me that.” he’d say grabbing your phone from your extended hand.

• as soon as you’d start to pose, compliments would begin spilling out of tom’s mouth.

• “damn, baby.”
• “whoISshe?”
• “fuck,yes!”
• “do that hair thing that you do - ah, yes. there it is.”
• “that’smy pretty girl.”
• “that’smy beautiful girl.”
• “move your head the other way. oh my god.”
• “mhm, darling. dayum!”
• “blow me a kiss. shit. i’m one lucky bastard.”

• tom would always call these things out in public places, so that anyone with in earshot would turn to stare at you as tom continues snapping photos.

• and he always caught the best angles, lighting, and pose. his pictures were always instagram worthy.

• speaking of instagram, he’d hype your ass up there too.

• whenever you’d post a selfie, tom would consistently comment on them.

• if you post a smiling selfie, or a picture where you look happy, tom would fill your comment section with numerous flirts.

• “wow, look at how beautiful my girlfriend is”
• “look at that smile, holy crap”
• “that’s my baby❤️❤️”
• “can i have your number??”

• now, if you posted a sexy/scantily clad picture, tom would absolutely go crazy.

• “woah”
• “how did i get so lucky”
• “selfie game is too much”
• “missing you even more now ;)”

• these comments would always beckon more people to come to your page, and therefore more comments to spill into your posts.

• thisdefinitely helped boost your ego.

• whenever tom was away, and you were feeling cute, (with or w/o makeup) you’d send tom multiple selfies over message/snapchat.

• sometimes he’d say some cute ass shit.

• those messages always made you smile.

• “i miss seeing that smile everyday.”
• “my girlfriend is the most beautiful woman in world.”
• “shit, why do you even like me?”

• other times he’d say some fuckboyshit.

• “mhm, show me more”
• “facetime me. now. i wanna see more.”
• “yes pretty girl. fuck me.”
• “i can’t wait till i’m home…”

• no matter what, you could always count on tom to hype you up and make you feel good about yourself.

• it was worth even more, knowing that you truly meant everything he said.

• because damn, was that boy fucking in love with you.

I miss you, kinda sex. - Tom Holland Imagine.

|| summary: reunion or ‘i miss you’ sex with tom!!

|| author’s note: mainly lots of smut, but also lots of fluff

• because of tom’s hectic work schedule; there’s lots of reunion sexual endeavors.

• sometimes the sex is quick, heated, and rough.

• that’s when you know he’s really been missing your body, and that part of the relationship.

• that kinda sex usually consists of orgasm denial(from him), hair pulling, fast thrusts, hickeys, and nail marks.

• it usually happens anywhereandeverywhere because tom can’t keep his hands off of you!! i.e. bathrooms, restaurants, cars, the doorway of your apartment, you name it - yes.

• but sometimes the sex is very slow and superpassionate.

• that kinda sex consists of so many kisses, hand holding, ’i love you’s, and very slow builds to your orgasms.

• that’s when you know he’s completely savoring it.

• when it comes to this sex, he usually makes both of you wait. you’ll spend the whole day together - catching up, hanging out with friends/family, and finally at the end of the day he’ll take his girl home and make love to every inch of her body!!

• you love rough tom - you’re not fooling anyone - but slow sex with him is your favorite!!

• he’s always so tender and heedful. his eyes are unwavering from yours, and his mouth knows no bounds - kissing you everywhere.

• his favorite place to kiss you, while he’s inside you(besides your lips!!), is just behind your ear, down to your neck.

• the feeling of your pulse beating, gasps of air sliding down your throat, and sweat raising to the surface of your neck - all beneath his lips; is such a turn on for him!!

• he also loves kissing and sucking in your sweet spots, because he loves watching you squirm and feeling your insides tighten around him in response.

• slow sex also consists of switching positions/you riding him.

• to say, he loves seeing you on top of him, would be a colossalunderstatement.

• one minute, he’d be above you, thrusting slowly, and then he’d suddenly flip onto his back - pulling you on top of him. (never breaking his contact inside you either!!)

• “ride me, darling.” was all he’d ever need to say before you’d starting grinding your hips on top of him.

• seeing as he’s always in control during rough sex, he usually let’s you take the reins in this position. unless you start going to fast, in which case he grabs your hips and slows you.

• “slow, pretty girl. go slow. savor how good it feels.”

• seeing him underneath you; his eyes on you, his mouth open slightly as he gasps quietly, and his hips coming up to meet yours was enough to send you over the edge - always.

• lot’s of aftermath cuddles!!

• like always.

• his hands would comb through your hair, as your head lay on his chest, while you two talked about your adventures apart - even though almost all of the stories being heard were retold; neither of you cared. you just loved hearing eachother talk.

• now… rough sex was a totally different story.

• so much dirty talk, slamming against walls/clear surfaces, and ripping of clothes.

• especially when tom would be coming home from the airport in his grey sweats - bigmistake.

• “easy, love. you’re going to rip them.” tom would warn, as you practically mauled him out of his sweats.

• considering tom, almost on a regular basis, ripped through your panties(even your favorite pairs)whenever he’d want to make things quicker - you wouldn’t care.

• you’d practically lose your mind whenever tom would come home and completely attack you - not even so much as a ’hello’.

• his hands would be all over you, ripping apart your clothing - sending buttons flying and pushing you onto a nearby flat surface(which was usually a kitchen countertop or the couch).

• his mouth always found its way between your thighs, before going anywhere else. he loved kissing you there.

• making sure to tease you as much as possible, he’d constantly keep on the edge.

• “have you missed this?” tom would say mockingly, the heat of his breath tickling you.

• most of the time your answer was incoherent - just whimpers and nods.

• even so, you’d have to beg him to let you cum before he’d ever satisfy you.

• but rough sex with tom is great, because he’s usually the most calm afterwards.

• it’s always a complete180.

• “so, do you want to get something to eat? because i’ve just worked up an appetite.” he’d ask casually, after he just fucked your brains out on the sofa.

• still, even though rough sex is rough. tom is constantly aware and knows what lines you won’t allow him to cross.

• he loves you - so no matter what, sex is about that.

basically reunion(as any other kind of)sex with tom is amazing and would be unforgettable!!

Take a break.

|| summary: in which tom helps the reader to destress from her hectic school work.

|| author’s note: smut & filth, y’all already know my brand loooool + sorry it’s been soooo long, yikes.

warnings: this au features aggressive, but totally consensual nsfw content… read at your own discretion, please.

Strained red eyes and tight back muscles begged for any form of alleviation, but the intermittent shifting of positions was providing you with enough comfort to keep the driving pain at bay. Still, it was becoming increasingly more difficult to remain focused on your school work; primarily so, when Tom walked through the bedroom door in nothing but low-hanging sweats. The smug smirk he offered was a pleasant sight, especially when paired with glorious image of his naked chest. It glistened with droplets of water, shimmering and reflecting off the sun rays spilling in from the open balcony door — silently thanking yourself for opting on natural light.

“Still at it, huh?” He gives you a pitiful half-smile, running a free hand through his damp curls.

You nod, forcing your gaze away from his muscular torso and back to literary works of Charles Dickens — eyes trained to the pages of Bleak House,with your attention anywhere but.

Spotting him moving in your peripheral, half of his blurred figure peaking out over the bridge of your book, the bed soon dips as he sits opposite you. Fresh from shower his smell is intoxicating, and nearly impossible to resist. Nearly. Tenacity for finishing your assignments, outweighing the desire scratching between your legs.

Without a word, he leans forward, curious wet lips brushing the exposed skin of your shoulder, trailing open mouthed kisses up to the curve where bone met soft tissue. As each warm, gentle touch teased its way up your neck, the focus that was on the words below you faltered, eyelids growing heavy as your tense state melted into the familiarity of his mouth.

“I think,” he suggested between kisses, his words muffled into the crook of your neck, “you need to relax.” The rasp of his voice beguiled the lust sprouting in your core, your better judgement rapidly losing traction against the hot breathe now fanning over your ear. “‘Bout time, innit love?”

With your eyes closed, tongue caught between your teeth, you were nearly there — but the rational part of you was not silenced yet, and it was aggressively gnawing away your lust-fogged inability for discernment. “I can’t.”

Sighing reluctantly, you attempted to shrug him off, nudging him slightly with your shoulders. A dissatisfied groan leaves him, passing past his lips and onto the spot he’d just been nipping at, below your ear. “Seriously?” He questions, half serious.

Turning to face him, you nod furiously, your eyes flicking between his tousled curls and the paper work spread across your lap — both in dissary. “I can’t just stop working, I’m really close to finishing this paper, and if I stop now I don’t know if I’ll have the energy to start back up again and—“

“—okay, you need to shut up.” The rest of your incessant rambling is stopped, abruptly cut off by the palm of Tom’s hand which has forcefully clamped down over your mouth — your sentence falling into his skin, becoming muffled and incoherent. Keeping your head positioned so your eyes are on him, he cups the back of your neck with his free hand to hold you in place. “Here’s what’s gonna happen,” he starts, eyes of brown swirls boring into yours with unwavering intensity, “you’re gonna stop working, and take a break.”

Leaning his weight into you, he forces you onto your back, your head hitting the pillows with a light thud. The softness of the mattress envelops you under his force, your sore muscles screaming with relief. “You’re not gonna think about your work,” The hand on the back of your neck falls to your lap, grabbing your spread of papers and tossing them to the floor in one swift motion.

