#enemies to lovers!tom holland x reader

[waitimcomingtoo]

Daughters Will Love Like You Do

Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

synopsis: Peter gets hired as Morgan’s babysitter and tries to ease the tension between you and her

Themes: enemies to lovers, modern family references 😳, sibling rivalry

masterlist

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

You screamed when you heard a voice coming from behind the open refrigerator door. You quickly shut the door and saw a boy you didn’t recognize standing in your kitchen.

“Oh my God. Where did you come from?” You asked as you put a hand over your pounding heart to calm it.

“Lower east side of Queens. And you should probably put that back.” Peter said and nodded towards the beer you had just taken from your refrigerator. Once you calmed down from the scare, you threw your guard back up and narrowed your eyes at him.

“Thanks for the advice, random boy in my home, but I think I’ll stick with my original plan of getting drunk by the pool.” You smiled sweetly at him. You started to walk out of the kitchen when Peter grabbed the beer bottle out of your hand without even touching it. He pulled the web he had used off the beer and quickly disposed of it before putting it back in the refrigerator.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t let you do that. That’s Mr. Starks beer and I’m pretty sure he doesn’t want his underage daughter drinking it.” Peter said, sounding genuinely apologetic

“I’m 20. I’m like 6 months under age.” You rolled your eyes and went back to the refrigerator. You started to pull it open but Peter pushed it closed.

“Then in six months, I won’t stop you.”

“I’d like to see you try and stop me now.” You scoffed and opened the refrigerator again. You took out a bottle of beer and dangled it in his face for a moment to show him you’d won. He reached for it but you yanked it back, making him stumble forward. With your faces close together now, you smirked before pushing him away.

“As fun as this has been, I gotta go.” You said and started to leave again.

“I’m gonna have to tell Mr. Stark that you’re drinking his beer. I wouldn’t want him to think I’m the one doing it.” Peter called after you. You froze in your tracks as you tried to think of a way to get him to keep your secret. You looked down at the silky robe you were wearing over your bathing suit and got an idea. You subtly opened the robe and pushed it open so that Peter could see your boobs in your bikini top.

“Are you sure you have to do that?” You asked as you batted your eyes at him. Peters eyeline didn’t flinch and he didn’t so much as glance down at your busy.

“Nice try.” He chuckled. “But I was raised by an aunt who grew up during the second wave of feminism in the 70s. Your eyes are up there. That’s the only place I’m looking.”

“You have an answer for everything, don’t you? Who even are you?” You grumbled and tied your robe shut.

“I’m Peter. Your dad hired me to babysit Morgan for the week while he’s away.”

“Wait, what? Why wouldn’t he ask me to babysit?” You asked, feeling slightly insulted.

“Probably because you’re irresponsible.” Peter shrugged.

“You don’t even know me. What makes you think I’m irresponsible?”

“The beer bottle in your hand.” Peter said simply and you realized he wasn’t trying to insult you. You sighed and handed him the beer bottle before getting a sinking feeling inside.

“I didn’t even know my dad left.” You mumbled without looking at him. You didn’t want him to know this, but it hurt you that Tony left without saying goodbye.

“He left this morning after his goodbye ceremony with Morgan.”

“After his what?”

“The ceremony where they say goodbye and he gives her enough kisses and hugs for each day he won’t be here.” Peter explained, making you feel even worse.

“Oh.” You said quietly.

“He doesn’t do that with you too?” Peter asked when he saw the disappointment on his face. You quickly threw a sarcastic smile on as you put your guard back up.

“Nope. I’m the first born daughter. He doesn’t do anything with me.” You tried to laugh it off but you couldn’t hide that it hurt you. He was always so quick to shower Morgan with attention but when it came to you, you felt invisible.

“I didn’t even get a text that he was leaving.” You said, mostly to yourself.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Peter asked sincerely and took a step towards you. His tone was so kind that you almost gave in. But instead, you got defensive, just like you always did when someone tried to care about you.

“Yeah. Can you braid my hair too? And maybe we’ll even have a pillow fight?” You said sarcastically before rolling your eyes at him.

“Your words say one thing but your tone says another.” Peter replied. Just then, you heard a crash followed by Morgan crying in the other room.

“Hm. Your boss is calling you.” You snorted and pointed towards Morgan’s bedroom.

“Coming Morgan.” Peter called and ran towards her bedroom.

“Have fun playing dolls. I’ll be out by the pool.” You called after him before grabbing a beer bottle and going out to the pool.

You laid down on one of your sun chairs and had a good fifteen minutes of quiet until you heard the sound of the sliding door.

“Hi Y/n!” Morgans muffled voice pierced through your earbuds. You took and earbud out and lowered your sunglasses to see Morgan and Peter standing by the pool.

“What was that?” You asked.

“I said hi.” Morgan repeated as she nervously played with the goggles in her hand.

“Oh. Hey.” You gave her a quick smile before putting your sunglasses back up. Morgan looked up at Peter for reassurance and he nodded at her to let her know he would handle it.

“Mind if we join you?” Peter asked as he walked up to you. He looked at your body for just a split second before looking back into your eyes.

“I do mind, actually. I came out here to get away from all the baby stuff.” You said and gestured to the floaties in Peters hand. Morgan overheard the comment and looked down at the ground.

“Don’t worry. We’ll stick to the shallow end. Come on Morgie.” Peter said triumphantly and went back to Morgan. You tried to go back to your music but couldn’t help but watch Peter. He tugged his shirt off and dropped it on the ground before putting on some sunblock. With the protection of your sunglasses, you unapologetically checked him out and paused your music so you could focus. Peter then knelt down and applied sunblock all over Morgan’s face. You couldn’t hear them, but Peter was making Morgan laugh louder than you had ever heard her. He then helped her put on her floaties before putting her goggles on her. You couldn’t help but smile at how sweet he was with her, but that fondness quickly dissipated when they started going in the water.

“Peter, wait. Can she even swim?” You called to them as you pulled your earbuds out.

“No. That’s why we have floaties.” Peter said as he held Morgan’s hand and walked down the pool steps with her. You chewed your bottom lip as you watched them go fully into the water. They started to splash each other but all you could think about was how little she was compared to how deep the water was. You got off your chair and walked over to them.

“Wait. I don’t like this. It’s one thing when there’s a lifeguard but it’s making me anxious for her to go in the pool with just me and you here. If something happens…” You trailed off and looked to Peter for help.

“Nothings gonna happen. Don’t worry. I have super quick reflexes and I’ll be with her the whole time.” Peter assured you.

“But she’s so little.” You said nervously as you looked at Morgan.

“Watch this.” Peter said and grabbed one of the diving rings. He dropped it but shot a web at it before it could touch the water. Your eyebrows went up and you found yourself impressed with Peter.

“I’ll be even quicker if it’s her. I promise. She’ll be safe.” Peter assured you. Curious of him now, you sat down on the edge of the pool and put your feet in the water.

“How did you do that?” You asked him. “You did it before too.”

“I’m Spiderman.” He shrugged.

“You’re what man?”

“Spiderman.”

“Spiderman? So you have spider powers?” You laughed and expected him to say no.

“Yes. And it’s not-“

You cut Peter off by covering your mouth and bursting out laughing. Peter couldn’t even be upset because he was too charmed from hearing your real laugh for the first time.

“How did you possibly get spider powers? We’re you bitten by a super spider or something?” You laughed and leaned your chin on your hand to look at him.

“Yes.” Peter sheepishly admitted.

“WHAT?!” You burst out laughing again and clapped your hands.

“Shut up. Your dad doesn’t even have powers. He just has a metal suit that does all the work.”

“It’s an iron suit, genius. Not metal.” You said and tapped the side of your head. Peter gave you a look and you realized your mistake.

“Iron is a metal, isn’t it?” You asked him.

“Yeah. It is.”

“Whatever. Go play mermaids with your boss.” You snorted and stood up.

“Fine. I will. But it’s really sweet that you were so worried about her.” Peter said with a teasing smile.

“I wasn’t worried about her. She’s not even my sister.” You said in a quiet voice so Morgan couldn’t hear.

“She’s your half sister. Is there a difference?”

“My dad had her while I was a floating around as a pile of dust for five years. I don’t even know her.” You shrugged and gestured to Morgan, who was sitting on the pool step with some mermaid dolls.

“Then why don’t you come in the pool with us and get to know her?” Peter whispered to you.

“Pass. I don’t babysit.”

“It’s not babysitting if it’s family.”

“You’re right. At least with babysitting, you get paid.” You said and started to walk back to your chair. Peter sighed in disappointment to see you leaving.

“Come in if you change your mind.” Peter called after you. You gave him a sarcastic thumbs up before putting your earbuds back in.

Peter played in the pool with Morgan while you laid in the sun. You snuck glances at them every so often and Peter caught it every time.

“You know, the pools a lot more fun when you go in it.” Peter shouted to you.

“Boys are a lot more fun when they’re silent.” You shouted back.

“Come play with us Y/n!” Morgan called to you.

“Sorry. Can’t hear you.” You said and pointed to your earbuds. Peter saw the disappointment on Morgan’s face and quickly reassured her.

“She wants to play with you. She’s just busy.” Peter told her.

“She’s always busy. She never wants to play with me.” Morgan said quietly.

“Maybe it’s just because you guys are so far apart in age. She’s a little too old to play.” Peter tried to convince her.

“I guess so.” Morgan sighed. Peter looked back over at you and made it a personal mission to get you two to connect before the week was over.

Peter didn’t see you at all the next day but caught you when you came in from a night out. You came stumbling through the front door and immediately took your heels off to ease the pain. You looked up to see Peter in his pajamas on with Morgan on his hip. He was humming something in her ear as he bounced her up and down.

“Oh my God. Are you gonna breastfeed her too?” You laughed at the sight in front of you.

“Shh. I finally got her to sleep.” Peter hushed you and checked to make sure Morgan was still asleep.

“How? Did you tell her the story of all the girls you’ve dated and she felt so uncomfortable in the silence that she fell asleep?” You asked him.

“Very funny.” Peter narrowed his eyes. “And what makes you think I haven’t dated any girls?”

“Everything about this makes me think you haven’t dated any girls.” You said and gestured to Peter and Morgan.

“You may be right. But that doesn’t mean I can’t date them if I wanted to.” Peter whispered.

“It absolutely does.” You whispered back and wandered into the kitchen. When you got in there, you saw a cup of water, a plate of toast, and some ibuprofen. You smiled at the kind gesture from Peter before downing the ibuprofen. He wandered into the kitchen after putting Morgan in her bed and smiled to himself when he saw you eating the toast he made for you.

“So what about you? How many heirs and princes have you dated?” He asked you teasingly.

“None. I don’t date.”

“Really? Why not?”

“Because boys are stupid and not worth my time.” You shrugged and took another bite.

“I mean, that’s absolutely true on all counts, but don’t you want somebody to love?”

“No. I have me.” You shrugged as you looked down at the plate of toast Peter had made you. You felt like you had let him in just a little too much and started to get defensive again.

“How come its powerful when you don’t date but lame when I don’t?” Peter asked as he walked closer to you.

“Because mines a choice. Yours is sad.” You replied. You didn’t like that you were being mean to Peter, but it was your natural instinct to push people away when they were kind to you. You looked into Peters eyes and decided to fight against your nature.

“Thank you for the toast. And the water. You didn’t have to do that.” You smiled sheepishly at him.

“No problem. Can you just do me a favor and let me know when you’re going out next time? I don’t want to be a nag but I am the babysitter, so I kind a need to know where the babies are.”

“Fine. But just so we’re clear, you’re Morgans babysitter. Not mine.”

“Got it.” Peter chuckled. “And I’m sorry if it feels like I’m smothering you. It’s just that my natural instinct is to take care of people.”

“Aw. You’ll make a great mother one day.” You smirked and patted his chest.

“Thanks.” He blushed. “So where were you tonight?”

“A party.” You shrugged.

“Ooo. Fun.” He clicked his tongue. “Did you meet anybody worth mentioning?”

“I just told you. I don’t date.”

“Ever?” He asked with a teasing smile.

“Never.” You said simply. Peter looked down at the ground and shook his head.

“Huh. That’s too bad.” He smiled softly as he looked up into your eyes.

“Why is that too bad?” You wondered.

“No reason. Goodnight.” Peter smiled sweetly at you before heading off to bed. You frowned in confusion but shrugged it off and went to bed as well.

The next morning, you went down to the kitchen to follow the smell of pancakes. You walked into the kitchen to find Morgan sitting at the table with a high stack of pancakes in front of her. Peter was busy giving her pancakes a face using whip cream before squirting some whip cream into his mouth. When he looked up, he made eye contact with you and quickly put his mouth over his hand.

“Y/n. Hi.” He said with a mouthful of whip cream.

“Hey Peter. Having fun?” You laughed and raised your eyebrows at him.

“Good morning. Breakfast?” Peter asked and handed you a plate of pancakes.

“Thanks. You make a pretty good housewife.” You winked at him and took the plate.

“You mean that?” Peter blushed and pretended to tuck hair behind his ear. You laughed and rolled your eyes at him before taking a seat at the kitchen counter. He sat across from you before talking some pancakes for himself.

“So how come you’re staying here for the week? Shouldn’t you be in school or something?”

“I’m off this week. Spring break.” Peter told you.

“Hold on. You’re spending your spring break babysitting a five year old? Exactly how much is my dad paying you?”

“Nothing. He said he needed a babysitter on short notice and I want him to know I’m as reliable as I am responsible.” Peter shrugged and took a sip from his coffee. You raised a skeptical eyebrow at him and he looked away from you.

“Plus, he pays for my tuition.” He mumbled.

“Ah, there it is.” You snorted. “I’m just saying, he pays for my tuition too but that doesn’t mean I’d willingly change a diaper.”

“I go on the big girl potty now.” Morgan said, making you roll your eyes.

“Congrats. Same.” You said sarcastically. You thought Peter would laugh but he just looked at Morgan to see if she was okay.

“You just don’t see the appeal because you’ve lived in a place like this your entire life. I live in a s-h-i-t-t-y apartment that’s the size of your walk in closet. Plus, I love kids. So why wouldn’t I spend a week living in mansion with a great kid?” Peter shrugged, making sure Morgan overheard.

“Because you have no friends to hang out with instead?” You asked sarcastically.

“Funny.” He rolled his eyes. “What about you? You’ve been home most of the week too.”

“I don’t feel like going out.” You shrugged and took a bite of your pancake.

“Why not? Don’t you have daddy’s credit card to spend?” Peter teased you right back.

“Don’t you have your virginity to keep forever?” You whispered so Morgan couldn’t hear.

“Listen, since you’re asking nicely, I’ll give it to you.” Peter said and held up his hands.

“Woah. What would your feminist aunt say to that?” You laughed.

“She’d tell me I was the most handsome and special boy in the world.” Peter shrugged, making you laugh again.

“You know what, I think she may be right.” You humored him, making Peter blush. You were enjoying the time you got to spend with him, only to be interrupted but Morgan tugging on his sleeve.

“Peter, can we go play now?” She asked.

“We’re talking, Morgan.” You said, a little coldly.

“Oh. I can go play by myself.” She said sadly and took a step back.

“No, it’s okay. Go head to your room. I’ll be there in a minute.” Peter quickly assured her. You couldn’t hide the disappointment on your face as Peter chose her over you. You knew it was silly, but it hurt you to see him get up. You’d been having a nice conversation and now he was gonna run off the second Morgan needed attention. It reminded you of your relationship with your dad and that made hot tears of frustration come to your eyes. You got out of your seat before Peter could see you cry but he stopped you.

“Y/n, wait. Please stay.” He said, sounding a little desperate. You stopped and turned to him wigh folded arms.

“Why don’t you join us? We can all hang out together.” Peter suggested. He was feeling the same connection you were and didn’t want to leave, but his job was to be with Morgan. Deep down, you knew that, but it still hurt to see him leave you at a moments notice. You looked between him and Morgan as a familiar sinking feeling set in.

“I already told you. I don’t babysit.” You said and started to walk away.

“Maybe we can talk later?” He called after you, but you didn’t respond. Peter sighed before putting on a happy face for Morgan.

After sulking in your room for a little bit, you decided to go check on Peter and Morgan. You couldn’t help but overhear the constant laughter coming from Morgan’s room and wanted to see what could possibly be that funny. But most of all, you felt guilty for the way you behaved in the kitchen and wanted to say hi to show them you were sorry.

You pushed open Morgan’s door and burst out laughing when you saw Peter in sparkly red lipstick, messy blue eyeshadow, and hot pink blush. All this was topped off by the three curlers he had in his hair.

“Oh. This is good.” You laughed and took out your phone to take a picture.

“See Morgie? I told you you were a natural at makeup.” Peter said, making her smile.

“Can I give you a makeover Y/n?” Morgan asked hopefully.

“Hard pass. I’m not trying to look like that.” You laughed and pointed to Peter, making Morgan’s smile fall.

“If you didn’t come for a makeover then why are you here?” Peter asked you.

“I just wanted to see what you two dorks were doing.” You shrugged. “And I wanted to tell you I’m going out tonight. Since you asked me to tell you.”

“Oh. Okay.” Peter nodded as his disappointment set in. He hoped to get to talk to you some more after Morgan went to bed, but now he knew he’d spend the night alone.

“See you later, Pete.” You waved to him before shutting the door.

“Bye Y/n! I love you.” Morgan called after you.

“You too.” You unenthusiastically called back.

Tensions were high the next day when you didn’t come down for breakfast. You didn’t feel like seeing Morgan or Peter so you stayed in your room until you needed to eat. You got a snack from kitchen but got distracted by Morgan’s voice in the other room.

“Oops.” Morgan said following the sound of glass shattering. You ran into the room and saw a picture frame on the floor in many pieces.

“What happened?” You gasped and pulled her away from the frame so she wouldn’t get cut by the glass. Once she was safely away, you went to go inspect the frame.

“I’m sorry. It was an accident.” Morgan apologized. When you saw the picture she had broken was the only picture of you and Tony in the entire house, you felt something snap inside. You had to walk by wall after wall that was covered in pictures of Morgan from the years you were snapped away. There were family portraits that you weren’t in all over the place but the one photo that Tony hung up of the two of you when you were five now laid in pieces on the ground. You looked to the side and saw the one of million of Morgan’s toys that had done the damage.

“Ugh! You did this on purpose you little brat.” You stamped your foot and felt more like the brat yourself.

“Woah. What’s going on in here?” Peter ran into the room when he heard the shouting.

“She broke a picture frame.” You said and picked the picture of out of the glass.

“On accident!” Morgan quickly explained.

“Oh please.” You scoffed and folded your arms. Peter knelt down beside Morgan and pulled her into his arms.

“Y/n, she’s five. I really don’t think it was on purpose.” Peter said in a kind tone.

“It’s the one picture hanging up around here that she’s not in. How could it not be on purpose?”

“I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry.” Morgan whined.

“You know what? Things were so much better before you got here.” You snapped and stormed out of the room with the picture still in your hand.

You sat in your room for a little while until you heard a knock at your door. You hoped it was Morgan so you could tell her you were sorry for overreacting, but it was Peter that opened your door.

“Hey. Any interest in some hot coco?” Peter asked as he peaked his head into your room. You were sitting on your bed with your chin resting on your knees as you stared at the picture of you and Tony.

“Don’t. Don’t be nice to me right now. I don’t deserve it.”

“If it makes you feel any better, she cried the other day because she didn’t like the spoon I gave her for her ice cream. Five year olds don’t really have control over their emotions yet.” Peter said as he took a seat on your bed.

“Neither do 20 year olds.” You mumbled and turned away from him.

“Do you think we could talk?” He asked and set the hot chocolate down on your nightstand.

“What do you want, Peter? An explanation?” You sighed. “I have nothing to tell you. I don’t know why I’m so angry all the time. I wish I knew but I don’t. So just go away before I snap at you too.”

“I don’t need an explanation. I just want to know what you’re thinking. I hate it when things are unbeknownst to me.”

You laughed at his choice of words and reluctantly looked at him. He looked like he genuinely wanted to know what was bothering you, so you let your guard down.

“I disappear for a couple years and when I come back, my dad is married and has another daughter. And I wasn’t there for any of it. He dated my mom for years but always told her he wasn’t the marriage type. Then all the sudden, I get blipped and gets married to his assistant and has a kid with her? He doesn’t even talk to my mom anymore. And he barely makes time for me.” You said for the first time out loud. Peter stayed silent as he listened to you but put his hand over yours to let you know he understood. You felt tears come to your eyes the more you thought about it.

“I just…I just feel like he completely moved on to his new family. I’m the only part of his life that still hangs around and sometimes…”

“Sometimes what?” Peter asked when you trailed off.

“I feel like he doesn’t want me anymore. I think he wishes I wasn’t around.” You admitted as your tears spilled onto your cheeks.

“What? That’s crazy.”

“Is it? I feel like I’m just his random adult kid from an old relationship that hangs around his house while he raises his new kid with his new wife.”

“I’m sure he doesn’t feel that way. You’re his firstborn. You’re irreplaceable.”

“I thought I was. Until he replaced me.” You said as you stared at the picture of you and Tony. Peter looked at the picture too and smiled a little. You were about Morgan’s age in it and smiling wider than he had ever seen before. You traced the outline of your dad with your fingernail and let out a sigh.

“I know I could be nicer to her. I know she’s just a kid. But she was already five by the time I first met her. I never saw her grow up. We never had a chance to bond because I wasn’t there. Now I’m here and I have no idea how to connect with her so I don’t even bother trying. I’m not good with kids like you are. I have no idea how to talk to them.”

“Is that the only reason you won’t play with her?” Peter wondered. You looked him in the eyes and smirked a little, knowing he saw right through you.

“I resent her.” You admitted. “I resent her for replacing me. My dad missed me so much that he had another kid and now, I’m nothing to him. I’m just Morgan’s older sister. I can never measure up to her.”

“You’re a lot more than that. You’re you. And there is nothing replaceable about that.” Peter said as he rubbed his thumb over your knuckles. You looked at your intertwined hands and smiled a little.

“Plus I had to teach Morgan how to put her hands in her pockets yesterday. She didn’t even know how. So there’s not much to measure up to.” Peter added, making you laugh.

“Why are you so good at this?”

“Because. It’s my job to take care of Tony Starks daughters.” Peter shrugged.

“Wait, he didn’t actually ask you to look after me, did he?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Here. Why don’t you read the text.” Peter offered as he handed you his phone. You looked at him skeptically before taking his phone to read his texts.

“Hey Penis Pecker tell me what you got for number seven on the geometry homework or I will stick my finger up your-“

“Oops. Wrong text.” Peter quickly grabbed the phone. “That’s my friend Flash. Here.”

You laughed at him before looking at the new text he had pulled up.

“Hey Pete the treat. Thanks again for offering to babysit. I’m sure you’ll have your hands full with my youngest, but please keep an eye on my Y/n too. She seems distant lately and I’m not sure if she’s a typically youth raging against the machine or if there’s really something bothering her. Her door is always closed when I try to go talk to her so maybe you can get through to her in a way I can’t with your youthful boyishness.” You read off Peters phone. You felt tears come to your eyes to see all your fears put to rest.

“He’s right. You are very boyish.” You laughed softly and wiped your face.

“He cares about you. He just doesn’t know how to show it.” Peter assured you as he brushed some of your hair off your forehead.

“I guess I don’t really give him a chance. But he could still try harder. He didn’t even say goodbye to me before he left.” You pointed out.

“That’s my fault. He was about to go into your room to say goodbye and I kinda told him not to.” Peter sheepishly confessed.

“What? Why?”

“I sorta gave him the idea that if he gave you some space, you’d come to him. I told him not to try so hard.” He admitted.

“You’re giving my dad parenting advice?” You chuckled.

“Yeah. And clearly I should stop because it didn’t work. I tried to help him out but I just ended up hurting you.” Peter sighed and shook his head in embarrassment.

“I don’t know. I think it’s sweet you tried to help him.” You said as you played with his fingers. Peter blushed all the way to his ears as he looked up into your eyes.

“You’re sweet in general.” You smiled softly. “You’re a really nice guy, Peter. I don’t know why I’m so mean to you. I don’t know why I’m so mean to everyone.”

“That’s okay. I know why.” Peter said and nudged you a little.

“You do?”

“Yeah. It’s probably because you’re on your period.” Peter said sweetly. You narrowed your eyes at him before cracking a smile.

“Oh really?” You humored him.

“Yep. Women are really overemotional. It’s not your fault. If you learned to plug it up-“

“It’s less funny and more offensive now.” You cut him off.

“I’ll stop.” He said immediately. You laughed and looked into his eyes again. This time, you didn’t feel the urge to push him away. Instead, you wanted him closer.

“Do you think me, you, and Morgan could hang out tonight?” You asked him.

“I don’t know which one of us would love that more. Me or her.” Peter grinned.

“Probably you, perv.” You mumbled out of the corner of your mouth.

“Yeah. Who am I kidding? Its definitely me.” Peter chuckled. You looked down at your intertwined hands again before giving Peters hand a squeeze.

“What if I’m not good at talking to her?” You asked without looking at him.

“Kids are easy to talk to. All kids really want is two things, to be happy and to make you happy. So just match their excitement when they speak and say what you think will make them feel special.”

“You think I can do it? I’m kinda a bitch.”

“I know you can do it. Come on. Let’s go see what she’s up to.” Peter said and led you out of the room with his hand. You got to Morgans room and knocked on her door without ever dropping Peters hand.

“Hey Morgan. Mind if I join?” You asked as you entered her room.

“Really? You wanna?” She asked excitedly.

“Of course. Where can I sit?” You asked when you saw the tea party she had set up with some of her stuffed animals.

“Right here. Next to me.” Morgan patted the spot next to her that was conveniently left empty. When you sat down beside her, you saw there was a place card with your name on it that Morgan had made. Your name was sloppily written in crayon with hearts all around it.

“This is so cute. How’d you know I was coming?” You asked and picked up the card to see it better.

“I always leave this seat open for you in case you ever want to play with me.” Morgan explained as she poured you some pretend tea. You froze and looked up at Peter, who gave you a reassuring smile. The urge to shut her out went away and instead, you wrapped and arm around her.

“Thanks, Morgan. That was really sweet of you. It’s the best seat in the house.” You said and hugged her to your side. Morgan eagerly hugged you back before turning to Peter.

“Peter, can you get a tiara for Y/n please?”

“Gems or feathers?” Peter asked her. Morgan looked at you and you seemed to read each others mind.

“Feathers.” You said in unison. Peter smirked and got a tiara with pink feathers out of Morgans toy box.

“Ooo. Just my style.” You danced a little as you put the tiara on your head. While you did that, Morgan placed a sparky blue tiara on Peters head.

“How do I look?” He asked you.

“Very handsome. Like a prince.” You answered, making him blush.

“Peter is Queen of Spiderlandia.” Morgan explained to you.

“Is he now? Very impressive. And what are you the queen of?” You asked Morgan.

“I’m not the queen. I’m the princess.” Morgan replied as she pulled a drawing out from under her teacup. She handed it to you and you saw a stick figure of a girl with your colored hair in a poorly drawn tower. Down below, a stick figure with Morgan’s hair color stood on the ground with a sword in her hand.

“You’re the queen. But you’ve been locked in your room by an evil force that Peter said was called “puberty”. And that’s why you never leave your room.” Morgan explained her drawing to you. You felt sad inside to hear the explanation she had made for herself to justify why you never left your room, but you kept on a happy face for her.

“Aw. Did Peter say that?” You smiled sarcastically at him.

“I don’t think Peter said that.” Peter said quickly.

“I’m the princess. And it’s my job to set you free.” Morgan continued as she pointed to her stick figure at the bottom of the drawing.

“Well thank you, princess. Your work here is done. You set me free. Now I can come to your tea parties.” You smiled softly at her as you tucked her hair behind her ear.

“Really? You will?” She asked hopefully.

“I will. So I can come hang out with my sister.” You nodded and she threw her arms around you. You stiffened at first, then hugged her back. Peter watched with a proud smile as the two of you finally connected.

“One sugar cube or two?” Peter asked you and held up the bowl of pretend sugar cubes.

“Two please.” You said and held up your tea cup.

“One for me.” Peter said out loud as he pretended to put a sugar cube in his cup. You couldn’t help but laugh at how dedicated he was to the performance.

“And eight for Princess Morgan.” He said and pretended to put exactly eight cubes into her cup.

“Eight?” You laughed in surprise.

“I’m five. Give me a break.” She shrugged and took a sip of her pretend tea.

“You sound just like dad.” You laughed again and Morgan smiled proudly.

“Speaking of dad. Mr. Stark just texted me.” Peter said as he checked his phone.

“What did he say?” You wondered.

“Oh wow. He’s home early.” Peter read off his screen.

“He is?” Morgan asked.

“He is.” Tony said from the doorway, making you all jump.

“Well look at that. My girls are getting along. Isn’t that something?” Tony smiled fondly and leaned against the doorframe.

“Daddy!” Morgan cheered and ran to hug him. Tony scooped her up and kissed her cheek before looking at you.

“Hey Y/n.” Tony said in a low voice and threw up a peace sign.

“You’re so weird.” You laughed and got up to hug him. Tony froze in surprise and looked at Peter for answers. Peter gave him a double thumbs up so Tony hugged you back tightly.

“I missed you.” You said as you rested your head on his shoulder.

“I missed you more, sour patch. Is this the part where you’re sweet again?” Tony smiled teasing at you but sounded genuinely curious.

“Nope. Now get out. I’m spending time with my sister.” You said playfully and pointed out the door.

“So Peter can stay but I can’t?” Tony pretended to be offended.

“Yep. Girls only.” You replied. Peter cleared his throat and you gave him an apologetic smile.

“Sorry.” You mumbled. Tony kissed your cheek before leaving Morgan’s room. You took her hand and sat back down at the little table to continue your tea party.

“Hey Morgan, do you think you could do my makeup after this?” You asked as you pretended to pour her some more tea.

“Yeah! Do you have somewhere special to go?” Morgan asked excitedly.

“I do. After this, Peter and I are going on a date.” You said simply, making Peter choke on his fake tea.

“Really?” Morgan gushed.

“Really?” Peter asked hopefully.

“Yeah. So make me look really pretty, okay?” You said and tapped Morgan’s nose.

“Okay.” She grinned and went to get her makeup kit.

“A date, huh? I thought I couldn’t get those.” Peter said

“Yeah, well.” You shrugged and sipped your tea. “Never say never.”

Tag list 🏷️

@awesomebooklover17 @thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling @serendipitous-amor @tom-hollands-wifey

@whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings @ultrunning @imyourliquor-youremypoison @andreasworlsboring101

@letsloveimagines @peterparkoure @a-villain-vying-for-attention @justcallmehitgirl

@jackiehollanderr @maryjanee23 @geeksareunique @emmamarshmellow

@unbelievableholland @flixndchill @sovereignparker @every-marveler-ever

@undiadeestos @caelestii-e @eridanuswave​ ​ @fiantomartell @solarxmoonchild

@canyouevencauseicant @illwritetomorrow @thehappygrungelife @saysomethingspiderman

@smilexcaptainx @quaksonhehe @kelieah @seasidecrowbar @lovelessdagger

@electraheart-3174 @unbelievableholland @yourtypicalhotmess @horanxholland

@thesuitelifeofafangirl @marshxx @heyheycharlatte @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie

@maybemona @alexxcorona113 @lethal-wisdom @xo-spidey

#peter parker x stark!reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker enemies to lovers #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker imagine #peter parker x y/n #peter parker angst #peter parker fluff #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland fluff #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x y/n

[supercap2319]

"Parker we shouldn't." Y/N moaned as Parker's lips were on his sweet spot on his neck. That part that made Y/N crazy and left him a whimpering mess. Parker pressed their bodies together as his hot breath was on his neck.

