So, what’s for breakfast? - Tom Holland Imagine.
|| summary: morning sex with tom!!
|| author’s note: smut!! this was requested by an anon, you weren’t very specific on what you wanted - hope you enjoyed the direction i went :)
The, annoyingly familiar, sound of a loud ping drags you out of a deep sleep. Squinting one eye open, you peer over at the bedside table, raising your head slightly. A message from your mom has lit up your phone screen.
Hey baby, just checking in. I didn’t see you before you left, and Janice said she saw Tom and you leaving in a hurry. Hope everything’s okay, pumpkin. Love you x
A small smile quirks up the sides of your lips as you drop your head again. Turning onto your back, you stretch out your tender limbs, relaxing their tense state from the interesting night you had before. You can’t help your grin, as you begin recalling the events from the previous evening.
Tom and you, had attended your mom’s friend’s wedding. It was her third marriage, so everyone there was at least in their early thirties - except for you two. To make things more interesting, Tom had decided to play a game of cat and mouse - seeing who could tease the other more.
It ended, how those games usually end, in a lot of sexual frustration. Not being able to bear it any longer, the two of you hurried home after cake was served. You wish you could say you made it until then, but admittedly - you had sex in Tom’s car… still in the parking lot. Tom also had you in the walkway of your apartment… and on this bed.
Your lips quirk up in a micheavous smile, as you reminisce on all the things he did to you. Sighing contentedly, you look over to find you’re unaccompanied in bed. You sit up, causing the blankets to fall to your waist, reminding you that you’re still naked. You shuffle out of bed, grabbing Tom’s discarded button up off the floor, as you head into the bathroom.
Taking one look at yourself in the mirror, you immediately blush crimson. Instinctively, your thighs squeeze together as your eyes flick over all the marks on your body. You have multiple hickies on your neck, breasts, and stomach. Closing your eyes briefly, you allow yourself to reimagine Tom’s skilled mouth on your body.
Shaking your head, you bring yourself back to reality, as you slip Tom’s shirt over your shoulders - cuffing the selves and buttoning all, but the top four, buttons; so’s to reveal a tantalizing amount of cleavage. Noting that the shirt stops just above your mid thigh, you decide on not wearing panties. You quickly wash your face, and brush your teeth, before wandering out to the kitchen.
As soon as you reach the hallway, you’re met with the irreplaceable smell of brewing coffee. A hint of a smile tugs at your lips, as you continue down the hall. You peak around the corner, and are met with the welcome sight of Tom’s naked back. His perfectly sculptured backside, is enough to get you excited and weak in the knees. He’s dressed in nothing, but your favorite pair of his sweats - the grey ones. Tiptoeing over to him, you wrap your arms around his waist, startling him a bit.
“Good morning, sunshine.” Tom smiles, looking down at you, over his shoulder.
“Morning.” You smile at innocently up at him, before tugging his coffee cup out of his hand, and pulling it around him.
He turns to face you, as you take a few steps back, his left eyebrow raising in question. Leaning against the kitchen island, you continuing to sip his coffee and smile at him. “Sleep okay?” He asks, crossing his arms over his chest, watching you intently. You nod, pulling the cup away from your lips. “You?” He shrugs and purses his lips. “It was alright.”
Your mouth pops open at his audacity, causing you to scoff. “Ass.” You tease. “Excuse me?” Tom challenges, uncrossing his arms. You shake your head, and hand him back his coffee. Walking over to fridge, you make sure to tease him alittle by swaying your hips.
Opening its doors, you get on your tiptoes to explore the fridge’s condiments, allowing his shirt to raise even further up your thighs. “So,” you sigh. “What’s for breakfast?” Suddenly, warm hands are making their way up your thighs to grip your waist. “You.” Tom growls, inches from your ear, his hot breath tickling your neck.
Before your brain can process this, Tom lifts, and then, places you on the kitchen island. You gasp at the sudden sensation, of the cool surface against your heated skin, and Tom takes this opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. One of his hands falls to the small of your back, holding you against him, while the other reaches up to cup your face - controlling the kiss. Immediately, your legs wrap around his waist and pull him forward, to close the distance between the two of you.
You moan at the friction you feel against his sweats, and begin grinding your hips into it. The feeling of his clothed erection, against your exposed skin is a unexpectedly heady sensation. You hear him groan into your mouth, as his tongue massages against yours. Breaking away from the kiss, Tom nips at your lower lip, before untangling himself from you.
You move to protest, until you see him turn and reopen the fridge, digging through it. After a beat, he turns to face you with a bottle of carmel sauce in his hand. Your eyebrows furrow together, as he dips his index and middle finger into the container. “I told you,” he explains, “you’re going to be breakfast.”
When your mouth pops open, Tom places his two covered fingers on your bottom lip. “Suck.” He says, watching you intently, his eyes heated. Saying nothing, you grab his hand and bring his index finger into your mouth, sucking hard. You hear his sharp intake of breath, and watch as his bottom lip gets caught between his teeth. Your tongue swirls around his finger, before you pull it out of your mouth, and nibble at the tip of it. He watches, as you then take his middle finger into your mouth, repeating the same motion as before.
