ok imagine that you are always seeking tom out for cuddles when you're cold (even when he's in meetings), but then finding out that he keeps the mansion at a cold temperature on purpose just so that you always have an excuse to cuddle him alwaysssss im softtttt
this is such a cute idea I think my heart exploded when I wrote it :’)
—soft!mob!tom monday—
It’s perplexing, really. Given Tom’s wealth and his riches, you’ve never been able to figure out why his house is always so chilly.
You’re sure it never used to be like this. When you’d moved in over winter, it’d been warm - the mansion running warm due to a very complex heating system. Granted, even that had never been enough to keep you completely happy. Over January and February, you’d frequently found yourself trailing the corridors, searching for your boyfriend and his warm, warm arms. You’d made a bit of a habit of it even - somehow always ending up in his lap in the office, or sprawled across him in the study, clinging to his heat. Once spring had rolled around, you’d thought your case of the chills would stop, but no.
If anything, the mansion only feels colder now that it’s late spring. You’ve asked Tom about it before, only to be met with a suspicious level of reassurance from your boyfriend, who seems to flush every time you mention the heating situation. You’d learnt to drop it and deal with it, realising that it’s just one of those things that don’t quite make sense, and besides - there are far worse things to complain about than the temperature of your boyfriend’s mansion.
But you’re cold. It’s 4pm, and you are so cold, and there’s only one thing you can do to help the situation. Forget jumpers and extra layers - the only thing that ever manages to bring the warmth back to you is the feeling of Tom’s arms wrapped around you, so you set off on a mission, walking from the library in the general direction of his office.
Rocking back on your heels, you knock on the door, pulling the sleeves of your jumper down and holding them in the palms of your hands, your teeth almost chattering. After a moment, you hear the sound of Tom’s voice, drifting through the door as he calls out, “Come in!”
You slip into the room, raising a hand in greeting. “Hi,” you say, glancing around the office. Tom’s not alone - there are three other men settled in the chairs in front of his desk. Two of them you don’t recognise, but the third is Harrison, Tom’s best mate, and he smiles at you.
“Hi, darling,” Tom says. He pushes back from his desk, tossing down his pen as he stands up. His inquisitive eyes take you in, zeroing in on the way you’re rubbing at your arms, drowning in an oversized hoodie. “Are you cold again?” He asks, lips quirking into a soft smile.
You nod as you step forward, sinking into his hold easily. Immediately you sigh, your cheek pressing against the crisp white shirt that covers Tom’s chest. He runs hot, constantly, and whilst that can prove troublesome when it’s a warm evening, right now, there’s nothing you enjoy more than his body heat.
“Thanks,” you murmur. You bite your lip, remembering about the other people in the room, and reluctantly you pull away. Tom’s hands slip down to your waist, and he looks at you, eyes softly caressing the curves of your face. “I should let you-”
“Nonsense.” Tom pecks your cheek before taking your hand and leading you back over to the desk. As you’ve done a thousand times before, he slips into his seat and pulls you down with him. You settle in his lap, looping one arm around his neck, settling sideways over him as your other hand reaches out for his desk and picks up your book - your favourite book, which you keep in his office, for occasions such as these. “Comfy?” He asks.
You hum, enjoying the feeling of his hand holding your back and the warmth of his shoulder against your cheek. “Yeah,” you reply, biting your lip as you look up at him gratefully. “Thanks, baby.”
“Any time.”
Tom gets back to his discussion with his men, and you enjoy stealing his body heat as you rest in his lap, flicking through the pages of your book with ease. It’s relaxing, listening to the background hum of his voice, feeling the vibrations that shoot out from his chest as he speaks. Whenever the volume gets a little too high, you feel his eyes flicker over you, and then he corrects himself, lowering his voice and rolling a hand over your back in smooth apology. You’re like a well-oiled machine, so familiar with these late-afternoon snuggle sessions that they’re second-nature.
After about half an hour, the meeting seems to conclude, and the two men leave the room. When only Harrison remains, you bookmark your page and sit up a little straighter, looking over at your friend as he stares at you and Tom, an amused expression on his face.
“You’re both very funny,” Harrison says, standing slowly from the chair.
Tom wraps both of his arms around your middle, pulling you nearer protectively as he kisses your temple several times in quick succession.
“What do you mean?” You ask, amused. One of your hands shifts to rest in Tom’s hair, toying gently with his soft brown strands.
Harrison rolls his eyes. “Every day you end up doing this,” he says.
“Because it’s always so bloody cold in this house,” you reply.
“Yeah, and whose fault is that?” Harrison replies cryptically.
You furrow your eyebrows, sitting straighter. “What?” You say, looking around at Tom. When you see the sheepish look on his face, you furrow your eyebrows. “Tom, what is he talking about?”
“Harrison!” Tom grunts, a flash of irritation passing through his eyes when he looks at his right-hand man.
Harrison winces, throwing both of his hands in the air before rapidly walking to the door. “Bye,” he says, scurrying out before another word can be said.
You turn on Tom, pushing up from his lap and repositioning yourself so you’re straddling him, a leg hanging either side of his thighs.
“Tom?” You say, looking at him curiously. You cup his cheeks in your hands, smoothing a thumb through his ruffled eyebrow as you stare him down, a soft smirk on your face. “What’s Harrison talking about?”
Tom sags, biting his lower lip. His cheeks tickle pink, and he looks away as he mutters something incomprehensible.
“What was that?” You ask, grinning. It isn’t often you see him so bashful, so shy. Tom’s tender with you, always, but you’ve never seen his facade drop so low in his office like this. You coax him around, kissing him softly and slipping your hands back to his hair as you press your forehead to his. “What’s going on?”
Tom sighs.
“I might’ve got them to set the thermostat really low,” he mutters, “Because I like it when you come in and interrupt my meetings so we can cuddle.”
You just about melt, right there and then.
“Aww,” you coo, pouting softly. You run your hands through his hair, lifting your lips to kiss his forehead. “Mr Tough Guy likes his cuddles.”
Tom scowls, squeezing your hips. “I like your cuddles,” he counters, before bringing your lips together in a warm kiss. “You’re making me soft,” he whispers against your mouth.
You smile, pressing your nose to his. “Do you mind?”
Idea for mob!tom being this big bad boss bit when he gets home his 20ish son bakes him a cake and tom is like what did i do to deserve an angel like u
Cute
He was livid. A business deal had gone sour and he'd had to beat the shit out of him only to get him to agree to a half assed deal.
Before he even got to the door, he could smell vanilla and heat. It suddenly brightened his mood knowing exactly what it was. He huffs his last little bit of anger before shouldering the door open and closing it behind him, finding the kitchen warm and smelling heavenly. Greg stands at the oven in your bright pink, polka dotted apron, that same tuft of hair Tom sticks back at the front of his hairline bobbing in a frizzy mess when he looks up at his father,
"Hey." Tom nods acknowledgingly,
"Thought you didn't bake if I was out?" Greg shrugs,
"Got a sudden urge. It's your favorite by the way. Vanilla with chocolate frosting. Just gotta let the… cakes cool." Greg mumbles, glancing up when Tom approaches,
"What's up? What's the matter?" Tom shakes his head, dragging his son in, for a hug,
"Nothing. Just… been a rough day."