"We shouldn't have the first time, Stark." Parker said. He began to put his hand in Y/N's pants and teased his growing erection. "Before I fuck you senseless. Flash Thompson is having a party tomorrow night and I want you to come."

"I already did come. Or have you forgotten?" Y/N half jokes/whines as Parker teases his sensitive dick head. He let out a breathy chuckle. "You certainly did. All over my fucking face. It was hot."

It was hard to focus on anything as Parker attacked Y/N's neck and jerked him off, but he tried to maintain control. "Are we going as friends or enemies?"

Parker scoffed. "Enemies, dumbass. You actually think I would have people associate me with you?"

Y/N frowned. "You fucking asshole." He kissed him harder tugging hard on his stupid sugar brown hair.

He watched as Parker took off his shirt and pushed him onto the floor as Parker looked down at him and smirked. "You're a fucking cock slut, Stark."

"And you're a slut slut, Parker. Now shut up, and fuck me."

"Aye aye captain."

#x male reader #male reader insert #male x male #spiderman #tom holland #tom holland x male reader #peter parker #peter parker x male reader #mcu spiderman #enemies to friends to lovers #hate sex #name calling

[shawnxstyles]

the list

DATE: JUNE 15, 2023

summary: tom offers for you and your writing partner to work at the empty frat house when you have no other options. even though you hate tom with a burning passion, you can’t fail this class. when all is going fine, your partner has to leave abruptly for an emergency, leaving you with no way home (wink). thinking you’re all alone, you decide to snoop through tom’s belongings to try to find his rumored list.

request: yessss

song: Hot in Herre- nelly

words: 9.2k

warnings: SMUT (f- receiving [oral, fingering, cock-thumping, nipple play, choking, deepthroating], m- receiving [blowjob], [small] daddy kink, degrading kink, rough/protected sex [not clearly consensual, but implied], mention of reader going under/slight subspace), pet names (princess), a lot of language, and a lot of dialogue.

note: I’M BACK and i’m with this big baby right here. i hope you guys enjoy this because it took me a few days to write. i’m glad to finally have some time to write again!

frat!tom x college!reader

–

“I’m really glad we got to be partners on this,” You smile as you hug your textbook and notebook to your chest.

“Yeah, me too. I think we’ll do great,” Brandon replies, and then the conversation basically stops there. It was dry and kind of awkward, but he was pretty nice, so it’s alright with you.

Your Creative Writing class was assigned a project that consisted of writing a short story with another person. Your teacher picked the partners and you got Brandon, which you were thankful for because he is original and creative, also known as not being a plagiarizer. But you weren’t sure how well your guys’ genres mixed.

You wrote a lot of old realistic romance stories, whether it was for free-writing in class or on your own time. Brandon apparently wrote a lot of futuristic science fiction and read a lot of comic books. You weren’t against the idea that he was a nerd or a geek, but you just hoped it didn’t overwhelm your writing process. But again, he was nice, which you didn’t get from most guys.

The campus is bussing like usual. All different kinds of people roam the concrete ground waiting for their classes to start or trying to leave without dropping all their things or wandering because they don’t know what else to do. It’s a balance that you’ve been accustomed to for the past year. Yeah, you took a gap year at 18 and are now a 20 year-old sophomore in college, but that doesn’t mean you have your shit figured out. No one does, and that kind of comforts you.

With these random thoughts, you and Brandon walk through the crowded campus until you reach the library.

“What the hell,” You squint your eyes at the paper sign that is taped to the glass door. You suggested the library as your work spot because Starbucks may be a little loud and you needed a lot of silence while writing. You’re also very picky with your own stories, so you can’t even imagine how it’s going to be when you combine ideas. Maybe you should just be less conceited…

As you read the surprisingly fine print, you find out that the room is having an inspection check.

“The librarian told people not to eat in there,” Brandon shakes his head in disappointment and you sigh in subtle annoyance.

“Well what are–”

“Oh, shit, it’s closed?” A voice appears from behind you and you nearly turn around and swing at the body. Only because you know whose body it belongs to.

A body with perfect fucking arms and a stupidly good-looking face–

Stop it.

“No, it’s just locked and has a sign that says it’s closed,” You roll your eyes as you spin around, facing Tom in all his stupid glory. A slight smirk creeps up his face as his eyes look down at you. You watch as he chews his gum, and you hate that it’s kind of hot.

Stop. It.

“What’s with the attitude? I just asked a question–”

“Well, it was a stupid question,” You snarl, biting on your lip in irritation. Even looking at him gets you all riled up because you know how he is.

You’re not sure exactly when you started hating Tom, but you know exactly why. Hate might be a strong word, but it goes well with the feeling you experience every time his name is mentioned or you see his smug face. You hate the way he talks about girls. You hate the way he treats girls, like they’re on some type of list and he’s just checking them off. Every time he even looks at a woman he finds mildly attractive, she’s instantly on said-list. He probably has a handwritten copy somewhere. You wouldn’t be surprised because you’ve heard that rumor before.

You heard a lot about him before you actually knew him. You heard through the grapevine that he lost his virginity to a girl in college when he was only 15, and now he’s a senior in college. And that he fucked three different girls in the same day during his senior year of high school. And a new one that you’ve heard is that he has sex every single day with a new person because he can’t live without it. You’re not sure if all of these are true or correct, but after you got to know him just a little, you know that it can’t be too far from the truth.

Tom was in your Film Analysis class last year. You purposely sat next to him because you thought he was cute, and you weren’t wrong, but you paid for it at the end of the year. He would constantly peek at your papers, and at first, you thought it was a sign of flirting. But he was just too involved with his phone during the films that he never knew what was going on once the assignments came. Your professor didn’t let you guys change seats because it was easier to take attendance with a seating chart, and he had “hundreds of students every day” blah blah blah. Why did your teacher have to be so old he was on the brink of death?

Throughout the entire year, you would overhear Tom talk about girls and what he was doing with them. It disgusted you that someone could be so objective and still get the girl (or girls), but you tried not to get involved with it. Then one day, like a random switch, Tom tried to hit on you. He tries to deny it, saying “Why would I do that?” and “You’re not my type” and shit like that, but Tom is only in it for the sex. He doesn’t care too much about appearances, so that’s how you know he was full of shit.

To this day, you swear you’re still on his list, whether it’s a physical or mental one. Tom flirts with you like he can, and yeah, sometimes that fucks with your head, but you remain composure. Because of your curiosity, you want to find out, one, if he actually has a list and two, if you’re on it. But your hate for him overpowers your curious wonders. If you did find this “list,” you wouldn’t stop making fun of him for it. And, he wouldn’t be able to survive if you were actually on it.

“Can we work at your place, Y/N?” Brandon asks, completely ignoring Tom.

“Can’t,” You reply, “my roommate asked for the evening, so she can…have her boyfriend over.”

“Oh,” he stares at the ground awkwardly and scratches his neck.

“Oh, you mean have sex?” Tom inserts himself into the conversation. You glare at him with searing lasers in your eyes. “What? You can’t say the word sex? Does it turn you on too much or something?”

“Tom!” You whack him in the arm with your heavy textbook and he simply laughs. It was whole and deep, and it made you feel all warm, but so did your hatred for him, so what’s the difference? “What is wrong with you? Do you have any filter?”

“I’m going to say…no,” he winks and crosses his arms like he is the coolest person to walk this earth. His smugness makes your fists clench and your blood overheat with fiery.

“Okay, before this gets into an argument, where are we going to work?” Brandon chips in with his hand on your shoulder. You take a deep breath, trying to think rationally.

“You can work at my place,” Tom licks his pink lips and infamously smirks again. Your body is so hot that it melted your brain into a mush of incomprehension, so you can’t even respond to his idiocracy before Brandon very unsurely says why not.

Fuck.

–

“Welcome to The House,” Tom introduces dramatically while flinging the door open for you both. You swear that was the most gentleman-like thing he’s ever done.

“At least come up with an original name,” You roll your eyes again like your body has been programmed to every time Tom opens his mouth.

“So much attitude for such a tiny person,” he taunts, shutting the door behind him. Brandon walks quickly into the dining room with his backpack, leaving himself out of the very heart-felt conversation between you and Tom. Your jaw ticks a tad at his words. “I love when you roll your eyes.”

Your face scrunches in disgust, but can’t help it when your curiosity slips from your mouth, “Why?”

“Because then I know I’ve done my job,” A hint of a smirk rises on his lips while your eye twitches at his arrogance.

“And what is your job? To annoy the shit out of me? ‘Cause if it is, congratulations! You get promoted every time you talk to me,” No matter how badly you want to, you resist the urge to roll your eyes just because you know how much it would please him. Even with your irate words, that all-too familiar smirk lingers like he’s proud.

He likes when you fight back because no one ever does. It’s easy for him. Too easy sometimes. Yeah, he likes when he can sleep with a girl without having to try too hard, but once he met you, he realized he liked a bit of a fight. Tom craved the passion and bubbling tension that strangled the air between you both. It was thrilling and enthralling, and he knew with enough poking and prodding, you would snap. That was his job; to make you snap.

“Close, but no cigar.”

“What are you, like, a hundred?”

“I’m surprised you’re still talking to me, princess.” There’s that name. That stupid fucking name. You know that he throws that title around like candy to women. You know that the sweet undertone of the tag is what it does for them and what gets them in his bed at the end of the night. It angered you that he thought you were so easy, so gullible. But no, you weren’t going to let him smooth-talk you all the way to his bedroom. Even if it was just upstairs…

“Actually, I’m not anymore,” You finished the conversation and walked away. After you stopped facing him, your eyes immediately went to the back of your head in a dramatic roll. As you enter the dining room, you are suddenly aware of the heat radiating off your skin. You lift a hand up to your beaming cheeks, which turn out to be flaming with the fury bubbling in your blood.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” Brandon asks, being the nice guy he is. You swallowed and inhaled.

“Yeah. Let’s get started.”

–

Not even ten minutes later, Tom comes bustling into the room. He says he was just checking up on you guys, but he was just trying to annoy you. After half an hour, he comes back again, saying something about the last football game and if you two have watched it. You inhale a few times, squeezing your pencil in your hand. He walks into the kitchen ajar and grabs something from the fridge.

“Tom, can you leave us alone? We have to get this done by Friday.”

“But it’s my house. I should be able to go wherever I want in my own house.”

“You literally invited us here, so we could work in peace!” You didn’t mean to shout, but Tom brought out the worst in you.

“I never said anything about peace–”

“Look, Tom, just please leave us alone, yeah?” You lowered your voice a bit, hoping maybe he would hear you. To your surprise, he licks his lips and re-enters the dining room, standing near your chair at the end of the table.

“All you had to do was say please, princess,” he winks and struts away, and somewhere inside of you is annoyed that he got the last word. But a big part of you was…affected. Badly. You never thought in a million years the name princess coming from his mouth would hit you, but for some odd reason, it did. Maybe it was because of his impromptu alliteration. Or the wink–no, it couldn’t have been the wink. Maybe it was the octave of his voice? You noticed how it got a tad deeper when he talked to you compared to how he did earlier. Were you looking too far into it?

Fuck, now he’s got you in your head.

Was this his job all along?

“How does that idea sound?” Brandon’s voice pulled you from your overwhelming thoughts, but not fast enough.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch what you said,” You apologize with a head shake. He repeats, and you write it down. This goes on for about an hour or so; you two throwing ideas back and forth.

You tried to find middle ground. You assumed you would be writing some sci-fi romance, and you were correct. Although you wanted to be there in the moment, you couldn’t stop thinking about Tom, and just the thought infuriated you. If you were present, you wouldn’t have complied and agreed to some of Brandon’s suggestions without more of a fight. The more ideas he spouted out, the weirder they got.

“Robots…God, I love writing about robots. Robots falling in love?” he pauses for a moment. “while trying to take over the world! You have to write that one down.”

You wrote it down, but your mind was moving differently than your body. As he suggested more topics, you zoned out completely. He was clearly very into the process and you…couldn’t have been farther from it. Like an echo, Tom lingered in your mind.

Where was he? What was he doing? Was he having sex right now? Why wasn’t he bothering you anymore?

You might have told him please, but Tom is just as stubborn as they come. You can’t say much though because you’re just as stubborn yourself. Maybe that’s why you two always bicker. You wondered if he fought with anyone else like how he battled you. Was he trying to make you mad just for the fun of it, or did he want something more?

Was there really a list? You can’t be the only person who’s considered that, right?

“Oh no.” The two words out of Brandon’s mouth brought you back because they were different from one of his absurd ideas. His eyes are staring at his phone screen once you start focusing in on him.

“What’s wrong?” You asked.

“It’s…a family emergency. Shit, Y/N, I have to go up North. Like right now. Do you think we can pick this up in a few days?” He wavers out nervously and clearly full of panic.

“Y-yeah, of course!” You blink rapidly at the sudden change and nod to every word without really thinking.

“Are you sure?” He questions, but he’s already standing up from the table with his backpack tight around his shoulders and his keys in his hand.

“Yes, now go!” You flee him from the house, so he can get a head-start on his drive. As his car zooms down the street, your eyes wander to the empty driveway of the house. And then it gets you wondering again.

How are you going to get to your dorm?

“Fuck,” You grumble in the evening air, the sun barely beginning to set.

You had no money on you, and of course your card wasn’t linked to your phone, so you couldn’t buy an Uber, Lyft, or anything. You creep your way back into the frat house with slugged shoulders. You drop yourself onto the small couch as silence roams around. You never in your life thought that a frat house, or any house with just guys, would be this quiet. It makes sense that they’re all out though because they’re all social butterflies trying to get laid at the latest party. Woo hoo. Sense the sarcasm?

Feeling sorry for yourself, you wander around the house. You pad the entire downstairs area before making your way up the staircase. The second you touch the top step, your curiosity starts to plague you.

Where’s Tom’s room?

Yeah, okay, maybe it’s rude, but you don’t know what to do. And, come on, it’s Tom. He doesn’t care. More specifically, you don’t care. You don’t care that you’re about to snoop his room because no one is here and it’s not like he’s going to know, right?

There’s about five bedrooms upstairs and three of the doors were open. With delicacy, you barely pushed open the doors that weren’t closed completely as if they would creak loudly and someone would find you. You peeked in a few rooms, glancing at the designs to see if you saw something that related to Tom. None of the rooms seemed fitting.

And then, like a lightbulb, you remembered that Tom was the leader, or whatever bullshit they called him. You know the title only ever gave him an ego boost. In most cases, the “leader” gets the biggest bedroom, well, at least that’s what it was like at your friend’s sorority house. So, testing your theory, you trail down the carpeted hallway until you reach the last room, which you assumed was the largest. Turning the knob, your eyes stare at the master bedroom before you.

Called it.

The room had white walls, just like the others. But Tom had a lot more personality through his decorating than you would have thought and it was…surprisingly…well-kept. Maybe it wasn’t his room.

As you stepped a foot inside, you got the hint that his favorite color was blue; navy bed sheets, baby blue desk lamp, midnight-colored nightstand, cyan desk chair, and a few other accessories that solidified the idea. Your eyes stay glued to his bed for a moment. It was a little ruffled, like he had been sleeping in it, but you knew that bed had been through more than just sleeping. You never thought you’d feel bad for a mattress and some sheets.

Before you know it, you’re traveling towards his desk, which was white (everything was very randomly assorted). You nibble on your bottom lip, debating on if it’s worth digging through the four drawers to find the one thing that’s been nagging you for months.

The list.

Something deep inside of you is warning you that searching through his belongings is a bad idea, but there’s really nothing that stops you from pulling open the first compartment. Carefully, you shift around the assortment of pens and pencils until you admit there’s nothing but those in there. Moving on to the second drawer below the first, it’s extremely heavy. Then you realize the weight is from three hefty textbooks that look completely untouched.

Makes sense.

In the next top drawer, there’s nothing useful beside clean, unused binder paper. Losing all hopes of being right, you check the final drawer. Just in case.

You didn’t know what you were going to find inside of there. But whatever you may have thought, it wasn’t this.

In the deep compartment was a bunch of clothes. Women’s clothes. A few shirts, even some socks, but mainly bras and panties. You almost touched them to sift through it, but immediately retracted your hand before doing so, assuming these articles haven’t been cleaned. Your face is frozen in disgust at the pile as if your gaze is going to burn all of it away.

“I thought it would take a lot more work to get you into my bedroom,” A deep accent says, causing you to jot and slam the drawer closed.

From your crouch, you fall to the ground, heart racing erratically at the sight of Tom. Every nerve of your body was screaming in alert because you thought you were alone. Layers of goosebumps litter your skin when you visually take in his appearance; frizzy, damp hair, dark blue briefs, and a white towel draped over his buff shoulder. You swallow every bit of your saliva and leave your mouth completely dry as your eyes shamefully trail down his entire physique.

It’s not like he’s trying to hide anything.

“It’s a bit rude to stare, yeah?” he ticks, using the towel to dry his hair a bit more. His briefs were a little tight, and you wondered if they were the wrong size. Especially from your seat on the floor, you got the perfect view of his bulge outline. Your stomach burned and your eyes couldn’t stop blinking, trying to make the image go away, but it didn’t. It was real. At this point, he’s basically just giving you a free show. You mentally hated yourself for enjoying every second of it.

Stop it. Now, how are you going to get out of this?

“What were you looking for?” Tom asks almost innocently with a lick of his pink lips, trying to hold back a little smirk. Tom liked watching you snap, but he loved when you were flustered. He loves watching you get embarrassed because you feel hot all over. It’s a sight to see.

“Something to get you arrested,” You reply just as lightly, trying to hide your startledness before awkwardly pushing yourself on your feet. You try to keep your eyes away from him, but it’s difficult when his body is practically glistening in all its chiseled glory.

“Like what? A gun?” he jokes with a charming smile, slowly striding closer to you. Your breathing staggered a tad, but you kept your composure. Mostly.

He honestly looked like he had a gun in his briefs.

He laughs.

“I hope you know it’s not a gun, princess,” That lingering smirk is plastered on his arrogant face again and you wanted to punch it off of him. You couldn’t believe yourself for thinking out loud, especially because it was the last thing you wanted him to hear. You knew it was only an ego-booster. Your entire body flushes in overwhelming heat, wondering how you’re ever going to escape his looming presence.

“I-I obviously know that’s not a gun, Thomas,” You grind your molars at your stuttering because it makes you look and sound weak. Your trembling fingers turn into heated fists that have been ignited by only one thing; your arousal.

“Thomas? That’s a new one,” While you’re stuck in place, Tom doesn’t shy away from inching closer towards you. You don’t even realize it, but you’re holding your breath. “Are you okay, Y/N? You look a bit…flushed.”

Your heart unconsciously stammers against your chest, attempting to find an outlet. But there is none. Just like there is no escape from Tom as he stands in front of you unmoving. He’s so close, impossibly so, that your pounding heart is lurching towards his.

“It’s…hot in here,” You reply with an observation. Your voice was whispering as if your voice was afraid to speak any louder. With his proximity he could probably hear every heated pump of your blood.

“Like the song,” Tom smirks because he knows the real reason why you’re all hot and bothered. It’s something deeper than the temperature of his bedroom (because it really wasn’t that warm). “You know it, right?”

“Yeah, who doesn’t?” You almost roll your eyes before you stop yourself.

“Remind me, what’s the next lyric?”

A wave of heat crashes over your neck at his words, deep and low. Your stomach was burning with desire while your clit was throbbing in your underwear. You never would have thought that you’d be turned on by Tom, but you were doing only the impossible today.

Escaping this situation has left your mind. The only thing in your head now is staying in it.

“Take off all your clothes,” A breathless sound wavers out of your throat and you’re surprised you were even able to respond. Tom’s face is smug, almost proud at how flushed you are. His hand reaches up and ever-so delicately traces over your jawline. It was so gentle, but because he was finally touching you, you nearly moaned. You’ve never needed someone so badly before, and you never thought the person you’d be needing the most would be Tom.

You keep thinking that, but it’s just so hard to comprehend the idea of anything Tom.

“Is that something you want?” Tom’s husky voice fans over your heated skin as his fingers trail down your neck. Your chest raises up and down, and even if you’re trying to fight the feeling, you can’t. Your entire body wants him–no, damn-near craves him–to the point where you can’t even speak. Your subconsciousness hates you because you know how much he is just loving this. You hate to give him such satisfaction. “D’you want to strip? Right here in front of me? Or do you want me to do it for you? Because–”

“Yes,” You whisper with your eyes facing his chest, too afraid to stare into his lust-taken eyes.

“No,” he says, and for a moment when he took a breath, you thought he’d just rejected you. “I need to hear you say it all. I need to hear you tell me what you want. Tell me how bad you want it. I bet I can give it to you. I’ve been waiting long enough.”

His words practically made you a puddle at his feet, but they also made you want to slap him with those heavy textbooks until he learned some manners. Has he really been waiting for you? Or is that just another one of his lines? One that he uses on every single girl he gets in his bed?

Your mind might have cared at any other time, but your body overruled.

“I want…” Your mind was filled with so many possibilities, it was crowding your brain. Tom’s hand that was tracing your jawline then cupped your neck gently, causing you to sigh. You couldn’t resist swallowing all of your saliva again along with your pride. Because you were about to do something really stupid. If you were in a clear mindset, this would have never happened, you’re sure of it. But common sense isn’t here to guide you right now; only desire and lust. “I want you to fuck me, Tom. Hard. Harder than you’ve ever fucked anybody before.”

“Not quite what I was looking for, but I’ll get you there.”

Tom doesn’t hesitate to wrap his hand completely around your neck while crashing his lips to yours. They mush together so sloppily, you could barely call it a kiss. But, damn, did it feel good. Fire and passion laced your lips, and it was so intoxicating that you thought you would overdose on his euphoria. Your mind couldn’t even react properly while your body was going haywire. One of your hands snaked up to the nape of his neck while the other was squeezing his naked bicep tightly.

The proximity of your bodies was about to make you pass out from a heat stroke.

In the misty moment, he leads you towards the bed. If you’d known better, you would have pushed him and told him to fuck off because he would not get to sleep with you. But you didn’t know better. Matter of fact, the only thing you knew right now was Tom Tom Tom.

When your knees hit the edge of the mattress, your body goes tumbling backwards, causing your heart to race even more than it had been. You break the kiss in a gasp, but Tom doesn’t let you fall too far, holding you securely with one hand on your waist and the other on your neck.

“Already falling for me. It’s a bit soon, yeah?” Tom flirts condescendingly with a single chuckle, standing on the edge after dropping you onto the bed. Good, you thought. You didn’t want delicacy anymore. You wanted roughness. You couldn’t allow yourself to be sweet and intimate with Tom. Not if you didn’t want to fall in love with him or get attached.

Not that that was possible.

“Fuck you.”

“I’m trying to, princess,” Even with the insult, his smirk lingers on like a tattoo. Although you despise that ridiculous nickname, your body didn’t care. When the word rolled off his tongue, your stomach erupted in needy desire and your cunt clenched around nothing. Tom isn’t new to a woman’s arousal. He knows when someone is turned on. It appears in their voice, their body obviously, but always in their eyes. And that lust was laced within you: in your voice, body, and eyes.

“You’re loving this, aren’t you?” he taunts, hovering over your trembling body while your mind still tries to come to terms with what the fuck is happening.

“Of course not,” You grumble, but it comes out all quiet.

“Keep tellin’ yourself that. Maybe you’ll be surprised,” he infamously winks before traveling down your neck in harsh kisses. You try to withhold the whimpers he’s causing because it's impossible with the amount of pleasure you’re feeling.

Kneeling on both sides of you, Tom’s hands weave their way under your top, exploring your torso mindlessly. His palms are heavy and rough, the only type you wanted to feel when it came to him. You were wearing a simple bralette that you would feel his fingers trace over impatiently.

“Take it off,” You moaned when he nimbled a bit hard behind your ear. You felt him breathe a chuckle, and you just knew he was smirking. As per usual.

“That’s not very nice,” Tom tsks, halting all his movements and hovering over your flushed face. You were in a daze and he hasn’t even done anything yet. Your core was on fire waiting desperately to be taken care of by the so-called “sex god.”

“I didn’t want it to be,” Grumbling, you grind on your teeth again in impatience. “This was a mistake–”

In complete irritation, despite your body’s desires, you force yourself to sit up. However, Tom does not let that slide. Within seconds your arms are being pinned above your head and he is straddling your hips snuggly. There was no escaping him.

In this position, you could feel his bulge barely pressing against your lower tummy. The thickness nearly made you moan because you were so desperate for it, but God knows you would never get on your knees and beg for it. That’s the last thing you’ll ever do, especially for someone like Tom.

“Slow down there, princess. We haven’t even started yet, and you’re already trying to do the walk of shame.”

“Because you’re being an asshole!”

“I just wanted you to say please, princess,” Tom says innocently, but the most devilish smile rises upon his lips. It��s cruel how contradicting the two are, but you loved it. It spiraled you on even more. “Now, I don’t really care what you say.”

Following his word, Tom didn’t listen to a single word you said. Even though they only consisted of calling him a dickhead, asshole, and fucker, but that’s not the point. Before you know it, your clothes are stripped completely from you and you’re basically in the same predicament as Tom. He clips off your bralette and hastily rips it from your body, tossing it to some unknown place on his surprisingly well-kept floor.

Your breath hinges at the new vulnerability. Tom licks his lips lustfully at the sight of your near-naked body, but doesn’t say anything. No two-cented comment or some witted joke. Nope. Nothing. Something inside of you tingled.

His aggressive hands roughly massaged your breasts. He twisted and flicked your nipples with no care in the world, and that’s just how you liked it. You released a breathy moan when your nipples reached their peak, but he didn’t stop his miniature torture. Mindlessly, you bucked your hips up, right into him.

“Getting off just from some nipple play? God, you must be desperate,” Tom dryly chuckles.

“Shut up,” You groan when his mouth latches onto your raw nipple, intensifying the pain and pleasure that’s firing up in your body.

Tom’s wandering tongue finally makes it down to your underwear, which is soaked through with your arousal. You’re embarrassed to discover his reaction because you know it’s only going to make him even more air-headed than he already is. Your legs are tightly closed, but you widen them just a tad more. Tom isn’t having it.

“Open. I want to see what I do to you.”

You swear your heart skipped a beat because you nearly fucking died right there. Annoyingly obeying him, you open your legs more, giving him more access to your vulnerability. Also, giving him more ammunition to use to make fun of you. You knew for a fact that you would regret all of this in the future, but right now, for some fucking reason, you didn’t give a damn.

“Fuck,” Tom growled so low that you almost didn’t hear him. His face was now so close to you that you could practically feel his grumble vibrate through your thighs and straight to your cunt. “This is what I do to you? This whole time? And you’ve been running away…how selfish of you. To keep this from me.”

“I’m selfish? You are definitely the last person that’s–” The power of your words are cut short when he slides down your panties without hesitation. “–able to say that.”

“How about you stop saying stuff and let me get on with it?”

“Oh, please! Like I’m the one that’s stopping you.”

“Look who learned how to say please,” he smirks, hands prying open your thighs even wider than before. You inhale sharply as your cunt opens completely for him, dripping in your arousal. “Now, shut the fuck up unless you’re crying my name. Got it, princess?”

In the midst of an eyeroll, Tom places his mouth onto your clit. Places might be the wrong word. He latched his mouth hungrily onto you, like he would starve if he didn’t have you right now. Your eyes squeeze shut in shock, trying to decipher the incredible feeling of his mouth on you. Slurping and licking, Tom devours you whole and you can’t stop your body from squirming all over the place from the overwhelming euphoria.

To make you even more insane and to make you lose a bit more of your brain cells, Tom slyly slips one of his fingers in your cunt. It was undeniably soaking, so he slid it in easily. His pace is rigorous, thrusting in and out while sucking harshly on your clit.

Like Tom had requested, you were moaning. At first, it was just a few noises, but then, it turned into his name. The only word you seemed to know was Tom as you wailed and cried from his attack on your cunt. Even as your hips bucked into his face, he held you securely down with his forearm and continued to ram into you until you eventually came.

When you came, it was like you were hit by a freight train. Your orgasm slammed over you so powerfully that you saw stars for a moment. Oh, and you squirted, which you’ve never done before. Your wetness dripped down Tom’s face, and it was kind of funny to you, even if you felt a little bad about it (not really). But Tom had that tattooed-smirk on his face that let you know he was enjoying himself too much. Conceited as always.

“Didn’t know you were a squirter,” Tom wipes away your orgasm with his shower towel while your entire face goes hot again.

“Neither did I.”

“First time? What a pleasure.”

“Oh, shut up,” You roll your eyes, forgetting that he actually likes that. He smiles, but hides it with a smirk. Then Tom pulls down his tight briefs. Looking at his equipment, you nearly choked. It was thick and veiny, and the tip was an angry pink.

You wanted him inside of you, but if this was going to be the only time you do this, might as well get your fill.

“Actually,” You start, heart thumping rapidly. “Can I…”

You didn’t even really ask, you just slowly lowered yourself onto the floor. Tom didn’t stop you, just watched as you kneeled. Your eyes flickered from his eyes to his cock, waiting for him to terminate your movements.

“I’d never say no to a blowjob, princess.”

Rolling your eyes, your warm fingertips rub over his leaking slit. He hisses at the sudden contact, but moans gutturally when your tongue touches him. You lick up his shaft, soaking the entire surface with your saliva. Tom’s hefty hands find themselves tangled in your hair, using it for balance.

Once you take him deeper into your mouth, the urge to pump himself down your throat gets tougher. You hollow out your cheeks, slurping up and down until your face is burning. With confidence, you push him lower down your throat until you gag around his length.

“Fuck, you take me so well,” he groans, his sounds echoing on his blue walls. His stomach contracts, abs tensing as he senses his high approaching.

A few tears twinkle in your eyes, and to kill Tom even more, you decide to stare up at him through your lashes. Your expression appears innocent, but he knows you’re anything but with the way you’re taking his cock amazingly.

When Tom can’t restrain himself anymore, his hips start bucking into your face. He feels you moan against him even if he caught you off guard, sending a wave of vibration through his whole body euphorically. His grip on your hair tightens while the tears that were brimming your eyes start to fall down like a waterfall.

The picture of you crying while his cock was shoved down your throat was enough to get him off through the rest of college. Maybe even the rest of his 20s. You wanted it rough, and you took him like a champ.

With your fingernails digging into his thighs, Tom was sure to come soon. And in the next few moments, he did. He was so blindsided that he didn’t warn you, didn’t tell you to get off of him so you didn’t choke on his cum. But then, you swallowed him without any hesitation.

Tom was nearly hard again because of it.

His remaining orgasm leaked from the corners of your lips, which you wiped away with the towel on the bed. Tom was trying to not appear dumbstruck while you were trying to rid the tears from your face, even though you were almost positive that Tom got off on them.

You had done a lot of blowjobs and deepthroating throughout your college years because again, men aren’t too nice or generous. You just so happen to be both.

As you stand up from the ground, Tom doesn’t wait to push you onto the mattress again.

“That was…” he starts before groaning quietly. Was he reliving it? “I need to be deep inside of your cunt.”

You blinked at the suddenness of his words. He couldn’t give you a single compliment? At this point, you weren’t going to waste anymore time fighting about it. Looking at his cock, he was basically hard again. That seemed like a compliment in itself. His angry tip and thick veins looked like if he knew how to use his dick, it could potentially destroy you. Isn’t that what you wanted, though?

Hell yes.