“Hey—” You grumble a faint protest into his hand, interrupted by the exclamation of his fingers’ grip.

“—I said shut up,” his jaw is tight, eyes narrowed in agitation, “didn’t I?” With the absence of papers clustered on your thighs, he nudges his way between your legs, spreading them effortlessly with his hips. Noting the feeling of his bulge against you, you nod timidly, your breathing gradually pacing out. “You’re just gonna close your eyes,” he picks up from where he left off earlier, “and feel me. My touch.”

Taking the acute shifting of your hips towards his as an answer, he brings his fingers up to his lips, pulling the index and middle into his mouth. You watch as he lubircates them with gentle sucking and flicks of his tongue, the sight causing your insides to clench in anticipation. “Just let me do all the work, pretty girl. Close your eyes and spread ‘em wider for me, yeah?”

As his fingers trailed down your torso, you obliged, spreading your legs as wide as they’d go, and shutting your eyes. Propping himself onto one forearm, he lifts his hips away from yours, providing enough space for his arm to fit between your bodies — his fingers dipping into the lace waistband of your panties. The warm, wet touch of his digits against your slick folds caused your back to arch, pressing your clothed body into his bare chest.

“Jesus,” the word drags out, past his shallow gasp, “this all for me?” Before he’d even touched you, a dampness had grown between your legs at the sight of him, his fingers now running along its evident effect. Pursing your lips against his palm, you nodded, allowing a faint whimper to escape you as his middle finger now dragged lazy circles over your clit. With his forearm pressed against your stomach, the constant flex and relaxation of its muscles, and his two fingers now dipping inside you — it wouldn’t be long.

The length and slenderness of his digits, allowed them to make quick and effortless contact with your g-spot, as they bottomed out before curling. Lips parted and wet against his palm, you allowed a spew of moans to pour into the skin of his hand, nearly thankful that it provided you with a comfortable barrier to cry freely into. “‘Like that, sweet girl?” Tom’s lips brushed along your ear, teeth grazing your lobe, “you like it when my fingers are deep inside your pretty pussy, don’t you?”

Only being able to respond with muffled noises falling from your mouth, he took the gentle bite to his palm as a gesture of agreement. His apparent smirk curved against your jaw before he took the lobe of your ear into his mouth, sucking softly on the smooth skin. As his fingers continued to run themselves along your walls, pumping into you at a deliciously slow pace, he brought his thumb to your clit — the two sensations, added with bites and kisses he placed along your neck, created a heady combination, that brought you to the edge quicker than expected.

“Gonna come for me, yeah?” He didn’t need a response, already recognizing the telltale groans beneath his palm and the contracting of muscles around his fingers. Your wetness had become audible, as he quickened his pace, flicking his wrist aggressively. Thighs clenching around his hand, hips bucking to meet his fingers, and head pressed forcefully against the pillows; you were in euphoria. As his thumb added pressure to your clit, precisely timing it with his two other fingers motions, you were crashing over the edge.

“That’s it, love,” he groaned into your ear, “come all over my fingers.” His hand tightened over your mouth as you met your release, a string of profanities and his name falling into it.

Blinking your eyes open, you exhaled through your nose forcefully, struggling to catch your breathe without using your mouth. Met with adoring, but hungry eyes and a lazy smirk, you couldn’t help smile under his hand. Pumping his fingers a few more times before removing them, he brought them to his lips, pulling them into his mouth as he had before; closing his eyes briefly as they were sucked clean. “You never disappoint,” he hummed appreciatively, removing his hand from over your mouth, “do you, pretty girl?”

Blushing, you smile at him coyly, reaching up to push his curls off his forehead, “could say the same about you, Tommy.” He was radiating smug, boyish confidence as he leaned down to kiss your waiting lips - tender from their restraint against his palm. The kiss was slow and sweet, his tongue dipping into your mouth, stained in your flavor mixed with his own. Pulling back to run the bridge of his nose along yours, he sighed contentedly.

“Guess I should let you get back to it.”

You shook your head, a hand cupping the back of his neck; after having had a taste you craved more. Tilting his head to the side, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “but I thought said that you needed to finish your paper today, otherwise your professor would only give you half—“

“—okay you need to shut up.” You interjected, echoing his assertion from before as your hand came up to cover his mouth. Surprised, you felt his grin against your palm, and although you feigned a cool resolve, your eyes were alight with humor. Using your body weight, you pushed him onto his back beside you, hand remaining over his mouth as you moved to straddle his parted legs.

“Now, here’s what’s gonna happen.”

Mistakes Like This. Mob!Tom Series

|| summary: originally paid to be an escort for the notorious mob family, the hollands, the reader and tom meet which embarks them on a very precarious relationship that threatens everything tom and his family have built.

|| author’s note: this is really really long, sorry but i had to set the mood for the story ya know? if you enjoyed, and want me to continue, let me know.

• warnings: this story will contain smut, violence, lanaguage, and other heavy themes so read at your own risk!

TEASER

Chapter 1 — The Meeting

“No way. No way in hell.” You shake your head aggressively, pushing the thick fluorescent-yellow envelope back to the other side of the table.

“Girl, this is fast, easy money. A crap ton of money.” Your friend, Danielle broached desperately from her chair opposite yours. Using the term ‘friend’ tentatively, because the only thing the two of you have in common is this side business you do on occasion to make ends meet.

“Having rich, old, lonely men take me on fancy dinners is one thing. But going to a party with some of the most dangerous people in the city, possibly even in the country, that’s on a whole other level.” You flatten your lips in defiance, your disposition cementing as Danielle struggles to find a rhyme or reason for you to participate in tonight’s event.

“Look, it’s just one night and you don’t have to fuck anyone you don’t want to, same as before. You’re just there to look pretty on some big shots arm, and then your rent,” she waves the envelope at you, “is paid in full for the next few months. Easy.” Resting your elbows on the table, you place your head in your hands, and sigh heavily. The slight shift in your demeanor is taken as a sign of vulnerability, and Danielle uses it as an opportunity to play on your emotions. “I really need this money, but I don’t want to go into this party without at least a familiar face to keep me company.”

Peaking at her through your fingers, you note that she has on her best pleading face, and her bottom lip is curved out into a prominent pout. Exhaling a long exasperated breath, you concede, reaching for the money. “Fine, but I’m not going to become some personal prostitute for the Holland family. We clear?” Her face splits into a shit-eating grin, and she nods enthusiastically. “Crystal.”

Just like that, you’d signed yourself away for a night with the most notorious crime family in modern London history; which was probably more dangerous and reckless, than if you’d agreed to sign your soul away to the devil - except the devil wouldn’t pay as well as the Hollands did.

“Oh, and there’s a certain dress code you have to follow tonight, so be sure to pick up your dress from this place.” Danielle extends a wrinkled paper to you, with numbers scribbled on it. You eye it with uncertainty, but take it nonetheless, typing the address into your phone. “I’ll call and tell them you’re in, see you tonight. Driver will be there at 7 sharp.” She beams, her giddiness evident in her near-skip as she walks to the door.

When Google Maps loads to the location, your jaw pops open, and you glance around the room in shock as if anyone else could see what you’re looking at. The directions had opened to the most expensive designer dress store in the entire city and as much as you hated to admit it, your curiosity was peaked. As was your interest in tonight’s event, and its host.

__________________________________________

The dress was stunning, as it should be for its pretty price, a delicate satin shade of pearl-white colored its surface. Its thin straps clung tightly to your shoulders, allowing the otherwise loose material to hang promisingly over your assets. It was as if the gown had been tailored to fit you like a glove, clinging to you in just the right ways, and amplifying the tone of your skin with its illuminating color.

Your eyes scanned over the figure reflected in your bathroom mirror, stunned by every intricate detail that had been woven into your final appearance. For your face, you’d kept it simple, not wanting to draw too much attention to yourself, by highlighting your features in the most natural way possible. However, for your lips you’d chosen a radiant red, amplifying their curves and plumpness. As for your hair, a simple updo sufficed in order to expose your long neck and the lace-tied back of your dress.

The time read 6:58, and with one final glance at yourself in the mirror, you moved to head down stairs. Just as you grabbed your clutch purse, there was a forceful knock at the door that caused you to jump slightly in surprise. Checking through the peep hole, you discovered a blonde man dressed in a perfectly tailored black and white suit; your driver, you presumed. Timidly, you opened the door, taking a small cautious step back at the looming figure before you.

“Miss (y/l/n),” he greeted coldly polite, his striking blue eyes piercing into yours, “I’m Mr. Osterfield. I will be your driver for the evening.” His name was Harrison, you’d come to recognize him as the Holland’s right hand man; wherever they seemed to go, he was sure to follow close behind. “How did you know my room number?” You question, your eyes racking up and down his body in acute suspicion.

“The receptionist in the lobby gave it to me.” He responds flatly, bored with the indifferent curiosity presented in your demeanor. “That’s confidential information, he wouldn’t of just given it to you.” You retort, the underlying accusation in your tone breaks his stiff features for a split second, a smirk creeping at the corners of his lips. “I can be very persuasive when I need to be.” The glimmer in his eyes sends warning sirens off in your brain, alerting to you the justifiable apprehension spreading in the pit of your stomach. “Come, we don’t want to be late.” He offers you his arm, which take after another moment of silent contemplation, wondering if you’d just made a terrible mistake.