"I can tell. Your knuckles are all busted. You know mum'll kill you if she sees that." Greg says. Tom nods, looking at his hands over Greg's shoulder,
"Yeah I know." He sighs. Greg frowns,
"Are you really this upset about this gross as mobster you went to meet with?" Tom shakes his head, pulling back,
"No… I was pissed but… you're always here to remind me that you and your mother are the most important people in my life. I don't know what I did to deserve either of you but… I'm glad I did it. You are the best thing that's ever happened to me." He tells Greg who blinks for a moment before nodding with a sly smile,
"You're so cheesy. You're lucky I love you too dad." Greg mutters. Tom snorts,
"I'm cheesy. Says the one wearing his mother's apron."
"Hey, the suit is Gucci. I was not getting anything on it." Sitting at the island table, Tom chuckles,
"Mum has said for years she saw so much of me in you and I told her I didn't see it… now I can't stop seeing it." Greg chuckles again,
"You say that like it's a bad thing." He murmurs looking to his father. Tom can't help but smile, proud of the little family the two of you had made.
ok but "Why are you getting jealous, baby?. You know I would fingerfuck you right in front of her." with mob!Tom
me reading this request and going !!! lmfao. i love it. nsfw 18+ !!! extended warnings under the cut <3
–it’s mob monday–
extended warnings: jealousy, mentions of alcohol, fingering (fem receiving), slight degradation (calls her a slut once). i like this a lot tho hehe.
–––––
The mansion is decorated to the nines, with glittering chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, a temporary bar standing in the centre of the atrium, and a sea of serving staff covering the ground floor. There’s a string quartet in the corner, and there are so many diamonds hanging from necks and wrists that it’d rival the most exclusive boutique in Mayfair.
Tom likes to throw these get-togethers a few times a year. He invites everyone he knows—partners, foes, suppliers. Everyone gathers in your house and mingles cordially over champagne and canapés, pretending that they aren’t all armed with deadly weapons and surrounded by security personnel. It’s always a special occasion, and it’s one of the few times a year that Tom can relax when he’s around these people.
You know he enjoys it, so you always try your best to play your part. You’re in a long, sweeping tulle dress, tinted with your favourite colour and flattering you in a way that Tom adores. Your breasts ache, still tingling with the reminders of the tough lovebites your boyfriend had sucked to their underside when he’d first seen you in the dress. You’d been interrupted before your shenanigans had gone further, and you’ve been aching all night. Your arousal has only been made worse as you’ve watched Tom waltz around all evening, strolling from conversation to conversation with confidence, a broad smile, and an incredibly tight-fitting tux wrapped around his figure.
You’ve been holding back the temptation to jump him all evening, but you fear you won’t be able to hold it in much longer. Your skin prickles with want, the space between your legs throbbing, and you can’t stop yourself from peeling away from your conversation and moving off through the crowds in search of Tom.
It doesn’t take you long to find him, leaning up against the bar, champagne glass in one hand, the other arm resting on the bartop. You find yourself scowling as you recognise who he’s talking with: Monique, the leader of one of the other gangs in London. She’s always cosy with him, always emits an awful aura of intrigue whenever she’s around your boyfriend, and whilst you trust Tom more than anything, you don’t trust her.
You observe them for a few moments, trying to talk yourself down from acting unreasonably, but then she reaches out and rests a hand on Tom’s shoulder, and you can’t stop yourself from strolling over to them. You approach from behind, wrapping a hand around Tom’s waist and feeling him stiffen until you press a quick kiss to the side of his face. You move purposefully, knocking Monique’s hand off his shoulder as you settle at his side, resting your temple on Tom’s shoulder as you look at the other woman.
“Evening,” you say curtly. “You don’t mind if I borrow Tom for a moment, do you, Monique?” You pause for less than half a second before smiling, sickly sweet. “Brilliant. Thanks.”
Tom’s smirking, you can feel it on his face as you take his hand and pull him away from the bar. He catches up to you, murmuring into your ear as he lets you guide him, “that was a bit rude, love.”
You pout, only stopping when you’ve pulled Tom into a hallway. It leads off into three separate rooms, all full of your guests, mingling and laughing, but the hallway itself is vacant. You lean against a wall and tug on the front of Tom’s suit, jerking him closer until he’s pressing up against you and you’re able to bury your hands in his hair.
“Sorry,” you mutter, your jaw set in a hard line. “You know I don’t like her.”
Tom scatters a few soft kisses to the side of your face, slowly wearing down your hardened demeanour. “Why are you getting jealous, baby?” He murmurs, lips held by your ears. He briefly bites your earlobe, causing you to moan. “You know I’d fingerfuck you right in front of her.”
You whimper, pulling on your lower lip as you feel one of his hands stroke over your hip before sinking between your legs.
“Tom,” you say, voice breathless. You look over his shoulder, eyes skimming the vacant hallway. You part your legs. “Someone could walk in.”
“And?” You can feel him smirking against your neck as he bunches the side of your dress up at your waist, giving his hand easy access to slip up to your centre. “Fuck, love, no underwear?” Tom pulls back, eyes glinting almost black. “You’re soaked,” he coos, stroking two fingers through your slit. He teases your entrance until you’re whimpering and bucking your hips down against them, at which point he indulges you by sinking them into you. The discomfort fades as he stretches you out on his slender fingers, adding a third one a few moments later as you moan. “Greedy little thing, aren’t you? Always so desperate for my touch.”
You grab at his shoulders, eyes fluttering shut as you tilt your head back and whimper. Tom’s skilled with his fingers—he’s learnt exactly what he has to do to bring you to your knees, every single time. As his digits nudge up to stroke your g-spot, his thumb wrangles your clit, applying the perfect pressure as his lips mark your neck, leaving bruises on your form as you melt.
“Tom, Tom, fuck, that feels so good. Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.”
“Mmmm, don’t worry.” Tom nibbles at your ear, hot breath fanning across your neck. “Gonna make you gush for me, lovie. Right here, when anyone could walk in. Bet you’d like that though, wouldn’t you..? Bet you’d love everyone here to know how much of a needy slut you are for me.” You moan, shaking against the wall as his words coax you to the edge. “Go on, darling. Get my fingers wet, mm? Cum for me. I want to feel just how desperate you are.”
Your eyes roll back as you do as instructed, unable to keep quiet as you fall into your climax. Tom kisses you, pressing his mouth to yours to muffle your loud noises of enjoyment as your cunt clenches around his fingers and your clit revels in the pleasure being given by his insistent thumb. You gasp as you pull away from him, riding out your high before slumping a little, your figure shaking as you watch Tom remove his hand and suck on his fingers for a few moments. The glint of his Rolex is almost as pronounced as the hungry spark in his eyes.
“Thanks,” you mumble, voice hoarse. “Needed that.”
