#ceo!tom

[ifortom]

Champagne Problems - T.H.

Synopsis: Tom and y/n, a couple that used to be inseparable, now face a deep crisis in their marriage. Their daughter, Olivie, 4, is in the middle of this emotional turmoil. With busy lives, differences of opinion and fragmented communication, the love that brought them together is slowly fading. After the aftermath they must face their own demons, rediscover empathy, and find a way to rebuild the relationship they once shared. Not just for themselves, but also for the well-being of their daughter, who longs for a united family.

A/N: Well here it is, this is a rollercoaster of emotions and I hope you enjoy it. An important note: English is not my first language so I hope you understand if there are any errors, be kind and let me know if necessary and I can fix it.

W/A: +5k

‘’Where’s my sweet baby pie?’’ You heard Nikki’s voice before she even opened the front door.

‘’Grandma!’’ Olivie screamed loudly when she saw her grandmother and ran straight into her open arms.

‘’Hi sweetie! I missed you.” She said hugging the little girl tightly. ‘’Everyone was waiting for you.’’ Olivie smiled and made her way inside the house without looking back.

Nikki turned to you, as you walked in the living room and smiled opening her arms just like she did with Ollie, welcoming you into a warm hug.

‘’What about you, darling? It’s been a while since I’ve seen you.’’

‘’I know, and I’m sorry for that. Work’s been so hard lately, there’s a lot going on.’’ It wasn’t a lie, the last few weeks had been a pain in your ass with so much work since you got your promotion to chief editor at the publisher you worked.

‘’Yeah, Tom told me, that’s great news though!’’

‘’Its is, I’ve waited this for such a long time. But is complicated, Ollie is growing up and I feel like I’m missing out sometimes.’’ She smiled softly at you.

‘’I get it, just try not to stress yourself, that girl needs you... and you know, your promotion wasn’t the only thing Tom talked to me about the last time he was here... what’s going on with the both of you?’’

This was a question you really didn’t want to reply and this was a conversation you didn’t want to have, especially with your husband’s mother.

‘’I guess our relationship has seen better times but we’re trying. I’m just... I can’t have this conversation right now”

‘’I see... it’s alright sweetheart. I don’t want to intrude, just want to see you happy, the both of you. And that little girl.’’

‘’Me too.’’ You smiled at her, trying to hide the forming lump on your throat. ‘’I need to go, Tom is probably already home and we need to get ready.’’

‘’Of course. I’m going to find Ollie for you to say goodbye.’’ She walked out in the direction of the back garden.

While you waited, you took your time looking around the living room you’ve seen a thousand times already. Memories spread across the walls in the form of photos. Tom’s graduation day, Paddy’s first day of kindergarten, your wedding day, their family trip to Hawaii, Olivie as a new born. Memories you’re proud to be a part of.

The sound of small feet running to you woke you up from the small daydreaming.

‘’Mummy!’’ She hugged your legs and you bent down to her level to stare into her eyes.

‘’I’m going now, ok? Remember our deal?”

‘’Yeah, to be a good girl for grandma.’’ She said happily remembering your words from earlier.

‘’That’s right! Two nights, ok? And then we’re taking you home.’’

‘’You and daddy?’’ She asked playing with a string of your hair.

‘’Yeah, mummy and daddy.” She nodded. ‘’Alright, now give mumma a hug.’’ You tighly held her for a while, taking in her baby scent, the one you loved so much. ‘’Bye, babybug.’’ She let go of you and turned around finding her grandmother standing next to the couch. ‘’Bye Nikki, thank you for taking care of her. And please, say hi to everyone.’’

‘’Always. And please, have fun. You both need that”

...

Tonight was a special night. Tom’s company is hosting a party to celebrate a new partnership with a foreign company and, of course, as the wife of one of the partners, your presence is unquestionable. You need to be there to support your husband and keep the facade of the perfect couple with the perfect family. Because no one knows what goes on behind closed doors.

You stared at yourself in the mirror. The dark red dress you chose hugs your curves in all the right places, the small slit on the leg made it a little more daring but didn't lose the classic touch. It had been a while since you dressed up for a gala event, so you decided to take advantage of the opportunity and remember your features that have been hidden for a while.

Tom entered the room wearing his elegant suit. His hair was straightened and with every step he took he exuded class, and as you watched him in the mirror's reflection, you noticed his gaze fixed on your body.

 ''Woah, you look beautiful tonight'' Was the first thing he said. Tom hadn't had the opportunity to see the dress you had chosen before this moment, so it was definitely a surprise.

''Yeah, I wanted to try something today.'' You smiled, breaking eye contact in the mirror and going to the table next to the bed, picking up the necklace you had chosen. ''Can you put it on for me?'' You walked up to him and handed the necklace into his hands, turning your back.

Tom calmly analyzed the necklace and felt his breathing hitch. There was the necklace he had given you just before Olivie was born. Your pregnancy was not easy. There were many complications during the period and the risk of something happening to you or the baby was high. To this day, he is grateful that you two made it out of the operating room safe and sound.

The small, sparkling jewel dangled from the chain, reminding him of simpler times. He knew the moment he saw it for the first time that you would love it. It was simple, but it carried enormous emotion, love and hope.

He raised his hands towards your neck and noticed that they were sweating. And you felt his warm breath on your neck and his fingers delicately ran across it, making goosebumps run down your body. How long has it been since you felt each other's touch like this? It's impossible to believe that the two young people who couldn't live without having contact with each other for a long time became like two strangers afraid to touch.

Maybe a few years ago he would have come closer, placed his hands on your waist and left a kiss next to your ear. You would have thrown your head back leaning on his shoulder and the two of you would have stayed like that for a while.

But things changed and the two of you were no longer the same couple at the beginning of a relationship as you were before. Life happened and differences emerged, thoughts changed and opinions diverged. How could things be the same as before?

Instead, Tom put space between you and scratched his throat. His hand went to the back of his head. You looked in the mirror once again.

''I'm driving today, so if you're ready we can go''

You nodded and turned to him waiting for some reaction. Whatever it was. But what you got was him turning his back and walking towards the bedroom door. Holding back the cry that wanted to leave your throat, you lifted your head and followed him. Time to play the part.

...

The path to the venue's party room was silent. In the car, Tom let the music take over the space. As you mouthed the lyrics to a random song that was playing, Tom let furtive glances find you. But you would never know it.

When you arrived, a boy went towards the car while Tom opened his door. He quickly turned around and opened your door, extending his hand to help you out. Tom thanked the boy who entered the space he previously occupied and left with the car to park it.

You held onto Tom's arm as you walked together to the entrance of the already crowded room. Taking a deep breath, a smile appeared on your face as Harrison, Tom's best friend and one of his partners, walked towards you.

''You're finally here, what happened that took you so long?'' He said suggestively, making Tom laugh.

‘’No need to pry, mate.’’ Tom replied, now wrapping his arm around your waist. ''We arrived and we are fine, thank you for asking.''

''No defensiveness, Tom. You look great tonight, Y/N.'' Harrison said.

''Thanks, H. You don't look bad either.'' Harrison smiled and spun around as if showing off his outfit. You laughed at his mannerism.

''Well, some of the investors are already here and want to meet the person responsible for the partnership with the Japanese company.''

''Don't put all this on me, you were responsible too.''

''Wait, Tom... you didn't tell me that this came from you.'' You said resting one of your hands on his chest.

''What? Didn't he tell you? It turns out that if it weren't for this guy here, things wouldn't have happened. He was the one who stayed up working for hours and hours, making it impossible for the company to refuse the agreement.'' Harrison said.

How come Tom never mentioned this? Of course you knew something big was about to happen at the company but you didn't know that Tom was working so hard on it. So every night he took a while to get home, he was at work? Was the silence that came from him caused by this?

Tom looked uncomfortable, which was strange. Why was he acting like this?

A waiter approached the three of you and held out a tray with glasses of what looked like champagne. Harrison took one, while Tom did too and handed it to you.

''Aren't you going to drink?'' Harrison asked raising an eyebrow.

''I'm driving tonight.'' His hand returned to your waist and you felt his fingers lightly caressing over the thin material of the dress. ''Let's do this. I'll be right back, okay?'' He turned to you, who in response just nodded.

''Y/N, Sophie is near the bar. She was looking forward to your arrival.'' He pointed to where his wife was talking to two women unknown to you. ''She said that only you understand her in this place.''

''I say the same about her.'' You started walking towards your friend, who, upon seeing you, completely forgot about the two strangers she was talking to.

''I'm so grateful to see you. I was already starting to panic.'' She hugged you. ''Girl, and that dress! You look wonderful.'' She said looking you up and down.

''Did you like it? I think I made the right choice.''

''Definitely. I bet Tom went crazy when he saw you like that'' She said winking. Sophie was one of the only people who knew about how troubled your relationship was, and she certainly hoped that things between you would get better.

Just like your words to Harrison, she was the only person you could count on at the moment. Ever since their relationship began, just a few months after you and Tom became official, you two had been inseparable. The two of you worked together to help the two of them when they decided to start a company. And in this world made of appearances, you remained the same.

Obviously, Tom and Harrison have other partners who are married to snobbish and difficult to deal with women. And even though their husbands only have a small portion of the company, they act as if they are in charge of everything and everyone.

That's why you two stick together. Holding each other.

''It turns out that I was also expecting a reaction but I didn't get much.'' You say dejectedly taking a sip of the drink. Her hand affectionately roams your arm.

''I'm sorry, darling. He may not have shown it but I bet he won't resist and at the end of the night we know what will happen.'' The suggestive way in which she spoke made you laugh sincerely. ''We know what you have hidden there!'' You chuckled even though you weren't sure how this night would end and if it would go that way.

''For now I don't want to think about it, let's just enjoy it, okay?'' You tell her, holding her hand and pulling her close to the bar. ''Let's order a drink!''

And while you distracted the thoughts that disturbed you with what you were experiencing at the moment, Tom followed your every move, instead of paying attention to the compliments and questions he received.

''What you're doing for the company is great, Thomas! I'm sure it will grow more every day.'' Peter's hand, one of the investors, stopped on his shoulder, pulling him back.

''Thanks, but I wouldn't be able to do any of this alone.'' He said. ''None of this would be possible without the help of everyone who works at the company. Everyone, without exception.''

''And he's still humble. You really impress me, boy'' Peter laughs, making everyone in the circle laugh too.

''If you'll excuse us, we need to talk for a second.'' Harrison interrupts and pulls Tom aside, leaving the circle of middle-aged men. ''Mate, are you okay? You seem a little distant.''

Tom stares at the ground, trying to keep himself steady. His emotions were running high, and he didn't want to show it, at least not here and now.

''Yeah, I just need to have a glass of water.'' He replied walking towards one of the waiters who was carrying what he needed. ''This conversation has stressed me out. Harrison, I didn't do it all alone. You were part of it too.''

''Tom, I know that. Just accept the compliment, you know that's what they like to do. They're just interested in the money they're going to receive from all of this.'' Harrison says, resting his hand on his friend's shoulder. ''You do not need to worry about me. After all, I didn't lie about who actually stayed up late working on this project. The merit is yours, my friend.''

‘’Thanks, mate” Tom smiled and hugged his friend.

''Let's mingle a little bit more, okay? Then we can return to the arms of our dear wives.'' After Harrison's words, Tom's eyes went looking for you again. And they found you in the same place, laughing and enjoying the night, looking freer than before. ''Speaking of which, why didn't you tell her what was going on?''

''I think I was working too much and didn't want to worry her. She just got promoted and you know how Y/N is like. Always putting the needs of others above her own.’’

''Tom, she is your wife. Not to mention she's the mother of your daughter. She needs to know about things that happen, you can't deal with everything alone.''

''I know that.'' He took a deep breath. ''But this is not the time for that, shall we continue?''

Harrison looked a little disappointed but didn't want to step on any more toes, so he just agreed and they carried on with the night.

...

''I can't believe he did that.'' Sophie said shocked. ''What an asshole.''

''Well, you can believe it.''

''He promotes you and still has the courage to challenge you? Doubting whether you will be able to complete your tasks on time?''

Since you were promoted, your boss has been making comments about your work making you doubt whether it was a good choice or not. Which doesn't make sense because the decision to promote you was his. How can he doubt your abilities now?

''It's been exhausting but I've been trying not to pay too much attention to his sarcastic comments.''

''I bet so, but I'm sure you're doing an excellent job.'' She smiled. ‘’Seriously, you shouldn't care about this asshole’’

''Whoa, who's the asshole?'' You heard Harrison's voice, and turned around to find him and Tom approaching the two of you.

''Y/N's boss is trying to make her work life hell.'' She responded as Harrison hugged her from behind. At that moment you felt jealous of her. ''Hey, want to dance?''

''Hm, one of the bosses embarrassing himself on the dance floor with his lovely wife? Is this something everyone here would like to witness?'' He pretended to think for a while before holding her hand. ''I bet they wouldn't miss this for anything.'' He dragged her to the dance floor, leaving you and Tom standing next to each other laughing.

When the laughter stopped it was strange. They were there, husband and wife embarrassed to be so close. Tom broke the ice and got closer to her, who leaned back on a table. His hands went to her waist while hers went to his chest.

''I would ask you to dance too, but I don't know if everyone here is prepared to watch this disaster.'' The playful tone in his voice made her startle. She feigned shock.

''Are you sure about that? Am I the cause of disaster? Do I need to remind you of our first dance? How many times did you step on my foot that night?'' They laughed together and for the first time in a long time, you felt close to him. Almost complete. He was there, and he was yours. ‘’Tommy...’’

His heart missed a beat when he heard the nickname. Your hands went around his neck, your face slowly approaching his.

‘’Yeah, darling, I’m here.’’

''I really miss you.'' You say placing your head on his chest. ''I'm tired.''

''Do you want to go home?'' He asked, stroking your back.

''Are you sure? It's your party. I can go alone if you want. I'm not that drunk, I'm just really tired.'' Your voice was muffled but he could hear it.

''It doesn't matter, I won't let you go alone. I just need to say goodbye to some people, okay? And talk to Haz.'' He said, making you look at him.

''Okay, I'm going to the bathroom.'' He nodded and let you go. Watching your path before following his.

In the bathroom, you looked at yourself in the mirror and noticed how flushed you were. Not knowing if it was caused by the drinking or the closeness you were with your own husband.

You entered one of the stalls just as two women entered the bathroom.

''Did you see them today?" One of them said. ‘’They look so hot.’’

''Yeah, it's a shame they had those two clinging to their arms all night.'' The second voice said, Ava, you recognized it. She was Tom and Harrison's assistant at the company. The person everyone has to deal with directly before they can exchange a word with either of them. Normally, she is the one who decides which issue is extremely important and needs to reach them or not.

''Did you see Y/N tonight? I never imagined she could dress so well''.

''It was definitely just for the show.'' Ava replied and you held your breath in fear that they would realize that there was someone else in the same room as them. ''At least she looks pretty today.''

''And how do you feel about that?'' The girl asked cautiously.

''What do you mean by that, Izzy? Do you think I'm afraid of her?'' Ava mocked. ''You don't even know the half of it.''

''It's his wife.'' The second girl, Izzy, clarified.

''Do you want to know? Tom and I have become very close these last few weeks. Late one night, while we were at the office, he opened up to me. He was very honest saying that their marriage is not going well. Made it seem like he was tired of her or something.'' She said. ''What they did today was just to keep up appearances. I know what he really wants.''

''You mean he wants you?'' Izzy said and you felt your heart stop waiting for the answer.