__________________________________________

The building was magnificent, every detail precisely and intricately molded into place to form the entire mansion. The walls were painted with decorative colors of gold and white, which made them cold yet alluring at the same time. The marble floor was waxed to perfection, making it almost painful to walk on, afraid to dirty or smudge it. With high ceiling and vast corridors, the shuddering sense of small inadequacy in comparison was palpable; making you all the more uneasy. Harrison had stayed by your side, escorting you through two doorways, before reaching a large, remarkably crowded room. It was alight with music, idle conversations, and a few staggeringly uneasy laughs.

As you entered into the room, the noise was brought to a dismal spew of hushed voices, as most eyes turned to you. No doubt captivated by your dress and unfamiliar face, peaked with lustful curiosity. For the first time since you left the apartment, you’d silently wished that Harrison had stayed by your side; suddenly feeling unprotected. In desperate need of a distraction, you busied yourself by scanning the room for Danielle’s olive face. For a change, seeing it would be a rare pleasantry; one you’d be more than happy to take full advantage of. Unable to spot her, you timidly walk towards the bar, unsure of what to do with yourself, but wanting nothing more than be away from the doorway, and the center of everyone’s attention.

This was your first time being thrown blindly into a room with more than one potential client, and knowing that every one of them is more dangerous than they appear, only fueled your apprehensions. Before the well-dressed bartender could pay you any mind, seeing as he was currently being hassled about some drink mishap, a broad middle-aged man takes the available seat opposite you. Instinctively, your eyes flicker over to meet his, and you almost immediately regret doing so. There’s no name to the face, but it’s all too familiar. You’d seen this man on the news serveral times, and not because he was being applauded for his acts as good a samaritan.

Mainly, it was speculation as to whether or not he was connected to the latest crime; robbery, political bribery, or murder. From the impression you got, he had at least one hand in every politicians cookie jar, leading you to believe that he was probably more powerful and influential than most people in this room. But even so, there was one person who he still answered to, and that was Hollands. The thought alone, terrified you.

In hopes to avoid conversation, you ripped your eyes away from his, drawing your gaze back towards the preoccupied bartender. Though your eyes were elsewhere, you weren’t blind to the presence next to you. From what you’d seen, he was dressed in a designer black and purple tinted suit, with a sapphire colored handkerchief and undershirt. His jet black hair was slicked back, flattened against the top of his head, and he had serveral rings on. However, the detail that struck you the most, was his electric green eyes; the stare behind them was intense and harsh. They were not a welcoming or calming shade or green, more of a warning color; the kind that alerted you to the type of man you were dealing with - one who was not to be tussled around.

“My, my. Someone’s rude.” His clipped tone rang clear through the air, scratching its way along your skin, before biting into your ear. It was difficult to remain, or appear to be, calm and collected; unfazed by his threatening attitude. Nevertheless, you exercised your strong will and backbone, turning to face him with a polite smile. “Pardon me, I didn’t mean to offend you.” Extending your hand out to him, you tilt your head to the side in welcome, hoping it will calm the rage burning his glare.

His eyes don’t falter from yours as he takes your hand, shaking it slowly. The skin is surprisingly rough, the tops of his hands hairy with age, and the warmth in his grasp is unsettling. He shakes your hand for too long, as if to drag out the experience, in hopes to subdue you with its evident intimidating-effect over you. Eventually, he pulls his hand away from yours and uses his free fingers to stroke along the corners of his mustache.

“You know, you’re the first girl to show up tonight. I’m not sure how the others expect to top this.” He gestures to your body with his free hand, his eyes following it, unabashedly racking up and down your figure. “I think they’ll manage to surprise you.” You smile tightly, tempted to turn back around, but the unsurness of what would happen if you did, stops you.

He shakes his head, dismissing himself from deep thought, a faint hum falling from his parted lips. “Don’t know how Tom expects me to fucking wait,” he growls under his breath, closing his eyes briefly, before opening them with a newfound determination, “screw it.” He grasps your wrist tightly, taken by surprise it outweighs the pain from his grip, your feet barely keeping up with him as he practically drags you into the crowd.

Blinking at his back, your mouth is open, ready to protest but having no idea what to say or how to articulate it into words. You’re here, being paid as an escort, so you’re not exactly in a position to say no. This had never happened to you before, the men you’d been out with never asked for anything more than a kiss on the cheek at the end of a very expensive dinner, that they had paid for. Danielle had said you didn’t have to fuck anyone you didn’t want to, but you were now getting the feeling that that’s what it meant on paper, not necessarily what was actually going to happen. How exactly did she expect you to turn down the most notorious mobsters in London; if they wanted to take you, they were going to. But, you’d be damned if you’d go quietly.

Tugging on his grasp, you manage to loosen it enough to free your wrist, ignoring the sting from your skin burning as you straighten your posture - tightening your hands around your purse in attempts to reign in control over them. “What do you think you’re doing?” His head whips around to face yours, and if looks could kill. Narrowing your eyes at him, you flatten your lips in defiance, taken slightly aback by his gaul.

“No, what do you think you’re doing?” Your comment is only mildly assertive, not wanting to anger him more than he appears to be now. “I’m not being paid to allow you to do with me as you please.” His mouth falls open, shocked more than anything else, and he chuckles bitterly. “You’re a whore, who’s being paid to make sure that I’m satisfied. And taking you to my limo, then fucking you senseless, would beyond satisfy me.” As his hand reaches for you again, you step back, feeling a muscular arm wrap around your waist as you do so. Turning your head, your heart drops to the pit of your stomach, eyes widening as your jaw pops open.

The man beside you is none other than Tom Holland, the youngest and newest king of the Holland family business. The whisperings you’d heard of him were no better than the man across from you, but knowing that he was the one behind the curtain, pulling all the strings; orchestrating every crime these men were committing, was enough to send shivers up your spine. Nearly trembling in his loose grasp, he skates his thumb soothingly over the exposed skin at the back of your dress, the contact causing you to verbally gasp.

“Tony,” Tom address flatly, “what’s going on here?” He’s yet to look at you, but his side features are unmistakably tense. His jaw is tight and his eyes are narrowed, all of his attention aimed at Tony; who’s now practically shaking under the scrutiny. “Mr. Holland, I apologize if I made a scene-”

Tom stops him with a simple, but swift, wave of his hand, shaking his head slightly. “I didn’t ask for an apology. I asked what was going on.” The menacing inflection in which he spoke, sent clear signals that he was someone who, when demanding something, better be met with no resistance or sorry excuses. “Sir, I was just, she- we- I, was taking her to- we were only going to be gone a few moments.”

You had to admit that it was immensely satisfying to watch a once seemingly unstoppable force, fluster over himself in fear; like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar. The irony causes you to smile slightly. “Tony, you are a guest in my house, as is this lovely woman, and I expect that my guests are treated with respect. That includes respecting one another. Now, no matter what way you try to spin it, there is no excuse for touching her the way you did, and I find it extremely rude that you placed your hands on my escort, disobeying my specific instructions. Now, I want you to leave.”

Tony has fallen silent, clinging to Tom’s every word, nodding his head in quiet obedience before quickly leaving without another comment. The power that Tom wields over these tycoons is astonishing, and you can’t help but wonder if you perhaps judged him too soon; maybe he wasn’t as bad as he appears to be. After all, he did just save you from a mad man.

“Thank you.” Your words are a barely an audible whisper, and if he wasn’t standing so close, he wouldn’t of heard you. For the first time, since he joined your side, he turns to face you. Releasing your waist, he steps back, giving you his attention. As his features begin to flood into your vision, you can’t help but note how uniquely attractive he is. The way his brown curls were styled neatly into perfection, and faint freckles danced their way along his cheeks, was stunning. Everything about him was arranged in such a particular order, that it was as if God crafted and handpicked Tom’s appearance himself.

His eyes were a glowing melt of brown, and they were hard to resist when they met yours with such intimacy. As if he’d known you for years. One of his eyes brows raises at you in question, and you immediately feel the need to clarify. “For stepping in when you did.” You explain, awkwardly shifting under his stare.

“Not a problem, love.” His voice has changed, it’s much warmer now, a smooth melody to your ears; surprisingly welcoming. “I don’t like to share my women.” Just as the words fall from his mouth, that brief fleeting moment of open-mindedness is thrown out the window, and you can’t help but blink at him in disgust. “Your women?” You seethed, crossing your arms defensively.

“Yes.” He remarks blankly, as if its the most obvious concept in the world. “And what makes you think that, exactly?” As powerful and intimidating as he is, there’s a self-restraint to him; giving you a false sense of security in the hopes that he wouldn’t do anything to hurt you physically, if you lashed out. He licks his lips, clicking his tongue while shaking his head slightly, a smile curving at corners of his mouth. “Are you not at my event, wearing a dress I bought, and not doubt happily counting that payment you recieved from me earlier?” He’s taken a few steps towards you, closing what little distance remained between the you two. “That doesn’t mean-”

“What it means,” he interjects, “is that for tonight, I own you.” The authority in his assertion sends chills up your spine, destroying what backbone you had, leaving you feeling small and vulnerable. You’d thought he stepped in to protect you from Tony’s attack, but in reality he was simply staking his claim, marking what was his. It was clear now that you were at his mercy, to do with as he pleased, not anyone else. “Now, what do you fancy?” He offers, gesturing towards the bar, hooking his arm through yours and leading you back over to it. Your mind has become blank, leaving you at complete loss for words.