“I know you did.” Tom pulls your dress down before resting his hands on your waist, slowly dragging his palms up until they’re resting over your boobs. He winks as he gives your breasts a soft squeeze. “Are you going to behave now, or will I need to fuck you too before we go back out there?”
You smirk, drawing your hands over his shoulders before dragging him closer. You kiss him passionately, letting your tongue dip into his mouth and hearing him groan in response. Your hand settles in Tom’s hair as you kiss him a few more times, not wanting to distance yourself completely, craving him.
“I think you know the answer to that question, Tom,” you mumble against him.
He raises an eyebrow. “You’re right.” He reaches down for your hand and shoots you a wink. “You’re insatiable, darling. Insatiable.”
You just shrug, letting him pull you towards a vacant room. “Can you blame me?”
Tom looks back, his hungry eyes roaming your figure as he shakes his head. His smirk grows fonder, and you feel your heart clench with love for him as he chuckles.
“No,” he murmurs, pulling you closer to kiss your hand, “because I feel the same way about you.”
throwing a fucking fit on mob!toms dick bc you’re needy for attention and he’s making u cockwarm him and he lets you until you tire yourself out and he grabs you by the face and says now that you’re done being a brat it’s daddy’s turn and he fucking plows you oh to be a puddle for this man
+ if he makes reader go back to cockwarming when he’s done and she’s just a fucked out subby mess for him sitting on his lap full of his cum and all marked up
18+ nsfw content. extended warnings beneath the cut! I took a couple creative liberties with this one but the core ideas are still the same... I can only say... yikes.
extended warnings: this is genuinely just atrocious who gave me the right to create it. your mind, anon, truly. anyways. d/s dynamics, mean!dom!tom, one instance of mild spanking, cockwarming, unprotected mxf sex (please wrap before you tap; condoms act as barriers against STIs as well as unplanned pregnancy). he’s really mean lol.
---
Maybe you brought it on yourself, but it’s not like Tom’s completely blameless, either.
He’s been strutting around the house all day, dress shirt pushed up to his elbows, Rolex glinting off his wrist. Following behind him has been an air of confidence so pronounced it’s made you wet, subconsciously clenching your thighs together every time you find yourself in the same room as your boyfriend. The infuriating thing about Tom is that he knows he looks good - he knows just how much you like it when he wears his curls loosely like that, and how much you enjoy it when he kisses your cheek and lingers by your face long enough for his cologne to sweep over you.
He knows his effect on you, and he’s abused it all day. Teasing you, with small touches on your waist, your back. Kissing you briefly, barely letting his lips linger against yours for more than a second. Using that deep, husky voice of his. You’d tired of it quickly, growing impatient and frisky, which has led you here, to your current predicament.
You’re sitting in Tom’s lap, straddling his thighs. The two of you are alone in his office, and when you’d walked in, he’d been preoccupied with contracts and accounts. Now, his focus has shifted.
“Darling,” Tom’s voice is clipped, terse. He’s frustrated with you, that much is obvious, but he doesn’t push you away as you spend time nibbling at his neck, letting your tongue lap over his pale skin. “Y/N.”
You pull back, innocently looking up at him. “Yes, Tom?”
Tom’s eyes are dark, glinting almost black with restrained lust. In one hand is a glistening ballpoint pen, and his other holds your waist. His expression is familiar, features carved with a blend of irritation, intrigue, and arousal.
“I told you I’m busy,” he says, accent pronounced. He gestures to his desk and the stacks of papers. “What don’t you understand about that?”
You run your hands over the front of his chest, enjoying the feeling of his warm torso against your palms.
“But I want you to pay attention to me.” You lean closer and press a wet kiss to the sharp line of Tom’s jaw, inhaling his musky scent and feeling your core clench in response. “I know you want to.”
“Not now.” His voice is firm. “Wait.”
You groan, letting your forehead drop to rest against his shoulder. Tom passes a hand over your back, stroking gently. “But-”
“You know, I don’t think I like your attitude today.”
Biting your lip to hide the successful smile that springs to your lips, you pull away from Tom’s neck to look at him. One of his eyebrows stands higher, quirked as irritation holds fast over the rest of his face. Something has changed in his demeanour, and you know that you have gotten exactly what you want: you’ve riled him up to the point where he’ll touch you.
“What do you mean?” You ask, rolling your hands over his shoulders. “I’m just trying to show you some affection.”
“No, you’re being a bloody brat.”
You raise your eyebrows, letting your tongue draw across your lower lip. Tom’s holding your waist firmer now, and you inch a little nearer, gasping softly as you feel the line of his erect cock pushing up against his trousers.
“Seems as though you like it,” you point out, unhelpfully. With a grin on your face, you grind down against him, enjoying the way Tom groans in response, pleasure flickering out across his face.
“Take off your clothes.”
You swallow, the smile on your face faltering a little as you note the lack of playfulness to his tone. Tom likes being in charge, likes to be the one to call the shots, but usually, he’s warmer with you. You frown as you stand up and start to shed your clothes, wondering if, for the first time, you’ve pushed him a little too far.
“What do you want me to do?” You ask as you kick your panties aside. Tom’s back to looking at his papers, a focused expression on his face. He glances up, eyes briefly flickering out across your naked form, and he licks his lips. His nimble fingers go to his belt, and you enjoy the sound of metal ringing in the air as he undoes it.
“Come and keep my cock warm,” he asks, voice firm. “If you’re going to be a fucking brat, I may as well get something out of it.”
You swallow dryly, walking forward and folding into his lap when Tom opens up his arms. He pulls his length from his trousers, not bothering to fully take them down, and his hands pad over your bare back. He kisses your temple a few times, the warmth of his mouth reminding you that he’s still your boyfriend, he still loves you, and then he pushes your hair away from your face.
“C’mon, then,” he urges, a smirk biting at his pink lips. “Thought you wanted to feel me, hmm?”
You almost whine because he’s being so cruel to you, but both of you know that you love it when he acts like this. So you reach out and take hold of his length, sitting up a little straighter. You guide his flushed tip through your folds, spreading around the wetness that’s been pooled at your entrance all day. You take a moment to press his member against your clit, gasping softly at the arcs of pleasure that roll up your spine in response, but then his grip on your waist tightens, and you return to the task at hand. With a low moan, you slowly sink down onto Tom’s cock, feeling your walls expand as you settle there completely.
“Good girl,” he coos. Tom bottoms out and he runs a hand over your cheek, his touch soft. “Feels so warm for me, angel. So good.” Tom grabs your chin, angling your face up to look at him. His eyes are still stern, but they’re floating with appreciation too. “You’re going to stay still and hold me until you calm down, okay?”
You nod your head, biting wordlessly at your lip. It’s hard to focus with his cock buried in you up to the hilt. Arousal courses through your veins, your cunt feeling hot and wet. Out of instinct, you clench your pelvic floor and Tom grunts. “Sorry,” you mutter, letting your forehead go back to his shoulder. You shy away in his neck, and he kisses your temple again.