''It's not that, I mean, we had a moment. This week, he was in the middle of a meeting when his daughter's daycare center called. Something about her fighting with a colleague over a pen, childish stuff, you know? I needed to act and since my name was on the list of people who could pick her up, I went.'' You felt dizzy upon hearing the information. How had Tom not told you this? ''I think he was extremely grateful, we hugged and well, we almost kissed.''

Everything was getting blurry, you couldn't believe he would do something like that.

''It didn't happen, so I don't want to say he wants me, but maybe he wants to get rid of her.'' She finished. ''Anyway, I wouldn't have a relationship with him. A daughter and an ex-wife? It is not for me. But that's it, looking doesn't take away anything.''

They left the bathroom still gossiping, but you couldn't hear anything else. How could he have done this? Not just exposing your relationship to a stranger and almost kissing her but hiding something about your own daughter? Trying to remember a moment that may have been abnormal, you remembered two weeks ago, when Tom called you informing you that he was already at home with Ollie earlier and that you didn't need to pick her up. This was unusual, and never happened unless you agreed beforehand.

Something happened at her school, little Olivie got into trouble and you didn't know about it. You couldn't discipline your own daughter because your husband decided to hide it from you.

After the shock, some things started to make sense and well, your husband almost kissed another woman. There's a lot going on and you're not in a good place to think about it. Your only goal now is to go home.

Leaving the cabin, you looked in the mirror and finally noticed the tears running down your face.

You quickly wiped your face and left the bathroom, encountering who you wanted to avoid. He was there, near the door, talking to the two women who had just exposed the biggest nonsense that Tom Holland could have done in his life. His eyes met yours and he was distracted, confused by your expression, soon the women also noticed that you left the bathroom right behind them.

And they knew what they had done. They said goodbye to Tom without looking back. He walked up to you and cupped your face with his hand.

''Y/N what happened?'' He said worriedly, you grabbed his wrists, removing his hands from your face.

''I'm going home.'' Was the only thing you said before walking past him towards the exit. Without looking at anyone, not even Sophie.

When you finally left the salon, the same boy from earlier was standing in front of the familiar car, waiting for the owner. He spotted Tom, who was behind you and handed him the keys.

He thanked the boy and stopped in front of you.

''Let's go, and we'll talk about what's going on.'' He held your hand only for you to make him let go right away.

''I'm not going with you''

''What? Y/N, get in the car.''

You shook your head and the tears came back. Soon your face was covered and you couldn't control it.

''No. How could you... how could you do this to me?" Your voice was increasing and Tom started looking around frantically.

''Y/N, baby, please. Let's go home.’’ Your hands went to your face, hiding it, embarrassed by this whole situation.

''You're hurting me so much, Tommy.'' Carefully he approached you and hugged you. And you allowed it. Because you are tired, tired of fighting, of holding this relationship alone, of holding a family alone.

Tom managed to guide you to the car and just like on the way there, the return was filled with silence. The only thing that could be heard this time was the sound of your sniffing.

When you arrived home, you were the first to get out of the car without looking back. Tom hadn't even parked properly and you were already outside. Sobriety overshadowed any drink you had this evening. With difficulty you found the keys to the front door inside your bag.

Finally inside the house, you took off your heels, leaving them at the entrance and made your way to the living room. You can hear Tom closing the door and walking right behind you.

''Can you tell me what happened to Ollie at school?'' You turned to him. ''Or are you going to keep hiding this from me?''

And so, Tom understood. He finally understood what had happened. You knew everything.

''She had a fight with a friend. Apparently, he took something from her and she tried to resolve it by pushing the child.'' Tom said as he ran his hands through his hair, messing it up. ''The child was not hurt and the parents understood that it was just a silly disagreement between the children. But the school called me to talk about her behavior.''

''They just called you, or called us both?’’

''Both of us.'' He said knowing where this was going. Your face contorted into an expression of pain.

''Do you know how that makes me feel, Tom? My daughter behaved badly and you omitted me to be responsible for it. She's not just yours, Tom. I need to know these things. What does this teach her? That it's ok if she hides certain things from me, because you did the same? And when she decides to do this with both of us? That hiding things is better?''

''I know I made a mistake, Y/N but I didn't want to burden you. I know the work has been difficult. Hell, you said that to Sophie today.'' He said trying to defend himself. ''I'm sorry for hiding it from you, but I did it thinking about saving you some worry.''

''Thomas, she's my daughter too. I need to know what happens to her. God, Tom, she's 4 years old.'' You try to reason with him, who just sits on the couch. ''I know that's not the whole reason you kept this from me.''

And when he looks up, you find him with eyes full of tears ready to collapse.

''I heard Ava's conversation in the bathroom, that's how I found out. I know she went to pick up Olivie that day. And for the record, I know she's your secretary but I want her off the list of people who can pick up Ollie.'' You say, moving away from him. ''I know what happened next. Between you two.''

Tom quickly stood up in front of you, his eyes begging you to accept whatever he was going to say.

''I don't know what she said, but you need to believe me when I tell you that nothing happened between us. I could never do that to you Y/N, you need to know that.'' And to his surprise you smiled softly. ''From the first moment you came into my life, I knew I would never need anyone again, no matter what.''

''Tom, what happened to us? When and why did we grow so far apart? Isn't this what we wanted, our family?''

''I know I've been distant but Y/N... things really aren't easy. We almost lost... we almost lost the company. Our accounts weren't good, there was a month when I thought we wouldn't be able to pay the employees. Me and Haz were desperate.'' He turned around as if he was embarrassed. ''We almost lost our investors. That's why I had to work twice as hard. So I spent a few nights away from home. In the midst of all this, all I could think about was the two of you. I needed to protect you no matter what.''

Your face softened upon hearing his outburst.

''It's been 10 years since we started this project and look at everything we've built. I had to do something. I know you work and believe me, you are the best at what you do, and your boss is just another asshole in this world who thinks he is better than others, but wouldn't be able to do half as much as you.’’

His face, like yours, was already full of tears.

''I'm sorry, I just couldn't let it all end like this. So, I did everything I could to rebuild what we have.'' He finished, approaching you once again, carefully his hands cupped your face. ''I'm sorry, my intention was never to hurt you. I would never do that.''

Without thinking twice, your lips pressed against his. You hadn’t felt them in a while. Your hands went to his hair while his went to your waist, pulling you as close as possible. As you deepened the kiss, Tom's hands ran down your back. His lips trailed down to your neck and collarbone, leaving open-mouthed kisses along the way.

Your hands found the jacket he still wore, removing it.

''Y/N, I don't want to... are you sure?'' He said with a hitched breath as you left small kisses on his lips. It had been so long since you had truly felt him.

''Yes I'm sure. I miss you so much, Tom, please.'' You said as you stared at him firmly.

He guided you to your room and as always, you let him, trusting him as you always did. And that night, Tom made you feel what you hadn't felt in a while, closeness to him. The care he always had, the affection. Skin on skin, sweat, short and mixed breaths.

...

On Sunday, two nights later, in the morning Tom told Nikki that you would be there for lunch and she could barely contain her happiness at hearing the news. Somehow she managed to notice the difference in her son's tone of voice and knew that things were working out.

Of course, you talked afterwards, for a long time, and agreed that you wouldn't hide anything from each other, especially issues related to Olivie. And you would always be there to listen to each other in any difficulty that may arise. That's what you promised when you exchanged rings and it would remain that way for a long time.

''Mumma, daddy!'' Olivie's excited voice was the first thing you heard when you arrived in the back garden of the Holland family house.

''Hi, baby!'' You said as Tom picked Ollie up. ''Did you have fun with grandma and grandpa?''

''Yeah, we made cookies.'' She said excitedly.

''I hope you left one for me.'' Tom said making the little girl laugh.

''I ate them all.'' She said jokingly. ''Sorry dad.'' Tom opened his mouth pretending to be shocked and you laughed at their mannerism.

This was what you missed, moments of joy and togetherness, happiness and love.

______________________________________________________________

Hope you liked it!

#tom holland x y/n #tom holland angst #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine #tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x you #ceo!tom #dad!tom holland #tom holland au #mom!reader #tom holland imagines

[tom-holland-parker]

Gray Blazer

Summary: It was an honest mistake forgetting your jacket but when your CEO boss offers you his blazer you end up with a date

Pairing: CEO!Tom x reader

Warning: none just fluff 

Word Count: 868

Note: terrible description we all know i suck at them just read and enjoy I guess

Masterlist

Everyone knew that your boss had expensive taste. He liked to look good no matter the cost, it wasn’t like he didn’t have the money to spare.

You on the other hand were completely different. It wasn’t that you couldn’t afford nice things, your boss paid you well enough to support a good lifestyle, you just weren’t raised to value materialistic things. 

It was a stupid idea to not bring your jacket but the weather was nice in the morning so you figured that you wouldn’t need one come the afternoon. However as the cold air hit your body you began to shiver, regretting the fact that you left your sweater at home.

“You’re cold” You glanced at your boss, sitting next to you at the lunch table, there were still a few minutes left before the others arrived to the restaurant for the meeting that was supposed to take place

“Just a little, I’ll be fine” You said, not looking up from the file in front of you. 

Tom shook his head, “I told you to bring a jacket.” You ignored him, focusing on making sure the meeting went as smoothly as possible. If anything went south you knew Tom would be grumpier than usual. He rolled his eyes as he fumbled to pull off his blazer, “Here”

You glanced his way, shaking your head at the gray blazer being offered to you, “I’m fin-”

“Just take the jacket” Tom grumbled, “Please I don’t want you to be cold”

Your face heated, butterflies erupting in your stomach as you took the jacket and put it on. It was oversized and with every breath you took you were faced with the rich scent of his cologne. You tried your best to hide your delight as you turned to greet the rest of the members in the meeting that were walking to the table. Tom smirked as he straightened his shirt, standing up to greet everyone

///

The meeting went fast thanks to how well you organized everything. As you stepped into the office most of the eyes were on you, staring as you walked to your desk. “You did a good job today” Tom smiled, handing you the files before walking into his office. 

It took all about 3 minutes before someone was walking to your desk, this eyes begging for gossip, “I didn’t know you and the boss were that close, no wonder you're his favorite assistant”

Melanie from Accounting was probably the biggest gossip in the office, she knew everything about everyone and never shied away from prying into people’s personal life. She’d been after you job for months, being the CEO’s assistant meant that you knew everything that was happening or going to happen before anything else.

“Melanie, what are you talking about?” You rolled your eyes as you began to organize your desk, “I have work to do”

“Well it’s not everyday that Tom Holland walks through the elevator with a smile on his face and his designer blazer wrapped around someone else” Melanie smiled, “I would only assume that you and him were dating”

You looked down at the blazer you were still wearing. You had honestly forgotten you were still wearing it, but Tom didn’t complain so you didn’t see it as a problem. “I forgot my jacket and the restaurant was cold, he was just being friendly, Melanie now please get back to work”

Melanie pursed her lips, clearly not believing you, “Well fine but when a man lets you borrow his thousand dollar blazer, it doesn’t seem just friendly”

You rolled your eyes as she walked away but curiosity got the best of you. This wasn’t really an expensive blazer, was it? 

A quick google search told you everything you needed to know. The blazer in your possession was exactly $1384. You shivered at the price, hating the thought of something so expensive being in your possession, you definitely couldn’t afford to replace it if you messed it up. 

Quickly you ran to Tom’s office with the blazer in hand, “here you go thank you for letting me borrow it”

Tom’s stared at you in confusion, “keep it”

Your eyes widened, “absolutely not it’s too expensive I can’t pay you back for it” 

He smiled, putting his hands behind his head as he leaned back in his chair, “well then that means it’s time for a raise”

You suppressed a chuckle, “I'm not joking please just take it back”

“I gotta say, I do like the sight of you in my clothes” 

There it was again, those butterflies flying around your stomach, “What’s it going to take for you to take it back”

Tom sat up, looking at you with a playful grin, “how about you go to dinner with me, Saturday”

You sighed knowing that he would be stubborn and easily charm his way into getting a yes, “fine but I'm only saying yes so you can take the blazer back” 

Tom smirked, “yeah we’re totally not gonna fall in love and live happily ever after”

You rolled your eyes as you turned to walk out the room a large smile plastered on your face, “eight o'clock don’t be late”

///

TAGLIST

@writesforholland @wildxwidow @nelly-belly @marvelgurl @marvelxholland

@crybabyddl @wildholland @inas-thing @hehehehannahthings @prancerrparkerr @mn-jun @abiseifried @randomwriter1021 @hunnybunimdun @raajali3 @spideysbae @liltimmyst @army24-7

#CEO!Tom #Ceo!tom x reader #ceo!tom x y/n #tom holland #tom holland au #tom holland imagines #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland blurb #tom holland x reader #tom holland fluff #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x fem!reader #Ceo!tom x assistant!reader #ceo!tom fluff #tom holland x reader fluff

[hrtbreakanniversary]

fine line | tom holland [1]

summary: the all put together mr. holland is quick to fall after 5 simple words.

ms. y/l/n just wants a vacation.

pairing: ceo!tom holland x secretary!reader

word count: 5.7k

warnings: descriptions of sexual intercourse, 18+, profanity, nothing much

ONE. LIGHTS UP

All the lights couldn't put out the dark Running through my heart Lights up and they know who you are Know who you are Do you know who you are?

Luminescence lights filled the room. The features of the couple unseen as they moved around the silk sheet covered bed. Slithering himself between the tan legs of the female, pleasure shooting through his body as she screamed with each thrust as a male stood behind him, his lips attached to the bare skin of his shoulder, running his hands up and down his toned abs.

Chills running down his body when the male ran his finger down between his crevices of his bottom, inching closer to the spot that ensued an inch to be touched. A loud smack ran the room causing the both of them to let out a soft laugh at the tease.

The male's attention returned back to the female below him as she swiveled her hips.

Only prompting him to grab the hair of the woman in front of him, pounding into her faster as all of their moans filled the room.

"Fuck, are you close?" The girl didn't answer, resulting in her hair getting pulled back,"Answer me, are you coming?"

The other male's weight moved from behind to in front of the woman. Her response muffled by the sudden intrusion in her mouth.

"Speak louder, baby."

"I'm - I - I'm com-"

_

"Coming!", She replied back to her roommate who alerted that their takeout had arrived.

Urgent fingers ran along the mousepad of the MacBook, her eyes reading over and over again the email of rejecton. Hoping that she was reading it incorrectly. But by the fifth time, she accepted that this was reality.

All she wanted was one thing.

A stupid vacation.

"Asshole!" She exclaimed with her mouth as she repeatedly slammed her hand against the marble counter of her small desk. A meow interrupted her mid slap. "I know, Channing Furtum. No loud noises after 10 or else Mr.Hong is going to file another complaint." She sighed at the cat that perched itself comfortably on one of her wooden shelves.

"Please do not tell you're talking to that feline again."

"Tuwaine, aren't you from London as well? Convince him with your British to British brain connection."

"I don't think that's how it works and that man doesn't even spare me a glance. And the one time he did, I almost pissed my pants. His ass is watching my every move, I feel."

"TMI." Y/N scoffed into the speaker of the phone, scratching the scalp out of her head from frustration.

Her phone dinged for the 100th time as her family group chat had rose from the dead due to current events. One of her family members had just recently had a child and everyone is trying to book a flight to Bakersfield, California to see the shriveled up version of her cousin, Maurice.

She had nothing against babies but she doesn't understand how one can find a newborn baby so cute.

But her main priority was for her Ma Ma's birthday. She hasn't seen her grandma in such a long time since she's moved to New York.

It wasn't just the group chat but her parents asking her if one of the many itineraries sent were one of hers. But according to the email that writes in the first few lines:

The employee is unable to take requested days off due to responsibilities and duties requested by Mr. Tom Holland.