“Get on with it then,” You pressed, trying to widen your legs a bit more. After your first orgasm and Tom’s, you’re not as shaky as you’d been in the beginning. You got some of your wits back.

“Impatient much? Didn’t the palace ever teach you manners?” Tom jokes with a knowing smirk before hovering over you. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes irritatingly at his extra comment. His cock thumped over your clit a few times, causing you to gasp at the weighted feeling. You didn’t even know he had put a condom on, but the texture of his cock felt like latex, so you assumed.

Even though you told him to get on with it, he doesn’t. Tom’s lips kiss and bite your neck while he continuously slaps your clit with his heavy cock. Whimpers elicited from your mouth at the friction; it wasn’t a lot, but you were still sensitive from your last orgasm. Every time his dick hit the hood of your clit, shots of electricity fired inside of you.

“T-Tom!” You shouted annoyed, attempting to get his attention. But of course, your voice came out as a wavering moan and you saw his ego fly into the sky like a rocket. You can never win, can you? “Can you just fuck me already? What’s with all the foreplay?”

“Can you just shut the fuck up?” Tom stops all of his movements and grasps your throat in his hand. You glare into his blackened-eyes with an angered lust that he’s never seen before. But he likes it. He really likes it. “I’ll fuck you. Yeah, and I’ll keep fucking you until I’m done.”

His last words come out as a growl, one that was so primal and aggressive, you couldn’t stop the arousal that leaked from you. Finally, Tom pushes himself inside of you with no mercy.

Tom’s fingers are still wrapped around your throat, his pressure on and off so you get a millisecond to breathe. His cock slams into you at a meticulous and quick pace. Even with the condom on, you can feel every inch of his length sliding through you like it was raw.

You couldn’t even imagine how good it would feel if it was raw.

With no warning, Tom begins to flick his hips up into you. A broken croak elicits from your trapped throat while your cunt squeezes his cock harshly.

“Fuckin’ love this, aren’t you? Love how I fuck you? Love how I talk to you like you’re nothing?” His voice is guttural and low, laced with lust and degradation. “You’re just a hole f’me. A hole so fucking tight I can barely get my big cock through.”

You hate how egotistical he is, but your core is still on fire with every one of his words. He releases pressure on your throat for a bit longer, and you cry out in moans. His now free hand gropes your breast, slapping and twisting the nipple without care. Your back arched so aggressively, you thought you might cramp up.

Tom rammed into you like there was no tomorrow. His balls slammed against you while his light pubic hair tickled your clit and gave you just a bit more stimulation. Everything was making you float. Your body was just taking everything he was giving you and you were loving it. All the other times you’ve had sex they were gentle and sweet, but now, you’ve realized that it was just boring.

Tom somehow manages to curve his cock inside of you in such a way that it hits you in the perfect spot. A scream of his name flies out of your mouth before you clench snuggly around his shaft again. His name is the only thing your lips know.

“Daddy! Fuck,” You gasp at your own words, the title just slipping out. Your hand covers your mouth in a haste, shutting yourself up before you say anything else. Your eyes screw shut in embarrassment, hoping he didn’t hear you. But it was hard not to when you fucking screamed it. The neighbors probably heard you.

When you got too deep into it, you tended to say things like that. However, you’re usually able to compose yourself before you let it slip. But the way Tom is absolutely destroying you gives you no time to think, no time to do anything but feel.

“Of course, you’re fucking filthy. If I knew you were such a slut, I would’ve made you beg for my cock,” Tom growls in your neck, pounding into you with no remorse. Your mind is in a haze and your body is still on fire from embarrassment and passion. You tried your hardest to hold in your moans after satisfying him with that title, but Tom won’t let you.

He rips your hand away from your mouth, and for leverage, you instantly grip onto his shoulders. With each hostile thrust, your nails dig deeper into his skin, creating red curves all over him. Somewhere inside of you felt a sense of pride because you know that there will be marks later on. Is this what Tom feels like all the time?

Your cunt clutches his dick again, but this time your orgasm is near. Your hand travels down in between you two to rub your clit, but Tom beats you to it. His rough fingertips violently circle the little nub, sending your eyes rolling backwards. When you feel his pace slowing just a tad, you assume that he’s just as close.

“Daddy,” You mewl, scratching his arm as your hips thrust up towards his. Yeah, you were pretty deep.

But so was he.

“Know you’re close, baby. Feel you squeezin’ m’cock,” Tom grumbles gravely in your ear, and his voice sends a tingle down your arched spine. Although it was rough and raggedy, it was the softest he’s been to you all night. “Come, right fucking now, princess.”

Yeah, you might despise him outside of the bedroom, and maybe a little bit in it, but who are you to disobey such a thing?

Your entire body tenses and your heart stops. You don’t even feel yourself breathing as your orgasm washes over you like a never-ending tsunami. Your brain is overwhelmingly fuzzy, your breasts are sore, and your cunt is aching from all it. But you loved every bit of it. It was something you didn’t know you wanted, but when you got it, it changed your views and feelings on everything.

Sliding in and out of you slickly, Tom comes soon after you with a string of profanities falling from his pretty lips. Even if he was conceited, he was a striking man. His body was hand-crafted by God in addition to going to the gym every day. When his muscles contracted over you, you couldn’t stop fawning over him. And his face was remarkable, it was unfair how someone could be given so many good social-standard genes. You wished you could say it was all a rumor. But it was hard to insult his looks when everything he gloated about was true. It was just annoying that he was aware of it.

Funny, right?

“Y/N,” Tom repeated your name over you, hoping you would wake up in the present moment. You were clearly in your head and Tom was a little concerned to say the least. Maybe he sleeps with a bunch of different women and maybe he’s arrogant, but that doesn’t mean he’s heartless.

Blinking several times, you snap out of whatever mindless daze you’ve been in. He’d already thrown away the condom and put on some boxers, not briefs. He gently wiped any excess orgasm away with his towel, your body subtly squirming from the stimulation. When Tom finally sees you coming to your senses, he slowly leans away from you, assuming you want space.

“Wait,” You find yourself saying without knowing what you want him to wait for. When his body rose from yours, you felt cold. It was so uncomforting, knowing that you’ve been so warm this entire time. Tom stares down at your naked body and watches goosebumps fan your skin. Your nipples pebble and stomach contracts. You feel so vulnerable.

“What?” Tom asks a little breathily, one arm holding himself up for balance. He couldn’t really say anything else. For the first time in a while, he’s completely starstruck by you. Your bare figure with your lion-like frizz of hair on his bed, tangled in his blue sheets is a sight he’ll never unsee. He honestly thinks he needs a moment to collect himself before staring at your beauty again.

Have you always been this beautiful?

“It’s…cold.”

“Now, it’s cold? I’m not the weatherman, princess,” Tom smiles like a child with a slight tilt. Your eyes roll like usual, but a smile is tugging at your lips this time. “Maybe you should put some clothes on.”

“Maybe you should shut up,” You retaliate, pushing yourself up. You’re face to face with Tom, merely inches away from each other.

“I love when you fight me,” he compliments, moving his head in little shakes like he adores you. Your heart skipped a beat at his words.

“Why? Because I put you in your place?”

“Something like that,” Tom sits next to you on the bed while you wrap yourself in his sheets. You really didn’t feel like wandering around the entire room completely naked with his eyes watching you. “Also, what were you looking for earlier? I know it wasn’t a gun.”

That familiar wave of heat flushes your skin and your mouth gets all dry. Are you sweating?

“Pfft, I don’t even remember. Must have slipped my mind,” Out of all the things you could have said, you decided to act stupid. Good going.

“C’mon, it can’t be that bad. I’ve probably heard worse,” Your wide eyes meet his, full of embarrassment. “Yeah, I’m assuming it’s some rumor thing you heard, right?”

“Yeah…”

“Tell me.” You’ve already had sex with him, and that’s the lowest you could go. So, it can’t be worse than that.

“I was looking for the list.”

“Not even a list but the list? Must be some pretty special list,” he smirks with an arrogant lick of his lips. One of your hands rubs your arm for comfort while you explain the entirety of what you’ve heard. It took a few minutes, but Tom was listening to every word. He nodded along with a sly smirk on his lips.

“So, it’s a list of all the people I want to sleep with. Is this list in order?” Out of all the questions he could have asked, that’s what he said? Maybe he is completely conceited.

“I guess so. I assumed you could rearrange it if you’d like.”

“Are the women rated?”

“What? That’s disgusting!” Physically writing down how well someone was at sex was pathetic to you. But the curious cat in your mind was wondering one thing:

What would Tom rate you?

“Well, if I had a list, you’d probably be near the top.”

There is no fucking way you said that out loud.

“You did, though,” Tom laughs while your fists clench his sheets embarrassingly. You fall backwards onto the mattress, covering your face with the bedding.

Why are you still in his room? Why have you not felt the urge to flee yet?

Your skin was burning from embarrassment and your heart was beating sporadically, but your breathing was steady and your mind was decently clear. So, why were you still lying in Tom Holland’s bed naked without a single thought of leaving? Did you…like it?

Or maybe because you have no way home and what’s the rush?

“Hey,” Tom says while you’re still beneath the covers. “Are you still cold?”

“Yes,” You mumble quietly.

“Do you…want to take a bath? Or a shower if that’s weird–” Your head slowly peeks out from the navy blue, finding Tom’s wandering eyes. His large hand was scratching the back of his curly head. A single tingle shot through your body, making you a degree warmer. It was the first time you’ve seen him even a little bit unsure of himself, and that made you smile. Just a tad because it let you know that maybe you’ve made him snap out of whatever bubble he lives in. Even just for a moment.

Discarding the sheet, you sit up on your knees at the edge of the bed. Like before, you’re face to face with Tom, and you can see the struggle in his eyes to not look down at your bare breasts. It nearly makes you break out into a fit of laughter, but you carry on.

“I’ll go with the bath,” You whisper seductively and don’t hide the way you stare down at his pink lips. You couldn’t help it. They just look so kissable.

What is wrong with you!

“I’ll, uh, leave you to it then,” Tom coughs awkwardly. He’s never been like this before. He’s good with the flirting, seducing, foreplay, sex, and even the aftermath of leaving right after. But the second it even gets remotely romantic or intimate, he shuts it down quickly before anything else can happen. Though right now, he’s the one who made it sweet and offered you a bath. A bath is cute and domestic, which is so unlike Tom. He would have never offered something like that before, especially with no one home. He should’ve just kicked you out.

What’s different?

“Oh,” You look at the floor in pretend disappointment. Just to note, you’re still completely naked, standing in front of his bathroom door. You’re so glad he has his own bathroom. “You don’t want to join me?”

Tom blinks, wondering if you’re being serious. He never thought you out of all people would want to have sex in the bathtub, let alone with him. He swallows, trying to keep his cool.

“Yeah, obviously, I was just letting you get a headstart,” Tom rapidly removes his boxers while you strut into the bathroom, shaking your ass in your trail. Streaks of curses leave his mouth while he slams the door closed, not forgetting to lock it.

For the record, the rumor was true; Tom did have a list. It was in a spot he knew no one would check; his textbooks in his desk drawer. A single sheet of paper that has a list of the girls he’s been with and the ones he wants to be with. It’s crazy how such a rumor was developed when no one knew about the list except for himself.

Yes, it was listed in order and he reorganized it whenever he needed to. That’s what erasers are for. He writes it in pencil because nothing is set in stone. It’s honestly hard for him to remember who’s in his top five right now. Yeah, Tom sounds like a complete douchebag, but he didn’t really care.

Tom said that your name would be “near the top” if he had a list. What a liar he is.

Ever since he met you, you’ve been the first on his list. You’re the only name that hasn’t been erased since he wrote it his junior year. Also, you’re the only person who has a little note on the side of her name:

1. Y/N Y/L/N -The one

Tom had a feeling that he won’t have to write any names down, or even need the paper anymore. Even if he never had a list to begin with, he would have never needed one to remember you.

—

i hope you guys liked this i worked hard!! likes, comments, and reblogs are all appreciated <3

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#shawnxstyles #tom holland #tom holland smut #tom holland fan fiction #tom holland fanfic #tom holland one shot #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #enemies to lovers #tom holland daddy kink #frat tom holland

[marvelwitchergilmore]

A Moment Of Everything

Summary: Peter Parker x Fe!Reader -> You and Peter have never gotten along, but can two nights in Florence change things for good?

Disclaimer: Swearing, fluff, angst. Mentions of blood and wounds. I was watching The Proposal last night and got inspired. Enemies to Lovers. See this for whichever Spider-Man you wish. HAPPY NEW YEAR!

You knew things had to change eventually. 

Yourself and Peter couldn’t go your whole lives hating one another. 

You just didn’t expect it to change quite so much. 

It had all started one night when you were on a mission with each other. 

Two days in Florence, Italy. You were both sent to monitor a suspect. And, like usual, Peter was off with you. He didn’t seem too happy about having to share a bed at the hotel. And, even though he didn’t particularly like talking to you, he would still do it. Only, that night, he didn’t. 

When he didn’t have to talk to you, he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t even look at you. 

So, the night before you were expected to fly back home, you called him out on it. 

He didn’t listen to you. He simply walked away from you. He followed the guy and you had to go with his plan. Whatever his plan was, you had to guess. 

Only, the suspect got away. 

“We’ll find him again.”

Peter just grunted. 

“Peter.”

Nothing. 

“Peter!”

Again, nothing.

“Jesus Fucking Christ! Peter!” He finally slowed down and looked at you. “What the hell is your fucking problem?! I get you don’t like me, but we’re meant to be together in this!”

“We are together in this.”

You couldn’t help but scoff. “Bull-shit. You have done nothing but ignore me this entire trip. If you have a problem with me, you can just say it. Where are you going now? Or am I not allowed to know that either.”

“Back to the hotel. Not like you’d tell me.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

You tried running to catch up with him. 

“Nothing.”

“No, go ahead. Tell me.”

Soon enough you both made it back to the hotel and inside the room before the conversation continued. 

“Tell me, Peter. I can take it.”

“No, you can’t.”

“You don’t know me-”

“You’re right! I don’t!” Peter turned around and looked at you, forcing you to stop in your tracks. 

“I don’t know you! I don’t know anything about you! Because you don’t share anything.”

“Well, excuse me for wanting to keep my life a little private.”

“A little?!” Peter raised his eyebrows and scoffed. “A little private is not telling your co-workers where you're going when you say you’re going on holiday. A little private is not showing them a thousand pictures of your new puppy. Your life is anything but a little private.”

Clearly, he had more to say so you waited. And you didn’t have to wait long. 

Sighing, Peter rubbed his forehead for a moment before looking back at you. 

“I have known you for almost ten years and you have told me less than three things about yourself. And yet, an hour before we leave to come here, Hank from the Biology lab does…what? Flirts with you for five minutes, tells you his coffee order and you’re practically marrying the guy!”

“Peter, that’s none- Is this what has been bothering you since we left? This?! Just because I decided to talk to a guy and tell him about my day…why does it bother you so much that I don’t talk about myself?”

“Because I am meant to be your teammate. You have known me for almost ten years and never once have I hid anything from you. We are meant to trust one another. It doesn’t matter if you don’t like me or if I didn’t like you, what matters is that you trust me, and that I trust you. This partnership is meant to go both ways.”

You didn’t know what to say. You just kept looking at Peter. It looked like the world had been lifted off his shoulders whilst he also started beating himself up over what he just said. His chest was heaving and for a moment, you thought he was gonna walk towards you but instead, he took a step back. 

“I’m going for a shower.”

When the door closed behind him, it took you a moment to gather yourself. 

You couldn’t deny that he had a point. Maybe you hadn’t told him as much as you could have done, especially for being teammates for almost a full decade. But it wasn’t like he didn’t have his faults in it, too. 

Maybe instead of ignoring you and only talking to you when he needed to, you might have warmed to him more rather than seen him as a stand-offish person who you would trust to save your life, but wouldn’t trust to put it on the edge first. 

After twenty minutes, Peter emerged from the bathroom, freshly washed, clothed and ready for bed. He put away his dirty clothes and put his wash bag back in his bag before climbing under the covers that lay at the bottom of the bed. 

He hadn’t said anything when you both arrived at the hotel late at night. Just took some sheets out of the cupboard and put them on the floor. When you entered the room, you said he was being ridiculous.

He just said the bed was too soft for him and that he wouldn’t sleep. 

After an hour of back and forth over you telling him just to get into the bed, since it was big enough for a family of five, never mind two, he still decided to stay on the floor. 

As you lay in bed, listening to the distant noises of the city, you tossed and turned before settling on your back. But you still couldn’t sleep. 

Then you heard Peter. 

He was tossing and turning, too. 

Eventually, you heard him sigh in annoyance of sleep not taking over him. 

So, wrestling with your own mind, you spoke up. 

“I like Greek Mythology.”

A few seconds passed and then; “What?”

You faltered for a moment before speaking up again. 

“I-I like Greek Mythology. I always have.” you said before explaining, taking your time. “When I was five, my grandmother gave me some of her old books. In the pile was a kids illustrated version of Greek Gods and Goddesses. I was obsessed. And I mean, obsessed.” 

You laughed a little as you explained your obsession with Greek Mythology to him. Meanwhile, from the floor and out of sight from you, he smiled. He couldn’t even think of when he’d heard a smile in your voice. Never mind a laugh. 

It was once of the sweetest sounds he’d ever heard. 

“For three halloween’s in a row, I went as a different Goddess.”

You fell silent for a moment in the memory before you started to speak again. 

“I hate coffee. I try it once every year and it’s always the same. Absolutely disgusting.” you chuckled a little. “I spent every summer away from home at Camp where I ran a book club. I watch Rom-Coms when I’m sad because they make me feel better. My favourite flowers are blue tulips. I don’t watch thrillers because they remind me too much of work. And, I haven’t told anyone this much…ever.”

Only as you finished did you realise how much you had told him. And you felt a pang of anxiety in the pit of your stomach as Peter remained silent. 

“Are you still there?”

Peter swallowed thickly and nodded his head, despite the fact you couldn’t see him. “Y-yeah. I’m here. Just…processing.”

“Okay.”

That conversation had been just over eight months before you got a knock at your apartment window one evening. 

You had taken a couple weeks off work since you hadn’t taken any vacation days…ever. Barton had practically banned you from the building for two weeks. 

The rain had been pouring over the city and, with all your work finished, you had rushed out and got some supplies before sitting in front of your TV, watching one of the many rom-coms your DVD collection provided before pulling a few books from your shelves and reading through them. 

At some point, you had fallen asleep, still fully dressed, under your blankets, listening to the quiet silence of your apartment as the rain hit the windows outside. 

Only, rather than continuing to sleep throughout the night, you heard a continuous tapping. 

So, leaning up with tired eyes, you looked around. The loose braid you had stuck your hair in had fallen out, your bobble being lost between the cushions somewhere.

The apartment was shrouded in darkness, save for the street lights outside still lighting small sections of your apartment.

Along came more tapping until finally you turned towards the sash window that lay by the fire escape. 

You furrowed your eyebrows as you saw him through tired eyes. 

Making your way over, you pushed the window open and Peter made his way inside. 

“Sorry for waking you.”

You just grumbled and closed the window to stop the rain from flying in, though it didn’t stop the small puddle made by Peter who was practically soaked to the bone from the rain. 

“Ah, so this is who I lost you to.” Peter said with a slight smirk as he spotted one of your Mythology books. 

“Barton said I was banished from HQ until my vacation days were finished. What are you doing here at this time of night? What even is the time?”

“I didn’t know where to go, and you’re the only one who I trust to do the job well.”

“What job?”

Finally looking at Peter, you saw it. 

His body, and his clothes, were splattered with blood. You couldn’t tell how much of it was his and how much of it could be somebody else's. 

“You didn’t kill anyone did you?”

“No.” Peter answered. “They’re alright, just at the police station getting booked.”

You sighed as you took in even more of his wounds. “Alright. Meet me in the bathroom in two minutes. Give me your jacket.”

Peter removed it and you took it from him, including his grey hoodie. 

“Bathroom?”

“Down the hall and to the right.”

Peter nodded and walked down whilst you headed into the kitchen and shoved his jackets into the washing machine and pressed start. Then, from the top cupboard, you pulled down your first-aid kit that contained everything from princess plasters, from when you had been looking after your neighbour's kid for two days, to a stitching kit.

Twenty minutes later, you had a basin full of warm, blood stained water, a once-clean face cloth covered in stains of blood and a grown Avenger sat on the edge of your bathtub, wincing every now and again and you cleaned him up. 

“Remind me again why you came to me?”

You turned Peter’s head to face over your right shoulder as you cleaned a graze and cut just above his eyebrow. 

“Because I trust you. And I didn’t feel like getting another lecture from Laura.”

“Ah,” you nodded and Peter laughed a little. 

Then he hissed. 

“Sorry, I'm almost finished with this one.”

“It’s okay.” Peter flicked his gaze to you a couple of times. “T-thank you for doing this.”

“What else would I have done? Kicked you back out of the window?”

“You could have done it. I did wake you up. Clearly I didn't learn my lesson from the first time.”

You chuckled. “Yeah, I guess I did nearly beat you up.”

What Peter meant was just over two months ago. You had both become friends of sorts. But, you had fallen asleep at your lab desk one night and Peter came in to wake you up and you nearly cursed him out so much that you even had him convinced he was an intruder trying to break into your home. 

“But, if you hadn’t come to me, I probably would have cursed you out when I found out, anyway.”

“Found out?”

“You can’t hide anything from me, Peter. I know everything,” you joked. 

“But do you?”

Peter’s question slipped from his tongue before he could stop himself, but you didn’t know what to do. So, your eyes turned from his and you tried your best to remain calm until you saw a large spot of blood coming through his black t-shirt. 

You tried your best to get to the wound that was beneath it without him removing his shirt, but you both knew it was no use. 

So, awkwardly asking him, he stood and you looked to him only to find him looking back. 

Slowly, he removed his shirt, trying his best not to stain the rest of his body from the blood you had just cleaned away and for a moment, you were met with his body in front of you. 

Most of the blood was coming from that one wound but the top of his arms now showed a little bruising, as well as his torso, though it was more healed than you thought it would have been. 

Finding yourself staring for a little too long, you forced your gaze back to his face where he’d removed the shirt from over his head and lowered himself back down onto the edge of the tub, opening up his legs for you to stand between them once more. 

Though, it was in that moment that you realised how close you had been standing to him this entire time. 

“Th-This might sting a little.”

Peter nodded and you watched as he clenched his jaw and tried to suppress the grunt that tried to escape from him as you cleaned out the wound. 

“You might need some stitches.” you mentioned. “I can do them here, though they might not be Laura standard.”

“I think I’ll survive.”

You nodded and tried your best to ignore the fact that Peter was looking at you as you looked for your stitching kit and began working. 

In your peripheral vision, you could see some of his bruises already starting to heal, though some might take more than a couple hours.

Even with his adapted DNA. 

“If you want, you can stay here for the night. I have a spare set of pyjamas if you need them.”

“You sure they’ll be my size?”

You laughed a little. “My, uh, my neighbour gave them to me. She bought a set for her husband but when they came they were too big for him. She told me to keep them in case I ever had someone…stay the night. They might be too big for you, too but they have a drawstring so…”

“Okay.”

You looked at him for a split second and then looked back to his wound with a small nod. 

Soon enough you finished and stepped back to grab the face cloth before dipping it into a fresh basin of warm water to clean off the rest of his wounds that would heal soon enough. 

“Thank you.”

“Anytime.”

As you looked at Peter when he stood, there was a moment of…everything. 

Neither of you were moving, yet his eyes and your own spoke a thousand unspoken words between their gazes. 

Without thinking, Peter lifted his hand to meet your own, allowing you to place the cloth down before he pulled you a little closer. 

Your name left his lips in a small whisper, a plea, a wish of permission.

You felt yourself stand a little taller as his other hand came to your face, brushing the loose hair from your face, behind your ear. 

His eyes continued to flick from your eyes to your lips, as yours did the same with him. 

There was time for you to stop. For you to say no. And if you did, he would have stepped away and, most likely, would have apologised and left. 

But you didn’t want that. 

Each tantalising moment that passed, you wished for time to hurry up. For his lips to finally meet yours. 

And once they did, there was no turning back. 

At first it was soft, until you both became hungry for more. 

Leaning in, your hands came to his neck to pull him closer to you. 

Eventually, the kiss broke apart for a moment, your heads resting together, your eyes partly closed. 

“Was that-”

“Just shut up and kiss me again.”

Peter chuckled a little before feeling your lips connect to his, allowing his hands to pull your body flush against his.

#peter parker x reader #spiderman x reader #marvel x reader #peter parker x fe!reader #fluff #angst #enemies to lovers #enemies to friends #tom holland! peter parker #andrew garfield spiderman #toby maguire spiderman #mcu #clint barton #shield #agents #co-workers #forced proximity #he fell first #greek mythology #the proposal #falling in love

[shayyprasad]

stuck with you | peter parker

summary: you love him, but you hate him. maybe you'll be able to love him a little bit more if it's really just the two of you.

"we're lost." you declared. 

"no, we aren't."

"yes, we are!"

"fine, then, mr. navigator, where are we?"

"um... er, we are— we are right here."

you rolled your eyes, along with a string of curses. 

peter sighed, "this is my life now. i have climbed this hill, and will die upon it."

"shut it. we've only been walking for 20 minutes. in the direction you said to go," you threw you hands up in frustration. yes, walking for 20 minutes, but stranded for maybe around 3 hours, you'd guess.

the plan, at first, was to wait for your father, tony, and the rest of the team to find you, but it'd had become quite evident after a while that they weren't coming for you.

"just because i have spider-sense, doesn't mean i have common sense!"

"well, i know that now!" after a moment, you pinched the bridge of your nose. "look, us stupidly arguing isn't gonna get us anywhere, okay?"

peter sighed, half-heartedly shrugging. you went back to fiddling with your ear comm, hoping to get it back online. for a moment, you heard static, and you squealed.

"what? what?"

and then it went back to silence. "goddamnit." you were very, very close to chucking it off a cliff. "aren't you, like, a tech genius or something? can't you do something with this?"

"i already tried. all i got was radio silence. we're completely off the grid, dumb-ass."

"you don't think i know that? god, why did i get stuck with the spider-kid?" you mumbled the second part under your breath.

"hey!"

oops. forgot about the spider-hearing. 

"okay, well— at least— at least my powers don't consist of freaking levitation!"

"it's not levitation!"

"my bad, telekinesis."

"psychokinesis!"

"same thing. who cares?"

you scowled and used your mental concentration to lift him a good 20 feet into the air.

"don't—" he yelped, "put me down!"

"don't put you down?"

"no! put. me. down!"

"can't hear you up there."

"you actual piece of— drop me! wait, no, not—"

you weren't doing anything bad. just what he told you to do. peter landed on the ground with a loud thud. that had to hurt, you thought.

"because all i can do is levitate things," you mocked, "how dumb. at least i don't shoot webs out of my ass-crack."

"i don't—"

but by then, you'd already tuned him out. one of your headaches was coming on, because you normally didn't lift heavy things in the air, or really, not most things. you were still figuring out how to use them.

it wasn't something you regretted though, it was very worth it.

"—and you know, i'm sure that—"

how was he still going?

"—because you haven't even started—"

i might chuck him off a cliff instead.

"—crazy, since—"

you gritted your teeth, massaging your temple, "please stop talking."

"hah! i'm sure you'd love— y/n? are you good?"

"yes," you waved his concern off (along with the butterflies in your stomach), "i'm fine."

"regret that yet?"

"no," you grinned. "never."

peter flopped down, sitting up against a tree. "i'm sure."

you joined him, taking a seat beside peter. in complete exhaustion, you dropped your head on his shoulder, quietly inhaling the smell of him. pinewood, aftershave, and a tinge of sweat. 

he flinched slightly at the action, but looped an arm around you. 

moments like this made being near peter actually nice. for once, you enjoyed his company. but the feeling didn't last long, because the reality of being stranded in a giant forrest/jungle/whatever other word for this place hit hard after a second.

"jeez, are we ever gonna get home?"

"yes. maybe. i mean, probably." he stammered.

"this is definitely worst case scenario. stuck on an alien planet, lost in— in whatever this was. were these even trees? were trees purple with yellow studs sticking out of them? 

you didn't know. you just wanted to go home. granted, peter's presence was making this slightly better, but still. 

"it's okay," you heard him say. "you can sleep. i got you, y/n." peter kissed the top of your head, and you subconciously smiled.

"you know," you murmured, "i'm glad that if i'm stuck with anyone here, i'm stuck with you."

and then you were falling, falling, into a deep, dreamless sleep, with pitch black envloping you entirely.

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #peter parker #spiderman #peter parker x you #peter parker x reader #fluff #drabble blurb thing #enemies to lovers

[youandtom2]

Little Birdie Part 2

Summary: You always thought you hated Tom more. But after a wild night that has now led into a confusing situationship you start to question who you should be hating more: your nightmare brother Andy, or his best friend Tom? w/c: 8.8k TW: just brothers being horrible A/N: Wow wow wow okay here it is. Please be kind as I am still easing myself back into this. And I know compared to the first one, it's barely anything, but writing 8k was actually a REAL struggle for me. There's probs mistakes and horrible writing but hey! i did it. And also DO NOT WORRY THERE WILL BE A PART 3. I DON'T INTEND TO LEAVE THIS STORY AS IS BUT I THOUGHT YOU GUYS SHOULD AT LEAST HAVE SOMETHING. okay okay okay all forgiven? Enjoy :)

LITTLE BIRDIE PART 1 // MASTERLIST

There was a book you once read years ago exploring the relationship between humans and dreaming, and it captivated your mind from the instant your fingers turned the first page. You were thrilled by its language, its storytelling, its theories and explanations to the point where you were absolutely obsessed by the enigma that is dreaming. The leading theory intertwined with its words was that dreaming was a human’s way of analysing their memories, learning from situations with hindsight and acting as a rehearsal for future challenges. 

It was a book you rarely forgot and a book you rarely shut up about. You remembered the moment you finished it and the profound imprint it left on your mindset. Your hands didn’t want to let go of it. From then on, it prompted you to question every dream you ever had since then.

The dream you had last night certainly fulfilled that theory. Images of your own troubled memory involving your own troubled brother flashed before you. Aside from the unstable, hostile relationship, there was actually another reason why you tended to stay away from Andy. And for some reason, your mind decided to remind you just last night in the form of a dream. 

Ten years ago, when you were eleven, you had just finished reading Matilda for the first time, one of the few books that occupied a home on your shelf as one of your all-time favourites. The storyline was almost an uncanny retelling of your life and because of that you immediately fell in love with it. You found so much of yourself in Matilda; a lonely girl with a love of books living with a family that didn’t quite understand her. Admittedly, your parents were much kinder to you than Harry and Zinnia Wormwood, but you couldn’t say the same about your brother. Andy resembled Matilda’s menacing brother, Michael Wormwood, in every way.

Prior to reading the book, you had had an awful week dealing with your brother who was in the early stages of his teenage years and you had yet to find a way of escaping his torment when your parents weren’t around. That was until you read Matilda, sitting on your front in a pillow fortress, swinging feet and unblinking eyes with the book perched so close to your face. One of your favourite moments was when Matilda had cleverly pieced together a very daring prank involving bleach hair dye, originally intended for her father but you took inspiration from it in any way you could and decided to replicate something similar for your brother. With the confidence given to you by Matilda, you found your mother’s bleach and concocted a mixture that was poured directly into your brother’s shampoo, cackling as you had finally gained a way to get back at your brother. At the time, you thought it was enough to keep him off your back, that with enough time he would realise the error in his mistakes for ever having mistreated you like Matilda’s brother Michael did. 

