kiss me more
A/N: Kinda thought a lot about "Kiss Me More" by Doja Cat and SZA a lot when writing this. So here you go, my lads, here's 1.6k of basically just pure blowjob smut!
The movie playing on the TV in Tom’s room is long forgotten, his lips on yours far more important right now. It had barely been on for ten minutes before his hand was up your shirt, his mouth on yours, and you were pinned underneath him. But, to be honest, it's what you expected to happen.
Freshly returned from filming in another country, Tom has barely let you leave his side. He's always been clingy after reuniting with you, but, this time, it's on a whole new level. You can hardly complain, though - not with the amount of times he's made you cum in the last week.
Sadly, all of that had to come to a temporary end. Your period made its arrival, and while you knew it was going to happen, it bummed you out nonetheless. So when Tom's hand glides down your front, toying with the waistband of your sweatpants, you're forced to pull away from his kiss.
"Tom…" you pant, breathless, and he gives you a somewhat worried look. "I'm on my period, remember?"
"Oh, shit, yeah," he says, exhaling rather deeply, and even though he tries to hide it, his disappointment is still clear. "I'll keep my hands to myself, then." He shifts a little when moving his hand up to rest beside your head, and as he does, you get to feel just how disappointed he is. His bulge, hard and firm, presses into your thigh, and it gives you an idea.
You may not really be able to get off right now, but that doesn't mean Tom can't. When he leans down to kiss you again, you gladly accept it. Your hand travels down to where his cock is straining against his sweats, palming him through the soft fabric, and you can't help but giggle when Tom helplessly moans into your mouth.
He breaks the kiss, his eyebrows raised. "What are you playing at, darling?"
You grin at him, offering a small shrug. "I just wanna make you feel good, Tommy," You emphasize your words by rubbing his bulge again, and he whines, unable to stop himself from grinding into the palm of your hand.
"But what about you?"
"It doesn't have to be about me," you say, placing a soft peck on his chin. "You've been loving on me all week. Let me love on you a little," He's just about to protest, but then you put your finger over his lips, shutting him up. "Let me make you feel good. Please?"
He hesitates for a moment, but then he nods and presses a kiss to the tip of your finger. You giggle, your heart fluttering, and Tom smiles at the sound of your laugh. After that, he rolls off you and lands on the mattress, the springs squeaking slightly at the movement.
You crawl down the bed and climb off it until you're kneeling on the floor at the foot end. You gently tug on his legs, and he gets the hint, shuffling down the length of the bed. Tom sits up, inhaling sharply at the sight of you on your knees for him, and enthusiastically helps you peel off his sweatpants and boxers. His cock springs up once it's freed from its confinement, hard and already leaking precum from the tip. You're just about to reach out to touch him when he interrupts.
"Wait!" Tom speaks out, and you halt instantly. "Can you… can you take your shirt off?" You snort at his request. You'd actually been worried about him for a second there. Nevertheless, you pull your T-shirt over your head, rolling your eyes at the way he ogles your chest, now only covered by a bra. “That’s my girl.”
With a smile, you finally touch him. You spread the precum over his tip, and Tom sucks in a breath, his thighs clenching and his cock twitching. Teasing him is always fun. He lets out a strangled whimper when you withdraw your hand and spit in the palm of it, well aware of what's going to happen now. His hands grip the edge of the mattress as you finally grasp his length, and you quite enjoy the groan that escapes him.
You start with slow strokes, warming him up gently, and the way he bites his lip to hold back a moan has your pussy clenching around nothing. Fuck, he looks good. You watch Tom intently as he reacts to your touch, and it makes you giggle when you see just how quickly he gets worked up, his cheeks pink and his breath labored. You've always had that effect on Tom, but, to be fair, he's always had the same effect on you too. Even his mere touch is enough to send you into overdrive.
When he releases that telltale, drawn-out whine you know so well, you remove your hand from him. He's getting close, and this isn’t the way you want him to cum. And just when Tom’s about to complain, you lean in further and place a little kiss on his tip, and the words die on his lips.
You begin by just giving him a few kitten licks, but it's enough to make him gasp your name, and you suspect that this really won't take long at all. You rest your hands on his thick thighs, caressing the firm muscles softly. In all honesty, you've lost count of just how many times you've fallen apart on his thighs.