“I think red wine to match that delicious color on your lips.” He decides, pulling the bartenders attention with his fingers and ordering you a drink. As he extends the glass to you, he pauses before placing it into your awaiting hand, “what do you say?” His eyes are daggers, piercing into yours, flaring with an underlying enigmatic energy you hadn’t noticed before. Fortunately your autopilot has begun to function and saves you from any further mishap, “thank you, Mr. Holland.”

He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes, and he places the glass in your hand, being sure to brush his fingers along yours. The contact tightens the coil of apprehension and worry growing in your stomach, and you raise the liquid courage to your mouth, welcoming its taste. “Now, may I have this dance…” He pauses, awaiting your name. “(Y/N).” You mumble into the rim of the glass.

“(Y/N)”, he repeats before offering his hand to yours.

__________________________________________

For the rest of the evening Tom had been nothing, if not an absolute gentleman, nearly allowing you to forget the vicious words he’d spoken earlier. When it came time for the conclusion of the party, every other woman that had showed up, escorted the men to their rooms for the evening. It came as no surprise to you when Tom began leading you to one of the various bedrooms in the house, and after several glasses of wine you felt more confident than before - less skittish and weak.

The room he led you in to was magnificent, and was appropriately sized in comparison to the other parts of the house you’d seen; tall ceiling, white king size bed with a glorious carved headboard to match, and double doors that led out to a balcony which overlooked the property. As beautiful as the room was, it had no personality. There was no signature color, design or any other distinguishing characteristics; which was a real indicator that led you to believe it was nothing more than a cookie cutter bedroom.

“Is this your room?” You questioned, glancing over your shoulder at him as you continued into the bedroom. “No,” he shook his head, undoing the buttons of his jacket, “I don’t take anyone to mine. This is one of my various guest beds.” Whether or not it was his intention, you were insulted that he didn’t see you as worthy of being brought to his room. Turning to face him, you’re half tempted to display your disgust but air on the side of caution and concede on saying nothing. Shrugging his jacket off, he folds it before placing it on the foot of the bed. He hooks his fingers into his bow tie, disheveling it enough so that it hangs loosely around his neck.

As much as you wish you were, you’re not immune to his prepossessing features, and even with your inherit distaste towards him, you can’t help but wonder what he’d be like in bed. Before he can catch you gawking at him, you look down at your fingers, toying with your manicured nails. Each step you sense him making towards you, adds to the feeling of entrapment; suffocating you to the point of fear. The shine of his patent leather shoes comes into view, as he stands before you. At such close proximity, you catch a whiff of his delectable cologne, no doubt designer, and you close your eyes at the smell - inhaling deeply.

One of his hands reaches forward, placing his index finger under you chin to lift it, bringing your gaze to meet his. “Don’t worry, darling.” His breath is hot against the cool of your cheeks, and the contact, no matter the amount, of him touching you is unnerving. “I’m not going to do anything you don’t want me to.” He assures, his eyes softening as his thumb runs along your jaw before stroking your cheek. The sensation is pleasant, but nonetheless a reminder of what his intentions are.

“Aren’t you though? Taking advantage of women, because you’ve asserted your power and wealth over them, which gives you some demented delusion that they’re your property to do with as you please.” The words fly out of your mouth before you have time to filter or stop them, and your eyes cautiously scan his face to gauge his reaction. Tom’s eyebrows raise in disbelief, as his mouth pops open in attempts to compose a structured sentence. His hand falls from your face and he quietly scoffs, shaking his head slightly.

“I’mnot a fucking rapist.” The revulsion in his voice is palpable, and he narrows his eyes at you, taken aback by your subtle accusation. By how offended he appears to be, there’s a small sting of shame and guilt growing in your side, for lashing out. “It’s just,” he runs an exasperated hand through his hair, “this is how the night usually ends with women like you.”

“Women like me?” You bait, blinking at him in question. “Whores.” He clarifies, almost dismissively, as if he knew of some preceding lifestyle you’ve had. “I am not a whore.” You refute, glaring at him. He gives you a doubtful smile, a hint of amusement hiding behind his hooded eyes. “For your information, I’ve never slept with a client in my life, but I can see how you might’ve missed that, as you’ve been too busy basking in your own arrogance to be able to understand anything about anyone besides yourself.”

His expression shifts again, leaning more towards amusement than anything else, and for the first time of the night, he smiles to his eyes, revealing his teeth. They’re perfectly shaped and arranged, a beaming shade of porcelain white that immediately captivates your attention. Damn he’s beautiful. “What?” You snap at his chuckles, attempting to conceal your smile with annoyance.

“I’d just love to see what other skills your mouth has, besides putting me in my place.” He’s smirking now, and his eyes have darkened several shades, their attention falling to your mouth. Instinctively, your tongue darts out to wet your lips, noting his reaction when you do so. “Well, that’s not going to happen.” You feign certainty, ignoring the fact that his bottom lip is caught between his teeth; which is one of the sexiest sights you swore you’ve ever seen.

“Fortunately, I’m a patient man.” He chortled, his hand coming up to tuck a fallen hair behind your ear. “Can patience wait till never?” Sarcasm is dripping off of every word that falls from your mouth, but you’re throughly amused by this childish bickering. “Oh, you give yourself too much credit, kitten,” he sighs, “eventually you’ll give in, and I can not wait for the day I see you on your knees below me.” His thumb strokes over your ear, tugging gently at the lobe before dropping his hand back to his side.

The vitality between you has become much too intense, the air practically cracking underneath the tension, and you know if you stay what might happen. You refuse to allow yourself to become a pawn in his game. Another notch in his belt. Another nameless face that he’d soon forget after having his fill of you. You respected yourself too much to become victim to his persuasions, and with that understanding, you ached for freedom.

“Can I go home?” You murmur, swallowing hard. For what feels like the hundredth, you watch as his expression shifts into conflict and confusion at something you’ve said. “You wanna leave?” He sounds surprised, but also acutely offended. You nod silently, tearing your gaze away from his to reexamine your fingers as you did before. There’s a long moment of silence, before he eventually sighs in defeat, walking over to the phone on the bedside table.

There’s an exchange of hushed words, then he hangs up the call, walking over to the bed to grab his jacket. “Come, I’ll walk you out.” He opens the door, stepping to the side and allowing you to take the lead. The walk through the halls is taken in comfortable, but deafening silence, neither of you sure what to say to the other. As you approach the entry way to the house, Tom stops you with a gentle tug on your arm. “Here,” he shrugs off his jacket, placing it over your shoulders, “it’s cold outside.”

The act is seemingly absentminded to him, but it’s such an unexpected and endearing gesture that you feel a flush spreading along your cheeks. “Thank you.” You smile, snuggling into the warmth and comfort of the silk inner-lining of his jacket. Stepping into the brisk breeze of the night, you become immensely more grateful for the comfort provided by the additional clothing, pulling the sleeves tightly around you. The valet turns to you both and smiles politely, “the car should be coming around any second, sir.” Tom nods in acknowledgement, shifting so that he’s closer to you.

“Am I the only girl leaving?” You ask, your curiosity getting the better of you. “Well, you were paid for the full night, as were the others, so technically you’re not supposed to leave. But, yes. You are.” There’s a hint of admiration behind his remark, as if he’s proud that his girl decided not stay and fuck him like the others. To be completely honest, he was. Of course, he wanted you and he wouldn’t of been disappointed if you did stay, but that would’ve been much too boring. You had set yourself apart, refusing to sleep with Tony and him, made you interesting. A challenge that Tom was more than happy to fight for.

Within a few seconds the limo pulls around the front of the house, a different man from before stepping out to open the door for you. Tom walks you to the car, dismissing the driver with a glance, then turning to face you. “I would say goodbye, but I have a feeling I’ll see you again. Sooner or later.” His tone is very matter-of-fact, but his eyes are pooling with hopefulness. “Don’t hold your breath.” You half-chuckle, moving to take off his jacket. “Keep it,” he interjects, waving his hand, “I’ve got a hundred just like it.” Smiling at him, you lean forward and place a swift but tantalizingly sweet kiss on his cheek. Staining it with your florescent red imprint. “Good night, Tom.” His eyes meet yours again, alight with a newfound determination, and softness to them you hadn’t seen before. “Good night, (Y/N).”

Stepping into the car, Tom shuts the door behind you, and watches at you drive off into the night. With the comfort of the leather upholstery beneath you, and the warmth of Tom’s jacket, which you would later come to find out that he had discreetly placed his number inside one of its pocket, your eyes slowly started to flutter shut. Intoxicated by the smell of him surrounding you, you were inevitably pulled into a quick sleep, your mind instinctively conjuring up thoughts of Tom.

Unaware of it at the time, but this would be the first of many nights, where your dreams would drift to him. He would come to own your every thought and waking moment, teasing and tormenting you with his presence. As Tom had predicted, you’d given yourself too much credit. You were his, and you were going to find yourself on your knees for him, sooner or later.

Thinking Of You.

|| summary: headcanon about phone sex with tom, because…. a kink, oops.

|| author’s note: this wasn’t requested, but damn is it a motherfucking concept.

• okay so we all know that with tom’s job, comes a lot of traveling.

• and when he travels he becomes very lonely, especially when he doesn’t have someone(you) to keep him company.

• this wasn’t a regular thing, but if tom was gone for longer than usual, or he just had a really tough day and all he wanted was to be between your legs - this typically occurred.

• it’d start with a simple “hey, are you up?” type of message because of time zones, he didn’t know if you were awake or asleep.

• they’re a pain.

• sometimes you’d be woken up by the message because it was like three in the morning, or sometimes he just caught you when you were pulling a late-nighter.