It was the biggest regret of your life. 

Things didn’t go your way. In the end, it was Andy that made sure you realised your mistake and a day later, you had suffered more than you ever had before. 

Enraged, Andy had stormed into your room, hair blazing with a tinge of orange that originally had you in fits of giggles, but when you realised the true extent of his anger, you weren’t laughing for long. He had fought to grab you by your ankles and vigorously drag you from your bed whilst insults and slurs passed through his lips. You had kicked and squealed but your parents were out for dinner with business partners. You were left by yourself, left to suffer the carpet burns up the length of your spine as he pulled you out of your bedroom, to defend yourself when he had pulled you to the edge of the half flight of stairs and sent you tumbling down the steps. Being a carpeted staircase with fewer than 10 steps, you got away with what could’ve been worse but it didn’t mean that the injuries you sustained you didn’t ache from. So blinded by anger, unprecedented for a fourteen-year-old, Andy couldn’t explain to your parents how you ended up with a split head that needed stitches. He couldn’t explain how you had ended up with carpet burn blisters on your back. He couldn’t explain why he did what he did simply because your parents didn’t need an explanation. They knew what had prevailed. 

It was a night you realised just how far Andy was willing to go to show how much he hated you and you vowed to never risk provoking him again. It was also a night Andy vowed to never risk hurting you again after the trouble he got himself when your parents arrived back home. 

Well, at least not physically. Little birdie would already have scuttled away before it escalated to that point.

The dream had fizzled out into a dark void as the memory turned blank. As you arose from your slumber, you wondered why, of all nights, would your conscience decide to resurrect such a memory. Again, you reminded yourself that no one really knows exactly why people dream and what messages they carry, but if you were to guess; perhaps knowing what transpired last night between you and Tom, it was your deeper conscience telling you to consolidate an old opinion of yours; that Andy was the truer evil you should be hating more. Not Tom. Not after how Tom looked at you with a soft glazing of affection in his eyes just before you fell asleep, tenderly caressing the skin of your thigh with a grounding squeeze, the very feeling that made your heart jump with giddiness. 

Longing stare, gentle touch, soft whispers. 

Maybe it could be a feeling you could get used to. You were willing to give him the benefit of the doubt just to feel more of it. 

The soft cotton of your black suite caressed your skin as you tossed and turned. The early morning sun streamed in through the small square window in the corner, illuminating the entirety of the shed. You had never slept on the couch before; it felt so out of routine. You were much more used to the bed upstairs hidden behind the blackout curtain, so you weren’t accustomed to waking in the bright morning light. It was somewhat uplifting. Albeit, the cramp in your neck was less so. 

You basked in daylight’s glow for just a minute before acknowledging how bare you were sandwiched between a blanket and the couch. Despite it being a foreign feeling, it was hardly startling compared to the savagery your body endured last night. Your ass stung, your pelvis throbbed and your head pounded. But nothing hurt more than the tightness in your chest, a pressure so suffocating that your heart was almost murmuring to be free. The pain of solitude was a bitter one. 

You, along with the black cinders of a dead flame, a raggedy towel and bottle of half-empty whisky lying by the side of the couch, and a broken promise were the result of what happened when Tom Holland got his way.

He didn’t stay. 

You wanted him to stay and he knew that, but he didn’t stay.

Your pain tolerance had been worn down to its last thread and you wanted nothing more than to be cocooned in comfort and warmth. You sought recovery under the thin blanket, grasping it in fists and pulling it tightly over your shoulder as you turned on your side while a sigh deflated from your lips.

It was too good to be true. Tom was never going to change and now, neither will you. You should just keep hating him like you did before.

~~~~

Andy also seemed to be a no-show when you eventually entered through the back patio doors into the living room. Although the air was still and calm, there was still a feeling of unease crawling up your spine when you walked past the mess left behind by Andy’s friends. Without thought, your eyes subconsciously landed on the settee where Tom had placed himself last night before he came to you, where he had sat with fire in his eyes as you bravely threatened to expose his misdemeanours. You remembered feeling like you had achieved something, like you were the victor of a battle that seemed impossible to overcome. Little did you know it was a threat he was going to face head on, and suddenly last night’s…punishment instantly flashed in your mind. 

Upon the thought, a sudden flash of realisation coloured your mind and your hand whipped to clamp over your neck. You almost forgot. The bruise on your neck. Shit, was it bad? 

You shifted nervously in front of the sheen of the oven door, seeing not one but multiple red splotches staining the skin of your neck in its reflection. Fuck, fuck, fuck! How could you walk around here so brazenly with that on your neck? Trust Tom to be an issue even when he wasn’t here. Bastard. 

“You got nerve comin’ back in here after your little stunt last night.” Andy’s groggy voice along with shuffling bare feet entered the kitchen. Fuck, you were hoping for a little reprieve to wash, change and lather your neck in makeup before Andy even had the chance to leave his bedroom. Between the dream you had last night and the bruise to your neck, Andy suddenly being here caused your heart to thump a little harder in your chest, but it was his tone that made your blood run cold. 

He sounded…pissed. Well, that was nothing new. But aside from his usual abhorrence towards you, there was something about his expression that resounded a little deeper. Grumpier. His eyes also looked at you a little differently, like he knew something about you that he hadn’t before, something contemptible and there were no second guesses as to what it was. He can’t know. How could he know? Tom--he wouldn’t…would he?

Your hand stayed resting against your neck out of pure guilt while Andy roamed the kitchen, searching fridges, cupboards, drawers.

“What?” 

He froze in his tread and turned to look at you expectantly with a deep scowl. “Uh, the whole Tom thing? How can you not remember what you did? Are you that fucking stupid?” 

You swallowed thickly, quickly preparing words. “It…it wasn’t my fault! I didn’t know what he was going to do!” 

“Well, what did you expect? You were pretty much asking for it!”

You took a hefty breath, body shaking with anger. “Fuck you, Andy. Just fuck you. Why can’t you just be on my side for once? That’s what brothers are supposed to do!”

Andy scoffed and turned back to the measly bowl of cereal he poured himself. “Well if you had just given me a slice of pizza like I asked then none of it would've happened! That’s what sisters are supposed to do, right? Do you know how pissed he was after you blackmailed him? He was blaming me for it, saying that I told you everything and how I betrayed him and how he can’t trust me anymore. I mean, how the fuck did you even know all of that?” 

Oh. He’s talking about that. 

Your hand remained casually resting against your neck, under the shield of your hair as a sigh blew past your lips. With quieter subdued words, you mumbled, “you guys aren’t exactly the quietest when you’re drunk and high.” 

“Well mind your own business and put some headphones on next time!” 

“Whatever.” 

“Why are you holding your neck like that?”

“I slept on my couch last night. Got cramp in my neck.” Ready to leave with your secret still undisclosed, you turned to make your exit from the kitchen, heading towards the bathroom. 

“Weirdo.” 

The shower was a degree or three colder than you would usually have it. Something about the freezing cold water inflicted a feeling of clarity upon your skin, like a breath of fresh air, cleansing the stains of the debauchery of last night’s secret. Even as you stepped out, you exited with a new mentality and left the promiscuous past to drain away with the water. However, in its place frustration took over. Typical that whatever relief was to be had from the refreshing shower was only to last mere minutes, because now the heat of loathing had consumed you. Of course, your inner-consciousness blamed it on Tom, but there was a small minority that was self-loathing too for even letting it happen. You should’ve known better. 

You stopped, frozen to the spot. The thing was…you did know better. You passed him off as a womaniser, the ‘selfish player’ who strives for nothing but his own satisfaction and only chases girls that share the same intent. You read him like one of your books, exposed everything you knew about him directly to his face and he confirmed it all without hesitation. So was there really anything surprising about what he did? No, of course not. You knew how sharp the blade was before you let yourself get cut by it. 

So why were you still bothered by it?

The thought still followed you as you mindlessly dabbed concealer over your neck. You watched yourself in the mirror and for just a moment tried to avoid looking at yourself as just a reflection and rather how others would see you.

It was obvious you had never been adventurous with your appearance, your virgin locks hung around your usually make-up free face, adorning wise but inexperienced eyes. What you saw was what you got. Nothing you wore represented your family’s wealth; plain, basic clothing and lacking the expensive accessories that your brother might choose to wear, but it showed that you didn’t need money to be content and preferred a simple life. The more deductions you pointed out about yourself, the more you regretted ever reading Sherlock Holmes, because fuck, you were so readable. So transparent to the eye that you assumed it was why Andy knew how to push your buttons, that your parents knew exactly what books to get you for your birthday, and possibly how Tom was able to win one over on you. 

The epiphany hit you hard and fast. Perhaps knowing Tom wasn’t the issue. After all, it certainly didn’t cause any vulnerability on his part. Perhaps the issue resided with never considering what others saw in you. Tom knew you would grow curious despite how adamant you were of opposing the idea. He knew that even though he was everything you hated about your brother and more, you would still fall into his trap. He knew how he made you feel when he was near, dissecting every sign until they were raw and unfiltered. He just knew. He even fucking told you!

“You’d be surprised at what I know about you.” Because you were so fucking readable.

Your head sunk deep into the caverns of your hands, quietly swearing an oath to yourself to stay away from Tom Holland until you figured out how not to be so transparent. 

“Hey, dude. I’m sorry about last night. You up for comin’ round again tonight? I’ll get dinner and beers. My treat. Cool, dude. See you at about 7.”  

As the words of an invitation echoed through the hall, you realised it was going to be much harder than you anticipated.

~~~~~

You spent most of the afternoon fretting over how you could avoid Tom’s inevitable return to the house. Your eyes gazed out of your bedroom window to see your shed exactly the way you left it. You couldn’t face going back there tonight. Tinted with Tom’s presence, it now served as a constant reminder of last night so it wasn’t exactly the best place to be if you wanted to avoid him. Being in the house was too risky which meant the only option you had left was to simply leave.

As 6:45pm ticked by, you tied your shoelaces, grabbed everything you needed and descended down the stairs, ready for your walk. You weren’t exactly sure where you were going to go, maybe you would find a Starbucks somewhere and read, but right now, your priority was to leave the house first and foremost. 

“Where you goin’?” Andy had asked, his lips already sealing around a bottle of beer. You were surprised he even cared enough to ask. 

“Out.”  

“Good. Can finally give me some peace.” 

Never mind. “Whatever.” 

“Scuttle away, little birdie,” he chimed, seconds before you slammed the front door. 

The pebbles clicked loudly underneath your feet as you marched your way down the private driveway. The sun had already begun to set beyond the horizon leaving behind orange remnants to colour the sky. Despite the day creeping into night, it was still warm and you praised yourself for leaving behind the jacket you considered wearing and indulged the feeling of having a warm breeze gloss over your arms. It was the first time you had seen outside of your house in a while and with that came the realisation that there was as much beauty in the real world than there was in your books. You should’ve done it sooner. 

No, really. You should’ve. Because Tom’s Lamborghini was slowly rolling up your driveway towards your house. You checked your watch; 6:49pm. Fuck. He was early. Why was he early? Why couldn’t he have turned up when he was supposed to? Why must you have to go through this again? 

Heartbeat accelerating, you looked back towards your front door calculating whether you had enough time to run back, but it had seemed you had walked too far and he had driven too quickly. There was no turning back. You had to face him head on.

Sweaty palms sunk deep into your pockets as you continued your stroll towards the gates, head down and ignorant of everything around you. Naively, you hoped for him to simply drive past you and pay you no mind, but of course, it was Tom Holland. Any opportunity to be a pain in your arse he was going to take it. You just wanted to be invisible, and despite the tinted windows and the pounding music coming from within, there was no way he wouldn’t see you and there was no way you were going to be able to avoid him. 

You expected a slow stop, a rolled-down window and a witty comment to leave his mouth before making the rest of the journey towards your house. And in all honesty, you would’ve preferred it that way. In fact, you would’ve preferred anything over what actually happened. 

The bubbling rumble of the engine stilled just a few yards ahead of you. The door opened and slammed shut again seconds later where a hearty silence followed. Quietly desperate to know what he was doing, you couldn’t resist the urge to lift your head to see him casually resting against the side of his car, waiting for your approach with his hands deep into pockets. Dark eyes latched themselves onto you as you neared and they instantly ignited a flame inside you, one that you hadn’t learned to tame yet. 

In the split second you had before anything was said, you reflected back upon your earlier epiphany about how readable you were to him. Although you hadn’t found a solution to it as of yet, you decided to play into it, letting your brows sink into a scowl, writing the words ‘fuck off’ across your features with as much ambition as you had. 

His head cocked to the side, purposely exposing the blemish you had regrettably left on him last night. You seethed at the sight. “Hey, little birdie. Where are you headed?” 

Fuck him and his patronising, mocking tone. “Out.”

“At this time?”

“Maybe I would've liked it to have been at least thirty seconds earlier, or if you were ten minutes later. Either way.” You had intended it to be a clear insult to him, but yet you couldn’t fathom why he was chuckling with that stupid grin on his face. He took a step closer and folded his arms, his eyes examining you head to toe. Even in a different light, his eyes still contained the same lascivious quality as they honed in you. You really wanted to shiver but you also didn’t want him seeing what those eyes did to you, not when you were supposed to be pissed at him. 

Longing stare…

Wordlessly and without warning, his hand reached out towards you allowing his fingertips to glaze over your jawline, purposely tilting your head to expose the part of your neck you doused in makeup. Your body burned at his touch, a violent act of betrayal of your own conscience as it pleaded with you to hate him rather than quietly yearn for him. 

Gentle touch…

He watched the hidden bruise carefully, twitching under the bob of your throat from swallowing nervously and perhaps with a twinge of guilt for having concealed it. Why you felt guilt, you weren’t quite sure. It had been estranged from your emotions all day, and if anything, you felt empowered by concealing what he left behind. But under the scrutiny of his disapproving glare, you were far from the feeling.

The click of his tongue spiked in your ears. “Andy doesn’t know, does he?”

“No. But I guess that doesn’t matter, does it? I suppose you’re just going to go and tell him anyway-”

“He won’t believe me. Not unless he sees what you’ve covered up.” 

“It’s better that way.” 

“And why’s that? I thought we agreed that little birdie’s free to do what she wants--” 

“And I thought you agreed to stay.” The words had fallen out in a trice before you had a chance to stop them. Tom wasn’t a fool to miss the anger behind them, and had he been a straight-up idiot, he would’ve missed the sadness in your eyes too. 

His hand retracted the moment you continued. “That’s why Andy doesn’t know; because I got played by your game even though I know what you’re like, and it’s fucking embarrassing. I didn’t want Andy to find out that I was that stupid and naive to think that maybe for once, you wouldn’t be an asshole. It’s like it’s all some sort of prank for you, isn’t it? Because after all, you’re the one that comes out on top and I’m the one being humiliated. It’s always been that way, I should’ve been fucking smarter to know it was never going to change.” 

Tom swallowed every word and embraced the silence for a moment before muttering your name in a voice quieter than normal. 

Soft whispers…

“Just…do me a favour and leave me alone. Shouldn’t be too hard for you. God forbid Tom Holland spends more than one night with the same girl.” 

Not sparing a second look, you turned towards the gate and quickly walked further from Tom who was left with nothing else to say. Although you were already fully convinced, you had secretly given Tom one last chance to explain himself. Just one chance to stop you and explain why he didn’t stay like he said he would, and still as you walked away and exited through the gates, he didn’t take it. 

Each step you took was harder and quicker than the last. You drove your heel into the ground as that same frustration pumped through your veins, constantly abasing you for being so caught in the humiliation of it all. 

“Fuck,” you whispered to yourself when you noticed your hands shaking. For a while, you spiralled into your own subconscious questioning why his absence this morning hurt you in a way you didn’t expect it to. No matter how profound your own self-analysis of what you were feeling was and why you were feeling it, you couldn’t find a remedy for it.

And like with every other problem in your life, instead of confronting it, you ran away from it.

~~~~

“Hi mum. How’s the holiday?” Your tone was chirper than usual as you spoke into your phone. It didn’t at all reflect how you were feeling inside, but you couldn’t let your mum worry about you. It would ruin her holiday. 

“Hi honey, it’s nice hearing from you. It’s amazing; weather’s sunny and warm, the food’s great and all is relatively stress-free, well, except from when your dad dropped his passport at the airport and nearly lost it--” 

“Jesus!” 

“I know! I told him! The moron. Anyway, how are things with you and Andy? You sound like you’re outside. Oh God. Is the house still standing? It hasn’t burnt down has it?” 

An airy chuckle fed through the line. If only she knew that Andy was just half of your problems. “Yes, it’s still standing so no need to panic. And I’m out for a walk. Decided I needed to leave the house for a bit to get some peace and fresh air. Andy has…been his usual self. Don’t get mad but he had a party the first night.” 

“Ugh! I knew it! Truthfully, I always knew he was going to throw a party but I didn’t think it was going to be as early as the first night! Great. Now I owe your father a grand. It wasn’t too disastrous, was it? You must’ve spent the night in your shed. Did you get pizza delivered?” 

You opened your mouth but no words came out. You never told her you were going to be staying in your shed, nor did you ever tell her about ordering pizza, regardless of the fact they happened on separate nights. She was still, in some aspect, right. 

“Y-yeah, I did.” A long sigh broke the pause in between your words. “Hey, can I ask you something? And be honest with me.” 

“Sure. What’s up?” 

“Am I predictable?” 

Your mother somewhat spluttered through the phone as she tried to find her words, obvious enough that if she had just said the first thing that came to her head you would’ve already had your answer. 

Yes.

But of course, she was your mother, and in her sweet, maternal manner, she decided to answer delicately. “Well, you were always set in your ways, even from a young age. Very much a creature of habit. Routines and tendencies, you know?”

“So…I shouldn’t have a routine?” 

“That’s not what I’m saying. Everyone has a routine. For example, your dad and I get up at 7 every morning, we’re at work by 8, we come home at 5, we make dinner, we watch TV. Every Monday, Wednesday and Thursday, I go to the gym. Yes, I have a routine but that doesn’t mean you’re going to know whether I’m in the mood for tea, coffee or vodka and it’s the same with you. I know you spend your evenings reading, but that doesn’t mean I know whether you’re going to read romance, mystery or horror. My point is; just because you have a routine, doesn’t mean your personality is predictable too, just the likelihood of your next steps. I’m just making it apparent that yours hasn’t changed since you were young. What’s got you asking?” 

The truth sat on your tongue.

Andy’s best friend, Tom, whom I’ve hated most of my life, said he was going to fuck me even though I didn’t want to fuck him, but I still let him fuck me, and now I’m angry that I let him fuck me because it proved that he knew I was going to let him fuck me. 

Obviously, that wasn’t what you really said. “Lately I’ve been feeling like everyone seems to know what I’m going to do before I even know what I’m going to do.” 

“Well, change up your routine. Read in the afternoon and take a walk in the evening. Spend time in the living room instead of the shed.” 

You hummed quietly, deliberating her advice. You remained quiet for just a second too long for her liking.

“Honey?” 

“Yeah?” 

“I can’t help but wonder if this has something to do with Andy. He hasn’t said or…done anything hurtful to you, has he? You know it would break me if he was to repeat what he did ten years-” 

“No, no, it’s okay. He hasn’t done anything in particular, at least nothing I can’t handle myself. Now go and enjoy the rest of your holiday. I’ll text you soon, love you.” 

She sighed, unconvinced, but replied back with the same familial passion she had always shown you. 

As the hours drifted late into the night, you made it to your local Starbucks and sat with your hot chocolate encased in your hands. While your book lay unused beside you, your old habits drove you to blankly stare out of the window, casually watching other people as they continued on with their life while you reflected on your own. The conversation you had with your mother still ran circles around your mind, and as ever the insightful person she was, you thought it best to heed her words carefully. Change your routine, she said. 

What was your routine? What was a guarantee in your life? Well, for one, you had to look no further than your own memory of Tom’s words not too long ago. ‘It's hard enough that the sight of Andy makes you scuttle away so easily…’. As much as it pained you to admit, he was right. It was the only cause-and-effect Andy and his friends could rely upon. The longer you thought about it, the more and more of your little tendencies surfaced in your head. 

So you decided to change them all. 

When your mother said to change your routine, when translated into your mind it read along the lines of ‘when Andy comes along, don’t scuttle away. When his friends are invited over, stay in the house. Throw them off, don’t let them know your next steps.’ Although it was going against your human nature, you were going to put your mind to it. Do not let anyone have a higher power over you. Do not let anyone know what you might do next. It was going to be a real test of your mental and emotional stability. 

~~~~~

As it had appeared, that test arrived sooner than you anticipated. Not two days after your mother had bestowed you with her advice, Andy had organised yet another party at your house. There wasn’t exactly a strategy in place per say, but you had already pre-emptively taken everything from your shed because you didn’t want to dangle the temptation of retreating to your sanctuary in front of you. You wanted to remain strong in your ambitions no matter how you were going to do it or how difficult it was going to be. 

As night fell, you watched from the upstairs office’s tall windows as people started to flood into the house, just to get an idea of what to wear. You wanted to look the part, wanted to look like you belonged there and not just a lost ghost floating around the house like you had been before. Most girls you saw were pretty casual, thankfully swapping the short dresses and skirts to jeans and a nice top, choosing comfort over style, nevertheless still maintaining that expensive price tag. That shouldn’t be an issue; you pondered over the choice of Balenciaga shoes you had in your wardrobe. 

Once the party had started, you gave yourself a generous 45 minutes to psych yourself up for the night ahead, throwing back a few drinks you had brought in from the shed, fixing up your hair and makeup with a little more detail, and spending many, many minutes staring at your reflection in the mirror. Your eyes fell to your neck, the deep purple of the bruise had simmered to just a faint wash of pink that it wasn’t completely obvious to the eye, almost invisible in the dark. The foundation brush in your hand hovered a few inches above it, wavering between covering it up and leaving it be. 

No. Leave it. Who cares who sees it? Not you. Not anymore.

The brush rattled against your vanity desk as you dropped it, turning towards your bedroom door and walking downstairs before a second thought could cross your mind. 

With each step you took, you counted the number of things that were a guarantee for tonight: drink, drugs, games, chaos, debauchery, gambling, a mess. You had always seen the result of those things when you stepped onto the scene the next morning, but tonight, you were going to see them happen in action. A little daunting if anything, but if you were trying to look on the brighter side, you were fulfilling an unsuspecting part of your curiosity that had always wanted to see what exactly Andy got up to during these parties of his. 

The crowd was once again split between the open living room, the kitchen and the veranda. There was no doubt that in time other rooms would eventually be used for other things, but the night was still young, sober and relatively innocent. You wanted to grow with it. 

You couldn’t help but notice how you caught a few eyes with your entrance; a group of girls in the corner whispering between each other, a few of Andy’s friends turning their heads to catch a glance; shock, confusion and curiosity evident in their pregnant stares. It was attention you weren’t used to receiving, but that was the whole point of tonight. Change your routine. Be unpredictable. Be unreadable. Take control. 

There was a pair of eyes you had yet to see, though. 

Longing stare, gentle touch, soft whispers. 

Stop it. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” It was Andy, lips pursed, teeth gritted. It was obvious your sudden appearance was startling to him, and it was no surprise to you that he wasn’t taking it well. His control was slipping…

“Here? As in my own house? What could I possibly be doing here?” The sarcasm dripped from every word as you yanked back your own arm from Andy’s fist. 

“You’re not supposed to be here.” 

You smirked. “Says who?” 

He opened his mouth again, at a loss, but was interrupted by louder, higher-pitched voices as they swarmed in from behind him. “Oh my God, Andy, is this your little sister?” It was Morgan, the girl Andy had brought back to your parents’ bed on the first night. She seemed to be engrossed with you, introducing herself animatedly and already inviting you to get drinks with her from the kitchen, much to Andy’s dismay. Despite being a little dumbfounded by Morgan’s sudden interest in you, you decided to not question it with the sheer satisfaction of knowing that you were stealing his attention. 

“She was just leaving.” 

“What? No, come on, let her join. You said tonight was going to be chill. ‘The more the merrier’, you said. Remember?” 

Morgan whisked you away by the curl of her arm wrapped around your shoulder, bearing nothing but her pearly whites as she escorted you to the colourful array of expensive vodka bottles, mixed amongst the fat, golden champagne bottles on the kitchen counter, every second one uncorked. Morgan helped herself to the champagne glasses stacked up in the tall cupboard like she had done it so many times before, grabbing one for herself and one for you. God, it was like this wasn’t even your house and she was the hostess. 

“It’s so nice to finally talk to you. You know you’re like a myth to us.”  

Your laughter was loud and abrupt. “What?” 

“No, seriously. We all knew Andy had a little sister but, like, we never see you.” 

She handed you a glass of bubbling champagne and you took it delicately between your fingers, twirling as you reflected upon her words. “Well, I’ve decided to change that.” 

“Good for you. I’m sure there’s plenty of people who want to meet you--oh! Talia! Over here! It’s Andy’s little sister!” 

A slender body circled around yours and facing you was Talia, the girl you once fantasised over replacing. She greeted you with a smile on her face against the backdrop of her long, blonde hair as a red hue crossed yours. It was a smile that seemed genuinely welcoming and a sly thought spawned in your mind; maybe she doesn’t know about you spying on her that first night…

You couldn’t imagine her being so welcoming if she did.

“Oh hey! I can’t believe you’re here. It’s so strange seeing you outside your shed.” It was so strange to see her not latching onto Tom. Speaking of, where was he? “By the way, thanks for letting me use your toilet that first night, I don’t think I would’ve made it if you hadn’t. I was just so drunk and I literally couldn’t hold it.” 

“Sure, it was no problem.” 

“Really? I kept thinking that I had pissed you off.” 

Well…“Don’t worry, it wasn’t you. It was…um, Tom. Didn’t want him in, honestly.” 

A look of disgust contorted her features at the mention of his name. It didn’t make sense in your head albeit it was something you could resonate with. Perhaps you weren’t the only one to be foolish enough to lose at his game. Her eyes rolled widely and the click of her tongue conveyed a message that didn’t need words. She apparently despised him. Both a sucker for gossip, Morgan filled you in on the details with Talia giving extra snippets of insight every ten seconds or so, and after an unnecessarily long and dramatic build up, you found out that Talia and Tom used to have a little friends-with-benefits-no-strings-attached situation going on over a number of months. Talia had been using Tom in the same way he was using her; to alleviate boredom. It wasn’t news, honestly. In fact, it was hardly discreet. But the shock came from what Talia told you after. 

“He texted me like three nights ago saying he wanted to end it.” 

He would’ve been with you when he texted her. You must’ve been asleep by the time he did. A nervous glance to your left gave away your paranoia, regardless you probed for more. “Why?”

“Something about maturing or growing up or whatever.” She flicked her blonde hair over her shoulder with a short, unbothered sigh, her phone now perched in front of her face. “Oh well. I mean it wasn’t like we were exclusive. I can get my fun elsewhere.” 

Stuck in thought, your eyes mindlessly gazed over Talia’s shoulder where your focus pulled your attention to the living room, full of bodies sitting, standing, conversing, drinking, all blurring into one amalgamation of movement. But there in the centre of the room was one motionless figure, a solid rock amongst the waves and it caught your attention immediately.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear. 

Adrenaline was fed through your veins at the sight of Tom, just like it had done before. His stature was strong and confident as he faced you, clutching a beer in hand while the other burrowed into his pocket. He had you in his sights and with a glare so firm from eyes so dark, you found yourself being ensnared by them. You couldn’t put a name to the expression on his face and it left you wondering what his intentions were. Several ideas coursed through your mind but none had any semblance of plausibility.

With slow and careful movements, Tom tilted his head in a smooth motion to crack his neck. Only then, did you figure out what was going through his head.

With a breath caught in your lungs, you stayed vigilant as he subtly raised his beer just inches into the air with the neck of the bottle tilted slightly in your direction, dedicating a small, personal toast with the gentle nod of his head. What the hell did that mean?

You swallowed, cautious. You turned your attention back to Talia. “So…um, you haven’t heard from him since?”

Her eyes looked at you from the phone. “No. Knowing him, he’s probably moved onto someone else. Lucky bitch whoever it is. Tom was kinda my favourite to fuck around with. He knew what he was doing if you know what I mean.” 

“No.” You deadpanned. “I don’t.”  

Oh yes you do…

Having that very enlightening conversation with Morgan and Talia was just the first of many. Every second you spent around the house, the more people began to realise that you were here to stay and took the opportunity to find out all about Andy’s mysterious little sister. As introverted as you thought you were, you were actually enjoying the conversations, realising that not every one of Andy’s friends were as conceited as he was. At first it was the girls, watched by many begrudging boys as you single-handedly stole their attention, a problem that could only be resolved by joining them, chatting to you, finding out more about you and lure out the embarrassing stories of Andy they knew you had stored away somewhere. You were more than happy to oblige as it passed that point in the night when people had estranged themselves from sobriety, opening up with every drop they drank, including you. Although, you told yourself you didn’t want to take things too far, not on your first night of liberation from Andy’s silent clutches of which he was struggling to retain. 

You had chatted to all but two. Two boys who had cowered to the far ends of the room for the majority of the night, watching, observing, refusing to follow the crowd. There was no attempt to patronise you, manipulate you, mock you in any way because, like your mother had suggested, you were completely out of routine. So out of character that the boys didn’t know what to do and unlike what you were dreading earlier, the party had developed into something you were happily embracing. It had actually pained you to take a break from the party when your phone had completely drained of its battery, so overused from adding multiple people on socials, adding numbers, taking photos that it had actually died. 

Quietly excusing yourself, you made your way up to your bedroom believing you hadn’t been followed. It wasn’t until you tried to close your door behind you that a foot had stopped it from sealing you in. You barely made it to your charger when the intruder grabbed your arms and violently spun you around.

“What are you doing, get the fuck out my room!” Alcohol fuelled your anger as you spat words at your brother who was far from pleased. 

“You little shit. You told all my friends about Mexico?!” 

Mexico was your biggest weapon against Andy. It was a time where you and your family went on a summer holiday to Cancun a couple of years ago; an amazing time for you, but for Andy, it was his most embarrassing memory. Just days after arriving, Andy had an unfortunate incident involving the sea, lost swimming trunks, and a very awkward interaction with a lifeguard. Andy was absolutely mortified and the rest of the family giggled uncontrollably as they vowed to him to never tell a soul. It didn’t stop them from talking about it when the family got together, and while they kept their promise to never tell another soul, you had been embarrassed one too many times by Andy to solemnly keep that vow. 

“Serves you right for embarrassing me in front of your friends all those other times-”

“That’s not the fucking same!” 

“In fact, you’re right. Mexico doesn’t even begin to cover the amount of times you’ve embarrassed me. Now get off me before I start telling all your friends about everything else.” 

His grip tightened, containing your struggle. “You’re not going back downstairs,” he ordered. 

“Face it, Andy. You’re just too scared to admit that all your friends actually prefer me over you. That’s why you never ever let me near when you have them round.” You knew all too well that you were provoking him, something that you promised yourself never to do again, but you’ve lived so many years cowering from him. Just for once, you wanted to give him what he deserved. 

“Shut up!” Enraged, Andy shoved you, and you landed just short of your bed, your spine landing onto the wooden bedframe with a clatter. With the door being closed and the music blasting downstairs, no one could hear the fight ensuing in your room. Once again, you were left to fend for yourself. But you were older and stronger than what you were ten years ago, surely you could stand a better chance against him. 