Tom returns to his work, and for the first thirty seconds, you manage to stay quiet. But then - then - he reaches for something on his desk, and his cock moves inside you, his tip brushing up against your g-spot, and you find yourself moaning. It just feels so good.
“Darling,” he murmurs. “I’m trying to concentrate.”
“Can’t help it,” you reply, moaning again when Tom moves and a different part of your cunt feels the hard veins of his cock. “I’m trying.”
“Try a bit harder, yeah? Don’t want to string this out any longer than is necessary.”
Whatever papers Tom’s attending to, his examination of them is very thorough. You lose track of how long you sit on his cock, biting your lower lip, eyes prickling with frustrated tears. Every now and again, one of you shifts and you’re reminded of his presence deep inside you, and it just makes the burn worse. It’s the highest form of temptation, to sit there motionless, waiting on Tom’s command, and though you try to comply, you don’t quite manage to.
You end up too fucked-up and restless to stay still. The result of this is you find yourself squirming, shifting around in his lap, clenching your walls around his cock, craving stimulation. You can hear in his exasperated sighs and grunts that Tom doesn’t like it, but it feels too good to quit.
“Right.” Tom throws his pen onto the desk. A moment later, one of his hands is in your hair, and the other goes to your chin. You squeal as he pulls you closer, taken aback by the sudden shift in pace, and Tom stares at you, hard. “I thought doing this would stop you from being a brat, but apparently I was wrong. You just couldn’t stay still, could you?” He runs his fingers over your back, hand grabbing at the curve of your bum. You gasp softly, and Tom chuckles. “Guess I’ll just need to teach you a lesson another way, hmm?”
You open your mouth to reply, only for Tom to lift you up and push you onto his desk. The cool glass burns into your back, and you cry out as he stands up, his cock falling away from your pulsing hole. It feels strange to be without him, your passage nice and acclimated to him, but it isn’t long before Tom’s pushing back into you.
“Fuck!” You exclaim, throwing your head back. Tom sets a punishing pace, pushing your legs to the sides until he’s able to pound into you, immense strength behind his thrusts as he stands by the edge of the table. Your eyes roll back into your head as you adjust to the sudden onslaught of pleasure, coming down over you in waves.
“So bloody warm,” Tom grunts. His face is flushed, eyes greedily taking in every part of your body as he fucks you relentlessly. Sounds of skin against skin fly through the room. “So wet, too, angel.” He runs his fingers roughly over your thighs, slapping one of them and causing you to cry out. “Always take me so well, don’t you?”
“Yes,” you moan. Your hands are in fists at your sides, and you wish he was closer so you could touch him properly. “Feels so good, Tom.”
Tom pounds into you, over and over again, his cock feeling so fucking good inside your tight passage that it isn’t long until you’re moaning loudly, your body shaking with anticipation. But he doesn’t go near your clit, and one look at the dark twinkle in his eyes dissuades you from asking him to. Instead, you bask in the feeling of him releasing his frustrations, moaning loudly every time the tip of his cock brushes up against your g-spot, knowing that this is probably as good as it’s going to get.
“So fucking tight,” he mutters, speaking almost to himself. He’s got a beautiful rosy blush on his cheeks, his eyes wide, and you recognise the stammering movements to his hips all too well. Tom looks up at you, licking his lips as he grins wildly. “Are you going to take me, darling?” He rasps, words falling together. “Going to let me fill you up with my cum?”
You nod, whining loudly. You can feel your climax, swirling around in the pit of your stomach, but it’s hanging out of reach. As you watch Tom’s face screw into an expression of bliss and feel his cock pulse inside you, you can’t help but pout, knowing this is all he’s going to give you, dreading the second he stops moving because you’re clinging desperately to everything he’s giving you.
“Shit, shit, shit,” Tom groans. His cum seeps into you, and you shudder at the sensation, clenching around his length as if to prolong the experience. He’s so handsome when he climaxes - face pinched into an expression of tight enjoyment, his grip on your thighs hard and unrelenting. As he starts to slow his thrusts, you groan, irritation replacing your lust as Tom stills, softening cock still lodged inside you.
“Tom,” you whine, sitting up on your elbows. You look at your boyfriend, a frown on your face. “Let me cum too,” you ask, rolling your lip into a proper pout.
He raises an eyebrow, breathless. “Are you joking?” Your hand twitches in the direction of your clit and Tom reaches out to snatch your wrist, pulling it to his mouth. He hums as he kisses the palm of your hand, eyes flickering back to the stacks of his papers. “I don’t trust that I can leave you alone and not have you stuff your fingers in your cunt,” he mutters, processing his thoughts aloud, “But I’m not done yet…”
With a mischievous grin on his face, Tom steps away from the desk, holding up a hand to tell you to stay still as he grabs a few tissues and cleans up his cock. He tucks it back into his trousers and sits down in his desk chair, beckoning you forward with a hand.
“What are you doing?” You ask, puzzled. You wince as you stand up, an enjoyable ache running through your tired body as you move towards him. You glance down and see his cum dripping down beneath your thighs, and moan at the arousing sight.
Tom holds up two fingers and inclines his head back at his thighs. You gasp, understanding immediately what he wants.
“C’mon,” he urges. He pats his thigh with one hand and picks up the office phone with the other. “You’re going to stay here whilst I make some calls.” You slowly straddle his lap again and groan when Tom drags two fingers through your weeping slit, teasing your clit for a moment before sliding them into your tender cunt. You’re so wet, your hole a mess of your arousal and his milky cum, and you find yourself growing tearful as you feel him pump his fingers a few times.
“Please,” you beg, burying your face in his neck. You feel more desperate than you’ve ever felt in your life - your cunt clenching around Tom’s fingers. Fat tears roll down your cheeks as he curls his digits and nudges up against your g-spot, stimulating you torturously slowly.
“Please what?”
Your fingers wrap around the front of Tom’s expensive designer shirt, and your tears soak the material covering his shoulders.
“Give me more.”
Tom tuts, and you feel the vibrations in his chest as he follows it up with a chuckle. A moment later, he kisses your forehead.
“Haven’t you learnt your lesson yet, love?” He coos, voice cold. “I’ll give you whatever I feel like giving you.” Tom pauses, slowly teasing your walls with his fingers. You clench desperately, but it’s not enough - it’s not enough by far. “So you’re going to keep my fingers warm, and you’re going to keep my cum inside your hot little pussy. Maybe after I’m finished my calls, I’ll let you sit on my dick again.” He chuckles. “I might even fuck you.” You whimper, your entire body shaking. “But if you think I’m seriously about to let you cum?” Tom breaks off, laughing. “Think again.”
you picked the right day to send this in :’) i miss mob!tom :( nsfw; 18+ minors dni !!!!!
extended warnings: lil bit of sir kink, spanking as punishment, orgasm denial + fingering
*:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧ *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧ *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧ *:·ﾟ✧
Tom’s hands are rough as they grab at your ass, kneading handfuls of your bare skin as you whimper. Your fingers are clenched tightly around the bedsheets, knuckles aching from the exertion. Everything that you feel is heightened by the arousal that courses through you so hotly.