• you’d be on your phone and see his message pop up, and reply immediately.

• because boy did you miss your man.
• and he missed you so much more.

• after your reply he’d send you some corny shit like:

• “call me, i wanna hear your voice :(”
• this is typically when he didn’t plan the phone sex to happen, it just kinda did.

• or sometimes he’d get straight to the point:

• “call me, i need you”
• this was rare but usually meant he had a rough ass day and needed to let off some stress asap.

• your heart would be pounding so fast when you’d hear the dial tone connecting your call, but as soon as you heard tom’s voice, you couldn’t be more content.

• his voice would be so raspy because it’s late where he’s at too, and his accent would sound so thick, and he’d be all sleepy sounding but really coherent and awake at the same time ,, oof.

• there’d be a brief moment of silence as y'all just listened to each other breathe, the gravity of missing one another and being so far apart really setting in.

• but tom always started the conversation.

• “hey, pretty girl. you miss me?”
• “very much.”
• he’d sigh heavily. “i miss you too… more than you know.”

• it started off as a casual call, you two would just be going back forth about each other’s day and what movie you saw recently or gossip about friends or whatever, but it would eventually take a sexual turn - which was often tom’s doing.

• “so….” he’d trail off, “whatcha wearing?”
• you’d snicker. “nothing cute. just one of your shirts and some shorts.”
• “isn’t my shirt a lucky son of bitch… what’s on underneath?”
• you’d bite your lip, knowing where this is headed and loving every minute of it. “… nothing.”

• he’d make this deep groan that was so sexy. it’d be a little bit of sexual frustration mixed with desire to just seeyou.

• “really?” he’d question, his voice low.
• “mhm,i like feeling your shirt pressed against me, it makes it easier to imagine you being here.”

• that was true, you loved having the smell and almost feel of him begin with you - even if it was just a shirt.

• “well, if i were there… what do you imagine me doing?”
• you’d smile, all sorts of scenarios rushing to your mind as you try to filter through them and pick just one. “probably kissing me.”
• “where?” his voice was just a breathy whisper.
• “well,you’d start with my lips,” your hand would reach up and run its fingers along them as you say this, “slipping your tongue into my mouth, tempting and tasting me the way you do.”
• he’d hum appreciatively as he hung onto every single word you said, his eyes fluttering shut to really picture you in the room with him.
• “you’d continue down my neck, across my chest… along my nipples.”

• he’d be so turned on by the thought that you’d hear his breath hitch in his throat, and his hand would be trailing underneath the bedsheets to stroke himself over his sweats.

• your free hand would slide under your (his) shirt to play with your breasts, your fingers rolling over your nipples - imaging that it was tom’s mouth.

• “your other hand would reach down and touch me through my panties, feeling how wet you make me.”
• “oh, babe, you’re always so wet for me.” he’d rasp, his hand teasing himself through the material of his thin sweats.
• “especially when you go down on me, god tom… the things you can do with your tongue.”

• you’d bite your lip, as your hand trailed down into your underwear, running between your folds to collect your own slick.

• “i’m so wet for you right now.”
• “darling, please.” tom would whine, his free hand coming up to his mouth, licking the palm of it, before shoving it into sweats to grip his throbbing erection. “are you touching that pretty pussy of yours, while thinking of me?”
• you could only moan in response, your mouth falling open as your fingers circle your clit.

• the sounds of your whimpers would drive tom wild as he began to stroke up and down his length, imaging that it was your mouth and not his hand.

• his occasional grunts and sharp intakes of breath would urge your fingers on, causing you to arch your back at the stimulation.

• “my hands don’t feel as good as your mouth.” you’d whisper, squeezing your lips together to hold in your moans.
• tom would growl, “don’t hold back baby, let it out. i need to hear you.”

• his hand would gain momentum, continuing to pump his length as he gave himself over to the sounds you were making and picturing the way you looked right now - touching yourself for him.

• your orgasm was building fast, your thighs tightened around your wrist, entrapping your hand as your legs began to tremble.

• “tommy-” your moans of pleasure would cut you off, your hand holding the phone would barely be able to keep itself up against your ear.
• “keeping going, princess. i’m close too, please.” he’d pant so loud, you could almost feel his hot breath on your neck.

• your fingers speed up, and you could faintly hear tom’s hand sliding up and down himself, the sound nearly causing you to cum right then and there.

• “jesus, i wish i was inside you.” he groaned, the veins in his arms bulging - abs tight, and bare chest painted in drops of sweat as he pushed himself to the edge of his orgasm at the thought and sounds of you.

• recognizing your telltale moans when on the brink of an orgasm, he’d urge you on.

• “cum for me, pretty girl.”
• “just like that, god you’re so fucking sexy.”
• “mhm, yes, you’re so hot.”

• you’d throw your head back and gasp loudly, grinding your hips down onto your fingers, riding yourself through your orgasm before pulling your hand away from your throbbing clit.

• tom would still be pumping himself, nearly over the edge, but you’d be sure to return the favor.

• “cum for me, tommy.”
• “just picture my mouth collecting all your cum, mhm i wish i was there.”
• “come on, baby boy.”

• his mouth would fall open and he’d let out a satisfied groan that would cause your insides to twitch as he came all over himself.

• the sounds of your guys’ labored breathing would fill the silence over the line as you two caught your breath and slowed your heart beats.

• tom would sigh, “jesus that was-”
• “i know.” you’d smirk, licking your lips.
• “i’m a fucking mess.”
• “wish i was there to clean you up.” you’d tease, pulling your shirt back down, re-covering your breasts.
• “me too… if it wasn’t obvious enough, i really fucking miss you.”

• your eyes would close briefly as you smiled, trying to ignore the feeling of a growing hole in your stomach in response to the pain of his absence.

• “i miss you too. like a lot.”
• “i’ll be home soon, pretty girl.”
• “soon can’t come fast enough.”
• “you’re telling me, but when i get there we can reenact that little scenario you were describing to me earlier.”

• your cheeks heated as you bit your lip, even more eager for him to be home.

• “i’m holding you to that.”
• “please do.”

• there was a long pause of comfortable silence, as you two just enjoyed the comfort of having the other person on the line, instantly available for anything you wanted to say, hearing each other breathe - almost as if you shared the same room.

• “i have to go shower and get to bed, i got an early table read tomorrow.”
• “yeah, i should turn in too.”
• “good night, love. dream of me?”
• you smiled, chuckling softly into the phone. “always.”

• with that, you settled into bed, closing your eyes and allowing sleep to wash over you.

• that night, you’d dream of tom.

Say My Name.

|| summary: tom loves hearing you s(cream)ay his name. featuring the first time tom goes down on the reader.

|| author’s note: this specific act was requested like a billion times so i hope y'all enjoy, and thanks for the patience!

Sounds of lips sucking on skin and soft moans filled the silence in the room. Tom’s shirt, as well as yours, was discarded on the floor where he had dropped them earlier. The two of you were now standing at the foot of his bed, the back of your knees pressed against the mattress, as Tom’s lips danced their way along your exposed chest.

Your heart was pounding so fast, you swore you heard it beating. Tom and you had been intimate before, but this time it felt different. It was different. In the back of your head, you knew the two of you were going to go further than you had before, but how far was really the question weighing on your mind.

A few times you’d gotten practically naked, in nothing but your bra and underwear, but something always managed to interrupt you both. After a while, you thought maybe the universe was giving you a sign that you two shouldn’t take that step. Like, maybe he was really bad at it or something? Not that that would bother you or anything, it was just something your mind conjured up to plague your imagination with.

Tom’s lips broke you from your train of thought as they latched onto your neck, urging you to tilt your head back for him. One of his hands cupped the back of your neck, holding you in place, while the other reached down to unbutton your jeans, fumbling with them for a bit.

Your breath hitched in your throat, and your arms reached out to grasp his bare shoulders, steadying yourself; if you hadn’t, you thought you might faint. You weren’t sure what exactly was making you so damn nervous, Tom was always so gentle and slow, but in this moment you almost wanted to speed things up so you didn’t feel so exposed.

Tom took his lips off your neck, causing you to whine with an irritated huff, lifting your head to look at him. His hand moved from the back of your neck to around your throat, skimming over it, lightly squeezing, before cupping your chin and brining you into a kiss. A kiss that was needful, yet precise and steady, that all of your insecurities vanished and you knew you wanted nothing more than for this to last forever.

Kissing was the one thing you felt confident about, and your tongue danced with his, fighting for dominance. Leaning his weight into you, he forced the two of you back onto the bed, using his free arm to catch the fall. Your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling his hips flush against yours, as your tongues explored and tasted each other’s mouths.

His hand around your chin fell to your thigh, hitching it higher up his waist, as he began grinding himself down into you. A moan escaped you, pouring into Tom’s mouth before he pulled away for air.

He kissed his way across your cheek, while you buried your hands in his unruly hair - tugging gently at the curls. “You’re so responsive darling,” he groaned as he took your ear lobe between his teeth, sucking on it briefly before releasing it and whispering, “I lovethat.”

You moaned again in response, biting your lip as Tom kissed the spot just below your ear. His hips slowed to a stop and he brought his face back to yours, hovering of you. “So sexy,” he mumbles, almost absentmindedly, kissing you quickly, before sliding his body down off the bed. He stands at your feet, admiring you briefly, then grabs your ankles and pulls you further down the mattress, so that your legs are practically hanging off of it. His fingers reach down and hook into your jeans and panties, pulling them down simultaneously in one swift motion.