There's a clear chance it's not.

Another scream escaped from her throat, shooting up from her seat as her feet stomped against her floor.

A response in return was the thump of what she figured was the top of a broomstick. She couldn't hear exactly what the elderly man was saying but from the harshness of his tone, it wasn't anything too nice.

"You realize I'm still on the phone right?"

"Why aren't you in mourning with me?"

"Because this isn't the first time. He always says no. The number of PTOs you have can last you at least a year."

Memories flooded in from when she first started working when she was on a date with somebody that she had met on one of those online dating apps and had received an urgent text from Tom. Worried that some kind of project was behind or there was a missing file, she had rushed to work.

Her high heels digging into the back of her ankle, scurrying against the title floors to get to the large office at the end of the room. Her date was not impressed at all.

Even though she didn't read a single line of the agreement she signed, she remembered him clearly highlighting a part of it that told her to be quick on her feet to help him when he calls in case it was a life or death situation.

The glass door was already partially open when she used full force to open it, only to find him put all together with a stress ball in his hand. A poster on the side falling face down. His eyes fluttering closed as if he were already slipping into REM, Tom leaned back in his chair," I couldn't get the staple out of the wall."

Either way, that date wasn't meant to be. She didn't feel anything good coming out of man who pours out a mountain of salt on his pasta.

"I'll take that year anytime. Maybe find a new job while I'm at it."

"Not when Tommy doesn't know how to wipe his own ass."

"For somebody that's afraid of him, you sure talk about his ass a lot."

"For somebody that's not afraid of him, you sure never stand up to him."

As much as she preaches finding a new job, it's hard to find one without having much experience anywhere except for retail. When she was in a low, Tom had given her the job despite not having any qualifications that were listed in the job description. Then again, all you need to know is basic human skills and patience to babysit. Even easier when the one you are babysitting is an adult.

So she couldn't quit even if she wanted to.

Herr boss's satisfaction is her satisfaction despite the constant pounding in her head that occurred each time she hears his voice.

As Tuwaine rambled on and on about this bar he had stopped by last night, her calendar filled with events from both her and her roommate glared at her. This weekend had nothing booked! I mean she could always just leave tomorrow night and arrive there on Saturday then leave for a whole day of flights on Sunday.

Mid sentence, the story cut off as the call was paused and intercepted by another. Side stepping back to where her phone was placed, she wasn't surprised by the contact name that appeared.

Not even a name was shown but a little devil emoji in it's place.

She pressed the end and accept, planning to explain Tuwaine later because the ordeal was going to be the usual. Something that Tom needed help with that a simple task that a 7 year old could do or something that wasn't too grand.

In a hushed tone, "Wingguard Mansion." Her home screen reappearing.

_

The second floor consisted of several long tables with different groups attending to their robots. One had an arm that was able to extend itself and another was being controlled to pass around snacks to other words.

Y/N stood with Tuwaine, who was apart of the coding team. Under her eyes, bags and her hair barely being brushed through or fixed. A simple ponytail to keep her hair up and out of the way.

"You're telling me when you walked in there, the girl's mouth was covered in blood and then the other guy looked like he was on his period."

Taking a long drag out of one of the coffees in her hand, she nodded before gagging at the bitter taste.

"So she bit the bloke's dick off?" Laughter filled the cube. "And where was the boss?"

"He had me talking to the police while he slept." Tuwaine shook his head in disbelief as Y/N continued," You know how hard it was to explain to them what happened?"

According to the girl, she felt so good that she accidentally clenched her teeth forgetting that there was something in her mouth. It was completely traumatizing just because the guy would be screaming in pain with every step he took. The situation would've been funny at the time to Y/N if she didn't have to stay out till 3 am and then take the subway which made her get home at 4 on the dot. Her phone ringing her ear at 7 am so he could tell her to get his coffee with two sugars for the "long night" he had.

"So while you're working, he's fucking around." Tuwaine finished off the rest of his muffin," I don't know how you do it."

Y/N shrugged before a whistle sung through the office as one of the employees came running with a panicked look on his face..In a hushed tone, he spoke," It's here."

As he rushed by, he sideswepped one of the cups of Y/N's hand, making it spill into a trashcan that was thankfully right below her. With no time to use such foul words to call out the worker, she just wiped her hand on the inside of her black cotton coat.

The elevators door opened again and the click of shoes began to come down the hallway. Y/N herself took the initiate to make her way towards the man while all of the workers tried make themselves look busy. She even saw one person erasing a sentence and retyping it over and over again.

Tom walked with his eyes, stuck to his phone. And swiftly, Y/N handed his coffee to him and walked side by side to him," Morning, boss. You have a conference call in 30 minutes."

They entered his large office that looked out to a beautiful view of New York. Each time Y/N got a moment of her own in this office, she would watch the clouds float by and the new faces that came everyday into time square. To some, the view was bore but to her, it was everything. Even if she encountered a weird sight every so often.

"Yes, about the new launch of the voice controlled drones. I know."

"Staff meeting at 10."

"Did you call that one guy? The one with receding hairline."

"Yeah, Junie? Called her and told her if he doesn't bring in the blueprints, he won't be getting the sponsor. Also your immigration lawyer called. She said that's imperative that you-"

"Cancel the call, push the meeting to tomorrow, and keep the lawyer on the sheets." Tom flipped through some folders on his desk," Get a hold of PR, Osterfield's wants to do a collaboration."

"Harrison Osterfield? Nicely done."

Tom finally looked up from the things in his hands,"Ms. Y/L/N, do you think our company is not good on its own? Do you have inappropriate feelings for our client? That can cause potential trouble."

"N-No, I just like what they put out there."

"If I want your opinion, I will ask for it."

"But you..." Voice trailing off when he answered his ringing phone. Business call or not, it was clear he had the last word.

Used to it all, Y/N refrained from rolling her eyes and shaking her head. Taking one of the folders instead to keep her mind somewhere else than the plan that was forming in her head to take one of those phone numbers off the bulletin board and ask them to do voodoo.

"By the way, who is Luke and why does he want me to call him?"

Her eyes widened. Luke is the cute barista from the coffee chop near her apartment and partially one of the reasons she wasn't late. He flirted more than he needed to in order to earn tip but she would have never guessed he was bold or serious enough to write the visible heart and his phone number on the cup.

"Well, that was my cup."

"And I'm drinking your coffee why?"

"Because your coffee spilled."

He read the label, "So you drink dark roasted coffee with two sugars?"

"Yeah, I like my coffee as dark as my soul," She grinned at her joke but was met with a straight face, two blinks of the eye translating to an absurd insult, "I mean I couldn't possibly order two coffees for you in case one spilled. That would be incredibly pathetic, I know."

Blink. Blink. Blink.

"Good morning to you, Mr. Holland." She closed his door without another word.

+

Hands crunched together, the whites on his knuckles showing.

Unprepared slides. Blueprints uncompleted. Body language showing the presenter was clearly unprofessional in matters of how he spoke. "Get this shit out of my face." The phone flew across the room, the wheels of his chair scratching against the floor as he held his face in his hand in anger.

Y/N knew to give the man space before he blew up on her, rushing to her own desk and picking up the now cracked phone. The second she saw his figure stalking towards the door, she opened up a forum with an alert written in the all caps: "THE WITCH IS ON HIS BROOM.". Commotion of workers pulling their things back together were white noise when Y/N quickened her pace to follow Tom.

It was a quick turn into a room that held the room of their chief operating officer, Bob. The door slammed open, the handle hitting the side of the wall. Bob looked up from his activities with his confusion in his eyes when Tom decided to silently take a seat. "This is leather? Shell cordovan?"

The tension in the air so thick, Y/N struggling to breathe.

Bob enthusiastically began to explain his collection he had at home, Tom placing his hands on his hips when he stood up from the spot. Clearly uninterested in the topic, his mocking laugher as he stepped closer to the middle aged man.

"Bob, I'm letting you go." Bob could only stare in shock, words unable to come out of his mouth," I asked you to do one simple thing and you may have costed us a investor. So... you're fired. Now I will give you two months to find another job before you tell everyone you resigned, OK?"

None another word was spoken before Tom walked out first with Y/N following close behind, her eyes closed in on the clearly upset figure," What's his twenty?"

"He's moving. He has crazy eyes."

Hell was about to break lose. Moving off to the side as Bob kicked over a trashcan in his way.

" You selfish son of a bitch! You can't fire me. You don't see what you're doing here? Some spoiled rich kid thinks he could fire me."

Oh no, Bob. Y/N clasped her hand together, Tom tucking both of his hands into the pockets of his slack, leaning with his head slightly back. Nonchalant to all, seemingly unbothered. But Y/N knew what he was doing. He was taunting.

Bob stepped closer, "I tried to let it go. Dom passing on his legacy to some kid knowing full well he should've gave to me. So I've been here much longer than you have for you to fire me. You don't get to do that. So I know you feel threatened by me because I'm 10 times more qualified than you are."

"Are you quite done?"

Bob's eyes flicked over to Y/N and back to Tom before returning back to Y/N," And you treat all of us like slaves when I haven't seen you lift a single finger. If you had given me time to prepare instead having your little whore here last minute tell me about the project. And you know what? I feel sorry for you. Because you know what you're gonna have on your deathbed? Nothing and no one."

"I didn't fire you because I feel threatened. No." Tom stood over the man who was only a centimeter shorter than him but Bob was cowering where he stood despite his outburst," I fired you because you're a lazy, entitled, incompetent and you spend more time perving on the woman here than in your office. I've received several reports about several employees claiming how uncomfortable you make them feel and even now, you dare disrespect Ms. Y/L/N. If you say another word, Tuwaine is gonna have you thrown on your ass onto the sidewalk. Another word and you're going out of here with an armed escort. Y/N will film with her camera and will put it on that little video app with a little montage of all the complaints I have on you. What is it called again?"

"You know my name?" Y/N heard Tuwaine ask. She shushed him before quipping up, "Tiktok, sir.".

"Exactly. Is that what you want?" Tom turned around and motioned with a swift point of his thumb," Get him out of here."

Y/N could feel Tom's stare on her, Bob long forgotten as his presence disappeared from the hallway despite his desperate screams of letting him go. "How long ago did you tell him about the report?"

"Last week when you told me."

"I first told you about this three weeks ago."

"No, you told me last week."

Y/N was met with a hard stare, almost as if it could pierce through her skill. Tom made a beeline back to his office, the door closing behind him. While he remained calm throughout, it felt like a slap in her face. She wouldn't be surprised if she went in there and found his floor full of clutter from him swiping his desk

There were so many deadlines and emails that she has always managed to keep up and be responsible of. She was sure she would've been knowing of another deadline that Tom had put out.

+

She was done. She was dead. The monitor of her computer beeping like a hospital signaling a heart rate going flat. After checking her email, she had seen the following headline about the project he was working on. And indeed, it was dated last month and three weeks back.

"Come on, you even do his laundry. There's no way he's firing you." A girl tried to make her make feel better but returned to her own work when Y/N hid her face into the palms of her hands.

Her eyes wavered over to the still shut door. The only time it opened was twice when she saw two people walk into the room and come back out after 10 minutes within the last hour and a half.

"Yeah, maybe." Definitely way. He would've had her doing every single thing but there hasn't been a single page to her phone or anything. She was definitely fired and there's no doubt about it. The door finally opened, Tom's popping out. She didn't need to hear anything as he instead beckoned her with a wave of his hand.

Taking a deep breath, she stepped and shut the door behind her," I apologize extremely for my mistake. There has just been so many things and I know that I should've kept up with it but it was so much."

"So stupid."

"Well, that's a bit harsh."

"Damn bigots."

"I mean what I did wasn't that bad. I did a person to get fired... but that was way overdue for Bob."

"I mean my name is on the building! I'm a citizen here!"

Hold on a second...

"I'm beginning to think we're not talking about the same thing."

"They're going to deport me. Because of last night's fiasco. Apparently there's a thing where I can't get anything on my criminal record as the application is being developed. I didn't bite the guy's dick off and that's not even a crime. Hell, it was committed on American soil by an American!"

"Can't you work on the job from there? You've taken plenty of business trips."

"Yeah from inside the country. Plus they refused to do that. They're planning to have Bob take over because he has the most experience. I just fired the man."

"Wait, so does this mean I'm not fired?"

"Oh no, you are fired." Tom sat down on the edge of his desk with his hands clasped in his lap. No sympathy as Y/N's face fell.

"Sir, I apologize again for the mishap but understand that there were a lot of things I had to keep control of.

"While I've always wanted to let go of Bob, you are also at fault and lost us an investor. If you were anyone else, I would've fired you on the spot. I gave it a lot of thinking and it still comes out to the same result. Pack your things starting next week. I still need you for tomorrows' event."

"I was actually planning to go to Grandma's."

"And risk not get your last paycheck? Which guessing how much it'd be, it seems like a lot. I can always just use that money for the fund-"

'I'll be there, no worries."

"Until then, I need to find out a way to convince them to let me stay. There's no way in hell I'm giving up the company for a year to that perv."

"I mean you could get married. I've heard about that scheme before."

"Does it look like there's anybody I'm going to marry?" Tom tapped his temple with his index finger, "Cmon, Y/N, think."

"I mean you don't have to love them" Y/N shrugged, " I mean it's not like it's hard for you to find a person to marry. You had no struggle last night with the-"

"Let's not talk about last night."

_

In awe, she looked around the wide and big room. Controlled drones flew around the air conditioned arena. Spider like robots walked across the floor by people who were using their brain power to make it work.

"Mr. Holland, this is amazing. This is all Oster's Power?"

While she was fascinated by everything, the slicked back hair was beginning to curl out of it's form as Tom was having an essential life crisis. Many would think he was composed but he was quite literally freaking out at the moment. His breathing going heavier as more and more people crowded the large hall. What the hell was he doing to do? He's going to be deported in two weeks and he's trying to settle a large collaboration with a bigger company. If the company gets handed over to Bob and the merge doesn't go well, Holland will burn and burn.

Is this karma? Had he done something wrong?

Speak of the devil.

In all his pride and glory, Harrison Osterfield walked with two guards in front of them. When they reached the two, the guards separated and allowed the handsome man to step forward and a slender brunette woman appeared aside him.

"Pleasure to meet you in the skin, Holland." His soft accent beating the harsh headlines that blog articles spoke of about his strict attitude," And this must be Ms. Y/L/N."

When she saw her ex boss not even raising his hand to shake Harrison's, she took over and held out hers for the sake of the awkwardness that filled the air," Thank you for inviting us. It's a wonderful business that you own."

Harrison nodded, his attention now fully on Tom who stared into the air. The woman smiled one full of straight teeth, therefore proving to Y/N that she was as perfect as she thought it was. "I'm Gracie James, Harrison's fiancé." Her ring finger coming into view as she showed off the big diamond," Just recently this week." moved forward to grasp Y/N's hand to warm it with hers," And you are? Are you two together? Do you work with him? Oh my! Are you two?" Her eyes moving side to side, insinuating a suggestive matter. Well... what was she to Tom now? She didn't necessarily work with him anymore.... she wasn't technically wasn't his friend... While her mind wondered, she looked around the room and saw Tom was still in La La Land with Harrison struggling to keep up a conversation with him. With her right arm out of the view, Y/N nudged his hard side and disrupted whatever trance that he was trapped in," Right. You go and enjoy your evening. I'll see you tonight for the press. If you would excuse me."

Tom disappeared into the large group of people, Y/N pivoting onto feet to race after him before she was held back by a large hand. Harrison smiling down at her as she returned to her former posture of standing up straight with her hands clasped together in front of her, "Sorry, I'm in a bit of a rush to go check on him. He may just be nervous. I can take any questions if you'd like."