Feeling yourself get distracted, you try and shake off your thoughts so you can get back to business. Back on track, you make your tongue travel up from the base of him, and his cock twitches delightfully when you swirl the tip of your tongue around the head. You're teasing Tom again at this point, and it is a bit unfair, to be honest, but it's fun to watch how desperate he gets. Maybe, if the situation was different, he'd scold you for teasing him like this and leave your ass bruised and sore as punishment, but the ball seems to be in your court today.
"Please, darling," he begs, impatient and needy. "Please just… do something."
"You're gonna have to be more specific than that, Tommy," you say with a voice you barely recognize. It's low and seductive, but it makes you feel quite powerful. "Tell me what you want."
He exhales shakily. "I want… I want your mouth on me… on my cock. Please, love?"
You shrug rather smugly. "Well, since you asked so nicely…"
And then you finally give him what he wants. With a deep breath, you take Tom in your mouth. His reaction is instant, his thighs jerking slightly under your touch, and your name falls from his lips in a moan. Your hand wraps around the base of his cock and moves in sync with your mouth, knowing that that's just how he likes it. You go slow and steady; you don't want Tom to topple over the edge just yet.
His hands are still gripping the mattress, his knuckles white, and you know he's trying his hardest not to buck into your mouth. Tom never wants to hurt you - at least, never without your consent. And while you do let him fuck your mouth from time to time, it's not what you want today.
But, as a treat, you pull away from him for a second, inhaling deeply before you wrap your lips around him again and take him as far as you can. When the tip of his cock touches the back of your throat, he practically shouts out a string of profanities, and it's so loud that you're sure the others in the house must've heard. It doesn't matter much to you right now, though. Let them hear.
You're fighting off your gag reflex, trying to breathe through your nose, and tears are forming in your eyes, but Tom looks so pretty that you don't give up just yet. So you keep your head where it is until he, rather unwillingly, pulls you up himself.
He's completely breathless, needing a few seconds before he can even speak. "Babe, I'm… I'm close," You can't help but smile when you hear just how affected he is.
You appreciate Tom's warning, returning to your previous tactic, your lips around the head of him and your hand jerking the base. His one hand lets go of the mattress and caresses your cheek instead, and when you look up to make eye contact, Tom's staring at you with such a wonderful mixture of lust and love that it makes both your pussy and your heart melt a little.
He gasps in that special way you've picked up on by now, and you know what's about to happen. Drawing back a little, you rest the tip of his cock on the tip of your tongue, and, with one last jerk of your hand, he finally gets to cum.
Tom curses uncontrollably as he paints your tongue white, his hand now holding your jaw in place. His head is leant back, his eyes screwed shut, and his mouth is half-open. He looks absolutely beautiful.
You watch him as he slowly comes down from his high, his eyes blinking open and finding your face immediately. And Tom watches you as you swallow his cum and put on a little show for him, licking your lips for any leftovers.
"Fucking hell," he says, completely overwhelmed, and falls back against the bed, and you laugh, satisfied with your work. You crawl onto the bed as well, settling on top of him. "You're gonna be the death of me, darling."
taglist: @spideycents @linanilssonfurberg @to-the-road @hallecarey1 @harryhollandsgirlfriend
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TIWWCHNT angst with Tom Hollanddd? please x
A/N - Thanks for the request! I hope you enjoy :) I made this RichKid!Tom. I do not know Tom Holland, nor do I claim to. I don't own the song lyrics used, all credit to owners.
Warnings - swearing, mentions of drinking and drugs.
It was so nice throwing big parties, even giving them a second chance for our friends, but that was once upon a time, and I’m over that stage of my life now. It stopped bringing me joy. Having just returned from a steak dinner and wine tasting at a friend's new mansion, I’m heading home for the night, my plans having changed in favour of some alone time with my partner. I even bought some Dom on the way home as a treat, and I’m excited to see Tom, admiring the hunk of silver on my finger as I head up.
I’m shaking my head, I’m locking the gate behind me as I drive my Rolls into the great expanse of driveway...
I’m going to murder Tom fucking Holland.
This is why we can’t have nice things, because Tom fucking ruins them every single goddamn time. It’s been the case ever since you first got together. He knew cleanliness and keeping things pristine was in your nature, but he ain’t reading what they call me, so he dived in head first. You’re difficult to live with, you know that, but you and Tom agreed.