You’re now in nothing but your bra, and the way that his jeans are hanging seductively off his hips, the waistband of calvin klein boxers clearly visible - makes you want nothing more than to tear him out of them. Leaning down, he begins kissing his way up your legs, starting along the outside and working his way in. Propping yourself onto your elbows, you watch as his mouth sucks and kisses its way your legs, savoring every inch of your skin.

His mouth latches onto the inside of one knee, and his hand reaches up and pushes the opposite knee down - spreading your legs apart. After a beat, his mouth continues up your thigh, kissing along the inside of the soft flesh, and repeating the same process on the other leg. Tom’s lips hover over your core, peeking up through long lashes to meet your eyes.

Holding your stare, he lowers his mouth down onto you, licking a long flat stroke, spreading your lips open. “Oh Tom,” you groan, arching your back and tangling your hands in his hair, “yessssss.” Urging him on, his tongue continues up until it reaches your sensitive blub of nerves, which Tom pulls into his mouth - sucking on it softly.

“Fuck.” One of your hands reaches up and runs the back of it along your lips, allowing you to bite down on two of your fingers to hold in your moans. Tom takes his mouth off you briefly, causing you to groan in frustration. “Ah-ah,” he tisks, reaching for your hand and pulling it away from your mouth, “I wanna hear you.” He kisses his way along your inner thighs, spreading your moisture, before returning his lips to your clit, dipping his tongue inside of you briefly.

“Oh my God, Jesus.” Your eyes flutter shut and your head falls, hitting the mattress with a thud as the coil in your stomach turns, all your nerve-endings rushing to your core. One of his hands cups the top of your thigh, hooking it over his shoulder, while the other slowly slides his middle, then index finger into you. You groan loudly, bucking your hips against Tom’s face causing him to chuckle against you. “You like that, pretty girl?” He mumbles into the soft skin of your thigh, his hot breath tickling you.

“Yes, you’re so good!” You cry, as his fingers continue to slowly pump in and out of you, stretching you open, before curling inside of you and running along your G-spot. “Holy,” your mouth falls open as Tom’s tongue licks from his fingers back to your clit, the mixture of the two sensations causing your legs to shake.

You begin grinding yourself down onto his face and fingers, desperate for faster-deeper penetration. His hand on the top of your thigh shifts, hooking itself over your waist to keep your hips from moving. “Tommy,” you whine.

“Say that again,” he rasps, “say my name.” As you call out his name again, his mouth moans around you, the vibration bouncing off your clit in the most spectacular way. Your insides clench around his fingers and you feel your legs tightening onto Tom’s shoulders, nearing you on the brink of your orgasm. “T-Tom, I’m gonna-” you’re cut off by your own moans, as Tom’s fingers increase their speed and his mouth begins sucking hard on your clit, circling his tongue around it at the same time.

The grip you have on his hair tightens, pulling at it roughly, as your hips desperately try to buck against his face but his arm holds you securely in place. Your orgasm washes over you like warm summer rain, starting from your core and working it’s way up and down your entire body. A spew of profanities and Tom’s name fall from your mouth as he rides you through your orgasm - slowing his fingers and flicking his tongue lightly over your clit.

Your eyes blink open, and Tom removes his fingers from you, causing you to wince slightly. Looking down at him, you watch as he takes his fingers into his mouth and sucks them clean, savoring the flavor before crawling over you. Leaning down he kisses you quickly, slipping his tongue into your mouth so you can taste yourself stained on him. He moans softly, as your arms hook around his neck, holding him close.

“That was so hot.” You mumble, breaking away from the kiss. He smirks down at you with boyish-arrogance, a confident glimmer in his eye. “I had no idea you could make such sexy noises. Or that you tasted so good.” He kisses you a few more times, as you grin from ear-to-ear, trying to contain a laugh. “What?” He asks, tilting his head to the side in question, a smile pulling at the corners of his lips.

“I just,” you burst into a fit of giggles as the thought plays in your head, “I just can’t believe I actually thought you might be bad at this.” Snorting, you throw an arm over your face, surrending yourself to the humor of it. “Bad?” Tom questions, “you thought I’d be bad?” He sounds amused, but also slightly offended.

Uncovering your face, you reach up and cup his cheeks, stroking them with your thumb reassuringly. “No, no, not like that. I just always thought it was weird that we never got to do anything, so I thought maybe the universe was telling me something. But clearly, I was very wrong.” He smirks down at you again, licking his lips.

“Well, you know I have all sorts of skills you don’t even know about yet…” he tails off kissing along your jaw, “and I’d love to show you how bad I can be.” Tom teases, wriggling his eyebrows at you mischievously. Your mouth pops open in surprise, but you smile and nod your head enthusiastically. “Show me what you’re made of Holland.”

The Night Before.

|| summary: the events that preceded the imagine so, what’s for breakfast. hope you enjoy.

|| author’s note: this was infinitely requested, i hope i didn’t disappoint!

part 1

“Fuck.” Tom grunted under his breath, as he shifted eagerly in his seat beside you. Your hand was in his lap, stroking him through his dress pants under the guise of the long table cloth. Originally, he had grabbed ahold of your wrist in attempts to stop to you, but his grip was now loosened, guiding your hand at the pace he wanted. His other arm was hung across the back of your chair, his thumb stroking over the smooth skin of your exposed shoulder in encouragement.

Eyeing him up and down, you took his features into photographic memory. The way his head was slightly hung back, eyes closed, bottom lip between his teeth, and how his hand was now just running along the top of yours gently - allowing you free range over him. His black suit was perfectly tailored, clinging to his muscles in the most spectacular way. The suit jacket was off, hanging on the back of his chair, allowing you the beautiful sight of him in a white button up. What is it about men in white collar shirts and bow ties?

Glancing around the room, checking to make sure you two still have your cover, you find everyone’s eyes are on the best man as he gives his speech. The couple getting married were friends of your mom, the bride was on her third marriage, but you know what they say - third time’s the charm, right? Your mother had chastised you even before the ceremony, telling you to leave your judgements and opinions at the door, but it was hard not to find the whole thing a bit ridiculous.

When the couple said their I do’s, Tom had leaned over to you and made a snide comment along the lines of, “I can’t wait to say ‘I do’, to you… hopefully only once.” Once the celebrations commenced, Tom and you were bored out of your minds, and after a few too many drinks, he decided on playing a game of cat and mouse. You agreed, and here you were.

Earlier, Tom had teased you while on the dance floor, ridding his fingers up the back of your short dress, running them along the thin fabric of your panties. With the music blaring you were able to let quiet moans escape you, and the floor was crowded enough that no one suspected anything about the way you were leaning the back of your head against his shoulder - assuming the two of you were just dancing. Tom was also very good at being discrete when it came to this game, which is why he almost always won. Before you could cum, he took his fingers off of you and almost immediately after that, the best man requested to make a toast.

Now, you were finally in a position to get some revenge, and that’s exactly what you were doing. You watched as his features changed the more and more excited he got, and when you saw him coming close to cumming, you pulled your hand off of him, forcing him to try and conceal his frustrated groan as cough. He glared over at you, using his free hand to brush his hair back into place. Smiling sweetly at him, you leaned over and kissed his cheek, whispering in his ear, “don’t tease me next time.”

Tom raised his eyebrows at you, his face only inches from yours. “Are you threatening me?” He asked, tilting his head to one side. “Maybe.” You challenged, shrugging your shoulders.

“Oh,” he half-chuckled, “that’s a dangerous game, darling. You sure you wanna play?” You pursed your lips, pretending to think about it, before nodding. He shook his head in disbelief, shifting back in his seat, giving his attention to the best man.

For the rest of the outrageously long speech, Tom didn’t look at you once, nor did he acknowledge your touch when you brushed fingertips with him as he reached for his champagne glass. The only sign he gave you to let you know that he was still playing, was that damned thumb on your shoulder; rhythmically stroking over it again and again. When the speaker finally concluded his toast, Tom took you by surprise by abruptly standing to his feet and offering you his hand. You cautiously took it, raising to your feet as he placed his jacket over your shoulders, and lead you out of the room, past the tables of people, over the grass yard, and to the parking lot.

You didn’t need to question him on what he was doing, or why, or where you were going… you knew. He brought you out here because he needed to feed his hunger, the hunger the two of you shared and had been yearning to be satisfied all night.

Huridly, he searched through his pocket for the keys, and as soon as he unlocked the car and opened the backseat door, he turned to face you. When his eyes met yours, and his mouth popped open slightly, the air between you practically crackled under the intensity of the stare.

Before he could say anything, you cupped his face and pulled him into a feverish kiss. You felt his grin against your lips, as his hand came down and gripped your waist - pulling you flush against his body. In that moment you didn’t care if anyone had seen you two leave in a hurry, or if they knew what you were planning on doing, you just wanted him. Somehow, managing to not break the kiss, he guided the two of you into the car, sitting down and pulling you onto his lap.

He reaches behind you to shut the car door before his hands fall to your ass, squeezing it roughly; causing you to gasp and allow his tongue access into your mouth. As your tongues explored and caressed the inside of each other’s mouths, one of his hands came up to grip your throat, gently tightening around it before cupping your chin to control the kiss. 

You began grinding your hips down onto him, reveling in the feel of his erection against the thin fabric of your panties. One of his hands on your ass moved up your back to the zipper of your dress, pulling it down; he let go of your chin so both of his hands could simultaneously pull down the straps of your dress - revealing your breasts to him.