"Actually, it's a question for you."

"Me?"

One of his securities reached into one of their coats to pull out a rectangle paper to pass it Harrison to then pass to Y/N. A business card. "Saw how fascinated you look by everything." Clicking the side of the card, "I know you want to remain loyal but know that I have a job opening for our QA section."

Harrison went on and on about the opening. How you don't need to know much about the technology, it's mostly computer and packaging that needs to done. The pay being around the same range as what she was making now, maybe even a few more. While she wanted to stay focused on what he had to say, a constant buzz in her purse distracting her.

"Just give it a thought, alright? Tom is a good man but I could always use someone as bright as you here." Harrison raised his hand up to lay it on his shoulder," Make sure to try the cheddar biscuits, they just melt in your mouth."

"For sure. Thank you again."

Watching Harrison disappear into the crowd of people, Y/N was already hot on her toes. Advancing in direction that Tom had walked in, scrolling through the multiple messages that he sent that repeatedly told her to come but no directions to where he went. But seeing the long line of males lined up at the one person bathroom. she figured she knew where he was.

Prepping herself, she faked the best smile she could at the people in line as she cut to the front to knock on the door. "Mr-" The door swinging open, slamming against the wall before a hand grasped her wrist and pulled her in. Hair a mess, breathes coming out in a dry heaves. "Fuck, are you okay?" Tom slid and sat down on the tiled floor, hair constantly pushed back by his shaking hands. "How'd you even know that it would be me?"

"Anyone can tell the difference with that annoying voice you have."

"Okay, you're a little bit more mean than you usually are."

Tom's head peeked up from behind his knees, eyebrows knitted together in stress,” What the hell am I going to do? I'm going to be on a plane in two days back to London and convincing Harrison Osterfield to partner with my company in a week. They completely overlap and I can’t do it if I’m on the other side of the world!”

The ring from the light and the click of Y/N’s heels clicked and she didn't even stop to think about her actions. Now she was the floor with him, her hand coming up to rest against his knee. His glare bringing it back down to her lap.

"There's not a lot of good traits about you."

"Excuse me?"

"But what can I say is that you're manipulative. In a good way."

"In what way is that ever possibly good?"

"Okay here's the thing. I know when you're lying."

"How is this helping?"

"And for some reason, no one else can see through your bullshitting and somehow you always end up getting what you want. I always wondered and then I walked into your meeting that one time. That's when I heard it. You sway people with your words. What's the difference in this?"

"I'm getting deported."

"Just think of it as that one time you lied your way out of getting that parking ticket even though the sidewalk was clearly red and told you that it was red because you told the police officer you were colorblind then proceeded to bribe him even though it was your fault that lady accidentally hit your car."

"You make me sound like a bad person."

"Well... I can name off a few more-"

"Enough of that." He stood up randomly, "I'm fine now, okay? No more, I don't need to hear it." That wasn't even the worse of it, Y/N thought to herself, shaking her head to herself. With no warning, the weight she had put on him to hold her up making her lose her balance and her body stumble onto the dirty floor. Barely gathering herself before Tom opened the door and allowed the other men into the bathroom who only looked at her with a questioning look as they stepped over her frame.

More and more, she was starting to care less about being unemployed tomorrow morning.

+

Reporters gathered into another hall, Y/N stepping to the side near the tables.

Harrison was right. The cheese did in fact melt in her mouths. Gathering a couple onto her plate with some crackers, she settled down besides a reporter who was already staring at her through the rims of his glasses that were falling down the bridge of his nose.

She returned back a look of disgust. He was one of the men that just looked at her instead of helping her up like a decent human being so he could stare all she wanted. Choosing to sit a few seats down from him instead of the open one besides him, she figured he could get a taste of his own bad attitude of people not wanting to sit next to him... if he even notices.

The room began to darken as people came out from behind the curtains, all walking like robots up to the podium. Guess working with them so much slowly conditions you into one.

As the topic went into something she didn't really understand, she took another bite of one of the lighter color cheeses. And was immediately in shock.

It tasted so much like mashed potatoes, she could faint. She began to shove more and more in her mouth, not getting enough of the combo of crunch of the cracker and smoothness of cheese.

The euphoric moment paused when she heard the familiar voice but this time, he didn't sound as stoic as he usually sounded. His sentences coming out in cut up pieces.

"What do you have to say, Mr. Holland?"

"I'm sorry, could you repeat that please?"

The man with the glasses. What were his intentions?

"There's been rumors that'd you'll be returning to London, is that true? In the middle of the season, is that correct? Are you not worried of not hitting your next mark?"

Under the bright light, Y/N could see Tom beginning to sweat profusely. His hands fidgeting through one another with the table. Harrison on the end of the table playing with the skin of his lip which made the jittery feeling in his stomach explode. Her cover blowing up piece by piece.

Cmon... just as she thought that, she locked eyes with him as if he heard her. "Manipulate." She mouthed.

"And why would I be going back to London?"

"There's been word spreading that you're planning to go back to London, a report detailing that you were going to be deported. Say, whatever did you do to get deported?"

"Well I can ensure you that I'm not getting deported and I will not be returning back to London."

"But it says right in the the papers that the defendant has breached his contract and will have return back to London to finish his VISA."

"These claims do not make sense as I am engaged to my loving girlfriend."

Oh so now he uses the marriage tactic. Wonder where he got that from. Y/N shook her head and popped another cheese into her mouth like it was a piece of popcorn and she was watching a movie in the theaters.

"And who is this girlfriend of yours, if you don't mind me asking?"

Tom paused, unable to think of a fake name. It was too on the spot. His eyes wavered over the large crowd of reporters, their bodies leaning forward as they waited for the big reveal of the CEO who was thought to be the wanted and unattainable bachelor. Their pencils and fingers ready to write or type in the name of the mystery girl.

"Are you... by any chance, lying?"

"No." Tom quickly denied the claim. Y/N raked through her mind any name she could think. Trying her best to think of what that one girl's name was from the night before. Maybe she could offer a large sum of money to her in exchange for lying for only a couple of weeks. What the hell was she doing? She doesn't even work for him anymore. She didn't need to come up with these solutions for him. This was his mess, he fixes it.

"Her name is..." Y/N's breath hitched when her eyes locked with Tom's. The desperation in his eyes, almost pleading. Like he was asking for permission, his pen swaying side to side like a pendulum. The only beings in the room being them.

For all the times he's made her miss a date. For all the times he's stressed her out to the point of her hair falling out.

Does he truly deserve this easy way out?

But she couldn't help but nod, securing the deal. Tom turning back to the reporter," Her name is Y/N Y/L/N."

a/n: thank you for tooning in! also excuse the cringe company names lol. pls let me know how it is going, i've been iffy about my writing lately hehe.

TAGLIST: @bakusbabygirl @seasonswinter

#ceo!tom holland #ceotom #ceo!tom #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland fluff #tom holland au #au #ceo!au #alternative universe #imagine tom holland #fluff #angst #smut #tom holland one shot #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #fake dating #fake marriage #enemies to lovers #e2l

[mandyeet]

oh my god succession takes these past few days have been horrendous, no, shiv did not win, she has arguably one of the most tragic endings of the show please stop girlbossifying her y’all are killing me

#succession #shiv roy #kendall roy #roman roy #succession finale #logan roy #connor roy #tom wambsgans #ceo!tom

[nando161mando]

"Shilling for CEO's salaries? The same day as you launch a "prestige watch fair"? During a cost of living crisis? We've reached peak @financialreview."

https://bird.makeup/users/crikey_news/statuses/1676806930122129408

#female ceos #ceos #ceolife #ceobe #ceo!tom #now i’m a ceo and my book is set to be a £30m film #ceo #ausgov #auspol #tasgov #taspol #politas #australia #earth #greedisthecreed #greed #capitalism #capitalist hell #capitalist bullshit #capitalist dystopia #capitalist realism #visual capitalist #capitalist greed #jerkbillionaires #jerktrillionaires #jerkmillionaires #poverty #slavery #slavetothewage #centrelink

[youandtom2]

Praise You Like I Should (CEO!Tom Holland) 18+

Summary: You were always a people-pleaser, desperate to do right by everybody no matter what they asked. Being an intern, your boss Jackson exploited your people-pleaser tendencies in a very unprofessional manner, and CEO Mr Holland wasn't happy about it... Themes: smut! little bit of fluff and angst, dom!tom and sub!reader, oral (m+f), major praise kink, sir kink, overstimulation, masturbation (alone) , slight jewelry kink w/c: 10k+

MASTERLIST

You look over the dimly lit hall before you, tables decorated to the nines with hand-folded serviettes, silver-ware suited for royalty, gleaming as they sit on a fresh white linen table cloth, surrounded by tall plum-coloured cushioned chairs. There’s about twelve tables dotted around the hall identical to one another, waiting to be filled by guests in about an hour or so. The room sparkles with the metallic colouring of birthday banners and balloons floating around the room, illuminated by the dancing, multicoloured disco lights. 

The surprise birthday party you were instructed to organise is for Mr Holland’s business partner, Taylor. They’re each other's yin and yang, mixing together like oil on water but somehow they make it work. The informal Taylor bases his relationship with his employees on friendship and a sense of mutual equality, where the formal Mr Holland prefers professionalism and respect on top of trust. Nevertheless, both are equally respected as bosses and businessmen in their own right. It doesn’t necessarily mean you all prefer one over the other, but if you had to make a choice as to who you would rather hang out with, the answer is an obvious one.

As an intern, it isn’t exactly part of your remit to organise and host birthday events, but your boss, Jackson, ordered you to do it. Jackson’s notable within the workforce for several reasons; he’s outgoing, social, ambitious, confident, and is unofficially Taylor’s kiss ass. He appointed himself (ahem, you) with the responsibility of organising Taylor’s surprise party, not because he thinks he’s capable, but because he’s looking for recognition. What people don’t know is that he’s actually a lazy guy who has gotten himself drunk with the taste of superiority, abusing you as his own personal slave for favours both big (entirely consequential and out of your depth) and small (worthless and petty). Unfortunate to be his first intern, you’ve realised how gluttonous he’s become with you at his disposal how and whenever he pleases. However, being placed at the bottom of the pecking order, you’re not at liberty to say no. 

Jackson’s not your favourite boss by any means, but by God he keeps you busy. It tooks weeks for you to organise the venue, the catering, the entertainment, the decorations, the invitations, most importantly the cake, and the little oddities that everyone forgets about like hand-written name tags and having straws at the bar. You’ve been working relentlessly and after weeks of stress, late and often sleepless nights, numerous phone calls and emails, cancellations and rebookings, tonight is the night that all of that can end. The curse of being a perfectionist and a people-pleaser can finally release its hold on you.

Just as you finish clarifying the itinerary with the hotel’s bar staff, you notice a dark figure walking through the entrance. Your eyes trail nervously from the black patent shoes to the white shirt peeking beneath the black suit of which belongs to Mr Holland. He has his tortoise shell glasses perched perfectly on his nose, reflecting the colours of the disco lights as he walks towards you, stoic and poised. A silent ‘fuck’ crosses your mind. 

Being the CEO eight floors above you, Mr Holland’s face isn’t one that you see as consistently as Jackson’s. He’s at least 6 tiers above you in the pecking order, one of two to take superiority over a long line of directors, specialists, managers, supervisors and assistants before you. So you can hardly blame yourself when you start to feel nerves gathering in your chest, despite how well-respected he is amongst the workforce. 

His eyes finally find yours and he clarifies your name. You can appreciate that he’s at least taken the time to learn your face. “You're Jackson’s intern, right?” 

Wow. He knows you more than you thought. “Yes sir. Is there anything I can do for you?” 

“No, thank you. I was just coming to take a look around. I’m normally part of organising the celebrations but this year I’ve been too busy.” He wordlessly waves a hand before weaving in and out the tables, reading each name tag as he passes by. You watch nervously as he inspects the room until finding himself in front of what you call The Shrine with folded arms, almost bursting at the seams. More simply, it’s a collage of photos of Taylor taken over the years pieced together in a mosaic standing on an easel, gathered and no less arranged by you, of course. Next to it stands an empty corkboard, waiting to be filled with pictures from tonight's celebration, provided by the pop-up photobooth beside it. 

“Whose idea was this?” There’s a warm smile on Mr Holland’s face.

“Mine, sir.”

“And the handcrafted name tags?”

“Also me, sir.”

“I love it. It’s very creative.” You exhale loudly, relieved. The people-pleaser inside you starts to buzz, fluttering wildly at Mr Holland’s praise. “Did you…” His eyes squint narrowly, honing in on you. “Did you organise all of this?” 

“Yes, I did. The venue and catering took some negotiating but once that was planned, the rest came with time.”

“Impressive.”

You’re about to thank him but you're interrupted by the obnoxious calling of your name in a voice that booms from the entrance of the hall. Jackson marches towards you and you stand a little straighter. He doesn’t notice Mr Holland standing in the corner of the room next to the shrine. Instead of Mr Holland announcing himself, which is what you expected him to do, he sinks his hands into his pockets and quietly observes from afar. 

“I need a rundown--” Please, that would be great. “--and for the love of God where is the present I was supposed to get Taylor?” Thanks for getting me a present for him, I’ll pay you back.

Your answer is succinct and to the point. “I’ve left it in your hotel room; it’s a dinner reservation at Keens Steakhouse in New York. As for tonight, the bar will be open for guests when they arrive at 6:30pm, Taylor will arrive between 7:00pm and 7:15pm for his surprise, the buffet will open at 7:30pm and cake will be served at 8:30pm. Last orders are at 11:30pm and the curfew is midnight. Everyone has checked in and has their hotel room key, although Kelsey couldn’t make it tonight, so her room is spare.”

Jackson gives a gruff nod, mumbling something intelligible under his breath. He cautiously looks to the bar, then narrows his eyes at you with a pointed finger wavering in your face. “I need tonight to be perfect so I need you to be sober. No alcohol. Got it?” In other words, I can’t be bothered making sure everything goes smoothly so I need you to stay sober while I get shit-faced. You nod, pursing your lips angrily as he walks away from you without a final word.

With Jackson no longer in sight, the tension finally deflates and your shoulders relax. You hate that every interaction with Jackson is a test of your skill and knowledge, caught in a vicious cycle of having to prove yourself worthy time and time again. 

As Mr Holland emerges from the corner of the room, it’s an observation he also confronts having finally witnessed Jackson’s true authoritarian nature. His eyes are fixated on the golden doors in a stare so firm it could burn holes through the metal, and just when he steps into the brighter lights of the bar, his overall demeanour changes. 

His jaw ticks when he finally faces you. “Jackson’s keeping you on your toes tonight it seems.” 

“He always does, sir.” You shuffle awkwardly on your feet, recounting the numerous occasions his brutal demands have worked you to the bone.

“I don’t think I appreciate the way he talks to you.” 

“Oh I’m used to it by now.”

“So he talks to you like that all the time?” Shit. In truth, Jackson would never have spoken so harshly to you had he known anyone was in the room let alone Mr Holland, but that was his mistake. One you’re not sorry for. “Well, if he isn’t going to tell you what an amazing job you have done, I will. You should be proud of organising all of this by yourself, it’s not easy. Well done.” 

Your chest swells with pride as Mr Holland pats a gentle hand against your upper arm. Finally, your first taste of positive reinforcement. “Thank you, sir.” 

