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lnfours · 9 months

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nonsense | t.h

summary -> inspired by ‘nonsense’ by sabrina carpenter. dedicated to @darling-im-wonderstruck and @kate-bishopss <3

au -> tom holland x singer!reader

wc -> 1.6k

warnings -> unedited, fluff, tom being bf material, a little bit of language and sexual innuendos

masterlist | listen

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

you sighed softly as you sat in the interview chair, tapping your fingers against your leg as your hairstylist and makeup artist applied some last minute touches before the camera turned on.

your new single had been on top charts for the past couple months, your album was coming out in a few short weeks, a tour was on the agenda for later this year. everything felt like it was finally slotting into place.

your fans had shown an insane amount of support from the number of streams and pre-saves for your new music, everything career wise made you feel on top of the world.

personal life wise, not so much.

you had met tom awhile back, the two of you had instantly connected while he was filming the latest spider-man movie. you two had gone out on a couple dates, hooked up a few times, the usual.

he checked all the boxes. he was caring and sweet, he made you feel like a queen, and he made sure you knew just how special you were to him.

however, whenever he was around, you felt knots in your stomach. the nervousness would set in whenever he was near. whenever you talk, you’d feel like you were speaking nonsense. all the nervousness is what kept you from jumping into something with him, but he was adamant about waiting for you. he didn’t want anyone else but you.

he didn’t care if it made him sound desperate, didn’t care about the girls in his dms or the ones who would text him and ask if he was seeing anyone. he only wanted you.

the camera started rolling and the interviewer introduced herself, smiling to the camera before introducing you. you smiled and thanked her for having you on before she asked her first question.

“so, ‘nonsense’ has been a huge hit,” she started, “you sing some very, risqué, lyrics, while also talking about how this certain someone makes you feel. did you pull inspiration from real life to write this?”

you nodded, “yeah, i did. i mean, you know that feeling you get when you talk to your crush? the kind of feeling that makes your insides melt? that's kind of how i feel with this person, every time.”

she smiled, “do they know they make you feel that way?”

you nodded, letting out a soft chuckle, “they do, yeah.”

she continued with the next question, “so, fans have speculated that the song is about tom holland, and you guys have been spotted out and about over the past couple months. are they right?”

you shook your head, palms sweating as you thought out your answer, “they’re all so creative with their speculations, but no, it’s not. tom and i are just friends.”

she tilted her head, “really? i mean, so many people have put compilations together of the two of you together and it seems like there’s some real chemistry brewing there.”

you smiled politely, “yeah, no. he’s really sweet, but we’re just friends.”

you felt the knots in your stomach again as you talked about him. just the thought of him made your stomach erupt in butterflies, how were you supposed to be together?

the interview was over after some more questions about the album and tour. you walked back to the dressing room, grabbing your things. as you scrolled through the missed texts on your phone, only one stood out to you the most.

tom: you were great ❤️

you smiled softly, going to reply, but your thought were interrupted when your manager walked in the door.

“the cars here,” she smiled, “ready?”

you tucked your phone back into your purse, “yeah,”

you walked outside of the building, saying hi and greeting some fans who waited outside. you took pictures, signed autographs, but the only thing on your mind was that text.

you pulled your phone back out as you got into the car, the driver heading back to your apartment building.

y/n: thank you ❤️

your fingers hovered over the keyboard, contemplating sending what you were thinking. you didn't understand why you were so nervous around him, why everything he did made your heart race or why he made your tongue go numb like all of a sudden you’re speaking gibberish.

none of it made sense, but then again, did it really have to? wasn’t the whole point of falling in love with someone about risks and growing together?

it was, right?

wanna get dinner tonight?

you locked your phone as soon as the ‘read’ popped up at the bottom of your message. you nervously bounced your leg, trying to fight back the urge to say ‘never mind’ as you watched the city life outside the dark tinted window.

your phone buzzed twice in your hand and you hesitated before looking down at the message on your lockscreen.

thought you’d never ask

meet at your place around 7?

you smiled down at your phone, your manager looking over at you as she spoke up, “nice job dodging those questions about tom earlier. i know how important your private life is, we want to keep it that way.”

you nodded, typing back your response before looking back at her. desperately trying to steady your heartbeat.

sounds good, spider-boy ❤️

“yeah,” you sighed, “i mean its not like i completely lied to them. we are just friends.”

“friends who hook up and get dinner on sunset?” she asked with a raised eyebrow. you sighed as she giggled, “i mean, i know there’s something brewing, anyone with eyes does, but why wait?”

you shrugged, “he just makes me nervous, almost like he’s too good to be true.”