“God, you drive me crazy.” He growled against your mouth, roughly biting your bottom lip, pulling it down, before flattening a hand against your chest to push you backwards slightly, giving him enough room to lean over and pull one of your breasts into his mouth. While his lips fixated on one nipple, his free hand reaches up to play with other, coaxing the most glorious sounds out of you. Your hands fist in his hair, running through the sticky curls, pulling desperately to urge him on.

“You like when my mouth is on you, don’t you baby?” He asks, his words slightly muffled against the skin of your breast. You nod, biting your lip. “Tell me.” He demands, his hand stopping as he watches you intently.

“I love when your mouth is on me, you make me feel so good.” You groan, as he takes your breast back into his mouth; moaning around it, the vibration causing your eyes to flutter shut. The combination of his mouth and hands on you, paired with the grinding of your hips, brings you to the brink of an orgasm. Just as you begin to feel the build, Tom pulls his hand and mouth off of you, leaving you a whimpering mess. He does this several more times before you finally begin to plea with him, “Tommy, don’t tease me. Please.” You whine.

“I thought you wanted to play?” He questions, arching a brow at you. “I can’t, no more please. Just fuck me.” You beg. Smirking at you arrogantly, his hands reach for his belt. “Take your panties off.” He orders.

Doing as your told, you slide off him and onto the passenger seat, quickly removing your panties and discarding them on the floor. Once he’s pulled his pants off enough to free his erection, he reaches for you, offering you a steady hand.

“Come here.” He breathes, pulling you back onto his lap. As you straddle him, he uses one hand to align himself with your enterance, while the other cups your backside. Leaning forward, he kisses you as you slowly sink down onto him, the two of you groaning loudly into each other’s mouths.

“Ride me, darling. Please.” He pants, his hands falling to your hips. Placing both hands on his shoulders, you begin to slowly lift yourself up and down on top of him - grinding your hips back and forth. His tongue darts out to wet his lips as he watches you steadily lift then sink yourself back onto him. “So sexy.” He encourages, one of his hands coming up to brush your hair back from your face.

With that boost of confidence, you pick up your pace, circling your hips each time you come down on him. “Oh.” He moans loudly, tilting his head back against the seat, his eyes squeezing shut as he takes his bottom lip between his teeth. You throw your head back and gasp when his hips snap up to meet yours, hitting you deeper than before and creating a euphoric rhythm.

Sweat builds on your forehead, and the car becomes unbearably hot as you build yourself closer to your orgasm. One of Tom’s hands leaves your hip, and moves between the two of you to your clit, circling around it with his thumb. “Tom,” you pant, “I’m gonna-” He leans forward and takes your pleas into his mouth, kissing you with passion.

The two heady sensations of him inside you, and his thumb pressing on your clit, sends you over the brink of your orgasm. Your hand reaches out and slams against the window as a spew of profanities fall from your mouth. Tom reaches his own climax as your insides clench around him, and he moans out your name, before his face collapses against your chest.

As the two of yours breathing calms, and your heart beats slow, you remain like this; his head on your chest, one of your hands stroking through his hair, and his arms around you. After what feels like a life time, he kisses your skin and leans back to look at you. “You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” He states in awe.

You can’t help but laugh, feeling anything but, “I’m sure I look like a sweaty mess.” His hand reaches up and strokes your cheek with the back of his knuckles, “A beautiful sweaty mess.” He clarifies and kisses you sweetly.

“Now, we should probably get back to the 'party’.” He sighs, fixing his bow tie, as you pull up the straps of your dress to cover yourself. “Or,” you propose, “we could go home and have our own little party. What do you say, you wanna have some fun?”

He tilts his head, grinning at you knowingly. “I do.”

kingsholland masterlist

Hi, welcome to my masterlist. I only write headcanons, imagines, or series about Tom - as of right now. All my writings are in order from the oldest to the latest releases under that specific category. Enjoy.

Please do not repost, copy and paste, or claim any of my work as your own. Reblogs are fine, but if you’re going to repost my work please ask permission + give credit.

Feel free to give me feedback or request writings, here.

Smut

•you have no idea what i’d like to do to that mouth

•well that escalated quickly

•so, what’s for breakfast

•one hell of a way to be woken up

•mornings like this

•the night before

Blurbs/One Shots

•imagine tom above you…

•french kisses

•not that drunk

•say my name

•take a break

Headcanons

•that time of the month

•i miss you kinda sex

•hypeman

•kissing you

•hands

•thinking of you

Series

• mistakes like this - mob!tom series:teaser,chapter one

Videos

•idk what this is but…

•tom doing them things i like: THAT

•birthday boy

•tom ends mackie

Gifs/Photos

•boy if you don’t

•blonde tom

Hands.

|| summary: a headcanon about tom’s hands because… it’s a kink of mine, oops.

|| author’s note: based off of this post(x), be sure to feast your eyes first ;)

• one of the most noteable features about tom’s hands, is his long and dexterous fingers.

• which we all know are very strong because… gymnastics??

• he loves to intertwine your fingers with his, occasionally playing with the tips of yours.

• often times his fingers would find their way into your hair, running through it, massaging against your scalp.

• or sometimes he just liked to simply play with it.

• whenever the two of you would be napping, your head on his chest, arm slung across his waist, he’d be running his fingers gently up and down the length of your arm.

• drawing imaginary shapes and following every mark and curve he had memorized.
• sometimes he’d make you chuckle when he’d use his index and middle finger to “walk” across your arm - doing a little irish jig with them.

• he’d also love to outline your face, while you slept.

• tracing over the bridge of your nose, across your lips, over your eyelids, along your eyebrows, dancing their way across your cheeks before repeating the process.
• it’ssoooooorelaxing.

• during cuddles, his head would be on your chest, and his fingers would lift your shirt and run along your stomach.

• following along the waistband of your panties, to your naval, up along your ribs, just under your breasts - then back down.
• sometimes they’d venture even further. slipping into your panties…

• his hands themselves were slightly callus, especially along the knuckles from boxing, but they were always very warm and gentle.

• the boy could never keep his hands to himself they were always on you.

• either his hand was in yours, or around your waist, or grasping your thigh, or lightly gripping the back of your neck - massaging it slightly-
• (sometimes the front of your neck too, squeezing your throat softly,, uhm)
• - or on your ass.

• anywhere and everywhere he could touch you, he would.

• the two favorite places for his hands to be, was either on your ass, or thigh.

• when his hands were on your ass, he’d squeeze your cheeks playfully, just enjoying the feel of you filling his palms.

• the boy would give the best booty rubs!!
• his fingers digging into the sore muscles of your ass, working out all the tension and stress they’re put under throughout the day.

• he wasn’t really into spanking as a serious kink, but boy did he love to slap your ass to get a reaction out of you.

• either quick slaps as you walked by in order to make you squeal, or a few harsh paced slaps when you’d been teasing him all night and he wanted to punish you.
• or if he was doing you from behind, he’d pull your hips back against him, smacking you once to make sure that you were ready.

• he loves resting his hand on your thigh, so that his fingers are just between one leg and the other, right where your skin is the warmest.

•heloved when your legs were freshly shaved.

• he’d run his hand along the length of your thigh, tracing his hand all the way down to your knee and back - reveling in how smooth and soft your skin felt.
• this is where is hand almost always was when driving.

• one of his (your) biggest turn-ons, is when you’d suck his fingers.

• sometimes it’d be casual or intended to get a reaction out of him, but either way it drove him crazy.

• you’d be eating something messily, and he’d lean over to wipe a piece of fallen food from the corner of your mouth, and before he could pull his hand away, you’d grab ahold of it, pulling his finger into your mouth.

• he’d sit back, his jaw slightly ajar, eyes fixated on your mouth, as his thumb was slowly slipped in and out between your lips.

• after a brief moment, you’d release his hand and smile at him sweetly, playing naïve to the fact that he’s totally turned on, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

• other times, it’s completely intentional. like when he’d place his fingers on your bottom lip, telling you to “suck”.

• he usually did this when he’d just finished fingering you (or right before, having you lubricate them for him) and wanted you to taste yourself on his fingers.
• “here,darling” he’d say, running index and middle finger along your lips, “see how good you taste.”
• or he’d put his fingers in his own mouth, closing his eyes, as he sucked and savored the taste of you off of them.

• hand holding for him was either casual -

• absentmindedly grabbing your hand, pulling it into his lap, running his thumb over your knuckles.

• - or an extreme form of intimacy.

• especially hand holding during sex.
• tightly intertwining his fingers with yours, pinning your hands above your head - allowing you squeeze his hands vs the bedsheets.

• his hands always knew when and where to touch you, in order to have you a wriggling mess.

• like when he’d be going down on you, and he could tell by the way you were grinding your hips down onto his tongue, that you were desperate for deeper penetration than his tongue was providing.
• so he’d slip two of his long slim fingers into you with ease, curling them so that he could hit your g-spot. ughhhh you’d be cumming in notime.

• his hands also loved to play with your boobs. cupping and squeezing them gently. (or roughly depending on the mood)

• his fingers knew the right way to play with your nipples - twisting and pulling them so that your back was arched so far off the bed, he’d have to use the weight of his body to push you back down on to the mattress.

• let’s just say that his fingers were very very very skilled, and he was able to introduce you to a whole new world of pleasure with them.

okayyyyyy but tom’s hands need to be appreciated more, so if you have a tom kink feel free to send me shit about his hands because phew.