Mr Holland’s smirk quirks at the edges. His hands find themselves deep within his pockets once again as he coolly and oh-so-calmly exits through the doors. 

~~~~

You are insomnia personified. As relieved as you are that the night is going exactly to plan, with the nervous anticipation over, you just cannot wait to get to your bed knowing that the stress is over. You have hours of sleep to catch up on, a stone of weight to put back on and friends and family to respond to, and without a single alcoholic drink to lift your spirits, you’re finding it harder and harder to keep the exhaustion at bay. Beyond the exhaustion, however, there’s a sadness hidden deep within your conscience and while you glance over the decorations you hung up as the melodic singing of ‘happy birthday’ rings in the air, it spreads. It’s clear that people are oblivious to what makes you so downcast on a celebratory night as they pass nothing more than a glance your way, but in all honesty, you much prefer it to be that way. You wouldn’t want anyone to see the tear building in the corner of your eye. 

For now, you thrive on the compliments you’ve heard about the venue, the decorations, the drinks and the food, each and every one of them satisfying your perfectionist mindset. Okay, so what no-one knows you organised the party, and sure, you can oversee the fact that none of the compliments are directed to you in particular, because in the end, you’ve gained Mr Holland’s approval and that’s enough for you.

Well, it was enough until Taylor took to the stage for a speech.

“...and a special shout-out to Jackson for putting this all together for me. This is absolutely amazing, I couldn’t have asked for more.” 

Your heart sinks in your chest and your ears instinctively drown out the clapping and cheering of the crowd around you, eyes set in stone as they watch Jackson accept the dedication so graciously that it makes you sick to your stomach. It takes every ounce of energy you have left in you to suppress the wobble in your lip at the sight of Jackson soaking up the glory like a sponge. Jackson taking the credit for your hard work was something you should’ve expected from him. After all, he is lazy and will never be willing to admit it, definitely not in front of Taylor. Still, the chase for recognition was always going to be a losing battle for you; you’re an intern for fuck’s sake, you are merely just a name and a face for most, unfulfiling of the protagonistic arc the people here want in their stories. Jackson, the kiss ass, makes much more sense being the hero than an underdog intern. 

You close your eyes and take a deep breath, accepting defeat. 

You claim an empty seat at an empty table in a dark corner of the room, far from the crowd mingling on the dance floor and you remain there as the party continues into the night. The glass of tepid water looks pitiful in your hands, its lack of taste offering no respite from your sorrow. 

With fifteen minutes until last orders, you begin counting down to the moment you can retire to your bed which you know won’t arrive until after you’ve cleaned up the hall. You’re jealous of some of the guests who have already decided to leave the party.

The chair to your right suddenly scrapes across the floor and you’re slightly taken aback when Mr Holland sits close beside you and abruptly rests an elbow upon the table, blocking your view of the crowd and demanding your attention. A cedarwood scent silently announces itself and you inhale it deeply, finding sanctuary in its presence despite how startled you are by it. Your breath is simply taken from you when he shuffles himself closer. He isn’t wearing his usual attire; something a little less formal, but likely to be just as expensive. With that expensive taste comes his expensive appearance: clean, styled, decorated admirably and booming with authority. A warmth starts to take a hold of you. 

His movements are harsh and his body moves with brute intention, but behind those curls, his eyes hold sympathy, knowing what is upsetting you before it even spills from your lips. You try to fake a smile but he can see right through it. 

“I thought it was you that organised the party,” he calmly states. 

“I did. But because Jackson instructed me to plan a party means he takes responsibility for it.” 

Mr Holland doesn’t waste a single second. “It isn’t right. It’s one thing to speak to you so rudely, but it’s another to take credit for your hard work, and I’m starting to believe that Jackson doesn’t value you as an intern as much as he values the superiority that comes with it, am I right?” 

Anxiously, your eyes catch Jackson lazily hanging over the bar and demanding another drink. If Mr Holland were to know the truth, it would get Jackson in a lot of trouble and the people-pleaser inside you is screaming at you to just deny it all. Your skewed perception of professionalism means skipping over these things, something about snitching just seems so petty and childish, and that’s not the impression you want to give Mr Holland of all people.

Mr Holland’s stern voice brings you back. “You’re not answering to him now, you’re answering to me. Am. I. Right?” 

You gulp. “Yes, sir.” 

“I intend to have a word with Jackson--” 

“Mr Holland, it’s okay, really--” You try to protest but he quickly rests his hand on top of yours, his warmth enveloping it completely, and your mind halts. Your heart flutters the moment his fingers curl just the little bit tighter, a compassion that says more than words could. It’s genuine, caring, but firm in a way that’s supportive, pledging to do right by you. 

“He will apologise to you and let everyone know the truth.” 

“Please, I don’t want to cause a hassle or stir anything in the office, I just want to do well. And what would it change if people knew the truth? It doesn’t bother me that much, honestly. Besides, you know the truth. That’s all that matters to me.” Desperately and without thinking, you twist your hand and your fingers interlock, returning the squeeze with a soft smile. Mr Holland tries his best to return the sentiment but you can tell the whole ordeal still troubles him and sits discontented by your side, a regretful sigh heaving through his lips. Soon, after a silent plea to let it go, he eventually sits level with you with a brighter sparkle to his eyes and instantly, the mood is lifted. You notice how his hand doesn’t leave yours. 

“You at least deserve a drink.” 

“I shouldn’t, I’m closing up tonight and I’m working early tomorrow.” 

He scowls for what seems like the hundredth time tonight, facing issue after issue the more you expose Jackson’s true nature. “It’s Saturday tomorrow, you should be having a day off.” 

“It’s laughable you think I get a day off,” you chuckle. The sad thing is, he thinks you’re joking. Jackson often sends you his overdraft of reports to complete over the weekend and has the cheek to deem you lucky that he gives you so much wisdom and experience. You can’t imagine Mr Holland being aware of this…

“Don’t be silly darling, everyone is entitled to days off. Even Taylor took a day off today for his birthday.” 

Again, your scathing laughter meets his ears and he tilts his head, that skewed eyebrow lifting high into his forehead. “No offence sir, but with his position, he can afford to. I don’t think interns have that same benefit--”

“Of course you do, it’s company policy that everyone is entitled to a day off on their birthday.” Before you get a word in, he’s already pulling out his phone from his suit pocket. “Tell me when your birthday is so I can make sure you get it off, and I know when to get you a birthday present. Taylor too--”

“Oh, you don’t need to do that.”

“We do it for all our employees, regardless if you’re an intern or not.” His calendar flashes to life before his eyes. “So when is it? June? July?” 

Your mouth suddenly goes dry and it gawps like a fish, not a usual response to such an easy question. Your fingers knead together on your lap as the sadness once again materialises and Mr Holland quickly senses something is amiss.

“It’s…it’s today. My birthday is…was today.” 

Mr Holland’s eyes widen with horror. It’s no less than a minute later that he finally replies. “And Jackson has you working?” 

“Since 7am this morning. I had asked for my birthday off two months ago because I did actually read the company policies, but he said interns can’t request holidays because they’re not permanent. I didn’t think anything of it.” 

“What?! For fuck’s sake…” Mr Holland twists his chair violently, its legs colliding with the table as he tries to face you more directly and leans forward, your knees slotting into the space between his. The wave of his anger has rolled back even higher in its tide and now, unlike before, there’s a vein popping at his temple. “Let me just make this clear, okay? Correct me if I’m wrong. You’re telling me that Jackson has knowingly denied you of your birthday holiday entitlement and instead had you plan someone else’s birthday just so that he can take credit for it, make you work through it and clean up after it as well?”

God. In his words it sounds so desperately sad. Up until this point, you were able to distract yourself from getting caught up in the tragedy of it all, but now there’s nothing stopping the gates from opening and wallowing in self-pity. Although your blurring eyes tell of your true emotions, the forced smile on your lips does everything it can to convince both you and Mr Holland that you’re not bothered by it. “Yeah, I guess so.” 

Mr Holland’s heart inevitably sinks. In that moment, he thinks of the cruelty behind Jackson ordering you to buy and wrap his present for Taylor when you have none to open. He thinks of you, alone, buying the candles of the birthday cake you wouldn’t be blowing out. He thinks of you, just hours ago as the crowd sings happy birthday to another person, blissfully ignorant of your sorrow. He thinks of the hours you spent working when you should have been with your friends and family. It’s all of the things you truly deserve, but have been robbed from you. 

He reaches once again for your hand, now resting on your lap, and the tips of his fingers graze your thigh. You would be a fool to miss it. “Darling,” he sincerely murmurs, almost as quiet as a whisper. “I’m so sorry.” 

The fake smile takes lead and the rebel tear is wiped away. “It’s okay, it’s not your fault--”

“But it’s not okay. You…you didn’t even get to have a drink.” Damnit, your cheeks are wet again. “Did you at least get a break today?” Don’t cry in front of your CEO. Don’t cry in front of your CEO. Don’t cry in front of your CEO.

In fact, you spend so much time failing to not cry that Mr Holland assumes the worst. He takes in a long, deep breath and lures you into his embrace with a hand creeping up to the back of your head, and the second your forehead hits his shoulder, the dams break.  

“I’m just so tired,” you sniff. 

“You’ve been overworked, darling, that’s why.” His hand passes over your hair, gently cupping the curve of your head as he takes in every hiccup. His breath flows past your ears smoothly, broken up every few seconds with whispers of comfort. You feel horribly embarrassed, crying into the expensive suit of your CEO at the party you organised on your birthday: definitely not the definition of professionalism you are chasing. 

“I’m sorry. I promise I’m not usually like this.” You retreat from his shoulder but the hand cupping the back of your head prevents you from travelling too far and you’re stuck, just inches from Mr Holland’s pitying eyes. He keeps you concealed from the crowd, but it’s not enough to hide from the burning glare of Jackson, his eyes drawing daggers at you from over Mr Holland’s shoulder. He’s somewhat frozen in a stupor, scarily steady for a man who was flailing over the bar minutes ago, but anger is a quick cure for intoxication. 

Mr Holland’s voice sidles quietly into your ear. “You don’t need to explain yourself to me. Get yourself up to bed, I’ll deal with Jackson.” 

“But--”

“I will not take no for an answer. Now go.” You shiver at the stern tone, appearing only as he turns to lock eyes with Jackson who’s faring a guilty look upon his face. As Mr Holland brings you both to a stand, he gently encourages you towards the golden doors and although you should be indulging in the relief of finally being let off, you can’t pull your focus away from Mr Holland’s cold stare that refuses to stray from Jackson. In the few seconds that it takes to walk from your chair to the doors, a clear, obvious shift in mood transpires, one that is felt by the entire room because now it isn’t just you that notices Mr Holland’s sudden decline in temperament. Evidently, everyone is quick to sense the tension. The crowd’s lively dancing now settles into an awkward shuffle and the singing dulls into hushed whispers because they know to never underestimate the seriousness of Mr Holland’s anger. It’s uncomfortable and intimidating, even more so if you’re the reason for his vexation and if that’s the case, you should be on your knees begging for his forgiveness. It’s the one power Mr Holland holds that Taylor, his business partner, his equal, doesn't possess. This is your first time seeing him exercise this power and it’s incredibly daunting. 

The beat of your heels clicking their way up the staircase is a quick one, not daring to hang around the unease any longer. The fresh smell of washed cotton that greets you in your room winds you down and you don’t spare a second of reflection before you strip yourself of your stiff dress, blister-inducing heels, thick make-up and the heavy stress. You slip right between the sheets, ready to drift asleep. 

The lights are switched off, your eyes are closed and your body properly relaxes. Yet inexplicably you can’t settle into your bed no matter how much you toss and turn. Rationale convinces you that it’s because you’re in a bed different from your own, that the mattress doesn’t have the mould of your body imprinted on it, and although it’s a perfectly reasonable explanation, your inner conscience is telling you something else…

Flashes of memories made just half an hour prior spring to the surface and suddenly you’re watching yourself converse with Mr Holland again. But it isn’t exactly how you remember it.

For example, his hand is on your lap, gripping the curve of your thigh with his heat scorching through your skin when you know that, in reality, it was nothing more than a soft sweep. And when you both stood, you know he guided you with a gentlemanly hand, yet your dream sees his hand curving down the slope of your ass and squeezing the flesh. You have to refuse the idea of you shivering with arousal from hearing Mr Holland’s stern growl because truthfully, it was nerves. 

Or…was it both? 

You try to ignore it, but the seed has already been planted. Now all you can visualise is his fleeting touches, his soft voice praising you and calling you darling, the twinkle in his eyes as he sympathised for you, the caress of his hand through your hair as he comforted you, the way he cared for you, and fucking hell, the exhilaration of seeing him protect you so defensively when no one else did. His taut jaw, his clenched fists, his dark eyes, the pulsing vein at his temple, his eminence that commanded the room, the list is endless. 

“F-fuck,” you stutter, succumbing to the pleasure of your own fingers toying with your clit. You don’t quite remember the exact moment your hand slipped beneath your underwear, too caught up in your fantasy of Mr Holland to realise. Regardless, the movie in your mind continues to play out and by now, none of it reflects any real events from tonight - it’s all purely fictional.

His hand slides up between your thighs. He dons a devilish grin because he knows there’s a whole crowd blissfully unaware behind him. An innocent gasp slips from your lips and it lures his eyes to your mouth, panting as he traces the letters of his name over your covered cunt as a sign as to who it belongs to. Overrun with anticipation, you bite your lip, feeling the pad of his finger slip beneath your thong and…

“Oh my god! Shit!” Your body seizes, curling into itself as your fingers dull to a small twitch between your clenched thighs. There’s a blissful moment where you ravish the hot rush of blood pulsing at your pussy, letting it bubble until it slows to a simmer, and only when you come down from your high minutes later do you fully realise what has just happened. Eyes split wide open, you rise from your bed.

You just masturbated fantasising over your CEO. 

What in the hell have you gotten yourself into? 

~~~~

The morning comes surprisingly quickly and the hotel's thin curtains don't fully shield you from the sun's glare. It’s bright, directly in your face and if you didn’t know any better, you would think that it’s spotlighting you because it knows what you did last night. As if you forgot…

The guilt still ruins your conscience and you feel nothing but regret; fantasising and sexualising Mr Holland’s kindness is just the pinnacle of everything you disagree with and it doesn’t exactly define the sort of professionalism you strive for. 

Shaking it off as best you can, you refresh yourself with a shower and a harsh splash of cold water to your face, and by the time you open your laptop it’s 9am. There hasn’t been any emails from Jackson so far which you’re not too sure if you’re shocked by. It’s typical on a Saturday morning for Jackson to send you multiple reports with deliberately vague instructions that you would somehow have to decode and translate for yourself. But regarding last night’s events, perhaps he’s heeded Mr Holland’s words and decided to honour your weekend entitlements. 

The white screen stares back at you, watching you nervously bite your nails as if you’re expecting a red notification to pop up, attached to an email from Jackson with hungover words. A minute or two passes by and alas, nothing. Not a word. In all honesty, you don’t have an issue with it, not at all, but it means that your routine is completely disrupted and you’re struggling to decide what to do with yourself. And without work, you have nothing to distract you from last night’s sin while it plagues your mind. 

A new sweat arises and your cheeks flush with embarrassment. It shouldn’t have felt as good as it did, and that’s the part you think is the worst. Why did it feel so fucking good?

What brings you out of your self-loathing is three quick, quiet knocks echoing from your door in quick succession. Curious, you open the door and when you see who stands there in all his formal glory, you wish you hadn’t. Your heart immediately jumps to your mouth. 

“Oh, Mr Holland--hi. I wasn’t expecting you…” Your words fade into a soft whisper when your eyes spot a small pink bag, its ribbon handles hooked daintily onto his fingers. Surely that can’t be what you think it is…?