“How many is that?” Tom’s voice is hard, unrelenting. As he waits for you to draw up enough air to speak a response, he runs two fingers down, shifting away from the sore rise of your ass and dipping between your thighs. He’d pulled off your panties and spread your legs a few minutes earlier, citing a desire for easy access as his motivation. The way your legs are parted gives him space to drag his fingers through your slit, a deep chuckle falling into the air as he feels your wet heat.
“T-Ten,” you mutter, voice hitching.
“And what do you say?”
He’s being cruel. Tom’s index finger curves down to your clit and he teases you, slowly, applying the slightest of pressures as he rubs the bud. A pang of pleasure twangs up your spine, mixing with the pain from your throbbing ass.
“Thank you, sir,” you say, voice thick.
“Good girl.”
Tom keeps his index finger working your bud, continuing his movements as his other hand goes back up to your ass. He teases you for a while, keeping you permanently on edge as he caresses the curves of your flesh. Every time he pulls away, you brace yourself, and every time, you’re left wanting. It’s supposed to be a punishment, but both of you know how wet it makes you to have his strong hand coming down over your ass again and again.
Changing things up, Tom spanks you twice in quick succession, hitting the same place with the flat of his palm. A loud moan falls past your lips, and it only twists louder when he moves his index finger away from your clit and brings it up to slip past your entrance.
“Oh, baby,” he murmurs, fucking your heat slowly. “You’re so wet.” As if to prove his point, the lewd sounds of your arousal fill the air. Tom curves his finger and adds a second, and you try to shift in his lap to get deeper. “No, angel,” he mutters, free hand spanking you again. “Stay still and take what I give you, or I’ll give you nothing at all.”
“Sorry,” you whine, grasping harder at the sheets. Pleasure mingles with pain, and when Tom curves his fingers to stroke against your g-spot, your jaw drops. “Fuck.”
“D’you like that, darling?” he asks, speaking in hushed, thick tones. His voice is raspy and tired, and it cuts around the edges. Tom pauses his thrusts for a few moments as he spanks you twice again, changing between your cheeks. The pain stings your skin, hot and pulsing, and as it tingles in recovery, he’s gentle with his hand, smoothing over your figure and soothing the pain. “You always get so needy when I spank you.”
You can’t form words, too distracted by the way Tom goes back to fucking your cunt, and instead manage an eager moan. You stay still this time, even as he adds his thumb on your clit and brings you to the edge of climax, just to draw back and let it fade. He does it a few times, edging you to the brink of insanity before letting it ebb away, always murmuring a few words of dirty praise to keep you from spiralling.
“So good for me, darling,” he coos. You can almost feel the smile in his voice as he brings his thumb from your clit, your walls clenching angrily around his digits as you’re unable to spasm into orgasm without the added pressure. “Making a wet patch on my leg, aren’t you? Dirty girl. You want to cum so bad, don’t you, darling?”
There are tears in your eyes, hot and threatening to spill. When Tom spanks you again, a few trickle down your cheeks, causing you to whine and buck back against his hand.
“Please,” you beg, wriggling back until his hand comes down again over your skin. The sting urges you closer, and when Tom crooks his fingers back to stimulate the special spot lodged against your inner walls, you moan. “Please let me cum.”
“Mmm, I don’t know, darling. Do you deserve it?”
You bite your lip, tender and puffy. “Yes,” you say.
“Well, I suppose you did take your punishment well.” Tom pauses, and the sounds of your heat threatening to pulse around his fingers fill the bedroom. “I want to fuck you, though. Fill up that bratty pussy. If I let you cum now, will you let me do that too?”
“Yes,” you whimper, already craving the delicious stretch of his girth. “Please, sir. Please, Tom. ‘M so close.”
“Okay, angel. Cum for me. Been so good.”
He’s barely finished his words before you’re tilting over the edge, cumming with a low cry of his name. Pleasure slams into you, rocking out from your centre, and it crashes over you in waves as Tom fucks your heat and strokes your clit through it, not easing up until you start to twitch and whimper. When he pulls his hands away, you’re left warm and light, easy for him to move as he carefully coaxes you onto your back. You whine as your sore ass meets the coarse material of his trousers, but find yourself catching your lower lip as the ache only makes you feel wetter.
Tom’s face drifts into your line of sight, and his lips come down to kiss your forehead. With the hand that’d been charged with spanking you, he cups your cheek, pushing away the tears that wet your skin.
“Perfect angel,” he murmurs, eyes glinting almost black. He trails from your forehead, down the front of your nose, resting at your lips where he kisses you messily. You push up into it, feeling the hand between your legs slowly twitch to life as his fingers go back to your clit. When you moan into his mouth, Tom pulls away, an easy smirk on his lips. “Ready for round two?”
idk if this one has been done yet, but what about getting in a fight with mob!tom and he says something that really upsets her but tries his best to make up for it because he knows he fucked up?
getting angsty on this monday, I like it! I had fun with this. I went less tom trying to make up for it and more him undergoing the biggest grovel session of his life lmao. lowkey got a bit emotional writing it fhjdhf. enjoy !! cw: angst (w a happy end)
– it’s mob monday !! –
The argument builds quickly, escalating from a minor spat to an all-out explosion in the blink of an eye. What had started out as a small grievance about Tom’s inability to make time for you had snowballed, and now you’re standing opposite him, angry tears glistening in your eyes.
“You’re being unreasonable!” You exclaim, voice coming out hard. The palms of your hands hurt from the clenching of your fingers, small crescent-moon shapes from your nails pressed into your skin. “Why won’t you just listen to me?”
Tom’s face is a deep shade of volatile red, his hair unruly and untamed from the number of times he’s run his hands through his curls. He’d abandoned his smooth-talker facade minutes ago, now fully leaning into the side of him that you only usually see when he’s around his opponents.
“I’ve tried listening to you, Y/N, but you aren’t paying attention to what I’m saying,” he says, voice staccato. He clasps his hands in front of his chest as he groans, his face the picture of frustration. “I can’t change my schedule for you, alright? If you actually paid attention to how I live my life, and the lifestyle that I lead, you’d understand that. I can’t be like all your other boyfriends. I have responsibilities that are bigger than you.”
You bring your hands to your temples, trying not to cry as you stare at him.
“I don’t want you to be like my ex-boyfriends,” you respond, “I want you to be a good boyfriend, and pay attention to me when I tell you that I miss you.” Your voice softens slightly, and your glare loses some of its ferocity. “It gets fucking lonely living in this house, Tom. For such a big mansion, there’s barely ever anyone around, and when you’re not here…” You wave a hand through the air. “I feel alone.”
“Then move out.”
Immediately, your blood runs cold. You feel your heart drop straight to your feet, and your arms fall to your side, defeated.
“What?” You croak. A fresh flood of tears well up in your eyes as you stare at your boyfriend, who’s still looking at you like you’ve done something to cause him grievous bodily harm.
“If you hate living here, and you hate dating me so much, just move out, Y/N.” Tom shoves his hands in his pockets, shrugging. “Seems to me like that’d be a good solution to your problem.”