In a tanlge of limbs, punches and kicks were thrown where and when possible, the two of you caught up in a careless fight with no clear winner. It lasted several pain-inducing minutes until the final, winning blow was taken by Andy who had managed to get you pinned to the ground. You weren’t sure what to expect from him as he forced you to the ground. Of course damage had already been done, but what else could Andy do to ensure you would stay here like he wanted you to? He knew as well as you did that at the first chance of escape, you would take it, so with every second that passed, the worry and fear in you increased. He was stuck for options, having nothing to keep you pinned. 

There was an intense moment of anticipation. Your eyes remained locked in place with his as you internally battled it out with each other, waiting for either to have the chance to do something. 

You clocked the moment his eyes wandered to your neck and heat rushed to your cheeks because you knew exactly what caught his attention. 

“What’s that?” 

“None of your business,” you spat. “Let go--” 

“Is that…is that a hickey?” His voice was incredulous as he brushed a harsh finger over it, expecting it to be make-up but when it didn’t disappear, his eyes locked back onto you and his hand remained around your neck. “Who?” He demanded. The fire inside him roared ferociously. For a moment, the thought that he could potentially suffocate you crossed your mind. “Who?!” 

To both of your surprise, the door swung open. “Dude, what the fuck are you doing? Get off of her!” 

Andy’s weight was alleviated from you very swiftly, and your eyes caught on to the soft brown curls of Tom as he hauled him away from you, giving you just enough time to catch your breath and find your feet. By the time you came to stand, Tom had Andy shoved against your bedroom wall, a look of confusion riddling his face. He still didn’t know why his best friend had sided with you, and it made him all the more angry to think about what you had said earlier. He wasn’t ready to admit anything. 

“Are you fucking crazy?” Tom yelled, face reddening by the second. “She’s your sister?!” 

Andy glared at him through furrowed brows. Defending you was so uncharacteristic of him so it felt like a stab in the back for Andy. “Why are you taking her side in this, man?” 

“How could I possibly take your side when you just attacked her?” 

The two boys continued to argue in front of you while you stood silently behind them. The novelty of having Tom openly defend you against Andy had yet to wear off, so you were curious to see how far he would go and how it would play out.

“Dude, she told everyone about Mexico!”

“So? You’ve embarrassed her in front of all of us before.” Damn, right he has. “You told us all she was a virgin--”

“Was?” There was a brief silence in the argument, the gears winding in Andy’s head. His eyes twitched, stealing a glance of you behind Tom’s shoulder but contempt drove them back to Tom. “You know, don’t you? Who did it? Huh? Who left that thing on her neck?” 

“Probably someone who can do a better job of looking after her than you can--”

You decided to finally cut in. You mustered the confidence and spoke firmly. “Tell him.” 

Tom turned to you, a little surprised, almost as if he wanted confirmation of what you just asked him to do. With his eyes gazing over your features like they had done so many times before, he was able to clearly see the resolution written in your eyes and the confidence he saw as you stood your ground, unblinking. A small smirk tugged at his lips. He could read you so well. 

Little birdie’s free to do what she wants. 

“It was me.” 

“You…no, you’re lying. I don’t believe you.” 

“He’s telling the truth.” You came to a stand in front of Andy. “The night you had all your friends round for sports night. Tom left early, didn’t he?” 

“How do you know that, you were in your shed…”

“Because he didn’t go home. Did you not think it was weird that he came back the next day with a hickey on his neck? That it’s just as faded as mine is now?”

An epiphany soon glossed over Andy’s eyes. “You were holding your neck…but you-you said you had neck cramp.” 

“Or I was covering something up.” 

Andy looked to you, to Tom and then back to you, betrayal and anger riddling his features. Between you and Tom, neither of you could quite tell who he was going to lash out at first and as a precaution, Tom took a step in front of you, curling his arm around your front. You initially thought it strange that Tom felt the need to protect you given what your brother had just found out, especially since you knew that you were considered ‘off-limits’ to your brother’s friends. Then again, it wasn’t out of brotherly-protection, it was out of greed and possession, and knowing Andy and his lack of familial compassion, you realised that you were just as much in the firing line as Tom was. His next words attested to that. 

“You…whore.” 

Now Andy had called you a lot of things, but a whore was never one of them. It had your blood boiling, your skin crawling with absolute disgust, and your molars grinding together. What did you do to deserve a brother as rancid as him? 

The moment he uttered that word, you pounced for him in a blinding rage. What stopped you from actually hitting him was Tom, making a very mature decision to collect all of your flailing, swinging limbs and calmly escort you out of the room. Andy attempted to retaliate but with a swift and threatening ‘do not fucking touch her’ from Tom, he retreated and sulked his way to his room. Regardless, you refused to relent until you were safely out of his sight, out into the front garden and trailing towards the front gate with the music of the party dulling behind you. 

Once you reached the gates, Tom turned to you once to ask you if you were okay and in your alcohol-adrenaline-induced state, you simply nodded. That was good enough for him. 

Wordlessly you followed Tom, having little to no idea what he was doing or where he was taking you. All you knew was that he had your hand in his and you were walking out of your driveway. You shook your hand lethargically to test whether or not he would let go but his grip only tightened, apparently adamant on his decision to take you away from here.

“Where are we going?” 

“We’re going back to my house.” 

“Why?” 

“So that this time, you’ll know I’ll stay.”

All things considered, you should’ve said no. You should’ve reminded yourself exactly why you were trying to avoid Tom. You should’ve stopped him and given him a ‘what-for’ for all the hurt he had caused you like you did with Andy. But you didn’t because you couldn’t stop reminding yourself of why you wanted to say yes.

Rough hands, dark eyes, desperate moans. Longing stare, gentle touch, soft whispers.

You were tired of the reasoning, tired of the tension, tired of constantly battling, and tired of trying to decipher what every little minute detail meant. You just wanted to say yes and get on with it. 

So you did. 

Part 3 coming soon

#why am i nervous to post this??? #i rlly hope you guys like it #i know its just a filler #this shit will have a part 3 #tom holland #tom holland smut #tom holland fic #tom holland x reader #smut #dom!tom holland #rich!tom holland #tom holland imagine #enemies to lovers #big brothers best friend #little birdie #tom holland x you #peter parker fic

[vauxxy]

sad, beautiful, tragic

distance, timing, breakdown, fighting

silence, the train runs off its tracks

kiss me, try to fix it

could you just try to listen?

hang up, give up

and for the life of us, we can get back

peter parker x reader!!

(treacherous part 2)

PLOT - in which peter parker tries to talk to his rival after multiple drunk make out sessions the previous night.

WARNINGS - sexual references, no smut, make out scenes, allusions to sexual activity, weed, smoking, kiss and makeup attitude

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“just talk to her, don’t be an arse” gwen smiled, swaying with the movement of the subway. the sun peeked through the windows as the train made its way out of a tunnel and closer to their destination.

“what exactly are you supposed to say to someone you made out with like, 3 times while drunk?? especially if you used to hate their guts”

“i don’t know, ‘sorry i hated you before, i just internalised my fetish for goth stoners as hatred- let’s make out some more’ or something-“ gwen joked, before being cut off by a frustrated peter.

“are you kidding me? she’s gonna spot us across the carriage any second now and i won’t have any idea what to say to her!”

y/n sat cross legged in her seat, reading some depressing book from the early 1900’s about some depressing characters, written by a depressed closeted gay man. she tucked a chunk of hair behind her ears before re-adjusting her headphones. “i bet she’s listening to fucking my chemical romance or korn or some shit,” peter chuckled as his eyebrows furrowed, gripping onto the hanging bars of the train carriage.

“nope, look on spotify,” gwen corrected. peter turned away from y/n to look over at gwen, his eyes drifting to the screen of her phone.

“it says she’s listening to… taylor swift?” she said, a confused expression painted on her face. peter jolted his head back in shock, overcome with anxiety. “aunt may loves taylor swift…” he murmured, the rustle of the train carriage pulling him away from gwen.

“let me see what song,” peter insisted as he gestured to see gwen’s phone. she passed it over to him, watching his face move as he read the title.

“sad, beautiful, tragic… i’m pretty sure that’s from red, right?” peter questioned. gwen shrugged her shoulders in response. “i don’t know. i’m more of a midnights and evermore type of girl” she replied. peter scrolled down to the lyrics of the song, his eyes widening and his lips pursing.

“gwen, i’m totally fucked”

y/n had slept on what had happened the previous night. spider-man saved her from getting robbed and gave her some very unhelpful advice. what the fuck would spider-man know anyways? he doesn’t get any bitches. y/n may have also ghosted peter, but who cares? y/n put her heart out on the table, for some reason expecting more from the person who constantly teased her everyday for 2 years. sure, she should’ve saw it coming, but she didn’t. which is why she was going to be as dramatic as possible.

this meant a new playlist. no more limp biskit; nobody cries to ‘break stuff’!! it was time to listen to the entire red album on repeat, along with ‘ultraviolence’ and elliott smith. y/n was fully ready to be a sad little bitch.

on monday morning, she scored a seat on the subways and started listening to her new playlist, putting on one particular taylor swift song on repeat while she read her sad little bitch book. she looked up for a split second to see peter and gwen talking.

‘oh, so he can make time to talk to gwen, but not the girl he snogged three times?’ y/n thought.

y/n turned up her volume and put away her book as she listened to the lyrics of the song. the train pulled up to the station within walking distance to her school and so she stood up. catching the eye of peter as she walked to the doors, she quickly averted her gaze and took a few steps back.

peter flinched at the sudden eye contact, turning his full body towards gwen. “gwen. do something” he anxiously muttered. gwen nodded, smiling innocently, before beginning to casually walk over to y/n.

“y/n! how’d that hangover treat you?” gwen asked, pulling in y/n for a comfortable hug. y/n smiled hesitantly and embraced the act of affection. “so, so badly,” she replied, thinking back to the incident that followed the day after the party.

“the hangover is the least of my troubles” she stated and she glanced over at peter, who was watching both of them. “oh, do you mean…” gwen asked as she gestured over to the lanky boy trailing behind them, walking onto the platform as the train doors opened.

“what? no! i was mugged,” y/n announced, arching her eyebrows. peter didn’t look surprised. y/n took note of this, feeling somewhat offended that he didn’t care.

“y/n! are you okay?? how did that happen?” gwen asked, completely and utterly shocked. peter walked over. “wait, yeah… are you okay y/n?” he asked, breaking out of his anxious state for one moment.

y/n sighed softly, rolling her eyes. “i’m fine, spider-man saved me and then gave me some very unhelpful advice.” she said as she pursed her lips, her eyes darting between gwen and peter. “he’s a total ride though- i hope he’s not like… 46 or something,” she continued. gwen chuckled, covering her mouth with her hand as her cheeks turned pink. “did you get to feel his abs?” she asked as the trio walked across queens to get to school.

“yeah, they were rock hard. i didn’t expect him to be so fit!” y/n exclaimed. peter tried to stifle his blush as they got closer to the school, blocking out their conversation.

as they entered the gates, gwen quickly walked towards her class, leaving the two alone.

“um, we have math-“

“i know, peter” y/n interrupted. her voice was cold and unemotional- a stark difference form her previous cheerful demeanour. this was the guy that she was squabbling with for years now… the guy that she also maybe had a few steamy dreams about as well. her preconceived notions about peter were contradicting with her fantasies and the realities of what happened over the weekend- causing her to spiral into a semi-depressed state of rage.

peter, on the other hand, knew exactly what he thought of y/n. he always thought that she was attractive, but a total arse. now, he found her being an arse super endearing. but that could have something to do with the fact that they made out 3 times and he almost touched her boobs.

the two walked in awkward silence to their math class, a strong tension in the air. they took their seats and sat painfully silently for an hour.

y/n tapped her pen on her notebook, not listening to a word the teacher was saying. ‘fuck it,’ she thought, ripping out a piece of paper.

she scribbled a few words down before passing it over to peter.

‘make up for ghosting me by skipping second period and hiding in the unisex bathrooms’

‘sure :)’

the unisex bathrooms were dimly lit, far away from the rest of campus. surrounded by unused classrooms. the unisex bathrooms were a prime hookup spot… but for y/n, it was her own personal hotbox.

she lit the end of her joint and put her lighter in her jacket pocket as she leaned against the bathroom wall. y/n took a drag as she stared at the wall. she took another short hit, before passing it to peter. he did the same, his legs crossed.

“so why didn’t you text me, dick face?” she started, crossing her arms. smoke escaped her lips as the talked, mesmerising peter.

“dick face?” peter repeated, stifling a grin as he shook his head.

“um… i guess i didn’t know what to say,” he replied, passing back the joint. y/n smiled awkwardly as she rolled her eyes. “classic parker…”

“well, do you know what to say now?” y/n asked, sliding down to the floor, head level with peter. he shrugged his shoulders. “kinda,” he muttered.

“are you gonna say it, mcslutty?”

“i don’t appreciate the name-calling, y/n.” he said irritably, his voice somewhat breathy.

“you ghosted me too, remember?” peter added, raising his eyebrows.

“yeah, but i was mugged!” she said defensively, opening her mouth in shock. “obviously i was too busy!”

peter laughed, covering his face. “fair point.”peter pursed his lips, looking down before taking another hit of the joint.

peter took a deep breath in, tapping the floor anxiously. “i really like you, y/n” peter averted his eyes. “i used the think i didn’t, but i was just lying to myself so i wouldn’t have to confront the fact that there’s actually nice stuff about you,” he’s smirked.

y/n chuckled. “what nice stuff?”

“your face, obviously. your musical skills, your rolling skills. you’re also really funny, and you’re so generous. you’re not nice to everyone, but you still help everyone- if that makes sense? but yeah… shit like that i guess,”

y/n smiled sincerely, slightly tilting her head to the side. “that’s pretty sweet, shithead”

it took them a whole 40 seconds before they started jamming their lips together, peter’s hands gripping y/n’s waist as she sat on top of his lap. her hands cupped his face gently, occasionally pulling a hand away and running it through his hair.

she pulled away for air, before continuing her attack on his lips, her hands trailing down his torso as she fiddled with his shirt. peter pulled away, looking up at her before her eyes drifting to her hands.

“what are you doing there?” he asked teasingly, his voice limited to a hoarse whisper.

she began to frantically kiss his neck, her hands still fiddling with the fabric of his shirt. “felt something hard. wondering if you’re ripped or just really horny.” she muttered breathily, one hand resting under his shirt as she caressed his torso, while the other hand gripped a bundle of his hair.

he looked as her curiously as she felt up his chest, watching her pull away with a look of shock and confusion. “peter? what the fuck?” she exclaimed, her hair messy and cheeks red.

“what? what’s wrong?” peter asked, panicked as his eyes drifted down to his pants, before meeting her eyes again. his face turned red, putting up his hands in surrender.

“hey, you were the one grinding against my-“

“no, you’re fully ripped!” she whispered, her eyes wide as her hand retracted from under his shirt. “jesus christ…” she muttered, lifting his shirt to take a peek.

peter burst out into a fit of dry laughter, tilting his head back and lightly hitting the wall of the bathroom stall.

“oh, yeah. that.” he said casually. y/n grumbled, standing up.

“right. i was not expecting that.” she huffed, her face completely red.

“anyways, i’m not fucking you in a hot-boxed bathroom stall at school. if you decide to stop being a little bitch and message me, maybe i’ll forgive you for ghosting me.” y/n proposed, leaning against the wall as she looked down at peter.

peter nodded, standing up. he opened the door, turning to face her. “yeah, i definitely won’t be ghosting you anytime soon. sorry about that, by the way.” he murmured.

“it’s fine. just as long as you send me a picture of your abs after school.” she demanded, her face completely serious as she looked peter up and down. peter nodded, his eyes wide.

she bit her lip, meeting his eyes once again. “seriously, they’re almost as good at spider-man’s.” she added, exiting the bathroom- leaving peter alone to deal with his thoughts.

#peter parker rivals to lovers #peter parker x reader enemies to lovers #peter parker enemies to lovers #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peter x reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker #spiderman #spiderman x reader #spiderman x y/n #spiderman x you #andrew garfield #andrew garfield x reader #tom holland x reader #tom holland

[noellie-writes217]

Proposition (Pt 1)

Pairing: mcu!spiderman x blackcat

Warnings: post nwh, lonely Peter Parker, alterations to canon comics, mature themes, violence, mentions of death, maybe smut? Minors dni

Summary: after infiltrating the avengers records, Felicia finds out Spider-Man’s identity after the memory wipe, and offers to help him in exchange for…

“Fucking hell!” Peter groans as he enters his apartment through the window. He crawls over to his freezer to get something to use as an ice pack. He sets it on the counter and shoots a web to turn on the light and pulls off his mask with a sigh. He flinches once he hears an unfamiliar voice. “You know you really should think about getting a better lock for your door… or at least a deadbolt. It was way too easy to get in here.”

The Intruder was a woman with white hair in all black. She had a mask on (which barely concealed anything— in Peter’s opinion at least).

“Who the hell are you?” As she stood up he shot a web at one hand to keep her where she sat but it ricocheted and got his hand on the fridge. “Struggling with your webs, Parker?” He clenched his jaw.

“Just the only person who really knows who you are… but don’t worry; I won’t tell.” She walked to him and slid one finger along his jawline.

“What do you want?” She spun around to grab the pack of frozen vegetables and wrapped it in a towel, afterwards turning to get a rag and running it under cold water. “How do you know where everything is?” Peter asked. She shrugs, “I’ve been here for a while, a few porn videos worth- not that I’ve been watching porn! That would be totally unladylike.” She starts to ramble, admittedly, Peter thinks it’s cute.

She shakes her head and gets back to what she was originally talking about, “That’s not why I came here— look, I know who you are. Peter Parker: attended Midtown High, orphaned and raised by his aunt May who recently passed— my condolences, by the way, she seemed amazing— you also are extremely intelligent, inventive, kinda nerdy, thinks of classic movies as old, mentored by Tony Stark, asked to join the Avengers at only 15– somehow Tony wasn’t charged with child endangerment— but refused the offer, you’re also the primary reason Tony Stark agreed to help the Avengers ‘unblip’ everyone, but most importantly: you are Spiderman.”

Peter’s mind spins, “how do you know that?” Strange casted the spell only a few months ago, but there’s no way she could have figured out his identity that quickly. “Does that really matter?” She tilts her chin. “Yes!”

Peter runs his had through his hair with a sigh, “Sorry… I just… How do you know who I am?”

She straightened out her hoodie, “I hacks into the Avengers secret files. And I’m not a bad guy…” she sighs.

“Could’ve fooled me.” Peter scoffs and puts the bag of frozen peas on his brow.

The girl hesitates, “Please Peter, I need your help.”

“You gotta funny way of showing it.”

“Desperate times.”

“Why are you so desperate?” Peter pulls a beer from his fridge. No, he’s 21, but the guy he got the fake ID from was perfectly willing to give him one in exchange for an autograph from Spider-Man for his kid.

“Aren’t you 18— never mind,” she starts, “I want you to put my dad in jail.” At that, Peter nearly spits out his beer.

“And why should I do that?” He asks as he sits at his table with the girl quickly following.

“Because he’s a criminal!” She pleads. “His name is Walter Hardy and he’s not a pleasant guy. He’s a burglar.”

Peter looks her up and down skeptically, “I suspect the apple doesn’t fall far?”

The girl groans, “Peter, please! I can’t keep living with him! If he makes me hack into one more security system I might die— or worse— I won’t be able to graduate!”

“How old are you?”

“I’m supposed to graduate high school this year, and I’ve been saving up for college but if he finds out he’ll take it from me! Please!”

Peter remembers that desperation to get to college, all the work it takes to save up— and he knows what it’s like for all the hard work to be worthless. So he’s thinking about it. “What did you say your name was?”

“Felicia.”

“Alright, Felicia Hardy. Why haven’t you called the police?”

She rolls her eyes, “The police have been after him for years— at least since my mom went back to Russia… or England— I’m not sure where she ran to, but that’s besides the point.” She tangents quite a bit, Peter notices.

“Your mom left?”

Felicia nods, “During the blip. I started learning to code and Dad got the bright idea to use my newfound skill to break into the Starks’. Mom said that was the last straw and left. But I guess she forgot about me or something…” It’s silent for a moment. “I was 15.”

This girl and Peter had led two very different lives. Hers was full of lies and red since she was young; and even though Peter was an orphan, before and after his parents death he always had someone there for him to help him out.

“Please just think about it. I’ll do anything.” She begs with her hands together.

Peter just takes another sip of beer. He still thinks beer is absolutely disgusting but he’s not gonna let his face show that.

“I can’t make you a new suit— one that doesn’t get ripped up so easily, o-or give you leads on over criminals— like scorpion! Or Jackel, or Rhino, or—”

“Or some other animal?”

“Peter, please.” She grabs her bag and pulls out a ripped piece of paper with a phone number scribbled on it and some cash and puts them on the table. “Just think about it.” And with that, she gets up to leave.

“I’m not gonna do it for money!” Peter calls out as she opens the door

“It’s not for that, it’s for you to buy a deadbolt.” She winks before shutting the door behind her.

Peter goes to lock the door and uses his web shooter to seal it shut before grabbing his glasses, one of the few things that survived Goblin’s attacks.

“Edith?”

“Hello Peter. How can I help you today?” Edith asks.

“Give any information you have on Walter Hardy.”

#mcu!spiderman #tom holland #spiderman no way home #spiderman #spiderman nwh #tom holland smut #peter parker #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker smut #spiderman x black cat #tasm spiderman #Peter Parker angst #enemies to lovers #tom holland angst #peter parker x y/n #tom holland x reader #tom holland fanfiction

[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

[silkscream]

I would like to order a sangria (so cute!). A very cocky frat Tom Holland smut with a reader that hates him, but he seduces her. Involves a blowjob and him being dominant and arrogant. :)

MINORS DNI

warnings: smut (18+), degradation, dacryphilia kind of, bullying-ish, slight dubcon?, alcohol use, oral sex m receiving, mean!tom

he was obsessed with you.

obsessed with you for the sheer fact that you wouldn’t give him the time of day. refused to, actually, because from your end, whatever you felt for tom holland could be encapsulated in a small ball of rage. he thinks he might be fucked in the head for having all that hatred turn him on. every grimace and every turned cheek made him want to try harder.

you hated entitled assholes, so when frat boy tom holland decided to push his existence into your life, you decided that you hated him too.

of course, he can’t help but tease you. poke fun at the little skirts you wear by pinching the flesh of your thighs during lecture hall. he just loves to sit next to you before anyone else can. it means he can watch your pretty little face concentrate as you take notes. it means he can watch you squirm just the slightest bit from his harassment.

tom is never too mean. he pushes your boundaries, sure, but he leaves you alone the minute you’re about to blow your fuse.

at the moment, he’s definitely pushing it. throughout the night, he manages to be near you at all times, which you’d find downright absurd if you had a clearer state of mind, but the alcohol in your system was making everything a bit blurrier.

“are you stalking me?” you nearly spit when he gets you alone.

“huh?” he scoffs. “oh, you think you’re so special, don’t you?”

“i must be considering you never leave me the fuck alone.”

“you must be an idiot if you don’t understand why.”

“what the fuck are you ta—” you get rudely interrupted by his mouth on yours. his hands descend down your sides and settles on your hips as he pulls you closer to his body, and as he has you against the hallway wall, you find yourself grinding your hips against his.

“get the hint, loser?” he sneers.

you’re speechless. so speechless and dumb and drunk and morbidly curious, which is why you let him lead you to an empty bedroom.

it doesn’t take long for you to have your mouth around his cock. you hate him. you do. maybe this was just one way to shut him up. maybe.

but you can’t lie to yourself and say that him fucking your mouth right now isn’t so goddamn hot. you’re nearly leaking out of your panties from the way he grabs a fistful of your hair, neck reeling back just for your mouth to be met with his thick cock again.

“such a good little slut, huh? i didn’t think you had it in you,” tom taunts. you groan in response, tongue pressing hard against his shaft.

“fuck, just like that. yeah. your pretty mouth was just made for me, huh? you don’t know how many times i’ve gotten off thinking about you on your knees like this.”

you whine more, realizing how desperate you are for him. your saliva runs down your mouth as tears begin to prick your eyes from how hard you’re deepthroating him.

“shit, don’t look at me like that, angel,” he groans. “wanna cum in your sweet pussy instead.”

you gasp when he releases his thick cock from your mouth. you take a moment to breathe.

“tommy.”

“what, what is it, baby?” he coos. his smile is genuine. for the first time, he looks almost… kind. his brown eyes are full of adoration at your fucked out face and smudged makeup, tear stains decorating your cheeks.

“i want it. want you,” you mumble.

he wipes the remnants of your tears, hands caressing your cheeks. his grin grows bigger, canines sharp and all. “aww, baby. of course you do.”

#tom holland x you #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland smut #frat!tom holland #enemies to lovers #blurb

[angelfic]

me thinking about a vague idea for any piece of writing ever: hmmm. how can I make these characters hate each other so bad they wanna rip the others clothes off.

#i will do anything to make a fic e2l #I’m surprised all my fics aren’t #and that’s only cause they’d all be the exact same insults so I need to pace myself #ni writes #ni.txt #writing #writing problems #fanfiction #fanfic #enemies to lovers #e2l #tasm peter parker x reader #peter parker x reader #spiderman x reader #andrew Garfield x reader #sirius black x reader #remus lupin x reader #wolfstar #tom holland x reader #eddie munson x reader

[waitimcomingtoo]

Hot N Cold

Pairing: Tom Holland x Actress!Reader

Synopsis: you and Tom can’t stop teasing each other in interviews

Masterlist

“You three have spent a lot of time together making this movie. And you all seem to get along so great. Is it going to be hard to go back to making movies when you aren’t working with your best friends?” A journalist asked you, Tom, and Jacob one day on the press tour for your upcoming movie.

“No. I can’t wait for that.” Jacob answered. “I hate working with these two. They’re always arguing.”

“What? No we are not.” You insisted.

“We kinda are.” Tom said out of the corner of his mouth.

“No we are not. Why do you always have to disagree with me?” You asked and playfully smacked Tom’s arm.

“That’s a good point. You’re right. I do always disagree with you.” Tom said sincerely. “But maybe it’s because you’re always wrong?”

“You wish.” You scoffed. “Name one time I was wrong.”

“Yesterday, when you drove on the wrong side of the road.” He said immediately.

“That couldn’t happened to anyone, okay? It was not clearly marked.”

“It was clearly marked but you flew past the several giant “wrong way” signs because you’re a speed demon on the road.”

“That’s sexist.” You pointed at him. “You’re saying all women are bad drivers?”

“No. I’m saying this woman is a bad driver.” Tom said and pointed back at you. “You really don’t help the stereotype, darling.”

“Whatever. Fake news.” You rolled your eyes. “Ask us the next question please before I kill him.”

“All righty then. So, you’re all a few years out of high school now. How did you prepare for getting back into the mindset of a teenager?” The journalist asked.

“It was a really fun process actually. The director wanted to emulate a kinda 80s high school movie feel so he asked us to watch a few old movies so we could get the vibe he was going for. Like Breakfast Club, Back to the Future, stuff like that.” You explained.

“Yeah. We watched a few of them together.” Tom smiled as he looked over at you.

“Yeah, we did.” You smiled back at him.

“On your little movie dates in Tom’s trailer. That I was never invited to.” Jacob added. Tom blushed and looked down at his lap while you playfully rolled your eyes.

“They weren’t dates.” Tom insisted. “We were just watching the films we were told to watch.”

“You didn’t think those were dates?” You asked him, sounding hurt. Tom went bright red and scrambled to come up with something to say to explain himself.

“What?” Tom gulped. “No. I mean, I never thought of it like that but-“

“I’m messing with you.” You cut him off when you saw how flustered he got.

“Oh. You scared me so much just then. I didn’t know what to say.” He laughed and touched a cold hand to his hot face.

“I knew it would scare you. You’re so easy to make flustered.” You teased him, making him blush again.

“Hey.” He pouted. “I am not.”

“Yeah, okay.” You said sarcastically.

“Okay.” He mimicked you by sounding as dumb as possible.

“That actually brings me to my next question which was to ask you all to do an impression of each other.” The journalist said, making you and Tom remember that you were in an interview.

“If you want to impersonate Y/n, just whine and complain a bunch.” Tom said. “And leave your jumper on every plane you go on.”

“Okay, I’ve lost like three sweatshirts around you. That’s hardly anything.” You defended yourself.

“Imagine losing your jumper every time your travel.” Tom said to the camera.

“Imagine losing 13 colonies at once.” You snapped back.”

“Stop. You know I’m sensitive about that.” Tom jokingly whined, making you laugh.

“I can do a Tom impression. Um I want to ask Y/n to go to dinner with me um tonight but um what if I ask her and she says no?” Jacob said in a whiny voice coupled with a bad British accent.

“What?” Tom sputtered. “That’s not what I sound like.”

“Yes it is.” Jacob insisted. “I heard that every night during filming. In fact, I still hear it.”

“Aw. Wait, that’s so cute. Did you actually do that?” You asked Tom.

“Only in the beginning, okay? It wasn’t as pathetic as Jacob made it sound. I wanted to hang out with you but we didn’t really know each other yet so I was worried you’d say no.”

“Aw, honey.” You chuckled. “I would’ve never said no. I wanted to get to know you too.”

“I’ll never understand you two. You were fighting two seconds ago. Now you’re all nice and friendly?” Jacob pointed out.

“That’s just how we work.” You shrugged.

“Yeah.” Tom agreed. “We run hot and cold.”

“Exactly. But we’re friends most of the time. I don’t think we fight that much.” You replied.

“You kinda do, though.” Jacob insisted. “I’m expecting at least two more fights before the end of this interview.”

“We’ll see.” You shrugged but knew he was probably right.

“So, the press schedule is obviously very rigorous for a movie this size. Do you guys ever get a day off to do your own thing?” The journalist asked.

“We actually had a day off a little while ago. For Washington’s Birthday.” Tom answered.

“George?” You asked him.

“What other Washington is there?” He turned in his seat to ask you.

“You were just talking about one the other day. When we were asked what historical figure we’d have dinner with.” You reminded him.

“I remember the question but I didn’t say Washington.” Tom frowned on confusion.

“Yes you did. You said that Washington guy and then said it was a super British answer or something.” You insisted.

“Who are you talking about?” Tom shook his head and laughed endearing at you.

“That guy. Don’t you remember? You just said it yesterday.” You whined a little and pushed his arm. Tom looked at the camera in confusion before he connected the dots in his head.

“Wait, do you mean Winston Churchill?”

“Oh God.” Jacob groaned. “Here we go.”

“Oh yeah. Him.” You nodded and pointed at Tom.

“You thought his name was Washington Churchill?” Tom laughed incredulously.

“Well I don’t know who he is. It sounded right in my head.” You defended yourself.

“You don’t know who Winston Churchill is? He’s super important to history.”

“Oh yeah? So who is he?” You challenged Tom, knowing damn well he didn’t know the answer.

“He…” Tom started to answer and then trailed off.

“See!” You clapped your hands. “You don’t even know. I knew you were bullshitting yesterday. You have no idea what Washington Churchill-“

“Winston.” He corrected you.

“Whatever. You have no idea what he did. And yet you said you wanted to have dinner with him just to sound smart. Ugh. So pretentious.” You groaned and playfully rolled your eyes.

“All right, smart ass. Who was your answer?” Tom leaned on his chair and asked you. You were both in your own little worlds now and fully ignoring everyone else in the room.

“Jonbenet Ramsey.” You said like it was obvious.

“Are you kidding me? You’re making fun of my answer but you would pick Gordon Ramsey’s daughter out of anyone in the world to have dinner with?”

“First of all, dingbat, Jonbenet Ramsey is a little pageant girl who was murdered in 1996 and they still haven’t solved the case. I want to have dinner with her because I want to know who did it. It’s a very famous true crime case but I guess they didn’t teach you that in college. Oh wait. You didn’t go. You were too busy making movies nobody ever saw.” You said and poked his chest.