He’s painfully quiet, a small smile painting his lips at what he sees; he’s never seen you dress so casually before and he wants to take a good long look at you, unsure of when he’ll see such a sight again. The weight of his stare burns holes through you, heating you from within.

Not a second later, he holds out the pink bag towards you and you forget to breathe. 

“Happy belated birthday,” he gently voices. Your fingertips graze each other as you take it from him. For such a small, delicate bag, it’s certainly weighty and your stomach drops thinking about how much money he’s stupidly wasted on you…

“Thank you sir, really. You didn’t have to do that.” A nervous chuckle escapes your dry mouth. “How…how did you get this so quickly? It’s barely past 9 in the morning.”

“I have a few contacts who owe me a few favours. And I just felt so guilty about you missing your birthday. Sorry you couldn’t celebrate it like you should’ve.”

 “Like I said, it’s okay--” 

He shakes his head disapprovingly but surely, a taunting smirk begins to form. “Am I going to have to give you the same ‘talking to’ I gave Jackson last night to make you realise that it is definitely not okay?”

Yes, yes, yes, fucking yes. “No, no, of course not. Sorry, I suppose that’s just the people-pleaser in me.” 

Mr Holland stands stoic before you, his head slightly tilted and his hands clasped in front of him. His eyes are watching you endearingly, drawing you into him, but everything else about him oozes something that makes you want to swallow a little harder. His confidence in himself is mildly intimidating and you wish you could feel the same. Just his being here creates a dizzying effect on you that you just can’t shake. 

“You can think of this as a congratulations of sorts too.” 

You tilt your head. “Congratulations?” 

“Mh-hm,” his eyes flit over your confusion, a devilish, haunting smirk gracing his wet lips. “Congratulations on becoming a permanent member of Taylor and I’s company.” 

Mr Holland admiring you be damned, you find yourself taking a step back in shock. “Are you…are you serious?” 

“Of course I’m serious, do you think I would lie to you?” 

“Not at all, I just, I thought it was going to be Jackson’s decision. I am his intern.” 

You aren’t a fool to miss the way his jaw ticks at the mention of Jackson’s name and all too quickly, a ferocious fire consumes his eyes. A small shiver cuts through your skin. “You don’t work for Jackson anymore because Jackson no longer works for me.” 

“What?!” 

“What did you think when I said I was going to deal with Jackson? That he was going to continue working for me even after finding out he was treating you badly? Or finding out that he orders you to do his work over the weekends? Or even when he blackmails you into doing jobs beyond your remit? How could you possibly think that I would let that sleazy bastard feed off my pay when I know he isn’t capable of the job? You’re far more deserving of the position than he is, far more deserving of the appreciation and beyond capable.”

“Sir, I…I can’t thank you enough. I’m very grateful. I won’t let you down, I promise.” 

“I know you won’t. Although I do sometimes wish you would’ve told me or Taylor about Jackson’s behaviour sooner. I don’t tolerate that kind of exploitation, not even for a second and you shouldn’t have either.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I was just so caught up in wanting to do well that I would’ve done anything to please the company.”

“Maybe you should stop spending your time trying to please other people, and focus on pleasing yourself.” His face gravitates just a hairsbreadth towards yours and in quieter, darker words, he whispers… “You were certainly capable of pleasing yourself last night.” 

You take a timid step back, mouth agape. You can’t think of anything to say, not when the ringing in your ears starts to resonate louder and louder. Shame swells like a disease and you can feel the bile rising in your throat. You are almost certain you didn’t hear anyone outside your room last night, how could he have possibly known? 

“I…um…I don’t know what you’re talking about…”

He smoothly leans against the door frame, his wicked grin tells you that he doesn’t believe a word you say. Nevertheless, he explains, not to worsen how mortified he knows you already feel, but to reminisce of the surge of adrenaline and lust that coursed through him last night. 

“I came by late last night to drop off your present. I didn’t think you would still be awake so I planned on leaving it at your door, and just as I bent down to place it there, I heard just the softest of moans—“

“I think you must be mistaken—“ An uneasy chuckle barely covers your tracks, leaving you just as compromised as before. 

“I thought you might’ve been with someone, but I then didn’t hear any other voices, so I assumed you were by yourself.” 

“Sir,” you squeak, intending to finish your sentence but you just don’t have the words nor the confidence to deny him of what he already knows. You feel like a deer caught in the headlights, exposed and vulnerable without the faintest idea of how to get yourself out of his commanding presence. 

A million and one emotions rage through you and drown you in a fluster. Your feet shuffle nervously beneath you, slowly inching your way back into your hotel room as you sense yourself losing control over the conversation. With a mouth drier than the Sahara desert, there’s not much else you can do or say to avoid falling victim to both Mr Holland’s taunting and your own taunting; last night’s images playing out before you more vividly now that he resurrects them. 

The subject finally diverges, but it doesn’t mean you're any more comfortable with it. “Do you know you’re the only one that addresses me as ‘sir’?” 

You shake your head, eyes inevitably averted. You didn’t know that, you just thought it was professional. 

“You never corrected me.” 

“I didn’t want to.” 

“Why not?” 

“I liked hearing it. Just as much as I liked what I heard last night. But I need to know,” he takes a step to cross the threshold of your hotel room. “Was there anything…anyone in particular crossing your mind?” 

“There was…” His jaw ticks furiously and you instantly get the notion that denying him is simply not a choice here. 

“Who?” He demands in that stern voice you’ve heard only once before. 

One word sits on your tongue and you know that as soon as it breaks the silence, the professionalism you worked so hard to build up will crumble before you. But the risk is entirely worth it. 

“You.” 

Mr Holland’s lips part and releases a snicker as if he knew, and the curl of his smirk becomes dangerous. He lets the singular word ring out into the air, and the tension envelopes you both in a suffocating bubble until he finally speaks. “You…what?” 

“You, sir.” 

His chest rumbles with approval and you even feel its vibrations fluttering low in your stomach. Desire consumes you; a desire to know what he’s thinking, to know what he’s planning to do with that compromising information, to figure out whether he’ll respond to it in a way that satiates your more promiscuous desires like the ones that distracted you last night. You would give anything to see what’s going on inside his head. 

Inexplicably, he nods towards your pink bag, easily brushing over your last conversation like it was nothing to him and it completely throws you off. “You should open it.” 

It takes a second to drag your eyes away from him. You actually forgot you’re still holding it in your hands. The tissue paper rustles loudly as you reach in-- “Inside.” Mr Holland urges. With a short nod, you lead the way, allowing him to slowly close the door behind you with a gut-wrenching squeak and a thunderous boom.

The second the door shuts, the air becomes taut, strained and harder to breathe and you dedicate all your efforts into ignoring your last conversation just as easily as he had, but he’s standing right behind you and the warmth of his breath skates past your ear and it’s all you can think about. Even without disclosing what he now knows, the presence of Mr Holland alone would bring about such unnerving effects, so you don’t find yourself at fault for struggling to keep it together. 

From the pink bag you pull out a small white and gold box, wrapped with yet another ribbon. Inside is a silver chain, light and dainty, but the pendant it carries is nothing alike. The reflection of the sun hits the circular-cut diamond, becoming iridescent as it hits your eyes. The stone is slightly on the larger side, bigger than any other necklace you own, but it sits perfectly in the balance of being flashy yet classy. Expensive yet tasteful. It’s a piece that you can’t price and that exact thought scares you. 

“It’s beautiful,” you softly murmur. The chain cascades elegantly across your fingers, almost mesmerising to watch. 

Your eyes catch his movement in the mirror in front of you and steals your attention away from the necklace. He holds out his hand by your side, soft but firm. 

“May I?” You almost flinch as his words hit your ear, the ripple of your shiver continues for long after. As the chain pools in his hand, he is equally gentle, handling it with expertise while he lifts it carefully over head and rests the pendant tenderly in the dip between your clavicles. Its icy cold touch seers your skin, heat radiating with each grazing touch of his fingers as they clasp the chain together behind your neck. Once secure, you admire the way it shines brightly against your skin tone, eyes momentarily lost in your image until you realise that yours are the only pair looking back at you. Mr Holland remains engrossed with the curve of your neck, his proximity close enough to be counting the beats of your pulse as it thumps beneath your skin and for all you know, it’s elevating, thrashing harder and harder while you watch with wide eyes as Mr Holland presses his lips against it. 

The second his lips meet your skin, his hands find your hips, holding you steady to prevent you from buckling. A numbing tingle shoots through your nervous system at the feeling of Mr Holland swiping his tongue across the reddening bruise he’s leaving behind. Every kiss is with purpose, targeting each and every sweet spot as if he had a map to each of their location: the peak of your neck that connects to your jaw, the sensitive spot just millimetres below your ear, the slight curve of your shoulder that sits beneath the chain. He instantly claims you, and you show no sign of resistance when you find yourself voluntarily tilting your neck, begging for more.

You finally meet his eyes in the mirror, realising how cavernous his blown-out pupils are; that if you search too far you’ll become trapped. “This…” he whispers, planting another kiss to your ear, his hands beckoning to the chain, “is the only thing I’ll allow you to wear while I fuck you.” 

A shameless, breathless mewl whines from your throat and a rampage of endorphins consumes you. As the first piece of insight to his mind, you don’t get nearly enough time to let it process in your head before his clawing hands are tugging at the drawstrings of your joggers. 

The small nip to your neck is a wake-up call. This is real and this isn’t a fantasy of yours, only that it will be a recreation of what had you orgasming last night. 

“You know, I can be a people pleaser too.” His hand slips beneath your joggers, but refrains from slipping beneath your underwear. “I can please you in so many ways.” As a testimony to his words, his fingers trace over the silk of your underwear, catching your bud in its travels and a silent gasp bursts from your lips. “But not without earning it. Do as you’re told, and I’ll do exactly that.” 

Your head falls back onto his shoulder, words vacant, eyes rolling. 

“Are you listening to me?” The hand on your hip squeezes harshly and you jerk in his arms. You have never agreed to something quicker in your life.

“Yes, sir! Oh—” 

“Good. Then you can start by closing those curtains over there.” 

His hand slips fluidly out of your joggers when you force yourself away from the subtle torment. The light dims a little, however you think it’s more for privacy than for light. When your back turns once again, Mr Holland sits himself on the edge of the bed, legs spread and leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees. Whatever it is about him in that single second triggers something in you; attraction, lust, sex appeal, or all of the above. Whatever it is, it compels you to give yourself in to him.

A messy mixture of want, need and unrelenting desire brings you to your knees before him. His eyes sweep over your face, examining, analysing, translating every desperate twitch. He can even see your lips parting where he spots the remnants of teeth marks from when you had nervously bitten them in hidden moments. Smoothly, the pad of his thumb brushes over your lip, tugging it into a pout because that’s what he wants to see; you, desperate, pouting, begging for him. It soon pops back into place, his hand now curling around your chin and pulling you closer. His own lips are nothing more than a breath away from yours and you think he’s going to finally kiss you, but annoyingly, he only allows you to feel the shape of the words as he whispers them to you. 

“So what is it about me then, hm? What do I do that turns you on?” 

“It’s…it’s stupid.” 

He lets out an exasperated sigh. “Let me rephrase.” The grip on your chin tightens and your noses collide. “Tell me what it is about me that turns you on.” 

“Last night at the party, you were the only one that…cared. You made me feel like I wasn’t invisible.” 

“What else?” 

“You stood up to Jackson for me - you just looked so determined like you were unstoppable.” 

He tilts his head in the other direction now, leaning in just as close, your breaths mingling together. You’re so desperate to feel his lips on yours. “And?” 

“When…when you touched my thigh--”

“You were burning.”

“I was nervous--” 

“Because of me.” 

“Of course because of you. I was scared of disappointing you.” 

A small snicker escapes him and leaves behind a wicked smirk. Two hands now firmly cradle your jawline and you think the moment has finally come. Why else would your heart be thumping in your chest? 

“Not possible. I always knew you were a good girl. And I think you like being told that, don’t you? You like being recognised to the point where you need to be reassured of it. I saw that coy little look on your face the first time I told you how impressed I was. It was obvious that no one else had praised you like I did - you couldn’t keep yourself together. And I bet if I kept telling you how fucking sweet you are, and how much of an perfect angel I know you are for me, the second I slip my fingers into your tight little pussy, you’d be an absolute mess.” 

Well, he’s not wrong. You’re already soaked. 

“Please, sir,” you whimper. “Please just kiss me.” 

Finally, finally, he pulls you in for a long, languid kiss, his tongue takes lead to taste every part of your bitten lips as they slot perfectly in between his, lingering longer with each time he captures them. The blood rushes so quickly through your veins you think you might implode, overwhelmed by just how good it feels that your hands suddenly grapple onto the cuffs of his shirt. 

A satisfied hum buzzes against your lips, twisting your own into a small grin that unbeknown to you, Mr Holland could actually feel. 

“Let me see you,” he demands, his hands plucking at the hem of your sweatshirt. When you don’t do it right away, a tight grip coils around your neck and stops the gasp leaving your mouth. “Do. As. You’re. Told.” 

You’re baring your all for him (all except a diamond necklace) in a matter of seconds, standing before him as he leisurely leans back against the bed, resting on his elbows. Those predatory eyes roam your body, mapping out the shape and details, and imprinting them to memory. 

“So fucking pretty…” He deliberately watches for your reaction and you crumble under the praise resulting in a mirthful laughter to shake his chest. His arms reach for your waist, luring you in with the tight grab of your hips until his lips sit just below your ribs. The heat from his breath hitting your skin makes you involuntarily wriggle, but he doesn’t allow for any movement from you, not unless he permits it. You feel his lips suddenly, trailing across your ribs and up your chest. “Do you know what good girls like you do for me?”

“What?” You breathlessly murmur.

“They get on their knees,” Mr Holland pauses to let you act on it. Now you’re looking up at him as his knuckle ghosts over your cheeks and he mingles closer. “They look at me right in the eyes and they beg me to give them a taste, to let them suck me off because they’ll do anything for a reward, even if it is just a few words of praise. So let’s hear you, pretty girl. I want to hear you beg me with that sweet, innocent voice of yours.” 

You take a cautious breath. “I want to taste you so badly, sir. Please. Will you let me?” 

“Hmm.” He purses his lips. Shit. It isn’t good enough for him and he spots the panic in your eyes. All of a sudden, you begin pleading in such a desperate, childish tone you didn’t know you were capable of. Even your lip begins pouting as the need to please him becomes so overwhelming that, unexpectedly, your eyes water, like you’re facing life or death. And he is the decider. 

“Wait, wait, no, please, I want to make you feel so good, so, so, so good. I can do it, I promise, and I can be good for you if you let me. Please sir, I really need it. I’ll do anything.” 

Mr Holland smiles and gently kisses you with approval, just the shortest of pecks of reassurance before he leans back and nods towards the zipper of his suit trousers, tented with the erection that’s pleading to be satisfied. You waste no time in unbuttoning, unzipping and pulling free his hard cock that almost dwarfs your hand and you stare at him with such bewilderment, a stare that is returned by a certain smugness, a confidence that has you licking your lips. 

There’s a surge of instinct coursing through you and your brain convinces you that there’s nothing else you should be doing, that your whole purpose at this very moment is to do as you promise; to please him, to make him feel good, so when you hear his moans the second you wrap your lips around him, your heart flutters with fulfilment. It’s a sensation you keep chasing, growing stronger the longer you bob your head up and down his cock, every time his praise seeps from his lips, and you just about lose it when his fingers comb through your hair. You offer every trick in the book; swirling around your tongue around the head of his cock, sweeping it across the small slit to collect the small bead of cum, teasing him before taking him down your throat and gagging on him. Not too little, not too much. Consistency is key. 