It was once so nice doing that once upon a time, jumping in the pool from the balcony, drunk and high and living my life so freely while I was young… But I’m not in my party years anymore, and I’ve passed that date where I can get sloshed and off my face only to wake up the next day and repeat it; electing a calmer, more modest lifestyle while maintaining the lavish and party nature of my wealth, life and personality.
Tom and I were the glamorous couple amongst our friends, always hosting the best parties with huge crowds and sponsors, champagne seas, fancy new lines of alcohol, influencers, ice sculptures, designer gowns and suits… It was one hell of a way to live.
I’m loath to say Tom was more than a little disappointed to pack up the life but, moving forwards in our relationship and lives, he agreed—especially since kids are a prospect in the near future. And he’s gone back on every word, broken every promise.
I lock the car, and unplug the exterior speakers, yelling “PARTY’S OVER!” at the top of my lungs, and watching the crowd disperse. I storm into the house a moment later, finding Tom slumped over a chaise-longue with a beer in his hand.
“You shady fucking arsehole!” I scream shrilly.
He blinks his chocolate eyes and stirs to life, smiling lazily up at me, his hair stuck to his clammy forehead..
“Hey baby. Thought you were gonna stay out.”
“Oh, did you?” I laugh, eyes widened. “Is that why you let our fifteen million pound mansion turn into this pigsty?” I wave my arms around me, everything so expensive in utter disarray, drinks spilt everywhere, the stench of sweat lingering instead of the room sprays you ensure to use liberally in every room.
Judging by the state of things, apparently there are no rules when you show up here, a heavy bass beat literally rattling the thirty thousand dollar hand blown Italian glass chandelier hanging in your ballroom, which looks like a rubbish pit, marble floor soaked in beer.
“No, baby. It was just a small get together that grew outta hand. Don’t worry baby,” he makes grabby hands at me, but I avoid his dirty paws on my very expensive suit, “I’ll clean.”
“It’s the principle, Tom!” I hurl his bottle away.
“Baby calm down, I’m sorry.” he pleads.
“But you stabbed me in the back while shaking my hand, or worse, fucking me. And therein lies the issue, boyfriends don't try to trick you!” I say, “Tom, if you loved me you wouldn’t have done this. I can’t see past this.”
“Oh just get a fucking grip doll, it was one party.”
“Yeah, but how many others have there been when I’ve been out? Have you cleared the place up knowing I’d be away for the weekend? I’m sorry, but I want you out by Monday morning.”
This is gonna hit him hard, because I’m not the only person he’s lost lately, but if only he weren’t so shady, it wouldn’t be a damn problem.
I'd spent the night quite happily putting the poisonous old gossip to lie with my girlfriends, raising my final glass to them. Looks like I’ll need them even more, now. “Here's a toast to my real friends. They don't care about the he said, she said.”
They should've, and I should've listened. Friends don’t try to trick you—how could I believe they would, only to come home to every word they said being correct?
No,” his eyes begin to well up with tears as he sinks to his knees on the tiled floor, “I’m so sorry. It won’t happen again. We can do this, I love you so much!”
No he doesn't. He wouldn’t have deceived me and ransacked our home if he did, but I pop open the Dom and paint on a brave face, snatching an empty glass from the hand furnished oak sideboard. “Y’know what? And here's to you...
'Cause forgiveness is a nice thing to do, and we can move on from this can’t we?”
I don’t even manage to suppress my giggles for thirty seconds at his dopey look before I’m bursting out into a fit of laughter. “Hahaha, I can't even say it with a straight face! This is why we can’t have nice things tom and we’ll never be able to because you break them and I have to take them away. Did you think I wouldn't hear all the shit you said about me?”
That’s what they were warning you about all night. You should’ve trusted them when they said he called me a pushover and worse, not believing the tales of his antics. “You broke us, so now I’m taking that away. We’re done.”
“WAIT!” he sobs, the crack in his tenor voice evident as he tugs at his chestnut locks. I don’t budge, though, shoving him off by his oversized pink shirt when he tries to grab me.
“This is why we can’t have nice things, darling. Find me when you’ve grown up.”
I would take an axe to a mended face, but walking away from him, my heels clacking on the marble floor and sounding where he’s drunkenly crying seems to be punishment enough. For the last time with him inside, I’m locking the gates.
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