Tom Holland One Shots

Three Course Meal (SMUT/Mature)

It was Friday night.  As long as Tom was in town and you didn't have too work, both of you agreed that Friday night was date night.  Usually, seeing as both of you spent a lot of time out and about, this meant the two of you picked a dish and made whatever you guys wanted to, or had in the house.  Tonight, it was Italian.

"Do you want any help with the pasta, love?"  Tom wrapped his arms around your waist and pressed a kiss to your right cheek.  You grinned and stirred with the wooden spoon, shaking your head.  Tom pressed another kiss, this time on your earlobe.  You shivered.

"I think I'm good.  How's the garlic bread?"  You asked him, smelling the fresh garlic in the kitchen.  He hummed into your ear.  The hair on the back of your neck stood up.

"I just put it in the oven, so we have about twenty minutes," he breathed out.  His lips grazed your neck.  You caved in his arms, to which he held you tighter.  You giggled and put down the wooden spatula, turning to face your boyfriend.  His hair was unkempt and his brown eyes were wide when you met his eyes.

"What about the pasta?"  You questioned.  With one swift movement, Tom's hand turned the burner off.  He smiled, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips.  He tasted like garlic.  You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling away for a second.  "Have you been eating the dinner before it's ready, Tom?"

"Maybe.  I was really looking forward to our appetizer," Tom whispered.  He hovered just above your lips.  His hands held your waist gently, pulling you to him.  You smirked.

"What are we having, honey?"  You breathed into his ear.  He curled into your body, but you attached your lips to his neck before he could do anything more.  He moaned, which further made you continue down his neck.  His fingers gripped you even tighter.

"Anything you'd like," he said breathlessly.  His hand slipped under your pants and onto your bare skin.  You removed yourself from his neck and glanced at him.  He had a cheeky grin on his face.  He knew exactly what he was doing to you.  Except you knew better.

"Anything I'd like?"  You ask as your hands move to the front of his jeans.  He gulped, just looking at you.  He nodded, leaning down to kiss you once more.  His hands fumbled with the hem of your t-shirt and you pushed them down.  His lips parted and he squinted at you.  

Then his hand went lower.  You tossed your head back as his fingers touched your center.  His head returned to your neck, pressing kisses as his fingers massaged your clit.  His free hand reached under your shirt.  You gripped the island in your shared kitchen with both hands, until his hand left your pants.  You whipped your head down to see him pulling your sweats to the ground.  

"Tom," you begged as he knelt down.  You felt his lips moving slowly up your thighs, until his warm breath touched your center.  Your hips buckled and he chuckled.  You looked down to him.  He rose up to your level, kissing you and lifting you onto the island to sit.  Then his tongue went to work.

"Mmm," he hummed as your heart began to race and you struggled to focus.  In the pit of your stomach, it started to grow.

"Please, Tom," you whined.  One of your hands reached for his head to let him know to keep going, but he appeared from between your legs with a grin on his face.  His hands ventured up your shirt.  You leaned on the island, shaking.  All you wanted was for Tom to continue.  

But he returned to your neck while one hand worked down below, making circles and pulsing in and out of your warm center.  You wrapped your arms around his neck, holding onto him as the warmth began to spread throughout your body.  It exploded, reaching every inch of your body.  You shook in Tom's arms.  Both of his hands held your waist.  You caught your breath.

"How was it?"  Tom asked, with the same cheeky smile on his face.  He left a soft kiss on your lips.  One of his hands turned on the burner once more.  He helped you to slide off the counter, pulling your pants up to their original position.  

"What about you?"  You asked him as he left you, moving to the oven to check on the garlic bread.  Before he went to wash his hands, he paused and looked at you.

"There's still dessert, sweetie."