Not That Drunk.

|| summary: just a blurb about drunk tom being adorable!

|| author’s note: mainly fluffy but some slight smutty themes… as per usual.

There was an intense inner struggle going on in your mind for the past ten minutes now, not yet sure which way you were leaning to most, but being kept awake non the less. It started with a “bump in the night” kinda of sound that had startled you awake, and seeing as you were alone, expect for Tessa who was soundly asleep at your feet, you were clearly hesitant to go and investigate the situation independently.

Nevertheless, your thoughts became victim to the dark inner workings of imagination, and conjured up ever possible break in-murder-rape-kidnapping scenario imaginable. It left your mind wide awake, hearing on high alert, and your body completely immobile. After the extensive period of deafening silence, which felt much much longer than simply ten minutes, there was another sound; this time, just down the hall from your bedroom door.

Paranoid, you shot out of bed, startling Tessa awake, and hit your knees to the floor - attempting to conceal yourself behind the side of the bed opposite to the door. Footsteps dragged and stumbled down the hall, giving the illusion of more than one person walking, making you all the more uneasy. Tessa, who was now approaching the bedroom door cautiously, gave you a new sense of appreciation for her being here.

That is until she started sniffing at the crack between the bottom of the door and the floor, and wagging her tail ferociously. Just as you were about to ridicule her for not being a good gaurd dog, she began to whine the way she does when Tom gets home.

Before you could put two and two together, Tom’s looming figure stumbled through the door. “Oh, hey Tess.” Tom giggled bending over to pet her, nearly falling over in the process but somehow retaining enough balance to hang over himself.

Tess barked playfully and jumped onto his legs, her tail desperately trying to keep up with her excitement. “Sh, Tess, we don’t want s'to wakey mummy.” He chuckled. At this point, he turns his head to check and make sure you’re still asleep, standing upright when he finds the bed unoccupied. “Where’d she go? Tint tell me she weaving.” He slurs, asking Tessa genuinely - as if she knows the answer.

Embrassed, you slowly stand to your feet, hoping to crawl back into bed before Tom notices you and just assumes he missed you in a drunken haze. “Baby,” he exclaims, “where were you?” He stretches out his arms to you, making a grabbing motion with his hands, beckoning you forward. Not being able to resist his drunken adorableness, you crawl over the bed, sitting up on your knees and wrapping your arms around his neck.

His hands fall to your pajama short-clad ass, which he squeezes playfully. Tom is always pretty flirtatious with you when he’s drunk, but even particularly more so when you’re dressed in something skimpy; tonight that would be just a tanktop and pajama shorts. His head falls to your shoulder, kissing the exposed skin before turning his face into your neck, and inhaling deeply.

At such close proximity, he began to fill your senses; he smelt faintly of his signature cologne and hair gel, but the harsh stench of alcohol was a bit overwhelming - nearly masking the two other scents. “How much did you drink, exactly?” You question, running a hand through his sticky hair.

“Why? ’M not even da drunk.” He mumbles into the skin of your neck, his words slightly muffled. “Not even that drunk, huh?” You retort sarcastically.

“Mm-hm,” he nods, leaning back, “only this much.” Using his index finger and thumb he indicates that he only had a “tiny” amount, and when you give him a questioning look, he purses his lips and reluctantly extends his fingers apart a bitmore.

He drops his hand back onto your ass, rejoining the other, as he leans down to kiss you. It’s a somewhat sloppy peck, given his intoxicated state, but you enjoy it all the same. His fingers dig into your cheeks, causing you to squeal in surprise opening your mouth to him, and he takes the opportunity to dip his tongue into it.

You respond to the kiss, massaging and flicking your tongue along his, coaxing sweet low moans from him, that pour into your mouth like fresh spring rain. He tastes of mixed alcoholic beverages, peppermint, and your favorite flavor: Tom. Slowly pulling away from the kiss, he pauses, catching his breath.

“I want you.” He whispers against your lips, and the desire in his plea sends chills up your spine. Before you can respond, his hands are reaching for the tie on your shorts, drunkenly fumbling with it.

His lips attach to your neck, soundly sucking their way down it, and you place your hands on his shoulders in attempt to push him back. “Tom…” You start, but as his mouth finds its way to your sweet spot and starts sucking, you moan loudly and tilt your head to side, giving him easier access.

Using the weight of his body, Tom pushes you back flat on the bed, crawling over you. As one of his hands reaches for his belt, you have a moment of clarity and grab his hand to stop him. “Tom, we can’t.” You huff, licking your swollen lips and attempting to sound as stern as possible.

“What?” Tom pulls away from your neck, a pout stapled on his face. “Why?” He whines. You can’t help but smile at his expense, fully enjoying his adorable pout. Reaching a hand up, you push fallen tendrils of hair off his face, stroking through them briefly. “You’re drunk. You need sleep.”

He sighs heavily, opening his mouth to argue but is cut off by a long yawn. “I’m fine. ’M not even tired.” He states matter-of-factly, and you’re not sure whether he’s trying to convince you or himself of that. Rolling your eyes, you lightly push his shoulders, and he lets you roll him onto his back, hitting the mattress with a huff.

“We need to get you undressed.” You breathe, sitting up and reaching for the hem of his shirt. “Now we’re talking.” Tom smirks, his hands reaching out and grasping your hips, pulling you onto his lap, so you’re straddling him.

“I’m only undressing you, because you reek of alcohol.” You clarify, as he sits up, lifting his upper body off the bed so you can pull his shirt off. He raises his arms to make the process of taking his shirt off easier, and mumbles something incoherent; but if you had to guess, it was something along the lines of “That was mean”.

Once his shirt is off and discarded on the floor, you scoot down his lap, finishing the work he started on his belt earlier. Surprisingly, Tom remains silent, no flirtatious comment or sexual innuendo utters from his lips. Pulling the belt through the loops of his pants, you toss it aside, and move to the button and zipper - undoing them both before standing, to get a better angle, to tug his jeans down.

“Little help?” You ask, attempting and failing to the pull the jeans down again. “Tom?” You call to no avail, physical or otherwise. Groaning, you look up at Tom expectantly to find his eyes closed and mouth slightly ajar, soft snores slipping past his lips.

“Seriously?” You chided to yourself quietly, before attempting one last time to pull his pants down and conceding to give up with a heavy, defeated sigh. Since Tom is laying across the bed, you’re not able to get him under the covers, nor are you able to get yourself under them.

Lifting his head, you tuck a pillow under it, and grab a spare blanket from the closet to cover him with. Placing the duvet over the two of you, you snuggle into his warm welcoming side. You rest your face and hand on his bare chest, placing a quick kiss on his jaw before settling into him. Idly, you notice that Tessa has joined the two of you, resting on Tom’s opposite hip.

Tom stirs in his sleep briefly, before instinctively wrapping an arm around your back, holding you close to his side. The sound of his steady heart beat under your ear, and the gentle rocking of his chest as he takes in quiet breathes, lulls you back into a deep sleep.

Happy birthday to this absolutely gem. He deserves all the goodness in the world ❤️

Harrison James Osterfield ❤️

~4-7-96~

Tomholland2013 just made a post.

Me:

3000 Followers!!!!!

Omg that’s so crazy. Thank you so much. I don’t really know what to say apart from thank you and I appreciate you all so much. I never thought people would really see what I posted because I thought no one would care but this is so crazy.

I’ve been thinking of maybe doing some other stuff on my page but idk. If anyone has any suggestions let me know. I’ve considered maybe writing if that’s something people would like. I would carry on what I’m doing as well. I just want to appeal to everyone.

Sorry this may be a bit cringe but I’m honestly speechless. Thank you guys so muchhh

Love you all xxx

madmadmilk:

ok i didn’t actually see how badly tom was being treated over this until right now and…… all i gotta say is fuck you guys. 

in a time where we are meant to rise up, and uplift Black Lives, to put ourselves aside and amplify their message,,,…. people are taking this moment to bully, guilt, and agitate celebrities? what?? celebrities that they supposedly love and follow? what?? i don’t–– i don’t understand?

i truly don’t know what to say to those individuals….

your hatred and immaturity have been displayed for everyone to see and condemn. you’ve let the ‘excitement’ take over, and lost your priority. you let fantasy take over reality–– stupidly.

your forced ‘charity’ through prodding hate is, frankly, ugly and disgusting. 

celebrities are not gods or pillars of humanity…… of course their money and influence help–– but who fucking CARES what they do, publicly or privately. they are normal fucking people, and if they chose to delay or be silent–– that’s their own issue. not ours. sorry if your fave has disappointed you with silence, doesn’t mean they deserve to be bullied on their birthday of all days………….. people ARE disappointing, but WHY would you focus on that RIGHT FUCKING NOW……….. i’ve seen this “fandom” repeatedly and recklessly probe into his private life, with no concern over what they destroy to get there. ya’ll are so fucking stupid.

signal boost things are actually relevant instead of @-ing a boy who’s never gonna write you back

fuck you guys honestly

I couldn’t have put it better myself. The amount of hate Tom and so many other celebrities are getting at the moment for this reason is ridiculous.

Tom has posted about it. He’s shown us that he understands what’s going on in the world right now. Showing any support at all is better than showing none. Anything someone does for the BLM movement to show support is a good thing.

With everything going on in the world right now, people should be being kind to each other and helping each other. There is enough hate in the world as there is, there’s no reason to add more especially when Tom is at least doing something to support the movement.