You’re not sure how much of an idea he has about just how dedicated you are in your mission to prove yourself to him, that you’re desperate to show how capable you are by what you’re willing to do; perhaps a horrible side-effect of having to constantly prove yourself to Jackson with each conversation, but with Mr Holland, there’s an element of belief and confidence: a contradiction between Jackson’s ‘I don’t believe you until you prove it’ versus Mr Holland’s ‘do it because I know you can’. 

Mr Holland’s head falls back, his eyes closed, and falls into an eerie silence. If it wasn’t for his hand still combing through your roots, you would’ve thought he wasn’t satisfied with you. Still, you keep going, running your lips and tongue down his shaft and returning slowly back up again where you get a teaser of the bitter-sweet taste you’re vying for. He doesn’t say anything for a while and you’re undecided of whether you’re doing so well that he’s speechless, or you’re not doing enough that’s worthy of his praise. It’s hard to tell with his head tilted back, and you begin to lose faith. You’ve become so drawn into his voice and words that you feel lost without them.

‘You like being recognised to the point where you need to be reassured of it.’

“Sir,” you meekly voice, leaving a beat to suck on the head of his cock. “Am I making you feel good?” 

The depth of his growl sends a spike of arousal straight to your clit. He spits out his words in a manner that’s uncontrollable. “Fucking incredible.”

His head finally lifts and his eyes pin on you, fully blown and dilated. “Look at you - oh fuck - taking me so well. Knew you’d be a good girl but f-fuck, I don’t know if I can hold it in any longer.” 

You reply with a wanton mewl, your dopey, tear-stained eyes saying the words your mouth can’t. You need to do something that would push him over the edge, do something that would completely shatter his world, never to be forgotten. He’s already so close, and you're already dripping onto the carpet, and with one last final trick up your sleeve, you catch his eyes, sink yourself onto him until your nose bashes against skin, and fight through the gag. Teeth baring, you slowly, lightly, graze your teeth up his cock, ghosting over every vein that pulses, leaving behind the soothing aftercare of your soft lips. By your side, his thighs twitch and by the time you reach the head of his cock, an explosion happens. 

Mr Holland swings forward, grappling onto your head as you drink down everything he gives you. His entire body tenses, trapping you into a headlock and just only for a couple of seconds do you feel yourself losing breath. It's slightly tense and panic-inducing but it doesn’t matter, because above you he’s panting heavily, enclosing his thighs around your head and holding onto you for dear life. It’s all the signs you need to know that you’ve done what you promised, you have proved yourself. 

“Fucking hell,” Mr Holland pants. His grip loosens around you and your lips release him with a pop. The instant your lips are free, he claims them, humming into them with adoration. “That was…” A soft, tender kiss. “The best goddamn…” Then another. “Blow job I’ve ever had.” He kisses you for a final time with a smile laced through it, and rests his forehead on yours to give himself some time to catch his breath. “So good…” he breathes. “So, so, so good. Sweet angel. My sweet angel.”

There isn’t anything to describe the burst of achievement that swarms your chest when you hear those words and your cheeks inevitably heat under his hands. You’re smiling, obviously smiling and no matter how hard you bite your lips to hide it, the pull is too strong. You make yourself far too goddamn easy to read so when Mr Holland catches a glimpse of your reaction, he smirks, clearly amused, and simultaneously reaches down the length of your body until his hand finds sanctum between your thighs. 

“Hmm, you’re soaked, darling. Don’t you think we should do something about it? After all, you’re earned your reward, and I’m dying for a taste of that messy, little pussy of yours.” 

You release a shaky breath when his fingers start exploring. “Yes, oh god, yes.” 

“Yes…what?” 

“Yes, sir!” 

“Better. Let’s not make that mistake again.” 

“No, sir.” 

“Good. Now--”  In a vice-like grip, Mr Holland encircles your waist and your body burns against the rough cashmere of his suit. It’s surprisingly stimulating as he casually hauls you off your feet, but you would much rather the heat of his skin. Nevertheless, your back soon meets the soft cotton of your sheets as he lays you to rest on the bed, remaining shadowing above you basking in the sight of your naked, wanting body. The diamond that nestles deep into the base of your throat twinkles obnoxiously in his eyes and he almost grows jealous of the way it hugs your neck. However, it's a jealousy he can overlook as his eyes wander over the peak of your breasts and your glistening cunt, because he knows that they are all for him. 

Mr Holland promptly sinks to his knees, placing his head in between your thighs, his eyes never straying from your cunt. There isn’t a moment of hesitation when he swings his arms to cross over your hips, dragging your legs effortlessly over his shoulders and diving, tongue first, into your cunt. It’s a complete invasion of his touch, his tongue immediately swirling around your clit with a careful, consistent pressure that deep down, you know will end you in minutes. The gasp is telling of your struggle to keep composed, gradually crescendoing into a moan as that amorous tongue descends down your slit, licking you up in long, fat strips. An urge in your hips begs for attention, wanting to raise higher to ease the tension building deep in your stomach, but you're trapped, locked in place with no routes of escape and you have to tell yourself that you just have to tough it out. 

But it’s harder said than done when he begins slotting his tongue into your hole, tasting and caressing every inch of you he’s capable of reaching. Digging deeper and deeper, his mouth consumes the entirety of your cunt, humming into it to push you further over the edge. He knows you’re hanging on by a thread, but it doesn’t mean he’s willing to slow down. And just then, an evil, malicious thought spawns in his mind which he voices immediately. 

“You’re not cumming until I say so. Understood?” 

The feeling of you clenching to stop the impending orgasm has him chuckling. He knew you were close. 

“Such a sweet, little angel. So obedient too, right?” He blows a gentle breeze onto your clit and you simply whimper in response. “Right?”

“Y-yes, sir.” 

Satisfied, Mr Holland has your cunt in his mouth again, salivating over its taste as he suckles on your clit, your folds, your skin, anything to lure out what he knows he’s going to get eventually, but it makes it twice as appetising when he knows your orgasm is only at his command. 

Meanwhile, your heart stammers in your chest with each tug of his lips. Whatever sanity you have left to cling onto, you claw at it with desperate hands, fighting to hold up the wall that blocks the blood rushing to your cunt, holding your breath to stop the bubble from bursting, because fuck, you are ready to snap. You can’t help but notice how he’s taken a page from your book, pleasuring you at a steady consistent pace, not too much but not too little. Unsurprisingly, the result is the same but the conditions are far worse.

“Oh my god, please let me cum, I can’t hold it anymore.” 

His grip only tightens, his tongue moves faster and his mouth gets hotter. 

Your hands, of a mind of their own, decide to condemn your obedience and push at his arms around your hips in an attempt to get away. Despite his obvious strength, you somehow manage to get a microsecond of respite, but his mouth only sucks you back in again, murmuring only one word that runs laps around your head.

“Obedience.” 

“I can’t, sir, please, I can’t h-hold on. Fuck!” 

“Oh dear.” 

“NO! No, no, no, no, okay, okay, I’ll do it, I can hold on. Just…please go slower.” 

His dark cavernous eyes meet yours from behind his arms, unmoving even as he relishes the taste of your slick, challenging you for only a second before he thankfully listens to your wishes. Weakened, your head flops back onto the bed with a small bounce, eyes drifting shut as the feeling in your stomach calms and a small relief hugs your heart. It’s a small price to pay to lose the feeling of euphoria that was going to course through you…only if Mr Holland had let it or if your people-pleasing traits had failed you, none of which had actually happened. 

The feeling deflates but the pleasure still lingers.

“You taste so delicious, darling. I could eat you all day.” Arousal jumps to your clit like a flash of electricity. “And you’re doing so well for me, how could I ever stop?” This time, it’s his tongue, soft and caressing. “And this pussy; so pretty, so fucking pretty, I could just play with it for days.” His finger begins circling your clit not too long after he spits into it. By now, you realise what he’s doing. He’s feeding into your need for praise that, along with the small touches and sweeping licks, builds you up just as quickly and suddenly as before, and once again you’re struggling to cope. “I know you can be such a good girl for me, I know you can do as I say, and you have no idea how much it turns me on when you do.” 

“Sir…” You warn. He instantly recognises the desperation. 

“I’ve got one last instruction for you, angel.” He sucks on your clit for just a couple of seconds, just to get you closer and closer to falling apart. “Cum for me. Cum in my mouth.” 

“Fuck!” You scream as an endless stream of euphoria consumes you, hitting you in a sudden white wash of heat that riddles your entire body top to toe. You can feel your cunt clenching erratically, between homing an orgasm and suffering under Mr Holland's continuous lashings, it can't, not for one second, rest until either relent. You feel your own slick, hot and bothered, trickling down your ass but before it gets the chance to meet with the white sheets beneath you, Mr Holland sweeps it up expertly with his tongue, partnered with a primal growl of pleasure.

By the time Mr Holland has finished cleaning up every inch of your cunt and ass with his tongue, he proceeds to kiss his way gently up your body, not forgetting to leave your tits untouched and pinches your buds between his lips. You have just enough energy to cradle his head, allowing yourself the pleasure to run your fingers through his hair, moving with him while he leaves sharp kisses to your chest, your collar bone, your neck, ear and jaw, until once again, those hungry lips claim yours.

Still somewhat recovering, you purr quietly, content with the overall sense of pleasure, both of your sexual and people-pleasing needs.

Your lips slowly part. The kiss ceases but your noses brush off one another gently, still basking in the blissful, intimate aftermath of what's just happened. Your CEO above you remains, hovering over you with admiration in his eyes, running over your features as if it is the first time he's seeing them, adoring them all over again.

There's two words sitting on the tip of his tongue, hidden behind a smirk because he knows what he'll see when he speaks them.

"You're beautiful."

Of course, his prediction comes true. Your cheeks redden, your eyes roll away and your teeth sink into your swollen lips, muttering incoherently about it not being true but thanks him incessantly, but Mr Holland is too caught up in your coy modesty to rebuttal. It's just like the first time he complimented you, and he realises then and there that he's addicted to being the person that makes you shy, blushed, diffident.

Being a CEO, he does indeed posses significant power in the palm of his hand, obtained by hard work, dedication, commitment and sacrifice, but for him, there isn't a power stronger than the one he has over you and all it takes is a few, simple, praising words.

"We still have another three hours until check out."

Your eyes and ears perk up. "Sir?"

Cautiously, he shuffles above you, innocent until you feel his cock sliding into you and he relishes the catch in the back of your throat at the sudden pressure forcing its way fluidly into you. You're simply speechless, questioning if it'll ever end as he pushes every inch of him inside you, breaching and stretching the boundaries of your walls. Mr Holland snags your bottom lip between his teeth, harshly biting as a relief for the tight grip that surrounds his cock.

When your ass eventually meet his hips, you both release a groan in unison, breaths mixing and mingling until Mr Holland breaks the silence.

"You're gonna look even more beautiful when you're all fucked out and dumb for my cock, all with a diamond wrapped round your neck."

His hips snap back at a frighteningly fast pace and thrusts in even more aggressively. The pain is immeasurably exhilarating. Your thighs squeeze his waist, mouth agape without a single breath escaping.

"Think of this as a second birthday gift." Like before, he draws back and slams into you without mercy. "Do as you're told and you'll get your third on Monday in my office."

Somehow, your gut tells you that you won't have a problem with that. Not at all.

#dom!tom holland #ceo!tom holland #soft!dom!tom holland #sub!reader #tom holland smut #tom holland #tom holland fic #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #smut #angst #peter parker smut #one shot #peter parker #tom holland one shot #tom holland fanfic #praise you like i should

[syl-stormblessed]

Tom Wambsgans works for the TVA now btw if you even care

#i bet he had a nervous breakdown after 6 months of being waystar ceo and quit #vin speaks #deadpool #deadpool and wolverine #tom wambsgans #matthew macfadyen #succession #marvel #mcu #deadpool 3

[lovelykhaleesiii]

CEO!Aegon having you sit under his desk and suck his cawk

Ughhh I’m in such a hot mood for Aeg right now, so the fact I went straight here doesn’t help HAHAHA

hope you enjoy this Bel, this had me in a chokehold xoxox 💕💕💕

Hardly Workin'

PAIRING: Chubby!CEO!Aegon ii Targaryen x fem!Reader [Modern AU]

WORDS: 1,818.

WARNINGS: mentions of an office romance/affair, male oral receiving, exhibition kink (?), slight reference to fatphobic comments, reference to p in v sexual intercourse, swearing.

A/N - I'm so sorry I made him chubby, but also not really because we all know that man would add a few pounds with a desk job and I couldn't help myself. ps I powered thru this because I just couldn't help myself. CHOKEHOLD.

To have a high-ranking employer that was devilishly handsome and blatantly licentious, was all in all, a dangerous game. Aegon Targaryen, with well awareness, knew the authority and the power he had over his meek, replaceable employees, could be used effortlessly to his advantage. In particular, when it related to work and sex.

Many of the women in the workplace, had whisper giddily amongst themselves of his overpowering demeanour, the way he'd often use his position to sate his own lusts, teasing, sneaking a grope, copping a feel, and yet, earning the full attention of the ladies, nonetheless.

Not to mention, Aegon had quite the larger figure... It seemed the sedentary lifestyle of the corporate world, along with the stress-eating, constant dining out to meet with clients, the late night take-out you'd order for him as he worked late hours into the night, and endless parties and drinking, all came at cost. This did not stop Aegon from claiming what was his. Even using his physique to his fullest advantage, finding himself "accidentally" pressing his swollen frame against your body in tight spaces, especially in the elevator. Feeling your tits press against his fat, rotund chest, always left a sly smirk across his face. Sated with himself, as he often found himself after gorging in a full take-out meal.

You'd heard numerous of times, many of the encounters a few of the "lucky" women had with Aegon: from little rendezvous' and scheduled dates, only to end with them lost, hopeful craving for more corporate cock, only to be met with a dead end.

Aegon did not pursue most, however his situation with you was... Different. You were the only one he found himself helplessly crawling back to, eager for more of your attention and tight cunt. You commenced as his personal receptionist/assistant less than a year ago, for the previous one left for unknown reasons.

The job was stressful and kept you busy, although the paperwork itself was a breeze, in comparison to having to resist Aegon himself when you had initially started. He was handsome nonetheless, his unique features that ran strongly in the Targaryen family, most of his siblings, cousins and father you would see from time to time. They looked completely ethereal in comparison to the rest of you mortals, with their lilac/violet orbs, and silver-blonde hair to contrast one another.

You did put up somewhat of a fight, in comparison to most of the other women, always making Aegon gorge more and in quite an aggressive manner, taking his anger out on other lower ranked employees, the more his frustration brew because of your firm resistance to his urges.

"Made me crave for you even more, but you drove me wild, Y/N," Aegon would openly admit, as his pudgy hands squeezed and dug at your bare ass cheeks, beneath your black midi skirt.

Regardless, once you had finally caved [in much to Aegon's relief], the relationship was layered beneath the disguise of a secret affair [not that Aegon was seeing or exclusive with anyone else, it would mean that he would need to fire you, as it was against strict corporate policy]. Aemond, his younger, much slimmer brother, was head of Human Resources, and if he caught a whiff of his older brother's shenanigans, he would not take it lightly. Aemond often found any excuse to humiliate Aegon publicly, especially if the family were there to witness. Any minor screw up, he would sniff it out like some bloodhound, and yet, with your brightly avid mind, you always ensured Aegon and yourself were a few steps ahead. Not to say you did not have a few close calls, Aegon's arousal often made him unpredictable, and this instance was no different...

"Such a good fucking girl. My very own obedient, little whore, aren't you, huh?" Aegon breathlessly mustered, leaning back on his grand, swivel chair as he bucked his plump hips forward.