“Don’t even go there.” Tom warned. “If I pull up your IMDB right now, I’d have to scroll through dozens of commercials and straight to DVD films before I got to any substantial roles. Don’t think I forgot about all the time you spent on the Hallmark channel, darling.”

“Do it. Pull up my IMDB right now. I dare you. You know what, I’ll do it for you.” You said and pulled out your phone. Jacob immediately snatched your phone and put it in his pocket.

“No. Please, no more. We’re not doing this again. I can’t hear the IMDB argument again. You said you weren’t gonna fight anymore.” Jacob pointed out.

“All right. Fine. I’m disengaging.” You said and held your hands up in defense.

“Finally, some silence.” Tom sighed in relief. You gave him an icy stare and his smile immediately dropped.

When you sat down to do press the next day, you thought about what Tom had said about running hot and cold. You liked the playful fights you got into but you didn’t want him to start to think you actually disliked him. So when he came into the room and sat next to you, you got an idea.

“Good morning, darling.” He said politely.

“You know what Tom, why don’t we make a point to not fight today?” You suggested.

“Well darling, that’s the first good idea you’ve ever had.” He said with a smug smile. You smiled sarcastically at him as you narrowed your eyes.

“You’re so funny.” You said sarcastically. “How come you’re perpetually single?”

“Because I haven’t worn you down yet and gotten you to go out with me.” He quipped.

“Aw. You want to wear me down? So romantic. I can feel it working already.” You gushed and winked at him. Even though you were kidding, he felt himself blush and had to look away. The interviewer came in then and started to ask you a few questions. You managed to get through most of the interview before any fighting broke out.

“Okay. Now we’re gonna play a game called kiss, marry, kill. Your choices are Scarlett Johansson, Robert Downey Jr, and miss Y/n L/n.” The interview said.

“Oh God. That last actress is the worst.” Tom mumbled under his breath. You gave him a look and he faked an innocent smile.

“I mean I love her.” He corrected.

“Well Tom’s answer for kiss is obviously me.” You said simply.

“What? Obviously?” He scoffed.

“Yeah. Obviously.” You scoffed back to mock him.

“Excuse you. How is it obvious?” He asked and turned in his chair to face you. He mostly did this to keep the camera from seeing how much he was blushing.

“Please. You want to kiss me so bad. And marry me and kill me. So Tom’s answer to all of them is me.”

“That’s what you think, huh?” Tom smiled and leaned on his chair to be closer to you.

“That’s what I know. I can tell you’re dying to get with me. There is no use hiding it.” You shrugged, making Tom grow redder.

“Do you hear how conceited she is? What a diva you are. I’m gonna spread a rumor that you’re difficult to work with.” Tom teased you right back.

“Maybe you find it difficult to work with me because of how bad you want me.” You shrugged.

“Oh please. You’re just projecting because you have a big fat crush on me.” Tom replied.

“What?” You laughed. “In your dreams, maybe. I only go for guys over 5’9. You just missed the cut off, buddy.”

“Not just in my dreams. In my reality.” Tom insisted. “And I’m the average height of a woman so now you’re the one being sexist. But come on, we said no fighting. What would your answer be?”

“Oh yeah. I forgot about the question. Okay, let me think.” You tapped your chin. “I would kiss Bradley Cooper-“

“What? He wasn’t even an option.” Tom laughed in surprised.

“Oh shit. My bad.” You covered your mouth with your hand.

“How did his name even come up?” Tom asked you, feeling a little jealousy bubble up.

“Because.” You smiled coyly. “Have you seen him? He’s double handsome. He looks like a sexy UPS truck driver. I’d sign for that package I’ll tell you that right now.”

“I can’t believe you’re cheating on your husband with Bradley Cooper.” Tom shook his head.

“My husband?”

“Me.” Tom said like it was obvious, making you laugh.

“I know you’re kidding but you kinda are though. I was just saying that to Jacob the other day.”

“About me? You said I was your husband?” Tom smiled in surprise.

“Yeah. You’re my work husband. That’s why we’re so hot and cold. Because we’re like an old married couple.” You smiled and patted his arm.

“Aw. We are.” He gushed. “But you still never answered the question.”

“Oh my God. Who were the choices again?”

“Johansson, Downey, and yourself.”

“Okay. I think my answer is kill Johansson, sorry Scarlett, I love you. I’d marry Downey for that Iron Man money and then kiss myself.”

“You’d kiss yourself? Why?” Tom wondered.

“Because no one else will.” You groaned. “When I woke up this morning and I tallied in my head how long it’s been since I’ve been on a date and once I reached a conclusion, I started to cry.”

“Oh God. Has it really been that long?” Tom laughed.

“It’s been so long. We can’t talk about this right now. I’m gonna start crying again.” You said and pretended to wipe your eyes.

“Wow. I didn’t realize this game would bring out so many emotions.” The journalist laughed.

“Me either. God. I need a date.” You sighed in exasperation.

“All right. I got the hint. I’ll go out with you.” Tom rolled his eyes playfully.

“Oh, please. You wish I’d go out with you.”

“On every eye lash and 11:11, yeah.” He replied. You laughed and playfully smacked his arm as you wondered if he was telling the truth or not. The interview went on but you were barely paying attention as you were too busy wondering if you relationship with Tom was part of the reason you had been single for so long. No matter how nice or funny a guy was, you always ended up comparing them to Tom. If they couldn’t make you laugh as much or keep up with you the way he could, they just didn’t interest you. It didn’t help that In between your arguing and teasing, Tom always managed to slip some flirting in there. The more you thought about it, you realized he hadn’t been in a relationship since meeting you either. And maybe that had something to do with you.

“What do you think?” The journalist asked you. You blinked a few times and came back into the conversation.

“Sorry, what?”

“What was going on in there? You seemed so deep in thought.” Tom smiled fondly and poked your head.

“Don’t touch me, nail biter.” You said and swatted his hand away.

“At least I don’t stink up the whole hotel room by painting my nails every single day.” He shot back in a playful manner.

“Excuse me for wanting polished nails for these interviews. I just happen to chip them a lot. And if you don’t like the smell, go back to your own room. Stop always hanging out in mine.”

“But then how would I get to see you?” He asked with his stupid charming smile.

“What are you talking about?” You laughed. “We literally spend all day together in these interviews. Isn’t that enough for you?”

“With you, darling, there’s never enough time together.” He said with a sarcastic suaveness.

“Shut up.” You laughed again and looked down at your lap so he couldn’t see how that made you blush. He saw it anyway since he couldn’t never seem to take his eyes off you.

The next day, your relationship with Tom was heavy on your mind as you sat in your glam chair. You were spaced out all during hair and makeup as you thought about the possibility of becoming more than friends. You were more than ready to see him but when you walked into the press junket room, you only saw two chairs and Jacob occupying one of them.

“Oh. We’re paired together today?” You asked without realizing how disappointed you sounded.

“I’m sorry. I know you’d rather be with your boyfriend.” Jacob chuckled. You playfully rolled your eyes at him and hugged him hello.

“He’s not my boyfriend. But I do miss him.” You admitted as you sat in your chair.

“You know nobody believes that, right? You guys are clearly together.” Jacob snorted.

“We’re really not. I know how it looks but we’re just friends.” You insisted.

“Come on. There’s no way you two haven’t made out or something.”

“Maybe we have, maybe we have.” You shrugged, making Jacob gasp.

“Oh my God. I knew it. He wouldn’t admit it but I knew you two were hooking up.” He clapped his hands.

“We’re actually not.” You laughed. “It’s just funny to see people fight for their lives to prove that we’re together. I like to feed the flame sometimes with these interviews. You know, keep them all on their toes.”

“Really? Because I could’ve sworn you two were hooking up on set. You were always sneaking off together and no one could find you.”

“That’s just because we liked to spend time together. But we would never hook up. If we ever get together, it’s gonna be the real thing. I’m talking marriage and kids and a picket fence. And whatever the British equivalent of the American Dream is. Beans and toast maybe? I don’t know. But definitely not a hook up.”

“So what’s stopping you guys from being in a relationship now? You like him, don’t you? Why not just date?” Jacob wondered.

“I don’t know. We’ve gotten really close the past few months. I know we tease each other a lot, but I’ve never had that kind of banter with anybody. Talking with him and going back and forth is the best at part of my day. And of course I like him, but what if I say something but he doesn’t feel the same? That’ll make our friendship super awkward and don’t forget- we signed on for another movie. I don’t want to make things weird by suggesting we go out.”

“Oh my God.” Jacob laughed. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

“What?” You wondered.

“You can’t be this oblivious. Why do you think he’s always starting fights with you?”

“Because he’s irritating?”

“Well, yes. But also because he’s crazy about you.”

“What? No he’s not.” You scoffed. “He just likes to push my buttons.”

“Y/n, seriously, I’m telling you-“

Before Jacob could finish his sentence, the interviewer walked in with the camera crew. You and Jacob quickly dropped the conversation and turned to shake the interviewers hand. Your interview began and you had to force yourself to listen instead of thinking about what Jacob was about to say before he was interrupted.

Later that day, you went back to your hotel room and collapsed on your bed. It had been a long, long day of press and you weren’t with Tom for any of it. You saw him briefly at lunch but barely got a word in before getting shuffled to the next interview. You had just kicked your shoes off when there was a hasty knock at your door. You groaned and went over to it before opening it up.

“What?” You whined like a little kid. Tom put his hands on his waist and pushed you into the room before shutting the door behind him.

“If you’re gonna stay here I’m warning you right now that I chipped my thumb and I’m two seconds away from pulling out my nail polish-“

“I heard what you said.” He blurted to cut you off.

“Um, can you be more a little more specific?” You laughed. “You know I try to talk to you as little as possible.”

“Can we be serious for one minute?” Tom said hastily. You frowned in confusion but nodded your head and sat down. You’d never heard him sound so serious before so you dropped your usual mocking banter. You patted the spot next to you and he nervously sat down.

“What’s up?” You asked him. Tom scratched the back of his head before nervously cracking his knuckles.

“I just gotta talk to you about something.”

“Tom, you’re freaking me out. What’s going on?” You asked and put a hand on his back. He took a deep breath and looked at you.

“I heard you when you were talking to Jacob. I was walking by and I heard my name so I stopped and I listened.” He admitted.

“Oh, shit. You heard all that?” You grimaced. Tom was unphased and kept looking into your eyes.

“Did you mean what you said? Do you really think we’re gonna do the real thing one day? House and kids and-“

“-And beans and toast.” You cut in.

“Yeah. And that.” He chuckled softly. “Did you mean all that? Do you really see a future with us?”

“I mean, I did before I found out you were an eavesdropper.” You mumbled out of the corner of your mouth.

“Are you kidding me? I’m trying to have a serious conversation with you for once in our lives but you can’t be serious for one minute.” Tom huffed and sat on the bed next to you.

“This is who is am.” You shrugged. “You came to the silly lake and you found a silly goose. I don’t know what to tell you.”

Tom let out a dry laugh before looking at you. You looked into his eyes and saw that for once, he looked completely serious. You frowned at the unexpected candor in his eyes and gave him your full attention.

“Tell me you want me.” He said. “As much as I’ve wanted you since the day we met.”

“You do?” You asked doubtfully.

“Why do you think I invited you to watch all those movies with me? Or hang out in your hotel room every night? I want to be around you all the time. I just didn’t know how to say that since we’re never…” He trailed off as he searched for the right word.

“Serious.” You finished his sentence for him with a knowing smile.

“Exactly. I love joking around with you. I love how much you challenge me to come up with a better insult. I even love being teased for my nationality. But I also love when we just get to talk. I love to hear your perspective on things. I just like being near you.”

“Is this a practical joke?” You asked skeptically.

“Bitch, do I look like four lifelong best friends who compete to embarrass each other to you?” Tom sassed you. You gave him a warning look and he mumbled an apology.

“So you’re telling me you actually like me? For my personality?” You asked him.

“No, darling. I like you in spite of your terrible, garbage personality.” Tom teased you. You rolled your eyes at him but found yourself leaning in closer.

“I hate you.” You narrowed your eyes at him.

“I hate you too. See how much we can agree on?” Tom replied and smoothly put his arm around you. You looked over at the arm that was on your shoulders as you thought about what he was saying.

“You do realize if you were my boyfriend, we’d be fighting all the time.” You pointed out.

“We do that anyway.” He shrugged. “Why not throw some kissing and domestic partnership in there?”

“Oh, so I was right? You do want to kiss me, huh?” You raised your eyebrows as you teased him.

“Well, I have lips, you have lips, why not put them to use?”

“You have lips?” You pretended to gasp. “Where have you been hiding them this whole time?”

“Oh my God. You are such a little-“

You cut him off by cupping his face and pulling him into a kiss. He insulted left his head immediately as he wrapped his arms around you to kiss you back.

“I want you too.” You told him once you pulled away. He smiled in surprise and pressed his forehead against yours.

“Even though we can’t agree on anything?” He joked.

“Even though your hairline is receding, yes.” You replied.

“That wasn’t what I-“

“Shh.” You hushed him and kissed him again. “Don’t ruin the moment.”

Tag List 🏷️

@thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling

@tom-hollands-wifey

@whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings

@imyourliquor-youremypoison @andreasworlsboring101

@peterparkoure

@justcallmehitgirl @jackiehollanderr

@emmamarshmellow @unbelievableholland

@sovereignparker @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @eridanuswave​ ​

@solarxmoonchild @canyouevencauseicant

@quaksonhehe @lovelessdagger

@thesuitelifeofafangirl @marshxx @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie

@maybemona

@alexxcorona113 @lethal-wisdom

@pandaxnienke

 @officialsimppage @peterbenjiparker @itsemohours

@freakofmusic25 @tomholland85

@olixerwxxd @leilanixx

@whereismytelephone @so-very-asleep @white-wolf1940

@spideyspeaches @hihiweezing

@mathletemadison  

@dhtomholland @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @prancerrparkerr

@hallecarey1 @adayasgeorgia @blackwidowisthebest @imawhoreforu

@ciarahollands

#tom holland x reader #tom holland fluff #tom holland x actress!reader #tom holland enemies to lovers #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x famous!reader

[lauras-collection]

don't blame me ✮ nathan drake smut ✮ teaser

|| Masterlist ||

Summary: Ever since Nate broke your trust years ago the two of you have been rivals. This was supposed to be just another treasure hunt. But little did you know it’s gonna change everything.

Words: 500 (whole fic is 8k) 

Warnings: none for the teaser 

A/N: I finally finally get to share this fic with you guys. It’s taken me so long to write it’s not even funny. Full fic coming friday!! Enjoy!!

Feedback is always appreciated ❤️ 

You’ve got to be kidding me. You think to yourself as your eyes land on none other than Nathan Drake. You’d hoped this would be a job without crossing paths with him. But you’re just not getting a break from him. 

You can’t stand Nate. 

That hadn’t always been the case, though. You used to be best friends and went treasure hunting together. You and Nate had been a team until he went behind your back. You never expected to be betrayed like that. 

You live and you learn.

“Look who it is.” Nate smirks and you can’t help but roll your eyes.

“What are you doing here? You on vacation?” You ask, even though you know he’s here for the same reason as you: He wants the treasure.

“Unfortunately, no. But I’m sure you already knew that.”  

“I thought you’d given up on treasure hunting after the last one slipped right through your fingers. Again.” You cross your arms in front of your chest. 

“I’m not doing it for the money, sweetheart.” You hate it when he calls you sweetheart and he knows it. You try not to show how much it annoys you as you take a sip from your drink. You wanted to unwind at a bar before leaving for the jungle tomorrow morning. But now Nate’s here and it’s stressing you out.

You put the glass back down on the bar and rest your elbow against the wooden surface. “Oh, really? Does your bartending gig really pay that well?” 

“Someone’s been keeping an eye on me, huh?” As a matter of fact, you have. You’re not proud of it, but Nate has been a thorn in your side for years and as much as you’d like to forget about him, you need to keep tabs on him so you can stay ahead of him.

“Of course, I need to make sure you’re staying away from me.” 

“You sure that’s the reason?” He raises one eyebrow and you’ve already had enough of him. It’s not even been five minutes.

“I’m sure.”

He leans in so close you can smell him. You hate to admit it but he smells divine.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ve been keeping an eye on you as well.” A shiver runs down your spine but you try to ignore it. Nate doesn’t deserve these reactions from you. But your body doesn’t seem to care.

“When are you leaving?” You ask, and finally, he puts more distance between you.

“This bar? Why? You wanna come to my hotel room with me?” He smirks and you ball your fists in anger. 

“You know what I mean.”

He tilts his head to the side. “Bummer. We could have a lot of fun Y/N.” He knocks on the the bar, turns around and then he’s gone. Without telling you when he’s leaving.

You mutter a few curses under your breath. It would be best to leave as soon as possible, but you have to wait for your boss to give you the final clue to find the treasure. 

A/N: full fic coming friday may 13th! let me know if you wanna be tagged! (preferably by ask but you can also reply to this post!)

besties tag: @spidermanlondon​ ☆ @duskholland​ ☆ @heyhihellowhatsup0​ ☆ @annathesillyfriend​ ☆ @hazofmyheart​ ☆ @emilykjh​ ☆ @sinisterspidey​ ☆ @lovebittenbyevans​ ☆ @miraclesoflove​ ☆ @seasidetom ☆ @selfcarecap​ ☆ @missevrythingg​ ☆ @userholland​ ☆ @softholand​  ☆ @hotforharrison​ ☆ @osterfield-holland-andcompany​ ☆ @thecodyexpress​ ☆ @worldoftom​ 

#nathan drake x reader #nathan drake smut #nathan drake angst #nathan drake fluff #nathan drake fic #nathan drake fanfic #nathan drake uncharted #tom holland #enemies to lovers

[swirlypearls]

hello !

i am a aspiring writer who is hoping to share some pieces and grow as an author here 🤍

let me know what kind of stories you would like me to write !!

i’m open to writing anything as long as it’s not too weird 😅

thanks for reading and please be niceee 🙃🙃

fandoms i’ll write for 🙂🙂

- never have i ever

- spiderverse

- my hero academia

- the summer i turned pretty

- xo kitty

- cobra kai (not karate kid, sorry!)

- celebrities

you x someone you know (must include personality traits in request)

tropes i’ll write for !!

- angst

- smut

- fluff

- friends to lovers

- enemies to lovers

- platonic relationships

- unrequited love

#across the spiderverse #never have i ever #my hero academy fanfiction #cobra kai #friends to enemies #friends to lovers #enemies to friends trope #enemies to lovers #mafia boss x reader #ryan gosling #micheal cimino #ethan morales #tom holland #andrew garfield #izuku midoriya

[sofiahahaaa]

HEY NEIGHBOR - Tom Holland x Reader

Description: Reader is new to LA, trying to get her start as a screenwriter. She finds out on her first night in town that she has some famous company in her apartment block, and she never seems to be on the right terms with him.

A/N: So, I had this idea, and I requested it from a writing blog I really like, but I can’t force them to write anything, so I decided… finals are over, I should just write it myself! And this way– I HAVE TOTAL CONTROL. Anyways– I haven’t published any of my writing since my PJO series… which is still incomplete. AHEM. Let’s not talk about it, I don’t have the motivation to finish.

 Alright. So. This is not a writing blog, but I do enjoy writing! So I will do this! For myself! And everyone else who reads, of course. That is to say, it's been a while, but I hope you enjoy!

Warnings:  18+ some cursing, mentions of sex, and a little bit of angst. Fem!Reader, sick hurt/comfort, heavy alcohol use, possessiveness/jealousy. Girlboss reader.

Wordcount: 12.6k

Pt 1. WELCOME

I brushed my hair back as I waited for the front desk to hand me my new keys. My nerves had me picking my hands raw. 

This was it. I was in LA, lo and behold, and I… had no plans. I should’ve made plans.

I bit my lip anxiously, trying to tune out the annoying clicking of someone’s keyboard. Don’t be stressed. It’ll all be okay.  

Finally, the meek man at the front desk popped back up, his wild blue hair flying everywhere. He stuck out his hand awkwardly, key dangling from his dirty fingers.

“Here you go Ms… ms…” He looked positively in pain as he tried to remember my name.

“Y/N is fine. Just, um–” I grabbed the keys and picked up my bag again. “Which unit?”

“Unit– uh– 320.”

“3rd floor?”

“Um– yes. Yeah.”

“Okay, thank you, Mr. Laurence.” I said, glancing at his name tag. The guy was certainly a hot mess. I hoped I didn’t look that way. 

Traffic made the ride from the airport to my new apartment building about an hour long (double the time it should’ve been), and  after a 2-hour plane delay, I was just rushing to make sure I got here in time to meet the moving guys. I hadn’t had a chance to check that I still looked… presentable.

I lugged my carry-on suitcases down the hallway and up the stairs (elevator wasn’t working) until finally, I found my apartment. Man, having to make that walk all the time would not be enjoyable.

I shuffled around in my bag for about a minute trying to find the damn keys, which I couldn’t have possibly lost already– oh, there. 

Finally, with a satisfying clunk, I slid the keys in and unlocked the door, opening it to take in the wonderful smell of… apartment. It was so plain. A fresh start. This was a good sign.

My boxes were already there, complete with a little note. Guess I didn’t make it to meet the moving guys. It was alright, though– everything seemed to be there. And because it was just a one-bedroom, there wasn’t really a ‘wrong’ place to put the boxes.

This, I could work with. I moved around to set my bag down on the counter, taking in my new digs. It was surprisingly nice for how cheap the rent was. Relatively new doors, modern appliances, barely a sign of ceiling stains from water leakage. There had to be something wrong, right?

Just then, I heard a loud crash from next door. Hmm. Maybe that was the issue.

I shrugged it off and started tearing open boxes. It was such a small apartment; I didn’t get why my mom insisted on me hiring moving guys. I told her that if she wanted to keep all my stuff from my old place, she could just hire the moving guys to come to her house. The apartment wasn’t furnished yet, but it wasn’t like I had to keep my old stuff. I liked the idea of starting anew. 

Alas, my mom is the kind of person to always get what she wants, so thus, the moving guys were hired, and now my apartment was already full of stuff, and I had just arrived.

I had only torn open 2 boxes by the time my phone started ringing, lighting up with my mom’s caller ID. I left the stack of books I was trying to organize and picked up the phone. “Heyyy sweetie…”

“Hi mama. What’s up?”

“Well, I figured you were all settled right about now and that I should call you to make sure you’re doing well!”

“Actually, mom, I just landed.”

“What? But your flight was for 11 am!”

“Yeah, but it was delayed from Phoenix.” I paused, holding my scissors between my teeth as I looked for my bedding box.

“No! LAX is such a nightmare– I can’t believe I have to fly through there every time I want to see you.” My mother huffed, hard to read but hopefully in a playful tone. 

“It’s not so bad.” I tried to interject, but she left me with silence. “Okay, so it’s pretty bad. Anyways, I’m just unpacking some stuff before I go out to dinner.”

“Dinner? Do you have plans with someone? Not a date, right?” My mom already sounded worried.

“No, mom. Just me. I mean dinner, like… Chipotle. Not a fancy dinner.”

“Oh, okay. Well, stay safe!”

“I’ll try.” I hung up before she could carry on the call. Seriously, the sun was almost setting and I had barely fixed the apartment.

I had been at it for what seemed like hours, blasting my favorite music and unpacking things at rapid speed. I wasn’t new to unpacking, either. My old job in sales and marketing had me traveling all the time, so I was in and out of my old apartment every other day. It was probably why I could never hold down a relationship. It was sad and lonely, but it paid really well, especially since I was straight out of college. 

Finally, with enough savings, I had decided to pursue my true dream in Hollywood: writing stories that so many people around the world would see. My work, on the big screen.

It was risky. My employer was shocked when I handed in my two weeks; I think because he had basically given me everything I could ever ask for. Sure, I felt bad, but it wasn’t like they relied on me 100%. And I wanted a change, quick.

So here I was, arranging chairs at the countertop and throwing my old throw pillows on my old couch. Shiny new apartment, shiny new city. Exhilarating. 

All of the sudden, I heard a loud knock at my door, sending me out of my unpacking haze. I rushed to the door, straightening out my shirt and trying to hide my sweat stains. Ah shit, my hair.

Whatever: I don’t care if my neighbor sees me like this, it’s going to happen a lot more.

I opened the door wide, immediately shocked with who was on the other side.

“Tom… Holland?” I took a deep breath and blinked hard. I had to be seeing things.

“That would be me.” He smirked a little, straightening his cuff.

“Sorry, are you my neighbor?” Why did Tom Holland live in a moderately priced apartment building– not to mention one that was decently far away from anything significant?

“Well, I do live in the apartment unit right next to yours, so I suppose I would be.” He was being… snarky.

I couldn’t lie, he was attractive– I was a huge fan of Spiderman and, well, how he plays Spiderman, but I’d never expected him to be so… uppity. No, that wasn’t the right word. He wasn’t posh, necessarily. Just had an air about him that made him seem superior to you. I was sure he could be perfectly sweet if given the chance, but with me– he would never get the chance. I’d make sure of it. I’m going to be working with celebrities all the time if my career takes off; so, I have to learn to speak to them– like normal people. Right. Just some practice for the big leagues.

“You suppose?” I said, mocking his accent. He made a face.

“You got me. I’m British,”

“Funny.” I held in an actual laugh, knowing that just a chuckle from me would boost his ego through the roof. “But in all seriousness, is there a reason you came over? I know you are a star and you know, you have such a busy life–”

“Oh, if that’s how it is–” He made like he was going to walk out the door. I bit my lower lip and decided to have some restraint.

“No, I’m sorry. I’m being rude. Why did you choose to grace me with your presence on this fine day?” He turned back to me, resting his arm on my door jamb.

“Well, I know you’re new, but the blasting of music… you gotta keep it down. We have thin walls here, darling.”

I swallowed a gasp when he called me darling. LA is absolutely surreal. “Oh… I see.” I pouted, “You don’t like my taste in music?”

“It’s not the music, love. It’s your singing. It’s like in the shower, except we can hear you. And you don’t have range.”

I rolled my eyes. “Ouch! You think you can do better?” I instantly winced, remembering he had a history on the West End. Stupid.

“I definitely can.” He was still smiling, though– so, no harm, no foul.

I raised my hands up playfully. “Okay, I surrender. I’ll stop singing– but the music is staying on.”

“Actually, I do have a date over right now– so could you turn it down? Or… put in some headphones?”

I could feel my heart beating. A date? So he wasn’t… flirting.

Or maybe he was. Maybe it was a casual thing with his… date. 

“A date? Didn’t know you were dating anyone!”

“Well, it’s not exactly public. We are thinking of moving in together, however, so I suppose you should meet her as well.”

So it was serious. There go my chances. “Any other secret roommates you want to tell me about?”

“Actually, yeah. My brother Sam is living with me right now. He’s quite the chef, so maybe you could come over for supper in the future.”

“I might; I’m not exactly financially equipped for gourmet, so a free dinner is appealing.”

“You’re a funny one. Alright, well–” His apartment door came open, the girl who I assumed was his girlfriend poking her head out the door.

“Babe? Are you coming back to bed?” She whined. Yikes, wouldn’t have taken him to end up with this kind of girl.

“Soon, sweetheart. I’m introducing myself to the new neighbor.” He explained, eyes tired.

She stepped out of the doorway, and thankfully she was dressed. “Hmm,” she moaned lightly. Does his girlfriend always make sex sounds when speaking casually? She was eyeing me up and down, eating me up with her eyes. “She’s pretty,” she said, a hint of jealousy in her eyes. Jealous? Of a girl he just met? “Are you sure she’s not some crazy fan?”

“She’s right there, baby.” Tom reminded her. “And I doubt she’s ‘some crazy fan’. She seemed genuinely surprised that I was her neighbor.”

“Who even is she?”

“Why don’t you ask her?” Tom replied. She shrugged. Seemed like… a brat. “Okay– actually, I don’t remember your name– please tell me I haven’t asked yet.”

“No, you haven’t. My name’s Y/N, uh, L/N.”

“That’s a pretty name,” he said almost without thinking, then immediately looked guiltily at his girlfriend. Apparently, that’s exactly what she was looking for, because she was pouting at him for making that comment. “Um, but– the prettiest of all, the queen of my world right here– her name is Emily.”

“Nice to meet you, Emily.” I stuck out my hand to shake hers, but she neglected to return the shake. I let my hand drop to my side and rubbed the back of my neck awkwardly. “Well then. Tom, Emily, nice to meet you both. I’ll turn down that music for you. We can… catch up soon.”

I dropped back into my apartment, sitting on the floor, defeated. That girl was… toxic– but I couldn’t get involved. It was someone else’s relationship. For now, I would have to focus less on the hot neighbor, and more on the journey ahead of me.

Pt 2. REFERRAL

“Yep. Yep, got it. No, it’s totally fine. Yep. Okay. Bye.” I hung up the phone in frustration. Another rejection. Nobody would hire me with no experience and the wrong degree. All of the work I had done independently was nothing in this kind of industry. I slumped face down onto the floor, my face hitting the cold wood.

“AHHHHHHHHH,” I screamed in frustration. 2 weeks of nothing but rejection and tears. The stress was building up, and my part time job at the Starbucks down the street wasn’t paying the bills. “FUCK!” I screamed again, kicking the ground as hard as I could without hurting myself.

I had been laying there, crying, for a couple minutes, when I heard a knock on my door. I didn’t answer it. I didn’t want anyone to see me like this.

“Y/N?” Ugh, it was Tom.

You know, being neighbors with Tom wasn’t all I had hoped it would be. I had barely spoken to him since the night you’d met, save for a couple interactions on the way to get the mail or take out the trash. I’d almost seen his girlfriend more than him, and everytime she saw me she gave me that horrid catty look. She was… the worst, to put it lightly.

Oh, and the sex. No, not with him. Him and… Emily, just going at it. If anything, I guessed Tom was staying with that nightmare because the sex was good. Sometimes the moans coming through the walls were so loud that even my sound-blocking headphones wouldn’t block out that shit. That paired with the sound of the bed hitting the wall made me want to jump off the roof of the building.

Tom went silent, and I sighed, hitting the floor with my forehead again. Then, I heard the door creak open. Before I could sit up to protest, Tom spoke. “You left it unlocked.”

“So you just walked in?”

“Being a friend, I wanted to see what was wrong with you.” He shrugged.

“Gee, thanks. Besides, what makes you think we’re friends?” I shot back, genuinely upset.

Tom mocked being hurt. “What’s wrong with me?”

“I could tell you, but you have to answer my questions first.” 

“Okay, sounds fair.”

“Is your girlfriend going to barge through that door in a second and kill me for speaking to you?” I sat up fully.

“I don’t… think so? She’s away at the moment. And why do you say it like that?” Tom had a small frown scrawled on his face.

“She’s… I’m going to be honest with you, because I honestly couldn’t care less if you hate me. She’s a nightmare. She’s so rude. I can’t believe you’re– actually, I’m not going to finish that sentence.” This time, he seemed genuinely shocked.

“I didn’t realize you felt that way.” I couldn’t decipher whether he was disappointed or just upset with me for being so blunt about it.

“Of course not. We’ve barely spoken.”

“Yeah… yeah. Okay, you said ‘questions’. What are the other ones?” He sat down on my couch, kicking one of his legs over the other in a weird cross.

“Why did you come over?”

“Because you were screaming. It was really loud– and distracting.” He crossed his arms.

“Oh nooo, me losing another job is so devastating to you, oh noooo.” I rolled my eyes.