“for as long as i’ve known you, if anyone deserves the ‘it’s too good to be true’, it’s you.”

you nodded, a soft smile on your face as the driver pulled up in front of your apartment building. you said your goodbyes, heading into the building and making your way into the elevator. you sighed, pressing the button for your floor.

maybe she was right. she almost always was.

the next few hours felt like the longest ever as you got ready. your hair was still styled almost perfectly from before, you touched up your makeup, and slipped on one of your favorite dresses. you felt good, and you looked good.

you were in the bathroom, applying some lip gloss in the mirror when you heard the knock on the door. you ruffled your hair one last time before making your way down the stairs and to the door, the clicking of your heels echoing throughout the penthouse.

you opened the door, smiling as tom stood in a dress shirt and dress pants. his sunglasses pushed back the curls that would normally fall in front of his forehead.

he looked so damn good.

he could say the same about you, though. his eyes traveled down your body as soon as you opened the door. he smiled as he handed you the bouquet of flowers from his grasp.

you thanked him and let him inside. he closed the door behind him and followed you into the kitchen where you were adding the new bouquet to the vase on the island.

“you look gorgeous, love,” he smiled as he took your hand. you laughed as he spun you around in a small circle, pulling you into his chest.

the smell of his cologne was embedded in your brain. after many nights of rolling over and smelling it on the pillows on the other side of your bed, or on one of the blankets on the couch he claimed was his, it smelled familiar. the feeling it gave you almost felt like home.

“so do you,” you grinned, “where are you taking me tonight, holland?”

“mm,” he hummed, “i booked a reservation for that italian place you like.”

you felt your heartbeat quicken as his nose brushed up against yours, “the key to my heart.”

he laughed softly, “seems you figured out what the key to mine is.”

you sent him a questioning look, “what’s that?”

“writing a song about me,” he smiled, “or, as you say, ‘about you and me’.”

you let out a chuckle, “you listened to it?”

“of course,” he playfully rolled his eyes, “it’s an honor to have a pop hit written about me, y’know.”

you hit his arm playfully, “stop.”

“stop what?”

“being so,” you trailed off for a second, “perfect.”

“you deserve nothing less, y/n.”

you felt the heat rise to your cheeks, and if he wasn’t holding you by the waist, you probably would’ve toppled over.

“you just make me so nervous,” you breathed out, “i’ve never felt this way about anyone else before.”

he smiled, “me either,” you returned the smile, “i know i’ve said it before, but i want it all with you. all the nervous jitters, the pillow talks, the dancing in the kitchen, all of it.”

in that moment, you put your nerves aside and let yourself give in.

“i want it all with you, too,” you mumbled, leaning closer to his lips. he smiled against yours as he kissed you sweetly, the both of you pulling away and erupting into soft chuckles.

your laugh grew louder when he picked you up, ignoring your protesting as he started up the stairs to your bedroom.

“what about our dinner reservation?” you laughed, fingers hooking into the waistband of his pants.

“you asked how quickly i can take my clothes off,” he said as he laid you down on your bed, “and there’s only one way to find out, love.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

💌 beings my tagged list has gotten so long that tumblr literally won't let me add it, the tagged list is temporarily closed until i can figure it out. in the meantime, be sure to follow and turn on notifications for @toms-gf to be notified whenever i post imagines :)

xoxo,

jordan <3

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jedi-mabari · 2 years

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What Were you Thinking?

Word Count: 1470 Warnings: Trigger warnings for abuse, Neil being a massive asshole. Mentions of blood. A/N: I appear to have fallen down the Billy Hargrove hole, and that's kind of where I'm stuck for the moment haha. But seriously, if the content of this story as mentioned in the warnings may trigger you, please read carefully if you decide to read at all.

Summary: You study session at Billy's if interrupted when Neil come home unexpectedly. ______________________

You were hiding in Billy’s bathroom when Neil slammed his son’s bedroom door open. You jumped, clasping your hand over your mouth to keep from making a sound. Billy pushed you into the bathroom as soon as he had heard his father pull up, warning you to stay quiet. You heard Neil slam the door shut again, and when he started speaking, it was low and scary.

“What the hell is wrong with you,” he hissed, and you dared to crack open the door. He was towering over Billy, his face red and his eyes narrowed. “Do you even know where your sister is?” You expected Billy to be his usual cock self, but you watched him shrink into himself.

“She’s over at the Sinclair kids house, I think,” he said, his eyes looking anywhere but his dad’s face.

“You think,” he asked, grabbing Billy by the front of his shirt, pulling him closer. “What do you mean you think? You are responsible for her!” He let go of Billy’s shirt as he struck Billy across the cheek with the back of his hand. You gasped as Billy staggered back, tears springing to your eyes.

You pushed the door open as Neil went for Billy again, picking up a text book. You gripped the book tight and swung, connecting with Neil’s shoulder, drawing his attention.

“What the fuck? Who the hell is this?” He turned to you, grabbing a fistful of your hair.

“Leave her alone,” Billy shouted, stopped from getting to you by Neil holding out his arm.

“Oh, she must be one of your whores,” he growled, dragging you around by the hair. You grip his wrist, holding it to your head so that even though he could jerk you around, he couldn’t rip your hair out.

“Let me go,” you shouted, kicking out at him, hitting his shins with the toes of your shoe.

“I said leave her alone,” Billy yelled, and suddenly you were on the floor, your scalp aching from the grip Neil had on your hair. You looked up in time to see Billy scooping you into his arms and Neil holding his nose kneeling on the ground.