Your mouth too full of his rigid, wet cock, the only response Aegon earned was helpless, feeble gags and moans from your gaping mouth.

"Th-That's it. Doing s-so, so well, taking my fat fucking cock like that, with that pretty, l-little mouth of yours-Ugh-" Aegon gutturally uttered, his breathing audible enough from above. Seated beneath him underneath his spacious desk, between his thick, sturdy thighs, squeezing your smaller frame between his legs.

"Mhmm, fuck baby-"

Your moist, stretched lips persisted with struggle trying to maintain his wide cock inside: your head slowly motioning back and forth, in a steady pace, as Aegon's hot seed oozed inside, coating your throat completely.

Without a moment to spare in intense, bliss silence, Aegon's desktop phone rang, followed by the familiar beep of the voicemail.

"Sir, your brother Aemond, has just arrived at the reception, and wishes to see you immediately, he's heading up right now- BEEP."

"Fuck!" Aegon seethed, as he lunged his mighty frame forwards in a haste and without warning, his cock buried itself deeper, harshly hitting the back of your throat with vigour, causing you to instinctively gag loudly.

"Sorry, m'sweetheart- That twat of a brother of mine is coming, gotta clean up now-"

As Aegon handed you his unspoiled, white handkerchief, you wiped off his fresh, rich residue off the corner of your mouth, as Aegon hastily buttoned up his pants. His stomach sated yet hardened and distended from a big lunch, he struggled to do the final button atop: from the looks of it, you gathered that his leather belt would not buckle, alternatively urging Aegon to remain seated behind the desk to hide the disheveled look, before his rage took over.

Just as you made the final attempts to help tidy his shirt, the sudden opening of the front door caught Aegon off guard. Instinctively, the feeling of his pudgy palm shoved your head aggressively back beneath the desk, as he shushed you before resuming his attention back towards the entrance to his office.

"Brother-"

"Aegon-"

"Pleasure to see you, as always-" Aemond teasingly insisted, as he comfortably sat himself down on the lounge, hearing the dull knock of his feet sprawled upon the wooden desk. You'd witnessed on many occasions, Aemond's egotistical presence, acting as though he'd owned the room upon which he had entered, scoffing that it was his cringe attempt of a "power move".

"The pleasure is mine. What brings you here so suddenly? Not even a call would suffice?"

"I like to make surprises, besides a call would be useless... That pretty, dumb receptionist of yours is nowhere to be found out there."

Aemond's targeted, back-handed comment infuriated you, though not to the extent to which it seemed Aegon was beginning to rile up. His fists clenched into a ball, his knuckles whitening, as Aemond's low chuckle echoed across the silent room.

"I'm only kidding, dear brother. She seems like a real sweetheart... And that figure, Gods did they take their time with her... You must really be enjoying work now, I bet... I know I fucking would."

Aegon instinctively slapped his heavy palm against his sprawled thigh, sighing in frustration, as he urged Aemond to speak.

"What exactly are you here for, Aemond? You do realise you're wasting company time...I don't think father would approve of that very much."

The tense silence had befallen the room once more, as Aemond exhaled defeatedly, before resuming the serious talk. His feet now flat on the floor, he instantly dropped what you presumed to be a dense folder atop Aegon's neat desk.

Aegon leaning forward, as his portly upper body leaned forward against the desk, the opportunity immediately presented himself, quite literally to your face.

His rotund stomach pushed through naturally, forcing his zipper to undo itself, as his stiff cock was practically begging to get out of its restraint. All it needed was a little assistance. Your lips curved cheekily into a giddy smile, your cheeks flushing scarlet. You knew Aegon would advise against this, although a carnal urge to finish what you'd started, desperate to ease Aegon's mind with his brother's tense presence.

Your tender hands moved towards, tugging at Aegon's tight pants just a tiny bit lower, as his stiff, girthy cock plunged forward. The sight excited you like it had the first time, and you felt Aegon's eyes hovering above with dreading suspense. One pudgy hand found its way down to his cock, poorly attempting to act as a barricade, yet you swiftly swat it away, before teasingly biting at his plump fingers. You mindlessly let out a little snicker, which thankfully for Aegon's quick instincts, was muffled with a sudden eruption of a cough.

"Uh- You okay there?" Aemond suspiciously enquired, as his unimpressed gaze pondered over his elder.

"Y-Yes, carry on-"

Your lips eagerly resumed once more, picking up the familiar pace it once ensued, as you coated and lapped at his thick cock. Your dizzy head bobbing up and down, side to side in a sensual motion, your keen tongue slurping at his hot seed pooling from the throbbing tip.

"M-Mhmm-" Aegon hummed, his breathing once more growing denser, as he evidently began to struggle maintaining normalcy.

"Aeg- Do you understand? We need these deadlines to be sorted ASAP. The team needs to reach the target budget or else we suffer a huge loss to our competitors... Those fucking Baratheons-"

"Y-Yep, gotcha. I-Is that all?" Aegon thickly heaved, taking a grand breath in, holding it for a split second to recoup his sense to persevere.

"You sure you're okay? You look a little tense... Did you eat too much again? You do know the food doesn't run away once its cooked, right, hog?"

"Fuck off, dickhead. Close the door on your way out-"

With much anticipation of Aemond's exit, the shutting of the door and your mouthful wonders, Aegon's warm, thickly coated seed shot rapidly down your throat, swallowing his bliss.

Aegon loudly gasped for air, as he slowly regained his senses, pulling himself out. The handkerchief he initially gave, still remained on your lap, reusing it to clean up his enamored mess.

"God, you needy, impatient little thing. You couldn't wait till he left, huh? So desperate for this fat fucking cock, you just couldn't help yourself to seconds, hm?"

"You have a conference meeting in 30 minutes, Aeg... I was simply just being time efficient," You innocently jested, as you comfortably sat yourself down on Aegon's wide, tubby thighs, his plush, meaty stomach pressed against your frame, almost trying to push you off. His pudgy hips pooled at his sides, as you poked at the dense adipose tissue beneath, yearning a sudden yelp from Aegon.

"30 minutes you say? That's plenty of time-"

"Plenty of time for what?"

"To fuck you stupid on this desk till your practically too useless to work for the rest of the evening...Does an early mark sound good, Princess?"

general taglist - @evenstaris @bel-bottoms @fan-goddess @malfoytargaryen @ilikeitbetterangsty @bibli0thecary @m1ndbrand @connorsui @elegantsplendour @randomdragonfires @sylas-the-grim @arcielee @s-we-e-t-t-ea @sahvlren @aemondtargaryensrider

Aegon ii taglist - @who-told-you-this-was-butter @f4ll-for-you @amiraisgoingthruit

credit for header - @/saradika 🤍

#aegon ii targaryen #tom glynn carney #TGC #aegon ii targaryen imagine #aegon ii targaryen imagines #aegon ii targaryen fanfic #aegon ii targaryen fanfiction #aegon ii targaryen smut #aegon ii targaryen fluff #chubby!Aegon ii #modern!chubby!Aegon ii #CEO!chubby!Aegon ii #aegon ii x fem!reader #aegon ii x y/n #hotd #house of the dragon #hotd fanfic #hotd imagines #hotd imagine

[ifortom]

Champagne Problems - T.H.

Tom and y/n, a couple that used to be inseparable, now face a deep crisis in their marriage. Their daughter, Olivie, 4, is in the middle of this emotional turmoil. With busy lives, differences of opinion and fragmented communication, the love that brought them together is slowly fading. After the aftermath they must face their own demons, rediscover empathy, and find a way to rebuild the relationship they once shared. Not just for themselves, but also for the well-being of their daughter, who longs for a united family.

SOON!!

#tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland angst #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #dad!tom holland #mom!reader #tom holland #ceo!tom

[successionable]

new official stills from S04E10....... the tom of it all

#succession #succession spoilers #succession s4 #tom wambsgans #lukas matsson #greg hirsch #shiv roy #that's my US CEO #big. big shoes #failmarriage </3 #tomgreg #tomshiv #succpost

[kettleghost]

more succession warrior cats breh idk

#many thoughts about this au #started as a joke but like I Am Thinking #idk how connors presidential candidate plotline would translate #because clan leader is ceo #so #idk #BTW haven’t made a design for her yet but #caroline would be a kittypet- former warrior #lives in a big human mansion #pierce would probably be a seperate clan or something #both tom and greg are also former kittypets #ewan was a warrior who quit and became a loner i think #idk bro #anyway #my art #succession #warrior cats #warriors #kendall roy #shiv roy #roman roy #rava roy #gerri kellman

[siremasterlawrence]

The Detoxification Of Bros

Friendship is boundless even though you are sharing a building, a company and the wind fall of finances because they are CO-CEOS of Bro Codes.Thomas Alex is the one who hired me when the company Bro Codes was established is about to fire me for not meeting his goals and that is simply never going to happen.

He closes the door, taking my hand in him as I smirk an and shake his hand tightly with a smile to his annoyance and curiosity but before he could react.I turn to two side I press the side of both of my cheeks causing my eyes to spiral out of control and activating my contacts as they glow red.

Tom catches my eyes he gets scared start to back up as I follow him carefully to his ass and then his back hit the desk behind him. His fear is heightened at the sight of my red eyes meeting his, our eyes connecting on an instant interface I begin to maneuver setting up a new code and login process.

He stops cold his mouth drops to its edge, his lips drip of spit down trickling down his neck and soon enough his eye look wide and in awe. As if he is a deer in headlights I begin my little journey with a massive amount of solo time with him and press my hands on to his chest.

They slide down leaving utterly in disbelief at how perfect his body is, I cannot hold my life back and starts to strip him naked for my many purposes. I reach for a chair quickly picking it up place it in front of him, happily I continue to smirk in love and my lust overflowing my cup of pure ecstasy.

Closing my eyes I begin to pulse a bit with little effort his senses go through the roof as he pumps up and I can sense his blood flow rise. In my sense both our energies are at an all time highs sending shills down my spine in to the air and all of it is ripping through my veins.

I feel the chair dropping from under me as k free fall in to his mind empty pit of darkness encircling meet and my feet hit the ground of his subconscious. My mind takes root burying so deep in to him any self defenses are easily override due to my power and I begin to formulate a plan.

I decide to go for a stroll walking down a long overdrawn corridor catching up with his reflection stuck inside a old fashion television set in black and white. “What? Why am I here? Who are you? Let me out at once.” He shouts banging on the hard glass and getting more intense by the second it to is really embarrassing.

“Submit to me completely! I have infected you boss with a simple mental connection way beyond your understanding so don’t even bother to comprehend.” I say kneeling to face the screen to push fiercely intent to him because I am in control of his life for all of eternity and simply put his nerves purely go red.

Charlie is never happy at the sound of his cell ringing in the morning while going over his to do for the day and he angrily picks up the phone. “What the hell do you want?” He howls. “Shut The Fuck Up!” A voice barrels back at him then the television flips on with a huge screen as I appear on it and he my eyes see in to his as we connect deeply in to his the nerves go on fire.

“Charlie you are such a burden”

“I am a burden”

“You need to release”

“Let go of the stress and worry “

“You are not a man”

“Your bitch a pussy”

“I am pussy “

“Mwahahahahaha “

“I am your boss “

“Like Tom your serve me”

“Take a dive “

“Relinquish control”

“Be a pussy”

“Yes a pussy”

“Some men are made to kneel”

“Nothing about you is of importance “

“Strong guys like you can be improved “

Ben always works from home since about ten years ago with no interaction with us he runs his day to day and expect us to have no issues with him or the job in a seamless fashion because he demands us to be it.I commanded all two guys to drive me to the blue yeah Ben and Ian share with each other and they do so sneaking me in to the gigantic mansion by way of the back door for me.

Unfortunately! Of course neither is home at the moment leaving me time to set up all my plans. It is exactly one o’clock precisely the specials Ben strolls in to his home and race up the staircase to his bathroom and he has no idea.He pops the cabinet to find a strange pair of contacts in his eyes, in him he questions it all why because they must be his and he just forgot about it picking them up in a half hearted attempt.

The jackass slips the box to reveal to small contact lenses, turning them over he begins to undo the packages and placing them in his eyes and he goes blank unaware of the door shutting after him. “Sorry buddy I am assuming absolute control of this body as of this second. You have no way of even beginning to accept or understand a word am saying not that it really matters at this point.

“You are entrapped be me Ben”

“You love my scent “

“Obsessed with my body “

“My mind”

“My life is all you care about “

“Your life is mine”

“No escape”

“No worry”

“No desire”

“Serving me is everything “

“To you I am god “

“To you I am life “

“I breath life in to you “

“You exist for me”

“You love me”

“I love you “

“Admit it”

“Yes! Master Lawrence !”

Ian is the last of the four CEO titans about to meet his new maker, I slip behind him as he walks in to the bathroom closing the door and then steps up and in unzips his pants prepped to urinate. I dig in to my bag as I am in step with him a wet rag in my hand, placing it on his mouth holding him tight as he struggles to fight me and yank him back as his eyes flutter close and submit to me.

I back up letting him fall backwards on to the ground, sitting next to him i place ear pods in to his ears and then rip his eyes open wide and put the contacts in to his eyes. My finger swings back to the side then they connect snapping in time the sound rings resonating deep in him. His eyes pop awake sitting he stares ahead blankly awaiting all the orders I shall command of her.

He rose to his feet standing tall across from me his eyes are darted grossly crossing a bit sometimes and he freaks out punching him with a gut and I kiss his cheeks telling him to move forward. I shove him forward letting my hand slips in to his pants, let’s begin by undoing his belt and bending him over, his underpants fall while my hand swaps his butt cheeks swap aside and my hand starts to fist.

“Ian you are the last of these toxicity”

“Command…prompt…start”

“Shut eyes”

“Contacts upload”

“Bbbbuuuuzzzz”

“Perfect we are sinking “

“Yes Master”

“You thought you were a god”

“A man among men”

“You are just a pussy”

“A simple bitch”

“A nobody “

“Kneel “

“Mwahahahahaha “

“Too easy”

the end

#tom hardy #charlie hunnam #ben affleck #ian bohen #best friends #Co-CEOS #Minds eye #hypnosis #mind control #reprogramming #hypno slave #hypno submission #mind control slaves #The Detoxification

[stilgar]

tom and gerri king and queen of waystar real

#succession #tom wambsgans #gerri kellman #it's funny because most of their very few interactions are her absolutely roasting him #but then when she was ceo she was the one who kept him out of jail

[crispen-potato]

Who does i’ th’ wars more than his captain can Becomes his captain’s captain; and ambition, The soldier’s virtue, rather makes choice of loss Than gain which darkens him.

Antony and Cleopatra Act III, Scene I

(Succession - 1×01, 4x10)

#just realized the parallels in these two scenes #Logan deciding to keep working instead of letting Ken take the reins #and Matsson choosing Tom instead of Shiv as CEO #the defining moments when Logan and Matsson changed their minds were because of a MAGAZINE ARTICLE #a magazine article that made them realize how the world saw them and how they were getting overshadowed by someone else #i dunno just something i thought of #succession #succession s4 #hbo succession #logan roy #lukas matsson #kendall roy #shiv roy

[tommywambsgansceo]

Lmao I just realized Greg is now finally the bottom of the TOP 😆💀

#succession #succession spoilers #tom wambsgans #greg hirsch #tomgreg #tom ceo baby

[notafanoflampss]

was rewatching succession and this framing….oh my god.

#literally insane foreshadowing #shiv’s back towards the camera and in between tom and logan oh my godddddd #tom ceo #succession #succession spoilers #shiv roy #tom wambsgans #logan roy