You shake your head, in disbelief at how quickly your boyfriend of two years has pivoted.
“Are you being serious?” You say, blinking at him. “Are you actually trying to kick me out right now? Just because I care about and want to spend time with my boyfriend?”
Tom stares at the ground, and you see his jaw twitch. You give him a few seconds to say something, anything, and when he fails to do so, you stalk over to the wardrobe. It’s only when you pick up a bag and start to throw your things into it that he seems to realise how angry you are.
“What are you doing?” Tom asks, sounding panicked. He walks towards you, reaching out for you, but you move away. Your eyes sting with tears, and you feel a few stray droplets roll down your face as you shake your head.
“I’m leaving,” you mutter. Your hands shake as you sling the bag over your shoulder and go into the bathroom, picking up your toothbrush and a few other things. “Going back to my flat.”
Tom shakes his head. “Please don’t do that, love.” He sounds desperate all of a sudden, and when you glance at him in the mirror, you see he’s deflated--shoulders shrunk, eyes wide. “I… I didn’t mean it, I was caught in the moment. You don’t need to leave.” He reaches out for you again but you dodge him.
“Don’t touch me,” you mutter. You hastily pull on the zip of the bag before walking back into the bedroom. “Don’t come over either. I don’t want to see you until you’ve figured out what you want from me and what you want from this relationship.”
He trails after you, keeping a safe distance, but you can almost feel how badly he wants to reach out and take your hand.
“I love you,” Tom pleads. “Please don’t go. We can work this out together.”
You shake your head. You’re walking fast now, just glad that you’d held onto the keys of your old flat when you’d moved in with Tom.
“We need space. I need space.” You find yourself at the front door, and you turn around to stare at Tom. He flinches as he takes in the sight of the tear tracks on your cheeks, and the angry hurt in your eyes. “Just… Leave me alone, Tom.”
You turn and you leave, letting the heavy front door slam behind you.
––––––
Your first day apart passes by in a blur of anger, upset, and heartbreak. Your best friend comes over and you talk to her, well into the night, venting about everything you’ve been unable to air to Tom, given his remarkable absence from your life. It’s not that he’d been pulling away intentionally, rather, his job had taken him away from you, over and over and over again. Every time you’d brought it up casually, he’d shot you down. It was just a matter of time before it overflowed like that.
One day stretches to two, then three. Tom makes an appearance on the fourth.
You know it’s him just from the way he knocks on your front door: three strong knocks, syncopated in his favourite rhythm. You carefully, quietly, tiptoe to the door and lean up to peer through the peephole, feeling your breath hitch as you see his figure, distorted by the glass. He looks tired and unkempt, wearing a hoodie and some jeans instead of one of his suits. His hair is all over the place, and there’s a shadow of stubble grazing his chin.
“Love?” He calls out, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I know you’re there.”
You swallow, continuing to spy on him as you say nothing.
Tom sighs. “I’m so sorry, Y/N... I feel like shit. I shouldn’t have said what I said, because I didn’t mean it.” He breaks off, and you watch as he pinches at the bridge of his nose. “I know you want space, but I… I miss you. And I love you, so much. So, so, so much, love. I’ve never loved anyone this much in my life, and it’s terrifying.” He breaks off, chuckling harshly. “So I don’t know why I decided to fuck things up. Guess I’m just fucking stupid, eh?”
You rest your forehead against the door, frowning as you listen to him talk. You’ve never heard him sound so defeated before.
“Anyway, uh… I just wanted to come around and tell you that I’m sorry. I’ll never stop being sorry for what I said. I don’t want you to move out, I want you to come back.” Tom chuckles weakly. “I don’t ever want you to leave. I can’t imagine what my life would look like without you in it, so… If you want me to, I’ll give it up. I’ll give it all up.” He pauses to suck in a breath, his voice becoming thick. “We can, uh, sell the house. Move somewhere nice. Maybe get a townhouse somewhere, or, uh, a cottage, or whatever you want, darling. I could get a normal job.” He breaks off to laugh humourlessly. “Don’t know what I’d do, but… I’d do it. For you. I’d do anything for you. So… just think about it, please.”
Tom pauses, and you watch as he reaches up to rub at his eyes. His voice cracks as he adds, “I love you.” After a final repetition of the words, he sighs and steps back. “I’ll, uh, go now. Just… Know that I’m sorry. And I love you. So much.”
He turns to leave, and you suddenly realise he’s about to walk away. You reach up and rattle the chain on your door before turning the handle, throwing it open, and stepping out into the hallway. Tom turns to look at you, and you’re shocked to see his bloodshot eyes, bright red nose, and the tear tracks that stain his cheeks.
“Tom,” you say, voice gentle. “It’s… It’s okay.”
He slowly steps back towards you, moving hesitantly until you offer him your hands. You tenderly loop your fingers together, feeling his cold digits.
“It’s not okay,” Tom mumbles, looking at you with those wide brown eyes you love so much. “I was such a dick, love. I shouldn’t have said it.”
You squeeze his hands. “You shouldn’t have,” you agree, “but it’s okay.” You gently pull one of his palms to your mouth and kiss over his knuckles a few times. “I said some things I shouldn’t have too…” You sigh gently. “I miss you, Tom.”
You’ve felt it every day. A hollowness in your heart. Tom always makes your life brighter, even when he’s not around. He leaves your mug out by the kettle when he leaves every morning, and he makes sure the fridge is stocked with your favourite fruits. Tom’s the one who neatly arranges your shoes on the shoe rack by the door, and makes sure the thermostat is set right. He always tidies up the bathroom and puts your favourite teddy right in the centre of the bed, every single day. You miss his smile, and his arms, and the love he has for you that exists even when he’s not there.
“I miss you too,” he says.
He looks so fragile that you pull him in for a hug, burying your nose in his neck and inhaling the soft tones of faded cologne. Tom clings to you, his hands digging into your back and holding you firmly. You swallow as you tilt your mouth towards his ear.
“Can I come back home?” You ask. “I don’t want to do any of this without you.”
Tom hums. After a moment more, he pulls back, but he keeps his hands wrapped around you. He looks into your eyes, a very shy smile moving out over his lips.
“I would love that,” he says. “The house isn’t the same without you.”
You move your hands around his neck and kiss him very softly, feeling a part of you flicker back to life as his gentle lips nudge up against yours.
“Thank you.” You card your fingers through his hair. “I love you.”
And there’s still so much you need to talk about and work through, but Tom pushes his forehead against yours and stares at you with so much determination that you know you’ll get there, you’ll be okay. You know that he loves you.
He kisses you again, just as gently as the first time.
“Love you too, darling,” he promises. “Love you more than anything else in the world.”
So this is just something I thought of and I’m just gonna leave it here in your inbox but um...picture mob!Tom waking you up & going down on you and then his men keep on knocking on the door & so he gets annoyed & walls to the door just in his boxers & says “I’m taking care of my girl. I’ll be with you in a bit” & then comes back & lets you finish before walking back to the door (his mouth drenched) & asks “now what the fuck did you idiots want?” Ahhhhhhhh
Tom’s hands are warm as they smooth over your hips, fingertips calloused but gentle. A tired smile finds your lips as you open your eyes, blinking lethargically until your boyfriend drifts into focus.