You had barely caught your breath by the time Billy was shoving you into his camaro. He ran around to the driver side and started the engine, peeling away from the curb before Neil could get to you. You could hear him screaming from the door as Billy drove away. You turned to watch Neil and the house fade away as Billy sped down the road.

“What the hell were you thinking,” Billy snapped, using a tone he had never used with you. You shrunk into your seat and quickly put your seat belt on. “I told you to stay in the bathroom.” He was still yelling as he swiped at the blood dripping from his nose. You hadn’t even noticed he was bleeding until now.

“Are you okay,” you asked, and his eyes snapped to your face, his eyes narrowing into a glare.

“Are you?” Still yelling, but it sounded different. Not angry, but still upset, worried maybe. Your head still hurt, the dull throb of your scalp turning into a headache.

“Yeah,” you said, tears finally falling from your eyes. You could see the tears in his eyes before he wiped them away with the back on his hand.

“What were you thinking,” he asked through gritted teeth. He wasn’t yelling, but he was still angry.

“I couldn’t just watch him do that to you,” you said, wiping away your own tears. “I didn't know what else to do.”

“I shouldn’t have taken you there,” he said, his hand slamming down on the steering wheel. “I know better than that.” He glared out of the windshield, his hands wrapped around the wheel so tight they were white.

“Can we pull over,” you asked, your hands gripping your seat belt. You felt like you were going to be sick, and you didn’t want to get sick in his car. You couldn’t wrap your head around what had just happened. Billy looked at you for a moment and nodded. He pulled over on the side of the road and you ripped your seat belt off before the car was in park.

You bailed out of the car and started sucking in fresh air. You bent over, your eyes screwed shut, trying not to picture what Neil was going to do to Billy if he went back home. You jumped when you felt a hand on your back, pulling away from the touch. Billy grabbed your arm to keep you from tripping over your own feet.

“Just breathe,” he said, pulling you into his chest. You felt his hand on the back of your head, and you wrapped your arms around him.

“I’m so sorry,” you said, pulling yourself closer to him. You wanted to say something, anything really, but you couldn’t think of anything other than to apologize. He was holding you so tight you could feel him shake. He just held you for a while, and soon the nausea passed.

“I should get you home,” he said, pulling you back towards the car. You stopped him before he could open the door for you. You grabbed his arm and shook your head.

“Come with me,” you said, reaching up to try and wipe some dried blood from his face. He leaned away from your hand, pulling away from you entirely. “Please, Billy. I can’t think about you going back there.” He looked over the top of the car instead of at you, his jaw tightening as he clenched his teeth.

“I can’t,” he said, pulling the passenger door open. You waited for a moment before getting in. You wanted to insist, but the set of his jaw shut you up and you just got back in the car, clicking your seat belt in place. When Billy started the car again you rolled down your window so you could keep the fresh air on your face.

The drive to your house was quiet and tense. Billy was still white knuckling the steering wheel the entire way, and you were trying to come up with an argument that would get him to stay with you. You found yourself planless when he pulled up in front of your house. He didn’t lean over and kiss you goodbye like he normally did, but rather kept his eyes focused on the street beyond the hood of his camaro. You lingered in the car, your hand resting on the door handle.

“Billy,” you said softly, reaching over to grab his elbow. He still didn’t look at you, but he did turn his head slightly at his name coming out of your mouth. “Please come inside. Don’t go home. I’ll call the Sinclair's and tell Max she can stay over too. Her and my sister and kind of friends.”

“I already said no,” he said, relaxing his grip on the steering wheel.

“I know,” you said back, turning in your seat so you were facing him, “but I cannot stand the idea of you going back to that house. Back to that asshole!” Your headache was gone now, but your scalp was still sore.

“He’s had enough time to calm down. I’ll bring Max home and it’ll be fine.” He turned towards you, his steady glare telling you to drop it. “This isn’t a debate, (y/n).”

“No, it isn’t,” you agreed, fixing him with a glare of your own. “And the longer you stay here, the more time he has to calm down.” His face softened and he shook his head, and in a rare moment of vulnerability, he was honest with you.

“If I don’t go back with Max, he won’t just beat the shit out of me.” You had never heard him sound so small or scared. You could see the wall of tears behind his lashes. “It’ll be worse.” You took just a moment to comprehend what he just said before you leapt across the bar, pulling him into your arms.

“Come over tomorrow,” you said, kissing the side of his head. “We’ll make a plan to get you guys out safely.” You held onto him for another minute, his hands holding onto your arm as he took a minute to cry. He sucked in a deep breath and you pulled away from him as he dried his face. You had never seen him anywhere close to crying, and you ignored every instinct to comfort him while he put his wall back up.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, (y/n),” he said, putting his sunglasses on to hide his red puffy eyes. He leaned over and kissed your cheek before you got out of his car. You waved to him as you closed the door and he drove away. You stood on the lawn and watched him disappear around a corner.

#Billy Hargrove x Reader #Billy Hargrove #reader insert #stranger things #Jedi mabari writes #Billy Hargrove needs a hug man #He deserved so much better than a shitty dad #and a mom who pulled a disappearing act

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