“Apologies, but did you say… another job?” I was ready to blow up on him right then and there, but I held it back in my throat.

“Been having some trouble getting a job with practically no experience.” I coughed out, blinking away my emotions.

“What do you do?”

“I’m trying to get a job writing for a show or movie… or, anything.”

“I know a lot of writers,” he said, and I interpreted it as him being boisterous.

“Yeah, that’s great news for me.”

“No, no– ugh, I mean, I might be able to connect you to someone, and like, maybe you could assist or something.” He tried to explain.

“Or something.” I hummed.

“Yeah, if you’re interested, I’ll submit your resume to some of my colleagues. I’m sure they won’t mind taking a look.”

“Why are you doing this?” I was surprised by his sudden interest in helping me.

“Don’t want you to keep crying.”

“That’s… sweet.” He held up a wary hand.

“Because it’s loud, and I am trying to get some rest.”

“Oh, wow.”

“Will you please keep it down?”

“Yep. Sureee. No problem.” I slumped my shoulders again.

Without another word, he had left my apartment, leaving me with the most confusing rollercoaster of emotions waiting to come crashing in. I had almost forgotten I was suppressing them. I just took myself to my bed to cry softly, making sure to not disturb him. Life is messy. What is wrong with me? Why do I have to rely on my stupid hot actor neighbor to get a job? And… why am I crying?

I hope he can’t hear me. Wouldn’t want that to interrupt his wonderful sex life.

Pt 2. Alternative: Tom’s POV

I had been trying to find an excuse to talk to the new girl for so long, it was really wearing on me. I felt like every time I intentionally ran into her, she was in a rush to leave, even though she was always in her apartment. She literally only left for work, and that was less than half the day; so why did she avoid me?

I knew Emily hadn’t exactly made the best impression on her, but she was just intimidated by the new, pretty face in town. I had been really impressed by how she was able to keep up banter with me without shaking. It was so refreshing.

And now she wouldn’t talk to me. 

I hadn’t even gotten her number– I mean, we did live next to each other– but I never got the chance to invite her over to dinner with Sam. I didn’t even know if she’d be interested.

So, when I heard her cry out like she was in pain at 10pm, I had to check it out. I was dying to at least have a conversation with her.

When I walked in, she just looked so defeated. I felt really bad. I had to fix it, right?

She just… made it so hard to be nice. I knew it was all fun and games, but this was dangerous. What happens when I cross a line? We weren’t close enough for me to know where that line is.

So there I was, stepping in and out. And that’s when I hear that she is trying to be a writer. I don’t tell her, because I don’t want to get her hopes up, but there’s a writer’s position open on the next project I’m working on, and it’s a big one. It would look great on her resume.

So I mention it, act like I’m being a decent person, and leave before I get ahead of myself and start spewing nonsense about wanting to be her best friend in the whole wide world. Finally in my apartment, I danced around the room erratically, so crazy happy that I had a conversation with her, despite it being… neutral, to say the least.

When I finally settle down into bed, resting comfortably, I hear quiet sobs coming from the other side of the wall. It takes me a second to remember that Emily isn’t here; her crying was a regular occurence. It’s Y/N who’s crying. I take a second to listen, hearing that she doesn’t stop, she just keeps sobbing quietly. I hear a soft thud, and muffled sniffle.

“Fuck.” She says softly. Then she starts crying again.

Wow. Did I… make her cry? 

But– I tried my best to be nice, and I practically opened up her future to success in one conversation! Way to be grateful.

I should be nicer. It was probably something I said. Or something Emily said. She just doesn’t know how to control herself sometimes. I’d leave her– but the sex is magical.

I was bordering on wanting to have her move in and wanting to break up with her entirely, and it stabbed at my nerves every time I went to bed with her. I felt guilty. I can’t keep my life so unstable with a woman I can’t see myself with in the future. But… at the same time, she’s… my cure to loneliness.

What to do, what to do.

And how to sleep, since Y/N won’t stop crying? Not that it’s that loud, but I can’t sleep knowing I’ve caused her that much pain.

Finally, the crying subsides, and I hear light snores. So she’s sleeping. That’s good.

Pt 3. BREAKFAST

I climbed out of bed the next morning feeling weak, like I had a hangover. My mouth was dry and my face was red, but there was no alcohol involved. In fact, I remembered everything vividly.

I had to push it down. If Tom had done what he’d promised, there would be an offer on the table… or, a rejection. So I just had to wait. I decided I would treat myself after finding a spare 20 in my coat pocket, heading to town to grab a bite of breakfast to eat. As I walked into the Rising Sun Eatery, however, it seemed that… someone else… had the same idea as I did.

Tom and Emily were sitting at a table at the far back of the restaurant, Tom hidden behind a large pair of sunglasses and a hood. It didn’t matter, though. I recognized Emily clear as day with her platinum blond locks that reached her backside, and her flashy pink talons, which I liked to imagine were a reflection of her true personality. It looked like Sam was also there, currently engrossed in his phone.

Immediately, I shrunk down, asking for a table outside. Emily wouldn’t see me anyways, she was facing the other way. I was just on my way to be seated when, unexpectedly, someone yelled my name. I swiveled around, scanning the room for anyone else who could’ve said it. Some people were looking around for the cause of the commotion, but no possible perpetrators, except for– well, Tom, who was waving his hand over for me to join them.

I felt like I was obliged to join after that, so I apologized to the hostess and awkwardly made my way over to their table. “Hi… guys.”

“Y/N! This is my brother, Sam– he’s in town for the next two months or so while I get a start on this new project– he’s my, uh, personal chef and brother!”

“Hi Sam, pleasure to meet you,” I stuck out my hand, and he thankfully shook it, smiling at me kindly. He seemed a little meeker than Tom, perhaps– a spray of freckles and a shyer smile.

“Pleasure is all mine,” He replied, beckoning for me to take the seat across from him, which, naturally, was next to Emily. She smiled, poison dripping from those glossed lips.

“Y/N, right?”

“Emily, dear, don’t be silly. You’ve met Y/N, several times I believe.”

“Oh, yes, how could I forget? The pretty one next door.”

“Thanks Emily. I don’t mean to intrude on you guy’s brunch, so I’ll just head out if that’s alright.”

Tom bit his lip uncomfortably. It was hard for me to figure out whether he did that because he wanted me gone or because he wanted me to stay. I mean, he did call me over, so it would be weird if he wanted me gone– but perhaps he had a lapse in judgment and had only now remembered that his girlfriend hated me with a burning passion.

Sam, oblivious to this whole affair, put away his phone. “Nonsense, Y/N, I would love to get to know you! We’ve been neighbors for so long and I haven’t even had you over for dinner!”

“Oh, that’s alright. I’ve got a busy schedule, anyways.” You saw Tom quirk his eyebrow at you and you sent him a challenging look right back. What gave him the right to judge you for not leaving the apartment?

“Still, I’d love to have you. How’s Friday night sound?”

“Uh…”

“But Sammy, I won’t be avail Friday night!” squealed Emily. I lifted my head.

“Friday? Friday sounds great.”

“I’ll be there too,” Tom added. I almost immediately regretted my choice, looking away from Tom’s penetrating gaze.

Emily was still pouting, but I liked seeing her so upset. Almost made up for how mean she was.

The waiter dropped by with their dishes, noticing me at the table. “Oh, pardon miss, I didn’t realize you were seated here as well! Do you have an order?”

“Um, no. I’m alright.”

“What? Y/N, it’s lovely here. Order something.” Tom insisted.

“I don’t want to spend your money on my food. That wouldn’t be right.”

“I do it all the time for Ems here; it’s not a big deal.” I tried to ignore his comment about Emily always letting him take the check and just shook my head.

“No, that’s okay.”

“Okay then. Everything alright with everyone else?”

“Delightful, absolutely delightful.” Tom hummed as he took another bite of his pancakes.

Sam looked at me with sad eyes. “If you won’t spend Tom’s money, will you at least have some of my omelette? I promise I don’t mind.”

Knowing he wouldn’t give up, I surrendered. “Sure, I’ll have a couple bites.” Emily huffed, rolling her yes, and I tried to ignore it. Sam forked over almost half his dish before I had to stop him, “Whoa, not the whole thing! You still have to eat.”

“You’re too kind, but ever since I got into culinary school, all I’ve been doing is eating. I’ll be fine.”

I took a tentative bite of the omelet, then a bigger one. Wow. “Um, this is really good.”

“Heavenly, right?”

“Yeah… no kidding–”

“Just between you and me, my omelet is better. But this will serve.”

“I guess I’ll just have to try yours,” I shrugged, and Sam smiled.

“Finally! You’re in a good mood!”

“I was before!” I protested.

“You were not!” Sam chuckled, wiping egg off his lip. “I really like you, Y/N. You seem very kind.”

“And you seem very wise.” I joked back, finally laughing. You saw out of the corner of your eye that Tom was leaning back in his chair, furiously typing something. You ignored it, focusing on conversing with Sam, who was quite a racket.

“Hmph,” Emily whined softly. Nobody paid her any mind, so she did it again, but louder. When everyone ignored her again, she spoke up. “Tommykins, who’re you talking to?”

“It’s work stuff,” He said, brushing her off, still totally engrossed in whatever he was typing.

“Tommy, what kind?”

“What?”

“What kind of ‘work stuff’? Why are you so worked up, babes?” She said in a cutesy high voice, making me wanna stick a hand down her throat.

“It’s nothing. You’re never interested in whatever I’m working on, you won’t be interested in it now.”

“Tommykinsss,” Emily dragged out, finally making a grab at Tom’s phone. He snatched it back, and she made another grab, this time looking serious. “Tom. What the fuck? What are you working on you little asshole? Huh? You can’t keep secrets from me, I’m your one and only. Hand over the phone.” Tom looked like he was in pain, but he submitted to her, handing it over.

I gave him a concerned look, but quickly changed it to disgusted. I can’t believe he just lets her walk all over him like that.

“What. The fuck. Is this?” Emily cocked her head, holding out his phone. I couldn’t read it from my spot but it looked like an email.

“Ems, it’s an email dear. Just a little referral. Networking.”

“Yeah? Just a little ‘referral’. Why does it say ‘Cherry’?

“It’s my next project, love.”

“Yeah, duh. But why does it say Cherry and her name?” Emily hissed. Tom swallowed, red rising in his cheeks. He was so hard to read. Was he angry, embarrassed? She was obviously causing a scene, and making me very uncomfortable.

Sam raised his hands up defensively. “Who’s name?”

“It says here. ‘Addressed: Joe and Anthony Russo and the writing team. During the current production stage of Cherry, I would like to make a referral to a new friend of mine who is new to the scene in LA. Below is listed her resume, credentials, and information. Please consider having her added to the team, as I feel she could be an interesting added perspective.’ And below that, name of referral.”

“Yeah?” Sam pushed.

“Y/N L/N.”

“What?” I said, eyes wide.

“Yes, you little boyfriend-stealing bitch, he referred you to his new team. Which he’ll be working with for the next year. So, he wants to spend time with you for a year, huh?”

“No– I don’t think that was it, I just am really struggling– and he, um, probably just felt bad.”

“Yeah,” Sam piped up, “as a member of the writing team, Y/N isn’t going to be working that closely with Tom at all. It probably isn’t as it seems.”

“Tom?” Emily asked accusingly. He looked defeated, his eyes holding her with regret.

“I referred her to them because I believe she would be a good fit.”

“How do you even know that?” Emily pestered. How does he know that?

“I read one of her scripts. She’s a talent.” Tom explained, but sadness laced his voice. He read my script? Why?

“I’m not putting up with your womanizing shit, Tom. It’s me or her.”

“What? Emily, that’s so unreasonable.”

“You heard me. Either you retract your statements of recommendation and bar her from working on this project with you, or I leave you.”

“But… this is her livelihood. It’s her job. I can’t just take that away because you’re jealous.”

“I’m not jealous! I’m being perfectly reasonable about my boyfriend prioritizing me over some– some crazy bitch!” Emily exploded, getting up from the table. “You have 24 hours to decide.” She stormed out of the restaurant, drawing eyes to the table.

“What the fuck?!” Tom said, to nobody in particular. I held my head in my hands, ready to cry.

Sam looked so taken aback; he just patted my arm in sympathy and watched her leave. “Tom, there are too many people watching. We should leave before the paparazzi arrive.” Tom was shaking his head in bewilderment.

“Okay. Y/N, need a ride?”

“No thanks.” I let them leave and then started my lonely walk home.

I wished this had never happened. Why did I have to leave my cozy suburban finance job for the big city? Why did my dreams have to revolve on everyone around me being sane?

Pt 4. CHOICES

This chapter is written from Tom’s perspective. In the future, chapters will start being shorter and switching between the two a lot. I hope this is not too confusing.

When we got back to the apartment, I was still in shock. Sam had been rattling off on me the whole ride down about how I was a bloody idiot for trying to make things with Emily work.

“Tom, seriously. What was that? She’s mental, talking to you that way– giving you an ultimatum. You know what the right choice is.” Sam declared.

“Do I? We were so serious about moving in together. We had a future.” I said, hope still lingering somewhere in the distance.

“Key word: had. And besides, things change. Or, in her case, they don’t. Don’t lie, she’s been like this forever. You can’t have a girlfriend who’s a jealous mess over any girl that you come across! You're adored by millions, it’s in the boyfriend application.”

“Sam, don’t talk about her like we aren’t together.” He was being so… frustratingly off it. He’s my brother, he shouldn’t take a side. He should support whichever side I take.

“As far as I’m concerned, you aren’t. Not like this. Don’t be a prick. Y/N is bloody brilliant. She’s so sweet and… genuine. Nothing like Emily. If anything, you should be dating her.” That did it.

“Sam, will you fucking SHUT UP about dating– for another 24 hours, I am with Emily. And, who knows. Maybe after that. Just– fuck– don’t mention Y/N. I feel guilty enough.”

Sam groaned. “You never learn.”

“Pipe down, too, okay? She can hear us.” I added. Sam rolled his eyes, leaving the room with his middle finger right up. 

“Fuck right off, mate. If you don’t stand up to Emily, I’m gonna release your phone number to the masses. Bite that one off.”

I sighed loudly, crashing onto the bed. Why, why, why.

Pt 5. OPPORTUNITIES

I sat alone in my living room, wondering why on earth life had me collide like this. I was just hitting wall after wall. A week since Emily had started that huge scene, a week since I’d spoken to Tom. Not a text. Not even in the hallway. It was so quiet, I almost thought he’d moved out. Until I heard the noises. Those god-awful sex noises.

So they were back together. Right on– and I had no job. Again. I couldn’t believe Tom, betraying me to… stay in that nightmare situation. God has no mercy on me– and I am going to go homeless by the end of next month. Maybe mom would let me move in with her again.

I rubbed my hands across my face, holding back a loud cry that I wanted to let out. I knew Tom was home. He made a racket coming in. It was so late at night… why? Why was he disturbing the peace so late at night?

I opened my phone again, surprised to see there were text messages. And they weren’t from my mom. 

Unknown Number

Hi, this is sam. ~9:46am

Please get back to me ~12:04pm

Can we meet up for dinner? ~3:57pm

Okay I don’t know if you aren’t seeing these or if you’re ignoring them but we need to talk. ~8:12pm

Hi– I didn’t see them. We can call, or you can come over. ~12:02am

I’ll come over. ~ now

You opened the door to Sam’s light knock and saw him looking kind of ghastly.

“Hey Sam, what’s up? What’s… is something wrong?”

“Uh, Tom doesn’t know I’m here. So if we could… is there a place where he can’t hear us?” Sam asked, looking around anxiously.

“Um, not really. But we can be quiet. What’s wrong?”

“I’ve been really sick these last couple days, and usually Tom helps me get better when mom’s not around; like with soups and stuff, but I don’t know what’s going on with him. He hasn’t been around at all. I collapsed next to the sink when I went to… the restroom,” he flushed.

“It’s okay, we all do that.”

“And I, um, I was crying for him to come… and he never did. He showed up so late, that I had already made it back to my bed, and when he saw that I had really badly cleaned up my, uh, vomit, he just got really angry at me and hasn’t spoken to me since. He was so drunk, and… and, I know I’m such a big baby for needing him to take care of me, but I’m really sick and I just… hic! … need my brother.” I felt a surge of panic and sympathy towards Sam, so despite his kind-of stained clothing, I pulled him into a tight hug and held him there. He let out a deep breath.

“I’m sorry, buddy. He has no right to treat you that way– everyone gets a little helpless when sick. You can stay over here until you’re better, I don’t trust you alone over there, what with Tom acting the way he is.”

“I’m sorry ms. Y/N. I’m… hic! … so sorry,”

“Don’t be. You’re fine, bud. Just relax and I’ll get you settled on my bed. I’ll take the couch.”

“You don’t have to! It’s okay…”

“In the words of someone very wise, ‘nonsense, you must stay!’ Trust me buddy, you’ll be better in no time with doctor Y/N on the case.”

He smiled weakly and allowed me to lead him to the bed, instantly snuggling up under the covers. “I can’t sleep,” He muttered softly, and I sat up next to him.

“That’s okay. I’ll stay until you do.”

“Don’t you want to ask me about Tom?”

“And why would I want to do that?” That was exactly what you wanted to do, but you couldn’t, because your priority was keeping Sam safe.

“Because he’s being weird and you barely know why.”

“Okay, you got me. I do want to know. What happened?”

“He sent in the offer anyway. Broke it off with Emily. She took everything the first day, told him it didn’t matter; she never liked him, she was cheating, and left. She literally hasn’t said anything since. He was so bummed, naturally, because that was super hurtful. But he knew he had to do it.”

“So he’s gone out drinking to what? Pick up chicks? Rebound?”

“That, and he never heard back from them about your referral. They’re not working closely yet, so it’s purely digital contact, and he’s done all he can to get you the job. And radio silence from them.”

“Oh.” I didn’t know how to react. He… he put himself forward for me when I thought he’d abandoned me… and he’d still lost everything. He didn’t even have the satisfaction of knowing he did a good thing; knowing that I had a job now. This was because of me and my shitty writing. I made him hurt, with my shitty writing and my shitty experience and my shitty communication with his crazy ex. He probably hated me so much for tearing his life apart. Tearing him away from a girl he could've loved for forever.

I was the mistake.

“Y/N, why are you crying?”

“‘M not. You’re seeing things.”

“Y/N, it’s not your fault.”

“Yeah, it is. It’s my fault, and now Tom hates me. And he's drunk. And he yelled at you!”

“I yelled at him first.”

“For what?”

“When she gave him that ultimatum, I told him to shove it up his arse and just cut her off. I said… a lot of things, actually. And I got really mad at him. Called him some names.

“Oh, Sam…”

“I had only met you but I knew you were some kind of national treasure. I wasn’t going to let my idiot brother choose his lunatic girlfriend over you getting a job of a lifetime.”

“But I didn’t get the job.”

“They haven’t rejected you yet, Y/N.”

“But haven’t they? It seems like a sign. I should move back to the suburbs, start a family with some unassuming upper-middle class gentleman, and forever work in finance or as a housewife.”

“Since Tom said they were good, I went and read the scripts you wrote. They really are good, you have talent. You’re meant to be a writer, Y/N, and no one can take that away. This is just a speed bump. You have great things ahead.”

“Thank you… Sam, for the speech. You’re probably right. I can get through this. But, can Tom?” I waited for Sam to say something ridiculously optimistic, but then I saw he had fallen asleep, a small bit of drool leaving his mouth. I tucked him in tightly, then hopped off the bed to rest on the couch.

We’d talk tomorrow.

Pt 6. SICKENING

This chapter is written from Tom’s POV.

When I woke up, my mind still felt hazy with the memory of the night before. I felt the edges of my thoughts tickling my head, making me dizzy.

God, I hadn’t had a hangover this bad since Haz’s 20th birthday.

I felt instantly as if I was going to throw up, so I stopped trying to lift myself up and just breathed. 

I knew I had brought a girl home last night… Shay? Ray? I didn’t remember at all. She wasn’t there, but I had to tread lightly in case she was in the main room. Sam would probably be bothered if there was a strange woman while he was trying to prepare breakfast, if he was even doing that since I went off on him.

I hadn’t really spoken to him lately, but I’ve been busy– not that there are any pressing projects or filming, but I’ve had meetings here and there. He was sick, but he just kept leaving stuff everywhere! I mean, I’m a busy man. I don’t have time to take care of his sorry ass when he gets a little fever.

I finally cleared the spots in my eyes enough to lift myself out of bed, taking a stroll to the main room. Oh, she was gone. Thank god. I hated having to put up with the girls who didn’t understand this was a one time thing.

Just to clarify, I’m not usually a… one-night kind of person. But I’ve been bloody miserable since Emily left, and a man has needs. LA is the kind of place where I can get my needs fulfilled.

I checked my phone for messages. I still  felt a twang of sadness when I saw no notifications from Emily, but… it had to happen.

Or maybe it didn’t. Clearly, the Russo’s didn’t care much for Y/N’s writing, despite me thinking it was amazing. And Y/N hadn’t spoken to me either, so I had just lost twice. Three times? I was too bogged to count.

Seeing as Sam wasn’t up yet to cook, I might as well take him to breakfast on the town again. He’s been wanting to try this place near the pier that has weird crepe flavors. Maybe I’d humor him.

I knocked on his door loudly, “Sam? In the mood for a bit of a walk?”

No answer. Hmm. Well, it was my apartment. I opened the door, which, to my surprise, was unlocked, and peered through. He wasn’t… there.

That’s weird. He usually texts me if he’s going out someplace.

I open up my phone again to see if I missed anything. Huh. Nothing since… yesterday? Asking me to buy him Nyquil. So he was still sick? He really shouldn’t be out and about, then.

Sam, where r u? ~ 9:17am

Can u respond pls, trying to make brunch reservations. ~ 9:22am

Are u coming? ~ 9:23am

Sam. ~ 9:46am

Hello? Are u dead? ~ 10:12am

I was honestly shocked. What the hell had gotten into him? Immediately, I dialed up mum, wondering if she knew. “Mum, do you know what’s gone on with Sam?”

“Sammy? He is alright, isn’t he?”

“Well, I can’t find him and he isn’t responding to my texts, so ‘alright’ doesn’t cover it about now.” I said, now slightly panicked.

“Hmm. I did get a call from him the other day. He seemed sad. Are you treating him well, sweetheart?”

“I am housing and feeding him, no?” I sighed. “Okay, just, tell me what he told you on the call.”

“Well, he expressed the feeling that he wanted to return to England. I don’t think he was having a very good time. He also seemed sick, so I told him that if he had to come home, at least get better first.”

“He wanted to go home?”

“That’s what he said,” my mom seemed perplexed at how I was acting. “Why, is it the first you’ve heard of it?”

“Actually, yes. It is. If you don’t mind, mum, I gotta go. Don’t put out a missing persons report for another 24 hours, alright?” “‘Course, sweetie. Well, if you do find him, tell him to call me. Alright. Bye, love.”

I hung up, sweat beading on my forehead. Holy fuck. Sam ran away. God, what a childish move. 

And before you go thinking I’m a bad person– of course I was worried! But sometimes you have to put logic first, and in this case, my logic says: Sam’s gone and lost his marbles.

I mean, where would he be? He’s not exactly stacked with cash, and LA hotels are not cheap. There’s no way Emily would allow him in her apartment; not that he’d want that. Hmm. He was sick, so maybe he took a visit to the doctors? There is a 24 hour clinic close by that he could’ve walked to.

I didn’t really think he was so sick that a clinic would be necessary, but knowing it was a possibility sunk into me coldly.

So I rushed to the hospital and asked them to look for records of Sam visiting.

“Sir, it does look like we have Sam Holland in our records from today, around 8 am. He’s since left, though.”

“Can you tell me what happened?”

“I’m afraid we are not allowed to disclose any personal details of any of our patients.”

“I’m his brother, for fucks sake!” I had lost it at this lady. Who did she think she was? “Fine. Just tell me: did he come in alone?”

She looked taken aback at how I had just blown up on her, but she quickly composed herself and pursed her lips. “I really shouldn’t be telling you anything.”

“Please, please– just tell me who he was with, if– just tell me!” I was on the verge of tears. Angry and sad and guilty ones. My face stung with emotion.

“I believe it was a girl. Same age.” That was an awful description if I’ve ever seen one.

“Anything else? Hair color, eye color?”

“I don’t recall. In any case, that would be too much information to give someone,” she paused, scrutinizing me. “Even you, Mr. Holland.”

‘Ugh. Whatever,” I said, leaving the hospital. I refused to believe that Sam was actually hurt, but where on earth could he be? What girls did he know? I was fairly certain he didn’t have a girlfriend, and as far as I knew, he wasn’t too close to anyone from his work. Who would know where he is?

In a last ditch attempt, I doubled back from my apartment door. I locked eyes on the one next to it. I remembered Y/N and Sam had gotten along quite well at that disastrous brunch… and he had later defended her, even against me.

He probably wouldn’t be with Y/N, but it was worth it to ask.

Was it?

Ugh, I couldn’t bring myself to speak to her. I had let her down, let myself down, and worst of all, she probably hates me. 

But I had to, for Sam.

I knocked twice, then stepped back, holding my breath expectantly.

I heard a weird shuffle going on in the apartment, a small yelp, and the sound of a large object falling.

She opened the door, looking fresh out of a magazine. How did she manage to look good on mornings like these?

Then again, she hadn’t gone through the hell I’d been through.

“Sorry, I fell off my chair,” She explained, finally looking me in the eye. I could see her eyebrow tweak downwards, and I already knew I had upset her.

“My apologies– I didn’t mean to, uh, startle you.”

“Um. Okay,” she started, her line of sight trailing her right. I swallowed, and she snapped back to focus. “Sorry, is there a reason you’re here?”

“My brother, Sam. I can’t find him and he’s not answering his texts.”

“Ah,” She nodded slowly.

“Do you know where he is?”

“Can’t say I do.”

“I really, really need to find him. Please, do you have any idea where he might be?”

She looked deep in thought, her hands fumbling around together. “I might not, but I think that if he went to these lengths to avoid you– sorry, to escape you– I think he probably just wants to be left alone.” Her face was right below mine, but she was not small. She was almost frightening. 

“And how would you know anything about what HE wants?” I yelled, finally letting the walls crash down.

“I’m just saying– I don’t think it’s a smart idea for you to pursue this; I’m sure he’s safe.”

“You don’t know that. I’m his brother, I need to take care of him and I said I would and I was doing just fine and I’ve fucked up and he’s gone.” I cried, holding the collar of her shirt in my hands. She was shrinking. Oh no. She was scared of me.

“Please, Tom– let– Tom, let go I can’t–” I instantly released her, tears in my eyes.

“I’m sorry,”

“Tom, what the hell? Are you drunk?”

“No, I’m– I’m not, I promise. I’m so sorry. Please just help me find him. Please help me find my brother.”

“I don’t think that it’s the smartest idea, Tom–”

“Please! What– what if he got kidnapped, or hurt, or– I mean, I don’t know! He was in the hospital, they told me! And I don’t– what if something’s really wrong?”

“He’s fine, Tom. He’s fine.”

“How would you know–” I was cut off by the sound of another person in the apartment. “Do you have someone over?” Something in my brain starts throbbing, rage filling my senses.

Y/N winces. “Not really.”

“Not really? What does that even mean?!” I feel helpless. In so many ways.

“I can’t– Tom, no. I can’t.” She moved to go back inside the apartment, but I held her arm tightly. “Tom, ow! What the hell? Stop–” Apparently, too tightly. Then the door opens all the way. It’s Sam.

“Tom, what the hell are you doing to her?” I release her arm and panic rises in my chest.

“What– what is going on?” I ask demandingly. Sam looks livid. Is he mad at me? And why is he not wearing a shirt? What the hell is going on between them?

“You shouldn’t be here.” Sam says coldly. I notice he still looks ill; his nose is reddish and his skin is really pale. Y/N is holding her arm and wiping away a tear. What have I done?

“Are… are you guys together?” I say, my heart beating really fast. They did hit it off at brunch. Maybe a little too much.

But then, Sam shakes his head. “No, I wouldn’t do that to you.” He’s scowling. At me. “I came over because I have no friends in this shithole, and when I was relying on you to take care of me while I was sick, you left for the bars.” Sam was still so angry.

“Yeah, and unlike you, I cared about your brother enough to take him to the doctor to get checked out. He has a minor case of the flu, paired with pneumonia. Didn’t know that, did you?” Oh god, and Y/N too.

“I really didn’t mean to. I’m just very overwhelmed right now.”

“So overwhelmed, yet you can still bring home girls? It’s not like you, Tom. I’m staying here until you fix whatever is going on.” Sam spat, placing a solid hand on Y/N’s shoulder.

They went back inside, and I heard the click of the lock almost immediately. How did this happen?

Pt 7. NEWBIE

“Hi Sammy,” I called as I got home from work. Since the devastatingly slow pace of my writing career, I had taken up being a contracted marketing advisor to some small companies. It paid, but not as well as I would’ve liked. Still, Sam was working on his degree and had two part-time jobs on the side, so he was finally helping pay rent, and the load taken off of my back was huge.

In the month and a half since he stopped living with Tom, he had permanently moved in and I had rearranged the already cramped living room to fit a futon/bed for him. He bought a cute little divider so he had his privacy in the early mornings, but besides that, we pretty much shared the same space.

Tom hadn’t texted me at all. I didn’t know what had gotten into him, but I knew he needed to sort it out on his own. Besides, I knew deeply that he was probably hurt from how I had caused his breakup, and nothing would change that. I was a failure, and I had dragged Tom down with me.

“Hi, Y/N. I prepared dinner for you. It’s sitting on the counter, but I need to go to the bathroom real quick.”

“Thank you so, so much. Man, I’m starved. Work was a nightmare today.”

“You can tell me all about it,” he bounced up and down on his heels, “once I pee! Eek!” I laughed and settled down at the table, where I found he had prepared the exact dish I said I had been craving! He really seared the Korean beef to a perfection for an amateur, and the sauce was the perfect mix of tangy and sweet.

“Do you like it?” He said as he left the bathroom, beaming at me.

“Yes! It’s perfect. You should make it more often.”

“I think I will– believe it or not, it only took me like 10 minutes to cook, not counting how long the sauce had to sit.”

“Awesome. Alright, so how was your day?”

“It was lovely! So, you won’t believe it, but I think…” I continued to gobble up the dish as Sam rattled on and on about his day, which sounded super chill in comparison to mine. He was one of those people that really liked the praise of other people, and everytime I smiled at one of his jokes, or mentioned something that he had said to me in passing, he would just light up. I was always taking mental notes to keep him on his toes. And happy, most of all.

Just as I was going to fish out my phone to take a picture of the sun setting behind the Commerce Tech building, loud rock music started blaring. I looked around the apartment for my speaker, wondering if I had accidentally turned it on, but Sam had it already and it was off.

“Do you think it’s Tom?” I asked him.

“WHAT?” Oh, he couldn’t hear me.

“I SAID, DO YOU THINK TOM IS PLAYING THE MUSIC?”

“NO, I DON’T THINK SO– IT’S COMING FROM THE OTHER WALL.”

“ACROSS THE HALL?”

“NO, OTHER WALL!” He pointed towards the wall that faced him and I nodded my head.

“I’M GOING TO GO OVER AND ASK THEM TO QUIET DOWN.”

“OKAY!” My head was ringing with the loud percussive noises. Jesus, did these people know they lived in an apartment?

I had just made it to the door that was sourcing me with enough decibels to break a wine glass, when I stopped in my tracks. Damnit.

“Hey, Y/N,” he said tersely, his chest heaving with a breath.