“Morning, love,” he murmurs, voice raspy. Tom’s suspended above you, his lips dropping down to nip at the base of your neck until you whine. “Have I ever told you how radiant you are in the morning?”
You roll your eyes, shifting your hands to curl into his hair. Tom’s chestnut locks are unruly and scattered, but soft to touch. You use your grip on him to pull his lips to yours, kissing him fondly.
“Such a gentleman, aren’t you?” You respond. Tom nods, something like pride finding home in his deep warm eyes as he pulls back to kiss your cheek. His hands are still on your hips, drawing large, teasing circles over your skin. “Got something on your mind?” You ask, quirking an eyebrow when you feel the presence of his hardness digging into one of your thighs.
“Maybe.” Tom presses a long, lingering kiss to your lips before pulling away. He winks at you as he slips down the bed, the expensive duvet rustling. “Thought I’d show my gorgeous girl some appreciation this morning.” He pauses at your navel, pushing your silky cami up your stomach so he can press a soft kiss just below your belly button. “Is that alright, sweetheart?”
You hum as his fingers dip down to play with the hem of your panties, acting coy as if you’re not already humming with arousal.
“I suppose that might be nice,” you tease, earning a scoff from Tom. You lift your hips for him, sighing contentedly as Tom pulls your thighs over his shoulders. He presses a long, lingering kiss to your clit that makes you sigh gently.
“I think it might be more than just nice, love,” he murmurs. With his head between your legs and his eyes full of determination, you swear he’s never looked more attractive. “Let me make you feel good, yeah?”
“Mmm, alright. If you insist-” Your words die out when Tom laps over your clit. Two fingers separate your tender outer lips and you moan, eyelids fluttering shut as his hot tongue drags over your bud. He starts out slowly, alternating between teasing your entrance and smoothing your building arousal over your clit. His tongue moves in cycles, going from slow, wide-pressed laps and more focused, intense kitten-licks that make you cry out.
He works you up easily, knowing your cunt like the back of his hand. When you grow more unsettled, your chest moving in heaving pants, one of Tom’s hands slips up to hold your hips, pressing you back into the mattress. His other moves down, two fingers teasing your entrance, but just as he’s about to push them in, there’s a loud series of knocks at the door.
Tom ignores the knocks at first, but you feel his concentration shatter. The movements of his mouth are looser, more distracted, and it knocks you off your game too as the sounds continue.
“You should go,” you mutter, clenching your hands into fists for entirely the wrong reasons. There’s a healthy throb between your legs now, and though the prospect of losing Tom and instead having to take care of yourself makes you feel sad, you know, too, that his men wouldn’t dare disturb him so early without a damned good reason.
“Wait right here.” Tom kisses your clit a final time before smoothing his hand over your hips and standing up from the bed. He wipes at his mouth before stumbling towards the door, keeping his eyes on you and winking as you pull the covers back around your figure. “What?” He barks, pulling the bedroom door open just a smidge. You can’t hear the conversation beyond a few hushed tones, but you hear Tom as he grunts out a low, “I don’t fucking care. I’m taking care of my girl. I’ll be with you in a bit.”
You raise your eyebrows, sitting up on your elbows to watch as Tom forcibly slams the door shut, twisting the lock for good measure.
“What do they want?” You ask, rubbing your legs together. You’re still buzzing with arousal, and the sight of him striding so purposefully across the room back towards you makes you bite your lower lip.
“Don’t know,” Tom replies. He slips back into bed, grabbing one of your hands and kissing the back of it as he settles between your legs again. “Whatever it is can wait until I’ve shown my girl a good time.”
Before you can reply, he’s diving back in, renewed strength behind his movements. Tom’s quick to pick up from where he left off, slipping two of his warm fingers into your cunt and curling them just right. You whimper, feeling your climax begin to build in the pit of your stomach, and your enjoyment only grows more prominent as Tom sucks around your clit, obscene noises of your arousal flooding the air.
“Tom, shit, shit,” you moan, grabbing fistfuls of his hair with shaky fingers. He makes out with your centre like it’s his one purpose in life, actions focused and perfect, all whilst his fingers hit up against your g-spot again and again. Your eyes roll back as your legs start to shake, and you cry out as he hums against you.
“C’mon, darling, I know you want to come for me. You’re gonna let me feel you, yeah?” When you whimper out an affirmation, Tom hums again. “Let go, darling. That’s it. Get my fingers all wet.”
Your climax sweeps over you in warm, pleasurable waves, drowning you in bliss as you grip Tom’s hair. Your soft moans mix with the sounds of his fingers fucking into you, providing the perfect ambience to the moment as your orgasm stretches out a few, long seconds. As you come down from it, you sigh happily, shifting your hand to cup Tom’s face as he pulls away from your legs, his lips bright red and inflamed.
“Thank you,” you say, breathless. You smile down at him, but it’s quick to drop as there’s another round of knocks at the door.
Tom curses, eyes storming over into deep shades of brown. “Any time, darling,” he soothes. He kisses your shoulder before standing from the bed, pausing to lick off his fingers and shoot you a devious smirk. “Duty calls,” he says, already on his way to the door. His chin glistens with your arousal as he pauses, fingers on the lock. “Love you, angel,” he calls back. He twists the lock, smirk widening. “Love that sweet pussy too.”
And then he’s opening the door and walking out, and all you can think about is the undeniable line of his cock straining against his sweats, and the drenched shimmer of your arousal stained to his chin.
for blurb night.. some good ol’ lovemaking with Mob! Tom? I still like things to be really passionate and intense though, those deep, hard, but slow thrusts yk? dirty talking, clinging desperately to one another.. maybe some breeding kink in there? 👀 ‘Ive-missed-you’ sex sort of deal? idk, have fun with it, girl! feel free to add or change things a lil! your writing is gold btw, sending love 💞✨
Tom lays you down over the sprawling king-sized mattress very delicately, kissing your lips, deeply, before slowly making his way down your body.
“So bloody perfect, aren’t you, angel?”
Your boyfriend runs his hands over your chest, grabbing handfuls of your breasts in his warm palms. As he dips his head down and laps over your left nipple, a small whimper slips past your lips.
“Hm?” Tom blinks up at you, brown eyes wide with false innocence as he drags his tongue over your nipple. As one hand pays attention to your other breast, his remaining fingers travel to your face, fingertips padding over your lips. He drums his digits over your mouth. “Speak, darling. I want to hear your beautiful voice.”
You push against his touch and kiss at his fingertips, earning a smirk from your boyfriend.
“Missed you so much, Tom,” you mumble. You gasp softly when Tom releases your nipple and continues on his journey down your figure. “Been a really long two weeks without you.”