To be extra thorough, you pull both fingers into your mouth as your tongue flicks up the sides, and in between them. Tom licks his lips as you pull his fingers out your mouth, kissing the tips of them. “Good girl.” Tom rasps, as he leans down to kiss you, his hand trailing down your body. You moan into his mouth, when his fingers slide past your wet folds and then slip inside of you. “Jesus, Tom.” You groan, tilting your head back at the welcome sensation. His fingers curl inside you, as his thumb circles your clit. “Baby, you’re so fucking wet for me.” You close your eyes, as Tom leans down to kiss your neck - retracing his marks from last night.
Suddenly, he pulls his fingers out of you, causing you to whimper in protest. Your eyes flicker open, “Why’d you stop?” Looking up, you find Tom sucking his fingers clean, his eyes are closed as he savors each finger’s taste of you. “Because, I wanted a taste. I’m hungry.” You blink up at him, as his arm snakes around your waist, pulling you back upright.
His fingers begin unbottoning your(his) shirt, slowly working their way down. Once the shirt is undone, he uses his index finger to push it open, revealing your naked body to him. He clicks his tongue as he eyes you up and down. “You are so fucking beautiful. You know that?” You blush, feeling his intense gaze on you, and your eyes avoid him by looking up at ceiling.
A cold, thick, liquid draining down your chest calls your attention back down. Tom has begun dripping the carmel sauce down your chest, allowing it spill over your breasts and down your stomach. Your nipples harden at the cool tempature, and you bite your lip in anticipation.
“You’re going to taste so good, pretty girl.” Tom admits idly, his eyes growing in hunger as they watch the sauce work it’s way down your chest. After a beat, he pushes you onto your back and pulls your body down - so half of you is sprawled on top of the counter, while the other half wraps around his waist to hold itself up. Using one arm he holds you up, while the other rests on the counter to balance the two of you in this position.
His tongue instantly starts on your collarbones, slowly working his way across them to lick up all of the carmel. One of your hands falls down, to help prop yourself up, and the other digs into his hair, before sliding down his back and flattening against it - holding him close. “God, Tom. You’re so good.” You encourage, as his mouth continues lower, his tongue working it’s way over the tops of your breasts. “Tell me, darling,” Tom breathes against your skin, “tell me how good it feels.” His mouth restarts its process, sucking along the sides of your breasts and working their way in.
“So good, Tom.” You moan. “Please.” You beg, not sure exactly what you want, just knowing you don’t want him to stop. Ever. He pulls one of your breasts into his mouth, and his tongue begins rolling over your nipple. “Fuck.” You groan, as your hips buck up suddenly, grinding against his growing erection. He moans around your nipple, before pulling it out of mouth and working his way over the other breast - repeating the same process.
Once he pulls that breast out of his mouth, you cup the back of his neck and tug his mouth to yours. His lips are sticky, and he tastes of carmel and coffee. Your tongue is greedy for him, as it slips into his mouth, massaging against him. He exhales heavily, as his hand holding the two of you up, reaches to cup your face. You both fall back onto the island, as Tom’s hands slips under your shirt to hold your backside. You hardly notice the contact your head made with rough island surface, as your hands trail down his back to cup his ass, making him grind against your heat.
“Please, Tom.” You mumble against his lips, and he knows exactly what you want. Holding himself up with one hand, he leans down with the other to tug his sweats off enough to free his hardened length. Wasting no time, Tom slides into you with ease and groans loudly as your insides clench around him. “Fuck,” he groans, closing his eyes briefly as he props himself onto his elbows.
You moan loudly as his hips swirl against yours, before beginning to thrust back and forth. Your arms loop around his neck, your breasts raising and falling as he reaches a more punishing rhythm. You feel your muscles begin tightening and the familiar heat grow in your stomach.
Suddenly, Tom leans up into a standing position and pulls you to edge of the counter. Dropping one of your legs to the side, and pulling the other higher up his waist, he begins hitting you at a new and deeper spot. You gasp, and throw your head back, your hips bucking against his to meet his new pace. One of your hands falls down to the counter, to hold yourself up, while the other wraps around Tom’s shoulders.
Leaning down, Tom takes your mouth in his as you feel yourself building again. One of Tom’s hands reaches down between you, and his thumb begins circling your clit. Your toes curl and you break away from the kiss to groan loudly. His hips and thumb continue their same momentum, and he has to snake his arm around your back to keep you up right, as your orgasm rips through you. “Tom, oh my god. Yes.” You’re practically screaming at this point, but you don’t care, your orgasm is too powerful to control yourself. “Shit, baby. God.” Tom’s head falls to the crook of your neck as he continue his same thrusts, pushing himself over the edge.
His hips grow sloppy, as he rides both of you through your highs, before he collapses against you, causing both of you to fall back. You stay like this, as you catch your breath; his head on your chest, and your fingers stroking his naked back. “Holy fuck.” He mumbles, standing straight, and pulling his sweats up. “I know.” You agree, rebuttoning your shirt - ignoring the feeling of sticky carmel on your skin.
“How’s that for breakfast?” Tom grins, leaning down to kiss you sweetly. You shrug and purse your lip, mimicking him earlier. “It’s alright.” Tom rolls his eyes, before kissing your hair. You hop off the island and stretch out your limbs. “So, really,” you say opening the fridge and glancing over at Tom. “What’s for breakfast?”