“Hi. I was, um, just going to–”

“File a noise complaint with the new neighbors? Yeah, me too.”

“They’re new?”

“Yep. Big douchey bachelor dude. Came knocking on my door the first night he arrived asking if I had a spare beer.”

“You did, didn’t you?” I knew he was still getting drunk on occasion– I probably shouldn’t have mentioned it.

“Well, yeah, but you don’t just go on asking a man for his beer.”

“Are you going to knock or what?”

“Um, yeah. I’ll knock,” Tom stood back as he waited for their response.

“So, not a good impression of him?”

“No, not anything like yours,” Tom said offhandedly, but I caught it. 

In the past month or so, I’d had lots of time to mull over some things– like how the last time I spoke to Tom, Sam had said that we weren’t a thing, and then said ‘I wouldn’t do that to you’. I knew, of course, that this implies Tom had a thing for me, or something similar. But if that was the case… Why did he treat me so poorly? And why had he made so little effort to make it better?

“I seem to remember our first meeting was a little less orthodox than most. And that it quickly turned… unenjoyable.”

“If we pretend Emily was never there, it was pretty decent.”

“I can’t pretend she doesn’t exist.”

“Why not? I do.” I went silent. He wasn’t happy, I could tell. It pained him, maybe, to see me.

“How has he still not answered the door?” I asked, exasperated.

“Well, as you well know, I’m not a stranger to just opening it anyways.”

“Oh, I do recall that quite vividly. You are… strange.” 

“Whatever.” That seemed to have struck a chord with him, so I kept it in my mental no-no’s box. He went to open the door, revealing the inside of the new tenants apartment to be… horrendous.

There were about 50 people in this tiny-ass studio, all laughing and throwing shots, and none of them seemed to care at all that they were causing quite the cacophony.

“Yo, is that Tom Holland?” One of the drunk party goers shouted, and Tom immediately ducked his face down.

“Nah bro, you’re so high right now! Tom Holland doesn’t go to parties with us.. Heh,” his equally-drunk friend responded, clapping his hands really loudly. Tom rolled his eyes.

“What, are you what they say you are? Do you not enjoy parties?”

“Not these kinds of parties, Y/N. Come on, let’s get the idiot who owns this place to keep it down.” Tom grabbed me by the wrist, which sent me back to the last time he had done that. I shook my head and tried to wash out the discomfort, and even though I didn’t see him look, he still loosened his grip as he led me through the crowd.

“Alright, party people! Is this the best house warming party or what, Double G style?” A beer-bellied man with a fizzing bottle of beer in one hand and a girl on the other yelled out to the crowd. 

“Wow, Mr. G, this place is popping– the deposit must have been cray!” One of his scummy friends said, right before slapping his girl on the thigh.

“Wow. This is revolting.” Tom said, shaking his head.

“Yeah. I’m beginning to see why you don’t like these kinds of parties. I, myself, don’t enjoy being sexually assaulted– and I doubt she does.”

“These people aren’t exactly classy. They don’t care about how she should be treated. Let’s just get out of here.”

“So, Mr. Good Guy, you treat women with the utmost respect?”

“That’s how I was raised, darling.” Darling. Tom never stopped, did he? We had finally made it to Double G, and he was currently eyeing me up and down like a toy.

I snapped my fingers in his face. “Hey, eyes up here. I’m your new neighbor, and I’d like to request you keep it down.  We have thin walls, you know.” Tom raised his eyebrow.

“That’s my line,” He whispered in my ear.

Ignoring you, he faced Tom. “So what, she your broad?”

“Sorry, broad?” I asked incredulously. What was this, the 1950’s?

“She’s a woman, an independent one, and her being ‘mine’ is frankly revolting.”

“Okay, I see you’re into this ‘politically correct’ stuff, yeah? I mean, is she your girl? Because if she is, tell her she should really be dressin’ it up. She’s like a 2 dressed like this, but showing a little more skin? I’d tap that.” Tom made a face.

“It doesn’t matter. Turn the volume down, or we get an official sound violation set up.”

“Bro, what’s your damage? Just quit tryna stop the party and wear headphones or something!”

“It’s shaking the walls, mate. Just turn it down.”

“You’re really getting on my nerves, neighbor. I’ll turn it down, on one condition.”

“What?”

“You let me feel up that girl of yours.”

“What? Hell no.” Tom said before I could step in.

“Then no deal, homie.”

“Turn it down, or you’re getting in legal trouble.”

“Whatever, dude! Get out of here!” One of ‘double G’s’ friends said, splashing their beer at Tom. Tom stepped back reflexively, and it hit another girl right in the chest. She started hollering, immediately rushing forward at the dude, slapping him. She threw something, which in turn caused someone else to throw something, until pretty much everyone was fighting each other.

“Jesus, Y/N, let’s get out of here.”

“I’ve never agreed with you more,” I replied as we squeezed by to leave. As we stepped into the hallway, Tom held up his hand to stop me from saying anything.

“I don’t wanna waste any more of your time. I’m going to leave– just don’t bring this up with Sam, okay?”

“I was just going to thank you for standing up for me back there,” I said sheepishly, watching his eyes droop.

“Look, it’s nothing. And sorry for letting them believe I was your boyfriend or… whatever.”

“Again, it’s fine. I’m thanking you.”

“You shouldn’t,” he sighed, turning his head away so I couldn’t look him in the eyes. His lips tightened. “I’ll be on my way.” I didn’t know what to do, so I let him leave. The music had shut off completely, which made me think someone had broken the speaker. Thank god.

With that, I headed into the apartment to try and sleep.

Key word: try.

“Hey, Y/N, wait–” Sam said before I entered my room. 

“Yeah, Sam?”

“I um… didn’t mean to overhear your conversation with Tom outside but–”

“You heard that? Oh, man. Um–”

“No, I’m not gonna ask you about it– I mean, I am, but you don’t have to answer it if you don’t want to.”

“Okay, go ahead.”

“Do you… have feelings for Tom?”

“Well, no. I mean, I don’t think so.” I bit my lip. I really didn’t think I had feelings for Tom– I mean, I spent a lot of time thinking about him, but it was mainly to worry about him not liking me. Sam met my eyes and narrowed his.

“Okay. Yeah,” Sam looked down. “Are you totally… sure?”

“Maybe? Oh god, please don’t make me have a crisis right now.”

“I’m sorry– I shouldn’t have asked, it was out of place.”

“No, it’s fine. There’s no harm in that question. I just don’t dwell too much on it. I haven’t had a relationship in forever, and now that I’m kind of settled– it might be a good idea.” I smiled at him. “So, if anything, I thank you for reminding me.” Sam let out a chuckle.

“You don’t let anything get to you, huh? How do you do that?”

“I let things get to me, I promise. I just… don’t show it as externally so others realize.” I let out a tight smile, but my eyes were sad.

Sam rubbed the back of his neck, not looking at me. “I hope you feel better, then.”

“I hope so too,” I laughed sadly, blinking a lonely tear away.

“Okay, goodnight, Y/N.” He hesitated, then looked me in the eyes and held out his arms to bring me into a hug. I accepted gratefully and threw my arms around him tightly, wiping my tears on his hoodie.

“You smell… so bad.”

“Thanks, Sammie.”

He let go of me, keeping his hands on my shoulders. “I love you and you deserve everything.” He said earnestly, staring right at me. I swallowed a sob and shook out a reply.

“Not everything. I don’t deserve you.” He shook his head and let out a chuckle, then turned to go to bed. I took a refreshing breath.

Sam was too kind. And to think… with the way we met, I never would’ve expected this to happen. For us to become friends, for him to live with me.

I thought happy thoughts as I lay myself to rest that night, thoughts that were louder and much nicer than Tom’s grunty snoring.

Pt 8. ACCEPTANCE

This chapter is written from Tom’s POV

I couldn’t rest that night. Not after… seeing her. I had dreamed of talking to her– making up for ruining everything. I had dreamed of finally getting her number. Finally being real, certified friends.

I was so desperate for Y/N to like me. It was pathetic, frankly. Maybe I just had the love to spare after the devil herself left me in the ice.

Too much love. Too little to love.

I sat at my dining table, eating another sad takeout meal whilst scrolling pointlessly through Instagram. I missed Sam’s awesome cooking, and I missed Sam.

A part of me wanted to burst through their door and declare that I cared about them and that I wanted to not be lonely– but I knew these things couldn’t just be… left behind.

So I’ve been cowering. Like that’s the answer.

There were 2 weeks until filming for Cherry started (finally. I’m so bored, sitting at home doing nothing.) I’ve yet to visit my mum, but I haven’t been missing her as much as I usually do. Maybe it’s just because I’m occupied missing other people at the moment.

And still no email from the Russo’s. It almost pained me more to not have heard anything. You would think I would at least get a rejection. Now all I had was false hope and hopeless sadness.

And it was all my fault.

It was already noon. If I went out in a couple hours, I could be brainlessly drunk with a girl on my arm by sunset.

Somehow, I felt I didn’t want to do that tonight. After my short encounter with Y/N the previous night, I felt fresh. Not fulfilled, exactly– but I remembered what was wrong. And how… sleeping around wouldn’t help a thing.

This whole situation was killing me slowly. I could hear Y/N’s laughter through the walls, and it was pure torture. My brother probably had something frying on the pan, and they were probably watching her favorite trashy TV. Why couldn’t that be me?

Why am I so stupid… How did I let her go like this?

It wasn’t that I was obsessed with Y/N. Or in love, or whatever. But… I was single. She was single, as far as I knew– and… well, she’s amazing. Maybe that’s too enthusiastic. It’s just– her. She’s so brilliant and pretty (no, beautiful. That’s the proper way to describe a woman.) and… God, she is powerful. The power she had over me… not that she forced anything over me, but I would willingly follow her to the ends of the Earth. She had an air about her that made me want to pledge myself to her side forevermore.

Oh god, maybe… I am obsessed. Maybe… in love? God, that’s a concept. But, I barely know her– kind of, I mean– I can hear her uneven breaths when she has a late night. I know she’s been having trouble sleeping. I know she cries too much to be truly happy. I know she curses a lot when others aren’t around, and that she watches Mean Girls religiously. I heard her explain to Sam that it was her favorite movie, and though her scripts are considerably more deep and riveting than… Mean Girls… she still gets emotional defending it. I know that she thinks Love Island is ridiculous (it is, but I love it. So shut up.) but will watch it if Sam begs enough. I know she hasn’t talked to her dad in ages but speaks to her mom nearly every other night. 

I know her. We don’t know each other. In her eyes, we are basically strangers. If I wasn’t such a fucking weirdo, I wouldn’t know all these things. These private, private things.

These things can’t be dwelled on, though. Especially when she ignores me and hopes I’ll stop existing.

She never said that. But it feels like she did– her cutting me off was so painful to me. And for what?

For what…

I had been resting on the couch, for a large amount of time, I think, contemplating things I could do to get my mind off my loneliness. Things that didn’t involve drinking the night away and forgetting 5 hours of my life.

Then, there was a rapid knock on my door. Really quick and sharp. And it was relentless.

“Hello? Hello? HELLO?” I shouted at the door, too unbothered to remove myself from my comfortable spot on the couch.

“It’s me, you idiot! Open up!” An assertive voice said. Y/N.

I nearly hopped out of the couch in anticipation, scrambling to get the door open.

“Sorry I don’t leave it open for unsuspecting strangers,” I coughed, as the door opened all the way.

She rolled her eyes at me, looking almost pissed, but seemed to remember something. Her whole face lit up, in the most perfect way…

Ugh. God. No more gross love-bird stuff. “What… is it? Why are you so– happy?”

“I got a job!” She exclaimed, holding a fist up to her chest in victory. I took a second, and smiled for her. I suppose I should be happy. And if getting a job meant she would speak to me again, I guess it wasn’t so bad that I failed her the first time around.

“That’s wonderful.”

“You aren’t as excited as I thought you’d be.”

I sighed, then fixed myself with a faulty ‘ecstatic’ face, taking a look at her. “Is this better?”

“Oh, come on– I mean, I’ll be working with you, and it’s– well, you got me the job!” I cocked my head.

“Wait– the job you got is my job, as in the job I– as in Cherry– like, that job?”

“Yes! That job!” I raised my eyebrows in surprise and fought back the urge to scream ‘THANK YOU!!!’ to the heavens.

“Oh my god! Um, wow! Congratulations!” Without thinking (at least, not very hard), I took a huge step forward and pulled her into a crushing hug. She was stiff for a second, not expecting it, but just as I was going to pull away, she hugged me back.

I felt like a great weight had been lifted off of me, and it was all thanks to this job offer going through. If only they’d accepted it earlier.

“So… you don’t hate me anymore?” I said softly, trying my best to ignore the way her hair tickled my nose as we still embraced.

“What?” She said, confused. Oh. Shit. I really should’ve kept my mouth shut. I pulled away and rubbed the back of my neck with my hand, searching her eyes for what she was thinking. “I didn’t… hate you.”

“But you… you didn’t speak to me after brunch. And we had that argument about Sam. And… I thought that I didn’t get you the job.”

“After brunch, I thought you had gotten back with Emily. I was so upset that you would choose that… nightmare over… well, me. I know that sounds so shallow but I– well, you didn’t. You put me first, in the end. I just didn’t know.” She lowered her eyes. “Sam explained everything to me, anyways. The only reason I was mad with you is because of how poorly you treated Sam. He was just looking for his brother to take care of him, and you went off drinking when he needed you most. And when you… came to speak to me… you were really different. Scary.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” She held her wrists carefully, seemingly remembering what happened. God, don’t think about it. Or you might change your mind. “I just… instantly bonded with Sam. And you… well, you never came to me. At all. It was devastating. I thought you blamed me for losing Emily and I thought you resented me for everything that had happened.”

“I don’t. I never did.”

“Never?”

“The only thing I resented was everything I had lost.” You. I can’t say that, though. “I didn’t blame you for it. It was my decision.”

“It wasn’t exactly free will.”

“Not quite. But you weren’t at fault and it would be unfair for me to say you were.” I explained to her, begging for her to look me in the eyes again. For me to be met by those kind eyes would cure everything. Right there.

“I can’t believe we haven’t spoken to each other. All we needed to do was speak.” She said in exasperation.

“It’s rather ironic.” I said, a small smile finally breaking from my lips. And it wasn’t acting this time.

“Not quite the word. I think you’re thinking of ‘theatrical’.”

“Perhaps.”

“I’ll think about making this into a story.”

“Would you really?” I hoped she wasn’t kidding. I would read it.

“It wasn’t a promise,” she raised her hands playfully, and I had a sudden flashback to the first time we had met. When she had done the exact same thing. And here we were, almost two months later, and yet our relationship had barely budged in any direction. All these ups and downs and we were back to the start.

I realized with a start that I wanted to make things clear to her. I reached out a hesitant hand to cup her cheek, and rather than push me away, she allowed me to step closer to her. “Is this okay?”

“My hot neighbor just made physical contact with me. I’m not sure what’s okay anymore.”

“Are… we okay?”

“We always were.” She smirked playfully.

“Okay.” I parted my lips, feeling her nose in a whisper of a touch against my face.

“Okay.” She closed the gap between us, her kiss a reassuring gesture that she was ready for our next adventure, and she was leaving the old one behind.

A loud creak sounded, followed by the disruptive clink of a wine glass meeting the floor. “In the hallway? Really?! Get a goddamn room…” I heard Sam huff, before closing the door on us again. There we stood, alone and in each other’s embrace, finding some security in our relationship for the first time.

#tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x reader #peter parker x reader #sam holland #hurt/comfort #enemies to lovers #spiderman #peter parker fanfiction #original female character #miscommunication

[vauxxy]

“treacherous”

(any version) peter parker x reader

(rivals to lovers because that’s the best trope)

peter parker ends up being roped into coming to betty brants party, despite immensely disliking the person who urges him to come. the party sparks a strange realisation and challenges their previous thoughts and feelings towards one another.

warnings: straight people and guns and female pronouns and alcohol and swearing xx

“fuck off penis parker”

y/n turned her head away from her lab partner, dragging her hands across her face as she crossed her legs. peter rolled his eyes and rested his head in his hand. “whatever, it was just an idea,” he scoffed, scribbling something down in his note book. y/n furrowed her brows.

“are you fucking serious? a study on what causes ‘goth girls’ to become pot heads? that’s an obvious dig at me and i won’t stand for it”

“what do you suggest then, y/n?”

peter smirked, fiddling with his pencil as he looked up at y/n.

“maybe a study on what causes guys with tiny dicks to become nerdy virgins” y/n proposed, loudly closing her science book. “oh wait,” she continued. “i think we know the answer to that one already!”

peter parker folded his arms and leaned back into his chair. “you’re such an… interesting personality, y/n” he laughed as the bell rang.

the rest of the class quickly fled the scene, most uncomfortable by the two teenagers’ constant arguing. their shoes lightly tapped the ground, y/n seemingly faster than usual.

as she hurried to her locker, gwen stopped her. “you’re in a rush” she stated, leaning against the metal doors next to y/n as the other girl frantically put her books in her bag.

“i’ve got to do the groceries, make dinner and meet with the bank all within the next few hours so i can go to this stupid party you want me at, so i’m in a little bit of a rush i guess” y/n joked sarcastically, pushing a hand against her hair anxiously.

“i can help you out if you want?” gwen offered, walking away with y/n. y/n shook her head as she headed towards the subway with her friend. “honestly, it’s all good. it’ll only take me an hour or two anyways” she smiled, catching the eye of a familiar nerd waiting for the train to area.

y/n and gwen. turned to face peter. “are you coming to the party tonight?” gwen asked, leaning her head on y/n’s shoulder. peter pursed his lips in response. “i didn’t even know there was a party” he replied, turning off his phone. y/n chuckled, shaking her head. “that’s so… like you, peter” she chuckled as the subway arrived at their platform.

the three got into discussion as the doors opened, walking in and luckily finding seats. “are you still pissy about the goth-pothead comment?” peter asked, staring at the screen of his phone. y/n shook her head and arched his brows, turning to face peter. “i don’t give a flying fuck about that, i have the memory of a fish,” y/n replied.”i just liked teasing you” she smiled.

“you should come peter, it’s at betty brant’s house” gwen interrupted, hanging onto her school bag. peter chuckled, slightly shaking his head. “i’m not too sure about that one,” he replied. “parties have never really been my thing” gwen gasped and put her hand on her heart. “that’s so crazy! who could’ve known that the skater boy didn’t like parties” she joked playfully, holding onto the trains hand rail as it moved around.

“you should come, i’d love to see you as a drunken idiot” y/n smirked. peter gazed up at y/n, crossing his arms. “oh, i am not good at being drunk- i get all weird” peter muttered awkwardly, causing gwen and y/n to instantly light up. “you need to come now!” gwen laughed, covering her hand with her mouth. he shook his head, standing up. “i’ll think about it” he murmured reluctantly, slinging his bag over his shoulder at the sound of the train announcing his stop. “you better come, i wanna see you make an absolute fool of yourself” y/n teased, pushing peter lightly. peter looked back at y/n, pursing his lips and meekly waving goodbye to the two girls.

as he left, gwen turnt to y/n. “you know he’s into you, right?” she stated, taking peters old seat next to y/n. y/n chuckled sarcastically, rolling her eyes. “very funny, gwen” she responded. she nodded her head, nudging her shoulder a bit. “he’s got a thing for emo girls, even ones he supposedly hates” gwen affirmed, smiling.

“i don’t care anyways, i couldn’t like a jerk like that”

“are you sure? you flirt with him every chance you get”

“no! that’s just banter, don’t get it twisted” y/n scoffed, standing up for her stop. “i’m gonna go run some errands before the party, see you then” she smiled. gwen nodded, waving goodbye.

- - -

running from the bank to the grocery store back to her house was a rather tiring routine, but she had to do it to make sure her siblings were all tended for before she even thought about enjoying herself.

while she was walking to the bank, she felt a pair of eyes staring daggers into the back of her head, but as soon as she turned around she found absolutely nothing to be afraid of. this had been happening much more than usual, causing herself to become more cautious than usual.

getting ready for the party, she felt the same fear she felt at the bank, but it was more so about what gwen had said before. to soothe her nerves, she called her friend and put the phone of speaker as she did her makeup.

“we’re gonna get pete so drunk tonight, i wanna know what he was talking about on the train” gwen laughed, causing y/n to subconsciously smile. “i wonder if he’s a funny drunk or one of those depressing ones with no filter” y/n responded, grabbing her keys and walking out of her bedroom.

she put her hand over the speaker of the phone and shouted out to her siblings. “i’ll be back in a few hours, call me if you need anything” she announced, heading out of the house as her siblings all said their goodbyes.

hopefully the night wouldn’t end in disaster.

- - -

“bottoms up!” gwen shouted, already hammered 50 minutes into the party. y/n, gwen and peter were all sat in betty’s spacious bathroom, close together with a bottle of vodka and a carton of apple juice. the three teens took their respective shots, each at different stages of drunkenness.

y/n sat back into the coldness of the empty bathtub with a bottle of beer in her right hand and a shot glass in the other. “i feel like my body doesn’t align with my brain” she cried dramatically. gwen turned to her friend, leaning against the cabinet underneath the sink. “how so babe?” she replied, popping every other letter she spoke. peter’s eyes moved over to y/n intrigued by her sentiment.

“i just feel like my boobs should be bigger!” she sulked, sitting up to face gwen and peter. gwen sympathetically arched her brows, cradling the vodka bottle. “no! you have great boobs…” she slurred as peter turned beetroot red and turned away from y/n, leaning against the bathroom wall.

“but what if i want double d’s??!!” she exclaimed, leaning back. peter leaned his head to the side. “for the record, i think your boobs are nice” he stated, clearly out of it. y/n and gwen were both taken back by this sudden comment. “uhhh, thanks?!” y/n stuttered, covering her face in embarrassment. “don’t think too much about it, weirdo” peter defended himself, “maybe if you weren’t such an emo you’d like them more”

gwen suddenly jolted up, as if something clicked. “y/n you’re right, he doesn’t have a filter when he’s drunk!” she smiled, turning to peter. y/n’s eyes lit up, mouth opening slightly. “i’d like to think i’m a very well held together drunk person” peter nodded his head, assuring himself. y/n shook her head, leaning over to pat peters shoulder. “i literally don’t understand a single word you said”

“well, this newfound information deserves a game of truth or truth” gwen suggested, taking another shot. peter refused at first, but he didn’t really have a choice in the matter anyways.

“peter, truth or truth?” gwen asked. peter took a while to think, tapping his chin. “i think i’ll take a wildcard here and say… truth” he reposed. “since when we’re you so observant of y/n’s boobs?” she asked, causing y/n to object. “that’s a weird question-“ she was cut off by peter answering almost instantly. “i am a very observant person, i see things” he justified, slurring his words. “but” he continued, “y/n is a pretty girl, despite her rude comments and scary makeup so i’m obviously gonna notice her nice boobs”

y/n tried to form a sentence but all could come out was a confused “thank you??”

after a few beats of time, she straightened her back and peeked over at peter. “someone wants to get into my pants” she sneered. peter threw up his hands defensively. “hey, no way! gross…” he muttered. “i’m just telling the truth, you’re the one making it weird”

gwen nodded her head in satisfaction. “okay, now you ask someone” she insisted, passing the bottle to peter. “okay, gwen… truth or truth?” he asked, taking a swift and instantly regretting it as the taste hit his mouth. “truth” she replied, curling her knees towards her chest. “what’s the weirdest secret you know about anyone at this party?” peter questioned. gwen took a few moments to think of something.

“betty is screwing the camera dude for her little morning announcements” she nonchalantly replied, shrugging her shoulders. y/n gasped. pulling at her hair slightly. “i called it!” she shouted.

the game continued, the questions getting weirder and more provocative as time went on.

“y/n, truth or truth?” betty asked, crossing her arms confidently. “truth” she replied.

“who’s the most fuckable person at school?” she smiled like a drunken sailor. y/n didn’t hesitate one bit, absolutely smashed. “peter” she whispered loudly, pointing at the boy who was now sat next to her in the bathtub.

peter’s eyes widened, frozen in place. “what?! why me?” he asked, chocking on his words. gwen gasped, grasping at the torso of her dress in shock. “you’re tall and you’re secretly ripped… and you’re awkward and nice but not to me which i find a little attractive” she muttered. “you’re a major dick with a terrible attitude- but i feel like if i was to do anything with anyone you’d be the nicest” she stated as her eyes fluttered.

peter was at an utter loss for words. “are you two into each other and just decided not to tell me?” gwen, cried, smiling as she laid back. “i don’t like peter, i just find myself being very, extremely attracted to him” y/n, bit the inside of her mouth. “despite his obvious and unavoidable flaws, of course” she continued. peter stared at her in shock, pushing his hair back. “honestly, i agree” he interjected. “i find myself thinking about y/n a lot, but i don’t like her” he said.

“that’s literally the definition of liking each other” gwen affirmed, drinking the last bit from the bottle. “i need to get more!” she shouted, standing up. “get something fruity” y/n pleaded, reaching out. “sure” gwen agreed. leaving the room.

moments passed, and quickly y/n moved towards peter. “do i like you, penis parker?” she asked, resting her head on his shoulder. “how am i supposed to answer that question” peter laughed, leaning into the movement.

“kiss me so i know if i like you” y/n demanded, jolting up and facing peter.

their faces were mere centimetres apart, they could feel the warmth of each others bodies.

“are you sure?” he asked, moving in a little closer.

“yes i’m sure, don’t be a pussy” she responded, placing her hands on peters shoulders.

suddenly, their lips made contact as their bodies intertwined. peter put his hands in her waist as he leaned further into the kiss.

the expression turned more passionate, but before they could continue the door opened suddenly.

“can you guys leave? it’s 2 am!” betty demanded, holding a trash bag filled with empty bottles and plastic cups.

the two jolted off each other, startled by her sudden entrance. “oh, shit-“ she clenched her teeth as she realised what the two were doing. “sorry, you’ve got 30 minutes to wrap… that… up” she hesitantly remarked as she walked backwards out of the doorframe and closed the door.

the two sat in silence for a few seconds.

“i can’t tell if that was a good idea or not” peter sighed, sinking into the floor of the bathtub. y/n closed her eyes. “i’m so confused” she muttered, covering her face. peter turned towards y/n again and moved the hands from her face before leaning into kiss her again. y/n returned the gesture, pulling herself into him.

“guys betty brant is kicking us out-“ gwen announced as she opened the door, her eyes widening at the sight in front of her “HOLY SHIT!” she shouted, gasping loudly. the two pushed off of each other again, moving to separate sides of the bathtub.

“umm… it’s not what it looks like?” y/n said, not even sounding convincing enough for herself. “no, it definitely is what it looks like” gwen nodded leaning over to let out an exhausted laugh. “i fucking called it!” she cheered, parading out of the bathroom.

y/n stood up, gesturing her hand out to peter so he could follow. “i should probably get an uber” she stated, stepping out of the bathtub as peter took her hand. he followed and nodded slightly. “me too to be honest, i don’t think i can drive” he laughed, stumbling a little.

the two exited out the bathroom and awkwardly walked outside the house together.

the cold air hit y/n’s face as she stared at her phone screen, waiting for her uber to arrive so she could get out of this awkward tension.

“do you wanna talk about what happened?” peter started, looking over at y/n. she looked back, noticing the large distance between the two. “no-yes, no??” she responded, putting her phone in her jacket pocket. “i’m gonna sleep on it, if that’s okay” she finally replied cohesively, fidgeting with her hands. peter nodded, hiding his hands in his jean pockets.

the uber pulled up to the sidewalk, announcing that the uber was for y/n. she took a step forward towards it before peter grabbed her hand and pulled her into one last kiss, sinking into the moment. y/n clinched onto him as if they’d never speak again, holding him closely.

she pulled away a few seconds later, taking a step backwards. “uh, i’ll see you later penis parker” she remarked, stepping inside of the car. peter waved as the car started and drive off with the girl he was snogging a few moments before. he took a deep breath in, holding his face. “what the fuck…” he muttered.

- - -

it had been more than 24 hours since the party and there was complete radio silence between both parties. peter was hunched over in his bed, staring at his phone as he yearned for a text from y/n ti meet up or something. it was already sunday night and they were supposed to sit next to each other for the first two periods in the morning.

to take his mind off the stress he was feeling, peter put on his suit and climbed out of his bedroom window.

he swung around the streets of queens for a few good minutes, taking in the cold air as it collapsed against the fabric of his suit. he wound up on the rooftop of the tallest building in sight, staring over the city streets. his eyes traced over every movement he could see, swinging his legs over the end of the building.

in the corner of his eye, he could see two figures standing in an alleyway nearby. suspicious of the situation, he cautiously swung closer to navigate the situation better.

“hand over the money, i know you have it” a booming voice announced from the distance, instantly alarming peter. moving closer, he could see that the figure responsible for the voice had a handgun pressed against the second figure.

quickly, peter swung towards the alleyway and dropped right behind the armed man. he punched him down almost instinctively and pressed the front of his body against the cold floor. “what do you think you’re doing, threatening people this late at night?” he asked, webbing the gun to the ground and holding the man’s hands behind his back. “the fuck?!” he shouted, muffled by his face smashed against the concrete. peter webbed his hands in place and stuck him to the ground before standing up and looking at the other figure.

he instantly recognised the girl in front of him, chocking out of pure shock and somewhat rage.

y/n?

“attacking a teenager? not cool, man” he sighed, quickly contacting the authorities and standing by y/n. she had tears in her eyes and was shaking harder than anyone peter had ever seen anyone shake before. “are you okay ms?” he asked, holding into her shoulders. she shook her head, sobbing quietly. “i’ll get you out of here” he stated, grabbing onto y/n and webbing the man to the floor once again, just in case.

he swung the two back the the top of the building as her tears wet the torso of peter’s suit. it took everything in her power to not kiss her again and hold onto her as tightly as possible.

he set her down, rubbing her back softly. “do you mind telling me what happened?” he asked, crouching down to her level as she sat on the floor of the building. she nodded, sobbing a little quieter.

“that- that was some weird stalk-stalker” she cried, trying to explain herself. “he was following me around all week because- because i’ve been going to th-the banks”

peter nodded slowly, trying not to rush her. “i think he though i had money… but i definitely don’t have- like any…” she sighed, drying her eyes. she bit the inside of her mouth. calming down a little. “you don’t need to worry about him anymore, he’s going to jail for a very long time” he reassured her.

soon enough, y/n started talking to the masked superhero about her week. “i’ve been having a lot of financial issues, and boy issues, and like… issues” she stated, laughing a little bit. peter’s ears pricked up. “boy issues?” he asked, instantly regretting it. so unprofessional he thought, internally judging himself. “oh yeah,” she laughed. “i don’t think you’d wanna hear about that, you’re a whole ass superhero” she smiled, shaking her head.

“i’m all ears” he reassured her, crossing his arms.

“well… there’s this boy who i used to really super dislike but we got drunk- like shitfaced drunk, and we kissed like three times and i liked all the times…” she frowned, covering her face. “but i’ve been busy so i accidentally ghosted him- but he’s been ghosting me too!” she argued with herself, perusing her lips. peter instantly filled with regret.

“it sounds like you two really like each other, maybe just be truthful to how you feel” peter suggested, fiddling with his hands. y/n nodded. “that’s probably a good idea” she agreed, standing up. “and stay away from banks for a while” he laughed, patting her in the back.

peter swung y/n home, making sure she was safe before heading back towards his bedroom for the night.

“what the fuck…” he muttered, collapsing into his bed.

im probably gonna do a part two cause im a little nerd xx

also i refuse to edit any of this so sorry if there’s mistakes lol

happy days 🫶

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