Soft, warm lips move over your stomach, over your hips, to the tops of your thighs. Tom had already taken the liberty of peeling down your panties earlier when he’d undressed you in front of the mirror and made you watch as he’d explored your tight heat with three of his slender, skilled digits. You’re already wet - orgasmed twice, but craving more, aching for the sweet release that you only get from Tom, and his hands, or his mouth, or his cock.
“Fuck,” you whimper, watching as Tom kisses each of your thighs before pushing your legs wide open. “Please fuck me,” you beg, grasping at the sheets. “I need your cock, Tom.”
Your boyfriend hums, using two fingers to peel apart your outer lips. Your tender clit throbs, and then you cry out loudly as he dips his head and runs his tongue over the bud. He drags his warm muscle from your entrance before circling your clit again, grunting in appreciation as you reach down to grab a hold of his hair. You try weakly to pull him back, muttering more about how you’ll go crazy if you don’t feel him properly, but he just tuts.
“Shush,” he hums. “Let me taste my pussy, yeah? Then I’ll give you what you want, greedy thing.”
He’s got both of his arms holding your waist, keeping you firmly on the bed as you thrash. You love it - love the feeling of his tongue, swirling around your bud, rewarding the sensitive area with warm, wet circles - and he knows it, knows you love being stimulated beyond the limits of pleasure like this. There have been nights before where he’s spread you out like this and made you cum, over and over, until all you know is his name, dripping from your tongue like a prayer.
“Fuck, fuck,” you murmur. Obscene wet noises drift through the air as Tom makes out with your heat, sparing no enthusiasm as he sucks at your cunt, adding two fingers into your pulsing pussy as his mouth unravels you. “Keep going, fuck, I’m-”
Tom hums, loudly, and the vibrations cause you to spin off, shouting obscenities as you moan loudly. You fall apart under his tongue, dizzying waves of pleasure spreading over you as you drown in it, chest heaving as you gasp loudly.
“Fucking delicious,” Tom mutters. He slides up your body, dark eyes glinting as your juices shine on his chin. “Don’t think there’s anything I love more than tasting my cunt, darling.” He smirks when you whimper and reach out for him, pulling him closer again. His cock, hard and aching, presses up against your slit, and as you part your legs wider, it settles between your folds. “Still so needy though, aren’t you?”
Tom has fun teasing you, rolling his hands over your face, grinding experimentally against your tender cunt until you’re whimpering. He’s such a tease - it doesn’t matter that he’s been away for two weeks on business, he’s persistent, and you know he enjoys the way you’re melting for him.
“Please, please,” you mumble, gasping as you feel his tip press up against your entrance. You’re insatiable, your skin crawling with a hot, throbbing heat that can only be cured by the feeling of your boyfriend entering you again. “Spent so many nights thinking about this, Tom,” you add, trying to coax him into action. “Want to feel your cock spreading me open, baby. Please, please, please.” You dust his face with kisses, and Tom chuckles. He drops his face until he’s able to kiss the base of your neck, sucking a very hard, enjoyable hickey to your skin.
“Do you want my cock?” He asks, voice husky. He looks up at you, eyes narrowing in a show of dominance, “Or do you want my cum?”
Your throat runs dry, and you find yourself swallowing deeply as your hands go up to his hair. You card your fingertips through Tom’s soft brown curls, nodding as your body fills with heat.
“Both,” you mumble.
Tom tilts his face, lips catching at the juncture of your jaw and your cheek in a soft kiss.
“Tell me what you want,” he murmurs. He leaves another kiss, wet and firm, to the sensitive spot of your jaw, causing you to whimper. “We both know you want more than just my cock, darling. Go on. You can tell me.” He rubs his cock against your entrance and you whimper. “I know the dirty little thoughts you’ve been having, hm? Just tell me, and it’s all yours.”
Normally you’d be shy about it, bashful and embarrassed, but then again, you wouldn’t also be full of such persistent arousal that it feels like you’re dripping over the tip of his cock. So you groan, grabbing handfuls of his back as you say, firmly,
“I want your cum, Tom. I want…” You choke into a moan as he slides into you easily, meeting no resistance from your desperate cunt. “I want you to fill me up,” you say, “Want- want to feel you cumming in me. Have it drip out of me afterwards.” You whimper as he starts to thrust into you. “Want you to make a mess.”
Tom groans, his voice deep and raspy.
“There’s a good girl,” he murmurs, voice thick with appreciation. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?” He’s slow with his thrusts, but they’re deep. You feel the pleasurable stretch that comes with each one of his movements, his thrusts nudging his cock further each time. You’re revelling in it, moaning loudly as you cling to the packed muscles on his back, your body full of warmth as you take him in again. “Feels so fucking snug, angel.”
Your eyes are squeezed shut, your body twitching each time Tom pulls out only to sink back into you, your heat warm and wet. “Missed this,” you whimper, voice high. “Missed this so much.”
“Mmm, bet you have, darling.” Tom’s kissing over your collarbones, nibbling at your skin with light kisses. His curls brush at your neck. “Your fingers don’t feel as good as my cock, do they?”
“No.”
“But you tried, didn’t you? Can just imagine it. You coming up here, all alone, missing me.” Tom smirks against your neck, and you shiver. “Working yourself open with a few fingers, trying to pretend they were me. But it wouldn’t ever feel as good as this, would it?”
Your body is on fire, the muscles in your legs pulled tight with exertion, the heat in the pit of your stomach rising with each thrust. You reach down and grab at one of Tom’s hands, twirling your fingers together and clinging on for dear life.
“No, nothing’s as good as this.”
“Didn’t think so.” Tom’s voice is thick, mingling with the sounds of slapping arousal that fill the room. “Can’t wait to fill you up,” he grunts. He pulls his face away from your neck and meets your eyes, his gaze primal and dark. His thrusts grow more purposeful, and you’re whining as you feel his hips grinding down against your clit every time. “Been dreaming of this tight little cunt, love. Every night, thought about fucking you. Cumming in you and listening to you moaning when you feel my cum fill you up, shit-”
You’re so close, and his words just make you clench around him.
“Please, please,” you beg, mind gone. You squeeze at his hand, your other one grabbing at his back as you cling to him, craving everything. “I want it, Tom, fuck, make me cum, fill me up. I need it, I need you.”
“Such a fucking angel,” Tom murmurs. He bites the top of your shoulder as you shake, and with a final thrust and burst of pressure to your clit, you’re there. “Oh, fuck, darling, squeezing me so tight- there you go, fuck, so perfect, love, that’s it.”
The strength of your climax is so powerful that it takes you out for a few moments, but you feel Tom peaking right after. You moan, your eyes rolling back as you feel him pulse inside you, shooting his warm seed deep within you as he swears and holds you near, rocking his hips against yours until you’re both spent.
He slumps against your chest, and you sigh contentedly as you roll your fingers through his hair. Bliss fills every part of you.
“Missed you,” you say, smiling down at him when he raises his gaze to you.
Tom sits straighter and leans up until he’s able to kiss your lips again. He lingers up there, eyes sparkling brightly as he kisses you, two more times, in quick, light succession.
